Fic: London, Said He (10/12)
Title: London, Said He
Rating: R
Genres: Science Fiction (Time Travel), Humour, Romance
Era: Mix of canon-era and near-future (22nd century) reincarnation era
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, one-sided Gwaine/Merlin, implied Gwaine/Percy
Wordcount: 4000 (this chapter); 45k total
Betas: percygranger, messyangel81
This really hasn't been Merlin's day. Or week. Or month, really. Seeing his best friend die in front of him was bad enough. But magicking himself into the future in order to save Arthur? Probably not as good an idea as it seemed on paper. And this future version of Gwaine will not stop hitting on him. Even in front of the future Arthur - talk about embarrassing. Especially since Merlin needs to get to know this Arthur if he's ever going to figure out how to save his.
Chapter 1: Camelot
Chapter 2: Let's Do the Time Warp Again
Chapter 3: Gwaine
Chapter 4: Getting to Know You
Chapter 5: Arthur
Chapter 6: The Glorious Life of a PA
Chapter 7: Trouble in Paradise
Chapter 8: Cooking Classes
Chapter 9: The Confession
Chapter 10: Kay
When Merlin got back to the flat, he tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
The door was locked. Of course it was. Merlin had forgotten his phone in the flat.
“Onlúcan,” Merlin tried, and a clicking noise sounded. When he reached for the door handle to see if he had successfully unlocked the door, however, it clicked again.
“Your attempt to tamper with the locking mechanism has been noted. A message has been sent to the owner.”
“Perfect,” Merlin muttered.
“Welcome, guest!” the door added. The tiny square embedded in the door’s surface displayed the same message in white text on a black background. “The owner of the flat is currently away,” the door said, and read. “Would you like to leave a message?”
“What? I’m not a guest, I live here.”
“I’m sorry,” the door replied, in a falsely bright tone. “I didn’t understand. Can you repeat that command? Say yes if you’d like to leave a message.”
“Really?” Merlin asked, of no one in particular. “Yes, fine.”
“After the beep, please leave your message.” The square lit up with a green circle with a lopsided vee inside. “Once you are done recording, press the green checkmark on the screen below, turn away from the camera, or simply maintain a silence of at least five seconds.” The door beeped.
He resisted the urge to call the door names. It wouldn’t do to hurt the talking door’s feelings.
“Your stupid door locked me out of the flat. I left my phone inside.” He sighed. “Also, Arthur ran away, so. While you’re off having a good time with Percy…” Wait. “Oh, gross! You’re getting off with Percy while I’m locked outside the flat!” Still grumbling to himself, he tapped at the green symbol.
“Thank you! To re-record your message, please tap the screen, or say ‘re-record.’” Merlin glared. “Your message will be forwarded on to the owner shortly,” the door said. “Good bye.”
“Good riddance!”
Since there was nothing for him to do but wait, Merlin sat. The carpeting was more comfortable than stone or dirt, as far as sitting went, but Merlin hadn’t worn any socks, and his feet were starting to get itchy. It was colder out in the hall than in the flat, and Merlin ran his hands up and down his arms to ward off the chill.
What felt like eons later, there had still been no sign that Gwaine had received his message. Merlin wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there; his arse was starting to go numb.
“Door,” he said. “I’d like to leave another message.”
“Welcome, guest!” said the door. “The owner of the flat is currently away, would you like to leave a message?”
Merlin scowled. “Yes.”
“After the beep, please leave your message. Once you are done recording-“
“I don’t have time for this!”
Beep.
“Pick up your damn phone, Gwaine, and let me in!” He jabbed at the green circle perhaps a bit harder than was healthy (for his finger, anyway, which throbbed unpleasantly) and continued scowling at the door.
“Thank you! To re-record your message-“
“Oh, that’s it!” Merlin yelled, and kicked the door.
“Your attempt to tamper with the locking mechanism has been noted. A message has been sent to the owner.”
“I didn’t tamper with anything!” Merlin yelled.
Great. Now he was certifiably insane. He was yelling at a bloody door. He rubbed his temple with two fingers and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his heartbeat to calm.
It didn’t sound like Gwaine was answering his messages, and his magic wouldn’t work to unlock the door. If the flat wouldn’t let him in, he’d just have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Merlin headed for the stairwell, plotting his course as he went.
Summoning a taxi had been the easy part. Merlin had simply stood at the street corner where he had gone with Gwaine and Arthur when the three of them had first met, and stuck his arm out like he’d seen Gwaine do whenever the black boxes had come close. When he’d told the man to take him to “Cafe Avalon,” he’d grunted assent, and before Merlin had known it they were pulling to a stop just down the block from Arthur’s office building, the striped awning across the street that marked Gwaine’s shop quivering in the wind.
“That’ll be eleven pounds,” the driver responded cheerfully as they pulled to a stop.
Merlin patted his pockets absently for Gwaine’s credit card before he remembered. “Oh, bloody hell. I got locked out of my flat, and it looks like I left my wallet at home.”
The taxi driver rolled his eyes. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, biting at his lip. “I could give you my mobile number, maybe? I’m good for it, I swear, I just don’t have any way to pay you right now.”
“Name and number,” the man practically growled at him.
“George Fairbanks,” Merlin said, which was the name on Gwaine’s credit card. He still hadn’t gotten Gwaine to explain that one. He rattled off Gwaine’s mobile number and the man tapped it into a small screen in the front.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the man said, “The charge’s gone through,” but he sounded less than pleased, so Merlin got out of the cab quickly. He could hear the driver muttering as he pulled away from the kerb.
Merlin trudged along the path he’d taken with Kay the first time he’d ever been to Gwaine’s cafe. The leaves were changing colours now, gold and red, and everything felt less alien than the first time he’d walked along. It almost felt comforting by now, to see the regularly planted trees next to the pavement, to hear the rumble of traffic rolling past.
When he got to the camp, there were a few people curled up in sleeping bags - Tasha, the blue-haired girl, was one - and clustered around the fire were a few more people. Two were young men he didn’t recognise, and the third was Kay, roasting a hot dog on a stick.
“Hey,” Merlin said, sucking in a great lungful of the cool autumn air.
Kay glanced over but didn’t lower his stick. “You by yourself? Where’s Gwaine?”
Merlin shook his head as he dropped onto an unoccupied pile of blankets near the fire. “He’s at Percy’s. I got locked out of the flat.”
Kay sighed. “Already?”
Merlin squinted. “What do you mean, already?”
“Nothing. Want a hot dog?”
“No, I-“
“Your loss.”
Kay walked out of sight, already chewing on the end of his hot dog, without sparing a second glance to look back at Merlin.
Merlin just kicked off his shoes and snuggled further into the blankets. At least he was warm.
Merlin was roused by a finger poking him in the collarbone. “It’s for you,” Kay said, and thrust a mobile at him.
“Hey mate,” Gwaine’s voice echoed in his ear, sounding like it had been pounded flat and smushed back into proper shape again. There was something just a bit off about it. “Kay told me you spent the night with him. I can’t believe you forgot your phone.” He snickered.
“Your door is stupid,” Merlin replied, rubbing his tongue up against the roof of his mouth to rub the awful taste away.
“When I woke up I had some entertaining voicemails. Oh, and, by the way? Thanks for interrupting my evening. Four times.”
“Not like you bothered to actually respond.”
“I was busy!”
Merlin made a gagging sound. “Spare me the details.”
Gwaine snorted, and there was the sound of metal scraping against something. Merlin had no idea what would produce that kind of sound. A knife?
“What are you doing?” he asked, blinking against the morning sunlight. He snuggled deeper into his blanket cocoon.
“Breakfast,” Gwaine said. “I’m off to work in a bit. I’ll see you tonight?”
“I guess,” Merlin said.
“I can hear you pouting,” Gwaine said with a laugh. “Come over to the cafe if you get bored.” A click sounded, and the phone was silent, so Merlin let it drop onto the pillow.
Pillow? Merlin hadn’t remembered any pillows from last night. He dismissed the thought and let his eyes drift shut.
The sun was higher in the sky when a rough shake woke him for the second time that morning. “Where’d you put it?”
“Put what?” Merlin asked, trying and failing to hold in his yawn.
“My phone.” Kay was staring at the space above Merlin’s head, where his wrists overlapped as he stretched.
“I just set it down.” Merlin rooted around in the blankets until he located the black square. It was similar to his and Gwaine’s, but not exactly the same - the edges were rounder and there was a dark blue skin on one side, bumpy and slightly spongy to the touch. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Kay grabbed his phone and raised himself to his feet, making as if to leave.
Something wasn’t adding up. There had always been something familiar about Kay, tugging at Merlin, a niggling itch just under his skin.
“Why did you say you were my uncle?” Merlin blurted, propping himself up to a sitting position.
Kay stopped mid-stride and turned back to face Merlin, looking down at the mess of blankets. He paused for a long moment. “You needed a place to stay. Gwaine trusts me.”
Merlin shook his head. “You wouldn’t need to say you were related to me. Gwaine’s a sucker for a pretty face.”
Kay just shrugged and turned back to the metal can that normally housed the fire, now unlit.
Merlin huffed a sigh and threw off his blankets. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“No, you’re not,” Kay snapped.
“What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, it’s clearly not nothing, I just-“
“Drop it. All right? Just drop it.” His back was turned to Merlin, so he couldn’t see his face, but suddenly Merlin could picture it. His voice had the same dark quality Merlin himself had used after his father’s death.
Kay moved out of Merlin’s line of sight, so Merlin let his eyes fall shut and his chin rest on his knees. They were both silent for a while, the hiss of electronics and the rumble of traffic filling the uneasy space between them.
“Hot dog?” Merlin straightened and opened his eyes to see Kay waving a metal stick, which was piercing a hot dog, in Merlin’s direction. “I’m going to eat it if you won’t.”
Merlin waited until Kay was looking straight at him, his irises visible, before saying, “Leoht.” The ball of light flickered into being in his palm, then was snuffed. Kay’s eyes shone gold in the instant that it was extinguished.
“You!” Merlin said, scrambling to his feet, and Kay flinched as the golden light in his eyes faded back to blue. “You’re the one who’s been messing with my magic!”
“It’s not just your magic!” Kay snapped.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Merlin asked.
“Nothing.” Kay glanced around the camp, but the two of them were alone at the moment. Merlin watched as the tension visibly bled out of his shoulders.
“You have magic.”
“And you should stop using it willy nilly whenever it catches your fancy!” Kay snapped. “Magic is not a toy, and using it’s just as likely to get you killed here as in Camelot.”
“How did you know I’m from Camelot? Did you kill Arthur?” Merlin blurted. “Is that why you’re here, why you found me? Are you trying to keep me from going back to save him?”
“Oh my God,” Kay said, eyes widening. “I’d almost forgotten that you were an idiot.”
“Oi!” Merlin frowned. “Wait, what do you mean, were?”
Kay shook his head and started nibbling on the skewered hot dog.
“Who are you?” Merlin asked.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What’s the right question, then?”
“You tell me.” Kay took a large bite, chewing thoughtfully, as he looked over at Merlin.
“I don’t have time for this!” Merlin shouted.
“No, of course not,” Kay said, his voice quiet. “You don’t have the time for any of this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why are you still here? Still in London? It’s been weeks.”
Merlin drew further into himself, tucking his arms across his chest. “I can’t go back yet.”
“Why not?” Kay raised an eyebrow, delicately plucking the last bit of hot dog from the skewer and popping it in his mouth. After a long moment of silence, he turned away and started walking towards the alley entrance.
“Because,” Merlin blurted, and Kay stopped mid-stride, turning back to look at Merlin. “I… don’t know how to save him.”
Kay’s voice was quiet, when he finally spoke. “That’s just because you don’t want to save him.”
“That’s ridiculous! Of course I want to save him!”
“No, you don’t.”
“I-“
“You want to stay here,” Kay said, “with him, and live out all your little fantasies. Bake cakes in Gwaine’s little shop and go on dates and not have to worry about saving the world.”
Suddenly, Merlin could picture it. Merlin could stay here, with this Arthur. Maybe they would date, and get to know one another. Merlin could finish the cooking classes, and get a job at Gwaine’s cafe, baking scones and muffins and serving coffee to customers.
In the morning, Merlin would wake up next to Arthur, who would whine about being roused before dawn; Merlin would go into the kitchen and bake muffins from the ingredients in Arthur’s pantry. They would drive to work together, and Arthur would come to the cafe for lunch, ranting about Morgana and calling Merlin an idiot. Gwaine would tease them when they left together at half seven, and Arthur would throw a muffin at his head and Merlin would burst out laughing. They would drive home and order a takeaway, and sit on the sofa watching Game of Thrones and Arthur would ask Merlin whether dragons really existed.
“So what if I do?”
Even as he said it, he knew it didn’t matter.
Kay just shook his head. “You don’t belong here.”
“I could.”
“Could you?”
Merlin was silent, watching as Kay turned back to the fire and pierced a new hot dog with the metal skewer.
“This one’s for you,” Kay noted.
“And here I was thinking you spent all day cooking and eating hot dogs.”
Kay rolled his eyes.
They were silent for a few more moments as Kay set the hot dog, its skin a shiny dark brown with patches of black char, on the rim of the can, snuffing out the fire with a hand wave and a flash of golden irises.
“Why are you doing this?” Merlin asked, finally.
Kay sighed noisily. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Merlin frowned. What was he missing? There was something nagging at the edge of his consciousness; if he could just pin it down…
“Look, I’m going to make this simple,” Kay said. “Do you want to go back to Camelot, or not?”
Merlin blinked. Kay was crossing his arms across his chest, mirroring the position that Merlin had taken just minutes before. His eyebrow was furrowed and he glared back at Merlin with a determined set to his mouth. The stance, the expression, felt utterly natural; but more than that, those eyes, in that particular shade of blue, were something Merlin had seen many times in a mirror.
“Oh!” Merlin shouted, barely conscious of fllailing his arms about frantically. “You’re me! You - wait, why are you so old?”
Kay had buried his head in his hands in the midst of Merlin’s flailing, and Merlin was sure that, if he could see the tips of Kay’s ears underneath that fuzzy hat, they would be tinted red. He was muttering, “I can’t have been this oblivious. Please tell me I wasn’t this stupid.”
“Kay!” Merlin said, latching his fingers around Kay’s wrists to pull them away from his face. “You were absolutely this stupid.”
Kay laughed. “I’m sorry I was so cross earlier. You don’t know how hard it’s been pretending I’m… not you.”
Merlin smiled back. “It wouldn’t do me any good if I were to stay angry.”
“Well, they say the first step in forgiveness is learning to forgive yourself.”
Merlin groaned. “How long have you been waiting to say that? I bet you’ve got loads of terrible jokes stored up, haven’t you?”
“Takes one to know one!” Kay said cheerfully, and picked up the hot dog by the skewer. “Alternatively, that’s the pot, calling the kettle black.” He handed the skewer to Merlin. “Hold this.”
“Why hot dogs?” Merlin asked. They were walking along the Thames, the sun beating down over their heads.
Kay shrugged. “They’re easy enough to conjure and cook. For some reason, no one questions where the hot dogs come from. It’s not as if I have a refrigerator,” he scoffed.
“Why not, I don’t know, a bowl of soup, or something?”
Kay lifted an eyebrow. “Do you think a bowl of soup would heat well over a fire in a rubbish bin?”
Merlin looked down at his half-eaten hot dog. “Point taken.”
They had, for the most part, ignored the varying elephants in the room: the ultimate cause of Arthur’s death in Camelot; why Kay had decided to live among the homeless instead of magicking himself young and courting the current Arthur; how Kay had consistently, frustratingly, sabotaged every attempt Merlin made to use magic. Instead, they had mostly talked about Gwaine’s cafe, to Merlin’s surprise. Kay had helped Gwaine secure the initial loan, and regularly dropped by to chat and try the new pastry flavours.
Kay’s shoulders were stiff and Merlin could see a faint limp in his left leg. He remembered all the aches and pains from his stint as Dragoon the Great, and winced. “Why don’t you magic yourself young again?”
Kay froze mid-step.
“Sorry, have you not found a way to go back?” It had taken him a special potion to regain his youth, and that had only been because it was reversing the aging spell he’d cast in the first place. He supposed once you grew old naturally, you were just… old.
The side of Kay’s mouth twitched in a smile. “No, it’s… I have a better handle on my magic these days.” He sighed and resumed his brisk pace, and Merlin hurried to catch up. “That’s not the problem. I just… I like being old.”
Merlin frowned. “You like it? Why?”
Kay avoided Merlin’s gaze. “People don’t notice an old homeless man. Like this, I’m practically invisible.” He gestured to a group of female tourists sneaking unsubtle glances at the two of them. “You, on the other hand, attract attention.”
“What?” Merlin looked down at himself. He was still wearing the t-shirt and jeans from yesterday, and his regular trainers (Kay had thoughtfully provided a spare pair of socks so Merlin’s feet wouldn’t itch). “Why? I’m not obvious, am I?”
Kay laughed. “They think you’re fit.”
Merlin felt the tips of his ears go hot. “Do not!”
“Do so.” He grinned. “Once you stop mooning over Arthur, you’ll see just how many people fancy you.”
Merlin blinked. “I don’t want to stop mooning over Arthur.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“I know,” Kay said. “So have you made up your mind, yet?”
Merlin frowned. “About mooning over Arthur? I suppose I’ll just keep mooning.”
Kay rolled his eyes and cuffed Merlin upside the head. “On whether you’re going back to Camelot, idiot.”
“You can’t call me an idiot! I’m you!”
“I’m allowed to call myself an idiot,” Kay retorted. “Stop dodging the question.”
When he saw Merlin wasn’t going to answer anytime soon, Kay leant back against the metal railing separating them from the river, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He tapped the box against his palm, grabbing a single cigarette from the pack.
“Nasty habit, I know,” he said, “but it’s not as if I can die of lung cancer.” He pulled a lighter from his other pocket and lit up the cigarette.
Merlin turned towards the river as Kay smoked, leaning against the metal railing and looking down at the water. He loved so many things about this place. But he missed home, too, like a persistent toothache. “I’m ready, I think.”
Kay took a long drag on his cigarette. With his other hand, he pulled a stiff piece of parchment from his coat pocket, folded with neat creases and yellowed with age. “I had to rewrite it a few times over the years, but I kept it with me.” He handed it to Merlin.
Merlin stared down at the paper as he unfolded it carefully. It was covered in black ink, curling letters written in Old English.
“This is… the spell I used to come here?”
Kay just nodded, looking out at the river with a soft smile on his face.
“So I just, read this out, and I go home?”
Kay blinked. “No. It’s not… It doesn’t work on the caster.” He twisted to face Merlin. “I thought you knew that.”
“It doesn’t? But, I’ve used it twice, so far. Both times, it transported me.”
Kay shook his head. He took one finger and tapped it against the black swirls. “It transports a single target. This is important. Whatever magic you thought you used to bring yourself here, to this time… you have to do once you get back.”
Merlin frowned. The first time he had cast it, he had been in the dungeons, and he couldn’t remember successfully casting the spell. He remembered saying it, over and over, and then falling into an exhausted slumber, but… “So I have to go back and cast this? Why not just… let it be? Go back, don’t cast any magic. None of my other selves could have cast it without my help, right?”
Kay sighed, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and grinding it with his heel. “Do you really want things to go differently?”
“What do you mean?”
Kay waved a hand vaguely towards the buildings across the street. “If you had never travelled, you would never have seen this. Seen London. Seen that life doesn’t end with Arthur’s death.”
Merlin swallowed.
“Look,” Kay added, “Arthur’s not meant to die yet. It’s not the Legend of King Arthur for nothing.” He tilted his head to view Merlin from narrowed eyes. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t die, someday.”
“And I have to keep on living?”
Kay pursed his lips. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter.”
“Fine,” said Merlin. “So, I go back, I make sure I get sent to the future after I witness Arthur’s death, and I make sure I get from the prison cell to Arthur’s chambers to see his death in the first place.” Merlin blinked. “That means… you’re the one to send me back, aren’t you?”
Kay’s face dimpled as he smiled, blinding and bright, and Merlin felt a prickle at the back of his neck. So he can still smile, he thought. I almost thought he’d forgotten how. He was so thrown by the thought that he barely heard Kay chanting the beginnings of a complicated spell.
“Edhwierft,” Kay said, his eyes flashing gold. Merlin felt a familiar pull in his stomach, and the sky faded into blackness.
Chapter 11: Back to Camelot
Rating: R
Genres: Science Fiction (Time Travel), Humour, Romance
Era: Mix of canon-era and near-future (22nd century) reincarnation era
Pairings: Merlin/Arthur, one-sided Gwaine/Merlin, implied Gwaine/Percy
Wordcount: 4000 (this chapter); 45k total
Betas: percygranger, messyangel81
This really hasn't been Merlin's day. Or week. Or month, really. Seeing his best friend die in front of him was bad enough. But magicking himself into the future in order to save Arthur? Probably not as good an idea as it seemed on paper. And this future version of Gwaine will not stop hitting on him. Even in front of the future Arthur - talk about embarrassing. Especially since Merlin needs to get to know this Arthur if he's ever going to figure out how to save his.
Chapter 1: Camelot
Chapter 2: Let's Do the Time Warp Again
Chapter 3: Gwaine
Chapter 4: Getting to Know You
Chapter 5: Arthur
Chapter 6: The Glorious Life of a PA
Chapter 7: Trouble in Paradise
Chapter 8: Cooking Classes
Chapter 9: The Confession
Chapter 10: Kay
When Merlin got back to the flat, he tried opening the door, but it wouldn’t budge.
The door was locked. Of course it was. Merlin had forgotten his phone in the flat.
“Onlúcan,” Merlin tried, and a clicking noise sounded. When he reached for the door handle to see if he had successfully unlocked the door, however, it clicked again.
“Your attempt to tamper with the locking mechanism has been noted. A message has been sent to the owner.”
“Perfect,” Merlin muttered.
“Welcome, guest!” the door added. The tiny square embedded in the door’s surface displayed the same message in white text on a black background. “The owner of the flat is currently away,” the door said, and read. “Would you like to leave a message?”
“What? I’m not a guest, I live here.”
“I’m sorry,” the door replied, in a falsely bright tone. “I didn’t understand. Can you repeat that command? Say yes if you’d like to leave a message.”
“Really?” Merlin asked, of no one in particular. “Yes, fine.”
“After the beep, please leave your message.” The square lit up with a green circle with a lopsided vee inside. “Once you are done recording, press the green checkmark on the screen below, turn away from the camera, or simply maintain a silence of at least five seconds.” The door beeped.
He resisted the urge to call the door names. It wouldn’t do to hurt the talking door’s feelings.
“Your stupid door locked me out of the flat. I left my phone inside.” He sighed. “Also, Arthur ran away, so. While you’re off having a good time with Percy…” Wait. “Oh, gross! You’re getting off with Percy while I’m locked outside the flat!” Still grumbling to himself, he tapped at the green symbol.
“Thank you! To re-record your message, please tap the screen, or say ‘re-record.’” Merlin glared. “Your message will be forwarded on to the owner shortly,” the door said. “Good bye.”
“Good riddance!”
Since there was nothing for him to do but wait, Merlin sat. The carpeting was more comfortable than stone or dirt, as far as sitting went, but Merlin hadn’t worn any socks, and his feet were starting to get itchy. It was colder out in the hall than in the flat, and Merlin ran his hands up and down his arms to ward off the chill.
What felt like eons later, there had still been no sign that Gwaine had received his message. Merlin wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting there; his arse was starting to go numb.
“Door,” he said. “I’d like to leave another message.”
“Welcome, guest!” said the door. “The owner of the flat is currently away, would you like to leave a message?”
Merlin scowled. “Yes.”
“After the beep, please leave your message. Once you are done recording-“
“I don’t have time for this!”
Beep.
“Pick up your damn phone, Gwaine, and let me in!” He jabbed at the green circle perhaps a bit harder than was healthy (for his finger, anyway, which throbbed unpleasantly) and continued scowling at the door.
“Thank you! To re-record your message-“
“Oh, that’s it!” Merlin yelled, and kicked the door.
“Your attempt to tamper with the locking mechanism has been noted. A message has been sent to the owner.”
“I didn’t tamper with anything!” Merlin yelled.
Great. Now he was certifiably insane. He was yelling at a bloody door. He rubbed his temple with two fingers and squeezed his eyes shut, willing his heartbeat to calm.
It didn’t sound like Gwaine was answering his messages, and his magic wouldn’t work to unlock the door. If the flat wouldn’t let him in, he’d just have to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Merlin headed for the stairwell, plotting his course as he went.
Summoning a taxi had been the easy part. Merlin had simply stood at the street corner where he had gone with Gwaine and Arthur when the three of them had first met, and stuck his arm out like he’d seen Gwaine do whenever the black boxes had come close. When he’d told the man to take him to “Cafe Avalon,” he’d grunted assent, and before Merlin had known it they were pulling to a stop just down the block from Arthur’s office building, the striped awning across the street that marked Gwaine’s shop quivering in the wind.
“That’ll be eleven pounds,” the driver responded cheerfully as they pulled to a stop.
Merlin patted his pockets absently for Gwaine’s credit card before he remembered. “Oh, bloody hell. I got locked out of my flat, and it looks like I left my wallet at home.”
The taxi driver rolled his eyes. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said, biting at his lip. “I could give you my mobile number, maybe? I’m good for it, I swear, I just don’t have any way to pay you right now.”
“Name and number,” the man practically growled at him.
“George Fairbanks,” Merlin said, which was the name on Gwaine’s credit card. He still hadn’t gotten Gwaine to explain that one. He rattled off Gwaine’s mobile number and the man tapped it into a small screen in the front.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, the man said, “The charge’s gone through,” but he sounded less than pleased, so Merlin got out of the cab quickly. He could hear the driver muttering as he pulled away from the kerb.
Merlin trudged along the path he’d taken with Kay the first time he’d ever been to Gwaine’s cafe. The leaves were changing colours now, gold and red, and everything felt less alien than the first time he’d walked along. It almost felt comforting by now, to see the regularly planted trees next to the pavement, to hear the rumble of traffic rolling past.
When he got to the camp, there were a few people curled up in sleeping bags - Tasha, the blue-haired girl, was one - and clustered around the fire were a few more people. Two were young men he didn’t recognise, and the third was Kay, roasting a hot dog on a stick.
“Hey,” Merlin said, sucking in a great lungful of the cool autumn air.
Kay glanced over but didn’t lower his stick. “You by yourself? Where’s Gwaine?”
Merlin shook his head as he dropped onto an unoccupied pile of blankets near the fire. “He’s at Percy’s. I got locked out of the flat.”
Kay sighed. “Already?”
Merlin squinted. “What do you mean, already?”
“Nothing. Want a hot dog?”
“No, I-“
“Your loss.”
Kay walked out of sight, already chewing on the end of his hot dog, without sparing a second glance to look back at Merlin.
Merlin just kicked off his shoes and snuggled further into the blankets. At least he was warm.
Merlin was roused by a finger poking him in the collarbone. “It’s for you,” Kay said, and thrust a mobile at him.
“Hey mate,” Gwaine’s voice echoed in his ear, sounding like it had been pounded flat and smushed back into proper shape again. There was something just a bit off about it. “Kay told me you spent the night with him. I can’t believe you forgot your phone.” He snickered.
“Your door is stupid,” Merlin replied, rubbing his tongue up against the roof of his mouth to rub the awful taste away.
“When I woke up I had some entertaining voicemails. Oh, and, by the way? Thanks for interrupting my evening. Four times.”
“Not like you bothered to actually respond.”
“I was busy!”
Merlin made a gagging sound. “Spare me the details.”
Gwaine snorted, and there was the sound of metal scraping against something. Merlin had no idea what would produce that kind of sound. A knife?
“What are you doing?” he asked, blinking against the morning sunlight. He snuggled deeper into his blanket cocoon.
“Breakfast,” Gwaine said. “I’m off to work in a bit. I’ll see you tonight?”
“I guess,” Merlin said.
“I can hear you pouting,” Gwaine said with a laugh. “Come over to the cafe if you get bored.” A click sounded, and the phone was silent, so Merlin let it drop onto the pillow.
Pillow? Merlin hadn’t remembered any pillows from last night. He dismissed the thought and let his eyes drift shut.
The sun was higher in the sky when a rough shake woke him for the second time that morning. “Where’d you put it?”
“Put what?” Merlin asked, trying and failing to hold in his yawn.
“My phone.” Kay was staring at the space above Merlin’s head, where his wrists overlapped as he stretched.
“I just set it down.” Merlin rooted around in the blankets until he located the black square. It was similar to his and Gwaine’s, but not exactly the same - the edges were rounder and there was a dark blue skin on one side, bumpy and slightly spongy to the touch. “Here.”
“Thanks.” Kay grabbed his phone and raised himself to his feet, making as if to leave.
Something wasn’t adding up. There had always been something familiar about Kay, tugging at Merlin, a niggling itch just under his skin.
“Why did you say you were my uncle?” Merlin blurted, propping himself up to a sitting position.
Kay stopped mid-stride and turned back to face Merlin, looking down at the mess of blankets. He paused for a long moment. “You needed a place to stay. Gwaine trusts me.”
Merlin shook his head. “You wouldn’t need to say you were related to me. Gwaine’s a sucker for a pretty face.”
Kay just shrugged and turned back to the metal can that normally housed the fire, now unlit.
Merlin huffed a sigh and threw off his blankets. “Sorry I brought it up.”
“No, you’re not,” Kay snapped.
“What’s your problem?”
“Nothing.”
“Look, it’s clearly not nothing, I just-“
“Drop it. All right? Just drop it.” His back was turned to Merlin, so he couldn’t see his face, but suddenly Merlin could picture it. His voice had the same dark quality Merlin himself had used after his father’s death.
Kay moved out of Merlin’s line of sight, so Merlin let his eyes fall shut and his chin rest on his knees. They were both silent for a while, the hiss of electronics and the rumble of traffic filling the uneasy space between them.
“Hot dog?” Merlin straightened and opened his eyes to see Kay waving a metal stick, which was piercing a hot dog, in Merlin’s direction. “I’m going to eat it if you won’t.”
Merlin waited until Kay was looking straight at him, his irises visible, before saying, “Leoht.” The ball of light flickered into being in his palm, then was snuffed. Kay’s eyes shone gold in the instant that it was extinguished.
“You!” Merlin said, scrambling to his feet, and Kay flinched as the golden light in his eyes faded back to blue. “You’re the one who’s been messing with my magic!”
“It’s not just your magic!” Kay snapped.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Merlin asked.
“Nothing.” Kay glanced around the camp, but the two of them were alone at the moment. Merlin watched as the tension visibly bled out of his shoulders.
“You have magic.”
“And you should stop using it willy nilly whenever it catches your fancy!” Kay snapped. “Magic is not a toy, and using it’s just as likely to get you killed here as in Camelot.”
“How did you know I’m from Camelot? Did you kill Arthur?” Merlin blurted. “Is that why you’re here, why you found me? Are you trying to keep me from going back to save him?”
“Oh my God,” Kay said, eyes widening. “I’d almost forgotten that you were an idiot.”
“Oi!” Merlin frowned. “Wait, what do you mean, were?”
Kay shook his head and started nibbling on the skewered hot dog.
“Who are you?” Merlin asked.
“You’re asking the wrong question.”
“What’s the right question, then?”
“You tell me.” Kay took a large bite, chewing thoughtfully, as he looked over at Merlin.
“I don’t have time for this!” Merlin shouted.
“No, of course not,” Kay said, his voice quiet. “You don’t have the time for any of this.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Why are you still here? Still in London? It’s been weeks.”
Merlin drew further into himself, tucking his arms across his chest. “I can’t go back yet.”
“Why not?” Kay raised an eyebrow, delicately plucking the last bit of hot dog from the skewer and popping it in his mouth. After a long moment of silence, he turned away and started walking towards the alley entrance.
“Because,” Merlin blurted, and Kay stopped mid-stride, turning back to look at Merlin. “I… don’t know how to save him.”
Kay’s voice was quiet, when he finally spoke. “That’s just because you don’t want to save him.”
“That’s ridiculous! Of course I want to save him!”
“No, you don’t.”
“I-“
“You want to stay here,” Kay said, “with him, and live out all your little fantasies. Bake cakes in Gwaine’s little shop and go on dates and not have to worry about saving the world.”
Suddenly, Merlin could picture it. Merlin could stay here, with this Arthur. Maybe they would date, and get to know one another. Merlin could finish the cooking classes, and get a job at Gwaine’s cafe, baking scones and muffins and serving coffee to customers.
In the morning, Merlin would wake up next to Arthur, who would whine about being roused before dawn; Merlin would go into the kitchen and bake muffins from the ingredients in Arthur’s pantry. They would drive to work together, and Arthur would come to the cafe for lunch, ranting about Morgana and calling Merlin an idiot. Gwaine would tease them when they left together at half seven, and Arthur would throw a muffin at his head and Merlin would burst out laughing. They would drive home and order a takeaway, and sit on the sofa watching Game of Thrones and Arthur would ask Merlin whether dragons really existed.
“So what if I do?”
Even as he said it, he knew it didn’t matter.
Kay just shook his head. “You don’t belong here.”
“I could.”
“Could you?”
Merlin was silent, watching as Kay turned back to the fire and pierced a new hot dog with the metal skewer.
“This one’s for you,” Kay noted.
“And here I was thinking you spent all day cooking and eating hot dogs.”
Kay rolled his eyes.
They were silent for a few more moments as Kay set the hot dog, its skin a shiny dark brown with patches of black char, on the rim of the can, snuffing out the fire with a hand wave and a flash of golden irises.
“Why are you doing this?” Merlin asked, finally.
Kay sighed noisily. “You still don’t get it, do you?”
Merlin frowned. What was he missing? There was something nagging at the edge of his consciousness; if he could just pin it down…
“Look, I’m going to make this simple,” Kay said. “Do you want to go back to Camelot, or not?”
Merlin blinked. Kay was crossing his arms across his chest, mirroring the position that Merlin had taken just minutes before. His eyebrow was furrowed and he glared back at Merlin with a determined set to his mouth. The stance, the expression, felt utterly natural; but more than that, those eyes, in that particular shade of blue, were something Merlin had seen many times in a mirror.
“Oh!” Merlin shouted, barely conscious of fllailing his arms about frantically. “You’re me! You - wait, why are you so old?”
Kay had buried his head in his hands in the midst of Merlin’s flailing, and Merlin was sure that, if he could see the tips of Kay’s ears underneath that fuzzy hat, they would be tinted red. He was muttering, “I can’t have been this oblivious. Please tell me I wasn’t this stupid.”
“Kay!” Merlin said, latching his fingers around Kay’s wrists to pull them away from his face. “You were absolutely this stupid.”
Kay laughed. “I’m sorry I was so cross earlier. You don’t know how hard it’s been pretending I’m… not you.”
Merlin smiled back. “It wouldn’t do me any good if I were to stay angry.”
“Well, they say the first step in forgiveness is learning to forgive yourself.”
Merlin groaned. “How long have you been waiting to say that? I bet you’ve got loads of terrible jokes stored up, haven’t you?”
“Takes one to know one!” Kay said cheerfully, and picked up the hot dog by the skewer. “Alternatively, that’s the pot, calling the kettle black.” He handed the skewer to Merlin. “Hold this.”
“Why hot dogs?” Merlin asked. They were walking along the Thames, the sun beating down over their heads.
Kay shrugged. “They’re easy enough to conjure and cook. For some reason, no one questions where the hot dogs come from. It’s not as if I have a refrigerator,” he scoffed.
“Why not, I don’t know, a bowl of soup, or something?”
Kay lifted an eyebrow. “Do you think a bowl of soup would heat well over a fire in a rubbish bin?”
Merlin looked down at his half-eaten hot dog. “Point taken.”
They had, for the most part, ignored the varying elephants in the room: the ultimate cause of Arthur’s death in Camelot; why Kay had decided to live among the homeless instead of magicking himself young and courting the current Arthur; how Kay had consistently, frustratingly, sabotaged every attempt Merlin made to use magic. Instead, they had mostly talked about Gwaine’s cafe, to Merlin’s surprise. Kay had helped Gwaine secure the initial loan, and regularly dropped by to chat and try the new pastry flavours.
Kay’s shoulders were stiff and Merlin could see a faint limp in his left leg. He remembered all the aches and pains from his stint as Dragoon the Great, and winced. “Why don’t you magic yourself young again?”
Kay froze mid-step.
“Sorry, have you not found a way to go back?” It had taken him a special potion to regain his youth, and that had only been because it was reversing the aging spell he’d cast in the first place. He supposed once you grew old naturally, you were just… old.
The side of Kay’s mouth twitched in a smile. “No, it’s… I have a better handle on my magic these days.” He sighed and resumed his brisk pace, and Merlin hurried to catch up. “That’s not the problem. I just… I like being old.”
Merlin frowned. “You like it? Why?”
Kay avoided Merlin’s gaze. “People don’t notice an old homeless man. Like this, I’m practically invisible.” He gestured to a group of female tourists sneaking unsubtle glances at the two of them. “You, on the other hand, attract attention.”
“What?” Merlin looked down at himself. He was still wearing the t-shirt and jeans from yesterday, and his regular trainers (Kay had thoughtfully provided a spare pair of socks so Merlin’s feet wouldn’t itch). “Why? I’m not obvious, am I?”
Kay laughed. “They think you’re fit.”
Merlin felt the tips of his ears go hot. “Do not!”
“Do so.” He grinned. “Once you stop mooning over Arthur, you’ll see just how many people fancy you.”
Merlin blinked. “I don’t want to stop mooning over Arthur.”
They were both silent for a moment.
“I know,” Kay said. “So have you made up your mind, yet?”
Merlin frowned. “About mooning over Arthur? I suppose I’ll just keep mooning.”
Kay rolled his eyes and cuffed Merlin upside the head. “On whether you’re going back to Camelot, idiot.”
“You can’t call me an idiot! I’m you!”
“I’m allowed to call myself an idiot,” Kay retorted. “Stop dodging the question.”
When he saw Merlin wasn’t going to answer anytime soon, Kay leant back against the metal railing separating them from the river, fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket. He tapped the box against his palm, grabbing a single cigarette from the pack.
“Nasty habit, I know,” he said, “but it’s not as if I can die of lung cancer.” He pulled a lighter from his other pocket and lit up the cigarette.
Merlin turned towards the river as Kay smoked, leaning against the metal railing and looking down at the water. He loved so many things about this place. But he missed home, too, like a persistent toothache. “I’m ready, I think.”
Kay took a long drag on his cigarette. With his other hand, he pulled a stiff piece of parchment from his coat pocket, folded with neat creases and yellowed with age. “I had to rewrite it a few times over the years, but I kept it with me.” He handed it to Merlin.
Merlin stared down at the paper as he unfolded it carefully. It was covered in black ink, curling letters written in Old English.
“This is… the spell I used to come here?”
Kay just nodded, looking out at the river with a soft smile on his face.
“So I just, read this out, and I go home?”
Kay blinked. “No. It’s not… It doesn’t work on the caster.” He twisted to face Merlin. “I thought you knew that.”
“It doesn’t? But, I’ve used it twice, so far. Both times, it transported me.”
Kay shook his head. He took one finger and tapped it against the black swirls. “It transports a single target. This is important. Whatever magic you thought you used to bring yourself here, to this time… you have to do once you get back.”
Merlin frowned. The first time he had cast it, he had been in the dungeons, and he couldn’t remember successfully casting the spell. He remembered saying it, over and over, and then falling into an exhausted slumber, but… “So I have to go back and cast this? Why not just… let it be? Go back, don’t cast any magic. None of my other selves could have cast it without my help, right?”
Kay sighed, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and grinding it with his heel. “Do you really want things to go differently?”
“What do you mean?”
Kay waved a hand vaguely towards the buildings across the street. “If you had never travelled, you would never have seen this. Seen London. Seen that life doesn’t end with Arthur’s death.”
Merlin swallowed.
“Look,” Kay added, “Arthur’s not meant to die yet. It’s not the Legend of King Arthur for nothing.” He tilted his head to view Merlin from narrowed eyes. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t die, someday.”
“And I have to keep on living?”
Kay pursed his lips. “You don’t really have a choice in the matter.”
“Fine,” said Merlin. “So, I go back, I make sure I get sent to the future after I witness Arthur’s death, and I make sure I get from the prison cell to Arthur’s chambers to see his death in the first place.” Merlin blinked. “That means… you’re the one to send me back, aren’t you?”
Kay’s face dimpled as he smiled, blinding and bright, and Merlin felt a prickle at the back of his neck. So he can still smile, he thought. I almost thought he’d forgotten how. He was so thrown by the thought that he barely heard Kay chanting the beginnings of a complicated spell.
“Edhwierft,” Kay said, his eyes flashing gold. Merlin felt a familiar pull in his stomach, and the sky faded into blackness.
Chapter 11: Back to Camelot