NOTHING LIKE A GOOD GHOST HUNT: Part 3
TITLE: Nothing Like a Good Ghost Hunt
PAIRINGS: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwaine, Lancelot/Gwen, and hinted-at others.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~ 18k
SUMMARY: Merlin and his team are commissioned to investigate the hauntings at the famed Camelot Castle and get more than they bargained for when they find that the paranormal investigation team led by Arthur Pendragon has been commissioned to do the same.
NOTES: Written for Prompt #15 for merlin_horror fest.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
PART 1 | PART 2
Of course, Arthur followed him into the corridor. He caught Merlin by the arm and Merlin huffed out a sigh, reluctantly turning to face him.
“Look, are we going to talk about it or are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?” Arthur threw out. “Because, believe me, I’m all for pretending, if that’s the way you want to go.”
Merlin gave Arthur a puzzled look. “W-What?” Was Arthur calling him out on what had happened in the crypts ? Was he really that arrogant that he couldn’t deal with admitting Merlin had actually saved his arse by casting off those skeleton ghosts?
Arthur rolled his eyes. “The dream, Merlin,” he explained. Merlin tried not to goggle at him but failed epically. “Fuck, it was so real,” he expressed, his eyes getting a faraway look before snapping back to Merlin’s face. “And the way you’ve been acting, I know I can’t be the only one who had it.”
“The way I’ve been acting?” Merlin asked.
“Yeah, like someone who had a very vivid sex dream and now desperately wants to avoid the person he had such very vivid sex with,” Arthur said sardonically.
Merlin blushed scarlet. Just thinking about said very vivid sex made him feel beyond embarrassed. He had moaned, for chrissakes. And not only that. He had shamelessly let Arthur suck his cock and tongue his hole and had practically begged Arthur to fuck him hard and deep, which had resulted in him coming all over himself and Arthur. And although Merlin would die before admitting it to Arthur Pendragon, it had been the best sex he had ever had in his life and how fucking pathetic was that? But then he remembered how wrecked Arthur had looked and the moans that had escaped his lips and wondered.
“How do you know we had the same dream?” Merlin challenged, aiming to deflect.
Arthur shrugged, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t know,” he said, giving Merlin a penetrating look. Whatever he saw seemed to bolster his confidence. “I’m just pretty sure we did.”
Merlin felt the heat rise in his cheeks. If Arthur had had the same dream as Merlin...
Arthur watched Merlin’s reactions unfold, almost seeming to be amused by Merlin’s obvious embarrassment. Then Arthur leaned in close to Merlin’s ear and whispered, “It’s okay to admit you enjoyed having me fuck your brains out, Merlin.”
Merlin felt the tips of his ears turn red but he managed to return, “And it’s okay for you to admit you enjoyed fucking my brains out, Arthur.”
Merlin was surprised to hear Arthur chuckle. “Can’t argue with that,” he said, giving Merlin a wink. Then he turned and left Merlin standing in the corridor, his mouth wide open and gaping.
What the bloody hell had Arthur meant by that?
Merlin accompanied Gwaine on one of his rounds through the castle. He had some nagging thoughts that really needed some out loud time.
“So, are you having any, um, strange dreams?” Merlin asked casually as they passed through what must have been the castle’s kitchen some point in time.
“You mean stranger than usual?”
“I mean, strange like a very intimate and vivid dream of having sex with someone you would definitely never ever think about having sex with.”
Gwaine stopped abruptly and raised an eyebrow. “You and Princess Pendragon?” Merlin blushed - how the hell had Gwaine guessed that? - and Gwaine followed this up with a gleeful, “Oh, do tell.”
Merlin provided Gwaine with vague details of his dream in which he and Arthur rather enthusiastically coupled. From the way Gwaine’s lips quirked, Merlin could tell Gwaine was teetering on grinning full-out, though he was trying not to show he was enjoying Merlin’s story way too much. “And the strangest thing of all,” Merlin continued, glaring at his security expert and friend, “is that Arthur apparently had the exact same dream.”
This made Gwaine’s eyebrows raise with more seriousness. “Exact as in...?”
“Down to the last detail,” Merlin told him, his cheeks flushing hot. “Or pretty much.”
“Awkward,” Gwaine commented.
“You’re telling me,” Merlin murmured back.
Arthur was the one to suggest switching up the sleeping arrangements later that evening. Merlin knew what he was thinking: that any dreams would bypass them if they were not in the same room together. It was the same thought Merlin had had.
So instead of sharing the chamber with Merlin, Arthur joined his teammates Leon, Percival and Elyan.
But the dream still came. This time, Merlin found himself astride Arthur, his hips rocking downward, his need to have Arthur’s cock deeper inside him desperate and strong. Arthur had his head flung back, neck exposed, his lips parted, panting. He looked completely wrecked and Merlin had never wanted anyone like he wanted Arthur right at that moment.
“You know this is a dream, right?” Merlin heard himself saying, his sub consciousness apparently kicking in through his sleep consciousness.
Dream Arthur grinned up at him. He cupped the back of Merlin’s neck and pulled Merlin down to him. “Yeah,” Merlin heard him say. “Want you like crazy,” he whispered against Merlin’s lips before taking them in a kiss that literally took Merlin’s breath away.
Merlin returned to his straddling position and rocked his hips down onto Arthur’s magnificent cock.
“Oh fuck, Merlin,” Arthur panted out. “You feel so good. Keep fucking yourself down on me like that.”
Merlin sped up the pace of his rocking, eager to drive Arthur over the edge. He wanted Arthur to come undone under him, wanted to feel the shockwave of Arthur’s orgasm as it ran through his body and to feel the warmth of Arthur’s seed as it filled him. Merlin knew it was just a dream but, gods, he wanted it all the same.
Merlin came first, shooting across Arthur’s stomach and chest. He felt Arthur’s hips jerk and then warmth filled him, accompanied by a string of “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin...” from Arthur’s lips.
“Merlin!”
Merlin awoke with a start and found Arthur hovering over him, trying to shake him awake. Merlin slowly pulled himself from the heavy sleep. He scrubbed a hand over his face. It felt like he hadn’t slept a wink. He wondered if Arthur had.
“Did you...?”
“Dream?” Arthur finished for him. He raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he answered. Obviously separating didn’t work.” He passed a hand over his face, the tired gesture telling Merlin that Arthur had managed to catch about as much sleep as he had.
There were questions Merlin wanted to ask Arthur about the dream so he did his best to push aside his embarrassment to ask bluntly, “We talked in this dream, didn’t we?”
Arthur appeared to blush and he turned away from Merlin to give his answer. “Yes. You asked me if I knew it was a dream and I told you yes.” There was a twenty second pause before Arthur turned to look at him and said, “I also told you I wanted you like crazy and then asked you to fuck yourself down on me because you felt so good.” Arthur darted a glance to the floor then settled his gaze back on Merlin, an odd sort of vulnerability in his expression. “Is that what happened in your dream?”
Merlin swallowed then nodded.
“Okay,” Arthur said, as though he were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “As far as I know, we’re the only ones having these dreams, right?” Merlin nodded. “And apparently we’re able to communicate in these dreams.” Merlin nodded again. “But why?” Merlin shrugged. “Why are we--” he gestured at the two of them “-having dreams in which we’re having bloody fucking fantastic sex--” Merlin raised his eyebrows “-and being able to talk to each other mid-dream-fuck but not able to pull ourselves out of the dream or prevent it from occurring in the first place.” He gave Merlin a look. “Am I missing something? What the fuck is it all supposed to mean?”
Merlin stared at Arthur. He had no answer. He hadn’t yet gotten past Arthur expressing that their dream sex was ‘bloody fucking fantastic’ to even begin thinking what any of it could possibly mean.
Arthur shocked him even further by asking suddenly, “What about that psychic chick on your team? She know much about dreams or is she strictly a fortune teller who gets off on doing exorcisms on the side?”
Merlin blinked at him. “Um,” he said, finally finding his voice. “Yeah, I think Elena might know something about dreams.”
“Okay, good,” Arthur replied with surprising calm. “Let’s go see what she has to say.”
They had agreed to keep the details of their shared dreams vague and general when asking Elena about what she thought they might mean. Still, Merlin sensed that Elena knew he wasn’t being completely honest with her. He might have felt bad about it, except that it would have been completely mortifying to have to divulge to Elena any of the details of the dreams they had had. Elena was a free spirit who made no judgements but she really didn’t need to hear how Arthur had dream-fucked Merlin senseless two nights in a row.
“Well, obviously there’s a psychic connection between you,” Elena said after they had told her the condensed, downgraded to very G version of their shared dreams.
“Obviously,” Arthur said, not bothering to hide the mild sarcasm. Merlin stuck his tongue out at him, making Elena giggle. “But what does it mean?”
Elena looked to reflect a moment then said, “You know, what I think might be happening is that these dreams are the spirits’ way of providing a distraction.”
“A distraction?” Arthur asked before Merlin could.
“Well, you know, Merlin’s got strong sensing abilities and, really, there’s never been a haunting he hasn’t been able to resolve,” Elena answered. “In short, Merlin is a kickass ghost buster. So I can see why the spirits might use dreams as a technique of distraction.”
“Oh,” said Arthur. “So you’re saying the ghosts are making us dream to distract us from hunting them?”
Elena’s face pinched in apology. “I’m saying I think they’re distracting Merlin for that reason,” she told Arthur. “You, I’m not so sure.”
Arthur cocked an eyebrow and Merlin coughed into his fist to cover his chuckle.
“Gee, thanks for going easy on my ego,” Arthur said dryly.
Elena quickly tried to back-peddle. “No! I mean, I’m sure you’re a very good ghost hunter, er, paranormal investigator or whatever it is you like to be called - well, not as good as Merlin, of course. Nobody is as good as Merlin--” Elena clapped a hand over her mouth as Arthur narrowed his eyes and fixed a scowl at her. “Oh dear,” Elena said, looking ever more apologetic. “I wasn’t meaning to offend. I, I just mean I think they are distracting you for a different reason.”
“Oh?” Arthur said, encouraging Elena to continue.
“Yes. Well, you see, the first day you disappeared from that vault with no possible explanation other than a spirit must have kidnapped you or hijacked you or something like that. And yesterday in the crypts, you were the one those skeleton ghosts seemed drawn to. Except for blasting poor Percy away, probably because of the visibility of the camera, they didn’t really bother with Merlin or Will. Based on those things, it’s hard not to think that the spirits here might be after you.”
It was Merlin’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “Wait. These are supposedly Arthur’s ancestors. Why would they be after him? Well, unless his namesake was a royal douchebag.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “King Arthur of Camelot was not a douchebag. Besides, spirits do not attach themselves emotionally to the living. That makes Morgana and I as much fair game as any of you, ancestors or no ancestors.”
“Hate to burst your bubble, cowboy,” Elena interjected. “But nothing’s happened to Morgana. You’re the only one out of all of us the spirits have directly connected with. I’m sorry but I’m with Merlin on this one. Maybe your great one hundred times over grandfather was a douchebag and the spirits are using you as a proxy to take out their revenge.”
The scowl on Arthur’s face indicated what he thought of Elena’s theory. Even Merlin had to admit it was a bit far-fetched, even if Arthur’s attitude made him wonder if being a prat was a distinctly heredity masculine characteristic. He recalled the vision he had had in the vault. If the Arthur-looking warrior in the vision had been King Arthur (and Merlin was now convinced it had been) Merlin would definitely attest that the man was not a douchebag. He couldn’t know this for sure, of course, but all of his intuition told him that King Arthur Pendragon had been a courageous and noble man who had fought for his people. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have any enemies (clearly he had, based on Merlin’s crystal vision) who might have been keen on coming back from the dead to wreak havoc. And the current Arthur Pendragon would be an attractive target for a vengeful spirit.
Arthur muttered something that sounded like “Scooby-doo psychic mumbo jumbo” before leaving Merlin and Elena for the company of his own team.
It was later in the morning when Morgana accosted him, coming back to the Great Hall after doing a sweep of the west wing with Gwaine (Arthur had requested to pair up with Morgana for a switch, which Merlin absolutely did not suspect was an avoidance tactic on Arthur’s part.)
She quirked a brow up and poked a finger at Merlin’s chest.
“So. You gonna tell me why my brother is suddenly mooning over you?”
“What?” Merlin squeaked out, thinking he must have misheard her. He thought she had said Arthur was mooning over him.
“Mooning, Merlin,” Morgana repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which is very odd because I’ve never known Arthur to moon.”
Merlin lifted his shoulder in a shrug, wishing he had the power to teleport himself when needed. “Um, I don’t know,” he said, avoiding Morgana’s soul-burning stare. “I saved his arse from a bunch of skeleton ghosts. Maybe he’s just...grateful?”
Morgana laughed and Merlin allowed himself to relax but only a little. “Merlin,” she said, “I think you know Arthur’s default setting is some variation of sneering scowl whether he’s grateful or not. No, my brother is definitely mooning over you. And I want to know why.”
“Merlin and Arthur are doing the nasty in their dreams,” Gwaine volunteered gleefully and Merlin gave him a look that indicated he planned to hex Gwaine for all of eternity.
“Oh,” Morgana said with a knowing smirk.
“There’s no ‘oh’,” Merlin quickly countered, feeling the blush already settling on his cheekbones. “They’re just dreams.”
“Dreams that the two of you are sharing down to the last detailed letter,” Gwaine helpfully pointed out and Merlin mentally went through the list of items he would need for the hex bag that would permanently zip Gwaine’s mouth shut.
“Sounds like a form of other-worldly bonding to me,” Morgana said, her look thoughtful.
Merlin gave her a sceptical look. “Other-worldly bonding?” he squawked. “There’s no bonding. They’re just dreams.”
Morgana arched an eyebrow. “Dreams are simply a dimension outside of the here and now, Merlin,” she explained in a tone that reminded him of Elena when she preached her psychic mumbo jumbo. “If you and Arthur are sharing the same sex dream, I’d say that’s pretty much an other-dimension bonding ritual.” Merlin gave her a sardonic look. “Merlin, you and Arthur are mating in your dreams--”
Merlin put his fingers in his ears. “Oh fuck, Morgana. Please stop!”
Gwaine threw his head back and laughed as Morgana grabbed Merlin’s fingers to pull them from his ears. “Bonding,” she said with a grin.
He left a laughing Gwaine and a smirking Morgana in search of better company. An hour later, Merlin was still unable to get the words “mating”, “bonding”, and “Arthur” out of his head.
Merlin and Arthur were in a corridor in the south wing of the castle, sweeping for paranormal activity. They were in the last stretch of their last day at the castle and so far the teams had jack-squat in terms of any useable evidence. Lance and Gwen had painstakingly sifted through all the camera footage and sound recordings from the burial crypts and the treasure vault but there had been nothing that would actually serve as evidence of paranormal activity, despite their first-hand accounts. The promise of thirty thousand pounds was slipping away with the daylight and both teams were determined to capture something out of which they could make a case.
He slid a sidelong glance at Arthur who seemed overly preoccupied with adjusting the controls of his EMF detector. Arthur had been strangely quiet since they had begun their sweep and Merlin couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with the long conversation Arthur had had with Morgana just before teaming back up with Merlin, a conversation that had probably included the words “mooning”, “bonding” and “mating”.
Merlin was debating whether he should throw it all out there just for something to break the uncomfortable silence but Arthur beat him to it.
“Morgana thinks I’m mooning over you,” Arthur said abruptly, though he still fiddled with the knobs on the detector. “Mooning? What the hell? I do not moon.”
“No, of course not,” Merlin replied, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that.
Arthur stopped in the middle of the corridor. “Okay so maybe I have been developing feelings based on these dreams we’re having and because we’ve been working together the past few days...”
Feelings?
“...but that doesn’t mean I’m arse over tits for you or anything. That’s just plain rubbish.” He looked at Merlin. “I mean, you’re....you, and--”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Merlin said indignantly. Had Arthur just gone from sort of confessing he had feelings for Merlin to pretty much insulting him?
“Nothing,” Arthur defended, giving Merlin his best affronted look. Merlin’s indignation turned to seething. It was just like Arthur Pendragon to turn everything around so that he became the wounded one.
“Look,” said Merlin angrily, “let’s just forget about the stupid dreams. I don’t care what Morgana thinks, there’s no other-worldly bonding happening between us.” He gestured between them. “It’s simple. I don’t like you and you don’t like me. This job is going to be over soon, which means that we’re not going to have to see each other again and that’s fine by me.”
Merlin had meant for his words to sting a little but the hurt look on Arthur’s face suggested that they had stung a lot. This surprised Merlin who figured Arthur was the tough sort who usually let things roll off of him (and what didn’t roll off Arthur countered with strategic arrogance and insults). He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling somewhat bad, and prepared to make at least a half-apology but before he could consider the words he should say, Arthur backed him up against the stone wall and crushed their mouths together.
The kiss awakened all of Merlin’s senses, making it difficult to separate the intense feelings he had experienced in the dreams from the developing feelings he was now having. Dream Arthur was his soulmate, the one who made him whole, and yet Real Arthur, the one who was kissing him now, was new and unexplored, and Merlin found himself wanting to map every last detail of this man.
Arthur pulled back slightly and whispered, “See what I mean? Feelings.” Then he went back to kissing Merlin.
But something beyond suddenly caught Merlin’s attention. “Is that...?” he asked, pulling his mouth away to focus on the feminine figure he had caught a glimpse of at the end of the corridor. The figure, dressed in flowing black, turned and smiled at him before disappearing around the corner.
Arthur sighed. “Yeah, think I’m gonna stick to kissing you in my dreams,” he muttered.
Merlin was only half-listening though. The figure he had seen had been Morgana. But not the Morgana who had come to Camelot to investigate, not unless she had brought along a really sweet cosplay costume and had tucked away a curling iron in her backpack for the ghost hunt. Still, the resemblance had been eerily uncanny.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Arthur’s arm and tugging him along. “I just saw someone who looks like your sister.”
“Morgana?”
“Yeah. But it can’t be.” Merlin let go of Arthur to hurry forward, determined to catch up to the Morgana look-alike. Maybe she was the key, he thought.
The figure wisped around the corner. Merlin quickly followed, reaching out a hand to catch the prize he was so close to finally grasping.
Around the corner, he collided with the real Morgana, who looked down at Merlin’s hand on her chest then narrowed her eyes at him.
“Morgana!” Merlin shouted, telling himself it had been a manly exclamation and not a girlish scream. He quickly withdrew his hand from Morgana’s bosom.
“Merlin, we’ve been trying to reach you and Arthur for the last half hour,” Morgana said, her voice full of urgency. “There’s all kinds of activity happening in the east wing and we want everyone there. You and Arthur haven’t been answering your radios so I figured it would be quicker just to find you.”
Merlin reached into his cargos for his walkie talkie, his brows furrowing when he saw that that the power indicator light was on. “I didn’t receive any calls,” he told Morgana. He threw a look over his shoulder to ask Arthur, “Did any calls come through-oh crap.”
Of course, Arthur was not there.
“Oh, don’t tell me he’s missing again,” Morgana said with a sigh.
“He was just here,” Merlin insisted, jogging down the corridor to see if Arthur was hiding somewhere in an alcove just to be a right prat. But he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. Merlin jogged back to Morgana. “Look, just go on and get everything set up in the east wing,” he told her. “It’s our last chance to get any evidence.”
“What about Arthur?” Morgana asked, looking rightfully concerned.
“I’ll look for Arthur,” Merlin said. “He couldn’t have wandered off too far,” he added in a casual tone he knew Morgana would not buy.
She nodded anyway just to play along.
Merlin raced through the corridors in the south wing looking for Arthur. He knew, just as Morgana did, that it was unlikely that Arthur had simply “wandered off” and that it was more likely that he had been lured away again by some spirit, but for what possible reason Merlin still could not understand. He only half-agreed with Elena’s theory that the spirits were latching onto Arthur as a proxy for his ancestral namesake. Merlin believed that was part of it but he didn’t think it was the whole story. He hadn’t mentioned this to Elena or to Arthur, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the spirits here were not aiming to hurt Arthur but to protect him. What Merlin didn’t know (and this was what was bothering him at the moment) was what side the Morgana look-alike spirit was on.
Merlin made his way through the west wing and then the north central wing but there was no sign of Arthur. He descended the large staircase and headed toward the Great Hall, figuring if Arthur had ‘come to’ somewhere like he had his last disappearance, he would probably go there to meet up with the rest of them.
When Merlin entered the corridor leading to the Great Hall, Arthur was in fact travelling the path Merlin had predicted.
“Arthur!” he yelled out to him, quickening his pace. Arthur did not appear to hear him so he yelled out again.
But Arthur did not respond. Merlin watched as Arthur pulled open the heavy doors of the Great Hall and disappeared inside. Merlin broke into a run, suddenly sensing that Arthur was in danger.
He was intercepted, however, by Spirit Morgana who seemed to appear out of thin air. The apparition was not as strong as the first one he had seen, as though she had lost some of her ghost energy, and her face was frighteningly grave.
“Forp fleoge!” Merlin shouted, hoping to fling the spirit out of his immediate path. He had to get to Arthur.
Spirit Morgana screeched, her ghostly body fading some more as she tried to resist being cast away. A deep cold settled around Merlin as the spirit floated in close to him. “Hurry!” she commanded urgently. “You must save him!”
Merlin now understood that she was trying to help him not stop him; she wanted Merlin to save Arthur. Her message delivered, the spirit dissolved into a misty spectre that became part of the corridor. Merlin rushed to the doors of the Great Hall to pull them open.
But he found the doors locked. Merlin banged his fists on the heavy door. “Arthur!” he yelled. “Arthur!”
A foreboding sense of terrible evil filled him as he banged helplessly on the doors, calling out for Arthur. Merlin needed to get into the hall. He needed to save Arthur. That was why he was here.
“Tospringe,” Merlin found himself uttering and was surprised when the doors to the Great Hall sprung open. He wasted no time and rushed inside.
The scene before him was beyond what Merlin had imagined. The Great Hall had been transformed into a battlefield; there were slain bodies everywhere save for two soldiers who continued to fight. Merlin watched as Arthur (not the armour-clad Arthur he had seen in the vision, but the PPI Arthur, his Arthur) thrust a sword at the dark mage, plunging it into his midsection. He pulled it back then collapsed to his knees. The dark mage clutched his abdomen where the sword had pierced it, then stretched out his hand...
“Arthur!” Merlin screamed. Running high on adrenaline and instinct, Merlin darted forward, shouting “Hleap on baec! Flieh on nu moras! Ablinn du forlaet du nu!”, as he put himself between the sorcerer and Arthur.
Merlin felt a blast of energy course through him as the black magic the dying sorcerer had intended for Arthur struck him. He felt pain but it was mixed with the relief of knowing he had been able to save Arthur. Merlin had fulfilled his destiny.
Then he passed out.
A blurry face he recognized as Arthur slowly came into focus.
“Arthur?” he croaked, his throat feeling like sandpaper.
Arthur smiled at him. “Glad you’re still with us, Merlin,” he said. “I was afraid we’d lost you.”
There was a raucous at the entrance as Gwaine, Leon, Percy, Will and Morgana burst into the Great Hall, followed by Lance and Gwen, Elyan, Freya and Elena.
“What the hell happened?” Morgana asked, rushing toward them. “Our equipment was registering all kinds of activity in here but we couldn’t get in! We couldn’t get to you!”
“Well,” said Arthur and Merlin now realized that Arthur was hovering protectively over him. “Let’s just say a very nasty spirit tried to kill me.”
“Oh my god,” Morgana expressed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Arthur assured her then smiled at Merlin. “But only because Merlin here managed to get in the way.”
“Yeah, he tends to do that,” Gwaine commented with a grin.
Morgana’s face was pale and etched with worry. “I’m okay,” Merlin told her. Arthur was safe. He was okay. Everything was okay.
“I really don’t know how,” Arthur said suddenly, passing a shaky hand through his hair. “I saw freaking ghost magic pass right through you! Bloody hell, Merlin! What were you thinking? You could have died, you idiot.”
“Nah,” Merlin replied, warm affection spreading through him at the realization that Arthur had been worried about him. “I’m a kickass ghost buster, remember? Elena said so.”
Arthur blew out a sigh then chuckled. “You are that,” he conceded. “But just don’t do anything stupid like that ever again.”
“You mean stupid like saving your life?”
“Exactly,” Arthur said. Then, catching Merlin completely by surprise, he leaned forward and captured Merlin’s mouth with his.
“About time,” Gwaine whistled appreciatively.
“Told you. Mooning,” Morgana said smugly.
“Definitely a psychic connection,” said Elena with glee.
“Don’t you mean a lust connection?” Will added dryly.
“Arthur and Merlin? Really?” asked Leon obliviously.
“Yes, really,” Lance and Gwen both replied.
“Where have you been the past three days?” expressed Percy.
“Even the ghosts had it figured out,” said Elyan and Freya nodded vigorously beside him.
Merlin and Arthur barely heard any of it. They were too busy kissing each other senseless.
There were two envelopes, one addressed to the BOO-Busters and one addressed to him. He opened the one for the team first and was surprised to find a check for thirty thousand pounds. Merlin was confused. They hadn’t been able to present any kind of evidence of paranormal activity at Camelot Castle; their equipment had been damaged and all photo, video and audio evidence had been messed up. Why had the Dragon Trust still paid Merlin and his team?
Thinking it might contain a reasonable explanation, he opened the other envelope but instead found a slip of paper. In bold, defined handwriting was written: Merlin - I trust you found the half which makes you whole. It was signed “Kilgharrah”.
Hmph, he thought, and just then his mobile rang. It was Arthur. Apparently, PPI had received a check in the amount of thirty thousand pounds as well and, like Merlin, Arthur had been left a separate envelope with a note.
“What did your note say?” Merlin asked, suddenly feeling breathless.
“Some drivel about destiny and two sides of the same coin,” Arthur said. “That Kigharrah chap is definitely a nut case. I mean, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Merlin stared down at the note in his hand and smiled. He thought he might have a pretty good idea.
“So...” Merlin said tentatively, not sure what step he was supposed to take next.
“So,” Arthur mimicked, chuckling. “How about I come over to your place and we see if we can maybe re-enact some of those dreams?”
Merlin laughed, his nervousness dissipating now that he understood Arthur was on the same page. “Yeah,” he replied more boldly. “Let’s see if we can do that.”
“Be there in fifteen,” Arthur said, quickly hanging up.
“Does being a prat ever skip a generation?” the warlock asked his king.
“Says the man whose ancestors are clearly destined never to develop any fashion sense,” the king replied dryly, the corner of his lips quirking up.
“One way or another, I’ve been saving your neck for centuries, though,” the warlock retorted smugly.
The king smiled fondly. “Yes, Merlin, you have.”
Arthur leaned in then and kissed his warlock senseless, knowing it was the most effective way to shut Merlin up, even in the afterlife.
THE
END
PAIRINGS: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Gwaine, Lancelot/Gwen, and hinted-at others.
RATING: NC-17
WORD COUNT: ~ 18k
SUMMARY: Merlin and his team are commissioned to investigate the hauntings at the famed Camelot Castle and get more than they bargained for when they find that the paranormal investigation team led by Arthur Pendragon has been commissioned to do the same.
NOTES: Written for Prompt #15 for merlin_horror fest.
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3
PART 1 | PART 2
Of course, Arthur followed him into the corridor. He caught Merlin by the arm and Merlin huffed out a sigh, reluctantly turning to face him.
“Look, are we going to talk about it or are we just going to pretend like nothing happened?” Arthur threw out. “Because, believe me, I’m all for pretending, if that’s the way you want to go.”
Merlin gave Arthur a puzzled look. “W-What?” Was Arthur calling him out on what had happened in the crypts ? Was he really that arrogant that he couldn’t deal with admitting Merlin had actually saved his arse by casting off those skeleton ghosts?
Arthur rolled his eyes. “The dream, Merlin,” he explained. Merlin tried not to goggle at him but failed epically. “Fuck, it was so real,” he expressed, his eyes getting a faraway look before snapping back to Merlin’s face. “And the way you’ve been acting, I know I can’t be the only one who had it.”
“The way I’ve been acting?” Merlin asked.
“Yeah, like someone who had a very vivid sex dream and now desperately wants to avoid the person he had such very vivid sex with,” Arthur said sardonically.
Merlin blushed scarlet. Just thinking about said very vivid sex made him feel beyond embarrassed. He had moaned, for chrissakes. And not only that. He had shamelessly let Arthur suck his cock and tongue his hole and had practically begged Arthur to fuck him hard and deep, which had resulted in him coming all over himself and Arthur. And although Merlin would die before admitting it to Arthur Pendragon, it had been the best sex he had ever had in his life and how fucking pathetic was that? But then he remembered how wrecked Arthur had looked and the moans that had escaped his lips and wondered.
“How do you know we had the same dream?” Merlin challenged, aiming to deflect.
Arthur shrugged, crossing his arms against his chest. “I don’t know,” he said, giving Merlin a penetrating look. Whatever he saw seemed to bolster his confidence. “I’m just pretty sure we did.”
Merlin felt the heat rise in his cheeks. If Arthur had had the same dream as Merlin...
Arthur watched Merlin’s reactions unfold, almost seeming to be amused by Merlin’s obvious embarrassment. Then Arthur leaned in close to Merlin’s ear and whispered, “It’s okay to admit you enjoyed having me fuck your brains out, Merlin.”
Merlin felt the tips of his ears turn red but he managed to return, “And it’s okay for you to admit you enjoyed fucking my brains out, Arthur.”
Merlin was surprised to hear Arthur chuckle. “Can’t argue with that,” he said, giving Merlin a wink. Then he turned and left Merlin standing in the corridor, his mouth wide open and gaping.
What the bloody hell had Arthur meant by that?
Merlin accompanied Gwaine on one of his rounds through the castle. He had some nagging thoughts that really needed some out loud time.
“So, are you having any, um, strange dreams?” Merlin asked casually as they passed through what must have been the castle’s kitchen some point in time.
“You mean stranger than usual?”
“I mean, strange like a very intimate and vivid dream of having sex with someone you would definitely never ever think about having sex with.”
Gwaine stopped abruptly and raised an eyebrow. “You and Princess Pendragon?” Merlin blushed - how the hell had Gwaine guessed that? - and Gwaine followed this up with a gleeful, “Oh, do tell.”
Merlin provided Gwaine with vague details of his dream in which he and Arthur rather enthusiastically coupled. From the way Gwaine’s lips quirked, Merlin could tell Gwaine was teetering on grinning full-out, though he was trying not to show he was enjoying Merlin’s story way too much. “And the strangest thing of all,” Merlin continued, glaring at his security expert and friend, “is that Arthur apparently had the exact same dream.”
This made Gwaine’s eyebrows raise with more seriousness. “Exact as in...?”
“Down to the last detail,” Merlin told him, his cheeks flushing hot. “Or pretty much.”
“Awkward,” Gwaine commented.
“You’re telling me,” Merlin murmured back.
Arthur was the one to suggest switching up the sleeping arrangements later that evening. Merlin knew what he was thinking: that any dreams would bypass them if they were not in the same room together. It was the same thought Merlin had had.
So instead of sharing the chamber with Merlin, Arthur joined his teammates Leon, Percival and Elyan.
But the dream still came. This time, Merlin found himself astride Arthur, his hips rocking downward, his need to have Arthur’s cock deeper inside him desperate and strong. Arthur had his head flung back, neck exposed, his lips parted, panting. He looked completely wrecked and Merlin had never wanted anyone like he wanted Arthur right at that moment.
“You know this is a dream, right?” Merlin heard himself saying, his sub consciousness apparently kicking in through his sleep consciousness.
Dream Arthur grinned up at him. He cupped the back of Merlin’s neck and pulled Merlin down to him. “Yeah,” Merlin heard him say. “Want you like crazy,” he whispered against Merlin’s lips before taking them in a kiss that literally took Merlin’s breath away.
Merlin returned to his straddling position and rocked his hips down onto Arthur’s magnificent cock.
“Oh fuck, Merlin,” Arthur panted out. “You feel so good. Keep fucking yourself down on me like that.”
Merlin sped up the pace of his rocking, eager to drive Arthur over the edge. He wanted Arthur to come undone under him, wanted to feel the shockwave of Arthur’s orgasm as it ran through his body and to feel the warmth of Arthur’s seed as it filled him. Merlin knew it was just a dream but, gods, he wanted it all the same.
Merlin came first, shooting across Arthur’s stomach and chest. He felt Arthur’s hips jerk and then warmth filled him, accompanied by a string of “Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, Merlin...” from Arthur’s lips.
“Merlin!”
Merlin awoke with a start and found Arthur hovering over him, trying to shake him awake. Merlin slowly pulled himself from the heavy sleep. He scrubbed a hand over his face. It felt like he hadn’t slept a wink. He wondered if Arthur had.
“Did you...?”
“Dream?” Arthur finished for him. He raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he answered. Obviously separating didn’t work.” He passed a hand over his face, the tired gesture telling Merlin that Arthur had managed to catch about as much sleep as he had.
There were questions Merlin wanted to ask Arthur about the dream so he did his best to push aside his embarrassment to ask bluntly, “We talked in this dream, didn’t we?”
Arthur appeared to blush and he turned away from Merlin to give his answer. “Yes. You asked me if I knew it was a dream and I told you yes.” There was a twenty second pause before Arthur turned to look at him and said, “I also told you I wanted you like crazy and then asked you to fuck yourself down on me because you felt so good.” Arthur darted a glance to the floor then settled his gaze back on Merlin, an odd sort of vulnerability in his expression. “Is that what happened in your dream?”
Merlin swallowed then nodded.
“Okay,” Arthur said, as though he were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together. “As far as I know, we’re the only ones having these dreams, right?” Merlin nodded. “And apparently we’re able to communicate in these dreams.” Merlin nodded again. “But why?” Merlin shrugged. “Why are we--” he gestured at the two of them “-having dreams in which we’re having bloody fucking fantastic sex--” Merlin raised his eyebrows “-and being able to talk to each other mid-dream-fuck but not able to pull ourselves out of the dream or prevent it from occurring in the first place.” He gave Merlin a look. “Am I missing something? What the fuck is it all supposed to mean?”
Merlin stared at Arthur. He had no answer. He hadn’t yet gotten past Arthur expressing that their dream sex was ‘bloody fucking fantastic’ to even begin thinking what any of it could possibly mean.
Arthur shocked him even further by asking suddenly, “What about that psychic chick on your team? She know much about dreams or is she strictly a fortune teller who gets off on doing exorcisms on the side?”
Merlin blinked at him. “Um,” he said, finally finding his voice. “Yeah, I think Elena might know something about dreams.”
“Okay, good,” Arthur replied with surprising calm. “Let’s go see what she has to say.”
They had agreed to keep the details of their shared dreams vague and general when asking Elena about what she thought they might mean. Still, Merlin sensed that Elena knew he wasn’t being completely honest with her. He might have felt bad about it, except that it would have been completely mortifying to have to divulge to Elena any of the details of the dreams they had had. Elena was a free spirit who made no judgements but she really didn’t need to hear how Arthur had dream-fucked Merlin senseless two nights in a row.
“Well, obviously there’s a psychic connection between you,” Elena said after they had told her the condensed, downgraded to very G version of their shared dreams.
“Obviously,” Arthur said, not bothering to hide the mild sarcasm. Merlin stuck his tongue out at him, making Elena giggle. “But what does it mean?”
Elena looked to reflect a moment then said, “You know, what I think might be happening is that these dreams are the spirits’ way of providing a distraction.”
“A distraction?” Arthur asked before Merlin could.
“Well, you know, Merlin’s got strong sensing abilities and, really, there’s never been a haunting he hasn’t been able to resolve,” Elena answered. “In short, Merlin is a kickass ghost buster. So I can see why the spirits might use dreams as a technique of distraction.”
“Oh,” said Arthur. “So you’re saying the ghosts are making us dream to distract us from hunting them?”
Elena’s face pinched in apology. “I’m saying I think they’re distracting Merlin for that reason,” she told Arthur. “You, I’m not so sure.”
Arthur cocked an eyebrow and Merlin coughed into his fist to cover his chuckle.
“Gee, thanks for going easy on my ego,” Arthur said dryly.
Elena quickly tried to back-peddle. “No! I mean, I’m sure you’re a very good ghost hunter, er, paranormal investigator or whatever it is you like to be called - well, not as good as Merlin, of course. Nobody is as good as Merlin--” Elena clapped a hand over her mouth as Arthur narrowed his eyes and fixed a scowl at her. “Oh dear,” Elena said, looking ever more apologetic. “I wasn’t meaning to offend. I, I just mean I think they are distracting you for a different reason.”
“Oh?” Arthur said, encouraging Elena to continue.
“Yes. Well, you see, the first day you disappeared from that vault with no possible explanation other than a spirit must have kidnapped you or hijacked you or something like that. And yesterday in the crypts, you were the one those skeleton ghosts seemed drawn to. Except for blasting poor Percy away, probably because of the visibility of the camera, they didn’t really bother with Merlin or Will. Based on those things, it’s hard not to think that the spirits here might be after you.”
It was Merlin’s turn to cock an eyebrow. “Wait. These are supposedly Arthur’s ancestors. Why would they be after him? Well, unless his namesake was a royal douchebag.”
“Merlin,” Arthur said, “King Arthur of Camelot was not a douchebag. Besides, spirits do not attach themselves emotionally to the living. That makes Morgana and I as much fair game as any of you, ancestors or no ancestors.”
“Hate to burst your bubble, cowboy,” Elena interjected. “But nothing’s happened to Morgana. You’re the only one out of all of us the spirits have directly connected with. I’m sorry but I’m with Merlin on this one. Maybe your great one hundred times over grandfather was a douchebag and the spirits are using you as a proxy to take out their revenge.”
The scowl on Arthur’s face indicated what he thought of Elena’s theory. Even Merlin had to admit it was a bit far-fetched, even if Arthur’s attitude made him wonder if being a prat was a distinctly heredity masculine characteristic. He recalled the vision he had had in the vault. If the Arthur-looking warrior in the vision had been King Arthur (and Merlin was now convinced it had been) Merlin would definitely attest that the man was not a douchebag. He couldn’t know this for sure, of course, but all of his intuition told him that King Arthur Pendragon had been a courageous and noble man who had fought for his people. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have any enemies (clearly he had, based on Merlin’s crystal vision) who might have been keen on coming back from the dead to wreak havoc. And the current Arthur Pendragon would be an attractive target for a vengeful spirit.
Arthur muttered something that sounded like “Scooby-doo psychic mumbo jumbo” before leaving Merlin and Elena for the company of his own team.
It was later in the morning when Morgana accosted him, coming back to the Great Hall after doing a sweep of the west wing with Gwaine (Arthur had requested to pair up with Morgana for a switch, which Merlin absolutely did not suspect was an avoidance tactic on Arthur’s part.)
She quirked a brow up and poked a finger at Merlin’s chest.
“So. You gonna tell me why my brother is suddenly mooning over you?”
“What?” Merlin squeaked out, thinking he must have misheard her. He thought she had said Arthur was mooning over him.
“Mooning, Merlin,” Morgana repeated, crossing her arms over her chest. “Which is very odd because I’ve never known Arthur to moon.”
Merlin lifted his shoulder in a shrug, wishing he had the power to teleport himself when needed. “Um, I don’t know,” he said, avoiding Morgana’s soul-burning stare. “I saved his arse from a bunch of skeleton ghosts. Maybe he’s just...grateful?”
Morgana laughed and Merlin allowed himself to relax but only a little. “Merlin,” she said, “I think you know Arthur’s default setting is some variation of sneering scowl whether he’s grateful or not. No, my brother is definitely mooning over you. And I want to know why.”
“Merlin and Arthur are doing the nasty in their dreams,” Gwaine volunteered gleefully and Merlin gave him a look that indicated he planned to hex Gwaine for all of eternity.
“Oh,” Morgana said with a knowing smirk.
“There’s no ‘oh’,” Merlin quickly countered, feeling the blush already settling on his cheekbones. “They’re just dreams.”
“Dreams that the two of you are sharing down to the last detailed letter,” Gwaine helpfully pointed out and Merlin mentally went through the list of items he would need for the hex bag that would permanently zip Gwaine’s mouth shut.
“Sounds like a form of other-worldly bonding to me,” Morgana said, her look thoughtful.
Merlin gave her a sceptical look. “Other-worldly bonding?” he squawked. “There’s no bonding. They’re just dreams.”
Morgana arched an eyebrow. “Dreams are simply a dimension outside of the here and now, Merlin,” she explained in a tone that reminded him of Elena when she preached her psychic mumbo jumbo. “If you and Arthur are sharing the same sex dream, I’d say that’s pretty much an other-dimension bonding ritual.” Merlin gave her a sardonic look. “Merlin, you and Arthur are mating in your dreams--”
Merlin put his fingers in his ears. “Oh fuck, Morgana. Please stop!”
Gwaine threw his head back and laughed as Morgana grabbed Merlin’s fingers to pull them from his ears. “Bonding,” she said with a grin.
He left a laughing Gwaine and a smirking Morgana in search of better company. An hour later, Merlin was still unable to get the words “mating”, “bonding”, and “Arthur” out of his head.
Merlin and Arthur were in a corridor in the south wing of the castle, sweeping for paranormal activity. They were in the last stretch of their last day at the castle and so far the teams had jack-squat in terms of any useable evidence. Lance and Gwen had painstakingly sifted through all the camera footage and sound recordings from the burial crypts and the treasure vault but there had been nothing that would actually serve as evidence of paranormal activity, despite their first-hand accounts. The promise of thirty thousand pounds was slipping away with the daylight and both teams were determined to capture something out of which they could make a case.
He slid a sidelong glance at Arthur who seemed overly preoccupied with adjusting the controls of his EMF detector. Arthur had been strangely quiet since they had begun their sweep and Merlin couldn’t help wondering if it had something to do with the long conversation Arthur had had with Morgana just before teaming back up with Merlin, a conversation that had probably included the words “mooning”, “bonding” and “mating”.
Merlin was debating whether he should throw it all out there just for something to break the uncomfortable silence but Arthur beat him to it.
“Morgana thinks I’m mooning over you,” Arthur said abruptly, though he still fiddled with the knobs on the detector. “Mooning? What the hell? I do not moon.”
“No, of course not,” Merlin replied, not sure how he was supposed to respond to that.
Arthur stopped in the middle of the corridor. “Okay so maybe I have been developing feelings based on these dreams we’re having and because we’ve been working together the past few days...”
Feelings?
“...but that doesn’t mean I’m arse over tits for you or anything. That’s just plain rubbish.” He looked at Merlin. “I mean, you’re....you, and--”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Merlin said indignantly. Had Arthur just gone from sort of confessing he had feelings for Merlin to pretty much insulting him?
“Nothing,” Arthur defended, giving Merlin his best affronted look. Merlin’s indignation turned to seething. It was just like Arthur Pendragon to turn everything around so that he became the wounded one.
“Look,” said Merlin angrily, “let’s just forget about the stupid dreams. I don’t care what Morgana thinks, there’s no other-worldly bonding happening between us.” He gestured between them. “It’s simple. I don’t like you and you don’t like me. This job is going to be over soon, which means that we’re not going to have to see each other again and that’s fine by me.”
Merlin had meant for his words to sting a little but the hurt look on Arthur’s face suggested that they had stung a lot. This surprised Merlin who figured Arthur was the tough sort who usually let things roll off of him (and what didn’t roll off Arthur countered with strategic arrogance and insults). He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling somewhat bad, and prepared to make at least a half-apology but before he could consider the words he should say, Arthur backed him up against the stone wall and crushed their mouths together.
The kiss awakened all of Merlin’s senses, making it difficult to separate the intense feelings he had experienced in the dreams from the developing feelings he was now having. Dream Arthur was his soulmate, the one who made him whole, and yet Real Arthur, the one who was kissing him now, was new and unexplored, and Merlin found himself wanting to map every last detail of this man.
Arthur pulled back slightly and whispered, “See what I mean? Feelings.” Then he went back to kissing Merlin.
But something beyond suddenly caught Merlin’s attention. “Is that...?” he asked, pulling his mouth away to focus on the feminine figure he had caught a glimpse of at the end of the corridor. The figure, dressed in flowing black, turned and smiled at him before disappearing around the corner.
Arthur sighed. “Yeah, think I’m gonna stick to kissing you in my dreams,” he muttered.
Merlin was only half-listening though. The figure he had seen had been Morgana. But not the Morgana who had come to Camelot to investigate, not unless she had brought along a really sweet cosplay costume and had tucked away a curling iron in her backpack for the ghost hunt. Still, the resemblance had been eerily uncanny.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing Arthur’s arm and tugging him along. “I just saw someone who looks like your sister.”
“Morgana?”
“Yeah. But it can’t be.” Merlin let go of Arthur to hurry forward, determined to catch up to the Morgana look-alike. Maybe she was the key, he thought.
The figure wisped around the corner. Merlin quickly followed, reaching out a hand to catch the prize he was so close to finally grasping.
Around the corner, he collided with the real Morgana, who looked down at Merlin’s hand on her chest then narrowed her eyes at him.
“Morgana!” Merlin shouted, telling himself it had been a manly exclamation and not a girlish scream. He quickly withdrew his hand from Morgana’s bosom.
“Merlin, we’ve been trying to reach you and Arthur for the last half hour,” Morgana said, her voice full of urgency. “There’s all kinds of activity happening in the east wing and we want everyone there. You and Arthur haven’t been answering your radios so I figured it would be quicker just to find you.”
Merlin reached into his cargos for his walkie talkie, his brows furrowing when he saw that that the power indicator light was on. “I didn’t receive any calls,” he told Morgana. He threw a look over his shoulder to ask Arthur, “Did any calls come through-oh crap.”
Of course, Arthur was not there.
“Oh, don’t tell me he’s missing again,” Morgana said with a sigh.
“He was just here,” Merlin insisted, jogging down the corridor to see if Arthur was hiding somewhere in an alcove just to be a right prat. But he wasn’t. Of course, he wasn’t. Merlin jogged back to Morgana. “Look, just go on and get everything set up in the east wing,” he told her. “It’s our last chance to get any evidence.”
“What about Arthur?” Morgana asked, looking rightfully concerned.
“I’ll look for Arthur,” Merlin said. “He couldn’t have wandered off too far,” he added in a casual tone he knew Morgana would not buy.
She nodded anyway just to play along.
Merlin raced through the corridors in the south wing looking for Arthur. He knew, just as Morgana did, that it was unlikely that Arthur had simply “wandered off” and that it was more likely that he had been lured away again by some spirit, but for what possible reason Merlin still could not understand. He only half-agreed with Elena’s theory that the spirits were latching onto Arthur as a proxy for his ancestral namesake. Merlin believed that was part of it but he didn’t think it was the whole story. He hadn’t mentioned this to Elena or to Arthur, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that some of the spirits here were not aiming to hurt Arthur but to protect him. What Merlin didn’t know (and this was what was bothering him at the moment) was what side the Morgana look-alike spirit was on.
Merlin made his way through the west wing and then the north central wing but there was no sign of Arthur. He descended the large staircase and headed toward the Great Hall, figuring if Arthur had ‘come to’ somewhere like he had his last disappearance, he would probably go there to meet up with the rest of them.
When Merlin entered the corridor leading to the Great Hall, Arthur was in fact travelling the path Merlin had predicted.
“Arthur!” he yelled out to him, quickening his pace. Arthur did not appear to hear him so he yelled out again.
But Arthur did not respond. Merlin watched as Arthur pulled open the heavy doors of the Great Hall and disappeared inside. Merlin broke into a run, suddenly sensing that Arthur was in danger.
He was intercepted, however, by Spirit Morgana who seemed to appear out of thin air. The apparition was not as strong as the first one he had seen, as though she had lost some of her ghost energy, and her face was frighteningly grave.
“Forp fleoge!” Merlin shouted, hoping to fling the spirit out of his immediate path. He had to get to Arthur.
Spirit Morgana screeched, her ghostly body fading some more as she tried to resist being cast away. A deep cold settled around Merlin as the spirit floated in close to him. “Hurry!” she commanded urgently. “You must save him!”
Merlin now understood that she was trying to help him not stop him; she wanted Merlin to save Arthur. Her message delivered, the spirit dissolved into a misty spectre that became part of the corridor. Merlin rushed to the doors of the Great Hall to pull them open.
But he found the doors locked. Merlin banged his fists on the heavy door. “Arthur!” he yelled. “Arthur!”
A foreboding sense of terrible evil filled him as he banged helplessly on the doors, calling out for Arthur. Merlin needed to get into the hall. He needed to save Arthur. That was why he was here.
“Tospringe,” Merlin found himself uttering and was surprised when the doors to the Great Hall sprung open. He wasted no time and rushed inside.
The scene before him was beyond what Merlin had imagined. The Great Hall had been transformed into a battlefield; there were slain bodies everywhere save for two soldiers who continued to fight. Merlin watched as Arthur (not the armour-clad Arthur he had seen in the vision, but the PPI Arthur, his Arthur) thrust a sword at the dark mage, plunging it into his midsection. He pulled it back then collapsed to his knees. The dark mage clutched his abdomen where the sword had pierced it, then stretched out his hand...
“Arthur!” Merlin screamed. Running high on adrenaline and instinct, Merlin darted forward, shouting “Hleap on baec! Flieh on nu moras! Ablinn du forlaet du nu!”, as he put himself between the sorcerer and Arthur.
Merlin felt a blast of energy course through him as the black magic the dying sorcerer had intended for Arthur struck him. He felt pain but it was mixed with the relief of knowing he had been able to save Arthur. Merlin had fulfilled his destiny.
Then he passed out.
A blurry face he recognized as Arthur slowly came into focus.
“Arthur?” he croaked, his throat feeling like sandpaper.
Arthur smiled at him. “Glad you’re still with us, Merlin,” he said. “I was afraid we’d lost you.”
There was a raucous at the entrance as Gwaine, Leon, Percy, Will and Morgana burst into the Great Hall, followed by Lance and Gwen, Elyan, Freya and Elena.
“What the hell happened?” Morgana asked, rushing toward them. “Our equipment was registering all kinds of activity in here but we couldn’t get in! We couldn’t get to you!”
“Well,” said Arthur and Merlin now realized that Arthur was hovering protectively over him. “Let’s just say a very nasty spirit tried to kill me.”
“Oh my god,” Morgana expressed. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” Arthur assured her then smiled at Merlin. “But only because Merlin here managed to get in the way.”
“Yeah, he tends to do that,” Gwaine commented with a grin.
Morgana’s face was pale and etched with worry. “I’m okay,” Merlin told her. Arthur was safe. He was okay. Everything was okay.
“I really don’t know how,” Arthur said suddenly, passing a shaky hand through his hair. “I saw freaking ghost magic pass right through you! Bloody hell, Merlin! What were you thinking? You could have died, you idiot.”
“Nah,” Merlin replied, warm affection spreading through him at the realization that Arthur had been worried about him. “I’m a kickass ghost buster, remember? Elena said so.”
Arthur blew out a sigh then chuckled. “You are that,” he conceded. “But just don’t do anything stupid like that ever again.”
“You mean stupid like saving your life?”
“Exactly,” Arthur said. Then, catching Merlin completely by surprise, he leaned forward and captured Merlin’s mouth with his.
“About time,” Gwaine whistled appreciatively.
“Told you. Mooning,” Morgana said smugly.
“Definitely a psychic connection,” said Elena with glee.
“Don’t you mean a lust connection?” Will added dryly.
“Arthur and Merlin? Really?” asked Leon obliviously.
“Yes, really,” Lance and Gwen both replied.
“Where have you been the past three days?” expressed Percy.
“Even the ghosts had it figured out,” said Elyan and Freya nodded vigorously beside him.
Merlin and Arthur barely heard any of it. They were too busy kissing each other senseless.
There were two envelopes, one addressed to the BOO-Busters and one addressed to him. He opened the one for the team first and was surprised to find a check for thirty thousand pounds. Merlin was confused. They hadn’t been able to present any kind of evidence of paranormal activity at Camelot Castle; their equipment had been damaged and all photo, video and audio evidence had been messed up. Why had the Dragon Trust still paid Merlin and his team?
Thinking it might contain a reasonable explanation, he opened the other envelope but instead found a slip of paper. In bold, defined handwriting was written: Merlin - I trust you found the half which makes you whole. It was signed “Kilgharrah”.
Hmph, he thought, and just then his mobile rang. It was Arthur. Apparently, PPI had received a check in the amount of thirty thousand pounds as well and, like Merlin, Arthur had been left a separate envelope with a note.
“What did your note say?” Merlin asked, suddenly feeling breathless.
“Some drivel about destiny and two sides of the same coin,” Arthur said. “That Kigharrah chap is definitely a nut case. I mean, what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Merlin stared down at the note in his hand and smiled. He thought he might have a pretty good idea.
“So...” Merlin said tentatively, not sure what step he was supposed to take next.
“So,” Arthur mimicked, chuckling. “How about I come over to your place and we see if we can maybe re-enact some of those dreams?”
Merlin laughed, his nervousness dissipating now that he understood Arthur was on the same page. “Yeah,” he replied more boldly. “Let’s see if we can do that.”
“Be there in fifteen,” Arthur said, quickly hanging up.
“Does being a prat ever skip a generation?” the warlock asked his king.
“Says the man whose ancestors are clearly destined never to develop any fashion sense,” the king replied dryly, the corner of his lips quirking up.
“One way or another, I’ve been saving your neck for centuries, though,” the warlock retorted smugly.
The king smiled fondly. “Yes, Merlin, you have.”
Arthur leaned in then and kissed his warlock senseless, knowing it was the most effective way to shut Merlin up, even in the afterlife.
THE
END