Werewolf of London: Chapter 11
London, England February 14th, 1851
It had been a week since Merlin and Arthur confessed to one another. Now they were lounging on Arthur’s bed after making love. Arthur had his head on Merlin’s chest and Merlin was playing with Arthur’s hair. They just lay there, listening to the other breathe.
“Arthur?” Merlin asked suddenly.
“Mhhm?” was Arthur’s sleepy response.
“What is your middle name?”
Arthur sat up and turned to give Merlin a puzzled look. “What are you talking about?”
“Well,” said Merlin as he scooted up to lean against the headboard, “last week when you sent me that message, inviting me to the party, you signed it ‘Arthur A. Pendragon’. I just wondered what the ‘A’ stood for.”
“Oh, um, well, you see,” Arthur flushed lightly and fidgeted with the bed sheets. “It was my grandfather’s name. I was named Arthur after my mother’s father and my middle name comes from my father’s father.”
“What is it?”
“I do not think I should tell you.”
“What?” Merlin squawked. “I told you my middle name. Fair is fair, Arthur.”
“Fine,” Arthur huffed. Then he mumbled something Merlin couldn’t hear.
“I am sorry? Please repeat that.”
Arthur mumbled again and Merlin frowned. “Arthur, I cannot hear you.”
“Anlawd, all right! It is Anlawd!”
Merlin bit his lip and tried to hide his laughter. Arthur narrowed his eyes at his lover. “You can laugh, it is fine.”
Merlin tipped over on his side and let out a loud laugh. “Anlawd! And you gave me grief over my middle name!” He pound his fist on the bed lightly and kept howling with laughter. He finally sat up and panted to catch his breath. Tears ran down his cheeks and his eyes were still watering from how hard he laughed.
“Well, your middle name is just so normal compared to you first name.”
“Yours is the complete opposite!” Merlin wiped at his eyes. Then he glanced at Arthur, who was glaring daggers at his bed sheets. “Now, do not be like that.” He tugged on Arthur’s arm, pulling him closer. Merlin kissed his cheek and continued, “Stop being a prat. We should be able to make fun of each other.”
“I know that,” Arthur pouted. He leaned against Merlin’s side and threw a possessive arm across Merlin’s chest. “I am just not used to it.”
“I still love you, no matter what your middle name is.”
“Good,” Arthur replied. He pulled Merlin’s head down to his and kissed him. “I love you too.” They kissed for awhile longer, before Arthur pulled away and asked, “Where did your middle name come from?”
“My mother’s father,” Merlin mumbled. He was concentrating more on pushing Arthur down onto the bed and kissing this collarbone.
“Where did ‘Merlin’ come from then?” Arthur groaned and arched up slightly.
“Mother said it came from my father’s side of the family.”
“He did not tell you?”
Merlin pulled away from Arthur and looked down at him in bafflement. “I never knew my father. He left before I was born.”
“What?”
“Did you not know?”
Arthur shook his head. “You never told me.”
“Huh,” Merlin scrunched his nose up. “I was sure that I had.”
“He just left?” Arthur clutched Merlin’s hips and just held onto them.
“He did. Mother never told me why and I never asked. It seemed too painful for her.” Merlin took the opportunity and began to grind against Arthur.
Arthur let out a small moan and tried to focus back on the conversation. “That is just...terrible.”
“Really?” Merlin smirked down at Arthur. He enjoyed the other mans reactions.
“How did she...make it in London?” Arthur gasped.
“Gaius helped her. She worked for him for awhile then found work from others,” Merlin replied. He was panting as well. He leaned down and kissed Arthur. “Let us not talk about my mother while doing this, eh?”
“Good idea.” He flipped Merlin onto his back and grinned down at him. “It makes it much less fun.”
February 16th, 1851
Two days later, Arthur and Merlin were resting in the lounge of the Pendragon house. Merlin was reading a book over in his window seat while Arthur was at the desk looking over some numbers from the family business. Merlin glanced over at Arthur and saw the other man rub at the bracelet around his wrist absently.
“Is the bracelet bothering you?” he asked worriedly.
“It seems to itch more than usual.” Arthur then began to scratch his wrist roughly. He winced in pain and looked down. “Damn,” he swore. “I have made it bleed.”
Merlin jumped up from his seat and went over to Arthur. He took Arthur’s wrist and tsked. “Gaius’ cream is not helping at all?”
“It does sometimes, but not all the time.”
Merlin tugged lightly on Arthur’s wrist to pull him up and then led him to the kitchen. “I will have to ask him about it.” Merlin took the bracelet off, rolled up Arthur’s sleeve and stuck Arthur’s wrist under the tap. “Hold still.” He turned the water on and let it rise off some of the blood. Then he found some bandages and wrapped Arthur’s wrist up.
“Thank you,” Arthur said softly as he kissed Merlin.
“My pleasure,” Merlin smiled.
As they walked back to the lounge, Merlin looked over Arthur’s bracelet. It seemed different somehow. Merlin had made it out of thin strips of leather he twisted into the required shape. Then he intertwined them, leaving enough room for Gaius to add the herbs. Finally, he added some metal clasps on either end, so it would stay on more securely. It had seemed to work at first: Arthur didn’t get as angry, didn’t growl as much, and even stopped trying to protect Merlin all the time before the bracelet was placed on him. However, ever since the incident with Sophia and Valiant, the bracelet seemed to stop working. It was like the wolf in Arthur broke the barrier made by Merlin and Gaius.
Merlin didn’t think that was a good thing.
He handed the bracelet back to Arthur, who only held out his wrist. “You put it on me,” he said. “You did last time and I do not know how that clasp works.”
“You never take it off?” Merlin asked he put the bracelet back on Arthur.
“No!” Arthur said in an affronted tone of voice. “You said to wear it all the time, so I did.”
Merlin smiled softly at Arthur and kissed his head. Arthur grinned up at him and went back to work. Merlin stared down at his lover for a bit, then went back to his book. Sometimes, Arthur does surprise me in the best way.
February 18th, 1851
The moon was full and rising. Dark, thick clouds occasionally covered the moon, but never for long. People scurried inside their homes or into pubs as it began to rain steadily. The only people still outside were laborers, vagabonds, and prostitutes. Valiant, however, was none of these. He was just trying to make his way from one gambling hall to another. He leered at a prostitute as he passed by her. She winked at him, but turned to talk to a customer.
I will come back for her later, he smirked. He cut down an alleyway and paused at the end of it, making sure no carriages came speeding through. Would not want to get run over.
As he made his way across the street Valiant thought he saw a shadow jump over his head. He looked up in confusion, but saw nothing. He shrugged and continued on his path. He turned right at a crossing and made his way down a deserted street. Some pebbles fell from above him, but when he looked, he still couldn’t see anything.
Just as Valiant was about to reach his preferred gambling hall, something caught him on the back of his jacket. He was lifted up a few feet before being thrown into an alley that had no exit. Valiant landed on some discard boxes and other trash. He shook his head to clear it; being thrown around was very disorienting.
Valiant looked around, trying to see what had grabbed him. At the moment he looked down the alley, the moon, clear of all clouds, shined brightly down upon him. Then, from what seemed like out of nowhere, a dog stepped in front of him. All Valiant could see was the outline of the animal.
“Feh,” he muttered as he stood up and wiped the grime off his clothes. “Get out of here, you mangy beast.” He took a step forward, but stopped as the dog growled at him. He glared at it and said, “I mean it! Get out of my way or taste the sole of my boot!”
The dog suddenly howled and stood up on its back legs. It soon towered above Valiant, who was at least six feet tall. Valiant’s eyes widened in panic and he tried to run out of the alley. The beast blocked him and threw him back again.
“Wh-what do you w-want?” he stuttered and struggled to his feet.
The beast growled and stepped out of the shadows and into the moonlight. Valiant recoiled in horror as he saw a massive man-wolf-thing in front of him. It must have stood seven or eight feet high and it had paws that looked like hands. Attached to those hand-paws were five claws that were each seven inches long and they looked thick enough to cut through bone, if needed. The beast was blond and had unnaturally blue eyes. Its face was mainly made up of a mouth and a nose, or so Valiant thought. It took a deep sniff, with its long nose, and walked closer to Valiant. Its mouth was hanging open slightly as it panted and its mouth seemed to water.
“Wh-what are you?” Valiant asked as he backed into a corner. As his back hit the wall, he knew he had made the wrong decision. The beast came closer and closer until it blocked any path of escape. “Please, do not kill me,” Valiant whimpered.
It leaned in close to Valiant’s neck and inhaled. The beast pulled back and opened its mouth in an approximation of a grin. It seemed to being mocking Valiant. He would have been angry if he hadn’t been so scared. Valiant opened his mouth, intending to bargain with the animal, when it raised one of its paws and swiped at him.
Valiant looked down and saw blood bloom upon his shirt. He looked back at the beast and cried out as it attacked him again. Soon, his screams died down and were replaced by victorious howling.
Merlin sat up straight in his bed and began to fumble for his robe. Tonight was the first full moon since they had come back from Bromley Green. He had wanted to stay with Arthur, but Arthur wouldn’t hear of it.
“You have to work early tomorrow,” Arthur had said as he tried shoved Merlin out the door.
“So?” Merlin replied. He dug his feet against the door jam and held onto Arthur’s arm.
“I do not want to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow. Plus, we should be able spend some nights apart you know?”
“I know, I just...” Merlin trailed off, unsure of how to finish.
“Yes, yes. I adore you too. Now be off.” He bussed Merlin’s cheek and succeed in pushing him out.
Merlin had placed his hand on the door and sighed. “Good luck, Arthur.” Then he turned and left for home.
Now, though, Merlin wished he would have gone back to Arthur’s and insisted on staying the night. He knew Arthur was in trouble. He didn’t wake up in the middle of the night for any other reason. Merlin glanced out the window as he threw his robe on. It wasn’t the middle of the night after all, but almost dawn.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Merlin swore as he raced down the stairs and to his front door. He opened it and nearly tripped on a naked Arthur, who was lying face down on the doorstep. “Shit!”
Merlin looked around and cast a levitation spell on Arthur to get him inside and upstairs and into his bedroom. As he lay Arthur down on his bed, he noticed some blood. Concerned he wiped Arthur down with a spell.
“He has no cuts. So whose blo-” Merlin cut himself off and stared at Arthur. He had known that, as a werewolf, Arthur terrorized and killed many of the Romanians who had turned him into the werewolf. He never thought Arthur would kill someone in London. “Who would he even kill?” Merlin muttered to himself. “What about the herbs to keep him in check?” Merlin looked for Arthur’s bracelet, but saw that it was gone. “Damn it. I have to talk to Gaius about this.”
Merlin took his robe off and climbed into bed with Arthur. He didn’t know how he was going to explain this, but he did know it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Chapter 12