Puissance: Chapter Four
Title: Puissance: Chapter Four
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.
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Chapter Four
Merlin hated going to the Civil Service Club, but was dragged along anyway by Cedric Ragetti - the Permanent Secretary to the Treasury. Cedric was a painfully thin Cambridge graduate who had begun a career in accountancy before finding his way into the Civil Service thanks to the patronage of one of his uncles. He’d risen through the ranks under Gaius’ tutelage until he caught the eye of Alined, who saw to it that he was promoted to the Treasury.
He and Merlin sat in the panelled drawing room of the club in luxurious leather armchairs, sipping glasses of whiskey and perusing copies of the daily papers.
“You can’t expect a politician to make up his own mind, Emrys, why do you think we’re here?” Cedric said replacing his tumbler on the table, “you have to make his mind up for him. The Treasury will never accept the use of military hardware against Iraq, those fancy little bombs cost far too much money.”
“And that’s the Chancellor’s view?” Merlin asked, leaning forward lest anybody hear their conversation.
“It soon will be, I’ll make sure of that,” the older man laughed.
Merlin looked somewhat confused, prompting Cedric to sigh and shake his head, “Emrys, what is the purpose of His Majesty’s Treasury?”
“To manage the nation’s finances?”
“No! It’s the make as much money as possible, and to hold onto said money for as long as possible. We don’t like tax cuts; so we don’t like the Tories. We don’t like paying for things; so we don’t like Labour either. We’d be much better off running the show ourselves, politicians are just pretty faces for the public to coo over or spit on, depending on how they feel. They’re like the monarchy, I suppose; they pretend to have power, but it’s the ones supposedly below who wield the sword of state. Their function, my dear Merlin, is ceremony; pomp, circumstance, and all that rubbish.”
“I can’t accept that, Cedric,” Merlin said with a disconcerted look on his face.
Cedric’s beady eyes narrowed as they glared at him; “sometimes I wonder if you’re cut out for this job, Emrys.”
Merlin squirmed under the scrutiny but steadfastly refused to look away. After a few tense seconds, Cedric seemed satisfied and returned his glance to his paper.
“So, what do you make of Agravaine?” Merlin asked, trying to get the conversation away from himself.
“The Chancellor, you mean. It’s best not to personalise them, Emrys. He’s wily, I’ll give him that. On the positive side, though, he doesn’t seem to have any ideas for changing the status quo, so on that basis I find it quite agreeable to work with him. It’s still early days, though.”
Cedric took another sip of his drink and glanced at his watch; “shouldn’t you be getting the PM ready for the reception tonight?”
It was the first day of a three-day state visit to Britain by Randy Bennett; the President of the United States of America. He had landed earlier in the morning and had been welcomed by the Royal Family; a stage of his visit which would conclude with a state banquet at Buckingham Palace that evening. Arthur, of course, would be present along with senior members of the Cabinet, and Merlin too had been invited.
When Merlin saw the time was approaching five o’clock, he shot up out of his chair and, muttering apologies, was off to change into his best white-tie evening wear. The plan was for him to travel from Number 10 in the Prime Minister’s car along with Arthur, Gwen, and Gwen’s private secretary.
…
“Stop fretting, Merlin, this can’t be your first state banquet,” Arthur said, hitting Merlin’s hand away as the younger man fiddled with the buttons on his cuff.
“Actually, it is,” Merlin confessed, the tips of his ears going slightly red.
Arthur rolled his eyes, but went red too when Gwen said; “don’t worry, it’s Arthur’s first banquet as well.”
The Prime Minister’s jaguar drove up the Mall largely unnoticed by the pedestrians. Arthur relished the quiet; for once he was not the centre of attention. It was obvious who was, however, when the car drove around the enormous memorial to Queen Victoria and through the iron gates into the magnificent Palace forecourt.
As the car pulled up to a stop by the grand entrance, a footman stepped forward and opened the door. Arthur stepped out and offered his arm to Gwen. She was dressed in a flowing green dress which was not ostentatious or flamboyant, but understated and rather practical. Arthur himself was in traditional evening wear, complete with white gloves, but minus the top hat. After Arthur and Gwen had been welcomed at the door by an equerry, Merlin and Mary (Gwen’s secretary) slipped quietly out of the car and followed discreetly behind them.
Arthur and Gwen were shown into the grand gallery, where the other guests were already assembling. They mostly numbered a mix of diplomatic and ambassadorial characters, alongside several famous American actors and actresses. Arthur put on his best smile and was sure to do the rounds of the diplomatic staff, introducing them to his wife and doing his bit to build relationships he could use in his more overtly political duties.
Merlin, meanwhile, chatted with Mary and other members of the Civil Service who congregated in a corner, content to be amongst their own kind.
Footmen dressed in red tunics brought canapés and glasses of champagne around to the guests. Merlin nursed a single glass, conscious that he didn’t want to become tipsy in the presence of the monarch, but gorged himself on the tasty little nibbles they were passing around.
As Arthur was talking genially with the Ghanian ambassador, trumpets sounded to herald the arrival of the King, the Prince Consort, and their American guest of honour. All eyes turned to the end of the gallery where, flanked on either side by heralds dressed in medieval-style tabards, His Majesty King Edward and his spouse His Majesty King Johan of Bavaria walked slowly and deliberately into the room with the bachelor President stood in between them.
King Edward was the first monarch to enter a same-sex marriage, something which had been opposed by Arthur’s father when he was Prime Minister but which had been guided through Parliament under Alined’s premiership. Arthur’s position on the matter was a subject of some national debate and his reaction at this first state event of his own premiership would, he was sure, be closely scrutinised. As such, when the crowds parted and Arthur found himself face-to-face with the tall and somewhat portly King Edward he bowed his head profoundly and offered his hand. The King’s handshake was oddly gentle for a man of his stature, and it surprised Arthur into relaxing his own usually very firm grip. Arthur then by-passed the President and repeated the bow and handshake with the Prince Consort. He then shook hands, without a bow, with President Bennett.
“Your Majesties, may I introduce Mrs. Pendragon?” Arthur said, gesturing for Gwen to step forward. With a low curtsy she approached King Edward, who took her hand and put her at ease with an easy smile. Again she repeated the gesture with King Johan, who thankfully engaged her in conversation and brought the awkward moment to a pleasant conclusion.
“How do you do Mrs. Pendragon? I believe we’ve met before…” the German said in his perfect English accent, displaying the effects of his Oxbridge education.
Within the United Kingdom, King Johan, whilst retaining the status of a King - and thus the title ‘Majesty’ - as crowned monarch of the Kingdom of Bavaria, held the constitutional position of Prince Consort; he was not considered sovereign, that position being held solely by King Edward. The situation was, of course, reversed in Bavaria, where King Edward held the status of Prince Consort.
In the final months of Alined’s premiership, King Edward granted the title ‘Prince of Wales’ to King Johan; a move which had caused a great scandal as it left no doubt as to which direction the succession would go should the King pass away. In particular it angered the King’s step-mother, the King’s father’s widow, who had held hopes that her son (the King’s half-brother) would be granted the title Prince of Wales when he came of age. King Edward’s move was interpreted by her, and by a large section of the country, as a deliberate attempt to disinherit her branch of the family in favour of a foreign dynasty. Arthur remembered the debates in Parliament; it was the hardest time of his political life. He chose to support the King’s decision, and nearly lost his leadership of the Conservative Party as a result. The King, for his part, had never forgotten Arthur’s support and the two had struck up an unlikely but firm friendship.
Merlin watched from his vantage point tucked away amongst the crowd of people. He was startled, though, when Arthur turned to him and beckoned for him to come forward. Gingerly he stepped forward, the people in the room parting like the Red Sea to allow him through. Then, suddenly, Merlin found nothing but carpet between himself and the monarchs.
“Your Majesties, Mr. President, may I introduce Mr. Merlin Emrys? Mr Emrys is my Private Secretary; without him and I don’t know how I would be able to do my job.”
Arthur put his arm briefly around Merlin’s shoulders in a companionable gesture before releasing him so the younger man could bow and shake hands with the dignitaries. Merlin had never been so close to the royals before; he was shocked by the contrast. Edward certainly had more regal gravitas and seemed rather aloof, almost distant; whereas Johan was extremely handsome and rather more personable. Edward was taller than 6 feet, portly from the banquets he enjoyed perhaps too frequently, with receding short mousy hair, large blue eyes, and a small nose and mouth. Johan was, by contrast, just under 6 feet, well-built without being overweight, with just shy of shoulder-length brown hair. His large hazel eyes reflected a sense of fun along with his wide expressive mouth, where his aquiline nose spoke of nobility and heritage. In a strange way they complemented each other perfectly, and together completed the dual role a modern monarchy needed to be able to portray - distant, yet grounded; regal, yet personal.
Merlin noticed as Edward shared a quick glance and a slight smile with his spouse at the way Arthur put his arm around Merlin. It made him flush, so he concentrated on shaking the President’s hand to calm himself down. Luckily for Merlin, the awkwardness passed as Johan suggested the party make their way into the ballroom to take their seats.
The ballroom was a sight to behold; the towering white walls were accented with the finest gold detailing and complemented the white and gold stucco ceiling. From the ceiling hung several enormous crystal chandeliers which bathed the room in warmth and light. The carpet was rich scarlet, matching the velvet drape which hung over the twin thrones at the back of the room; the dais on which they stood formed the centrepiece, framed by simple but elegant white and gold arches. Behind the thrones, on the velvet drape, was embroidered the Royal Coat-of-arms; an English lion and a Scottish unicorn supporting the royal arms surrounded by the blue garter and the order’s ancient motto: honi soit qui mal y pense - shamed be he who thinks evil of it.
The grand dining table itself was arranged in a great horseshoe and draped in a fine white cloth. Each place setting was adorned with the silver gilt pieces of the Grand Service commissioned by George IV in 1811; each plate proudly displaying the same royal arms which watched over them from behind the thrones. The table was finally brought to life by stunning flower arrangements mostly making use of the English rose; a deliberate choice by King Edward to showcase the best of Englishness for the President’s visit.
The two monarchs sat at the head of the table; the President sat on King Edward’s right-hand side, and Arthur was sat with Gwen on King Johan’s left. Merlin was seated further down the table next to Gaius, for which he was grateful.
Merlin listened as best he could as King Edward gave a short speech in honour of the President, which the President duly reciprocated, and the first course was served. Merlin toyed with the fish course of poached salmon, picking at the edges only because he wasn’t a fan of fish at all. He glanced occasionally at the top of the table to see Arthur talking with King Johan. He waited a moment until Arthur’s eyes connected with his; he gestured at his half-eaten plate of salmon and rolled his eyes. Arthur chuckled and gestured with his eyes at his own plate; Merlin noticed then that Arthur hadn’t eaten his either.
“Gaius,” Cedric said from the other side of the table, drawing Merlin’s attention, “what do you make of Mordred Cerdan’s victory in Russia?”
“Truth be told, I’m worried,” Gaius replied, eagerly spearing another piece of salmon.
“Pray tell,” Cedric said as he leaned forward to hear better.
“Well, from what we can gather about him he seems to be something of a maverick. He’s implicated in several questionable acts in Chechnya. It’s nothing conclusive, of course, but it’s enough to make me suspect he’s not as perfect as his campaign made him seem to be.”
“Surely, though,” Merlin interjected, “a freely elected President in Russia is a good thing?”
“Depends who they freely elect, Emrys,” Cedric replied.
“Precisely,” Gaius said, dabbing his mouth with his napkin.
“It’s common knowledge that the weapons Iraq are threatening to use are Russian made,” Cedric continued.
“But Mordred can’t be held responsible for what the previous government was doing?”
Gaius pushed his finished plate of salmon away, “Don’t forget, Merlin, that Mordred was working closely with that government before he was elected.”
The Civil Servants hushed up as the royal waiters whisked away the fish course and supplied them with bowls of rose-water to wash their hands in before the main course of King Johan’s favourite minted lamb was brought out from the kitchens.
“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” Gaius continued as he tucked into his lamb, “if this ghastly business in Iraq was all Mordred’s doing. It’s a distraction, of course, he’s already making preparations to invade Georgia. Whilst the world’s attention is on Iraq, he’ll quickly and quietly annexe the poor place.”
“Well, then we must stop him!” Merlin said.
“Emrys, your idealism really must be tempered,” Cedric began sharply, “we can’t do anything about Georgia whilst Iraq is a problem. You see, the press are incapable of covering two international stories at once; and without any coverage of the Georgia situation there will be no public sympathy, and with no public sympathy the government has no grounds to commit British resources.”
“That’s ridiculous! What do we do then? Wait until after Russia annexes them and tut loudly in disapproval?”
Cedric chuckled; “no, Russia will annexe Georgia, the public will be livid and the government will get the blame. At the next general election, the government feels the wrath of the public’s displeasure and we get off scot free.”
Merlin looked over at Arthur again; this time he was talking with Gwen as the Kings carried on a conversation with the President. He whispered into Gwen’s ear then leaned back over to speak to the Kings. As he turned, he caught Merlin’s eye again and offered a slight smile. Merlin couldn’t help the slight blush that spread across his face. Over the short time he had been working with Arthur they had struck up an unlikely friendship; it was almost as if they had known each other for years.
King Johan must have said something amusing because Arthur threw his head back in laughter; laughter Merlin could dimly hear over the sound of the other guests talking. Merlin found himself staring at the line of Arthur’s throat, and the glint in his eyes when he looked back. Johan, too, laughed and then followed Arthur’s line of sight right to Merlin. It took Merlin a moment to realise the Prince Consort was looking at him, but when he did he inclined his head in a slight bow and returned to his lamb. But in the moment his eyes connected with Johan’s, he could see the monarch giving him a slightly puzzled and appraising look.
The banquet carried on with the dessert course, after which the Kings rose with their guest. The rest of the guests rose as well, and the band struck up the national anthem. King Edward took King Johan’s hand and turned to retire for the evening; a gesture that would never be seen in public. As the monarchs and the President passed by, the guests bowed their heads or curtsied; when they left the room, the guests sat back down and enjoyed tea and coffee until they began to leave one by one.
Merlin was chatting amiably with Gaius when somebody tapped him on the shoulder; he turned to see Arthur standing with his hands in his pockets; “we’re leaving now, are you coming?”
“Back to Number 10?” Merlin asked, a little confused.
“Well,” Arthur said, shuffling slightly, “I thought you might care for a drink?”
“Oh, of course Arthur,” Merlin smiled and stood up, “excuse me Sir Gaius, I’ll see you tomorrow I’m sure.”
“Good night my boy,” Gaius said, shaking Merlin’s hand, “good evening Prime Minister.”
Arthur nodded in acknowledgement and walked away with Merlin to where Gwen was waiting by the door. Gaius shook his head a bit, and went back to his tea.
....
Chapter Five