A/N: Warning—minor descriptions of sexy times ;) But I think you'll all be okay.
Your reactions were to be expected, and understandable, considering the last line of the previous chapter (sorry about that). But I'm going to ask a frustrating thing of you—patience. Thank you, thank you, All, for continually reading and waiting and especially, REVIEWING! (It just helps)
P.S. That guest review was . . . amusing.
17.
"Kill me?" Merlin repeats, incredulous. Arthur may be a prat, but there's nothing to hint at him being a homicidal one.
Well, except for that eye dagger look.
Merlin tries again, when Gaius just frowns. "What do you mean, ki—"
"Are you two alright up there?" Gwen calls, startling them both. Merlin forgot there was even anyone down there.
"Just fine, Guinevere!" Gaius recovers first, bustling over to the tea kettle. Merlin watches numbly as the old man pours the steaming water into cups, adding in odd, homemade-looking tea bags. He shakes his head at Merlin's questioning look, obviously done with the conversation. For now.
Merlin is not going to let this go, let Gaius off without a thorough explanation. For suspecting Arthur capable of murder. He brings the tray down silently, Gaius in front of him.
He sits stiffly upon handing out the tea, and doesn't take part in the small talk Gaius, Gwen and Morgana divulge in, the latter two sipping politely. Merlin, for one, doesn't like tea in general and this tea is horrible. But mostly, his brain is too busy working over their conversation, trying to figure out the puzzle spreading out before him.
The pieces have to fit together somehow. Something connects everything—Morgana in the dark on Merlin's true mission, Gaius's strange warning, Arthur's secrecy. Merlin is seeing everything, but through clouded, corrupted water. There's something yet to understand.
"Looks as though the rain won't hold out any longer," Morgana is saying, eyes flicking up to the window. Soft patters hit the glass, and Gaius stands to peer out of it.
"And the sky doesn't look too good." He turns back to them. "You might want to leave before it starts, I think. When I went outside this morning, I could tell today would be a stormy one. As the old proverbs say, when grass is dry at morning light, look for rain before the night."
"I doubt that's a proverb, Gaius," Morgana teases, rising. "Though I do agree we should get going. Grab Mordred, would you?" she asks Gwen, around whom Mordred is running circles.
They all get up, Mordred squirming in Gwen's arms till she hands him over to his mother.
"Have a nice evening, Gaius," Gwen says over her shoulder, opening the door.
"It won't be," Gaius harrumphs, "not with all the leaks in my attic."
The girls laugh, patting his arm as they pass and pull up their hoods, bracing before heading into the light rain.
Merlin makes to follow when he feels a light hand on his shoulder. "Another proverb for you, Merlin," Gaius says behind him. Merlin doesn't turn.
"The sudden storm lasts not three hours."
He lets go, and Merlin hurries into the rain, neck prickling.
The word of an old man, head riddled with age. Merlin tries to convince himself of that as he hurries through the rain to the parked car. Never mind the signs, clues hinting at the likelihood that Gaius might know more than anyone else. Maybe not what unleashed a malignant spirit on the household—but perhaps what Merlin is facing. The sudden storm lasts not three hours.
So when it hits, it will be quick.
In the time it takes for Mordred to be put in his booster seat and Gwen to put the car in reverse, the rain is pelting onto the windshield, blurring Gaius's retreat into a mess of green and brown. No one speaks, though Gwen's fingers have the wheel in a death grip, as the rain pours onto the roads and the wind bats against her steering. Security is already waiting at the front of the estate, umbrellas in hand, for them when they arrive ten minutes later.
"Thanks Leon," Merlin manages over the downpour, as the man helps him to the doors under his umbrella. The doors are open, Arthur standing and looking impatient inside. "That's twice you've saved my head now," he adds, and Leon gives him a half-smile.
"And I expect you'll repay me in full soon," the security man says drily, eyes glancing around the hall in a way that gives Merlin the distinct impression Leon is more aware of the goings on than he lets on.
Arthur grunts, looking irritated. Not murderous though, a stubborn part of Merlin takes note.
"All of you. What are you doing back so late? I was waiting since I got home—"
"It's my fault, Arthur," Gwen interrupts. "I went and bought things for Gaius, last minute. I didn't think it would take as long as it did."
Arthur looks like he's staring straight through her. "Right. Obviously none of you noticed the sky right above your heads."
"We got in before the worst of it hit," Morgana says flippantly, walking past Arthur. "I hope we didn't miss dinner, Mordred and I are starving."
"It's been put in the kitchens." Arthur sighs, pulling a hand through his hair. "You should all change your clothes, you might catch something."
With that he stalks away, leaving Merlin, Leon and Gwen in the hall. "He's probably right. You can come use my shower again, Merlin," Gwen says, and Merlin feels his face heat with Leon in earshot.
"No, you go ahead first. I'm more starving than I am wet," he tells her with a smile.
Ever since his bathroom started malfunctioning, she's been letting him use her shower—though usually by the time he wakes up to do so she's gone, already out or in her office. "Alright," Gwen shrugs. "I won't be long. I'll come find you when I'm done."
After that Merlin heads to the kitchens, making his way through the passages of Pendragon Estate with much more ease than he would have thought. The kitchen is rather hard to miss—on the south side of the first floor, right next to the grand dining hall Merlin feels like a mouse passing through. He encounters no one as he walks, no kitchen hand or security or Pendragon. It's a quiet, empty place.
But not the kitchens. Though its none of its rushed, aroma-filled splendor like that morning, Arthur of all people is sitting at a bar when Merlin enters, sipping a Coke thoughtfully. His face turns from unguarded to wary in an instant, upon seeing Merlin. "Just grabbing dinner," Merlin says in defense, crossing to a fridge.
"Not that one," Arthur says in a long-suffering tone, just as Merlin opens it to inspect. He begrudgingly finds the man to be correct.
With a sigh, Merlin turns around to look at the Pendragon. "Which one, then?" he almost snaps, impatient.
Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Moody tonight, I see. Nothing to do with hanging around women all day long, do you think?" His grin is sardonic, but playful.
Merlin feels a small smile against his lips, despite his effort. "Well, I'll make up for it. Another long night for you and I, my friend."
Arthur snorts. "Can't wait."
"I want to try something else, tonight," Merlin says earnestly, moving closer. "Something that might work better, I think. If you're up for it." The Possession Circle isn't getting them anywhere. But if Merlin can convince Arthur, there's a better chance—
"I should have known!"
Both Merlin and Arthur turn toward Morgana's shocked voice. She's standing at the doorway Merlin came through, Mordred darting between her feet.
Looking downright scandalized.
"Not-so-secret lovers," she states matter-of-factly, shaking her head. "I'd only hoped different."
18.
"Morgana, what are you on about?" Arthur says in an annoyed tone, clearly as confused as Merlin.
Until Merlin remembers.
She puts her hands on her hips, smirking. "You're either Arthur's pity project, his not-so-secret lover—" Merlin makes a gagging sound that she ignores, "—or his drug dealer. Or at the least, his fellow druggee."
"Morgana, we are not—" Merlin struggles with the word.
"Not what? What—does she mean us, lovers?" Arthur supplies, disbelieving. Morgana nods.
Arthur looks affronted. "HELL. NO."
She stares at the pair of them with slitted eyes. "Alright, fine. Then explain to me what you two were just talking to each other about." She crosses her arms. "You and I? Spending the night together? Trying something new? Making things work better? If you're up for it?"
Merlin feels like bursting out laughing more with each passing second. Arthur's face, turning the color of a tomato, Morgana, smile smug and eyebrows raised. It is laughable that anyone would think such a thing, but even more laughable to hear how . . . well, believable it is. Without the whole information.
"Morgana—" Merlin starts, in a last ditch-effort. He's not even sure what weak excuse he plans on making.
A muffled scream followed by a sharp crash comes from above them.
With that Arthur's face changes remarkably back from tomato red, to bone white. "Guinevere," he whispers immediately. His stool screeches as he jolts to his feet, eyes on the ceiling above him.
"What—do you think something's happened?" Morgana says, mirth gone from her voice. Arthur doesn't answer. "Arthur!"
Arthur makes a run for the door, glancing back at both of them. "Probably an accident," he says quickly, "I'll check on her."
"Don't follow me!" he adds over his shoulder, disappearing into the hall. Morgana and Merlin share a brief look of shock, worry, concern—then Merlin follows right behind him.
Screams? Crashes? Freak Accidents? This is his area of expertise.
When Merlin reaches Gwen's door on the second level—only managing to find it from three days of using her shower—Arthur is barely swinging it shut. Merlin stops instinctively upon hearing the voices on the other side.
"No, don't come in—!" Gwen exclaims before cutting off. "Oh. It's just you, Arthur."
"What. Happened."
Merlin can't make out Gwen's reply till her voice raises a bit, saying, "—and I saw his face, Arthur! I truly did. I know you don't believe . . . " she resumed in a lower tone, out of Merlin's earshot. He probably shouldn't be listening to a couple's private conversation anyway. But if Gwen saw something . . . he presses his ear against the door.
Then things get audible.
"That doesn't explain how the glass shattered," Arthur says, frustrated.
"I don't have an explanation. Not one you'd like to hear, anyway."
"Enlighten me. Or let me guess—you think he did this? Popped up in your mirror, over-turned your vanity table and simultaneously shattered the mirror just to—what? Frighten you out of your towel?"
"Is this still so hard to believe? After everything, after seeing with your own eyes, after Merlin himself confirmed it—"
"Merlin Emrys is a harmless idiot who wouldn't know a ghost from his own shadow."
"You can't honestly believe that, Arthur."
Silence. Merlin, meanwhile, inwardly wondering if Gaius just had it backward—no, instead HE was going to kill Arthur.
Eventually Arthur sighs. "Here, put on some clothes, would you?"
"I'm sorry to be so exposed in front of you." Her voice is sardonic, and tired.
"Guinevere . . . "
She mumbles something Merlin can't make out, and the two start talking so gently he only catches phrases like " . . . been tired, and stressed . . . " and " . . . understand that? I look at you and see . . . " and " . . . Arthur, I love you . . . "
Merlin realizes he should probably back up and tiptoe away when only the sound of what is likely lips, and most definitely sighs and rustling fabric, come through the door. Especially when the bed-springs bounce a little, and Gwen's quiet laugh filters to his ears. He walks backward a little, shaking his head. Looks as though Arthur and I won't be spending the night together after all.
He turns, grinning, and runs straight into Morgana.
After mouthing a sorry, helping her regain her balance, she whispers,"What did I miss?" Her voice is conspiratorial, eyes flitting to the closed door.
"Mmmm, well, I think Arthur and Gwen are rather busy in there." Merlin winks. "Best we ask about her well-being tomorrow. Though I doubt she'll reply in the negative."
It takes just a moment before he can tell she understands. Then Morgana's lips quirk in a slightly amused, slightly relieved smile.
They walk back in silence, Morgana ahead. Merlin notices a little toddler's absence only when he is halfway down the stairs. "Where's Mordred?" he inquires, no longer whispering.
"Oh, I had Eira put him to bed. Poor tyke was tired out from so much effort tiring you out." She pauses and smiles up at him, down a few stairs ahead. "Thanks, by the way, for today. Can't have been how you thought you'd spend a day at Pendragon Estate," her voice lilts the title with flourish, smirking, "chasing after a two year old."
"So he's not 2 and a half, then?"
Morgana tilts her head—endearingly, Merlin might add.
"Technically yes." She frowns at him, obviously confused. Merlin just shakes his head, smiling.
They reach the foot of the stairs, and Morgana turns sharply to face Merlin again, eyes determined but smile hesitant. "Do you still need a wash?"
Before Merlin can shrug or reply neutrally she rushes on, "I have two baths, since it's me and Mordred. You—you're welcome to use one, seeing as Gwen's is no longer available tonight."
"That'd be great, thanks," he nods, smiling a little.
She nods back, clasping her hands together. "Great. Alright."
She lets out a breath, but then sucks it back in—"Oh! But you're probably still hungry. So," Morgana shrugs, "later then."
"Sure." Merlin's eyes follow as she heads back up the steps. When Morgana glances behind her, their eyes meet briefly. "Later."