tampered | A moment of truth sort of thing

Entry tags:

A moment of truth sort of thing

When; 5th April, late afternoon?
Rating; PG
Characters; Merlin and Arthur Pendragon
Summary; Merlin has been very jumpy lately and Arthur finally asks why. Time for Merlin to suck it up and reveal his secret.
Log;

Merlin doesn't think it would be fair to blame him for being basically a bundle of nerves ever since Arthur got to the City, with the exception of that night he went out drinking and the day after that because he had been too exhausted to be a bundle of nerves on top of it all. But otherwise, it really hasn't been fun and he's been lying awake at night wringing his hands and pondering. Not that he's not doing the same during most waking hours too, even when busy.

Like when moving around the kitchen trying to whip together food of some sort. It's not easy to do so when his mind keeps sidetracking from thinking of ingredients and where to find things, and it takes all his brainpower to focus on not getting sidetracked.

So when he turns around and catches sight of Arthur (when the hell did he get there?!), he almost drops the flour package in his hand and manages to knock over a bowl.

"Arthur!" he exclaims as he flails to try and catch it, though he doesn't succeed and just knocks his head into the cupboard he apparently didn't close. "Ow--"

Welp.

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"Merlin--" Arthur stares in stunned surprise as the half flailing, bumbling, idiot knocks himself out on the cupboard. Well, now he knows something is definitely up.

"Merlin, you... What are you doing?" Striding over, he lays the nearest thing at hand to Merlin's temple, an ice cold water bottle straight from the fridge. It was truly the one amenity he actually took a liking to in this place and the only one worth venturing into the kitchen full of strange looking devices and the microwave he had nearly burned to a crisp the week before (No one was ever, ever going to hear of that, by the way). But even so, he didn't think it would be that much of a surprise that he'd be in said kitchen that Merlin had to go and knock himself out.

He'd wonder if Merlin wasn't cursed except he's seen what the curse did to people today. Pure madness, really and a very good reason not to venture out of doors. Except there's still the problem of Merlin of course. What in the world was he going to do with the boy?

Well, it's certainly not the first time Merlin has done something rather clumsy (even for him) since Arthur got here, so he honestly doesn't think the surprise is necessary. (Or the option of a curse, if he could read minds.) So he scowls at Arthur's question, quite disapprovingly and is just about to place his hand on his temple when there's suddenly cold instead.

Which he almost jerks back from out of surprise, but he manages to stays put and a moment later puts on a bit of a sheepish expression.

"Erm... Cooking?" he offers and raises the flour to their eye-level before he puts it away on the counter. Then he moves to grab onto the water bottle himself. "Thanks."

Surprise is always necessary when the mere sight of one Arthur is enough to make Merlin flinch. He's not that strange looking in modern clothing, is he? (It's a good thing he's not wearing sweat pants, wonderful invention that it is).

"Cooking, right. And you were just planning to bleed all over the food were you?" Not that he can see any blood, but he knows how these things work! Arthur's certainly had his fair share of head blows.

Well. Arthur is rather funny-looking in modern clothing, he is. But Merlin imagines it's quite the same for him (even if he pretty much keeps the same style), so it would hardly be that. It's just something to get used to.

"I figured it might give a... special sort of taste," he says, grinning.

A metallic taste, perhaps, which would probably not be very nice. What kind of thing is that to think about anyway? Right.

Arthur rolls his eyes and pads back to the refrigerator, snagging another bottle of water out of the bowels of the beast. "You would feed that to me too." He laughs and shakes his head as he turns to give Merlin a long, contemplative look as he twists the cap off his bottle. He does so love this invention. It's such a clever little thing. But regardless of his fascination with the water bottle, he has an equal, if not even more pressing fascination with Merlin's... rather odd behavior.

"So why are you so jumpy? You've been like this for days, now."

Arthur's ever the blunt one. It's such a shame he's asking more out of idle curiosity (Although he was still troubled by the fact Merlin thought he had to go out drinking the other night. There had to be more to it then simple camaraderie. No man gets that drunk without a reason. Usually.)

Ah... There it is. The moment Merlin has both been fearing and hoping to come, the moment where Arthur would finally ask what the hell's wrong with him. Because he knows he's acting unlike himself and while he's not sure he could have helped it, he almost wonders if it has a little to do with wanting Arthur to (sort of, unknowingly) breach the subject more than having it come completely out of the blue.

It feels like there's more of a connection, this way. But that thought has been subconscious, and it only just hits him now.

Along with the question of whether this is sooner or later. Because Fred had said "sooner rather'n later". But it doesn't really matter, because he can't go back and make it sooner anyway.

He lowers the hand holding the bottle and fidgets with the cap of it, glancing over at the flour. Well... Food will have to wait, especially because the kitchen really doesn't feel like an ideal spot for this.

"I..." Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to go on before he can back out. "I need to tell you something. Something important. So could we go to... your room or something?"

Edited 2012-04-05 21:11 (UTC)

Arthur raises his brow and swallows before settling the bottle of water at his hip. "So you have been keeping something back. I knew it." He's just not sure if he should be proud of his powers of deduction or simply miffed that Merlin waited until Arthur had to ask before admitting anything.

He shoves himself off the counter and gestures. "Fine, my chambers, ten minutes. You better not make me wait!" He's already waited long enough, really. And it's not like this kitchen is going to clean itself up either. Still, without a backward glance, he leaves the room. What Merlin (hopefully) doesn't know, is Arthur pauses just outside the door to make sure he's being followed. It's not concern it's just... well, Arthur's been stood up a time or two before and he's not letting Merlin get out of this one!

Not after that expression.

Ten minutes?

To Merlin, that seems like both an awful lot of and too little time. But he just nods, without another word, and then goes to put the flour and whatever else there is back into their place. He has no idea how long that conversation will take, so it's just as well, in case...

And then he follows Arthur out, absently rubbing his temple and still holding the bottle with his other hand. How should he even say it? Should he be completely blunt, or... Or...

God, he doesn't know.

Stop... looking like that. It's making it hard for Arthur to beat a hasty retreat up the stairs because he'd much rather just march right back in, throw a stink, and wait for Merlin to start smiling again. Or at least fighting back. Mopey Merlin just... wasn't really Merlin.

Taking the steps two at a time and sparing only a small glance over his shoulder, Arthur dives into his bedroom, looking around to make sure the place was neat and... Well, what do you know. It is. Looks like Merlin has been keeping himself busy much to Arthur's chagrin. Flopping into a chair, he looked around the room once more.

Maybe he shouldn't make Merlin do all the work. He did have a job. Not that Arthur minded, but, well... One thing at a time. He'll just fiddle with his water bottle until Merlin gets up there. It's about all he can do, for the moment.

Hey, Merlins are allowed to mope when they need to mope. But he'll probably try to smile soon enough, at least a little, because that is what he does.

He takes the time to try to think of a good way to say it, but when he can't postpone it any longer and still hasn't thought of anything that feels good, he just takes a deep breath and heads into Arthur's room. Oh, hey, he does have that water bottle still in his hands, so he'll actually take a sip.

Since his voice turned dry.

Okay...

Figures he would forget every single approach he thought of.

Oh good grief, awkward silences. Arthur was never very good with those.

"So... Merlin. What was it you couldn't tell me downstairs? This had better be important."

Best to get it over with, before he crushes his own bottle in half and spews water all over himself and the borrowed desk. Then he'll really be at a loss for words. For about fifteen seconds.

Of course it's important. It's the most important thing Merlin would ever tell Arthur in their whole lives, he's sure. And he's not even certain it's the right time for it, but he has to and that thought just makes him all the more uncomfortable about it.

Even if he won't risk execution with it.

He licks his lips, shifts his weight and takes a deep, slow breath. Now or never... If he doesn't do it now, he honestly never will, and this is better. Better than if Arthur sees it for himself instead without Merlin meaning him to or... something.

"I almost told you back in Ealdor," he starts with, shuffling his feet and peering carefully at Arthur, keeping his chin lowered. "But we were interrupted, if you remember. I thought you were going to discover it anyway, I mean the chances were pretty big, so... I figured I might as well. And then Will..." He makes a vague gesture with his hand and swallows. "Covered for me. He told me that I should tell you or you wouldn't really be a friend, so I didn't expect him to, but I guess he understood after all. It's..."

He shakes his head, and glances away for a moment but finally raises his chin to look at Arthur properly. Even if he would rather look away. It just feels wrong to.

"Will lied. He wasn't the one who conjured that wind. It... It was me. I'm the sorcerer."

Edited 2012-04-10 05:21 (UTC)

Once in a while, there are some truths that are so big that not even the Great Prince Arthur can handle them. This, of course, is one of them and it's completely unfair. And of course laughable which is what he does. Laugh that is.

"Oh, come on, Merlin. we all know you don't have a magical bone in your body. Do you really think I really wouldn't have noticed--"

"Wait, you're completely serious, aren't you?" He'd know that look anywhere on Merlin. the shifty eyes, the not quite looking him in the eye before he does. Merlin looked like Arthur was going to march him to the guillotine for crying out--

Frowning, Arthur stood up, pacing over to the window and trying to think without having to face that puppy eyed look Merlin was throwing at him. He really hated moments like these. If his father was here... No, there was no mercy in Uther where magic was concerned. Arthur needed no reminders of that when memories of Guinevere's tear stained face were still fresh in his mind. What they had done to her father had been, well, it was a great loss to the kingdom.

So, no, he couldn't, wouldn't do that. It was the absolute only thing he was certain of at the moment; the second being that, much as he hated to admit it, Merlin's story was plausible. Merlin had most certainly been acting strange that entire trip even though his village was about to be destroyed. Of course, that didn't really explain why young Will had to cover for him. Unless...

"Oh good grief." Arthur turns on his heel and stares at Merlin, his voice sharp and crisp and annoyed beyond all reason. "Just how many people know about this? Your entire village? Does Gaius know? Anyone else at the castle?"

Alas, poor Yorick. Arthur doesn't think he knows Merlin at all anymore.

While Arthur lets it sink in, Merlin just stands still, looking unsure and kind of wringing his hands. He had expected disbelief as the first reaction, because that's the only one Arthur's had whenever Merlin being a sorcerer was brought up (when he tried to save Gwen, when Aredian pointed him out as a suspect...), so of course it would be the same now. But this time he won't deny it, so Arthur will have to understand it's true.

And when he does, and walks over to the window, Merlin swallows thickly and stays still as much as he has an urge to... go somewhere, and just keeps clenches his hands around the bottle, shoulders drawn up and tense. The worst part is that he still has no idea what to expect, because it could go in so many different ways, and his heart is beating all the way up in his throat out of fear that it will go really bad.

At the same time that he wants Arthur to turn around already and say something and break this heavy silence, he also doesn't, because he doesn't want to know what will happen then, but at the same time he does because he's been waiting for this, damn it--

He raises his hands, with the bottle, and presses them to his forehead for a moment, shifts on his feet. It's that moment he sees Arthur move, so he lowers them again, and flinches just slightly at the tone.

So... this might get ugly.

He licks his lips, and takes a deep, shaky breath. "No, not my whole village, but... my mother does, as does Gaius, and Lancelot caught me using it once... Then there's the Druids and other magic users, I guess. But that's it."

Stormy silence follows as Merlin's words sink in and fill the air. Well, that certainly answered that question and with little to no hesitation too.

"I see."

He's stalling, unwilling to believe it all.

"And I suppose you thought it was funny then, letting me stick up for you, letting me believe you were normal this whole time? I trusted you with my life."

And, on some level, Arthur still did, would. Merlin was a good man to have around.

Now that isn't quite what he expected to hear. Just... what?

"Funny? No, how could I-- No." He shakes his head, presses his lips together for a moment and swallows again. "Of course not. I wanted to tell you, always did, it just... It's just difficult. The law said it would have me executed, Arthur, and you're the prince, how could I just tell you?"

Honestly, he really thinks it should be really bloody obvious, but apparently Ginny had been right in saying it's a good idea to make sure they understand the reason for it. How hard can it be?

Well that's the problem. He does understand it and can't but feel he's an ass for going along with it, for knowing Merlin would be dead in a heart beat if anyone actually knew.

But that's the problem.

People did know.

"Well, I guess we'll never know then, won't we? You could've at least, I don't know, given me a clue? You seem to have no problems letting Lancelot in on your little secret."

He is not jealous. Not jealous. ~~Screw it, yes he is.~~

Oh, for the love of-- Did Arthur not listen to a word he said? This bloody idiot.

"I didn't let Lancelot in on it. He saw me, because I helped him... I helped him kill that griffin. He didn't know I was going to." He sighs heavily and runs his fingers through his hair. And then, he looks Arthur straight in the eyes and doesn't waver at all for the first time this conversation. "But, alright, what if I had 'given you a clue', what if you figured it out yourself. What would you have done then?"

If Arthur really wouldn't have outed him, then he can at least feel a little guilty even if there's no way he could have known and that gamble is a little dangerous, but if not... Well, then Arthur should see his point.

He says it without hesitation. "I would have sent you back to your village and no one would have been the wiser. It's easy enough to fabricate a reason to dismiss you. You aren't exactly the greatest at your work, you know."

Oh.

So that's what he would have done. That makes him feel a little better even if life would have been one giant drag after another. There really was no better entertainment then Merlin stewing in the stocks or beating him up at target practice or "teaching" him how to wield a sword without cutting himself to shreds.

He'd miss that.

Oh.

Well.

It's not an execution, but at the same time it's far from what Merlin would have wanted. In fact, that's not good at all, and his expression falls from slight annoyance to disappointment, and sadness, and he looks away again.

"And if I refused to leave?" he asks.

Because there's no way he would have left for that reason.

Arthur's now seriously at a loss and his expression shows it. Shouldn't that have made Merlin happy? Shouldn't he be... glad that he wasn't seeing the wrong end of a bonfire or an executioner's ax?

"Well, we can't exactly have you stay in the castle. If my father found out you'd be dead and not even I can get you out of that one." And Arthur is distinctly uncomfortable with the idea of even trying.

It is his father.

"Wouldn't you like to live with your mother again? Although I will admit, the food at the castle is much, much better."

Merlin actually snorts at that and rolls his eyes. No kidding the food in the castle is better. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

"If I really cared so much about that I would still be living with her. I don't belong there anymore, my place is in Camelot and I... really can't see myself living anywhere else, anymore." A pause. "Besides, I've been living in the castle for years without being caught so, really, I could keep at it even if you knew."

His tone almost reads something like a dare of a sort.

Arthur snorts, relaxing a little without even knowing he was losing a little bit of that tenseness in his shoulders, in the rigidity of his stance. It was almost like old times, and not the old times of an hour ago. More like the old times of several weeks ago before he was thrown into the City and made a cuckold of himself with that damn lamp post.

"You've said it yourself; Lancalot knows and if one man knows, more will soon follow. You shouldn't take risks like that. You're not that smart." Except in all the right ways and in all the right times.

But let's not get into that. Arthur can only handle one thought in his head at a time.

"That's what my mother said about Will," Merlin says, with perhaps surprising bitterness, and shakes his head. "And I'll take risks like that if I have to. I didn't think he would notice, and that thing needed to die and only magic could kill it, so what was I supposed to do? And the closer I am to you, the better."

He crosses his arms and looks at Arthur once again. He wouldn't have left Camelot, and he wouldn't have left the castle. Simple as that.

"Not like I ever listen to you anyway."

"And she's a surprisingly wise woman who you would be far better listening to then not!"

Arthur paused and then stalled, taking a drink of his water and taking his time with it despite his thirst. He only had the one bottle and however much he'd rather have a tankard of ale or mead in hand, he'd make do with what he had. Or, well, there's choking too as Merlin slides in that last line. It's almost as though he had waited just for that moment to speak.

"Merlin." He sputtered, coughing. "You'll leave if I tell you to! And if you don't listen to me, I'll have you thrown in the dungeon's for insubordination and dragged out of town."

He'll do it too, if it ever meant saving Merlin's life.

Well, it was a moment a little too good to pass up.

That response isn't quite what Merlin can say he expected, though. So he widens his eyes and gapes in disbelief, trying to find words. Right, so Arthur may be the prince and all, but--

"You can't do that!"

Which really isn't enough to convince Arthur at all and he knows that, but...

Arthur crosses his arms and smiles knowingly. "Oh? And now you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do? I think this magic nonsense has gone to your head a bit, Merlin."

"Yes, in fact, I can." Merlin can cross his arms better! "Besides, you're one to talk about letting things go to your head!"

Oh great Prat Prince of Camelot.

"I'm a prince. There has to be some perks to the job."

Whatever. Arthur's crossed arms are the only ones that count in this situation. Get thee back to the kitchen! Before Arthur actually has to throw something.

Uhm, how about no? You throwing things at him are certainly no news.

"Doesn't mean you have to constantly take advantage of them. And you're no more prince than I am here, not really." So, hah. They are equal!

Arthur rolls his eyes. "We were talking about what I'd do back home. Try not to be a complete idiot today. You've certainly already shown enough of that." With the spectacle earlier that is. The flour truly was a nice touch.

...

Merlin just. Scrunches his nose, and makes a few vague, flailing motions with his hands, huffing. "Whatever. But I wouldn't. Leave." And that is just the end of this discussion.

...not that he knows what it even matters, in the end, that isn't just principle.

Edited 2012-04-13 20:36 (UTC)

Uh, oh. Merlin did not just say that. "You will if I say so!"

But of course it's not the end of the discussion because this is Arthur and Arthur can never leave a discussion when he hasn't had the last word! So, obviously, this will go on forever.

Well.

Merlin's not in a rush.

"I won't."

"Don't make me repeat myself. You will do exactly as I say and that is that."

Except, of course, that he did repeat himself. Excessively. Semantics were never Arthur's strong point. He much preferred to let his actions speak for themselves rather then his diplomacy.

Merlin, however, decides that repeating himself is unnecessary because he figures he's done it enough now. Instead, he shows his defiance through body language; crossing his arms again, raising his chin and pressing his lips together.

Honestly, if he would have to use magic to let Arthur stay, he would. It was more important that he could protect Arthur.

He would definitely prefer not to, however. He would like for Arthur to let him stay to just trust him to not get into trouble. The fact that Arthur wouldn't have him executed definitely means something, and Arthur had used the word "risks", so it's not about keeping a sorcerer away from him.

It's because Arthur would want to protect him.

And, at least, that is a very reassuring thought, even if he's not sure it makes the magic issue much better.

Oh, going the intimidating route? Well, two can play at that game as Arthur steps up, staring Merlin right in the eye and...

"This is getting ridiculous. Even if I wanted to save you from yourself, it does no good to have this conversation here."

He steps back and gives Merlin a critical look because, well... "You haven't actually told anyone you can use magic, have you? Here, I mean." He's not sure, but a few things were definitely suspicious. Such as Merlin's popularity. Unnerving is what it was.

...well. That is true.

It's an utterly useless conversation, especially considering that at Arthur's point of time it will be a long time before he finds out anyway. Years. Despite how he doesn't think Arthur has a say in how he protects himself, at least not that far, this conversation is truly ridiculous.

So he shrugs, softens his expression a little and shifts on his feet as he drops his arms back to his sides. And he offers a smile.

"We're known names around here. King Arthur and Merlin. The Weasleys and their world know me as the most powerful wizard who ever lived. There are plenty of people who know by default, it seems, and I've told more here than back home because it won't get me killed, but I don't go around shouting it to the world."

And if he has to, he does it vaguely. Yep.

Arthur shakes his head and plops down behind his desk again, unscrewing the cap to his water bottle, stalling. "And you probably survived because I had the good sense to keep you from killing yourself. And that's not to say you still won't end up dead if, say, my father were to come here and find out?"

He takes a drink and then looks up at Merlin with a, well, with a rather peculiar expression on his face. "Just promise me you'll be careful? You're the only servant I've got right now."

Merlin snorts, disbelieving, and visibly rolls his eyes. Right, because Arthur had the good sense to keep him from killing himself. Whatever that's supposed to mean. It's not his effort at all, nope.

Only servant...

That translates to "only friend", does it not?

"I've lived in Camelot for years without getting killed. I think I'll be fine here."

Stop putting words in his mouth. He says exactly what he means.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Arthur shakes his head and then nods to the door. "Now don't you have some chores to be seeing to?" Then again, perhaps Arthur would be better put to beating up a dummy.

Right. Of course. Because it's not like Arthur has any issues whatsoever.

At least, Arthur's telling him to go deal with chores rather than just get out of his sight, which is good. He... might want to take that as a success, or something like that, and it's probably best to leave Arthur to... do whatever he needs to do. Think, probably.

So he bows his head, and leaves without a word.

And think he does with a thud of his head on the desk. He couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe it. Because that would mean he's trusted his life, had defended Merlin's life all for the sake of a lie.

There was just one problem. Deep in his gut, Arthur knew he had no choice but to accept it. Merlin was still, undoubtedly, Merlin after all.

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A moment of truth sort of thing

I have no icon that can appropriately show his concern right now

Pfft /patpat

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