Work Text:
“Hey.” Merlin called into the house and kicked the door closed behind him. He was annoyed, Arthur hadn’t called him since yesterday morning and he didn’t mention their anniversary at all. The call lasted long enough for a quick ‘good morning, I love you’ and Merlin had not heard from him since. Merlin looked around and noticed that the hallway was surprisingly uncluttered, the usual mess of Arthur’s football kit, Arthur’s keys and wallet thrown on the side, Merlin’s own mass of scarves, and whatever weird and wonderful accoutrements that kind with their never ending string of guests, were all neatly stacked and lined up by the door. Merlin frowned down at the set of trainers with their toes touching the skirting board that were occupying the space he would normally use to kick of his own trainers. Something about their alignment made Merlin pause, if he was going to give it a name it would probably be meticulous, and meticulous was not a word merlin would associate with his husband. In fact, today was not often a word he would associate with his husband either. If you were to ask Merlin, he would probably say that he wasn’t even sure that Arthur knew what the word ‘tidy’ meant. Half the time Merlin felt more like a butler than a husband, but that was not important right now, what was important was the eery silence of the house that followed his initial greeting and the too perfect placement of everything in his hall.
As stealthily as he could, which if you asked Arthur how stealthily that might be he would say the same about Merlin and stealth as Merlin says about Arthur and tidiness, Merlin dropped his grocery bags on the floor and tried to remember the training Arthur made him take when they first started dating. Apparently that kind of thing came with the territory of dating a weapons-company-owning-big-shot’s son, a lot of threats. Merlin had tried to learn for days but after seeing Arthur’s sad-disappointed face one too many times he might have resorted to using a spell to make everyone think he had learned it. He was regretting that decision now. His magic was great, but when he needed to be quiet his magic tended not to cooperate.
It’s probably nothing, Merlin tried to convince himself, probably just Arthur’s fallen asleep or something and maybe he remembered he missed our anniversary yesterday and he’s trying to make it up to me by tidying. Merlin had to suppress a snort at that thought because there was no way that Arthur’s idea of making it up to him would include tidying.
Merlin worked his way to the back of the house, grabbing a knife as he slipped through the kitchen. He looked up when a creak came from the floorboards above him. Having lived with Arthur for nearing ten years now he knew that it was not Arthur’s footstep, it was too light. Taking a quick peak into the lounge to finish his sweep of the floor Merlin rounded on the stairs.
They lived in an old house and at least every other star creaked if you stepped on it wrong. Merlin had never felt this nervous about climbing a set of stairs before in his life, not even when he was interviewing for the head of department position at his university. A position which he got, by the way.
There was only one open door upstairs, and everything in Merlin screamed danger at him, told him not to go in there. But he hadn’t seen Arthur yet and damn everything, there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for that man. So Merlin tiptoed his way to the bedroom, still hoping that this was all just some elaborate rouse… thing that Arthur has set up to stop him from being mad. He was very wrong.
Merlin’s instinctual magic did nothing to help him. Mordred was younger and faster and had learnt from Merlin himself. Mordred flung him into a wall and Merlin, stunned from hitting the surface head first, took too much time recovering. A quick spell from mordred sent leather cuffs flying onto Merlin’s wrists and in that instant Merlin felt his grip on his magic fall away. He could still feel it bubbling up against his skin, trying desperately to burst through and protect himself, protect Arthur, and eventually Merlin knew that it would break free from the suppressors. But Merlin was not entirely sure that they had that kind of time to wait.
Merlin came back to his senses when Mordred forced him to his feet and pushed him in front of Arthur. The knife that Merlin had grabbed from the kitchen was in Mordred’s hands and oh god why oh why did he decide to take a knife when he had magic, what a ridiculous idea, Merlin admonished himself. Fucking idiot, he added when the knife was brought up to rest against his jugular. Greatest sorcerer who ever lived and I’m going to be taken down by a bloody kitchen knife. Screw destiny, really, just fucking screw destiny. Next time he saw Kilgarrah, because there had to be a next time since he had some yelling to do, Merlin was going to tell him to shove his Once and Future King bullshit up his arse because he could not possibly be the real Merlin reincarnated if he was about to be killed by a moody teen with a bloody kitchen knife.
“Nice of you to join us, professor.” Mordred grinned. Merlin felt himself sway as he looked around the room. In front of him Arthur was tied to a chair , unconscious, with a piece of duct tape over his mouth.
“Mordred.” Merlin swallowed and felt the blade uncomfortably close to his skin. Just a little more pressure from Mordred and Merlin’s next swallow would probably draw blood. “What are you doing?”
“You’ve never liked me much have you, Professor?” Mordred threaded his free hand through Merlin’s hair and gripped the curls above his neck. Merlin winced when Mordred tugged on the curls, pulling at the sensitive skin from the wall impact.
“Mordred.” Merlin tried again, his voice wavering slightly. “Why are you doing this?”
“Oh, Merlin. Merlin, Merlin, Merlin.” Mordred tipped the knife down to Merlin’s collarbone and cut a short, precise line, just enough to draw blood. “You thought I wouldn’t find out? Hm? Thought I’d just keep going along with your little reality rewrite? You think I can’t see your hand all over this, Emrys? You think I’m an idiot?” Mordred’s voice rose with every question. “You bring us all back and me, you bring me, back and you still treat me with the same disdain. You wrote this new reality, why did you write me as a villain again?”
“You’ve got it wrong, I didn’t do this. It’s destiny-“
“Destiny.” Mordred scoffed. He pulled the knife away from Merlin’s neck and kicked his knees. Merlin dropped to the floor with a jolt of pain that ran up through his thighs before the knife was carelessly dropped along his throat again. Merlin was cursing every god and goddess he knew, which was quite a lot, that destiny had chosen him for all of this bullshit. This was really more than one man should have to deal with. “That was always your excuse. Destiny.” Mordred swiped the knife along Merlin’s shoulder and up to his ear. The precision of the earlier cut was gone and in it’s place Merlin could feel the anger surging through the blade. “What utter bullshit! Give me one good reason I shouldn’t just slit your throat right now and be done with it? Do you think that your precious Once and Future King would survive too long without you? You’ve not found Morgana yet, or Morgause. But maybe you just haven’t looked hard enough, Emrys. I found them pretty easily. Of course, neither of them remember themselves, who they were, their power. But I do, and I know you do too. I wonder what our little king here remembers? His knights? His round table? His Guinevere?”
Merlin could feel his magic rising up and burning under his skin. Close, but not close enough for him to do anything with.
“Of course, maybe Guinevere doesn’t feature in this timeline? Did you make that happen or was that just a lovely coincidence for you?”
“Mordred, you’ve got this all-“
“Shut up!” In his anger Mordred slashed Merlin’s back, shoulder to hip, then pushed him to the floor. Merlin pushed himself back onto his knees and tried to get to his feet.
“I didn’t do this, I swear. I never wanted this for you. I tried to help you once but your destiny… I can’t fight destiny.”
“Stop with the destiny shit. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“I can’t control any of this. I didn’t make this world. The prophecies always said-“
“Yes, yes. The prophecies said that the Once and Future King would return in Albion’s time of great need. I know that. I just didn’t think I’d be returning along with him. I was at peace and then you drag me back into this world that stinks, and it’s loud, and people are selfish and look at the governments. Why did you bring me here!” Mordred grabbed Merlin’s shoulders and ran him into the wall, holding him there with Merlin’s t-shirt gripped in his hands. “So if I kill you, if I kill both of you, will I get to go back?” And suddenly Merlin understood. He knew about his past life, knew that he had lived a long time ago in Camelot, but he didn’t remember it. Mordred did, he remembered every detail and everything that came after. Merlin couldn’t imagine having two lives in his head at one time, he was developing a headache just thinking about it. Or maybe that was the head injury getting to him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you have to go through this again, I’m sorry that you remember it all. But you have to believe that I had nothing to do with bringing anyone back. I don’t even remember anything from Camelot. All I have is a cryptic old man who apparently used to be a dragon? Which honestly what? I’ve not been looking for Morgana and Morgause because I knot even know if they’re the big bad that we’ve all come back for, I don’t know if we’re all falling into our old roles. I don’t think you’re a villain, Mordred, I swear that I don’t. No matter what you did the last time we were alive, I dont even remember.”
“Stop lying!”
“I’m not lying.” Merlin could see the tears forming in Mordred’s eyes. And finally, finally, his magic split the cuffs on his wrists. Merlin took the opportunity to force Mordred off him. “I don’t know what the future has in store for us all, but if you trust me, really trust me, I can make this all work. I will do everything I can to make it all ok.”
“I don’t know if I can.” Mordred’s voice broke and Merlin saw him for the child he was, scared and vulnerable and alone.
“That’s ok, just sleep.” Merlin muttered a spell and caught Mordred as he slumped to the floor. The weight of the younger man tugged at his wound but he laid him on the floor as gently as he could. All Merlin wanted to do then was curl up and sleep for the next fifty years so that whatever it was that they had come back to defeat would be gone and he could live out the rest of his life quietly in retirement. But his instincts to protect Arthur were far stronger and so when mordred was safely on the floor Merlin worked on removing the rope from Arthur’s wrists and ankles.
Arthur fell forward into Merlin who began searching for any sign of injury that he would need to fix. He was already forming a plan about what to tell Arthur about this whole situation. It felt oddly familiar, working out a way to lie to Arthur, but he didn’t pause for long enough to wonder why. Arthur would give Mordred a second chance, Merlin was certain, if Mordred hadn’t hurt Merlin. That was going to be the tipping point between forgiveness and vengeance and Merlin wasn’t sure how to avoid that.
Merlin dragged Arthur onto the bed. Maybe he could persuade him it was all a dream if it wasn’t for the cuts running across his upper body. He wasn’t very good at healing spells and Kilgarrah had told him that that wasn’t a new development. Merlin wasn’t overly fond of the notion that he had not improved his skills in this second time around life but he had accepted it as something he needed to work on. He fleetingly thought of asking if Mordred was any good at healing but Arthur shifting on the bed brought him back to the present.
“Arthur?” Merlin gently shook his husband’s arm.
“Mmf, five more minutes, Merlin.” The mumbled response was heart warningly familiar, albeit usually frustrating. “Merlin!” Arthur shot upwards and looked rapidly around the room.
“Right here.” Merlin pressed his palm against the side of Arthur’s face and guided it towards him.
“Are you alright? Someone came into the house and I thought it was you and then…”
“I’m fine, Arthur, just a few cuts. Did you see who it was?”
“No. No they attacked me when my back was turned. Coward.” Merlin was very glad that Mordred was not awake to hear this. Arthur finally drew his gaze away from Merlin’s face and his eyes narrowed at the blood along Merlin’s shirt and shoulder. “You can explain while you let me look at those cuts you don’t want me to notice.” Merlin winced. He had hoped that Arthur’s attention could be diverted for longer while he tried to figure out what he was going to do about them but fate did not seem to be on his side. Then again, when did it ever? Arthur wandered into the en suite bathroom and started rummaging around in the cupboards.
“I came home and something felt off so I grabbed a kitchen knife and I came upstairs-“
“A kitchen knife? Merlin, you have magic why on earth did you take a knife?”
“Thanks, I’ve already mentally yelled at myself enough for that. And anyway, it’s a good thing I did. This guy had some sort of magic dampening ability, my magic was nearly useless most of the time. It was almost like it had to charge up.”
“So he was a sorcerer too?’
“Maybe.” Merlin shrugged. Arthur returned and tugged Merlin’s shirt over his head then sat behind him to look at his back.
“Not deep enough for stitches.” Arthur murmured.
“Oh thank god.”
“But it is gonna hurt for a while. The others will probably heal pretty quickly but this one might scar.”
“That’s alright, I’ll look tougher with scars.”
“Don’t get distracted keep explaining.” Arthur took a disinfectant wipe from the first aid kit and tore it open. “Also, I like my husband perfectly fine without a giant scar across his back, no need to look tougher.”
“Right, yeah, so I cam upstairs and he threw me into the wall-“
“He did what!”
“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Merlin hastily tried to reassure Arthur. “Just bumped my head a little but I’m all good. Behind him, Arthur narrowed his eyes again and made a note to check his idiot’s head before he let him go wandering off anywhere. “So the knife got away from me, and you were unconscious on the floor already and we fought. Then Mordred came in-“
“Mor-who?”
“Mordred, he’s one of my, uh, magic students. Great kid. I promised him some extra tutoring but I only had the books at home so I told him to come over and thank god I did because he got here just in time. If he hadn’t come in when he did I don’t know what could have happened, honest.” Merlin continued to ramble even though his brain was screaming at him to not oversell it to Arthur. But the words just wouldn’t stop coming and Merlin cursed everything for making him so talkative when he was nervous. “He kind of saved us both. He’s quite good at hand to hand combat, got the knife away from the guy and shot him through a portal.”
“I thought there was magic dampening on this guy?”
“Yeah, there was. Must’ve been time limited or something cos I started feeling my magic coming back around that same time. Anyway, then Mordred sat down and must’ve fallen asleep from magical exhaustion or something. Oh fuck he’s still on the floor I should go-“ Arthur placed a firm hand on Merlin’s shoulder when he tried to get up. So close to getting away from the wound cleaning torture and yet so far, Merlin thought dismayed.
“Sit. We’ll deal with him later. Now stop squirming so I can finish cleaning this. Did you even grab a clean knife?”
“But it hurts.’ Merlin whined as the sharp sting of disinfectant came down on one of the open cuts.
“Big baby.” Arthur tossed the used wipe into the lid of the first aid kit and started prodding Merlin’s head. When he was satisfied that there seemed to be no lasting damage he got up and started clearing everything away. “Get some sleep.” Arthur said. “I’ll move Mordred into the guest room.”
“Yeah, ok.” But Merlin did not sleep. He watched Arthur leave the room with Mordred in his arms and waited impatiently for his return. When Arthur crawled into the bed with him Merlin let go of some of the tension from his shoulders. Arthur traced circles on the back of Merlin’s hand.
“We should probably call the police.” Arthur mumbled halfheartedly.
“No, we dealt with it. And if he’s a sorcerer that falls under my jurisdiction, not theirs.” Merlin’s tone darkened.
“Well technically, the law doesn’t differentiate-“ Arthur started to tease.
“The law doesn’t know that it should.” Merlin said sharply. Mordred was his responsibility and he had to make sure that he didn’t mess anything up. Had to make sure that neither of them messed anything up. Which meant keeping Mordred close. All the teasing drained from Arthur and made way for a more serious approach.
“I know.” They stayed like that, Arthur tracing circles on Merlin’s hand and Merlin’s mind running in circles about his duties as Emrys, in silence for an hour.
“Do you want something to eat?” Arthur broke the peace. Merlin shook his head.
“I’m going to check on Mordred.” Arthur, though he wanted to, did not protest and padded downstairs to make them cups of tea.
Merlin lingered in the spare bedroom doorway for longer than might have been considered reasonable. All he had to do was go in and say a few words and Mordred would be awake again.but it was comforting to know that at that moment in time that Mordred could do no more damage to his life. Merlin stood by the edge of the bed. Looking down at the sleeping boy Merlin could not reconcile that peaceful image with the man who had held a knife to his throat, with at least a partial intention to kill.
Merlin woke Mordred up. Mordred blinked owlishly and pushed himself up. He stared up at Merlin, his face hard and closed. Mordred felt the anger bubble up again when he realised that Merlin didn’t trust him, that he had lied. But then Merlin smiled and sat next to him.
“Glad you’re awake.”
“I’m sorry. Are you ok? Is Arthur? Does he…”
“I told him you came over for extra magic tutoring. You used your magic to fight the man off and saved us. Arthur would never trust you if he knew you had hurt me, but now he thinks you’re a hero and you have your second chance.”
“Thank you.” Merlin nodded his acceptance of the apology and reached out his hand.
“This time will be different, Mordred. No matter what happened last time around, now work together, deal?” Mordred nodded, relieved to have been accepted, and clasped Merlin’s outstretched hand. A truce for whatever it was that Mordred remembered had happened between them and a promise that he would be in their lives for many years to come.
Merlin was not sure that he could trust Mordred yet, but Arthur did and that mattered. Merlin was always concerned about Arthur’s blind faith in the people that he trusted, always wary that someone might take advantage of it. So he would remain suspicious enough for the both of them until Mordred finally proved himself one way or another. For some reason, the situation felt oddly familiar. On all sides.