Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Arthur looked at the photo again. It wasn’t possible.

His hands were shaking so much the picture was a blur, but Arthur knew the face so well he could spot it in the dark. He didn’t need to feel the sharp cheekbones, the slope of a nose or the plush of the lips. He knew that face like it was his own. He felt a heat rise through his body, felt his fingers twitch, and felt himself start to gag. He had to sit down, before he fell.

“Arthur? Arthur, mate, are you alright?” Leon stood up, he walked towards Arthur, hands heading to Arthur’s shoulders. “Jesus Arthur!” Arthur was hunched over, face in his hands and file strewn across the floor. “What’s wrong?”

Arthur made a gruff sound, and Leon picked up the folder from the ground.

“It’s not… I mean you never care about the sorcerers. I get that he’s young, but he should know that he should be registered…” Leon stopped, scanning through the file and taking in a harsh breath. “Christ, they’re not sparing the rod, but I didn’t think you’d be like- shit.” And Arthur knew that was when Leon had spotted the name that had been rolling from Arthur’s tongue for the past few months.

Merlin Emrys.

***

The van was large enough to fit six people and eight times as many weapons. There was also a small cage, which Arthur tried to ignore while he mentally went over the plan again.

“Take an extra set of tranquilisers and a stun gun each.” Arthur wasn’t even surprised at how callous his voice sounded, it seemed only right he’d sound as detached and numb as he felt on the inside. Like it was a nightmare, the worst thing he could ever have imagined happening had been brought to life in less than an hour and a half.

The crew looked anxiously at Arthur, but followed the order.

“Arthur, we don’t have to-” Gwaine was standing up, hand placed on Arthur’s shoulder, but Arthur shook the embrace like it burned. He didn’t need them to comfort him, didn’t want them to excuse his mistakes.

“Take him in? He’s a corrupt sorcerer, like everyone else.” Arthur snapped. But, for a second- an awful second, he imagined if they left him. If he just didn’t arrest Merlin. If he could go back to his flat that night, curl up in their bed and pretend he didn’t know any better.

“Maybe, but we don’t have to be the ones to do it.” Gwaine mumbled.

“We’re the best and he needs to be taken in.” The words almost choked Arthur as he said them, but it was important. Because Merlin had to be something truly evil to seduce Arthur, make Arthur love him, and harbour all that rotten magic below the surface.

He was of Warlock level. All that power, he had kept it hidden.

It didn’t seem to match up, the Merlin who kissed Arthur both like he was something delicate and something addictive, the Merlin who laughed at Arthur’s jokes even when they weren’t funny, the Merlin who got up early to make coffee for Arthur could *not* be a wizard. He could not be so vile, filled with tainted power. He couldn’t be.

Yet, he was. The proof had left small ink stains on Arthur’s finger tips. He had stroked the picture over and over until it had gone blurry.

When Arthur had left earlier that morning, he’d kissed Merlin goodbye and promised he’d try to be home early, because he had something special in mind. And Merlin had grinned at him, and then kissed him back with such a passion Arthur had been smiling for half the day.

It turned out Arthur would be home early with a surprise for Merlin, just not one either of them would enjoy.

“Are we all familiar with the plan?” The crew looked among each other, clearly uncomfortable, but nodded anyway.

Arthur would go ahead in, subdue Mer- the sorcerer and hold him down, when he would then signal the rest of the team to join him. It was risky, and nowhere near the usual set up, but this was something none of them had ever faced before.

Arthur stepped out of the van, shoving his handgun down the back of his trousers, cuffs lodged in his back pocket and small tranquiliser dart in hand. All the things that would lead to the capture of the person he loved.

No, the sorcerer. The liar. No one could love such a creature.

Arthur stood alone in the lift, the rest of the team taking the stairs to reach his flat. Arthur sat down, breathing heavily and holding back screams and sobs.

Arthur opened the door to his flat, weak on his legs as he threw himself through and left the door unlocked. He stayed silent, still for a second. Hoped Merlin was asleep, hadn’t heard him, would never hear him. He hoped Merlin had heard, had started to run for the door and get away. He hoped Merlin would come bounding towards him and reveal it was all a lie.

He hoped for anything. Anything, anything in the world that wasn’t this reality.

“Hey Arthur!” That voice always made Arthur’s heart speed up, but it didn’t usually make him want to cry. He watched as Merlin jumped up from the couch, scattering papers and rubbing his eyes, awake from a dream and smiling at Arthur as though there were nothing else in the world. “Are you alright?” The concern Merlin showed would have been touching, if Arthur didn’t know it was fake. It had to be. Of course it was.

Arthur barely moved, taking a tentative step towards the man he thought he loved, he thought loved *him.*

“You know what’s wrong.” Arthur’s voice did not waver. He did not stammer. He was a soldier again, like he’d always been.

Merlin looked confused, even a little hurt at the tone, and Arthur’s blood screamed in rage. How dare this… wizard fuck him up like this? How dare this creature of complete evil walk into his life, make him fall in all the best ways and then hit the floor.

“Arthur, was it a bad day at work or something?” Arthur had told Merlin he worked in government, which was true, he was just never very specific about which area of the government he was in.

“Yes.”

Merlin was a few feet away from Arthur, and stretched out a pale arm to grasp at Arthur’s hand, acting like he wanted to help him. Arthur jumped away and hissed at him.

“Don’t touch me.” This was not the plan. Arthur was supposed to keep Merlin lulled in a false sense of security, then drug him, cuff him, and drug him again before reinforcements came. So far it was not working.

Arthur didn’t think it would hurt so much to see Merlin, though. He thought he could make himself detached, shut his emotions down, off, close them like he’d been taught to do so many times before.

“Arthur, what’s wrong?” Merlin had stepped back, because he always knew when Arthur needed space and did he have to be so perfect, did he have to make it hurt this much?

“You.” Arthur couldn’t control himself, and before he knew what he was doing had Merlin pressed against the wall, hands lingering on his throat but not pushing. Couldn’t make himself squeeze.

And Merlin, who was possibly the most powerful warlock of all time, simply stood with scared eyes staring at, into, Arthur, hurt and confused and worried. He should kill Arthur. Set his arm on fire, boil his flesh off, send him flying out the window and blow the flat into smithereens. Arthur snarled.

“Why did you do it?” Arthur was screaming.

“Do what?” Merlin looked so worried, and if Arthur didn’t know better he would say the worry was for him. “Arthur, get off! Get the hell-”

“Shut up, just shut up!” Arthur threw Merlin away from himself and stepped back. “Did you put a spell on me?” Arthur can all but feel Merlin’s blood run cold as he watches the colour (what little there was) seeping from the warlock.

“What?” It’s a whisper. It’s nothing, a hiss, a stripe of colour in the silence. It’s not a denial.

“You heard me, Merlin.” Merlin winced, it was the first time Arthur had said his name since coming home, and it was so full of hate. “Have you done some fucking magic on me so I would love you?”

Merlin opened his mouth and let out a squeak, and for a moment Arthur thought he was going to run.

“Because the only reason you could bloody like me would be magic?” Merlin shook his head. “Wait, Arthur, let me talk to you about-”

“You’ve been fucking lying to me, how should I know what’s real and what isn’t?” Arthur slammed his hand on the table, plan totally forgotten now he had Merlin pinned in a corner. None of it mattered, none of it fit, none of it made sense now.

“I have not lied to you!” Merlin was yelling, and Arthur had never heard him yell. Not in any of their other arguments. He moved his hand, maybe to shove Arthur off him, maybe to hold him, it didn’t matter. Arthur shoved Merlin further back to the wall. Maybe he would crack the cement, send them both tumbling to the ground.

“You didn’t tell me!”

“Because if I had they could have arrested you, Arthur.” Merlin’s voice was so soft, and his words were croaked a little. Arthur’s stomach dropped. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t risk you. The things they do to people in there, it’s the only thing I’ve been afraid of, losing the people I love to *them!*” Merlin sounded disgusted; he didn’t realize he was talking about Arthur.

“You don’t know a *thing* about it.” Arthur spat. Merlin was spilling out the usual crap that sorcerers and their blind defenders offered. The Sorcerers were taken in, dealt with however the government deemed fit, and the people that harboured them punished. It was the law, it was justice and Merlin was perverting it to suit himself.

He was warping Arthur’s career, Arthur’s cause, now Arthur’s one source of pride in this world. The only thing he had now.

“I do Arthur!” Merlin yelped, and Arthur noticed that he’d squeezed his hand around Merlin’s throat. He dropped his hand, shocked and hurting at himself for it. Merlin’s eyes were doe eyed, honest, that bloody genuine look that always made Arthur’s heart speed up. It was a lie now, though. Merlin deflated against the war, and he didn’t drop his gaze to Arthur. “My, my dad…”

Before Arthur had time to say anything, to do anything, to ask for whatever Merlin was going to say, Gwaine came bolstering through a back window and shot a dart into the back of Merlin’s neck.

Chapter Text

Gwaine shoved down the small body, squeezing out the last drops of tranquiliser and waiting for the figure to slump before locking it in handcuffs. He pressed himself harder in to the back of the wizard, crushing him on the floor a little until he went lax.

As the wizard clearly fell to the potion, Gwaine hoisted himself up, dragging the warlock with him, and trapped the skinny wrists in a pair of cuffs.

He didn’t miss Arthur wince. He also didn’t miss how pale his friend was, how sick and drawn he looked. Gwaine wasn’t sure if he should be more or less careful with the prisoner, knowing what he was to Arthur.

“Subject 8199 is under sedation and cuffed- over.” He stated through the radio, surprised at how light the sorcerer was.

“The other’s will be coming in a minute, mate.” He watched as Arthur stood up on jittery legs and gave a sharp nod. “Are you, are you sure mate?” They could wait. They could stop it all, Gwaine would lay himself on the line for Arthur to be settled.

“Jesus Gwaine, yes I’m fucking sure!” Gwaine decided to ignore the croaking in Arthur’s voice, instead beginning to pull the subject to the door to be picked up by the rest of the force. The man was standing up, back a flagpole. He would not creak or falter once they got out of this room.

“Altray.” 8199 muttered, and in a flash of heat and gold Gwaine found himself thrown back and held against the wall. With another word only Merlin understood, the cuffs fell from his body and released him free.

“Shit!” Gwaine was firmly trapped, locked in place against the wall, but otherwise he was entirely fine.

Arthur, on the other hand, looked like he was trapped in a flurry of a million emotions and his face was struggling to hold. He jumped up, to help Gwaine or to stop Merlin he wasn’t entirely sure, because before there was time for anything to happen Merlin had him pinned against the wall too.

“Merlin, shit Merlin, you-”

“I’m glad you’re fucking sure, Arthur. I’m so glad you’re fucking fine with sending me off and letting me die.” Merlin hissed, stepping towards Arthur and trembling with hurt. “Because now I don’t have to feel bad, now I know what I’m actually fucking worth to you. I always wondered, so thank God I know and we can move on with this whole thing.”

“Merlin, I just-”

“You’re just trying to make me sit around here and wait for the rest of them, don’t bloody waste your breath on me Arthur, I’m a lowly wizard, after all.” Gwaine watched, terrified as the sorcerer stood barely a few centimetres away from Arthur, and there was nothing that could be done until the team got there.

The door began to swing over, and Gwaine let out a sigh of relief, before he watched it slam shut so hard the wood splintered.

The sorcerer smirked at Arthur.

“See you round, sweetheart.” The sorcerer winked, before taking off to the fire escape.

***

Merlin should have fucking known it was too good to be true. That there was no way in hell he would manage to keep hold of his perfect boyfriend, perfect Arthur and their perfect little life together before it inevitably went to shit.

Because he had (stupidly) assumed that Arthur loved Merlin like Merlin loved Arthur, and that Arthur had actually meant it when said ‘nothing could make me stop loving you, idiot.’

“Damn it!” Merlin slammed his head against a brick wall, clanging his fists until they were grazed bloody and his voice was hoarse. “Shit.” He let himself fall against the stone, strewn among the filth in the alley way like he deserved to be. Filth, garbage, waste, magic, Merlin. It all ran the same.

Merlin pulled his phone out, fingers shaking, trembling like leaves as he searched for a number that he should have deleted a long time ago.

The phone rang, and Merlin wanted so desperately to hang up, but knew that he needed help as soon as possible, no matter what the cost.

“Hello, who is this speaking?”

“Hello Nimueh.”

“Mr Emrys? How long has it been since you scurried away from us in the night?” Merlin sighed. “Oh, no matter, I assume you’re calling to make it up to me, aren’t you dear?”

“I need somewhere to hide out, Nimueh. Can you help me or not?” Merlin ran his hand through his hair, desperate enough to send himself back into the belly of the beast. And quickly, he needed to go somewhere and keep himself safe.

There were still other people to keep safe, too.

“Oh, Merlin, the question we should really be asking is how can you help me? You know how this works, if I have no purpose for you then I can only wish you luck.”

“I’m assuming you haven’t found anyone else to fill my old position?” Nimueh’s laugh trickled through the phone.

“No, Merlin, at least none that did it quite like you, my dear.” Merlin could here Nimueh pencilling something in to her little diary. “Report to the old meeting place, I’ll have a car come fetch you back. Be there quickly Merlin.”

When Merlin was younger, he read a story about a man who sold his shadow for a bottomless sack of coins. The man received his sack, but he learned that men without shadows were shunned by society. The girl he loved did not want him, his friends would not see him and he became terribly alone.

Then one day, the devil returned and offered the man his shadow back, in return of his soul.

And Merlin had always loved the story, loved how the man denied the devil in this deal and learned to live in nature, until he was able to break the curse himself.

Merlin had sold his soul to Nimueh a long time ago, and he had tried his own type of escape with Arthur, and yet as soon as it failed he returned to the clutches of the devil without a second’s glance.

But Merlin was not a fairy tale character, neither a monster or a villain. Just a man, just a human. A stupid one, at that.

***

Merlin walked to the black car without a second’s trepidation. He knew which one it would be easily, the sleek style and obvious expense shining like a beacon among the tacky, rusted others that littered the car park. Still, though, it hummed enough of magic that no one would dare even look at it twice.

“Mr Emrys.” The driver gave Merlin a quick nod, waiting for him to buckle his seat before pulling the car away.

Merlin opened the back of his phone, sliding out the sim card and placing it in his back pocket before snapping the battery in his fingers.

Merlin wondered if Arthur would miss him. If Arthur would regret the way he acted towards Merlin, or that he’d escaped. He wondered if Arthur had ever loved him, if he even thought he did, if he wanted to.

Thinking of Arthur left Merlin feeling miserable, hurt and angry.

And guilty. Even if Arthur did want Merlin to be taken away, marched off, tested on, executed… It didn’t matter. Arthur could be in trouble now, the government could take him away and hurt him. Arthur had obviously been some kind of informant, probably gotten some deal to keep him safe. But maybe he didn’t. Arthur was honourable, he was a good man. And in the society they were in, good men hated magic. Good people despised it, swore against it, swore it as evil and cultish, as cruel and vicious. That’s what they were taught, it was bred in to people. There were even wizards who grew up believing themselves to be evil.

So, so few people knew the truth. And even fewer were willing to fight to prove it.

He wished that he had been able to tell Arthur. Wished he didn’t have to. Wished the world wasn’t *like* this. He wished he could have made Arthur understand before Arthur hated him.

But he couldn’t now. Too little too late.

So Merlin followed the habit of a lifetime, closed his eyes, and tried his best to stop his thoughts. Tried to shut down his aching heart, his swirling stomach. Merlin tried to do what he could do so easily when he was younger, shut it all down and off.

It worked when he was younger, until his mum would pull him out of it.

But there was no one now. Only Merlin.

And he had no interest in coming out of that numbness.

Chapter Text

The next day, Arthur sat and listened in silence as his boss berated him and his team for the loss of ‘an extremely dangerous criminal.’

And the whole time, Arthur wanted to stand up and scream that there was no way Merlin was all that dangerous or powerful because he was *Merlin.* Merlin left milk out on the balcony for stray cats, always put his change in the charity bucket, made extra an dinner for the man downstairs whose wife died a few weeks ago and did a million other lovely things that Arthur could barely even think about without wanting to cry.

Last night had been the worst night of his life. He’d been alone in the apartment, haunted by the shadows of Merlin that were left behind and no way of consoling himself.

Merlin was tainted, filled with the filth that was magic. Whatever made someone as sweet as Merlin allow himself to be breached by that force, Arthur would never know, and it made the pain so much sharper. There was nothing he could do to stop him, to save him.

It didn’t even make sense to Arthur. Merlin was one of the loveliest, most genuine and kind people Arthur had ever met, and each second he’d spent with Arthur felt like time doused in sunshine. But obviously, it had all been a front. A trick.

Maybe he was a spy, maybe he even knew who Arthur was.

He’d lost Merlin, yet he’d never even really had him. Merlin was a sorcerer, a liar; Arthur had trusted him like he’d never trusted anyone else.

“Arthur, Arthur are you even listening?” When Arthur looked up, he realized his boss had left the room and he was now alone with his team. “We’re going to pass Merlin’s case over to-”

“No!” They all looked shocked by Arthur’s response, and a few even looked ready to argue with him. “We’re the best, and I don’t trust anyone to handle it properly.” They all looked apprehensive. “We underestimated him, that’s not a mistake we’ll make again. Other people still may.”

“Arthur, it’s a conflict of interest on your part.” Leon was sat beside him, eyes looking worried and lip twined between his teeth. “You really care about him, and…”

“No, Leon. I thought I cared about him before I found out what he is. The only feeling I have for him now is for a job unfinished.” A blotch on his record.

Arthur truly wished he meant that.

But he must have sounded convincing or desperate enough, because the team looked at each other, then gave a nod.

***

The room Merlin was sat in was designed to intimidate and amaze both clients and workers alike.

The walls were burgundy red and laced with gold paint, and oak bordered. The furniture was all dark oak, three large armchairs, a desk and a coffee table. There were three large full windows, that Nimueh had blocked the light from with gold curtains.

“So, I’ll be needing you to sign this new and special contract, Merlin. Just so you know, this one is loop hole free and for longer than your last one was.”

Merlin had scrambled away like a rabbit from a fox the moment he could get far enough. The moment he actually had something to live for.

“Yes Nimueh.” But that was gone, at least for now. Living with Arthur, living with Arthur was no longer acceptable. But being here, staying back in this awful place, Merlin could keep what was left of the people he loved safe.

“And, I assume it goes without saying that if you double cross me, I will make you wish for something as quick as death.”

“Yes Nimueh.” But Merlin couldn’t hold back a smile there. She’d said it before, when he’d been a shaking, terrified little boy. But she hadn’t managed it last time.

“I mean it, Merlin. Just because you managed to worm your way out of our last deal does not mean you’ll have such an easy out again.” Nimueh passed the contract across the oak table.

“Yes Nimueh.” Merlin leafed through the contract, aware of the basics of the contract because it was essentially the same as last time, without the possibility of an early release. But Merlin still scanned it anyway.

Beneath the layers of technical jargeon, Merlin could tell the contract was basically outlining his reintroduction to working back here again, which involved missions into enemy territory, spying, acting as a ‘companion’ for Nimueh’s associates and whatever else the woman desired. In return, Merlin would be helping the other people in the organisation’s care, being protected from most outside threats and gets provided with shelter and food. Providing he did his job right.

Past experience would indicate he’d be fine.

“Do you have a pen, Nimueh?”

***

Once Merlin was signed in again, Nimueh had a young girl lead him to his new bedroom.

This was to be Merlin’s private room, for his own eyes only, and Nimueh had granted him space from even the cleaners. Tomorrow he would need to set up his flat for guests of Nimueh and his other work, but for tonight there was nothing in the world left for him to do than sleep.

His room was on the attic floor, small enough that it barely fit a single bed and a chest of drawers, but it was all Merlin really needed.

The flat he’s had near Arthur’s building was a bit larger. It was nice, not too big so he couldn’t afford (or justify) it, but still a liveable space he was proud to show to his friends. Although, he’d been staying at Arthur’s flat more often that his own, and that place was like the Tardis, infinitely large on the inside.

Merlin lay down on his new bed, spring in the mattress reminding him of Arthur’s sprawling limbs that he’d grown so used to in his sleep.

Despite his best efforts, that night Merlin fell asleep dreaming of a blonde head filled with crooked teeth and dimples.

***

Merlin’s new office (because that was all it was, really) had been decorated by the time he’d shuffled in the next morning, meaning Nimueh had wanted him to be prepped on the client by three in the afternoon.

He’d walked in to see the post it note reading ‘Your new name is Mordred Gorlois- at least in here!’ and a file slapped on his desk.

‘Name: Aredian Whelch
Age: 55
Employment: Camelot Industries, Chief Repressor of Magic
Brief: Foundation work for gaining Whelch’s trust, hopefully leads to further meetings in future. Do not be too intrusive or reveal powers. Client believes you to be a professional date, sex not accepted or paid for in this meeting, keep option viable for future.’

Merlin should probably hate his occasional work as a prostitute. It should make his skin crawl, skin flush, heart stammer. In truth, though, he didn’t hate it. He didn’t even mind it. The work he did here, him specifically, was good work. The organisation as a whole was a little iffy, but Merlin helped take down anti- magic terrorists, helped convince people to his side.

He’d been wrong to leave, he hated to think it but it was true. He had left his good work here, left his cause, because he had gotten afraid and he just wanted some peace. He just wanted some space, some solace with Arthur.

Once the girl from yesterday (Merlin learned she was called Freya) had informed Merlin his meeting would be happening in ten minutes, he had set the papers on fire with his eyes and sorted his hair and tie in the mirror.

The door to his small office opened, and Whelch walked in. He was a tall, balding man with a confident stride and handshake.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Gorlois.”

Merlin made sure to give his most charming smile, before shaking Whelch’s hand back and simpering:

“Please, call me Mordred. It’s my hope we’ll becoming well acquainted with each other in the future.” Judging from the smile Whelch gave him, and the reply of ‘call me Aredian’ Merlin judged he’d done well.

An hour later, Merlin had learnt some inconsequential information about Whelch, his personal and professional life, and had excellently laid the ground work for further visits, which were booked before Merlin had even closed the door.

So Merlin was back in an industry he could have sworn he’d never need again. Not after finding love in Arthur, finding a happiness he’d never believed to be possible. But he thought he could have pursued another channel, thought he could have done it another way.

He was wrong. This work still needed to be done in back alleys.

Even when the missions weren’t entirely reliant on physical and personal relationships, like when Merlin had broken into a government facility and released the records of the tortures that were being pursued in the ‘hospital’ for magicians. Even in those instances, he could never be entirely happy.

Before, he had been hot headed and furious, fire in his blood and the injustice of his own life and others. When he met Arthur, he’d turned to water, anger trickled away and he’d calmed down.

He didn’t know what he was now, though. Fire was burning through his veins, and he still felt some tranquil of the water. Maybe he was rooted earth, too.

But, without Arthur, he felt like nothing.

Chapter Text

Merlin had only ever really loved four people and the world’s hatred of magic had ripped all of them away from him.

It was the thought of their deaths that pulled him through each mission Nimueh gave him. Each creepy, magical hating official who ran their hands along Merlin’s flesh, each time he broke into a different building, each time he hurt, lied to or killed a magic hater, it was the deaths of his family that carried him through.

But, since Merlin’s return to Nimueh’s service, the thought of the fourth person made each mission so painful. Was Arthur in the position Merlin’s patrons were? Was Arthur being lied to, tricked by a spy? How different was Arthur to these men? Did he recoil at the thought of warlock’s like they did? Was he a spineless machine at the control of the anti magic government?

Did he miss Merlin like Merlin missed him?

It kept Merlin awake at night. The fact that Arthur hated him, that whatever love he thought he had for Merlin was burnt to ashes in a few words, in one accusation. It hurt, because Merlin knew no matter what he had been told about Arthur, it would not have mattered. He couldn’t stand to lose Arthur, someone he loved with every fibre of his being.

Yet he had.

He wondered how Arthur had found out, and how the government capture team had managed to find their way to the flat so quickly. He wondered if Arthur wanted to help Merlin, even a little, or if he thought it was all deserved.

Merlin wondered, and questioned and wished until his mind was as tired as his bones, until he had so many questions about Arthur his head buzzed and his own feelings were forgotten.

For the past number of weeks, Merlin went to sleep laying his most protective spells on Arthur, hoping no one would hurt him. Hoping no one hurt the person Merlin loved so.

***

It was only a matter of time until Arthur heard word of Merlin.

He’d been spotted with a government official, in a little café down an alley in nowhere. The official was called Edwin Muirden, and Arthur’s father had a bit of a hunch he was not to be trusted, that he was an ally of those with magic.

Muirden was also known to have a strong proclivity for prostitutes.

The idea of Muirden using Merlin like that made Arthur want to vomit, made his body shake and head hurt. He told himself it was simply the idea of someone so well established as Muirden resorting to the evil of the use of prostitutes, but it was the face of Merlin that clouded his thoughts.

“Arthur?” Gwen whispered. “Your father needs you to sign this last report.”

In the three weeks Merlin had been gone, Arthur and his team had captured four other sorcerers. Four other people had been so easily captured and condemned, and Arthur could only see Merlin in them.

He signed it, trying to give Gwen a reassuring smile but again he knew it fell flat.

Tomorrow, Arthur and five other members of his team were being sent out on a mission to capture Merlin. More information had come to light, and it turned out Merlin had been captured a few other times before, with different names, and had always escaped.

That should have convinced Arthur that Merlin really was evil. It didn’t.

The first time Merlin was incarcerated, he was eight years old. His mother had been killed upon his capture, in front of Merlin. Merlin had then been forced into various tests and experiments, too many for Arthur to read without needing to cry. Before the day of his planned execution, he had vanished.

The second time, a child named Charlie was found to be trying to save the life of his uncle with sorcery. Charlie was captured, his uncle passed on, and on the day he did Charlie vanished. They hadn’t even managed to check him for levels of sorcery. It wasn’t until years later someone had tied the two children together, and they had realized Charlie was an alias.

Which lead to the third time.

When Arthur got home that night, he started packing for the upcoming mission. He hoped that once Merlin was taken in Arthur would feel free, no longer tied to someone he shouldn’t love.

Arthur had himself checked, a while ago, in case Merlin had bewitched him into feeling this way. The Doctor had just given Arthur a sad look, and told him the only thing he felt was love.

***

“I will wait I will wait for yoooooou!” Gwaine bellowed. His hands slapped the wheel as he belted out the lyrics to the song, the rest of his team wincing as Gwaine butchered a previously decent song to pieces.

“For the love of god, please could someone distract him with something? Morgana, show some cleavage!” Percival grumbled. Morgana slapped him round the face, more for the effect than as though insulted.

“At least it’s not painfully quiet again.” Mithian whispered. “It’s been agonising to be so quiet around Arthur.”

“He’ll get over it. Once we put the warlock away. It’s the whole absence makes the heart grow fonder thing, isn’t it?” Percival replied. Morgana and Mithian looked sceptically at each other, neither of them had seen Arthur as smitten with someone as he had been with Merlin.

It was so unfair.

“I suppose I should ask, seeing as Pendragon’s off on a grumble. Are we all clued in on the plan?” Gwaine called, blessedly taking a break from his crooning.

“Aye aye captain!” Percival yelped. “So familiar it’s like an old friend, if you ask me to describe it again my tongue will drop out.”

“I just had to get the formalities out the way, before we started gossiping about Princess.”

“Gwaine! We were not gossiping!” Mithian snapped. She was concerned for one of her oldest friends, and she knew she had a lot of reason to be. That Merlin bloke had done quite a number on him.

“Yes we were, Mith dear.” Morgana clucked. “As we should be, the boy’s been an utter mess since the sorcerer was uncovered.” Morgana had never seen her friend so peculiar. One moment he would be a boiling rage, the next he’d be flat and lifeless.

“Do you think he really loved him?” Leon said it gently.

“Maybe. But then, Arthur didn’t even know what he really was, did he?” Gwaine yelled back. They all thought of how hard it must be to fall for someone, to love them, and to find out they were tricking you all along.

“I didn’t mean Arthur. I meant-”

“Sorcerers only love themselves, you know that Leon.” Mithian sniped.

“No, I mean-”

“Stop it. We know fine that there’s no way the sorcerer loved him. Arthur must be humiliated and-” Morgana stopped, suddenly spotting an extra presence in the room.

“He would probably like it if you weren’t discussing him.” Arthur drawled. “Don’t bother apologise.” He walked across the room, hand rubbing at his brow and eyes cluttered with bruises from lack of sleep. “You’re right. Leon, rerun the plan, we arrive in half an hour and I won’t have this mission fail like the last one.”

“Yes, sir.” Leon gave a dutiful nod. “First, Mithian, and I enter café. I sit with subject and Mithian watches to make sure he doesn’t escape. Mithian sends pictures to Arthur to be positive of subjects identity. After confirming subject’s current alias and identity I send signal to Gwaine and Morgana. Subject and I leave café, walk around to alleyway-” Everyone could see Arthur wince. He hadn’t taken it well to find out Merlin had become a prostitute. “-under pretences necessary. Morgana and Gwaine will be in alley way, Arthur and Percival will be seated above, all with dart tranquillisers guns. On command, we shoot, then I bind subject with magic compressor cuffs.”

“How do we know it won’t fail, like last time?” Arthur’s questions were relentless. They were just as much to quiz his members as they were to punish himself.

“Subject has been alone for considerable number of weeks. Most likely weakened. Weight loss noticeable from pictures. Will be lulled in to false sense of security.” The team repeated, monotonous.

“Good.” Arthur sounded anything but.

***

The plan had been organise meticulously, each detail entirely perfected, ironed, viewed from every angle.

Except the minor possibility that Merlin was not stupid enough to fall for their trap. Or his employer was. Either way, Arthur knew the man in the pictures Leon sent were not Merlin. But, before Arthur had a chance to do anything than snarl at the pictures on his phone, he saw the members of his team fall to the ground.

“Fuck!” Arthur yelled, jumping up to train his gun on whatever criminal had attacked them.

“Hey Arthur.” The voice sent a violent shiver along every bone of Arthur’s.

“I’m going to fucking kill you.” He snarled.

Arthur watched, in an equal measure of horror and awe as Merlin appeared, from thin air, right in front of him.

“No you’re not.” The gun was ripped from Arthur’s grasp by something so cold it could only be Merlin. Arthur growled, ready to run at Merlin and kill him with bare hands, before finding his feat locked in position. “Poor Arthur. Not sleeping right?”

“Let me go Merlin!”

“Well that’s un-bloody-likely isn’t it, Arthur?” Merlin smirked. Arthur couldn’t believe how different he looked; it even made his heart twinge. He was skinner, bones’ protruding far more than was healthy, even for him, hair short and eyes pale. “Because if I let you go, you’ll just send me off.”

“I could kill you.” Arthur snarled.

“I wish you would.” Merlin said with a harsh laugh. “I wish you’d be that kind. But you wouldn’t, you’d send me away, wouldn’t you? Let them take me again, let them hurt me again.”

Arthur flinched.

“How fucking said is this? Listen to this!” Merlin said, laugh sounding painful and devastated. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind worrying about you, terrified they’d take you in and torture you-”

“Nice of you to go looking then.” Arguing with Merlin was easier than wondering if what he said was true.

“Who do you think I risked my arse by coming near a government team?” Merlin’s eyes were so grey, so pale now. They didn’t glitter with blue like before. “Took weeks to lay the right amount of clues, to make sure it was the same team as before. Do you know how much effort it was gonna take me to find out the tiniest bit about you?”

Before Arthur had time to answer, Merlin began yelling.

“To find out you’re the mastermind behind the whole plan! You’re the one trying to get me, to punish me for something I can’t even help! To torture and kill me for, what? Living?”

“You shouldn’t have magic.”

“You know fine I was born with it. I’m assuming you’ve been rereading my file.”

“Yes I have, *Charlie.*” Arthur hissed. “At least I wasn’t the only one you were lying to. Seems the whole damn world has been tricked by you.”

“Oh and I it, Arthur. It’s a rotten world-”

“Because of people like you, Merlin! Because of that filthy magic that fills all the people like you!” Merlin closed his eyes, posture slumping a little and hands drooping.

“Is that what you think of me now?” Merlin’s voice was just a whisper. “After everything we were?”

“We were nothing!” The word’s scorched as they left Arthur’s throat. He never liked to lie, not even as a child. If he ever got in trouble he immediately spat out the truth. But he needed this to be true.

Merlin took a step back, and Arthur felt the magic tying him flicker for barely a moment. Hurt.

“I…” Merlin looked like a stabbed deer. “You know, I knew you’d think that.” Arthur was insulted that Merlin so instinctively doubted him. The irony was not lost on him. “I knew you’d feel disgusted you’d ever even touched me.”

Merlin stepped away, so he was a few feet from the roof’s edge.

“Even when we were together, I knew you didn’t love me.” Merlin spat, before stepping from the edge.

Arthur couldn’t help himself yelling out, telling Merlin to stop. Before he’d even heard a thump noise to signal Merlin’s landing, the magic binding him down and holding his friends in sleep bled from their bodies.

Chapter Text

Arthur sat in in a lazy, contended awe as he saw the lines of early morning splayed across Merlin’s back. The pale skin of his boyfriend’s spine was warmed in the golden haze of morning. Arthur reached his fingers out, slowly, to dip them along the column of Merlin’s spine.

Merlin seemed so frail at first. So lithe, so little, like a baby bird. But it had not taken him long to show Arthur he was anything but breakable. He had shown Arthur his strength, through the way he would fight back with words and never back down. He showed Arthur by pushing him into a wall for a bruising kiss, but taking whatever Arthur had to give and demanding more.

Merlin was cluttered in bruises. The splotches of purple and red marred his alabaster skin. Lingering hints of their nights, days, of any time they could get their hands on each other. Love bites, scratches, bite marks, bruises, Merlin’s back was like a canvas.

His eyes fluttered open, and the clear blue of them made Arthur a little breathless. The tendrils of sleep bled out, and Merlin gave a quietly blinding smile of perfect teeth.

“Despite what pop culture may have told you, watching someone sleep is very odd.” Merlin grinned. He stretched himself out a little and Arthur felt him writhe beneath his palm.

“Here I was, thinking of how perfect a moment it was, before you ruined it.” Arthur whispered. He leant forward, pressing a kiss to Merlin’s mouth. It should have been full of morning breath, but Merlin always tasted of mint and rain.

“Apologies.” Merlin replied, a little breathless after they’d parted. He wriggled closer to Arthur, until their legs were tangled and noses rubbed. “I’m sure I’ll make it up to you eventually.”

Eyes should not be that blue, skin that smooth, body that warm. A person should not be that perfect, yet Merlin was.

“Mmm.” Arthur replied. Merlin closed his eyes and snuggled in closer to Arthur.

Usually, Arthur couldn’t stand to be this close to a person, and certainly not for this long. Usually, he could barely deal with another body beside him unless they were both naked, fucking. Merlin was something special, something different. A stray star in a dark night. Everything he did made Arthur want to be closer to him, to touch him, to love him.

Arthur used to laugh when people said ‘make love’ because to him sex was a way to get off. That was before he met Merlin, and then every bloody clichéd line in the world made sense.

‘I love you’ Arthur thought. Merlin had said it, once or twice. He didn’t say it to hear Arthur to say it back, and Arthur suspected Merlin already knew Arthur did. Love him.

But Arthur hadn’t ever said those words to someone he loved like Merlin. He never had loved anyone like Merlin. He felt the words ‘I love you’ were too inadequate, trampled by people who said it too fleetingly. He felt so much more, so much more for the smiling idiot he’d moved in with. It was just hard to say.

So Arthur kissed Merlin’s forehead, smelled his hair and curled in closer, until the line of their bodies was invisible. Until they were so close he could feel Merlin’s heartbeat.

***

Arthur woke up from the dream panting, confused and dazed. He felt along the cold duvet for someone, for Merlin, before reality slammed back into him hard enough to raise tears.

The moment he had dreamed of, had remembered, was one of the few perfect things in his life. Now, it was just another thing tainted by magic.

***

Arthur’s life became agonisingly monotonous. He would go to work; they would hunt down a magical then fill in the paper work for it, and then repeat the action a few times a week. He would return home, usually alone, watch some crap on TV and eat something equally shitty, before going to bed and repeating the act the next day.

Sometimes he’d take someone home. A girl, a guy, handsome, not, it didn’t matter. They’d fuck, short and dirty, and Arthur would send them home.

His friends were worried. Arthur had become a shell, a husk, soul tied to Merlin no matter how hard he fought it. He’d been checked for any signs of a lingering spells seven times, and each time came up negative.

That night, at four in the morning when he found an old sock of Merlin’s that was left behind from when Arthur threw the other things in the fire, Arthur worried this would be his life. He would be torn between what he knew and wanted.

It had already started, his questioning of magic. Because as hard as he tried to convince himself, he could not see Merlin as evil. Bad, maybe, but not rotten. An accident but not a mistake.

Arthur vomited in to the sink as he thought of what had happened to Merlin. He tried to pass the guilt away, but it got harder to write off each time.

***

Merlin was spitting with anger by the time he got back to his base. Nimueh only raised an eyebrow and gave a sarcastic wave, uncaring of whatever he’d done.

“Nimueh, what did you say about a government mission?” Merlin hissed.

“I thought you had your own mission going on?” Nimueh replied, eyebrow arched. “Oh, taken care of then?” Merlin grunted in reply. “But I could have sworn you refused to enter the Government facilities?”

He had. Back then it had been too dangerous, if he was caught it would lead to the capture of Arthur, too. This mission was more than bordering on suicide, more than walking in to an open trap. But now he didn’t have an Arthur to lose.

“Do you want my help or not, Nimueh?” He snapped. She clapped her hands in mock delight and crowed:

“Oh, I knew you couldn’t resist! Just desperate to nail it to the government officials, aren’t you?” She stood up, walked through to her small office and beckoned Merlin with a hand. He didn’t bother contradict her.

Walking into Nimueh’s office made Merlin’s eyes hurt. It reminded him of the scared little boy he was before he met Arthur. He wondered what was worse, to be terrified out of his own mind or numb and jaded. To drown or to die of thirst.

“Alright, you’ll be going along with two other members. Not of this house, but they’re some of the best.” Nimueh explained. She began to relay off the plan, jealousy dripping from her voice. It wouldn’t do for a house owner to be captured. “I am surprised you’re so eager to get your hands dirty.”

“It’s for a good cause, isn’t it?” Merlin replied coldly. They were freeing the children kept in the ‘studying’ chambers. They were freeing people like Merlin had been. He would do a hell of a lot worse to prevent those kids ending up like he had.

“Would it matter if it wasn’t?”

“Yes.”

“Something’s different. What happened, did your little boyfriend die?” Nimueh smiled.

When Merlin had first come back to the house, Nimueh had taken him in, because Merlin was one of the best. He was a powerful sorcerer, one of the most powerful, but no one knew it. He was brilliant at getting information from people without them knowing it. He was a perfect asset to Nimueh.

But Nimueh wasn’t stupid. Merlin had run away before and he could do it again. He’d fallen head over heels for some blond man and flew away like a bird with an open cage. She wouldn’t risk herself again. One of her associates, a mind reader, had come in and scanned Merlin’s thoughts without his noticing.

All he could think about was some past love.

She knew he was doing his job, but she needed a little more… Assurance.

“Yes.” Merlin replied. She could tell there was something else bubbling below the surface. She knew the little boyfriend was most likely still alive. If he was repulsed by Merlin, that was enough. Perfect, enough to finally push Merlin on to the side of magic.

“Merlin, if you go on this mission, I need more than your word.” She primed. His glare was one of irritancy more than anger. “There is a lot at stake for out kind.”

“What do you want?” He sounded so tired. She worried for him, really. He needed to impress clients, and if he kept losing weight and getting paler he could lose it. Lose himself.

“You remember how I used to threaten the younger children with the golden bands?” She said slowly.

She used to send Merlin to bed with those stories. Stories of a golden band that clasped your body and kept hold of your magic. If it sensed any sort of thought against the wishes of the controller, it would block the wizard’s magic. If the wearer did an action against the wishes of the controller, it began to kill the sorcerer. Slowly, agonisingly.

“I am not wearing one of those.” Merlin yelped.

“No, I didn’t think you would.” Nimueh bent under her desk, pulling out a small metal box. “But this is a little different.” She opened the box and pulled out a little blue capsule. “This will be injected in to your wrist. It’s a tracker, and that’s all. If you vanish again, I’ll find you. It can and will be spotted by government officials. Its removal will kill you.”

“There are tracking things that won’t kill me.” Merlin reasoned, but he’d already crossed the room and extended his wrist.

“Yes, but you could still get away. You could still give away secrets.” Usually, when Nimueh injected the tracker in to people, they would double over in pain and curse. Merlin barely winced.

“But who would I tell?” He said with a wiry smile.

Nimueh smiled. Every person had their price.

“Report to me tomorrow morning. We will cancel your other meetings.” Nimueh planted a kiss on his cheek. “Remember, they have to be evil for us to be good.”

***

Merlin sat in the back of the truck, letting the voices of his team member’s crash over him in a slow lull. Their hatred of magic was odd, very biased and hardly justified. It seemed they had almost no real interaction with those without magic, yet they despised them with a hate that made Merlin flinch.

Even after being followed by it his whole life, Merlin did not understand prejudice.

He didn’t even hate the government officials, just what they did. How people could muster up hate for something they were or weren’t born with was stupid. To blacklist a quarter of a population for having an extra talent was insanity.

It wasn’t magic that corrupted, but power. With the way Magicals were treated, there was little wonder they wanted more of it.

“Hey, Mordred!” The girl, Morgause, snapped. Merlin kept forgetting his codename. “What’s your reason for coming?”

“Free the kids?” He replied, as though it were obvious.

“Well, yeah. But, there must be something else?” The large man, Odin snapped. “I mean, it’s a pretty big risk for some brats.”

“I’ve not got all that much to lose.” Merlin replied.

“Your life? Your sanity?” They replied. Merlin didn’t say a word; he didn’t feel like he had either of those things in his grasp anymore.

It had been five days since seeing Arthur. It didn’t hurt as much anymore, the blade in his gut had been dulled to a splinter. He could almost, almost, ignore it.

Merlin shrugged in response, and Morgause and Odin gave him an appreciative nod.

“Well, as long as we get the next generation out of there, it’s a success. Hopefully we won’t get trapped.” Morgause said, facing Odin.

Merlin wondered what Arthur thought of the kids in there. If he even really knew what went on.

He wondered if Arthur knew what he fought for. Merlin wondered if he even knew what he fought for himself. He wondered if he was a sacrificial lamb, or more of a ‘died for your sins’ emblem. It was hard to care.

He needed a goal, something to focus on and keep him grounded.

It would cost him a lot, to get the kids out of there. A blood sacrifice would be needed, to keep the doors locked forever, to keep Morgause’s spell working. He and Odin had each agreed to it, though. They had both been kids kept in that lab.

“Alright, I’m gonna run through it one more time, so listen up, Mordred.” Odin bellowed. “We go through entrance 4C, enter the kids ward ASAP. I’ll take the first slice, to get the doors open long enough to get the kids out. Then, Morgause does half the spell. She and I take the kids out here, we’ll get picked up and leave the car here for you. While that’s happening, you start the spell, make a cut, finish and get out.”

Merlin nodded.

“Best of luck, mate.” Odin nodded.

The van stopped, they grabbed their things and jumped out.

***

Merlin knew he would have gotten away. He knew he could get away before he damned himself.

He also knew, however, he would not to what it took to get out.

Merlin had lifted the sobbing child, the one who had accidentally tripped an alarm, and placed him in Morgause’s arms as the doors had closed. The little boy had blond hair and ocean eyes, and Merlin could not take the sounds of his heart break, or the thought of him being left behind.

Morgause had looked at him, surprised as she watched. If Merlin had slunk through the door alone, he’d have gotten away scott free. But he stopped, ran back and freed the little boy.

There was no other choice, really. Even if Merlin had cared about what happened after.

Then the metal doors slammed shut, iron rattled in Merlin’s head and the troops fell in with a cry.

He held his hands up, and kept breathing.