Merlin - But Only Say the Word and I Shall [Part 4]
Title: But Only Say the Word and I Shall [Part 4]
Genre: AU, Slash and Pre-Slash
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin (pre-slash), Lance/Will, slight Arthur/Gwen
Length: ~22,000 words
Rating: R
Warnings: Depictions of homophobia and the aftermath of violence. The rating is due to this more than any sexual overtones.
Synopsis: “And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13
Prompt: 2121. Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, AU: Uther Pendragon is the head preacher at Camelot Ministries -- the American-style anti-LGBT mega-church that has become popular in Britain. Arthur knows that he's expected to marry Gwen and take over from his father one day -- but when Merlin Emrys is assigned to work as his clerical assistant, Arthur is forced to confront the fact that he is gay.
Author’s Notes: Written for lgbtfest. I hope I did the subject matter justice.
Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Live Journal:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Dreamwidth:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
~~~~~~~~~~
He did not visit Merlin that night, did not really need to as the two of them were conversing via text and email messages long past when it would have been cordial to visit. Morgana was at his side, helping him come up with search inquiries and jotting down notes in her neat and precise handwriting. His father had come in only briefly, and seemed convinced he and Morgana were fielding the calls from the press that linked the attacks to the Ministry and coming up with a strategy for handling any potential less than beneficial results. Arthur frankly did not care what he thought, as long as he left them alone.
He stumbled in late the next morning for the first time in years. He father was not there to berate him, though he received many an odd look from several other people. The looks were explained when he entered his office to find it occupied. Merlin sat in Arthur’s overstuffed chair, wearing his standard dress shirt and tie with the sleeve unbuttoned and rolled up over his cast. His bruises were yellowing, and his cuts down to thin red lines that marred his otherwise smooth face. Gwen sat opposite of him in one of the chairs intended for visitors, also dressed as if it were just another day at the office. She had a notepad in her hand and her face was set into an expression of determination.
Merlin responded to his questioning look with a raised eyebrow. “You need help,” he said simply. A cock of his head to the side and he added, “And possibly caffeine.” He pushed one of two steaming cups emblazoned with his favourite coffee shop’s logo in Arthur’s direction.
Arthur turned to Gwen, who looked as though she was not about to budge. “You can’t do this on your own, but you can do it with our help,” she told him.
“So I’m outnumbered then?” Arthur asked, arching a brow of his own. He tried not to smile at their insistence; just as he tried not to smile at the fact Merlin was feeling well enough to pull this stunt.
“Vastly so,” a new voice sounded behind him. Morgana entered, laptop in one hand and two mugs of tea balanced in the other. She handed one of the teas to Gwen and closed the door with a jut of her hip, managing not to spill a single drop. “Shall we get started?”
He looked to his trio of friends, and thought of the others who could not be there in person but whose voices were likely to be heard nonetheless. He thought of how much things had changed in such a short amount of time, but how it had been building in the background for so much longer. Finally, since all three appeared to be waiting for some signal from him, he clapped his hands together and said, “Let’s do this.”
“Very dramatic,” Morgana assured him as she scooted by to steal the chair next to Gwen. She softened the words with a smile though, and he simply rolled his eyes in return and tried to figure out where he could borrow another chair from, or if he would be relegated to standing for the remainder of what promised to be a long day.
Later, much later, after arguments and understandings and revelations and the requisite bad take out food, after Merlin had dozed off for the second time and his father’s personal aide had been promised that he did not wish to know what they were up to, Morgana and Gwen retired for the evening, leaving Arthur and a sleepy yet seemingly satisfied Merlin alone in the office. They were under strict instructions to finish up, lock up, and go home, or to face the wrath of the two women come morning. Arthur was to drive Merlin and, as Gwen so delicately put it, “Make certain that stubborn clod actually takes his medication and gets some sleep.”
The building was near deserted save for the two of them and three parishioners who were using the common area to meet up before they headed out for the night. As he shut down his computer and started turning off the lights, Arthur paused in his actions, realising that it was the first time since he had tucked Merlin away for the night that he was alone with the other man. He closed his eyes as the memories came flooding back, tried to push them away as he felt his heart begin to race once more.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, opened his eyes as it drifted upwards to the nape of his neck. Merlin stood beside him, only a breath away and yet still too far. “What wrong?” he asked softly.
Arthur wanted to keep it to himself; it seemed so petty and small in comparison to everything Merlin and Will went through, everything they were still going through. One look at Merlin though, at the concern so clearly written in his eyes, and Arthur did not think he would be able to hold anything back.
He took a deep breath and gave in to the touch, took the comfort that was offered even though he knew he should be the one to do the offering. He could not meet that gaze though, or the questions in it, so open and trusting and worried. He looked to the lamp on his desk and traced its familiar lines while he admitted, “When I got the call, when Lance’s voice told me you were... My heart stopped. I don’t think it started again until I saw you. I don’t think I started breathing again until I felt you, alive and maybe not whole, but far closer to it than I could have hoped.”
“Arthur, I’m here,” Merlin told him, whispered it in the deafening silence of the room.
Arthur sighed. It was that, and so much more. There was so much that he did not know how to put into words, and wasn’t sure if it was even his place to. In the end, he settled for, “I know.”
“No,” Merlin insisted. He took Arthur’s hand and pressed it to his chest, right above where his heart beat, strong and true. “I’m here.”
Arthur forced himself to look away from the lamp and actively tried to look at Merlin instead. He was saying all the right things, but there was no way he could know, really know, what Arthur was thinking when Arthur himself could not put it into words. He felt the need to try though, felt he owed Merlin at least that much. “I...”
“I know,” Merlin repeated his own words back to him. He added a small nod and an even smaller smile and looked as terrified as Arthur felt, which made Arthur think that he might truly understand.
There was the sound of the door as the parishioners left, their laughter as they went out to face whatever the night held for them. Arthur ignored them, focused instead on the moment and the potential it held. “Really?” he asked, knowing the hope and want was evident in his voice alone.
“Really,” Merlin confirmed, and there was more than a little hope in that single word as well.
Arthur folded him into his arms and decided he never wanted to let go. Merlin was here, he was alive, he was nearly whole, and that was more than good enough for now. Arthur squeezed him tighter, careful of the injured arm and the hidden bruises, and tried to tuck the unruly mop of hair beneath his chin the way he had back at the hospital. Merlin surprised him though by pulling back slightly, staying in the circle of Arthur’s arms but looking at him quizzically with a slight tilt of his head to the side.
His head tilted a bit further as he leaned just that much closer. Merlin kept his eyes locked on Arthur’s and slowly, oh so very slowly, pressed his lips to his. They were soft and warm and just a little bit chapped and just a little bit perfect. It took Arthur a moment to realise he was not responding and that Merlin was beginning to pull back with a disappointed expression on his face, and Arthur decided he never wanted to see such a thing again if it were ever within his power to prevent it.
He started to respond, with vigour, and found it well received. Merlin’s little moans and breathy sighs urged him on and he found himself sinking into the embrace, wanting the kiss to last forever, not knowing if he would ever have the chance to experience anything like it ever again.
As if knowing what he was thinking, Merlin chose that moment to pull back again, not far, just enough to whisper, “There’s more where that came from.”
Arthur laughed despite his insecurity and pressed his lips almost chastely against Merlin’s one last time before leaning his forehead against Merlin’s and taking a moment to simply breath him in. He brushed his fingers through the soft short hairs at the nape of Merlin’s neck and admitted, “I’m rather new to this.”
“I’m okay with that,” Merlin promised as he arched into the touch. He looked like he was torn between leaning in for another kiss and leaning back against Arthur’s hand. “I’m not exactly a pro at this myself,” he smiled. As if suiting actions to words, he raised his hand to try to mimic Arthur’s gesture, only managing to bang his cast against Arthur’s temple instead.
“Ow,” Arthur winced as Merlin gushed his apologies, trying to sooth the pain somehow catching the short hairs against the rough material of the fibreglass.
Arthur shushed him and let him kiss it better and tried to gently lower Merlin’s hand back down to his side, and caught the flash of discomfort against the other man’s face. He opened his mouth to ask him if he was okay, but Merlin beat him to the punch by admitting, “It may be time for another dose?”
“Perhaps,” Arthur agreed with an arched eyebrow. He reluctantly slipped out of Merlin’s grasp and finished closing down the building for the night, offering his arm as escort to the land of pain pills and pillows.
That night, after Merlin was suitably medicated, Arthur lay down next to him in his relatively small bed and wrapped an arm around his slim waist and simply held him. Neither had the energy, or perhaps the courage, to do much more, and so Arthur was content to simply lay there and watch Merlin’s breathing slowly even out as he drifted off, and remind himself that yes, he was still alive.
Between a series of yawns, Merlin mumbled, “You are taking this remarkably well. I was expecting some sort of freak out in the very least.”
“Oh, I’m freaking out,” Arthur assured him. “I’m just keeping it internal for now.”
He thought about the lectures and sermons and everything he was ever taught and the disapproval and the ostracising, and how simply laying there in that bed was an anathema to everything he had even learned. And then he thought of love, of rightness, of the feeling of completion and like a missing part of his soul was sliding back into place. The two sides were warring, and likely would continue to do so for quite some time. He just hoped he found a middle ground eventually, because there were two things he could not do without in his life: God and love, and he was holding one in his arms and praying to the other that everything would work out fine in the end.
“Let me know if you need to get external?” Merlin asked, snuggling deeper into his pillow.
Arthur smiled at the casual acceptance of his struggle, and the understanding that it was not to be as easy as a single kiss to change the world, or at least how he saw that world. He pressed his lips to the top of Merlin’s head and whispered, “I promise.”
He did not stay the night, even though it was tempting. He left once he was convinced Merlin was truly and utterly asleep and made the drive back home in a silence that, for once, was not oppressive. He climbed into bed and closed his eyes to thoughts of acceptance, if not from his father, then at least from those who mattered most in his life. He did not bother to question when the two had become separate entities.
The next day, Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen all returned to the Ministry to work some more on Arthur’s incredibly bad idea. Morgana and Gwen boldly went into file cabinets without a second thought, no one stopping them as nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Merlin wandered around, phone in hand, taking as many notes as he took pictures and, again, no one was the wiser. Arthur watched it all with a sense of awe and foreboding. He thought back to Merlin’s warning all those weeks before about how easy it would have been to find the evidence he needed, even then, and did not know whether to be terrified or amazed that something so strong and powerful, something so huge, could potentially be brought down by a couple of resourceful and thoroughly pissed off miscreants.
Not that it was his intention to bring the church down completely. Like what Merlin had said even that night, there was good here, and a lot of it. Many more people were involved over their love of God and humanity than they were for the flash and the headlines. People wanted to help other people, and try to make the world a better place the only way they knew how. The church provided the means to do that. Unfortunately, some of those means had become corrupted along the way. It was Arthur’s intention to expose that corruption, to cleanse it and hopefully help heal what remained. It was going to be a long road, but one that needed to be travelled. He was simply thankful for the companions he had along for the ride.
There was one companion in particular he was perhaps a bit more thankful for than most.
Merlin helped him with his quest, helped make sure it did not turn into a witch hunt, and reminded him of the good and the potential for even greater good, if only given the opportunity. More than once he was there with a look or a touch or a smile, right when Arthur needed it most. More than once he dragged Arthur away and helped him refocus and not lose what little hope he had left when things threatened to get overwhelming.
At the end of the week, they had a stack of evidence, a list of the ringleaders and worst perpetrators, and a money trail leading from several press junkets to his father to the groups and back again. It was far from everything, but it was a good start, a compelling start, and would likely be the only advantage they would have when everything came to a head in far too short of time.
As he closed down the office on Friday night, Arthur could not help but worry it would be the last time he set foot through those doors, could not help but hope he would be back again and, this time, it would be a place he would be proud to work for once more. Camelot Ministries was not about to fall, but it was about to take a beating. Hopefully it would survive the battle to come out that much stronger on the other side.
“It will be okay,” Gwen promised him.
He looked to the cross and the shield and the symbols that had guided him for so long. “Will it?” he asked, letting a hint of his doubt surface, knowing she already knew it was there.
She did not look to the signage or the symbols, but to Merlin where he waited by the steps and then to Arthur himself. “Yes, it will,” she told him. She placed a quick kiss to his cheek and then darted down the stairs to where Morgana waited for her.
Arthur locked the door to the private offices and spared one last glance to the church as a whole before turning to face whatever the future held instead.
The next morning, he met Merlin at his flat and walked with him the short distance to the park nearby. It was crowded, swarming with people joining in the Pride activities that promised to last the entire day and well into the evening. He doubted he would manage that long, doubted he had the resolve to last past the stunt he was about to pull.
They found the booth set up for the Rainbow Coalition with no problem at all. Morgana and Gwen were already there, as were Lance and a happily discharged Will, though he was still confined to a wheelchair for the near future. People stopped by to wish the injured men well and rant about the injustice that lead them to be targeted in the first place.
Will took it all in with a patience Arthur was surprised by. He was not, however, entirely surprised when Will tugged on Lance’s sleeve and got him to wheel him in front of Arthur to ask, “Are you ready to do this?”
“No,” Arthur answered truthfully. He looked at Will’s bruised features, and at the cast on Merlin’s wrist that was becoming increasingly decorated in a variety of clashing colours as the days wore by. “But it’s something that needs to be done.”
“Damn right it does,” Will agreed. He reached out and slapped Arthur’s arm, not quite able to reach his shoulder from his seated position, but trying anyway. It wasn’t hard due to a combination of his carefulness about his injuries and his lingering fatigue, but it got his point across. “You’ll do fine,” he said gruffly. “You theologians like to hear yourselves talk, just pretend the rest of us do as well.”
Arthur huffed out a chuckle at that before taking his place at the makeshift podium with a shake of his head. Lance and Jerry had done their job and a fair sized crowd was already beginning to gather around, with more curious to see just what was going on. They fell near silent at a signal from Lance and Arthur knew it was time to begin.
“My name is Arthur Pendragon. Some of you may know me from Camelot Ministries, though it’s far more likely you have heard of my father,” he began.
A murmur ran through the crowd, with more than one person demanding just what he thought he was doing there. “Give him his chance,” Will hollered from the sidelines. His support seemed to be enough to quiet down the worst of it, and Arthur continued.
He spoke of the Ministry and the accusations against it and how there would likely be more. He spoke of the corruption and violence that could be attributed to a few, yet ruin so many. He spoke of how God said to love one another and that only He could judge, so to let Him be that judge, let Him decide what awaited those who have acted in violence and hate while you focus instead on how to live your life with peace and virtue. He spoke of the need to lead the fight against hate and towards understanding instead. He spoke of working in cooperation instead of opposition, and of the great things that had the potential to be accomplished if only people could put aside their mistrust and ignorance. And, finally, he spoke of the one thing he believed had the power to overcome it all: Love.
When he finished, he honestly had no idea what to expect. He half-expected jeers and boos, and half-expected to be chased out of the park. Instead, he found thoughtful looks and a smattering of applause that became an overwhelming show of approval. At the front of the crowd Gwen gave him a thumbs up, and at the side he saw Will do the same. Lance and Morgana clapped along with the others, but he could not find the one person he sought out.
It turned out that was because Merlin was not in the crowd, but standing at his side, offering him a grin as bright as the sun that shone high in the sky. Arthur wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, for the first time thinking that, perhaps, his idea was not so stupid after all. This was just the first step on what promised to be a very long journey but, with the right people working together, it might just be possible to find their way home.
Epilogue:
It was three months after his fateful speech and so much had changed, though there was still quite a lot to be done. His father was not quite speaking to him, at least not civilly, but the church was alive and well and going strong, albeit with a slightly altered outlook. The investigations and trials were just beginning and it would be ages before the dust settled enough to know who and what survived and who and what had fallen upon their sword to prevent further crisis.
Morgana’s outreach centre opened its unofficial doors that morning; unofficial as they were in temporary housing until the grants and funding came through, but she saw no reason to withhold help for funds when giving of oneself was free.
Arthur had donated a great deal of time and effort to the centre, as well as to the reorganisation of Camelot Ministries as a whole. He freely admitted he was living off of what was apparently quite the substantial estate left to him by his mother upon her death when he was just a babe but kept under his father’s guardianship until now. A great deal of that estate was earmarked for Morgana’s centre, with a sizable portion marked for a certain Coalition as well.
None of these matters were quite at the top of his mind, however, as Merlin was currently kissing him right and proper and rotten in the corridor outside his room. As he was dragged into said room and the door closed solidly behind him, he swore he heard Will, thankfully getting around without the aid of even a cane these days, muse, “Huh, do you think his likes to be liked as well?”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
Live Journal:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Dreamwidth:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Feedback is always welcomed.
This entry was originally posted at http://cat-77.dreamwidth.org/284947.html. Current comments
Genre: AU, Slash and Pre-Slash
Pairings: Arthur/Merlin (pre-slash), Lance/Will, slight Arthur/Gwen
Length: ~22,000 words
Rating: R
Warnings: Depictions of homophobia and the aftermath of violence. The rating is due to this more than any sexual overtones.
Synopsis: “And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13
Prompt: 2121. Merlin, Merlin/Arthur, AU: Uther Pendragon is the head preacher at Camelot Ministries -- the American-style anti-LGBT mega-church that has become popular in Britain. Arthur knows that he's expected to marry Gwen and take over from his father one day -- but when Merlin Emrys is assigned to work as his clerical assistant, Arthur is forced to confront the fact that he is gay.
Author’s Notes: Written for lgbtfest. I hope I did the subject matter justice.
Disclaimer: I do not own this interpretation of the myths and am making no profit from this.
Live Journal:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
Dreamwidth:
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four
~~~~~~~~~~
He did not visit Merlin that night, did not really need to as the two of them were conversing via text and email messages long past when it would have been cordial to visit. Morgana was at his side, helping him come up with search inquiries and jotting down notes in her neat and precise handwriting. His father had come in only briefly, and seemed convinced he and Morgana were fielding the calls from the press that linked the attacks to the Ministry and coming up with a strategy for handling any potential less than beneficial results. Arthur frankly did not care what he thought, as long as he left them alone.
He stumbled in late the next morning for the first time in years. He father was not there to berate him, though he received many an odd look from several other people. The looks were explained when he entered his office to find it occupied. Merlin sat in Arthur’s overstuffed chair, wearing his standard dress shirt and tie with the sleeve unbuttoned and rolled up over his cast. His bruises were yellowing, and his cuts down to thin red lines that marred his otherwise smooth face. Gwen sat opposite of him in one of the chairs intended for visitors, also dressed as if it were just another day at the office. She had a notepad in her hand and her face was set into an expression of determination.
Merlin responded to his questioning look with a raised eyebrow. “You need help,” he said simply. A cock of his head to the side and he added, “And possibly caffeine.” He pushed one of two steaming cups emblazoned with his favourite coffee shop’s logo in Arthur’s direction.
Arthur turned to Gwen, who looked as though she was not about to budge. “You can’t do this on your own, but you can do it with our help,” she told him.
“So I’m outnumbered then?” Arthur asked, arching a brow of his own. He tried not to smile at their insistence; just as he tried not to smile at the fact Merlin was feeling well enough to pull this stunt.
“Vastly so,” a new voice sounded behind him. Morgana entered, laptop in one hand and two mugs of tea balanced in the other. She handed one of the teas to Gwen and closed the door with a jut of her hip, managing not to spill a single drop. “Shall we get started?”
He looked to his trio of friends, and thought of the others who could not be there in person but whose voices were likely to be heard nonetheless. He thought of how much things had changed in such a short amount of time, but how it had been building in the background for so much longer. Finally, since all three appeared to be waiting for some signal from him, he clapped his hands together and said, “Let’s do this.”
“Very dramatic,” Morgana assured him as she scooted by to steal the chair next to Gwen. She softened the words with a smile though, and he simply rolled his eyes in return and tried to figure out where he could borrow another chair from, or if he would be relegated to standing for the remainder of what promised to be a long day.
Later, much later, after arguments and understandings and revelations and the requisite bad take out food, after Merlin had dozed off for the second time and his father’s personal aide had been promised that he did not wish to know what they were up to, Morgana and Gwen retired for the evening, leaving Arthur and a sleepy yet seemingly satisfied Merlin alone in the office. They were under strict instructions to finish up, lock up, and go home, or to face the wrath of the two women come morning. Arthur was to drive Merlin and, as Gwen so delicately put it, “Make certain that stubborn clod actually takes his medication and gets some sleep.”
The building was near deserted save for the two of them and three parishioners who were using the common area to meet up before they headed out for the night. As he shut down his computer and started turning off the lights, Arthur paused in his actions, realising that it was the first time since he had tucked Merlin away for the night that he was alone with the other man. He closed his eyes as the memories came flooding back, tried to push them away as he felt his heart begin to race once more.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, opened his eyes as it drifted upwards to the nape of his neck. Merlin stood beside him, only a breath away and yet still too far. “What wrong?” he asked softly.
Arthur wanted to keep it to himself; it seemed so petty and small in comparison to everything Merlin and Will went through, everything they were still going through. One look at Merlin though, at the concern so clearly written in his eyes, and Arthur did not think he would be able to hold anything back.
He took a deep breath and gave in to the touch, took the comfort that was offered even though he knew he should be the one to do the offering. He could not meet that gaze though, or the questions in it, so open and trusting and worried. He looked to the lamp on his desk and traced its familiar lines while he admitted, “When I got the call, when Lance’s voice told me you were... My heart stopped. I don’t think it started again until I saw you. I don’t think I started breathing again until I felt you, alive and maybe not whole, but far closer to it than I could have hoped.”
“Arthur, I’m here,” Merlin told him, whispered it in the deafening silence of the room.
Arthur sighed. It was that, and so much more. There was so much that he did not know how to put into words, and wasn’t sure if it was even his place to. In the end, he settled for, “I know.”
“No,” Merlin insisted. He took Arthur’s hand and pressed it to his chest, right above where his heart beat, strong and true. “I’m here.”
Arthur forced himself to look away from the lamp and actively tried to look at Merlin instead. He was saying all the right things, but there was no way he could know, really know, what Arthur was thinking when Arthur himself could not put it into words. He felt the need to try though, felt he owed Merlin at least that much. “I...”
“I know,” Merlin repeated his own words back to him. He added a small nod and an even smaller smile and looked as terrified as Arthur felt, which made Arthur think that he might truly understand.
There was the sound of the door as the parishioners left, their laughter as they went out to face whatever the night held for them. Arthur ignored them, focused instead on the moment and the potential it held. “Really?” he asked, knowing the hope and want was evident in his voice alone.
“Really,” Merlin confirmed, and there was more than a little hope in that single word as well.
Arthur folded him into his arms and decided he never wanted to let go. Merlin was here, he was alive, he was nearly whole, and that was more than good enough for now. Arthur squeezed him tighter, careful of the injured arm and the hidden bruises, and tried to tuck the unruly mop of hair beneath his chin the way he had back at the hospital. Merlin surprised him though by pulling back slightly, staying in the circle of Arthur’s arms but looking at him quizzically with a slight tilt of his head to the side.
His head tilted a bit further as he leaned just that much closer. Merlin kept his eyes locked on Arthur’s and slowly, oh so very slowly, pressed his lips to his. They were soft and warm and just a little bit chapped and just a little bit perfect. It took Arthur a moment to realise he was not responding and that Merlin was beginning to pull back with a disappointed expression on his face, and Arthur decided he never wanted to see such a thing again if it were ever within his power to prevent it.
He started to respond, with vigour, and found it well received. Merlin’s little moans and breathy sighs urged him on and he found himself sinking into the embrace, wanting the kiss to last forever, not knowing if he would ever have the chance to experience anything like it ever again.
As if knowing what he was thinking, Merlin chose that moment to pull back again, not far, just enough to whisper, “There’s more where that came from.”
Arthur laughed despite his insecurity and pressed his lips almost chastely against Merlin’s one last time before leaning his forehead against Merlin’s and taking a moment to simply breath him in. He brushed his fingers through the soft short hairs at the nape of Merlin’s neck and admitted, “I’m rather new to this.”
“I’m okay with that,” Merlin promised as he arched into the touch. He looked like he was torn between leaning in for another kiss and leaning back against Arthur’s hand. “I’m not exactly a pro at this myself,” he smiled. As if suiting actions to words, he raised his hand to try to mimic Arthur’s gesture, only managing to bang his cast against Arthur’s temple instead.
“Ow,” Arthur winced as Merlin gushed his apologies, trying to sooth the pain somehow catching the short hairs against the rough material of the fibreglass.
Arthur shushed him and let him kiss it better and tried to gently lower Merlin’s hand back down to his side, and caught the flash of discomfort against the other man’s face. He opened his mouth to ask him if he was okay, but Merlin beat him to the punch by admitting, “It may be time for another dose?”
“Perhaps,” Arthur agreed with an arched eyebrow. He reluctantly slipped out of Merlin’s grasp and finished closing down the building for the night, offering his arm as escort to the land of pain pills and pillows.
That night, after Merlin was suitably medicated, Arthur lay down next to him in his relatively small bed and wrapped an arm around his slim waist and simply held him. Neither had the energy, or perhaps the courage, to do much more, and so Arthur was content to simply lay there and watch Merlin’s breathing slowly even out as he drifted off, and remind himself that yes, he was still alive.
Between a series of yawns, Merlin mumbled, “You are taking this remarkably well. I was expecting some sort of freak out in the very least.”
“Oh, I’m freaking out,” Arthur assured him. “I’m just keeping it internal for now.”
He thought about the lectures and sermons and everything he was ever taught and the disapproval and the ostracising, and how simply laying there in that bed was an anathema to everything he had even learned. And then he thought of love, of rightness, of the feeling of completion and like a missing part of his soul was sliding back into place. The two sides were warring, and likely would continue to do so for quite some time. He just hoped he found a middle ground eventually, because there were two things he could not do without in his life: God and love, and he was holding one in his arms and praying to the other that everything would work out fine in the end.
“Let me know if you need to get external?” Merlin asked, snuggling deeper into his pillow.
Arthur smiled at the casual acceptance of his struggle, and the understanding that it was not to be as easy as a single kiss to change the world, or at least how he saw that world. He pressed his lips to the top of Merlin’s head and whispered, “I promise.”
He did not stay the night, even though it was tempting. He left once he was convinced Merlin was truly and utterly asleep and made the drive back home in a silence that, for once, was not oppressive. He climbed into bed and closed his eyes to thoughts of acceptance, if not from his father, then at least from those who mattered most in his life. He did not bother to question when the two had become separate entities.
The next day, Merlin, Morgana, and Gwen all returned to the Ministry to work some more on Arthur’s incredibly bad idea. Morgana and Gwen boldly went into file cabinets without a second thought, no one stopping them as nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Merlin wandered around, phone in hand, taking as many notes as he took pictures and, again, no one was the wiser. Arthur watched it all with a sense of awe and foreboding. He thought back to Merlin’s warning all those weeks before about how easy it would have been to find the evidence he needed, even then, and did not know whether to be terrified or amazed that something so strong and powerful, something so huge, could potentially be brought down by a couple of resourceful and thoroughly pissed off miscreants.
Not that it was his intention to bring the church down completely. Like what Merlin had said even that night, there was good here, and a lot of it. Many more people were involved over their love of God and humanity than they were for the flash and the headlines. People wanted to help other people, and try to make the world a better place the only way they knew how. The church provided the means to do that. Unfortunately, some of those means had become corrupted along the way. It was Arthur’s intention to expose that corruption, to cleanse it and hopefully help heal what remained. It was going to be a long road, but one that needed to be travelled. He was simply thankful for the companions he had along for the ride.
There was one companion in particular he was perhaps a bit more thankful for than most.
Merlin helped him with his quest, helped make sure it did not turn into a witch hunt, and reminded him of the good and the potential for even greater good, if only given the opportunity. More than once he was there with a look or a touch or a smile, right when Arthur needed it most. More than once he dragged Arthur away and helped him refocus and not lose what little hope he had left when things threatened to get overwhelming.
At the end of the week, they had a stack of evidence, a list of the ringleaders and worst perpetrators, and a money trail leading from several press junkets to his father to the groups and back again. It was far from everything, but it was a good start, a compelling start, and would likely be the only advantage they would have when everything came to a head in far too short of time.
As he closed down the office on Friday night, Arthur could not help but worry it would be the last time he set foot through those doors, could not help but hope he would be back again and, this time, it would be a place he would be proud to work for once more. Camelot Ministries was not about to fall, but it was about to take a beating. Hopefully it would survive the battle to come out that much stronger on the other side.
“It will be okay,” Gwen promised him.
He looked to the cross and the shield and the symbols that had guided him for so long. “Will it?” he asked, letting a hint of his doubt surface, knowing she already knew it was there.
She did not look to the signage or the symbols, but to Merlin where he waited by the steps and then to Arthur himself. “Yes, it will,” she told him. She placed a quick kiss to his cheek and then darted down the stairs to where Morgana waited for her.
Arthur locked the door to the private offices and spared one last glance to the church as a whole before turning to face whatever the future held instead.
The next morning, he met Merlin at his flat and walked with him the short distance to the park nearby. It was crowded, swarming with people joining in the Pride activities that promised to last the entire day and well into the evening. He doubted he would manage that long, doubted he had the resolve to last past the stunt he was about to pull.
They found the booth set up for the Rainbow Coalition with no problem at all. Morgana and Gwen were already there, as were Lance and a happily discharged Will, though he was still confined to a wheelchair for the near future. People stopped by to wish the injured men well and rant about the injustice that lead them to be targeted in the first place.
Will took it all in with a patience Arthur was surprised by. He was not, however, entirely surprised when Will tugged on Lance’s sleeve and got him to wheel him in front of Arthur to ask, “Are you ready to do this?”
“No,” Arthur answered truthfully. He looked at Will’s bruised features, and at the cast on Merlin’s wrist that was becoming increasingly decorated in a variety of clashing colours as the days wore by. “But it’s something that needs to be done.”
“Damn right it does,” Will agreed. He reached out and slapped Arthur’s arm, not quite able to reach his shoulder from his seated position, but trying anyway. It wasn’t hard due to a combination of his carefulness about his injuries and his lingering fatigue, but it got his point across. “You’ll do fine,” he said gruffly. “You theologians like to hear yourselves talk, just pretend the rest of us do as well.”
Arthur huffed out a chuckle at that before taking his place at the makeshift podium with a shake of his head. Lance and Jerry had done their job and a fair sized crowd was already beginning to gather around, with more curious to see just what was going on. They fell near silent at a signal from Lance and Arthur knew it was time to begin.
“My name is Arthur Pendragon. Some of you may know me from Camelot Ministries, though it’s far more likely you have heard of my father,” he began.
A murmur ran through the crowd, with more than one person demanding just what he thought he was doing there. “Give him his chance,” Will hollered from the sidelines. His support seemed to be enough to quiet down the worst of it, and Arthur continued.
He spoke of the Ministry and the accusations against it and how there would likely be more. He spoke of the corruption and violence that could be attributed to a few, yet ruin so many. He spoke of how God said to love one another and that only He could judge, so to let Him be that judge, let Him decide what awaited those who have acted in violence and hate while you focus instead on how to live your life with peace and virtue. He spoke of the need to lead the fight against hate and towards understanding instead. He spoke of working in cooperation instead of opposition, and of the great things that had the potential to be accomplished if only people could put aside their mistrust and ignorance. And, finally, he spoke of the one thing he believed had the power to overcome it all: Love.
When he finished, he honestly had no idea what to expect. He half-expected jeers and boos, and half-expected to be chased out of the park. Instead, he found thoughtful looks and a smattering of applause that became an overwhelming show of approval. At the front of the crowd Gwen gave him a thumbs up, and at the side he saw Will do the same. Lance and Morgana clapped along with the others, but he could not find the one person he sought out.
It turned out that was because Merlin was not in the crowd, but standing at his side, offering him a grin as bright as the sun that shone high in the sky. Arthur wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close, for the first time thinking that, perhaps, his idea was not so stupid after all. This was just the first step on what promised to be a very long journey but, with the right people working together, it might just be possible to find their way home.
Epilogue:
It was three months after his fateful speech and so much had changed, though there was still quite a lot to be done. His father was not quite speaking to him, at least not civilly, but the church was alive and well and going strong, albeit with a slightly altered outlook. The investigations and trials were just beginning and it would be ages before the dust settled enough to know who and what survived and who and what had fallen upon their sword to prevent further crisis.
Morgana’s outreach centre opened its unofficial doors that morning; unofficial as they were in temporary housing until the grants and funding came through, but she saw no reason to withhold help for funds when giving of oneself was free.
Arthur had donated a great deal of time and effort to the centre, as well as to the reorganisation of Camelot Ministries as a whole. He freely admitted he was living off of what was apparently quite the substantial estate left to him by his mother upon her death when he was just a babe but kept under his father’s guardianship until now. A great deal of that estate was earmarked for Morgana’s centre, with a sizable portion marked for a certain Coalition as well.
None of these matters were quite at the top of his mind, however, as Merlin was currently kissing him right and proper and rotten in the corridor outside his room. As he was dragged into said room and the door closed solidly behind him, he swore he heard Will, thankfully getting around without the aid of even a cane these days, muse, “Huh, do you think his likes to be liked as well?”
End.
~~~~~~~~~~
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