Worth Fighting For - dreamdustmama (2024)

Merlin watches from his hiding spot in the bushes as guests of the big Pendragon gala stroll in and out through a set of open French doors, smiles on their faces and not a care in the world. The women are wearing long, formal gowns and the men are all in tuxedos, their wealth obvious from the sheer amount of diamonds and gold they're wearing.

He's not supposed to be here. Gwen and Freya have both warned him not to go, not to put himself in danger, but honestly, do they really expect him to just sit back and do nothing when there's a possibility of blowing open the biggest anti-magic story in years? He's been practicing an invisibility spell every day for the past three months to make sure he doesn't get caught. It's not the easiest spell to master, but if there's anything Merlin is good at, it's magic.

Glancing around once more to check that he hasn't been spotted, he whispers the spell, closing his eyes and holding his breath as the magic flows through his body and over his skin. When he opens his eyes again to look down at himself he can't see anything, and a small smile of satisfaction tugs at his mouth. Standing, he steps out from behind the bushes and walks straight for the French doors, moving as carefully as he can around the oblivious guests.

The oppressive heat from the summer night has seeped its way inside, causing the air in the crowded ball room to feel thick and heavy. Waiters dressed in black and white weave their way from group to group, carefully balancing trays full of tiny bits of food and tall glasses of champagne. Merlin dodges around all the people as best he can, trying not to knock against any trays or step on any toes as he makes his way to an open door on the other side of the room. The hallway beyond is thankfully empty, and after a moment's thought he turns to the right. He only has a vague idea of what he needs to be looking for; secret meetings obviously wouldn't be held in the open, but seeing as how Uther will probably want to stay close to the gala, it can't be too far.

He's almost at the end of the hall when he hears footsteps behind him, and moves out of the way just as one of the waiters rushes past, the tray of co*cktails he's carrying jostling dangerously. Heart suddenly thumping in his chest, Merlin follows him as fast and as silently as he can.

The waiter turns the corner at the end of the hall, Merlin close behind him, and stops in front of a door about half-way down. He glances around fleetingly before tapping out three sharp knocks on the wood. The door opens a few seconds later, and Merlin barely has time to see the small group of men and women inside as the waiter slips through, the door shutting firmly behind him. Scowling, Merlin presses against the wall right next to the door, waiting and planning.

It doesn't take long before the door opens again and the waiter steps out, empty tray tucked beneath his arm, and Merlin immediately sticks his foot directly in his path. The man cries out in surprise, stumbling and grabbing wildly at the doorknob as he goes down, his weight and fumbling hands causing the door to swing around and crash into the wall as he hits the floor – leaving it wide open for Merlin to easily slip through.

"Idiot waiter," someone snaps as the man scrambles up, face red, and shuts the door as fast as he can manage. Merlin feels a touch of regret at embarrassing him, but what he's after is more important than some random man's dignity.

Looking around at the people occupying the small room, Merlin recognizes every person there as someone both magic-opposed and very powerful in society: business owners, journalists, television personalities, even members of the government. Uther Pendragon himself, owner of one of the biggest technology companies in the world, is standing front and center, one hand in his trouser pocket and a glass of amber liquid in the other. There's a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a smug smile twisting his mouth. Merlin's own lips curl in anger, and just for a moment he wishes he could blast them all to hell.

"Welcome, everyone," Uther says, and Merlin hurriedly hits the record button on the mini device strapped around his left wrist. "I hope you are all having an enjoyable time tonight?"

There are murmurs of agreement all around, and Uther nods in acknowledgement before continuing.

"Let's get straight to the purpose of this meeting, shall we? As you are all aware, there has recently been an uprising of sorts from the sorcerers. They continue to ask for more and more liberties, despite what they've already been given."

"Ungrateful wretches," a woman in a deep blue dress sniffs haughtily, and Merlin's hands curl into fists. "You'd think the freedoms they already have would be enough for them."

"Indeed," a man beside her agrees. "What was their most recent request? Something ridiculous about their living conditions, I think."

A man Merlin recognizes as a member of Parliament snorts. "They want to change the laws about where they're allowed to live and the kind of magic they can do in their homes. Apparently, the fact that they haven't been tossed out onto the street isn't good enough."

He sneers, and Merlin curls his hand into a fist, carefully keeping a check on his magic.

"Yes, well," Uther says, and the way he smiles sends a chill down Merlin's spine. "That's why I've requested your presence here tonight. I've have a detailed plan that should eventually get rid of all magic and the people who use it, and I'm going to need the help of everyone here to accomplish it."

"What does this plan involve?" someone in the far corner asks.

"Over the next few months, we need to showcase how wrong magic actually is," Uther begins, completely in his element. "Police will henceforth be allowed and encouraged to arrest magic users for the barest of hints of any illegal use – as a matter of fact, they can arrest them even if there is none. They can make it up if they have to. Plant items, get neighbors on our side to lie, anything that can be thought of, do it. News reporters and papers can talk it up; make the big stories about the awful things magic is being used for. Instill fear in the hearts of the good people. And when the time comes, we'll have them right where we want them."

"Who, the sorcerers or the normal people?"

Uther smirks. "Both."

Merlin forces himself to stay calm, taking slow, careful breaths. His stomach churns and he swallows hard, bile leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Who the f*ck do they think they are, making plans to rid the world of something so inherent to it? They're trying to wipe out an entire population of people – it's f*cking genocide, and Merlin is suddenly overwhelmed with rage and fear. Closing his eyes, he leans against the wall at his back, heart pounding and head spinning. The others in the room continue to talk, excitement filling their voices as they go over the details of Uther's plan. Merlin listens to every sickening word, letting his wrist device record the entire conversation. He's going to print the whole goddamn thing; at least that way the magic users who read the news journal won't be caught by surprise.

He's not sure how long he stands there, but the discussions eventually peter off into more banal things, only a few of them continuing to talk about how magic is corrupting society. Opening his eyes, Merlin glances around, suddenly wanting as far away from this room as he can possibly get. Spying a closed window on the opposite side of the room, he holds his hand out towards it and barely whispers a spell.

The window slams open and a gust of wind blows violently through the room, knocking over chairs, pushing trinkets off the mantle, scattering papers everywhere. There are cries of alarm and shouts of anger from the room's occupants, and Merlin uses their distraction to open the main door and slip out into the hallway. He hurries in the opposite direction he came from, turning off the recorder on his wrist as he does. The angry shouts get louder as the door to the room bursts open and Uther storms out, tugging his jacket into place and looking furious.

"Where is my security?" he snaps, glaring around at the seemingly empty hallway and the group of people who have spilled out of the room behind him. "I know that window was locked, because I bloody well did it myself." He points at everyone who followed him out. "Find my head of security and tell him I want to speak to him immediately. Don't let any of the other guests know what's going on until we've caught the intruder. Whoever is stupid enough to attack me with magic will pay – they can be the first to showcase the way magic corrupts."

Merlin scowls, waiting until Uther and his entourage have disappeared around the opposite corner before continuing on his way. He has to find a way out, and he has to do it fast.

Turning the corner into another hall, Merlin suddenly stops dead – at the other end, heading in his direction, is Uther's son Arthur, alone and stupidly gorgeous in his black and white formal wear.

The hot burn of anger slowly coils through Merlin's stomach, and in a rash, thoughtless moment he grabs the knob of the door nearest him and twists it loudly, opening it just far enough to slip inside. He barely registers the small room he's in, only noting that it's some sort of dimly lit coat closet as he shoves some of the jackets out of the way and stands by the back wall, facing the door. The carpet in the corridor is thick enough to easily muffle footsteps, but Merlin's willing to bet that Arthur noticed the door opening and is heading straight for it.

Muttering the counter-spell to the one that made him invisible, Merlin immediately follows it with another well-practiced incantation. The black stealth-type clothes he'd put on at the start of the evening shiver and slide against his skin, shifting into the black and white uniform the waiters had been wearing. Leaning back against the wall, Merlin slides his hands into his trouser pockets and waits.

It only takes a few moments before the door is pulled open all the way and Arthur steps into the small space. His gaze immediately lands on Merlin and he pauses, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Who are you?" Arthur asks, tone commanding and wary but surprisingly not full of the arrogance Merlin is expecting.

Merlin shrugs. "Just a waiter," he says casually, sweeping his gaze down Arthur's body and then back up. When their eyes meet again there's no denying the heat in Arthur's. Merlin smirks. "I needed a bit of a break, that's all."

Arthur makes a disbelieving noise, but he doesn't move. "In a coat cupboard?"

"Where else?" Merlin asks, and pushes off the wall. He closes the space between him and Arthur, only stopping when the toes of their shoes brush. Arthur doesn't move, just watches him carefully, and Merlin's lips quirk as he leans closer, reaching around Arthur and grasping the door knob, pulling the door shut with a quiet click. He's close enough to breathe Arthur's scent in, and deliberately brushes his nose across the skin behind Arthur's ear. The resulting shiver nearly makes him grin wickedly, but he manages to hold it back.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asks, voice stiff; there's goose pimples on the skin just below his hairline.

"Too many questions," Merlin murmurs, slowly moving both his hands to Arthur's waist. "I want to blow you. Will you let me?"

Arthur's breath hitches. "I don't even know you."

"Have you never had anonymous sex before?" Merlin asks, amused, and can't help but chuckle quietly at Arthur's huff of annoyance. "I'm offering you a blowj*b, no strings attached. And I'm very good at them." He drops a soft kiss on Arthur's neck, just above the collar of his formal jacket, briefly flicking his tongue out to taste.

Arthur is silent for a long moment, long enough for Merlin to wonder if he should have just ran when he had the chance, but then he feels Arthur's hands on his shoulders, guiding him down to the floor. He drops to his knees and looks up at Arthur through his fringe, sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, wetting it. Arthur quirks an eyebrow, challenging, and Merlin grins as he reaches for the button on Arthur's trousers. He flicks it open and pulls the zip, tugging the black trousers and bright red boxers underneath just far enough down to free Arthur's already half-hard co*ck. Merlin bites his bottom lip, his own co*ck starting to swell as he wraps his hand around Arthur's, stroking him to full hardness.

He places one hand against Arthur's clothed thigh for balance and leans forward, sliding the flat of his tongue just under the head and over the tip, twisting it around the ridge at the top and then back down. Arthur tastes clean, like he's just showered, and Merlin's eyes drift shut as he closes his lips around the head and sucks lightly.

"Don't tease," Arthur says, only a slight hitch in his voice. "I've somewhere to be in fifteen minutes."

Merlin releases Arthur's co*ck and glares up at him, narrowing his eyes when Arthur just smirks. He strokes the hard length in his hand a few times before opening his mouth and swallowing it down to the base. Arthur grunts in surprise, a choked off noise echoing in his throat when Merlin doesn't immediately pull back. Merlin works his tongue against the base, but after a moment his throat and lungs begin to protest. He releases Arthur only to take a deep breath and plunge back down, both hands moving to Arthur's hips and gripping tightly. Arthur lets out a low moan, Merlin's lips tightening around him as he pulls back to suck on the head, dipping the tip of his tongue into the slit.

He suddenly feels Arthur's hand in his hair, gripping lightly, and he can't stop the moan that escapes. His co*ck is straining inside his trousers, aching to be touched, and he drops one hand to press against it. Arthur's breath goes ragged, and without warning he pushes his co*ck all the way into Merlin's mouth, touching the back of his throat with the tip. Merlin chokes slightly but doesn't protest, his palm rubbing against his hard dick.

"Oh god," Arthur moans, and tightens his fingers in Merlin's hair. He hitches his hips, just enough to be a question, and Merlin closes his eyes, nodding in permission. Arthur makes a strangled noise and immediately starts thrusting into Merlin's mouth. He's just this side of too rough, and Merlin's co*ck twitches, precome leaking out as he hardens even more.

Goddamn it. He had expected to get aroused as soon as he'd decided to do this, but he'd never expected the sharp jolts of pure lust that are making his hands tremble as one clenches in the fabric of Arthur's trousers and the other presses even harder against himself. It's been too long, that's all, and there's no denying how beautiful Arthur is. It's a natural response, all things considered.

Arthur's hips stutter and suddenly he's got both hands in Merlin's hair, gripping hard and holding him in place. "Oh, f*ck," he gasps out, plunging deep and stilling. Merlin tries his best not to choke as his mouth and throat are flooded with hot come, swallowing as best as he can around Arthur's co*ck. Arthur groans, low and stuttering, and when he pulls back a moment later Merlin tightens his lips around his softening co*ck and licks off as much come as he can. He gasps in a deep breath as Arthur finally pulls free, and brings one hand up to wipe his mouth.

Merlin barely has time to squeeze his aching co*ck before he's being hauled to his feet and slammed against the back wall of the closet. Air pushes hard out of his lungs, and Arthur's hand clamps around Merlin's right wrist, pinning it to the wall above his head. An instinctive burst of magic makes his fingers burn, but he balls his hand into a fist and clamps down on it before it can escape. Arthur's mouthing at his neck, his other hand fumbling with the fly on Merlin's trousers, and it only takes a hazy moment to realize what Arthur wants. His fingers finally pop the button free, and he nearly rips the zipper off as he yanks it down just far enough to plunge his hand into Merlin's pants and wrap it around his co*ck.

"Ah, ah," Merlin gasps, back arching as Arthur strokes him hard. His precome makes the slide easy, and he whines as his head falls back against the wall. He's already so close, and an embarrassingly few tugs is all it takes, his free hand twisting into the sleeve of Arthur's jacket as his org*sm slams through him, co*ck pulsing as he comes all over Arthur's fingers. He groans and slumps back against the wall, eyes sliding shut. His brain has gone fuzzy and blank, and he distantly hears a quiet laugh.

"You're not the only one who's good at certain things," Arthur murmurs into his ear before pulling back slightly.

His hand is still wrapped around Merlin's wrist, and when Merlin feels his thumb trace over the stone clasp of his leather bracelet everything comes flooding back. He tenses, hackles rising, but this is what he wanted so he forces himself to stay still. He opens his eyes and watches as Arthur frowns, gaze locked onto the clasp.

"What's this?" Arthur asks, tone more curious than accusing. "I've never seen anything like it before."

Merlin takes a few ragged breaths to try and calm his still-racing heart before answering. "It's my signature."

Arthur's brows draw together and he drags his gaze away from the clasp, his eyes a startling blue as they meet Merlin's. "Your signature?" he asks in disbelief. "You don't have a real name?"

Merlin's lips twist into a smirk and he tugs his arm free with little resistance from Arthur. "Of course I do," he says, and side-steps Arthur to get closer to the door. He does up the button on his fly before giving Arthur a mock bow, unable to stop a cheeky grin from spreading across his face. "But I'm not going to tell it to you." He ignores Arthur's narrowed eyes, taking another step towards the door. "It's been magical meeting you, but now I've got to run. Literally."

Merlin looks Arthur dead in the eye and keeps his voice low and clear as he recites the invisibility spell, the magic flaring in his eyes and shivering over his skin in the split second before he disappears. Arthur's eyes widen and he makes a wild grab for where Merlin is standing. Ducking out of the way, Merlin reaches for the door knob and twists it hard, stumbling out into the hallway as the door flies open. Arthur lets out a shout but Merlin has already slammed the door behind him and taken off, running down the hall as fast as he can. The thick carpet muffles the pounding of his feet and he doesn't slow down before turning the corner, nearly losing his balance. He rights himself quickly, heading straight for a window he spies at the other end and barely stopping himself from crashing through it.

It's locked, of course, but a glance over his shoulder at the empty hallway assures him that it won't be seen opening by itself. He looks at the lock, whispering a spell, and it clicks as the double panes swing outward. Sparing a thankful thought for the fact that he's on the ground floor, Merlin climbs through and drops into the bushes below. He doesn't bother to lock the window behind him, pushing through the shrubbery and out into the garden at the back of the Pendragon house.

He's almost surprised not to hear any sort of alarm go off, but reminds himself that if Uther's not going to make an immediate anti-magic spectacle in front of rich guests then he probably won't tolerate his son doing so either.

Drawing in a deep breath of the fresh night air, Merlin jogs through the garden until he reaches the property line. There's a low fence at the back of the garden that he easily climbs over, and once he's made it back to the public sidewalk he turns in the direction of his flat. He'll wait until the morning to call the rest of the group together and tell them what he's discovered; they'll be angry enough that he went at all, there's no need to bother them in the middle of the night.

Merlin keeps himself invisible all the way home, the low hum of his magic mixing with the afterglow of his org*sm, and he tries not to feel guilty for what he did to Arthur. Let daddy's boy seethe and suffer, knowing he's consorted with a sorcerer. It might do him some good in the long run.

Arthur stares at the closed door of the coat closet, trying his best to comprehend what the f*ck just happened. It's painfully obvious that the bloody gorgeous waiter who just gave him the best blowj*b he's ever had isn't actually a waiter, but a sorcerer. What Arthur can't seem to wrap his pleasure-fuzzy brain around, however, is why. Why would someone with magic pose as a waiter, drag him into a closet for random oral sex, and then literally disappear? And why would he be at a gala for Uther Pendragon when it's a well-known fact that his father doesn't care all that much for magic?

Arthur scowls. He's never disliked magic the way Uther does, but bugger it all if he will ever understand the people who use it.

Shaking his head, Arthur quickly adjusts his clothes, redoing the fly on his trousers and using his hand to try and smooth out the creases caused by the waiter's – sorcerer's – hands. It's a bit hopeless, and he sighs as he gives up; Uther will know immediately that he's been doing something he shouldn't have, and Arthur starts preparing himself now for the lectures on proper behavior that he'll likely never hear the end of.

Reaching for the door knob, Arthur slowly opens the door and peeks out into the hall. The last thing he needs is for anyone to see him sneaking out of a cupboard when he's supposed to be in the main banquet room. The corridor is empty, and he breathes out a quiet sigh of relief as he steps out and shuts the door behind him. He's already taken too much time, and if he doesn't show up soon his father will likely send someone from security after him. Hurrying in the direction he'd been going when he'd seen the closet door open on its own (oh, you idiot, he thinks grumpily), Arthur does his best to forget about silky black hair and striking blue eyes that turned gold and a hot, wet mouth wrapped around him.

The banquet room is just as crowded and hot as he'd expected, and it only takes a minute for him to spot his father in one corner, speaking quietly with several people. He looks angry, and Arthur's stomach drops. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way through the room, dodging around guests and actual waiters that he does his best to ignore. When he reaches Uther's side his father holds up a hand to the others and takes his elbow, dragging him to the side.

"Arthur, we've had a security breach," Uther says, voice low and clipped. "Apparently there's a sorcerer running around somewhere." Arthur very carefully keeps his face blank, grateful that Uther is scanning the crowds instead of looking at him. "They've tried to attack me in my own home, and I won't stand for it. I need you to walk through the house and see if you can find them. Security has obviously failed, and you're the only other one I trust."

"Of course, Father," Arthur says, voice as neutral as he can manage it. "I'll see to it."

"That's my son," Uther says, clapping Arthur on the shoulder. "Go on now, there's no time to waste."

Arthur gives a short nod and turns to work his way back through the room. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, and he has absolutely no idea what he's going to do. The sorcerer from the closet is no doubt the same one his father is talking about, but why would he attack Uther and then have sex with Arthur? It makes no sense. Not that it matters, the bloody bastard is f*cking invisible; he's going to be impossible to find no matter what he's done.

Biting back a sigh, Arthur retraces his steps to the coat closet. He doesn't bother to look inside; he already knows that all there will be are pushed-aside jackets and the smell of sex. Flushing hotly, Arthur hurries past it and down the hall in the other direction. He stops at the end, at a complete loss. How the hell is he supposed to know which way the sorcerer went? Scowling, Arthur looks down one way and then the other.

The window at the end is hanging halfway open, and his heart skips a beat. He knows for a fact that window had been closed when he'd come this way earlier, because he'd looked at it mournfully, wanting to open it and let in a breeze.

Glancing around to make sure he's alone, Arthur carefully steps closer. If the man is hiding on the other side Arthur doesn't want to risk scaring him off. He reaches the window and slowly pushes it open all the way, peeking outside. He sees nothing but the garden, of course, and suddenly feels completely ridiculous. Cursing softly, Arthur leans on the window sill and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath of fresh air. The man is long gone, that much is obvious, and there's no point in Arthur looking any further. He'll have to wonder around for a bit, though, just to tell his father he tried.

The sound of low voices suddenly reaches Arthur's ears, and he frowns as he opens his eyes and peers out into the darkness. There shouldn't be anybody in the garden, unless the sorcerer is stupid enough to still be here. Leaning further out the window, Arthur tilts his head toward the sound. Yes, those are definitely voices, and one of them is very familiar. He can't hear what they're saying, just a distant hum, and is climbing out the window and into the bushes before he can ask himself what the hell he's doing.

The voices are coming from somewhere off to the left, and Arthur keeps to the shadows as he follows the sound. Two shadowy figures come into view just past his mother's rose bushes, and he makes his way as quietly as he can over a set of stepping stones to the back side of a nearby oak tree. Whoever it is has hidden well, unable to be seen from any of the windows of the house. If that window hadn't been open Arthur wouldn't have had any idea they were there.

"Were you able to discover anything at all?" one of them asks, a woman's voice that Arthur doesn't recognize.

"Nothing," says the other, sounding frustrated. "The meeting was in one of the rooms that Father had soundproofed, and the window was closed tightly when I tried to access it from the outside."

Arthur barely bites back a gasp of surprise; it's Morgana. What the hell is she doing out here? Who is she with?

"Bastard," the other hisses, and then sighs. "It doesn't matter. I have the feeling this was only the first of many more meetings between our enemies. They are planning something big, and we must do everything we can to discover what it is."

"I feel so useless," Morgana bites out. "My powers are almost non-existent. I might as well not have any magic at all."

Shock knots into a cold, dead weight at the bottom of Arthur's stomach. He couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

"Don't think like that, sister," the woman says soothingly, and Arthur's head reels even more. "With your dreams under control it may feel that way, but I promise you that with practice you'll be able to cast any spell you put your mind to."

Morgana sighs. "I know. I'm honestly just grateful the nightmares have stopped. The rest of it will come with time."

Arthur closes his eyes and concentrates on taking in slow, deep breaths. Morgana has magic. Their father hates magic. This is the epitome of not good.

"I'll find out what I can before our next meeting," Morgana says. "Father is still under the impression that I'm his perfect little girl, so it shouldn't be too hard to get him to tell me something."

"Good," the woman says, and then pauses. "What about your brother?"

Arthur stiffens.

"Arthur?" Morgana sounds surprised. "What about him?"

"Do you know what his feelings on magic are?"

"No," Morgana answers, and there's a touch of sadness in her voice. "He never talks about it. He's never expressed any disapproval of it, but he's never spoken positively of it either. I'm certain he has no idea of what Father's actually doing, though."

The woman makes a thoughtful noise. "If that's true then there's still a possibility of convincing him magic isn't wrong."

"How can we do that?"

The obvious hope in Morgana's voice makes Arthur's heart clench; the two of them bicker all the time in a typical show of sibling love, but this is the first he's heard that his opinion truly matters to her.

"I think the first thing," the woman says, smugness suddenly infusing her tone, "would be to ask him to come out from behind the tree."

Arthur closes his eyes. f*ck.

"What?" Morgana gasps, and there's soft rustling as she hurries closer and rounds the tree. Arthur doesn't even try to hide, and when her eyes meet his they're as shocked as he feels. "Oh, god. Arthur."

"Magic," is all he can say, and hears the odd flatness of his voice. Morgana pales.

"Arthur Pendragon," the other voice says behind him, and he snaps his head around to see a woman with long blonde hair staring at him. She smiles dangerously. "It's so nice to finally meet you."

"I'm sure," Arthur says dryly. "It would seem that you already know me, and yet I have no idea who you are."

Her smile grows. "Did you like what you heard?" she asks, voice challenging.

"The only thing I got from that conversation is that my sister has magic," Arthur snaps. "The rest of it didn't make a bloody bit of sense."

"Arthur," Morgana starts, clenching one hand in the fabric of his jacket sleeve. "You have to listen to me. There's so much you don't know."

"Not here," the woman interrupts. "We'll take him to the safe house; no one else will be able to overhear us there."

"You aren't taking me anywhere," Arthur protests, stepping away and glaring at both of them. He had thought Morgana trusted him more than this, and his chest aches at the knowledge that she hadn't. "I don't know what the f*ck is going on, but I don't want any part of it."

He turns on his heel and starts back toward the house. Morgana makes a choked noise that almost sounds like a sob, but before Arthur can even think about turning back around there's a hot, bright burst in the back of his mind and then the entire world goes dark.

*

When Arthur wakes he's on the floor of a dimly lit room he doesn't recognize. The walls and floor are bare, and there isn't a single piece of furniture to be seen. One light bulb hangs from a cord attached to the ceiling, and is the only source of light. There's a window to his right, but the panes are either painted black or it's still night.

Groaning at the dull ache of his head, Arthur struggles to sit up. There's a closed door to his left, and he's willing to bet a hundred quid it's locked. "f*ck," he gasps, bringing his hands up to cradle his head as it throbs. "Goddamn it."

The door suddenly opens and his head jerks up, sending a sharp jab of pain through it. He hisses, biting back another curse as Morgana walks in. She closes the door behind her, looking more nervous than Arthur has ever seen her. There's a large manila envelope in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, a small packet of paracetamol held between it and her fingers.

"Here," she says, walking toward him and holding out the water and pills. "The headache shouldn't last too long, and these will help."

Arthur glares at her, but his head hurts too much for him to argue. He takes them both from her, quickly ripping open the packet and twisting the cap on the water. "Where are we?"

"The safe house," Morgana answers, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him. She's wearing jeans and the t-shirt Arthur had bought her for her twenty-first birthday earlier that year, her familiar purple converse dragging tracks through the dust on the floor. "This is where Morgause – the woman I was with in the garden –"

"Your sister," Arthur says flatly.

Morgana hesitates before nodding slowly. "Yes," she says, and her voice is firm and almost challenging. "I didn't even know she existed until last year. She's older than I am, and we share a mother. Her father raised her, after our mother became pregnant with me by Father."

"And your mother died not long after mine, which is when you came to live with us," Arthur finishes, adding the only part of his and Morgana's beginning as siblings that he knows.

Morgana nods, a touch of sadness in the smile she gives him. "Morgause and I both inherited magic from our mother. This is where we go to practice it undetected. She's teaching me how to use mine, but I don't have a whole lot to work with yet."

Arthur frowns. "Why undetected? Magic is perfectly legal, unless you're casting spells that are banned."

Morgana's entire demeanor changes, her shoulders stiffening and her eyes flashing angrily. "Almost all spells are banned," she snaps. "The most we're legally allowed to do is wipe our own arses."

"It can't be that bad," Arthur scoffs. An image of black hair and sharp cheekbones floats through his mind. "What about invisibility? Isn't that allowed?"

Morgana looks at him like he's lost his mind. "Even if someone was powerful enough to attain invisibility, no, it's not allowed. That's a powerful enough spell to have you locked away for the rest of your life."

Something tight and unpleasant furls through Arthur's stomach. He shakes his head. "But –"

Morgana sighs. "Look, we'll be here all night if I try to convince you with words of all the ways magic users are mistreated. You need to look at these."

She holds out the envelope, but Arthur can't bring himself to take it. "What's in it?" he asks; something tells him it's nothing good.

"Do you trust me?" Morgana asks, eyes full of pleading.

"I did," Arthur answers, and hates the way hurt flashes over her features. "But you apparently didn't trust me."

Morgana takes a deep breath. "Please," she says. Morgana never says please.

After a moment Arthur sighs and snatches the envelope away. "Fine," he mutters, ripping it open.

It's full of pictures, and at first he has no idea what he's looking at. The top few photos are of adults, men and women in tattered clothing, eyes empty of any sort of emotion as they're forced out of their homes and thrown into windowless vans. The next few pictures show even more people, these being dragged around mercilessly or even beaten. Some of them make him wince in sympathy, and still others make him sick at the brutality. But when he reaches a photo of a child with golden eyes being ripped away from her mother by men in a uniform he doesn't recognize, it hits him.

These are all magic users.

"Oh, god," Arthur breathes, looking up at Morgana in horror. "Tell me these aren't real."

Morgana shakes her head, her expression a mixture of anger and sadness. "They're very real, Arthur. Those are the most real pictures you will ever see." She nods toward the stack in his hand. "Keep going."

He doesn't want to, not even a little bit, but he can't stand to look at the picture in front of him any longer. The little girl looks so terrified, reaching small arms towards her screaming mother, and he swallows hard as he quickly slides it behind the others. There are more pictures like that one, of children being snatched out of their parents' arms by people who appear to be some sort of authority.

Arthur has never seen anything like it before, and his stomach twists violently. "Why?" he whispers, not bothering to hide the hoarseness of his voice. He looks up at Morgana again and isn't surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Why is this happening?"

"Because people hate and fear magic," Morgana says. "And what people hate and fear, they try to eradicate. There are magic users everywhere, and this is only a drop in the bucket of what they're being put through. Children are taken from their parents on false grounds and placed in secure prisons they've dubbed rehabilitation centers. While there, they're taught to hate their magic and themselves for having it. Adults with magic are arrested, beaten, tortured, raped, and killed. Things like this are happening in this very city, Arthur, and most people aren't even aware of it."

"Why aren't these people being stopped?" Arthur asks fiercely. "It's not illegal to have magic! They can't just do these kinds of things and get away with it."

"They can and they are," Morgana insists. "And it's the ones with all the societal power that are making it possible. The ones in the government, the ones with the huge, important companies – the ones like Father."

"No." Arthur shakes his head in refusal, but something cold and hard settles at the bottom of his stomach. "I know he doesn't like magic but he wouldn't do things like this."

Morgana stares at him for a long moment, chewing on her bottom lip. Finally, she takes a deep breath. "Look at the last picture."

Arthur hesitates, but after a second he shuffles the pictures around with trembling hands. The last photo in the stack is of Uther, talking with one of the men in the odd uniforms. Behind them is an entire family surrounded by more men, these with guns; the family looks terrified, and Uther has a familiar self-satisfied look on his face.

Closing his eyes, Arthur swallows hard and takes a deep breath in an effort not to sick up all over the pictures. After a minute he shakes his head and opens his eyes. "No," he says firmly. "It's some sort of misunderstanding, or it's a fake. He's not – he couldn't –"

"Arthur –"

"No!" Arthur nearly shouts, anger and fear and something like betrayal twisting painfully in his chest. He takes another deep breath before grabbing the manila envelope and stuffing the pictures back into it. "I want to go home," he says, and absolutely hates the way his voice cracks on the last word like he's thirteen years old again.

"Alright," Morgana says softly. "We'll go home."

She stands to leave the room, and Arthur keeps his eyes trained on the floor, teeth clenched together. He hears her sigh and feels her hand brush his shoulder, and then she's out the door, closing it quietly behind her.

*

Morgause insists on blindfolding him before they leave, and despite every survival instinct he has screaming at him not to allow it, it's better than being knocked out again. She ties the cloth tightly over his eyes before letting Morgana guide him from the room, keeping a hand on his elbow as they walk through the house. He can tell when they step outside, the warm night air brushing over the heated skin of his face. He's still wearing his formal suit, and he thinks he just might have to burn it.

"Here," Morgana says, and places his hand on a familiar car door. "I'll drive us back in my car. Get in and buckle up while I speak to Morgause for a second."

Arthur scowls but she disappears before he can say anything. He fumbles around until he finds the handle, and carefully climbs into the car. The top of her cherry red convertible must be down because he doesn't hit his head on anything, and he purposely slams the door shut before reaching around and feeling for the seat belt. He snaps it into place and then leans back against the seat to wait.

The images from the pictures have been circling in his head since he saw them, and he thinks he might go mad if they don't stop. Nobody should have to see things like that, but his feelings can't possibly compare to those of the ones who actually experienced it. Everything from just a few hours ago feels like a distant memory, but when Arthur thinks of the man in the closet he suddenly has to struggle to breathe.

"Ready?" Morgana asks, startling him as she opens her door and slides into the driver's seat. Arthur can't answer, so he just swallows as hard as he can and nods. Morgana doesn't say anything else, starting the car and putting it into gear.

Arthur discovers that it's an incredibly disorienting feeling to ride in a vehicle while not being able to see anything. He can't anticipate bumps or sharp curves, and ends up clinging to his seat as they go along. Neither of them speaks for a long time, and when Morgana finally does it feels like something breaking between them.

"We help them, you know," she says quietly. "The ones being abused and tortured, the families that are being ripped apart. Morgause and I find them and save them. We break them out of the places they're imprisoned, we help them find where their children are sent and rescue them. We give them food and water and supplies and get them to safer places. A lot of the time they get new names, names that aren't associated with magic. They have to live a half-life, denying who they are just to survive. No matter what you think of Father and what he does or doesn't do, you can't deny that the way magic users are being treated is disgusting and horrible."

Arthur doesn't answer her; she's right, and it only makes the hard knot in his stomach tighten.

A short while later he feels Morgana shift down, and isn't surprised when she says, "You can take off your blindfold. We're almost home." He reaches up and slides it off, leaving it knotted as he shoves it into his jacket pocket; it can burn with the suit. Blinking several times to adjust his eyes, he can see the Pendragon manor in the near distance. It looks like all the guests have left, and he hopes Uther hasn't raised the alarm at his absence.

"We'll need to think of an excuse for being out," Morgana says. "He'll be angry we missed the gala."

Arthur shakes his head. "Just tell him you were trying to help me find the sorcerer. Say that I had reason to believe he had left the property and so I asked you to drive me around to look for him. Nothing came of it, obviously."

"Sorcerer?" Morgana repeats, frowning. "What sorcerer?"

"I really don't want to talk about it."

Fortunately she lets it go, and Arthur feels no guilt at all for bolting out of the car as soon as she's put it into park. He heads for the side entrance to the house, hoping Uther is in his study on the other side. Arthur's rooms are close by, and he takes the back stairs two at a time to the top floor. Nobody meets him along the way, and he's nearly overwhelmed with relief when he finally reaches his bedroom.

Quickly closing and locking the door behind him, Arthur heads straight for his en suite bathroom and drops to his knees in front of the toilet, stomach rolling violently as he starts to vomit. It's mostly dry heaves, having been hours since he's last eaten, but he's still sweaty and gross when he's finished. Standing on shaky legs, Arthur strips off his tuxedo and drops it onto the floor, turning the water in his shower on as hot as he can stand it.

When he finally collapses into bed half an hour later, skin flushed from the heat of the water, his last thought is of beautiful blue eyes flashing gold.

*

Merlin wakes late the next morning, and as he rubs the sleep from his eyes he's unsurprised to realize that he's hard as a rock. He'd dreamed about bloody Arthur Pendragon all night long, and most of them had been really f*cking hot sex dreams. Groaning in frustration, Merlin shoves his hands into his hair and glares up at the brown water stain on the ceiling above his tiny bed. His co*ck aches, and he closes his eyes as he tries to will his hard-on to go the f*ck away.

It doesn't, of course, and he spends the next five minutes debating on the merits of a magically heated shower versus the cold-water-only spray that it would be if he did nothing. The sudden memory of Arthur's co*ck heavy on his tongue makes him shiver, and then his mind oh so helpfully reminds him of how Arthur's hand felt wrapped around him.

Sighing in defeat, Merlin closes his eyes and slides his hand down his stomach to his co*ck, both grateful and annoyed at himself for falling asleep naked the night before. He wraps his fingers tightly around himself, giving a few dry strokes before raising his hand to his mouth and licking a wet stripe across the palm. The tip of his co*ck is wet with precome, and he swipes his hand over the head to add the clear liquid to the dampness on his palm before once again wrapping his hand around himself and stroking.

He doesn't hold back, because he knows that he's essentially wanking over Arthur, and that's something he really doesn't want to be doing. Arthur is a bastard, the son of a man who hates magic as much as Merlin loves it. The only reason he'd given him the blowj*b yesterday was some sort of twisted, f*cked up revenge, and to be having a wank over him now completely defeats the purpose of it.

Clenching his teeth together, Merlin makes a low, choked off noise in the back of his throat as he comes, spilling hotly over his fingers and stomach.

He lays there for a minute, catching his breath, his fingers loose around his softening co*ck. There's got to be something actually wrong with his brain; Arthur may be gorgeous, but that doesn't mean sh*t when Merlin is constantly at war with people just like him, people who hate everything Merlin is.

Something in his chest clenches, and Merlin scowls deeply. Sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he firmly pushes away any more thoughts of Arthur. He needs to hurry up and take his shower so he can get to the building where they put the news journal together. The others will be there soon, and he wants to tell them what he found out last night before they start printing the final version of the new issue.

He showers quickly under the magically heated water, carefully avoiding the rusted-out spot at the bottom of the tub, and then dresses in jeans, a t-shirt, and his trainers. He grabs his wrist recorder from his nightstand, strapping it on tightly as he heads for the door. It's Freya and Will's turn to have provided breakfast for everyone at the factory, so he doesn't bother making any coffee or grabbing something quick to eat before leaving.

The abandoned building where the news journal is located isn't in the best of neighborhoods, and there have been quite a few times Merlin has had to run from authorities and other people with guns. He can't use his magic to defend himself here; it would just cause the police that are paid off by the anti-magic movement to raid the street, killing innocents and probably finding the news journal in the process.

He keeps his hands out and his gaze low as he walks, ignoring anybody he passes on the sidewalk. When he reaches an empty, overgrown lot he cuts through it, ducking into a small grove of trees at the back. On the other side is the back of the factory, surrounded by a chain-link fence that's barely standing. One of the metal poles holding it up has rusted through, and as a result there's an opening where the fence has broken free and curled away. Merlin steps through and hurries across the weed-covered parking lot, easily side-stepping the potholes and cracked asphalt.

One of the doors along the back is hanging half off its hinges, and as he steps inside he can hear low voices coming from the large room they claimed as their main office. Taking a deep breath, Merlin smells fresh coffee and Freya's scones, and he nearly groans in anticipation. He hasn't eaten since early yesterday evening, when he grabbed a slice of toast on his way out the door to the Pendragon gala.

"You're late," Will says as soon as Merlin steps through the door. He's sprawled across one of the old leather recliners, hands tucked behind his head, and there's a lazy grin on his face.

"And you're a tosser," Merlin says lightly, walking over to the table in the middle of the room and grabbing the Styrofoam coffee cup with his name scribbled on the side. There's a plate of scones next to where it had been, and Merlin isn't surprised to find them both still hot. "Thank you," he says in Freya's direction, and she rolls her eyes at him from where she's sitting behind their lone computer, keys clacking as she types.

"Nice of you to finally join us, Merlin," Gwen says, coming up beside him and shoving a stack of papers into his hands. "You get to read over these articles for tomorrow's issue. Make sure they're accurate, and that there aren't any typos. When you're finished, give them to Lance so he can add them to the layout. We're behind schedule, so we're going to have to stay late tonight to get all of the copies printed."

"Actually," Merlin starts, but Gwen has already rounded on Will.

"Get off your lazy arse and start getting the pictures ready," she snaps. "Like I very nicely asked you to do an hour ago."

Will has the decency to look guilty, dropping his arms and sitting up straighter in his chair. "I'm getting to them," he says, sounding a tiny bit petulant. "I just needed to rest for a few minutes."

Gwen stares at him, and then turns to look at Freya. "I do not understand how you can live with him," she says, baffled. "I would go absolutely mad."

Freya glances up, a small smile quirking her lips. "The sex is decent," she says, shrugging.

"Oi!" Will protests at the same time Merlin starts making gagging noises. "More than decent, I'd say!"

"Thank you, love," Freya says, eyes sparkling with humor. "It really means a lot that you think so highly of me."

Will scowls, and Gwen laughs.

"As much as I just love hearing about my sister and her boyfriend's sex life," Merlin says, inflecting his voice with every ounce of sarcasm he can manage, "I've got something important to tell you all."

"You've decided to become a monk," Lance guesses, stepping through the door that leads to the room where they keep the printing press.

Merlin looks at him in horror. "Oh, god no. I happen to like sex, thank you very much."

"How would you know, you haven't had a good f*ck in ages," Will points out with a snort.

"Have done! Last night, even," Merlin says without thinking. "Well, it wasn't so much f*cking, but there were definitely co*cks and come involved."

"Ugh," Freya says, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Now who's grossed out?"

Gwen throws her hands in the air. "Can we please get back on subject? We've got an illegal news journal to put together, and we're already behind schedule."

"Yes, right," Merlin says, pointing at her. "And we're about to be even further behind schedule, actually, once you hear what I've got to tell you."

"No," Gwen immediately says, shaking her head. "If it's going to put us even further behind, keep it to yourself."

"Is it important?" Lance asks, brows drawing together.

Gwen turns to walk away. "I don't care if it's important, I'm not listening!"

"I snuck into the Pendragon gala last night," Merlin blurts, getting it out before there can be any more interruptions.

Gwen immediately turns on her heel and gapes at him. "You what?"

"Merlin," Freya gasps. She pushes her chair away from her desk and stands, stalking up to him, face drawn as she punches him in the arm. "Are you really that stupid?"

"Ow." Merlin frowns, rubbing where she had hit him. "I was invisible, okay? Nobody saw me." Except Arthur, of course, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

"Wait," Will says, blinking at him. "Didn't you just say you had sex last night?"

Oh. Well, f*ck. "The point is – "

"Oh my god," Will says in horror. "I'm disowning you. You are no longer my best friend and brother-in-law-to-be."

Merlin gapes at him in shock, forgetting for a moment what he was trying to tell them. "Your what?"

"We are not getting married," Freya snaps at Will. "Not anytime soon, at least."

"Well, one day!" Will says, looking put out.

"Can everyone please calm down so Merlin can explain?" Lance pleads, looking torn between annoyed and amused.

"I don't think I can believe what I'm hearing," Gwen says weakly, looking at Merlin as though she no longer knows who he is. "Are you seriously telling me that not only did you sneak into the Pendragon home –"

"I was invisible!"

"– but did so after both Freya and I told you it would be a terrible idea –"

"Which it wasn't, by the way."

"– and you actually slept with someone while there? Because if you did, Merlin, that would mean that you were not actually invisible the entire time, like you are trying to imply."

sh*t.

"Look," Merlin says after a silent, awkward moment, "that's really not the point, okay? I snuck in, found the meeting we'd heard about, and recorded it. They were talking about basically eradicating the entire magical population – this isn't about the rights of sorcerers anymore, it's about our lives, and we've got to get this new information out there so people might have a chance."

The entire atmosphere in the room changes and Gwen, Freya, Lance, and Will all exchange serious looks.

Finally, Lance nods at Merlin. "Let's hear it, then."

Merlin takes a deep breath and hits the play button on his recorder, unable to stop from scowling as Uther's voice fills the room. Already knowing what the others are about to hear doesn't make it any easier to listen to again, and his stomach rolls as the hatred-filled words echo off the concrete walls.

Will reaches for Freya's hand, and Merlin can see the fear in his eyes. Lance's jaw clenches as he listens, anger filling his expression, and Gwen's hand comes up to cover her mouth as tears fill her eyes. Freya ducks her head, face blank, free hand fiddling with the pendant around her neck. It matches the clasp on Merlin's bracelet; their parents had given the bracelet and necklace to them as presents for their sixteenth birthday.

That had been over two and a half years ago, just before Balinor had been accused of illegal magic and Hunith of aiding him. They had been sent to a high-security magical prison, and both had died within the year. Merlin and Freya had barely escaped from the authorities themselves, and had hidden in the secret basem*nt at Will's. By the time they were old enough to avoid being placed in one of those magic-reform schools, Freya and Will had fallen in love, and she had decided to stay with him.

Merlin, on the other hand, had felt the need to make a go of it on his own, so he had hugged them both tightly and rented himself a tiny bed-sit in one of the government-approved flat buildings for magic users. In the following six months he had befriended Gwen and then her boyfriend Lance, and together the five of them started the news journal to keep other magic users informed of what was really happening in the world.

"Okay," Gwen says thickly when the recording finally stops. "Let's get this written up verbatim, and make sure to name as many names as possible. Merlin, you were there, so write down everybody that you recognized. The more quotes we can match to people the better. Freya, can you handle transcribing it?"

Freya nods, and Merlin can see her knuckles go white as she squeezes Will's hand.

"I'll go rearrange the layout," Lance says. "This needs to be our front page story. Are we going to hold any articles back for the next issue, or will we just make this one bigger?"

"Make this one bigger," Will says. "The other stuff is important too, and it's probably going to get harder for us to publish anything once this actually starts happening." He glances at Gwen. "I'll get those pictures sorted while Freya's transcribing."

Gwen nods, her expression serious. "Let's try to get this issue out by tomorrow night. The sooner the better."

Lance immediately heads back for the printing room, and Gwen takes the stack of articles that she had handed Merlin earlier. "I'll do these," she says. "You get that list of people down."

She heads for the corner where her desk is located, and Merlin is left with Freya and Will. "Hey," he says quietly, reaching out to tug on a lock of her hair. "It'll be okay."

"No, it won't," Freya says, a sad smile tugging her lips. "Things are horrible enough as it is, and now they're just going to get even worse. You know I'm right, Merlin."

Merlin sighs. "I know," he admits, because he does, and he's never lied to Freya. "But as long as we stick together we can get through anything. You, me, and Will, and now Gwen and Lance. We will survive this."

Freya takes a deep breath and nods. "You're right," she says, and starts fiddling with her pendant again. "Hand me your recorder, I'm going to go get started on the transcription."

Merlin takes off the wrist device and gives it to her, frowning as she releases Will's hand and walks away without another word.

"She'll be okay," Will tells him. "She's tough; you know that as well as I do. Soon enough she'll be a ball of fire and magic, wanting to get her own back."

Merlin huffs out a laugh. "Yeah."

"She's been collecting guns, actually," Will says, watching Freya as she settles at her desk with Merlin's recorder and a pair of earphones. "Well, no. Collecting isn't really the right word. She's definitely got a small stash of them though."

Merlin stares at him in shock. "Guns? She's got magic, what the f*ck does she need guns for?"

"Dunno." Will shrugs, frowning. "When I asked, she said it was just a feeling she had. That they would be needed." He glances over and catches Merlin's eye. "It seems like she might be right."

Merlin doesn't know what to say to that. "Do you really think it will get that bad? That we would need guns for protection?"

"I think," Will says carefully, "that it might already be." They're both silent for a long moment as they let that sink in, and then Will continues with a hardness in his voice that wasn't there before. "So who did you sleep with?"

Merlin tenses. "I really don't see why that matters."

"Well," Will starts, looking hard at Merlin. "That would depend on who it was, wouldn't it? I mean, if it was some random waiter then okay, fine, everyone needs a one-off every now and then. But if it were someone important – someone like Arthur Pendragon, for example –"

Merlin flushes, unable to hide the flinch Arthur's name causes. Will's expression twists but he doesn't look at all surprised.

"Christ, Merlin. How stupid can you really be?"

Merlin scowls, glaring at him. "It's not like he knows who I am. I never told him my name."

"You don't get it, do you?" Will snaps, turning to face Merlin fully. "Unless you used a magical disguise for your face – and I know you didn't, don't even bother trying to lie – then he can recognize you. He can describe you to the all the authorities, and even if, by some miracle, they don't realize it's you, they'll go after every guy who even resembles you in the slightest way. Hell, they might do that anyway. f*ck only knows how many lives you've put in danger. Don't you ever use your bloody brain?"

Shame and guilt twist into a tight knot in his chest, and Merlin thinks he might be sick. "f*ck," he whispers, closing his eyes.

Will sighs and Merlin opens his eyes to stare down at his trainers. "Look," Will says, voice much calmer, "there's nothing we can do about it now. Let's just get this new information out and worry about everything else later." He hesitates a moment and then reaches up to squeeze Merlin's shoulder in a gesture meant to be reassuring before walking away.

Merlin runs one hand through his hair, wanting to punch something. He feels like a complete idiot. How could he have not realized the consequences of Arthur seeing his face? He'd wanted him to know it was Merlin who had sniffed out and exposed his father's plan, but he hadn't wanted him to really know who Merlin was. And he certainly hadn't meant to put anyone else in danger.

The memory of Arthur's thumb sliding over the clasp of his bracelet has him doing the same, and Merlin's heart nearly stops as an idea suddenly forms in his mind. The design of his clasp and Freya's pendant are unique to only them, and it's the same design they've been using on the news journal since they started publishing it. If he sends a copy of the new issue to Arthur, then surely he'll see the front and center design and know it couldn't have been anybody but Merlin. Maybe that will at least keep him from going after random similar-looking blokes.

Letting out a breath, Merlin makes his way to his desk to start on that list of names for Gwen. The sooner they get the news journal ready for distribution the better.

Arthur spends the two days after the gala locked in his room, alternating between restless sleep cycles filled with dreams of the pictures he'd seen and shameful wanking over memories of the man in the coat cupboard. Nobody bothers him, but the morning after their return Morgana slips a note under his door to inform him that she told Uther his story and that he believed her. Arthur can't even bring himself to feel bitter about it, ripping the note into tiny pieces and flushing it down the toilet.

Hunger finally drives him out, and he takes a quick shower before dressing in sweats and a t-shirt to join Uther and Morgana in the dining room. He doesn't look at either one of them as he takes his seat and reaches for the platter of eggs, though he can feel Morgana watching him.

"Nice of you to finally join us," Uther says, eyes scanning the daily newspaper in his hand. "I'd almost thought you were going to have another angsty teenager phase."

Arthur gives him a wan smile, even though Uther doesn't actually see it. "No, I just…needed a bit of recovery time from the gala. That's all."

Uther makes a noncommittal noise, turning a page. "We all did, I think. I've fired all of the security and hired new ones; these have better training at keeping the sorcerers under control."

Arthur's stomach clenches hard, and he has to swallow down the bile that rises in this throat. He's no longer hungry, but he reaches for the sausages anyway, ignoring the way his hand shakes. He feels jittery and unbalanced, and his eyes skitter along the table until they suddenly clash with Morgana's, freezing him in place.

"Morgana informed me of how you two drove around in an effort to find the bastard who broke in," Uther continues, completely oblivious to the gut-twisting stare between his children. "I commend you for your effort; everything possible must be done to stop these people. They think they can just do whatever they want, and we need to show them that that isn't the case at all. Quite the opposite, in fact."

Morgana's expression goes hard, and Arthur drops his gaze to his half-filled plate, heart thudding painfully in his chest. He opens his mouth to agree just like he's always done, but finds that the words won't come. Never before has he realized exactly what it was he was agreeing to, and now that he knows, it's impossible to say anything at all to appease his father.

Uther doesn't seem to notice, and silence falls between them. The only thing that can be heard is the rustle of the newspaper and the scrape of Arthur's fork as he drags it through the food on his plate. Morgana eats slowly and silently, watching him as though waiting for him to do or say something. What, Arthur has no idea; he can barely wrap his mind around everything much less come up with something clever to say.

Halfway through the meal a staff member brings in the mail, and sets down a stack next to Arthur's plate. Grateful for something to do that doesn't involve pretending to eat or looking at his family, he picks it up and starts sorting through it: junk, junk, bill, magazine, junk, more bills, a catalogue, and a smallish manila envelope. His stomach lurches at the sight of it, and he glances worryingly in Morgana's direction. He can't take any more photos like the ones before, especially in the presence of their father.

She raises her eyebrows at him, shaking her head and shrugging slightly when he makes a small gesture toward the envelope. Biting his lip, Arthur stares down at it with a tight knot in his stomach. His name and address are hand-written on the front in careful letters, and there's no return address on it anywhere.

Heart suddenly pounding against his ribcage, Arthur turns the envelope over and carefully rips open the sealed flap. There's a newspaper of some sort inside, and his brows draw together in confusion as he pulls it out. It almost looks like one of those rags that can be found at street vendors or in the checkout line at Tesco's, but there's something distinctly different about it.

Namely the large, familiar design at the top.

Arthur draws in a sharp breath, staring in shock. It's circular and dark blue, with four odd symbols around the outside, all tinted lightly with different colors, and another one in the middle. There are trident-looking things between them, and lots of lines and circles holding it all together. He closes his eyes as he remembers the wiry wrist held tightly in his hand, the way his thumb had brushed over warm leather and cool stone. The design had intrigued him then, and now here it is again, on this unfamiliar paper, staring him right in the face.

It almost feels accusatory, or maybe like a warning of some sort. The sorcerer had said it was his signature; did that mean this was sent by him?

Opening his eyes, Arthur ignores the confused scowl Morgana is giving him and looks back down at the paper. Just below the design, in a large block-letter font, are the words Complete Eradication of Magic and Magic Users Planned. The words don't make any sense at first, but when they finally sink in a few moments later Arthur thinks he might be sick.

Complete eradication.

There's an article below the headline, but he skips it to flip through the rest of the paper. He skims a few of the other articles, unsurprised to discover that many of them are about some way magic users are being mistreated and discriminated against. Others are about families being ripped apart, homes destroyed, people beaten and even killed by fellow citizens just because their magic was discovered. Pictures sickeningly similar to the ones Morgana showed him are scattered throughout, highlighting the seriousness of what is being reported.

There's an obituary section that Arthur can't bring himself to read, and on the last page is a small list of something. The words don't make any sense at all, and it only takes him a second to realize that they must be spells.

Eventually there's nothing else left, so he turns back to the front page and starts to read the article under the huge headline:

Two nights ago, I had the opportunity to use a newly-mastered invisibility spell at the Pendragon Gala.

You all know the one; it was promoted for months with telly ads and newspaper ads and posters all over the place. Everywhere you looked it was in your face, telling anyone and everyone that all the rich, secretly anti-magic supporters were going to get together and party, and you weren't invited.

There were going to be drinks and music and fancy little appetizers carried around by blank-faced waiters and even a speech or two by Uther Pendragon and his son Arthur. I had been planning on staying far, far away from this uppity shindig, but then I got some very interesting information.

One of my inside informants at Channel One overheard a conversation between television news anchor Hilary Winston and her 'secret' lover Sir Ian Hollander. Both of them are members of the most major anti-magic propaganda group in existence (the one headed by Uther Pendragon himself), and according to their post-coital conversation there was a top-secret meeting for this group that would take place at the gala.

Obviously, I had to go. My invisibility spell worked perfectly, and aside from a surprisingly pleasant twenty minutes spent in a hallway cupboard (don't ask), what I discovered at the gala was worse than I expected.

Uther Pendragon has put together a plan to destroy any and all magic users, thus erasing magic from society all together. The people at this meeting (listed below) are all in agreement with him, and as of this moment they all have a part to play in this genocidal plan.

And genocide it is. If they get their way, in no more than a year all magic and the sorcerers who use it will be illegal. Yes, you read that right: sorcerers themselves will be illegal, and any that are discovered will be locked away and put to death.

At this point, of course, methods such as legal automatic death penalties for all magic users are obviously not feasible. No, they plan on taking it a bit more slow and subtle than that. We all know about the authorities not on any public payroll, the ones who invade our homes and accuse us of things we haven't done just so they can drag us out and lock us up, beat us until we're crushed and broken and unable to defend ourselves in any way.

These instances are now going to be made vaguely public, reported in such a twisted way that it will seem like the sorcerer's fault. They plan on making it look like we're becoming violent and evil, set on taking over the world and forcing non-magic people to bow down to us. It's the other way around, actually, but those who are neutral or already hate magic aren't going to see it like that. They'll most likely believe what they're shown at face value, or even support it, and the ones who know the truth will be the ones who are taken out first.

Eventually, in about twelve to eighteen months, they're going to introduce a bill to make all magic and the people who use it illegal. After a year or more of the population seeing how horrible we're supposed to be, it will easily pass. We're already hated by most, and this will only serve to fuel that hatred. They want to obliterate us, and they're doing a damn good job of it.

I recorded this meeting while there, and below is a complete, word-for-word transcription of everything that was said. We have to do our best to prepare for this, because even with this publication they're not going to stop or change their plan. They are in the majority, and very powerful people. They will deny, deny, deny, and then turn it around to blame it on us. This is being printed because you deserve to know what's coming.

The list of people at the meeting is just above the transcription, and Arthur recognizes every single name on it. Uther's is at the very top, and a cold sort of calm settles over Arthur as he reads through the text below it. The sorcerer from the closet is quite obviously the same one who snuck into the meeting; the design on the paper confirms Arthur's suspicion about that. Until a few days ago, Arthur would have automatically dismissed this article as lies and slander, but after seeing the pictures Morgana showed him, he decides he's going to find out the truth for himself.

Morgana is still watching him, and when he reaches the end of the article he raises his eyes to meet hers. He's not entirely sure what she sees on his face, but her eyes widen and for a moment she looks frightened.

Opening the paper to the middle, Arthur quietly and carefully tears along the seam, until just past where the design on the front ends. He then folds both sides of the top in, pressing down along the crease so that when he closes the paper all that can be seen is the main article.

"Father," Arthur says, proud of himself when his voice doesn't waver. He holds the paper out in Uther's direction, unsurprised when he doesn't even get a flicker of interest. "Is this true?"

"Hmm?" Uther says, flipping a page in his own paper. "Is what true?"

Arthur clenches his teeth together. "This right here that I'm holding. Is it true?"

Uther finally looks over at him, one eyebrow carefully raised. He eyes Arthur for a moment and then folds his paper with a put-upon sigh, setting it down beside his plate before taking the one Arthur is holding out to him. "What is it, some sort of rag? You know those are full of—"

He cuts off abruptly, staring down at the paper in his hand. His eyes start flickering across the page, and Arthur holds his breath as he waits for a reaction. A large part of him hopes that his father will deny it, will provide some sort of proof to the contrary, but a different, louder part of him already knows that isn't going to happen.

As he reads, Uther's face slowly turns a blotchy red and purple. "That little –" He breaks off, free hand curling into a tight fist. "This is what that bastard sorcerer was doing at the gala – this is why he attacked me! He knew he wasn't going to be allowed to continue on with his twisted way of doing things, and his magic-corrupted brain thought that killing me would stop it from happening. And now he's printed the whole goddamned plan!"

Arthur's stomach drops. "So it's true?" he asks for the third time, somehow needing to hear the words. "The meeting, the transcription of it – the plan to get rid of the magical population. It's all true?"

"Of course it's true, Arthur," Uther snaps, and every tiny bit of hope Arthur has shatters into nothing. "And the fact that they printed it all is a prime example of why. They think they can do whatever the hell they want, and that telling everyone will somehow stop it from happening." His eyes go cold and hard, and he tosses the paper onto the table, pointing at it. "This article has done nothing but push up the timeline for full illegalization of magic. I'm going to find out who this is, and he's going to be one of the first ones eliminated."

Arthur doesn't say anything as Uther pushes back from the table and stalks from the room, slamming the door behind him. As soon as he's gone Morgana snatches up the paper and starts to read; Arthur watches her, a hollow ache in his chest as her face twists into an expression of horror and pain. He feels frozen to his chair, his brain unable to comprehend the amount of hatred his father truly possesses for magic and the people who use it.

"Oh my god," Morgana whispers, the first words she's spoken all morning. She looks up at Arthur and there are tears in her eyes. "Do you see, now?" she asks, voice shaking. "Do you see the kind of man he's become?"

"He's wrong," Arthur says simply, and her eyes spill over, tears coursing down her face. He takes a deep breath. "I want to help you."

Morgana stares at him. "You want to help?"

Arthur nods, struggling to find the right words. "Yes. I want to – to help you save…I want to help."

Morgana swallows and sets down the paper to wipe at her face. "It's dangerous," she says quietly. "And will probably be even more so now."

"I know," Arthur says. "But I can't just sit back and do nothing, not when I know what I do now. We can't stop him, he's already set everything into motion and we're not powerful enough people. But I have to do whatever I can. Rescue missions, recon, anything you need."

Morgana takes a deep breath, and then nods sharply. "Okay. You can help. But until you know what you're doing it'll have to be with me or Morgause along for the ride."

Arthur reaches across the table to pick up the paper. "When do we start?"

*

Morgana gives him just enough time to get dressed before she's dragging him out the door and into her car. The design that was on the paper has been torn out and is currently in Arthur's front jeans pocket. He's not entirely sure why he's keeping it, other than it being the only connection he has to the man in the closet, the man he can't get out of his head no matter how hard he tries – the man his father now wants to kill.

His chest tightens almost painfully, and Arthur scowls; he has no bloody reason to be worried about a man he doesn't even know. It's completely ridiculous.

Forcefully pushing those thoughts away, Arthur watches the passing scenery from behind his aviators as they leave the main city and head in the direction of a sparsely populated area. The top is down again, the wind harsh against his face, and Arthur welcomes the sting of it. Morgana is silent next to him, the line of her jaw tense and her knuckles almost white on the steering wheel.

They drive for a good half-hour before she finally pulls onto a dirt path hidden by thick trees and tall grass. It's just wide enough for her car, and they follow it until it ends at a clearing, a small house sitting in the middle. It's old, the paint faded and peeling along the outside walls and a rickety set of steps leading to a screen door.

"Is this where we were?" Arthur asks as Morgana stops the car and puts it into park, killing the engine.

"Yes," she answers, grabbing the paper from where she'd set it on the seat between them and opening her door. "This is our safe house. Morgause should be inside."

Arthur climbs from the car and follows her at a slower pace as she hurries inside. He's not really looking forward to seeing Morgause again, though he knows he'll have to get over that since he's going to be working with her for the foreseeable future. His stomach clenches at that thought; how long is this thing going to last? How many years is he going to have to fight? The magic users can't possibly be treated like this forever, can they?

Arthur climbs the steps and opens the door Morgana has disappeared through, finding himself in what is obviously the main room of the house. The walls are covered in old, faded wallpaper, and the wooden floors creak under his feet. There's a big, dusty fireplace on the left side of the room, with a painting of a country scene on the wall above it and windows on either side. A lumpy-looking pale green couch is facing the door, and to the right is an arched doorway leading to a hallway.

Morgana and Morgause are standing beside the sofa, talking in low voices. Morgause is clutching the paper tightly, scowling, and Arthur slides his hands into his pockets as he waits, feeling uncomfortable and out of place. His fingers brush the folded bit of paper with the design on it, and somehow that makes him feel just a touch better. Finally, Morgause glances over at him, her expression unreadable.

"Morgana says you are going to help us," she states, eyeing him carefully.

"I am."

Morgause raises an eyebrow. "Are you prepared to do whatever is necessary to ensure success?" Her mouth twists into a smile that almost looks cruel. "Before you answer, consider what that means. It is entirely possible that you will have to kill others, especially now that your father has decided to wage a full-on war against magic users."

Kill. Arthur feels the blood drain from his face; he hadn't considered that possibility, actually, and the thought of taking another person's life makes him sick to his stomach.

Morgause nods, not looking the least bit surprised at his reaction. "That's what I thought," she murmurs quietly. Handing the paper back to Morgana, she steps closer and looks him directly in the eye. "The way I see it, Arthur, you have three choices. One, leave here and go join your father's side –"

"That's not an option," Arthur says hotly, glaring at her.

Morgause smiles, slow and smug. "Then you have two choices: remain neutral, and do nothing for either your father or magic users, or fight with us and accept the fact that you may have to do things you don't like, horrible, terrible things that will break your heart and darken your soul."

Arthur stares at her for a long moment, heart racing and thoughts jumbling to near incoherency. Only one thing is clear in his mind, and it's pictures of tortured people, of children being ripped from their mothers' arms, of dark hair and bright blue eyes flaring gold. There's no real choice, not really, and he knows it like he knows his own name.

"I'm going to fight," Arthur says. "And I'm going to do what I have to do, but I'm not going to do it thoughtlessly or carelessly. I'm going to do it when there is literally no other option, and I refuse to let it make me bitter and heartless."

"So innocent and naïve." Morgause smirks, and Arthur utterly hates her in that moment. "The authorities have discovered a small group of sorcerers about an hour north of here. They have plans to raid their safe house tonight, but we're going to get there first and get them out. Are you prepared to come with us?"

Arthur takes a deep breath, and nods.

*

The night is like ink around them; the sky is clouded over, hiding the stars and the moon, and Arthur can barely see his own hand in front of his face. The gun Morgause has given him is shoved into the back of his waistband, his t-shirt covering it. It's cold and hard against his skin, and it makes him shiver with unease.

They've driven for just over an hour in Morgana's car, top up, stopping on a gravel road next to a field of sleeping cows, killing both the engine and the lights. There's a farmhouse in the distance, a soft yellow light shining through one of the downstairs windows. Arthur's heart is pounding his chest, blood roaring in his ears, and he wonders almost hysterically if he should be wearing all black stealth-type clothes instead of the dark blue t-shirt and stone-washed jeans he has on.

"This way," Morgause whispers, leading the way along the fence at the edge of the gravel road.

Morgana and Arthur follow her silently, and Arthur can't help but glance over his shoulder every two seconds. The authorities are supposed to show up any time now, and Arthur feels certain that they're going to get caught. He shudders at the thought of actually having to use his gun, and ignores the glance Morgana sends him.

When they've nearly reached the farm house, Morgause pauses mid-step and indicates for them to stop. Arthur's heart skips and then bursts into a hard race, and he looks around wildly for the authorities. He sees nothing but heavy darkness, however, and drags in a sharp, shallow breath, clenching his hands into fists. If he doesn't gain some control over his jittery nerves he's going to end up making a complete fool of himself, and possibly ruining the entire mission.

Morgause whispers something, the words twisting over themselves as they spill out into the night. Her eyes flash, not the bright gold of the man in the closet, but a reddish-gold color. Nothing seems to happen, and Arthur frowns, opening his mouth to ask what the hell she's doing. A sudden grip on his arm stops him, and he glances in surprise at Morgana. She shakes her head sharply, and points at the farm house. Turning to look, Arthur blinks when he sees the light in the downstairs window go out. A few seconds later a scraping sound echoes faintly through the air, and a frightened voice carries over to them.

"Who's there?"

Morgause snorts. "Idiots," she says quietly to Arthur and Morgana. "If we had been the enemy, they would have just given themselves away." She steps forward and raises her voice just enough to be heard. "We are friends, and fellow sorcerers. It was I who turned off your light."

Silence meets this declaration, and then, "Come inside. And hurry."

By now Arthur's eyes have adjusted enough to the darkness that he can mostly see where he's going. He follows Morgause and Morgana to the front door of the farm house, slipping inside behind them when it opens. There's a faint light coming from a windowless hallway, illuminating two men and a woman, all of them looking frightened and angry.

"Who are you?" one of the men asks, stepping slightly in front of the others. "Why are you here?"

"We're here to help you," Morgause says. "There's a group of authorities coming this way, with plans to invade this home and arrest you all. You have to get out, and you have to do it now."

"Why should we believe you?" the woman asks, dark, dirty hair falling across her eyes. "You could be working for them for all we know."

"We're not," Morgana says, voice soothing. "If we were, why would we be trying to convince you otherwise? We would just take you in."

The woman scowls. "You might be trying to trick us so we don't use our magic against you."

"Sorcerers don't work for the other side," Morgause says, voice suddenly hard. "I turned your light off while I was standing in your yard; I can do more once we leave if you want proof that much. But time is short and passing quickly, so if there's to be any chance of escaping you must come with us right this moment."

The three sorcerers look at each other warily, and then turn back to Morgause.

"We'll come with you," the second man says. "But if you're lying to us, we won't hesitate to ensure our own survival."

A chill goes down Arthur's spine, but Morgause nods in satisfaction. "As it should be. We have much to tell you once we're far away from any immediate danger."

There's apparently nothing of value in the house, because the three of them start for the door. Morgause leads the way out, turning in the direction of where they left the car. Morgana follows just behind the three, and Arthur trails after them all, feeling completely out of place and more than a bit scared. The night is silent around them except for the loud chirp of crickets and the rustle of the wind through the grass. A cow moos somewhere out in the field, and Arthur does his best not to show how it startles him.

When they reach Morgana's car, the three sorcerers jam themselves into the backseat, and Arthur squeezes in next to Morgana in the front. Morgause slides behind the wheel, shutting her door and starting the engine. She keeps the lights off as she turns the car around in the middle of the gravel road, heading back in the direction they had come from. When they've driven for a good fifteen minutes, she finally flips the switch for the headlights.

"So how did you know where to find us?" the woman suddenly asks, as though the lights are a signal to start talking. "And how did you know they were going to raid us tonight?"

"I have eyes and ears everywhere," Morgause answers, which isn't much of an answer at all. "It's what I do; I have to know these things so that I can help as many as I can."

"So you are all sorcerers, too?" asks the first man who had spoken at the farm house.

Arthur tenses.

"My sister and I are," Morgause says, keeping her eyes on the road in front of her. "Her brother is not."

Arthur's gut twists in the beat of silence that follows, and before he can even begin to say anything he feels a hot tightness at his throat, cutting off his breath. He tries to protest but all that comes out is a choked noise, and his hands fly up to his neck to grasp desperately at nothing but air. He can't breathe, and his head falls back as his fingers scrabble at his throat, back arching and chest tightening as his lungs begin to burn at the lack of oxygen.

"Stop, stop!" Morgana cries, sounding terrified, twisting in her seat next to Arthur and clutching at his t-shirt. "Let him go!"

"You said you weren't working for them," the second man growls angrily.

The pressure on his throat increases, and Arthur's vision goes blurry, his foot coming up to slam into the dashboard. Panic threatens to help his attacker along, and as his eyes drift closed he wonders if the man from the closet would ever try to kill someone just because they weren't a sorcerer.

"We aren't," Morgause says calmly, and Arthur barely hears her through the blood rushing in his ears. "And if you release him, Arthur might be willing to explain why he's helping us."

For a second nothing happens, but then the pressure finally eases off, allowing Arthur to gasp in several desperately needed gulps of air. He can still feel the magic around his throat, but it's more of a warning now than an immediate danger.

The second man leans forward and breathes on the side of Arthur's face. "Why are you here? You aren't a sorcerer."

Arthur drags in another deep breath, chest hurting from the effort. "Because," he wheezes, swallowing painfully. He twists in his seat and glares at the man behind him. "Not every non-magic person is bent on your destruction. What's happening is wrong, and I'm not going to just sit back and watch without doing whatever I can to help."

The man stares at him for a long moment, scowling fiercely, until finally the woman touches his elbow and says, "Mike, that's enough. He's on our side."

Slowly, the man – Mike – eases back in his seat, the magic around Arthur's neck decreasing in small increments until it's finally completely gone. Arthur's hand comes up to rub at his throat, and he can't help but wonder if there will be bruises. Turning back to face the front, he sinks down in his own seat, closing his eyes and taking slow, aching breaths. His hands are shaking, and he twists them into the denim of his jeans to try and hide it. He's never been more scared in his entire f*cking life, and he can't wait to get as far away from these three sorcerers as he can.

*

When they reach the safe house there's a black SUV parked just within the clearing. Arthur tenses at seeing it, but Morgana reaches over to touch his knee, shaking her head slightly. He scowls, but doesn't say anything as the six of them climb from the car. Morgause immediately walks to the new vehicle, signaling for the rest of them to follow. The driver's side door opens and a woman with dark hair and shockingly blue eyes steps out, eyeing them all coolly. Her gaze lands on Arthur and sharpens, eyebrows raising slightly as she takes him in.

She turns to Morgause. "You said there would only be three. It's all I prepared for."

"There is," Morgause responds, not sounding at all bothered. "This is Arthur Pendragon. I'm sure you've heard of him?"

The woman narrows her eyes. "What is he doing here?"

"He's helping," Morgana answers, and Arthur doesn't miss the way she angles herself between them.

The woman apparently doesn't either, because her lips twist slightly into a smile that could possibly be called mocking. "Relax, love," she says, and Morgana stiffens. "I won't hurt him unless he tries to hurt me first." She glances over at the sorcerers, who are staring warily at her. "Are these the ones, then?"

"Yes," Morgause answers, turning to them and gesturing to the woman. "This is Nimueh. You have my word that you can trust her; she's going to be taking you somewhere far away and much safer than this."

The three glance nervously between them, and the smile Nimueh gives them is much more pleasant and reassuring than the one she gave Morgana. "It's alright. I promise I won't take you anywhere you don't want to go."

After a moment the three nod to each other and move toward the SUV. Arthur steps out of their way, watching them carefully until they've disappeared into the backseat and closed the door behind them.

"Be careful," Morgause tells Nimueh in a low, worried voice. "They're very skittish at the moment, and almost killed Arthur. Don't let them think you are any sort of threat."

"I can handle them," Nimueh says, and it almost sounds warm as she places a hand on Morgause's arm. She squeezes lightly and then turns to look at Arthur. "I guess you're tougher than you look, then. Most would be running far away at the threat of death. Keep it up and you may make a decent fighter for us."

Something in her tone makes Arthur bristle. "I'll remember that," he says stiffly, and Nimueh looks amused.

"I'm sure you will." She turns to Morgause. "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as we get there."

Leaning forward, she gives Morgause a quick kiss, and then turns and climbs into the SUV. The engine starts, and the three of them stand there and watch as it turns around and heads back out of the clearing. As soon as it's gone Morgause spins on her heel and stalks toward the house, climbing the steps and disappearing inside. Morgana follows her, shoulders stiff, and Arthur trails after them both.

"Why does she always have to treat me like a child?" Morgana snaps as soon as they're inside. "I'm your sister, and I think I deserve at least a little respect."

"She likes you," Morgause says, leading them through the living room and down the hall. "That's just the way Nim is, you know this."

Morgana huffs. "She does it on purpose, just to irritate me."

"Which means she likes you," Morgause repeats as they walk through another doorway and into the kitchen. "If she didn't she would just be rude. Besides, she knows how much you mean to me."

"You call that not rude?" Morgana asks, sounding exasperated.

"Excuse me," Arthur interrupts loudly. "But what the f*ck just happened?"

They both turn to look at him.

"That was a mission," Morgana says, raising one eyebrow. "I thought we were clear on that."

Arthur scowls. "You know what I mean," he says darkly. "We were supposed to be rescuing them – they needed help. And then one of them tries to f*cking kill me!"

Morgause snorts and grabs the kettle from the cook top, taking it over to the sink to fill with water. "What did you expect, happy sorcerers who would show you a few magic tricks for your entertainment?"

"Of course not," Arthur snaps. "But I didn't think they'd be insane f*ckers, either."

Morgause slams the now-full kettle back onto the cook top and rounds on him, eyes blazing with anger. "They were protecting themselves," she says, tightly controlled fury in her voice. "What reason did they have to trust us? We were complete strangers to them."

"We were there to help – "

"Arthur," Morgana interrupts. "Try to think about this from their point of view. They've probably been on the run for months, quite possibly even years. Death threats are common for known sorcerers, and most of them have lost loved ones due to people they thought they could trust turning them in. Survival has become nothing more than basic instinct for many of them – kill or be killed."

Arthur makes a frustrated noise, running one hand through his hair. "I just…don't understand. All of this, everything that's happening. Why are some magic users being hunted down like animals but others are living what appears to be peacefully out in the open?"

"Because they need examples on both sides," Morgause says, and the anger in her voice has faded to exhaustion. "Magic is still technically legal, so they have to make sure there are enough of us left alone to create the illusion of acceptance and law-abidance. On the other side of it, they want us to know our place, they want us to see what's going to happen to us. You know what they're working towards, Arthur, but until they get there they can't legally go after every magic user that exists. So they pick and choose."

"Pretty soon they won't have to pick and choose," Morgana says quietly.

Arthur's gut twists, and he doesn't say anything as he lets Morgause's words sink in. It makes him sick to think of how long he went without knowing what was really happening everywhere around him, of how he lived such a privileged, carefree life just because he had never bothered to look past what he was told at face value.

"Having second thoughts?" Morgause asks, challenge clear in her voice. "I don't blame you; you did almost lose your life, and first missions are often a big shock to…well. People like you."

Arthur grits his teeth and glares. "If you think I'm going to change my mind because of one attack, then you've got it completely backwards," he says tightly. "I'm more determined than ever to do my part to help, which means I'm going to be around a lot more often; you're just going to have to get over it and accept the fact that I'm here to stay."

"Good," Morgause says, lips twisting into a smug smile. "Make sure you have plenty of excuses ready for your father, because missions are never predictable."

She turns and walks from the room, leaving the kettle full of cold water on the cook top. Arthur stares after her and then turns to Morgana. "She's insane. Completely mad."

"No, she isn't," Morgana says, walking to the stove and turning on the burner beneath the kettle. "She's just trying to make sure you're making the right decision."

Arthur huffs in irritation. "I think I know my own mind, thanks."

"It's not about that." Morgana turns back to him, her expression as serious as he's ever seen it. "You can't go into these missions with any doubt, Arthur. You have to know to expect danger and possible death, you have to know exactly why you're doing this and you have to agree with it one-hundred and fifty percent. What happened tonight was scary, but it was also easy. At least half of our missions end up with someone dying, and often times it's more than one person. Sometimes we lose people, sometimes the other side does, and sometimes it's so bad we barely escape with our own lives, much less the lives of the ones we're trying to save."

Arthur isn't quite sure what to say. His throat is still raw from where the magic had wrapped around it earlier, and nothing about that feels easy. At the same time, he understands what Morgana is trying to tell him: it's just going to get harder from here on out.

"I'm here," he finally says. "And I'm not going anywhere. I have absolutely no illusions about how hard this is going to be, especially after tonight. I can handle it." He quirks a smile in her direction. "I'm tougher than I look, you know."

Morgana huffs out a short laugh, rolling her eyes. "I certainly hope so," she says, but there's an unmistakable fondness to the words. "Arse."

"Harpy," Arthur returns without heat, and then steps closer to pull her into a tight hug. "We'll be alright," he says into her hair. "We're in this together now; you don't have to hide anything else from me. I'm going to be here, fighting with you. We'll make it through."

Morgana sighs, shuddering slightly. "I hope you're right."

Arthur closes his eyes and hopes along with her. Whatever happens from this point onward, he's in it for good.

Not for the first time, Merlin is both grateful and annoyed that Will and Freya live so far away from the main city. Without even a bicycle to his name, it's a f*cking long walk back home, and feels even longer in the dead of night. It keeps the two of them better hidden, though, especially now that Merlin has added a few of his newly-learned protection spells to their home and surrounding property. They aren't the best spells, or the strongest, but they're good enough for now and better than nothing.

The five months since the gala and the printing of Uther's plan in the news journal have been nothing short of hell. Not a single thing about the plan's execution has been done slowly; there are daily news reports of sorcerers being arrested for illegal use of magic, and most of the stories are twisted to make them look as though they are truly dangerous and not just heating their goddamned bathwater. There's been an early curfew put into place for magic users only, and if any are caught after dark they're immediately arrested.

Merlin, of course, makes it his prerogative to sneak out at night at least twice a week, just as a general f*ck you to the government.

The factory where they printed the news journal had been raided three months ago, fortunately while none of them had been there, and as angry as they all are about it, they've agreed that at this point it's far too dangerous to try starting up again. There are more and more sorcerers being captured and less and less being left alone to live their lives. There's a list of top-wanted sorcerers, posters of their names tacked to trees and taped up in shop windows. Merlin's heard the rumors, and knows he'll be the very first one listed if Uther ever manages to discover his name. After the factory raid, he'd never been more grateful that none of them had kept anything truly identifying there.

He hasn't heard a single thing about Arthur, and it's incredibly disconcerting. He would think that Arthur would have told Uther about the design on the news journal matching the design on the bracelet of the sorcerer from the gala, but there hasn't been anything. Either Arthur is too ashamed to admit to his father that he had sex with a magic user, or he's keeping Merlin's secret, which makes no sense to Merlin whatsoever. Why would Arthur not try to help catch the man who outed them?

Scowling, Merlin shoves his hands into the pockets on his hoodie and ducks through the shadows of the houses lining a road just outside the city. Most of them are abandoned, and the few that aren't are occupied by the rare sort of people who are either magic-friendly or just don't give a f*ck.

Slipping around a dark corner beneath a blown street lamp, Merlin hears a noise that seems somehow out of place. Freezing, he glances around the empty street, a shiver of something not-quite-fear sliding its way down his spine. He whispers the invisibility spell, the magic tingling along his skin as it immediately takes effect. It's not often he uses this spell anymore, preferring to make his f*ck you as real as possible instead of cheating by having it seem like he's not actually there anyway.

The noise comes again, from the area around the house to his left. Stepping carefully over the broken concrete of the sidewalk, Merlin slowly makes his way through the high grass of the small front yard to the dark, shadowy space between that house and the one next to it. He knows something is there, and while logic tells him it's probably just a stray cat or dog, instinct and his sparking magic tell him it's something entirely different, something vaguely familiar.

Dodging a turned-over garbage bin, Merlin makes his way toward the back of the house and stops at the corner, peering around the edge and into the backyard. It's a mixture of shadows and dim light from the quarter moon, and as he watches, one of the shadows shifts and moves, taking on a distinctly human shape. Narrowing his eyes, Merlin watches as the shadow-person moves quickly and quietly across the backyard, keeping to the dark spaces for as long as possible. After a few moments, however, the shadows end and there's nothing left but moonlight between them and the house. The person stops, seeming to hesitate, and then steps out into the moonlight, hurrying across the yard.

Merlin bites back a startled gasp, nearly choking in shock as his eyes go wide, because holy f*ck, it's Arthur.

He's frozen for a long moment, watching as Arthur makes his way to the back of the house. What the f*ck is he doing here? Merlin scowls, glancing up at the back of the small two-story house. There's a light on in one of the broken top windows, almost directly below a collapsed section of roof, and his stomach twists as he realizes that this is supposed to be one of the abandoned houses on this street.

There are magic users inside, it's the only explanation, and Arthur f*cking Pendragon is trying to sneak his way in. There's only one reason that Merlin can see for him doing that, and a near-blinding rage fills him at the thought that Arthur must be here to catch them out.

Throwing his hand out in Arthur's direction, Merlin whispers a spell under his breath, watching in grim satisfaction as Arthur stumbles over nothing but air and lands face first on the ground with a quiet grunt. Merlin clenches his jaw and ends the invisibility spell, not bothering to keep to any shadows as he strides over to where Arthur is pushing himself up, a scowl on his face.

"What the absolute f*ck do you think you're doing?" Merlin bites out, automatically keeping his voice low in the night-time darkness.

Arthur's head snaps up, eyes going wide and shocked, and before Merlin can blink he's scrambling all the way to his feet and clamping one hand over Merlin's mouth, the other gripping the back of his neck. Merlin makes a noise of protest, trying to twist his way free even as his fingers tingle with barely-checked magic.

"Shut up, shut up," Arthur hisses, tightening his grip and pushing Merlin the rest of the way across the yard to the shadows beside the house. Merlin's back hits the wall and he makes another noise, muffled by Arthur's hand. His glare is met with panicked blue eyes. "They'll hear you, goddamn it, shut up."

Merlin childishly sticks out his tongue and licks over the palm of Arthur's hand, and just as he'd hoped, Arthur snatches his hand away, grimacing. "Who will hear?" Merlin snaps angrily. "The magic users you're trying to raid?"

"No, you f*cking half-wit," Arthur nearly growls, eyes blazing. "The guards who have been hired to keep magic users imprisoned in this house. Now shut up."

Merlin stares at him; he couldn't possibly have heard that correctly.

There's a sudden noise in the direction Merlin had just come from, and Arthur goes tense, slowly crowding him back against the wall of the house, pressing his body flush against Merlin's. His hand is still on the back of Merlin's neck, fingers digging into his skin, and it's all Merlin can do to keep his breathing steady. The noise comes again, and this time it's followed by quiet voices.

"I know I bloody saw something. And it wasn't no f*cking dog, neither."

"Did I say it was a dog? This neighborhood's crawling with f*cking sorcerers; it was probably one of them trying to get home after curfew without being caught."

"Think the bugger's still around? I'd like to catch 'em and add 'em to the lot inside. Never enough being shipped out, in my opinion."

"Nah, he's probably long gone by now. We should probably check around the yard, though, just to cover our own arses."

"Alright, but let's hurry it up. I've plans for that red-headed girl tonight."

The other one laughs and Merlin shudders, using every ounce of will power he has not to break free and blast the two bastards into pieces. Arthur is tense against him, breath heavy and tightly controlled, and Merlin gets the distinct impression that he's not the only one with murderous thoughts at the moment.

Arthur suddenly brushes his mouth against Merlin's ear and barely breathes out, "Can you make us both invisible?"

Merlin swallows, and shakes his head. "It only works on the caster," he whispers back as quietly as he can. "I've tried using it on other people, and nothing happens."

The two men are getting closer, and Merlin can feel panic start to tighten his chest. He's pinned to the wall by Arthur, unable to move, and can't use magic to break free and run without drawing attention to both of them. He could use it to distract the other two, but there's no guarantee that Arthur will let him go. And if he's being completely honest, there's no guarantee he'll even let himself go, not when there are magic users trapped and being abused inside the house.

"Can't you do something?" Arthur hisses. "Make them look in the opposite direction, maybe?"

Merlin glares at the side of Arthur's head but raises his hand just enough to aim, whispering a spell, his breath ghosting across Arthur's ear. There's a clatter on the other side of the yard as a pile of wood tumbles down, and the two men snap their heads around towards it. They glance at each other and then both slowly pull out guns, moving carefully through the shadows to where the wood is now scattered about.

Arthur had turned his head after Merlin whispered the spell, and is watching the two closely. As soon as their backs are completely turned he grabs Merlin's wrist and starts to run, dragging him toward the opposite side of the house Merlin had come from. It's easier and probably safer just to go along with him, and they manage to keep to the shadows of the house as they turn the corner, neither of them making a single sound.

Arthur stops as soon as they're halfway down the side of the house, his hand tightening around Merlin's wrist as he turns to look him dead in the eye. "I'm going to get these people out and take them somewhere safe. I could use your help, if you're willing to trust me."

"Of course I don't trust you," Merlin scoffs, keeping his voice low as he glances toward the back of the house. "But I can't just walk away." He looks back at Arthur, raising his chin challengingly. "I'm willing to work with you to get them out, but if I find out you're lying and are just trying to get me inside, I won't hesitate to do what needs to be done to save myself and them."

"Fair enough," Arthur says after a moment. "Come on, then, let's find a way in."

"Already found," Merlin says dryly, and at Arthur's narrowed eyes he points to a low window near the ground. "It probably leads to the basem*nt. There was a light on in one of the top windows in the back, so they're most likely not down there."

Grimacing slightly, Arthur crouches down next to the window and peers inside. "It's too dark to see, but it's probably the best way in. We'll just have to risk it."

Merlin doesn't really like the sound of that, but to create any sort of light to see inside would likely gain the attention of the two men in the back yard – who are getting closer, if the sound of their angry voices is any indicator. Kneeling down next to Arthur, Merlin places his hands on the window and tries to push it open. It doesn't move, and he curses under his breath.

"f*ck," Arthur bites out. "What now, then? We wait much longer we're going to have to run."

Merlin snorts. "I'm magic, or have you forgotten? Just hold on a second."

He holds his hand out and whispers a spell, quickly reaching to catch the window when the glass and frame both fall away from the wall around it. Leaning it carefully against the side of the house, he shoots Arthur a smug, triumphant grin. Arthur rolls his eyes, ruining the vaguely impressed look that had been on his face, but Merlin doesn't care.

"Hurry up and get inside," Arthur orders irritably. "They're going to catch us and then it'll all go to sh*t."

Merlin's grin immediately disappears. "No," he says, voice as hard as he can make it. "I told you I don't trust you, so you're going first."

Arthur scowls, but moves toward the open space anyway. "Fine," he snaps. "Are you always this goddamned difficult?"

"Yep," Merlin answers, and waits until Arthur has dropped down out of sight before following him in.

The basem*nt is dark and chilly, and as soon as his feet hit the floor Merlin turns and reaches back outside for the window, carefully sliding it over to cover the open space. He balances it in place and whispers the counter-spell, watching closely to make sure it seals back correctly. Once it has he turns back around, unable to see much of anything in the dark.

"Arthur?" Merlin whispers cautiously.

"Right here," Arthur says quietly, close enough to make Merlin jump. "How is it that you know my name but I don't know yours?"

"Everybody knows your name," Merlin points out. "And you don't know mine because I haven't told it to you."

"I realize that," Arthur says, voice sounding tightly controlled. "Are you seriously that dense or are you being purposely obtuse?"

"I've no idea what you're talking about," Merlin deadpans, and because it's dark he goes ahead and grins at Arthur's annoyed huff. "Now are we going to just stand around here chit-chatting or are we going to go upstairs and save these people?"

There's a sudden noise outside the window, and Merlin feels Arthur's hand close around his elbow just before he's dragged back against the wall. He bites back the automatic protest at being manhandled again, pressing his back flat to the cold stone. The voices that come from just outside are muffled, but it's obviously the same two men, and Arthur's hand tightens on his elbow.

"There's nothing out here. Whoever it was is long gone."

"Too bad. I was looking forward to fresh meat."

"Come on; let's get back inside before Ted and Larry eat all the pizza and we're left with prisoner food."

Merlin twists his head around to look up and out the window, clenching his jaw as two shadowed pairs of standard military-type boots walk by. As soon as they're out of site he turns to where Arthur is beside him, hand still gripping his elbow. "They've gone towards the front of the house. Let's hope Ted and Larry are the only other two around."

"We need to be able to see how to get out of here," Arthur says. "I've got a small torch in my pocket, but it's really bright. I'd rather not use it if there's another way."

Merlin snorts, rolling his eyes. "Is that your way of asking me to use my magic?"

"I'm just saying –"

"You're not, actually," Merlin interrupts, voice flat, but immediately follows those words with a short, easy spell. A small ball of blue light appears in his hand, casting just enough light for them to see the stairs on the other side of the basem*nt. The rest of the room is mostly empty, with just a few boxes shoved against a far wall. There's nothing in between them and the stairs, so Merlin ends the spell, the light disappearing and leaving them in darkness once again.

"Stay close," Arthur orders, releasing Merlin's elbow.

Merlin almost asks how he's supposed to do that when he can't see a bloody thing, but then he hears Arthur's footsteps heading in the direction of the stairs and grimaces. Pushing off the wall, Merlin follows behind Arthur, stepping carefully despite knowing there's nothing in the way. After a few moments he hears the creak of the bottom stair, so he isn't caught off guard when his foot hits the wood.

They try to climb up as quietly as they can, but most of the steps creak under their feet. By the time they finally reach the top, Merlin's heart is pounding in his chest and he half expects the basem*nt door to be flung open and guns aimed at their faces. Nothing happens, however, and he lets out a quiet breath. There's a dim light shining under the bottom of the door, and Merlin can vaguely see Arthur as he leans his ear against the wood.

"I don't hear anything," Arthur whispers.

"They're probably waiting on the other side for us to stick our heads out so they can blow them off," Merlin mutters.

Arthur snorts. "Don't get scared on me now. We've come this far, no point in backing out."

"I didn't say I was scared," Merlin snaps. "I've been through more sh*t than you can even begin to imagine, so you could at least have enough respect to not call me a coward."

Arthur is silent for a moment. "I don't think you're a coward," he finally says, voice quiet and honest. He clears his throat. "But, uh. If we don't hurry up they really will find us and then we'll have a bit of a mess to clean up."

"Right," Merlin agrees quickly, and he's glad that it's too dark to see Arthur's face, because that means it's too dark for Arthur to see his. "Let's go, then."

There's another beat of silence and then Merlin hears the quiet click of the door being opened, and the light from the other side pours into the dark space they're standing in. Arthur eases out just enough to look around, and then glances back at Merlin, nodding once. Merlin follows him as he steps all the way out, and finds that they're in a dimly-lit, dusty hallway. He carefully shuts the door behind him, trying to stay as quiet as he possibly can.

When he turns back it's to see Arthur with a gun in his hands. Merlin freezes in place, his blood running cold, but then he realizes that Arthur isn't even looking at him. He's moving down the hallway, staying close to the wall, and after a few steps he glances back at Merlin and frowns, gesturing for him to follow. Merlin swallows but starts after him, keeping one eye on the gun as his magic slides dangerously along his palm and into his fingers.

There are voices coming from somewhere nearby, but they're too muffled for Merlin to be able to make the words out. Arthur stops at a corner at the end of the hallway, opposite a set of stairs, and reaches into his pocket with one hand to pull out what looks like a small mirror, holding it at just the right angle to see around the corner. Stepping up to Arthur's back, Merlin leans his head over Arthur's shoulder so he can see the reflection as well, bracing himself with one hand against the wall.

Four men are sitting around a rickety, 1950's style Formica table in what is obviously the kitchen, playing some sort of card game. Empty beer bottles and pizza boxes are scattered around, and the suffocating stench of cigarette smoke hangs thickly in the air. Merlin scowls, wrinkling his nose; he hates cigarettes.

"So how long are we supposed to be here?" one of them asks, and Merlin recognizes his voice from outside. "It's been a week already; this is the longest we've ever been in one place."

"The boss called while you two were gallivanting around the yard, actually," another one says, taking a long drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out in a little black ash tray. "We're leaving tomorrow night, and taking the four upstairs to the Striker facility. We'll get our next assignments there."

"Good thing it's not tonight, then," the other one who had been outside says, a filthy smirk crossing his face. "Ricky here is wanting a piece of that red head."

The first one who had spoken laughs loudly. "Damn right, I do. She might be a bloody sorceress but a warm c*nt is still a warm c*nt, and my poor co*ck's about to fall off from misuse."

"Or maybe it's finally realized how pathetic it is and decided to just give up," the second man says, and the other two laugh.

"Actually," the fourth man says, taking a drink from his beer bottle, "I've been thinking about trying out that red head myself. She's got such a mouth on her, I'd like to stuff it full just to make her shut up."

The third one snorts. "Why don't we just gang her, then? She'll be dead in two days anyway. She's probably still a virgin; we can at least give her one good time before she snuffs it."

"I like the way you think, mate."

Merlin is shaking, trying as hard as he can to suppress his rage and not blow the entire house up. His hand has curled into a tight fist against the wall, and the other one has come up to twist into the side of Arthur's shirt. He can feel Arthur trembling as well, harsh breaths making his ribs expand and contract beneath Merlin's fingers.

All four of them deserve to die, as slowly and painfully as possible.

Arthur stuffs the mirror back into his pocket, and when he pulls his hand out again there's a golf ball-sized red device held tightly in his fingers. Merlin frowns, but he can't ask what it is without risking being overheard, so he just watches as Arthur uses his thumb to press against a swirled design on the side of the ball. It makes a quiet hissing noise, and then Arthur is pushing him back just enough to be able to crouch down without being seen. In a quick move, he flicks his wrist and sends the ball rolling across the carpeted floor and into the kitchen.

Merlin holds his breath, heart pounding in his chest; he has absolutely no idea what Arthur just did, but from the way the four men continue to talk they haven't noticed anything strange. Arthur straightens and turns his back to the wall, the hard, angry expression on his face perfectly echoing Merlin's own feelings at the moment. He tugs sharply on the sleeve of Arthur's shirt, and when Arthur glances over at him Merlin frowns and nods toward the kitchen. Arthur just shakes his head and holds a finger up to his mouth.

A few seconds later Merlin hears the four men begin to cough and curse in confusion. A couple of the chairs scrape loudly across the floor as hoarse shouts ring out, but before any of them can do anything else there are several bangs and thumps, the cursing and shouting and coughing abruptly coming to an end only moments after they began.

Arthur smirks in obvious satisfaction and twists to look around the corner. He nods shortly and then turns to Merlin. "Come on. I have no idea how long they'll be out for. And cover your nose; the gas shouldn't go too far, but just in case I'm wrong I can't have you passing out on me."

He starts for the stairs and Merlin frowns after him. What the f*ck did he do? Leaning forward, Merlin peeks around the corner, brows drawing together when he sees the four men laid out on the floor, unconscious.

"Come on," Arthur snaps, gripping Merlin's wrist again and dragging him toward the stairs. "We don't have time to just stand around."

"What the hell was that thing?" Merlin asks, pulling his arm free so he won't fall flat on his face trying to climb the stairs. "How did it knock them out like that?"

Arthur doesn't answer immediately, the line of his shoulders tensing. When they reach the landing at the top of the stairs he turns to Merlin, jaw clenched. "That was one of my father's newest inventions," he answers tightly, not meeting Merlin's gaze. "It's like a smoke bomb, I guess, but smaller and more dangerous. He means to use it to catch sorcerers. I stole a few and am using them for things like this." He gestures down the stairs in the direction of the kitchen. "I guess I see it as a kind of 'f*ck you' to him – using his own technology against him."

"Oh," Merlin says, feeling at a complete loss for words. Had he really been that wrong about Arthur all this time?

"Right," Arthur says, sounding uncomfortable. "Can we –?" He gestures down the upstairs hallway.

Merlin clears his throat and glances in the direction Arthur is indicating, towards the back of the house. There's a broken window at the end, a dim light fixture on the ceiling above it, and Merlin realizes that this must be what he saw from outside. "The roof is collapsed on the left," he says, pointing at the last door on that side. "So they're probably in one of the boarded up rooms on the right."

Arthur nods. "Let's start with the one closest and work our way down."

"Wait," Merlin says, grabbing his arm as he starts to move away. Arthur scowls, but Merlin ignores him. "It doesn't make any sense for those four to be the only ones here. Why would they leave sorcerers unattended?"

Arthur grimaces. "Okay," he says, letting out a harsh breath. "Then let's assume there's at least a fifth one where ever they're keeping the magic users."

Merlin frowns, but he knows that's pretty much all they can do at this point. Glancing around cautiously, he follows Arthur, and can't help but think that he would have blasted his way out of this kind of situation by now. What's keeping the sorcerers here if they know they're going to die if they don't escape?

After checking the first three rooms and finding nothing, Merlin is almost surprised when they reach the next to last one and find it locked. He exchanges a look with Arthur, who adjusts his hold on his gun, bringing it up and flipping off the safety. He steps up to the wall next to the door, and Merlin does the same on the other side. At Arthur's nod he raises his hand, letting the magic build up in him for a moment before casting the spell, blasting the door inward. It splinters around the locked doorknob, the hinges creaking ominously as it swings around and crashes into the wall.

Almost immediately gunfire comes from inside the room, and the wall on the opposite side of the hallway is riddled with bullets, plaster flying everywhere. Merlin curses, and reacts on pure instinct, sending a wave of powerful magic into the room. The gunfire stops, and the heavy thump of a falling body can barely be heard over the screams and cries of fear echoing out into the hall.

Merlin drags in a deep, shaky breath, looking over to see Arthur staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face. He stares back defiantly, clenching his hands into fists at his side. Arthur gives a small shake of his head and then carefully glances around the broken doorjamb, walking fully into the room after only a few seconds. Merlin quickly follows, ready to unleash more magic if he needs to.

The room is dark, with only one lamp plugged into an outlet in the corner. The windows are boarded up tightly, and a door on the far side of the room leads to what looks like a small bathroom. The only pieces of furniture in the room are a ratty armchair and two mattresses, both of which are occupied.

A woman wearing the same uniform as the men downstairs is lying face down on the floor, a large gun near her hand. Arthur kicks it away and kneels down, pressing his fingers to her neck. "She's alive," he says, and Merlin lets out a shaky breath.

"Who are you?"

Merlin glances over to where the two mattresses are shoved against a wall. There's a blonde woman on one of them, clearly unconscious, and the second has three kids huddled together on it. The youngest is a little girl around six or seven, tucked between the other two, her big brown eyes staring at Merlin in fear. On one side of her is a boy about eleven or twelve, dark hair falling into his eyes as he shifts his gaze between Merlin and Arthur. On the other side, her arm around both of the younger two, is a girl of no more than fifteen or sixteen, with bright red hair and freckles across her nose.

Merlin feels nauseous; this has to be the girl the guards downstairs were talking about. He exchanges a hard look with Arthur. "We're here to help," he says as soothingly as possible, turning back to the kids. "We're going to get you out of here."

"How do we know we can trust you?" the older girl asks, leaning protectively towards the others. "What if you're working for them?" She gestures toward the woman Merlin had hit with his magic.

"I can promise you," Arthur says, stepping closer and sliding his gun into the back of his jeans' waistband, "that I would never work for people like that. And neither would my friend."

"We're the good guys," Merlin says, quirking his lips into as friendly a smile as he can manage. He gestures toward the woman on the mattress as Arthur moves towards her to check her pulse as well. "Is that your mum?"

"They poisoned her," the little girl whispers, tears filling her eyes. "They said if we did what they wanted they'd make her better."

The older girl scowls, and Merlin gets the distinct impression that she knows they wouldn't have done anything of the sort.

"Are you magic?" the little girl asks Merlin.

"I am indeed," Merlin says, crouching down in front of the three. "Do you want to see?"

She nods, eyes wide, and Merlin grins before rubbing his hands together and then whispering a spell into them. When he opens his hands again there's a bright yellow daffodil nestled in them, and the little girl gasps with delight, reaching out to take it when he hands it over.

"She's still alive," Arthur says, and when Merlin glances over his mouth is in a hard, worried line. "But we need to get her out of here if we want any chance of helping her."

Merlin nods shortly, turning back to the three. "Alright, we've got to go. We're going to have to move fast, because the bad guys are knocked out for now, but we don't know for how much longer."

"You should have killed them," the older girl says, voice hard, and Merlin is hard pressed to disagree when he thinks about what they had planned to do to her.

"I can't walk."

Merlin's eyes snap to the boy's face, noticing for the first time how pale and withdrawn he looks. "Why not?"

"My ankle's broken," he answers, pointing at his right foot.

"They did it," the older girl explains, hatred filling her voice. "Right after they poisoned our mum. Apparently they thought that wasn't enough to keep us under control, so they made sure we would have every reason not to fight."

Merlin closes his eyes, taking several deep breaths to try and calm the rage he feels at her words. A warm hand drops onto his shoulder and squeezes tight, and he doesn't have to look to know it's Arthur.

"Can you carry him?" Arthur asks calmly, and Merlin opens his eyes to nod.

"Yes, of course."

"Good," Arthur continues, dropping his hand and stepping back toward the unconscious woman. "I'll carry the mum, you take the boy –" he nods toward the oldest girl, "– and you can help the little one. We're going to go down the stairs and out the back door. My sister is waiting with her car in the wooded area behind the house; we're going to help the four of you get to somewhere safe."

The older girl glances at her two siblings and then at her mum before turning her gaze back to Arthur and Merlin. "Okay," she says, "but you'd better not be bullsh*tting us."

"I wouldn't dare," Merlin says seriously, and pretends not to notice the way the girl's hands are shaking as she stands and helps her sister up.

Arthur has the mum over his shoulder in a fireman's hold, and he moves to stand by the door as the two girls join him, the older one holding tightly to the younger one's hand and the younger one clutching at the flower Merlin had given her.

Merlin turns to crouch on his heels with his back to the boy. "Come on," he says over his shoulder. "Wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist. I'll support your ankle with magic."

The boy does as he's instructed, muffling a noise of pain against Merlin's shoulder as he stands. Merlin quickly whispers a spell to lift the pressure off the boy's foot, and almost immediately feels him relax against his back, tightening his arms around Merlin's neck.

"Okay," Merlin says to Arthur. "Let's go."

They make their way carefully from the room, hurrying as fast as they can down the hall to the stairs. Merlin can see Arthur grip the mum tighter as he starts down the steps, and does the same with the boy clinging to him. The two girls stay between them, the older one making sure the younger is able to keep up.

At the bottom of the stairs they can see the kitchen, and the four men still passed out on the floor. Merlin catches a glimpse of the older girl's face, at the grim line of her mouth and the way her eyes betray both fear and determination. She's going to be okay, he thinks; she's obviously strong, and will do whatever she needs to do to make sure she and her family survive.

They turn in the opposite direction of the basem*nt door, passing through a short hallway and into a tiny laundry room. There's a door beside the washer, and the older girl slips in front of Arthur to open it. A few stone steps lead into the backyard, and Merlin is more than a little grateful to see that the moonlight has shifted and the area is almost completely dark.

Arthur leads the way across the yard, his steps long and quick. Merlin and the girls hurry after him, the boy trembling against his back. The wooded area behind the house is thick with trees, and Arthur seems to take paths at random while apparently still knowing exactly where he's going.

It takes them just a few minutes to reach a small clearing, and it's only when they do that Arthur's words about his sister waiting truly register. Morgana Pendragon is sitting in the driver's seat of a red convertible, her hair pulled back into a ponytail and her fingernails tapping impatiently on the wheel. When she sees the group of them emerge from the trees she immediately climbs from the car, moving to open the back door.

"You're late," she snaps, and even Merlin can hear the worry behind the anger in her voice. She helps Arthur carefully lower the unconscious mother into the backseat, propping her up so that there's room for everyone. "What happened? I've been waiting for fifteen minutes. And why is she unconscious?" Her eyes land on Merlin and the boy, and her scowl deepens. "Who is he? There were only supposed to be four."

"There were only four," Arthur bites back, and then gestures to Merlin. "He helped me get them out. In all honesty, I probably wouldn't have even made it inside, much less back out, without him. Don't ask me to tell you his name, though, because he refuses to tell it to me." Arthur gestures toward the woman he had just put down. "The mum's been poisoned and the boy's ankle is broken."

Morgana shakes her head, looking Merlin up and down. "Come on and put the boy down next to his mum, then." She gestures toward the older girl. "You'll ride in back with your mum and brother. Your sister will be fine up front between Arthur and me."

"Where are we going?" the girl asks, letting go of the youngest one's hand long enough to help Merlin get her brother into the backseat of the car.

Morgana flicks a glance at Merlin, and then takes the little girl's hand to lead her to the car. "I can't tell you right now. But I promise you it will be somewhere safe."

Merlin barely refrains from rolling his eyes; they don't really know him, after all, and at this point he's fairly convinced that they're not lying about helping this family of sorcerers get to safety. Who knew both Pendragon children would rebel so thoroughly against their father?

He feels a sudden grip on his elbow, and makes a startled noise as Arthur drags him several yards away, stopping to swing around so that they're facing each other, a very small amount of space between them.

"You can't tell anyone what happened tonight," Arthur says fiercely, holding Merlin's gaze. "If my father hears even a hint of a rumor that Morgana and I are helping the magic-users, then he'll do everything in his power to stop us – and he's a very powerful man."

"Relax," Merlin says tightly, twisting his arm free. "I won't tell anyone."

Arthur nods after a moment. "Good."

Merlin does roll his eyes at that. "If that's all, then it's time for me to go. I need a hot shower and a hard sleep."

"Right," Arthur says, suddenly sounding horribly uncomfortable. He hesitates for a moment. "Look –"

"Arthur!" Morgana calls impatiently. "We need to go. These people need treatment, and the guards are probably going to wake up soon."

Arthur frowns and glances over his shoulder. "Two seconds!" He turns back to Merlin, speaking urgently. "Tell me your name."

Merlin shakes his head. "Why? Why is it so important for you to know who I am?"

"It's just –" Arthur makes a frustrated noise, and then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a well-worn piece of folded paper. He opens it and shoves it into Merlin's face, and Merlin's eyes widen as he recognizes the design from the news journal, the same design on his bracelet. Arthur must have torn it from the copy Merlin had sent him. "I've been carrying this around with me every day for the past five and a half months. I haven't told anybody the connection between it and the man who crashed the gala – I haven't told my father a single f*cking thing, I haven't given him the one clue I have about the man he wants to find and murder so badly it's almost all he can talk about. And I'm not going to tell him. Not ever."

"Arthur!"

Arthur ignores Morgana's irritated call. "You've had your mouth around my co*ck," he continues, and Merlin flushes at the reminder. "I just want to know your goddamned name."

Merlin hesitates; he's more than grateful that Arthur has no plans to tell Uther anything about him, but he's still not entirely sure he wants him to know anything else about him. He bites his lip, making a quick decision. "Ten in the morning on Thursday, be at the abandoned train tracks near the old primary school on Fifth. If I meet you there then I'll tell you my name."

Arthur doesn't look at all happy with that, but before he can respond Morgana is at his side, gripping his elbow tightly.

"Oh, for f*ck's sake," she snaps, dragging him back in the direction of the car. "We don't f*cking have time for this, Arthur. Get your head on straight; we've got people we need to take care of."

"I know that, I just –"

Merlin takes a deep breath and whispers the invisibility spell, feeling the magic spread over him. He watches Arthur's eyes go wide; a second later his expression turn stormy and petulant, and he scowls as he pulls his arm from Morgana's fingers, turning and stalking the rest of the way towards the car.

Merlin stands there until they've driven off, leaving him alone in the small clearing. After a few moments he turns in the direction of home, keeping the invisibility spell in place; he's had enough action and danger for one night, and he's got a lot of thinking to do over the next three days.

When Arthur arrives at the train tracks on Thursday morning he's not actually expecting to see the man from the closet waiting on him, so it's a bit of a shock to realize that he is, indeed, there.

The morning air is chilly, winter drawing ever closer, and as Arthur approaches he can see the man sitting on the metal tracks, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, his hands stuffed into his pockets. He's wearing at least four layers, a jacket and thick hoodie the topmost two. Arthur stares at his profile, his hands curling into themselves inside his own pockets as he's hit with the sudden temptation to run his fingers through the man's thick black hair. He remembers how soft it felt that night at the gala, and has to swallow thickly.

Arthur has spent the past three days trying to talk himself out of coming here; he's never been one for stupid games, and he doesn't understand why the man couldn't have just told him his name in those last few seconds before Morgana dragged him off. Hasn't he proved himself enough, hasn't he shown that they are on the same side? In all honesty, Arthur's not even sure why he cares so much.

But he does, and that inexplicable twisting in his gut every time he pulls out the folded paper with the design on it makes it impossible for him to stay away. If there's any chance he can find out this man's name – any chance at all of convincing him to stick around and let Arthur get to know him – then he's going to take it. It could be that the guy will turn out to be a right prick, but Arthur at least wants the opportunity to find that out for himself.

Gravel crunches under his feet as he steps in the center of the two tracks, and the man looks up, his eyes locking immediately with Arthur's.

"I could have been anybody, you know," Arthur says stiffly. "You need to pay closer attention."

The man snorts, and untangles his legs to push himself to a stand. "I knew you were coming ten minutes ago. This place has quite a few magical protections, and if anybody else had come along I would have known in plenty of time to get away. I guarantee I've been doing this longer than you, so don't treat me like I'm an idiot."

"I wasn't," Arthur insists. "I was just – "

He breaks off, not at all sure what he's trying to say.

"Just what?" the man asks, arching an eyebrow. "Worried? Looking out for me? Stating the obvious?"

Arthur scowls. "You're a pain in the arse, do you know that? I don't even know why I'm here."

"Why are you here? Something as simple as the name of a stranger can't possibly be that important."

Arthur shakes his head incredulously. "You're hardly a stranger at this point, I'd say. Not only have we had illicit closet sex, but you've sent me mail, turned my life upside down and inside out, and helped me save a few innocent people. Your name is the least important out of all of those, and yet you refuse to give it to me."

"And yet you refuse to stop asking," the man points out. "Why? Why did you come today, when you could have gone on with your life and your heroism and never had to see me again?"

"I don't know why!" Arthur finally snaps, glaring at the man's calm, beautiful face. "All I know is that I can't f*cking stop thinking about you. It's driving me mad. It's like no matter what I do you're always there, always in the back of my mind. I've carried that stupid, goddamned paper around for five f*cking months because it's the only connection I have to you."

The man stares at him for a moment, looking a bit nonplussed at that statement. "Why are you helping the sorcerers?" he finally asks bluntly. "What's in it for you?"

Arthur closes his eyes, pulling one hand out of his pocket to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Are we playing twenty questions or something? I don't have time for this."

"But you're still here, aren't you?" the man asks softly and Arthur opens his eyes, dropping his hand and shoving it back into his pocket. "You could leave at any point; I wouldn't stop you, and you know it. But you're still here, still asking for my name."

"Look," Arthur says irritably, "if you're not ever going to tell me then just say so. I actually can take a hint, believe it or not."

The man's mouth quirks up in a ghost of a smile. "Answer my question and I'll tell you my name. Why are you helping the sorcerers?"

Arthur's jaw clenches, and he shakes his head. "Because I care. Because my sister has magic and I didn't know that until almost six months ago. I had no idea the world was as f*cked up a place as it is, and the thought of sitting back and doing nothing while I live like everything is hunky-dory makes me sick to my stomach. I have to help in any way I can, even if it doesn't change a goddamned thing. Every life I help save is a life that deserves to be lived, and every life I can't save pushes me to try even harder. And even if you don't tell me your name, or give me a fake one, or whatever, I'm not going to stop. I'm not ever going to stop."

"My name is Merlin," the man says. "Merlin Emrys." He steps closer and sticks his hand out. "It's nice to finally meet you, Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur blinks. "Merlin," he repeats blankly, automatically taking his hand and shaking it.

"That was fairly anticlimactic, don't you think?" Merlin asks with a small grin, releasing Arthur's hand and shoving his own back into his pocket. "All that trouble just for a name."

"Is that your way of telling me you're going to be trouble?" Arthur asks weakly.

Merlin's grin stretches just a bit wider. "You could say that." The hint of teasing in his voice disappears with his next words, his expression turning serious. "So these rescue missions. Do you do a lot of them?"

"Quite a bit, yes," Arthur answers. "A lot of my missions are within fifty kilometers, but sometimes I go further if I need to. There are more and more magic users being arrested and falsely imprisoned every day, and death sentences are becoming more and more frequent. I'm going to try to help as many as I can."

"I know how bad it's been lately," Merlin says darkly. "And how much worse it's going to get. The family from the other night; are they okay?"

"They are. We managed to get them to an underground healer just in time, so mum and son are both recovering nicely."

Merlin nods. "I've done a lot of thinking since Monday night, and I want to help."

Arthur's breath catches in his throat; he hadn't been expecting that. "Do you mean help me, or just help in general? I thought you ran that news journal – the one you sent me."

Merlin's expression darkens. "Not anymore. The place where we printed it got raided one night a few months ago; apparently your father had been able to get his hands on another issue and somehow traced it back to the factory we used. My friends and I weren't there at the time, thank f*ck, but we can't go back and it's far too dangerous at this point to try starting again somewhere else. The other night – it made me feel like I was actually useful to someone again."

"Are you saying you want to go with me on my missions?" Arthur asks, needing to make sure he understands Merlin correctly.

"Yes, I am. We worked pretty well together the other night, don't you think?"

"I do," Arthur agrees. "But doing this isn't easy. Sometimes missions fail, and sometimes the bad guy wins. It's dangerous, and I had to learn that the hard way. I know you can take care of yourself – you proved that quite well on Monday – but you need to know exactly what you're asking."

"I'm well aware of all of that, thanks," Merlin says dryly. "More aware than you could ever understand. You've been rescuing others for six months, but I've been fighting for my own survival for years. And I'm not asking, by the way, because I don't need your permission. I'm going to do this either way, I just think it makes more sense for us to work together."

"Alright," Arthur says after a moment, because what else can he say? "But missions are often last minute, and I would need a way to get in touch with you quickly. Do you have a mobile?"

Merlin hesitates, biting his lip, and for the first time since Arthur has met him he looks unsure. "No, it's too dangerous, but – I know of another way we can communicate. You probably wouldn't like it, though."

Arthur waits, but when Merlin doesn't continue he huffs impatiently. "Well, what is it?"

"I could open a connection between us," Merlin explains, watching Arthur carefully. "It would allow us to communicate immediately with each other no matter how far away we were. It would probably come in handy while in the middle of a mission, too, actually."

"A connection?" Arthur repeats, frowning slightly. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well," Merlin starts. "A mental connection. We would be able to talk to each other in our heads."

Arthur stares at him, at a complete loss for words. "Inside our heads?"

"It's not like mind reading, or anything," Merlin says hastily. "It's completely voluntary, and it wouldn't be at all possible for us to know what the other is thinking. Consider it as a type of mobile inside your brain. You could use the connection to direct certain complete thoughts at me, just like talking out loud, and I could do the same. Nothing more. You would have full power to cut it off any time you wanted, and you would be able to reopen it as well, so long as the magic that creates it isn't removed."

Arthur's not entirely sure he's comfortable with that idea, but he can't deny that it would be pretty convenient to just be able to think something in Merlin's direction. "Okay," he says slowly after a moment. "I guess we could try it out. But –" he adds quickly, "if it's too weird we'll have to find another way."

"Agreed," Merlin says, nodding. He hesitates again. "So, uh. Do you want to do it now, or wait? You can take more time to think about it if you want."

"No, it's okay," Arthur says. "We might as well do it now. I mean. If you're going to help then why not start immediately, right?"

"Right." Merlin takes a step closer, hands coming up awkwardly. "I'll have to, um." He waggles his fingers slightly in the direction of Arthur's head.

"Oh. Okay." Arthur closes his eyes, shoulders tense. "Will it hurt?"

Merlin snorts. "No, definitely not."

Arthur jumps slightly when he feels fingers slide into his hair, the palms of Merlin's hands resting lightly on his temples. His breath catches, and it feels like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.

"Ready?" Merlin asks quietly, and Arthur nods.

"Ready."

There's a short pause, and then Merlin is chanting out a long, complicated sounding spell. His voice is low and melodic, tongue twisting over the words, and a shiver slides down Arthur's spine. A pleasant warmth starts to spread into him from Merlin's fingers, nudging gently into his head, and it feels golden and bright and perfect.

He relaxes, a breath escaping his lungs in one long release, and groans before he even realizes he's going to. Merlin's words never stumble, his voice growing stronger as the spell goes on, and it's so very, very odd but Arthur can feel a place within his mind opening up. It blooms through him, resonating deep and powerful, and after a few moments there's something new there, something he knows is a part of Merlin.

Arthur has no idea how long it takes, but eventually the magic starts to pull back, leaving just enough behind for the connection to remain. His breathing is heavy, his hands clenched into fists inside his jacket pockets, and as Merlin's voice fades away and his fingers slide from Arthur's hair, he realizes that he's as hard as a f*cking rock.

"Jesus Christ," Arthur manages, opening his eyes. "You didn't say it would make me horny as hell."

"Yeah, sorry," Merlin says, and f*ck, he sounds utterly wrecked. "That happens. It'll go away soon."

Arthur gives Merlin a look that he hopes adequately expresses the way he feels about that, and Merlin grins crookedly in return. "Did it work, then?"

"Oh, well," Merlin says, brightening. "Let's try it out and see."

He clears his throat as though he's going to actually talk, and then Arthur hears a single word resonate inside his head.

Hello.

Arthur jumps, eyes going wide. "Holy f*ck."

"You try it," Merlin urges. "We've got to make sure it's worked both ways."

"Okay," Arthur says, taking a deep breath. He takes a moment to think of something, saying it to himself first just to make sure Merlin hadn't been lying about the mind reading thing. There's no reaction on Merlin's part, he just continues to stare at Arthur expectantly and a bit nervously, so Arthur focuses on the new, open feeling in his mind and directs the thought at him.

I want to kiss you.

Merlin blinks, and then his mouth twists into a wry smile. "Not yet," is what he says, and at least it's not a flat out no. "Let's not complicate things too soon, yeah?"

"Things are already complicated," Arthur points out, unable to stop himself from feeling disappointed.

"Yeah," Merlin agrees, "but this isn't a one-off in a closet anymore. I'd rather not f*ck things up before we even know if it could work."

Arthur nods slowly; Merlin has a point, there. "Okay," he says, even though what he really wants is to reach out and pull Merlin against him, and kiss him until he can't breathe. "We can wait."

Merlin nods as well, and then an awkward silence falls between them. "So, um," he finally says, shifting slightly on his feet. "I need to go. I'm supposed to meet up with my sister and friends soon."

"Me too, actually," Arthur says quickly. "Morgana's expecting me. I'll, uh." He pauses long enough to gesture vaguely at his own head. "I'll let you know about the next mission as soon as I find out myself."

"Good." Merlin takes a step back, and then another. "See you later, then?"

"Yeah," Arthur agrees, copying Merlin and stepping back in the direction he'd come from. "It shouldn't be too long."

"I'll keep that in mind," Merlin says, lips quirking slightly.

He turns and walks away, shoulders hunching slightly against the wind. Arthur watches him for a moment, hair blowing into his eyes, before doing the same, not allowing himself to look back as he makes his way to where he'd parked Morgana's car.

The drive to the safe house is a quiet one, his thoughts a jumble as he tries to sort them out while not accidently thinking them in Merlin's direction. He feels a bit shell shocked, in all honesty. Less than a week ago he was preparing himself for a dangerous rescue mission he knew he'd have to do on his own, and then, without any sort of warning whatsoever, the man from the closet had been thrust back into his life, turning it upside down once again.

This time, however, he wasn't wreaking havoc and then disappearing. Arthur was literally connected to him with magic, and it was the weirdest, most intimate feeling he had ever experienced.

When Arthur finally pulls Morgana's car into the clearing where the safe house is located, he frowns at the presence of Nimueh's familiar black SUV. She must have handed over the family they had rescued to the next person in their underground system and then driven all night to get back.

Arthur parks Morgana's car beside the SUV and heads toward the front door, unsurprised to hear Morgana and Nimueh arguing as he steps inside. He rolls his eyes and makes his way to the kitchen, leaning against the doorjamb to watch.

"It's not really any of your business, darling," Nimueh bites out, giving Morgana a cool look. "My girlfriend and I are taking a bit of time off to spend together; where we're going doesn't concern you."

"She's my sister," Morgana snaps back, resting her palms on the kitchen table and leaning forward. "I have every right to know where she's going to be. What if there's an emergency? How am I supposed to get in touch with her if I don't know where she is?"

Arthur thinks of the new openness inside his mind – still quite odd feeling – and wonders if Morgana knows it's even possible to do something like that.

"Nothing will happen that you can't handle," Nimueh says, crossing her arms over her chest. "You aren't a child, and you and Arthur know quite well how things work. I've already made arrangements for another pick up driver for you while we're away, and all of our contacts are familiar with the both of you by now. You'll be fine."

"That's not really the point I'm trying to make," Morgana says through clenched teeth. "Of course Arthur and I will be fine, but that doesn't mean I can't know where Morgause is going to be."

Nimueh narrows her eyes. "And you, love, aren't catching my point at all, which is that it's none of your goddamned business."

"Are they still at it?" Morgause asks as she comes up behind Arthur.

"Apparently," Arthur answers, more amused than anything as the two women glare at each other over the kitchen table. "How long has Nimueh been here?"

"She arrived a couple of hours ago. They've been at it since she walked in the door." Morgause sighs, stepping around him and into the room. "Stop it, both of you. I will never understand why you two can't find a way to get along." Turning to Morgana, she places a hand on her arm. "We're going to a private cabin in the mountains."

"Morgause!" Nimueh protests, scowling when she gets waved off.

"Even if we told you the exact location," Morgause continues, "there's no way to contact us while we're there. Nothing will happen; Nim and I will be perfectly safe, and there's no doubt in my mind that you and Arthur can take care of yourselves."

Morgana frowns. "I don't like it. Why do you need to even do this?"

"Surely you understand what sex is by now," Nimueh says dryly, and Morgana sends her a dark glare.

"We're going," Morgause says, giving Nimueh a dangerous look, "because we need to spend some time together and work a few things out."

Morgana frowns, still looking unhappy. "Fine," she finally says. "How long will you be gone for?"

"A few months, most likely," Morgause says, smiling gently at her. "You'll be so busy it'll fly by, you'll see."

"I doubt it," Morgana mutters, but she doesn't argue any further.

"Are you ready, then?" Nimueh asks, eyeing Morgause's casual jeans and blouse.

"I am, yes," Morgause answers. "Everything's packed and waiting in our bedroom, including the things you keep here."

"Arthur, darling," Nimueh purrs, smiling sharply at him. "Be a doll and carry our bags out?"

Arthur gives her a flat look; it's not the first time she's asked him to do something she could do much easier and faster with magic. "Of course," he says anyway, giving her a sarcastic smile. "It would be my pleasure."

"I'll help," Morgana says, quickly making her way across the kitchen to where Arthur is standing in the door. "I'm not completely useless around here, unlike some people."

Nimueh's expression goes fierce and angry, and Arthur grabs Morgana's arm, dragging her off down the hallway before another argument can begin.

"Bloody bint," Morgana mutters when they've reached the bedroom, and she grabs one of Morgause's suitcases from the bed. "I hope Morgause leaves her in the mountains when she comes back."

Arthur snorts, picking up two of Nimueh's smaller bags and throwing them over his shoulder. "You know that won't happen. As much as you like to complain, we're both fully aware of how much they care about each other."

Morgana grimaces but lets the subject drop.

Once all of the bags have been packed into Nimueh's SUV, Morgause turns to Morgana and gives her a tight hug. "Don't worry, sister, I'll be back soon. And when I return everything will be much, much better. You'll see."

"I hope you're right," Morgana says, returning the hug. "Don't let her convince you to stay away."

Nimueh rolls her eyes at that, but rather than returning the barb she opens the driver door and climbs into the vehicle, slamming it shut behind her and starting the engine. Morgause releases Morgana, leaning forward to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

"Stay strong. It won't be long now."

She turns and climbs into the vehicle, and Arthur and Morgana stand side by side as they watch the SUV disappear down the drive.

"Come on, let's go make some tea," Arthur says as the dust settles. "I have something to tell you anyway."

"Alcohol would be a better choice," Morgana says, but follows him into the house and down the hall to the kitchen.

She takes a seat at the kitchen table and Arthur busies himself filling the kettle with water and setting it on the range, grabbing two mugs and the tin with Morgana's favorite tea from the cabinet. He's not entirely sure how to tell her about Merlin, but since it's just going to be the two of them for the next few months then she should know they'll be getting help. If he's honest, he's glad Morgause has left for a while, because he hadn't really wanted her to know. In all the time he's been working with her, Arthur has never been able to bring himself to fully trust Morgause. From what he can tell, Merlin is extremely powerful, and Arthur wouldn't have put it past Morgause to try and use him for her own gain.

"So what have you got to tell me?" Morgana asks as Arthur sets a steaming mug of tea in front of her, taking his own seat across the table.

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before answering. "This is going to sound a bit mad, but – the guy from Monday night? The one who helped me."

Morgana frowns slightly. "What about him? Oh god, he didn't tell, did he? Goddamn it, Arthur!"

"No, no, nothing like that," Arthur says hastily, waving her words away. "The opposite actually."

"Just spit it out, please." Morgana pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm really not up for guessing games at the moment."

Arthur takes a deep breath. "I met him again this morning, at the train tracks by that old abandoned primary school. His name is Merlin, and he's going to be helping us from now on."

Morgana drops her hand and stares at him. "He's what?"

"Going to help us," Arthur repeats. "He and I worked pretty well together on Monday, despite not really knowing each other. He's magic, and seriously powerful."

"Yeah," Morgana says. "Let's talk about that 'not really knowing each other' part. How do you know you can trust him? Arthur, you can't just bring new people in without talking it over with everybody."

Arthur leans forward in his seat, giving her an earnest look. "He's the one who crashed the gala and printed the story about Father's plans in that news journal. We can trust him, Morgana. And we're going to need him – I have no magic whatsoever, and you're still learning."

Morgana winces at the reminder of how hard it's been, learning to control her magic, and Arthur feels a sharp stab of guilt.

"Do you have a way of contacting him, then? He'll need to be able to be ready within a split second's notice."

"He'll be ready when it's time," Arthur says, hesitating slightly before plowing ahead with the next part. "And yes, I have a way of contacting him directly. He opened a connection between us, in our minds. All I have to do is think something at him, and he'll hear me inside his head. And vice-versa."

"He what?" Morgana asks in disbelief. "Opened a connection in your minds?"

Arthur smiles warily. "Yes. It's a very strange feeling actually, but I'm sure I'll eventually get used to it."

Morgana stares at him again. "Did he ask your permission before doing this?"

"Of course he did," Arthur huffs. "It was perfectly voluntary." He purposely leaves out how pleasant it also was; Morgana probably wouldn't want to know that anyway.

"Jesus Christ, Arthur." Morgana sits back in her chair, shaking her head. "You're more than a bit unbelievable sometimes, do you know that?"

"So I've been told," Arthur says dryly. "Many times. By you."

Morgana rolls her eyes and then sighs, giving him a look that's far too knowing. "Fine. But he'd better not f*ck anything up for us."

"He won't," Arthur assures her. "I got the feeling that he's more invested in this than he let on."

"Well, I certainly hope so, because he's in for a crash course," Morgana says, scowling down into her tea. Silence falls for a moment, and then she shakes her head, pushing back from the table. "I'm going to go take a shower. Don't forget we have dinner with Father tonight."

"I won't," Arthur says to her retreating back.

Once she's disappeared through the door he frowns, glancing at her untouched tea. The connection to Merlin feels both raw and golden in the back of his mind, and he lets out a hard breath, tilting his head toward the ceiling and covering his face with his hands.

Something tells him the next few months won't be the easiest he's ever had.

The road before them is dark, the moon covered by clouds and not a single lamppost in sight. They're hiding in the ditch, bellies to the ground and only a few centimeters between them. Arthur can hear Merlin's heavy breaths beside him, steady and calming, and Morgana is silent on the other side of Merlin.

There's supposed to be a transfer of magical prisoners happening that night, and the stretch of road they're at is the best place for interference. Merlin had discovered the information by accident only a week ago, and had immediately come to Arthur and Morgana. They had spent the next six days looking up all the information they would need to make a rescue like this, and all they can do now is hope they haven't got something wrong.

They've been doing missions with each other for just over three months, and Arthur is still surprised sometimes at how well he and Merlin work together. The mind connection helps, of course, but more than that they just seem to be on the same wavelength. Even so, Merlin has been slow to trust either him or Morgana completely, despite having hit it off with Morgana almost immediately. It's very rare that he opens up to them about himself, and the most Arthur has been able to discover about Merlin's life is that his parents are dead and he has a small, very tight-knit group of friends, including a twin sister.

Arthur hasn't met them yet, but he's hoping that changes fairly soon – especially considering the fact that he not only wants to pin Merlin to his bed and f*ck him silly (and is quite put out that that hasn't happened yet), but has also decided that he wants to wake up beside him every morning for the rest of his life.

It's almost time.

Arthur glances over at Merlin. I know. You ready?

As ever. Merlin frowns slightly. Every time we do one of these missions, I always wonder why the sorcerers who have been arrested and imprisoned don't use their magic to fight back. I would never just let someone else take me.

It's a good question, one Arthur himself has asked many times in the nine months he's been rescuing. Honestly, Merlin, I don't have any idea. Fear? The guns the authorities use? Maybe they think they can't fight back, or that it isn't worth it.

Merlin looks at him seriously. Life and freedom are always worth fighting for.

"Okay, guys," Morgana whispers before Arthur can say anything else. "I see headlights coming this way. Are you ready, Merlin?"

"Yep," Merlin says, flexing his right hand. "Just as soon as we know it's them."

Arthur looks to his left and sees a pair of bright lights heading in their direction. If this is the vehicle they're waiting for then it'll be a white, windowless full-sized van, and hopefully there won't be too many guards to deal with. Arthur slides his gun from the back waistband of his jeans, checking the clip to make sure he's got a full round. He's never killed another person, preferring to stick with injuries if he has no other choice than to shoot, but the fact that he might have to one day is never far from his thoughts.

The vehicle draws closer, and when it's maybe a hundred yards away the clouds covering the moon part just enough to allow some light to reflect off the shiny, white side of the large van. Arthur nods sharply and glances at Merlin.

This is it; pop the tire.

Merlin raises his hand, aiming at the approaching vehicle, and whispers a short spell. Almost immediately there is a loud bang and then a high-pitched scraping noise as the metal wheel drags along the asphalt of the road, sparks flying through the darkness. The van swerves slightly, the three remaining tires squealing as the driver obviously tries to keep control, and after a few tension-filled moments it comes to a stop about ten yards away, headlights dangerously close to where they are.

"Wait," Morgana instructs quietly. "Not all of them will get out to change the tire. The ones who do, we'll take out first, which will leave only the ones in back with the prisoners."

"Yes, Morgana," Arthur says, rolling his eyes. "We've been over this fifty times already."

"Shut up, both of you," Merlin snaps. "If they hear us then it won't f*cking matter, will it?"

Both the driver and passenger side doors open, and two men in military-type uniforms step down to look at the blown tire. Arthur watches them closely, and when both of their backs are turned he gestures to Merlin and Morgana. The three of them creep along the ground, keeping as quiet as possible as they get closer to the two men. Once they're as close as they can get without leaving the ditch they stop, and Arthur hopes the two guards don't turn around before they can be taken care of.

"How the hell did this happen?" one of them asks. "That's a brand new f*cking tire."

"Oh, calm down. Could have been anything. Nail in the road, or something. Let's just get it changed so we can get these freaks to the prison."

Hand me Morgana's gun, Arthur thinks at Merlin.

Merlin gives him an odd look but immediately reaches over and slides Morgana's gun from its holster, handing it to Arthur as quickly as he can. Morgana scowls at them both but can't argue without drawing attention to the three of them.

Arthur silently pushes himself to a stand, a gun in each hand, and approaches the men from behind. They're still arguing over the tire, but when he's almost upon them the one on the left turns just enough and catches a glimpse of him.

"Hey!" the guard shouts, causing the other one to snap his head around. "What the f*ck are you – "

"Sorry to interrupt," Arthur says cheerfully, and brings the handles of the guns down as hard as he can on the guards' temples. They both crumple to the ground, unconscious. Arthur glances back at Merlin and Morgana, holding Morgana's gun out in her direction. "Come on. No time to waste."

Merlin scrambles up and heads for the back of the van. Morgana follows behind him, pausing to take her gun from Arthur.

"You know we could have done that far easier with magic, right?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur grins. "Yeah, but I can't always let you two have all the fun, can I?"

Morgana rolls her eyes and starts for the other side of the van. "I'm going to check the cab for anything that could be useful. We're going to have to change this tire before we can leave."

Arthur nods and turns toward the back where Merlin is waiting by the doors. You know they've doubtless heard us by now, he thinks as he steps up next to him, studying the doors. These are probably rigged to only open from the outside.

They are, which works in our favor. Merlin rubs his hands together and then places one on the metal of the doors, whispering something unintelligible under his breath. They glow brightly for a split second, and Merlin nods, shifting his hand to grasp the handle. Ready?

Arthur reaches for the other handle, curling his fingers around it. What did you do?

Made them bullet proof. Stay behind yours when you open it. On three: one…two…three!

Arthur twists his handle down and snatches the door open at the same time as Merlin, careful to stay fully covered behind it. Unsurprisingly, a barrage of bullets comes raining out of the back of the van, some of them hitting the doors. Arthur winces at the noise; it's a good thing they're in the middle of nowhere. There's a brief pause in the slew of bullets and he hears Merlin shout a familiar spell. Loud thumps come from inside the van only a moment later, followed by silence.

"It's always weird as f*ck when you do that," Arthur says out loud, poking his head out from behind his door and glancing at the now-unconscious guards. "One little spell and they're out like a light."

"Comes in handy, though, doesn't it?" Merlin asks, grinning smugly as he steps out.

"Whatever," Arthur snorts.

He looks up from the guards and takes in the dozen or so other people in the back of the van. They're all staring at him and Merlin with wide, frightened eyes. It takes him a moment to realize what he's seeing, but when he does his stomach churns. Every single one of them is gagged, and their hands are covered with rough cloth and tied tightly behind their backs with rope.

"Jesus Christ. Merlin."

"I see," Merlin says darkly, and jumps in next to the downed guards. "We're going to help you guys, alright? Just give us a minute to get these bastards out of the way."

Arthur moves to join him, but before he can even take two steps he feels the cold barrel of a gun pressed to his temple.

He closes his eyes. f*ck.

"Don't move," a low voice says directly into his ear, and Arthur obeys, eyes opening and jaw clenching. The hand not holding his own gun curls into a fist and he glances to the side, recognizing one of the guards he had knocked out.

Merlin. A little help?

Merlin looks up from where he's trying to manhandle one of the guards and freezes, eyes going wide for a moment before his lips twist into a vicious snarl. "You might not want to do that," he says calmly, voice hard and dangerous.

"Raise your hand or start that magic mumbo-jumbo talk and he gets a bullet straight to the brain," the guard snaps back, raising his free hand to wipe away the blood trickling down the side of his face from the wound at his temple.

Merlin lets out a small, distressed sound, expression a mixture of fury and fear, but he doesn't move.

"Good," the man says, and pushes the end of his gun further against Arthur's head. "You. Put your gun down and kick it away."

Arthur moves slowly, crouching down low enough to place his gun flat on the ground and then straightening again at the same speed. He puts his toe against the handle of his gun and gives it a careful shove, with just enough strength to have it skittering away without accidently going off.

"Right, then," the guard says, and all of a sudden Arthur feels the man's hand fumbling at his back pockets.

"Hands off, you bastard," he snaps, trying to twist away.

The guard snorts and pulls his hand back, Arthur's wallet clutched firmly between his fingers. "Relax, pretty boy." He waves the wallet in front of Arthur's nose. "I'm just after this." Flipping it open with one hand he glances at the contents. After a moment a filthy, sh*t-eating grin spreads across his face. "Well, well, well. It's Arthur Pendragon himself. I wonder what daddy will think when he finds out his perfect son is working for the enemy?"

Arthur catches Merlin's eye. f*ck times ten.

"Nothing to say?" the guard asks in smug amusem*nt. "Not a surprise. Into the van with you, then. We'll be taking a bit of a detour once I get this tire changed."

The barrel of the gun pushes into his head again, urging him forward, and Arthur glares at the guard before climbing up into the back of the van with Merlin. Both doors slam shut behind him and Arthur immediately turns, throwing his fist into the metal and then leaning against it.

"sh*t f*cking f*ck."

"Well, that didn't go as planned," Merlin says dryly, and Arthur glares at him over his shoulder. "Let's hope Morgana can take him out before he finds her."

Arthur straightens, turning around fully to look at Merlin in horror. "Oh god, Morgana." f*cking hell, how could he have forgotten about her?

Merlin shakes his head. "She can take care of herself, you know this. You need to calm down and think, Arthur. He wasn't very bright, was he? He left us in the back of this van without restraining either of us, with a bunch of other sorcerers that we can still free, and three unconscious guards whose guns we can take because he didn't."

Arthur blinks, looking around at the people still staring at him and Merlin with wide eyes. He takes a deep breath. "Right," he says. "You're right. Let's get these people untied and go from there."

Merlin nods and turns to the woman beside him. "We're going to help you as much as we can, okay?"

The woman nods slowly and then twists to allow Merlin access to her hands. Arthur takes another deep breath and looks down at the person closest to him. It's a child, a little boy no more than five, and there are tears streaming down his face as he stares up at Arthur in obvious fear. Arthur bites back a curse and slowly crouches down in front of him.

"Hey. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. Will you let me untie you?"

The little boy just continues to stare at him, and leans into the person next to him as though trying to hide. Arthur glances up at the man beside the boy, and notes the hard warning in the brown eyes that look back at him. Ah, okay. He turns back to the little boy.

"Is this your dad?"

After a moment the little boy nods.

Arthur smiles as gently as he can. "Will you let me untie you if I promise I'm going to untie him, too?"

The little boy looks up at his father and then glances back at Arthur. He nods again.

Arthur lets out a breath and carefully reaches for the rope around the boy's wrists. It's knotted tight, and after a few fruitless tugs he scowls. There's no way he can get these off with just his fingers.

The van suddenly tilts, and Arthur throws a hand out to keep his balance, glancing over at Merlin. "He must be changing the tire. I swear to Christ if he's hurt Morgana – " He breaks off, looking back at the little boy beside him. He finishes his sentence in his mind. I'm going to rip him to pieces.

And I'll help, Merlin thinks back at him. Out loud he says, "They've got these ropes on tight. I can get them off with magic, but it'll take me a while to do them all myself. Do you have anything you can use to cut them off?"

"No." Arthur runs a hand through his hair, and happens to glance over at the pile of unconscious guards in the middle of the van floor. "But they might."

He moves towards them and starts digging through the many pockets on their uniforms. In one of the inside jacket pockets on the second guard he finds what he's looking for. "Ha!" he says triumphantly, pulling out a pocket knife. He flips it open and tests the blade with his thumb, nodding satisfactorily. "This should work just fine."

"Good." Merlin has already set two of the sorcerers free, and they're rubbing at their chafed skin as he moves on to a third. "You need to hurry; it probably won't take long for him to get that tire changed. I need to be ready to blast those doors open before he can start driving, and I want everybody free before I do that."

Arthur nods in acknowledgment and moves back to the boy and his father, quickly cutting through the ropes binding the boy and snatching the cloth off his hands. He reaches up and carefully cuts off the gag surrounding the boy's head, and then moves on to the father, slicing his knife across the rope. The father immediately struggles the rest of the way free from the rope and cloth, yanking the gag off his mouth before reaching to pull the little boy into his lap, burying his face in the boy's soft brown hair. Arthur's heart twists at the sight, but he moves on quickly, cutting through one set of ropes after another.

None of them say a single word the entire time, and he knows they're all giving him suspicious looks. He's used to it by now, and ignores it fairly easily.

There are only a few sorcerers left to free when the tilted van suddenly slams back down to the ground, throwing them all off balance. Arthur looks over at Merlin, catching his eye, and the sharp jolt of worry he feels is echoed on Merlin's face. He hurries to cut free the last few prisoners, and Merlin moves to step over the still-unconscious guards, heading for the doors.

Arthur hears the driver's door on the cab slam shut, but instead of the rumble of the engine like he's expecting he hears a shout of surprise followed by a scuffle and a bang against the metal partition between the front and the back.

"Morgana!" Arthur shouts, fear slicing through him.

"Yeah," Morgana calls back after a moment, and Arthur closes his eyes as relief washes away the fear and leaves him shaking. "Hold on, you idiots, I'm going to come around and open the doors."

"Jesus f*ck," Merlin says, sounding choked, and sits down heavily on the floor.

Arthur closes his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and then opens them again to finish releasing the last few sorcerers. He's just cut the ropes on the last one when the doors to the back swing open, Morgana's glare not quite hiding the mixture of fear and relief on her face. She tosses Arthur his wallet and he catches it, shoving into his back pocket.

"Let's let this be a lesson to all three of us, yes?" Morgana says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Arthur immediately agrees, and sees Merlin nodding his head.

"What's going to happen now?"

Arthur looks over at the little boy he had freed first, and feels an odd jolt of pride that he'd been the one brave enough to speak first. "You're going to a place far away," he tells him before looking up at the boy's father. "We need someone willing to drive this van and everyone in it to a safe house in small town about three hundred kilometers from here. Would you be able to do that?"

The man nods. "I would." He glances down at his son. "Do you want to sit in the front with me?" he asks quietly, and the little boy nods, burying his face in his father's side.

A broken sob comes from the other side of the van and Arthur turns his head to see a young woman with tears spilling from her eyes. She's quite obviously pregnant, one hand twisted into the fabric of her shirt, just over the bump of her belly.

"I'm not even magic," she whispers, gaze flicking around wildly. "But they took me anyway."

The man beside her looks guilty and worried, and reaches over to squeeze her other hand in his. She doesn't seem to notice, dragging in a deep, frightened breath. Arthur has no idea what to say to her, and when he glances at Merlin and Morgana they don't seem any more comfortable than he feels.

"Right," he finally manages, and clears his throat awkwardly, looking back at the father and son. "My sister will give you directions while the two of us drag these guards out, and then you can be on your way."

The father and son climb out, and it only takes Arthur and Merlin a few minutes to drag the three unconscious guards from the back of the van and dump them on the ground beside the road. When they turn back to the van Morgana has already shut the back doors and is standing by the cab with the father, the little boy apparently having already climbed inside.

The guard who had caught Arthur and Merlin is out cold on the ground, and the other one who had left the van to look at the tire is still unconscious nearby. Arthur and Merlin leave Morgana to finish giving the directions, and quickly drag them both over to where the three from the back have been piled up.

"Do you think they'll actually go where we tell them to?" Merlin asks quietly, watching as the man climbs into the cab and shuts the door, starting the engine. Morgana steps back out of the way, sliding her hands into her pockets.

"I don't know," Arthur answers honestly, frowning slightly as the van pulls away. "I hope so. The fact that they saw your magic, and that it was obvious we were working with you, will hopefully lend us some credence."

Merlin makes a noise of agreement, and they head over to where Morgana is standing, watching the van disappear into the darkness.

"They'll be okay, I think," she says, chewing on her bottom lip. "As long as he goes where I told him to, they'll find help."

"Don't worry," Merlin says, obviously wanting to make her feel better. "I think he's smart enough to figure out that we were the good guys." He glances over to the pile of unconscious guards. "Tonight was only a slight f*ck up, then."

"Oh, that bastard," Morgana spits, eyes suddenly blazing as she points toward the guard who had taken Arthur's wallet. "I had no idea he was even conscious until I heard him on his mobile. I hid behind the front seat just in time, and he very clearly said your name to whoever he was talking to."

"f*ck," Arthur sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He drops his hand and catches her knowing look. "I can't go home, not even for tonight to get a few of my things. Something like this will have reached Father already."

"I know," Morgana says heavily. "You can stay at the safe house for now, but too many people know where it is for it to be a permanent option. If they're caught they may be forced to tell, whether they want to or not."

"Um," Merlin interrupts, clearing his throat, and his expression is serious as he settles his gaze on Arthur. "You can stay with me, if you'd like."

Arthur's heart nearly stops, and when it starts back again it's racing twice as fast as normal. "Are you sure?"

Merlin rolls his eyes. "I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't." He hesitates for a moment, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I mean, it's not the Pendragon Estates or anything, but it's probably safer than anywhere else right now."

"Alright," Arthur agrees after a moment, nodding slowly. "I accept your offer."

The smile Merlin gives him is small and secret and a bit teasing, and it wraps itself around Arthur's chest, squeezing tight.

Morgana snorts. "You two are disgusting. Let's go get my car, then, and you take me back to the safe house like planned. Merlin can show you where he lives after you drop me off."

"We're not disgusting," Arthur mutters in annoyance, and holds out his hand. "Keys, then, you harpy. You drove up here, I'm driving back."

Morgana scowls and digs her hand into her pocket, pulling the keys to her car out and dropping them onto his palm. The three of them make their way to where they had parked Morgana's car in a nearby field, Merlin climbing in front with Arthur and Morgana stretching out across the backseat. Arthur cranks the engine and puts it in gear, driving slowly across the field until they reach the edge of the road.

Arthur can feel Merlin's eyes on him. Out with it, Merlin.

Merlin frowns slightly. You're taking this really well. About your father finding out what you've been doing, I mean.

Arthur doesn't answer at first, glancing both ways down the quiet road before pulling out onto it. I'm not really. Or, well. I wouldn't be if this had happened when I first started. But now…I've had nearly a year to accept the fact that my father and I are always going to be on opposite sides of this. It was only a matter of time before he found out, and I know there's nothing either of us can do to change the other one's mind. That's not something he'll accept easily, and it's best if I just stay as far away as possible.

It hurts though, doesn't it? Merlin responds softly, not really asking. No matter how long you have to accept the fact that someone you love can no longer be a part of your life, it still hurts.

Arthur swallows. Yeah, he admits. Yeah, it does.

When they finally pull into the clearing of the safe house, the car's headlights sweep over a black SUV Merlin doesn't recognize. He tenses, straightening in his seat, and it's only Arthur's lack of reaction and Morgana's exclamation of obvious excitement that keeps him from doing anything else. Glancing quickly at Arthur's profile, Merlin takes in the annoyed grimace and pulls his magic back from the edge.

"Don't worry," Arthur sighs as he puts the car into park, rolling his eyes as Morgana jumps from the back to run inside. "It's just the other two we told you about. They must finally be back."

"Oh." Merlin looks back to the SUV, frowning slightly. He's only been to Arthur and Morgana's safe house a handful of times over the past few months, and even though he knows about the other two he's never bothered to learn any details. The most he's done is overhear Morgana muttering about her sister Morgause and 'that bitch Nimueh'. "I guess that means I have to meet them."

Arthur grins. "It won't be that bad. I don't think either of them will be happy we brought in somebody new without consulting them first, but I'm pretty sure you can hold your own against them if it comes to that."

"I'm pretty sure I could, too," Merlin says with a cheeky grin, and laughs as Arthur rolls his eyes.

"Come on, then, oh great one," Arthur says with sarcastic amusem*nt, opening his door and climbing out. "Let's get this over with."

As soon as they step through the front door Merlin hears voices coming from the direction of the kitchen, Morgana's being the only one he recognizes. When they walk into the room, Merlin can see Morgana speaking in a low voice with a blonde woman, a happy smile on her face. Another woman with dark hair is standing a bit apart, looking both bored and annoyed. Her eyes flicker to Arthur and Merlin, eyebrows shooting up as she takes them in.

"Arthur. Who is this?"

"Nimueh, this is Merlin," Arthur says, and Merlin can hear the slight stiffness in his voice. "He's been helping Morgana and me while you two were away."

Merlin gives her a cautious smile. "Hello."

"Helping how?" the blonde woman cuts in sharply, and if the dark haired one is Nimueh then this must be Morgause. "You didn't ask if you could bring in someone new."

Morgana scowls. "How were we supposed to ask? You had gone away with no way to contact you!"

"Well, then, you should have waited." Morgause strides over to where Merlin is standing, eyeing him up and down. "What could you possibly have to offer?"

Merlin bristles, jaw clenching. "You'd be surprised," he bites out, looking her dead on.

"Calm down, Morgause," Nimueh says smoothly, walking over to join her. "This could work in our favor." She glances over at Arthur, who is scowling at both of them. "Is he trustworthy?"

"Of course he's trustworthy," Arthur snaps.

"Despite what you like to believe," Morgana cuts in, "Arthur and I do actually have brains."

Nimueh ignores her. "Do you have magic?" she asks Merlin.

"Yes," Merlin answers simply, frowning. Something holds him back from saying more than that; he'd rather they not know the extent of his powers just yet.

"I don't like it," Morgause says, turning to Nimueh. "We hadn't planned on anyone extra."

"No," Nimueh agrees. "But this could work in our favor. And if it doesn't, then we can…take care of it."

"What the f*ck are you on about?" Arthur interrupts, voice pitched low and dangerous.

Nimueh glances at him and then shifts her gaze to Merlin, a small smirk on her face. "I'm talking about the real reason we went away."

"Well," Morgause says icily. "Since my opinion doesn't seem to matter." She turns on her heel and stalks toward the table, waving her hand over the rolls of paper strewn across it. "This is what we've been working on for the past three months. We'd only accounted for Morgana and Arthur helping us."

"What is all this?" Morgana asks, stepping closer and looking down at the papers. A frown tugs at her lips as she reads, her brow creasing. When she finally looks back up at Arthur and Merlin her eyes are wide and shocked. "You need to see this."

Merlin frowns, exchanging a look with Arthur; this doesn't sound good at all.

"Not all at once, now," Nimueh says sarcastically.

Arthur snorts and walks over to the table, Merlin following close behind. They both lean over the papers to read, and at first Merlin doesn't really understand what he's seeing. One of them is a blueprint of what looks like an office-type building, and another is a long list of names he recognizes as government officials who are anti-magic. It's not until he picks up what turns out to be the detailed plan that he realizes what exactly it is he's looking at.

"Holy sh*t," Arthur breathes beside him, having read the plan over Merlin's shoulder. He sounds as shocked as Merlin feels, snatching the paper from Merlin's slackened grip and waving it in Morgause's direction. "What the absolute f*ck is this?"

"Exactly what it looks like," Morgause answers coolly. "Enough is enough, and we're finished taking sh*t from this government. Later today will bring the dawn of a new era, one where magic is not only tolerated but worshipped."

"This is complete insanity," Merlin says in disbelief. "You can't just murder the entirety of the government and expect to get away with it."

Nimueh chuckles. "So naïve. We're not going to just get away with it – we're going to take over the whole goddamned world."

"And we're going to do it with your help," Morgause adds, snatching the details away from Arthur and smoothing them out on the table. "Morgana, you and Arthur have each been designated a vital job to do. We hadn't planned on your little friend here, but seeing as how Nim insists, I'm sure we can work him in somehow."

"You can't be serious," Arthur exclaims. "I'm not going along with this madness, none of us are."

Morgause and Nimueh exchange looks. "I'm sure Merlin and Morgana can speak for themselves," Nimueh finally says, a dangerous glint in her eye. "Merlin? You're magic. Surely you aren't happy with the way you and your kind are treated."

"Of course not," Merlin says with a scowl. "But that doesn't mean I'm insane enough to try and kill a bunch of people to make my point."

"So you'd rather be worth less than a speck of dirt under my shoe," Nimueh says, voice going icy. "Well. I'm sure that can be arranged." She raises her chin and looks over at Morgana. "And what about you? I daresay there's no love lost between us, but you wouldn't leave your own sister out in the cold, would you?"

Morgana hesitates, gaze drifting up from where she'd been staring at the plans on the table. Her eyes flick back and forth between them, and Merlin's chest squeezes, a lead weight settling in it. "For the longest time," she finally says, "I've wanted to live in a world where I could practice magic freely, and really feel what it's like to let go and let my magic take over. But I'm not sure this is the way to go about accomplishing that."

"This is the only way," Morgause says stiffly. "Morgana, I know you can see that. They're pushing us closer and closer towards where they want us, and if we don't fight back we're going to end up as nothing but a black smudge in history."

"I know," Morgana says, sounding distressed. "I know that. But – "

"Enough," Nimueh snaps, eyes blazing with anger. "I had thought it might be a bit difficult to get you and Arthur to agree when we first started planning this, but it turns out my patience just isn't up for it. See you once the world is ours, darlings."

She lifts her hand, and Merlin's back goes stiff, his hand coming up a split second behind Nimueh's. There's a moment of chaos that seems to last forever. Morgause shouts something about Morgana, who is yelling loudly at Nimueh, and Arthur is cursing above them all. Merlin's already got a spell on his lips, halfway out, but his eyes widen as Arthur jumps past him to try and step between Nimueh and Morgana. Both spells are going to hit him, and that thought is what makes Merlin clench his teeth shut and clamp down hard on his magic.

A moment later he wishes he had just redirected it instead, because Arthur pulls Morgana down to the floor and Nimueh's spell hits Merlin hard enough to throw him backwards into the kitchen table. It crashes to the floor, him with it in a pile of paper and broken wood, and everything immediately goes dark.

*

When consciousness returns, it takes him a few long seconds to realize that he's on the couch in the living room. His head is throbbing, along with his shoulder and hip, and he can hear low voices somewhere nearby. He struggles to open his eyes, and a low groan is wrenched from his chest. The voices stop and heavy footsteps sound on the hardwood floor, cool fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead.

"Hey," Arthur murmurs. "Merlin. Are you awake?"

Merlin works to swallow, his mouth and throat dry, and forces his eyes to open as far as he can. "Yeah," he manages. "Hurting, though."

"I imagine so, the way you hit that table," Arthur says seriously. "Why didn't you protect yourself?"

"Was trying to protect you." Merlin grips Arthur's hand and pulls himself up to sitting, Arthur's other arm going around his waist to help steady him. "You jumped between us to get to Morgana, and I couldn't risk hitting you instead of Nimueh."

"You should have gone for it," Morgana says from the other side of the room. "The spell she used knocked all three of us out. It hit you first and hardest, which is why you've been unconscious for longer. We've been waiting for you to wake up so we could decide what to do."

Merlin frowns, glancing around. "Are they – ?"

"Gone," Arthur answers. "It's still dark outside, though, so it probably hasn't been too long. They took both mine and Morgana's guns."

"f*ck." Merlin rubs a hand over his face, struggling to get his sluggish brain to just think. "What now? Are we going after them?"

"We can't, not just the three of us," Morgana says, scowling. "Arthur and I are useless without any weapons, and even as powerful as you are, Morgause and Nimueh would be nearly impossible for you to beat by yourself."

Merlin knows she's right – and he also knows where he can get more magic, a few guns, and some much needed help. "Did they leave the car?"

Arthur nods. "Yes, but they took the keys."

"Doesn't matter, I can make it start." Merlin pushes up from the couch, ignoring the way his entire body protests. "I think it's time you both met a few important people. Come on, there's probably not much time left."

Arthur and Morgana exchange a look but quickly follow Merlin outside to the car. He runs a hand over the hood and whispers a short spell, feeling a moment of satisfaction when the engine rumbles to life.

"I'm driving," Merlin says, sliding behind the wheel. "Don't bother trying to argue, Arthur, I can see it on your face. I'm fine, and I'm the only one who knows where we're going."

Arthur scowls. "Stubborn git," he mutters, but gets in on the passenger side as Morgana once again climbs into the back.

A sudden thought occurs to Merlin. "Do either of you have a mobile?"

"There should be one in the glove compartment," Morgana says. "Unless they took that, too."

Arthur opens the compartment and looks inside. "They left it." He reaches in to grab it, handing it over to Merlin, and then pulls out a set of keys. "Along with the convertible's spare; I guess they didn't think to search the car, fortunately. Who are you calling?"

"My friends," Merlin answers, punching in Gwen and Lance's number.

"Hello?" Gwen answers sleepily after the fourth ring.

"Gwen, it's Merlin."

"Merlin? It's three in the morning, what's wrong?"

"I need you and Lance to meet us at Will and Freya's," Merlin says. "Something's about to happen and we need your help."

"Us?" Gwen asks around a yawn. "We? Merlin, what's going on?"

"I'll explain everything, just meet us as soon as you can get there." He hangs up and then immediately punches in Will's number.

"Who the f*ck is this?" Will snaps when he answers.

"It's Merlin, and I need your help."

"Jesus Christ," Will mutters. "You'd better be in serious trouble or something."

"Or something. I'm on my way over with Arthur and Morgana, and I've already called Gwen and Lance to meet us. Wake Freya; the two of you need to be dressed and ready to go when we get there." Merlin hangs up before Will can say anything else, tossing the mobile on the seat between him and Arthur. "Okay," he says, putting the car into gear. "Let's go."

The ride from the safe house to Will and Freya's is tense and silent. Morgana alternates between staring out the window and staring down at her hands, an unhappy expression on her face. Arthur keeps shooting Merlin brief, worried glances but he doesn't say anything, either out loud or through their connection. Merlin is sort of glad, because as much as he wants to reassure Arthur that he is, in fact, okay, he's pretty sure he would do so by declaring just how hard he's fallen for him, and now really isn't the time for that.

When they finally pull up to the small farmhouse, Merlin isn't surprised to find Gwen and Lance's Jeep parked in the yard. He parks Morgana's car next to it and hops out, dragging his hand over the hood to cut the engine as he hurries past. He runs up the few steps onto the porch, banging his fist on the door.

"Will! Freya! We're here, open up."

"Where exactly are we?" Arthur asks as he and Morgana come up behind him, frowning as he looks out over the dark yard.

"This is where my best friend and sister live," Merlin explains, catching his eye. "And our other friends are already here, too. They'll help us."

Morgana shifts, crossing her arms over her chest. "Are they all magic?"

"No." Merlin shakes his head. "My sister Freya is, but Will, Gwen, and Lance aren't. They all, however, know how to use a gun."

The door suddenly swings open, and Will is glaring out at Merlin. "This had better be good." His gaze shifts, and he scowls as he takes in Arthur and Morgana. "This is their fault, isn't it? I told you I didn't trust them."

"No, Will, it's not their fault," Merlin says, rolling his eyes and ignoring Arthur's derisive snort behind him. "Where is everyone? We'll explain everything, but we need to hurry."

Will's scowl deepens, and for a moment Merlin thinks he might refuse. Finally, he makes a disgusted noise and steps back, leaving the door open. "Fine," he says. "Come on, then."

He stalks off down the hall, and the three of them follow close behind.

"Well, that was pleasant," Arthur whispers sarcastically in Merlin's ear. "Is he always this welcoming?"

Merlin grimaces. "Will's not really that bad, he just takes some getting used to."

"I heard that," Will snaps, glaring over his shoulder as he leads the way into the living room.

Gwen and Freya are sitting together on the couch, talking in low voices, and Lance is leaning against the mantle of the fireplace, arms crossed and a worried expression on his face. He straightens as they all walk in, and Gwen and Freya both look over at the same time.

"Merlin!" Freya says as she jumps up, rushing over to him and throwing her arms around his neck. "What's going on?"

"It's a bit complicated," Merlin answers, giving her a quick squeeze before stepping back and gesturing behind him. "This is Arthur and Morgana – "

"We know who they are," Will mutters, glaring, and Merlin shoots him a warning look before continuing.

"You know I've been working with them for the past few months now, helping to rescue other magic users, but tonight we discovered that the other two people involved in the group are planning something really huge and really f*cking dangerous." Merlin pauses, glancing around at his friends and his sister. "They're on their way right now to the main government building. There is a huge session planned for later this morning, at about six, and pretty much the entirety of Parliament will be there, including the Prime Minister. Once Morgause and Nimueh arrive, they plan on killing every single one of them. There won't be a government left if they succeed, and if we don't stop them then that's pretty much a solid guarantee."

Gwen gasps. "They can't do that, it'll make everything worse!"

"Exactly," Arthur says, stepping up next to Merlin. "They want to try and become the ruling government themselves, setting all magic users free and doing god-knows-what to the rest of us."

"Turn around would be fair play," Morgana mutters darkly from behind them.

"No one deserves that kind of treatment," Lance says firmly. "Whether it's the magic users right now or the non-magic people at some point in the future."

"If they succeed, they world wouldn't be any better than it is now," Freya points out gently. "And if they don't succeed – which is a very real possibility – then not only will they probably die, but the rest of the magic users will suffer even more so for it."

Morgana doesn't say anything to that, shaking her head and turning away as her eyes fill with tears.

"We have to stop them," Merlin says. "And we need everyone's help to do it."

"We're in," Gwen says immediately, standing and walking over to Lance's side.

Will nods, reaching for Freya's hand and squeezing it. "I don't think any of us would be able to just stand by and watch."

"That's what I'd hoped," Merlin breathes out, glancing at Freya. "Arthur and Morgana both need guns. I know you gave Gwen, Lance, and Will theirs. Do you have any others?"

"There's exactly two left," Freya says. "They're in the hidden space at the back of the closet in Will's old bedroom."

"Perfect. Come on, let's get those and then we can go; the longer we take the further ahead of us they'll be."

Merlin leads Arthur and Morgana out of the living room and down the hall to the stairs, taking the steps two at a time to the second floor; Will's childhood bedroom is the last one on the left. Merlin heads straight for the closet, dropping to his knees and pushing the boxes of junk to one corner. He presses the palm of his hand to the baseboard, whispering a short spell. There's a quiet click, and a small door springs open beneath his fingers, revealing a space behind it.

He reaches in and pulls out a wooden box, holding it tightly as he stands and takes the few steps back to Morgana and Arthur. Setting the box on the bed, Merlin opens the lid to reveal two silver and black guns and several small boxes of bullets resting on dark blue material. Picking up one of them, he makes sure it's loaded before handing it and two boxes of ammunition to Morgana.

"Can I have a minute alone with Arthur?" Merlin asks her as she takes them. "We won't be long."

Morgana snorts, rolling her eyes. "I'm sure," she says, but gives them both a weak smile before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

As soon as Merlin hears her footsteps fade down the hall he turns and steps closer to Arthur, pressing their mouths together in a hard kiss. Arthur makes a surprised noise, and immediately parts his lips to let Merlin's tongue slide in. His arms come up to wrap around Merlin's waist, hands fisting in the back of Merlin's t-shirt, holding tight.

"f*ck, I've wanted to do that for ages," Merlin breathes when he pulls back, nipping sharply at Arthur's bottom lip.

"Yeah," Arthur agrees, pressing a kiss to Merlin's jaw.

Merlin breathes in slow and deep, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Arthur's. "When this is over," he says quietly, "we're going to f*ck until neither of us can move."

Arthur laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Merlin's lips. "That's the best thing I've heard all night."

"Here," Merlin says, opening his eyes and reluctantly moving out of Arthur's hold. "I want to do something for you."

He steps toward the bed and places his hand over the gun still in the box, closing his eyes again and letting his magic build inside him. The spell comes to mind easily, despite never having cast it before. The ability to do so is in his blood, inherited from his father, and the impact of exactly what he's doing makes him swallow hard.

His voice is steady and sure, however, when he starts to chant, the words tumbling from his lips unbidden. He wants to do this, he wants to give Arthur this part of himself.

The gun glows golden beneath his palm, power bursting out from the places where the symbols etch themselves into the metal. It fades slowly, leaving behind a bright sheen to the silver and black. The four runes of Merlin's family are now a clear part of the gun, two on either side where the barrel meets the handle, and along the edge of the barrel is one word: Excalibur.

Merlin picks the gun up, examining it carefully before nodding in satisfaction. "This is for you," he says, holding the gun out to Arthur with both hands. "I've put some of my magic into it, and the runes on either side match the ones on my bracelet and Freya's necklace – knowledge, magic, protection, and courage. They're my family's motto, I guess you could say."

Arthur slowly takes the gun, an odd look on his face. "You did that for me?"

"Yeah," Merlin says, giving him a crooked smile as his heart pounds in his chest.

Arthur looks up and catches his eye. "Thank you." His voice is soft, thick with emotion, and he takes a visible breath before dropping his eyes to the gun again, running his thumb over the smooth letters of its name. He shakes his head. "Merlin…"

"I know," Merlin says, because he does, he knows exactly how it feels to be given something like that: new and overwhelming and like it's completely undeserved. "It's yours now; it will never work as well for someone else as it will for you."

Arthur swallows, nodding. "Okay, then." He slides the gun into the back of his jeans before stepping forward and pulling Merlin into a deep, hard kiss. His tongue sweeps into Merlin's mouth, dragging a groan from them both, and when he pulls back they're both breathless. "Are you ready to do this?"

Merlin grins giddily, adrenaline already starting to pump through his blood. "Let's go kick some sorceress arse."

*

Arthur, Merlin, and Morgana take Morgana's car, and Gwen, Lance, Will, and Freya pile into Gwen's Jeep. It's been just over an hour since Merlin woke at the safe house, and it's going to take them another two to get to the government building where sessions are held. They've lost far too much time as it is, and as they speed down the darkened roads, Merlin can only hope that they're not too late.

*

The sun is starting to peek over the horizon when they finally reach their destination. The building that the ruling government uses is located away from the city, the vast property surrounded by a high, heavily guarded black iron fence. There's only one gate leading both in and out, and the plan had been to try scaling the fence in one of the wooded areas rather than gain the guards' attention right away.

But then they see the destroyed guard house and the two uniformed guards lying amongst the splintered wood, and Merlin curses, gut knotting in dread as Arthur barrels Morgana's car through the mess and down the road, Gwen and the others following close behind in the Jeep.

There isn't a single police car or any other security to be seen anywhere, but the grounds are teeming with panicked people as both vehicles skid to a halt just outside the front of the building.

"We're too late," Morgana says quietly from the back, an odd hitch in her voice.

"The hell we are," Merlin snaps, and jumps from the car, taking off across the asphalt and dodging people as he runs up the wide concrete steps. He can hear the others behind him but doesn't bother to turn around and look; if they hurry they can still salvage this, they can still do something.

Merlin bursts through the front doors and stops dead, his blood running cold at the sight of several dead guards on the floor and three nicely-dressed people slumped over the main information desk. There are people screaming and crying everywhere, and Merlin turns to the others with a look of horror on his face.

Arthur stops beside him, his expression mirroring Merlin's. "Jesus f*cking Christ."

"It looks like they just killed anyone who tried to stop them," Will says grimly.

Merlin feels sick, and swallows hard to keep from throwing up. "Where is the room the sessions are held in?"

"On the fifth floor," Gwen says.

Arthur immediately moves toward the nearest lift, the others following closely behind. As soon as the doors shut he pulls Excalibur from the back of his jeans. "Guns out," he says. "It won't take long before this entire building is surrounded, so the sooner we can get to them and get out the better."

When the lift doors open on the fifth floor, they're met with complete chaos. People are running in every direction, most of them trying to figure out a way into the session room, and many of them yelling into their mobiles. Several armed guards are banging on three different sets of double doors along the wall opposite the lift, and as Merlin watches, one of them pulls his gun and unloads it on the lock. The doors stay resolutely shut, and it's obvious that magic is the reason.

"We've got a national f*cking emergency here, goddamn it," a nearby man shouts into his phone as the seven of them step off the lift. "The session was twenty minutes in when these two magical terrorists attacked, locking everybody in. God only knows what they're doing, and we need as many armed forces as possible as soon as they can get here. The Prime Minister is in there, for f*ck's sake, not to mention almost every member of Parliament there is!"

Merlin exchanges a panicked look with Arthur as the man runs off, still talking, and then turns to the others. "Freya, can you get rid of any satellite signals here? Internet, mobiles, anything that allows outside communications. The longer we can hold off military involvement the better."

Freya nods and closes her eyes, words tumbling from her mouth, and Merlin immediately feels the change in the air. He continues, looking over at Gwen and Lance.

"We need to get as many people as we can out of here, and fast. Try to blend in with them and lead them to the exits."

Gwen and Lance both run off, and Merlin turns to Arthur, Will, and Morgana. "Ready?"

"We've got your back," Will says, lifting his gun, and Arthur holds up Excalibur in agreement.

Freya opens her eyes, a hint of gold still lingering. "Okay," she says. "All outside communications have been knocked out, and I've gone ahead and destroyed all of the security cameras as well."

Merlin nods sharply and turns to face the middle set of doors. People are still running all around, not seeming to pay much attention to them, but he knows that will change in just a moment. He raises both his hands and takes a deep breath, yelling out a spell, and gives his magic a hard push out. The doors blast open despite the magic sealing them shut, splintering everywhere.

There's a second of silence as the people still in the corridor are shocked quiet, but then someone shouts, "More terrorists!" And then another yells, "They have guns," and everyone starts screaming and flooding toward any exit they can find.

Morgana rushes ahead of the rest of them, running straight into the huge session room. Merlin and Arthur are directly on her heels, and Will and Freya just behind them.

Nimueh and Morgause are at the front of the room, Morgause looking delighted and Nimueh furious as Morgana runs toward them. Merlin isn't paying much attention to them, however – horror fills him as he takes in the people in the room. He had been expecting them all to run out as soon as the doors opened, but instead they're all slumped over the long tables or lying on the floor.

"Oh my god," Will says behind him, and Merlin looks over at him, Arthur, and Freya. "Are they dead?"

Arthur crouches down next to one of the men on the floor, feeling for a pulse. After a moment he looks back up at them, more anger and fear in his eyes than Merlin has ever seen. "This one is."

"Which means the rest of them probably are too," Freya says. "f*ck, these bitches are pure evil."

Merlin turns and strides toward the front of the room. "Hey!" he shouts, gaining the attention of all three women. "Is everyone here dead?"

Nimueh arches an eyebrow. "Of course they are, you nitwit. That was the plan, after all."

Morgana blinks and looks around, taking in the bodies she had obviously missed on her dash to her sister. Her expression twists, and she looks back to Morgause in shock. "You killed them all?"

Morgause frowns, taking Morgana's hands in hers. "We had no choice. We never would have gained complete freedom without taking care of the enemy. It wasn't pleasant, but it had to be done. Now, we can make the rules. You will be able to practice your magic anywhere and everywhere, without any sort of restrictions."

Morgana hesitates, and Merlin can see her struggling with the idea of so many people dying versus being able to practice freely. Finally, she shakes her head. "Not like this. You shouldn't have – there had to be another way."

"Don't be so naïve," Nimueh snaps. "Letting them live would have accomplished nothing. This way there's no government left to fight us, and we can do whatever we please."

"You're f*cked in the head," Will says in utter disbelief. "How is a mass killing going to prove to anybody that they can trust you as a leader?"

Nimueh snorts. "Ridiculous boy. We don't need to prove anything except our power. The people will fall in line because they won't want to risk their own lives."

We can't let them win this, Arthur's voice suddenly sounds in Merlin's head. If they do, they'll enslave the whole bloody nation.

I know. Merlin shakes his head. We need to do this, and do it now. It won't be long before this place is swarmed by the military.

"We're wasting time," Morgause says, voice ice cold. "We might have the upper hand right now, but this is far from over. Nimueh, we need to get the magical barriers in place. Let Morgana watch – it will be a good teaching moment for her."

Morgana shakes her head, taking a step back as her eyes fill with tears. "I can't be a part of this. I love you, Morgause, but I just can't."

"Morgana –"

"Oh, for f*ck's sake," Nimueh snaps, and throws her hand up in Morgana's direction. "If you aren't going to help, then at least shut up and let us work."

"No!" Morgause yells, pushing Morgana behind her, but it's the wave of pure magic that comes from just behind Merlin that stops Nimueh.

She cries out as it hits her, sending her flying backwards and into one of the stone pillars at the back of the huge room. A loud crack echoes as she hits it, hard, and slides limply to the floor, eyes open and blank. In the shocked silence that follows, dark red blood begins to pool around her head.

Morgause lets out a furious, agonized cry and spins around, her eyes blazing with magic as she flings a spell in Freya's direction.

Merlin acts on pure instinct, pushing his sister out of the way and stepping in front of the spell, throwing out a strong burst of his own magic. The two spells collide, exploding in waves of sparking energy, and Merlin barely has time to take a breath before Morgause is sending another spell at him, and then another and another.

Her magic is fueled by anger and grief, and it's almost too much for Merlin to handle. He fights back as hard as he can, letting his magic push through him, blocking as many of her spells as he can while sending others at her. He doesn't want to kill her, but as a chair next to him explodes it's clear that her attacks are meant to harm. There's only so much he can do before having to resort to things he'd rather not think about.

All of a sudden there are shouts behind him, followed almost immediately by gunfire. Merlin jerks in surprise, having very nearly forgotten about the others, and it's just enough of a distraction for one of Morgause's spells to slip by, hitting Merlin square in the chest. The air is knocked from his lungs, and he's pushed backward through several of the long tables, crashing to the ground in a pile of splintered wood.

Merlin! Arthur shouts in his head, sounding panicked.

Merlin ignores the way his chest burns and his body aches, gasping in several breaths as he pushes to a stand . I'm okay, he assures Arthur, keeping his eyes trained on Morgause as she stalks towards him.

Good. We have to get the f*ck out, now. A bunch of guards from other parts of the building have arrived; we're trying to hold them off but they outnumber us. Freya's got a barrier up, but she's getting tired.

Merlin gives a sharp nod. Don't worry, I'm about to take her down.

Morgause has almost reached him, and Merlin straightens fully, lifting his jaw and curling his hands into fists. He reaches deep and draws on his magic, letting the raw power course through his blood and pool in his hands. "It's over," he bites out, narrowing his eyes.

Morgause laughs, sounding on the verge of hysteria. "You've turned Morgana against me and killed the woman I love. This is far from over, you little sh*t."

"I didn't kill her," Merlin snaps. "And Morgana is smart enough to make her own decisions."

"No, that other bitch cracked her head open, didn't she?" Morgause snarls, completely ignoring his words about Morgana. "But you protected her, and in my eyes that makes you just as accountable as she is."

She raises her hand, pointing it straight at Merlin, and her eyes glow as she starts to chant. Merlin feels his chest begin to tighten dangerously and gasps in a breath, closing his eyes. When he opens them a moment later he can feel his magic shining through, bright and hot, and he shouts out a spell as he pushes his magic toward her.

Morgause lets out a sharp cry as it hits her, sending her spinning through the air; she lands with a muffled thump on the carpeted floor, unmoving.

"No!" Morgana screams, running towards them.

And just like that the rest of the room is brought into sharp focus. Merlin dazedly takes in the destruction their magic battle has caused, and feels a surge of panic at the sight. There are giant holes blasted in all of the walls, and the ceiling has crumbled in several places, dust and loose rubble still falling. A good many of the bodies in the room have been covered in sheetrock and concrete. The stone pillars that had been at the back of the room have collapsed, burying Nimueh's body underneath.

As Merlin watches, one of the walls falls to pieces, bringing down a large section of the ceiling with it, and he realizes that the entire room is about to implode. He can still hear shouts and gunfire coming from the corridor outside the room, and knows they have to get out.

Morgana has dropped to her knees next to Morgause, tears streaming down her face as she cradles her sister's head on her lap. Merlin runs toward them, and when he reaches for her Morgana screams and tries to fight him off.

"Morgana!" he yells, "Morgana, we've got to go!"

"You killed her!" Morgana screams back at him, eyes filled with tears and grief. "You bastard, you killed her!"

Merlin grabs her wrists and gives her a shake to grab her attention. "I didn't, I swear it! She's just knocked out. But if we don't get out of here right the f*ck now, she will be dead!"

More of the ceiling crumbles, falling to the floor with several heavy thumps.

Morgana drags in a gasping breath, her eyes widening. She looks down at Morgause and then around at the room, and when her gaze lands back on Merlin the wildness is fading. "She's not dead?"

Merlin shakes his head. "No. The spell I used isn't mean to kill."

"Oh," Morgana says, voice trembling. "I can't carry her."

"Neither can I," Merlin says out loud, and then in his head, Arthur!

What the f*ck is going on, Merlin?.

Morgause is unconscious. We need you to carry her out. This room is about to collapse in on itself, and when it does there's a good chance it will take down a big portion of the rest of the building too.

There's no answer to that, and Merlin isn't surprised when Arthur comes running into the room a moment later. He rushes to them, crouching down to lift Morgause up into his arms and over his shoulder. "Let's go," he barks out, and Merlin grabs Morgana's hand, pulling her up and dragging her with him as he follows Arthur into the corridor.

Freya and Will are both out there, Will aiming his gun at the guards surrounding them. Freya's eyes are glowing bright gold, both of her palms outstretched, and Merlin can feel the magical barrier she's holding up to keep the guards and their bullets from reaching them.

"I can't do this for much longer," Freya gasps, sweat rolling down the side of her face.

"There's no way out," Will says, shaking his head. "They've got all the lifts and doors blocked; we're f*cking trapped."

Merlin curses, looking both ways down the corridor; he's right, they can't get out.

"Merlin!"

Twisting around at the sound of his name coming from the destroyed session room, Merlin's gaze scans across the rubble until it lands on a door in one of the far corners. Gwen is leaning out of it, frantic expression on her face, and when she sees Merlin looking back at her she gestures wildly.

"Come this way! Lance and I have found a way out that isn't teeming with guards and police, but we've got to hurry."

Merlin gives her a quick nod before turning back to the others. "Back into the session room," he orders just loud enough for the others to hear him. "Gwen's waiting at the door in the far right corner; I'll hold these f*ckers off."

He doesn't wait for an answer before incanting a strong barrier spell and placing it just in front of Freya's, the continuous barrage of bullets from the guards making him wince. Freya immediately drops her magic, gasping in a breath, and Will grabs her hand, pulling her into the crumbling session room. Morgana follows closely behind them, but Arthur remains, Morgause still unconscious over his shoulder.

"Don't try to be a f*cking martyr, Merlin," he snaps. "Give it enough magic to hold for a few minutes and then come the f*ck on."

"That's what I'm doing, Arthur," Merlin says through gritted teeth, and gives his magic an extra push. "Go, now!" he yells, turning and running with Arthur directly on his heels.

They dodge dead bodies and fallen bits of ceiling and wall as they sprint through the room toward Gwen and the open door at the back. Arthur runs through first, and as soon as Merlin is inside the door he spins around and throws his hand up toward the ceiling, yelling out a spell. What remains of the crumbling plaster groans and rumbles, and Merlin grabs Gwen, yanking her all the way through the door and slamming it shut. A tremendous crash sounds on the other side, the floor beneath Merlin's feet shaking at the impact.

"How do we get out?" he yells over the noise.

Gwen points down the dim corridor they're in. "Follow me!"

The others had paused to wait, not knowing where to go, and Gwen pushes through them to the front. She runs flat out as everyone keeps close behind her, and she leads them through what seems to be a maze of dim, empty corridors and random staircases.

Finally she bursts through what looks like a section of the wall and sunlight floods in, making Merlin blink in surprise. He doesn't slow down, however, and he and the others run outside to see both vehicles and an extremely nervous looking Lance waiting. They're at the back of the building, and Merlin guesses that the door they had come out of was made to blend in on both sides so as to be overlooked.

"Hurry," Lance urges as soon as he sees them. "They don't have enough authorities to have the building surrounded yet, but they will soon."

"How are we supposed to get out without being seen?" Arthur asks, moving towards Morgana's car and carefully lowering Morgause into the backseat. Morgana immediately climbs in with her, resting Morgause's head on her lap. "The only way out is through the front, and I've no doubt they've got it blocked to hell and back."

"Lance and I found a map of the property," Gwen says, opening the driver's door of her Jeep as Will and Freya climb into the back. "Every guard in the building rushed to the fifth floor when you guys busted into the session room, which left everything else open to intrusion. Everybody was running out anyway, so we took the opportunity to do a little snooping."

"There's a hidden dirt road leading off the property from back here," Lance explains. "It's for the Prime Minister's use only, so very few people know about it. They won't be expecting us to escape this way."

"You two are f*cking brilliant," Merlin says, giving them both a wide grin before hopping into the passenger seat of the convertible, Arthur having already slid behind the wheel. "Let's get the f*ck out of here."

Arthur is on edge the entire time they're driving down the road, expecting an attack at any moment by every military force in existence. It never comes, however, and it isn't until they pull into Will's empty front yard that he allows himself to relax just a bit.

Merlin and the others head for the kitchen as Arthur carries a still-unconscious Morgause upstairs to one of the bedrooms, Morgana following close behind. He lays her on the bed, on top of the covers, and is immediately pushed aside, Morgana moving to take Morgause's hand in hers.

"Get out."

Arthur frowns but doesn't argue, quietly shutting the door behind him as he leaves. He makes his way down to the kitchen, unsurprised to find everyone sitting silently around the table. For a moment his throat closes up; he doesn't really know any of them, but these are the people who mean the most to Merlin. They barely made it out alive today, and there's no doubt in his mind that the fight for their lives isn't over yet.

Arthur clears his throat, gaining everyone's attention. "We can't stay here. At this house, I mean."

Will scowls. "Why the hell not? This is mine and Freya's home."

"I realize that," Arthur says. "But we don't have a choice. We should fully expect to be identified, considering how many people saw our faces, which means they're going to be looking for where we live. If we're here when they find this place, it'll be over for us."

Will curses, leaning back in his chair and pushing one hand through his hair. He doesn't argue, though, and Freya reaches over to squeeze his other hand. Arthur feels a sympathetic twist in his gut; he knows what it's like to be forced to have to leave behind everything you know. It's been less than twelve hours since he was faced with that same reality himself.

"Where will we go?" Gwen asks, worry in her voice. "I can't think of anywhere that will be safe. The factory where we printed the news journal has long been taken over by the authorities; they've got that place under strict watch."

Merlin glances over at Freya, and Arthur doesn't miss the knowing look that passes between them.

"We can go back to our home," Freya says, looking up at Arthur.

Merlin nods. "It's our only option, I think. Freya and I can cast some strong protection spells on it. We'll include some sort of illusion one as well, to make it look like the house has been burned down. They won't bother to look too hard for us in a place that isn't possible to inhabit."

"Your home?" Arthur asks, raising an eyebrow. "Where would that be, exactly?"

"About an hour from here." Merlin catches Arthur's eye. "It was our childhood home, where Freya and I grew up. It's possible they'll try to search there, but it's been abandoned and ignored for years; if we can get there in time we can set up enough magical precautions to put them off."

"That sounds like our best bet," Arthur agrees, and glances at Will and Freya. "We'll need to leave as soon as possible, so if there's anything here you want to take with you, you should get it ready now."

Freya nods and stands, pulling Will up behind her and leading him from the room. Arthur hesitates for a moment, but he's been thinking about what they needed to do with Morgause ever since they actually managed to escape.

Merlin, I need to speak with you in private for a moment .

Merlin blinks, looking like he'd been lost in thought. He glances over at Gwen and Lance; Gwen's eyes are closed, and she's leaning her head on Lance's shoulder. "I'll be right back," he says quietly to Lance, who nods distractedly, gaze on Gwen.

Arthur leads him down the hall until they're far enough away not to be overheard by anybody, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. "Morgause isn't coming with us; I won't allow it, no matter how much Morgana threatens me."

Merlin lets out a breath, brows drawing together worriedly. "I agree, but I don't think either one of them is going to take it well."

"I know," Arthur says, sighing heavily. "Which is why it's just going to be the two of us who tell them. Can you bind Morgause's magic if necessary?"

Merlin looks surprised at the question. "I could. It wouldn't be easy, but if I absolutely had to then I could do it."

Arthur nods. "Good. Follow my lead."

Arthur turns and starts up the stairs, schooling his features into a determined expression. Merlin follows behind at a slower pace; he must be exhausted from the sheer amount of powerful magic he'd had to do earlier, and Arthur hates the fact that he might possibly be forced to do even more.

Arthur doesn't bother to knock as he enters the room where he'd put Morgause, striding over to where Morgana is sitting in a chair next to the bed, face drawn and eyes tired.

"What do you want?" she snaps as soon as she sees Merlin.

Merlin doesn't answer right away, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. "I'm sorry you're angry with me," he finally says, his gaze locking with hers. "I had to stop her, and you know I did."

Morgana scowls, but she doesn't disagree.

"Wake her up, Merlin," Arthur says, pulling Excalibur from the back of his jeans. "I'm not explaining this twice."

"Explaining what?" Morgana asks, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Arthur, why the f*ck do you have your gun out?"

They both ignore her as Merlin walks to the bed and frowns down at Morgause, who is pale and still. He reaches out his hand and places the palm against her forehead, closing his eyes as he casts the spell. The magic quickly does its work, and she wakes with a gasp, sitting straight up and forcing Merlin to step back. She blinks, breathing hard through her nose, her eyes darting around until they land on Merlin. Her face contorts and she struggles to push herself from the bed.

"You!"

Arthur immediately steps in front of Merlin, Excalibur pointed at her head. "I wouldn't do that."

"Arthur, no!" Morgana protests, fear in her voice.

Morgause freezes, glaring fiercely between the gun and Arthur. "I hope you realize I could easily obliterate you both."

"Merlin," Arthur says casually, flipping the safety off, "could you block Morgause from being able to use her magic?"

Merlin doesn't even blink at the repeated question. "Yes," he answers. His eyes land on Morgause's furious face and he arches an eyebrow. "I'd probably have to knock her out again first, though."

"What the f*ck do you two think you're doing?" Morgana bursts out, stalking around the bed. "How dare you –"

"Shut up, Morgana," Arthur says, voice as hard as steel, and her mouth snaps shut in surprise. "You may hate me for it, but this needs to be done." His stomach rolls at the thought of Morgana hating him, and he has to take a deep breath before continuing to Morgause. "Here is what's going to happen. You're going to go far away, as far as you can get –"

"Arthur, no –"

"– and you are never – never – going to do something like this again. You will never again use your magic to willingly harm others, or to gain a position of power."

Morgause raises her chin, eyes hard. "And what happens if I don't agree?"

"Then Merlin and I will hunt you down," Arthur answers dangerously. "We will find you, and we will block your magic so that you no longer have a choice. And if it comes down to it, we will kill you."

Morgana goes pale, her expression stricken. "You can't do this. You can't just force her to leave –"

"And what happens," Morgause bites out, "if I choose to stay against your wishes?"

"Then I will bind your magic," Merlin cuts in before Arthur can say anything. "And you won't ever be able to access it again, even if you decide to leave later on."

Morgause stares hard at them both. "So I either stay and lose my magic, leave and keep my magic as long as I adhere to your restrictions, or leave and do as I wish, but with the knowledge that my magic and life are forfeit."

Arthur nods sharply. "Exactly."

"Fine," Morgause spits after a long moment of silence, and there's something almost defeated in her gaze. Almost. "I will agree to your terms, and leave immediately."

"No!" Morgana cries, expression stricken. "Why are you agreeing to this? It's mad!"

"Morgana –"

Morgana's jaw clenches. "I'm going with you."

"Like hell!" Arthur protests, sudden panic pressing down on his chest.

Morgana spins to face him. "You don't control me," she says coldly. "I can go where I please."

"You aren't going," Morgause says. Morgana tries to protest again but Morgause pushes to a stand and takes Morgana's hands in hers, ignoring Arthur's warning glare. "I need some time – Nimueh –" She stops, her voice wavering. "I need to go alone, to recover and grieve. I've felt Merlin's power, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's incredibly strong. You will be safer here, and he can teach you as well as I can how to bring your own powers out."

Morgana shakes her head, her eyes filling with tears. "I don't want you to go."

Morgause sighs, and looks over at Arthur. "I wish to speak to my sister alone."

Arthur scowls; the last thing he wants to do is leave Morgana alone with Morgause, but he also knows that if he pushes things too far everything could backfire. "Merlin and I will be just outside the door. Don't try anything funny."

"I've already agreed to your terms," Morgause snaps, eyes glinting dangerously. "I'm not going to go against my word."

"Arthur, come on," Merlin says quietly, touching Arthur's elbow gently. "She won't hurt Morgana."

Arthur doesn't have anything to say to that, so he turns to unlock the door, striding from the room. Merlin follows, closing the door behind him.

They wait in silence, Arthur's jaw clenched as he stares blankly at the opposite wall and Merlin stares at him. When the door finally opens several minutes later, Morgana steps out alone, her face pale and her eyes bloodshot; the room behind her is completely empty.

Arthur's chest tightens, and after a moment he clears his throat. "She's gone?"

Morgana glares at him, but there isn't as much heat in it as before. "Yes. She's promised to keep in touch with me, though, and that's just something you're going to have to deal with."

Arthur frowns; if he refuses, there's a good chance Morgana will leave no matter what anyone says. "Okay," he agrees reluctantly, and then, "Morgana –"

"Don't," Morgana sighs, her shoulders drooping. "Please. Just leave it."

Arthur's gut twists, but he nods again, throat working as he swallows. The floor suddenly creaks behind him, and he turns to look at Merlin, almost having forgotten that he's there.

Morgana shakes her head as she glances between the two of them. "I'm going to find the others. I don't know what you've planned yet, but we probably shouldn't stay here long."

She doesn't wait for an answer, the sound of her shoes loud as she descends the stairs. Arthur watches her go, and not for the first time that day he thinks about how close he's come to losing his sister forever.

"She'll be okay," Merlin says, eyes full of worry as he looks at Arthur.

"Of course she will," Arthur scoffs, feeling much more vulnerable than his words imply. He hesitates a moment, voice soft when he continues. "But will we?"

Merlin bites his lip. "You and Morgana, you mean?"

Arthur nods, finally looking over and catching his eye. "She probably does hate me."

"I don't think so," Merlin says, shaking his head. "I think she's just hurting. Give it some time, things will get better."

Arthur sighs. "I hope you're right, Merlin. For all our sakes."

*

It's almost noon by the time they finally arrive at Merlin and Freya's old family home, and no one speaks as they all tumble from Morgana and Gwen's vehicles, exhausted and overwhelmed by the morning's events.

Arthur follows directly behind Merlin as he clomps tiredly up the porch steps, reaching above the frame and feeling around for a key. He seems almost surprised when he actually finds it, but Arthur's glad he did when it slides easily into the deadlock on the door.

"We'll have to go through and clean everything," Freya says, stepping around them and into the foyer.

Merlin nods in agreement. "We'll need to get those spells up soon. Everybody can get settled in for a bit first, but it'll need to get done before dinner."

When Freya doesn't answer, both Arthur and Merlin turn to look at her. She's frozen in place, staring at a nearby wall, and Arthur glances over to see what has caught her attention. There's a picture hanging there, Merlin and Freya at the center of it. It looks like it was taken on a hot summer day, with the two of them engaged in a full-on water war as a man stands at a grill and a woman lounges in an outdoor chaise, reading a book. It's like something out of a magazine ad, perfect and beautiful and free of any hints that their lives are about to be shattered.

"God, Merlin," Freya chokes out, her eyes filling with tears.

Merlin reaches for her, pulling her into a tight hug. "I know," he whispers, his own voice thick. "I think they would be proud of us."

Freya draws in a deep, shaky breath and nods, wiping a hand over her face as she pulls away. Will immediately slides one arm around her waist, leading her from the hallway and through the door that opens into the living room. Arthur watches silently as Gwen steps forward, placing a hand on Merlin's elbow. She smiles softly, giving his arm a squeeze before gesturing behind her.

"Where is the bathroom? I'm going to help Morgana get cleaned up."

Arthur looks over at Morgana, her eyes blank and rimmed with red; she hasn't said much since their confrontation with Morgause, and he can't help but feel a sharp stab of worry.

"Take her upstairs to the third bedroom on the right," Merlin says. "There's a private bathroom there, and she can use the bed to rest if she wants."

Gwen nods and moves toward Morgana, speaking quietly to her as she guides her toward the stairs.

Lance watches them go, and then turns to give Merlin and Arthur a weak smile. "Show me where the kitchen is and I'll see if I can dig up some tea that might still be drinkable."

"Straight down the hall," Merlin answers, pointing. "I don't think you'll be all that successful, though, considering we haven't been here in years."

Lance shrugs. "I have to do something."

He wanders off without another word, leaving Merlin and Arthur alone. The silence stretches for a few moments, not awkward but not quite comfortable either. An odd expression suddenly flashes across Merlin's face, and he turns sharply on his heel, stepping back out the front door. "Come on," he says over his shoulder to Arthur. "I want to show you something."

Arthur follows him outside, the sun bright overhead as Merlin stalks across the yard and around the house to a shed in the back. There's a padlock on the large doors, and Merlin points his hand at it while whispering a spell. The lock pops open and Merlin removes it, tossing it onto the ground. He grabs one of the doors and pulls it open, the bottom of it stuttering over the ground and leaving an arch in the dirt. Arthur takes hold of the other door and does the same thing, opening the shed doors as wide as they can go and letting the sunlight pour in.

Arthur blinks at the mess inside, but Merlin seems to immediately spot what he's looking for, and grins widely. "There it is." He strides over to something, snatching the protective cloth off and dropping it to the floor.

"Oh, sh*t," Arthur says, eyes widening as he takes in the silver and black motorbike. "Is this –?"

"Yeah," Merlin answers. "It was my dad's. He found it one day on the side of the road and brought it home. The two of us were going to fix it up together, but we never got the chance."

A small, sad smile appears on his face, and he reaches out to run his fingers over the cracked leather seat and rusted bit of metal.

"You could fix it up now," Arthur suggests quietly after a moment.

Merlin clears his throat, looking up and catching Arthur's eye. "Yeah, um. I was actually thinking that you and I could do it together. I mean, right now all we've got is Morgana's convertible and Gwen's Jeep, so we're going to need another vehicle anyway."

Arthur's heart nearly stops; this was a project Merlin was going to do with his father, and now he's offering to do it with Arthur instead. Swallowing thickly, he reaches for Merlin's hand, tangling their fingers together and tugging, pulling him closer and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"I'd like that very much," Arthur says. "But only if we're the only ones who can drive it."

Merlin's grin is near blinding, and Arthur's heart trips at the sight. The first battle is over, the sun is shining bright outside, and he's making plans with the man he's fallen so hard in love with. He knows things in this world aren't going to be anywhere close to easy from now on, but that just makes him want to cherish these small moments even more.

Merlin leans in and takes Arthur's mouth with his, licking past his lips and sliding their tongues together. Arthur's breath hitches and Merlin groans loudly, slipping his hands just under the hem of Arthur's t-shirt, fingers playing over skin and causing heat to pool in Arthur's stomach.

Merlin pulls away after a moment and grins wickedly at him, looking as breathless as Arthur feels. "I bet we can both fit on my old bed."

Arthur stares at him, desperately trying to control the rapid pounding of his heart. "Yeah? How big is it?"

"A single," Merlin says casually. "One of us would probably have to be on top of the other –"

Arthur grabs Merlin's hand and drags him toward the shed doors, that image completely breaking his self-control. Merlin laughs and waves his hand at the doors as Arthur pulls him out and across the yard, the padlock flying back into place with a loud clack.

They manage not to run into any of the others once they're inside, and Merlin leads Arthur upstairs to one of the bedrooms. As soon as the door shuts behind them he casts a quick locking spell on it, and Arthur takes a moment to look around.

The room is dim and dusty, but is obviously a teenage boy's. There are books still on the shelves, the closet door is half-open with clothes spilling out, and a large telescope is set up near the window. Posters cover the walls, and there's a computer and old iPod among the scattered mess of a desk. The bed is shoved into the far right corner, the blue-and-green-striped blanket and blue sheets still rumpled as though someone had just been sleeping in them.

Arthur's heart aches for a moment over what had been Merlin's life, but then Merlin is there, pressing against him and mouthing hot kisses into his neck. Arthur groans, fingers curling over Merlin's hips, and everything else fades away. He doesn't want to think about what's going to happen, or the way the world will be when they wake up tomorrow morning. Right now, all Arthur cares about is the press of Merlin's hot mouth against his and the ache in his co*ck as it rubs against Merlin's through their jeans.

Arthur slides his fingers under Merlin's t-shirt and up his sides to his chest, flicking his thumbs across Merlin's nipples. That earns him a deep moan, and Arthur breaks the kiss, dragging Merlin's shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before quickly tugging his own t-shirt off, desperate to feel Merlin's skin against his. He's wanted this for so long, wanking himself nearly raw with the memory of the blowj*b in the closet.

Merlin presses against him, chest to chest, nipping sharply at the line of Arthur's jaw. A shudder wracks Arthur's body, and his aching co*ck gives a hard twitch. He feels Merlin grin, tongue flicking against the same spot before he steps back and reaches for the button on his jeans, toeing off his shoes at the same time. His eyes are dark and heated as he stares at Arthur, such open want on his face that Arthur's chest tightens and his throat threatens to close.

"f*ck, you're beautiful," Arthur breathes out, eyes dragging down Merlin's body as he finishes undressing. "I knew you would be."

Merlin flushes, kicking his jeans, shoes, and socks away. He wraps his hand around his hard co*ck and strokes, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. "Hurry up," he says, voice edged with roughness. "I've been wanting your co*ck in my mouth again for f*cking ages."

Arthur groans, leaning down to yank his shoes and socks off before undoing the fly on his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. He drops them on the floor and steps forward, pressing his body against Merlin's. It feels f*cking amazing, and Arthur can't resist slotting their hips together and gripping both of their co*cks. Merlin whimpers deep in his throat and kisses him, hard and bruising, his hand joining Arthur's to stroke them both.

"f*ck," Merlin gasps into his mouth, rolling his hips against Arthur's in small, hitching motions. He's already starting to leak, and he whines when Arthur drags the palm of his hand over the tips of their co*cks, mixing their precome together. "On the bed, before I come all over us both."

Arthur chokes on a moan, the image of himself covered in Merlin's come sending a strong jolt of arousal straight to his co*ck. "I wouldn't object to that at all," he says, but doesn't protest when Merlin pulls away and starts pushing him towards the bed. He falls down onto it, on his back, and shimmies backward until he's stretched out fully, his eyes locked onto Merlin.

Merlin climbs on after him, using his hands to push Arthur's knees wide, and he leans down to drag his tongue up the underside of Arthur's co*ck. It's just this side of familiar, hot and wet and the way he remembers Merlin's mouth feeling so many months ago. Merlin twists his tongue around the head, licking up the precome before closing his mouth around it, sucking lightly. Arthur groans, his hand coming down to rest on the back of Merlin's head, and Merlin slides his mouth down further, taking Arthur's co*ck deep, until the tip touches the back of his throat.

"Oh, god," Arthur gasps, hips hitching slightly as his fingers tighten in Merlin's hair. He doesn't want to stop, but he wants to feel Merlin clenching hot and tight around him even more. "Merlin. Merlin, you've got to stop or we won't get any further than this."

Merlin pulls back, dipping his tongue into the slit of Arthur's co*ck before releasing him with a small, filthy sound. "Look in the top drawer of that bedside table right there," he says, voice slightly hoarse. "Nothing else in the room has been touched, so there should still be a bottle of lube."

Arthur chuckles a bit breathlessly, twisting around to pull open the drawer. He pulls out a half-empty bottle of clear liquid and waves it at Merlin. "So did you use this with other people or were you just a horny little wanker?"

Merlin grins wickedly and takes the bottle, flipping open the cap and pouring some onto his fingers. "Mostly a horny little wanker," he says, and reaches behind himself. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, but then he pauses, opening them again to look down at Arthur in sudden seriousness. "There are no condoms here. I was always safe, though, and it's required that sorcerers get tested, so I know I'm clean. But if you don't –"

"Merlin," Arthur interrupts, his hand stroking along Merlin's thigh. "It's fine. I've been tested as well, and I'm clean too. And since I plan on being with you until you get sick of me –"

Merlin's breath hitches and he pulls his fingers free, leaning down to crush their mouths together. Arthur's heart is a wild staccato in his chest, a rush of heat and love threatening to overwhelm him.

Merlin pulls back and wraps his hand around Arthur's co*ck, slicking him with the rest of the lube on his hand. Arthur moans, hips jerking at the light strokes. Merlin watches him as he moves to straddle Arthur's hips, releasing Arthur's co*ck just long enough to settle above him. He reaches back and grips it again, pressing the tip of it to his hole.

Merlin sinks down, Arthur's co*ck pushing into the tight heat of his body. Arthur's eyes slide shut on a groan, hands coming up to grip Merlin's thighs, fingers digging into skin and his breath becoming shaky and labored. Merlin's hips move in tiny circles as he f*cks himself down, knees spreading wider until he's fully seated on Arthur's lap.

"f*ck, that's so good," Merlin moans.

He opens his eyes to look down at Arthur, giving a hard roll of his hips. A choked noise forces itself from Arthur's throat, and Merlin leans down to kiss him again, so hard their teeth clack together, one of his hands twisting in the sheets and the other burying itself in Arthur's hair.

Arthur's hands slide around to grip Merlin's arse cheeks, holding him open as he shifts to plant his feet flat on the bed. He needs to feel more before he goes mad, and starts to f*ck up into Merlin, hips snapping as he pushes his co*ck in deep. Merlin gasps in a breath, fingers tightening in Arthur's hair. His co*ck is trapped between them, barely rubbing against both their stomachs, and he whines in obvious frustration.

Merlin nips sharply at Arthur's bottom lip and then sits up, Arthur slamming up deep into him at the sudden angle change. Merlin cries out, entire body jerking, and starts pushing down to meet Arthur's hard thrusts.

"Christ," Arthur breathes, his whole body trembling as he tries to hold off on his org*sm. f*ck, he had wanted this to last, but Merlin feels so f*cking incredible, his body taking Arthur's co*ck all the way, squeezing around it and sending shocks of pleasure into the base of Arthur's spine. "I'm going to come soon."

Merlin groans. "Touch me, goddamn it."

Arthur doesn't hesitate to move his hand from Merlin's arse, wrapping his fingers around his leaking co*ck and stroking hard and fast, the head of Merlin's co*ck disappearing into his fist again and again. He realizes that Merlin is going to come just like this, sitting on Arthur's co*ck with Arthur's hand on him, and the thought makes him moan, fingers tightening around Merlin's co*ck.

"Ah – f*ck, yes."

Feeling his own org*sm pooling hotly in his spine, Arthur slides his other hand inward, until his fingers press against Merlin's rim, feeling where his co*ck is splitting Merlin wide open. Merlin lets out a strangled sound, eyes rolling back in his head, and that one touch is apparently all it takes; he comes, co*ck pulsing out his hot release all over Arthur's stomach.

"f*ck." Arthur's throat closes, back arching at the feel of Merlin's come landing on him. He pumps into Merlin a few more times before his org*sm slams into him. He moans a curse through clenched teeth, gripping Merlin's hips and holding him in place as his hips twitch, flooding Merlin's hole with his come.

Merlin collapses against Arthur, the cooling liquid smearing between them. They lay there like that for a long moment, until Arthur's co*ck has softened enough to easily slip from Merlin's body. They both hiss at the feeling, Arthur shuddering slightly. He wraps one arm loosely around Merlin's waist, his other hand coming up to bury itself in Merlin's hair, gently carding his fingers through it. Merlin's heart is beating wildly against Arthur's chest, his breathing harsh, and he closes his eyes as he presses a kiss to Arthur's jaw.

"You're heavier than you look, you know," Arthur says, soft and fond, heart full to bursting.

"I know," Merlin agrees, but doesn't even try to move.

Arthur huffs out a laugh, and tightens his arm around Merlin's waist as he wriggles slightly, tugging the sheet loose. He pulls it up over both of them, and even though Merlin tries to hide a smile against Arthur's shoulder, he sees it anyway.

"Sleep, shower, food," Arthur says, trying to distract himself from bursting into a long ramble about exactly how hard he's fallen in love. That can wait until they aren't naked and sticky and afterglow-happy. "In that order."

"Sleep, more sex, shower, food," Merlin corrects, sliding off and curling against Arthur's side.

"I like your plan better."

Arthur shifts until they're face to face, pulling Merlin's arm over his waist and then draping his over Merlin's. He tangles their legs together, and falls asleep to the feel of Merlin's soft breath against his cheek.

*

Early the following morning, the seven of them are grouped around the telly in the living room. Morgana is huddled next to Arthur in one corner of the couch, Merlin is on his other side, Freya is curled up on Will's lap in the armchair, and Gwen and Lance are pressed together on the love seat.

Freya had been able to coax the television to pick up several satellite signals with her magic, and now they're watching as every channel in existence covers the battle from the day before – and the governmental aftermath.

"And now we're going to cut over to Hilary, who is actually at the sight of the attack. Hilary? Can you hear me?"

The picture shifts from the dark-haired male newscaster to a split screen, with him on the left and a blonde woman Arthur vaguely recognizes from one of Uther's many upper-society galas.

"I can, Jeff, thank you." She gestures behind herself at the mass of rubble, the small microphone hooked around her ear allowing both of her hands to be free. "As you can see, there's not much left of what used to be our government's main offices. The attack by sorcerers yesterday has completely destroyed everything, and resulted in an immense loss of life. The Prime Minister and his entire cabinet have been killed, as well as most of Parliament. Our leading body is completely decimated, and as far as we can tell there has only been one death on the side of magic. There are so many happy families that have been destroyed, Jeff, and our nation is left on the crux of anarchy."

Jeff shakes his head, a scowl marring his perfect features. "You mentioned the one sorcerer's death – do we know who that was? And do we know anything about the others that were also there?"

Hilary nods. "Yes, actually, we know that the sorcerer who died is Nimueh Richards. We don't know much about her other than her name, however. Interestingly enough, the others who were with her weren't all sorcerers, and I think you have all of their names?"

"We do, yes. With the help of eyewitness reports, we've been able to identify the other five attackers. Interestingly, there are a few reports that claim there were seven others, rather than five, but since no one was able to confirm this we're going with only the five. And who a couple of them are will shock everyone, I think. Alex, do we have those pictures ready?"

There's silence for a moment and then the screen flickers, the side with Hilary being replaced with a picture of Morgause.

"This is Morgause Gordon, who was apparently Nimueh Richards' lover. From what we can tell, the two of them were the ringleaders of this group. They arrived first, followed not long after by the others."

The picture changes, and Arthur finds himself staring at a slightly younger Merlin. He thinks he might vomit.

"It took a bit of digging around, but we were finally able to pinpoint this man's identity as Merlin Emrys, age nineteen." A picture of Freya replaces Merlin's. "This is his twin sister Freya. The Emrys siblings are both extremely powerful and highly dangerous. Their parents were arrested for illegal magic use nearly four years ago, and died in prison. If you see them, do not approach them. Get away and call your local authorities."

"Jesus Christ," Merlin mutters.

A picture of Will is next.

"And this is William Daniels, long-time friend of the Emryses. As far as we can tell he isn't a sorcerer, but he is obviously on the side of magic and is considered very dangerous. Now, the next two pictures are the shockers, so I warn everyone to prepare yourselves. This is going to seem unbelievable, but we can assure you that it's very true."

Merlin reaches over and grips Arthur's hand; it's obvious who is going to be shown next, and Arthur's stomach churns violently. Sure enough, side-by-side pictures of Arthur and Morgana pop up on the screen.

"Yes, you are seeing that correctly. Arthur and Morgana Pendragon, son and daughter of one of the strongest anti-magic voices, Uther Pendragon himself. They were present at yesterday's attack, and were clearly there with Richards, Gordon, and the Emrys siblings. They didn't use magic, but rather guns, and we've had several reports that they killed quite a few of our government's officials themselves."

The pictures disappear, and Hilary is back on the other side of the screen, shaking her head. "That is such a shock, Jeff. Of all the magic sympathizers in the world, I never would have expected Arthur and Morgana Pendragon to be among them. I can't quite wrap my head around it."

"I can't either, to be honest. They seemed like such good kids while growing up, following in their father's footsteps. I guess this goes to show – " He breaks off, brow furrowing as he holds one hand up to his earpiece. "Hold on, we've got breaking news coming in. I'm sorry, Hilary, we're going to have to cut over to David, who has been at a secret location with the emergency government officials who were sworn in just yesterday afternoon. David?"

Hilary disappears, replaced by a balding man in a suit. "Hello, Jeff."

"Hi, David, what's going on?"

"Well, the newest officials have been in deliberations all night, and it seems they've reached an agreement on a few new laws. I'm not really sure how they're doing things right now, but it seems like they're skipping all of the usual channels for law-making and going straight for putting things into action. I don't know how they're able to do that, but considering the state our nation is currently in I'm going to say their quickness is a good thing. The people deserve to know what's going to happen now, rather than being forced to wait in limbo – and fear – for decisions to be made. And now we're going to cut over to our brand-new Prime Minister, Zachary Levinson."

The camera pans over to a tall, well-dressed man, his expression hard and unforgiving. He's standing behind a make-shift podium, guards on either side of him.

"Yesterday marked one of the most tragic and unforgivable acts in our nation's history," he begins, voice booming across the small room. "Despite our best efforts at tolerance and acceptance, sorcerers have shown time and time again that they are untrustworthy and dangerous. Yesterday's actions prove this beyond a shadow of a doubt, and we cannot let those responsible go unpunished. Everyone involved will be captured, and they will be put to death. But even as important as it is to bring those magic-users to justice, it is equally important that we prevent something like this from happening again. Therefore, we've put into place several laws for the protection of our good citizens. From this point onward, the use of magic is completely, one-hundred percent illegal. Those caught using it will be arrested immediately and persecuted to the full extent of the law. Death penalties will not be immediate, but will be used if necessary. Further details will be released to all television stations and newspapers so that everyone is fully informed. Thank you for your time."

Levinson turns and walks away, his guards falling in around him as he disappears through a door in the back. The camera pulls back and David once again comes into view. "And there you have it," he says, co*cking his eyebrows slightly. "Short and sweet and to the point. Magic is now illegal, and I have a feeling sorcerers won't like it one bit. I think we need to be prepared for more attacks –"

Freya reaches over and shuts the television off. The silence in the room is deafening, and Arthur vaguely realizes that Merlin is squeezing his hand so hard he can barely feel his own fingers. He knew this was coming, it has been for longer than he was even aware, but to actually hear the words magic is illegal and know that Merlin's life is in such danger makes his gut clench and a hard ball of anger and fear settle heavily in his stomach.

Will is the one to finally break the silence. "Well," he says, the same anger and fear that Arthur feels evident in his voice. "It seems like we have two choices. Run, and continue to run for the rest of our lives. Or we can fight, which is what gets my vote."

"I'm going to fight," Freya immediately says, eyes bright and gaze sharp . "I'm not going to just sit back and let them do this."

Merlin nods, eyes glinting with determination. "Fight," he says, voice strong and clear, and looks over at Arthur. "I hope you fight with me. I know it's selfish to ask, and I know I could do it on my own if I had to, but I'd rather the two of us – "

"Merlin," Arthur interrupts, unable to take hearing any more. "You don't have to ask me that. I've finally got you, and there's no way in hell I'm ever letting you go."

Morgana snorts, and Arthur glares over at her. "Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist," she says, sounding tired. "You know I only tease the people I care about." She gives Merlin a weak smile. "So yes, I'm going to fight. If you want me along for the ride, that is."

Arthur draws in a sharp breath, and feels Merlin's thumb rub comfortingly against the back of his hand.

"Of course we do," Gwen says to Morgana, and Merlin looks over at her in shock.

"Gwen, no. You and Lance haven't been identified, and neither of you have magic. You can go back to your lives and be happy."

"Don't be an idiot," Gwen says, scowling at Merlin. "How could you possibly think we wouldn't want to fight with you? It's our life and our choice, Merlin."

Lance shakes his head. "I think Gwen and I are on the same page on this one, Merlin. You and Will and Freya are our friends. What would we be going back to? A false life of security, living happily ever after while the people we care about are in constant danger? We'd never see you again."

Merlin swallows audibly, and Arthur can see him struggling to speak. Finally, he just nods, eyes suspiciously bright.

"Thank you," Freya says quietly, reaching over to squeeze Gwen's hand. "I don't think you really know how much it means to us."

Arthur feels Merlin lean against him, brushing his nose against Arthur's cheek, and Arthur turns to press their mouths together. This is going to be the hardest thing any of them have ever done, but he knows they'll get through it no matter what.

They have each other, after all, and that's more important than anything else the world can throw at them.