The Only People Who Have Clients (are prostitutes and lawyers) 3/3
Summary: from kinkme_merlin prompt found here, Merlin is being trialed in court for murder. Arthur is his lawyer and falls for BAMF!Merlin while fighting Merlin's case.
Word Count: ~16,000
Notes: Hopefully I did the prompt justice. It was written for the meme's Spring Fever and reposted here just to I can keep my masterlist nice and tidy.
Warnings: Mentions of intoxication (drugs&alcohol), mentions of murder (plus descriptions), mentions of character death, violence, brief mention of prostitution, brief mention of rape, a thoroughly warped/corrupt justice/legal system, stillbirth. I also know nothing about law, so everything's just a fantasy in my mind.
The Only People Who Have Clients
(are prostitutes and lawyers)
Part Three
.
For some strange reason, Merlin kept coming back. Every other night (or third night, depending), Merlin would be waiting at Arthur's door with a book in his lap and a bored expression on his face. They always went inside (and yeah, it might have been a bit awkward the first time, but Arthur was a man and he'd gotten over it pretty quickly), had a drink - which had then extended to Arthur cooking dinner, or Merlin bringing over home cooked meals to be heated up - and then retired to the lounge to chat.
The boarders of a professional-client relationship blurred and Arthur came to know Merlin as two people. There was the one Merlin, the one who was adamant he was guilty of murder, and then there was the other Merlin, his friend who liked to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings and talking to Arthur.
Tonight was different. Instead of sitting outside the door, Merlin was absent. It had been two days now that Merlin hadn't showed and Arthur had been expecting him all day. It was like a (small) punch to the gut to see his welcome mat devoid of any Merlin, but the time had to come soon. Merlin had better things to do than hang around his lawyer.
He unlocked the door, walking in and heading for the kitchen. He dropped his briefcase as he realised that, no, Merlin hadn't been outside… but inside.
"What the…" Arthur began as Merlin stepped out from the kitchen counter with a smile.
"Hi honey, how was your day? Hard work at the office? The kids are asleep and dinner will be ready in half an hour." Merlin winked after his high-pitched spiel before wandering back to tend to the pans on the stove.
"How did you get in?" Arthur asked incredulously. Merlin looked back at him with a bored stare.
"Almost all my friends are pretty criminals. Picking a lock is easy when you know the tricks of the trade." Merlin shrugged and Arthur decided this was another thing he didn't want to know about. "Besides, I thought I'd actually cook something. Not let my mother pass leftovers on me, which I then pass onto you and we have to reheat."
Merlin wrinkled his nose. "Reheated food doesn't ever quite taste the same," he lamented, pointing a wooden spoon covered in red sauce at Arthur. "Now, you go change and I'll carry on here, okay?"
Still slightly stunned by seeing Merlin in his kitchen (and was that a 'kiss the chef' apron?), Arthur wandered into his room to change, slipping into jeans and a t-shirt before heading back to where Merlin was dishing up some kind of sausage casserole dish.
As it turned out, Merlin had inherited his cooking skills from Hunith and the meal was delicious. He felt even more satisfied by the smallest blush appeared on Merlin's cheeks after his praise, aided by the wine they'd been drinking.
"So," Merlin said after dinner, sprawled across one of Arthur's sofas. His feet rested against Arthur's thigh, toes wriggling under socks. "I kissed you the other night."
He said it so casually, as if commenting that it was raining or that a bird had just landed in a tree. No one was ever this blunt to Arthur, shrouding whatever it was that needed to be said in layers of hints or gestures.
Everyone but Merlin of course.
"Yeah," he responded pathetically, glancing down as Merlin's toes curled against his leg.
"And I broke into your house today," Merlin continued and Arthur could feel his stare on his skin. He looked back, nodding slowly. "You didn't throw me out."
He sprung up from where he had been laying, turning over so that his head was closest to Arthur now, on all fours balanced on the sofa.
"If I didn't know any better," he muttered and it was all Arthur could do not to grab him there and then, "I'd say you had a soft spot for me."
It was as much a challenge as he'd ever get and Arthur launched into it head-first, reaching for Merlin's collar and pulling him closer. As soon as possible, he pressed his lips to Merlin's, kissing him properly rather than the pathetic cheek-kiss Merlin had offered.
Arthur mentioned this point between kisses and Merlin laughed, throwing his head back for a moment and offering his neck up for Arthur. Hands moved around Arthur's shoulders to clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt as he mouthed upwards, seeking Merlin's lips slowly, tauntingly.
Swinging a leg over Arthur's thighs, Merlin was suddenly on his lap, pressing against him. Arthur felt the smirk in their kiss before Merlin pushed their hips together, moving his lips to whisper into Arthur's ear.
"You know, I thought you were a bit of a prat when we first met, but I still fancied the pants off you." He pulled back with a grin, feigning ignorance as to why Arthur didn't offer a reply, instead focusing on his breathing, determined not to let Merlin win the game between them.
Merlin scooted off then, grabbing Arthur by the hand and leading him to his room.
"How did you-"
Merlin grinned. "I had over an hour of wandering around here before you got home," he pressed Arthur against the wall, next to the door of his bedroom. This time Arthur couldn't stifle the groan that escaped his throat as Merlin rubbed against him.
"So I decided to explore a bit." And then Merlin was gone, pushing the door open and walking back until he hit the end of the bed.
In the doorway, Arthur probably looked as lost as he felt and all it took from Merlin was a tilt of the chin before he joined, him, seizing the moment and pushing him back on the bed. He grazed his teeth over the pulse point in Merlin's neck, pressing feathered kisses where his teeth scraped skin as Merlin worked to remove his top, scrabbling a little awkwardly.
They ended up pressed close together, Merlin over Arthur. Their kisses were languid, sloppy and full of thousands of words they hadn't said yet.
"I'm scared," Merlin whispered, resting his forehead on Arthur's shoulder for a moment and Arthur knew he wasn't scared because of anything between them.
"I know," Arthur replied, pulling him down for a kiss. "But we'll be okay, yeah? You and me."
Merlin's answering smile was blinding as he moved forwards, trailing down with a grin.
.
Arthur woke with a grinning Merlin looking at him. In the night they'd migrated over so that they were sharing the same pillow, squished together comfortably. He sat up, stretching his arms as Merlin rolled over, wriggling with his arms spread over Arthur's bed.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked after watching Merlin wriggle around, burrowing his head between the pillows. Merlin paused, blinking owlishly up at Arthur.
"Making a Merlin-imprint in your bed so that you know I was the best you've ever had and that, even when we're sadly apart, I'm still here." He flashed a grin. "And you have a very springy mattress."
If anyone else had said that, Arthur would have thought them a bit creepy (okay, very creepy), but this was Merlin and, for some bizarre reason, it worked for him.
"I'm going to use your toothbrush, unless you tell me there's a spare." Merlin climbed off the bed, naked, and walked over to the ensuite. Arthur followed his progress hungrily, ignoring the question completely until Merlin poked his head back out, a familiar brush stuck in his mouth.
"Merlin that's disgusting," he said, shaking his head. Merlin shrugged, babbling about something that Arthur couldn't understand before he vanished again, turning the tap on.
"What I said," he repeated when he was done, wiping toothpaste from the corner of his mouth, "Was that I did ask, but you were too busy watching me walk around with no clothes on." He shook his head, tutting mockingly. "Terrible, just terrible."
Rolling his eyes, but with a smile, Arthur flopped back on the bed. Merlin climbed back in, fitting to his side as soon as he was under the covers, his limbs dangling over Arthur's chest. The position should have been awkward, but it was comfortable, nice even.
(How long was it since Arthur had last woken up beside someone? And by someone, he meant someone who actually meant something.)
"About what I said last night," Merlin said quietly, against Arthur's chest. "I meant it."
Arthur pulled him closer, kissing his head and running a hand over Merlin's spine.
"It's be okay," he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "We'll sort it out."
He didn't promise though. He couldn't.
.
They'd planned it, over dinner, before and after sex, when Arthur was showering and Merlin peering in the mirror, when Merlin was showering and Arthur pretending he wasn't looking in the mirror at him, and then in their shared shower. Merlin was willing to try, to try and get a reduced sentence while Arthur would fight his hardest to get him it.
Merlin still refused to budge that he was guilty, but Arthur just had to accept that.
Not once, in bed or over had Arthur ever thought 'oh shit, Merlin's murdered someone'. There was no moment where blind panic overtook him or he thought differently towards Merlin. Whether that was because there was something Arthur knew subconsciously or because Merlin was so blasé about his guilt that it was just a part of him, Arthur didn't know. He wanted it to be the former because… well, then at least it meant that Merlin wouldn't get such a hard sentence.
The court date loomed and, the weekend before the date was due, Merlin spent the whole Saturday in Arthur's bed, tucked up in the duvet and swamped by pillows, flicking kernels of popcorn at Arthur as they watched cheesy films.
They'd organised for Arthur to come over early on Monday, to sort through everything they were going to say, but for that Saturday and part of Sunday, it was just Merlin and Arthur in their little bubble, happy and away from the outside world.
The call came at 3am and Arthur ignored his phone the first and second times, rolling over in bed and running a hand blearily over his face as an annoying trill sounded across his bedroom. For a moment he wondered where he was, where Merlin was, before he remembered Hunith had wanted Merlin with her the night before the trial started.
The phone rang again and Arthur picked it up this time, sitting up in bed sharply as the person on the other end spoke.
"I'm sorry," Freya said sadly. "Would you… I mean can you…"
She asked him to meet her in the local hospital. She didn't say what had happened, but the fact that she was calling him rather than anyone else didn't exactly signal good news.
As he drove down nearly-empty roads, Arthur tried to keep his mind from assuming the worst. She was okay at least, maybe she just had a fright with the baby and didn't want to worry Merlin before the case? Who else was there to call after all - Will was the only other one Freya said she would burden with something like this and the probability that he was either stoned off his face or running in a troubled crowd at 3am was almost certain.
That was it; she was okay, everything was fine but she just couldn't depend on the others right now.
His heart sank when he looked up the name of the ward and found 'labour ward' written underneath. With a heavy heart, Arthur asked for Freya's room number at the desk on the ward and the clerk gave him a sad look, motioning down the corridor to one of the rooms, a little further than the others.
Arthur knocked, steeling himself. He heard someone call for him to enter and then there she was, sitting up in a large bed, pillows and blankets tucked around her. There was no crib in the room, no baby basket and the resuscitation unit lay switched off, pushed against the back of the wall and devoid of towels or blankets.
"I shouldn't have called," Freya said, looking at Arthur with a sad smile. "But everyone else…"
She sighed heavily, pushing back the bed linen until Arthur could see more of the hospital gown she wore. Even though his worst fears had been expecting it, he had to look away when the familiar bump of Freya's stomach was revealed to be gone, diminished.
"Wh…" Arthur swallowed. "What happened?"
He sat down on the only chair in the room, close enough to take Freya's hand if he needed to (and whether that was because Freya would need the comfort or he would, Arthur didn't know yet).
"You're supposed to measure how many times your baby moves in a day," she said, "Sometimes you don't feel movements so often, sometimes you just want them to stop." She looked down at the blanket, catching the edge of one in her hands and playing with the material.
"I came in because I hadn't felt movement for about half a day." Arthur closed his eyes, looking down to his lap. "The midwives, and then the doctors, couldn't find a heartbeat. I went for a scan and… nothing."
Freya gave a sad sigh. "I still had to give birth," she said and, Arthur thought, wasn't that just too cruel? To go through all that pain and hardship knowing that your baby's already dead? "He was a little boy," she added, smiling even though she had to blink back tears.
"I just wanted someone to be here," she said a moment later, voice thick with sorrow. "You're the only one who would see this for what it is."
Arthur placed a hand on hers gently.
"I just wanted to say thank you." She sniffed, closing her eyes tightly. "I've thought a lot since I got here. The drugs took more than a day to work, you know, so… yeah. Done a lot of thinking."
She'd suffered alone for over a day? Why hadn't she called them sooner? He said as much and Freya shook her head, pressing her lips together.
"What good would it have done?" She looked at Arthur, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Merlin would have just sat there thinking about what he's doing, what he's done, and Will wouldn't be able to cope. Who else do I have? My family are all dead, so that leaves you."
Freya clutched Arthur's hand and he realised that, despite hardly knowing each other, they were already friends, already people who cared about each other.
"Also…" she trailed off.
"Whatever it is, I'm happy to do it or help or… do whatever," Arthur said quickly. Freya looked at him again with wide eyes.
"Could I stay at yours? I don't think I could go home right now." She looked away again, still clutching Arthur's hand.
"Of course," he said, nodding violently. "Of course, stay for as long as you want."
Freya smiled sadly. "They said I can go home whenever. I just wanted to wait for someone."
The journey back to Arthur's was made in silence. They got in and Freya asked for an old shirt of Arthur's to sleep in, to which he obliged.
Nothing else was said, aside from a whispered apology just before Freya slipped into the guest room, pale as a ghost.
.
Arthur selected one of his finest suits, quietly dressing and slipping out of the front door. He'd left a note for Freya on the counter, saying she could help herself to anything and even letting her have the spare key in case she decided to go out. While he wanted to see how she was coping, he'd peeked in on her and she'd still been sleeping by the time he needed to go, so a letter was all the comfort he could offer.
The drive to Merlin's house was filled with worry, and not just for Freya. The case would be all their undoing if they weren't careful and he didn't know if he could stand to watch Merlin be sentenced harshly.
Despite all the 'rules' and 'regulations', Arthur had fallen for Merlin. Hard. He was complex, so caring and out of sorts to the man the case file wanted him to be that Arthur just didn't understand. One person couldn't be two people as the file made him out to be… but there was no other explanation. Merlin hadn't revealed anything spectacular that could call out a lie and so Arthur had to assume there wasn't one.
Merlin flung the door open, wrapping his arms around Arthur before he'd even had a chance to knock. The smile he offered after was blinding, but he didn't fully remove himself from the hug when he talked.
"Sorry, I'm just… nervous. I haven't been able to think about much else, but I know that whatever happens, it'll be okay." He was rambling so Arthur pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling.
"Everything will be okay," he said, though there wasn't enough confidence in the words for both of them.
Arthur had left a few hours early to run through the bare minimum with Merlin and they adjourned to the parlour room, running through what Merlin was to say and how they'd go about winning the case.
The phone rang a few times, Hunith answering it in the next room, but even that didn't shatter their small bubble, Merlin running through his lines, pacing, as Arthur sat in one of the larger chairs, papers spread around him.
What did shatter their run through was a clatter, then the pale face of Hunith as she came to the parlour door, eyes wide. Merlin stopped as soon as he met his mother's face, looking to Arthur once before moving over to her.
"Mum? What's wrong?" he asked as Arthur rustled papers out the way, standing up and hovering, unsure what to do.
"The court just called. Your case has been postponed while the police investigate a new suspect." Hunith was looking to Arthur, confusion clear on her face. Arthur, on the other hand, was looking at Merlin, looking at the way his eyes had widened and the look of horror on his face.
"Merlin?" he asked softly, and Hunith turned her attention to her son, frowning as she too noticed his state.
She began to speak to him, but Arthur's phone rang and he turned his back on them, suspecting that it would be someone calling to update him on the case, and why they had postponed the case.
"Arthur Pendragon," he muttered into the receiver, glancing over his shoulder as Hunith and Merlin began to speak in low voices.
"Mr Pendragon, I'm a police officer from Albion Met. We'd like for you to come in." Arthur told the officer he'd be there shortly and rung off.
"I'm going down to the police station," he said to Hunith and Merlin, interrupting what looked to be like an argument.
"Then I'm coming with you," Merlin said, stepping forwards. At any other time, Arthur would have liked the show of loyalty, but Merlin would only hold him back if he came along.
"No, you're going to stay here and get changed. You can still run through everything I've prepared if you want to, but until we know something about this new suspect, I want you to stay here and don't do anything stupid." He looked to Hunith, "I'll be back later, as soon as I know."
He left then, ignoring Merlin's protests and Hunith's gaze. He got in his car and drove down to the station, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The apprehension didn't leave until the officers let him meet the suspect, and Arthur's heart sank as he saw the familiar figure sitting in the chair.
"Freya," he whispered, shaking his head. "What are you doing?"
So she told him.
.
Arthur wanted to go home. He wanted to pack up and just forget everything about the case. He wanted to go and drown in alcohol and then sleep for a week, and the only thing stopping him from doing those things was the fact that he'd promised Merlin he'd go back.
Matthew let him into the house with a curt nod of the head, directing him to the parlour room. It was similar to how Arthur had left it, hours ago now, papers scattered around. A lamp lay smashed on the floor and he wondered who'd thrown it.
Merlin himself was sitting on Arthur's usual chair, feet tucked under him and knees by his chin. He watched Arthur cross the room, tracking his movement, maintaining his curled position. It was like he knew, Arthur thought, before realising that much was probably true.
It was why Freya hadn't wanted to talk to anyone she'd known for more than a few weeks. It was why she'd called Arthur and not Merlin or Will, because if she'd called one of them… It was the real reason why Merlin had pledged his guilt time and time again, the reason he'd argued with her before.
But before there had been a point behind it all, a baby at the end. Now? Now she had nothing.
"Go on then," Arthur said, clenching his jaw as he took a seat opposite Merlin. "The truth from your own mouth."
Merlin didn't even argue.
.
It had taken Merlin weeks to get Freya to agree to come out. Merlin remembered the night the police had phoned his house, asking for him to come and collect Freya, with terror. He never wanted to feel like that again, never.
She'd been raped, coming home from work. It had been early evening when the assault happened and Freya hadn't spoken of it to anyone but the police, shaking away questions with tear-stained cheeks whenever Merlin or Will had asked.
But they'd managed it, managed to get her out to celebrate Will's birthday and into their favourite pub. The group all knew each other and Freya had been having a good time, laughing at the jokes and even going so far to thank Merlin halfway through the evening.
It had all fallen apart though as soon as he'd show up. Mordred had walked up to the bar, half-turned to their table and raised one eyebrow to Freya. Only Merlin had noticed the look as the rest of the group were trying to calm down a man Will had sloshed drinks over, clamouring to pay the guy off before anything got ugly.
"Freya?" Merlin whispered furiously as Mordred turned towards the barkeep, sipping his drink. "Did he..?"
Freya looked away quickly, pressing a hand to her cheek and sniffing. That was all the confirmation needed, though she placed a hand on his wrist with a hurried shake of her head.
"Just leave it Merlin. The police know, they've been tracking him." She turned back to her drink, chewing her lip and forcing a laugh to the latest joke.
("Remember the rumours I told you about?" Merlin whispered, tucking his chin down even further. Arthur nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Mordred's a murderer. He's killed tonnes of people, but no one cares because he works for Alvarr. Alvarr practically owns the criminal world and pays anyone who even considers thinking about turning against him off, or kills them." Merlin's voice was bitter and he looked away from Arthur.)
Five minutes after, Freya said she needed some air and slipped out of the bar, under Merlin's watchful gaze. He didn't touch his drink, but watched Mordred from the corner of his eye, steeling himself to make a move when Mordred did.
Will asked where Freya had gone then, drawing Merlin's attention for a minute, and when he looked back to look for Mordred, he was gone, glass empty at the bar.
"Shit," Merlin whispered and made quick excuses, saying he fancied some air. There were a couple of people outside, and they nodded when he asked whether Mordred had come out recently.
He ran across the square to the only half-lit alleyway. If they were anywhere, it would be down this alley, and how Merlin hoped he would be wrong.
"Emrys," Mordred greeted smoothly when Merlin entered the alley. Freya stood there, shaking as she held a gun, pointed to Mordred's chest. "I gave her my gun, said she should try killing me if she hated it so much."
Merlin snarled, "Fuck off Mordred. What you did to her was disgusting and I bet she wasn't the first woman's life you've destroyed."
Mordred laughed, throwing his arms into the air as if it was some kind of joke.
"Destroyed?" Mordred mocked, "Hardly. I gave her the gun to kill me and she can't even do it. She loved it, just look at her!" He laughed and Merlin moved forwards, preparing to wrench the gun from Freya and shoot the bastard himself when-
A gunshot sounded and then Freya sank on the ground, whole body shaking. Mordred's laugh cut off sharply as he stumbled back, a bullet in his head and blood trickling down the side of his face. He fell back with a thump as Merlin rushed to Freya's side, wrenching the gun from her hand as she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.
.
Arthur closed his eyes. Freya had told him the story already, from her perspective at the station, but hearing it from Merlin was different somehow. Finally everything clicked, it made sense and the puzzle Arthur had been struggling with for weeks had finally revealed itself.
Merlin was innocent.
"Freya's told the police everything. She even told me how you paid off the officers who wrote the report to keep out that Mordred had raped her so that she wouldn't be linked to the case." Merlin shook his head, eyes staring off into the room.
"I did it because she has the baby and she has a future. What did I have? Nothing. It was just me and mum here and I was more of a disappointment to her than anything. I never did anything, except go and hang around with Will when I was bored of doing nothing." Merlin pressed his forehead to his knees. "I thought we'd be fine as well. She wanted to tell the truth, but I couldn't let her do that to the baby. No one cared that it was Mordred's too, because it was Freya's. I made her lie to save her, her and the baby."
Merlin let out a sob, burrowing deeper in on himself. "What life is she going to have now? What life are either of them going to have?"
Arthur looked away, hating that he had to be the one to share the news.
"Merlin, Freya called me early this morning." Merlin tilted his head, eyes wet. "She went to the hospital a few days ago… the baby was stillborn. She called me because I was the only one who didn't know she became pregnant when Mordred raped her, the only one who wouldn't treat it as more than the tragedy of losing a child." The words were said carefully, gently.
Freya had explained it all to him; she'd loved her baby even after what Mordred did to her, but everyone who knew of the rape would just see them linked. She hadn't wanted that, instead she'd wanted a moment to remember her son with someone who had no idea of the true nature of his conception, someone to share her sorrow with.
Merlin stilled, his body crumpling.
"She turned herself in because she said you were destroying yourself, but now you'd found something." Someone, actually, was what she had said, but Arthur couldn't assume Merlin would want him after this.
"She spent a lot of time the past few days thinking about her choices and… she made hers." Merlin began to shake his head, denial spreading, so Arthur pressed on. "It changes things. The case will change and Freya's unlikely to be charged harshly. She was acting in self-defence, provoked by a man who had already attacked her once. The police reports you tried to hide I paid to be reopened and her assault's been added to the case, as well as the fact she just lost her baby."
Merlin looked away, burrowing in on himself again. He looked so small, so frail, and all Arthur wanted to do was wrap his arms around him, pull him close.
"I'm not allowed to represent her, but I asked my colleague to take the case. Gwen's one of the best and she knows her way against Morgana well." Arthur paused. "And I know Morgana's not going to be hounding the case anymore, not when the real events have come to light."
He waited, watching Merlin in his chair. His eyes were closed and he was tucked up.
"You waiting for an invitation?" Merlin muttered, glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye.
Arthur moved forwards then, kneeling on the floor and wrapping his arms around Merlin. Instantly arms latched around him, Merlin's nose pressing against his neck as he controlled his sobs.
"Why her? Why has all this happened to her?" he whispered, the words ghosting against Arthur's neck. He tightened his hold, clutching Arthur to him as if he was afraid he too would be lost.
"She loves you, that's why," Arthur said, resting against Merlin as he held him.
"She… she knows about you." Merlin sniffed, pulling back with pink eyes. "Obviously about you, but that I…"
He closed his eyes, "That I think I might be in danger of falling in love with you."
No matter what would happen in the future, that it would be a tough few days (weeks even) before Freya could come back to them fully, there was no point in looking beyond the end of the day.
"Yeah?" Arthur said instead, knowing that any effort to reassure Merlin that Freya would be free and happy again would be a lie (and Merlin, the real Merlin under the hidden guise of guilt, hated lying). "I think I might be in that danger myself."
And then Merlin kissed him softly, without embellishment or promises, but with honesty and love, two emotions Arthur felt he had almost forgotten.
.
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three |
Word Count: ~16,000
Notes: Hopefully I did the prompt justice. It was written for the meme's Spring Fever and reposted here just to I can keep my masterlist nice and tidy.
Warnings: Mentions of intoxication (drugs&alcohol), mentions of murder (plus descriptions), mentions of character death, violence, brief mention of prostitution, brief mention of rape, a thoroughly warped/corrupt justice/legal system, stillbirth. I also know nothing about law, so everything's just a fantasy in my mind.
The Only People Who Have Clients
(are prostitutes and lawyers)
Part Three
.
For some strange reason, Merlin kept coming back. Every other night (or third night, depending), Merlin would be waiting at Arthur's door with a book in his lap and a bored expression on his face. They always went inside (and yeah, it might have been a bit awkward the first time, but Arthur was a man and he'd gotten over it pretty quickly), had a drink - which had then extended to Arthur cooking dinner, or Merlin bringing over home cooked meals to be heated up - and then retired to the lounge to chat.
The boarders of a professional-client relationship blurred and Arthur came to know Merlin as two people. There was the one Merlin, the one who was adamant he was guilty of murder, and then there was the other Merlin, his friend who liked to watch cartoons on Saturday mornings and talking to Arthur.
Tonight was different. Instead of sitting outside the door, Merlin was absent. It had been two days now that Merlin hadn't showed and Arthur had been expecting him all day. It was like a (small) punch to the gut to see his welcome mat devoid of any Merlin, but the time had to come soon. Merlin had better things to do than hang around his lawyer.
He unlocked the door, walking in and heading for the kitchen. He dropped his briefcase as he realised that, no, Merlin hadn't been outside… but inside.
"What the…" Arthur began as Merlin stepped out from the kitchen counter with a smile.
"Hi honey, how was your day? Hard work at the office? The kids are asleep and dinner will be ready in half an hour." Merlin winked after his high-pitched spiel before wandering back to tend to the pans on the stove.
"How did you get in?" Arthur asked incredulously. Merlin looked back at him with a bored stare.
"Almost all my friends are pretty criminals. Picking a lock is easy when you know the tricks of the trade." Merlin shrugged and Arthur decided this was another thing he didn't want to know about. "Besides, I thought I'd actually cook something. Not let my mother pass leftovers on me, which I then pass onto you and we have to reheat."
Merlin wrinkled his nose. "Reheated food doesn't ever quite taste the same," he lamented, pointing a wooden spoon covered in red sauce at Arthur. "Now, you go change and I'll carry on here, okay?"
Still slightly stunned by seeing Merlin in his kitchen (and was that a 'kiss the chef' apron?), Arthur wandered into his room to change, slipping into jeans and a t-shirt before heading back to where Merlin was dishing up some kind of sausage casserole dish.
As it turned out, Merlin had inherited his cooking skills from Hunith and the meal was delicious. He felt even more satisfied by the smallest blush appeared on Merlin's cheeks after his praise, aided by the wine they'd been drinking.
"So," Merlin said after dinner, sprawled across one of Arthur's sofas. His feet rested against Arthur's thigh, toes wriggling under socks. "I kissed you the other night."
He said it so casually, as if commenting that it was raining or that a bird had just landed in a tree. No one was ever this blunt to Arthur, shrouding whatever it was that needed to be said in layers of hints or gestures.
Everyone but Merlin of course.
"Yeah," he responded pathetically, glancing down as Merlin's toes curled against his leg.
"And I broke into your house today," Merlin continued and Arthur could feel his stare on his skin. He looked back, nodding slowly. "You didn't throw me out."
He sprung up from where he had been laying, turning over so that his head was closest to Arthur now, on all fours balanced on the sofa.
"If I didn't know any better," he muttered and it was all Arthur could do not to grab him there and then, "I'd say you had a soft spot for me."
It was as much a challenge as he'd ever get and Arthur launched into it head-first, reaching for Merlin's collar and pulling him closer. As soon as possible, he pressed his lips to Merlin's, kissing him properly rather than the pathetic cheek-kiss Merlin had offered.
Arthur mentioned this point between kisses and Merlin laughed, throwing his head back for a moment and offering his neck up for Arthur. Hands moved around Arthur's shoulders to clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt as he mouthed upwards, seeking Merlin's lips slowly, tauntingly.
Swinging a leg over Arthur's thighs, Merlin was suddenly on his lap, pressing against him. Arthur felt the smirk in their kiss before Merlin pushed their hips together, moving his lips to whisper into Arthur's ear.
"You know, I thought you were a bit of a prat when we first met, but I still fancied the pants off you." He pulled back with a grin, feigning ignorance as to why Arthur didn't offer a reply, instead focusing on his breathing, determined not to let Merlin win the game between them.
Merlin scooted off then, grabbing Arthur by the hand and leading him to his room.
"How did you-"
Merlin grinned. "I had over an hour of wandering around here before you got home," he pressed Arthur against the wall, next to the door of his bedroom. This time Arthur couldn't stifle the groan that escaped his throat as Merlin rubbed against him.
"So I decided to explore a bit." And then Merlin was gone, pushing the door open and walking back until he hit the end of the bed.
In the doorway, Arthur probably looked as lost as he felt and all it took from Merlin was a tilt of the chin before he joined, him, seizing the moment and pushing him back on the bed. He grazed his teeth over the pulse point in Merlin's neck, pressing feathered kisses where his teeth scraped skin as Merlin worked to remove his top, scrabbling a little awkwardly.
They ended up pressed close together, Merlin over Arthur. Their kisses were languid, sloppy and full of thousands of words they hadn't said yet.
"I'm scared," Merlin whispered, resting his forehead on Arthur's shoulder for a moment and Arthur knew he wasn't scared because of anything between them.
"I know," Arthur replied, pulling him down for a kiss. "But we'll be okay, yeah? You and me."
Merlin's answering smile was blinding as he moved forwards, trailing down with a grin.
.
Arthur woke with a grinning Merlin looking at him. In the night they'd migrated over so that they were sharing the same pillow, squished together comfortably. He sat up, stretching his arms as Merlin rolled over, wriggling with his arms spread over Arthur's bed.
"What are you doing?" Arthur asked after watching Merlin wriggle around, burrowing his head between the pillows. Merlin paused, blinking owlishly up at Arthur.
"Making a Merlin-imprint in your bed so that you know I was the best you've ever had and that, even when we're sadly apart, I'm still here." He flashed a grin. "And you have a very springy mattress."
If anyone else had said that, Arthur would have thought them a bit creepy (okay, very creepy), but this was Merlin and, for some bizarre reason, it worked for him.
"I'm going to use your toothbrush, unless you tell me there's a spare." Merlin climbed off the bed, naked, and walked over to the ensuite. Arthur followed his progress hungrily, ignoring the question completely until Merlin poked his head back out, a familiar brush stuck in his mouth.
"Merlin that's disgusting," he said, shaking his head. Merlin shrugged, babbling about something that Arthur couldn't understand before he vanished again, turning the tap on.
"What I said," he repeated when he was done, wiping toothpaste from the corner of his mouth, "Was that I did ask, but you were too busy watching me walk around with no clothes on." He shook his head, tutting mockingly. "Terrible, just terrible."
Rolling his eyes, but with a smile, Arthur flopped back on the bed. Merlin climbed back in, fitting to his side as soon as he was under the covers, his limbs dangling over Arthur's chest. The position should have been awkward, but it was comfortable, nice even.
(How long was it since Arthur had last woken up beside someone? And by someone, he meant someone who actually meant something.)
"About what I said last night," Merlin said quietly, against Arthur's chest. "I meant it."
Arthur pulled him closer, kissing his head and running a hand over Merlin's spine.
"It's be okay," he said, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "We'll sort it out."
He didn't promise though. He couldn't.
.
They'd planned it, over dinner, before and after sex, when Arthur was showering and Merlin peering in the mirror, when Merlin was showering and Arthur pretending he wasn't looking in the mirror at him, and then in their shared shower. Merlin was willing to try, to try and get a reduced sentence while Arthur would fight his hardest to get him it.
Merlin still refused to budge that he was guilty, but Arthur just had to accept that.
Not once, in bed or over had Arthur ever thought 'oh shit, Merlin's murdered someone'. There was no moment where blind panic overtook him or he thought differently towards Merlin. Whether that was because there was something Arthur knew subconsciously or because Merlin was so blasé about his guilt that it was just a part of him, Arthur didn't know. He wanted it to be the former because… well, then at least it meant that Merlin wouldn't get such a hard sentence.
The court date loomed and, the weekend before the date was due, Merlin spent the whole Saturday in Arthur's bed, tucked up in the duvet and swamped by pillows, flicking kernels of popcorn at Arthur as they watched cheesy films.
They'd organised for Arthur to come over early on Monday, to sort through everything they were going to say, but for that Saturday and part of Sunday, it was just Merlin and Arthur in their little bubble, happy and away from the outside world.
The call came at 3am and Arthur ignored his phone the first and second times, rolling over in bed and running a hand blearily over his face as an annoying trill sounded across his bedroom. For a moment he wondered where he was, where Merlin was, before he remembered Hunith had wanted Merlin with her the night before the trial started.
The phone rang again and Arthur picked it up this time, sitting up in bed sharply as the person on the other end spoke.
"I'm sorry," Freya said sadly. "Would you… I mean can you…"
She asked him to meet her in the local hospital. She didn't say what had happened, but the fact that she was calling him rather than anyone else didn't exactly signal good news.
As he drove down nearly-empty roads, Arthur tried to keep his mind from assuming the worst. She was okay at least, maybe she just had a fright with the baby and didn't want to worry Merlin before the case? Who else was there to call after all - Will was the only other one Freya said she would burden with something like this and the probability that he was either stoned off his face or running in a troubled crowd at 3am was almost certain.
That was it; she was okay, everything was fine but she just couldn't depend on the others right now.
His heart sank when he looked up the name of the ward and found 'labour ward' written underneath. With a heavy heart, Arthur asked for Freya's room number at the desk on the ward and the clerk gave him a sad look, motioning down the corridor to one of the rooms, a little further than the others.
Arthur knocked, steeling himself. He heard someone call for him to enter and then there she was, sitting up in a large bed, pillows and blankets tucked around her. There was no crib in the room, no baby basket and the resuscitation unit lay switched off, pushed against the back of the wall and devoid of towels or blankets.
"I shouldn't have called," Freya said, looking at Arthur with a sad smile. "But everyone else…"
She sighed heavily, pushing back the bed linen until Arthur could see more of the hospital gown she wore. Even though his worst fears had been expecting it, he had to look away when the familiar bump of Freya's stomach was revealed to be gone, diminished.
"Wh…" Arthur swallowed. "What happened?"
He sat down on the only chair in the room, close enough to take Freya's hand if he needed to (and whether that was because Freya would need the comfort or he would, Arthur didn't know yet).
"You're supposed to measure how many times your baby moves in a day," she said, "Sometimes you don't feel movements so often, sometimes you just want them to stop." She looked down at the blanket, catching the edge of one in her hands and playing with the material.
"I came in because I hadn't felt movement for about half a day." Arthur closed his eyes, looking down to his lap. "The midwives, and then the doctors, couldn't find a heartbeat. I went for a scan and… nothing."
Freya gave a sad sigh. "I still had to give birth," she said and, Arthur thought, wasn't that just too cruel? To go through all that pain and hardship knowing that your baby's already dead? "He was a little boy," she added, smiling even though she had to blink back tears.
"I just wanted someone to be here," she said a moment later, voice thick with sorrow. "You're the only one who would see this for what it is."
Arthur placed a hand on hers gently.
"I just wanted to say thank you." She sniffed, closing her eyes tightly. "I've thought a lot since I got here. The drugs took more than a day to work, you know, so… yeah. Done a lot of thinking."
She'd suffered alone for over a day? Why hadn't she called them sooner? He said as much and Freya shook her head, pressing her lips together.
"What good would it have done?" She looked at Arthur, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Merlin would have just sat there thinking about what he's doing, what he's done, and Will wouldn't be able to cope. Who else do I have? My family are all dead, so that leaves you."
Freya clutched Arthur's hand and he realised that, despite hardly knowing each other, they were already friends, already people who cared about each other.
"Also…" she trailed off.
"Whatever it is, I'm happy to do it or help or… do whatever," Arthur said quickly. Freya looked at him again with wide eyes.
"Could I stay at yours? I don't think I could go home right now." She looked away again, still clutching Arthur's hand.
"Of course," he said, nodding violently. "Of course, stay for as long as you want."
Freya smiled sadly. "They said I can go home whenever. I just wanted to wait for someone."
The journey back to Arthur's was made in silence. They got in and Freya asked for an old shirt of Arthur's to sleep in, to which he obliged.
Nothing else was said, aside from a whispered apology just before Freya slipped into the guest room, pale as a ghost.
.
Arthur selected one of his finest suits, quietly dressing and slipping out of the front door. He'd left a note for Freya on the counter, saying she could help herself to anything and even letting her have the spare key in case she decided to go out. While he wanted to see how she was coping, he'd peeked in on her and she'd still been sleeping by the time he needed to go, so a letter was all the comfort he could offer.
The drive to Merlin's house was filled with worry, and not just for Freya. The case would be all their undoing if they weren't careful and he didn't know if he could stand to watch Merlin be sentenced harshly.
Despite all the 'rules' and 'regulations', Arthur had fallen for Merlin. Hard. He was complex, so caring and out of sorts to the man the case file wanted him to be that Arthur just didn't understand. One person couldn't be two people as the file made him out to be… but there was no other explanation. Merlin hadn't revealed anything spectacular that could call out a lie and so Arthur had to assume there wasn't one.
Merlin flung the door open, wrapping his arms around Arthur before he'd even had a chance to knock. The smile he offered after was blinding, but he didn't fully remove himself from the hug when he talked.
"Sorry, I'm just… nervous. I haven't been able to think about much else, but I know that whatever happens, it'll be okay." He was rambling so Arthur pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling.
"Everything will be okay," he said, though there wasn't enough confidence in the words for both of them.
Arthur had left a few hours early to run through the bare minimum with Merlin and they adjourned to the parlour room, running through what Merlin was to say and how they'd go about winning the case.
The phone rang a few times, Hunith answering it in the next room, but even that didn't shatter their small bubble, Merlin running through his lines, pacing, as Arthur sat in one of the larger chairs, papers spread around him.
What did shatter their run through was a clatter, then the pale face of Hunith as she came to the parlour door, eyes wide. Merlin stopped as soon as he met his mother's face, looking to Arthur once before moving over to her.
"Mum? What's wrong?" he asked as Arthur rustled papers out the way, standing up and hovering, unsure what to do.
"The court just called. Your case has been postponed while the police investigate a new suspect." Hunith was looking to Arthur, confusion clear on her face. Arthur, on the other hand, was looking at Merlin, looking at the way his eyes had widened and the look of horror on his face.
"Merlin?" he asked softly, and Hunith turned her attention to her son, frowning as she too noticed his state.
She began to speak to him, but Arthur's phone rang and he turned his back on them, suspecting that it would be someone calling to update him on the case, and why they had postponed the case.
"Arthur Pendragon," he muttered into the receiver, glancing over his shoulder as Hunith and Merlin began to speak in low voices.
"Mr Pendragon, I'm a police officer from Albion Met. We'd like for you to come in." Arthur told the officer he'd be there shortly and rung off.
"I'm going down to the police station," he said to Hunith and Merlin, interrupting what looked to be like an argument.
"Then I'm coming with you," Merlin said, stepping forwards. At any other time, Arthur would have liked the show of loyalty, but Merlin would only hold him back if he came along.
"No, you're going to stay here and get changed. You can still run through everything I've prepared if you want to, but until we know something about this new suspect, I want you to stay here and don't do anything stupid." He looked to Hunith, "I'll be back later, as soon as I know."
He left then, ignoring Merlin's protests and Hunith's gaze. He got in his car and drove down to the station, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. The apprehension didn't leave until the officers let him meet the suspect, and Arthur's heart sank as he saw the familiar figure sitting in the chair.
"Freya," he whispered, shaking his head. "What are you doing?"
So she told him.
.
Arthur wanted to go home. He wanted to pack up and just forget everything about the case. He wanted to go and drown in alcohol and then sleep for a week, and the only thing stopping him from doing those things was the fact that he'd promised Merlin he'd go back.
Matthew let him into the house with a curt nod of the head, directing him to the parlour room. It was similar to how Arthur had left it, hours ago now, papers scattered around. A lamp lay smashed on the floor and he wondered who'd thrown it.
Merlin himself was sitting on Arthur's usual chair, feet tucked under him and knees by his chin. He watched Arthur cross the room, tracking his movement, maintaining his curled position. It was like he knew, Arthur thought, before realising that much was probably true.
It was why Freya hadn't wanted to talk to anyone she'd known for more than a few weeks. It was why she'd called Arthur and not Merlin or Will, because if she'd called one of them… It was the real reason why Merlin had pledged his guilt time and time again, the reason he'd argued with her before.
But before there had been a point behind it all, a baby at the end. Now? Now she had nothing.
"Go on then," Arthur said, clenching his jaw as he took a seat opposite Merlin. "The truth from your own mouth."
Merlin didn't even argue.
.
It had taken Merlin weeks to get Freya to agree to come out. Merlin remembered the night the police had phoned his house, asking for him to come and collect Freya, with terror. He never wanted to feel like that again, never.
She'd been raped, coming home from work. It had been early evening when the assault happened and Freya hadn't spoken of it to anyone but the police, shaking away questions with tear-stained cheeks whenever Merlin or Will had asked.
But they'd managed it, managed to get her out to celebrate Will's birthday and into their favourite pub. The group all knew each other and Freya had been having a good time, laughing at the jokes and even going so far to thank Merlin halfway through the evening.
It had all fallen apart though as soon as he'd show up. Mordred had walked up to the bar, half-turned to their table and raised one eyebrow to Freya. Only Merlin had noticed the look as the rest of the group were trying to calm down a man Will had sloshed drinks over, clamouring to pay the guy off before anything got ugly.
"Freya?" Merlin whispered furiously as Mordred turned towards the barkeep, sipping his drink. "Did he..?"
Freya looked away quickly, pressing a hand to her cheek and sniffing. That was all the confirmation needed, though she placed a hand on his wrist with a hurried shake of her head.
"Just leave it Merlin. The police know, they've been tracking him." She turned back to her drink, chewing her lip and forcing a laugh to the latest joke.
("Remember the rumours I told you about?" Merlin whispered, tucking his chin down even further. Arthur nodded, waiting for him to continue.
"Mordred's a murderer. He's killed tonnes of people, but no one cares because he works for Alvarr. Alvarr practically owns the criminal world and pays anyone who even considers thinking about turning against him off, or kills them." Merlin's voice was bitter and he looked away from Arthur.)
Five minutes after, Freya said she needed some air and slipped out of the bar, under Merlin's watchful gaze. He didn't touch his drink, but watched Mordred from the corner of his eye, steeling himself to make a move when Mordred did.
Will asked where Freya had gone then, drawing Merlin's attention for a minute, and when he looked back to look for Mordred, he was gone, glass empty at the bar.
"Shit," Merlin whispered and made quick excuses, saying he fancied some air. There were a couple of people outside, and they nodded when he asked whether Mordred had come out recently.
He ran across the square to the only half-lit alleyway. If they were anywhere, it would be down this alley, and how Merlin hoped he would be wrong.
"Emrys," Mordred greeted smoothly when Merlin entered the alley. Freya stood there, shaking as she held a gun, pointed to Mordred's chest. "I gave her my gun, said she should try killing me if she hated it so much."
Merlin snarled, "Fuck off Mordred. What you did to her was disgusting and I bet she wasn't the first woman's life you've destroyed."
Mordred laughed, throwing his arms into the air as if it was some kind of joke.
"Destroyed?" Mordred mocked, "Hardly. I gave her the gun to kill me and she can't even do it. She loved it, just look at her!" He laughed and Merlin moved forwards, preparing to wrench the gun from Freya and shoot the bastard himself when-
A gunshot sounded and then Freya sank on the ground, whole body shaking. Mordred's laugh cut off sharply as he stumbled back, a bullet in his head and blood trickling down the side of his face. He fell back with a thump as Merlin rushed to Freya's side, wrenching the gun from her hand as she wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest.
.
Arthur closed his eyes. Freya had told him the story already, from her perspective at the station, but hearing it from Merlin was different somehow. Finally everything clicked, it made sense and the puzzle Arthur had been struggling with for weeks had finally revealed itself.
Merlin was innocent.
"Freya's told the police everything. She even told me how you paid off the officers who wrote the report to keep out that Mordred had raped her so that she wouldn't be linked to the case." Merlin shook his head, eyes staring off into the room.
"I did it because she has the baby and she has a future. What did I have? Nothing. It was just me and mum here and I was more of a disappointment to her than anything. I never did anything, except go and hang around with Will when I was bored of doing nothing." Merlin pressed his forehead to his knees. "I thought we'd be fine as well. She wanted to tell the truth, but I couldn't let her do that to the baby. No one cared that it was Mordred's too, because it was Freya's. I made her lie to save her, her and the baby."
Merlin let out a sob, burrowing deeper in on himself. "What life is she going to have now? What life are either of them going to have?"
Arthur looked away, hating that he had to be the one to share the news.
"Merlin, Freya called me early this morning." Merlin tilted his head, eyes wet. "She went to the hospital a few days ago… the baby was stillborn. She called me because I was the only one who didn't know she became pregnant when Mordred raped her, the only one who wouldn't treat it as more than the tragedy of losing a child." The words were said carefully, gently.
Freya had explained it all to him; she'd loved her baby even after what Mordred did to her, but everyone who knew of the rape would just see them linked. She hadn't wanted that, instead she'd wanted a moment to remember her son with someone who had no idea of the true nature of his conception, someone to share her sorrow with.
Merlin stilled, his body crumpling.
"She turned herself in because she said you were destroying yourself, but now you'd found something." Someone, actually, was what she had said, but Arthur couldn't assume Merlin would want him after this.
"She spent a lot of time the past few days thinking about her choices and… she made hers." Merlin began to shake his head, denial spreading, so Arthur pressed on. "It changes things. The case will change and Freya's unlikely to be charged harshly. She was acting in self-defence, provoked by a man who had already attacked her once. The police reports you tried to hide I paid to be reopened and her assault's been added to the case, as well as the fact she just lost her baby."
Merlin looked away, burrowing in on himself again. He looked so small, so frail, and all Arthur wanted to do was wrap his arms around him, pull him close.
"I'm not allowed to represent her, but I asked my colleague to take the case. Gwen's one of the best and she knows her way against Morgana well." Arthur paused. "And I know Morgana's not going to be hounding the case anymore, not when the real events have come to light."
He waited, watching Merlin in his chair. His eyes were closed and he was tucked up.
"You waiting for an invitation?" Merlin muttered, glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his eye.
Arthur moved forwards then, kneeling on the floor and wrapping his arms around Merlin. Instantly arms latched around him, Merlin's nose pressing against his neck as he controlled his sobs.
"Why her? Why has all this happened to her?" he whispered, the words ghosting against Arthur's neck. He tightened his hold, clutching Arthur to him as if he was afraid he too would be lost.
"She loves you, that's why," Arthur said, resting against Merlin as he held him.
"She… she knows about you." Merlin sniffed, pulling back with pink eyes. "Obviously about you, but that I…"
He closed his eyes, "That I think I might be in danger of falling in love with you."
No matter what would happen in the future, that it would be a tough few days (weeks even) before Freya could come back to them fully, there was no point in looking beyond the end of the day.
"Yeah?" Arthur said instead, knowing that any effort to reassure Merlin that Freya would be free and happy again would be a lie (and Merlin, the real Merlin under the hidden guise of guilt, hated lying). "I think I might be in that danger myself."
And then Merlin kissed him softly, without embellishment or promises, but with honesty and love, two emotions Arthur felt he had almost forgotten.
.
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three |