adelagia | Merlin fic: Shadowplay -- Chapter Thirteen [COMPLETE]

Title: Shadowplay
Summary: Stood down from duty on convalescent's leave, secret agent Arthur Pendragon wonders if sheer boredom might just do him in. But when his handler saddles him with a caretaker who is by turns completely inept and strangely brilliant, and invites trouble wherever he goes, Arthur has to concede that death by boredom looks less and less likely. Death by goon squad, high-speed car chase, poison, or fiery explosion, however...
Pairing: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: NC-17
Chapter word count: ~3,100
Notes: It's done! Big kisses to my brilliant beta

Merlin leaned back against the wall, exhausted. The adrenaline rush had all but worn off now, leaving him to deal with the pain alone. He closed his eyes; it probably wasn't a good idea, but the thought of just sleeping through the next week seemed heavenly.

He could hear Arthur taking stock of the bodies, confiscating whatever weapons came to light and piling them along the wall near Merlin, like a magpie with a particular eye for violence.

It hadn't taken Arthur long to dispatch the rest of the gang; there were only two of them left -- thank goodness for small favours and megalomaniacs with limited funds -- and by the time they'd come in looking for Nimueh, Arthur had freed his ankles, which gave him a lot more room to show off while putting the first man on permanent disability. Panicked, or perhaps just slightly cleverer, the second man had fled.

"Ooh," Merlin heard Arthur say amidst his rifling.

Merlin lifted his eyelids. Arthur had found a working mobile off one of the bodies. He instantly punched in a phone number from memory, shrugging off his suit jacket while he listened to it ring. Merlin shuttered his lids again, half-listening to the one-sided conversation.

"Morgana," Arthur accused. "Taking your sweet time, aren't you? Yes. Well, I'm alive, if that's what you mean. Need a med team, though. It's Merlin. Say hello, Merlin."

Merlin grunted.

"He says hello," said Arthur. "Also he says to tell you that you need to get your arses down here now, please. Yes, well, make it go faster."

A beep indicated that Arthur had hung up. There was a rustling noise, and then Merlin felt Arthur slide down the wall to sit next to him.

"You haven't gone and died, have you?" said Arthur.

"I wish," said Merlin. He opened his eyes and turned his head towards Arthur to find him folding his jacket neatly.

Arthur looped one arm around Merlin, gently tugging him close, and with his other hand, pressed the jacket to Merlin's wounded shoulder. Barring the blood loss and the shrieking pain in his knee, it felt rather nice.

"I'd prefer it if you didn't die," said Arthur quietly, leaning his temple against Merlin's.

There were myriad ways to interpret the meaning behind Arthur's words, and Merlin's insides responded appropriately with a high speed, seventeen-emotion pile-up that he didn't have the energy to deconstruct, so he fell back on safe ground. "Oh, well, since you asked so nicely."

"And when you're well, could you come back and be my butler again?"

Merlin chuckled, which he regretted instantly as his shoulder punished him for the jostling. "Don't make me laugh," he groaned.

"Sorry," said Arthur, a corner of his mouth lifting up slightly. "But Kay is awful. He doesn't understand me like you do."

Merlin smiled, though his heart tightened a little. He had fought so hard to get away from Arthur, to make himself believe that there was nothing there to hold on to, and yet with just one friendly arm over his shoulder and a few jovial quips, here he was, falling right back into Arthur's orbit where he didn't belong. Where he wasn't wanted.

"I'm sure he's more than adequate."

Arthur was silent for a moment. Then, "Well, he's not you, is he?"

Merlin raised his eyes to Arthur's, looking for the trace of sarcasm he hadn't heard in Arthur's voice. "I-- Er," said Merlin, but his voice fell away as he registered the sound of helicopter blades slicing through the sky.

Arthur seemed to notice it at the same time, and craned his head up as far as he could to peer out the window. "That'll be Morgana, I think."

Saved.

Or, depending on where the conversation had been headed, foiled.

Then again, Merlin's track record with these things wasn't what one would consider sterling. He'd once thought Arthur might be falling in love with him too, and where that had got him ended up was exactly here: wounded, bleeding, and confused in a dirty old fort.

Arthur slowly slid his arm out from behind Merlin's shoulders and got to his feet. "I'll go out and meet them, make sure they know where we are," he said, dusting grime off the seat of his trousers. "You'll be all right?"

Merlin looked up at him. After this, there would be a short stint in the hospital, and maybe, out of professional courtesy, Arthur would come and visit him once or twice, and then go on his way, cracking crimes and breaking hearts as always. And Merlin would heal, eventually, and find his own way.

He mustered up a smile. "Let's hope so."

*

Arthur followed the stretcher towards the waiting air ambulance. He squeezed Merlin's hand just before they loaded him in. "I'll see you at the hospital," he said, feeling an irrational pang of worry flare up in his chest now that he had to let Merlin out of his sights and leave him to the medical professionals.

He came away from the helicopter, watching its lift flatten the long, dry brush underneath, and then walked back inside to find Morgana.

She caught his eye and, delegating supervisory duties to another agent as a well-rehearsed clean-up crew mopped up the remains, beckoned Arthur to come with her to her car. It was parked well far away from prying ears, which allowed Morgana to say what she was about to say.

"You boys kissed and made up, I hope." She grinned. At Arthur's extremely unamused look, she relented, spreading her arms in capitulation. "All right, suit yourself. Go ahead; get it out of your system."

"You lied to me," Arthur said.

"I withheld information."

"You lied to me. You said Merlin had been fired."

Morgana's mouth twisted. "I asked him to do this one last job for me, to go undercover and draw Nimueh out, and he did. That's it. He's done it, and he's not coming back."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would you fire him and then--" Arthur folded his arms across his chest, as though it would keep his frustration in check. "There's something you're still not telling me."

She huffed out a breath of exasperation. "You're not the only agent I look out for, Arthur."

Arthur's brow furrowed as he processed the meaning behind her remark. "You're protecting him," he translated. "From what?"

She gave him a significant look.

"Me? What are you--"

"Arthur, you're a very good agent, but right now you are dumber than a brick."

"What?"

Morgana looked skyward, as though hoping to recruit assistance in dealing with him. Finding none, she took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. "I want you to know that I do not make a habit of interfering in my agents' personal lives, but frankly, I fear that if I don't intercede, you will never figure it out yourself, you idiot. And I don't say that in a playful, loving manner; I really do think you're an idiot."

"Well, now that that's established," Arthur said, narrowing his eyes, "will you tell me what the bleeding hell is going on?"

"The reason Merlin isn't coming back is because his resignation letter is on my desk. It has been for over two months."

"He resigned? Why?"

This time Morgana's expression softened. "What's the first rule of spy work?"

Without thinking, Arthur replied, "Guns first--"

"The other one. Merlin's rule."

Arthur's eyebrows knotted together as he racked his memories, and when realisation came to him, it fell like a tonne of bricks. That he was definitely dumber than. "Never fall in love with your mark," he said softly.

"And if I'm not mistaken, you haven't been adhering very strictly to that rule either, have you?"

Arthur scrubbed his face with one hand. "No," he admitted to the horizon behind her.

Morgana nodded. "Well then," she said, and held out her car keys.

Gracing her with an appreciative grin, Arthur took them and hopped into the car. He turned the ignition on. A thought occurred to him, and he stuck his head out the window. "Just to clarify, I am the mark in this scenario?"

"Oh my god, go."

Arthur might have laughed all the way to the hospital, so full of incredulous joy the only way to release the excess was to laugh or cry or shoot something. But he had already indulged in some gunplay today, and he wasn't about to let any of the other drivers see what a girl he really was, so he laughed, and he wouldn't remember anything of that journey -- which routes he took or what traffic was like or whose songs came on the radio -- except for a haze of happiness that followed him through the carpark, past the sliding doors, into the lift, and, finally, to the waiting room.

With Merlin still being sewn up in the operating room, there was little else for Arthur to do but wait, burning off his excess energy by snapping through months-old magazines and flitting around the visitors' area like a trapped bee.

By the time Merlin was trundled out from surgery and into a private room, the hospital's glare, fluorescent overhead and suspicious at the nurses' station, had successfully muted Arthur's vigour to more manageable levels. Which was probably for the best, as recently-shot convalescents were unlikely to enjoy having massive (but manly) hugs unleashed upon them, besides which, Arthur would be inclined to never let go.

Arthur sauntered into Merlin's room wearing a mask of calm -- unnecessary, as Merlin was still sleeping off the anaesthetics -- and seated himself in the bedside chair. He smoothed a bit of fringe over Merlin's forehead, and seeing Merlin alive and well let him release the rest of his agitation in a quiet sigh; he didn't need it now to drive him forward or keep his mind occupied. He was simply right where he needed to be.

"I missed you, you know," said Arthur. He took Merlin's hand and waited.

It was another quarter of an hour before Merlin stirred. He blinked, unfocussed. His disoriented gaze settled on Arthur, and Merlin blinked again. He edged himself up the pillows into a sitting position. "You're here," he rasped through a dry throat, surprise etched in his tone.

Prepared, Arthur handed him a glass of water and let Merlin drink his fill before replying, "Where else would I be?"

Merlin tried for a smile. "Isn't there paperwork to do? Reports to file?"

Arthur shrugged. "Later. Besides, you'll have to write one, too, so I'm pretty sure it can wait till you're better."

"I'm a civilian now," said Merlin. "I don't have to write anything."

"Why did you quit?"

Merlin averted his eyes, and Arthur could see a lie forming on his lips. "I--"

"Morgana told me," Arthur interrupted, before Merlin could feed him another story.

"Then why are you asking me?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Conflict passed over Merlin's pale face, ending in a tired impasse that rattled past his lips in a long sigh. He looked at Arthur steadily. "Things were already complicated enough without me throwing soppy emotions at you. It was better for us both that way, and the case."

"Do you remember," Arthur said, taking care with his words, "when you said how sad it was that Alvarr never even knew he'd had a second chance? With Enmyria?"

Merlin's brow furrowed, the thread of the conversation eluding him. "Yeah," he said slowly, uncertainly.

"Well, I think we had it worse; we had it all wrong. I think neither of us realised we even had a first chance. And now," said Arthur, wrapping his fingers around Merlin's, "I'm taking my second."

Merlin looked at their entwined hands. His eyes lifted to Arthur's face. Trepidation clouded them, but a breath of hopefulness tinged his voice as he asked, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you and I--" Arthur paused, groping for the right words. Everything that came to him seemed at once too big and too small for what he needed to tell Merlin. Impatient with himself, Arthur charged ahead the best way he knew how. "This is happening, you and me, whether you like it or not. And I must say it would make things significantly less awkward if you did, so do try to be amenable, Merlin."

His eyes shining with understanding and just the tiniest bit of laughter, Merlin tugged at Arthur's hand, pulling him forward till their lips touched. It was sweet and familiar, and it felt like coming home.

"Well, when you put it that way," Merlin said, raising his eyebrows at Arthur. His shoulder lifted in a noncommittal shrug, an impish smile on his face belying the gesture. "I'll think about it."

"Excuse me," said Arthur, leaning back in his chair again, the indignation in his voice totally undermined by the fact that his face was fixed in a grin, "I just gave you my heart on a platter, and you'll think about it?"

"Oh, sorry, was that a heart? Seemed more like an imperial edict to me."

Arthur squeezed Merlin's fingers, warmth flushing his face. "It's all these drugs they've put you on, muddying up your comprehension skills worse than usual. Can't even tell when someone's trying to tell you they love you."

"Yeah? So what's their excuse for not realising till recently that I love them back?"

"They're pretty thick when it comes to things like that," Arthur conceded.

"I'll say. That's not even the half of it."

"They also think you're pushing it."

Merlin laughed, and the sweet sound of it swelled Arthur's chest. Arthur, unable to help himself, slid forward again, and Merlin's laughter dissolved in the warmth of his kiss.

*

Two Christmases passed before Hunith finally got her wish on the third, when Merlin hauled Arthur down to Ealdor for a proper family celebration, paper crowns and all. They watched the Queen's speech whilst squished into a single armchair, each ended up two pounds richer from generous servings of Hunith's plum pudding, pulled Christmas crackers and groaned at all the terrible jokes.

If Arthur was uncomfortable among all of Merlin's nearest and dearest, he certainly didn't show it, his smile shining like newly polished silver, and Merlin couldn't help but grin just as brightly. Arthur was here and they were together, and all signs were pointing to the best Christmas ever.

It was nearly midnight by the time the last cousin staggered off home, and Merlin and Arthur retreated to Merlin's old bedroom after clearing up and bidding Hunith a restful night.

Merlin closed the bedroom door behind them and said, "I know we already did presents this morning, but I have something else I wanted to give you. Er, you know, in private."

Arthur tilted his head. "Oh. Well, as it turns out, so do I," he said, rummaging in his suitcase for it.

He waited for Merlin to take his from the back of the cupboard, and made a simultaneous, formal exchange of gift boxes, nodding at the transaction as though they were both handing off hostages or briefcases of millions.

"Open yours first," said Merlin, bouncing lightly on the edge of his bed.

Settling in next to him, Arthur complied, tearing layers of cheery wrapping paper off the box. Inside he found another wrapped box. He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously, Merlin?"

Merlin chuckled and shrugged.

Three decoy boxes later, Arthur drew out the last one, his fingers closing over a red velvet box. He glanced up at Merlin, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, and eased the lid open. A ring shone at him.

Arthur's cheeks grew pink. "Erm. Well, this is a bit unexpected."

Oh god, Merlin thought. It was too soon. Or maybe never would still be too soon. He knew what Arthur's life was like, had lived it once; he knew how the agency and, by default, Arthur, felt about agents keeping close ties. They simply weren't supposed to; it was a potential weakness. But then three years had passed, and Merlin had even moved into Arthur's shiny new house, and he had thought maybe, maybe this was meant to last after all.

Then again, judging by the slight downturn of Arthur's mouth, maybe not.

"I--" said Merlin, panic tumbling out in speechless waves. Frantic thoughts of snatching the ring back and shouting, "Just kidding!" whizzed through his head.

Arthur's brow lifted. He laid a calm hand over Merlin's and smiled, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips, and Merlin's silent hysteria slowed to mere Mach 2 levels. It wasn't quite an answer, which meant it wasn't a no -- at least, not yet.

"Why don't you open yours?" Arthur said, nodding at the gift box in Merlin's lap.

It was small and square, wrapped with precision in dark blue striped paper. Just as he had done with every Christmas present since he had developed fine motor skills, Merlin held it up to his ear and shook it; something inside rattled dully against the confines of the box. Carefully, he ran his fingers under the sellotaped edges.

"Hurry up," Arthur said, nudging Merlin's shoulder.

"Okay, okay," Merlin said, giving up his fastidious unwrapping techniques before Arthur did it for him. Merlin tore away the rest of the wrapping, revealing a nondescript paper box; he lifted the lid and bit back a wild laugh when he saw what was inside.

"Great minds, I suppose," said Arthur.

Merlin fished the leather ring box out and opened it, turning it in his hand so that the plain platinum band nestled inside caught the light.

"Great minds," Merlin agreed.

Arthur slipped his ring on, his lips curving upward as he admired it on his hand. His smile widened when Merlin did the same. "Well, I guess that settles it," Arthur said. "You're stuck with me now."

"I suppose I could think of worse fates," Merlin sighed, leaning into his shoulder. "Like not being stuck with you."

Their lips met in a shared smile.

"We should tell your mum at some point," Arthur suggested.

Merlin edged towards the centre of the bed, tugging Arthur down with him. "Tomorrow," he said, his fingers tracing a smooth line down the back of Arthur's neck, writing a promise of something more.

Arthur's hands skimmed over Merlin's hips, and he dipped his head, pressing a slow kiss to Merlin's mouth. "Tomorrow," he breathed.

Tomorrow, where all signs pointed to the best day ever, and every day after that.

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Posted by

tama_abi

\O/

OF COURSE they would propose at the same time. Boys <3
And OF COURSE Morgana would need to smash Arthur on the head for him to open his damn eyes! *gleeful laugh*

Thank you!

DO you think you could post a PDF version of it at some point?

Posted by

Merlin fic: Shadowplay -- Chapter Thirteen [COMPLETE]

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