[Fic] A Tale Of Two Brothers - for and_i
Title: A Tale Of Two Brothers (But Not Really) And A Once And Future King (In Denial, But Shhh)
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: and_i
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin, Lancelot, Arthur, Will, mentions of others; Lancelot/Arthur, mentioned Merlin/Will
Warnings: Loosely termed crack, a few profanities.
Spoilers: None at all.
Rating: R for a few bad words and some suggestive themes.
Word Count: 6032
Summary: One could take only so much sharing of the bathroom with his brother, after all. Modern day reincarnation fic.
Author's Note: I’m… sorry? I kind of don’t know how it came about. Only I do. But no matter. Thank you to N for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine. Hope you’ll enjoy it, and_i!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work. / The spell was borrowed from Andrzej Sapkowski’s Narrenturm. No copyright infringement intended.
Merle and Lance Evans were two very special young men. Very, very special indeed. They were brothers who spent a lot of time together. They sat at one table in class as kids; they always ate lunch together, went to cinema, met their friends, and did their shopping together. Even though they were totally different when it came to personalities - Lance was a born athlete, a jock if you will, while Merlin was the brains of the family, or known more widely as the nerd - they were inseparable and people always talked about the two of them, the sweet Siamese twin brothers who always had each other’s back. Or rather, side, as they were connected by head. Just few inches of hair, really, Lance used to argue with his mother, the ever dotting Hula. Merle once asked her why she didn’t agree to the separation surgery. She answered with tears in her eyes that it was apparently God’s will for the boys to be born that way; to stay connected for the rest of their lives. She couldn’t argue with God’s will, could she? Besides, it made the two of them special, her little angels.
So Merle and Lance resigned themselves to living together for the rest of their lives - or rather until they turned twenty-one years old and accumulated the amount required for the separation surgery. One could take only so much sharing of the bathroom with his brother, after all.
Finally the day of which they both dreamed (but separately, mind you) came. They woke up, got up from their king size bed and went into the bathroom. Lance was the early bird, Merle the night owl, so it holds no surprise to say that it was Lance who first remembered what day it was. He was washing his teeth when it dawned on him. The hand holding his toothbrush fell limply along his right side as he looked into the mirror. He didn’t look any different - neither did Merle, who was brushing his teeth as if he was in a competition with a snail, the foam dribbling down his chin.
“Merle!”
His twin brother - who looked totally different, with his black hair sticking all over and his blue eyes sometimes freakishly turning gold and his high cheekbones protruding from the skin as if he was a survivor of a gulag - looked at him with a dull look in his eyes.
“It’s our twenty-first birthday today! It means we can separate!”
Merle rolled his eyes and bent over the sink, taking his brother with him, to spit the foam out. He took a sip of mouthwash - minty fresh - and rinsed his mouth. He straightened, again taking his brother with him, and looked Lance in the eye. Through the mirror, that is.
“So we are. But we don’t have the money, Lance. Remember, I told you - money first, doesn’t matter how old we are. Okay? Now, finish brushing your teeth. I think you have some spinach stuck on your canine.”
It was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes but he did as told. He learned a long time ago that it was better to listen to Merle. If he didn’t, it had bad results. Like that one time he tried to throw away Merle’s favourite hoodie. He really didn’t want to recall the feeling of the rash he had on his private area afterwards, for three weeks straight. Merle usually laughed his arse off whenever that particular memory was brought up. Lance really didn’t get what was so funny.
They went back to their bedroom, dressed and went down to the kitchen. Merle halted before the door, stopping Lance mid stride.
“Now, remember that mum is very emotional and it’s a big day for her. No separation talk. Actually, don’t talk at all. Shut up, nod and look pretty.”
Lance obediently nodded along Merle’s words. They both took deep breaths and entered the kitchen where their mother threw her arms around them, sobbing and muttering about her little darlings being all grown up. Merle couldn’t wait to get out of the house.
*
Since it was their birthday, Merle agreed to skip his astrophysics lecture to humour Lance. They went to meet Lance’s friends from the team - no, don’t ask how Lance managed to be on the football team, with Merle always tagging along, he didn’t know how to explain it, either. But maybe it was the adrenaline that made Merle seem to weigh less. Or maybe the adrenaline gave even the nerdy one a kick to get a few scores for the team, without tripping over his laces as he normally did. Lance didn’t pursue the topic, as Merle knew he wouldn’t.
They met the guys in the shopping centre. Or rather, the guys met Lance and promptly ignored Merle. It was fine with him. He had his Irish Gaelic word book with him anyway. It was so much more fun than sport talk. They sat on a bench in front of a fountain and one of the guys was retelling a story, his hands gesticulating wildly.
“That’s what she said,” quipped Lance, sending the group into a fit of giggles befitting a twelve years old girl at a boy-band concert.
Apparently, the story teller didn’t like Lance’s smart retort, his right fist contacting with Lance’s head. Only it wasn’t Lance’s head, but Merle’s. The strength of the blow sent them toppling over the bench and straight into the fountain, their heads colliding painfully with the marble. And then there was darkness.
*
Merlin opened his eyes groggily. Huh, so he wasn’t dead after all. And here he thought that he wouldn’t survive the famous Siberian cold. But ha, he was the greatest warlock of all time, of course he survived. He never doubted it. He stretched and tried to turn his head but something heavy was stuck to it. And he slept on his back. Weird, he never did that. He heard a husky groan being emitted close to him.
Oooh, so he got lucky last night! Even though he didn’t really remember it. Must have been some night.
He tried to sit up when it all came back to him. His birth, his childhood, adolescence, sharing every experience with his Siamese twin brother… Merlin groaned, his palm flying to cover his face. So he did die at the Siberian steppes, he was reincarnated, obviously stuck with some idiot who didn’t know what an honour it was to share his body with Merlin Emrys, the greatest Warlock of all times, the advisor to King Arthur himself!
*
Lancelot opened his eyes to bright, bright light. Where was he? Camelot never had such startling lights. Heck, they never had electricity. He stiffened as he felt another body in bed with him. Was he in Arthur’s bedroom, again? Damn, he promised himself he wouldn’t go back to the bastard, not without a promise ring, anyway. But he loved Arthur, that he did. It was pure love, pure passionate love that would be written about in sonnets and legends, he was sure of it.
He tried to turn over and maybe stare at Arthur while he slept - no, it wasn’t creepy, no matter what Morgana and Gwen tried to tell him. It was romantic. Weird, he couldn’t turn his head. He muttered a curse under his breath. Lights above, what had Arthur talked him into now?
He brought a hand to his chin and took in a startled breath at the lack of his customary five o-clock shadow of a beard. Something wasn’t right. The lights were hurting his eyes and the place really looked unfamiliar. He had a really bad headache, that he did.
Before Lancelot could wake Arthur up, a woman came into the room. She looked familiar, he thought. Like… Merlin’s mother?! What was Hunith doing in Camelot? What was she doing in Arthur’s chambers, actually?! And why was she dressed so weirdly?
She ran to the bedside, taking Lancelot’s hand into hers and kissing it feverishly.
“Oh boys, my boys, I was so worried! Tell mummy what happened!”
Lancelot opened his mouth to retort that it was none of her business, they were both consenting adults, thank you very much, and she wasn’t their mother, either.
“One of Lance’s friends punched me in the face. We stumbled, fell into the fountain and hit our heads on the marble. At least I hit mine; I assume Lance did as well. Didn’t you?”
Oh fuck. That voice sounded entirely too familiar. In two ways. Now that was confusing. How could it - Lancelot groaned as memories of his new self flooded his mind. Oh marvellous. He was stuck here in this body which he shared with Merlin. Oh bother.
“Uh yeah, that’s what happened.”
He felt Merlin startle. So he was recognized. This was going to be a really long day, he just knew.
*
“So. We’re kind of fucked, aren’t we?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. Lancelot was never the brightest crayon in the box. At least he kept the oh-gosh-I-was-reincarnated freak-out to minimum.
“From what I remember we nearly saved up the whole amount needed for the surgery. As it is a very important thing, I think I could try and magic us some money-“
“NO.”
Merlin was really annoyed. He couldn’t even glare properly at Lancelot. Glaring at his twin through a mirror was really silly.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
Lancelot smirked nastily, showing off a row of sharp teeth - wait, did Merlin see a bit of spinach on his canine?
“Remember the last time you tried to help Arthur with the starvation problem and you summoned a hurricane that lasted for six weeks?”
Merlin scowled and folded his arms across his chest. It was so not his fault. Stupid Arthur came in and dazzled him with his golden skin while Merlin was reciting the spell. How the hell was Merlin supposed to know that a longer ‘o’ in one syllable of the spell would change its usage from a growing spell to hurricane summon?
“Well. Okay. Then maybe we could sell the twins’ story to the Sun?”
He was met with a blank stare. The idiots he had to work with.
*
Lance - he really hated that nickname, but he couldn’t tell the woman who raised him for the past twenty one years to call him Lancelot, because that’s his real name, could he? - was in a lovelorn mood again. He remembered the last night he spent in Arthur’s arms - over a millennium ago. Now that was creepy. He wondered if he’d ever find another lover who was like Arthur. But there was no one who could replace him. Unless…
“Say, Merlin…”
“Merle,” came the cutting response.
“Merle, d’you think Arthur reincarnated? I mean, I am here and you obviously were reincarnated a few times… You met Morgana and Gwen in the twenties in a burlesque club, right?”
“That is so not a memory I want to remember, ever, Lance. But yes, I met them. I never met Arthur, I simply assumed he never reincarnated. But now that you suggested it…”
“Great! You’ll help me find Arthur so I can reunite with the love of my lives. Lives, haha, get it?”
Lance poked Merlin in the ribs as he laughed. Merlin really wanted to hurt him. But karma was a bitch. Really.
*
“Say, Merli- Merle , maybe you could use magic to separate us? Huh? We wouldn’t have to wait until next year for that surgery then.”
Merlin sighed and put down his knitting needles. At least he was doing something productive, not like Lance who was packing away with his dumb bells, building up his body.
“Remember that time when Morgana wanted to castrate me?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“Yeah. That was after I tried to help Gwen with her idea for Morgana’s gift. Gwen wanted to have a tattoo with Morgana’s name on her back and I kind of mixed up the spells and instead of ‘property of Morgana’ it said ‘Uther is my sugar daddy’. How was I supposed to know that the spell would translate into the tattoo what I was thinking and not what Gwen was thinking?”
Lance winced.
“Oh fuck. I should have let her catch you then.”
“Good thing you didn’t. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“No problem. Say, how did you get the money for the surgery?”
“I set up a website with our naked pics. I used aliases, of course. The users have to pay to see ‘em, so we got quite a few bob. We even have a fanbase now!”
The dumb bells in Lancelot’s hands landed on the floor with a resounding thud. Another bad thing about being Siamese twins? Merlin couldn’t run away when Lance decided it was pummelling time.
*
It was Will’s twenty first birthday and both Merlin and Lancelot were invited. Will’s parents were really laid back so they agreed to host the party at a strip club. The guest list included Will’s friends from Oxford - yeah, the snob did go there. At least he still kept in touch with them, lowly students of their hometown’s IT in the west of Ireland.
They sat at a booth with Will, waiting for his friends to arrive.
“So, you guys, how’s it hanging? Heard you’re getting separated next year?”
“Yeah, thank God. I can’t take being stuck with him anymore,” Lance pointed his thumb at the left side of his body where Merlin was stuck.
Merle promptly rolled his eyes and took a sip of the drink Will bought him. Oooh, it was minty. Nice. He wanted to tell Lancelot that there are, indeed, drinks that taste nice without alcohol in them and he even started to open his mouth to do so when he heard Lancelot take in a startled gasp. He looked where his twin was looking and had to squint to really see it.
There, on the platform, was a gorgeous blonde girl, really well endowed, with big eyes and… big everything else. Besides the clothes - those were really the size of a band aid.
“Don’t you even think of it, Lance. You’re still not over your latest crush,” Merlin tried for a threatening tone but instead it sounded giggly and breathless.
Will looked at Merlin and raised an eyebrow.
“Oooh, you got a crush, Lance? Do tell.”
Merlin felt Lancelot elbow him in his ribs and giggled some more. It was going to be a great night, he knew!
“Merle is trying to be funny. Don’t have no crush. Now, be a good birthday boy and get me some more beer. And no mojitos for Merle, he’s got a weak head. Don’t think I don’t see you’re trying to get my baby brother drunk,” Lance raised a finger at Will, trying to threaten him.
Will smiled an innocent smile and called over one of the waitresses. He ordered as Lance asked him and looked around for his friends.
“Look, there’s Tom and Ben. Going to say hi.”
Merlin took another sip of the drink Will bought him. Will was his best friend. Will always knew what Merlin needed. He motioned towards the waitress to give him a refill and ignored Lance. It was going to be a great night!
*
Merlin awoke in a cold, dark place, stinking of dampness and unwashed bodies. He raised his head to look around and nearly vomited as the nausea took hold of his body. What the hell happened?
“I take it you’re awake,” he hear Lancelot shout next to him.
“Jesus, Lance, you don’t have to shout. What the hell happened?”
He heard Lance snort and closed his eyes. Ugh.
“You mean you don’t remember getting drunk, trying to pick up one of the strippers by claiming you’re Tom Cruise and getting into a drunken brawl with the security? Not that they hit you, no, they started hitting me.”
Merlin furrowed his brow, trying to remember any of what Lance described.
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Then it means you also don’t remember that you shoved your tongue down Will’s throat, claiming he was your best friend and always knew what you needed and that it was your turn to return the favour.”
Something about that sounded familiar to Merlin.
“I think I remember that…”
“We’re banned from that club, Merle. And mum is going to pick us up in an hour or two.”
Merlin groaned. Oh fuck, he was in deep, deep trouble. He wanted to crawl into a ditch and die.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Lance said in his annoying sing-song voice.
“I never knew you were one for cross dressing, Merlin,” Lance nearly choked from laughter, his hand tugging at the mini skirt Merlin wore.
This was worse than that one time he slept with a newly reincarnated Nimueh. At least no-one knew about that time; he was sure Lance took pictures and sent them to their friends and family.
He wondered if there were any spells for memory wiping.
*
It was the second of February 2011 and Merlin and Lancelot were finally free of each other for the past month. They were sitting in two separate chairs, facing each other.
“Jesus, I never knew you were so ugly, Merle,” Lancelot quipped, his eyebrows rising, his full lips smirking.
“While you might have the pretty of the family, I’ve got the brains. Guess which goes away first,” Merlin rolled his eyes, never taking them away from his Latin phrase book.
Lancelot sighed, knowing he won’t get any attention from his brother. He brushed a hand through his chin long hair and sighed again. He really needed to find Arthur soon.
“So, we’re going to do that talk show next week in London?”
Merlin nodded.
“Good, good.”
Lance got up, still relishing the fact that now he didn’t have to drag Merlin with him, and went to the bathroom. He needed to throw away his razor and shaving cream. He wanted to have a nice five o’clock shadow of a beard for the talk show. Maybe then Arthur would recognize him.
*
They were ushered into studio’s make up department. The head of make-up shook her head at Merlin.
“Get this one on the chair, some rosy foundation, and mascara on the eyes. Get those glasses off of him and put some contacts. And a red handkerchief around his throat. That should make him look human, not like a survivor of a gulag.”
Lance snickered as he saw Merlin’s expression. The head of the department turned around to survey him. Her eyes took him in and she smiled a smile that scared the living days out of him.
“Get him some leather.”
Oh, he was so screwed.
*
They were sitting in chairs, waiting for their turn. Merlin was playing with the ‘chief around his throat while Lancelot was fidgeting in his new leather trousers.
“Stop that or they’ll split at the seams when you’ll be walking to greet Alice.”
Lancelot turned his head to glare at Merlin.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Of course not. But it’s leather, Lance. You were used to it back in Camelot.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t so… tight fitting. I’m going to look like a ponce.”
Merlin sighed. Really, he should get some good karma for that.
“Not like a ponce. You’re going to look better than Adam Lambert in this outfit. So now find some attitude to go with those clothes and remember that Arthur might be watching you.”
Lancelot nodded and looked in the direction of the entrance of the stage. He suddenly stopped breathing. He heard an angelic choir sing, rays of heavenly light shining upon that one special someone standing in front of the entrance. He was tall, his body muscular. His blond hair was brushed back casually from his blue eyes and he was dressed in a black suit with a crispy white shirt. His posture screamed confidence and authority.
Lancelot gulped and reached to tug at Merlin’s sleeve.
“What now, Lance?”
“I think I found him,” he said without tearing his eyes from the man.
Merlin looked in the direction into which Lancelot was staring and sucked a shocked breath. There, in all his glory stood Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king.
*
“Oh shit.”
Lancelot turned to Merlin once Arthur was gone on the stage.
“What?”
“Don’t you what me! Do you know who that is?! Do you?!”
Lancelot looked at Merlin as if he was an idiot. He got that look a lot.
“Arthur.”
Merlin hid his head in his hands.
“Yes, Arthur. Arthur Prendergast, the youngest politician of Britain. The guy that will be the next Prime Minister in ten years or even less, he’s that good. Intelligent, sly, not afraid to make controversial decisions. He’s leading his party at the age of twenty four. Oh Morgana’s tits, we’re so screwed.”
Lancelot furrowed his brow. What did Morgana’s tits have to do with anything? He looked at his twin who clearly thought it was the end of the world.
“What’s the problem?”
“C’mon, guys, it’s your turn!”
Merlin looked up at the crew member who was gesticulating towards the entrance to the stage.
“C’mon, Lance. No funny business. You sit, nod, and look pretty. As usual, got it?”
Lance nodded, his lips automatically stretching in a dazzling smile and followed Merlin.
*
As Lady Luck had it, Lancelot was seated right next to Arthur on the long couch. He could feel the heat radiating off Arthur and it reminded him of the lazy afternoons they sometimes managed to sneak into Arthur’s busy schedule. His hand was still tingling from where Arthur shook it mechanically and he could barely hold himself back from putting his hand on Arthur’s thigh. Merlin was babbling away at that hostess who nodded her head as if she was on speed. Hula was right, drugs always followed fame. He was glad he promised her never to eat anything offered by strangers.
“So, Lance, how does it feel to be separated from your brother after being with him constantly for the past twenty one years?”
Lancelot looked to the show hostess who was looking at him hungrily. Uh-oh.
“It’s very… liberating at one hand, but at the same time it’s kind of sad. I mean I don’t miss the fact that I couldn’t get laid because of Merle,” he heard Merlin groan quietly, “but I do miss the fact that we’re no longer spending so much time together. Do you know what was the first thing he did after we were released from the hospital?”
The hostess shook her head and leaned forward. Lance really wanted to hide behind Arthur who stiffened after Lance started talking.
“He went to the library, muttering that he was free to spend as much time there as he wanted. He’s asocial, that brother of mine. I just really hope he won’t die a virgin.”
He felt a slap on the back of his head and reached to massage it, throwing a dirty glance at scowling Merlin. He could feel Arthur shift away from him and his body unconsciously followed him.
“Aww, isn’t that cute? You worry so much about your brother.”
Lancelot shot her a blinding grin, still massaging the back of the head. Merlin had to use some spell with that hand of his, he felt like he was hit by an armoured glove. That bitch.
“But of course. He’s my baby brother.”
“Jerk,” he heard Merlin mutter as the show hostess melted into a pile of goo.
“And that’s all we had for today. Please say goodbye to our guests, Coco Coconut, the ex-stripper who became the President of France, Arthur Prendergast, the youngest party leader in Britain and Merle and Lance Evans, the no longer Siamese twins from Ireland! And don’t forget about Abby the Ape who set the newest Guinness record in eating cherry pie!”
The crowd went wild.
*
They were backstage after the show, Lance glued to Merlin for protection. That show hostess accosted him just after the cameras went out and propositioned him with a lewd smile. The Lancelot of an hour ago would accept her invitation, but he was a changed man now. His eyes searched for Arthur and found him standing near the Swedish buffet. He pushed Merlin in that direction, throwing an apologetic smile at the sound girl Merlin was flirting with. Average flirting could wait, Lancelot’s and Arthur’s happiness could not!
“What are you doing, you jerk? I was trying to get laid, dammit.”
“That’s not important, Merlin. We have to talk to Arthur, we have to wake him!”
Merlin looked at Lancelot and paused. He put his hand on Lance’s chest to stop him.
“Whoa there, cowboy. First, swipe that crazy look off of your face. Two, we don’t have a plan. We know who he is, so we retreat, re-group, plan and then we wake him up somehow. How’s that, hm?”
“I have a plan,” Lance stated confidently and decided to overlook that groan that came from Merlin’s direction. “We ambush him, you make him sleep with your mojo, we take him to our hotel and then think what would wake him up. Personally, I think that few rounds of sex with me would do it.”
Merlin wondered what he did during those past lives to deserve being stuck with Lancelot. Because, really…
He didn’t have the time to finish that thought as Lance was already talking to Arthur, trying to dazzle him with his smile. Really, Merlin should have never allowed Lance to read Twilight. Nothing but troubles came from that, he remembered as he moved towards his brother and Arthur, just like that time when Lance decided to stalk Becky O’Connor, deciding she was his Bella. It was only thanks to Merlin offering to do her homework for her until graduation that she never pressed charges.
“We were wondering if you wanted to join us for a few drinks,” he heard Lance say as he approached them. “It doesn’t look like the party here will be too much fun.”
Merlin wondered is he should tell Lance that Arthur Prendergast was one of the biggest homophobes in the world. He decided against it, this was his payback for Becky O’Connor.
“Sure,” Arthur said as he reached to put his plate on the table.
Merlin had a really bad feeling about this.
*
“C’mon, Merlin, help me carry him.”
Merlin rolled his eyes and took one of Arthur’s arms and threw it around his shoulders. How he got talked into Lancelot’s stupid plan, he’d never know.
They were standing at the entrance to the elevator in their hotel when an older couple came to stand beside them. The lady threw a sharp glance at them, clearly disapproving.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Lance started, trying to salvage unconscious Arthur’s honour, “he just found out his dog is going to have puppies. He always thought it was a male dog. It was a shock, you understand.”
If Merlin could, he would facepalm at that exact moment. The older couple shifted away from them just as the elevator door opened.
“You go first. We have lots of time,” said the man, shielding the woman with his body.
They elevator ride passed uneventfully, if you don’t count Arthur vomiting at his own shoes. They got out, Merlin fished they key card from his bag and pushed Lance and Arthur into the room. Lancelot stumbled under Arthur’s weight and staggered towards his bed where he dumped Arthur. He took off Arthur’s shoes and suit jacket.
Lancelot turned around to Merlin, his smile eager.
“So, now you work your magic and I get my Arthur back and all is right in the world!”
Merlin put his bag on the floor and crossed the room to Lancelot’s bed. He looked around the room, looking for something he could use for the ritual.
“Go to the florist and get me some tulips. And while you’re out go and get me milk, butter and salt. At least three packs of salt.”
Lancelot nodded frantically, took his wallet out of Merlin’s bag and ran as if he was chased by hell hounds. Merlin cracked his bones and stood over Arthur. He extended his hands so they hoovered above Arthur’s hands and started muttering.
“Melach, Berot, Not, Berib et vos omnes! Hemen etan! Hemen etan!” He furrowed his brows, his lips stretching around the words to pronounce them clearly. He remembered that even the slightest change of pronunciation could cost him his life. Or Arthur’s family jewels. Lance would kill him for that. “Zaklinam cię na Acharona, Eheya, Homusa, Athanatosa, Ischirosa, Aecodesa i Almanacha! Zaklinam cię na Aratona, Bethora, Phalega i Oga, na Pophiela i na Phula! Abeor super aberer! Aie Saraye! Aie Saraye! Albedo, rubedo, nigredo!”
He started to wave his hands wildly above Arthur’s body. Sweat gathered on his brow. What he wouldn’t give for Will to be here, in his naughty nurse outfit, wiping Merlin’s brow with caressing touches…
“Tumor, rubor, calor, dolor! Per ipsum, et cum ipso, et in ipso! Jobsa, hopsa, et vos omnes! Et cum spiritu tuo! Melach, Malach, Molach! Fa-ana-sahum Tarisz! Qasura al-Zoba! Al-Ahmar, Baraqan al-Abayad! Al-szaitan! Khar-al-Sus! Al ouar! Mochefi al relil! El feurdż! El feurdż!”
“What are you doing?”
Arthur’s drunken voice shook him out from his trance. Merlin looked down at him only to find Arthur shield his face with his arm.
“Um, nothing. How are you feeling?”
“Geez, Merlin, guess how I feel. I was bloody trumped by my horse, of course I feel like I’m dying!”
Merlin took a deep breath. Oh, so it worked. Wow. He truly was the greatest Warlock of all times. He felt like he should strike a pose or something.
“What are you grinning about, you idiot? Go find Gaius, I need something for the pain.”
Merlin snickered and threw himself on his own bed.
“What you need, sire is to realise that it’s not Camelot.”
Arthur raised his head to glare at Merlin but gave up and let it fall on the bed with a thud. Merlin winced, that wasn’t the smartest idea. Arthur was always a grumpy drunk.
“My head…”
“You’re drunk. I’ll get you some aspirin.”
Merlin looked into his bag and, ha, there it was. Hula was a caring mother; she always gave him a first aid kit, whenever he and Lance were leaving the house for more than one night. He fished the aspirin pack and popped two tablets on his hand. He got up and came closer to Arthur who was weirdly still, his arm shielding his eyes yet again.
“Merlin…”
“Yes?”
“I really reincarnated, right?”
Merlin nodded and remembered Arthur wouldn’t see him.
“Yep.”
“Oh fuck…”
*
Lance stood in the elevator, all the items Merlin asked him to buy resting in his arms. Only few more minutes and he would have him Arthur back! Lancelot couldn’t hold in a girlish giggle and twirled around in the elevator, his satisfied grin shining back at him from the elevator’s walls. He exited the elevator with an extra spring in his step and nearly floated to their room. He stopped before the door, checked his hair and his breath. Everything was okay. He opened the door only to find Arthur pacing the floor. He looked at Merlin questioningly and closed the door.
Arthur looked at him for a few seconds and burst out in a hysteric giggle. Merlin shrugged his shoulders and reached for the milk, opening the bottle and taking a long sip.
“I thought that was for uh, you know what…”
“Nah, I was simply thirsty. And mum asked us to buy salt and bread as we came back.”
Lace looked at the tulips in his hands and back to Arthur. He put the bread and salt on Merlin’s bed and got closer to Arthur. He extended the flowers in Arthur’s direction, his eyes suddenly finding his shoes very fascinating, one of his feet trying to drill a hole in the floor. The leather trousers felt a bit more comfortable now.
He heard Arthur stop pacing in front of him.
“And you’re claiming to be Lancelot du Lac, eh?”
Lance looked up into Arthur’s eyes. Surely, he remembered him. He must have. So many passionate nights and days, in Arthur’s bed, the corridor, the stables…
“You two kidnapped me and, shit, hypnotized or something. There is no such thing as reincarnation and you’re not Merlin or Lancelot. I’m not Arthur Pendragon. I’m Arthur Prendergast. Let me go and I won’t press charges.”
The flowers fell from Lance’s hand as he stood, his mouth agape with shock. His Arthur didn’t remember him! It was impossible! He turned in Merlin’s direction. Merlin raised his hands and shook his head.
“He woke up as our Arthur and then he remembered. His current incarnation is overriding his past self. Both of them are stubborn as donkeys.”
Lance did the only thing he knew would help to make Arthur understand.
He lunged and kissed him.
*
Merlin put the ice on Lance’s lip and looked at him with pity. Damn, he should have told him the new Arthur was extremely straight.
Arthur was sitting on the bed, his hands folded on his chest and topped with a glare and a pout. He looked adorable, Lance thought, even if he could land a punch.
“Look, Arthur. You don’t believe us, fine. But think this way - if you started going out with Lance, you would gain more publicity. More good publicity. You wouldn’t have to show up in ridiculous talk shows like today.”
Merlin didn’t believe he said it. Apparently, neither did Lance or Arthur, judging from their expressions.
“I mean, Adam Lambert is taking over the world, musically speaking. Chris Colfer got an Oscar. Ellen DeGenres became the vice-president. Elton bloody John was knighted. You could be the king, dammit. We could trace your roots back to yourse… uh, Arthur and then well, a spell or… good PR and all that and you’d be in power. Whataya think?”
He really should shut up right now. The Dragon was right, his mouth would get him in trouble some day. Only Arthur was looking pensive, like he actually considered the idea. Nah, that couldn’t be, Merlin thought, he’s not that stupid…
“Deal. But no funny business, Lance, and I mean it.”
Lance looked like Christmas, Easter, Hannukah, New Year and Pantless Day came all at the same time. He nodded his head like an eager puppy, dislodging the ice package.
“Whatever you want Arthur. But I’m sure you’ll remember our love. I mean, it’s epic. They even wrote legends about it! Only, by some mistake I ended up with Gwen… I’m sure it’s the homophobia speaking but we know what really happened, right?”
During his monologue Lance moved to sit near Arthur who didn’t look as squicked as before and actually allowed Lance to put a hand on his thigh.
“Merlin, would you give us a minute, please?” Arthur was always so cultured.
Merlin nodded and left the room, taking his phone with him. He was going to call Will and see if he could salvage their relationship. He missed the bugger.
*
After an hour or so, Merlin went back to their room. Lancelot and Arthur were asleep on Lance’s bed, snuggling. Their clothes were strewn all around the room and they looked at peace. As if all was right in the world. Merlin preferred not to tell them he saw a few TV vans just outside of their hotel. It could wait til the morning, besides, Arthur wasn’t as important as that. Merlin nodded, undressed and went to bed.
*
“Meeerlin, oh, Meeerlin.”
Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur standing above his bed with a smile that made the most courageous men run away.
“Did you know there were TV vans stationed just outside our hotel?” Arthur asked in a weirdly calm tone of voice.
Lancelot was nowhere to be seen.
Merlin gulped. Loudly.
Did he mention he had a really, really, really bad feeling about all this?
Author: Anonymous
Recipient: and_i
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Merlin, Lancelot, Arthur, Will, mentions of others; Lancelot/Arthur, mentioned Merlin/Will
Warnings: Loosely termed crack, a few profanities.
Spoilers: None at all.
Rating: R for a few bad words and some suggestive themes.
Word Count: 6032
Summary: One could take only so much sharing of the bathroom with his brother, after all. Modern day reincarnation fic.
Author's Note: I’m… sorry? I kind of don’t know how it came about. Only I do. But no matter. Thank you to N for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine. Hope you’ll enjoy it, and_i!
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction - none of this ever happened. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from this work. Please observe your local laws with regards to the age-limit and content of this work. / The spell was borrowed from Andrzej Sapkowski’s Narrenturm. No copyright infringement intended.
Merle and Lance Evans were two very special young men. Very, very special indeed. They were brothers who spent a lot of time together. They sat at one table in class as kids; they always ate lunch together, went to cinema, met their friends, and did their shopping together. Even though they were totally different when it came to personalities - Lance was a born athlete, a jock if you will, while Merlin was the brains of the family, or known more widely as the nerd - they were inseparable and people always talked about the two of them, the sweet Siamese twin brothers who always had each other’s back. Or rather, side, as they were connected by head. Just few inches of hair, really, Lance used to argue with his mother, the ever dotting Hula. Merle once asked her why she didn’t agree to the separation surgery. She answered with tears in her eyes that it was apparently God’s will for the boys to be born that way; to stay connected for the rest of their lives. She couldn’t argue with God’s will, could she? Besides, it made the two of them special, her little angels.
So Merle and Lance resigned themselves to living together for the rest of their lives - or rather until they turned twenty-one years old and accumulated the amount required for the separation surgery. One could take only so much sharing of the bathroom with his brother, after all.
Finally the day of which they both dreamed (but separately, mind you) came. They woke up, got up from their king size bed and went into the bathroom. Lance was the early bird, Merle the night owl, so it holds no surprise to say that it was Lance who first remembered what day it was. He was washing his teeth when it dawned on him. The hand holding his toothbrush fell limply along his right side as he looked into the mirror. He didn’t look any different - neither did Merle, who was brushing his teeth as if he was in a competition with a snail, the foam dribbling down his chin.
“Merle!”
His twin brother - who looked totally different, with his black hair sticking all over and his blue eyes sometimes freakishly turning gold and his high cheekbones protruding from the skin as if he was a survivor of a gulag - looked at him with a dull look in his eyes.
“It’s our twenty-first birthday today! It means we can separate!”
Merle rolled his eyes and bent over the sink, taking his brother with him, to spit the foam out. He took a sip of mouthwash - minty fresh - and rinsed his mouth. He straightened, again taking his brother with him, and looked Lance in the eye. Through the mirror, that is.
“So we are. But we don’t have the money, Lance. Remember, I told you - money first, doesn’t matter how old we are. Okay? Now, finish brushing your teeth. I think you have some spinach stuck on your canine.”
It was Lance’s turn to roll his eyes but he did as told. He learned a long time ago that it was better to listen to Merle. If he didn’t, it had bad results. Like that one time he tried to throw away Merle’s favourite hoodie. He really didn’t want to recall the feeling of the rash he had on his private area afterwards, for three weeks straight. Merle usually laughed his arse off whenever that particular memory was brought up. Lance really didn’t get what was so funny.
They went back to their bedroom, dressed and went down to the kitchen. Merle halted before the door, stopping Lance mid stride.
“Now, remember that mum is very emotional and it’s a big day for her. No separation talk. Actually, don’t talk at all. Shut up, nod and look pretty.”
Lance obediently nodded along Merle’s words. They both took deep breaths and entered the kitchen where their mother threw her arms around them, sobbing and muttering about her little darlings being all grown up. Merle couldn’t wait to get out of the house.
*
Since it was their birthday, Merle agreed to skip his astrophysics lecture to humour Lance. They went to meet Lance’s friends from the team - no, don’t ask how Lance managed to be on the football team, with Merle always tagging along, he didn’t know how to explain it, either. But maybe it was the adrenaline that made Merle seem to weigh less. Or maybe the adrenaline gave even the nerdy one a kick to get a few scores for the team, without tripping over his laces as he normally did. Lance didn’t pursue the topic, as Merle knew he wouldn’t.
They met the guys in the shopping centre. Or rather, the guys met Lance and promptly ignored Merle. It was fine with him. He had his Irish Gaelic word book with him anyway. It was so much more fun than sport talk. They sat on a bench in front of a fountain and one of the guys was retelling a story, his hands gesticulating wildly.
“That’s what she said,” quipped Lance, sending the group into a fit of giggles befitting a twelve years old girl at a boy-band concert.
Apparently, the story teller didn’t like Lance’s smart retort, his right fist contacting with Lance’s head. Only it wasn’t Lance’s head, but Merle’s. The strength of the blow sent them toppling over the bench and straight into the fountain, their heads colliding painfully with the marble. And then there was darkness.
*
Merlin opened his eyes groggily. Huh, so he wasn’t dead after all. And here he thought that he wouldn’t survive the famous Siberian cold. But ha, he was the greatest warlock of all time, of course he survived. He never doubted it. He stretched and tried to turn his head but something heavy was stuck to it. And he slept on his back. Weird, he never did that. He heard a husky groan being emitted close to him.
Oooh, so he got lucky last night! Even though he didn’t really remember it. Must have been some night.
He tried to sit up when it all came back to him. His birth, his childhood, adolescence, sharing every experience with his Siamese twin brother… Merlin groaned, his palm flying to cover his face. So he did die at the Siberian steppes, he was reincarnated, obviously stuck with some idiot who didn’t know what an honour it was to share his body with Merlin Emrys, the greatest Warlock of all times, the advisor to King Arthur himself!
*
Lancelot opened his eyes to bright, bright light. Where was he? Camelot never had such startling lights. Heck, they never had electricity. He stiffened as he felt another body in bed with him. Was he in Arthur’s bedroom, again? Damn, he promised himself he wouldn’t go back to the bastard, not without a promise ring, anyway. But he loved Arthur, that he did. It was pure love, pure passionate love that would be written about in sonnets and legends, he was sure of it.
He tried to turn over and maybe stare at Arthur while he slept - no, it wasn’t creepy, no matter what Morgana and Gwen tried to tell him. It was romantic. Weird, he couldn’t turn his head. He muttered a curse under his breath. Lights above, what had Arthur talked him into now?
He brought a hand to his chin and took in a startled breath at the lack of his customary five o-clock shadow of a beard. Something wasn’t right. The lights were hurting his eyes and the place really looked unfamiliar. He had a really bad headache, that he did.
Before Lancelot could wake Arthur up, a woman came into the room. She looked familiar, he thought. Like… Merlin’s mother?! What was Hunith doing in Camelot? What was she doing in Arthur’s chambers, actually?! And why was she dressed so weirdly?
She ran to the bedside, taking Lancelot’s hand into hers and kissing it feverishly.
“Oh boys, my boys, I was so worried! Tell mummy what happened!”
Lancelot opened his mouth to retort that it was none of her business, they were both consenting adults, thank you very much, and she wasn’t their mother, either.
“One of Lance’s friends punched me in the face. We stumbled, fell into the fountain and hit our heads on the marble. At least I hit mine; I assume Lance did as well. Didn’t you?”
Oh fuck. That voice sounded entirely too familiar. In two ways. Now that was confusing. How could it - Lancelot groaned as memories of his new self flooded his mind. Oh marvellous. He was stuck here in this body which he shared with Merlin. Oh bother.
“Uh yeah, that’s what happened.”
He felt Merlin startle. So he was recognized. This was going to be a really long day, he just knew.
*
“So. We’re kind of fucked, aren’t we?”
Merlin rolled his eyes. Lancelot was never the brightest crayon in the box. At least he kept the oh-gosh-I-was-reincarnated freak-out to minimum.
“From what I remember we nearly saved up the whole amount needed for the surgery. As it is a very important thing, I think I could try and magic us some money-“
“NO.”
Merlin was really annoyed. He couldn’t even glare properly at Lancelot. Glaring at his twin through a mirror was really silly.
“Oh? And why’s that?”
Lancelot smirked nastily, showing off a row of sharp teeth - wait, did Merlin see a bit of spinach on his canine?
“Remember the last time you tried to help Arthur with the starvation problem and you summoned a hurricane that lasted for six weeks?”
Merlin scowled and folded his arms across his chest. It was so not his fault. Stupid Arthur came in and dazzled him with his golden skin while Merlin was reciting the spell. How the hell was Merlin supposed to know that a longer ‘o’ in one syllable of the spell would change its usage from a growing spell to hurricane summon?
“Well. Okay. Then maybe we could sell the twins’ story to the Sun?”
He was met with a blank stare. The idiots he had to work with.
*
Lance - he really hated that nickname, but he couldn’t tell the woman who raised him for the past twenty one years to call him Lancelot, because that’s his real name, could he? - was in a lovelorn mood again. He remembered the last night he spent in Arthur’s arms - over a millennium ago. Now that was creepy. He wondered if he’d ever find another lover who was like Arthur. But there was no one who could replace him. Unless…
“Say, Merlin…”
“Merle,” came the cutting response.
“Merle, d’you think Arthur reincarnated? I mean, I am here and you obviously were reincarnated a few times… You met Morgana and Gwen in the twenties in a burlesque club, right?”
“That is so not a memory I want to remember, ever, Lance. But yes, I met them. I never met Arthur, I simply assumed he never reincarnated. But now that you suggested it…”
“Great! You’ll help me find Arthur so I can reunite with the love of my lives. Lives, haha, get it?”
Lance poked Merlin in the ribs as he laughed. Merlin really wanted to hurt him. But karma was a bitch. Really.
*
“Say, Merli- Merle , maybe you could use magic to separate us? Huh? We wouldn’t have to wait until next year for that surgery then.”
Merlin sighed and put down his knitting needles. At least he was doing something productive, not like Lance who was packing away with his dumb bells, building up his body.
“Remember that time when Morgana wanted to castrate me?”
“Uh, yeah…”
“Yeah. That was after I tried to help Gwen with her idea for Morgana’s gift. Gwen wanted to have a tattoo with Morgana’s name on her back and I kind of mixed up the spells and instead of ‘property of Morgana’ it said ‘Uther is my sugar daddy’. How was I supposed to know that the spell would translate into the tattoo what I was thinking and not what Gwen was thinking?”
Lance winced.
“Oh fuck. I should have let her catch you then.”
“Good thing you didn’t. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“No problem. Say, how did you get the money for the surgery?”
“I set up a website with our naked pics. I used aliases, of course. The users have to pay to see ‘em, so we got quite a few bob. We even have a fanbase now!”
The dumb bells in Lancelot’s hands landed on the floor with a resounding thud. Another bad thing about being Siamese twins? Merlin couldn’t run away when Lance decided it was pummelling time.
*
It was Will’s twenty first birthday and both Merlin and Lancelot were invited. Will’s parents were really laid back so they agreed to host the party at a strip club. The guest list included Will’s friends from Oxford - yeah, the snob did go there. At least he still kept in touch with them, lowly students of their hometown’s IT in the west of Ireland.
They sat at a booth with Will, waiting for his friends to arrive.
“So, you guys, how’s it hanging? Heard you’re getting separated next year?”
“Yeah, thank God. I can’t take being stuck with him anymore,” Lance pointed his thumb at the left side of his body where Merlin was stuck.
Merle promptly rolled his eyes and took a sip of the drink Will bought him. Oooh, it was minty. Nice. He wanted to tell Lancelot that there are, indeed, drinks that taste nice without alcohol in them and he even started to open his mouth to do so when he heard Lancelot take in a startled gasp. He looked where his twin was looking and had to squint to really see it.
There, on the platform, was a gorgeous blonde girl, really well endowed, with big eyes and… big everything else. Besides the clothes - those were really the size of a band aid.
“Don’t you even think of it, Lance. You’re still not over your latest crush,” Merlin tried for a threatening tone but instead it sounded giggly and breathless.
Will looked at Merlin and raised an eyebrow.
“Oooh, you got a crush, Lance? Do tell.”
Merlin felt Lancelot elbow him in his ribs and giggled some more. It was going to be a great night, he knew!
“Merle is trying to be funny. Don’t have no crush. Now, be a good birthday boy and get me some more beer. And no mojitos for Merle, he’s got a weak head. Don’t think I don’t see you’re trying to get my baby brother drunk,” Lance raised a finger at Will, trying to threaten him.
Will smiled an innocent smile and called over one of the waitresses. He ordered as Lance asked him and looked around for his friends.
“Look, there’s Tom and Ben. Going to say hi.”
Merlin took another sip of the drink Will bought him. Will was his best friend. Will always knew what Merlin needed. He motioned towards the waitress to give him a refill and ignored Lance. It was going to be a great night!
*
Merlin awoke in a cold, dark place, stinking of dampness and unwashed bodies. He raised his head to look around and nearly vomited as the nausea took hold of his body. What the hell happened?
“I take it you’re awake,” he hear Lancelot shout next to him.
“Jesus, Lance, you don’t have to shout. What the hell happened?”
He heard Lance snort and closed his eyes. Ugh.
“You mean you don’t remember getting drunk, trying to pick up one of the strippers by claiming you’re Tom Cruise and getting into a drunken brawl with the security? Not that they hit you, no, they started hitting me.”
Merlin furrowed his brow, trying to remember any of what Lance described.
“Uh, no.”
“Good. Then it means you also don’t remember that you shoved your tongue down Will’s throat, claiming he was your best friend and always knew what you needed and that it was your turn to return the favour.”
Something about that sounded familiar to Merlin.
“I think I remember that…”
“We’re banned from that club, Merle. And mum is going to pick us up in an hour or two.”
Merlin groaned. Oh fuck, he was in deep, deep trouble. He wanted to crawl into a ditch and die.
“Oh, and one more thing,” Lance said in his annoying sing-song voice.
“I never knew you were one for cross dressing, Merlin,” Lance nearly choked from laughter, his hand tugging at the mini skirt Merlin wore.
This was worse than that one time he slept with a newly reincarnated Nimueh. At least no-one knew about that time; he was sure Lance took pictures and sent them to their friends and family.
He wondered if there were any spells for memory wiping.
*
It was the second of February 2011 and Merlin and Lancelot were finally free of each other for the past month. They were sitting in two separate chairs, facing each other.
“Jesus, I never knew you were so ugly, Merle,” Lancelot quipped, his eyebrows rising, his full lips smirking.
“While you might have the pretty of the family, I’ve got the brains. Guess which goes away first,” Merlin rolled his eyes, never taking them away from his Latin phrase book.
Lancelot sighed, knowing he won’t get any attention from his brother. He brushed a hand through his chin long hair and sighed again. He really needed to find Arthur soon.
“So, we’re going to do that talk show next week in London?”
Merlin nodded.
“Good, good.”
Lance got up, still relishing the fact that now he didn’t have to drag Merlin with him, and went to the bathroom. He needed to throw away his razor and shaving cream. He wanted to have a nice five o’clock shadow of a beard for the talk show. Maybe then Arthur would recognize him.
*
They were ushered into studio’s make up department. The head of make-up shook her head at Merlin.
“Get this one on the chair, some rosy foundation, and mascara on the eyes. Get those glasses off of him and put some contacts. And a red handkerchief around his throat. That should make him look human, not like a survivor of a gulag.”
Lance snickered as he saw Merlin’s expression. The head of the department turned around to survey him. Her eyes took him in and she smiled a smile that scared the living days out of him.
“Get him some leather.”
Oh, he was so screwed.
*
They were sitting in chairs, waiting for their turn. Merlin was playing with the ‘chief around his throat while Lancelot was fidgeting in his new leather trousers.
“Stop that or they’ll split at the seams when you’ll be walking to greet Alice.”
Lancelot turned his head to glare at Merlin.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Of course not. But it’s leather, Lance. You were used to it back in Camelot.”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t so… tight fitting. I’m going to look like a ponce.”
Merlin sighed. Really, he should get some good karma for that.
“Not like a ponce. You’re going to look better than Adam Lambert in this outfit. So now find some attitude to go with those clothes and remember that Arthur might be watching you.”
Lancelot nodded and looked in the direction of the entrance of the stage. He suddenly stopped breathing. He heard an angelic choir sing, rays of heavenly light shining upon that one special someone standing in front of the entrance. He was tall, his body muscular. His blond hair was brushed back casually from his blue eyes and he was dressed in a black suit with a crispy white shirt. His posture screamed confidence and authority.
Lancelot gulped and reached to tug at Merlin’s sleeve.
“What now, Lance?”
“I think I found him,” he said without tearing his eyes from the man.
Merlin looked in the direction into which Lancelot was staring and sucked a shocked breath. There, in all his glory stood Arthur Pendragon, the once and future king.
*
“Oh shit.”
Lancelot turned to Merlin once Arthur was gone on the stage.
“What?”
“Don’t you what me! Do you know who that is?! Do you?!”
Lancelot looked at Merlin as if he was an idiot. He got that look a lot.
“Arthur.”
Merlin hid his head in his hands.
“Yes, Arthur. Arthur Prendergast, the youngest politician of Britain. The guy that will be the next Prime Minister in ten years or even less, he’s that good. Intelligent, sly, not afraid to make controversial decisions. He’s leading his party at the age of twenty four. Oh Morgana’s tits, we’re so screwed.”
Lancelot furrowed his brow. What did Morgana’s tits have to do with anything? He looked at his twin who clearly thought it was the end of the world.
“What’s the problem?”
“C’mon, guys, it’s your turn!”
Merlin looked up at the crew member who was gesticulating towards the entrance to the stage.
“C’mon, Lance. No funny business. You sit, nod, and look pretty. As usual, got it?”
Lance nodded, his lips automatically stretching in a dazzling smile and followed Merlin.
*
As Lady Luck had it, Lancelot was seated right next to Arthur on the long couch. He could feel the heat radiating off Arthur and it reminded him of the lazy afternoons they sometimes managed to sneak into Arthur’s busy schedule. His hand was still tingling from where Arthur shook it mechanically and he could barely hold himself back from putting his hand on Arthur’s thigh. Merlin was babbling away at that hostess who nodded her head as if she was on speed. Hula was right, drugs always followed fame. He was glad he promised her never to eat anything offered by strangers.
“So, Lance, how does it feel to be separated from your brother after being with him constantly for the past twenty one years?”
Lancelot looked to the show hostess who was looking at him hungrily. Uh-oh.
“It’s very… liberating at one hand, but at the same time it’s kind of sad. I mean I don’t miss the fact that I couldn’t get laid because of Merle,” he heard Merlin groan quietly, “but I do miss the fact that we’re no longer spending so much time together. Do you know what was the first thing he did after we were released from the hospital?”
The hostess shook her head and leaned forward. Lance really wanted to hide behind Arthur who stiffened after Lance started talking.
“He went to the library, muttering that he was free to spend as much time there as he wanted. He’s asocial, that brother of mine. I just really hope he won’t die a virgin.”
He felt a slap on the back of his head and reached to massage it, throwing a dirty glance at scowling Merlin. He could feel Arthur shift away from him and his body unconsciously followed him.
“Aww, isn’t that cute? You worry so much about your brother.”
Lancelot shot her a blinding grin, still massaging the back of the head. Merlin had to use some spell with that hand of his, he felt like he was hit by an armoured glove. That bitch.
“But of course. He’s my baby brother.”
“Jerk,” he heard Merlin mutter as the show hostess melted into a pile of goo.
“And that’s all we had for today. Please say goodbye to our guests, Coco Coconut, the ex-stripper who became the President of France, Arthur Prendergast, the youngest party leader in Britain and Merle and Lance Evans, the no longer Siamese twins from Ireland! And don’t forget about Abby the Ape who set the newest Guinness record in eating cherry pie!”
The crowd went wild.
*
They were backstage after the show, Lance glued to Merlin for protection. That show hostess accosted him just after the cameras went out and propositioned him with a lewd smile. The Lancelot of an hour ago would accept her invitation, but he was a changed man now. His eyes searched for Arthur and found him standing near the Swedish buffet. He pushed Merlin in that direction, throwing an apologetic smile at the sound girl Merlin was flirting with. Average flirting could wait, Lancelot’s and Arthur’s happiness could not!
“What are you doing, you jerk? I was trying to get laid, dammit.”
“That’s not important, Merlin. We have to talk to Arthur, we have to wake him!”
Merlin looked at Lancelot and paused. He put his hand on Lance’s chest to stop him.
“Whoa there, cowboy. First, swipe that crazy look off of your face. Two, we don’t have a plan. We know who he is, so we retreat, re-group, plan and then we wake him up somehow. How’s that, hm?”
“I have a plan,” Lance stated confidently and decided to overlook that groan that came from Merlin’s direction. “We ambush him, you make him sleep with your mojo, we take him to our hotel and then think what would wake him up. Personally, I think that few rounds of sex with me would do it.”
Merlin wondered what he did during those past lives to deserve being stuck with Lancelot. Because, really…
He didn’t have the time to finish that thought as Lance was already talking to Arthur, trying to dazzle him with his smile. Really, Merlin should have never allowed Lance to read Twilight. Nothing but troubles came from that, he remembered as he moved towards his brother and Arthur, just like that time when Lance decided to stalk Becky O’Connor, deciding she was his Bella. It was only thanks to Merlin offering to do her homework for her until graduation that she never pressed charges.
“We were wondering if you wanted to join us for a few drinks,” he heard Lance say as he approached them. “It doesn’t look like the party here will be too much fun.”
Merlin wondered is he should tell Lance that Arthur Prendergast was one of the biggest homophobes in the world. He decided against it, this was his payback for Becky O’Connor.
“Sure,” Arthur said as he reached to put his plate on the table.
Merlin had a really bad feeling about this.
*
“C’mon, Merlin, help me carry him.”
Merlin rolled his eyes and took one of Arthur’s arms and threw it around his shoulders. How he got talked into Lancelot’s stupid plan, he’d never know.
They were standing at the entrance to the elevator in their hotel when an older couple came to stand beside them. The lady threw a sharp glance at them, clearly disapproving.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Lance started, trying to salvage unconscious Arthur’s honour, “he just found out his dog is going to have puppies. He always thought it was a male dog. It was a shock, you understand.”
If Merlin could, he would facepalm at that exact moment. The older couple shifted away from them just as the elevator door opened.
“You go first. We have lots of time,” said the man, shielding the woman with his body.
They elevator ride passed uneventfully, if you don’t count Arthur vomiting at his own shoes. They got out, Merlin fished they key card from his bag and pushed Lance and Arthur into the room. Lancelot stumbled under Arthur’s weight and staggered towards his bed where he dumped Arthur. He took off Arthur’s shoes and suit jacket.
Lancelot turned around to Merlin, his smile eager.
“So, now you work your magic and I get my Arthur back and all is right in the world!”
Merlin put his bag on the floor and crossed the room to Lancelot’s bed. He looked around the room, looking for something he could use for the ritual.
“Go to the florist and get me some tulips. And while you’re out go and get me milk, butter and salt. At least three packs of salt.”
Lancelot nodded frantically, took his wallet out of Merlin’s bag and ran as if he was chased by hell hounds. Merlin cracked his bones and stood over Arthur. He extended his hands so they hoovered above Arthur’s hands and started muttering.
“Melach, Berot, Not, Berib et vos omnes! Hemen etan! Hemen etan!” He furrowed his brows, his lips stretching around the words to pronounce them clearly. He remembered that even the slightest change of pronunciation could cost him his life. Or Arthur’s family jewels. Lance would kill him for that. “Zaklinam cię na Acharona, Eheya, Homusa, Athanatosa, Ischirosa, Aecodesa i Almanacha! Zaklinam cię na Aratona, Bethora, Phalega i Oga, na Pophiela i na Phula! Abeor super aberer! Aie Saraye! Aie Saraye! Albedo, rubedo, nigredo!”
He started to wave his hands wildly above Arthur’s body. Sweat gathered on his brow. What he wouldn’t give for Will to be here, in his naughty nurse outfit, wiping Merlin’s brow with caressing touches…
“Tumor, rubor, calor, dolor! Per ipsum, et cum ipso, et in ipso! Jobsa, hopsa, et vos omnes! Et cum spiritu tuo! Melach, Malach, Molach! Fa-ana-sahum Tarisz! Qasura al-Zoba! Al-Ahmar, Baraqan al-Abayad! Al-szaitan! Khar-al-Sus! Al ouar! Mochefi al relil! El feurdż! El feurdż!”
“What are you doing?”
Arthur’s drunken voice shook him out from his trance. Merlin looked down at him only to find Arthur shield his face with his arm.
“Um, nothing. How are you feeling?”
“Geez, Merlin, guess how I feel. I was bloody trumped by my horse, of course I feel like I’m dying!”
Merlin took a deep breath. Oh, so it worked. Wow. He truly was the greatest Warlock of all times. He felt like he should strike a pose or something.
“What are you grinning about, you idiot? Go find Gaius, I need something for the pain.”
Merlin snickered and threw himself on his own bed.
“What you need, sire is to realise that it’s not Camelot.”
Arthur raised his head to glare at Merlin but gave up and let it fall on the bed with a thud. Merlin winced, that wasn’t the smartest idea. Arthur was always a grumpy drunk.
“My head…”
“You’re drunk. I’ll get you some aspirin.”
Merlin looked into his bag and, ha, there it was. Hula was a caring mother; she always gave him a first aid kit, whenever he and Lance were leaving the house for more than one night. He fished the aspirin pack and popped two tablets on his hand. He got up and came closer to Arthur who was weirdly still, his arm shielding his eyes yet again.
“Merlin…”
“Yes?”
“I really reincarnated, right?”
Merlin nodded and remembered Arthur wouldn’t see him.
“Yep.”
“Oh fuck…”
*
Lance stood in the elevator, all the items Merlin asked him to buy resting in his arms. Only few more minutes and he would have him Arthur back! Lancelot couldn’t hold in a girlish giggle and twirled around in the elevator, his satisfied grin shining back at him from the elevator’s walls. He exited the elevator with an extra spring in his step and nearly floated to their room. He stopped before the door, checked his hair and his breath. Everything was okay. He opened the door only to find Arthur pacing the floor. He looked at Merlin questioningly and closed the door.
Arthur looked at him for a few seconds and burst out in a hysteric giggle. Merlin shrugged his shoulders and reached for the milk, opening the bottle and taking a long sip.
“I thought that was for uh, you know what…”
“Nah, I was simply thirsty. And mum asked us to buy salt and bread as we came back.”
Lace looked at the tulips in his hands and back to Arthur. He put the bread and salt on Merlin’s bed and got closer to Arthur. He extended the flowers in Arthur’s direction, his eyes suddenly finding his shoes very fascinating, one of his feet trying to drill a hole in the floor. The leather trousers felt a bit more comfortable now.
He heard Arthur stop pacing in front of him.
“And you’re claiming to be Lancelot du Lac, eh?”
Lance looked up into Arthur’s eyes. Surely, he remembered him. He must have. So many passionate nights and days, in Arthur’s bed, the corridor, the stables…
“You two kidnapped me and, shit, hypnotized or something. There is no such thing as reincarnation and you’re not Merlin or Lancelot. I’m not Arthur Pendragon. I’m Arthur Prendergast. Let me go and I won’t press charges.”
The flowers fell from Lance’s hand as he stood, his mouth agape with shock. His Arthur didn’t remember him! It was impossible! He turned in Merlin’s direction. Merlin raised his hands and shook his head.
“He woke up as our Arthur and then he remembered. His current incarnation is overriding his past self. Both of them are stubborn as donkeys.”
Lance did the only thing he knew would help to make Arthur understand.
He lunged and kissed him.
*
Merlin put the ice on Lance’s lip and looked at him with pity. Damn, he should have told him the new Arthur was extremely straight.
Arthur was sitting on the bed, his hands folded on his chest and topped with a glare and a pout. He looked adorable, Lance thought, even if he could land a punch.
“Look, Arthur. You don’t believe us, fine. But think this way - if you started going out with Lance, you would gain more publicity. More good publicity. You wouldn’t have to show up in ridiculous talk shows like today.”
Merlin didn’t believe he said it. Apparently, neither did Lance or Arthur, judging from their expressions.
“I mean, Adam Lambert is taking over the world, musically speaking. Chris Colfer got an Oscar. Ellen DeGenres became the vice-president. Elton bloody John was knighted. You could be the king, dammit. We could trace your roots back to yourse… uh, Arthur and then well, a spell or… good PR and all that and you’d be in power. Whataya think?”
He really should shut up right now. The Dragon was right, his mouth would get him in trouble some day. Only Arthur was looking pensive, like he actually considered the idea. Nah, that couldn’t be, Merlin thought, he’s not that stupid…
“Deal. But no funny business, Lance, and I mean it.”
Lance looked like Christmas, Easter, Hannukah, New Year and Pantless Day came all at the same time. He nodded his head like an eager puppy, dislodging the ice package.
“Whatever you want Arthur. But I’m sure you’ll remember our love. I mean, it’s epic. They even wrote legends about it! Only, by some mistake I ended up with Gwen… I’m sure it’s the homophobia speaking but we know what really happened, right?”
During his monologue Lance moved to sit near Arthur who didn’t look as squicked as before and actually allowed Lance to put a hand on his thigh.
“Merlin, would you give us a minute, please?” Arthur was always so cultured.
Merlin nodded and left the room, taking his phone with him. He was going to call Will and see if he could salvage their relationship. He missed the bugger.
*
After an hour or so, Merlin went back to their room. Lancelot and Arthur were asleep on Lance’s bed, snuggling. Their clothes were strewn all around the room and they looked at peace. As if all was right in the world. Merlin preferred not to tell them he saw a few TV vans just outside of their hotel. It could wait til the morning, besides, Arthur wasn’t as important as that. Merlin nodded, undressed and went to bed.
*
“Meeerlin, oh, Meeerlin.”
Merlin opened his eyes to see Arthur standing above his bed with a smile that made the most courageous men run away.
“Did you know there were TV vans stationed just outside our hotel?” Arthur asked in a weirdly calm tone of voice.
Lancelot was nowhere to be seen.
Merlin gulped. Loudly.
Did he mention he had a really, really, really bad feeling about all this?