teachfic | The Halls of Camelot: Magical Mystique

The Halls of Camelot: Magical Mystique

Arthur Pendragon sighed as he entered the darkened flat. It was mid-November in London, and the sun shone for so short of a time each day that sometimes – like today – he never even saw it. It had been dark when he’d dragged his partner, Merlin Emrys, out of bed and into the shower this morning and here it was dark before one of them was even home.

It fit his mood perfectly.

Frowning, Arthur tossed his jacket on the sofa as he felt for his phone in his pocket, but there was no message. He’d sent Merlin a text before leaving the private facility, Camelot Hospital, where both he and Merlin practiced. ‘Gotta get out of here. Leaving you the car. Taking the tube. XXXOOO. A’ He’d hoped for a reply, but knew that Merlin might be too busy with one of his young patients to text him back.

With Merlin still in training, Arthur had picked up extra shifts or worked on special projects so that their hours matched as closely as possible. He liked going to bed with Merlin – be it late at night or in the middle of the day – and getting up with him when it was time to face the world again. Besides, if he wasn’t there to get Merlin moving, the man would never manage to be anywhere on time. Merlin kept love and laughter in Arthur’s life; Arthur kept organisation and direction in Merlin’s. They just fit.

Moving to the decanter of Scotch on the sideboard, Arthur wished fervently that his partner could be here with him, but it wasn’t possible. Merlin was in the last year of his clinical practice to become a paediatrician and was still putting in long hours. They’d met during the younger man’s first year in his Foundation’s program at Camelot, where Arthur was finishing his training to become a surgeon. Merlin had found Arthur boorish and a prat, and his father, the infamous Uther Pendragon, intimidating and annoying. He’d told them both so in precise, clipped words before assuring them that he was far smarter than either of them. Uther had been impressed, and Arthur had fallen in love. What had followed was the development of a strong friendship that had evolved into something deeper and more lasting even as it touched everyone around them.

Arthur sighed again and looked down at his hands – the highly trained and skilled hands of a surgeon. His father had been a gifted doctor in his younger years. Now a medical administrator and well-known fundraiser, he had wanted Arthur to join him as a researcher with his foundation, but Arthur had other ideas. He wanted to help people directly.

Some days, he considered that Uther had been right. At least researchers did not have to watch people die senselessly the way he’d had to watch today. The case had been a young mother with a congenital heart defect. The cardiac specialist had asked Arthur to consult on the surgery because of the extensive scar tissue from previous procedures. Fearing bleeding and other complications, Arthur had suggested less-invasive forms of treatment that would not fix the problem, but would have given the woman time with her young family.

The chief surgeon – Geoffrey Monmouth – had overruled him, and the woman had bled to death during the procedure. Standing with Geoffrey and the woman’s family – parents, husband, and siblings – he’d flashed back on his own childhood and the death of his mother Ygraine when he was just a boy. Still, that wasn’t what upset him. Monmouth did, as he’d told his father many times. The older surgeon placed making a name for himself in medical journals with risky procedures above the quality of life of his patients, and it disgusted Arthur.

Worse, Arthur knew Uther agreed with him, but was reluctant to take any action that people would see as favouritism towards his son, despite the fact that his position and generous allocation of funds meant that Uther ruled Camelot Hospital with an iron fist.

Shaking his head at the futility of the situation and dreading another argument with his father over Monmouth, Arthur slumped on the sofa with his drink in his hands. His heart leapt a bit when his phone buzzed, but he frowned when he saw the number. “Not now, Morgana,” he groaned as he leant back on the pillows of the couch and hugged one to him. It smelt like Merlin, and he allowed himself a small smile.

“Are you okay?” his half-sister demanded in her normal, strident tone. She was a woman used to getting what she wanted. She’d worked at Uther’s side at his foundation for years. Now that he was gradually turning over duties to her, she was proving more adept at wooing both donors and professionals than he had ever been. He knew Uther and Morgana had thrown themselves into raising money to find new treatments for illnesses like the ones that had killed Ygraine because it helped them feel useful, but Arthur was more of the hands on type.

“Why would you ... oh, never mind,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Gaius or Gwen?” he demanded, wondering if it was his father’s oldest friend – now Merlin’s mentor –or his old friend from Uni – now a nurse at the hospital – who had ratted him out.

“Gwen,” Morgana admitted impatiently. “She told me what happened. She decided that the case reminded you of Mother, and I couldn’t argue with her.” Morgana had only been a baby – six months old – when her widowed mother met Uther Pendragon. Ygraine had married him within the year, and Arthur had been born less than ten months later. With barely two years between them, they’d grown up as close as two siblings could be, especially after Ygraine became ill with cancer and succumbed to the disease when Arthur was ten and Morgana was twelve.

Uther had legally adopted Morgana before Arthur’s birth, so there had been no question she would stay with him, though Ygraine’s sister Morgause had tried to gain custody. The protracted battle had only made the siblings closer. Since their childhood, people around them had known that if you took on Arthur Pendragon, then you took on Morgan Le Fay and vice versa.

They’d even fallen in love with best friends, as unlikely as that seemed. During their childhood, their little family of three had felt terribly small. Now, it had expanded to include Merlin and his mother Hunith, Gaius, Merlin’s lifelong friend and Morgana’s partner Will, Gwen and her partner Lancelot, and even Arthur and Morgana’s cousins and their Aunt Morgause. Merlin had brought them all together; family was family in the younger man’s eyes and nothing was more important.

Morgana was still nattering at him. “You should have called me,” she concluded impatiently.

“Yeah, well I’m not exactly proud of myself,” Arthur admitted, sounding fully irritated. “I can’t go running off whenever a case goes bad. If I do, what good am I going to be ...” his voice trailed off as he heard a key in the lock. “I have to go,” he told Morgana. “Merlin just came in. He’s very early. Let me sort if he’s been sacked.” Cancelling the call to silence his sister’s sputtering, Arthur cocked an eyebrow at his partner. “So, have you?” he asked smoothly as he drank in the sight of the younger man. Merlin always managed to look both capable and endearingly innocent at the same time. “Gotten the sack, I mean,” Arthur amended. “Or are you just playing hooky because you’re shagging the boss’ son?”

“Nice,” Merlin drawled, tossing his bag on to a nearby chair then slumping down on the sofa next to Arthur. With a grace that belied his gangly appearance, he pulled Arthur in for a kiss then tugged him down until his head was resting in Merlin’s lap. As he threaded his long, slender fingers through Arthur’s thick, blond hair, he asked gently, “Why didn’t you come and find me?”

“It’s not what you think,” Arthur replied, feeling some of the tension leaving his body as Merlin comforted him. “Yes, I thought about Mother, but I see cases all the time that are similar. I can’t let them get to me. You know that.”

“Of course I do,” Merlin replied emphatically, not stilling the motion of his hand. “Gwen and Gaius seem to think differently. They saw you; I didn’t. You were obviously troubled enough for Gwen to call Morgana – since I assume that’s how she knew since you’d sooner walk nude through Hyde Park than actually phone someone for support – and for Gaius to speak with your father. I don’t think Uther was fooled for a moment, but he was concerned enough to send me home.”

“Father sent you?” Arthur said, looking rather incredulous. There was a time – not so long ago – that Uther would have either ignored his only son’s distress or told him to grow a set before he had him completely neutered. That was before Merlin had come into their lives and turned them inside out and upside down.

Merlin looked like he was trying not to roll his eyes. “Yes. Did you really think I was playing hooky?” At Arthur’s shrug, he just sighed. “Out with it, prat. What’s got you so twisted up? The others may think it’s losing a patient, but we both know you save more than you don’t. You’re not arrogant about it, but you know your own skill. It wasn’t anything you did or didn’t do – and you’re not going to brood over it.”

Arthur went completely still, clenching and unclenching his hands in front of him. “No, it wasn’t anything I did,” he spat. “It was Monmouth, again! Surgery was never going to save her, but it did kill her. We couldn’t have made her well, but we could have given her months or maybe years with her family. I know how precious that is. Monmouth didn’t see her; he saw another paper or case study. He shouldn’t be allowed near patients!” Arthur concluded in a rush, his voice never growing any louder but becoming increasingly angrier. “I’ve said as much to Father, but he won’t listen. He never ...”

“Oh, do stop,” Merlin replied, placing a hand palm down on Arthur’s chest to calm him. “Perhaps five years ago, Uther would not have listened, but he does now and you well know it. Don’t punish him for the sins of his past. He was worried about you today, and I think if you will take the time to talk to him rationally about Monmouth, he’ll listen. He might not make the decision you think he should, but he will listen. There is a difference between listening and agreeing, you know.”

Arthur wanted to sit up and argue, but Merlin was holding him firmly in place – grounding him as he always did. Arthur studied his partner carefully. “Did Father discuss this with you?” he asked carefully.

“Of course not,” Merlin sighed, shaking his head. “Uther Pendragon would no more discuss personnel matters with a junior doctor than you would discuss a patient with Morgana. It makes no difference that I’m his son’s partner. It wouldn’t be professional. You are another matter. You are a surgeon bringing up a professional concern about a colleague. Uther will respect that, as he respects you.”

Arthur wanted to debate the point, but he knew Merlin was right. This wasn’t about a father and a son with all their assorted history. It was about two professionals – and what was right for the people who trusted them. Finally, Arthur looked up at Merlin balefully. “Are we going to sit here all night or can I move?” he asked. “I’m starving. Chinese or curry? It’s my turn to call.”

“Oh, curry, I suppose,” Merlin sighed. Shoving Arthur theatrically off his lap, he stood and stretched, his jumper riding up to bare his pale, trim stomach. “I am dying for a hot bubble bath, a five course meal, and champagne,” he mused dramatically. “But alas, I will have to make do with a quick shower and takeaway, since this place lacks a proper tub and you can’t cook at all. Why do you not support me in the style to which I wish to become accustomed?” he demanded with a pout.

“Go shower and stop acting like a poof,” Arthur teased with a dismissive gesture. “It’s very unattractive.”

“Yet you love me,” the younger man preened in an exaggerated falsetto as he skipped down the hallway.

Shaking his head as Merlin sauntered outrageously towards the bathroom; Arthur went to move his partner’s bag to the table in the entryway before calling for takeaway. As he shifted the ratty messenger bag, a piece of paper drifted to the floor. Bending to pick it up, he frowned when he recognized his father’s distinctive writing. For a physician, Uther had always had fine penmanship.

Merlin,

I’ve arranged with Gaius for you to have the remainder of the day off. Arthur’s had a rather trying time of it and I doubt he shall call Morgana or myself to discuss it. I think your presence is needed at home.

Do tell my stubborn son that I share his concerns about Monmouth and we will consult about it at length. His contract is up for renewal – perhaps it is time a younger, more compassionate hand takes over the surgical department. I believe I know just such a physician.

I expect you and Arthur for tea on Sunday. Morgana and Will have declined due to a prior commitment, but the others shall be here.

Uther

Arthur felt his chest tighten a bit as he smiled. There was a time that Uther would not have considered his feelings or concerns, let alone acknowledge them or ask someone to look out for him. Merlin – his magical, wondrous Merlin – had changed all that, and Arthur wasn’t even sure how he’d managed it. It was part of his mystique.

Moving to locate the takeaway menus, Arthur felt his lips curl up in a smile. He was sure they had a couple of bottles of champagne left from New Year’s Eve. He’d be making one of Merlin’s wishes come true tonight. The other’s he would just have to work on more diligently.

FIN

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