by GR Griffin
“Oh lord…”
Self-consciously gazing down at his clothing, Merlin frowned. His fingers traced the hem of his cotton shirt nervously. Looking back up at the blonde man curiously, he watched him wear a similar expression.
"Look. I’ve had enough shit from Morgana today.” Chewing his lip impatiently, Arthur waited for Morgana’s revenge to say something, do something. The man beside him stood motionless, eyes a little wide, head titled as if he were a bit confused. Raising a hand, Arthur gestured for the man to speak, so far he had remained silent. The man made no attempt to respond. In fact, he was insolent enough to turn his head away and start admiring the bloody elevator instead.
“Go on then. Call me a…two-faced, evil basted already or whatever.”
Unfamiliar with this amount of foul language, Merlin blinked in surprise at the tone of voice. The fact that he was hurling such foul words at him didn’t make the situation any better either.
“Excuse me?” Merlin asked, a twinge of annoyance beginning to emerge.
It was then Arthur’s eyes studied the one thing they’d skimmed over, the face. His cheekbones were a prominent feature, deep enough to create their own shadows against the lower part of his cheeks. It was strangely captivating. The lips were a surprise also, plump – a little feminine – and…eyes flickering upwards, he met the eyes. How had he missed those? He’d never looked upon more mysterious eyes. Deep enough to swim in, subtle shades of blue cascading through the iris gracefully, and ripples of something Arthur couldn’t put his finger on. It was then Arthur established he had taken too long to reply. Hastily he gesticulated towards the terrible clothing.
“You know you really ought to change out of…” the open doors of the strange box became obscured by a new figure, but it was a change in the background neither noticed. Laughing, Arthur failed to find the right words, hands on hips lips pursed.
“I get it. It’s supposed to be funny. But people will actually think you’re a druid.”
As the elevator doors closed, another voice spoke out before Merlin could object.
“The jerk’s right you know. For once.” The intruder supplied, thick strands of brown hair draping on each side of his face that was lined with light stubble. He quickly examined Merlin’s appearance and wrinkled his nose almost sympathetically.
“They’ll take you down to the lab, (Merlin’s eyes lit up – the lab. Exactly where he wanted to go.) And then the joke will be on you mate.”
Leaning casually against the door, the brown-haired male studied Merlin silently.
“I assure you.” Merlin began sternly. “I’m not here to joke around.”
Glancing over at the elusive man in druid attire, Arthur smiled. Perfect. Wrapping an arm around him in response, he peered past him to smirk at Gwaine. The raven-haired man gazed anxiously from the firm hand on his shoulder, to the suddenly uplifted blonde man, whose dazzling teeth were now on display.
“Ah, that’s what Camelot Enterprise likes, an employee,” an imbecilic one at that, Arthur thought smugly. “with the right mind-set.”
Patting Merlin on the shoulder patronisingly, Arthur shot Gwaine a look of triumph, clearly making some sort of personal jibe at the other man who raised his eyebrows. The man in the middle, still in Arthur’s grasp, looked as if his ears of doom were about to literally burst steam. Arthur realised that his tongue might have spat out the imbecile part anyway. Quick to get himself out of the blonde’s hands and refusing to be an object of humiliation, Merlin plastered on his innocent look.
“I’m just here to see my friend.” He said simply.
Which little did they know meant he was breaking into the lab and attempting an impossible rescue mission. Taking a step forward, Merlin noticed the strange dials on the walls with numbers imprinted on them.
“Friend. Hear that Gwaine, Camelot Enterprise does offer an environment in which friendships can be made for all kinds of um…” glancing back over the man who was crouched down beside the numbers, Arthur’s words faded away. Gwaine’s eyes followed in the same direction, an amused look on his face.
“So,” Arthur cleared his throat taking a step forward. The man dressed in druid-attire leapt up to his feet, eyes wide with avid interest. “What level erm…”
“If I press a number, it will take me to that floor!” he exclaimed, turning back to the panel on the wall.
Unable to resist pissing off Arthur, Gwaine grinned.
“Yes, it’s magic-“
Arthur spun around to face his friend, luckily unable to see Merlin’s countenance (he was smiling). Jabbing a finger into Gwaine’s scruffy suit, the blonde’s eyes narrowed. Merlin took this opportunity to properly establish where on earth he was going. Shutting his eyes, he cleared his mind.
Gaius. Where are you?
No reply. Fingers fumbling over the numbers, Merlin stopped and hovered over 3. His palm tingled a little. But then he pressed on; a laboratory would not be on an accessible floor like that surely? It either had to be at the top…
“-Here of all places you chose to joke about magic. If anyone else heard you-“
The top seemed unlikely. Why would Uther Pendragon keep the druids at the top of the building? Not only did it symbolise that the druids had secret control and power, but it would be difficult to contain everything. Eyes searching the dials, Merlin frowned. Gaius still hadn’t replied. Concerned, he tired again, clearing his mind.
Gaius!
Gwaine loved teasing Arthur. He was so uptight all the time, following his father’s orders as if nothing else on the planet mattered more. Shrugging at Arthur, Gwaine’s squinted eyes lit up in mischief.
“Times change, people change-”
Merlin’s ears quirked upwards a little in response to one of the druid’s famous sayings…or the laboratory would be at the very bottom.
“Not in Camelot they don’t.” Arthur snapped, eyes drifting back to the other man.
Pressing the lowest button, Merlin took a step back, immediately feeling an emotional overload rock his system. He could hear racing heartbeats, taste fear. Trying to brush the intense waft of captured druids to the back of his mind, Merlin noticed the other’s eyes had landed on the lit-up dial. In shock, Arthur’s eyes bounced between the dark-haired man and the button. This kid sure had guts.
“Shit! Morgana must have put you up to this!” He belted out suddenly. “You’re walking into the labdressed like that?” The blonde’s words confirmed two things for Merlin: 1) he had picked the correct floor 2) this guy was becoming increasingly insufferable.
It took a few moments to realise the prat was still talking.
“Holy fuck (Merlin’s eyes tripled in size at the word.) How much did she pay you? She should’ve learnt by now from her last fucking political demonstration- ”
Unable to play the nice guy any longer, Merlin glowered at the blonde and unleashed the annoyance that had been slowly boiling the past few minutes.
“-Listen you…self-centred prat!” Gwaine removed his weight from off the wall, now gazing upon the man with interest. “I’d rather like it if you shut your mouth and stopped talking.”
Gaping at the notion that somebody, who wasn’t Morgana, had spoken to him in such a manner- told him to shut-up - Arthur scowled.
“You can’t address me like that. Do you know who I am?” a laugh of disbelief left his lips, eyes focusing on the other man.
Unsure why, words erupted from Merlin’s mouth, spewing into the air before he could scoop them back up and properly register what was coming out.
“No and I don’t care. But within the last minute, I’ve learnt enough about you to know that you’re vain- even as I’m talking you’re secretly casting evocative glances at yourself in your reflection. (Arthur averted is eyes from the mirror rapidly, Gwaine slapped a hand over his mouth to conceal his delight.) You’re pompous, you stand tall to intimidate those around you, make others feel small. You’re overbearing, very overbearing; you think you’re the greatest t
hing known to man, and the foul language that comes out of your mouth…” The look that occupied the dark haired man’s face was one of complete horror.
“I’m sure my father will be enthralled to hear all about how you verbally abused me.” Arthur said tauntingly, pulling out his phone swiftly.
Merlin raised his eyebrows and let slip a huff of disagreement.
“Verbal abuse-?” that was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “Oh come on you glorified prat, even he (he hand gestured to the giggling Gwaine) knows more than half of what I just said is true-”
“-Hey don’t bring me into this.” Gwaine protested, voice light and bubbly. “this isn’t my kind of scene. I’m no troublemaker.” The rugged smirk tugged over the man’s lips and blatant amusement deeply suggested otherwise. But Arthur and Merlin weren’t listening to him.
“-yes verbal abuse-“
“-Who do you think you are-“
“-I’m Arthur fucking Pendragon. The son of Uther Pendragon, and future successor to Camelot Enterprise.” Arthur proudly stated. Watching the druid-dressed man’s lip form an ‘o’ shape, he grinned – worked every time.
If he were a normal druid, who didn’t do stupid things like breaking into Camelot or constantly defying his father- leader of the clan- Merlin would have been scared. No. He would have been terrified. In fact, he may have teleported himself out of the elevator without hesitation. But he wasn’t normal. For reasons he couldn’t understand, he wasn’t scared. He was angry. He was standing face to face with a Pendragon. All the rage and turmoil he felt for the thousands who had been taken by the Pendragon’s suddenly seared through his body like a wild fire.
“Wow…” he stammered in awe, or what Arthur interpreted as awe. “that’s…sorry.” His lips quirked upwards. “It’s just – is that supposed to change anything?”
Merlin had absolutely no idea where this surplus amount of confidence had sprouted from. He wasn’t a troublemaker. He made note to bottle up this ridiculous bravado the moment the blonde man strode towards him ominously.
“I could take you apart with one blow.”
He tried; he really, really did try. Unfortunately, the bottle just wouldn’t screw up. Somehow, this all was actually…hilarious.
“Oh I could take you apart with less than that.” Merlin sneered. Little did Arthur know that this was very much true.
Balling his fists, taking a step back from this infuriating man, Arthur glared challengingly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.”
“John Smith.”
The man who had been watching the pair with amusement finally released the swell behind his tightened lips. The howls of laughter echoed through the elevator.
“Oh Arthur! I like this one!” he grinned at ‘John Smith’ in approval, patting him hard on the back.
Merlin wasn’t sure why what he said was so funny. Will had told him John Smith was one of the best unsuspecting names to disguise your druid identity, alongside Harry Potter, Chuck Norris and David Tennant. Resisting the urge to collide his fist with that pretty, and somehow haunting face, Arthur gritted his teeth. This was an outrage. Morgana was never going to hear the end of this, he was going to make certain of it. Opening his messages, he quickly typed out a text and sent it to her mobile:
How many times do I have to apologise for something out of my control? This demonstration has just surpassed stupidity now.
A pang of relief flushed through him when the silver doors opened finally at his level.
"Well,” putting the phone into his pocket, he combed a hand through his hair. “it was pleasure meeting you John Smith.” His voice oozed sarcasm, suggesting the complete opposite.
“I can’t say the same for you, dollophead.”
Pausing as he exited the elevator, Arthur narrowed his eyes in bewilderment. Had he just called him a…dollophead? The doors closed as Arthur turned back around to cast one final insult at this ‘John Smith’ a second too late. Inside, Gwaine, still laughing, nudged Merlin.
“Okay, so who do I really have to thank for completely walking all over Pendragon?”
Smiling back at the man he had heard Arthur Pratdragon call Gwaine, Merlin held out his hand warmly. Although he knew to be wary of these people- they were renown for betrayal and deceit after all- Merlin sensed something good about Gwaine. For one, he seemed to also have the audacity to insult the young Pendragon. Jokingly or not, it was still admirable, and those smirking eyes told him this man was probably rebellious – not the kind to turn in a person who looked like a druid for instance. Knowing he should probably use another fake name, Merlin found the truth slipping out effortlessly as Gwaine shot him an effortless smile.
“Merlin. My name’s Merlin.”
Idiot! Not reaching for Merlin’s hand, Gwaine’s expression mutated into one of caution.
“Merlin…isn’t that a druid’s name?”
Eyes wide in fear, Merlin felt his heart accelerate in his chest. He had been found out! There was no escaping now, and he was going down to the lab anyway.
“No! I mean…yes. B-but I.” he stuttered clumsily.
A warm hand pressed against his shoulder, silencing him.
“Merlin,” Gwaine’s eyes crinkled humorously. “Can’t you tell when someone’s messing with you?”
Exhaling the air that he had swallowed and held onto, Merlin gasped. Tensely, he too chuckled a little. Another ping, and Gwaine made his way closer to the door.
“We should do this again sometime.”
By “this”, Merlin assumed Gwaine meant tormenting Arthur Pendragon to the brink, which was something surprisingly the druid had found more entertaining than he’d expected.Stepping out of the elevator, the mischievous male winked.
“Good luck down there.” He gestured towards Merlin’s clothes, and offered a pensive smile. “You’ll need it Merlin.”
♦☼♦
The next few minutes had been the most intense of his life, Merlin was positive of this. His heart was pounding rapidly against his ribcage, threatening to burst out of his skin and convulse on the floor. His breathing was shallow, eyes wide. It had only dawned on him now fully what he was going to try and do. To break into a lab, normally it was people trying to break out, and to find Gaius, it was suicide. Merlin was unsure what atrocities he would see down there. All he knew was that it was a terrible place. Sometimes, according to the lucky ones that had escaped but were too full of fear to properly talk about it, the doctors performed experiments, tests to try and understand what magic was. The fear Merlin felt faded away instantly, replaced with avid rage. That was the problem with the human race, their insatiable hunger for knowledge, for ultimate understanding; to become supreme rulers.
He knew the enclosed box was getting close now. Small pockets of other people’s emotions were sifting through his magic’s subconscious. First he felt a scream tear through his chest, vibrating his whole body. Then had come the waves and waves of pleas, the shrieks for help and devastating torment plagued is body. His eyes watered at the overwhelming experience passing through him. Magic and emotions were said to be intimately combined, but usually it only boiled down to a druid being able to decipher if somebody was on edge. However, in traumatic times, or near a place of great suffering and unanimous turbulence, it was rumoured that the magic inside would latch onto it, welcome in the pain of its people and weep for them. This was a very rare occurrence, recorded in the æmryš a mere handful of times as ‘magical-weeping’ - which had to mean that whatever was down there was beyond horrific.
This was the first time this magical-weeping* had happened to Merlin- and he prayed it would be the last.
Merlin wiped his wet eyes, wishing for the stabbing pain to pass quickly. He would be no use to Gaius writhing in his own skin. A moment later, the peculiar aura enclosed around him faded, leaving nothing but a haunting numbness in his fingertips. Swallowing-hard, he heard the woman’s mechanical voice state the floor level. The silver doors sl
id open slowly, revealing a long corridor with a white-tiled floor. Rooms were scattered to each side, alongside the occasional cry or scream.
Bravely, Merlin stepped out of the elevator, walking down the corridor. Metallic blinds placed over the glass hid the sources of the screaming that sounded every now and then. But that didn’t stop his magic peering through one of the windows. His heart almost stopped at the sight, and it took all of his strength to not regurgitate his insides in a mix of shock and repulsion right there and then. Panic flashed through his body, hands shaking. This was worse than he could ever imagine. And the eerie quietness of the hallways was terrifying. Holding a hand to his mouth, he leant against the wall to try and contain his own shriek of horror, wanting to erase the image from his mind.
Gaius…Gaius where are you?
Peeling himself from the wall, he continued forwards, swallowing down the painful lump of agony building up in his throat. No reply. A throbbing sensation pulsated through his head. Gaius was the one that had first taught Merlin how to do this, how to reach into the mind-network and communicate voicelessly. If he wasn’t replying, chances were it was because he couldn’t or because he was already d-…no. No, Merlin let a hysterical chuckle slip out of his lips. He wasn’t here to play stupid mind games with himself. If Gaius was…well…but if he wasn’t, standing around in this stupid corridor, playing ‘what if’ was not going to help at all. Plucking the final ounce of courage from the bottom of his stomach Merlin pushed on, surprised he hadn’t run into any of the workers yet.