Dóchas Part 4
“Hello!” Gwen says brightly as Morgana and Arthur join her and Lance in church.
“Glad to see you back Arthur,” Lance says warmly.
“Well, you never know how you truly feel about something after only one time. I want to give this a fair go,” Arthur replies sagely.
“Glad to hear it,” a different, but familiar voice says.
Arthur jumps and turns to see Merlin, standing beside their pew.
“Good morning.” He smiles at all of them.
“Good morning.” Morgana smiles back. “How are you?”
“Very well thank you. Mind if I sit with you all?”
“Not at all, please do,” Gwen says sweetly.
Merlin sits and beams at Arthur, who grins goofily back. Quickly though, he’s drawn in to a conversation with Morgana and Gwen about transub-something or other, which Arthur tries, but fails to follow. Instead, he focuses on looking around the church; taking in the pictures on the wall - the Twelve Station of the Cross, St. John the Baptist, Jesus curing the lepers. Again, he notices that other people in the church are staring at him, some still suspiciously, but some in confusion. Arthur mentally chuckles, and then stands as the organ plays and mass begins. This time, he really tries to pay attention to everything that’s happening, but it’s so hard with Merlin pressed against him from shoulder to knee. Somehow, he manages to keep up with the standing, sitting and kneeling, mumbling vague noises under his breath, and he breathes a sigh of relief when it’s all over.
“How was it this week?” Merlin asks him, as they walk out of the church.
“Better. Still a bit confusing and hard to keep up with, but better,” Arthur admits.
“Good. So, will I see you at Moira’s again this week?” Merlin asks with a hopeful edge.
Arthur’s heart leaps, and he has to remind himself that it means nothing, that Merlin’s just being friendly. He’s about to reply, when Morgana jumps in.
“Oh, you saw Merlin at Moira’s last week did you?” She asks, amusement tingeing her voice.
“Yes, we bumped into each other and got talking,” Arthur replies, desperately hoping his voice sounds even.
“Oh lovely. You know, I was thinking of going to Moira’s myself today; mind if I join you?”
“No, not at all,” Merlin answers cheerfully, “the more the merrier.”
“Excellent. Hey Gwen!” Morgana calls across to Gwen, who’s arranging flowers at the church door. “Do you and Lance want to come to lunch with Arthur, Merlin and I in Moira’s?”
“Ooo yeah okay,” Gwen replies happily. “Is 2 o’clock okay?”
“Perfect, see you then!” Morgana thrills, and turns back to Arthur, who’s scowling, and Merlin, who’s bemused.
“Better hope the wind doesn’t change,” she says archly, grinning when Arthur scowls even more.
“Come on, we’d better get home,” Arthur says. “I’ll see you later Merlin.”
“See you Arthur, see you Morgana,” Merlin says, stepping back towards the church.
“Bye,” Morgana calls.
She and Arthur start off for home, and no sooner are they out of the church grounds than Arthur grinds out, “So good of you to invite yourself along Morgana.”
“Now now Arthur, you can’t be keeping Merlin all to yourself,” Morgana chides. “Besides, I can hardly think that you’d be very scintillating company.”
“Well if I’m not very scintillating company then why does he want to meet up with me twice a week then eh?” Arthur bites out heatedly.
“He wants to what?” Morgana asks, expression incredulous.
Arthur flushes, curses his temper and Morgana, and then replies, “We’re meeting up twice a week - one night to talk about religion and faith, and the second to hang out.”
“Arthur… are you actually making friends with a religious person?”
“Shut up.” Arthur scowls.
“Oh, my little brother’s growing up!” Morgana squeals, giving him a hug. “I’m so proud of you!”
“Shut up,” Arthur repeats, but this time he’s smiling.
When they’re back in the house and dressed in their normal clothes, Morgana gestures for him to follow, and leads him out the back to their old tree house. It’s small and cramped, but it holds good memories, and it’s perfect for private conversations.
“Remember when I told Uther that my night course changed from one to two nights a week?” She asks casually, once they’re settled.
“Yes?”
“Well… I was lying. I’m doing something else on that second night.”
“… What is it?”
“I-” Morgana stares down at her lap, then sighs, looks Arthur dead in the eye, and says, “I’m becoming a member of the Catholic Church.”
“What, like Merlin?”
Arthur tries to imagine Morgana like that, and simply can’t, it’s too ridiculous.
“No no, like Gwen and Lance - I’m going to become a Catholic.”
“Oh.”
Arthur’s silent for far too long, and Morgana begins to feel a curl of something horrid in her stomach, when he suddenly smiles and says, “If that’s what you want, then I support you.”
“Thank you,” Morgana smiles brilliantly. “That means a lot to me.”
“You can thank me by getting your hurl and going one on one with me so I can kick your ass.”
“Bring it on.”
“Where are you two going?” Uther asks, as they try to sneak out the door.
Arthur curses his father’s amazing hearing, while Morgana answers smoothly, “We’re going for lunch with Gwen and Lance.”
“Oh,” Uther says stiffly, his face hard.
Morgana had gushed about Gwen and Lance when she had first met them and Uther had been all in favour of her new friendships, but when she had mentioned their being religious, he had freaked, and had tried to ban her from seeing them. There had been many, many fights over them, and eventually, it had been silently agreed that there would be no more mention of Gwen and Lance.
“Why are you going with her Arthur?”
“Oh, um, Lance did the sports rehab course in UCG, I wanted to ask him about it,” Arthur lies, keeping his face neutral.
Uther regards him keenly for a few moments, before nodding.
“Would you like us to bring you back anything?” Morgana asks gently.
“No thank you,” Uther replies with a soft smile. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“We will,” Morgana smiles, and she and Arthur hurry off.
Lunch turns out to be a very pleasant affair; Gwen and Lance are lovely and funny and the kind of couple you want to hate but can’t because they’re just so damn nice and sweet. Yet again, Arthur finds himself pressed against Merlin, as they all squish around a corner table, and he loses himself a little in Merlin’s laugh and his voice and animated expression as he tells stories from his time in the seminary - the time they switched the demonstration baby used for practising baptisms for one that cried every time it was picked up, going to mass in the middle of the night, and the time they observed a funeral of a man, who’s loved ones dressed up as clowns. All too soon, they’re done, and Arthur regretfully goes to pay and makes his way outside with the others.
“This was great fun,” Lance says warmly, “I wouldn’t be opposed to making this a weekly thing.”
“Me neither,” Morgana agrees, while Gwen smiles at Lance like he’s suggested the way to bring about world peace.
“Great idea,” Merlin says, while Arthur nods. “I look forward to it.”
The five make their goodbye and part ways, and when they get home, Morgana wordlessly hands Uther a doughnut and a pack of cards, while Arthur goes to his room and stares at his CAO form, willing it to fill itself out.
*****
“Father, if I was to ask you why bad things happen to good people, what would you say?” Merlin asks his mentor as he reads over Revelations.
“Merlin, are you having a crisis of faith?” Father Gaius asks, perturbed. “You’ve been asking me strange questions all day.”
“No no, no crisis at all,” Merlin hastily answers. “It’s just… do you know Arthur Pendragon?”
“Not personally no, but his reputation precedes him. Why?”
“Well, he’s started going to mass, and I bumped into him, and it turns out he’s rather lacking in faith, due to… circumstances,” Merlin explains. “So I’ve offered to talk to him about faith and religion, which he’s happy about, so I’m trying to anticipate what questions he’s going to ask.”
Father Gaius’ eyebrows are nearly in his hairline he’s so astonished, and he coughs and says, “I see… Well my boy, I’m sure you already know the answers to these questions.”
“Well, yes,” Merlin confesses, “but I want to know what you’d say.”
Father Gaius smiles and replies, “I think it would be better if Arthur were to hear what your opinion is, and not the opinion of an old priest. Now, shouldn’t you be getting back to your work?”
“Oh, yes.” Merlin nods, quickly putting his nose back in the book, making notes every now and then, while Father Gaius regards him with a fond, fatherly smile.
*****
Arthur knocks on the door of the priest’s house, and continues reading the Bible.
“Okay,” he says as the door’s opened, not bothering to look up from the book, “I haven’t read the whole thing yet, but seriously, you believe all this? God created the Earth in six days? Adam and Eve populated the Earth and lived nearly a thousand years?”
“Ah, the sound of the uneducated,” an old, amused voice says. “If I had known it would be this much fun, I’d have talked to you myself.”
Arthur jumps, and looks up in shock at the face of the parish priest, who gazed back at him, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Good evening Arthur,” he says in greeting.
“Good evening Father,” Arthur mumbles, his face burning from blushing so much.
“Merlin’s in the living room,” Father Gaius tells him, stepping out the front door. “Please let him know I’ve gone to bingo.”
The priest walks off, and Arthur takes a moment to allow his blush to fade away, before he enters the house. He closes the front door, and then makes his way into the sitting room, where he finds Merlin, engrossed in a bunch of hand-written notes. He coughs, and Merlin jumps, dropping the sheets of paper.
“Oh!” Merlin cries, looking around. “Sorry, I didn’t know if it was you at the door, and Father Gaius was leaving as you knocked, and he said he’d get it.”
“Yeah, he said to tell you he’s gone to bingo,” Arthur says wryly.
“Ah yes, the secret addiction of all priests.”
“Are you sure you can stand the excitement of it?” Arthur asks dryly.
“We like to live dangerously,” Merlin winks.
Arthur laughs and takes a seat beside him.
“Okay, so first of all, you’re going to explain the start of this to me,” Arthur says firmly, holding up the Bible, “because Genesis is hella-confusing.”
Merlin grins and says wryly, “Let me guess, you think it’s all a bunch of clap trap and nonsense, what with God creating the Earth in six days and Adam and Eve living hundreds of years.”
Arthur goes slightly red and replies lowly, “Yes, well that’s what’s written in it.”
Merlin laughs and replies, “Yes it is, but it’s not meant to be taken literally. Most of the Old Testament is parables - they’re stories used either to explain things or to teach a lesson. Genesis is simply an attempt to explain the creation of Earth and the beginning of humanity. A friend of mine from college believes it’s all a scientific metaphor - ‘Let there be light!’ equals the Big Bang. It helps him bolster his faith.”
“I don’t understand why anyone would want to bolster their faith,” Arthur snorts in slight contempt.
“A lot of people have faith in many different things - be it love, diligence, honesty, people, or God.”
“Yes, but if you have too much faith in something, you become dependent on it, and you forget of all the bad things that can happen - such as when God lets bad things happen to good people.”
“Ah yes, I thought you might mention that.” Merlin grins fondly. “What you need to remember is that God is our Father. Now, what any parent wants to do is wrap their child in bubble wrap and never let a bad thing happen to them, but they know that their child will never learn or grow if they don’t experience the world on their own, make mistakes or get hurt. So, they have to let them go off, and keep an eye on them, and try to comfort them as best they can when things go wrong.”
Arthur thinks of Uther: how he’s worked all his life to shield Arthur from the perils of faith, how he’s failed miserably to notice when things are truly distressing him, but how he tends to him when he’s sick or in trouble.
“Even when they fail us, we still have faith in our parents to be there for us, and have our best intentions at heart,” Merlin says gently.
“You… you’re right,” Arthur replies, voice rough. “I’d never thought about it that way…”
“I know it’s still hard for you, because of your mother, and how your father was afterwards, but God did not abandon you during that time. He was there in the people that visited you, in the people that took care of your mother, in the strength and courage you and your father had during that difficult time.”
“Maybe,” Arthur says with some difficulty, “but I still can’t see how that justifies our blind faith in him at the time.”
Merlin is silent for a moment, his expression troubled and pensive, as if he’s trying to make a hard decision.
After a while, he says, “Arthur, you have little to no faith in God. What is he to you?”
Arthur shrugs and replies, “Nothing really.”
“Right, so he’s meaningless to you. Now think about faith in general - faith in people, in technology, in the government, in the future. Imagine what the world would be like if people had no faith, in anything.”
“It would be… hopeless,” Arthur replies after a moment’s thought. “People would just give up.”
“Yes. So can you see how important faith is?”
Arthur nods and Merlin continues. “For some people, their faith in God is the only thing that keeps their faith in everything else in life. Do you realise just how important faith in God can be?”
Arthur realises that it’s true, while simultaneously realising that he himself has so very little faith or hope in anything, the same with his father. It creates a sickening feeling in his stomach, and a powerful yearning for something he can’t truly understand.
Arthur and Merlin talk a while more about faith in the world, and Merlin finishes their session with a story:
A man has a dream in which he’s walking down a beach with God beside him, both of them leaving footprints in the sand. These footprints stretch back behind them, representing the man’s life. Looking back, the man is troubled to see that there are moments - moments of trouble in his life, when there is only a single set of footprints, so he turns to God and says, “Lord, why did you leave me when my life was difficult?” And God smiles and replies, “My child, I would not abandon you when you needed me most. Those are not times when you walked alone; those are the times I carried you.”
Later that night, Arthur, while thinking about that story, feels a lump in the back of his throat, and realises, that for the first time since his mother died, he’s close to tears.
*****
Merlin and Arthur are playing a little one-on-one hurling on their Friday hanging out; Merlin’s surprisingly good, very graceful with his footwork. During a water break, Merlin turns to him and says, “I was thinking about what you said, about it being difficult to justify faith after a horrible experience, and I have a story to tell you.”
“Okay,” Arthur says curiously, “shoot.”
Merlin settles on the grass, and takes a gulp of water, before speaking.
“My mother is a Catholic, but my father was a Protestant. I know it means nothing now, but back when they were young, in Ireland, especially in Northern Ireland; it was insane to even think of Catholics and Protestants associating with each other. They fell in love regardless of this, keeping their relationship a secret, and decided to elope. They managed to steal away, and were married in a registry office, before my mother’s brothers caught up with them. They dragged my father away and beat him to death, while my mother watched from a hidden corner. She luckily managed to escape to England, and hasn’t spoken to her family since. Even though religion and hatred killed the man she loved, she still has an unbelievable faith in God, and thanks him every day that she and I are healthy and safe.”
At this point, Merlin looks directly at Arthur and finishes with, “She told me all this when I was young, and was questioning God’s love and power when bad things happen. It’s always stuck with me when I think about how important faith is.”
Arthur stares at him in shock, unable to believe just how close Merlin came to ending up like him. It twists Arthur’s insides to think of a Merlin without faith or peacefulness or God, and he wonders if this is how Merlin feels about him.
“Merlin, I… that’s really shit,” he says, swallowing with difficulty. “I can’t imagine how your mother made it through such an ordeal.”
“Sometimes I can’t either,” Merlin replies sadly. “Just… keep that story in mind, eh?”
Arthur nods solemnly, and Merlin smiles in reply and then stands.
“Come on, let’s get back to me beating you,” he grins, holding a hand out. “I believe it’s 2-6 to 1-7?”
“Oh believe me; this game will end with me as the winner.” Arthur grins back.
Merlin laughs. Arthur takes his hand, and lets himself be helped up.
*****
A few weeks later, Arthur and Morgana are walking back from mass, when Morgana turns to him and says happily, “You know, you’re starting to look so much more relaxed and peaceful lately.”
“Thanks, I feel that way too,” Arthur replies in a pleased tone.
Mentally, Arthur thanks Merlin for his help through all this - their sessions are becoming more and more in depth, and they’ve become more personal too: Arthur told Merlin about his past and the way he treated religious people, and Merlin simply smiled and told him that as long as he was sorry, then all was forgiven. Arthur has started to accept God in his life, and it’s having a very positive effect on him. He’s also taken it upon himself to learn the prayers he needs for mass, and finds the message behind many of them comforting. He and Merlin have become very close, and while he still fancies the pants off Merlin, it’s tempered by the sweet and wonderful friendship they have. Since starting to develop an interest in religion, Arthur’s life had greatly improved. The only problem is, hiding it at home.
Morgana’s no help with this - now that both of them are on the bandwagon, she wants to tell Uther everything, and try to bring him around to their way of thinking. Arthur is adamantly against this.
“No,” he says firmly as Morgana brings it up yet again. “We’re not telling him anything. And if you try to, I’ll… I’ll deny it all.”
“No you won’t,” Morgana replies shrewdly.
Arthur sighs and replies miserably, “No… I won’t. But please Morgana, for the sake of peace, don’t say anything.”
Morgana sighs in frustration, but replies, “Fine… But only for you.”
“Thank you,” Arthur says gratefully.
Of course though, Morgana being Morgana, she can’t fully drop anything, and Arthur grits his teeth when she says oh-so-casually at dinner that night, “So Uther, I heard there’s a jazz and blues band playing in town next week.”
“Really?” Uther asks interestedly. “Where?”
“In the Church,” Morgana answers promptly.
Arthur flinches, and Uther stiffens, before he says darkly, “We’re not going.”
“Why not?” Morgana challenges.
“Because I will not set foot in that monstrosity of a place,” Uther growls, glaring fiercely at Morgana, who glares frostily back.
“It’s not a monstrosity of a place!” She cries angrily. “It’s a place people go to be together and pray, you know, like the one you used to head?”
“Shut up!” Uther roars. “You will never mention that again!”
Morgana stares at him darkly, but remains silent.
Arthur raises his head slightly, thinking furiously of a subject of conversation to distract Uther with, when Morgana mutters, “Gwen and Lance go to church, and they’re perfectly lovely people.”
Arthur groans and lowers his head, and Uther snaps, “We agreed not to speak of them again!”
“They’re my friends; I’ll speak about them if I want! You’re maniacal! Your hatred of religion is suffocating and completely unreasonable!”
“I’m only trying to protect you!” Uther says defensively.
“No, you’re forcing your views on me, raping my brain with your horrid, horrid thoughts!”
Uther stares at her in outrage, then grits his teeth and says dangerously, “Get out of my sight: you disgust me.”
Morgana stares at him, until her lower lip starts wobbling, at which stage she storms off. Arthur escapes the table as quickly as he can, and goes to her room, where he finds his adopted sister curled up on her bed sniffling, while angry rock music blasts from her stereo.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” He sighs as he sits beside her and wraps an arm around her shoulder.
“I don’t know, he just… he just makes me so angry! He’s ignorant, and close-minded, and, and…”
“And you were the same at one stage in your life,” Arthur says gently.
Morgana stills, hiccups, then nods and replies, “Yes, but I got over it! And I know he can too if he’d just let himself.”
“Maybe he will, but it will be in his own time. You can’t keep pushing him into it.”
Morgana giggles and says, “Since when did you get so wise?”
“Since Merlin.”
“You still like him?”
“Course I do, he’s my friend.”
“Not that way. Do you fancy him?”
“…Yeah…”
“Oh Arthur…”
“Oh nothing,” Arthur scoffs, and then adds wryly, “And by the way, did you have to talk about the brain raping again?”
“I knew it would get a reaction,” Morgana laughs, then sobs into Arthur’s shoulder.
“Morgana?” There’s a knock at her door, and Uther appears, his face twisted in apology.
Morgana stands up, arms outstretched, and Uther comes to her. Arthur leaves them as they embrace, ignoring the strange curl of his stomach at the sight, in favour of being happy that their fight didn’t last too long this time.
*****
(part 5)