Missed Connections: Part Three
Aug. 29th, 2010 05:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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His mum's house was nestled in a small meadow in Wales. The area was barely populated, and Merlin's mum had moved there when Merlin was wee because his magic was unpredictable. The less people around to accidentally see baby Merlin move objects around the house and have his blue eyes glow gold, the better. Most of the houses were now abandoned, their residents long dead. It had been an older area when Merlin was growing up. He remembered the older folks who lived around them. But now, now it was mostly just field, and his mum worked in town.
Which made the space around his childhood home a perfect place to let off some steam--magical steam, that is.
"Wicked!" Will yelled from his designated spot. ("I want to be closer." "Absolutely not. I'm too unpredictable." "What are you going to do, turn me into a frog?" "Fuck off, Will or I'll magic you home." "Spoilsport.")
Merlin opened his eyes to see the ground open up at his feet and sweep around him in a circular area. His magic was humming, so happy and content to search for more ways to get closer to the earth. It was a high like no other. He hovered, suspended above the hole as the earth undulated beneath him. The wind around him twisted, taking shape with the trees until they were dancing, swaying, and singing. The song was low and feral, thrumming through his fingertips and racing through his lungs as if the notes were actually breath. Merlin tilted his head back and let the beat take shape through him.
"Remember to think happy, clean thoughts!" Will shouted from the ground, and Merlin laughed out loud, the sound puffing out of his chest and forming small birds that swirled in the open air in front of him before they smashed together with a burst of color to create a huge falcon. The memory of the last time they had done this was clear, when Merlin had let his mind wonder to the anthology he had just published. Needless to say, Will had witnessed some pretty primal animal behavior that he wasn't likely to forget anytime soon. Even if gay woodland creatures were amusing for the first couple of minutes, after that, Will said it just got awkward.
The falcon, which looked as big as a prop plane, dove into the deep hole Merlin had created in the earth. Everything felt as if it were singing or laughing, the breath of the earth turning into heaving gulps of life. Merlin focused his magic, felt the stone spill out of his fingertips until it was surging out of the ground, and Merlin was rising with it. When he opened his eyes, he was standing on a solid stone tower that reached the tops of the tallest trees in the area. The falcon Merlin had created from his laughter was perched on the turret next to him.
"Merlin! You made a fucking tower! You medieval dork," Will yelled. He was obviously having a hard time staying put in his excitement. Merlin felt the stone hum around him, solid and protecting. He made sure the concealing wards were still up before he closed his eyes and felt the magic bloom inside of his mouth. He opened his eyes and pursed his lips, blowing a bubble out of the mass of energy in his lungs.
The bubble pulsated until it turned green and murky before plummeting to the ground and burrowing into a ring around the base of the tower. Will was whooping with glee, and Merlin focused on that, until he felt the water run deep, and spilled mirth inside of it until it breathed life into itself. When he opened his eyes again, there was a legitimate moat around his tower, full of dolphins.
"A moat! A bloody moat!" Will was in stitches across the field, and Merlin smiled when a pair of dolphins jumped out of the water, their figures arched as they dove. His skin had turned a shade of gold and was warring with the sunlight. He could do this for hours, just feel the earth live and breathe through him until he created castles and forests and actual life. This power of life and death was intoxicating--downright scary, but intoxicating nonetheless. His body hummed again, itching for more, and Merlin stepped to the edge of the turret, taking a deep breath before jumping. The water was cool, and Merlin swam straight through it until he hit dirt. He inhaled until dirt filled his lungs before he turned and started up again, breaking through the stone of the tower and infusing the stone until it crumbled around him into nothing but unadulterated creation.
Merlin sat in his newly created tree and took slow, calming breaths until his magic subsided. With some gentle prodding, the gold flowed back into his body and disconnected with the earth. He was never fully dissociated from nature, but it was best to keep the connection muted, or he'd glow gold all the damn time and he would have half the animals in the forests of Britain following him around.
When he opened his eyes, Will was standing below him.
"I thought I told you to stay back," Merlin murmured. His voice was hoarse, but otherwise he felt great.
Will shrugged. "You stopped glowing, figured it was safe. Freak."
"This was a brilliant idea," Merlin whispered. "I don't even feel tired. All that magical energy and I still feel like I could go another round."
Will grinned up at him. "It's brilliant idea because I'm a brilliant man. Now let's get going before your mum notices she has an extra tree in her yard and bitches seven ways 'til Sunday about us never comin' round."
Merlin laughed and hopped down from the low branch. The tree was a bit larger around the middle than any of the other trees in the area, but it wasn't any taller... well, it wasn't much taller. His mum would just have to make do.
"You're not too tired to carry us back? Because we can always take the train," Will said, as they headed back to the main road. Merlin shook his head.
"It'll be fine, Will."
They both shared a grin before linking hands, and disappearing in swirl of glittering gold magic.
Merlin flopped onto the couch, pressing his face into the cool and comfortable cushions. His body wasn't wound as tightly as it had been before, now that the magic had had free rein, but he still felt the gentle pressure of it beneath his skin. It was comforting, especially as relaxed as he felt. He couldn't even manage to care about Will, who was listening to the messages.
"There are about fifteen from Gwen," Will all but yelled from the kitchen. "She was only miffed for the first three, not that you could tell, but she did that little lifty thing with her voice. The rest she just sounded worried, mate."
Merlin smiled and sank further into the cushions. Gwen was amazing in that way; as much as she was outraged, she still had room for compassion. Morgana, on the other hand, was less than considerate of other people's feelings. Now that Merlin knew who she grew up with, this flaw in her personality didn't seem so strange. Morgana was surprised and frustrated when people had feelings, and considering the fact that the royal family had two modes, royal and pissed off, Merlin was finding clarity in her bizarrely regal behavior.
Will just called her emotionally constipated. Granted, his only emotions were horny and pissed.
"You going to give them a call back?"
Merlin turned over on the couch until the light was completely blocked by his shoulders. He wiggled until his hands were trapped under his body, and breathed in the smell of the old couch. He was so relaxed right now, he didn't even know if he could think about it. Blasé didn't really go over well with Gwen, and Morgana would probably think he was touched in the head or her brother had sent some sort of squadron of trained royal fuckers to completely ruin Merlin.
Did Prince Arthur have such a squad? He should probably ask.
"Merlin!"
Merlin sighed. "Is Morgana back yet?"
"Didn't say but it sounded like she was in an airport," Will said, his voice much closer than before.
"I'll wait, then."
Silence stretched between them. Merlin wanted a cup of tea.
"You going to meet the cocksucker?"
Merlin inhaled so sharply he choked on a stray piece of lint.
"Because I'm not sure if you should," Will continued, as if Merlin's lint capacity in his lungs was of no concern. In fact, that was the most infuriating thing about Will; he had come to think of magic as a part of Merlin and thus, acted like a complete and total prick about it. A know-it-all prick.
"And how," Merlin said into the cushion, "have you come to that conclusion?"
Will either ignored Merlin's annoyance or reveled in it. "Because tingly isn't exactly safe or discreet, is it?"
That was pretty much the opposite of what Merlin wanted to talk about, and he told Will as such.
"I mean, what if your magic goes off while he's sucking your dick," Will said, like Merlin didn't actually exist or wasn’t part of the conversation at all. "What happens then? I mean, what if you kill him with pleasure or something?"
"Your mind boggles me."
"Or what if you flood him with magic or what-not and he freaks out and bites your dick?" Will made a noise of displeasure. "Freya bit my dick once. I thought I was going to get prick-rot. No fucking joke, mate. Gangrene is serious shit."
Merlin groaned. He was so comfy on the couch, but being near Will was frighteningly painful.
"Do you think your magic would take care of prick-rot if that glory-hole bloke did freak out?"
Merlin finally turned his head to glare blearily at his flatmate. "Is this conversation seriously happening right now?"
Will sipped at his tea. "I'm just saying that it's something you really need to think about."
"I hate you."
"So, are you going to meet the cocksucker tonight?"
Merlin frowned. He was startlingly offended for the man with the handkerchiefs to be called something so pornographic. That fact alone made him flush with embarrassment and flip Will two fingers just on principle.
"Just make me some tea, will you?" Merlin cursed as he turned his face back into the couch, and Will laughed his way to the kitchen.
Merlin napped on and off until Will left.
No matter how annoying Will was, he did have a point. Not that Merlin would ever admit it to him, but nevertheless. He had been able to control his magic in their previous encounters, but he wasn't so sure his magic wanted to be controlled, not after having a day full of playtime. Things happened in the heat of the moment. Nothing bad had ever happened, but once or twice Merlin had moved furniture, and one more notable time his come had actually been gold, but no one had seen it but him and the condom so it didn't really make any difference. What Will was suggesting, well, it was just because he had a flare for the dramatic and wanted to torture Merlin in as many ways as possible that he continued to unconsciously fuel Merlin's fears.
When he was younger, his mother used to tell him that having sex would cause his magic to go crazy and he would either turn his partner into a frog or magic away his prick. Obviously, her threat was effective enough to make Merlin keep his virginity until university. She was a crafty woman. Merlin was half convinced she caught him wanking--objects levitated off the ground--and never let him know because it's the only way her prediction would be that accurate. Plus, once he got control over his magic, meditation was a must, and then the spontaneous acts of magic-while-aroused stopped.
Well, they had stopped but now with the whole glory-hole business and actually meeting the Prince of Albion, only to find that he both excited Merlin and invited rage into his heart, Merlin wasn't so sure he could trust his magic to behave anymore. Goodness knows if his eyes were flashing when he was arguing with Prince Prat, and even though it felt glorious to get out and release pent-up energy, Merlin was worried that his magic might get a little too free when he was meeting up with Handkerchief man.
"All right," he said aloud to Kilgharrah, who wasn't speaking to him at the moment because the cat had serious qualms about Merlin using his magic for anything that wasn't life or death. But Merlin wasn't exactly upset with the cat's silence, since he was rarely silent. The bickering between him and Will alone was enough to drive Merlin to drink.
"I'm not going," Merlin declared.
Kilgharrah hacked up a hair ball in response.
Merlin found himself heading towards his usual stall.
The fact that he had a usual stall was surreal and moving towards pathetic. But Merlin tried not to dwell on that fact as he walked quickly through the club, which was playing remixed songs from musicals as it was Broadway night, and slipped into the dirty bathroom. Not surprisingly, the bathroom was empty. Broadway themed nights weren't as busy as usual because there was an 18+ night at the twink bar around the corner, but the older queens were sipping cocktails and singing show tunes as if it were any other night. It was comforting, even if Merlin was sitting in an empty stall waiting for his pre-arranged glory-hole date.
"I'm pathetic," he said in the emptiness of the bathroom. The toilet seat was uncomfortable, and with only a small amount of debate with himself he closed his eyes and let his magic work, melting the toilet away and easing himself onto the floor, which was plush and comfortable beneath him thanks to a few murmured words.
He honestly had planned to stay home and write. He had. But, his magic had grown restless and it had scared him. With the amount of supernatural energy he had used today, he shouldn't be restless to use anymore. And it had been, until the hour grew nearer to when he was supposed to meet the Handkerchief Man, and his skin had itched with magic, and he left before he had to listen to Kilgharrah say 'I told you so'. Not that Kilgharrah needed to speak to be spiteful, but lately he had taken to lying on the kitchen counter and gloating, each phrase even more cryptic than the last, and always in a sing-song sort of voice that drove Merlin insane. It was infuriating and unnatural and made Merlin want to give the blasted thing up for adoption like Will had been suggesting ever since he found out that Merlin had a talking cat with a freakishly long life span.
But now that he was here, sitting in his usual stall and waiting for a stranger to blow him through a hole, he didn't feel horny. He felt agitated and restless, like his magic still wasn't happy. It was odd, to think about the varying moods of his magic, but it had been so temperamental lately, almost as bad as his writing.
Which he hadn't done in days, due to some grave mistake Merlin must have made in a past life that compelled the universe to punish him long into his current one. He had writer's block that was only cured by getting his cock sucked by a specific stranger, who was probably ugly or a mass murderer, and his editor was probably planning to feed him to her pet tiger for being a failure as a writer and for telling off her sort-of-brother, who was not a sort-of-prince but an actual one.
Will was right, there was nothing normal about his life.
Merlin rubbed at his forehead and stared at the empty stall on the other side of the hole. His magic twitched, sparking up his spine, but otherwise it behaved. It was strange. Although he didn't feel aroused, his magic hummed like he was. It was a peculiar feeling--not unwelcome, just unfamiliar and confusing.
"This is ridiculous," Merlin said, and set about persuading himself to leave, which probably would have worked if the handkerchief man hadn't chosen that moment to walk in, place his handkerchief on the ground, and kneel. Merlin recognized the gentle pleat of his trousers underneath the stall, and his magic flared, bright and almost painful, before settling back down on the base of his spine.
He felt utterly calm. Comforted, even.
"I almost didn't come," Merlin whispered, surprising himself by talking. "This all seems so crazy and you wouldn't believe me if I told you how much I need this--how much this affects me."
Merlin cringed. Great, now he sounded desperate. "Not in a sexual way," he amended. "Just, it's like this switch gets flicked, and somewhere it all makes sense when you're here. Which, I know, sounds crazy because you're just here to get off and I'm babbling on and on like a love-sick fool when I don't even know you."
He trailed off. He tentatively touched his fingers into the hole, where he could feel the man taking even breaths. Merlin pressed his forehead to the stall and breathed slowly until he was taking breaths in sync with the puffs of air on the pads of his fingers.
"Can I... can I just talk?" Merlin's face was bright red, but his magic was soothing, casting calming waves over him that left him feeling euphoric. He was hoping some of that feeling was translating because he just wanted to stay here forever. "I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, because obviously you came here for a reason, and I can go so someone else can take my place, but--"
Soft lips pressed against his fingers in a chaste kiss.
Merlin sighed. "Are you sure? Because I don't want to ruin your night, this is obviously your thing, and here I am just rambling and being such a sensitive twat."
Merlin relaxed as the lips pressed gentle kisses up and down the length of his fingers. It was such an intimate gesture, obviously made to make Merlin relax, that he almost felt himself harden at how sensual it all was. He wanted nothing more than to kiss those lips, but obviously the man had a reason to be in a bathroom stall--a reason for anonymity that Merlin wasn't going to question.
And so Merlin watched as the handkerchief man rearranged himself so that he was sitting as Merlin was, instead of on his knees. The whole process took a few seconds, but Merlin was captivated by the quiet grace the man held. Merlin wished he could clean the floor and soften it for him, but it would be too hard to do it without him noticing. Instead, Merlin took in the soft look of his trousers and the long line of his legs. He was obviously tall, though he couldn't be much taller than Merlin, but where Merlin was lanky and awkward, the man looked comfortable in his own body and strong in the way his body had filled out. Merlin tried not to stare at the man's legs, which looked as if they could belong to a footballer, but he couldn't help but think how small he looked in comparison. Merlin didn't know anything about fashion, so he couldn't suss out if the man's trousers were fashionable or if his shoes were expensive, but that didn't stop Merlin from looking.
Or talking.
Merlin filled the next two hours with rambling in whispered tones from topics of his writing to Kilgharrah's obscure speeches before straying tentatively toward the subjects of Gwen and Morgana, leaving out their names and hashing out everything that Merlin had been avoiding talking to Will about. It was easy, surprisingly easy to lay it all out in the open for a stranger who gave amazing head and kissed Merlin's fingers like he was born to do nothing but that, bestowing soft and intimate kisses on whomever he chose as blissful gifts.
It was only after Merlin had left, his magic humming and his skin practically glowing gold, that he realized they had been holding hands beneath the stall. Merlin felt a smile stretch across his face, only regretting the fact that he couldn't remember what the hands had felt like against his own or what they could have told him about the man behind the stall.
That night, he wrote about those hands as much as he fantasized about them. The dark red handkerchief sat folded on his desktop where Kilgharrah was lying, pawing at the elaborate embroidered dragon and smiling creepily as he was known to do. Merlin was too concerned with his writing to tell him off. Besides, he was grateful for the quiet.
That night, Merlin dreamed vividly. At first, the dream seemed like the first night he had spent with the handkerchief man: the sounds of the bathroom were the same and Merlin felt the same actions run their course. But this time, as the warm wet heat of the man's mouth engulfed him, the hole grew larger. Merlin could sense his magic thrumming through him, beating in time with the loud bass of the club and running up through his feet. He wondered if the man who was blissfully sucking at his cock, taking him deep in his throat, felt the same magical hum, or if he only had the music to guide him.
He wanted to ask, wanted to gasp dirty things to him through the stall, but he was too concerned about his magic and the way the hole was getting larger, exposing the man's lips, thin but soft around Merlin's cock and stretched impossibly wide as they tightened around the base so his tongue could play with the vein on the underside. Merlin tried to stop him, tried to pull away when he realized the hole was getting bigger, but he couldn't stop thrusting back into the heat of the man's mouth, utterly consumed by pleasure, and letting his magic run wild. Soon, the man's nose was coming into view, as was the sharp line of his chin. Both looked slim but strong, almost regal-looking, as they came into view.
Merlin clutched at the top of the stall, his mind torn between enjoying the thick and heavy pounding of pleasure through his body, and the terrifying edge of his magic being loose, exposing the man's face. The thought of the man, exposed and real in front of him, both terrified Merlin and excited him.
He wanted to suck on that man's tongue. He wanted to kiss the man's lips. But there was something stronger at bay, welling and sloshing against the sides of his chest. There was a constant ambivalence in the choices that his magic faced, as if there really were two sides of a coin to Merlin's life and to his magic that where in continual war.
The hole kept expanding to encompass the strong line of the man's jaw, sprinkled with dark blonde stubble. He was attractive, but Merlin couldn't seem to care about his earlier worries. He was panicked with fear and pleasure, and they both seemed to be erupting up the base of his spine as the hole widened, the man's eyelashes coming into view as they fanned out over his cheeks. His bone structure was strong and the lines were masculine. Even with his eyes closed, the man looked powerful and radiated strength.
Merlin couldn't stop himself from thrusting, pleasure twisting inside of him and wrenching cries out of his throat as the man opened wider, letting Merlin fuck his face in earnest now. Merlin was too entranced by the sight of his cock pushing the man's lips wide to notice that the entirety of his face was now exposed, too occupied with watching the way the man's lips turned bright red and spit coated his chin from his open mouth.
The man moaned loudly, and Merlin felt his orgasm looming just out of his reach. He cried out as his magic surged, and the man's eyes flew open, his face becoming a whole picture and not just pieces of a human puzzle.
The face of Prince Arthur Pendragon of Albion stared back at him, blue eyes striking in their blown arousal, and looking just as impassioned as he had when he was arguing with Merlin nights before.
Merlin came, reality and fantasy all spiraling into chaos as his dream dissolved, leaving him wide awake with sticky sheets and his hand clutching the red handkerchief.
Merlin emerged from his shower still feeling dirty, toweling his hair and glaring at his bed, which was still rumpled and smelled like sex. He was in denial that his mind had actually let him have a sex dream about Prince Prat, of all people. He was no stranger to odd dreams, but sex dreams about people he absolutely loathed were rare. Merlin hadn't come in his sleep since he was fourteen and desperately in love with Percy Thomas, the school football star who had freckles and adorable glasses.
His usual dreams were a bit more... medieval, to be completely honest. Merlin had dreamed of destiny and dragons since he was little, but they were never sexual in nature. Hell, they were the most confusing dreams that sounded more like riddles out of Kilgharrah's mouth than dream-like states. A sex dream in and of itself was unusual enough, but one about Prince Arthur was just downright wrong.
Merlin dressed quickly, finding the nearest white shirt and pair of tight black jeans he could get his hands on, before he turned back to the bed and set it on fire with a flick of his hand. The disappearance of the evidence made Merlin feel marginally better. He could deny this now. He could put this behind him. He wasn't sure he could look Morgana in the eye, but what else was new?
"Bit early for redecorating, isn't it?"
Merlin whipped his head around from where he was staring at the smoldering ashes of his bed and its linens to find Will standing in the doorway, pajama-clad and sipping a cup of tea. Merlin blushed.
"I don't really want to talk about it," Merlin said as firmly as possible. His mouth watered for a cup of tea and maybe a piece of toast with jam.
Will shrugged. "Don't really have time to listen to you ramble anyway, mate. You've got a meeting in an hour with Morgana."
"What?"
"Gwen just called."
Merlin looked frantically around the room. He wasn't ready for this. "What did she say?"
"Not much, just to get there and try not to be late because Morgana was in a mood."
"Fantastic."
Merlin pulled on trainers and grabbed a scarf from the floor, hastily pulling on a cardigan from the back of a chair before storming into the kitchen. There was still warm water in the kettle, warm enough for weak tea, and Merlin scrambled between toaster and kettle. He couldn't go to Morgana's without breakfast. The last time that had happened, Merlin had thrown up on a finished manuscript and stained her carpet. She hadn't been happy, and he could easily imagine how unhappy she would be if it happened again. (Especially given the fact that Merlin wasn't going to meet the magazine deadline and had trash-talked her brother in a very public and very posh setting. To his face.)
Merlin stuffed half a piece of toast into his mouth and gratefully accepted his satchel from Will, who was still standing in his pajamas and looking for all the world like this was any other normal morning.
"How can you be so calm?" Merlin screeched at Will as he sorted through his bag, double checking that everything was there. "I could be marching to my death, and you're just standing there."
Will opened his mouth to reply but Merlin was already out of the flat, door slamming shut by magical force.
There was no way he wasn't going to be late.
Morgana's office was normally carefully controlled chaos. Today, when Merlin walked off the lift, it was clear that control was not on anyone's agenda for the day. The scene before him was pure chaos. Gwen, who had her headset on, was talking to what appeared to be ten different people as well as periodically handing Morgause tissues. The emotionally scarred self-help writer was sobbing uncontrollably in the corner of the room, wearing a bathrobe. Merlin wanted to ask, but he was honestly afraid of the answer. Behind him, Morgana's curtains were pulled tight over her office windows, but Merlin could hear muffled yelling.
Well, then.
"Hi," Merlin waved as he stepped into the office and shut the door behind him. Morgause didn't look up, too busy blowing her nose, but Gwen gestured to him frantically. Merlin stepped closer but didn't completely approach her desk. It looked like a war zone. "Maybe you'd like me to come back?"
Gwen frowned at him and then turned sharply towards her computer to type furiously, all while glaring at Merlin and yelling at someone on the phone who was apparently have a very, very bad day.
"Sir," Gwen said. "Ms. Le Fay doesn't care about the psychological damage your mother may or may not have afflicted on you. She doesn't have time to speak with you or come to your aid because she is a very busy and important individual. Don't--"
Merlin raised an eyebrow and took a seat across from Morgause, who looked as if she was considering bursting out into another round of tears. Merlin tried imploring her with his eyes to refrain, but her bottom lip started to tremble and so he looked away, occupying himself with trying to see what was going on in Morgana's office.
"What is wrong with everyone!" Merlin looked up to see Gwen ripping off her headset and sweeping the telephone off her desk with a frustrated noise that was frankly terrifying. He had never been in a situation that Gwen couldn't handle with poise and crisp, polite tones. Merlin twitched in his seat, clutching his bag to his chest and ignoring Morgause's sniffling.
"Um?" Merlin tried to smile, but he was fairly sure he just came across as scared. Gwen stood up and made several aggressive hand gestures while shuffling papers around and generally looking threatening. Mostly because Gwen never looked threatening, and even a small amount of aggression looked fierce on her, let alone what her stress level must have been building to, with Morgana buying tigers and anything else Gwen neglected to mention... not that Merlin was returning her calls as of late.
"Merlin," Gwen started, as she stacked notebooks and large envelopes. "I would love nothing more than to yell at you for stranding me at that dinner party, which you completely freaked out at, but I do not have time for that."
Merlin felt an embarrassed flush work its way up his neck. It was like when his mother used to lecture him, voice cold: 'Merlin, I'm so disappointed in you that I can't even look at you. Get out of my sight.'
"I'm really so--"
"Yeah, I don't have time," Gwen said with a flick of her wrist and an ominous eyebrow. "But we will be having a conversation, Merlin. We will."
Merlin nodded blankly. "So, I'm not here for you to yell at me?"
"No," Gwen said with a smirk. "You're here so Morgana can yell at you."
"Morgana's back?"
"Oh yes, tiger and all."
Merlin got up and shuffled forward, where Gwen was stuffing a bag full of papers. "You're leaving?"
"As much as I would love to stay," Gwen muttered. "Because it's going to be a production, and you're likely to cry liters of emo tears, which I wouldn't want to miss considering the pain you deserve to feel after the complete and utter embarrassment you made me endure. However, I've got about a million and one things to do for Morgana and not enough hours in the day."
"Gwen, please don't leave me."
Gwen looked up, bored expression plastered on her face. Life was cruel.
"Gwen," Merlin uttered desperately. She continued to look unimpressed with his despair.
"I almost feel bad for you," she said with a tilt of her head, as if considering saving him or imagining his demise at the hands of royalty.
"But," Merlin asked meekly.
"I still have to go." Gwen pulled the bag over her shoulder. "Gird your loins, love. Morgana will bellow for you when she's ready."
Merlin nodded as Gwen kissed his cheek on her way by, completely ignoring Morgause and making her way out the door without a backwards glance. And with that, Merlin was left to ponder his fate, with Morgause's tearful sniffling by his side.
He honestly had never imagined his end being so dim. But then again, he was certain his destiny was to die destitute and alone, while Will had said eventually, by the rule of large numbers, that one of Merlin's drunken shags was going to be a serial killer and he would die, pants around his ankles, in a compromising position, with enough alcohol in his system to kill a pony. Obviously, they had spent quite a bit of time contemplating Merlin's pathetic existence. In fact, it used to inspire at least a couple thousand words out of him. Now, the only thing that seemed to help was the handkerchief man.
"My career is over," he said aloud. Morgause just nodded and blew her nose.
It was then, as Merlin was considering joining Morgause in her pity party, that a loud scream came from Morgana's office. It wasn't a normal scream of delight that Morgana often had when she gleefully forced a manuscript out of a block-ridden author or when she finally signed a writer away from Nimeuh Publications. It was a scream of terror.
Merlin was out of his seat and through the door before Morgause could gasp out another pitiful tear. The sight that greeted him was shocking and would be a bit hilarious from the sheer ludicrousness if it didn't seem to involve someone losing their life.
Merlin didn't hesitate; his hand flew out in front of him, and he felt magic surge through his body until his vision went white. Merlin blinked back into vision, his hands trembling before him as he turned to survey the office, which had gone completely and utterly still.
It looked as if he had literally stopped time.
Morgana was a mess, her jeans loose on her body and her hair was messily pinned up, but she still looked more beautiful than any woman Merlin had ever met. There were papers scattered all over the office as if a tornado had hit, there were even stray pencils and pens stuck into the wall or the ceiling. Merlin wasn't sure if his magic had done that or if flying writing utensils was normal. To the left of the door was the most shocking sight and probably why his magic kicked in so forcefully, Kilgharrah's words echoing in his mind about life and death situations exceeding his control over his magic.
A large tiger was leaning over Prince Arthur of Albion, teeth bared and looking bone-chillingly frightening. The prince was dressed in what looked to be the remains of a very expensive and well-tailored suit. The trousers were wrinkled, the jacket thrown over the large black leather couch, and the prince's shirt was slashed open with several large claw marks, his blood stilled in time but already seeping into the surrounding cloth.
Merlin couldn't help but notice how toned his chest was.
"Not the time," Merlin said aloud as the reality of what he did began to sink in. How was he supposed to fix this without revealing his magic? Did he just move the tiger and then act like they were all insane? That wouldn't work. Prince Arthur was a prat, but he wasn't stupid. Maybe he could call a zoo keeper or animal control and then unfreeze time before he got there? Yes. That would have to do.
Merlin picked up the phone but heard nothing across the line.
"What the fuck?" Merlin turned from the useless phone and pulled at the curtains to reveal the street below, completely still and unmoving.
"Holy shit," Merlin said, pulling the curtains back into place as if that would make the gravity of his magic disappear. Was the whole city stopped? Was the whole country? Had he stopped the time of the entire universe just with a flick of his wrist and a flash of gold?
"Holy shit." Merlin took a deep breath, willing himself to stop hyperventilating. The only person in the world Merlin had ever sought advice about this magic wasn't even a person, and surely Kilgharrah was frozen as well. It did no one any good to dwell on the detail that he was in fact, scary powerful. He should just focus on more pressing issues, like how to save the prince's life without revealing himself to someone who could either take over the world or use Merlin for creepy science experiments or kill him with secret ninja assassins. He also happened to be a complete and total prat.
Maybe he should just let the tiger eat him.
Merlin felt hysterical, inappropriate laughter bubble up from his belly. He tried to stifle his giggles as he paced around the room, trying to think of something he could do without outing himself or causing even more of a disaster than usual. He obviously wasn't cut out to be saving anyone's life. He was absolute rubbish at getting himself out of situations he shouldn’t be in to begin with, let alone other people, without causing severe injury to life and limb.
Either way, he was going to have to deal with some serious wrath, but royal wrath seemed much more complicated and frightening than Morgana, which was incredible considering how much of Merlin's adult life had been spent hiding from Morgana and her evil, if not productive, ways. Maybe he could just unfreeze her? Because one pissed off and freaked out person was probably much easier to handle than two. If Merlin had to handle two Wills when he told him about the magic, well, Merlin wasn't too sure he would still be alive.
"Right then," Merlin said aloud as he walked back around the desk to face Morgana. "Just unfreeze her. No one else."
Merlin closed his eyes and tried to feel out his magic, as if he were meditating, and moved it towards Morgana. It was harder to control his magic when it felt as if it were thundering through his veins.
The startled scream from Morgana signaled her return to motion; unfortunately, there was also a distinctly animalistic roar that accompanied it from behind him. Merlin turned around, one hand thrown out to stop the tiger from sinking his claws into Prince Arthur's prone form, or letting it rip into the man's throat. The burst of magic was bright and concentrated, gold blooming through the room, leaving Merlin gasping for air as the tiger fell to the ground, blood soaking the area behind its head, and life slipping from its eyes. Morgana gasped beside him, and Merlin turned towards her, trying to gauge her reaction as his vision blurred, his legs as shaky as a newborn colt beneath him as the rest of his body hummed, glowing gold with unrestrained magic. She only looked bewildered, and Merlin muttered an apology, the words wheezing out of him as the last burst of magic seeped through him. Time started again and Merlin passed out, his body crashing to the floor, no longer able to stand beneath the strength of his power.
The first time Merlin woke up, everything was dark and silent. The only evidence of light was pooling in his palm, a shimmering globe of magic that seemed simply incandescent and peaceful. He let the comforting lull of magic sweep over him as he closed his eyes and fell back into oblivion.
The second time Merlin regained consciousness, he could feel the area underneath of him was soft and smelled like fresh linens. He could hear raised voices, but just as he identified Will's and possibly Kilgharrah's, sleep claimed him again. He didn't even think to check his hand for the ball because he knew it was there, a pleasantly calm bit of magic that coaxed him to sleep.
As Merlin struggled into wakefulness a third time, he twisted and turned in the soft linens until a hand tightened around his own. He tried to open his eyes, but his lids seemed heavy with sleep. Instead he just squeezed back, clutching at the person's hand until he fell back asleep.
He was dreaming for the first time since he fell asleep. He was soaring above a beautiful countryside when a voice called to him, slowly pulling him away from the vivid landscape.
"Merlin," the soft voice said. "Merlin, wake up. I need you to drink some water."
Cool hands touched his forehead and Merlin heard himself groan, the dim light from the bedside practically blinding him. There was a scramble to turn the light off, and Merlin tried to open his eyes again, vision blurry, but coherent enough to make out Gwen's round face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Gwen shushed him, putting a cup of water to his lips.
He drank greedily, suddenly realizing how dry his throat was.
"There you go," she murmured again as she smoothed a cool cloth over his forehead. "Your fever just broke. You need to rest more."
Merlin shook his head, pushing away the empty cup and opening his mouth to speak. He had so much to explain, so much to apologize for. Gwen tutted, leaning him back against the pillows and taking his hand. "Sleep now, we'll talk later. You're safe," she said, and Merlin clutched at her hand as he fell into darkness once again.
Merlin blinked into wakefulness.
"Don't think that almost dying isn't going to get you out of a lecture," a soft but obviously tearful voice said beside him. Merlin blinked again, clearing the sleep from his eyes with a tired hand before the world came into focus. It was night time, the darkness seeping in through the bottom of the curtains by a window he didn't recognize.
Merlin tried to sit up, but Morgana just scooted closer, her slim hand pressing on his chest until he lay flat on the bed. It seemed as if she had been crying, eyes bright and clothes rumpled. She looked like a woman in a Renaissance painting, so sad and yet in possession of such beauty that she was still captivating. When she started to move back, Merlin put his hand over hers, and they laced their fingers over his heart.
He wondered if she understood.
"I'm so sorry," Merlin whispered. "I never meant to lie to you."
Morgana shook her head, her free hand going to wipe away a few tears before they went streaming down her face. "You've got plenty to apologize for but I'm the one who should be asking for forgiveness."
Merlin smiled, but it felt tiny and stretched. He clutched harder at her hand and hoped to all that was good that she understood. "I guess we're both really good liars."
"I guess," Morgana barked out in a small huff of laughter. "We should try and be worse at it. Starting now."
Merlin nodded. He toyed with the ring on her finger and looked around the room. It was lavishly decorated in a minimalist style. It screamed money but didn't look like Morgana, who favored deep colors and striking prints.
"Where are we?"
Morgana tilted her head and sighed. "Arthur's place."
Merlin bolted upright. "Oh god, is he all right?" Merlin tried to get up, dizziness swimming through his blurry vision, but Morgana stopped him with two hands to his chest and a fond but earnest smile.
"He's fine, Merlin. Arthur is fine."
Merlin collapsed back into bed, suddenly feeling intensely exhausted.
"Wait," he said, as he patted the soft duvet beneath him. "We're in Prince Arthur's home?"
Morgana nodded, her face bordering on sheepish. Merlin groaned.
"Please tell me I haven't been in a magically induced coma in Prince Arthur of Albion's palace, Morgana. I will honestly flip my shit--"
Morgana giggled and shook her head, getting up to pour Merlin a glass of water. Or at least, Merlin thought it was water, even though it was being poured out of a pitcher probably worth more than his life. It was heavily ordained, and Merlin wasn't quite sure how Morgana's wrists could handle the weight of the pure crystal. It looked heavy.
"It's Arthur's flat here in London, Merlin. You are such a little bitch, stop panicking."
"Right," he said, accepting the glass of water. "Right then."
Morgana settled back in the chair beside his bed and looked nervous--at least, that was what Merlin suspected her expression was, he had never seen it before. She could just be constipated or plotting new and exciting ways to ruin his life. Merlin pushed himself up to gulp at the water, then settled back into the pillows.
"So," he said, and then smiled meekly. Morgana shook her head and laughed at him.
"Magic, Merlin. I think it's probably about time you explain the magic," Morgana said. "Particularly the part where you saved my brother--well, practically my brother, and maybe the part with the spinning magical ball in your sleep, and Kilgharrah, your talking cat."
Morgana paused, tilting her head back and forth. "Well, maybe you should just start at the beginning?"
And then, for the first time since Will, Merlin explained how he had been moving objects since he was wee and how he had grown into his powers, powers that seemed to range from moving objects with his mind to creating life when joined with the natural force of nature. Morgana nodded in all the appropriate places, as if Merlin was pitching a particularly interesting story to her. She didn't look frightened or angry with him, and it was all in all a pleasant experience, much more so than it had been with Will, who had interrupted every five seconds to yell in outrage or shriek in awe. Merlin felt a bit silly for worrying about Morgana, who had obviously been well-versed in the keeping of secrets.
"Whatever happened in your office," Merlin said with a shrug and an unidentifiable hand gesture, "I've never felt anything like that before. I mean, I've never really saved anyone's life before, but the way my magic behaves when Prince Arthur is around is strange. It's never felt that way before."
Merlin blushed and broke eye contact with Morgana because that wasn't necessarily true. He had felt that rush of uncontrollable magic before saving Prince Arthur's life. He had felt it with the handkerchief man. Morgana seemed to read him well enough to question him on it, though.
"Merlin, I thought we said no more lies."
"Fine, fine, all right. But you're going to mock me."
Morgana looked at him as if he had lost his head. "Darling, you're a bloody wizard named Merlin, for Christ's sake. If I was going to mock you for something, surely it would be that."
"Yes," he said. "But this is different. It's... well, it's gayer."
Morgana simply giggled.
"See? You're already laughing."
It only seemed to make her laugh harder. Merlin huffed, although he was smiling.
"I'm not telling you until you stop laughing at me."
"Okay," she said. "Tell me, what is immensely gay that also has to do with your magic? Do you have a unicorn or something? Shoot rainbows out your arse?"
Merlin's jaw dropped. "No! No! Nothing like that."
"Well?"
Merlin found that sometimes when he was admitting to something particularly embarrassing (like that time he magicked toilet paper into the loo from the living room cupboard) that it was best to come out with it straight away. Merlin called it the Will Approach.
Mostly because that was how Will spoke about everything: blunt and oh so painfully to the point.
"My writer's block is only being cured by getting blown in a glory hole," Merlin said in a rush. "By the same guy who makes my magic all wonky. Whom I call the handkerchief man. But only in my head."
Merlin grimaced as he watched for a reaction. All he got was a very slim eyebrow being arched.
"A glory hole, you say?"
"Erm, yes."
"And how is it affecting your writing?"
Merlin sighed. This was the tough part. "Um, well. I'm writing more theory-based stories."
A second eyebrow joined the first.
"More like smut with a heavy dose of queer theory dealing with intimacy issues within the community," Merlin finished, and Morgana groaned in agony, burying her head in her hands. Even the top of her head looked pissed off.
"I'm not sorry," Merlin found himself saying. Morgana stilled the shaking of her head in her hands. "I mean, I'm sorry it's not going to sell as well, but, Morgana, it's some of the best writing I've ever done. It just flows out of me after I've seen him, and it's beautiful. It's beyond anything I've ever felt before."
Morgana raised her head, looking resigned but not terribly furious. "So we're pursuing this, yes?"
"Yes," he said with a firm nod of his head.
"And this magical wonkiness is the same way you feel around my brother?"
Merlin blushed. "It has no correlation."
"Really?" Morgana deadpanned, her voice climbing into smugness.
"Yes. You're bro-- The Prince of Albion is just a prat, no offense. And as far as I'm concerned, it was just my magic reacting to the life or death situation that presented itself."
Morgana looked unimpressed at his no-nonsense tone.
"Morgana, I'm serious."
"Be serious all you want, Merlin. But I'm fairly sure you have a crush on that brother of mine," she said in a sing-song voice that strongly reminded Merlin of Will and Kilgharrah simultaneously. It was unnerving.
"I do not have a crush on Arthu--The Prince of Albion!"
"It's okay, I admit he has a nice arse. Even if he's a snob," Morgana said offhandedly. As if they were talking about the weather and not something that may or may not be considered treason.
His face must have belied his thoughts because Morgana laughed, tittering and lovely. "Oh Merlin, Arthur can't behead you for wanting to bugger him. He'd have to lock up half of England if he were shy; which, by and by, I think you know that he isn't. I still can't believe you had a row with him in front of the extended royal family!"
Merlin felt the flush from the very tips of his toes to his very wide ears. "He started it! He was a complete and utter prat."
Morgana looked at him as if he were a very amusing child. Merlin sputtered in frustration, pointing a finger and kind of flailing his arms.
"And I do not want to shag him or his princely perfect bum!”
The resulting clatter of crockery outside the door, complete with an exceedingly polished voice cursing, had Merlin burying his face into the pillow and Morgana howling with laughter.
"He's out there isn't he?" Merlin whispered, in downright humiliation.
Morgana tried to calm down her chortling and managed to spit out during bursts of donkey-like braying, "This is his house, Merlin." But Merlin was too busy trying to smother himself with the nearest royal linen to pay her any mind. His life was over.
"I'm not apologizing for killing your tiger if you don't stop laughing," Merlin said, but Morgana just waved him off, snickering until tears were running down her face.
"God," Merlin moaned into the pillows as Morgana began to actually hiccup from the strain of laughing at his expense.
"I should have just let it eat me."
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Date: 2010-08-30 05:27 am (UTC)This is my placeholder. I'm so looking forward to finishing this but alas, I must sleep. But it's sooo good so far. <3 Will return tomorrow.
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Date: 2010-08-30 10:05 pm (UTC); )
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Date: 2010-08-31 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-31 01:02 am (UTC)i can't really describe this. it just grabbed by the balls with the first scene then did not let go, and now I'm laughing like hell and OMG CLICKY MOOOOOAAAARRR
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Date: 2010-08-31 09:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-09-01 12:10 am (UTC)PS WHERE' MAH URBINE BYATCH
PPS JAY KAY JAY KAY <3
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Date: 2010-09-01 06:19 pm (UTC)GEEZ.
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Date: 2010-09-01 11:36 pm (UTC)ps I fucking love it. Duh.
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Date: 2010-10-07 05:59 am (UTC)The big save was also fantastic. Merlin's magic is so out of control, its a character, too.
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Date: 2010-10-16 08:19 pm (UTC)(ps lovely story. i'm just perplexed...will soldier on despite confusion!)
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Date: 2010-10-23 07:27 pm (UTC)