Blue Champagne

The hot chocolate burned his tongue. Voices, laughter, filled the air and the lights outside cast everything in an inescapable Christmas glow. Merlin took another gulp of the heat and focused on how it seared his throat, how it burned, how it pricked tears up in his eyes. Central London was a maze, a stuffy and sparkling mess with the present-shopping rush. Through the glass he watched it all, watched them all, the colourless people only lit up by the street lights, the large decorations strung over the street high above. His phone buzzed. Gwaine was calling him. He sighed and drank more chocolate. It was the first thing he'd eaten that day. Drank. Either or. It was warm in his stomach and helped keep the cold in his hands at bay as he held onto the cardboard cup. When the vibrations stopped, when Gwaine gave up, the time and date blinked back onto the screen.

18:37

Friday 22 December

He let his eyelids close and ignored the itchy feeling under his skin. This was the third day he'd actively avoided using magic. There was a pit in his stomach, a cold hand clenched inside his chest, whenever he thought about it.

'Hi? You're Merlin Emrys, aren't you?'

Merlin opened his eyes and looked to his side to see a middle-aged man in a suit staring at him. His frown was automatic, not just out of confusion but also defence. The man was well-groomed, salt and pepper dark hair, with an expensive coat. 'I just wanted to say I think you're really brave. What you do, I mean you don't get enough appreciation. The government cuts are ridiculous. You're basically a hero. Thank you. That's all. Thank you and happy Christmas.'

The stranger gave him a smile, a genuine smile, and Merlin caught a whiff of expensive cologne. Then the man took himself and his coffee back outside. Merlin watched his breath turn to cloud in front of him and he lost view of him in the throngs of people. He settled himself back properly onto the stool and the frown disappeared.

You've changed.

Abomination.

You keep hurting or killing.

Fire coursed down his hands, wrists, and Merlin leapt back off the stool.

'Shit,' he hissed, snatched his phone out of the spilled hot chocolate and shook it off as quickly as he could. The crushed cup bounced onto the ground as the brown liquid pooled and ran off the wooden countertop. One of the Starbucks baristas rushed over with napkins and stuffed them into his hands before she began to soak up the hot chocolate.

'It's alright, sir, if you want another drink it's on the house,' she said. Merlin wiped it off his skin, his phone, dabbed at where it had splashed onto his coat.

'No, don't worry about it,' he said, voice grittier from the last two days of mostly silence and angry yells into his pillow. It was either that or scaring the fuck out of Gwaine. He'd had to get it out of his system. 'Sorry about-'

'Really, it's alright. Do you need to run your hands under cold water?'

Twisted.

Merlin couldn't get Arthur's voice out of his head. He flashed a tight smile to the barista and left, hands still stinging from the heat. The wind outside hit his cheeks with ice sheets and he shoved his burning hands deeps into his pockets. His phone vibrated again, the ticklish sensation running against his thigh. In the crowd he felt dazed, by the lights, the cold, the volume of people, the crush. He answered the call.

'Hey,' Gwen said. 'How are you?'

'I'm better.'

'You know the plan for Sunday? I wasn't sure if Arthur told you and Gwaine couldn't reach you so I thought I'd try. Just my luck you answered.'

'I'm not allowed to go with you.'

'It's only Arthur and Gwaine going now. Anyway, they still need that delayed magic thing to get in so—'

'I'll make sure Gwaine has it in time.'

'Thanks, Merlin. I really do hope you're okay. I'm always here for you, you know.'

'Yeah. I know. It's hard, though.'

'Lance and I are going to be spending Christmas together and if you wanted to join us you'd be more than welcome. I don't actually know if you have any family to go see or—'

'Thank you, Gwen,' he said, 'but I'm okay. I'll see you after Christmas. Hope you and Lancelot have a good time.'

'Lancelo—'

He ended the call as he reached the stairs which led down into Oxford Circus. Central line and then a bus and he'd be back at Gwaine's flat. His flat. Merlin's hands ached but the pain was fading and he breathed in the stuffy polluted underground air as heat swarmed against him. He fought through the crowds and concentrated on the pain quickly disappearing, on the tightness in his abdomen where the scar remained, on what he could use to get Gwaine into the Old Religion Christmas Eve party.

.

.

.

Merlin ruffled up his hair and checked his reflection in one of the dark windows he passed on the walk-way. He navigated through the empty paths towards the address he'd seen Gwaine note down after a call from Arthur the day before. Giving Gwaine an enchanted lighter was his part of their plan, but beyond that he could do what he wanted. Arthur had the nerve to forbid him from attending. Prat. He stopped short of the main walkway and kept to the cool wall. He watched them head in and waited twenty minutes before following.

The distant sound of fountains and running water cooled the quiet night further and the windows of the Barbican flats formed a shining and uniform sequence of lights, lives, strangers moving in their homes. It was an eerie pocket of concrete, privilege, the futuristic dreams of seventies architecture, and the City's modern professionals. Elevated above the city's street level, completely hidden from main roads and passers-by, the whole area breathed secrets, forgotten futures and pasts, and made him walk on edge.

That and the unbearable cold. It was minus two degrees celsius but Merlin could swear it had gone further sub-zero the way the air captured his ghost-like breath and snuck in to assault any bare skin.

Ahead a conspicuous woman waited beside one of the flat complex's doors. The atmosphere, echoing footsteps, far-off water and general onslaught of brick and concrete made it far creepier than necessary. He approached calmly, numb hands tucked inside his useless pockets. She eyed him the whole time, his slight hesitation when he felt something resist his movements for a moment, and cocked her head when he stopped in front of her. It was a magical barrier of some kind, probably similar to the kind they'd used outside Nimueh's main base. This one didn't stop magic, though. His heart beat faster and his blood ran hotter in confirmation. His nerves were balled up tight, painfully. He'd need to use magic.

'What's the password?' she asked with a glossy smile and crossed arms.

Merlin studied her and stepped closer. 'You realise how cliché that is, right?'

'Show me something new if clichés get under your skin,' she continued.

Gwaine's lighter would have allowed him to warp and control the flame as if he had magic himself. It would have let Arthur take the flame into his own hands and conjure a small illusion with it, not that he'd had the chance to tell him that directly. Gwaine had been forced to relay the information.

The point of the lighter was that simple elemental magic was the natural inclination for most magic-users which helped their covers. But they'd recognise him more easily than those two. Subtlety wouldn't help him.

'Sure,' he said as he breathed in the cold, closed his eyes, and concentrated on the blackness. The sensation of the wind, the frozen air, the quiet. Fear made him shiver. He didn't know what he was doing, he just followed the fear, made sure he didn't step over the line. The line which had warped time.

It started slowly. First the breeze picked up and grew into a soft howl. Second came the odd splat of ice and water. Hail. His magic dug into him, burrowed where he hadn't felt it before. Heat began to sting as it ran through his veins while his skin remained icy in the winter air. A minute of listening, feeling the rise in air pressure, the spreading moisture, and Merlin let it all fall down.

When he opened his eyes the rain and hail came down in torrents. It was violent. It shocked him as it battered the cement and blew against them in sprinkling, spiking sheets. She stepped past him to look out beyond the walk-way's concrete columns and overhang. The thunder quaked and rippled through the sky, Merlin's chest. It sounded deep, ran up his spine, and he grinned as the heat made way for an unbelievable warmth.

Another clash of the clouds above met with static, the friction rubbing up in his stomach and lightning cut through the dark. White and blinding and gone the next second. Another flash, and when he blinked he saw the branching white-heat of the lightning in the sky and in his mind. The next quake of thunder was older, he felt the ground under his shoes shake and he swallowed with instinctual fear. His smile fell. She watched it for two more minutes until Merlin eased the warmth away to leave a buzz running through his entire body.

'You can go in,' she said with wide eyes, the earlier pretence and aloofness broken by a look of surprise and concern. Her hand lifted up lazily and the door opened.

Merlin climbed the cool stairwell, heard the door click shut, and followed the sounds of voices and music. He unbuttoned his coat, tugged it off, and handed it to a smartly dressed older man who waited by another closed door. The hallway was empty and Merlin was about to ask where he put people's coats and bags when the man turned the fabric over in his arms and the coat disappeared in a blur of colour.

'I better get that back,' Merlin said, a bit put-off by the magic. He could Vanish himself and another person but had never tried to Vanish clothing or objects. Especially not now. He really didn't know a lot at all about magic. The ancient books only taught him so much and things definitely worked differently now than they had back in Camelot.

'You will,' the man told him with a warm smile. 'Enjoy the party, sir.'

Merlin swallowed his insecurity. He was a Dragonlord, wasn't he? At least he had been one. He was magic, magic was him, and this was a party hosted by Old Religion, with magic users as guests. Maybe it was his lack of exposure to any magic users who weren't corrupt or trying to kill him or his friends that made him uneasy. Then again Phoebe hadn't been corrupt. But the magic had corrupted her. Merlin pressed his lips together at the painful thought and walked inside.

Vapour floated through the corridors, curled out of people's mouths, and Merlin's senses seized at the smell and flavours. He twisted around a group stood chatting into the living room. The air tasted of practically everything he could ever want to taste, even things he'd never known were possible. The heavy strum of music ran through the crowded flat like a drum beat, a heart beat. It added depth, weight, and helped keep timing for the conversations, the movements of the few that danced around him. Flutes of champagne, bottles of beer, wine, an ominous luminescent purple-coloured drink, filled the hands of the guests. They were an incredible mix of ages and styles, from designer formal wear to high-street casual wear, from teenagers to early fifties.

A hand touched his shoulder. 'Inspiring isn't it?'

Merlin looked at the man who offered him a flute filled with a blue bubbly liquid. 'Food-dye in the champagne?'

Merlin watched him with renewed interest when he felt that odd sense of recognition he'd felt walking into Scotland Yard little over a year before. He looked to be in his late thirties, early forties at most, thick eye brows, long face, slanted blue eyes.

He laughed, smiled with his eyes crinkling, and shook his head. 'It's something I like to call Morpheus. Named after the greek god of dreams. The theory is that it not only lets your inhibitions loosen but also gives you a more colourful world to run into once you're free.'

'So it's spiked?'

'Not at all. It simply enhances the way warlocks like yourself can choose to see the world. I'm sure you know what I mean. Try it,' he insisted. Merlin put the glass to his lips and took a small mouthful. It tasted like champagne, dry, fruity. 'Good?'

'Yeah,' he said and lowered the glass, licked his lips and realised. The soft voice, the face, he knew him. He just couldn't pin down from when exactly. 'What's your name? Are you the caterer for Old Religion's throw downs or?'

He offered his hand and Merlin shook it. 'Nix. It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Merlin,' he said, the lingering hand shake making his skin crawl. The man was standing close, too-close, but with the crowd he couldn't step away. He took a deep breath. 'Nix can't be your real name.'

'Is Merlin yours? A little Arthurian, don't you think?'

He laughed nervously at the reference and took another drink of the blue champagne. 'You have no idea.'

'I feel like I've seen you before,' Nix went on and led him through the living room to the open balcony doors where an unnaturally warm air blew in. Merlin wanted to search the place for Arthur and Gwaine, make sure they weren't in trouble, but Nix had his hand on his back and too much confidence to not be important to Old Religion. He scoured the faces they passed, tried to look past the crowds of people for blonde hair, or Gwaine's conditioned locks, but found nothing. 'Yes, I have. You're with the Metropolitan Police, aren't you?'

They had stepped outside now, air still warm, Merlin's storm gone but melting pieces of hail were scattered the ground. He kept trying to figure it out, running names and faces and events through his head from his time in Camelot. It had been so long ago and the only thing he really recalled was the family he'd had in Camelot, the knights, their worst enemies, Arthur and his fate. Their fate.

'It's alright,' Nix said and put a hand on his arm. It was large, warm and squeezed a little. Merlin narrowed his eyes unintentionally and Nix pulled his hand back. 'You're either here to arrest me or, like the rest of us, you want to understand it all. Understand your powers. With the timing of your entrance I'm going to guess you created the scene just now?'

He looked up into the dark night sky.

'Why would I arrest you?' Merlin asked and sipped the champagne. He was playing with fire, cover blown, but 'Nix' or whoever he was clearly wanted to trust him. The danger was a good distraction. He didn't want to brood forever. He wasn't the lamenting type. Not anymore.

Nix smiled again, looking at him with relaxed eyes. 'It's mine.'

'What is?'

'Old Religion.'

'Old Religion doesn't have an owner.'

'The new Old Religion does. I know it sounds counter intuitive, but whoever has taken charge previously failed terribly. Misguided, power hungry, murdering,' Nix paused and sighed as heat flushed through Merlin's cheeks. 'In the last few months I've come into my own powers and with my previous experience with drugs I decided to carve out a business. From there I became a figurehead in our community. Working in the shadows has never been of more help than now. I don't control any of them. I offer them help, a safe way to explore and soften their powers.'

'So you're a glorified drug dealer.'

'With a PhD in Chemistry from Cambridge, yes I am. I was a part of the Biological research group but my real joys, music, getting high,' he paused and smiled. 'They clashed with the more conventional career paths at my feet. I understand how these drugs work, Merlin, and I can keep them safe for users. I can create new and better ones with my gift.'

'Should I be impressed?'

'Yes. Why are you here, Merlin? I've confessed enough that you can arrest me right now. This flat is filled with incriminating evidence which I won't destroy if you choose to, but magic is not a crime. It's a gift.'

Merlin watched him. Alvarr. He'd led the druid camp where Mordred had found refuge. He'd escaped the dungeons and a death sentence. Now he was testing him. Testing his loyalty.

'Is the business card yours?' he asked.

'I've had a few made,' Alvarr said and reached into his jacket's pocket. He wore a suit too, well made, and Merlin felt his smart casual choice fell a little short in its presence. He frowned at the thought when Alvarr brought out another card and handed it to him. Merlin took it and with the contact the dark spiral in the centre unravelled. Its ink split into smaller lines that shot and curled along the card to form a phone number. 'The number only reveals itself to those of us with magic.'

'I can't let you run a drug ring,' Merlin told him. 'It's our job to stop it.'

'Drugs are the one thing keeping our people sane. I offer alternatives to heroin, cocaine, DMT, LSD, angel dust, and any other kind of addictive and dangerous substance you want to name. I use mine in drinks, like yours right now, and in juices which dilutes the strength and makes them virtually risk-free.'

'Juices? Like smoothies?' Merlin asked, only a second later realising that his blue champagne contained Nix's drugs. His chest didn't seem as tight, and his head was lighter.

'Vaping,' he said and pulled out a vaping machine, took a deep lungful from it and puffed out a large white cloud. As it dispersed the edges crackled with small blue sparks and the white turned purple as it spilled out with his next breath. It blew directly into Merlin's face and when he involuntarily breathed in his hairs stood on end and a fuzzy calm rolled through him.

Merlin blinked, unnerved for a second. 'Wow.'

'While I'd love to talk more with you I have to go say hello to a few people. When you've decided what you want you should give me a call,' he said softly and slipped the machine back into his pocket.

Merlin wanted to give the card back. 'I don't do drugs.'

'I don't mean drugs. Call me so we can talk. About anything you want. I used to be like you. You feel like you're alone. Your sensitivity to the world leaves you exposed. I wanted to hide from it all. I would bury myself in my books, in my degrees, and eventually in drinks. In the end I lost myself in drugs. Anything to escape it. In the end I had never felt so alone. You shouldn't try to ignore what you feel, no matter how excruciating it may be.'

Merlin watched him, the sincerity in his eyes, how his voice trailed off. 'You're not talking about the magic, are you?'

'No, I'm not. Enjoy yourself tonight, Merlin,' he said, gave a small smile, and left him alone outside. Merlin stared at the card for a moment longer before he pushed it into his jean pocket and headed back inside. Why hadn't he arrested him? He should have. That's what they were trying to do, wasn't it? The card, the drugs, were present at all of the crime scenes. But then all the deaths had occurred as a result of magic not Nix. Now he was a murderer too. Magic was the reason for the drugs and Nix's cards, not their deaths, not murder.

He was a killer. He was the thing he'd grown up dreaming to end.

'Merlin?'

He snapped out of his daze in time to see Arthur storm into him. He pulled him to the corner of the room and pushed him against the wall.

'What in the bloody hell are you doing here?' he hissed.

'You're going to blow my cover,' Merlin whispered back, the sudden proximity making his stomach twist. Over Arthur's shoulder he spotted Gwaine by the kitchen counter chatting up a woman.

'I gave you an order not to come here.'

'Arthur,' he breathed and looked into his eyes but Arthur was distracted by the blue champagne.

'What is that? You shouldn't be drinking here, it's—'

'Drugged?' he challenged.

When Arthur reached for it Merlin pulled back and downed it all. Arthur grabbed it out of his hand too late and Merlin swallowed the flute-full just as he threw the glass to the ground. Glass broke, a sharp piercing sound, and no one cared. They just stepped over it, added a crunch to the loud music.

'What—'

'Arthur,' Merlin said, the fuzzy warmth everywhere, spreading. 'I came here to make sure you and Gwaine would be safe. Not to be scolded by you.'

'I told you not to. You disobeyed a direct order from your SIO—'

'I didn't come here as a detective, Arthur. I came here as your frien— As,' he trailed off frowning. Were they friends? He didn't feel like it was the right word. 'This place is dangerous.'

'I know that,' he whispered a little harshly but the angry expression blinked away.

Merlin couldn't stop the frown as he tried to process what Nix/Alvarr had said, what it meant, what would happen now that Arthur was in front of him after what had happened.

'I'm not leaving until you two leave,' Merlin added as a point of stubbornness and pride.

Arthur stared at him, his pupils a little larger than they should be. He stepped closer until their faces were centimetres apart.

'Arthur,' he whispered in a sort of warning, a question, when he moved closer and his eyes closed. Merlin felt his breath, hot against his skin, his lips. He put his hands up against Arthur's shirt, very aware of their surroundings, but Arthur kissed him anyway. He just pressed his lips against his, once, twice, turned his head the other way and did the same. Dry, soft, warm. Merlin closed his eyes and relaxed his mouth, let his lips part, let Arthur get closer, get inside. It was longer, harder, his hand curling up into Arthur's hair, then he pulled away and leaned back into the crook of the two walls.

'Merlin,' Arthur breathed, eyes still closed, and leaned his forehead against his. 'I just got you back. I don't want to lose you.'

Someone wolf whistled and Merlin pushed him back a little, resting his hands against Arthur's chest. They were at an Old Religion drug-promotion party trying to get information for a murder case. He'd murdered Phoebe and Arthur hadn't told anyone. They'd both lied to their team, the police. Why were they making-out?

Arthur put a hand against his cheek. 'Spend Christmas Day with me.'

Merlin pressed back further from him. 'Arthur—'

'I won't take no for an answer, Merlin. It'll give us a chance to talk about us. About what happened on Tuesday—'

'Please don't,' he whispered and looked down into Arthur's grey shirt which his pale hands rested against. The buzz from his magic, from the champagne and the vapour, had left him in a blurry low place which Arthur had kissed with either impeccable or terrible timing. He didn't know if more space was better or worse.

'I want to know you.'

Merlin glared at him. 'And if you don't like me once you do? You said it yourself Tuesday. I'm a killer. I lose control. I used you. Made you a one-night stand.'

The last one croaked out and he saw Arthur wince. The silence between them was suffocating then Arthur's other hand found his and his thumb stroked it.

'You're Merlin. I'm Arthur. We've survived dragons, wars, assassination attempts, and more,' he said, a small assuring smile drifting across his face. His hand moved down to Merlin's neck. It was hot, secure, safe. 'We'll figure it out. We have to.'

'Because it's fate?'

Arthur frowned. 'Fuck fate. We'll figure it out because we care about each other enough to try. What happened wasn't right but the alternatives were worse. I know— I believe you're a good person, Merlin. The only thing that separates killers from heroes is purpose, and that's a fine line. You have a good purpose. That's all that matters to me.'

Merlin watched him, soaked in the blue of his eyes, the way his pink lips were redder from the kiss, the way he smelled of aftershave. He wanted to curl up and fade away but Arthur was there, was with him. Gwaine had refused to go back to Ireland so he'd expected to spend the day with him. Either way he wasn't going to be alone. He couldn't Vanish away if he wanted to, not without risking losing time again. With Nix's number in his pocket, Phoebe's blood on his hands, and what he couldn't deny anymore as spirits, ghosts, showing up and thanking him, he couldn't hide anymore.

'Okay.'

Arthur smiled, kissed his cheek, and stepped away to join a few people crowded around the sofa who played around with small incantations, making vapour dance through the air to form faces and animals. A snake, a wolf, a raven, then the large form of a snow leopard which stalked through the crowds in white and grey bursts of vapour.

Merlin let out a breath, cheeks hot with the public display and confusion, and caught Alvarr/Nix watching him. The man leaned against the kitchen island, unsmiling but with that strange intimate warmth in his eyes as a woman with long strawberry-blonde hair chatted beside him. At the other end of the kitchen Gwaine was chugging a fluorescent orange drink and Merlin rushed over to stop him. As he moved Alvarr's eyes followed him and hot air ghosted across the back of his neck.

(Playlist for Blue Champagne:

-Happiness - Single Mix by IAMX

-Gógó by Kúra

-Angel - 2006 Digital Remaster by Massive Attack

-Between Two Points - Remix by The Glitch Mob and

-Midnight City by M83

-Amenamy by Purity Ring

-Love Me Better (feat. Ariel Beesley) by Love Thy Brother and Ariel Beesley

-Wild Eyes by Broiler and RAVVEL

-Night of the Hunter by Thirty Seconds To Mars)