That Old Black Magic - Chapter 2
TITLE: That Old Black Magic (3/9)
PAIRING: Arthur/Merlin
GENRE: Modern AU, drama, romance
RATING: PG-13
WORDS: This part 3500
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.
SUMMARY: Morgana has always protected her step-brother from magical threats through the strength of her visions, but when her powers begins to fail, it's up to somebody else to save the day. Enter Arthur's new bumbling assistant, Merlin.
Prologue / Chapter 1
A/N Complete format fail this chapter, sorry.
Beta'd by sparkysluvchild, and Cover Art by glaringcandle .
***
That Old Black Magic
Chapter 2 - The Writing on the Wall
“You should fire your assistant,” Morgana announces, breezing into his office and slamming the door.
Arthur looks up from his documents, secretly pleased at the distraction, but makes a big noise of sighing in exasperation nevertheless. “What?” he asks, feeling tired of his stepsister’s impromptu and increasingly worrying trips to his office. Why did she never bring good news?
“Fire Merlin,” she orders, in a tone that leaves little room for argument.
Arthur’s never let that stop him before, though. “I’m not going to fire Merlin,” he informs her, sitting back and crossing his arms.
Morgana scowls, drawing herself up for a fight. “Fire him,” she repeats. “He’s dangerous.”
Despite the chilling expression upon his sister’s face, Arthur can’t help but grin, disbelief evident on his features. “Merlin, dangerous?!” He laughs, just for good measure. “Have you met him?!”
Morgana watches him with wariness in her eyes, mouth pursed into a long sharp line. “That’s funny, Arthur,” she snaps, looking down on him, “because that’s just what you said about Sophia. ‘Sophia, dangerous? Ha ha ha ha ha!’”
Arthur frowns at her impression of him, but grudgingly admits she has a point, remembering the awfully familiar conversation they had regarding his ex-girlfriend. “That’s different,” he says, although he doesn’t sound entirely convincing. “Merlin is the one that saved me from Sophia.”
“And how did he do that?” Morgana asks, looking him directly in the eye. “How did he overcome a powerful sorceress?”
Arthur shrinks slightly, although he would never admit it. “He just…caught her by surprise.”
Morgana narrows her eyes and, now that Arthur thinks about it, Merlin’s explanation about what happened to the demon ex-girlfriend really does sound quite flimsy - it had hardly been spoken with real sincerity either. But Merlin was Merlin: Clumsy, insubordinate, and completely incapable of working a perfectly simple copying machine. Harmless.
“Look, Morgana,” Arthur says slowly, attempting to form an argument his sister won’t rip apart in a microsecond. Because, despite how much he complains about Merlin - which is an awful lot - he’s really come to value his company, and firing him just because Morgana said so would be no way to repay his loyalty. “Have you actually had any visions regarding Merlin?”
“No,” Morgana replies empathically, looking aggravated at the thought. “But that’s the thing, I haven’t seen him at all. Arthur, if someone new comes into your life, even harmless, I see them. But I’ve seen nothing of him.”
“That doesn’t mean anything,” Arthur says, although the reliability of his sister’s powers are beginning to worry him. “Your powers have just been off lately.”
Morgana stiffens. “My powers are not off,” she snaps, glowering down at him. “Someone is messing with them.”
“It’s not Merlin,” Arthur says with complete conviction, because really, what else can he say?
His stepsister considers him for a long moment, looking helpless. “Arthur, when are you going to start to actually listen to me?” she wonders, but it seems to be a rhetorical question, because before Arthur can answer (although admittedly, he has no idea what to say) she sweeps from the room, banging the door shut behind her.
***
Arthur looks at his clock, reading 9.30pm, and lets out a tired sigh. He snaps his laptop shut and files away his papers, eager to finally go home and go to bed. He’s been stuck in the office all day, and he wants nothing more than to stretch his legs and get some cool fresh air, away from the monotony of the office block.
“You’re going home?” asks Merlin’s voice from the doorway, causing Arthur to jump.
He looks up and finds his assistant blinking at him, hovering awkwardly in the threshold. “What are you still doing here, Merlin?” he mutters, climbing to his feet and picking up his jacket. “You should have gone home hours ago.”
Merlin gives his shoulders a sheepish shrug and smiles. “Well, you know, still had a lot to do. The Valiant files won’t sort themselves.”
Arthur looks up and gives him a strange look, eyebrows crinkling. “The Valiant files?” he repeats, wriggling back into his coat. “I gave them to you this morning. They’ve taken you all day?!”
Merlin looks uncomfortable. “Well, I like to be thorough,” he explains, although both he and Arthur know it’s a complete lie. Merlin usually likes to complete his work quickly, and with as little effort as humanly possible. “You didn’t drive your car in today. Do you want me to call a cab?”
Arthur turns and glances out the window, taking in the clear dark sky. He shakes his head. “No, it’s a nice night,” he says, taking in a long breath. “After being in here all day, I could do with a nice walk.”
“You shouldn’t!” Merlin cries immediately, eyes widening. He cringes and quickly attempts to calm himself, ignoring Arthur’s surprised staring. “I mean - um - it’s really cold. You shouldn’t walk. You could get a cold.”
Arthur blinks; Merlin has never been particularly concerned about his health before. “I’m sure I’ll survive,” he says dryly, raising his eyebrows.
“I could just call a cab for you?” Merlin presses, strangely insistent. He stomps his foot slightly and sets his jaw, gazing at his boss with a look of uncharacteristic determination.
“No, Merlin,” Arthur says firmly, making for the door. “You should go home - it’s late.”
His assistant stands in the doorway, looking conflicted, and for one brief moment, Arthur thinks that he’s going to block the way. But after a long pause, he shuffles to the side, allowing the blond to brush past him.
“Night, Merlin. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” Merlin replies, sounding strained. “See you tomorrow.”
***
Ten minutes later Arthur walks down a dark, deserted street and wonders why on earth he didn’t think to call a taxi. It’s not as though he can’t afford to be driven everywhere, and walking home alone at night is never a good idea for anyone, not even rich handsome businessman who really should know better.
The air had been cool and the sky clear, however, so Arthur had fancied a light stroll. He was now realising it was ridiculous notion and one he was coming to sincerely regret.
The streets unnaturally quiet, the night frighteningly dark, and although Arthur knows he isn’t in any real danger - Morgana would have called him otherwise - the whole thing is really beginning to give him the creeps. He’s in London, for god’s sake - it shouldn’t be so silent.
He quickens his pace and adjusts his briefcase, trying not to look pathetically scared, because he swears he can hear something, feel something, waiting in the darkness. He sees nothing, though, and so suppresses the urge to call Morgana, wanting to reassure himself that he’s not actually about to get raped and murdered.
However, he makes it two more steps before there’s a loud crunch just behind him, coming from the edge of the street.
He swings round with his suitcase aloft, ready to smack the stranger to hell and back (really, the briefcase is heavy), when he spots his assistant, sprawled awkwardly in a rose bush.
“What the fuck?” Arthur gasps, because honestly, is there a more appropriate response?
Merlin lets out a large groan and sighs, rubbing his backside. He looks a bit dazed, as though he’s not quite sure how he ended up there, and his eyes widen comically upon seeing his boss’ scowling face. “Oh!” he says, attempting to look surprised. “Hello Arthur!”
Arthur narrows his eyes and glares at him, before realising Merlin probably can’t see it in the dark. “What are you doing?” he asks, stalking forward and putting his hands on his hips. He feels his intimidating boss routine would probably be a lot more effective if he hadn’t been cowering like an eight year old girl only moments before, but to be fair to himself, Merlin had been creeping around in the dark. It was well within his rights to be a little bit afraid.
Merlin grins sheepishly. “Oh, you know…gardening?”
Arthur scoffs and can feel his eyebrow ascending his forehead, channeled directly from Uther Pendragon’s endless archive of unpleasant facial expressions. “In a random street?”
“It’s my…night job?” Merlin explains, thoroughly unconvincing. “Gardening the streets for the council… and stuff.”
Arthur decides that isn’t even worthy of a response. Christ, if Merlin was going to bother to lie, he could have at least tried to be convincing. Worst employee ever.
“Are you following me?” the blond asks instead, unsure of whether to be offended, flattered, or slightly creeped out. He decides on all three.
“No!” Merlin cries, and Arthur can see his radiant blush, even in the darkness. “I just thought that you might want some company.”
The blond blinks. “Then why are you hiding?”
His assistant scrambles to his feet and looks away, arms crossed over his chest defensively. “I’m not hiding,” he claims, although his fiery flush says otherwise.
“Right,” Arthur nods, suddenly wondering if Morgana’s suspicions do warrant some consideration. Merlin had practically been stalking him, and in Arthur’s admittedly rather limited experience, stalking was never a good sign. “So you just hang around in bushes all the time?”
Merlin shrugs, giving him such a blinding grin that Arthur feels his suspicions melt away. He’s sure he felt something in the darkness but it wasn’t Merlin, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes. Merlin was good.
“Can I…walk you home, then?” Merlin asks, shuffling his feet and looking down at the ground.
Arthur frowns, feeling a little bit bemused by his assistant’s behavior. The man spent most of his time complaining about the work that he was supposed to do, and yet, here he was, offering to give up his evening to do the blond an extra favor. It didn’t make any sense.
“Don’t you want to go home?” Arthur asks, raising a disbelieving eyebrow.
Merlin shrugs again, looking completely unsure of what to say. “I don’t mind walking with you.”
Arthur suddenly feels as though he’s missing a rather vital piece of information, but doesn’t comment, trying to piece together the events of the evening in his mind. He frowns and assesses Merlin closely, feeling discomfited. He’s supposed to be Merlin’s boss - allowing him to walk him home is hardly proper behavior.
“Look, Merlin, that’s not really…appropriate,” he says uncomfortably, slightly disappointed. He enjoys Merlin’s company…sometimes - not that he would ever admit it! “You finished work hours ago - not that you did much of it.”
“It’s not like we’re going on a date,” the dark-haired man replies, strangely insistent. He brushes over Arthur’s jibe, which is strange in itself, and raises his chin defiantly. He looks steeled and determined, a look Arthur can’t help but feel uneasy about; what reason did Merlin have to be so insistent? “I just want to walk you home. Please.”
Arthur - despite the voice in his head that sounds strangely like Morgana telling him say no - nods, slightly hypnotized by the wide blue of Merlin’s eyes. “My apartment’s this way,” he says, inclining a head down the street and begins to move.
He knows it’s wrong and unprofessional, not to mention a betrayal of Morgana’s advice, but he just can’t resist Merlin’s Bambi face - it was probably the only reason he hadn’t actually fired him yet.
Merlin takes his words as an invitation and scrambles after him, falling into step beside him and shoving his hands into his pockets. Neither say anything, and they begin the very uncomfortable walk home, awkward with an invisible strain.
***
Eventually they come to a stop outside Arthur’s apartment, where they both stand and look uneasily away from each other.
“So…” the blond says at last, feeling as though it’s the end of a very embarrassing date. Which is ridiculous, because it’s only Merlin - a man he spends most of his day bossing about. “This is me.”
Merlin bobs his head and gives him a smile. He shifts uncertainly from foot to foot, staring at his boss with big expectant eyes. “Right.”
“Well, thanks,” Arthur says, supposing it’s the polite thing to say - he really wasn’t very good in these type of situations. Without his signature mahogany desk propped between them, he feels strangely uncertain, no longer the cool confident businessman - just Arthur. Merlin’s behavior wasn’t helping the situation any, either.
“I’m just going to start the walk home, then,” Merlin says after a pause, nodding his head back down the street. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Arthur frowns. “You’re walking?”
“Too late for buses, and I can’t afford a taxi,” Merlin explains, looking a bit sheepish. He licks his lips, flicks his eyes over his boss’ face, and looks away again, arms crossed defensively.
“I’ll pay for a taxi,” Arthur offers, suddenly feeling guilty. Why did Merlin bother walking him if he had to walk all the way back again? Did he like long endless hikes in the darkness? “Considering you chaperoned me here.”
“No, it’s ok.” Merlin smiles. “It’d actually be nice to do something for you where you don’t pay me.”
Arthur has no idea how to respond to such a remark, so simply brushes over it, returning his employee’s uncertain smile. “Right,” he says, floundering for another solution. He can’t just let Merlin walk home alone - he could get attacked or something; he has that defenseless victim vibe about him, and Arthur could of sworn he had felt a…presence earlier. “Do you want a nightcap?”
Merlin’s mouth drops open and he stares unblinkingly at Arthur’s cringing face. “What?!”
“Um,” Arthur breathes, already regretting the offer - he’s Merlin’s boss! “I said - do you want a nightcap?”
“Are you sure?” Merlin replies, seemingly sensing Arthur’s uncertainty - but he’d already made the offer, it’s not as though he can suddenly take it back.
“Yeah,” Arthur chokes out, turning towards the apartment so Merlin can’t see his embarrassed flush. It’s been so long since he last blushed! “Come on up.”
He ascends the stairs leading up to his front door without looking back, somewhat hoping that Merlin isn’t following him. When he steps over his threshold, though, the dark-haired man shuffles in behind him, looking around appraisingly.
“Wow,” he says, grin stretched wide over his features. He dances around Arthur’s furniture with a grace the blond didn’t know he possessed, running his fingers over surfaces and prodding at cushions. “This place is amazing. I really appreciate you letting me stay here.”
Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Are you actually being nice to me?”
“I guess.” Merlin bounces on the balls of his feet and gives his boss a challenging look - it’s much more familiar territory, and the blond feels himself relax slightly. “But you started it by letting me stay here.”
Arthur can’t argue with that, as much as he’d like to. “I suppose.” He pauses for a moment before crossing his arms, adopting his best ‘intimidating boss’ posture. “Don’t get used to it, though. It’s just thanks for you walking me back.”
Merlin smiles wider. “It was my pleasure,” he mutters, before realising how it sounds, ducking his head and looking mortified. He flushes a deep red, starting at his neck and spreading outwards, until his whole face is practically flaming.
Arthur decides to take pity and just ignore it. “You can sleep on the couch, if that’s alright? Morgana’s redecorating my spare room to more suit her tastes.”
Merlin, looking incredibly relieved, laughs. “That’s fine. I don’t mind.”
“Right, well, bathroom’s that way if you want to get cleaned up.” Arthur jerks a hand down the hallway, shrugging his shoulders and attempting to look more comfortable than he feels. “I’ll try and find you some things.”
Merlin nods his head and scampers, looking insultingly thankful to finally leave Arthur’s presence.
However, before Arthur can truly begin to mentally panic over the employee he has just invited into his home, as if by magic his phone starts ringing. He glances at the screen but doesn’t need Morgana’s vision to know it’s his sister, who always chooses to ring him at the most inappropriate of times - he swears that she does it on purpose.
“Morgana,” he greets tiredly, bringing his phone to his ear.
“Where are you?” his stepsister asks, not bothering with such a mundane thing as ‘hello’ - she never usually bothers with pleasantries.
Arthur frowns and looks around confusedly, checking he’s still in his living room and hasn’t been magically transported to another planet without noticing. “At home, obviously. It’s midnight."
“I can’t see you, Arthur,” Morgana informs him, sounding deadly serious.
Arthur can’t stop himself from laughing, despite knowing from his stepsister’s tone that it‘s probably not wise to aggravate her. “Well, obviously,” he murmurs, collapsing on his armchair and adopting his most annoying little brother voice. “I’m in my apartment and you’re in yours.”
Arthur can practically hear her roll her eyes over the phone, clearing unamused with his witty repartee. “I’m aware of that,” she snaps, and Arthur is suddenly glad they’re not face-to-face - her unamused glares were truly scary when she wanted them to be. “I mean I can’t see you in my visions. Not until tomorrow morning.”
“Oh,” is all Arthur says, because he simply has no idea how else to respond.
“Is something happening there?” Morgana asks, a note in her voice that almost sounds like concern. The blankness of her visions was obviously affecting her more than she’d ever admit. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Arthur reassures her, nodding his head despite knowing she can’t see him. “Merlin’s staying the night.”
Morgana’s cry is so loud and high-pitched Arthur almost drops the phone in surprise. “What?!” she yelps, and Arthur cringes, because Morgana never yelps. “What’s he doing there?!”
“He walked me home, it was late, so I said he could stay,” he explains, unsure of why he feels like a small child condoning his actions to his mother. He’s a grown man for god’s sake - he shouldn’t have to explain himself to his sister.
“It’s no wonder you’re always targeted!” Morgana screeches. “You’re such a bloody idiot; you invite the attackers into your home!”
Arthur sighs. “Merlin isn’t going to attack me, Morgana.”
“Don’t you see, Arthur?!” Morgana cries, sounding close to tearing her own hair out - which she probably was. “Merlin’s the reason I can’t see you in my visions! He’s magical! He’s blocking me!”
“Honestly, not everyone in my life is harboring some sort of magical ability. There are normal people in the world.”
“I know that, Arthur. It’s just you don’t seem to meet very many of them.”
Arthur finds this a little bit unfair, but considering the company he’s kept over the last few months (cough, Sophia, cough), he really can’t find any sort of suitable argument. So he says nothing, and hopes Morgana can hear his silent contempt over the phone.
However, if she does, she does an awfully good job of brushing straight over it. “Tell him to go home, Arthur,” she hisses, sounding sharp. “Even if he’s not there to harm you, his presence is leaving me blind! This has only happened once before.”
“I know,” Arthur replies tiredly, giving his head a frustrated shake. “With Morgause.”
“Yes.” Morgana pauses, a small note of fear creeping into her voice. “The only people capable of blocking me are those more powerful than I am.”
Arthur finds the thought of Merlin being more powerful than Morgana incredibly hard to believe, and says just as much. “You think Merlin is more powerful than you?”
Morgana sounds reluctant. The concept of Merlin possessing greater magic than her own is obviously uncomfortable for her as well - she always did have a complex. “He must be. It’s the only way he can block my visions. And it certainly explains why I didn’t see Sophia’s attack on you. Merlin was there.”
“Right.” Arthur nods to himself, not really believing a word of it. Merlin? Merlin? MERLIN?! If that idiot was classed as a powerful sorcerer, Arthur genuinely feared for the magical community. The man couldn’t even work a copying machine!
“Tell him to go home,” Morgana reiterates, when suddenly, there’s a loud startled cry from the hallway.
Arthur leaps to his feet and hangs up, heart shooting into his throat. He vaguely knows that Morgana is probably having a stroke down the other end of the phone, but can’t quite bring himself to care, focusing instead on running to Merlin’s rescue.
He dives into the corridor, completely unsure of what to expect, and finds his assistant leant against the wall, clutching at his chest. His eyes are wide and fearful, focused intently on something directly opposite. Arthur follows his gaze and blanches, heart skipping several beats.
The furthest wall - right beside the bathroom - is alight with fire, which burns brilliantly in the darkness. Arthur vaguely wonders how it’s even possible for a wall to be alight, and immediately comes to the conclusion of magic, before the flames die down, twisting into a distinguishable flurry of words.
Despite the fire, hot and bright, the message is shockingly simple:
SHE WILL DIE
***
To be continued...
Comments are hugs!
Chapter 3