Chapter Twelve: When the world comes crumbling down (I've got you to piece it back together again)
Arthur woke with his head smashed awkwardly against a cloth headboard. He wasn’t used to waking up with kinks in his neck from awkwardly shaped beds and headboards, but then he remembered that he had been sitting on Merlin’s bed and… and had fallen asleep.
He shot up in the bed only to find that Merlin was still asleep next to him, fully clothed - thank heaven - and snoring lightly with his mouth hanging open in the most unattractive position Arthur had ever seen a man. Somehow he still managed to look adorable and Arthur only just barely stopped himself from patting his head.
Instead, he shook Merlin’s shoulder until he finally cracked one eye open with a sound as though he were dying.
“Wha?” he asked, a sliver of his eye the only thing indicated that he wasn’t talking in his sleep.
“Aren’t you going to get up,” Arthur asked with a slight smile, “pub needs cleaning after your escapades last night.
Merlin closed his eyes again and turned his face away, “prat, get out of my bed.”
Arthur complied and went into the kitchen. There wasn’t much food to forage in his kitchen, but he managed to scrounge together a few pieces of toast, a glass of orange juice, and a piece of fruit. It was a pitiful combination, but the best he could manage with such meager grazing. The toaster protested loudly and he ended up spending an ungodly amount of time attempting to fix it until finally he found a pan to grill the bread on.
By the time he had finished and was bringing the plate to Merlin’s room-- who would argue against breakfast in bed with a massive hangover?-- Merlin had already left. The bed was unmade and his pajamas were thrown haphazardly onto the floor.
“He’s gone where he always does now,” Will said from the doorway. Arthur barely managed to prevent himself from spilling in his haste to turn around.
“You have a tendency to sneak up on people when you’re not blundering about drunk,” Arthur said, carefully slowing the swaying of the orange juice in the cup.
“You have a tendency to exist when other’s don’t want you to,” Will snapped and left with a grumpy ‘humph’.
Arthur found Merlin sitting next to the car in the parkway. He was rubbing painfully at his eyes and when Arthur sat down slowly beside him and offered the food he took it without a word. A few bights in and he finally said in a stony voice, “I know what happened. How she killed him.”
Slowly, Arthur nodded so that he knew Merlin could see. They sat in silence as he finished the small amount of food Arthur had pieced together.
“Morgana has magic,” Merlin said as way of introducing the problem at hand after he swallowed the last piece of toast.
“Yeah,” Arthur responded.
“I need to stop Morgana and Morgause.” Merlin shifted so that his back rested against the remnants of his car. He wrapped his arms around his legs again, exactly as he’d done the night before.
“How are you going to do that?” Arthur asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt them. Morgana- I know she’s not evil-”
“-So do I.”
“Morgause must have done something to convince her that these extreme actions were necessary. Morgause is the one who needs to be taken out,” Merlin said as though he’d just reached a revelation.
“And how do you suppose you’ll go about doing that?” Arthur asked, hesitant to hear the answer.
Merlin sighed weakly, “I can’t use magic against them. It goes against all of my morals.”
“Morals,” he laughed. “Morals aren’t necessarily applicable to this situation.”
Merlin gave him a death glare. “You can talk. You refused to take my car from a scrapheap past their closing hour.”
“That was chivalry, there’s a difference,” Arthur said, smiling at him.
“Whatever,” Merlin said, clearly forcing a smile off his face.
Arthur leaned against the car. By the time his shirt had touched the metal he’d suddenly thought of an idea. Damn, ideas were coming non stop for him lately!
He stood up in his excitement, his vision going briefly dark from rising too fast. “I think I’ve got an idea!”
“Rare,” Merlin said testily and stood up too, taking a moment to brush off his trousers.
“I can’t tell you though. Well, not yet anyway,” he said. “Do you trust me?”
Merlin gave him a sceptical look, but he nodded after a few heart clenching moments and, biting his lip said, “I think I actually do.”
Arthur reached out to grab his elbow. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the corner of Merlin’s mouth, where the frown line was beginning to show from the past few weeks.
“I’ll be back,” he gave Merlin’s elbow one last squeeze.
*********************
Morgana came into the room holding her typical cup of coffee. Arthur had to stop himself from shouting at her when he saw her smug expression.
“Arthur,” she said, as though she hadn’t hurt him or couldn’t see the sling still supporting his injured arm.
“Morgana,” he nodded in greeting. She made her way around the table in slow motion, clearly trying to take control of the situation and Arthur easily let her.
“Is there something you need?” she asked. Arthur leaned forward in his seat and put his good arm onto the desk as professionally as possible.
“I have something I’d like to offer to do for you,” he said and waited for her to nod for him to continue before he said, “I’d like to convince Merlin to sell Camelot Construction the pub.”
Morgana masked her surprise with a tiny cough to clear her throat and hide her surprise. “And why would you like to do so?”
“I’m tired of the pub. The whole bass and gig thing is getting old,” Arthur said, waving his hand dismissively. “Besides, Merlin has done nothing but lead me on.”
Morgana’s eyebrows shot up. “Lead you on? You’re telling me you’ve had a thing for him before and now it’s done?”
“It never started,” Arthur replied.
“Well,” Morgana crossed her arms and pressed her lips into a thin line. “That sounds like the ideal arrangement. What’s the catch?”
“I’m not father,” he said with just the right amount of annoyance. “I don’t make plans only for them to involve some sort of blackmail.”
With a single look of calculation Morgana smiled and extended her hand. “Deal.” They shook on it and Arthur flinched at her cold-fingered grip.
*********************
When Arthur entered into the pub Merlin was cleaning the counter in quick, irritated wiping motions. He mumbled as he did so and flinched when Arthur announced his presence with a single loud grunt.
“Close the pub,” Arthur said and then realized how rude that sounded. A bit more gently he said, “Merlin, will you close the pub tonight?”
“For what?” Merlin asked and tossed the rag into the sink. He pulled out a plastic container filled with bottle stops and began unscrewing lids only to push a stopper in immediately afterwards.
“You’ve got to come with me,” Arthur said, “it’s important.”
“I can’t afford to have it closed,” Merlin said, irritation clear in his voice and sharp movements.
“I’ll run it tonight,” Freya said. Arthur hadn’t even seen her in the corner of the bar, but she sounded confident enough.
“You can’t possibly run it on your own. It’s poker evening at the restaurant down the street. You know how busy we get,” Merlin replied and continued to put bottle stops on.
“Merlin,” Arthur grouched, “it’s important.”
“You sound like a pesky five year old,” Merlin said without looking up. “And I don’t like children.”
“Really,” Freya interjected, “I can handle it. Besides, Gwance is meant to be coming in a bit later on and Will’s right upstairs.”
Merlin stopped and looked at her. “You’ve gotten as bad as him,” but he stepped back and brushed his fingers through his hair in resignation.
“It’s important?” he asked Arthur.
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”
****************
It wasn’t until they arrived at Camelot Construction that Arthur realized his mistake. Merlin didn’t say anything until he had dragged him nearly kicking and shouting into the building.
“Merlin, you need to trust me. I need you to trust me,” Arthur hissed as they made it to the office.
“I hate you,” Merlin said and turned to leave. “You’ve turned against me. I should have known.”
Arthur grabbed him by the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him into the office.
At the desk, Morgana was sitting, legs crossed tightly and a giant mug of coffee in front of her, her lips spread into a wicked smile. “Hello boys.”
