53.
When Merlin's phone buzzes in his back pocket he nearly jumps. Considering he's become a living pillow the past hour and a half, it's been relatively quiet up here. So much so Merlin is surprised Gaius hasn't come up yet to check if they're still alive.
Mordred sleeps like a log where he is between Merlin's calves, clutching one like a pillow. Morgana is stirring from where her head rests on his lap, blinking at him blearily as he fishes out the buzzing device.
He gives her a soft smile as he answers and puts it to his ear.
"Hello?" he half-whispers, keeping as still as he can while she settles back on his lap, and Merlin realizes belatedly he never checked caller ID.
"Merlin? Sorry if this is a bad time."
He nearly jumps all over again in recognition of Gwen's voice, sounding completely normal, if a bit worried. "Oh! Oh, no, not at all," he says, adjusting his volume quickly.
"All right. I called because I, well, Morgana wasn't answering hers." She laughs hesitantly. "Is she with you, then?"
"Erm yeah, she is actually," he answers, and for some reason Merlin finds himself flushing. Perhaps at the relatively innocent assumption that Morgana would be with him. "She's actually resting right now, though. Not sure if I should wake her up."
A short, judgmental silence follows before Gwen breaks it with an amused, "Do you two have something to tell me?"
He has to stop himself from letting out the short maniacal laugh that's threatening to burst from his mouth. Not because of the absurdity of such an idea-mostly because he's not entirely sure they don't have something to tell her.
But then there's telling Arthur. Shite. "No, Mordred's asleep as well right here, I swear Gwen. Can I take a message?" he says, proud of how steady his voice sounds.
She sighs though the phone. "No, I don't think . . . well. Could you perhaps tell me, Merlin? Was she alright—when Arthur told her?"
Merlin frowns, understanding. "She's fine, Gwen. It's you we're all worried about."
She sighs a another heavy breath into the speaker. "No, she's blaming herself. I know it. She always does.
Ever since what happened with me and Lancelot she just-"
"Hold on a second there. What do you mean you and Lancelot."
"Come on Merlin. I know you're smarter than you look, even if Arthur doesn't."
Merlin can't exactly argue with that. "But what does Morgana have to do with it?"
"She . . . its not her fault. Not completely. Lancelot and I made the choice."
"Gwen."
Something in his tone seems to persuade her. "Morgana fooled me into thinking Arthur was cheating on me with his secretary, and sort of implied he'd want me to move on as well. That our secret marriage didn't mean anything to him anymore. Just to hurt him, I think. And he was acting distant, thanks to all the problems he and his father had been having, and I let myself believe it, Uther's decline in health, the formation of the inner circle-" Gwen cuts off, sucking in a horrified breath. "Uh, I mean-"
"Too late, Gwen, Percival already disillusioned me about that one," Merlin can't help but inform, and she gives a weak chuckle.
"I'm sorry, Merlin. We're a nasty web of deception, all of us in Pendragon estate. But you have to understand-"
"They're all still in danger, everyone in the inner circle, including you Gwen. That's who Uther is targeting," Merlin finishes for her, and a stunned silence follows through the phone from her end. "Or their children, like Mordred. And your . . . Gwen, I'm so sorry."
"I am too. But you're going to stop him, aren't you?" she replies, voice surprisingly steady. It doesn't sound too much like a question. "You're going to take Arthur with you, and you two will defeat his father together."
Merlin is taken back by the confidence in her voice, the surety. "I don't know if I can," he answers honestly, doubt sprouting in his head. "I don't even know if Arthur believes me yet."
"He knew from the beginning," Gwen says. "He stubbornly refused to admit, but I know he did. And he'll listen to you, Merlin, if he'll listen to anyone." Her words stun him.
But Merlin never could help being snide. "Are we talking about the same Arthur here?"
She laughs. "Perhaps not. But whichever Arthur he is currently, he's on his way to Gaius's to speak with you this very moment."
Merlin raises his eyebrows, blanching. "No more business affairs to take care of?"
"Sefa is taking care of the rest. He left a while ago, so I'm sure he'll be there soon. And I shouldn't keep you any longer."
"Right. Well, feel better Gwen," he adds, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she replies, "Thank you, Merlin," before hanging up.
Merlin sighs long and hard after, unable to recall any case this complicated in all his time as a medium, nor as severe. Gwen and Percival in a hospital, Mordred and Merlin nearly drowned. Gwaine long dead but still kicking, Nimueh long dead but still haunting the present. In some ways she has achieved immortality-in Merlin's mind, forever imprinted there. No matter how hard he tries to forget, she will always be there haunting him, interrupting his daily life. And, in this case, demanding to be remembered.
"Is she alright, then?"
Morgana's voice startles him from his thoughts, and Merlin looks down to find her green eyes wide and aware staring up at him. She's probably been awake for awhile, has probably heard most of the conversation.
He shrugs, answering, "She seemed more worried about you, actually."
Morgana shakes her head, sitting up. Her eyes travel to little Mordred, still fast asleep clutching Merlin's calf like a pillow, as she says, "She shouldn't. She deserves what I have."
"You don't believe in redemption?" he raises an eyebrow at her, and her eyes are resigned as she looks back at him.
"I don't believe I'll be given a chance at it," Morgana replies, the candor in her voice unmistakable.
"I don't think that's your problem," Merlin shakes his head, smiling sadly. "I think you have your own personal ghost haunting you, and despite your ability you haven't exorcised it quite yet."
She laughs harshly, saying, "Don't we all?" before gently tapping on Mordred's shoulder. The toddler blinks sleepy blue eyes, mouth dimpling into the smallest of smiles as he recognizes Morgana and Merlin looking down at him. He crawls into her arms, burrowing into her hair with a contented sigh before falling asleep again.
Morgana strokes the child's dark hair, murmuring, "Even Arthur has a ghost haunting him still ."
"Uther, you mean," Merlin responds, and when she doesn't contradict him he continues, "he's a spirit like any other, albeit a horrible one. But the term ghost-it just inspires intimidation."
"I'm not talking about spirits," she shakes her head, standing with Mordred. Merlin catches her hand before she can go far, and Morgana looks down at it before meeting his eyes. "Ghosts," she says by way of explanation, matter-of-fact and yet more than a little scared. "They're real. They come creeping in the night, in those dark corners of the mind. They howl regrets and moan grievances and shake chains, our chains. I see them in my dreams, Merlin." Her voice shakes at the end, and her hand squeezes his tightly.
Mordred sleeps on in her arms, oblivious. "They're real and, I swear, we make them real."
54.
Arthur arrives not ten minutes later. Morgana is upstairs putting Mordred to bed still, Merlin and Gaius sipping some grassy-flavored tea when they hear the door open below. Merlin more pretending to sip than really doing so, actually, so he is glad for the excuse to go downstairs and abandon his cup.
"You greet him," Gaius tells him as he rises, the old man not standing himself. "I feel sure Arthur wants to speak with you more than me."
Merlin frowns at him, but he says no more-just merely makes a shooing motion to have Merlin off..
When he reaches the bottom of the stairs Arthur doesn't turn his way. He's seemingly frozen, and by his profile Merlin can see he's staring at what rests on the side table, smooth and glimmering under the low lamplight. Deeply cracked down its ivory center.
"Hey there," Merlin breaks the silence, and Arthur's spine visibly stiffens before he spins to face him, face morphing so quickly from fear to indifference Merlin almost wonders if he's imagined the former.
"Merlin," Arthur nods by way of greeting. His voice is stiff as his spine, terribly formal, reminding Merlin of their first meeting. This time of course he wears a loose shirt and jeans as opposed to the three-piece suit Merlin met him in. It makes for a wide contrast from his voice and bearing.
"Arthur," Merlin nods back, though he can't stop a smirk from tugging at his lips at copying the action. Arthur, of course, catches it, and rolls his eyes.
"Let's be frank with one another," his employer scowls lightly, crossing his arms. Merlin simply raises an eyebrow in answer, so the man continues, "I haven't trusted you. You seemed like a dundering idiot, and I only kept you on to please Gwen. Then you proved to be slightly less of an idiot, even insightful at times, and I suspected you as some gifted, unassuming spy of Gormause Inc. Now you've saved my life from a flying dagger, wormed your way into all of our heads and secrets, and I'm left bereft." He draws nearer, arms still crossed, and stares at Merlin under thick eyebrows. "Who are you?"
"Someone much too complex to describe in a mere sentence," he replies with a shrug.
Merlin's witticism is lost on Arthur. "Can I trust you, Merlin?" he asks, eyes all but burning holes through him. Merlin almost feels the need to gulp.
But he surprises Arthur with a hand on the shoulder, gripping it tight. "We have to trust each other," Merlin insists, and Arthur's eyes widen slightly. "For Gwen and Morgana, and Mordred and the rest of those at Pendragon Estate."
Something unspoken passes between them; an understanding, that one cares as much as the other for the people who depend on them. Eventually Arthur nods, and Merlin's hand drops away as the former adds,
"Pendragon Estate is officially empty. Leon just called to report so. At least for the night, no one but the spirit will be there."
"Sounds like perfect conditions for my kind of work," he smirks, and Arthur even smiles a bit back. "Although before we get to that, I need to catch you up on a bit."
Arthur watches silently as Merlin passes him to the side table, who picks up the cracked horn and gently holds it out between them. When he opens his mouth to speak, however, Arthur beats him to it.
"I stabbed Percival with the knife," he blurts out, looking a bit green. Merlin can feel his eyes bug out-well, so much for easing into that topic. "I don't remember doing it," Arthur shakes his head, voice tight, "but I just finally went to see him, and he says—I, I can't deny it. It was me."
His head is lowered, as if expecting Merlin to clap irons on him or berate him like an obstinate child. Merlin feels like laughing at the idea. "I know."
You know?" Arthur looks affronted, head snapping up. His expression morphs into anger, misinterpreting the amusement in Merlin's voice. "What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, erm—"
"You just called up some spirit and asked them, right? You just sensed it?" He spits out the words, spiteful now, though his eyes look a bit betrayed.
When Merlin's mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, Arthur surprises him by sighing, running a hand through his hair. "Bloody hell. I'm tired of you people. My whole dodging life I thought it was just Morgana, but then Morgause, and then Cara—"
"Wait. Cara?" Merlin steps nearer, just as Arthur steps back. The man swallows, like he's trying to take his last words back.
But it suddenly makes sense. "You know Cara?"
Arthur shrugs, though his eyes are wary. "You know Cara?"
"Knew her, "Merlin corrected quickly. He feels like ripping out his hair. Will Nimueh never let me rest in peace? "She's the one who introduced me to . . . well, this." He pulls up his right sleeve roughly, though Arthur barely glances at the triskelion tattoo.
"She's the reason you became a druid?" he raises an eyebrow, and Merlin huffs.
"Not the reason. Don't give me that look. Just an influence," he defends, though this seems a petty part of the bigger picture. "Regardless-how do you know her?"
"I don't, not really," Arthur shakes his head, looking strangely guilty all of a sudden. "I was looking for Morgause. She'd helped me in the past, and I went where we met when I . . ."
"When you spoke with your mother," Merlin says for him, filling this in easily as he recalls his conversation with Ygraine. Arthur glares at him before continuing.
"Yes, well, I wanted to speak with my father. Apologize for some things-it doesn't really matter, what matters is that Cara was there instead. She told me Morgause was letting her live there, but she could help me. She gave me that," he gestures to the horn in Merlin's hands, grimacing, "in fact seemed quite glad to be rid of it."
Merlin feels like face-palming. Didn't Harry Potter teach you anything about strangers wanting strange objects off their hands! Saying that won't really help the situation, however, so Merlin merely listens on as Arthur explains, "She warned me to not turn my back after speaking with my father, that I had to immediately heed the call when it came to me to leave."
"Did you?" Merlin presses, sure of the opposite.
Arthur looks affronted. "Of course I did! And I didn't think much of it until everyone started crying ghost after the chandelier incident. And then, when Percival got hurt, I . . ."
"You called me," Merlin supplies. "Or at least, you had your secretary do so."
"How did I do that?" Arthur whispers. His eyes look a bit lost, and somehow Merlin knows the man isn't talking about calling him up.
"You didn't." Merlin hands over the cracked horn, which his employer takes with gentle care, frowning down at it. "You called your father from the after life with this and somehow allowed him into ours. And when he saw what has changed, who you've become, he lashed out. Through you."
Arthur's face lifts slowly, eyes filled with a contained kind of horror. He swallows thickly, repeating, "Through me?" in a question. Though the answer is already there in his mind, Merlin can tell.
"He temporarily . . . possessed you, is the only way to put it. Though why it was only temporary I can't say."
"Possession? Is that even real?" Arthur asks dubiously, and Merlin wouldn't blame him. I wouldn't, if I hadn't experienced it myself.
"Very. I think that's what happened to Gwen, actually, why she went up into that burning room."
Arthur's face whitens, and he shakes his head rapidly. "No, no I don't believe it. My father, he-he wouldn't-"
"Morgana as well, Arthur," Merlin insists, grimacing at having to relay such information. Arthur stares at him, silent again. "We . . . she tried to kill me. Gaius exorcised him from the premises just in time. It wasn't until then that she could stop herself." Arthur's eyes flicker down, and Merlin can feel his gaze on his neck. It makes him flush, remembering exactly what occurred just before Morgana's possession, even if these were anything but the marks of love.
"And Arthur, there's more, more I haven't been telling you," Merlin bites his lip, wondering how to go about this. The visions Uther had imposed on him, his own connection to the horn resting in Arthur's hands . . .
Arthur lets out a short, bark of a laugh. "Honestly, Merlin," he says, the corners of his mouth tugging up wryly, "You're practically one of us now."
A/N: This is definitely THE LEAST I have ever edited a chapter before posting. I just feel so bad leaving you all hanging for so long, so sorry for any and all mistakes found!
If you'd like to hear about my life, assuming somebody does, basically I directed a play I'd written and the theatre gods were against me. I did manage to pull it off (somehow) and I'm really proud of it, but that drained a good two months out of me. THEN I made a split decision to move more than 1,000 miles away three days before doing so, barely settled in before I got my FIRST REAAL JOB! That's right this girl's an ADULT now. And since then...its hard to pick up things after so long, ya know? But I did, because I hate being a quitter.
I WILL FINISH THIS. Though I'll be honest and admit I need a good amount of support to do so. You guys have been with me for months, some for more than a year, and I really appreciate it. You are all amazing. Please be with me for these last (two, hopefully) months. This update is just a bridge back into the plot but I'll really need you for the rest of it.
Doesn't it feel great to be needed?