Puissance: Chapter Seven
Title: Puissance: Chapter Seven
Author: ArthurMerlin
Artist: blood_songs90
Pairings/characters: Arthur/Merlin (minor: OC/OC, Gwen/Lancelot)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 30,798
Warnings: None
Summary:The turbulent times of Prime Minister Arthur Pendragon, in which war looms, betrayal waits in the wings, and unexpected love blossoms.
Disclaimer: Neither ArthurMerlin nor blood_songs90 owns any aspect of Merlin. No copyright infringement is intended.
.............................................................................................................................................................................................
Chapter Seven
Merlin collapsed into the armchair in Arthur’s study in the Prime Minister’s flat above Number 10. It had been an exhausting day. After the news of the missile strikes on Turkey, Arthur had been rushing around Whitehall speaking to ministers, civil servants, and representatives from the Turkish and Iraqi embassies. Two hours after the strikes Arthur received confirmation that Turkey had declared war on Iraq and had responded with aerial strikes around Mosul.
Arthur walked in, tore off his tie, and collapsed onto the arm of Merlin’s chair. He sighed deeply and rubbed his hand on his forehead.
“You’re my Private Secretary, Merlin, make this day go away,” he groaned.
“You’re the Prime Minister, Arthur, you make it go away.” Merlin sank lower into the chair and closed his eyes.
They lounged around in Arthur’s study for several hours, until the clock struck one o’clock in the morning. They had chatted, joked, and snacked on twiglets; anything to avoid talking about politics. Arthur found he enjoyed these times of the day - which had become a regular fixture in his life - more than any other. The King’s words to him still troubled him, though. He couldn’t understand what he had been implying; was friendship with a civil servant considered taboo? Because Merlin had certainly become a friend; a much closer friend than Arthur would have ever thought possible. He had wormed his way into Arthur’s life without Arthur particularly noticing, not that he minded of course.
“When’s Gwen coming home?” Merlin asked from his position laying on the settee with his feet on Arthur’s lap.
“Not for another week or so,” Arthur replied, “unless this Turkey business brings her back early. I won’t ask her to, though, there’s nothing she can do is there?”
“I suppose not,” Merlin agreed. They both went quiet again, and Arthur felt perhaps he should mention again King Edward’s words; to find out if Merlin was comfortable with their relationship. As he opened his mouth to speak, he heard a slight snore from the other end of the settee; he looked down to find Merlin sleeping peacefully.
Arthur smiled and sat for a few moments just watching his friend’s chest rise and fall with his breath. But then he gently removed himself from Merlin’s wayward limbs and went to fetch a blanket. He found one that was not too coarse, mindful of Merlin’s sensitive skin, and carefully tucked it around Merlin’s scrawny frame. The younger man immediately curled into its warmth and tugged it up around his chin. He cooed in his sleep, and muttered something which sounded dangerously like Arthur’s name.
Blushing and slightly embarrassed, Arthur beat a quick retreat to his and Gwen’s bedroom. He undressed methodically, folding his clothes and placing them neatly in the cupboard. Arthur walked over to the window and looked out over central London. The ethereal light of the moon shone through the glass and lit half of Arthur’s face. He thought how lucky he was that it wasn’t his capital that had been gutted by bombs, and spared a few sympathetic thoughts for the Turkish President.
He yawned widely and held a clenched fist to his mouth. Taking his body’s hint, Arthur retired to bed and quickly fell asleep.
It was a dreamless sleep, for the next moment Arthur was aware of, Merlin was gently shaking him awake.
“Merlin? What’s going on? What time is it?” Arthur garbled, still half asleep.
“It’s 5 o’clock, Arthur, I’m sorry to wake you.”
Arthur woke instantly then, as Merlin genuinely did look sorry to have woken him; something which never usually happened; “what’s wrong?”
“It’s the front pages,” Merlin began slowly, but trailed off in favour of simply handing Arthur a pile of newspapers.
The front page of every major paper in Britain was plastered with a photograph of Gwen hand-in-hand with Lance. The headlines all reflected the obvious interpretation; Gwen was cheating on Arthur with his own Deputy.
Arthur felt pure rage build in the pit of his stomach, not only at the suggestion the papers implied, but also at the damage this would do to his Government.
“That will be all, Merlin,” Arthur said in a clipped tone, not making eye contact with his secretary.
“But, Arthur…”
“That will be all!” Arthur snapped, and the sound echoed in the silence of the Number 10 flat.
Arthur did make eye contact with Merlin then, and was met by shock and a fair amount of hurt. The civil servant nodded and retreated from the room, leaving Arthur to his rage. And sure enough, as soon as Merlin left the room, Arthur screwed up the paper and threw it at the wall.
Checking his mobile, Arthur found several missed calls from Gwen. He called his voicemail and heard Gwen’s voice speaking frantically at the other end:
“Arthur, it’s me! Please pick up, or please call me back? I’ve seen the papers, it’s not what you think, I promise. I love you, Arthur. Please call me?”
She had left two other voicemails which basically said the same thing, so Arthur deleted them all.
He got out of bed, showered and dressed, then made his way into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled, he checked his diary; meetings with the Iraqi diplomatic corps, followed by a meeting with Gwaine on proposals to replace GCSE’s, and a meeting with Lance to discuss recent hikes in unemployment.
Arthur cringed; that was the first time he had ever read Lance’s name and felt an accompanying feeling of revulsion. His political instincts kicked in; it wouldn’t bode well for him if he fell out with his Deputy. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t understand how he and Gwen could do this to him, and the timing couldn’t have been worse with the Turkey/Iraq crisis having just exploded into open war.
It was then that Arthur’s eye caught another story on the front page of the Guardian - one of the papers that had escaped being screwed up - and his heart sank even further; the headline simply read: “Russian troops cross border into Georgia.”
Ostensibly to help quell recent riots in major Georgian cities, Russian troops had advanced during the night and captured most of northern Georgia. The capital was likely to fall, according to the article, within the next 24 hours. The Russian assault had been, by all accounts, overwhelming, precise, and lightning quick.
This was all Arthur needed; a second major international scandal, on top of the first, and now a domestic crisis to handle as well.
“Keep calm and carry on,” Arthur said with exasperation as he dialled Gwen’s number.
“Arthur! Oh, thank God you called, are you alright?” She sounded panicked and was clearly in a busy place as Arthur could hear voices all around her.
“Alright? What do you think? Gwen, this couldn’t have been timed any worse! Do you know how difficult this will be to hush up?! God, did you even think?!” Arthur’s voice got steadily louder until he was shouting down the phone; the first time he had ever shouted at Gwen.
“I know,” Gwen whispered, and Arthur could hear the sniffles of her crying.
“Come home. Now,” Arthur ordered, in his best imperative tone, and hung up the phone. He needed her to come back; he couldn’t give the media fuel for their fire by keeping her in Manchester. His mind was already formulating a plan to minimise the damage and concentrate media attention on the foreign matters.
“Merlin!” Arthur shouted, “Merlin!”
The younger man came rushing into the flat, evidently he had only been waiting outside the door. Arthur secretly loved him for that; even though he’d sent him away, he hadn’t gone far.
“Get me the Russian Ambassador.”
“Yes, Arthur,” Merlin said with a nod and typed a message into his blackberry, “he’ll be here in an hour.”
“No. Sooner than that. Have him here in no more than twenty minutes.”
Merlin looked at Arthur sceptically; “but it’s so early, he won’t even be awake.”
“Trust me, he’ll be awake.”
Sure enough, twenty minutes later Merlin was showing Vladimir Rustov into the drawing room of Number 10. Arthur was pacing in front of the fire, which had been lit to take the edge off the morning chill.
“Sit down, Mr. Rustov,” Arthur said, gesturing to a chair. The Russian hesitated, as Arthur himself made no move to sit down.
When the ambassador was seated, Arthur continued to pace, and spoke as he walked to and fro; “I’ve been told that Russian Armed Forces have illegally occupied the northern areas of Georgia. This is completely unacceptable, Ambassador, and the United Kingdom will oppose this action in every way that we can. Indeed, we demand Russian troops be withdrawn from Georgian territory immediately.
“Prime Minister, with all due respect…”
“With no respect at all, Mr. Rustov! No respect for international law, no respect for the people of Georgia. This is a brazen act of colonial aggression, carefully timed to coincide with the Iraqi attack on Turkey.”
“I assure you, Prime…”
“I have no doubt,” Arthur continued, “that your President plans to invade Turkey in support of your ally Iraq; presumably after Turkey’s superior land forces move into Iraq itself, am I correct?”
“Certainly n…”
“And where will it end, Mr. Rustov? Naturally Russian troops will remain stationed in Iraq long after the war with Turkey is over; the ally becomes the annexe, as it were.”
“Prime Minister, this is outrageous!” the Ambassador shouted, growing increasingly agitated.
“No, Mr. Rustov, what is outrageous is your government’s action last night.”
The Ambassador breathed deeply for a few breaths before replying; “The Russian Federation is not a colonial power, we have acted only in accordance with our law. Not one Russian troop will be removed from Georgian soil until the rioters have been put down. There will be no more discussion on this matter.”
“Then there is little point for you to remain here, Mr. Rustov,” Arthur said, finally sitting down in his own chair by the fireplace.
“Very well, Prime Minister, I will return to the embassy.” He rose to his feet and gave Arthur a quick bow of his head.
“No, Mr. Rustov, I fear you misunderstand me,” causing the Ambassador to stop in his tracks, “I mean you have no reason to remain in this country. In a word, Mr. Rustov - get out. And take your rabble with you.”
Merlin smiled from his vantage point on the other side of the room; he felt pride swelling in his chest at how Arthur was standing up to the large, tough-looking Russian agent.
“I beg your pardon, sir!” Rustov roared.
“Go back to Russia. You and your diplomatic staff are no longer welcome on British soil. Now, if you will excuse me, I have work to attend to. Merlin! Show Mr. Rustov out, and be sure to give him directions to Heathrow, won’t you?” Arthur said, rising to his feet and waltzing out of the room as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Rustov stood dumbfounded in the drawing room, boiling with fury and unsure what to do with himself. Nevertheless, Merlin approached him and gently showed him out. He hoped Arthur knew what he was doing; expelling the ambassador was much more drastic a reaction than other Western nations. But perhaps it would grab the headlines which Arthur would need to distract attention from Gwen.
...
Chapter Eight