NOTHING LIKE A GOOD GHOST HUNT: Part 2
TITLE: Nothing Like a Good Ghost Hunt
PAIRINGS: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwaine, Lancelot/Gwen, and hinted-at others.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~ 18k
SUMMARY: Merlin and his team are commissioned to investigate the hauntings at the famed Camelot Castle and get more than they bargained for when they find that the paranormal investigation team led by Arthur Pendragon has been commissioned to do the same.
NOTES: Written for Prompt #15 for merlin_horror fest.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
PART 1
Ten minutes passed in silence as well as darkness (Arthur had insisted that they conserve the batteries of their flashlights by switching them off), and Merlin wondered how long they would be able to go without talking before someone found them. He may have been a talker by nature (Will often accused him of verbal vomit, which was really quite unfair) but Merlin refused to be the one to break the silence.
Surprisingly, it was Arthur who first spoke. “So, are you one of those - what do you call them - intuitives, or something?”
Merlin found it interesting that Arthur had used the term “intuitive” and not “psychic”.
“I can sort of sense things, yeah,” Merlin said, feeling oddly vulnerable about opening up to Arthur Pendragon, his supposed rival. Arthur was a known sceptic and talking about being able to sense things that were paranormal would likely open him up to ridicule or at the very least earn him a laugh at his own expense.
“Morgana says she can sense things, too,” Arthur said unexpectedly.
“Like what?” Merlin asked before he realized he probably shouldn’t have. He and Arthur were on shaky truce grounds, after all.
“Paranormal stuff,” Arthur replied. “She’s not very specific.”
“Freya isn’t usually very specific about what she can sense either,” Merlin told him. “Not like me. I can be very specific. Like glowing artifacts-specific.”
Arthur huffed out a laugh. “You’re not still seeing those, are you?”
“No,” he replied. “But it doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
“Fair enough.”
“So how long do you think it’ll take them to find us?” Merlin asked.
“Probably not too much longer,” Arthur said and Merlin wondered if Arthur was just trying to placate him. “Think we could probably get away with a quick nap at any rate.”
Merlin chuckled. Though he hadn’t really been contemplating a nap, quick or otherwise, he found his eyes closing, and he told himself that a short doze would wile the time away more quickly.
He was holding a crystal in his hands, not the glowing amber one he remembered seeing nestled on top of the crates but the one that had been more opaque - and glowing - that was a bit larger, filling his hands. It was as though the crystal wanted Merlin to look into it - which was ridiculous because even Merlin understood that crystals were inanimate and couldn’t compel one do anything - but the urge to look was strong and he soon found himself staring into it.
The images began to form slowly. A hillside battle. The armour, shields, and swords hinted at the medieval period in which knights fought as soldiers. Bodies were everywhere, the death toll of the battle evidently high. Two soldiers, though, remained, now pitted against each other. One was dark and formidable and Merlin sensed a kind of power emanating from him. The other was blonde and golden, his skill as a warrior evident as he defended against and advanced upon the other soldier. His face wasn’t clear but he reminded Merlin of someone, someone he couldn’t quite place.
The golden warrior thrust his sword forward, catching the dark mage off-guard, the sword striking his midsection, plunging in. The golden warrior withdrew his sword, victorious, but collapsed to his knees, obviously exhausted from battle. The dark mage clutched his abdomen where the sword had pierced it, still standing but fading quickly toward death. He stretched out his hand, making one last attempt to fell the warrior...
Merlin heard himself screaming, “Arthur!”
The loud rattling of bars and the calling of his name woke him. Startled, Merlin looked around to gain his bearings. Nothing but darkness surrounded him and he remembered that he was on a job in Camelot Castle. They were in a vault somewhere underneath the castle and were waiting for Gwaine to find them.
Merlin saw two beams of light at the gate. He jumped to his feet, switching on his own flashlight, and rushed over to find Gwaine and Lance on the other side.
“Am I ever glad to see you,” he expressed. “We tumbled down some hidden passage and got dumped in here. Think it’s some kind of vault or something.”
“Where’s Pendragon?” Gwaine asked. He tucked his flashlight into the crook of his arm and started tracing the gate with his hands, looking for a way to unlock it.
“He’s just over--” Merlin answered, giving a look over his shoulder to where he and Arthur had settled and had obviously dozed off.
But Arthur wasn’t there.
Merlin called out to him but received no response. He darted around the vault, calling Arthur’s name, as Gwaine and Lance worked on breaking open the gate. Arthur had probably fallen asleep and perhaps he was a really sound sleeper. He looked against every wall, on top of and in between the crates but there was no sign of Arthur.
“Oh, that’s just great,” Merlin groused bitterly just as Gwaine was able to work the gate open. “The bastard must have found a way out while I was dozing and then just left me here to rot!”
Nonetheless, Merlin, Gwaine and Lance did a quick search of the vault, looking for Arthur, but Arthur was nowhere to be found - at least not within the confines of the vault. Satisfied that they had turned all stones, they headed back to the Great Hall.
“Where is he?” Merlin demanded as soon as they returned to the hub of their operation.
“Where’s who?” Morgana asked.
“Arthur.”
Morgana looked puzzled. “We thought he was with you,” she told him, motioning for Leon to join them. “It was Arthur’s voice Gwaine heard on his two-way.”
“Wait. He didn’t come back?”
Morgana shook her head. “We sent Gwaine and Lance to look for you two.” She looked from Gwaine to Lance to Merlin. “They obviously found you. So where’s my brother?”
Merlin let out a breath. He told Morgana and Leon how he and Arthur had tumbled down some hidden passageway and had landed in some kind of vault beneath the castle. They hadn’t been able to find a way out and had called for help using Merlin’s walkie talkie since Arthur’s headset hadn’t appeared to be working. He told her they must have dozed off while waiting and that he had been awoken by Gwaine and Lance pulling at the gate. And somehow during the time he was dozing, Arthur had disappeared.
“Disappeared?” Morgana commented, and Merlin could see her worry in the way her teeth were fraying her bottom lip. “Where could he have gone?” Her green eyes peered intensely at Merlin. “Did you come across anything unusual in the vault?”
“Well,” Merlin said, flicking a hand out in nonchalance. “At first there was all that glowing stuff and when I went to grab the trident so I could poke Arthur in the ribs with it to make a point, an orb came swooping down all screaming and badass then just disappeared. Does that count as unusual?”
Morgana, Gwaine and Leon were looking at him, their expressions ranging from mildly incredulous to outright stunned.
“Um, glowing stuff?”Leon questioned.
“Trident?” added Gwaine.
“Badass orb?” continued Morgana.
Merlin shrugged. He didn’t bother telling them about the vivid dream he had had about looking into the crystal and seeing Arthur - well, not Arthur Arthur but some version of Arthur or his ancestor - battling with some kind of dark sorcerer and not fairing too well. While he knew Gwaine and Lance would take it in stride, Merlin couldn’t be sure what Leon or Morgana’s reaction would be so he thought it best to keep it to himself for now.
“Well, glowing tridents are new,” Gwaine drawled, “but antagonizing badass orbs is pretty much par-for-the-course for Merlin.”
“I wasn’t antagonizing it,” Merlin argued and Gwaine just grinned.
“We should set up some cameras in the vault,” Leon suggested, going into investigation mode. "Maybe we’ll capture video of some glowing objects or, um, badass orbs.”
Morgana was nodding. “We’re already setting some up in the burial vaults,” she said, catching Merlin up to speed. “But we need to find Arthur.”
“Agreed,” Leon said. “Gwaine and I could start a search.”
But Morgana was shaking her head. “No, we need at least one of you to oversee the set up for security purposes,” she said and Merlin found he was impressed with the way Morgana Pendragon easily took the reins of leadership. “Leon can do that while Gwaine, Merlin and I look for Arthur.” She looked at Merlin. “That is, if you agree that’s the best way to do it.”
Merlin nodded. “Lance can take point for the BOO-Busters,” he said, appreciating that she had asked his opinion. Unlike her brother, Morgana was not a pompous arse.
Merlin and Morgana gave instructions to their teams about setting up equipment in various parts of the castle and then, with Gwaine in tow, they went in search of Arthur. They started in the west wing and made their way around to the north central wing, searching in rooms and alcoves and everywhere in between. Arthur had to be somewhere. He couldn’t have just vanished, right?
Merlin was ahead of Gwaine and Morgana in a stretch of corridor, his stomach rumbling loudly to remind him he hadn’t eaten since six o’clock that morning, and he idly wondered if he might suggest they take a food break before tackling the south wing. He looked back at them over his shoulder, the suggestion on his lips, as he rounded the slight bend in the hallway.
And ran smack into Arthur Pendragon.
“Arthur!” he exclaimed, stunned.
Arthur blinked at him. “Merlin?”
“Oh my god, Arthur!” Morgana said, rushing toward them. She grabbed Arthur’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “Where have you been?”
Arthur’s face pinched in confusion. Physically, Merlin noted, he looked fine. But he appeared slightly dazed, as if his thoughts were clouded over and he was trying to sort them out.
“I-I don’t know,” Arthur said. “I was in that vault with Merlin waiting to be found and I guess I must have dozed off for a bit. The next thing I remember is sitting at that table in the bedchamber.”
“What bedchamber?” Morgana asked. Merlin could see Gwaine already on the alert.
Arthur pointed toward a room down the corridor. “Just there.” Merlin glanced at Gwaine and Gwaine immediately jogged in that direction. Arthur’s face became pinched. “The weird thing is that the room is furnished like we’re on the set of some medieval film. And I thought that round table in the great hall was a bit much.”
Morgana darted a quick glance at Merlin as Gwaine called out to them, “Hey, come check this out.”
She pulled on the sleeve of Merlin’s hoodie to hold him back a little as the three went to join Gwaine. “Something’s not right with him,” Morgana whispered, gesturing toward Arthur’s back. Merlin raised an eyebrow. “My brother doesn’t use words like ‘bedchamber’,” Morgana explained and Merlin had to hold in a laugh. Surely, the use of a word like ‘bedchamber’ could not be grounds for thinking Arthur might be possessed? They were in a medieval castle, after all. But Morgana looked sufficiently concerned that Merlin thought it would probably be best to subject Arthur to Elena’s possession test, even if Arthur was likely to scoff and protest adamantly.
Arthur hadn’t been kidding when he said the ‘bedchamber’ looked like it was the set of some medieval film. There was a large poster bed with a gold and crimson coverlet, two ornate dressers, a dressing screen, and a 5th century (Merlin was guessing) desk complete with parchments, quills and a bottle of ink.
What the bloody fuck? was what Merlin was thinking and he was pretty sure Gwaine and Morgana were having the same thought.
“I’ll check out the other rooms in this corridor,” Gwaine said, nodding at Merlin and Morgana. “You should get Arthur back to the Great Hall and have Elena check him out.”
“Oh, does Elena have some medical training?” Morgana asked.
“Something like that,” Gwaine answered, darting a quick glance at Merlin. Merlin was sure Gwaine was itching to share something else but probably wanted to wait until they were alone before doing so.
“I’m fine,” Arthur insisted as Morgana steered him out of the chamber, Merlin following closely behind. “I don’t need some ghost chaser to practice hoodoo first aid on me.”
Gwaine chuckled loudly and Merlin smothered his own laugh behind his hand. Hoodoo first aid was not that far off, he thought, grinning.
“For the last time,” Arthur said impatiently, “I’m not possessed!”
“Of course you’re not, sweetie,” Elena said to him, tapping his cheek gently. “We’re just going to make absolutely sure, is all.” She continued trying to administer her series of ‘tests’.
Arthur huffed out a long-suffering sigh, giving Morgana and Merlin a look that clearly said he was angry and annoyed. Morgana simply shrugged at her brother while Merlin did his best to look smug.
“Merlin was in the vault with me,” Arthur pointed out. “How come you’re not checking to see if he’s possessed?”
“Because, silly,” Elena began to explain as though Arthur was a small child. “Merlin’s wearing his anti-possession amulet.”
Merlin reached a hand down his hoodie, pulling out the black obsidian dragon pendant he usually wore, and waggled it at Arthur. Arthur narrowed his blues eyes at Merlin, his mouth setting into a grim line. “Okay, I can see there’s no reasoning with you people. So let’s just get on with this then,” Arthur finally acquiesced. Merlin saw Elena’s face light up with child-like glee. She was always happiest when she was given rein to do her unique brand of psychic mojo.
When he returned to the Great Hall, Gwaine pulled Merlin and Morgana to the side.
“There are four rooms in that wing that have been visited by our resident medieval decorator, each with a bed at least,” he told them. He reached into his backpack to pull out something. “Look, I didn’t want to bring this up while we were all together earlier,” he nodded toward Arthur who was making a show of rolling his eyes as Elena held a crystal in front of his face, “but when I first checked out that room Arthur said he had come to in, I found this.” Gwaine held out what looked like a scroll of parchment paper.
Morgana took it and unrolled it, letting out a quiet gasp when she saw what was there. On the parchment, in black ink, had been written, “I, King Arthur, hereby declare...”
“Oh my god,” Morgana said, putting a hand to her mouth. “That’s Arthur’s handwriting.”
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked.
Morgana nodded. She looked over at her brother who was adamantly telling Elena that his sex life was none of her business and that he most certainly was going to be swearing if she kept asking him about it. “You think he’s possessed?”
Merlin considered for a moment. It did not seem that any of Elena’s tests were coming up positive and Arthur had shown none of the usual signs of possession - excessive swearing, speaking oddly, being overtly sexual, thrashing around, or sudden lashing out. Admittedly, he was bursting with emotion - mostly anger and annoyance - and his eyes were rolling back in his head - mostly out of exasperation - but those behaviours were to be expected. Merlin supposed being subjected to a gang of misfit ghost busters and all their awesomeness could do that to a man. “If Arthur was possessed,” he said finally, “I don’t think he is now.”
Gwaine nodded at Merlin. “You’re not sensing anything?”
Merlin shook his head. Then he looked at Morgana. “Are you?”
Morgana looked at him with surprise.
“Arthur told me you can sense things,” Merlin explained.
“I’m surprised,” she said with a laugh. “My brother thinks my sensing ability is a bunch of gobbly-gook.”
“Is that a technical term?” Gwaine teased.
“It’s an Arthur term,” Morgana replied, giving Gwaine a wink. If Merlin didn’t know any better, he would have thought he saw Gwaine blush.
Merlin sensed that there was something budding between his security expert and PPI’s co-leader. And he didn’t need his intuitive abilities for that.
Elena declared Arthur possession-free to which Arthur promptly responded with “Thank fuck for that!” then clapped a hand over his mouth when Elena narrowed her eyes at him, grumbling something that sounded like, “Doesn’t count.”
Leon and Lance caught Merlin, Arthur, Morgana and Gwaine up to speed on the teams’ activities which had involved setting up cameras in the burial crypt Will and Elyan had found and in the vault where Merlin had been accosted (Merlin preferred ‘startled’ but Will thought ‘accosted’ sounded tougher and he was probably right) by the orb.
After enjoying a quick meal from the stores they had brought (Merlin was famished and ended up eating three sandwiches with Elena cautioning him that he’d wind up with indigestion the way he was inhaling his food), it was decided that they would break up into shifts to observe the potential goings-on in the vaults and elsewhere in the castle. Rather than make camp in the Great Hall as they had originally planned, Gwaine made the suggestion that the teams make use of the furnished rooms in the north central wing to get some good shut-eye.
“Is it safe?” asked Freya. Merlin noticed Will moving closer to her in a protective gesture and watched Percy’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Think so,” Gwaine told her then grinned. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
Morgana, Freya, Elena and Gwen took one of the rooms while Gwaine, Will and Lance took another and Leon, Percy, and Elyan settled on taking a third. This, of course, left Merlin with Arthur, who said nothing as he staked a claim on the most stately of the rooms, the one he had ‘woken up’ in after disappearing from the vault.
Merlin had quite expected Arthur to take the sizeable bed while dismissively relegating Merlin to the floor, like he was some kind of servant, but he surprised Merlin by insisting that Merlin take the bed while he slept on the floor. Merlin might have accepted this as a grand gesture on Arthur’s part - or at least an attempt to extend an olive branch - but Arthur’s follow up comment that he was wary that the furniture would magically disappear as quickly as it had appeared revealed his true nature and intent.
After carefully laying out his floor bed, Arthur fiddled with his wristwatch, setting the alarm. “I’ll wake you when it’s our shift in the tombs,” he told Merlin, settling down on his sleeping bag, turning his back toward Merlin.
Merlin eyed the poster bed, debating whether it was really a good idea to lay down on it or whether it would be wiser to make camp on the floor like Arthur. He finally decided to go with the bed - mostly because it was the opposite of what Arthur had done and Merlin felt like he needed to make a statement. Or something like that. So he toed off his trainers and let them fall next to the bed as he laid down on top of the coverlet. Although it was cool and damp in the castle, Merlin was not keen on getting under the covers of the, admittedly soft and comfortable, ghost-bed and instead left his hoodie on to keep the night chills at bay. He had noticed that Arthur had taken both his boots and tactical vest off and Merlin absolutely did not notice how broad his shoulders were or how well-muscled his chest seemed in the snug-fitting black t-shirt.
Merlin closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep. The events of the day had been unsettling and not just because he had fallen into a vault where there were oddly glowing artifacts and a screaming orb, a vault in which they could find no way out of but Arthur had disappeared from nonetheless. Even more unsettling was the fact that it seemed Arthur had written words on a parchment scroll that he had no recollection of and had not appeared to be possessed, though he might well have been at the time of making declarations in the name of his ancestor and probable namesake. Merlin darted a glance at the desk opposite the dormant fireplace and shivered. Freakin’ medieval ghosts.
Merlin judged that he couldn’t have been asleep for more than five minutes when he became aware of a weight on top of him. He lifted heavy eyelids open and found Arthur stretched on top of him, his naked body pressed intimately against Merlin’s, his mouth exploring Merlin’s lips and neck. Soft moans broke the quietness and, while at first Merlin thought the moans were coming from Arthur, he soon realized the sounds were spilling from his own lips as Arthur moved from kissing his neck to licking and sucking on his shoulders and collarbone.
Arthur lifted his body up to move further down Merlin’s body, trailing a path with his tongue, nipping lightly at his flesh. Arthur’s blue eyes peeked up at him from under his eyelashes and Merlin was struck by how surreally beautiful and ethereal he looked in the firelight. When had the fireplace been lit? Merlin vaguely wondered. He felt heady with arousal, his body aching with unbridled lust. Merlin fisted Arthur’s hair and arched up in anticipation, letting out a gasp when Arthur took the head of his cock into his mouth and sucked.
Arthur’s mouth on him was intoxicating. It was both too much and not enough and Merlin was torn between wanting to shove his cock further into and coming down Arthur’s throat and needing to hold off the impending crescendo in hopes of capturing a much better prize.
But Arthur decided for him, suddenly pulling his mouth off with a pop, and settling between Merlin’s thighs. He lifted Merlin’s legs up and back, exposing the tight ring of muscle hidden between his cheeks. Arthur licked at his hole then pushed his tongue in, causing Merlin to arch his hips up from the bed. He groaned freely as Arthur tongued his hole, attempting to loosen the muscle and lubricate the passage. Merlin let his head fall back as Arthur went about preparing him, his breathing a mixture of lustful gasps and raspy moans.
Arthur took his cock in hand and rubbed it over Merlin’s entrance, nudging the head at the spit-moistened hole. Merlin whispered encouragement, lust-addled and needy. It didn’t matter that Arthur was a right prat whom Merlin barely knew or that they were taking a careless risk by not using protection. Merlin wanted Arthur deep inside him. He would not feel whole - would never feel whole - until that happened.
The initial pain of Arthur’s intrusion gave way to pleasure more quickly than it had ever had, reinforcing Merlin’s belief that this was right - that their lovemaking was right. Arthur thrust strongly and deeply, drawing out sharp moans from Merlin. Arthur was buried fully inside him but it still wasn’t enough for Merlin so he canted his hips upward and met Arthur’s thrusts with his own frantic ones, needing to feel Arthur even deeper inside him.
Merlin could see Arthur’s face through the lust haze that surrounded them and knew it must mirror his own - cheeks flushed red, beads of sweat on his temples and upper lip, jaw hanging open, eyes wild with desire, pupils blown wide. Seeing Arthur so utterly wrecked like that, it took everything in Merlin’s power to stave off the building climax, and it wasn’t until Arthur hit his peak and erupted that Merlin allowed himself to do the same, crying out “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!” as he shot warm stickiness all over his chest. He felt Arthur judder as the orgasm washed through him and then abated, his body collapsing on top of Merlin as he came crashing down from the high.
When Merlin awoke, he was aware of three very important things. First, he was fully clothed, the only part of his attire missing were his trainers which he had taken off and set by the bed before laying down on the coverlet. Second, although he could only make out a form in the darkness, it was clear that Arthur was asleep on the floor, still a good ten metres away from the bed. And third, there was definitely no fire in the fireplace; it looked as dormant as it had when Merlin had fallen asleep.
Had it all been just a dream?
Merlin tried to shake the vivid images of the dream from his head. But it wasn’t just the images that plagued him. It was the feeling of intimacy he had shared with Arthur, an intimacy that had felt so very right.
His body was still tingling with the physical and emotional feelings that had been stirred by the sex dream when Merlin finally fell back asleep.
When Arthur woke him for their shift in the burial vault, Merlin had to pretty much drag himself from sleep. His mind felt unbelievably heavy and clouded. And his body ached all over, like he’d been in a fierce battle with an army of ghosts or like he was coming off of a night full of wild and rough sex.
Oh, crap.
He glanced at Arthur who was already packed up and back into investigator’s mode, no visible trace of having spent the last few hours engaging in wild dream sex. Merlin released a quiet sigh. At least he’d be spared some embarrassment and only have to deal with the awkwardness of looking at Arthur and remembering how good he had felt inside him.
In the burial crypts, Will and Percy were readjusting the camera equipment and recorders.
“Anything happen the last shift?” Arthur asked and Percy shook his head.
“Dead silent,” Will said then grinned. Merlin knew Will lived for opportunities to make bad puns.
Arthur rolled his eyes and joined Percy, asking for a rundown of the shift Elena and Leon had just completed. Merlin flopped down on the cold floor next to Will who had his back resting against one of the old crypts. If there was anything to tell, Will would have already spilled it.
The first two hours of their shift passed in relative silence with the occasional grunt of acknowledgement between the four of them. Merlin expressly avoided speaking to or even looking at Arthur, the images from the dream still very vivid. A couple of times, Merlin thought he had caught Arthur looking at him, but the crypt was lit so dimly and the looks passed so quickly that Merlin couldn’t be sure he had seen anything. He resolved to focusing his attention anywhere in the crypt but on Arthur (who was distracting even by just sitting there) and tried to hone his intuitive abilities in hopes of sensing some paranormal activity. It was a bloody crypt full of dead people, after all.
A half hour later, Merlin rolled out the kinks in his neck and was about to call their watch a dud and suggest they pack it in when all of a sudden things started to happen in a very big way.
A staff appeared in the middle of the crypt, stuck into the stone of the floor, its head formed by gnarly tree-like branches. It was one of the staffs Merlin had seen glowing in the vault. Almost as soon as it appeared, the staff-head lit up and shot beams of light across the crypt. All four men jumped to their feet, Will and Percy grabbing their cameras.
“What the hell?” Will said as a dozen or so skeletal apparitions began to emerge from the light beams, screeching as they swooped down around them.
“Percy, you getting this?” Arthur yelled out to his camera man, trying to shield himself from the screeching skeletons that were swooping down on him.
A group of skeleton ghosts locked onto Percy who was filming steadfastly and rushed at him, the force of their power knocking Percy, who was a very large man, off his feet and into the nearest wall. Merlin watched as the big man slid down the wall and slumped at the base. This was Merlin and Will’s cue to seek refuge. Will scrambled behind one tomb, letting his camera peek out around it, and Merlin dove behind another, his mind racing to come up with a plan to deal with these skeleton ghosts. In all their years of ghost-hunting, they had never come across ghosts that were actual skeletons.
It was only when he peeked around the stone box that Merlin realized Arthur hadn’t sought refuge like he and Will had. This was because he hadn’t been able to. With Percy, Will and Merlin out of the way, most of the skeleton ghosts had focused their attention on Arthur and were now surrounding him. He watched Arthur bat at them ineffectually and wanted to shout out that batting at ghosts was only likely to piss them off more (really, what kind of ghost hunter was Arthur Pendragon if he didn’t already know that?) but Merlin did not want to risk calling attention to himself lest the boney bunch decide to switch focus so he simply rolled his eyes instead.
The ghosts had Arthur pinned to the floor of the crypt, hovering all around him, shrieking so loud it made Merlin’s ears hurt. He thought he heard Arthur calling out to him, but it was difficult to hear anything beyond the high-pitched shrieks. Merlin knew he had to do something to help Arthur but he really didn’t know what. Skeleton ghosts were another first this job had brought.
Like he usually did, Merlin acted on instinct. He got up and moved out from behind the tomb. His legs felt like jelly and were shaking badly but he tried to cast his fears aside as he made his way toward Arthur, instinctually yelling out things in the hope that it would drive the skeleton ghosts away.
“Astrice!...Flieh on nu moras!...Awendap eft wansaelega neat!.. Forp fleoge!”
The words seemed to have little effect at first as they were most likely being drowned out by the loud shrieks. Merlin repeated them over and over until the ghosts finally took notice and started to withdraw their attack on Arthur, either retreating voluntarily or being effectively cast away. Merlin was able to drive away the few hardy ones that remained with a strong and loud, “Ablinn du, forlaet du nu!”
Skeleton ghosts now gone, he turned to Arthur, extending his hand to help him up and was not surprised to see Arthur looking at him like he had sprouted a unicorn horn on each of his two heads. It was the usual reaction to Merlin’s what-the-bloody-fuck-is-that-language-speak so he wasn’t really offended. Much.
Arthur took the offered hand and let Merlin haul him to his feet. He gave Merlin a puzzled look and then rushed over to the slumped form of Percy. Merlin understood that Percy’s well-being was a priority and that, as team leader, Arthur was responsible for the safety of his team members and it wasn’t like he had been expecting Arthur to present a thank you banner or anything, but a quietly murmured “thanks” for saving Arthur’s arse from a bunch of skeleton ghosts would have been nice.
Percy was conscious, and Merlin helped Arthur get Percy to his feet while Will gathered up the cameras and equipment. They made their way to the Great Hall, Arthur offering support to Percy who was a little unsteady on his feet but otherwise okay, and Merlin helping Will carry the equipment.
They had a story to tell the rest of the group at least.
“What do you mean, there’s no useable footage?” Arthur said in disbelief.
“There’s nothing. Nada. Zero. Ziltch,” Will responded, and Merlin was sure Arthur was going to blow his top. “The camera was damaged when those skeleton ghost bastards flung Percy into the wall and we can’t seem to retrieve any of the data from it.”
“What about your camera?” Arthur demanded. “Or did you forget to push play while you were hiding behind that tomb like a scared little girl?”
Will’s face turned red with rage. “Fuck you, Pendragon!” he yelled and Gwaine quickly restrained him before he could land a punch to Arthur’s face.
“Arthur!” Morgana scolded sternly and Merlin followed with an angrily indignant, “Will knows how to do his job, you prick!”
“Look,” Lance interjected, trying to infuse calm into the otherwise ready-to-blow situation. “We’ve gone over the video and sound recordings from both sets of equipment. Both Percy and Will did their jobs. There just isn’t anything there. All the video is scrambled and the sound recordings are nothing but white noise.”
“How is that possible?” Arthur wanted to know. “There were moving spectres. There was fucking EVP.” Merlin supposed swooping and shrieking skeleton ghosts counted as moving spectres and electronic voice patterns.
Lance shrugged. “What can I say? Your ghosts must have screwed with the audio and visual,” he said.
Lance rejoined Gwen at the Round Table where they resumed looking at the data from the other cameras that had been set up in the treasure vault. Merlin noticed that the two of them were sitting close, their heads bent together, their conversation whispered. Any other time, he would delight in being happy for his friend and what appeared to be a budding relationship, but Merlin was too busy being monumentally pissed off at Arthur at the moment that he couldn’t even feel a nugget of happiness for Lance and Gwen.
Merlin rounded on Arthur, ready to give him a piece of his mind, but something in Arthur’s expression stopped him from venting full out. He could still see the exasperation etched there but there was something soft, too, almost as though Arthur was issuing an unspoken apology. There was something else there, as well, something Merlin didn’t trust himself to believe. It was want, desire. He had seen it in Arthur’s face in his dreams, had sensed it in Arthur’s body language and had felt it in the way Arthur touched him. Merlin could feel it now even though they were both wide awake.
So instead of giving Arthur the chewing out he deserved, what Merlin ended up saying was, “You’re such a jerk!” Then he turned heel and quickly exited the Great Hall before the feelings stirred by the dream became rather embarrassingly apparent.
PART 3
PAIRINGS: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwaine, Lancelot/Gwen, and hinted-at others.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~ 18k
SUMMARY: Merlin and his team are commissioned to investigate the hauntings at the famed Camelot Castle and get more than they bargained for when they find that the paranormal investigation team led by Arthur Pendragon has been commissioned to do the same.
NOTES: Written for Prompt #15 for merlin_horror fest.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
PART 1
Ten minutes passed in silence as well as darkness (Arthur had insisted that they conserve the batteries of their flashlights by switching them off), and Merlin wondered how long they would be able to go without talking before someone found them. He may have been a talker by nature (Will often accused him of verbal vomit, which was really quite unfair) but Merlin refused to be the one to break the silence.
Surprisingly, it was Arthur who first spoke. “So, are you one of those - what do you call them - intuitives, or something?”
Merlin found it interesting that Arthur had used the term “intuitive” and not “psychic”.
“I can sort of sense things, yeah,” Merlin said, feeling oddly vulnerable about opening up to Arthur Pendragon, his supposed rival. Arthur was a known sceptic and talking about being able to sense things that were paranormal would likely open him up to ridicule or at the very least earn him a laugh at his own expense.
“Morgana says she can sense things, too,” Arthur said unexpectedly.
“Like what?” Merlin asked before he realized he probably shouldn’t have. He and Arthur were on shaky truce grounds, after all.
“Paranormal stuff,” Arthur replied. “She’s not very specific.”
“Freya isn’t usually very specific about what she can sense either,” Merlin told him. “Not like me. I can be very specific. Like glowing artifacts-specific.”
Arthur huffed out a laugh. “You’re not still seeing those, are you?”
“No,” he replied. “But it doesn’t mean they’re not there.”
“Fair enough.”
“So how long do you think it’ll take them to find us?” Merlin asked.
“Probably not too much longer,” Arthur said and Merlin wondered if Arthur was just trying to placate him. “Think we could probably get away with a quick nap at any rate.”
Merlin chuckled. Though he hadn’t really been contemplating a nap, quick or otherwise, he found his eyes closing, and he told himself that a short doze would wile the time away more quickly.
He was holding a crystal in his hands, not the glowing amber one he remembered seeing nestled on top of the crates but the one that had been more opaque - and glowing - that was a bit larger, filling his hands. It was as though the crystal wanted Merlin to look into it - which was ridiculous because even Merlin understood that crystals were inanimate and couldn’t compel one do anything - but the urge to look was strong and he soon found himself staring into it.
The images began to form slowly. A hillside battle. The armour, shields, and swords hinted at the medieval period in which knights fought as soldiers. Bodies were everywhere, the death toll of the battle evidently high. Two soldiers, though, remained, now pitted against each other. One was dark and formidable and Merlin sensed a kind of power emanating from him. The other was blonde and golden, his skill as a warrior evident as he defended against and advanced upon the other soldier. His face wasn’t clear but he reminded Merlin of someone, someone he couldn’t quite place.
The golden warrior thrust his sword forward, catching the dark mage off-guard, the sword striking his midsection, plunging in. The golden warrior withdrew his sword, victorious, but collapsed to his knees, obviously exhausted from battle. The dark mage clutched his abdomen where the sword had pierced it, still standing but fading quickly toward death. He stretched out his hand, making one last attempt to fell the warrior...
Merlin heard himself screaming, “Arthur!”
The loud rattling of bars and the calling of his name woke him. Startled, Merlin looked around to gain his bearings. Nothing but darkness surrounded him and he remembered that he was on a job in Camelot Castle. They were in a vault somewhere underneath the castle and were waiting for Gwaine to find them.
Merlin saw two beams of light at the gate. He jumped to his feet, switching on his own flashlight, and rushed over to find Gwaine and Lance on the other side.
“Am I ever glad to see you,” he expressed. “We tumbled down some hidden passage and got dumped in here. Think it’s some kind of vault or something.”
“Where’s Pendragon?” Gwaine asked. He tucked his flashlight into the crook of his arm and started tracing the gate with his hands, looking for a way to unlock it.
“He’s just over--” Merlin answered, giving a look over his shoulder to where he and Arthur had settled and had obviously dozed off.
But Arthur wasn’t there.
Merlin called out to him but received no response. He darted around the vault, calling Arthur’s name, as Gwaine and Lance worked on breaking open the gate. Arthur had probably fallen asleep and perhaps he was a really sound sleeper. He looked against every wall, on top of and in between the crates but there was no sign of Arthur.
“Oh, that’s just great,” Merlin groused bitterly just as Gwaine was able to work the gate open. “The bastard must have found a way out while I was dozing and then just left me here to rot!”
Nonetheless, Merlin, Gwaine and Lance did a quick search of the vault, looking for Arthur, but Arthur was nowhere to be found - at least not within the confines of the vault. Satisfied that they had turned all stones, they headed back to the Great Hall.
“Where is he?” Merlin demanded as soon as they returned to the hub of their operation.
“Where’s who?” Morgana asked.
“Arthur.”
Morgana looked puzzled. “We thought he was with you,” she told him, motioning for Leon to join them. “It was Arthur’s voice Gwaine heard on his two-way.”
“Wait. He didn’t come back?”
Morgana shook her head. “We sent Gwaine and Lance to look for you two.” She looked from Gwaine to Lance to Merlin. “They obviously found you. So where’s my brother?”
Merlin let out a breath. He told Morgana and Leon how he and Arthur had tumbled down some hidden passageway and had landed in some kind of vault beneath the castle. They hadn’t been able to find a way out and had called for help using Merlin’s walkie talkie since Arthur’s headset hadn’t appeared to be working. He told her they must have dozed off while waiting and that he had been awoken by Gwaine and Lance pulling at the gate. And somehow during the time he was dozing, Arthur had disappeared.
“Disappeared?” Morgana commented, and Merlin could see her worry in the way her teeth were fraying her bottom lip. “Where could he have gone?” Her green eyes peered intensely at Merlin. “Did you come across anything unusual in the vault?”
“Well,” Merlin said, flicking a hand out in nonchalance. “At first there was all that glowing stuff and when I went to grab the trident so I could poke Arthur in the ribs with it to make a point, an orb came swooping down all screaming and badass then just disappeared. Does that count as unusual?”
Morgana, Gwaine and Leon were looking at him, their expressions ranging from mildly incredulous to outright stunned.
“Um, glowing stuff?”Leon questioned.
“Trident?” added Gwaine.
“Badass orb?” continued Morgana.
Merlin shrugged. He didn’t bother telling them about the vivid dream he had had about looking into the crystal and seeing Arthur - well, not Arthur Arthur but some version of Arthur or his ancestor - battling with some kind of dark sorcerer and not fairing too well. While he knew Gwaine and Lance would take it in stride, Merlin couldn’t be sure what Leon or Morgana’s reaction would be so he thought it best to keep it to himself for now.
“Well, glowing tridents are new,” Gwaine drawled, “but antagonizing badass orbs is pretty much par-for-the-course for Merlin.”
“I wasn’t antagonizing it,” Merlin argued and Gwaine just grinned.
“We should set up some cameras in the vault,” Leon suggested, going into investigation mode. "Maybe we’ll capture video of some glowing objects or, um, badass orbs.”
Morgana was nodding. “We’re already setting some up in the burial vaults,” she said, catching Merlin up to speed. “But we need to find Arthur.”
“Agreed,” Leon said. “Gwaine and I could start a search.”
But Morgana was shaking her head. “No, we need at least one of you to oversee the set up for security purposes,” she said and Merlin found he was impressed with the way Morgana Pendragon easily took the reins of leadership. “Leon can do that while Gwaine, Merlin and I look for Arthur.” She looked at Merlin. “That is, if you agree that’s the best way to do it.”
Merlin nodded. “Lance can take point for the BOO-Busters,” he said, appreciating that she had asked his opinion. Unlike her brother, Morgana was not a pompous arse.
Merlin and Morgana gave instructions to their teams about setting up equipment in various parts of the castle and then, with Gwaine in tow, they went in search of Arthur. They started in the west wing and made their way around to the north central wing, searching in rooms and alcoves and everywhere in between. Arthur had to be somewhere. He couldn’t have just vanished, right?
Merlin was ahead of Gwaine and Morgana in a stretch of corridor, his stomach rumbling loudly to remind him he hadn’t eaten since six o’clock that morning, and he idly wondered if he might suggest they take a food break before tackling the south wing. He looked back at them over his shoulder, the suggestion on his lips, as he rounded the slight bend in the hallway.
And ran smack into Arthur Pendragon.
“Arthur!” he exclaimed, stunned.
Arthur blinked at him. “Merlin?”
“Oh my god, Arthur!” Morgana said, rushing toward them. She grabbed Arthur’s shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. “Where have you been?”
Arthur’s face pinched in confusion. Physically, Merlin noted, he looked fine. But he appeared slightly dazed, as if his thoughts were clouded over and he was trying to sort them out.
“I-I don’t know,” Arthur said. “I was in that vault with Merlin waiting to be found and I guess I must have dozed off for a bit. The next thing I remember is sitting at that table in the bedchamber.”
“What bedchamber?” Morgana asked. Merlin could see Gwaine already on the alert.
Arthur pointed toward a room down the corridor. “Just there.” Merlin glanced at Gwaine and Gwaine immediately jogged in that direction. Arthur’s face became pinched. “The weird thing is that the room is furnished like we’re on the set of some medieval film. And I thought that round table in the great hall was a bit much.”
Morgana darted a quick glance at Merlin as Gwaine called out to them, “Hey, come check this out.”
She pulled on the sleeve of Merlin’s hoodie to hold him back a little as the three went to join Gwaine. “Something’s not right with him,” Morgana whispered, gesturing toward Arthur’s back. Merlin raised an eyebrow. “My brother doesn’t use words like ‘bedchamber’,” Morgana explained and Merlin had to hold in a laugh. Surely, the use of a word like ‘bedchamber’ could not be grounds for thinking Arthur might be possessed? They were in a medieval castle, after all. But Morgana looked sufficiently concerned that Merlin thought it would probably be best to subject Arthur to Elena’s possession test, even if Arthur was likely to scoff and protest adamantly.
Arthur hadn’t been kidding when he said the ‘bedchamber’ looked like it was the set of some medieval film. There was a large poster bed with a gold and crimson coverlet, two ornate dressers, a dressing screen, and a 5th century (Merlin was guessing) desk complete with parchments, quills and a bottle of ink.
What the bloody fuck? was what Merlin was thinking and he was pretty sure Gwaine and Morgana were having the same thought.
“I’ll check out the other rooms in this corridor,” Gwaine said, nodding at Merlin and Morgana. “You should get Arthur back to the Great Hall and have Elena check him out.”
“Oh, does Elena have some medical training?” Morgana asked.
“Something like that,” Gwaine answered, darting a quick glance at Merlin. Merlin was sure Gwaine was itching to share something else but probably wanted to wait until they were alone before doing so.
“I’m fine,” Arthur insisted as Morgana steered him out of the chamber, Merlin following closely behind. “I don’t need some ghost chaser to practice hoodoo first aid on me.”
Gwaine chuckled loudly and Merlin smothered his own laugh behind his hand. Hoodoo first aid was not that far off, he thought, grinning.
“For the last time,” Arthur said impatiently, “I’m not possessed!”
“Of course you’re not, sweetie,” Elena said to him, tapping his cheek gently. “We’re just going to make absolutely sure, is all.” She continued trying to administer her series of ‘tests’.
Arthur huffed out a long-suffering sigh, giving Morgana and Merlin a look that clearly said he was angry and annoyed. Morgana simply shrugged at her brother while Merlin did his best to look smug.
“Merlin was in the vault with me,” Arthur pointed out. “How come you’re not checking to see if he’s possessed?”
“Because, silly,” Elena began to explain as though Arthur was a small child. “Merlin’s wearing his anti-possession amulet.”
Merlin reached a hand down his hoodie, pulling out the black obsidian dragon pendant he usually wore, and waggled it at Arthur. Arthur narrowed his blues eyes at Merlin, his mouth setting into a grim line. “Okay, I can see there’s no reasoning with you people. So let’s just get on with this then,” Arthur finally acquiesced. Merlin saw Elena’s face light up with child-like glee. She was always happiest when she was given rein to do her unique brand of psychic mojo.
When he returned to the Great Hall, Gwaine pulled Merlin and Morgana to the side.
“There are four rooms in that wing that have been visited by our resident medieval decorator, each with a bed at least,” he told them. He reached into his backpack to pull out something. “Look, I didn’t want to bring this up while we were all together earlier,” he nodded toward Arthur who was making a show of rolling his eyes as Elena held a crystal in front of his face, “but when I first checked out that room Arthur said he had come to in, I found this.” Gwaine held out what looked like a scroll of parchment paper.
Morgana took it and unrolled it, letting out a quiet gasp when she saw what was there. On the parchment, in black ink, had been written, “I, King Arthur, hereby declare...”
“Oh my god,” Morgana said, putting a hand to her mouth. “That’s Arthur’s handwriting.”
“Are you sure?” Merlin asked.
Morgana nodded. She looked over at her brother who was adamantly telling Elena that his sex life was none of her business and that he most certainly was going to be swearing if she kept asking him about it. “You think he’s possessed?”
Merlin considered for a moment. It did not seem that any of Elena’s tests were coming up positive and Arthur had shown none of the usual signs of possession - excessive swearing, speaking oddly, being overtly sexual, thrashing around, or sudden lashing out. Admittedly, he was bursting with emotion - mostly anger and annoyance - and his eyes were rolling back in his head - mostly out of exasperation - but those behaviours were to be expected. Merlin supposed being subjected to a gang of misfit ghost busters and all their awesomeness could do that to a man. “If Arthur was possessed,” he said finally, “I don’t think he is now.”
Gwaine nodded at Merlin. “You’re not sensing anything?”
Merlin shook his head. Then he looked at Morgana. “Are you?”
Morgana looked at him with surprise.
“Arthur told me you can sense things,” Merlin explained.
“I’m surprised,” she said with a laugh. “My brother thinks my sensing ability is a bunch of gobbly-gook.”
“Is that a technical term?” Gwaine teased.
“It’s an Arthur term,” Morgana replied, giving Gwaine a wink. If Merlin didn’t know any better, he would have thought he saw Gwaine blush.
Merlin sensed that there was something budding between his security expert and PPI’s co-leader. And he didn’t need his intuitive abilities for that.
Elena declared Arthur possession-free to which Arthur promptly responded with “Thank fuck for that!” then clapped a hand over his mouth when Elena narrowed her eyes at him, grumbling something that sounded like, “Doesn’t count.”
Leon and Lance caught Merlin, Arthur, Morgana and Gwaine up to speed on the teams’ activities which had involved setting up cameras in the burial crypt Will and Elyan had found and in the vault where Merlin had been accosted (Merlin preferred ‘startled’ but Will thought ‘accosted’ sounded tougher and he was probably right) by the orb.
After enjoying a quick meal from the stores they had brought (Merlin was famished and ended up eating three sandwiches with Elena cautioning him that he’d wind up with indigestion the way he was inhaling his food), it was decided that they would break up into shifts to observe the potential goings-on in the vaults and elsewhere in the castle. Rather than make camp in the Great Hall as they had originally planned, Gwaine made the suggestion that the teams make use of the furnished rooms in the north central wing to get some good shut-eye.
“Is it safe?” asked Freya. Merlin noticed Will moving closer to her in a protective gesture and watched Percy’s eyebrows shoot up.
“Think so,” Gwaine told her then grinned. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
Morgana, Freya, Elena and Gwen took one of the rooms while Gwaine, Will and Lance took another and Leon, Percy, and Elyan settled on taking a third. This, of course, left Merlin with Arthur, who said nothing as he staked a claim on the most stately of the rooms, the one he had ‘woken up’ in after disappearing from the vault.
Merlin had quite expected Arthur to take the sizeable bed while dismissively relegating Merlin to the floor, like he was some kind of servant, but he surprised Merlin by insisting that Merlin take the bed while he slept on the floor. Merlin might have accepted this as a grand gesture on Arthur’s part - or at least an attempt to extend an olive branch - but Arthur’s follow up comment that he was wary that the furniture would magically disappear as quickly as it had appeared revealed his true nature and intent.
After carefully laying out his floor bed, Arthur fiddled with his wristwatch, setting the alarm. “I’ll wake you when it’s our shift in the tombs,” he told Merlin, settling down on his sleeping bag, turning his back toward Merlin.
Merlin eyed the poster bed, debating whether it was really a good idea to lay down on it or whether it would be wiser to make camp on the floor like Arthur. He finally decided to go with the bed - mostly because it was the opposite of what Arthur had done and Merlin felt like he needed to make a statement. Or something like that. So he toed off his trainers and let them fall next to the bed as he laid down on top of the coverlet. Although it was cool and damp in the castle, Merlin was not keen on getting under the covers of the, admittedly soft and comfortable, ghost-bed and instead left his hoodie on to keep the night chills at bay. He had noticed that Arthur had taken both his boots and tactical vest off and Merlin absolutely did not notice how broad his shoulders were or how well-muscled his chest seemed in the snug-fitting black t-shirt.
Merlin closed his eyes, determined to get some sleep. The events of the day had been unsettling and not just because he had fallen into a vault where there were oddly glowing artifacts and a screaming orb, a vault in which they could find no way out of but Arthur had disappeared from nonetheless. Even more unsettling was the fact that it seemed Arthur had written words on a parchment scroll that he had no recollection of and had not appeared to be possessed, though he might well have been at the time of making declarations in the name of his ancestor and probable namesake. Merlin darted a glance at the desk opposite the dormant fireplace and shivered. Freakin’ medieval ghosts.
Merlin judged that he couldn’t have been asleep for more than five minutes when he became aware of a weight on top of him. He lifted heavy eyelids open and found Arthur stretched on top of him, his naked body pressed intimately against Merlin’s, his mouth exploring Merlin’s lips and neck. Soft moans broke the quietness and, while at first Merlin thought the moans were coming from Arthur, he soon realized the sounds were spilling from his own lips as Arthur moved from kissing his neck to licking and sucking on his shoulders and collarbone.
Arthur lifted his body up to move further down Merlin’s body, trailing a path with his tongue, nipping lightly at his flesh. Arthur’s blue eyes peeked up at him from under his eyelashes and Merlin was struck by how surreally beautiful and ethereal he looked in the firelight. When had the fireplace been lit? Merlin vaguely wondered. He felt heady with arousal, his body aching with unbridled lust. Merlin fisted Arthur’s hair and arched up in anticipation, letting out a gasp when Arthur took the head of his cock into his mouth and sucked.
Arthur’s mouth on him was intoxicating. It was both too much and not enough and Merlin was torn between wanting to shove his cock further into and coming down Arthur’s throat and needing to hold off the impending crescendo in hopes of capturing a much better prize.
But Arthur decided for him, suddenly pulling his mouth off with a pop, and settling between Merlin’s thighs. He lifted Merlin’s legs up and back, exposing the tight ring of muscle hidden between his cheeks. Arthur licked at his hole then pushed his tongue in, causing Merlin to arch his hips up from the bed. He groaned freely as Arthur tongued his hole, attempting to loosen the muscle and lubricate the passage. Merlin let his head fall back as Arthur went about preparing him, his breathing a mixture of lustful gasps and raspy moans.
Arthur took his cock in hand and rubbed it over Merlin’s entrance, nudging the head at the spit-moistened hole. Merlin whispered encouragement, lust-addled and needy. It didn’t matter that Arthur was a right prat whom Merlin barely knew or that they were taking a careless risk by not using protection. Merlin wanted Arthur deep inside him. He would not feel whole - would never feel whole - until that happened.
The initial pain of Arthur’s intrusion gave way to pleasure more quickly than it had ever had, reinforcing Merlin’s belief that this was right - that their lovemaking was right. Arthur thrust strongly and deeply, drawing out sharp moans from Merlin. Arthur was buried fully inside him but it still wasn’t enough for Merlin so he canted his hips upward and met Arthur’s thrusts with his own frantic ones, needing to feel Arthur even deeper inside him.
Merlin could see Arthur’s face through the lust haze that surrounded them and knew it must mirror his own - cheeks flushed red, beads of sweat on his temples and upper lip, jaw hanging open, eyes wild with desire, pupils blown wide. Seeing Arthur so utterly wrecked like that, it took everything in Merlin’s power to stave off the building climax, and it wasn’t until Arthur hit his peak and erupted that Merlin allowed himself to do the same, crying out “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur!” as he shot warm stickiness all over his chest. He felt Arthur judder as the orgasm washed through him and then abated, his body collapsing on top of Merlin as he came crashing down from the high.
When Merlin awoke, he was aware of three very important things. First, he was fully clothed, the only part of his attire missing were his trainers which he had taken off and set by the bed before laying down on the coverlet. Second, although he could only make out a form in the darkness, it was clear that Arthur was asleep on the floor, still a good ten metres away from the bed. And third, there was definitely no fire in the fireplace; it looked as dormant as it had when Merlin had fallen asleep.
Had it all been just a dream?
Merlin tried to shake the vivid images of the dream from his head. But it wasn’t just the images that plagued him. It was the feeling of intimacy he had shared with Arthur, an intimacy that had felt so very right.
His body was still tingling with the physical and emotional feelings that had been stirred by the sex dream when Merlin finally fell back asleep.
When Arthur woke him for their shift in the burial vault, Merlin had to pretty much drag himself from sleep. His mind felt unbelievably heavy and clouded. And his body ached all over, like he’d been in a fierce battle with an army of ghosts or like he was coming off of a night full of wild and rough sex.
Oh, crap.
He glanced at Arthur who was already packed up and back into investigator’s mode, no visible trace of having spent the last few hours engaging in wild dream sex. Merlin released a quiet sigh. At least he’d be spared some embarrassment and only have to deal with the awkwardness of looking at Arthur and remembering how good he had felt inside him.
In the burial crypts, Will and Percy were readjusting the camera equipment and recorders.
“Anything happen the last shift?” Arthur asked and Percy shook his head.
“Dead silent,” Will said then grinned. Merlin knew Will lived for opportunities to make bad puns.
Arthur rolled his eyes and joined Percy, asking for a rundown of the shift Elena and Leon had just completed. Merlin flopped down on the cold floor next to Will who had his back resting against one of the old crypts. If there was anything to tell, Will would have already spilled it.
The first two hours of their shift passed in relative silence with the occasional grunt of acknowledgement between the four of them. Merlin expressly avoided speaking to or even looking at Arthur, the images from the dream still very vivid. A couple of times, Merlin thought he had caught Arthur looking at him, but the crypt was lit so dimly and the looks passed so quickly that Merlin couldn’t be sure he had seen anything. He resolved to focusing his attention anywhere in the crypt but on Arthur (who was distracting even by just sitting there) and tried to hone his intuitive abilities in hopes of sensing some paranormal activity. It was a bloody crypt full of dead people, after all.
A half hour later, Merlin rolled out the kinks in his neck and was about to call their watch a dud and suggest they pack it in when all of a sudden things started to happen in a very big way.
A staff appeared in the middle of the crypt, stuck into the stone of the floor, its head formed by gnarly tree-like branches. It was one of the staffs Merlin had seen glowing in the vault. Almost as soon as it appeared, the staff-head lit up and shot beams of light across the crypt. All four men jumped to their feet, Will and Percy grabbing their cameras.
“What the hell?” Will said as a dozen or so skeletal apparitions began to emerge from the light beams, screeching as they swooped down around them.
“Percy, you getting this?” Arthur yelled out to his camera man, trying to shield himself from the screeching skeletons that were swooping down on him.
A group of skeleton ghosts locked onto Percy who was filming steadfastly and rushed at him, the force of their power knocking Percy, who was a very large man, off his feet and into the nearest wall. Merlin watched as the big man slid down the wall and slumped at the base. This was Merlin and Will’s cue to seek refuge. Will scrambled behind one tomb, letting his camera peek out around it, and Merlin dove behind another, his mind racing to come up with a plan to deal with these skeleton ghosts. In all their years of ghost-hunting, they had never come across ghosts that were actual skeletons.
It was only when he peeked around the stone box that Merlin realized Arthur hadn’t sought refuge like he and Will had. This was because he hadn’t been able to. With Percy, Will and Merlin out of the way, most of the skeleton ghosts had focused their attention on Arthur and were now surrounding him. He watched Arthur bat at them ineffectually and wanted to shout out that batting at ghosts was only likely to piss them off more (really, what kind of ghost hunter was Arthur Pendragon if he didn’t already know that?) but Merlin did not want to risk calling attention to himself lest the boney bunch decide to switch focus so he simply rolled his eyes instead.
The ghosts had Arthur pinned to the floor of the crypt, hovering all around him, shrieking so loud it made Merlin’s ears hurt. He thought he heard Arthur calling out to him, but it was difficult to hear anything beyond the high-pitched shrieks. Merlin knew he had to do something to help Arthur but he really didn’t know what. Skeleton ghosts were another first this job had brought.
Like he usually did, Merlin acted on instinct. He got up and moved out from behind the tomb. His legs felt like jelly and were shaking badly but he tried to cast his fears aside as he made his way toward Arthur, instinctually yelling out things in the hope that it would drive the skeleton ghosts away.
“Astrice!...Flieh on nu moras!...Awendap eft wansaelega neat!.. Forp fleoge!”
The words seemed to have little effect at first as they were most likely being drowned out by the loud shrieks. Merlin repeated them over and over until the ghosts finally took notice and started to withdraw their attack on Arthur, either retreating voluntarily or being effectively cast away. Merlin was able to drive away the few hardy ones that remained with a strong and loud, “Ablinn du, forlaet du nu!”
Skeleton ghosts now gone, he turned to Arthur, extending his hand to help him up and was not surprised to see Arthur looking at him like he had sprouted a unicorn horn on each of his two heads. It was the usual reaction to Merlin’s what-the-bloody-fuck-is-that-language-speak so he wasn’t really offended. Much.
Arthur took the offered hand and let Merlin haul him to his feet. He gave Merlin a puzzled look and then rushed over to the slumped form of Percy. Merlin understood that Percy’s well-being was a priority and that, as team leader, Arthur was responsible for the safety of his team members and it wasn’t like he had been expecting Arthur to present a thank you banner or anything, but a quietly murmured “thanks” for saving Arthur’s arse from a bunch of skeleton ghosts would have been nice.
Percy was conscious, and Merlin helped Arthur get Percy to his feet while Will gathered up the cameras and equipment. They made their way to the Great Hall, Arthur offering support to Percy who was a little unsteady on his feet but otherwise okay, and Merlin helping Will carry the equipment.
They had a story to tell the rest of the group at least.
“What do you mean, there’s no useable footage?” Arthur said in disbelief.
“There’s nothing. Nada. Zero. Ziltch,” Will responded, and Merlin was sure Arthur was going to blow his top. “The camera was damaged when those skeleton ghost bastards flung Percy into the wall and we can’t seem to retrieve any of the data from it.”
“What about your camera?” Arthur demanded. “Or did you forget to push play while you were hiding behind that tomb like a scared little girl?”
Will’s face turned red with rage. “Fuck you, Pendragon!” he yelled and Gwaine quickly restrained him before he could land a punch to Arthur’s face.
“Arthur!” Morgana scolded sternly and Merlin followed with an angrily indignant, “Will knows how to do his job, you prick!”
“Look,” Lance interjected, trying to infuse calm into the otherwise ready-to-blow situation. “We’ve gone over the video and sound recordings from both sets of equipment. Both Percy and Will did their jobs. There just isn’t anything there. All the video is scrambled and the sound recordings are nothing but white noise.”
“How is that possible?” Arthur wanted to know. “There were moving spectres. There was fucking EVP.” Merlin supposed swooping and shrieking skeleton ghosts counted as moving spectres and electronic voice patterns.
Lance shrugged. “What can I say? Your ghosts must have screwed with the audio and visual,” he said.
Lance rejoined Gwen at the Round Table where they resumed looking at the data from the other cameras that had been set up in the treasure vault. Merlin noticed that the two of them were sitting close, their heads bent together, their conversation whispered. Any other time, he would delight in being happy for his friend and what appeared to be a budding relationship, but Merlin was too busy being monumentally pissed off at Arthur at the moment that he couldn’t even feel a nugget of happiness for Lance and Gwen.
Merlin rounded on Arthur, ready to give him a piece of his mind, but something in Arthur’s expression stopped him from venting full out. He could still see the exasperation etched there but there was something soft, too, almost as though Arthur was issuing an unspoken apology. There was something else there, as well, something Merlin didn’t trust himself to believe. It was want, desire. He had seen it in Arthur’s face in his dreams, had sensed it in Arthur’s body language and had felt it in the way Arthur touched him. Merlin could feel it now even though they were both wide awake.
So instead of giving Arthur the chewing out he deserved, what Merlin ended up saying was, “You’re such a jerk!” Then he turned heel and quickly exited the Great Hall before the feelings stirred by the dream became rather embarrassingly apparent.
PART 3