Cups and Saucerers - Chapter 16 of ?
Previous Chapter
Chapter Summary:
Merlin finds out what is the matter with Guy, who tells him that there are some things that even Merlin can't and shouldn't try to fix. But there's no time to reflect when the Prime Minister pays them a visit.
~#~
Merlin fidgeted and looked away. When he looked back, Guy could see a sudden hope flash across his features. He sighed. He’d have to squash that, and he hated having to do it, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Guy,” said Merlin, slowly, “maybe with the time-travel spell I could…”
“No!” said Guy firmly. “My time is coming. It is how it is. I don’t want you to change anything, do you hear me Merlin?” He enunciated every word clearly. “When this is over, when I am gone, you are not to try to travel in time any more, and I absolutely forbid you to try to change anything about my condition, or to time-travel on my account. My life will come to an end soon, it is my allotted time, and I am content. You do not have the right to take that from me.”
~#~
Later that evening - and also ten years later
Cups and Saucerers tea shop, London. Thursday 31st July, 2014. 9.24pm
Merlin’s frustration showed in his quick movements, his agitation revealed by his clumsiness. He spilt the tea, apologising and mopping, passing hands across tired eyes. He kept up a constant chatter as he mopped.
“I am sure it was Moore who killed Arthur and modified Morgana’s memories,” he said, dabbing a sponge over the intricate dragon embroidery on the duvet cover. “I couldn’t read him at all, he has magic, I’m sure of it. And his memory of the ancient past has returned in this timeline. I don’t know whether it returned in the timeline we are trying to prevent. I am hoping that I’ve already set the course of time on to a different path. What do you think, Guy? Guy?”
Guy was gasping a little with pain when Merlin sat on the bed, jarring his sore head. He felt a bit faint, and must have tuned out for a second.
“Guy? Are you all right?”
When Guy looked up again, allowing the pain to show in his eyes, Merlin was still looking at him, really looking.
“Guy?” Merlin asked again, voice distant.
His eyes flashed gold for a moment. As Guy watched, a gradual and terrible understanding crept across Merlin’s features; his jaw slackened, his eyes moistened and his lip trembled slightly.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head.
Guy was grateful to Merlin’s intuition for sparing him the indecision about when to break the news. “Yes, Merlin, I am afraid so,” he said, grave though he already felt unburdened. “My time is soon coming to an end.”
Merlin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Tears threatened to spill over his lashes.
“How long?” he said, in a low, shaky voice.
“About two months,” said Guy. “Maybe three if I’m lucky. Inoperable brain tumour. I’ve decided not to have any treatment. My oncologist has advised me that chemotherapy would probably not succeed, it would just make me feel really ill. I am looking at palliative care options and I have requested a hospice place.”
Merlin fidgeted and looked away. When he looked back, Guy could see a sudden hope flash across his features. He sighed. He’d have to squash that, and he hated having to do it, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Guy,” said Merlin, slowly, “maybe with the time-travel spell I could…”
“No!” said Guy firmly. “My time is coming. It is how it is. I don’t want you to change anything, do you hear me Merlin?” He enunciated every word clearly. “When this is over, when I am gone, you are not to try to travel in time any more, and I absolutely forbid you to try to change anything about my condition, or to time-travel on my account. My life will come to an end soon, it is my allotted time, and I am content. You do not have the right to take that from me.”
Merlin’s tears had spilled over his lashes now, and Guy’s heart could break at the raw loneliness he read in Merlin’s expression.
“What will I ever do without you?” Merlin said, voice cracking. “My dearest friend, I can’t… I’m so sorry… I have been neglecting you, and all the time you were…”
Guy could only shake his head, the movement making him wince with pain. “I don’t know, old friend,” he said. “I am sorry, too. But it is what it is. I have had a good life, I have no regrets. You must not have any either.” He patted Merlin’s hand.
He peered at his tray, selected a cup, and took a sip of tea. After a moment he fumbled in his dressing gown pocket and extracted a packet of painkillers. He pressed two onto his hand and swallowed them down, the bitter taste of tea mingling with the chalky texture of the tablets.
Outside, the skies darkened; raindrops spattered against the glass. Torrents of fallen rain joined and whirled down the streets, picking up cigarette ends, dust and plastic packaging, and whisking them towards the great, grey-green river.
~#~
Guy must have nodded off, because he woke up with a start when the door burst open. Drake pushed through, looking tense and anxious. Linda crowded in after him.
“What the…?” Merlin started, but Drake shushed him.
“The PM’s coming,” he said. Linda, standing behind him, nodded solemnly.
“What?” said Merlin, again, frowning. “But…he doesn’t…why would he…?”
“I saw his car parked outside,” Drake added. “He’ll be here any second.”
Guy sat up in bed. At least his painkillers were kicking in now. He lowered his feet to the floor. “Are you sure?” he said.
Drake nodded. “There was a flag on the bonnet. And two armed police on motorcycles in front of the vehicle.”
Guy sighed. “Linda, give me your arm, there’s a good lass. Merlin, you’d better go and get some cake. White-chocolate and pistachio, perhaps? I suppose it's too much to ask that it chokes that horrible, whey-faced upstart. And you'd better put the kettle on while you're at it. Drake, help me with my slippers, will you? And then you’d better come and take my other arm.”
Guy pursed his lips at Merlin, who was standing, mouth agape. “Well don’t just stand there, gawping!” he said, irritated. “What, did you just expect to receive the prime minister in my bedroom? I have my pride, you know.”
As if an invisible button was pressed, the room erupted in activity.
~#~
When the door to Merlin’s tiny living room banged open, and two burly security guards entered the room, followed by the slight but unnerving figure of Mr Moore Dee-Reid, Guy and Merlin were fully prepared, physically at least. Merlin rose to his feet, flanked by Linda and Drake. He looked almost relaxed, but Guy could see a muscle working in his jaw.
“Emrys,” said Moore, quietly.
“Mordred,” Merlin replied. He gestured to a seat.
“Not many people call me that, these days.” Moore settled, cross-legged, into an armchair as if they were old friends. “I haven’t heard that name since you spoke to me in your tea shop, years ago.” He folded his hands in his lap.
“Tea?” said Guy. Moore looked up at him, as if he hadn’t noticed Guy sitting quietly in the corner of the room. Moore’s pale eyes looked blank, dead. Guy shivered.
“No,” he said. “I won’t stay. I have only come to give Emrys a warning.”
He stood again, and approached Merlin, eye to eye, mouth set in a spiteful line. “I hear that you have been visiting someone I used to know. Emrys.” He spoke between his teeth, jaw set, intent-voiced. “She is a liar and a murderer. People you care about may suffer if you persist in speaking to such low-lifes.”
Merlin’s forehead puckered.
“Are you trying to threaten me, Mordred?” he said. “Trying to warn me off? Guilty conscience getting the better of you, is it?”
His eyes flashed gold, and there was a sudden deafening thunderclap outside.
Moore chuckled mirthlessly. “Still doing your weather tricks, I see. They don’t frighten me, Emrys,” he said.
He sneered as his gaze swept the room, lighting on Linda.
“I see you have your pet dragon with you. Such a pretty little thing.” Stepping towards her, he touched her chin. She hissed, tongue snaking out.
“I wonder what would happen to her if your customers realised what they were being served by? It would be a shame for the last of her line to be…” He coughed. “Ahem. Snuffed out. Before she fledged.”
Drake stepped to Linda’s side, tendrils of steam issuing from his nose. “She is protected,” he growled. He seemed to grow a little, his shadow flickering in the dim electric light, and the temperature in the room became stifling. Guy could see beads of sweat breaking out on Moore’s forehead.
Moore coughed, and seemed unsettled. Running a finger under his collar, he turned to Guy. “And as for your ‘friend’, here,” he continued, his voice faltering a little. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if no hospice places were available in London?”
Guy struggled to his feet. He’d had enough of this vacant-eyed little bully.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! That’s enough petty posturing, you pathetic, jumped-up twit,” he said, shuffling towards the door and holding it open, gesturing with his hand for the Prime Minister to leave. “Your empty threats don’t matter to me. I’ll be dead in six months no matter what you do. Linda is more than capable of taking care of herself. Merlin’s a soft-hearted idiot, but he’s not weak. Now get lost. The grown-ups are talking.”
Moore looked furious. “How dare you…”
“Run along,” Guy said, encouraging, lifting an eyebrow and pointing at the door. “It’s time for my nap.”
Mordred glowered. “I’ll have you… you’ll regret this, old man.” He spat the words out between his bared teeth, jaw clenched.
“Threatening a dying man? How admirable. You must be so brave.” Guy yawned pointedly, examining his nails as if bored. “Go on. Bugger off.”
Merlin opened the door and started to usher them through it.
Moore glared, wrong-footed, and turned to leave. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he said, hissing the “s” and pointing a shaking finger at Guy. He swept back out through the door, security guards in his wake.
“And don’t come back,” Guy shouted as they clattered down the stairs. “Nasty, mean-faced little weasel,” he added under his breath.
The room felt suddenly bigger when they’d gone.
Guy sank back into his chair, warmed by the proud smiles and embraces of his friends. Smiling, he said “I can see the headline now: PM bested by pensioner.”
Merlin’s hand was warm on his arm. “It takes a strong man to withstand the sardonic eyebrow of doom,” he said, which made Guy chuckle.
The temperature in the room began to drop back to normal, but Drake was still steaming gently. “He will regret threatening Linda,” he said, his tongue flicking out. Oh dear, thought Guy. That sounded ominous. If I was Moore, I’d be a worried man.
Another thought struck him, and he reached out to touch Merlin’s shoulder. “Of course, you know what this means, don’t you.”
Merlin shook his head. “Enlighten me.”
“It means, my dear idiot, that you have changed things in this timeline.”
Merlin frowned, but then his face cleared. “I suppose it does,” he said. “Mordred has obviously met me before.”
Guy nodded. “When you first embarked upon this ridiculous quest, Arthur died in a café owned by Mordred’s mother. Now Mordred is talking about your tea shop instead. You have changed things, Merlin.”
Merlin’s face lit up in a heart-stopping, joyful grin, which then faded. He stood up and began pacing around the room.
“Not enough, though,” he said, mouth grim. “He’s threatening you because I went to see Morgan, so Kara died, Moore killed Arthur, and Morgan is in prison. The important things remain the same. I still have work to do.”
Next Chapter
Chapter Summary:
Merlin finds out what is the matter with Guy, who tells him that there are some things that even Merlin can't and shouldn't try to fix. But there's no time to reflect when the Prime Minister pays them a visit.
~#~
Merlin fidgeted and looked away. When he looked back, Guy could see a sudden hope flash across his features. He sighed. He’d have to squash that, and he hated having to do it, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Guy,” said Merlin, slowly, “maybe with the time-travel spell I could…”
“No!” said Guy firmly. “My time is coming. It is how it is. I don’t want you to change anything, do you hear me Merlin?” He enunciated every word clearly. “When this is over, when I am gone, you are not to try to travel in time any more, and I absolutely forbid you to try to change anything about my condition, or to time-travel on my account. My life will come to an end soon, it is my allotted time, and I am content. You do not have the right to take that from me.”
~#~
Later that evening - and also ten years later
Cups and Saucerers tea shop, London. Thursday 31st July, 2014. 9.24pm
Merlin’s frustration showed in his quick movements, his agitation revealed by his clumsiness. He spilt the tea, apologising and mopping, passing hands across tired eyes. He kept up a constant chatter as he mopped.
“I am sure it was Moore who killed Arthur and modified Morgana’s memories,” he said, dabbing a sponge over the intricate dragon embroidery on the duvet cover. “I couldn’t read him at all, he has magic, I’m sure of it. And his memory of the ancient past has returned in this timeline. I don’t know whether it returned in the timeline we are trying to prevent. I am hoping that I’ve already set the course of time on to a different path. What do you think, Guy? Guy?”
Guy was gasping a little with pain when Merlin sat on the bed, jarring his sore head. He felt a bit faint, and must have tuned out for a second.
“Guy? Are you all right?”
When Guy looked up again, allowing the pain to show in his eyes, Merlin was still looking at him, really looking.
“Guy?” Merlin asked again, voice distant.
His eyes flashed gold for a moment. As Guy watched, a gradual and terrible understanding crept across Merlin’s features; his jaw slackened, his eyes moistened and his lip trembled slightly.
“No,” he whispered, shaking his head.
Guy was grateful to Merlin’s intuition for sparing him the indecision about when to break the news. “Yes, Merlin, I am afraid so,” he said, grave though he already felt unburdened. “My time is soon coming to an end.”
Merlin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Tears threatened to spill over his lashes.
“How long?” he said, in a low, shaky voice.
“About two months,” said Guy. “Maybe three if I’m lucky. Inoperable brain tumour. I’ve decided not to have any treatment. My oncologist has advised me that chemotherapy would probably not succeed, it would just make me feel really ill. I am looking at palliative care options and I have requested a hospice place.”
Merlin fidgeted and looked away. When he looked back, Guy could see a sudden hope flash across his features. He sighed. He’d have to squash that, and he hated having to do it, but it couldn’t be helped.
“Guy,” said Merlin, slowly, “maybe with the time-travel spell I could…”
“No!” said Guy firmly. “My time is coming. It is how it is. I don’t want you to change anything, do you hear me Merlin?” He enunciated every word clearly. “When this is over, when I am gone, you are not to try to travel in time any more, and I absolutely forbid you to try to change anything about my condition, or to time-travel on my account. My life will come to an end soon, it is my allotted time, and I am content. You do not have the right to take that from me.”
Merlin’s tears had spilled over his lashes now, and Guy’s heart could break at the raw loneliness he read in Merlin’s expression.
“What will I ever do without you?” Merlin said, voice cracking. “My dearest friend, I can’t… I’m so sorry… I have been neglecting you, and all the time you were…”
Guy could only shake his head, the movement making him wince with pain. “I don’t know, old friend,” he said. “I am sorry, too. But it is what it is. I have had a good life, I have no regrets. You must not have any either.” He patted Merlin’s hand.
He peered at his tray, selected a cup, and took a sip of tea. After a moment he fumbled in his dressing gown pocket and extracted a packet of painkillers. He pressed two onto his hand and swallowed them down, the bitter taste of tea mingling with the chalky texture of the tablets.
Outside, the skies darkened; raindrops spattered against the glass. Torrents of fallen rain joined and whirled down the streets, picking up cigarette ends, dust and plastic packaging, and whisking them towards the great, grey-green river.
~#~
Guy must have nodded off, because he woke up with a start when the door burst open. Drake pushed through, looking tense and anxious. Linda crowded in after him.
“What the…?” Merlin started, but Drake shushed him.
“The PM’s coming,” he said. Linda, standing behind him, nodded solemnly.
“What?” said Merlin, again, frowning. “But…he doesn’t…why would he…?”
“I saw his car parked outside,” Drake added. “He’ll be here any second.”
Guy sat up in bed. At least his painkillers were kicking in now. He lowered his feet to the floor. “Are you sure?” he said.
Drake nodded. “There was a flag on the bonnet. And two armed police on motorcycles in front of the vehicle.”
Guy sighed. “Linda, give me your arm, there’s a good lass. Merlin, you’d better go and get some cake. White-chocolate and pistachio, perhaps? I suppose it's too much to ask that it chokes that horrible, whey-faced upstart. And you'd better put the kettle on while you're at it. Drake, help me with my slippers, will you? And then you’d better come and take my other arm.”
Guy pursed his lips at Merlin, who was standing, mouth agape. “Well don’t just stand there, gawping!” he said, irritated. “What, did you just expect to receive the prime minister in my bedroom? I have my pride, you know.”
As if an invisible button was pressed, the room erupted in activity.
~#~
When the door to Merlin’s tiny living room banged open, and two burly security guards entered the room, followed by the slight but unnerving figure of Mr Moore Dee-Reid, Guy and Merlin were fully prepared, physically at least. Merlin rose to his feet, flanked by Linda and Drake. He looked almost relaxed, but Guy could see a muscle working in his jaw.
“Emrys,” said Moore, quietly.
“Mordred,” Merlin replied. He gestured to a seat.
“Not many people call me that, these days.” Moore settled, cross-legged, into an armchair as if they were old friends. “I haven’t heard that name since you spoke to me in your tea shop, years ago.” He folded his hands in his lap.
“Tea?” said Guy. Moore looked up at him, as if he hadn’t noticed Guy sitting quietly in the corner of the room. Moore’s pale eyes looked blank, dead. Guy shivered.
“No,” he said. “I won’t stay. I have only come to give Emrys a warning.”
He stood again, and approached Merlin, eye to eye, mouth set in a spiteful line. “I hear that you have been visiting someone I used to know. Emrys.” He spoke between his teeth, jaw set, intent-voiced. “She is a liar and a murderer. People you care about may suffer if you persist in speaking to such low-lifes.”
Merlin’s forehead puckered.
“Are you trying to threaten me, Mordred?” he said. “Trying to warn me off? Guilty conscience getting the better of you, is it?”
His eyes flashed gold, and there was a sudden deafening thunderclap outside.
Moore chuckled mirthlessly. “Still doing your weather tricks, I see. They don’t frighten me, Emrys,” he said.
He sneered as his gaze swept the room, lighting on Linda.
“I see you have your pet dragon with you. Such a pretty little thing.” Stepping towards her, he touched her chin. She hissed, tongue snaking out.
“I wonder what would happen to her if your customers realised what they were being served by? It would be a shame for the last of her line to be…” He coughed. “Ahem. Snuffed out. Before she fledged.”
Drake stepped to Linda’s side, tendrils of steam issuing from his nose. “She is protected,” he growled. He seemed to grow a little, his shadow flickering in the dim electric light, and the temperature in the room became stifling. Guy could see beads of sweat breaking out on Moore’s forehead.
Moore coughed, and seemed unsettled. Running a finger under his collar, he turned to Guy. “And as for your ‘friend’, here,” he continued, his voice faltering a little. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if no hospice places were available in London?”
Guy struggled to his feet. He’d had enough of this vacant-eyed little bully.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! That’s enough petty posturing, you pathetic, jumped-up twit,” he said, shuffling towards the door and holding it open, gesturing with his hand for the Prime Minister to leave. “Your empty threats don’t matter to me. I’ll be dead in six months no matter what you do. Linda is more than capable of taking care of herself. Merlin’s a soft-hearted idiot, but he’s not weak. Now get lost. The grown-ups are talking.”
Moore looked furious. “How dare you…”
“Run along,” Guy said, encouraging, lifting an eyebrow and pointing at the door. “It’s time for my nap.”
Mordred glowered. “I’ll have you… you’ll regret this, old man.” He spat the words out between his bared teeth, jaw clenched.
“Threatening a dying man? How admirable. You must be so brave.” Guy yawned pointedly, examining his nails as if bored. “Go on. Bugger off.”
Merlin opened the door and started to usher them through it.
Moore glared, wrong-footed, and turned to leave. “You haven’t heard the last of this,” he said, hissing the “s” and pointing a shaking finger at Guy. He swept back out through the door, security guards in his wake.
“And don’t come back,” Guy shouted as they clattered down the stairs. “Nasty, mean-faced little weasel,” he added under his breath.
The room felt suddenly bigger when they’d gone.
Guy sank back into his chair, warmed by the proud smiles and embraces of his friends. Smiling, he said “I can see the headline now: PM bested by pensioner.”
Merlin’s hand was warm on his arm. “It takes a strong man to withstand the sardonic eyebrow of doom,” he said, which made Guy chuckle.
The temperature in the room began to drop back to normal, but Drake was still steaming gently. “He will regret threatening Linda,” he said, his tongue flicking out. Oh dear, thought Guy. That sounded ominous. If I was Moore, I’d be a worried man.
Another thought struck him, and he reached out to touch Merlin’s shoulder. “Of course, you know what this means, don’t you.”
Merlin shook his head. “Enlighten me.”
“It means, my dear idiot, that you have changed things in this timeline.”
Merlin frowned, but then his face cleared. “I suppose it does,” he said. “Mordred has obviously met me before.”
Guy nodded. “When you first embarked upon this ridiculous quest, Arthur died in a café owned by Mordred’s mother. Now Mordred is talking about your tea shop instead. You have changed things, Merlin.”
Merlin’s face lit up in a heart-stopping, joyful grin, which then faded. He stood up and began pacing around the room.
“Not enough, though,” he said, mouth grim. “He’s threatening you because I went to see Morgan, so Kara died, Moore killed Arthur, and Morgan is in prison. The important things remain the same. I still have work to do.”
Next Chapter