The Old Black Magic - Chapter 3
TITLE: That Old Black Magic (4/9)
PAIRING: Arthur/Merlin
GENRE: Modern AU, drama, romance
RATING: PG-13
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.
Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2
Cover Art by glaringcandle
A/N I'm very very sorry about the long wait for this chapter. I've had endless laptop problems and I thought I'd lost most of this fic, as well as others. But a lot of stuff has been recovered, so I should start updating soon. Anyone still reading? :/
***
That Old Black Magic
Chapter 3 - Sisterly Love
“Seriously, Gwen,” Merlin explains the next day, looking down at his free latte, “it was the scariest thing I’ve ever since. And it was just words. ‘She Will Die’. Written in fire.”
Gwen blinks at him, eyes wide and fearful. She shifts opposite him, biting her lip, dark curls bouncing. “And you didn’t see anything?”
“Nope,” Merlin replies, giving her a rather wane smile that he wishes wasn’t so blatantly transparent. He’d never been very good at not panicking in times of great crisis - he couldn’t help it, he was a worrier. “I went to the bathroom, came out, and there it was.”
“God,” Gwen breathes, looking as though she can scarcely believe it. Merlin knows his own expression isn’t much better. “Arthur really does attract magical folk like a moth to a flame.”
“Yeah, it’s getting weird now,” Merlin admits, wondering not for the first time about his boss’s knowledge of magic. There was only so oblivious one man could get, after all - he had to know something was up. “Who knew protecting him would be such a fiasco. When Dragon said I’d be watching out for him, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
“With great power comes great responsibility,” Gwen quotes, as she often does when he begins to complain about his magical abilities. “Do you have any idea who the ‘she’ is that the message refers to?”
Merlin shrugs, feeling more helpless by the second. “No. ‘She’ is hardly specific. Could be anyone.” He lets out a breath, closing his eyes for a brief second, bright images of Sophia, Arthur, fire and magic, flashing repeatedly through his mind. “To be honest, I’m just thankful it can’t mean Arthur. There’s only so much lurking in bushes I can handle.”
“It’s strange that they wrote it on his wall, though,” Gwen muses. She taps her fingers against the table, pulls a face, and flicks her gaze up to stare at him, frown deepening. “Sounds like a warning.”
“Well, Arthur certainly took it that way,” Merlin notes, remembering his boss’s reaction the previous day, pacing his apartment, face white and expression drawn. It had been a very awkward night. “I followed him all evening, and I could feel it. Something was there. It was weird. And after it happened, all Arthur kept saying was: ‘But she didn’t see anything.’”
Gwen’s brow creases in confusion. “What does that mean?” she asks, as though Merlin would somehow know the answer. Which he doesn’t.
“Damned if I know,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders. He glares down at the cafeteria table with squinted eyes, feeling a little bit cheated; Arthur was hardly forthcoming with information that didn’t involve clients and instructions on how to work the photocopier. “It’s not as though Arthur shares his private musings with me.” Suddenly aware that he sounds slightly bitter, he cringes and looks away, deliberately avoiding his friend’s eyes.
“He did invite you back to his apartment though,” Gwen points out, evidently sensing his despair and attempting to cheer him up. She’s lovely like that sometimes, which is one of many reasons as to why he adores her.
“But hardly for hot filthy sex,” Merlin finds himself saying, before his brain catches up with his mouth. He quickly blushes a brilliant red and attempts to backtrack, arms flailing wildly. “Not that I wanted hot filthy sex!”
Gwen looks faintly amused. Merlin doesn’t think she believes him.
***
“So, any idea who the ‘she’ is?” Arthur asks, despite already knowing what his step-sister’s answer will be. He’s just praying Morgana has somehow had a vision in the last ten seconds about the identity of the would-be killer, so they can just get Uther to deal with him and be done with it.
“No,” she replies, from the edge of his desk. They are stood in his office with the door shut and blinds closed, attempting to make sense of the night before, both tired and on edge. “And let’s hope we don’t find out,” she adds.
“Nothing?” Arthur whines, frowning slightly. “No inkling? No ‘feeling’?”
“Absolutely nothing.” Morgana sounds reluctant to admit it, and Arthur can’t say he really blames her - she’s usually full of answers.
The blond closes his eyes and runs his hands down his face. It didn’t make sense - any of it! How did somebody get into his apartment without he or Morgana realising? Unless it had been Merlin, of course. But Arthur doesn’t even want to think about that scenario, because it sends a sharp pain shooting through his chest, uncomfortable and unexplainable.
He sighs. “So you didn’t have any visions about someone breaking into my apartment?”
“I already told you,” Morgana snaps, looking exasperated, “I didn’t see anything!”
“How is that even possible?!” Arthur cries, flinging himself into his chair and raising his arms; he hates it when he’s not in control of something, when someone else has the upper hand.
Morgana’s eyes narrow. “Oh, so now you’re concerned about the blankness of my visions?”
Arthur just knows it’s intended as a rhetorical question, so doesn’t answer, waiting silently for her to continue. He’s not stupid enough to engage her in an argument - his life is in enough danger as it is!
“It’s Merlin,” she says at last, crossing her arms and adopting her ‘I told you I was right’ expression. It’s one she has perfected flawlessly over the years. “He was there and he blocked me.”
“It can’t be,” Arthur mutters, but it doesn’t convince Morgana or himself. Merlin had been just as surprised at he was about the words on the wall, so it absolutely couldn't have been him. Although…Arthur had to admit, Merlin had been the only other one in the apartment. That the blond knew of anyway.
“I told you he was dangerous,” his step-sister continues, looking through him with her all-seeing gaze. “But you’re too busy making eyes at him that you haven’t even noticed!”
Arthur starts, attempting to piece her words together into something resembling sense. She thought he liked Merlin?! Ridiculous. “I haven’t been making eyes at him!” he cries. Which is true. Merlin isn’t bad looking, he supposes, but he talks too often and his ears stick out at a funny angle. Definitely not Arthur’s type.
“You invited him to stay the night,” Morgana points out, faintly disbelieving.
The blond flounders. He’d just been doing his assistant a favour. He was capable of being nice sometimes - Morgana didn’t need to sound quite so surprised. “It was late,” he argues, frowning at his sister and attempting not to sulk in a manner far beneath his station.
“Arthur, you invited your assistant into your home,” she hisses, leaning forwards, so he can feel the fall impact of her glare.
He blinks back at her innocently, while she glares harder.
“Arthur, I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?!” she cries, after a strained pause. She throws up her arms and looks exasperated, in such a outburst of emotion Arthur recoils slightly in surprise. “Can’t you go even a couple of weeks without getting attacked by something magical?! Sophia, Nimueh, Afanc…Morgause. The list is endless!”
“It’s not my fault!” he says defensively, crossing his arms. “I didn’t do anything!” He pauses. “This time.”
Morgana glares.
“What?!” he cries, feeling a little bit insulted. Why did she never believe him? “I admit that the whole Sophia fiasco was partly - alright, fully! - my fault. Dating her was obviously never a particularly good idea on my part. But this has come out of nowhere. I honestly haven’t done anything.”
“You mean except ignore my advice?” she hisses, looking rather betrayed - it’s a look Arthur hates to see on her. “As per usual.” There’s a note of bitterness in her voice that the blond tries to ignore, determined not to feel guilty. But before he can attempt to suppress it, Morgana draws herself up and looks her brother directly in the eye, expression earnest. “Set it right, Arthur. Fire Merlin.”
Arthur sighs tiredly, attempting to avoid her gaze. He likes Merlin - in a none sexual way, obviously - and he doesn’t want to fire him. He’s good at…making coffee and stuff. “Morgana…” he starts.
“Please, I’m…I’m asking you,” she mutters, looking so uncharacteristically uncertain that Arthur can’t help but listen to her; she never usually asks for anything - a characteristic they both share - just demands. “Promise me. Promise me you’ll fire Merlin
Arthur opens his mouth, half wanting to argue but wilting under her intense expression. It’s Morgana, his scary sister, and she’s actually afraid.
“Please,” she reiterates softly.
“Ok,” the blond agrees weakly, unable to say no to his sister’s heartfelt pleading. He nods automatically, stomach turning. “If that’ll put your mind at rest. I promise I’ll fire him.”
Morgana smiles, grateful and relieved. “Thank you,” she says, eyes softening.
Arthur just feels faintly ill.
***
“So, Merlin…” Arthur begins an hour later, breathing heavily through his nose. He sits up straighter in his seat and gazes at his assistant - soon to be ex-assistant - over the surface of his mahogany desk, lacing his fingers together importantly. “You’re probably wondering why I called you here.”
Merlin blinks at him bemusedly and shrugs, looking completely unconcerned. “Not really,” he replies, giving Arthur a smile that is determinedly not returned. “You always call me in here. ‘Merlin, come and make me a coffee’. ‘Merlin, sort out my drawers collecting dust balls’. ‘Merlin, sharpen these 200 hundred pencils I will never use’.”
Arthur narrows his eyes and suppresses a pout, feeling defensive; the pencils were very important - it was always best to be prepared! “Yes, well, I’m calling you in about something different today.”
Merlin raises his eyebrows. “About last night?”
Arthur flounders, really not wanting to discuss the events of the previous night. “Um, no.”
“Oh,” Merlin mouths, looking surprised. “Only I thought you’d want to talk about it. Have you contacted the police yet?”
Arthur looks down at his desk and cringes; he’d been hoping that the police wouldn’t come up. “No. Nor do I intend to,” he says, layering the words with pointed meaning. When Merlin merely blinks back at him confusedly, however, he sighs, resisting the urge to smash his head against his keyboard as he says, “And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t either.”
He knows he’s not in a particularly good position to ask his assistant for any favours (considering he’s about to fire him) but he hopes that Merlin is nice enough to stay silent regardless - or maybe he could pay him off? Merlin was about to become unemployed after all, so he would certainly need the money.
“I don’t understand,” Merlin states, eyebrows creasing together into a bewildered frown. “You’re not reporting it? Why?!”
Arthur snaps his jaw. “Personal reasons.”
For once in his life, Merlin takes the hint. “Oh, ok,” he mouths, although he looks even more baffled than before. He shakes his head, and begins to watch his boss with an unfamiliar intensity, long and searching. “I won’t say anything….But do you know who did it?”
Arthur buries his head in his hands for one brief moment, attempting to suppress his frustration and pull himself back together again; this was not how the conversation was supposed to be going. “No, I don’t,” he replies at last, lifting his head to fix his assistant with his most earnest stare. He was going to do it - fire Merlin! - and no amount of Bambi eyes or wobbling lips were going to stop him. “Look, Merlin -”
“Do you feel uncomfortable about last night?!” his assistant blurts, before Arthur can finish his sentence. He flushes in embarrassment, twists his fingers, and for the first time in the conversation, looks distinctly uneasy. “Is that why you’re being so weird? Because you don’t need to explain it to me. I know it was just a friendly offer.”
Arthur feels curious despite himself, suddenly lost by the direction the conversation had taken. “As opposed to what?” he asks, shaking his head.
Merlin turns redder. “You know, I know it wasn’t an offer for anything else. I know you wouldn’t be interested. You don’t have to tell me.”
Arthur suddenly feels as though he and Merlin are having two separate conversations; was Merlin honestly implying that the nightcap could have been taken as a come-on? “I wasn’t suggesting anything!” he cries, taken aback. He was only trying to be friendly, for god’s sake! Why did everyone always assume he had an ulterior motive?
His assistant glances away and frowns. “I know,” he replies soothingly, “that’s what I was trying to say. I know you weren’t suggesting anything; I don’t expect anything from you. It was just a friendly nightcap.”
“Yes, I know,” Arthur says, unsure of why Merlin was telling him; he knew it was just a friendly nightcap, he’d been the one to offer it!
“Oh,” Merlin breathes. “I just thought, that you thought, that I thought, that it was a come-on. And it was making you uncomfortable. But don’t worry, I know it wasn’t.”
Arthur can safely say he’s never felt so confused in his life. But he nods anyway, faking understanding, so he return the conversation to somewhat normal ground - preferably where they’re both speaking the same language. “Right,” he says slowly, pursing his lips. “Well, actually, I didn’t call you here about anything regarding last night. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
Merlin sits up straighter in his chair, expression alarmed, and mouths, “What?” in a worryingly high voice.
Arthur looks away from him, feeling guilt churn in his gut. Merlin may not be the best assistant in the world - or even the 1000th best assistant in the world - but he honestly doesn’t deserve to be fired. He was fun to be around, strangely defiant, and always gave Arthur an extra biscuit with his coffee in the morning.
Arthur really hates his sister sometimes.
He takes in a deep breath and readies himself, expression determined. “I’m afraid I have to -” Arthur chokes slightly on his own spit. “I have to -” He cringes. “I’m sorry, I -” He closes his eyes, as though it would protect him from Merlin’s wrath. “I’m really sorry, but you’re f - !”
The phone rings.
“Oh, thank god,” the blond cries, lurching forward and picking up the handset, relief rolling off him in waves. He answers the phone with false cheer and waves Merlin away, glad that he can postpone the inevitable for just a little bit longer.
Merlin looks confused but does as he asks, getting slowly to his feet and moving to the door. He throws Arthur a funny look before disappearing, arms swinging happily at his sides.
***
“Gwen,” Merlin says, bobbing up behind her and letting out a whine, “Arthur’s being weird.”
His friend looks up from her spoons and raises an eyebrow. “Weirder than usual?”
“Yes,” Merlin insists, scrunching up his face. He dips his fingers into the soup she’s making and brings the substance to his lips, ignoring his friend’s horrified yelp. “He called me into his office for a proper talk.”
Gwen bats his hands away and jabs him in the stomach. “About last night?”
“Apparently not,” he replies, lifting himself up to sit on the cafeteria counter. “It was all very weird. At first I thought he knew I liked him and was just trying to let me down gently. But when I tried to explain that I knew nothing could ever happen between us, he looked as though he had no idea what I was talking about.”
“Oh.” She frowns thoughtfully for a moment before smiling. “Maybe he was trying to ask you out and was nervous.”
Merlin’s stomach does a funny flip, but he ignores it, as he’s prone to doing in Arthur’s presence. “I don’t think so,” he says, sounding far more mournful than he initially intended; he hates that he’s so transparent. Arthur was probably the one person in the office unaware of his feelings for him, but he was all sorts of oblivious, so it was really to be expected. “If it was good news, he would have just told me.”
Gwen inclines her head slowly, unable to argue with the logic. “I suppose,” she mutters, before beaming like the blind optimist she is. “But you never know.”
Merlin doesn’t feel particularly hopeful but smiles at her enthusiasm, grateful for the support. “I better get back,” he says after a pause, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m supposed to be sat at my desk.”
“Do you think Arthur will call you back in?” his friend asks.
Merlin shrugs. “Maybe. So I better go and actually be there for when he calls.”
***
“You called,” Merlin says half an hour later, stepping back into Arthur’s office and taking a seat.
Arthur shifts uncomfortably and nods, expression strained. “Yes,” he replies, “we need to finish our conversation from earlier.”
Merlin’s eyebrows crease, and he leans forward, looking confused. “Ok,” he says slowly, uncharacteristically worried, brow furrowed into a cute little frown.
Arthur opens his mouth to speak, his mind screaming at him to ‘FIRE MERLIN!’, but says nothing, actually unable to choke the words out. He hasn’t been so tongue-tied since he was sixteen and his father had caught him half-naked on the couch with his girlfriend. There was just something different about Merlin and he really didn’t want to fire him. It was strange - he had never felt so attracted to a mere employee before.
“I’m sorry,” he says at last, as Merlin gazes at him expectantly. “I’m afraid I’ve got to f -”
The phone rings again.
Arthur closes his eyes and lets out a frustrated sigh, while inwardly feeling quite relieved. It felt like the universe was conspiring against him, trying to stop him from firing his assistant. Morgana would no doubt be furious that he still hadn’t done it, but he found that he really didn’t care - he still got to boss Merlin around for one day longer.
“I’ve got to take this,” he informs his still-assistant, leaning towards the phone. “It’s 5 o’clock. You can go home.”
Merlin raises his eyebrows in surprise, before smiling, looking thankful. “Great. See you tomorrow.” He gets to his feet and bounces from the room, still happily oblivious to Arthur’s attempts to fire him.
The blond shakes his head tiredly and answers the phone, bringing the handset to his ear.
And promptly drops it in horror 30 seconds later.
To be continued....
Chapter 4
***
A/N This was a pretty non-event chapter, but things move quickly from here. Sorry about that :/ Urgh, I fail.