Merlin 1. Prologue

**A/N: I got the idea for this fic while watching one of those soaps on Tv. This is just the prologue. I don't know if I should continue but I'll post this up for you and see how you guys liked it. **

**A/D: I DEFINATELY do not own Merlin or any of the characters you see on Tv. I do, however own the storyline, plot and OCs.**

"_I give you two options: The first, cast a spell onto me. If I can't repel it, I will let him go and he will forget everything about this-even you. The second, you become mine without a fight and he will wake up in Camelot, as if this never happened." The sorcerer said this with a leer._

_Merlin's eyes flashed in anger. What sort of 'options' were those? He knew he had no way of defeating him; he was a creature with a years of knowledge in him. Even with the look of deepest loathing that he was throwing him, he wasn't even flinching. All he did was just stand there with a silly grin on his face. The only thing that kept Merlin from going over and ripping his face from his flesh was the figure in his arms. _Arthur_. The name resounded in his head. Stroking his cold cheek, he suddenly realised that a warm droplet had fallen on the back of his hand._

_He knew what he had to do now. He'd known it all along. "Stupid prat." Smiling sadly he bent down and kissed him long and hard on the lips. "I love you." He breathed softly against icy lips. Choking slightly with even more tears, the brunette continued. "Even if you'll never remember me."_


	2. Voices in my head

**A/N: I have replaced the original chapter with this one. No particular reason. Just thought that this one was a little better than the first. But if you prefer the old one, drop me a line.**

Arthur awoke from his dream with a strange feeling blossoming in his chest. Ruffling his hair in a frustrated way, he slowly climbed out of bed carefully as to not arouse the person who'd been sleeping next to him last night. He must have been pretty ass drunk because he couldn't remember anything at all. The prince had had always made it a point to remember his bed partner for the night in the morning-even if the person was just a lowly scullery maid. The current bed warmer was a young lady with chestnut locks and smooth milky skin.

Silently, he went to the window seat. Lately the cold stones underneath the pillowed seat felt more comfortable than any padded chair in Camelot. For some strange reason, Camelot's heir found himself there more often than not. Sitting down and staring out to the still inky blue skies, he struggled to recall the dream that had evoked those queer feelings in him. As the horizon line glowed and shone with the golden rays of the morning sun, from his dream Arthur had only vaguely managed to remember soft lips against his and..... '_Athur...'_ Strangely enough, the voice did not belong to anyone he knew and to be more specific, not to any lady in the world.

Not bothering to wait for his manservant Harold (the idiot was probably still in slumber land), he dressed and quickly went down to the kitchens. Deciding to skip his breakfast, he went straight for the stables. Calling for the groom, he told the still sleep crusted ginger to saddle his horse. The boy was obviously displeased with the unwelcomed early call, but said nothing of it. 'Which is wise considering I could probably put him at the stocks-'

The stocks. Why did the word trigger a sense of fond familiarity in him? Frowning ever so lightly, he tried with no avail to remember. He thought he almost had it when the boy shook him out of his reverie.

"What?" Arthur demanded sharply, blue eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Yer horse Sire. She's prepped and ready." Jerking his thumb to the stables behind him. Taking a deep breath, he hastily thanked him, swung himself deftly onto his steed, and rode off in the morning sun.

'What's happening to me?!'

His mind screamed the same question again and again. Why was everything, down to the tiniest detail reminded him, haunted him of something that he couldn't for the life of him remember? Just the other day, Uther had caught his son staring at his boot. His dirt _strewn_, muck covered boot. When Harold asked him to relinquish it, he'd lashed out and told the poor servant to mind his own business. Uther had put it down to the stress that his only son had to face as the one and only heir to the Camelot throne, but the said person knew better. It hadn't been the first time. Before that was his drinking cup, and the time before that was his crown and the time even before that was his shirts. He knew of the whispers that went on behind closed doors.

Arthur Pendragon was losing it. And he had to agree. He _was _losing it, but what? What was he losing or had lost already?

He drove his steed as far as it would go until they both came to an exhausted stop at a quiet glen. Somehow, the horse knew where to go instinctively. Seeing as the mare needed the rest, his disembarked. The moment his feet touched the ground, he felt to say the least, expectant. Somehow, he expected to see _someone._

_Arthur_

_Arthur Pendragon_

It was the voice again. Here, beneath the shades, it was unmistakably male. Unpredictably tempting. To him, the sudden call of his name drew images of summer strawberries, warm nights and a smile. A goofy, wide, trusting smile. A smile that lit up the dark crevices of his soul.

"Who are you?" He called out immediately. "Where are you?" His clear eyes searched the glen. His sword was at his side but for some reason, he did not feel threatened by the presence of the glen. Arthur felt entirely and utterly at peace in the centre of its heavy silence. "What are you?"

His clear orbs searched desperately around the greens. The light filtered through the holes in the trees, leaving bright patches where they landed. When the voice did not speak again, he walked deeper into the glen where the grass grew higher and higher until their tips gently tickled his bare forearm. Arthur felt his heart beat quicken at the sight of an oak tree in the distance. As he approached it, the blonde felt a sense of happiness and utter bliss that was both foreign and familiar to his body. Touching the base and feeling the wooden cracks with the tips of his fingers as he walked around again and again, he closed his eyes. Slowly, as if they'd been hiding somewhere in the back of his mind, waiting to be called upon again, images shuffled against his mind's eye.

"_This is our place. This will be our world. Where no one can touch us." He felt himself smile at the person in his arms. Gently caressing their skin with his finger, he kissed their full red lips. He'd loved the person ever since he'd laid eyes on him all those months ago. When they finally consummated their relationship just moments ago, he realised that the feeling he felt in the height of his euphoria was the feeling of love. Arthur now knows how love feels._

_He'd been afraid to touch him. So unsure and utterly terrified that he'd hurt them in someway or another. However, with a reassuring smile and a tender touch of ghosting fingertips, he was told that it would be alright. When they'd found their release and he took himself out of them, he felt a piece of himself left behind in whatever heaven they'd achieved together. The late afternoon sun warmed their tangled bodies as they drifted off to a welcomed darkness._

"_I love you, Arthur. Forever and ever." Arthur felt himself grin once again. Tightening his arms around their too skinny frame, he breathed softly against their raven locks._

"_I love you too-"_

"_I love you too-" _Screwing his face up in concentration, the prince struggled once more to remember. Whenever the word he seeks so desperately was on the edge of his tongue, it always vanished into oblivion and out of his reach. Finally, he gave up and slumped himself against the tree. Letting the soft breeze cool his skin, he took a couple of calming deep breaths. Who was this person? Why had he let them into his heart so easily? For the life of him, the young Pendragon didn't know the answer. Wearily, he closed his light blue orbs. Not before a tiny frustrated droplet slipped down his cheek.

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_I awoke to bright lights in my eyes. Squinting, my eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. Upon the realisation that I was naked as the day I came into the world, I gathered the sheets around me._

"_No point for modesty anymore. I've seen it all." _

_He said this with a drawl and a smile. I glared at him. It was true. I'd let him touch me, but I did not let him have the satisfaction of his name on my lips as I came._

Arthur

Arthur Pendragon

_I looked him in the eye as I said it. I could see flashes of purple in the midst of his green orbs. Smiling with dark satisfaction, I called out the name of my beloved. Even if he wasn't the man in me now, at least he will be the person I'm making love to in my mind. _

_No matter what he said or did, I still hated him vehemently with every fibre of my being. While he gave me better clothes than what I'd had previously, better food than what I'd ever eaten before in my life, the softest bed that I'd ever laid my head on and treated me like an equal, I still squirmed when he so much as brush his arm against mine. _

_I summoned my clothes with the ease of just a wave of a hand. I had to admit. That was probably the only thing I even remotely liked about the whole predicament. I could do magic without fear of persecution. Apprently this dimension that he'd dragged me off to did not have any obvious fear of magic. That at least was a small speck of happiness in the dark mess that I was in._

_He placed a tray on the bed and sat down. The bastard. He knew I hated it when he decides to watch me eat. I glared at him, but attacked the morsels anyway. While I chewed on my bread, he rattled on about what we were going to do today. I said nothing, only concentrated on the familiar motions of chewing, swallow, slice food, pick up food and stuffing food in mouth to begin again. When I was done, the tray disappeared automatically. I slipped out of bed and into the shower. _

_I wonder what green-eyes was doing now. The cold water washed away the dirt, grime and smell of sex on my body but not from my soul. I wondered why I didn't run from him or escape. Wondered why I never attempted it, why I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was true. He never hurted me. At least not in a violent non-consensual. I would've attempted to put up a fight if he did._

_He was always understanding and gentle with me. Even when we did it in bed. He never rushed it. He always took it slow and it was it felt like he wanted it for _me _more than he wanted it for himself. The corner of my mouth tweaked up a little when I remembered how he'd moved against me. And then, I was horrified. The sudden realisation hit me in waves._

_First wave; This wasn't the first time we'd done it. But this was the first time I'd actually _liked_ it._

_Second wave; I liked it._

_I actually _seriously_ liked it. The first time he'd taken me, I had been able to space my mind out of my body and let myself be 'guided'. Last night- last night I'd been there. There when he'd kissed me, there when he touched me, there when he murmured my name against my skin, there when _I _ca-_

_The knocks on the door almost made me slip on the slippery rock that smelled very nice. What had it been called? Sarp? Soaf?_

"_What?!" I called out, hoping that my voice wasn't cracking at all to betray my thought a mere moment ago._

"_Um... We need to- We need to get going in a few minutes if it's okay of course. With you." There was a pause. "I left some clothes outside. By the door. It's nothing fancy. Just something for you to go out in."_

_I didn't reply but got out of the shower anyways. My hands were starting to wrinkle. I opened the door slightly to reach out and grabbed the clothes._

_He was waiting for me in the hallway. I didn't approach him immediately but rather I slowly paced towards him. He was staring into a piece a strange paper with vivid colours. The look in his eyes was greatly confusing to me. He looked up and saw me and quickly stuffed the paper into his pockets. A smile grew on his face, as if he could throw me off the scent. "Hey. You're ready." Giving me a look over, he added, "It sure fits you."_

_I scowled but inside I felt pleased. The thing he had me put on was a white shirt that clung invasively to my torso, pants made of an odd blue material, a brown leather jacket that would've easily rivalled one of Arthur's-_

_Instantly my heart panged with the guilt. Was feeling this happiness a form of betrayal of my love to him? "Is something the matter?" He asks worriedly. I looked at him and for once, I did not see anything vile in him. I shook my head and tried on a smile. His dark green orbs glittered as he turned to unlock the door. _

_I did not flinch away as I would've normally done as he takes my hand and together we walked out into the bright morning sunshine of London._

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**A/N: So? How was it? I know I'm a terrible person to insinuate that Merlin could be in love with anyone other than our beloved prince. But I write the story, so there. Loads of cookies and lovely sugary things await those who review me, so hurry and tell me how I'd fared this time around! =3**


	3. Remember the red

"Where have you been Arthur? Everyone's been looking for you." Morgana chided. "Were you out playing Prince Charming again?" She smiled humorously at her childhood playmate. Only when she saw the redness at the rim of his eyes that she knew something was wrong. Taking the horse reins from Arthur, she handed them to a nearby soldier and said her orders. Placing her hand in his she brought him to the castle.

"Find my maid and tell her that I need her. _Now_." Morgana halted a passing manservant. Arthur's face was a mask of stone. Devoid of any emotion. Years of being each other's deepest confidante, archrivals, sibling and friend told her that something profound had happened and this wasn't good. The heir to Camelot's throne looked like a living breathing walking undead. "Tell her to bring us something to eat as well." She added as an after thought.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Morgana asked as they finished their pies. Gwen had arrived with pies and mead. Apparently, the Head cook was still busy trying to whip up dinner. Both ladies sat together on the bed while Arthur sat on the chair near the fireplace. Turning his head, he saw that the two wore very similar expressions of worry on their faces. Smiling slightly, he was grateful that someone was actually taking the time to worry about him.

Gently placing his plate on the stone floor, he kept a small smile on his face. "Only if you promise not to laugh or anything." Looking pointedly at both of them he added. "Both of you." When he got their nods, he took in a deep breath and begun his tale. Arthur told them of how, lately he'd been dreaming of someone that'd made his pulse race and his heart swell with happiness. He told them of how he'd found the garden and heard his name been called out as clear as day. Sighing deeply, he also told them about the oak tree, of how a memory he had no recollection of appeared as if it belonged to him. Surveying their reaction during a small pause, he added softly. "I don't think this person was a lady. I think it was a man." He said the last part with a swallow.

The revelation only made Gwen cock her head slightly and Morgana purse her lips. "So? Why should this bother you?" The brunette asked, trying very hard to suppress the note of frustration in her voice. "It's not like it's the end of the world or anything. So what if the person you so ardently desire was a man?" Arthur pursed his lips and turned his gaze towards the fire. The ladies looked at each other and then back towards their friend. The last time he'd been this sombre was when Uther had been gravely injured in a charge into enemy territories.

"There's something else isn't there?" Gwen approached Arthur slowly. "Sire? The fact that it is a man is not what bothers you. There's another reason." Placing a hand on his shoulder, she meant it as a nod of encouragement.

"It's the fact I can't-I ca-!" He grimaced frustrated and cradled his head in his hands, "It's like he's so real. Like he _breathed_. Like he wasn't a figment of my imagination! But...."He glanced up at Gwen's brown orbs. "I can't for the life of me remember. I can't remember him. Not all of him." Hugging his shoulders as rare tears began to form, Arthur continued softly. "I can see his smile. I can feel his skin. I-I can even _smell _him. He smells.." Smiling sadly, he continued to look into the fire. "He smells like herbs, berries and soap. Gwen, he's haunting me. Every time I try or even think of trying to avoid remembering him, I feel like something was ripping my heart open."

Gwen clasped her hands together in front of her dress. She'd never seen Prince Arthur this way before. Sure. The man's a royal prat alright. But this? Never in a million years would Gwen think that she'd live to see the day that Arthur would act like a mopy adolescent. Somehow, she felt for him. In some crazy way, Gwen found herself with tears in her eyes as well.

"Right now," Arthur laughed mirthlessly. "I feel-I know that everything in this entire place is wrong. Everything is wrong. Every single breath I take is wrong." Two droplets fell, darkening the material of his pants. "I-I...." He couldn't say anything else because he was enveloped in the embrace of his friend.

"I don't have any idea of what is it that's going on." Morgana whispered gently. "But I want you to know something." Cupping his cheek, she smiled. "Arthur. You _are _the biggest pain in the arse I have ever the fortune to meet. But you are the closest thing to me that remotely resembles a brother. I want you to know that whatever happens, whatever you need to talk about," Slipping her other hand into Gwen's she continued. "We're here for you. No matter what." Arthur managed a smile.

That night long after the ladies had left, Arthur sat on his favourite spot by the window. Staring up into the star strewn sky, he wondered if the person was staring up at the same view, he was looking at. Closing his eyes, he tried to revel in the silence.

_They're beautiful. Aren't they? _It was the voice again.

"Yeah." He found himself replying. "They sure are." Immediately, his eyes snapped open and blue eyes intensely scrutinised the room. "Is anyone there?" Arthur found himself calling out. "I won't harm you. I promise."

A creak of the door drew his attention to a flash of red that disappeared from his view. It didn't take him long to be on his feet and hot on the heels of this intruder. Arthur carefully stalked him in the corridor. It was strange because it seemed to the prince that the person was carefully treading in front of him and not at all eluding him. The flashes of red were always in sight, like a beacon. After awhile Arthur saw that it had altogether vanished. Looking around him, he gathered that he was right in front of Gauis's quarters. Why had he been brought here?

Upon the realisation that he was without a weapon, logical reason called for him to turn around and go back to his room. But something tugged upon the strings of his heart that told him to enter through the door. Gauis was evidently not in. The old man had kept everything in order and neatly arranged. Which was more than Arthur could say of himself. He was about to turn to leave when the foreboding sense of trespassing fell upon him, when the door at the end of the room swung slightly ajar. Taking a deep calming breath, he went over to it.

The room was more like a store rather than a room. Although it held a bed and a cupboard, its walls were piled high with herbs, books and a myriad collection of objects that Arthur had no desire to know more of. Giving the room a sweeping glance, his sight fell upon a red object illuminated by the slivery moonlight. Bending over, he found that it was a neckerchief. Arthur gave the cloth a tug, frowning when the object seemed to be stuck between the boards. Running his hand over the grainy texture of the wood, his finger found an opening and he began to pry at the loose board.

"What the-?" His amazement came from the discovery of a stack of letters, a box and a dry leaf. What were these things doing here? For some unfathomable reason, he had an inkling they did not belong to the old court physician.

Gathering the things into his arms, he placed the board over the hole and made a mad dash back to his room. Whatever that was written on those parchments, Arthur couldn't wait to read.

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**J: Sorry 'bout the emo Arthur. I wanted to try out a different side to him other than the whole macho hero persona. I know it wasn't much, but please, please, tell me how I did? Pretty please with sugar on top? **


	4. Hello Charles

**A/D: I ****DO NOT ****own Merlin. They belong to BBC. Bless them.**

**A/N: I've always wanted to do a crossover fic, but the notion to incorporate that in here never occurred until I was almost asleep. Don't the damn plot bunnies always come at such crappy timing sometimes?? You can choose to skip this chapter, but I'd advise you to read it. In this chapter, it'll be explained why Merlin had been kidnapped. Oh! And the incarnate evil has a name; Charlie (Readers go "WHAT??!!) Neways, you don't have to research the characters that I will write along the way from now. Some of them have shippers of their own already. Enjoy!**

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"Charlie boy!"

The blonde turned to see his friend smiling and jogging up to them. Returning her smile, he waved back. The brunette next to him had his hands stuffed down his pockets, looking at the newcomer with pure curiosity and interest. He couldn't see why anyone wouldn't be fascinated by Nymphadora Tonks or just Tonks as she calls herself. The woman was a walking rainbow of ever changing hair colours and physical features. Today, she had her trademark neon pink, short-cropped hair.

"Sorry to have kept you waiting. Shall we go now?" She grinned, a little out of breath. Craning over his shoulder, he couldn't help but to smile as her eyes widened considerably at the person with him. "So you're Merlin Emrys?? Wow! You're so cute!" Gushing she rung an arm over a very shocked and very blushing Merlin. He let her steer him in the course of the fair while he trailed behind but he didn't miss the comical 'Help-Me' look that he got from the young warlock.

Charles deBeumont was a very respected poet among his peers. He had the ability to control the Royal Psalms and was the last known living person who could actually do that without fear of consequences. Only in his early twenties, he'd already been nominated as one of the main choices to lead the magical kind into their age of glory. Named in Witch Weekly as one of _the_ Magical male being to marry, he naturally turned heads on the street with his long dark gold hair, dark emerald green eyes and lithe figure. Pushing his specs back onto the bridge of his nose, he ignored the look that a passing lady gave him.

"Let's go on this one first! No. Wait. That one looks more fun. That's the Scream-a-lot. They say you'll most definitely scream on that one! It's that scary!" Tonks laughed. Merlin looked alot like a helpless kitten. Charlie decided it was time he 'saved' him.

"C'mon now, Tonks. Don't bully him." Taking a puff from his cigarette, he rung his arm around the warlock's slighter figure. "He'll probably kill me later." He added with a small smile. It was true. Merlin Emrys _could _kill him if he wanted to. Charlie has been wondering why it's taking him so long.

--Four months ago--

It had been another invitation to one of those boring luncheons. Charlie was about to throw this one into the bin when Durand, his secretary, stopped him.

"Deon! No!" Grabbing the card from his hand and then smoothing the creases out. "Didn't you see whose name is written over here?"

"No."

"Sybill Trelawney. That's who!"

"Should I concern myself who this Sybill person is?" He lit his cigarette with the tip of his finger.

"Yes! She's only the most celebrated Seer of all time!" Durand flailed his hand. "Don't you care about anything at all?"

Giving him a long hard look and taking a drag, "No."

Durand's warm brown narrowed. "That's it! You're coming with me to this party." Charlie could've overpowered him easily, but nevertheless said nothing and nodded. It was best not to mess around with the taller man when he was like this.

And that was how things turn out the way it did, really. They'd been on the carpet, getting into the venue when suddenly everyone was in a frenzy. The camera shutters were going off and they made a sound like a million insect wings. Turning to see the commotion, Charlie saw that the person stepping out of a vintage Rolls-Royce was none other than the Madame Sybill. Wrapped in white fur and dripping with diamonds, she looked regal in every which way possible.

"Madame Trelawney! Madame Trelawney!!" The photographers cried out, attempting to trump each other in getting her attention. Smiling and waving, she paid no extra attention and walked pass them swiftly.

"She's something, isn't she?" Charlie turned to Durand. His friend had a star-struck look upon his face. Just then, the said person passed them and Charlie could've swore that she'd caught his eye and a flicker of recognition passed through her light orbs. No. He shook his head. It was just a trick of the eye.

The entire event was a bore. As expected. Charlie had literally burnt through half of his newly bought packet of cigs by the time the second course came out. That wasn't good. No. It wasn't good at all. Finally, feigning an excuse of having a guest back in his house, he left the table. Durand smiled and wished him good night. Inside, the blonde winced. He knew that smile and it usually meant that he had hell to pay for when he sees him in the morning.

"You."

He stopped short from entering his car. Looking back to see the owner of the voice, he was surprised to see Madame Sybill standing there with her arms crossed. Sauntering over with the swagger of a cat, she opened the passenger door and said, "Get in."

The dark interior of the car was silent, save for the low hum of the engine. The occasional passing street lamp illuminated the passengers. Charlie flicked an impatient look at the lady next to him. She was really getting onto his nerves. What's up with her anyways? What's her problem? And _why _in the name of everything that was good and true, did he let her follow him? This was his car for god sakes!

"Don't worry. I'm not here to trouble you, nor am I here to bring you trouble." Madame Sybill spoke suddenly. The light of the dashboard washed her features in an eerie glow. "You have a desire. Don't you? A desire for someone perfect for you to love."

What the hell did she mean by that?

"You want something Charles- or should I say Deon? That's what your sister called you isn't it? I believe her name was Lia... My, she was very beautiful."

He slammed his foot on the brakes. "Okay bitch. This has gone far enough." Turning to her, he snarled. "Tell me what you want and _leave_."

"Aren't you the touchy one?"

Madame Sybill didn't seem perturbed about all this. In fact, she smiled. "You want to love. You want someone to love. I can help you with that." When she didn't receive a reply, she continued. "Keep driving. I don't want to be roadkill on this deserted highway." Charlie didn't know what possessed him, but he shifted into gear and kept on driving.

"You don't particularly prefer women. That much is true. You just like your relationships short and clean. Nothing messy. But what you truly desire is for someone you can lavish your every single being on. You realised that there can be no one else for you besides the perfect mate. In fact, I should dare say you're getting desperate for the company." Her voice filled the cavity of the vehicle. Charlie kept his mouth shut. So far, _some _of the things that the loony was saying was kind of true. "The man you are soul mates with, however, doesn't belong in this universe. You'll have to travel to his universe to find him." Here, he snorted.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that, pray tell? There aren't exactly many dimension portals left open to the public in this world. 'Sides," He gripped his steering wheel. "How do I even know this fucking bullshit you are throwing at me is true?" Steely eyes met his in the dark.

"You don't have to, Deon. That's the beauty of it." Clenching and unclenching his jaw, he swerved into a street. He'd probably get enough tickets to bury him, but what did he care? It was a miracle he managed to park his car in the back of the venue that they'd left from.

"This is your stop. Now get out." He kept his eyes on the road.

It took her a minute, but she opened the door and stepped onto the asphalt pavement. Before closing the door, she opened her purse and placed a photograph on the passenger seat. "Think about it, Deon."

Oh yeah. Think.

It was three days before he actually saw the photo. He'd gone to pick up Aggy when he saw the it lying on the carpet. It was him, alright. He had this look upon his face that he'd never seen before. He actually looked happy. Next to him, looking very much embarrassed was someone whom he'd never seen before. He had the bluest eyes ever and a strange haircut that framed his sharp features. His dark locks were a little wayward as if they'd been messed with right before the shot was taken. Strangely enough, he found himself running a finger over the smooth surface of the picture.

"Papa? Who's that?" The little boy asked when he got in the car. Quickly putting the picture safely away in his breast pocket he smiled and ruffled his dark red locks. Although Anna had remarried, they'd still remained friends. It was mainly due to August. Their split had been unavoidable; Charlie had just not been emotionally involved in their relationship. And he never said otherwise.

"No one, Aggy." He said reassuringly to his son. "Now, how about some ice-cream?" Charlie sped off into the traffic with the man in the picture weighing heavily on his mind.

When Anna came in a few days, the man was still on his mind. In fact, he was practically in every dream, behind every door, in every shadow. "You sure look like shit." Anna said in a matter-of-fact way. She still looked beautiful, just like the day he'd met her. Bright blue eyes that seemed to sear right to the back of your eyes, dark red curls that she _always _kept up with a ribbon. The court had granted them both joint custody over August, although their 6 year old son lived with his mother on the weekdays and with him on the weekends and on holidays. It hadn't matter really. They lived 10 blocks away from each other.

"Yeah.. Well, thanks for pointing that out, captain obvious." He smiled a genuine smile. Long blonde hair had been tied up into a bun. Anna was one of those people he felt no need to pretend around.

"Where's Aggy?"

"Back yard. Goin bonkers over those damn bunnies." He sniffed.

Anna shrugged off her light beige coat and draped it over the leather sofa. "How's work coming along?"

"Good." Taking a cig he lit it and took a long drag.

"Deon..." Warning bells rang in his head.

"Yeah. Sorry..." Stubbing into the panda ashtray, he frowned. He'd needed that but it wasn't worth having Anna's wrath upon him. They'd agreed that he must not _ever _smoke in front or anywhere near Aggy. "It's just that it'd... It's been a hard week."

Plopping himself on the sofa, he kept his eyes on Aggy's little figure outside the screen door. He feelt the corners of his lips tweak upwards when he saw his son's eyes alight with excitement. Deep sea green eyes. So much a mirror of his.

"Anna?"

"Hrmm?"

"If I loved.. If I could love again. Would you...?"

"Be happy? Be upset? Be bitter? Resentful?" Anna smiled as she sat down next to him. Handing him a glass of water, she continued. "To be honest, yeah. I'd feel a little hurt. But, ultimately I'd be happy for you." Blue eyes met green. "If you have a chance to find love again, take it. Even if it wasn't with me, I'd give you all my blessings. 'Sides...." Grinning, "Aggy deserves another daddy."

Charlie guessed that must've been the reason why he's loved this woman in the first place. Her ability to know what others needed before they even realised it was to say the least, amazing. That had to be the reason they could've still remain so close even when they had no longer anything in common.

"Thanks Anna."

_Doesn't belong in this universe_

'What would've been the implications of bringing him to this world?' Charlie thought as he enjoyed the night air. Flipping open his phone, he dialled Durand's number from memory. 'Would I be that selfish?'

Deep inside he knew there was only one answer to that question. Yes. He would be selfish for this unnamed man. This man with the blue eyes.

--Present day--

Tonk's bright pink hair served as their beacon. They'd gone on almost every single ride there was in the fair. Merlin had a good arm with the throwing games while Tonks had the advantage in the shooting department. At first, the brunette warlock was apprehensive of this strange lady who was as strange as she was strikingly pretty. But by the time they'd started on the second game, Tonks was calling Merlin an 'idiot' while he'd called her 'Dora' just to annoy her. All in all, Charlie was glad that the two were getting along well. But the look that he had when he caught himself having fun. It almost made him....

Well, it almost made him regret what he'd done.

-- A month ago--

"I'm surprised it took you this long." Madame Sybill greeted him at the door in her short printed kimono. She probably knew he was coming but left him standing like an idiot on the front steps anyways. Fugly old hag.

She let him in. It surprised him, a little that she lived in an apartment. Durand had been most apprehensive when he'd asked him to look for her number. With a snarl and a threat of replacing him with Robin the new intern later, he'd begrudgingly texted him the number.

"_Try _to make yourself at home." She looked at him pointedly. Truth was, the lady gave him the creeps. Madame Sybill was probably old enough to be his mother and yet she dressed in such scandalous things. Her hair was tied up in a bun with two chopsticks thing sticking out. The woman must have a thing for things from the orient. Nonetheless, he sat down on the plush gothic styled armchair and waited, wondering what in the entire cosmos had made him decide to meet this _quack_.

"I heard that." The Seer walked into the room with a wooden box in her hands. "And that wasn't a very nice thing to say." Narrowing her eyes at him she placed the box on the table in front of them. "I'm doing you a _big _favour here, Mister. The least you can do is play nice."

"Ready?"

As if he could be anything else.

Lifting the lid, Charlie felt like the bright noon sun that had been shining brightly in the room just now had gotten dimmer and dimmer until nothing else filled his vision but the crystal ball in the box. The swirling clouds in the little sphere kept him transfixed and drew him in. "Wha-What is this?" The words left his mouth in barely a whisper. And then the lid was shut again.

"That, my dear Deon, is a moonstone. It's prowess is better and far stronger than that of a mere crystal ball." Stroking the lid reverently, "I went to great lengths to procure this. I don't bring it out for just _anyone _and read it. Consider yourself lucky."

Charlie didn't answer but kept his eyes on the box. Whatever that thing-a-ma-jig was, it had spoken to him, somehow.

"I won't charge you a dime for this. The fact that you _are _going to bring the boy to this world and cause havoc is good enough for me."

"Tell me about him. The person, I mean."

Madame Sybill blinked as if the blonde had just asked her an obvious question. "Instead of telling you, why don't I show you?" Unclasping the lid, the strange orb once again worked it's hypnotic charm and this time drew Charlie in. Into the rainbow hued clouds.....

"Oi!"

Turning around, he saw that Madame Sybill's wispy silvery mane had been slicked back under a scarf and upon checking, he was no longer wearing the designer threads he'd put on this morning. They were also no longer in the safe confines of a modern apartment, but in the middle of a dense and rather damp forest. "What did you....??" He had been unable to say anymore because a cold hand was clamped over his mouth.

The fortune teller lifted a finger to her lips, an indication to be quiet.

The two watched as a young man barely any older than Charlie himself walked silently close to where they were crouching. He was very well dressed and had upon himself some sort of medieval chain mail armour. If this was some kind of cosplay shit, Charlie thought they were taking things just a little tad too far. That sword he had in his hand looked sharp enough to kill. Swiftly as if he had planned the move all along, he jabbed the weapon in his hand through the air and with a squelch, the bright blade was stained in crimson blood. Craning his neck, Charlie saw that he had actually managed to kill a beast with that flimsy thing. The creature probably didn't see it coming though. '_I'd _definitely killed it with it staring into my eyes..' Charlie pouted. Madame Sybill elbowed him and nudged her head at the person. He had withdrew his sword and was now sheathing it. It was then that he saw him.

He had burst out through the bushes and launched himself on the stately looking blonde. "You prat!" He cried. Charlie decided he looked different like this. He looked somewhat, more innocent perhaps? He smiled in a rather relieved way and wrapped his arms around the other person laughingly. In a weird way, this was burning something in Charlie's gut.

"Jealous." The lady beside him whispered, grinning mischievously.

Huffing, he replied. "Am not."

"You okay Arthur?" The voice was filled with genuine concern.

"Yeah.. The spell worked out well." The blonde smiled. "Thank you. As always."

"It was nothing.... Hey! You said thank you!" The shorter male's eyes widened in surprise. "Seriously Arthur, you've gone mellow." He laughed. Charlie liked that laugh. And he liked the smile too.

"Well, maybe..." The taller man, Arthur, held him closer. "Maybe I've found something worth the horrendous embarrassment of being _mellow_." Leaning forward, he carded a gloved hand through the dark locks and whispered something inaudible in his ear. It made him blush prettily. The burning sensation formed in his gut again.

The brunette smiled crookedly and they both kissed. Shocked, he turned to the witch next to him. Their eyes met and she said in a more audible voice, somewhat like how they would speak normally. "I think it's time to leave." And then everything became a whirl again.

"WHY didn't you tell me he was in LOVE??!!!!"

Charlie screamed. Madame Sybill seemed happy to be back in her kimono and was holding on to a bowl of M&M's like it was her lifeline; stuffing palm full of coloured candy into her mouth. She quirked an eyebrow at him and sat down next to the wooden box. The lid was shut and for that, Charlie could be thankful.

"I wanted you to see..."

"To have seen that would have been better not to have seen at all!!" He said exasperatedly. "When you said that there was someone out there for me, I thought... I genuinely thought he was, would be someone _available_." He emphasised on the last word. After a pause he stood up. Grabbing his coat from where it had unceremoniously been laid, he said lowly. "I'm not going through with this. If this had only been a matter of him and him only, it would've been fine for me. But this was about another person....." Balling his fist he turned to go.

"Don't you want to see what the future holds?"

The way she had said it seemed like a spell. Of course, he didn't want to know. But why did the notion bring such temptations with it?

Everything went like a camera going out of focus and then coming back again. They were now standing in the living room of his house. The sun seemed to have lit the walls on fire. He heard peals of laughter coming from the backyard. "Go on." She said throwing back some more candy into her oral cavity. "They can't see us."

Slowly, he walked over to the sliding door that was slightly ajar. There, what he saw made his heart skip a beat. Aggy was tumbling on the grass, laughing jubilantly. He was there and he saw himself wear that same look from the picture. His long golden hair fell down to the grass as Aggy tried to straddle him. Then, there _he _was. He came out wearing a blue striped collared shirt and brown khaki pants. In his hand, he held a tray of lemonade. Charlie saw himself smile at him and receive a smile in return. It was that same smile he'd seen on the person's face earlier on in the forest. The wide, full of adoration, trust-you-very-much smile. He pressed the palm of his hand onto the cold glass. Aggy managed to swing himself onto the brunette's back and he was getting a piggy back ride around the garden. The scene looked like something out of a family sitcom or something. Even so, Charlie couldn't suppress the sudden longing that began to blossom in his chest.

"You want that, don't you?"

Charlie made no move to answer her. He kept trying to remind himself that he would be totally fucking with destiny if he took this man away from his own world. He tried to remember the man in the forest. He had to mean something to this person. And he had to mean something to him too. No. There was no way he would go through all that pain. Or cause someone else the same pain. Again.

"Imagine this life, Deon. Isn't this what you truly want? Isn't this the desire you have been telling yourself to disown? Don't you want this even just a little?"

Yes. Yes he wanted it. He wanted this stupid apple pie life so badly. He wanted it, to be with this strange man. How could he not? Aggy looked so happy here. And he wanted his son to be happy. Charlie knew he'd caused the boy too much grief and sorrow when he moved out.

"Yes." He found his voice in barely a whisper. He didn't dare say it out loud for the same reason you don't prostrate your sins to the world. It truly felt like he was making a deal with the devil.

"That's all I need." The last thing Charlie saw was the image of Aggy sitting on his lap and the young man smiling at him from where he lay beside him.

Charlie found himself on a rock in some sort of cavernous cave. Madame Sybill was standing next to him with a rather solemn look on her face; still pushing the candies into her mouth. The poet wondered why she hadn't dropped down with hyperglycaemia yet. "Where are we again?"

"Some cave."

"That's obvious. But exactly _where_? What have you done this time?"

"That." She lifted a pale finger on an oncoming figure. He was dressed in full armour and the golden insignia on the red tunic made him look valiant and brave. Then it occur to him as the man stalked closer and closer to where he was right now, that it was the same stately blonde from before. His good looking face was, however marred by a deep scowl and his eyes burned with anger. When he got close enough, he lifted his sword and pointed it straight at him. "You." He said in a deep growl.

Charlie almost said 'Who me??' When he realised it was probably that old bloody hag's piece of work. Turning to glare at the said person, he found her smiling and mouthing 'He can't see me.' Charlie knew he was going to kill this woman when this is all over.

"I want an explanation for all that you are doing in Camelot. Who are you and what have we done wrong against you?"

"I'm Deon deBeaumont." Charlie said. He never revealed his real name to an enemy. "I have no grudge against you or your Camelot." Madame Sybill was now looking at him, clearly forgotten about her sugary binge. "My only desire is for your heart."

"My heart." The man named Arthur, repeated slowly as if digesting each word.

"I want your servant."

"What? Merlin?" He frowned, a little confused. "What do you want him for?"

"I have my business with him." He flicked an invisible speck of dust from the front of his jacket.

"Well, I want to know what's he to you?" His grip on the hilt of his weapon tightened considerably. The knuckles of his hand whitened.

Charlie felt a smile grow on his face. "I want him."

Blue-eyes widened and then narrow in anger. "No." He seethed. "I would _never_ let you have him."

"Would you rather I destroy Camelot then?" Whatever this Camelot thingy was. The witch must've done something to it to draw him here. "It would be very easy."

This somehow made him stop and think. Charlie could almost hear the thoughts whirr through his head. "Over my dead body." He raised his sword in an attack stance.

"Fine." Arthur moved his sword through the air. Charlie dodged it easily. He might be good with this broadsword, but he himself had been trained in France to be an expert swordsman since birth. Arthur's move was predictable and slow. He aimed an elbow at an unguarded spot under his arms. This caused the taller blonde to emit a grunt. Using his shoulders, he pushed the other man down.

"Surrender now. Give him to me." Charlie unstrung his long golden hair. He was in his poet persona now. Taking a slightly bedraggled book out of his coat, he held it in his hands. "Give him to me and I'll let you live."

"Never!" Arthur picked himself up and swung his sword at him again. Sighing, Charlie began to read and felt the words pulse out of him.

_He will cover you with his feathers _

Arthur began to shudder and pale; as if he was trying to suppress a cry of pain

_And under them you shall find refuge_

His face began to contort in pain

_His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart_

_You shall not fear the terror of night_

The broadsword dropped onto the ground with a loud clang. The noise echoed deafeningly around them.

_Nor the arrow that takes flight by day_

_Nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness_

Swirls of purplish words began to snake their way up his skin. Soon they were visible on his neck. Here he let out a strangled cry. Charlie had to give it to him. He'd resisted the urge to let it all out and scream much better than most of those that had died in this manner. They all die in the end anyways.

_Nor the plague that destroys by midday _

_A thousand may fall on your side_

_Ten thousand on your right hand_

"Wh-Wha is this...." He managed to choke out.

_But it will not come near you_

_You will only observe with your eyes_

_And see the punishment of the wicked_

Arthur slumped onto the ground, faceward. As soon as the words stopped, Charlie felt queasy. The old headache was back, that was nothing new. His vision was blurry and he felt himself fall sideways. Someone caught him, it had been the crazy witch.

"Sorry... I forgot all about this." She actually looked and sounded like she meant it. "This is why you don't use the Psalms isn't it?" Madame Sybill gave a mirthless laugh. "This is a rather painful price to pay. Physical pains. I can understand." She helped him stand.

"Arthur!!!!!!"

Charlie and the fortune teller looked up to see the man, Merlin come running towards them. His heart skipped a beat and then dropped to the deepest depths of hell when he realised he had killed Arthur. Realising what he must do he stood a little straighter. Looking at the silver haired lady next to him he whispered, "Can he see you?" The lady shook her head. Charlie pursed his lips.

"Hello Merlin." He said as calmly as he could manage.

"Who are you?" The blue eyes that had drawn his soul in, in the picture was now brimming with tears. "What have you done with Arthur? What have you done to him?!"

"Nothing. The fool will live." That was true.

This caught his attention. Charlie read the magical aura he was emitting now. He tried not to let it show, but this skinny, scrawny boy had levels that even surpassed his. If he wanted to make this bluff work, he'll have to play his cards right. _Really _right.

"I give you two options: The first, cast a spell onto me. If I can't repel it, I will let him go and he will forget everything about this-even you. The second, you become mine without a fight and he will wake up in Camelot, as if this never happened." He grinned. It was the only thing that kept his head from exploding right now. Charlie merely blinked at the look he was getting from the warlock. He watched as he cradled the body of the not-quite dead Arthur. He might have hit him with a full on Psalms, yet the boy managed to survive. Amazingly.

Merlin bent over his lover. "Stupid prat." Placing a soft kiss on his lips, "I love you." Charlie felt a tug at his heartstrings. He whispered even more softly. "Even if you won't remember me."

It was in that tiny miniscule little time frame that he almost regretted what he would be doing. Almost.

"Take me. Let him live." His attention was drawn back to the brunette.

And that, dear readers, was how Merlin Emrys came to Charles deBeaumont's world. (Kidnapped more likely)

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**-Okay. I know that was shit long and probably boring as HELL to read but those who had actually managed to read it all, my hat's off to you and hugs and kisses too! I think we all know who Nymphadora Tonks and Sybill Trelawney are. For Charles deBeaumont, look up the anime Le Chevalier Deon. If you need anymore about it, just PM me. Even if you don't, it's still alright. The Psalms were actual Psalms from the bible because in the anime they had used them straight from the greatest book ever. I wanted to keep it in the spirit. So? How did I do? Sorry about the lack of Merthur-ness in this chappie.... =_=" Cross my little black heart I'll add some more soon. =3**


	5. Angel face

To be quite fair, Merlin didn't hate today. Well, not all of it anyways. Tonks was, to say the least, very unusual. She was nothing like Gwen nor was she even remotely similar like the Lady Morgana. And yet, she had the kindness etched behind her eyes and had the air of authority that existed respectively in both ladies. The warlock had never met anyone like her, but she made him feel comfortable. The first time he had ever felt this way ever since his arrival in this world.

For his part, his 'captor' Charles had kept a distance between himself and themselves. Wasn't he afraid that he might make a break for it? Honestly! The man puzzled him immensely. Sure they'd had sex before. But the first time happened because he, Merlin had challenged him. He wasn't really proud of that when he got sobered up. Those bubbly things had a queer effect on him.

"_I don't think you could actually do it." Merlin leered. He was drunk and he knew it. Probably was a good idea to stop now. Charles looked away and pointed out the obvious._

"_You're drunk, Merlin."_

"_I think that's quite enough." The blonde placed his own delicate flute down and moved over to him. Merlin had half expected him to make his move. Instead, he gathered him into his arms as easily as one would gather a pile of clothes. As if he were made of glass, the other man carried him up the stairs to the room he had allocated for him. "You'll feel like shit tomorrow." His baritone voice rang out an amused chuckle._

_Before he could make an evasive move, Merlin grabbed a fistful of his beige sweater. "Still don't think you could do it." He could see the stormy lust clouds swirl behind the green orbs. The brunette was frustrated. In many ways than one. Charles had not done anything to him. If anything were to go by, he was being absolutely _chivalrous. _The man had not once laid a hand on him, not once invaded his private space, not once gave him any dirty look of any kind. There were times where he wasn't at home and Merlin had found that all the doors of the house were open to him, including the front door. Why he hadn't run, was a total mystery to him._

_The blonde laid his hand on top of his. "You don't know what you're talking about." Try as he might, he couldn't pry the calloused hands off his front. For once, the captive glimpsed a flicker of emotion pass through Charles's eyes. "Let go." His voice came out strained._

_Merlin shook his head but loosened his hold. Sitting up quickly, he ignored the spinning floor and kissed his full and hard on the lips. He still tasted like the drink they had awhile ago and the pudding thing that was for dessert. Charles hadn't protested when he flicked his tongue in his warm oral cavity. Instead, he mewed, a surprise to the man on the bed. Whatever they'd had just now, it was making him one bold bastard. "This was what you wanted right? You act all saintly, but inside you want the same things. You're just as bad as all those bandits of the forest. You're just like everyone else." He closed his eyes and felt the magic ebb out of him. When he opened them again, they were both naked, skins glowing faintly in the moonlight. "Take it. It's what you want right?"_

_Once again, he saw the flicker of emotion pass. Was it regret? Helplessness? Something about that look interested Merlin. Before he could dwell on it any further, he was being enveloped in the heavily scented curtain of Charles's long hair and his lips were back on his. Climbing on top of him on the bed, he held his hands above his head and drew back a little. "Yeah. You're right. I'm _just _like everyone else." That night, it could've been hell he'd been to. But he went there and back. The second time, with more clarity, he called out Arthur's name. Even he couldn't be the one in him now, at least he was the man he was making love to in his mind._

That memory gave him the chills all over.

He never liked to be the one in control, preferring to be one playing the submissive role. That's why the Merlin-Arthur dynamic worked well. Arthur always liked the control. Even in bed, though sometimes he relinquished it gladly to his lover. His brilliant blue eyes watched the children pass by with their mothers.

He missed home. He missed his mother, missed her warm reassuring embrace, missed the way she could dispel every worry, trouble, hurt with a simple word of wisdom and smile. He missed Gaius. The old physician had been like a father to him, a friend, a confidante, a mentor. He missed his friends, Gwen and Morgana. Missed how simple things like a flower could cheer his friend up to no ends. Missed the rather bossy way Morgana could get him to do her bidding. Most of all, he missed Arthur. Who wouldn't? Though he could be a total royal pain in the ass, he was his Arthur. He was the Arthur who had shared his inner most thoughts with him. Arthur that could take him to the deepest realms of pleasure, back and again and again. He was the Arthur who could reduce him to a pile of perverse wanton begging with a simple look. This was the person he'd spent almost every night for the past year or so in bed with. They were friends, lovers, master and servant and everything in between.

"Heyyyy~" Tonks brow were furrowed. "Earth to Merlin."

He smiled. "Yeah?"

"Thought we lost you there." Her bright smile was back on her face again. Giving him a bone crushing hug she pecked him on the cheek. "I gotta run now. Teddy's throwing a tantrum at home and Remus is totally losing it without me." She laughed. "We should do this again sometime."

"Then run, wolf girl." Charles materialized next to me. The wind was picking up the stray ends of his hair and his hands were in his pockets. Merlin watched as a smile grew on his lips. He'd seen this smile before... But where had he seen it? It was soft, understanding and kind. It looked natural on a face like his. An angel's face. Tonks tip toed and kissed him. I looked away towards the river. It was beautiful now that it was dusk. The twilight sky was a brilliant hue of violet that tinted every cloud in sight. The lights on the other side of the river were coming on now. The hoards of visitors to the fair were increasing by the minute.

"Come along now." The poet, as he called himself, laid a hand on the small of his back. "You hungry?" Merlin shook his head but the growling of his stomach was a dead giveaway. Charles just smiled and flicked away his cigarette. They walked on until they reached the eatery by river. The man at the door greeted him with the ease of a friend.

"Teillagory! How are you old man?" He asked as they stepped into the warm interior of the building.

"Better. Now that Robin is taking care of me." The old man had long hair that was tied back, similar to Charles' only shorter. His eyes were kind, though his face was albeit a little weathered. The young warlock watched curiously at the playful banter that occurred between the two. For some unknown reason, he felt rather uncomfortable at the sight.

"Now, you want to tell who is this?" Teillagory's eyes were now at him, looking him up and down, surveying him. To Merlin, the look was somewhat of a challenge. He could feel the magic buzzing in his head. His companion must've sensed it for he quickly smiled and continued speaking in another language. He watched as the man's look change from curious happiness to pure anger. Suddenly, Charles was being held up to the wall. "What were you THINKING boy??? Hadn't I thought you better than this??"

Flabbergasted, Merlin tried to pry the veined wrought hands from the younger man's collar. "Stop!! Stop!!! What are you doing??" He felt afraid. Charles was evidently not fighting back, it was apparent. But why?

The old man took one look at him and released his prisoner. "Don't you care what he's doing to you? Don't you mind at all?" He demanded furiously. "He's kidnapped you from your own world!" If someone had said this to him a few weeks ago, he would have said 'Yes' without any strain of hesitation. But as he stood there, Merlin could not bring himself to say it. He wanted to. However, the words were choked up in his throat.

"I think that is enough, Master."

A boy stepped in between them and Teillagory. He had reddish brown hair that fell around his ears. His piercing blue eyes were warning to the old man. It was funny, because the next moment, the old man just pursed his lips and stalked off to the kitchens.

"Robin."

"Deon." The boy looked at the warlock and back at him again. "You should go." He went behind the counter and took out a box. Handing it over the counter, he added. "Be careful." Robin gave Merlin a look before Charles directed them out the door.

What is with these people?

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The first parchment was a bunch of boring nonsense. By the time he'd read the third line, it was apparent that this was _not _Gaius' handwriting. The person wrote like chicken scratch.

_.....Got job today. Manservant for Arthur. Know it's going to be bad....._

Manservant? As far as he knew, Harold neither knew how to read nor write. Arthur sat on his bed and laid the parchment down. Picking up another, he started again.

_Stupid stupid ignorant prat of the universe. Can't believe he's one side of the coin. Nin won't even listen to me. He's soo going to get slaughtered by Valiant. Damn shield's cursed._

That was true. Valiant's shield had been bewitched to strike at anyone he commanded it to. One of the maids was found dead in front of the shield and Arthur had seen with his own eyes that the shield had struck her. But how had this person known that? The matter had been kept private and Valiant had been executed in the woods behind the castle. The parchments went on and on about things that he had never mentioned to anyone, things that only a handful of people knew. Like Lancelot for example. Arthur knew that the man would've made a good knight and thus he'd forged documents for him, feigning his noble bloodline. Lancelot had saved Arthur and likewise many countless times. The dark-skinned knight was Gwen's betrothed. How could the author of these parchments know about that? Then came this:

_Arthur said he loved me today. Thought he was joking. But the arse kissed me. He KISSED me. Don't know what to feel now. Liked it more than I should but also know that this is something of a one time fling for him. Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon could've never possibly wanted someone like me.... Right?_

The next one was a little smudged and the ink ran in several places. It took the prince a little while under the dim candle light to decipher the words that remained legible.

_He got bitten today and it's all my fault. I should've never asked him to take me to the caves. Stupid stupid! Gaius said it was a Questing Beast. Arthur's marked. I can't let it happen. I think I love him._

WHAT?????

Arthur almost laughed out loud. It took him every single fibre of his being to clamp down on that desire. This unknown author was in love. With. Him. Strangely as it may seem, it didn't really shock him. It felt like he knew it for a long time coming. The young Pendragon felt his cheeks grow warmer. He was blushing. And Arthur Pendragon never blushes.

Placing the parchment gently on the 'Read' pile, he tuned his attention to the other items he'd found. The dry leaf, he couldn't find anything special about it. To Arthur the leaf was well, a leaf. Nothing special. But the box..... Upon opening it, he found sheaves of sketches. Expertly drawn sketches. Examining them, he saw that they were all of him. His eyes, lips, torso. Some of them were sketches of scenery. Some of them familiar, some of them not. One of these was one with colour and it was of the oak tree he'd been to this afternoon. What had this got to do with that tree.... An intense feeling enveloped him and when his eyes opened once more, he was still in his room but something was amiss.

He saw himself reading at one corner of the bed. The title of the book was one of those that he never read before and he had always detested reading. On his face was a serene almost blissful expression; as if everything was right in the world.

"C'mon! You're going to be late!"

It was his voice. That person's voice. Arthur felt his heartbeat slow and his breathing became irregular. Turning around slowly, he saw the person standing there. He had on his face a very exasperated expression. His blue eyes, oh! He could've drowned in the depths of them. His cheekbones were kicking off his face when the Arthur on the bed came at him and gave him a full frontal, tongue attack kiss.

"Stop it Arthur!" Turning to close the door, he looked up and down the corridor before doing so. "Someone could've seen us!" He felt a jolt up his spine when he saw himself grab the slighter man from behind and held him.

"So?"

"So? Your dad will have me killed, so." Bending over and planting a chaste kiss on his lips, he continued. "C'mon. You're late as it is." He couldn't feel a pang when he saw a smile grow on his face. How come he didn't remember all of this? He should've considering that this person made him very happy. Why couldn't he remember this man? He saw himself nod and tightened his hold.

"My lord? My lord?? It's time to wake up."

The Crown Prince of Camelot opened his eyes and squinted in the sudden blast of sunlight. Harold laid out his clothes and went out of the room. He'd probably forgotten his breakfast again. Looking over, he saw that the parchments were still there, so were the leaf and the box of sketches. So last night hadn't been a dream at all. Closing his eyes, he remembered the image of him hugging the person. So, it turns out he was into these sort of things after all. But what had happened there?

His eyes fell on an object that had almost escaped his notice. The red neckerchief laid on his pillow. Gingerly stroking the material, he drank in the scent. It hit him full on with fragrant herbs, flowers, berries and an underline of earthy tones. Outside he could hear his manservant's shuffling feet approaching. Whatever questions that had formed had to be put aside for later. Swiftly, he gathered everything and put them in the chest at the foot of his bed. Arthur was about to put the neckerchief in too.

"No." He found himself whisper. Tucking it in at his belt, he knows he must keep it close.

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**A/D: Don't own Merlin, Arthur, Tonks, Charles, Teillagory nor do I own Robin. =( They belong to their respective creators of whom I have nothing but adoration and admiration for.**

**J: I'll be changing this fic to the crossover category of Merlin once it's finished. **


	6. Over milkshakes and fried mars bars

**A/D: I do not own Merlin and his consorts. Nor do I own Charlie. They belong to BBC and the awesomeness that is the person who drew the anime Le Chevalier Deon. (I am soo sorry I can't remember who it is!!)**

**A/N: I know this is late in coming. I liked my studies a little too much. ****=) I am only human. Please do not kill me.  
**

We had sex again last night. He's sleeping now and the darkness of his hair is splayed against the whiteness of the linen sheet. I can't help but to look at him and wonder.

When is he going to kill me?

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I took him to one of those fancy smanshy parties that Durand demanded I attend. We arrived and I introduced him as my guest at home. Someone from a distant land. The irony. Nobody questioned it. For that, I can draw a small relief.

"Do I seriously _have _to wear this?" He'd pursed his lips and set his blue eyes ablaze. Merlin held up the suit that the tailor had sent over. It must've been typical 'Merlin', because he was fretting over it ever since the delivery arrived at half-past two.

"What's wrong with it?"I asked as I wondered between the two ties that had been recommended. When I didn't hear an answer, I turned to see that he had hung his head like a forlorn child denied candy. A blush was beginning to creep across his features.

"I-It's too expensive." He blurted as the tips of his ears turned a bright tomato red. "I'm not wearing it. Sorry." He added as if regretful of the predicament.

Suppressing my urge to smile, I strode across the room and took the hanger from his unresisting hands. He looks at me with curiosity. I gently unzipped the plastic cover and shook it off. I couldn't help but to admire the perfectness of the lines and the neat stitching of the hems. The material was a deep maroon shade that contrasted with his pale skin and made him seem sharper and regal. "Too bad then." I mocked sighed. This made him scowl. "You'd have had looked good in it. It was custom made for you, you know that?" I hung it on a hook on the wall. Running a hand over the surface of the jacket, I made a mental note to always patronize this tailor again. He seemed to be a master of what he was doing.

"How'd you know what size I was?"

"Merlin…"

"How?" He demanded. I knew that tone.

The material was silk and cotton? I liked how it felt against my fingers. It had not cost as much as I thought it would have. Maybe having a reputation (be it good or bad) is somewhat of a benefit. "I sized you up when we had sex."

"Oh." I have no doubt my frank use of the word was uncomfortable to him. I felt him come near me. I was surprised. He usually liked the space between the two of us. On a normal basis, it was like I was a wild animal he was trying to survive in the vicinity of. "Seriously? When we…you know? Urmphed?" He made some motions with his hands and screwed his face in a contortion of concentration. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips. He looked endearing as the blushed brightened another shade. "You w-were sizing me up the whole time?"

I smiled slightly, but nodded all the same. A stifling pause descended on us. Then, as suddenly as he'd interrupted my tie-choosing-ceremony, he took the hanger off its hook and swept out to the bathroom on the other end of the hall.

And that left me standing still partially dressed.

I was waiting on the couch with one of those tedious reports I had to read when he came down. And _boy _was there ever an entrance! He walked down the stairs, all decked out in his new things. I'd expected the way the new clothes clung to his every curve. I'd even expected the way he would seem to glow in his flawlessness in the pairing of the colours. What I hadn't expected was the gelled back hair that sharpened his features and accentuated the blueness of his eyes. I hadn't expected the confidence that gleam from his eyes. He almost looked like….

"Wow." Was all I managed to squeeze out in my state of mind numbness.

"How do I look? I don't have anything on my face do I? Oh gods! It-There is, isn't there?" He ranted when we were face to face. "I _knew _this was a bad idea…"

"Merlin, shut up" I silenced him. "If there's anything, I'm not complaining."

That seemed to have piqued his confidence again. "So… you like?"

I laughed. "Yes. Yes, I like." We found ourselves in the silence of the living room again. "Let's make a move? Durand would have my head on a stake if we are late." Next to him, I found myself to be a little bland. I'd just thrown on the things that I already had in the closet-my deep blue-black dinner jacket with my light blue shirt underneath and my black leather pants. My brown sensible shoes shone with the polish I had applied earlier on. I looked like the modern vampire. But that was the way I dressed when I could give a fuck about shite. I added my reading glasses for obscurity and left my hair tied back as usual. I checked my breast pocket for it. Yup. Still there.

Durand had had a car waiting for us at the gates. It was a gesture of making sure that I could drink more at the event. I knew his hidden motive was that I couldn't make a quick getaway. The sly bastard knew well that I could hold liquor as well as a good-hardened drinker. The whole Trelawny incident hadn't blown over well with him.

Over the past week or so, I'd cautiously avoided any type of physical contact with Merlin. Our first meeting had been nothing but pleasant. Okay it was worse. I'd skirted around him constantly, always careful not to touch him in anyway. But tonight….. The rules were turning on itself tonight. Tonight, all inhibitions I have or rather, had been thrown out the window and in to the dustbin below. Tonight, I wanted to be the devil and let the angels hide away. All I wanted to start off from was to kiss him. And then maybe everything can off again.

"You look great too." His voice brought me out of my train of thoughts. I coughed and attempted to smile. I opened the door for him, carefully avoiding his body as he slipped past me into the twilight sun.

London was and is and always will be a beautiful city. Especially at this time of the year when the holidays were looming in the corner and the air was full of tingling anticipation. We were stuck in traffic (when we were never?), and while we were ambling along slowly in our car, the fairy lights that were strewn all above us drew our attention out our respective windows. Our driver was a big and burly man with a clean shaven head and who wore the standard issue of clothes. I think his name was Sven.

"They're called fairy lights." I said suddenly, feeling stupid that I'd even opened my mouth at all. "But they don't have any faeries living in them of course." I added hastily, noting the look of panic and trying to salvage whatever dignity I might have left. "It's just a name." Gods! I could feel my cheeks burning. "They just hang them up every year around this time." I scooted over just a little. My perception didn't pick up any negative vibes from him. Good. It meant that I wasn't doing anything wrong. He said nothing, only stared transfixed at the tiny blinking golden lights above. The soft glow soon became our source of light. The blinking lights fell across his face and threw his cheekbones to sharp relief. I gulped silently. He was unconsciously pouting and those lips were made to sin.

Our driver- Yuri? Yulric?? – grunted that we'll have to weave through traffic, and that we'd better buckle up. Merlin had been in a car before-the first time he was practically a possessed banshee, clawing at the windows. My poor Audi's leather interior had claw marks on every single soft surface. He was the picture of sereneness and calm as he sat there now. Long fingers were tugging the buckle the wrong way. Not thinking, I reached over and secured the metal head in its catch. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you." I said softly. Once I did that, I secured mine too.

And it was a good thing too. Baldy drove like a man on crack.

My beloved Durand was waiting for us when the door opened for us. The shutters went off like a million fluttering insect wings the instant I stepped onto the carpeted ground. I seriously felt like I was going to be blinded by the bright lights. Then it hit me. This was first time I'd brought Merlin to anywhere that involved public scrutiny on my status. A million voices shouted my name at once. Shrieks and sequels pierced through the chilled early evening air. I looked back to see Merlin watching me with his blue eyes flickering with an emotion I couldn't identify. Durand was trying to tell him something, but it was evident that the warlock wasn't even listening. Slipping an arm around him, I whispered, "Stay close." And I led him next to me.

I made Durand happy. I think that should account for something. The brunette was deliriously pleased, elated, whatever, that I stayed throughout the entire program. In fact, I was surprised myself. Hopefully this would put him off my back for a week (the most). Yipee. Fun times.

The way back was almost as silent as the way there. All throughout the evening I could sense that Merlin didn't feel quite comfortable with the waiters serving us. It was almost as if he was feeling a mixture of glee and happiness and a bit of guilt. I had to mentally read the Psalms to keep him from injuring himself with the various cutleries and slopping wine down his suit. Baldy was driving again. "Stop here for awhile." I indicated. Merlin looked at me puzzled. Even after a few nearly-fatal accidents, he was still looking delectable. It was a strange thing that we have together. Our relationship had changed from kidnapper-kidnapped to (I'm ashamed to say) shag partners to precarious living mates (bedfellows?). Now what? Where were we now?

Our driver expertly maneuvers a side parking and I get out. Holding a hand out, I smiled when he took it easily and I led him into the 24 hour joint. He still smelled of the sweet perfume that I didn't have the heart to tell him was Anna's but he smelled good with anyways. It was one of those floral scents that she loved dabbing on first thing after her showers that completely complimented his naturally earthly smell. The gel was beginning to loosen up. A stray strand had escaped that fell at the side of his face. Don't mind me. I love everything about him tonight.

Gus greeted us when the tinkling bell alerted him of my arrival. I release Merlin for a moment to envelope the slighter man in my embrace. He's a beautiful creature. A few years back, one of the few poets still remaining had fallen been extremely jealous when Gus had been the one his lady love desired. Wanting revenge, he drew the sign on the side of his beautiful face. I'd arrived just in time to kill the maker, but the process had already begun. Without any hesitation, Gus had said, "I'd rather live with a scarred visage then to die a monster." Even though I managed to save him, it wasn't without a cost. The right side of his face was still in all its angelic beauty. But the left side was deeply scarred, the skin was forever pale and all the markings stood out painfully. It never failed to break my heart anew when I saw him. Though he'd insisted that this wasn't my fault, I always felt like it was. I kiss him, planting an extra one on the left side of his lips. His aqua blue eyes look searchingly at me and then at Merlin. I gave him a tight smile. He takes one look at me and walks over to Merlin, kissing him on both sides of his face. An action that causes me some twinges of jealousy. But I smile a little more relaxed. Gus approves.

I lead Merlin to my favourite booth at the back of the place with a window that looked out to the river. Baldy followed us in and was now at the counter chatting up one of the waitresses. Gus catches my eye and we both smile in a conspiratorious way. Gina was only interested in books and nothing else. I told him that he could go back now. My companion and I would find our means home, he nodded and left after a cuppa and 20 minutes of failed attempts for Gina's number. The position that she currently holds was to help her buy more books. I told Gus to bring me my usual and to make it a double. He winks and disappears into the kitchen.

"I used to come here a lot. Whenever I was upset I would come here to escape." I unconsciously grinned as I regaled how I would stumble in at 3 in the morning all bruised and cut up and how Gus would just take one look at me and take out the first-aid kit that he keeps under the counter. After the incident, the lady love had felt that it was entirely her fault that this had happened in the first place (Like _of course_?) So she took it upon herself to fund his shop. And thus. "They have these menus that are practically every and any comfort food you could've ever thought about. They have this thing called fried Mars Bars? They taste....." I closed my eyes to emphasise on my point. "Heavenly." I smiled. To my utmost surprise, he grinned and laughed at me.

Gus set two tall glasses of strawberry milkshakes in front of us. "What?" I asked, eyebrows raised. Gus and Merlin just smiled and shook their heads. One of the unfortunate effects of the incident was that he'd lost his voice. Well. Not _exactly _lost his voice. It had gone a low guttural growl that was something akin to the gargoyles. He'd had me take his voice away. I admired Gus. Three years on, he's still surviving.

The Mars Bars arrived when we'd taken our coats off and my hair was tumbling off the side of the table as I laughed at Gus's actions depicting a funny incident that involved a customer. Merlin was for the first time laughing. It was a light gurgling sound that reminded me of younger days, days when I'd spent them in France with Lia.

Lia.

The pain that blossomed in my chest wasn't anything foreign anymore. I felt someone shaking me and looked up to see Gus and Merlin's eyes staring worriedly at me. It was strange to see that the blueness of their orbs was so similar that it hurt. I shrugged it off and said that I was fine. My little bout was soon forgotten as Gina strolled over with more junk food. Eventually, as the final customers trickled out, she too left along with them. Gus went to the back of the shop to make some more food. Over the course of fish and chips, coffee, more Bars, more shakes, a small bowl of pudding, Merlin told me about his mother, his little village called Ealdor, how he longed to be with her now. He also spoke about a person called Will. I could tell that Will was someone important to him for he spoke about him with a look that flickered between fond remembrances and pain and sorrow. The brunette also began to speak about Arthur, how he met him and what he'd thought about him when he first saw him. Apparently the royal prat had be knifing some poor sod of a servant. But it was the look on his face that he had on when he started to speak about how their tenacious servant-master-friends-not-really-friends relationship quickly blossomed into something else. I couldn't help it when a little voice piped at the back of my mind '_Could he not try to love me too?_'

"You missed a spot." I brushed away a stray crumb on his cheek. Before I knew it, we were too close. I wanted to pull away, but there was something that was keeping me there. Right in front of him. I could feel the coffee laden breath and I could see the way the fluttering of his lashes had caused shadows to darken his blue iris. I didn't feel him pull away so we kissed. It wasn't like any of the kisses that we'd shared before. Those were lust filled kisses when I couldn't deny to myself that he was only here because I wanted to shag him. And he'd been defiant in those lip lock sessions. Often more than not, I'd end up with a cut on my lips. But this one... this one had me tasting the remnant smoky caramel, sweet heady tang of coffee. And this one had seen him responding to me.

As we were leaving the cafe, I attempted to pay for our meal, but was stopped just as I reached for my cash. Gus just gave me that withering look that said '_Don't you _dare'. There was another one that he gave me as he kissed me goodbye. _Be careful_.

We took a cab about three blocks down. The ride home was quiet, but not strained. It was just that neither one of us felt the need to talk. We held hands all throughout the journey and I only let his narrow hands go when I had to take the money out to pay the driver. I gave him an extra big tip. Someone needs to feel as happy as I was tonight. I fumbled with the keys for awhile before he took it from my hands with a simple "Let me" and I made sure our clothes were gone by time the door clicked shut.

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So here I was. Depressing really. The first time I'd had sex with him, he'd gone and cried out Arthur's name and rolled to his side and started retching. I'd felt bad of course, but I'd never been more captivated with anyone and I didn't wanna let him go. Last night in the throes of our passion, he'd actually called out my name. It was soft, almost moan like. But I wouldn't have had mistaken it for anything else. The thing is....

I think the psycho fag hag had been right. I'm in love with the one person who could've never ever loved me back. I slipped out of bed and onto the cold hardwood floor. Opening the double windows, I sat on the window seat and let the cold blue-grey light wash over me and everything else. I needed a smoke. The scent of sex on my skin was a little too much than I could bear. I wanted it gone. It was hard to feel this way, but this was also familiar terrain for me.

The rustling of the sheets drew my gaze from the sky to the bed. The dark-haired warlock had rolled over and was hugging my pillow tightly. I grimaced. I'm never letting anyone near that pillow. Ever. Again. I could see, even through the gathering light, I could see that he was drooling. Smiling a little I let the thought wound itself around me as I climbed back into bed. The greatest warlock ever known to man was drooling into my pillow. Brushing a stray lock from his eyes, I couldn't help but to marvel at the fact that even when he was sleeping, I could feel the waves of dormant magic roll off him, the sleeping magic ebbed out and softly caressed my skin. If only Merlin knew how powerful he could be if he was with the right person. I traced every curve, scar, vein and line on him, willing him into memory. Last night had been unbelievable. For the longest time, I'd forgotten where I ended and where he began.

As the golden sunshine illuminated the ceilings and crept across the floor and across our forms, I snuggled even closer to him till I was face to face with him and the pillow was the only thing between us. Wrapping my arm around his waist I think he probably wouldn't remember that he'd mumbled my name as he sleepily tucked his head underneath my chin.


	7. Hunting cures a broken heart

**A/N: I'm trying my best here, so bear with me. Just so you know, I welcome all conspiracy theories. Try and guess how this will end. The plot bunnies are worming. And plotting. And angsting.**

**A/D: The usual disclaimers apply.**

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The question that was resonating through the stone hallways was one that remained unspoken but thought of. Everywhere, in every nook and cranny, Camelot's children were whispering, 'Where is Arthur?'

"I _WANT _him found!!" Uther slammed his fist on the wooden table. "I want every single soldier and manservant and stable hand to scour the kingdom for him. And don't you _dare _come back until you do." He paced to his throne and sat down huffing. "_Well_??? What are you all standing there for?? **GO**!!" His knights placed their fists over their hearts in a salute and left the room in a hurry, leaving their king in peace.

In truth, Uther was more worried than he was angry with his son. Harold, Arthur's manservant had been found in a brook. Drowned. The water was as high as a babe's ankle. His face was bruised and cut and it had been a small miracle that they'd managed to identify him and send his body to his family in the country. There'd been no evidence of foul play, so all the king had had to assume was that this was the work of magic. The word itself gripped him with both anger and fear. Something was happening and stirring at the air and it was something he did not like.

Arthur had gone on 'another hunting trip'. If killing was the thing that kept the Pendragon heir in check, then so be it. Who was he to comment on how his offspring spent his leisure time. But when he'd failed to report to the guards after the third day, and when news of the dead manservant had reached his ears, he began to plan for the worse.

Looking out the window, he saw Morgana embrace her maidservant. He was honestly glad that the girl had found a friend in the servant girl. It had done the troubled daughter of his friend a world of good. Looking up at bright azure sky, he closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. Uther hoped that Igraine wouldn't blame him too much if anything were to happen.

So, apparently Arthur's gone M.I.A. Want to know what _actually _transpired?

–Insert evil snicker-

**Three Days Ago**

"C'mon Ha_rold_…" He stopped short of his drawl. It was that feeling of familiarity again. But it vanished as soon as he begun to dwell on it.

The scrawny gangly fellow jogged to keep up with his master. "Coming Sire!" Bags and dead animal carcasses banged around at his side. Arthur rolled his eyes and returned to the track. If he had had it his way, the bumbling excuse of a fool wouldn't even be here. But someone had to carry the booty and the bags. Clenching his jaw when his manservant broke a branch, he looked around for signs of the fleeing deer.

Ever since the discovery of the parchments, he couldn't help but to feel a small tiny part of him come back together. It was as if those things under the floorboard had somehow lightened him in some small way that was still beyond his comprehension. There were still times where he's find himself hugging himself and had to pass it off as if he were just crossing his arms. And failed miserably at doing so.

"_Try _to be a little discreet Harold." He drawled impatiently.

Panting and exclaiming from the effort of catching up, the poor sod said, "I'm trying sire!" He moaned. "But it feels like something was at me feet, Sire."

Brushing it aside as excuses, Arthur entertained the thought of putting the other man at the stocks when the hunt was over. It was then when he noticed the lack of lighting where they were. A tiny bit of shiver crept up his spine. They were a little too deep for his liking. After a fruitless hour of stalking, the Pendragon heir decided to throw the towel in and head back for his horse.

"**SIRE**!!!"

Harold's cry made him unsheathe his sword automatically and turned around. The gangly limbed man was sprawled on the forest floor, obviously terrified of….

_A woman_?

He lowered his sword. Just a little. The lady smirked and remarked, "Now I wouldn't do that if I were you. Appearances can be deceiving. Especially," She gestured. "With a lady like me."

At first Arthur thought that she might be one of those guardians of the forest he'd been warned about as a child when his nannies had came and went with a myriad length of succession. Once, when he was nothing but just a boy, one of the ladies had warned him about venturing in too far into the woods that surrounded Camelot. There were guardians, she'd said, that guarded those forests and kept its inhabitants from harm. Never ever venture into those parts, she'd added as she kissed his tiny golden head. It was strange why this tale would come up at a time like this.

If anything was to go by, the lady certainly didn't look the part of a forest guardian that he'd conjured up in his mind. In fact she looked practically _exotic_. Her long jet black hair cascaded to her full waist, while her attire left naught for the imagination. Iridescent orbs shown bright through the darkness of the trees and from where he was standing, he could see that her lips were cherry red and smiling at him. She'd been so pale, she looked like she was glowing. Arthur thought that she couldn't have been real. _Who is this woman? _

She answered the question the minute he finished it in his head. "What does your heart tell you Arthur Pendragon?" This made him blink. "It's an irony don't you think?"

Swishing her long golden embroidered red cloak aside, she walked past Harold and towards Arthur. To an observer, she seemed to be gliding on the grass. "How do you know my name?" He asked still not wavering with his sword. She eyed the blade and back at him.

"Put that down before you hurt someone." She said it so nonchalantly that it was almost as if she was asking about the weather. "Who doesn't know your name? You're practically superstars."

"Who is he? I'm sorry if I'm impetuous, but you aren't exactly an open book."

With a raised eyebrow, she smiled. "_He_. Why of course, I meant your one true love. The other side of the coin?" When there was no reaction, her smile turned into a line. "Merlin."

And something in him stirred.

_Endless stretches on __milken__ white skin sprawled out in front of him. Face flushed and panting, the person __underneath him was moaning and yet crying at the same time. It wasn't because of pain, if it were, he'd never forgive himself. Arthur never thought that a person could feel so many varying emotions at the same time. Softly, he trailed butterfly kiss all along the length from the navel to his full lusciously red lips. He was beautiful. He always was. And to top it all off, he was his. The thought made his heart beat even more frantically. Arthur knew he could never contain how he feels about him._

"Merlin." The name rolled off his tongue and it felt right.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "My, this is more worrisome than a cat finding itself in the dog house." She pushed down his lax sword arm. "Tell me. Do you remember him? DO you remember Merlin?"

**A/N: Bear with me. The tragedy is on its way.**


	8. How Harold died

**A/D: If I owned Merlin, a lot of un-het things would happen that will make a lot of het supporting people squirm.**

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It was the feeling that we got in class when the teacher asks a question that we know the answer to. When the word or sentence seems reachable, we pull at it, only to have it flutter away at our touch. And all that was left was a pit of frustration building up inside us. That was how Arthur felt, a million times over.

The weapon fell to the ground in a soft thud. Waves of pain came crashing over the prince and his veins felt like they were coursing with fire. He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to block out the pain, a gesture he had not done since he was 12 when his father had scolded him in front of a foreign delegate. No. Arthur Pendragon never cried, not back then, not now, not ever.

_Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin. Merlin._

The name echoed in his mind over and over and over and over again. Like a never ending, never breaking chant. With each time, an image presents itself on his minds' eye like a fiery imprint. Images upon images assaulted him; a smile, a laughter that was soft before bursting forward like a fountain, kisses in the morning, hand in his that felt comforting and secure, blue, blue eyes the colour of the sea, soft caresses of his hand on pale milky white skin that ran for miles, his name being called out in the throes of ecstasy, a strange swell of pride as he watches blue flash gold, a red neckerchief that he found both familiar and amusing, bony hands that he knows protects him, a strong presence by his side that he knows will never leave…..

"Arthur." He felt a cool hand on his brow. "Open your eyes please." The light from the forest canopy was dim, but he squinted nonetheless. Then, a sudden darkness descended around him. A strong scent of something alcohol-ish and smoky invaded his senses. The lady had bent over him and they were barely hairbreadths apart. The darkness had been caused by her long dark midnight tresses. Her dark ruby eyes seemed to glow. "Arthur? Focus on my voice. You have to tell me what you remember about Merlin." At the saying of the name, another wave of pain came over him. "It's no good." It was then that Arthur could make out a pre-, no, two new presence around them. The pain intensified when she closed in once more and blew a scented breath onto him.

"What are yo-" Was all he could manage before the painless, comforting dark sleep came over him.

What Harold the manservant saw from where he was, was that one of the two lackeys of the woman hoisted the prince onto his shoulder and stepped into the stream that was a few paces away. The slighter one helped the lady into the stream and then they just disappeared. He bent over the spot where they'd vanished and begun to call for his liege.

What killed poor manservant Harold was actually the accumulation of the weight of his things and the fact that he forgot to change his shoes to the new ones he'd bought yesterday at Camelot's cobbler. Harold slipped on some slippery pebbles as he got up and fell first into the water, knocking his head on the rocks and thus drowning him in his sleep.

_That _was how Harold died.

**A/N: Bear with me. I'm just getting started. Sorry about the lack of uploads. I'm trying the best I can here, so please don't kill me.**


	9. Heartbreaks and Stockholm Syndrome Mania

**J: FINALLY! A new chapter! Sorry for the delays. I know I've been bad…. –Readers nods in agreement- **

**A/D: I don't own anything. If I did, there'd be sex scenes between the boys in the show already.**

He remembered everything. Every single detail, down to the last speck of dirt and blood. Everything that he couldn't recall, he now could call upon with unspoken ease. Arthur had spent the whole of last night with the Dimensional Witch, Yuuko who was a strange character if there ever was one. She had this little black puff ball of a thing that she kept with the whole time they were sitting together in the queer but oddly comfortable room. She'd been burning incense made of a smoky sweet scented flower in an ornate bronze pot set in the corner of the room. It'd started out with just simple talking over tiny delicate cups of what she called 'rice wine' that had Arthur found an instant liking to.

The first memory had not yielded easily. It had caused him a lot of pain when he tried to draw upon the first time he'd met the warlock. Though he could look back at the moment whence Merlin, the idiot, had pointedly marched up and told him the fun was over and smiled, when he was trying to remember it, his head was literally on the verge of being split in half. Even Yuuko had looked slightly ashen in her already pale pallor. But when it finally rested in, the rest came along rather easily. Like the time he'd actually risked his life to find the stupid bleeding flower when Merlin had been poisoned, or the time that the fool actually thought that he could fool him into eating rat stew only to have himself chow it down instead, nor could he ever the time that he'd came in without knocking (again) and gave him that speech that was supposed to mean something then, but didn't. The end of the first time summoning all those memories had seen Arthur on the floor sprawled on his back, panting as the world began to swim back into focus.

Arthur vowed to rip the lungs out of the person who'd done this in the first place.

When he was starting to beat himself on letting those memories slip through his mind so easily, the witch merely smiled and said to him, "If the bond between the two of you was so easy to break in the first place, then you wouldn't even remember him at all." Standing up and putting the little talking fluff ball in the hands of her handmaiden, she beckoned him to follow her through a door. He'd learnt earlier on that he was in a place called Japan, in the witch Yuuko's house. The houses here were so very different to the ones he was used to but the Pendragon prince said nothing.

The two men he'd seen with her the first time were sitting close to each other, but not touching. There was a heavy tension palpable in the air around. She motioned to the taller, darker one and he rose, guiding him to his room. If he wasn't at their mercy, he'd expressed his almost immediate dislike of the man. He didn't say a single word, only remained sullen faced the whole entire time. But, Arthur could've sworn he'd smiled at him as he was closing the door.

Arthur came to in a brightly lit room. He was sleeping on the floor but the thing that he was snuggled up comfortably in made it feel like he was still in his bad back in Camelot. Curled on one side he tried to fall asleep again. That's when the luminous door slid to the side and one of the mysterious lady's companions quietly slipped in and placed a tray near him. It smelled good. Whatever it was that he'd cooked up.

"You might as well get up now." Arthur frowned at him with one eye still closed. It was scary that he wasn't even remotely scared or worried about the predicament that he was in.

"How'd you know I was awake?" The prince slid the tray closer to his oversized blanket. "I'm always good at pretending that I was asleep."

The younger man just shrugged and smiled. When he was in the forest, he didn't had a good look at him, but now that he was here, he couldn't ignore the fact that he look so very much like Merlin. Pale features accentuated even further by the dark hair, cropped short around his skull. Small waifish build and a mysterious smile, but that was where the similarities ended. With an uneasy swallow, Arthur noted that the guy had different coloured eyes- one blue, the other a deep molten gold. Then, just as suddenly as the thought came, he mentally chided himself for being so judgmental. He of all people should've known better than to judge a person by their physical aspects. The boy must've seen the uneasiness behind his eyes because he remarked, "It's alright. I get it all the time; I'm quite used to it now." Then he laughed. "I'll leave you to your meal." And he left the room just as quietly as he came in. It was a nice laugh that he had. For the first time in what felt like ages, Arthur smiled.

By the time he'd returned, Arthur had decided that next to the food from the castle kitchen, this was **AWESOME**. The man asked about what he thought of the food- a simple affair consisting of a bowl of chicken broth with slices of meat and some soft porridgey thing that tasted far finer and plainer. But when mixed together, it tasted like heaven. It was a simple as that. "It's really delicious. You're very good at this." He said as the bespectacled male picked up the tray. He'd blushed, but bashfully muttered his thanks.

"Hey." The prince asked as the morning's chef carefully manoeuvred himself to his feet with the tray of dirty dishes.

"Is there something that you need?"

"I still haven't known your name."

He seemed to be taken aback, but recollected himself quickly and replied with a smile. "Watanuki Kimihiro. And by the way, he's actually a good person. Underneath all the sulking glooming dark facedness." When met with an eyebrow, he said curtly. "Doumeki."

"Are you both… Together? Or something?" Arthur asked, suddenly feeling embarrassed at his own straight forwardness.

The youth only smiled and looked out the opened doors to the garden. "You can say it's an arrangement." Noting the prince's puzzled expression he shook his head and said that it was nothing.

Yuuko called for him after he was dressed in some pull string wrap-over garment thing. The strange twin-like children led him to the backyard. The witch herself was sitting in a recliner slowly taking drags from her smoke pipe. The two boys, if they could be considered boys, were there with her too. Snoozing comfortably in the witches' lap was a black ball of fur that still looked suspiciously like a stunted rabbit.

"Arthur." She appraised him. "You look good." Here she turned toward the tanned male who seemed to be oblivious to everything else but the person next to him. They were a striking couple. One dark, the other pale. It was then that he saw that Watanuki's right eye was the same shade as Doumeki's. "They share the same right eye. Doumeki is the original owner of the eye. Now they both own it." Yuuko was smiling at him as he went to sit in the chair next to her. It didn't escape his thoughts that the woman knows everything.

They all sat in silence, enjoying the afternoon breeze. Arthur was beginning to feel restless. He remembered everything now. Yuuko _had _had promised she'd help him get Merlin back. Wherever he was that is. But could he get him back? Would _he _want to come back? He'd remembered that warlock's face, he'd also remembered the suffocating feel as those words embraced him. Shuddering a little, he couldn't begin to think how Merlin is right now. Arthur could only hope that the man he loves will be alright and would know that he was coming to get him.

"He's alright. You don't have to worry. Merlin is a stronger man than you give him credit for." She said slowly. "Do you wish to see him?" Arthur paused for awhile before nodding. He want- no. _Needed _to see Merlin. "Here." Scooping the little bunny, she placed it in his lap. "Mokona, show him." Immediately, the 'thing' jumped up, its eyes wide like saucers. Scaring the living beejeebees out of him.

"Wha…??"

The creature opened its mouth wide and soon all Arthur could see was a swirling vortex of colour and light. 'Where am I?' He wondered. He was falling gently forward, nothing suspending him, there was a cool breeze gently caressing him as he fell. As suddenly as he was in the vortex, there was a bright light that enveloped him and upon opening his eyes, he found himself in a darkened hallway. "What's this??" He hissed at the ugly bunny. The creature merely jabbed a stump to its right. At the end of the hallway was a door standing slightly ajar. Switching instantly to his predator mode, he stalked his way towards it.

Nudging the door with his shoulder, he stealthily moved inside. Arthur was thanking whatever Gods that existed here that his feet were bare. It was a spacious room with a bed in the far corner, tall windows looking out to some tree. The furniture in this room was kept to a minimal, and the prince couldn't help but to think that he actually liked the arrangement. His attention was directed to the bed when there was a soft rustling of sheets.

"_Merlin_??!"

He couldn't help the exclamation that escaped his lips when he saw the warlock snuggling-_**SNUGGLING-**_ with…

_Him_. Arthur would've remembered that shade of blonde anywhere.

Wait.

What the fucking blazes was he in such close physical proximity with the bleeding bastard in the first place???????? Enraged, he crossed the final distances to the bed to drag _his _lover away from that disgusting creature that dares to call himself a man. What stopped him was when Merlin opened his eyes and stared up towards the other warlock. And that was the look that he gave _him_ when he thought he was still sleeping. The look was a sweet mixture of admiration, utter love and adoration, respect and devotion. That was the look that made him fall in love much deeper each time. It was then that he felt a stab of pain at his chest.

The other man gradually opened his own eyes. "It's rude to stare, you know?" He said with a smile as he pulled Merlin closer. To Arthur's further horror, Merlin did not fight. Why should he? The look had said it all.

It was obvious that they couldn't see him. Arthur spent another two more minutes standing there, by the bed watching Merlin in another man's arms. But what was two minutes to the world, felt like a slow agony of eternity for him.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

**J: Don't kill me! Don't kill me!!!! I have good reason to put our darling prince in this predicament. And you'll find out……**

**In the next chapter. **

–**Smiles ominously- You still love me? Please still love me??**


	10. Difference

**A/N: Okay. This chapter is rather DouWata-centric (For those who don't know, that's DoumekiXWatanuki, a pairing from Xxxholic) And I've got to say though, this won't be the only one. (Sorry!) I'm moving this fic to the crossover section soon. Anywho… Here goes nothing.**

"He hasn't spoken since he got back." Watanuki says quietly as Doumeki slips his arms around his waist. The taller youth pressed his lips softly on the skin behind his ear, causing his hand to slice the apple a little too big and a little too close to his thumb.

"Sorry." Doumeki murmured, snitching the irregularly sliced piece and devouring it. Normally this action would cause an epic flail reaction, but today there was nothing.

"'S okay." The slighter teen went back to his chore. Without missing a beat, Doumeki eased long slender fingers from the handle of the knife.

Watanuki leaned back into the warmth and solid weight. "You're worried." Deep baritone voice said as they gazed out the window. Doumeki could feel soft chuckles course through the body in his arms.

The eye roll obvious in his voice, Watanuki retorted, "Thank you very much for pointing that out. It was very much appreciated." Though his voice was dripping with sarcasm, he turned around anyways and pressed his body harder into the embrace. "I'm just worried. About Arthur-san. H-He just seems… Like a piece of him died when Mokona spirited him back."Pausing, he pressed his cheek against Doumeki's chest. "Hey, promise me something?" His quiet voice amplified in the kitchen bathed in golden sunlight, the strong steady heartbeats thrumming against his cheek. "Promise me that if –if something like this happens to me. And you have to move on-"

"No."

"No? Doumeki-"

"We're not having this conversation." Doumeki said stiffly, pushing the slighter male away slightly. "It's not going to happen to you."

Watanuki's mismatched eyes narrowed. "It could happen to _me_! Chances are, someday this sort of shit could happen to me! _To me_, Doumeki. Someday, some sorcerer, wizard, or creature is going to try and hurt you to get to me. God knows that the possibility of it happening is more likely than unlikely." Reaching up, he softened his eyes and cupped his cheek. "And you're probably going to get hurt in the cross-fire. I don't want that, Shizuka." Doumeki flinched at the use of his given name. It's the name that he uses when he really wants something from the temple boy. It's the name that Watanuki cries out when he comes and clings on to him like he's the only thing keeping him here. "I want you safe. Unharmed, because even Yuuko-san can't watch out for us all the time."

"I'm durable. I can stand it, whatever it is they want to throw at me, I'll take it." Doumeki drew him back into his embrace. "I won't let them take you without a fight."

"Idiot." Watanuki sniffed, burrowing his nose into the material of the shirt. "I'm trying to get you to promise me something to keep you safe and you're ignoring it."

Doumeki's smile could be heard in deep rumbles of his chest. "You're my life. Just as Merlin-san is Arthur-san's lifeline. If I was him, I'd do the same too. I'd fight for you." Pausing, " Just as he's planning to fight for Merlin-san."

"He is?"

"I know the type."

Humming slightly, they let the pause settle around them in a cloak of silence. "Then promise me that you'd _try _not to get too injured."

"Fine." Kissing the brunette on the crown of his head. "Promise you'd let me fight for you."

Huffing, the bespectacled teen pouted. "There's no getting around you, is there?"

This time, Doumeki cupped his cheeks and kissed him, swiping his tongue against plump lower lips. "No. There isn't. Because you're worth fighting for."

Tipping the delicate cup back, Arthur grimaced as the burn of the alcohol made its way down his throat. He'd retched out everything he'd eaten the moment the black furball touched down in the backyard of the witch's shop.

_Blue eyes the colour of summer skies looking up into his as he thrusts deeper into him. Long slender fingers stoke his flank, brushing against the pale scar, visible in the glisten of sweat, cooler than the other parts of his skin. "Arthur." He whispers, dragging his name into four syllables. "Arthur." In a moan, like a prayer. He knows that his fingers will leave a ring of bruises in the morning, and in some sick, twisted way, he wants it, likes it. Merlin is his and only he gets to mark him his way._

"I lost him." Arthur says quietly as the vision recedes to the dark vaults of his mind. "Didn't I?"

Yuuko merely spares him a sideways glance. "Young Pendragon, Merlin has not forgotten his love of you. Besides, you could never have had lost something that is ingrained into the very fibres of your being."

"What are you trying to say?" He manages after a short pause. "You didn't see the way that he looked into his eyes. It-It was the way he looked at me."Swallowing, "Now he's looking at him." The crickets began to sing in the rapidly fading light as he took another swig from the cup. Mokona, had poured him another one as he finished.

"One half can never truly be whole without the other that makes it so." Yuuko says softly, placing a cool hand over his. "Merlin loves you. He still does."

"Then-"

"I have no explanations for what you saw."

A pause. "Watanuki said- He said that you took a price for every wish you granted. What was mine?"

"The knowledge of what you saw." Yuuko answers after awhile, flicking her long dark hair over a pale shoulder. "The knowledge that Merlin lies in another's arms and is happy."

"He's happy?"

"You know what you saw." Turning her body, she held his chin. "So what are you gong to do now?"

"_Arthur?" He asked after they'd made love in the meadow. The skies were the brilliant sapphire blue that seem to take after Merlin's eyes themselves. He'd been absently rubbing circles onto his skin, watching the falcon flying by above them. When he made a non-committal answer, the warlock in his arms untangled himself from his lover, and straddled the prince. Clasping his hand, he brought it up to his chest, where his heart was beating like a thousand hoof beats. "Remember this. That I live to love you. That I live to make _you _ whole." And then he grinned. That grin that was wide and open and trusting and over flowing with love, adoration and respect. The kiss that followed began the motion all over again._

"What will you do with this knowledge?" Her voice was like smooth velvet, drawing him back.

"_I love you forever, Arthur Pendragon. I love you."The first time he says as sleep draws him in._

"_You're a prat. A royal prat. But my prat nonetheless." He smiles and plants a kiss on his lips._

"_I can never forgive myself. If anything should happen to you." He presses their foreheads together. "Never."_

"I-I…." _Merlin smiling as he gave him a simple daisy from a bouquet in Morgana's room, like it was the world's most beautiful rose, making him feel guilty that it was just a daisy. Merlin sprawled against the stark whiteness of his linen sheets. Merlin's lashes flutteringly dark against the paleness of his cheeks. Merlin's eyes flashing gold as he casts a spell to protect them both. Merlin's lips forming a little 'O' as he kisses his way south. _"I want." _Merlin, eyes darkened over and clouded with lust. Merlin begging and crying his name. Merlin's arms around him and he knows he's home. _"I want him back. I want him back here. With me." Arthur says in a whisper, but in the small space between him and the Dimensional Witch, it was the loudest shout he could ever muster.

Yuuko merely smiled and turned her eyes up to the moon in the blood red tinged sky. "Then we've got work to do."


	11. Guises, ducks, and prodigies in parks

**A/N: For maskedpainter who kindly asked for an update, mrs_leary over at LJ who is an **_**Awesome**___**Merlin**__**RPS-er and to whom I bow in reverent awe every single time (Check out her fics and see what I mean), MakotoJinx who says the battle is on and with whom my plot bunnies agree, and to all of you reading this (regardless whether you've been reading this from the start or have just started following). Bet you didn't expect to see me update this soon.**

Mars Bars, Merlin decided, were the next best thing to sex. The burst of sweetness, the soft caramel melting on his tongue, the chocolate swirling around in his oral cavity, the _sensations_. It was amazing how something this small, all wrapped up, could be so…so….

Charles' laugh brought him back from whatever he was thinking. The wind whipped the tails of his hair about, and the sunlight made the colour of his hair seem like burnished dark gold. Reaching over, he kissed the side of Merlin's lips. "You've got some chocolate there." He announced, smiling as he drew away. Slipping his arm around his shoulder he turned his eyes towards the oncoming crowd.

They were waiting in the shade of a tree, almost barren of leaves. Merlin was dressed in a dark long sleeved shirt with the words '**I is a college student'** emblazoned in red while Charles wore his teal turtle neck and looked like a movie star. Certainly, Merlin thought he had to be blind to not notice the looks some of the passing ladies were throwing at him. It reminded him of the visiting ladies who threw those said looks at Arthur.

It made him feel like he was betraying Arthur, but the sharp pang in his chest was now a dull ache. And that made it even worse.

"You okay?" Charles asked worriedly. "Are you cold?" Moving his arm around Merlin's neck, he wrapped a red woollen scarf. Merlin smiled and shook his head. Even now, it was still hard to believe that this man, this _person_ was the same person who'd blackmailed him into following him into this strange new world and somehow or rather managed to make him fall for him inexplicably, unadulterated, unexpectedly, undeniably. Green eyes sparkled as he smiled once more and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. Leaning in, Merlin draws on that warmth all the bit more.

"Papa! Papa!"

They turn towards the child hurtling down the path, scattering leaves in his wake. The clothes that had been piled on him make him look like a little canon ball of cloth. But he's grinning wildly, obviously pleased. And Merlin cannot mistake him for anything than Charles' child. '_He has his eyes_.' He ponders as the child draws near and the blonde gets up to catch the boy, lifting him up and spin him around in the air. Merlin couldn't help but to feel a little wistful about the whole scene.

"You must be he. The one he's been mooning over about." Merlin looks up to see a pretty red head smiling and sitting down next to him, in the spot that was recently vacated by her ex-husband.

"And you must be Anna. Charles tells me about you."

"I hope they were good things?" Her smile was easy, eyes bright with quiet amusement.

Nodding, he matches her smile. "As good as one with his repertoire can manage." Catching her eye, they grin conspiratorially.

"I'm still here, you know." Charles retorts from where he stands with his son half way up his arms. "Besides, don't you know it's ill to speak of a person where they can still hear you?"

They both laugh then and Anna replies that Charles' moral values are so damn fucked up that it really doesn't matter it he hears them talking about his escapades in drag. August, the boy, tugs at his father's sleeve and points at the nearby pond. The little party gets up and moves towards the damn pond just because of the damn ducks that were quacking away on the rippled surface.

Soon, Anna takes up Charles' arm and they walk together up front while Merlin enchants the ducks closer and makes sure that August has unending supplies of duck feed. The child is a prodigy on his own; attentive to his surrounding, knowing almost everything that was happening. It also happened that he could tell what the couple on the other side of the park was doing. Which, by the way, was not really suitable for a child his age in Merlin's opinion. However, as he kneels close to him, he can't help but thank the gods above that this child, this _special _child will never have to fear prosecution, never have to fear his powers, never have to see the worry in his mother's eyes.

"Tammy says that because you live with Papa, you're going to be my dad. She's got two Tads." He says suddenly. "Is it true? Are you my other Papa?" His eyes suddenly bore into his blue orbs. '_Damn, this child is inquisitive._' Merlin thinks, blushing suddenly.

"I really don't know." Pausing as he hands him some more feed. "Do you want me to?" The question evokes a length of silence from him. Merlin finds himself studying the boy. While his eyes were exact replicas of Charles', his hair was a warm mixture of red and gold that curled at his ears. Small childish hands that Merlin knows will lengthen into elegant slenderness; the child burrows half his face into the scarf.

Finally, brushing his hands together with the older warlock, he smiles up at him. "If you become my Papa too, you have to call me Aggy. 'Coz only my Papas and my Mama calls me Aggy." Merlin finds himself smiling back. Really, this kid is too adorable.

Suddenly, strong arms slink their way around his waist and he finds himself at the receiving end of a soft, chaste kiss. Charles and Anna declare that the day is getting on and they have to get going now.

Dutifully, Merlin gave Anna a kiss on her cheek and promised to call (whatever she could've meant) as soon as possible. Dropping to a crouch, he hugged the little boy and whispered softly into his curls, "Bye Aggy." Drawing back, he found himself the victim of a full-on cuteness onslaught.

"Bye Papa Merlin!" Aggy waved as he slipped his hand into his mother's amidst the bemused expressions of his parents, although he could see that both said parents were visibly fiercely proud.

"You okay?" Charles asks as he slips his arm around his waist again. Merlin no longer flinches at the contact as he once would've. The gesture is comforting and warm in the face of the wind. Leaning into the touch, they walk towards the East entrance, where Anna and August had just left by.

Nodding, the slighter warlock turned his gaze at him, not noticing the old man coming at him.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." He apologised profusely. Apparently his clumsiness had not left him when he left Camelot. "Here let me help you." He untangled himself from Charles and bent down to help the old man with his food items. As he was stuffing the plastic bags with metal cans scattered around from the collision, the old man grabbed his arm.

"One half that does not fit will never make the other whole." He whispered right in his ear. And Merlin's blood ran cold.

"You?" The single word came out in shaky three syllables. "What are you doing here?"

The old man cocked a lazy eyebrow, drawing his dirty ragged blue cap downwards. "You do not belong here, Young Warlock. Your place is by Arthur and no where else. _That _is your destiny."

"Well, it's not as if I can go back can I?" Merlin huffed, continuing with returning the newly revealed Dragon's. "Why are you here anyways?"

"Different dimension different guise." Came the nonchalant reply as he got to his feet. Merlin handed him the bags with a sinking pit feeling that they will meet again sooner than later. "It's still pretty primitive to walk though." He sniffed disdainfully.

Merlin stood as he ambled away into the park. Just as he turned to leave, the gravelly voice drew his attention back. "Do not get too comfortable. Your prince has just decided to fight for you." Pausing a little, he chuckled. "And there will be bloodshed. Make your choice, or fate will make it for you."

When Merlin turned around, the Dragon was gone. He let the shiver from those words course through his veins. A soft kiss and a hand slipping into his drew him back to reality.

"I'm fine." He said before the blonde could say anything else. Kissing him on the lips, he burrowed his hands deep into his beige trench coat. "Lets go home Charles."

**J: I know this is crap. But it's done around one in the morning because those accursed plot bunnies won't leave me alone and because I love you guys so much. ♥ (I have no idea it this works, but it's a heart command thing that works over at LJ) All mistakes are mine and mine alone because I don't have a beta. Oh. Can anyone teach me how to post my stuff here (FFnet) to those LJ communities? Commands, tags and all.**


	12. Dreams and rain

The rain made riveting tracks as it trailed downwards on the window. It's been two months now, since he got here and sometimes he still woke up panicking because he didn't know where he was half the time. He knew the little things that made this world ticked, money, clothes, love, magic, people in televisions telling them what to think, canned food, cars, houses with 5 bedrooms, 6 and a half bathrooms. Curling up in _his _oversized shirt, he leaned back into the cold glass.

Charles wasn't in today. The first time in a long time, there was a pang in his chest as the blonde shrugged on his coat and kissed him goodbye. There was a job he had to do, he said. There was something he needed to make sure about. Blue eyes stare into the distance, unseeing. How long was this dream going to last? Everyday was blurred in its edges. Everyday was somehow fuzzy and out of focus, like something that wasn't there. Everyday it was a little brighter than the last, everything hurt to look at and yet was soothing to him.

Maybe he just didn't belong here.

A chill settled in him, and he huddled closer into himself. If he didn't belong here, where does he belong?

"_Here. Next to me."_

In that instant, his heart stopped and beat a million horse beats. Whipping his head around, he placed a hand on the window, looking into the rain drenched garden. Without waiting for his mind to catch up with his heart, Merlin swung himself off the window seat and ran down the stairs, out the double French doors.

And there he was, all glorious in the rain. Arthur. His Arthur. His blue eyes watery and lashes low. Lips slicked, hair making rivulets, darkening his golden locks. The wetness had gathered on the red shirt he was wearing under the dark leather jacket, but Merlin's eyes were only on his Prince-no, his once and future King.

"Arthur." He breathed, stepping into the shower. Running as fast as his bare feet would let him on the wet grass, he launched himself towards the other man. The rain became a mask to his tears.

"Come back to me." Arthur whispered near his ear. "Please come back to me. I need you. I love you, Merlin. _Please_. Whatever it is, we'll work it out, I promise. I just want you back. Here with me. _I miss you_." Arthur's breath was hot against his ear.

"If you are my dream, please don't disappear. Not yet."

Holding on tightly, Merlin didn't want to let go. And it seemed like the feeling was entirely mutual. He felt large calloused hands run their way through his now damp locks. "I'm here in this realm you are in."

Pulling back, Merlin gazed into familiar orbs in shock. "How did you-? Is this even real?" He pulled back a little more, only to find himself in the strong embrace again. Burrowing his face into wet cloth he mumbled, "Please let it be real."

"It's about as real as the wind on your skin, you idiot." A soft quiet pause settled amongst them as the raindrops pattered against their skin. Merlin was sure he could feel the other man smiling in his word. "I can appear for you only for awhile. The witch-"

"The witch? What witch?"

"_Mer_lin, I haven't got much time." The Pendragon prince said exasperatedly. Suddenly, he felt himself being lifted up. Before he could mutter a word of protest, he was being carried through double French doors and into the warmth of the house. "I need you to listen to me." Blue eyes lowered to meet blue eyes. "I'm coming for you. If I have to fight this-this wizard.. I will. I will fight him for you. Even-"

"NO!" The warlock suddenly shouted, his voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the house. "You mustn't. Promise me!" Gripping the front of the prince's shirt, he shook him. "Don't- Do anything. Just. Don't."

"Do you love him that much?"

The question felt like a kick to his gut. Did he love Charles? As much as he loved Arthur? Blue eyes looking into his was sad. The softness in his voice felt like knives cutting his skin. "Is that why you don't me to fight him?"

"That's not it-"

"Then what is? Merlin, do you still love me?"

The question took him off guard. Instead of giving him an answer, he straddled him, and cupped his lover's face, kissing him. Arthur's hands immediately encircled his waist. The way they fit together was both known and felt in many different places than one. "Does that feel like my feelings for you have waned?" Merlin clung on desperately. The only response he got was the hand that snaked up his front. "I still live and breathe for you, Arthur. I'm still the other side of _our_ coin." He whispered as dexterous fingers encircled him, tightening as they moved up and down.

Arthur kept a hand on the small of his back while his other never stopped their ministrations. His lips felt like burning pokers on his skin, every single part of him that they touched felt like he was being, marked, and baptised with fire.

"What about him?" Hand pumping harder, Merlin gripped his coat tighter, moaning quietly against his skin. "What about that sorcerer of yours? What is he to you?" Suckling gently on the spot behind his ears, he made it hard for Merlin to think.

"H-He's important as well. I don't want to see him hurt be-**ah**-because he has people who… **Arthur**! Who truly-oh-truly care about him." Moving their heads until he could claim those sinful lips as his own, he kissed them raw. "I don't want to see either of you hurt." He whispered, close.

Arthur didn't say anything, but merely kissed him back with equal ferocity. His hand gave a final pump, and Merlin came crying into his kisses and shivering. "Then make your choice." His voice deep, surrounding the air around him.

"Arthur." Merlin finally managed as the darkness embraced him. "Is this a dream?"

A soft kiss on his forehead, and a stroke at his side, "It's what you think it is."

When Merlin came to, he was sleeping on the sofa, curled up into a ball. But for the first time in a long time, he felt light, calm, and invincible. Like nothing could touch him. He heard the front door click, signifying the return of the master of the house. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep again.

**J: How did I do this time? Bear with me on this, okay? Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all! Hope you enjoy the snow and the rain wherever you may be. It's certainly turning out to be a warm Christmas this year.**


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Merlin, Angst, Tragedy