InsaneJournal

Who: Arthur and Merlin
What: Discussions about some watery tart in a lake throwing swords
When: Some point after this
Where: Apartment
Rating: Low
Status: Complete



Arthur made his purchases, slipping the boxes under one arm and headed back toward the Zenner building at a clipped pace. Merlin was hiding something. Again. It hurt less than he expected it to. Merlin's secrets were numerous and Arthur was beginning to wonder if he was allowed to have any of his own. It was absurd that such a skinny frame could hold such large secrets and that Merlin managed to have one that Arthur couldn't draw a memory of from his future, and yes, that was one headache he chose not to dwell over to hard, even if the image of Merlin happily kicking Arthur's arse at Trouble was firmly emblazoned across his mind, it didn't change the fact that this was a secret Merlin had never revealed before.

He took to the stairs and jogged to their floor, entering the flat with little fanfare.

"Here." He dropped one of the boxes next to Merlin on the floor who had Leo propped on his chest.

Merlin started, glancing first at the box beside him and then up at Arthur. He grinned and set Leo down before jumping to his feet and dragging Arthur into a one-armed hug. "You're back!" It wasn't as if they'd talked in depth about what had happened in the hospital, but gestures like this seemed to occur for Merlin naturally ever since, without much thought. And after Arthur had gone out and bought games for him, it had seemed even more necessary.

Even if for a moment there, it had looked like Merlin would have to have a conversation he really, really would have wanted to have over a little black box.

The hug could only last so long. Arthur leaned into it, only half returning the gesture, before pulling back with a stern frown. He had to be stern with Merlin, otherwise the conversation was likely going to go off in a hundred separate directions, none of which held the answer he was seeking. Under normal circumstances, Arthur wouldn't mind.

He bent down and scooped up the rabbit, fingering one of its soft ears. "When I was five, a kitten managed to find its way into my nursery. I never wanted a pet so badly." Arthur handed the rabbit back to Merlin and frowned. "My father let me keep it, as a test."

It was odd, the way Arthur had returned the hug at least a little, but the smile not at all. He took Leo and pet him distractedly with the fingers of his casted arm. "What happened?"

"She died. " Arthur sighed and dragged Merlin down onto the sofa with him. "I was five, I didn't know the first thing about caring for a sickly cat. I thought about taking her to Gaius, but what could he have done?"

Merlin bit his lip. Arthur had been so young then, and he knew they had both lost much more in this world than a cat. But he could see, despite all that, that the memory still had a hold on him. "I'm sorry," he said softly, honestly, though a coiling in his chest warned him that Arthur wasn't bringing this up without reason.

Arthur's lips twitched. Merlin's expression was a study of contrasts. Arthur was stepping dangerously around the ultimate question here, which was how much did Merlin trust Arthur with all his secrets. "I got a dog for my sixth birthday and then a new one every year after. I only had to pet them and feed them treats."

Merlin nodded, though he was unsure what he was agreeing with. He was unsure about a lot of things at the moment. "You always seemed to love those dogs."

"I do." And for a few moments he missed them almost as much as he missed anything in Camelot. Shaking himself, Arthur offered Merlin the smallest of smiles. "What have you been doing?"

There had been something, something in Arthur's eyes and voice that made Merlin want to hug him again, tighter and longer, until that something went away. Then it was gone. At least, it was hidden. "Nothing. Playing with Leo. Arthur... is something wrong?"

"Is there?" Arthur caught the way Merlin was watching him, a bird in the sky wouldn't miss it and he doubted he'd get a better opening to casually prod at Merlin's closely guarded secrets. "You tell me."

His mind went immediately to the hitch in their earlier conversation, and he bit his lip. "N-no. I'm fine." Why had he always been so horrible at lying?

"N-no, you're lying." Arthur's tone went from mocking to flat within three words and he reached around to cuff the back of Merlin's head. "Do you have any idea how annoying it is that you can't even try to lie well to me anymore? Not that you did it well before," he added in reflection.

Despite himself, Merlin had to laugh a little. "I'm sorry. I'll have to work on that." He drew in a short breath and met Arthur's eyes again, knowing that one way or another, Arthur would find out his last big secret tonight. "Arthur, I-- I don't know how to tell you. And I don't know if you really want to hear it."

Because that was sure to drive Arthur away. He settled more comfortably on the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him and asked, "Is it bothering you

Merlin hesitated, then nodded.

"Then I want to hear it," Arthur said.

Somehow, Arthur's genuine concern simultaneously reassured him, and made him more anxious. "Alright." The telling wouldn't be quick or easy, though. Finding his first words was hard enough. "Do you... do you remember the Druid girl? The one who escaped the cage?"

"Yes, of course." It had been a chaotic few days after a tormenting few weeks where his father had utterly lost his mind. Overall, the last year had been one outrageous event after the next. There would be no forgetting, not for a very long time.

Merlin nodded, briefly shutting his eyes against the onslaught of memories. "Freya," he said quietly, and opened them again. "Her name was Freya. I'm-- I'm the one who set her free." He settled his eyes on Arthur, waiting, watching, for a reaction.

Arthur tried to work up some modicum of shock to appease Merlin's need for a reaction, but he couldn't even bring it forth, he didn't know how to at this point. Everything Merlin was predictable to a certain extent. Magical girl in a cage with magical Merlin equaled Merlin releasing the girl, Freya. "Is that all? It wasn't. Arthur wouldn't for a second believe Merlin if he said yes. Merlin had done far worse things than release a druid girl from a cage.

Merlin shook his head. "No." There was no point in lying anymore, right? "I hid her below the castle. I brought her food and candles, kept her as comfortable as I could. That's-- that's why I kept stealing your food. I never actually thought you were fat." Weak as it was, he was glad to be able to make any sort of lighthearted comment before he had to continue.

"Strangely, Merlin, I figured that one out on my own." Arthur shoved Merlin gently and then dragged him into his side. Merlin had a soft heart. That was his problem, not so much a flaw as a pitfall, one they would all have to be careful of. Merlin cared too much for his own damn good and it was clear from his tone that this story wasn't going to be one that ended with Merlin sneaking out of the castle at odd hours to go and visit his lady friend somewhere in the woods.

And no, he wasn't jealous of a druid girl who wasn't even in this universe, let alone city or time. He resolutely was not. "So, what you're saying is, you romanced this girl beneath the castle while the whole of the city was searching for her?"

Arthur's closeness was warm, comforting, which clashed horribly with the guilt and sorrow. He didn't ask how Arthur knew his relationship with Freya had gone beyond friendship. It must have showed in his eyes or words, and as Arthur had said, he knew him only too well these days. And truth be told, he was relieved that he wouldn't have to say it first. He nodded. "She was-- she was so scared, Arthur. Of the world, of herself. She was terrified and helpless and alone, and most of all, she understood. Back then... Gaius knew, but he didn't understand. As much as he tried to, as much as he cared... it wasn't always enough. With Freya... I could be who I really am. We were safe, with each other. I'd-- I'd never had that before." He hadn't realized the tears had gathered until his voice cracked.

Merlin was breaking under Arthur's hands. He could feel the slight tremors long before Merlin seemed aware of them himself. Out of depth and uncomfortable as he was, Arthur couldn't let Merlin continue on like this. No matter what the end of the story. He could make conjectures of his own. People probably thought he was interminably thick when he wasn't. Arthur understood more than people gave him credit for. He ran his thumb under Merlin's eye, catching the tears that hadn't quite shed over this girl, this girl Merlin had loved in a way Arthur could only imagine. It wasn't so much the physical person as the idea of that person and the timing.

It was hardly fair. "What happened to her?"

Instinctively, Merlin leaned into the touch. It filled something in him, seeing Arthur so willing to comfort him while he cried over another love. When he was finished with this, when his mind and heart weren't so stormy, maybe he would think more on how remarkable that was. "We knew she wouldn't be safe under the castle forever," he began, "so we came up with a plan. We would disguise her, and she could escape once night had fallen. I took Morgana's dress to bring to her, so that she could be taken for a noblewoman. And then... she would run away from Camelot." Honesty couldn't go halfway. He moved from Arthur's hand, making himself admit, "I was going to go with her."

Arthur made to grab Merlin by the chin and froze, caught and suddenly lacking breath among other things. Could he even picture it? Waking up one morning with Merlin missing and no one knowing where he had gone? He could imagine his father catching wind of it and the lack of reaction it would garner. How he would apologize without meaning and assign some other servant to Arthur's rooms and it would not be anywhere near the same. He could still easily see Morgana's face, hear her desperation when Guinevere was kidnapped and he couldn't picture himself reacting the same he.

He couldn't picture Merlin gone long enough to have to form that kind of reaction. "You would have come back." Except he might not have, but it was obvious something had stopped Merlin. And the longer Merlin delayed, the sadder his voice became the more clear the picture became, though the how of it eluded him. He jerked his head for Merlin to continue.

Merlin hated it, hated the sudden desperation in Arthur's eyes and hated knowing he had hurt him. Even if they hadn't had what they did now, that he would have been willing to leave Arthur alone and unprotected, to give up his destiny... it was a near-decision that shocked even himself sometimes. But he couldn't apologize for it either. Maybe he would have returned, eventually. But he had loved her and he would have gone, and he couldn't apologize for that. "She was cursed," he went on, eventually. "At each midnight, she became a Bastet. A beast like a large panther with wings." He looked at Arthur. Did he need to go on? Arthur would know, from there, how the story ended.

"I wounded that creature." Arthur blurted it out without pausing to think on the implications. It killed four people and would likely have harmed more. He hadn't had a choice and he was desperate to prove the worth of it. Because it had been killing and it needed to be stopped. "It was a clear blow."

All of which spelled a young girls untimely death and Merlin polishing more boots than Arthur thought he had even owned. In fact, Arthur was certain half of those boots weren't even his, so where Merlin found them all was something of a mystery. That he had managed to make Merlin smile, even laugh as strained and tired as it had been, looked like a miracle in the face of that story.

Merlin gave a single nod, the tears sliding down freely now. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. "A gargoyle fell, nearly on you. That-- that was the closest I have ever come to harming you. With my magic or otherwise." He sucked in a breath. Funny how the guilt of that moment was just as strong as every other bit of emotion his memories envoked. "I knew you would move in time, I only needed to distract you. But it was so close, such a stupid, selfish risk, and I'm-- I'm so sorry for that." Merlin wiped his eyes again. Quickly as they had come, the tears started to slow as his story came to an end. "I took her to a lake, to be free one more time, just before she-- she was gone. She had always loved lakes."

Arthur shook his head slowly as if pushing his way through a thick fog and grabbed Merlin by the chin, tipped his head back and kissed him at an angle that was mostly impossible and sore, oh so sore. Arthur felt his neck tensing at the base and could see the tendons of Merlin's stand out starkly against pale skin. It wasn't gentle, neither was it rough, it was an outpouring of everything Arthur couldn't articulate because he didn't understand any of it.

"How do you manage?" Arthur asked.

Of all the responses Merlin thought he would get from Arthur, this hadn't been one of them, not even close. But he took it, drank it in as the tears on his cheeks slipped to Arthur's, as his heart scrambled to figure out whether it was okay to feel relieved, or if it should grow heavier. "Manage what?" he asked after a long moment of breathing, just breathing, face still close to Arthur's.

"Existing." Surely someone of Merlin's stature and structure would have collapsed by now, had a meltdown or ten and threatened quitting or worse, and yes, running away with a girl he knew two days probably qualified, but he didn't stay gone and he could have and had Arthur found all of this out he would have been furious, yes, but he would have also understood why and probably sent Merlin home on sabbatical.

Merlin laughed, a little weakly. His heart was starting to lean in the direction of relieved. "It-- it helps to remember I have a reason to. An important reason."

"And what reason is that?" The sight of Merlin's face wet and wrecked left Arthur squirming in distress without being able to budge. He hated being trapped by something of his own making and this conversation, though overdue, was his fault.

Even if Merlin felt he didn't have the right, somehow, it was the best way he knew to answer the question. Though he was sure Arthur already knew the answer. He turned to make it more comfortable this time, and leaned in to kiss Arthur again lightly. "What do you think?"

Arthur swept his fingers through Merlin's hands, catching at the strange little curls at the base of Merlin's neck and then sliding his hand back around to frame his face. "I think you were a fool not to run sooner."

At his words, Merlin felt tears press against his eyes again, the force of them almost painful. But there was so much acceptance there, so much of the very understanding Merlin had craved his entire life, from Arthur most of all. And here it was. Crying was the only choice. He shook his head, unable to form words of his own. "Couldn't..." was all he said. "Couldn't."

"Such a crybaby." It wasn't even much of a jibe. Arthur wiped at the tears that were freely coming with his hands, thumbs tracing over the damp arch of Merlin's cheekbones and gave a soft sigh. "Come here." He wound his arm around Merlin's shoulder and pulled him into a hug.

Merlin choked out a laugh and fell easily into him. He wished more than anything that his left arm wasn't so useless, because one arm could not get him as close to Arthur as he needed. Still, he tried, pressing his face against Arthur's neck and holding on as tight as he could with that one arm.

Arthur rubbed Merlin's back in small, soothing circles, dropping a kiss to the top of his head like that was the natural thing to do, and perhaps in this situation it was. "I never would have let you get far."

"Thank you," Merlin whispered. It didn't say everything, not nearly. But if he tried to say everything, he'd never, ever stop. He had never loved Arthur more than he did in that moment. That much was certain.

Asking for what was like poking a barrel of angry snakes and then opening the lid. Arthur merely shrugged, nodded and kissed Merlin slowly as if that would satisfy. When he pulled away there was a definite gleam in his eyes. "Should we play a game?"

Dizzy and warm, Merlin offered him a smile. Almost a grin. He nodded. "I'd love that," he answered, moving his good hand to Arthur's and squeezing it briefly.