That Old Black Magic - Chapter 1
TITLE: That Old Black Magic (2/9)
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
WORDS: This part 3000
RATING: PG-13 (at the moment)
GENRE: Modern AU, romance, drama
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
SUMMARY: Morgana has always protected her step-brother from magical threats through the strength of her visions, but when her powers begins to fail, it's up to somebody else to save the day. Enter Arthur's new bumbling assistant, Merlin.
Beta'd by sparkysluvchild :)
Awesome coverart by glaringcandle
Prologue
A/N As my laptop has died a painful death, I've lost A LOT of writing, including a lot of mostly finished fics. This is one of the only chapters of anything I had saved on my email, so I managed to retrieve it. :)
***
That Old Black Magic
Chapter 1 - Suspicious Minds
“So, how are you?” Merlin asks the next morning, stumbling into Arthur’s office and giving him a nervous smile. He’s clutching all Arthur’s important documents in messy hands, the papers unorganised and haphazard in his grasp. Taking into account that the idiot saved his life the night before, however, Arthur deems it polite not to say anything.
“I’m fine,” he says instead, straightening his tie and waving his assistant forward. “Thanks to you.”
Merlin flushes, a florescent scarlet colour, all the way from his neck to the tips of his overlarge ears. “Oh, it was nothing,” he smiles, dumping Arthur’s files onto the edge of his desk without finesse, wringing his hands. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
Arthur nods and can’t help but smile back at him, deliberately ignoring the gross mistreatment of his documents. He’s had to turn a blind eye to a lot of things since Merlin’s started working for him, and now - through sheer force of habit - he finds it surprisingly easy to do so. He fears it’s down to personal growth.
“Is your face okay?” Merlin asks after a moment, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
Arthur blinks and realises that he’s been staring, so tears his gaze away to ghost a hand across his own bruised cheek. “Yeah, it’s fine. Who knew such a skinny woman could pack such a punch?” he jokes, attempting to make light of it. It’s the tried and tested Pendragon way: speak bullshit with such conviction that everyone else can’t help but nod and agree, no matter what tripe you come out with.
But despite Arthur’s words, Merlin does not smile. “A punch?” he repeats, sounding faintly disbelieving. “Right.”
Arthur assesses his assistant and frowns, wondering if Merlin knew the true origin of Sophia’s power; he had been the one to confront her, after all. Did he suspect she was magical? “What really happened last night, Merlin?” he finds himself asking, ready now to have the conversation he’d been too tired for the night before.
Merlin bites his lip and avoids his gaze, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. “Like I said when you woke up,” he begins, shrugging his shoulders, “I came to find you last night, about, um, paperwork, and I found you unconscious with Sophia standing over you. So I went up behind her and hit her on the head. She collapsed. The end.”
Arthur raises an eyebrow, finding himself (for some inexplicable reason) doubting his assistant’s answer. “Sounds simple,” he remarks casually, but in his mind’s eye he can see nothing but his sister’s terrified expression from the night before. The whole thing is anything but simple.
Merlin nods, seemingly finding no way to reply.
“So…Sophia didn’t seem strange to you?” Arthur presses, cocking his head - And by ‘strange’ he meant sociopathic and magical, yielding a bright blue staff that could shoot electricity and which almost burnt half his face off.
“Strange?” Merlin mouths. “Nope.” He then pauses, seemingly to reconsider. “Well, apart from her trying to attack her boyfriend strange,” he adds.
Arthur can’t help but smile, even though the whole situation is anything but funny. “Right, well, back to work then,” he says, attempting to restore some resemblance of normality back to the proceedings; he’s pretty sure other businessman don’t have to deal with psycho ex-girlfriends attempting to murder them.
“You seem to be taking it all rather well,” Merlin notes, cocking his head and assessing his boss with disbelieving eyes.
Arthur can’t really point out that magical murderers are a regular occurrence in his life, so just shrugs instead. “So do you,” he retorts.
Merlin looks away and shuffles uncomfortably, giving his arms a flailing wave. “So, what happened to Sophia?” he asks after a pause, doing a remarkably good job of attempting to change the subject.
It’s Arthur’s turn to look away, turning back to his computer and pretending to scroll through his emails, hand clenched white on his mouse. “My father took care of her,” he replies, and leaves it at that. Because there is simply no more he can say.
Merlin nods, knowing not to press. “Right."
The room descends into awkward silence, so Arthur straightens and looks back up, schooling his expression into one of a competent businessman. “What meetings do I have today?” he asks, attempting to divert the conversation while using his most superior voice. It’s a tactic that works extremely well in important business meetings, but is something that usually has strangely little effect on his new assistant - not even when Arthur uses his fiercest glares.
This time, however, Merlin seems relieved by the change of topic. “Oh, lots,” he babbles, holding up a number of spindly fingers and flicking each of them in turn. “Stockbrokers at ten, your father at twelve, and a really rude man who calls himself ‘Valiant’ at two.”
Arthur nods, taking in a breath and pushing the Sophia situation to the back of his mind; there was just no point in dwelling on it, Morgana would do it enough for the both of them.
“Alright,” he says, giving his assistant a dismissive wave, “you may go.”
Merlin looks insultingly relieved and heads for the door, all flailing limbs and bouncy footsteps. For perhaps the hundredth time in the period of a month, Arthur wonders why on earth he hired him.
Then he remembers the night before and is just thankful that he did.
***
“Gwen?” Merlin calls, bounding into the office’s cafeteria and looking for his friend.
He immediately spots her on the other side of the hall, sorting plates and shifting through cutlery, dressed in a long apron and stark white hat. It’s not the most flattering look on anyone and, once again, Merlin wonders why his friend actually chooses to work there. As he works for Arthur, however - a man he can barely stand for more than 10 minutes at a time - he knows confronting her about it would be slightly hypocritical, so he has always kept annoyingly silent on the matter.
He loops through the cafeteria tables, splattered with people, and appears at her side, giving her a bright, wide smile. “Hi,” he says, announcing himself quietly. He’s learnt his lesson regarding jumping out from behind tables - it almost always resulted in Gwen screeching and breaking an awful lot of plates.
“Oh,” she mouths, grinning. “Hey Merlin! What are you doing here?”
“Arthur dismissed me to do some paperwork or something,” he explains, waving a casual hand. He’s not really sure what Arthur does all day, but he knows it involves lots of stuffy businessman and long tedious documents, so Merlin never feels particularly inclined to ask.
“How is he this morning?” his friend asks, putting down her spoons and looking at him curiously.
Merlin shrugs. “Okay, I guess. A bit bruised.” He crosses his arms and looks away, face crinkling confusedly.
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asks immediately, sensing his unease like the best-friend she is. “You don’t seem very happy for someone who just stopped his boss getting killed by a magical socio-bitch.” It’s amazing how casual she sounds.
“I just -” Merlin takes in a breath and scratches his head, attempting to figure out how to explain himself without sounding like a complete nutter. He knows Gwen will believe him regardless, but it makes him feel like even more of a loon when he jumps to conclusions based on nothing but a ‘feeling’. “It’s just, you know I said I had a feeling something was going to go down before Sophia attacked?”
Gwen nods.
“Well, Sophia’s gone, but the feeling’s still there,” he explains, giving his shoulders a helpless shrug. “It feels like something is still after Arthur.”
“Sophia?” Gwen suggests, crinkling her nose. “Do you think she’ll come back? ‘Cause you didn’t kill her, did you?”
Merlin shakes his head. “No. Arthur said his father dealt with Sophia - whatever that means. And I believe him.”
“Who could it be, then?”
Merlin shrugs again - powerful he may be, but he's not actually psychic. “No idea. I guess I’ve just got to be on guard,” he says with a frown. Being on guard could hardly be classed as one of his strong points - it usually requires some degree of concentration. “Plus Arthur keeps asking questions about Sophia.”
Gwen blinks, eyes wide. “Do you think he knows?”
“That she was an evil sorceress?” Merlin says doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. “He’s a businessman. I really don’t think so.”
“He’s more than just a businessman - you said so yourself,” Gwen replies, looking so sincere and earnest that Merlin feels thankful that he can confide in her. He really wouldn’t know what to do without her unwavering support. “You said that there’s something about him.”
“Yes,” he admits, nodding his head - Arthur Pendragon definitely has something about him and although he can’t really identify what, he’s sure it’s something beyond just his stunningly good looks and impressive bank account. “He’s not magical, though. I’m sure of that.”
Gwen shrugs, looking thoughtful. “But it’s strange that he attracts so much magical attention - first you, then Sophia…and now maybe someone else. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Merlin raises his shoulders hopelessly, because he has no reply to that, feeling slightly flummoxed by the whole thing. It was very strange indeed. “It must be why I’m attracted to him,” he says at last, smiling at the thought. “It’s definitely some magical mojo that’s got both me and Sophia entranced. ‘Cause there’s no way I’m attracted to that prat naturally.”
“I thought you said he’s got better?” Gwen frowns.
This comment causes Merlin to consider, for a moment, that Arthur has improved a little - but taking into account what a pompous prat he was in the first place, the change could hardly be classed as a momentous achievement.
Unaware of Merlin’s train of thought, however, Gwen goes on, “And besides, Sophia tried to kill Arthur, so she can’t have been that entranced.”
Merlin blinks, chest constricting at the reminder. As much as he sometimes despises the blond and his ridiculous orders, seeing Sophia standing over his crumpled body, with a bright blue staff and murderous expression, had nearly stopped Merlin’s heart completely. It’s an image he’s never likely to forget.
“Just face it, Merlin,” his friend smiles, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, “you like him and all his prattish ways.”
Merlin pouts. “I do not,” he argues, aware that he sounds painfully childish but unable to stop himself. He most definitely does not dream about his boss pinned naked to his desk, or bound to his bed by his ties. Nope, he most definitely does not. He doesn’t care what Gwen says.
“Right.” His friend laughs, sounding disbelieving. “You just come into work early and leave late because you enjoy fighting with the copy machine.”
Merlin suddenly wonders why he tells his friend anything, if this is how she abuses the information. Crossing his arms and giving her a scowl, he adopts his best haughty expression - one that he learnt directly from Arthur, ‘The King of Scary and Condescending Stares’. “I’m going to go,” he announces, trying to sound important and aloof, “before I blast you with my great and benevolent magic!”
He suddenly realises that maybe he should practice his haughty expressions in the mirror more, because all Gwen does is laugh, eyes dancing merrily. “Oh dear!” she exclaims, placing a hand on her heart. “You better go then. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of your ‘great and benevolent magic’!”
Merlin chooses to ignore her sarcasm and take the moral high ground, turning on a heel and heading back towards Arthur’s office. “Bye, ex-best-friend!” he calls over his shoulder, skipping back to his cubicle and prompting ignoring Arthur’s paperwork.
It’s all in a day’s work.
***
Two hours later, after having successfully managed to win three consecutive games of solitaire, as well as place two rude businessman on hold - and not Arthur, for once - Merlin finally decides he’s had enough of working for the day and takes a break.
Sniffing distastefully at his finished coffee cup, he picks it up, takes aim and hurls it towards the office bin, scowling irritably as it hits the side and bounces off the rim. He raises his hand, focuses his eyes, and grins in triumph as the coffee cup levitates off the ground and into its target.
Feeling momentarily quite pleased with himself, he swivels around on his chair, pointedly ignoring the beeping of his phone that means his boss is attempting to summon him; he was in Arthur’s office only half an hour ago, what more could the prat possibly want?
Merlin shakes his head and gets to his feet, deciding that if he’s going to feign innocence and pretend he’s not there, he better actually leave before Arthur comes out all bossy and indignant, attempting to fetch him; after all, it wouldn’t be the first time the blond has had to drag him to work by his ear.
Dusting the imaginary lint of his already shabby suit he heads for the door, immediately colliding with somebody coming in the opposite direction.
Letting out a rather pathetic howl of pain, he staggers backwards, closing his eyes and clutching his head in confusion.
When he looks up, however, feeling disorientated, he claps eyes on the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
She’s stood eerily motionless, completely unaffected by their collision, managing to look both dignified and regal, wrapped in a deep purple dress. It’s both flattering and sophisticated, sweeping effortlessly down her front and stopping just above her knees, adorned with delicate gold earrings and a long glittering necklace.
Despite her wardrobe, it’s her that captures his attention, looking stunning and unreal in the morning light. She’s tall, with long dark hair curled to her spine, and is deathly pale, her skin practically luminous against the material of her dress.
Merlin blinks at her bemusedly and feels sure he must have hit his head, because he just had to be hallucinating; he hadn’t come across someone so good-looking since he’d first clapped eyes on Arthur.
“You’re Merlin,” she says mildly, and it doesn’t really sound like a question.
“Um, yep,” Merlin replies anyway, utterly incapable of saying anything else. Why on earth would such a beautiful woman know who he was, anyway?
“I’m Morgana,” the woman says slowly, eyes flickering from the top of Merlin’s head down to his toes, as though searching for something important. It makes Merlin feel small, insignificant and really quite pathetic.
“Arthur’s stepsister?” he asks, remembering his boss’ mentions of the infamous stepsister. It made sense, really, for Arthur to have such a stunning sibling, and even though they look absolutely nothing alike, Uther had clearly won the genetic lottery with his children.
“And you’re his assistant,” Morgana says, deeming his question unworthy of a reply. “You’re not what I expected. And I always know what to expect.”
Merlin is unsure what to say, so just nods his head, suppressing the urge to cower under the woman’s impressive glare. If Arthur is ‘The King of Scary and Condescending Stares’, then Morgana is undoubtedly his Queen.
“Were you looking for me?” he says at last, frowning at her in confusion. Maybe she just wanted him to do some copying for her? His ability with the copying machine is company renowned - although not necessarily in a good way.
“Yes,” Morgana replies, making no move to lie. Her reply is open and instinctive and refreshingly unashamed. “I had to see you for myself.”
Merlin blinks, because he’s not sure how else to reply to such a sentence.
“Arthur told me you saved him from Sophia,” she continues lightly, although her eyes are bright and beaming. Her gaze runs over his face with frightening scrutiny, and Merlin resists the urge to flinch instinctively, irrationally self-conscious. “How did you manage that?”
Merlin gulps, feeling as though his answer is somehow important. “Well, it wasn’t that hard really,” he says, although it’s a complete lie; Sophia shot him with electricity. “She was just a small woman. Not very strong.”
Morgana nods, although her face says she doesn’t believe him. “A small woman who still managed to knock Arthur out,” she comments, awaiting his reaction. An eyebrow is raised delicately, her heel is tapping, and Merlin feels his head swim in confusion. What exactly was she expecting him to say?
“Maybe she just…took him by surprise?” he suggests, but he doesn’t sound very sure, even to his own ears. “I can’t really say - I wasn’t there.”
“But you walked in just afterwards, is that right?”
Merlin feels strangely like he’s being cross-examined. “Um…yes?” he replies.
“So you wouldn’t know how she knocked him out?” Morgana’s eyes narrow, tightening into slits; she looks distinctly less attractive. “No idea at all?”
Merlin shakes his head, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. It’s not as though he can actually come out and say that Sophia had probably knocked Arthur out with her long magical staff - one that happened to shoot electricity. He doesn’t know if Morgana has the ability to fire him, but it’s a something he doesn’t particularly want to find out.
He has to protect Arthur. Just like Dragon told him to.
“I can’t really tell you anymore,” he says, shrugging his shoulders in what he hopes is a casual manner.
It seems to satisfy Morgana - or perhaps she simply runs out of questions. “Right. Well, thanks for your help. Merlin.”
Throwing him one last mistrusting glance, she turns on her heel and marches away, leaving Merlin wondering, what the hell is wrong with the Pendragon’s?
***
To be continued...
Chapter 2
A/N Considering I've lost all the chapters of this I DID write, updates might take longer than I first thought. It's soul destroying to lose so much work ;) But comments might cheer me up and make me write faster! XDD
PAIRING: Merlin/Arthur
WORDS: This part 3000
RATING: PG-13 (at the moment)
GENRE: Modern AU, romance, drama
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
SUMMARY: Morgana has always protected her step-brother from magical threats through the strength of her visions, but when her powers begins to fail, it's up to somebody else to save the day. Enter Arthur's new bumbling assistant, Merlin.
Beta'd by sparkysluvchild :)
Awesome coverart by glaringcandle
Prologue
A/N As my laptop has died a painful death, I've lost A LOT of writing, including a lot of mostly finished fics. This is one of the only chapters of anything I had saved on my email, so I managed to retrieve it. :)
***
That Old Black Magic
Chapter 1 - Suspicious Minds
“So, how are you?” Merlin asks the next morning, stumbling into Arthur’s office and giving him a nervous smile. He’s clutching all Arthur’s important documents in messy hands, the papers unorganised and haphazard in his grasp. Taking into account that the idiot saved his life the night before, however, Arthur deems it polite not to say anything.
“I’m fine,” he says instead, straightening his tie and waving his assistant forward. “Thanks to you.”
Merlin flushes, a florescent scarlet colour, all the way from his neck to the tips of his overlarge ears. “Oh, it was nothing,” he smiles, dumping Arthur’s files onto the edge of his desk without finesse, wringing his hands. “I’m just glad you’re alright.”
Arthur nods and can’t help but smile back at him, deliberately ignoring the gross mistreatment of his documents. He’s had to turn a blind eye to a lot of things since Merlin’s started working for him, and now - through sheer force of habit - he finds it surprisingly easy to do so. He fears it’s down to personal growth.
“Is your face okay?” Merlin asks after a moment, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
Arthur blinks and realises that he’s been staring, so tears his gaze away to ghost a hand across his own bruised cheek. “Yeah, it’s fine. Who knew such a skinny woman could pack such a punch?” he jokes, attempting to make light of it. It’s the tried and tested Pendragon way: speak bullshit with such conviction that everyone else can’t help but nod and agree, no matter what tripe you come out with.
But despite Arthur’s words, Merlin does not smile. “A punch?” he repeats, sounding faintly disbelieving. “Right.”
Arthur assesses his assistant and frowns, wondering if Merlin knew the true origin of Sophia’s power; he had been the one to confront her, after all. Did he suspect she was magical? “What really happened last night, Merlin?” he finds himself asking, ready now to have the conversation he’d been too tired for the night before.
Merlin bites his lip and avoids his gaze, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. “Like I said when you woke up,” he begins, shrugging his shoulders, “I came to find you last night, about, um, paperwork, and I found you unconscious with Sophia standing over you. So I went up behind her and hit her on the head. She collapsed. The end.”
Arthur raises an eyebrow, finding himself (for some inexplicable reason) doubting his assistant’s answer. “Sounds simple,” he remarks casually, but in his mind’s eye he can see nothing but his sister’s terrified expression from the night before. The whole thing is anything but simple.
Merlin nods, seemingly finding no way to reply.
“So…Sophia didn’t seem strange to you?” Arthur presses, cocking his head - And by ‘strange’ he meant sociopathic and magical, yielding a bright blue staff that could shoot electricity and which almost burnt half his face off.
“Strange?” Merlin mouths. “Nope.” He then pauses, seemingly to reconsider. “Well, apart from her trying to attack her boyfriend strange,” he adds.
Arthur can’t help but smile, even though the whole situation is anything but funny. “Right, well, back to work then,” he says, attempting to restore some resemblance of normality back to the proceedings; he’s pretty sure other businessman don’t have to deal with psycho ex-girlfriends attempting to murder them.
“You seem to be taking it all rather well,” Merlin notes, cocking his head and assessing his boss with disbelieving eyes.
Arthur can’t really point out that magical murderers are a regular occurrence in his life, so just shrugs instead. “So do you,” he retorts.
Merlin looks away and shuffles uncomfortably, giving his arms a flailing wave. “So, what happened to Sophia?” he asks after a pause, doing a remarkably good job of attempting to change the subject.
It’s Arthur’s turn to look away, turning back to his computer and pretending to scroll through his emails, hand clenched white on his mouse. “My father took care of her,” he replies, and leaves it at that. Because there is simply no more he can say.
Merlin nods, knowing not to press. “Right."
The room descends into awkward silence, so Arthur straightens and looks back up, schooling his expression into one of a competent businessman. “What meetings do I have today?” he asks, attempting to divert the conversation while using his most superior voice. It’s a tactic that works extremely well in important business meetings, but is something that usually has strangely little effect on his new assistant - not even when Arthur uses his fiercest glares.
This time, however, Merlin seems relieved by the change of topic. “Oh, lots,” he babbles, holding up a number of spindly fingers and flicking each of them in turn. “Stockbrokers at ten, your father at twelve, and a really rude man who calls himself ‘Valiant’ at two.”
Arthur nods, taking in a breath and pushing the Sophia situation to the back of his mind; there was just no point in dwelling on it, Morgana would do it enough for the both of them.
“Alright,” he says, giving his assistant a dismissive wave, “you may go.”
Merlin looks insultingly relieved and heads for the door, all flailing limbs and bouncy footsteps. For perhaps the hundredth time in the period of a month, Arthur wonders why on earth he hired him.
Then he remembers the night before and is just thankful that he did.
***
“Gwen?” Merlin calls, bounding into the office’s cafeteria and looking for his friend.
He immediately spots her on the other side of the hall, sorting plates and shifting through cutlery, dressed in a long apron and stark white hat. It’s not the most flattering look on anyone and, once again, Merlin wonders why his friend actually chooses to work there. As he works for Arthur, however - a man he can barely stand for more than 10 minutes at a time - he knows confronting her about it would be slightly hypocritical, so he has always kept annoyingly silent on the matter.
He loops through the cafeteria tables, splattered with people, and appears at her side, giving her a bright, wide smile. “Hi,” he says, announcing himself quietly. He’s learnt his lesson regarding jumping out from behind tables - it almost always resulted in Gwen screeching and breaking an awful lot of plates.
“Oh,” she mouths, grinning. “Hey Merlin! What are you doing here?”
“Arthur dismissed me to do some paperwork or something,” he explains, waving a casual hand. He’s not really sure what Arthur does all day, but he knows it involves lots of stuffy businessman and long tedious documents, so Merlin never feels particularly inclined to ask.
“How is he this morning?” his friend asks, putting down her spoons and looking at him curiously.
Merlin shrugs. “Okay, I guess. A bit bruised.” He crosses his arms and looks away, face crinkling confusedly.
“What’s wrong?” Gwen asks immediately, sensing his unease like the best-friend she is. “You don’t seem very happy for someone who just stopped his boss getting killed by a magical socio-bitch.” It’s amazing how casual she sounds.
“I just -” Merlin takes in a breath and scratches his head, attempting to figure out how to explain himself without sounding like a complete nutter. He knows Gwen will believe him regardless, but it makes him feel like even more of a loon when he jumps to conclusions based on nothing but a ‘feeling’. “It’s just, you know I said I had a feeling something was going to go down before Sophia attacked?”
Gwen nods.
“Well, Sophia’s gone, but the feeling’s still there,” he explains, giving his shoulders a helpless shrug. “It feels like something is still after Arthur.”
“Sophia?” Gwen suggests, crinkling her nose. “Do you think she’ll come back? ‘Cause you didn’t kill her, did you?”
Merlin shakes his head. “No. Arthur said his father dealt with Sophia - whatever that means. And I believe him.”
“Who could it be, then?”
Merlin shrugs again - powerful he may be, but he's not actually psychic. “No idea. I guess I’ve just got to be on guard,” he says with a frown. Being on guard could hardly be classed as one of his strong points - it usually requires some degree of concentration. “Plus Arthur keeps asking questions about Sophia.”
Gwen blinks, eyes wide. “Do you think he knows?”
“That she was an evil sorceress?” Merlin says doubtfully, raising an eyebrow. “He’s a businessman. I really don’t think so.”
“He’s more than just a businessman - you said so yourself,” Gwen replies, looking so sincere and earnest that Merlin feels thankful that he can confide in her. He really wouldn’t know what to do without her unwavering support. “You said that there’s something about him.”
“Yes,” he admits, nodding his head - Arthur Pendragon definitely has something about him and although he can’t really identify what, he’s sure it’s something beyond just his stunningly good looks and impressive bank account. “He’s not magical, though. I’m sure of that.”
Gwen shrugs, looking thoughtful. “But it’s strange that he attracts so much magical attention - first you, then Sophia…and now maybe someone else. It can’t be a coincidence.”
Merlin raises his shoulders hopelessly, because he has no reply to that, feeling slightly flummoxed by the whole thing. It was very strange indeed. “It must be why I’m attracted to him,” he says at last, smiling at the thought. “It’s definitely some magical mojo that’s got both me and Sophia entranced. ‘Cause there’s no way I’m attracted to that prat naturally.”
“I thought you said he’s got better?” Gwen frowns.
This comment causes Merlin to consider, for a moment, that Arthur has improved a little - but taking into account what a pompous prat he was in the first place, the change could hardly be classed as a momentous achievement.
Unaware of Merlin’s train of thought, however, Gwen goes on, “And besides, Sophia tried to kill Arthur, so she can’t have been that entranced.”
Merlin blinks, chest constricting at the reminder. As much as he sometimes despises the blond and his ridiculous orders, seeing Sophia standing over his crumpled body, with a bright blue staff and murderous expression, had nearly stopped Merlin’s heart completely. It’s an image he’s never likely to forget.
“Just face it, Merlin,” his friend smiles, giving him a reassuring pat on the arm, “you like him and all his prattish ways.”
Merlin pouts. “I do not,” he argues, aware that he sounds painfully childish but unable to stop himself. He most definitely does not dream about his boss pinned naked to his desk, or bound to his bed by his ties. Nope, he most definitely does not. He doesn’t care what Gwen says.
“Right.” His friend laughs, sounding disbelieving. “You just come into work early and leave late because you enjoy fighting with the copy machine.”
Merlin suddenly wonders why he tells his friend anything, if this is how she abuses the information. Crossing his arms and giving her a scowl, he adopts his best haughty expression - one that he learnt directly from Arthur, ‘The King of Scary and Condescending Stares’. “I’m going to go,” he announces, trying to sound important and aloof, “before I blast you with my great and benevolent magic!”
He suddenly realises that maybe he should practice his haughty expressions in the mirror more, because all Gwen does is laugh, eyes dancing merrily. “Oh dear!” she exclaims, placing a hand on her heart. “You better go then. I don’t want to be on the receiving end of your ‘great and benevolent magic’!”
Merlin chooses to ignore her sarcasm and take the moral high ground, turning on a heel and heading back towards Arthur’s office. “Bye, ex-best-friend!” he calls over his shoulder, skipping back to his cubicle and prompting ignoring Arthur’s paperwork.
It’s all in a day’s work.
***
Two hours later, after having successfully managed to win three consecutive games of solitaire, as well as place two rude businessman on hold - and not Arthur, for once - Merlin finally decides he’s had enough of working for the day and takes a break.
Sniffing distastefully at his finished coffee cup, he picks it up, takes aim and hurls it towards the office bin, scowling irritably as it hits the side and bounces off the rim. He raises his hand, focuses his eyes, and grins in triumph as the coffee cup levitates off the ground and into its target.
Feeling momentarily quite pleased with himself, he swivels around on his chair, pointedly ignoring the beeping of his phone that means his boss is attempting to summon him; he was in Arthur’s office only half an hour ago, what more could the prat possibly want?
Merlin shakes his head and gets to his feet, deciding that if he’s going to feign innocence and pretend he’s not there, he better actually leave before Arthur comes out all bossy and indignant, attempting to fetch him; after all, it wouldn’t be the first time the blond has had to drag him to work by his ear.
Dusting the imaginary lint of his already shabby suit he heads for the door, immediately colliding with somebody coming in the opposite direction.
Letting out a rather pathetic howl of pain, he staggers backwards, closing his eyes and clutching his head in confusion.
When he looks up, however, feeling disorientated, he claps eyes on the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
She’s stood eerily motionless, completely unaffected by their collision, managing to look both dignified and regal, wrapped in a deep purple dress. It’s both flattering and sophisticated, sweeping effortlessly down her front and stopping just above her knees, adorned with delicate gold earrings and a long glittering necklace.
Despite her wardrobe, it’s her that captures his attention, looking stunning and unreal in the morning light. She’s tall, with long dark hair curled to her spine, and is deathly pale, her skin practically luminous against the material of her dress.
Merlin blinks at her bemusedly and feels sure he must have hit his head, because he just had to be hallucinating; he hadn’t come across someone so good-looking since he’d first clapped eyes on Arthur.
“You’re Merlin,” she says mildly, and it doesn’t really sound like a question.
“Um, yep,” Merlin replies anyway, utterly incapable of saying anything else. Why on earth would such a beautiful woman know who he was, anyway?
“I’m Morgana,” the woman says slowly, eyes flickering from the top of Merlin’s head down to his toes, as though searching for something important. It makes Merlin feel small, insignificant and really quite pathetic.
“Arthur’s stepsister?” he asks, remembering his boss’ mentions of the infamous stepsister. It made sense, really, for Arthur to have such a stunning sibling, and even though they look absolutely nothing alike, Uther had clearly won the genetic lottery with his children.
“And you’re his assistant,” Morgana says, deeming his question unworthy of a reply. “You’re not what I expected. And I always know what to expect.”
Merlin is unsure what to say, so just nods his head, suppressing the urge to cower under the woman’s impressive glare. If Arthur is ‘The King of Scary and Condescending Stares’, then Morgana is undoubtedly his Queen.
“Were you looking for me?” he says at last, frowning at her in confusion. Maybe she just wanted him to do some copying for her? His ability with the copying machine is company renowned - although not necessarily in a good way.
“Yes,” Morgana replies, making no move to lie. Her reply is open and instinctive and refreshingly unashamed. “I had to see you for myself.”
Merlin blinks, because he’s not sure how else to reply to such a sentence.
“Arthur told me you saved him from Sophia,” she continues lightly, although her eyes are bright and beaming. Her gaze runs over his face with frightening scrutiny, and Merlin resists the urge to flinch instinctively, irrationally self-conscious. “How did you manage that?”
Merlin gulps, feeling as though his answer is somehow important. “Well, it wasn’t that hard really,” he says, although it’s a complete lie; Sophia shot him with electricity. “She was just a small woman. Not very strong.”
Morgana nods, although her face says she doesn’t believe him. “A small woman who still managed to knock Arthur out,” she comments, awaiting his reaction. An eyebrow is raised delicately, her heel is tapping, and Merlin feels his head swim in confusion. What exactly was she expecting him to say?
“Maybe she just…took him by surprise?” he suggests, but he doesn’t sound very sure, even to his own ears. “I can’t really say - I wasn’t there.”
“But you walked in just afterwards, is that right?”
Merlin feels strangely like he’s being cross-examined. “Um…yes?” he replies.
“So you wouldn’t know how she knocked him out?” Morgana’s eyes narrow, tightening into slits; she looks distinctly less attractive. “No idea at all?”
Merlin shakes his head, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. It’s not as though he can actually come out and say that Sophia had probably knocked Arthur out with her long magical staff - one that happened to shoot electricity. He doesn’t know if Morgana has the ability to fire him, but it’s a something he doesn’t particularly want to find out.
He has to protect Arthur. Just like Dragon told him to.
“I can’t really tell you anymore,” he says, shrugging his shoulders in what he hopes is a casual manner.
It seems to satisfy Morgana - or perhaps she simply runs out of questions. “Right. Well, thanks for your help. Merlin.”
Throwing him one last mistrusting glance, she turns on her heel and marches away, leaving Merlin wondering, what the hell is wrong with the Pendragon’s?
***
To be continued...
Chapter 2
A/N Considering I've lost all the chapters of this I DID write, updates might take longer than I first thought. It's soul destroying to lose so much work ;) But comments might cheer me up and make me write faster! XDD