Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Over the next week, Arthur spent some time researching the crystals that were taken from both Jody and Mordred. He found references to such crystals in the writings of several Neopagan religious groups, like the Druids. Those who followed such naturalistic religions believed, as Alvarr did, the crystals were a conduit for magic.

Arthur drove to the police station earlier than usual on Monday morning because he was anxious to talk to Merlin, and he hoped his partner, who seemed to spend almost every waking hour at the office, would already be there. Arthur had visited several shops in London on Saturday that sold materials related to witchcraft and sorcery. He examined their wares and spoke to the employees. In one shop, The Phoenix Nest, Arthur met the owner and spent almost a full hour asking questions and listening as the older gentleman talked about how magic was diminishing, but individuals with a certain propensity could still harness the magic of the earth. Arthur found the people in these shops were more likely to talk openly with him if he hid his scepticism and simply went along with the hocus-pocus nonsense.

Arthur grimaced at books promising “ancient and secret knowledge of magic.” He was convinced the producers and sellers of these books and trinkets were simply taking advantage of people’s desire for mystery and a connection with something larger than themselves. The owner of The Phoenix Nest spouted a great deal of impressive-sounding magical history, and he certainly made it sound appealing to use his wares to connect with the great tradition of the Old Religion. But he also looked at Arthur with a half-raised eyebrow and spoke with a somewhat amused tone, as if he knew there was no way Arthur would believe his stories and they were merely sharing a joke as they roamed the shop discussing aging spells and ways to defeat cursed creatures.

Arthur hoped Merlin would agree with him. While the shops he visited might seem harmless, the actions of Jody, Cerdan and Alvarr proved those taken in by this Old Religion nonsense could be dangerous. As Arthur walked briskly into the station entrance, his phone buzzed with a text. It was from his boss, DCS Bayard.

I need to see you in my office as soon as you arrive.

Arthur slowed his pace and furrowed his brow. What did Bayard want? Was he still upset about Merlin scaring a few of the Lewis’s neighbours as he investigated Mordred’s disappearance?

As requested when he accepted this new partnership, Arthur sent weekly reports to DCS Bayard noting his and Merlin’s progress on various cases. They had a good success rate of solving cases, and, because Arthur usually did most of the paperwork, the case notes stuck solely to verifiable fact. However, if Bayard had discovered Merlin believed actual magic was involved in these cases, Arthur wasn’t certain their successful arrests would be enough to keep Merlin on the force.

Climbing the stairs to the superintendent’s office, Arthur decided he would cover for Merlin as best he could. It’s not like he was dangerous or wasting the department’s money. He solved cases and helped people, even if his methods were at times mysterious, and his ideas were a bit out there.

As soon as Arthur reached the top of the stairs and turned toward Bayard’s office, he froze. His father was standing in the doorway of the office talking to DCS Bayard. Arthur couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could not imagine what would bring his father, a prominent local businessman, to the office of the Detective Chief Superintendent of the Camelot CID.

Uther shook Bayard’s hand and then turned to leave. As soon as he spotted Arthur, standing frozen at the end of the hall, his face shifted into the expression Arthur recognized as his mask of reluctant civility. He gave a curt nod.

“Son.”

“Father? What are you doing here?” Arthur tried to remember the last time he had spoken with his father. It had been at least two weeks.

Uther paused for a moment before answering. “Problem at one of our warehouses. Some missing inventory.”

Pendragon Enterprises was such a vast corporation Arthur didn’t think his father, the CEO, kept up with details as trivial as a few items missing from a warehouse, and he certainly wouldn’t be the one reporting such a thing to the police.

“Okay,” Arthur said, hesitantly, “But why would you come to the DCS? Robberies are usually handled downstairs.”

Now Uther looked at his watch, clearly annoyed at having to explain himself to his son. “I suspect this is more than your garden variety robbery. The warehouse foreman recently purchased a brand new car and has inexplicably asked for time off. Also, if you recall, I have known Martin Bayard for many years. I wanted to ensure this matter was handled quickly.”

Arthur nodded vaguely as his father continued down the hall toward the stairs without as much as a goodbye to his son. He did not recall his father knowing his boss, although, when he was young, so many people passed through their house for dinner parties and meetings in his father’s private study, Arthur did not even pay attention to them, much less remember names and faces. He did think it odd Bayard hadn’t mentioned his connection with Uther Pendragon to Arthur.

DCS Bayard had returned to his inner office, so he probably hadn’t noticed Arthur approaching and didn’t know he had run into his father. Bayard’s assistant was not yet at his desk, so Arthur knocked on the door jamb.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

“DI Pendragon! I didn’t realize…” He trailed off, looking toward the hallway, probably wondering whether Arthur had seen his father exiting this office. “You’re in early.”

“Yes, I wanted to go over some research with Mer— DI Emrys.” Arthur didn’t necessarily want Bayard to know how close he and Merlin were becoming, so he changed the focus quickly. “I didn’t know you and my father knew one another. I ran into him in the hall just now.”

“Yes, well. There aren’t many in town who haven’t crossed paths at some point with Uther Pendragon, are there?” Bayard shifted some papers on his desk and seemed to be deliberately avoiding meeting Arthur’s eyes. “Have a seat. I wanted to discuss your partner’s breach of protocol on this child kidnapping case.”

Arthur bristled, knowing that from an outside perspective, Merlin’s behaviour on the Mordred Lewis case might seem erratic, but because Arthur now knew about the previous child kidnapping case Merlin had worked and the tragic result of that case, he understood Merlin’s fierce dedication to finding Mordred as quickly as possible.

“Merlin did what needed to be done to find the child. He did not break any laws, and none of his actions will endanger a guilty verdict in court. He followed leads, worked night and day and ultimately brought the child home safely.”

With an all too knowing scowl, Bayard ordered Arthur to turn in a complete report by the end of the day. “And don’t leave out any details in an attempt to protect that partner of yours.”

Still reeling slightly from his encounter with his father, Arthur descended the stairs to his basement office. As expected, Merlin was already there, standing at the work table, sifting through a stack of photographs. Arthur didn’t even get a chance to mention his exploration of the magic shops of London, though, because as soon as Merlin saw him, he started chattering at full speed.

“There you are! The griffin is missing from Town Hall! There’s a blip in the footage from the security camera and nothing from the exterior CCTVs. I borrowed this collection of photos from the Historical Society. It’s been there since 1872, and this morning, it went missing!”

“Whoa… slow down, Merlin.” Arthur set his laptop on Merlin’s desk and shrugged off his jacket. “What’s missing, now?”

“The statue of a griffin that has sat guarding the entrance to the Town Hall for almost 150 years!” Merlin’s eyes shone, a little too excited about an historic statue being stolen from a government building.

“As I recall, that statue was pretty huge.” Arthur moved closer to the work table, so he could look at the photographs Merlin had borrowed. “It must have required special equipment to move it. Are there any doors at Town Hall large enough to drive a truck or a forklift into?”

Arthur was trying to remember the layout of the Town Hall. The city council still met in a chamber along the west side, but the building was primarily rented out for weddings and other functions. The main entrance was accessible only by climbing a set of steps, but perhaps there was a larger service entrance round the back. The photos of the statue showed the bronze griffin perched grandly atop a large, rectangular plinth. The statue itself could probably be removed from the plinth, but it stood nearly two metres tall with wings that would make moving the statue awkward at best.

“May I see the security footage?” Arthur turned to ask Merlin.

“Of course.” Merlin led the way to his computer, where several open windows showed frozen images of footage from security cameras both inside the Town Hall entryway and outside.

As they scanned through the footage from the indoor camera, Arthur noticed the blip Merlin had mentioned. However, according to the timestamp, less than five minutes were missing, starting at 2:38 in the morning. Five minutes certainly didn’t seem like enough time to move a statue so large. The footage from the outdoor camera near the entrance went blank at exactly 2:38.

“Are there any CCTVs we might be able to access that show any of the exits from the building?” Arthur wondered.

“We can ask around at nearby businesses when we get over there.” Merlin snatched up his tablet and his jacket and bounded toward the door. “Let’s go!”

Arthur had to laugh at his partner’s enthusiasm. Merlin’s bouncy excitement today stood in stark contrast to the sober, contemplative detective Arthur had seen during their investigation of the kidnapping. And Arthur found he was altogether too pleased to see Merlin’s smile again, and he couldn’t help hoping to see more of it.

*****

As they walked the few blocks to the Town Hall, Arthur told Merlin about his trip to London that weekend, describing in detail some of the objects he had seen and conversations he had in the shops. Merlin listened carefully, but Arthur noticed his eyes glittering as he nodded along with everything Arthur said.

Finally he had to ask, “What are you smirking about?”

“The older man you talked to about the Old Religion? Was that in The Phoenix Nest?”

“Yes...” Arthur frowned at Merlin, wondering how he knew.

“That was Gaius.” Merlin chuckled inexplicably. “He’s an old family friend.”

Mouth dropping open in confusion, Arthur stared at his partner. “Wait. So you’ve been to that shop before?”

With a raised eyebrow that could almost rival that of his friend Gaius, Merlin explained, “I’ve been to all those shops, Arthur. I actually worked at The Phoenix Nest all through uni.”

“You did not!”

Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. Sure, Merlin believed his father had been abducted by magic, because of something strange he had witnessed as a child, but those shops, with their herbs and crystals and talismans… Surely the incredibly clever detective Arthur had come to respect was not fooled into believing these items held any sort of power at all!

“I did,” Merlin responded in a matter of fact way, and he watched Arthur’s face expectantly as they continued to walk.

“But none of that stuff is real.” Arthur insisted. “You do know that, right?”

For some reason, it bothered Arthur that Merlin might buy into the type of witchcraft pushed by these shops. Surely he could see the shopkeepers were only out to make money, even if that meant taking advantage of people who were searching for meaning in their lives.

“What makes you say it’s not real, Arthur?” Merlin stopped walking, reaching out to stop Arthur as well. “After everything you’ve seen since we started working together, how can you be so completely dismissive?”

Arthur hadn’t meant to hurt his friend, so he opened his mouth to apologize, but Merlin wasn’t finished.

“Look, I know that, as a scientist, you are used to looking for hard and fast proof. A new drug cannot go on the market without multiple trials. A new medical practice cannot be adopted without years of study and testing.” Merlin smiled, reassuringly. “All I’m asking is that you keep an open mind. Don’t dismiss the deeply held beliefs of others simply because you haven’t seen evidence to verify those beliefs.”

With an infuriatingly knowing smile, Merlin turned away and continued walking toward Town Hall, but Arthur stood still for another few seconds. Could he have an open mind about witchcraft and sorcery? Could he ever believe people existed who could perform spells that defied everything he knew about science and the way the world worked? If anyone else asked him, he would deny it outright. But there was something about Merlin’s open, raw faith in magic that made him want to try.

He jogged a few steps to catch up with Merlin and bumped into him with his shoulder. He gave his partner a smile and a sharp nod, as a way of acknowledging that he had heard Merlin’s words and would take them to heart. They were starting up the steps leading to the entrance to Town Hall when Merlin’s mobile rang.

“This is Emrys.” Merlin held up a finger, asking Arthur to wait a moment. “What!? Where?”

Merlin’s tone was so alarmed that Arthur couldn’t help raising his eyebrows in question, but Merlin was listening too intently to respond.

“What did he actually see?” Merlin asked and was quiet for a few moments, listening to the response. “Okay. Text me the address. We’ll be right… What? All right, fine. We’re at Town Hall. Just pick us up here.”

As soon as Merlin hung up, Arthur jumped all over him. “What was that all about? We were going to investigate the missing statue.”

“We may not need to. That was Gwaine. They got a call from a local farmer who witnessed two men he didn’t recognize unloading a large item covered with a cloth and hiding it in his neighbour’s barn.”

“Why would he call the police about that?”

Merlin raised his eyebrows with a grin. “Because twenty minutes later, his own barn was completely demolished.”

“Okay.” Arthur didn’t understand why Merlin was so excited about this. “But how is that our concern?”

Now Merlin leaned forward, lowering his voice dramatically. “Because as the strangers were wheeling the object toward the barn, the cloth slipped, and the farmer saw bronze wings.”

“The statue!” Now Arthur understood why Gwaine had phoned Merlin, but he still didn’t know why his partner’s eyes were dancing with barely contained glee. “So… the men who stole it saw the farmer notice them, and they destroyed his barn as a warning to keep silent?”

Merlin shook his head, still grinning widely. “The men didn’t destroy the barn.”

“Then who did?” Arthur was getting frustrated.

Merlin leaned all the way in, until his face was mere inches from Arthur’s, and he whispered, “The griffin.”

Arthur pulled back, eyeing his partner with disbelief. Surely Merlin wasn’t suggesting a statue came to life and attacked a barn. But Merlin simply waggled his eyebrows in response.

“They’re here!” he announced as he started bounding down the steps toward two patrol cars pulling up in front of Town Hall.

Merlin climbed into the car Gwaine was driving and shouted to Arthur, “You ride with Lancelot! See you there!”

More frustrated than ever, Arthur reluctantly got into the other car. He would have preferred if he and Merlin could ride together, so Merlin could explain where on earth he got his theory that magic could actually animate a massive bronze statue, and if it was somehow absurdly true, how he planned to stop the thing. But he was stuck with Lancelot who seemed to be even more in the dark than he was. And Merlin was up there in another car, chattering excitedly to Gwaine about this magical statue.

To distract himself from the fact that Gwaine was, at this moment, enjoying all of Merlin’s dazzling smiles, Arthur decided to research griffins on his mobile. The griffin was a mythological creature with the body of a lion and the head and wings of an eagle. Griffons symbolized strength and leadership, which was probably why the statue was selected to stand outside the chambers of Town Hall. Arthur was starting to read about the griffin’s portrayal in literature when Lancelot cleared his throat.

“So it seems like things are working out with you and Merlin.” He smiled. “I mean, you seem to enjoy the work, and the two of you work well together.”

Arthur switched off his mobile and turned slightly in his seat toward Lancelot. “Yeah, I guess we do. And it is interesting work, even if some of the cases seem a bit off the wall.”

“Like this one?” Lancelot laughed, and Arthur joined him.

“Yeah, I’d say this one qualifies.”

Lancelot looked over at Arthur, narrowing his eyes. “Does he actually believe a statue magically came to life and is running wild across the farmland?”

Hearing it out loud, it sounded completely ludicrous. Nevertheless, Arthur still felt he owed it to his partner to keep an open mind. So he nodded his affirmation.

“And he’s not high?”

Arthur laughed out loud. “No, mate. He’s just a bit … different.”

Lancelot raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything else. Perhaps he suspected Arthur was developing feelings for his partner. Arthur had noticed in the past that Lancelot seemed to be surprisingly perceptive about that sort of thing. After all, he had known Arthur was going to break up with Gwen before Arthur had mentioned it to anyone.

Arthur had time to read a bit more about the legends involving griffins, but as they neared the farmhouse, Lancelot spoke up.

“Arthur, look.”

When he looked up, he saw an old stone wall beside the road with large sections of the stones knocked down and scattered around. Beyond the wall, a house stood with a gaping hole in one side. The walls and part of the roof were demolished, as if the house had been hit with a wrecking ball. Lancelot slowed the car down, and they could see a barn beyond the house whose door had been ripped from its hinges. Farther down the road, they noticed a stretch of trees with all the upper branches snapped and dangling loose.

Exchanging a look of horror, Lancelot and Arthur followed the trail of destruction to another farmhouse where Gwaine was pulling into the drive. As they got out of their vehicles, Arthur looked past the house to the barn, half of which had been demolished. Broken chunks of wood were strewn about the farm.

Gwaine, Lancelot and Arthur were standing in shock, looking around at all the devastation, but Merlin sprang into action. He pointed toward the barn and shouted, “Gwaine and Lancelot, take a look around and see if you can find any clues as to whether this was deliberate.

“Arthur, talk with the farmer and get all the details on what he saw. The destruction started back there.” He pointed toward the first house they had seen as they drove up. “It looks like the griffin is headed this direction, so I’m going to continue and see if I can find it.”

He immediately started jogging down the road, clearly trying to face whatever this was by himself, but Arthur would not allow that.

“Not alone, you won’t.” He shouted after his partner, annoyance clear in his voice. He turned back to Gwaine and Lancelot. “One of you talk to the farmer. I’m going with Merlin!”

He tore down the road, trying to catch Merlin before he got too far, and as soon as he caught up, he grabbed Merlin’s arm, whipping him around.

“Merlin, stop. Whatever this is, if it’s the griffin statue come to life, or if it’s some other type of animal that’s gotten loose, or even if it’s some crazy person with… I don’t know… A bulldozer or an excavator. How exactly do you plan to stop it? Whatever has caused all this…” He waved his arm back toward the destruction. “It’s huge. And it’s out of control.”

“Exactly!” Merlin shouted back, wrenching his arm from Arthur’s grip. “That’s why we have to stop it before it hurts someone!”

He started running again, and all Arthur could do was run with him. They passed more branches that had been torn from trees. Then they came to a field of wheat with a large swath of stalks trampled, looking for all the world as if a large animal had run through it. Arthur was genuinely frightened, but he followed his partner through the field, heart pounding.

And then suddenly, they burst out of the wheat field into a small clearing, and the griffin stood before them, neck bent as it used its powerful hooked beak to tear into the flesh of a fox it had captured. Arthur stopped dead and stared, hardly able to process what his eyes were seeing. Merlin was right. The statue he had seen so many times guarding the entrance of Town Hall was now a living, breathing creature.

“Arthur, look.” Merlin spoke in a hushed voice as he reached back and grabbed Arthur’s wrist. “Oh… he’s beautiful.”

Beautiful wasn’t quite the word Arthur would have used. Massive, as it was several metres from beak to tail, had an even wider wingspan, and the muscles in its hindquarters were rippling as it stepped around to get a better angle for ripping the flesh from the bones of its prey. Terrifying was another word he would use, as he gaped at both its claws and talons. Impossible, certainly. They were standing in the middle of English farmland looking at a creature that was half lion, half eagle. It looked like it had stepped right out of the pages of a storybook.

But then Merlin turned and smiled at him with tears streaming down his face, his eyes wide with awe and wonder, and Arthur looked again at the griffin, this time seeing it through the eyes of his friend. His friend who believed magic filled the earth and impossible events happened every day. And suddenly, the griffin was beautiful.

He stepped closer to Merlin and slid his hand into his, linking their fingers. He whispered to his friend, “He’s amazing.”

They stood in silence and watched the creature pick the fox’s bones dry. Unfortunately, as soon as it lost the distraction of its meal, the griffin turned toward them and, surprised by their presence, reared back in fright, clawing at the air and letting out a screech that sent a chill down Arthur’s spine.

Before Arthur had time to consider a course of action, the creature bent its head and started to charge right toward them. Arthur shoved Merlin out of the way just in time, but the griffin’s head ran right into his chest, and he was knocked to the ground. He spluttered to catch his breath and tried to bring his knees up to protect himself, but the creature was too fast. One sharp talon ripped across his belly, tearing into his flesh. He wasn’t sure if the screaming he heard was himself, the griffin or Merlin. All he could see was white as the pain seared through him. And then he blacked out.

*****

When he woke up, he was lying flat on his back in a bright room. He tried to move, and an involuntary groan escaped because he felt a sharp pain across his stomach.

“Arthur?”

That was Merlin’s voice. Arthur blinked and tried to lift his head but found even that hurt his throbbing stomach muscles. But then Merlin’s face appeared above him, and he felt a gentle touch on his arm.

“Don’t try to move, Arthur. You’re in hospital. You’ve had stitches all the way across your belly.” Arthur felt the hand on his arm moving in tender strokes.

“What happened?” Arthur tried to ask, but his voice sounded more like a croak.

Merlin turned away for a moment, and Arthur immediately felt the loss of his warm touch. He returned holding a plastic cup with a straw bent over the rim and held it close to Arthur’s mouth for him to take a sip. The cool water felt glorious sliding down his parched throat. After he had enough, he nodded slightly, and Merlin placed the cup on the bedside table and then, thankfully, returned his hand to Arthur’s arm.

“What do you remember?” Merlin asked. His voice was carefully casual, but his eyes gave away his desperation. They begged Arthur to remember something important that must have happened.

So Arthur strained to remember. “I went to London to some shops… When was that?”

“That was over the weekend, Arthur. Do you remember coming to work yesterday morning?”

Work. Arthur tried to picture going into the police station, and then he remembered something. “Yes! My father was there.”

Merlin’s forehead creased and his lips turned down. “Umm… I’m not sure about that.”

“He was. He was talking to Bayard.” Arthur remembered feeling unsettled by his father talking to his boss. “But I guess I came down to the office?”

Merlin chuckled. “Are you asking, or do you remember?”

Arthur focused again, not liking this fuzzy-headed feeling. “No, I remember now. The statue was missing from Town Hall. We went down there, but then Gwaine…”

He felt his eyes go wide as he remembered driving out to the farm and running after Merlin. “We were in a field, and we saw…”

In his mind, he had an image of a live griffin eating a fox, but his aching head felt so befuddled, he wasn’t certain whether it was real. But then Merlin leaned in, smiling. And Arthur saw his blue eyes shining with unshed tears, and then Arthur remembered Merlin crying with delight at the sight of the magical creature, and his heart seemed to swell within his chest.

“The griffin.” He laughed, which caused a sharp pain in his stomach, but he didn’t even care, because Merlin was laughing as well, tears spilling out and landing warm on Arthur’s neck.

“You do remember,” Merlin choked out, and his smile was so wide and so bright Arthur thought it might actually leap off his face and dance around.

“I can hardly believe it.” If Arthur hadn’t seen the griffin with his own eyes, he would never have believed it was real. All these months, Merlin had been nudging him toward the truth, and he had resisted, stubbornly insisting science held an explanation for everything. But now, he had seen proof; magic did exist in this world.

“You were right, Merlin. Magic is real.”

Merlin was still smiling, but now his tears were spilling freely, and his lower lip was trembling. Arthur realized how much it must mean to him to have Arthur finally believe, and he wished he could reach up and brush the tears from Merlin’s cheeks and press his thumb into that trembling lip. But the pain in his stomach wouldn’t let him raise his arm. Although that pain reminded him…

“It attacked me, didn’t it?” Arthur remembered being knocked down and feeling the griffin’s talon tearing into his stomach, but he didn’t remember anything after that. “What happened? How did you stop it?”

Merlin’s smile disappeared, and his face shuttered as he stood up straight, pulling away from Arthur.

“I… threw some wheat stalks at it to distract it, and then I ran, so it would follow me and leave you alone. I guess the magic that brought it to life was wearing off, because before long, it turned back into a statue.”

Arthur frowned. The griffin had powerful hindquarters and a long stride, not to mention wings. How could Merlin outrun the thing, even for a short distance? And then before it could attack again, the creature conveniently transformed? He narrowed his eyes at his friend, who was now picking carefully at a rough spot on the bed railing. Merlin was hiding something. Arthur was certain.

“I, uh… I used my shirt to help slow the bleeding while I rang for an ambulance.” Merlin chewed on his bottom lip. “There was so much blood, Arthur. I was afraid...”

Merlin swallowed hard and didn’t continue, although another tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. Arthur decided he would confront his friend another time for the truth about what happened in that field. For now, he tried his best to lift his hand to reach out. Fortunately, Merlin noticed his effort and slipped his own hand around Arthur’s, squeezing gently.

“I’m really glad you’re okay.”

Merlin reached with his other hand toward Arthur’s face but seemed to rethink this move and paused, hand hovering somewhere above Arthur’s chest briefly before retracting. More than anything at this moment, Arthur craved Merlin’s touch. The pain in his stomach and whatever drugs he had probably been given were making him groggy again. So all he could do was smile encouragement at Merlin, and he was certain his sleepiness and his growing feelings for this man were combining to make his face disgustingly maudlin, but he didn’t care. And then Merlin reached out again and touched his forehead, smoothing his hair back. And he let his hand trail down Arthur’s cheek, resting along his jaw. Arthur turned into his touch and let his eyes fall closed. As much as he wanted to savour this moment, he allowed the comfort of Merlin’s warm hands to lull him to sleep.

*****

After two days in hospital, Arthur was going stir-crazy. Fortunately, he was released to go home, but he still wasn’t cleared to return to work. He supposed there were people who enjoyed having a few days off work to lie around their flat, watching telly and relaxing. Arthur Pendragon was not one of those people.

“What are you working on?” Arthur texted his partner by 9:30 the morning after he had returned home. “Send me some paperwork or something. I’m going mad.”

Merlin responded quickly. “You’re volunteering to do paperwork? You must be mad.”

“Shut up and send me something to work on, idiot!”

“Having your guts ripped open makes you cranky. Do your injury report for Bayard. I tried to tell him the truth, but he didn’t believe me. Good luck writing a better explanation!”

Arthur groaned as he read Merlin’s last text. He had completely forgotten he still had to report on his injury. What would he tell Bayard? He didn’t blame his boss for not believing Merlin. If he hadn’t seen the griffin himself, he wouldn’t have believed him either, and Bayard didn’t trust Merlin like Arthur did. But Arthur needed a story that would explain both his injury and all the damage caused by the griffin.

It took a couple of hours, but Arthur finally came up with a report involving a wild boar and a farmer losing control of a tractor. He emailed the report to Bayard, copying Merlin in, so he could redo his own report to match Arthur’s account. After forcing himself to eat some soup, Arthur felt quite fatigued. He had been frustrated the doctor would not let him go to work, but it seemed he did need another day or two of rest. Resigning himself to life as an invalid, he turned on the telly and promptly fell asleep on the couch.

A loud knock on the door caused him to jerk awake. The room was dark, only moonlight gleaming through the windows, so he must have slept for hours. Groggily, he got to his feet and plodded to open the door.

“Oh no! Were you sleeping? I’m so sorry!” Merlin stood outside the door, holding a bag of takeaway. “I just got off work, and you said you were bored, so I thought I’d bring dinner and some files and things for you to help out with. But you need to rest, so I’ll just drop this and go.”

At that moment, to his horror, Arthur let out a huge yawn which made Merlin grimace in apology and reiterate that he would go and let Arthur get back to sleep.

“No, don’t be an idiot, Merlin.” Arthur reached out and grabbed his partner’s arm to pull him into the flat. “I’ve been sleeping all afternoon like I’m eighty years old or something.”

Merlin chuckled at that and closed the door behind him. “I brought pasta. I thought you probably needed something mild after having your insides spilled out onto a wheat field.”

Well, that was a lovely image. Arthur wrinkled his nose at Merlin, who grinned back at him, and Arthur found he didn’t much care what disgusting details Merlin might reveal about his injury if it meant he got to see that adorable smile that crinkled the corners of Merlin’s eyes.

Merlin insisted Arthur should rest in the living room while he dished up dinner for him, which was extremely frustrating, and Arthur was prepared to tell Merlin off for treating him like he was helpless. That is, until Merlin returned from the kitchen with two plates and sat on the couch beside Arthur without even asking.

As they ate, Merlin caught Arthur up on the follow-up work he had done on the missing statue case. The man who owned the farm where the statue was being hidden was a sorcerer, and he was part of an internet community of other sorcerers. He and two of his friends had found a spell for bringing statues to life, so they decided to bring to life a creature that did not actually exist in nature — the griffin.

“They didn’t need special equipment to remove the griffin from the Town Hall, because it walked out on its own,” Merlin explained, eyes sparkling playfully. “Apparently the creature was a bit dazed when they brought it to life the first time, so it was easier to control. They turned it back into a statue to transport it to the farm, but when they reanimated it, they lost control. The poor thing must have been so confused and frightened.”

Arthur had listened carefully as Merlin recounted the story, but hearing Merlin coo over the creature that had attacked him suddenly made him recognize the absurdity of this moment, and he started laughing.

Merlin looked at him, confused. “What’s so funny?”

“Come on, Merlin!” Arthur almost guffawed. “We’re adults. We’re police officers. Detectives, even! And you’re sitting here on my couch talking about sorcerers animating a statue of a creature who, before this, existed only in fiction.”

He threw his arms up in resignation. “And I believe every word! How is this my life?”

And there was that crinkly-eyed smile again. Damn, Arthur loved that smile. He watched Merlin’s eyes for a moment as his laughter faded, and Merlin returned his gaze, his own wide grin slowly shifting into something softer, more tender. Merlin’s glance flitted for a moment to Arthur’s lips, but then he pulled back and cleared his throat.

“You’ll get used to it, I guess.” His voice was low, and he smiled again, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes.

Arthur’s heart was fluttering, and he suddenly didn’t feel like eating anymore. Apparently Merlin felt the same because he leaned forward along with Arthur to set his plate on the coffee table. Merlin picked up the file folder he had brought and turned back toward Arthur.

“So, I’ve been keeping something from you.” His pursed his lips and avoided Arthur’s eyes, clearly thinking his confession would anger his partner.

Instead though, Arthur felt relieved. “I know.”

Merlin’s eyes flew to meet his, and he raised his eyebrows. “You know?”

“Well yeah. You don’t exactly have the best poker face, mate. I can tell you’ve been hiding something.” Arthur shrugged. “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“So you don’t know what…” Merlin waved a hand vaguely.

Shaking his head, Arthur chuckled. “I knew you were hiding something, not what you were hiding. I can read the emotions on your face, but I can’t read the thoughts in your mind, you Cabbage Head.”

He accentuated his last words with a playful rub of the top of Merlin’s head, causing his dark, curly hair to stand up in a way that made Merlin look like a fluffy puppy. Merlin’s lips curled into a crooked smile as he tried to smooth his hair back down, but he didn’t get all of it. Several tufts were still sticking out, and Arthur’s fingers itched to reach out and tuck them in. Or to reach out and ruffle those curls completely. Or to dig in with both hands and pull Merlin toward him so Arthur could devour those lips.

Arthur cleared his throat and looked quickly at the file on Merlin’s lap. “So, what were you going to tell me?”

Opening the file, Merlin pulled out several photographs. They showed buildings around town with graffiti spray-painted on them, as well as close-ups of the graffiti itself. Each one showed the same symbol, a triple spiral, followed by a number.

“Oh yeah…” Arthur realized he recognized the graffiti. “I’ve seen a few of these recently. I assumed they were the work of taggers. Is that a known gang sign?”

“It’s a triskel, which is an ancient Druidic symbol, although variations of this same symbol appear in the art of many religions and cultures around the world. I checked with Leon, and he didn’t know of any local gangs that use this sign, although he and the Gang Task Force have been keeping track of these tags as they appear. They painted over a couple of them, but the same symbol and number showed up in a new location the next day,” Merlin explained.

“Is there a pattern?” Arthur asked. He didn’t recognize what the numbers might represent. They didn’t look like addresses, as some were whole numbers and others decimals. Some were repeated in different locations, but Arthur saw three distinct numbers.

“No pattern that I’ve found, although…”

Merlin’s voice trailed off, so Arthur looked up at his partner again. Merlin was chewing on his bottom lip, as he tended to do when he wanted to say something but wasn’t certain how well it would be received.

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur tried to coax the information from him.

“I don’t think they’re gang tags. I think they’re clues.” Merlin’s mouth opened and closed, and he swallowed hard. When he spoke again, his voice was small but somehow optimistic. “And I think they have something to do with my father.”

Arthur’s heart sank as he looked at Merlin’s face, so full of hope. He had never known his own mother; she died giving birth to him. And Arthur would give anything to see her even once. So he understood Merlin’s deep desire to find his father, who had been ripped away from him when he was a child. But to believe these tags would lead him to his father? Arthur felt like Merlin was grasping at straws.

“Merlin.” Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s arm. “I’m not sure...”

But Merlin interrupted. “I know how that sounds, but Arthur, I was shown a sort of vision. I saw a man spray painting one of these symbols on a building, and then I saw my father. He was hugging my mum, and they were crying. I think he’s alive. And I think these clues can lead me to him.”

Merlin actually had tears in his eyes as he spoke, and Arthur hated to crush his hopes, but he felt like he had to be a voice of reason.

“Well, it’s understandable you would dream about your father and even for these numbers you’ve been seeing to show up in the dream. But that doesn’t mean…”

“It wasn’t a dream.” Merlin shook his head and then turned on the couch to face Arthur fully, looking into his eyes with a hesitant smile. “I told you I’ve been keeping something from you?”

“Um, yes?” Arthur was confused. He thought Merlin’s secret was that he believed the graffiti around town would lead him to his father.

Merlin took a shaky breath, cupped his hands in front of him and whispered, “Gewyrc an lif.”

He opened his hands, and Arthur gasped as a bright blue butterfly flew out and fluttered between them. Merlin held up one finger, and the butterfly landed on his fingertip, opening and closing its wings as Arthur stared, transfixed. He felt like he could hardly breathe. After a few seconds, he tore his eyes from the creature on Merlin’s fingertip to look at Merlin’s face, and then he stopped breathing altogether. Merlin’s eyes focused on the butterfly and glowed impossibly gold for a moment. Arthur’s heart was pounding, but Merlin gently reached for his hand and placed the butterfly on Arthur’s palm. When he looked down, the insect, which had been flying and moving its wings moments ago was now a mere decoration made of delicate silk, held together with fine wires.

Arthur touched the butterfly carefully, not quite ready to believe what he had seen. He glanced up, and Merlin was watching him expectantly.

“You…” was the only word Arthur could manage.

With a tiny hint of a smile, Merlin nodded. “I’m a sorcerer.”

“A sorc… you… magic…” Arthur was unable to collect his whirling thoughts to form a proper sentence.

At this, Merlin laughed, but his smile quickly faded as he seemed unsure about Arthur’s shocked reaction. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, Arthur. I needed to know that I could trust you. And before the griffin, you didn’t even believe in magic. I didn’t know how you would react. If I tried to tell you, I thought you might think I was crazy. Or you were crazy. Or that I drugged you.”

“Merlin!” Arthur raised his voice slightly to stop Merlin’s nervous rambling.

He looked at his partner, then down at the butterfly in his palm and then back at Merlin’s frightened face. Arthur should feel frightened himself, he supposed. The person sitting before him had admitted to being an actual sorcerer. His eyes had glowed like fire. Arthur had the sudden realization that all the strange incidents from their investigations, which Arthur had attributed to mere coincidence — the power going out at Jody Beecham’s house, the murderous spider man being caught in his own web, the griffin returning to bronze in the middle of an attack — were not coincidence. They were magic. Apparently performed by Merlin.

Merlin remained silent, wringing his hands, chewing his lower lip and watching Arthur’s face, waiting for Arthur to speak again. Arthur stared back at him, his partner, his friend. The man Arthur was, despite his better judgement, completely falling for. A sorcerer.

Arthur should feel frightened. Merlin could probably throw him across the room with a flick of his wrist. He should feel angry. Merlin had lied all this time. He had hidden important evidence. Kept Arthur from the truth. But he had also saved Arthur’s life. And he had allowed Arthur time to gradually change his mind about the existence of magic. And tonight, Arthur thought as he gazed into those vivid blue eyes he loved so much, when Merlin finally trusted him with his secret, he chose to demonstrate his magic not with a grand display of flames or flying objects but by creating a lovely, delicate butterfly.

“Thank you.” Arthur smiled at Merlin. “For trusting me.”

Merlin nearly sobbed in relief, but he returned Arthur’s smile. “So you don’t think I’m a freak?”

Laughing, Arthur held out the butterfly still perched on his palm for emphasis. “You just pulled this out of thin air! Of course I think you’re a freak!”

He carefully set the silk butterfly between his and Merlin’s plates on the coffee table and then took both Merlin’s hands in his.

“You’re going to explain everything to me. You’re going to tell me when you started learning magic and how you learned and what all you can do.”

Merlin opened his mouth as if to begin explaining right away, but Arthur cut him off.

“But not tonight.” Arthur squeezed Merlin’s hands reassuringly. “I think I’ve had about all the shock and awe I can take for the moment. Remember that a few days ago, I nearly died, and I kind of have a feeling that you had a lot more to do with my not dying than you let on, so for tonight, let me put aside the revelation that my best friend is an actual, real life Harry Potter.”

Merlin snorted. “Please. Potter’s an amateur.”

And the combination of Merlin’s smirk and his dancing eyes nearly made Arthur lose all semblance of professionalism and jump his partner right then and there, but instead he turned his focus to the photographs they had been examining earlier.

“Let’s just be detectives for now. Maybe compare wand lengths with Dumbledore another time.”

Again, Merlin’s laughter made heat pool in Arthur’s belly, but he ignored it and spread the photos on the couch between them.

“There’s only these three distinct numbers that you’ve found?” Arthur stacked the photos of the same numbers from different locations. “551.44, 8243.6611 and 548.”

“Right. And the one I saw in the vision was 548.” Merlin pointed at one of the photos.

“Okay, how did you see this vision?” Arthur didn’t want to get into a lot of background explanation about Merlin’s magic tonight because his head was still spinning, but to decipher the clues, he did need a bit more information.

Merlin took a deep breath. “I used the Crystal of Neahtid.”

“Mordred’s crystal?”

Merlin nodded. “When we had it in evidence, I felt drawn to it, and the moment I touched it, I saw the visions. In the crystal.”

“Okay.” Arthur could tell he still had much to learn about magic, but for now, he wanted to focus on details he understood. “And you didn’t see anything else? Just the one spray-painted number and your parents hugging?”

When Merlin agreed, Arthur continued, “So if it was a magical vision meant to help you find your father, then who is leaving these clues? Did you recognize the man painting the clue in the vision?”

“No, I didn’t. But I do know my father had magic as well, and, for all I know, he was friends with other sorcerers.” Merlin shrugged. “I mean, he was friends with Gaius.”

Of course. Merlin’s old friend who ran the magic shop in London. Arthur pushed that information aside in the “to be examined later” category and focused again on the numbers in the photos. They weren’t addresses. They didn’t seem to represent money. He shifted the photos, putting them in numeric order. 548, 551.44, 8243.6611. Could the numbers be directing them to another source? Were they volume and issue numbers of a newspaper or magazine? Or… books!

“Oh!” Arthur separated the first two numbers. “These are in the range of the Dewey Decimal system. The five-hundreds are science… five-fifty is chemistry? Or geology?”

Merlin stared at him, mouth open in surprise. “How do you just know that off the top of your head?”

Arthur grimaced, because he knew what Merlin’s reaction would be when he explained. “My father had quite an extensive library in our house, and I spent a lot of time hiding out there when I was growing up.”

He was unsurprised to see Merlin’s mouth gape open even farther. “You grew up in a house with a library so huge it was organized with the Dewey Decimal system?”

When Arthur shrugged, Merlin reached over and swatted his shoulder repeatedly. “You stinking rich, spoiled brat! I had to walk all the way across town to the public library, because half the time, we didn’t even have a car that would run. And the town was so small, the library was pathetic. And you were sitting up there in a giant library, eating your caviar and calling the butler to prop up your feet!”

“What?” Arthur laughed. “It wasn’t like that! Father would have killed me if I brought food into the library. And, besides, George hated me. He wouldn’t even clean my room, much less prop up my feet.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and tossed his head back in mock annoyance at his made-up butler. Merlin scrunched up his face and shoved Arthur hard, so Arthur shoved him back. It was a bit harder than he meant to, though, because Merlin nearly toppled off the couch. Fortunately, Merlin didn’t seem to mind. He cackled with laughter and then launched himself at Arthur, causing him to fall back with Merlin sprawled on top of him. They giggled for a moment, but their punchy mood dissipated quickly as they both became aware of their sudden closeness. Merlin’s chest was pressed against Arthur’s with one of Arthur’s arms trapped between their stomachs and the other wrapped around Merlin’s back, keeping him from rolling to the floor. Arthur felt a slight discomfort from his arm mashing into his stitches, but he was too distracted by Merlin’s warmth against him to care. Merlin held himself up with one elbow against Arthur’s shoulder while the other arm flailed for purchase against the back of the couch.

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes, hovering mere inches above his own, and he was certain Merlin could feel his heart pounding against his chest. Merlin stared back for a moment, and then he moved his hand from the couch cushion to trace Arthur’s hairline, his fingertips leaving sparks in their wake along Arthur’s skin. Merlin’s eyes nearly closed as his focus slid down to Arthur’s lips, his eyelashes dark against his pale cheeks. And Merlin started to lean forward a bit, lips parting.

Almost involuntarily, Arthur breathed Merlin’s name, but he immediately regretted it because it seemed to break the moment, and Merlin quickly pushed away, sitting back up.

“Sorry,” he muttered as he hurriedly gathered the photographs they had crushed beneath them. He tossed them onto the coffee table and stood. “I’m sorry.”

“Merlin.” Arthur didn’t know what to say. Clearly Merlin was feeling some of the same emotions he was, and he wanted more than anything to stand up, grab Merlin’s shoulders and kiss him until they were both gasping for breath. But he also knew tonight had been emotional, and he didn’t want Merlin to make a decision in the heat of the moment that he would later regret. And frankly, Arthur wasn’t certain he was thinking all that clearly tonight, either, and while he was fairly sure he could fall completely in love with this man in a permanent sort of way, he also knew Merlin was the best friend he had ever had, and they worked so well together, and Arthur did not want to risk losing either his friend or his partner for a night of passion.

“I’ll leave these here for you. I’ve got more copies.”

Merlin walked quickly to open the door, so Arthur jumped up to stop him before he left. He reached for Merlin’s hand, linking their fingers and squeezing tight, hoping Merlin could tell that he didn’t blame him for getting caught up in the moment and that Arthur had been feeling the same intense connection.

“Thank you for sharing your magic with me. I’m supposed to rest another day, but please come round tomorrow night. I want to hear all about it. Everything.”

Arthur locked eyes with Merlin. He wanted Merlin to know what he was feeling. He wanted to tell him, “You are my friend, and I care about you. You are a brilliant detective, and I admire you. You are stunningly gorgeous, and I want to taste every inch of you. You are tender and caring, and I want to wake up beside you.”

But Arthur could no more say these words out loud than he could create a butterfly from thin air. So, terrified by everything he was feeling, he did his best to pour all his emotions into a single look. Swallowing hard, Merlin gave a jerky nod and looked down, brushing his fingertips across Arthur’s stomach. That slight touch filled Arthur with a warm promise of what might be, and he thought he saw a hint of a smile cross Merlin’s face as he turned to leave.

*****

After the revelations of the evening, Arthur expected a restless night, especially considering he slept most of the day, but he fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow, and he woke the next morning feeling strong and alert. He stayed home as ordered by his doctor, but happily, he felt able to work. He did his own research into the Druids and the groups who might use the triskel symbol.

He discovered the local druidic cults had experienced a surge in membership over the last few months. The increase in activity started around the time the symbols started appearing around town. That had to be significant.

Arthur was making notes of the dates various symbols appeared when his mobile rang. He couldn’t help smiling when he saw Merlin’s name.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Merlin’s tone was oddly upbeat.

“I feel great, actually.” Arthur pressed a hand to his belly. “My skin is almost healed, and I’m not even sore.”

He could hear the sly smile in Merlin’s voice. “Good! Your doctors must have done a great job stitching you up.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “Merlin? You did something, didn’t you?”

“I may have used a small healing spell on you before I left last night.”

Merlin didn’t sound at all repentant, which made Arthur laugh. “Well, why did you bother sending me to hospital at all, then?”

All lightness disappeared from Merlin’s voice when he answered. “My powers are limited, Arthur. I did what I could, but…” He trailed off, clearly hesitant to discuss how severe Arthur’s injuries must have been.

Arthur felt a surge of affection for his friend, but he tried to keep the tone light. “I was kidding, Merlin. Thank you for whatever you did. I may not understand all that hocus pocus,” he chuckled, “but I do appreciate it.”

Merlin cleared his throat, mumbled, “No problem,” and awkwardly changed the subject.

“So, I spoke to my mum this morning, and she mentioned that one of the clues I’ve been tracking showed up in Ealdor, painted on the side of a local monument. And the number on it was different than the others we’ve seen. It’s 51.3.”

Arthur sat up straight and reached for an index card to jot down the number Merlin mentioned. He added the new card to the top of the set he already had lined up on his coffee table, sorted in numerical order.

51.3

548

551.44

8243.6611

Sliding the card with the only whole number to the side, Arthur examined the remaining decimal numbers but still couldn’t find a pattern. He mused aloud to Merlin as he shifted the cards around.

“So I was mostly fishing for answers last night when I mentioned the Dewey Decimal System, but I looked it up, and now I’m wondering if I may have been onto something. The call number 548 is crystallography, and considering you saw that number in an actual crystal, that might mean something. Although it could be a coincidence. Call numbers only go through 999. And 551.44 would be caves, so I don’t know how that would be related.”

Merlin gasped and then nearly shouted, “The Crystal Cave!”

“What?” Arthur had never heard of the Crystal Cave.

“I thought it was a myth. Hang on. I’ve got a book around here somewhere.” Merlin sounded distracted, mumbling under his breath as he searched.

“Here it is. ‘Believed to be the origin of magic itself, the Crystal Cave was considered both sacred and treacherous by those who practiced the Old Religion.’ There’s a few mentions of it in the old texts but not even a hint of a location.” Merlin was mumbling to himself again. “Not like ancient texts could give coordinates, exactly, but it’s not even clear if it was an actual physical cave or…”

Merlin was still babbling about the ancient myths, but his mention of coordinates made Arthur freeze, staring at the index cards before him.

“Coordinates!” This time, Arthur was the one nearly shouting. “That’s the numbers, Merlin! They’re latitude and longitude. 51 North and 3 West—that’s not far from here!”

He tore two of the index cards in half at the decimal point and rearranged them, pairing the first halves together and the second halves together to make 51.8243 and 3.6611.

“Brilliant!” Merlin exclaimed when Arthur explained what he had done. “Look it up! Look it up!”

“I’m way ahead of you.” Arthur was already typing 51.8243° N 3.6611°W into Google.

When the result came up, Arthur’s heart nearly stopped.

“Merlin,” he whispered, “It’s a cave. A cave in Wales.”

“Cave of the Black Spring.” Merlin must have hit Google at the same time. “Arthur, do you think—?”

Arthur shook his head, suddenly feeling sceptical. “I don’t know, Merlin. We could be completely wrong. These clues could be a wild goose chase. They could be a student prank for all we know.”

“But they could be real.” Merlin’s voice trembled. “I have to go to that cave, Arthur. I have to find out.”

Arthur didn’t know what to do. He could tell Merlin was pinning all his hopes of finding out what happened to his father all those years ago on the work of vandals and on a vision that could have been merely a dream. Merlin would be crushed if his visit to the cave provided no answers. But Arthur also knew Merlin would not be satisfied until he at least tried.

“I’m going with you, Merlin,” Arthur insisted. “I don’t think Bayard would approve a trip to Wales on work time, but tomorrow is Saturday, and with the little trick you pulled last night, I should be well enough to travel.”

“But…”

Arthur could hear the impatience in Merlin’s voice. “Please, Merlin. Wait until tomorrow, and let me go with you. I’d like to be a part of this. Plus, an extra set of eyes and ears can only help.”

Merlin sighed. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Arthur could almost feel Merlin’s disappointment radiating through the phone, and he wished they were in the same room, so he could wrap his arms around Merlin to comfort him. Suddenly, the next morning seemed unbearably far away. “So, um, do you want to come round again tonight?” His heart fluttered in his throat. “I can cook something, and you can tell me more about your magic. Also, we could make plans for tomorrow.” He added the last bit so he wouldn’t sound so desperate.

Merlin didn’t speak for a moment, and then he sighed again. “I’ve a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so I’ll be at the office quite late. I’ll probably just skip dinner. Um, I should go, but I’ll text you later about tomorrow.”

Staring blankly at his phone after he hung up, Arthur couldn’t help feeling stung by Merlin’s rejection. He knew Merlin cared for him, and last night, their attraction had certainly seemed mutual, but now Merlin was definitely avoiding him. Possibly, Merlin preferred to keep their relationship professional, and if that were the case, Arthur would simply have to get over his desire for a closer connection with his partner.

But it was also possible Merlin was simply scared of taking the next step. And Arthur could understand that as well. Going from friends to more was definitely scary. The risk of losing the friendship was an ever-present concern. But Arthur smiled to himself as he thought about shared meals in front of the telly, long walks with tangled fingers and deep conversations, and wet kisses that led to hastily ripped off clothes. He was beginning to feel a relationship with Merlin would be worth the risk.

*****

On the drive to the cave the next morning, Merlin seemed anxious. He wasn’t particularly talkative, and when Arthur tried to ask him questions about his magic, he gave vague answers, seemingly trying to use the fewest words possible. Arthur was reminded of their first case when he had felt frustrated because Merlin refused to converse with him properly.

This time, however, he attributed Merlin’s uncooperative attitude to his apprehension about possibly finding out what happened to his father. Arthur stopped asking questions, allowing Merlin to deal with his nerves in his own way, and as he pulled the car into the lay-by near the cave entrance, Merlin turned to smile at Arthur with a grateful nod.

The cave was an extensive maze of tunnels and chambers, but Merlin and Arthur followed the directions Merlin had found on a caving website to the Crystal Pool Chamber, which seemed the most promising place to start their search for the elusive Crystal Cave of myth. As they climbed into the chamber, Arthur turned around so his head torch would shed light along each of the walls. A pool of water whose surface was completely still covered part of the floor of the chamber, and along the opposite wall, curtains of stalactites hung from the high, vaulted ceiling, some draping down to meet columns of stalagmites rising from the pool.

“Wow.” Arthur’s voice echoed through the chamber, so he lowered it to a whisper. “This is beautiful.”

He shone his head torch toward Merlin who had taken a few steps into the chamber and was standing at the edge of the crystal pool. Without turning to face Arthur, Merlin spoke in a hushed voice. “There’s something here. Arthur, I can feel it.”

He reached one hand back, stretching his fingers toward Arthur, so Arthur stepped forward and took his hand. Merlin pulled him close with a wistful smile. Arthur returned his smile and then looked around the chamber, noting a low tunnel to the left and a dark passage near the top of the right wall. When he looked back, Merlin’s eyes were closed. Arthur took the opportunity to stare at his profile. The contrasts of light and shadow falling across the sharp planes of Merlin’s face emphasised his pensive mood. Arthur’s eyes traced Merlin’s jawline, darkened by several days’ worth of scruff and lit on the curve of his lips, parted slightly as Merlin concentrated.

“Do you feel that?” Merlin’s eyes were still closed, but he lifted his chin toward the left side of the opposite wall.

Arthur shook his head. “I’m not sure what you mean, Merlin.”

“It’s like … it’s pulling me.” He raised the hand Arthur wasn’t holding to touch his chest. “Here.” He slowly drew his hand outward and then pointed it toward a spot low on the wall of the cavern.

He suddenly opened his eyes and turned to face Arthur. “I think whatever is on the other side of that wall wants me to find it.”

For once, Arthur did not even question Merlin. He didn’t understand the magic involved, but if Merlin felt something calling to him through solid rock, then they should investigate. They were detectives, after all.

“It looks like that tunnel might take us in that direction. Maybe it opens to another chamber.” Arthur leaned down, trying to shine his head torch into the opening of the tunnel. “It’s rather narrow. We’ll have to crawl single file.”

But Merlin pulled Arthur up, eyes twinkling as he shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

He released Arthur’s hand, stepped forward and raised his right hand. He murmured a few words Arthur did not understand, and a portion of the rock crumbled to dust, leaving an opening on the opposite wall of the Crystal Pool Chamber that was large enough for them to walk through.

“Well.” Arthur was impressed. “That certainly is handy.”

Merlin flashed a smile in his direction before motioning with his head for Arthur to follow him toward the doorway he had created with a wave of his hand. Their head torches shone into pitch darkness, and Arthur reached for Merlin’s arm to remind him to go slowly in case the footing wasn’t safe in the newly exposed chamber. But the moment Merlin stepped through the opening, the entire chamber lit up. Hundreds of luminous crystals filled the cavern with an eerie blueish-white light.

“Arthur.” Merlin breathed, reaching for his hand. “This is it. The Crystal Cave. We found it.”

Pulling Merlin close and wrapping an arm around his waist, Arthur chuckled. “You found it, Merlin. I’m just along for the ride.” He smiled to himself, remembering what Hunith had told him. As he surveyed the magical landscape before him, Arthur certainly felt like Merlin was taking him on an exhilarating ride through the clouds.

“No, I was getting nowhere with that graffiti. You’re the one who figured out what we were looking for and where we needed to go.” Merlin leaned into Arthur’s side. “I couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

A tingling warmth filled Arthur, and he felt a bit lightheaded. He closed his eyes and turned so his lips almost brushed Merlin’s ear. He murmured, “I guess we make a pretty good team.”

Arthur smiled as he felt Merlin shiver against him. He whispered Arthur’s name and started to turn his head, lips parting, when suddenly he tensed and drew in a sharp breath. He glared intensely into the bed of crystals before them.

“Merlin?” Arthur whispered, staring in the same direction, trying to see what had distracted Merlin. “What is it?”

Merlin edged away from Arthur, taking two hesitant steps forward. “I’m not sure. I thought I heard a voice… calling me.”

“Calling you?” Arthur peered between the crystals, looking for any movement. “Like by name?”

Merlin gave Arthur an uneasy glance. “It said Emrys.”

“From over there?” Arthur pointed in the direction Merlin kept eyeing dubiously. Feeling suddenly bold, Arthur clapped Merlin on the shoulder and moved toward the crystals. “Well, let’s go check it out.”

As they got close, the crystals flared brighter, seemingly in response to Merlin’s presence. Arthur’s resolve to investigate the voice must have spurred Merlin on, because his hesitancy was gone, and he was climbing deeper into the cave, scouring among the large rocks and crystals. Arthur searched as well, but he quickly noticed that, unless he stayed close to Merlin, he was plunged back into darkness, as the crystals lost their unearthly glow whenever Merlin turned his back to them.

“Here!” Merlin called. “I found something over here.”

Arthur clambered over the rocks until he reached the spot where Merlin was squatting behind a particularly thick cluster of crystals. On the ground before him was a rock unlike any others in the cave. It was smooth and white, about 15cm across its spherical bottom and narrowing to a rounded point on the top.

“I’m no geologist, but I don’t think that formed here in the cave.” Arthur put his hand on Merlin’s back, leaning forward for a closer look. “It looks more like a river rock. You know, all smoothed by the moving water?”

“It’s not a rock.” Merlin spoke with certainty as he reached out and lifted the mysterious object. “It’s an egg.”

Arthur scowled in confusion. “What, like a fossil?”

But Merlin just shook his head, an awed smile dawning on his face as he stared at the egg. He lifted sparkling eyes to Arthur, and his smile widened until his face shone with childlike excitement. “I think it’s a dragon egg.”

*****

On Monday morning, as Arthur descended to the basement, he sipped his coffee and reflected on how much his entire world had changed since the last time he had been to work. On that morning, he had entered the office fresh from a weekend of visiting magic shops in London, ready to inform his partner that the ridiculous notion of magic, while mostly harmless, did seem to be dangerous in those delusional enough to believe in its power.

This morning, he entered the office fresh from a weekend spent retrieving a dragon egg from a mythical cave and then researching dragons and discussing magic for hours with his partner, the sorcerer. And today, he would be returning to one of those magic shops but, this time, as a believer.

Rounding a corner, he found the office light already on. He was not surprised that Merlin was already here. He was anxious to learn as much as he could about the dragon egg they found, as he was still convinced the cave and the egg somehow related to his father. They planned to visit Gaius, who according to Merlin, knew more about the Old Religion than anyone else alive.

When Arthur stepped into the office, however, Merlin was not there. Instead, DCS Bayard was standing in front of the bulletin board, arms crossed as he examined the notes and photos pinned there.

“Good morning, sir.” Arthur set down his coffee and slid his laptop bag to the floor beside his desk. “May I help you with something?”

Bayard turned and scowled in Arthur’s direction. “I see you’ve recovered from that little incident last week.”

Arthur shrugged and slid a hand across his belly which, thanks to Merlin was fully healed, but he couldn’t exactly tell his boss about that. “Still a little sore but ready to work again.”

With a sharp nod, Bayard turned and motioned toward the bulletin board. “You have photographs here of graffiti from various locations around the city. The Gang Task Force has already looked into these. Why are you and DI Emrys investigating these tags?”

“Oh, we’re not.” Arthur stepped hastily to the board and began unpinning the photos Merlin had saved of the clues leading to the Crystal Cave. “We noticed them around a few crime scenes and took some photos to send over to Leon. Merlin talked to him last week about it, so we don’t need these anymore.” He turned and tossed the photos into the bin before returning to his desk.

Bayard frowned toward the bin for a moment, and Arthur tried his best to make his face casual, as if he had already forgotten about the photos. Still frowning, Bayard turned and started shifting around some papers on Merlin’s desk.

“What will you be working on today?”

Carefully maintaining his casual tone, Arthur answered, “I’m a bit out of the loop after my recovery, but I think we’re heading to London for a consultation.”

“With whom?” Bayard’s tone was anything but casual. He didn’t seem to believe Arthur was telling the whole truth. Which, of course, Arthur wasn’t. It was hard to hide things from the boss when that boss had been a detective for twenty years.

So he wouldn’t arouse Bayard’s suspicion even more, Arthur decided to stay as close to the truth as possible. “We’re consulting with an expert on druidic cults. Gathering as much information as we can for the cases against Alvarr Greenwood and Cerdan Rowe.”

For a moment, Bayard simply stared at Arthur, narrowing his eyes as if he was trying to decide whether he believed him. Finally he walked toward the door. “I’ll expect an expense report for that consultation.”

Arthur watched him walk down the hallway and then reached into the dustbin to retrieve Merlin’s photographs. He tucked them safely into the top drawer of his desk and started reading his email, jiggling his leg as he waited anxiously for Merlin to arrive.

*****

“But don’t you think it’s weird that Bayard would even notice those pictures?” Arthur and Merlin walked from the railway station toward The Phoenix Nest. “I mean, why should he care if you took pictures of some graffiti?”

“I don’t know, Arthur.” Merlin shrugged. “You said before that it’s like Bayard is just looking for a reason to sack me. Maybe he thought he could get me on wasting time or resources.”

Arthur shook his head. “But, this time, he wasn’t especially focused on you. It was like he was trying to find out what we’re doing. Like he didn’t trust either one of us.”

“Well, maybe he’s looking for reasons to sack you, too.” Merlin smirked and bumped his shoulder into Arthur’s. “Although I’m not sure a Pendragon has ever been sacked in Camelot.”

They arrived at Gaius’s shop, so Arthur just rolled his eyes and pushed the door open. Merlin grinned triumphantly as he walked past Arthur. Gaius was standing behind the counter, copying receipts into a ledger.

“Gaius, I swear I am buying you a mobile phone, and I’m going to sit on you until you learn how to use it.”

“Well, hello to you, too, Merlin.” Gaius looked up from his calculations, raising one eyebrow in an admonishing manner.

“I’ve been trying to reach you all weekend!” Merlin walked around the counter and gave his old friend a one-armed hug.

Gaius calmly set down his pencil and gave Merlin a quizzical look. “I was away.”

“I noticed.” Merlin widened his eyes, probably attempting to look annoyed, but he couldn’t hide his excitement, and Arthur found the resulting expression particularly adorable.

Gaius glanced at Arthur with a shrewd smile. “Welcome back, Mr. Pendragon. Do you wish to learn more about the Old Religion?”

Arthur gave Merlin a playful scowl. “I suppose you two had a good laugh about my last visit to this shop.”

Throwing his hands up, Merlin exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything.” He turned to Gaius, confused. “How do you know who Arthur is?”

“Ah, well. Uther Pendragon’s reach extends far beyond Camelot.” Gaius closed his ledger and placed it on a shelf underneath the counter. “The last time you were here, I did wonder whether your father had sent you. I didn’t find out until after your visit that you have been helping Merlin investigate his rather unique cases. I hope the information I gave you was of some help.”

Arthur expected more of an explanation of Gaius’s connection with his father, but Gaius did not provide any. He simply peered at Arthur, waiting for a response.

“Um… it was.” Arthur tilted his head apologetically. “And, well, Merlin’s helped me to see the truth about magic, so this time, I promise to have more of an open mind.”

With an appreciative nod to Arthur, Gaius finally turned to Merlin who was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet. “What can I do for you today, Merlin?”

“We found the Crystal Cave! All those clues I found around Camelot? Arthur figured them out, and they led us to the Crystal Cave. It was so beautiful!” Merlin blurted his news so quickly, Gaius barely had time to look shocked. “And Gaius, we found a dragon egg inside! At least I think it’s a dragon egg. I’m fairly certain. I can just feel it, somehow.”

Arthur nearly laughed out loud at the way Merlin seemed to have turned into an over-excited child telling his mentor about going on a treasure hunt. But when he looked at Gaius, expecting an amused expression at Merlin’s babbling, instead he found a brow furrowed with deep concern.

“Then it’s true,” he murmured. “All these years, none of us ever knew for certain.”

“You knew about it?” Merlin asked.

Shaking his head, Gaius walked back toward his office, and Merlin and Arthur exchanged a confused glance, unsure whether they were meant to follow him, but Gaius returned shortly carrying a dusty book whose leather binding was creased along the spine and fraying along the edges.

“Legend tells us that years ago when dragons were beginning to disappear from the earth, an ancient king named Ashkanar hid the last dragon egg. The Druids pledged to protect the egg, but only dragonlords were permitted to know its location.”

Gaius opened the book and gingerly turned the fragile pages as he continued, “That sacred knowledge was passed down from generation to generation, but as the last remaining dragons died, so too did the need for dragonlords. The gift bestowed from father to son for centuries began to lose strength, and younger generations did not carry the ability either to command dragons or to call them forth from their eggs.”

Crooking his finger to summon Merlin and Arthur closer, Gaius pointed to a drawing in the book. A man stood, mouth wide and head tossed back across from an egg perched on a stone. A claw peeked out from a crack in the egg. There were words printed below the image in a language Arthur did not recognize.

“That’s it,” Merlin breathed. “The egg we found looks exactly like that.” He looked up at Arthur with a hopeful grin.

“So are there any dragonlords left?” Arthur wondered.

With a deep sigh, Gaius closed the book and smoothed his hand across the cover. “Over time, the dragonlord gift became limited to a single family and would sometimes even skip several generations. When I was active in the Druid community, we still took seriously the duty of protecting the last dragon egg, which, to us, meant protecting the last known dragonlord.”

“So there is a living dragonlord?” Merlin’s voice was full of awe. “And he could summon the dragon from its egg? Do you know where he is, Gaius?”

As exciting as it would be to see a real dragon, Arthur couldn’t help but wonder whether bringing a dragon into the world would be the best idea.

But Gaius shook his head sadly. “During the 1980s, the Druids began to fracture into two groups. Over the years, the magic of the earth has dissipated, and even Druids had very little magical ability. Most of us were happy to keep using magic in small ways to keep the Old Religion alive, but a small group decided that summoning the dragon would bring magic back full force. They believed increased magical ability would give them power.

“Our once-peaceful community was thrown into upheaval. The dragonlord did not believe the time was right to call forth the dragon, but those seeking power decided he was wrong.” Gaius grimaced. “They tortured him, trying to make him give up the location of the dragon egg.”

Merlin grabbed Arthur’s arm and squeezed tight. “That’s terrible.”

“Indeed.” Gaius closed his eyes.

“But the egg was still in the cave,” Arthur pointed out. “So he was able to resist the torture, wasn’t he?”

Nodding slowly, Gaius pressed his fingers to his eyelids. “He was, but when we rescued him, he wasn’t certain he would withstand any more, so he decided that in order to protect the egg, he would have to forget where it was.”

Arthur was confused. “How could he do that? Trying to forget something usually just makes you think about it even more.”

“There are spells. A powerful enough sorcerer can make a person forget.”

Squinting his confusion at Gaius, Merlin asked, “But what about all the clues we found?”

“Ah, now that is interesting. Before he had the forgetting spell done, the dragonlord gave several trusted friends a single clue as to the egg’s whereabouts. That way, the knowledge would not be lost forever, but no individual knew the location, and no one knew which Druids had the clues.”

Arthur’s head was starting to spin with all the information Gaius was giving them at once. “So, what? They all just randomly decided to start spray-painting their clues around Camelot after all these years?”

Gaius shook his head and walked around the counter toward the centre of the shop. He motioned for Merlin and Arthur to follow him. “It wasn’t random.”

He stopped before a shelf full of crystals. Most were small and attached to chains to be worn around the neck, but a few were large enough to be displayed on stands. Gaius lifted one of the larger crystals and held it up, twisting it back and forth so the reflection of the shop’s fluorescent lights flashed on its faces.

“Starting a few months ago, I noted a sharp increase in the purchase of crystals. I discovered that a few particularly talented individuals had begun seeing visions in certain crystals.”

Arthur looked at Merlin who was staring back at him, eyes wide. The vision Merlin had seen in the Crystal of Neahtid was what made him believe the graffiti had something to do with his father.

“I believe,” Gaius continued, “That some event triggered the activation of the crystals, and the Druids who had information on the location of the dragon egg started leaving the graffiti in an attempt to find one another. Perhaps they believe the time is right to bring another dragon into the world.”

“But only a dragonlord can do that, right?” Merlin reached out to touch the crystal in Gaius’s hand, sliding his fingers along the edge and leaning forward to gaze into its surface. He looked up at Gaius again, and Arthur saw realization dawning on his face. “I saw my father in a crystal. Along with one of the clues.”

Gaius placed the crystal back on the shelf and turned to face Merlin fully, the worry lines on his forehead deepening. “When you went to the Crystal Cave, Merlin, how did you find the egg? And how did you know what it was?”

Merlin took two steps back, shaking his head in fear.

“The egg called to you, didn’t it?” Gaius’s face was kind as he spoke. “You were drawn to the dragon egg because you are a dragonlord, Merlin. Just as your father was.”

Arthur gaped at this revelation, and he looked at Merlin to see tears forming in his eyes.

Gaius continued in a solemn voice. “I was the one who performed the memory spell to make Balinor forget the location of the egg. He made me promise not to tell, but he asked me to look out for you, Merlin. In case you were also a dragonlord. In case those who came after him also came after you.”

Merlin’s lower lip was quivering, and he was shaking his head violently from side to side. “How could you keep this from me? All this time, you knew what happened to him? Why he was taken from us?”

Arthur’s heart was breaking for Merlin, and he placed his hand gently on his partner’s shoulder, but Merlin shook it off. He glared at Gaius. “You should have told me the truth.”

And Merlin spun away and stalked out of the shop.

With a sigh, Gaius turned to face Arthur. “Go after him.” He nodded toward the door. “And tell him I’m sorry.”

Arthur nodded his thanks to Gaius and walked briskly out the door and down the pavement to catch up with Merlin. He didn’t try to touch him this time, but he matched his pace and walked alongside him in silence for about a block.

Merlin began to slow down, and his shoulders slumped, defeated. He stopped walking and closed his eyes, his face pinched as he began to cry in earnest. Arthur placed one hand gently on Merlin’s upper arm, pulled him into an alcove between two shops and then wrapped both arms around him, holding him tight as Merlin let go and allowed a few sobs to escape.

He murmured apologies and words of comfort into Merlin’s hair, stroking his fingers across his back and shoulders and neck. Merlin pressed his face into Arthur’s neck, wetting his skin with warm tears. Without raising his head, Merlin spoke, his words reverberating through Arthur’s chest.

“He really is dead. They took him, and they tortured him.” He took a deep shuddering breath and lifted his head, puffy red eyes meeting Arthur’s. “I guess I always knew that mostly likely he was dead, but…” The words caught in his throat for a moment. “Not like that.”

Arthur reached up and combed his fingers through Merlin’s dishevelled hair and brushed the tears from Merlin’s cheek with his thumb. “I’m sorry.”

Leaning into Arthur’s touch, Merlin closed his eyes. His mouth formed a tight line. “I understand that Gaius was just keeping his promise and trying to protect me, but I wish he would have told me the truth.”

Arthur nodded. “He said to tell you he was sorry.”

Merlin gave a slight shrug. “I know he is.” He furrowed his brow and nodded slowly. “I should go back and talk to him.”

He extricated himself from Arthur’s arms, but as they walked back toward Gaius’s shop, he reached for Arthur’s hand to hold. “Thank you.” He gave a hesitant smile.

Just before they reached The Phoenix Nest, Arthur’s mobile buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the screen. “It’s my father. You go talk to Gaius, and I’ll stay out here and wait for you.”

Merlin entered the shop, and Arthur leaned against the brick wall to talk with his father.

“I got a call from Martin Bayard this morning. He mentioned that you were injured on the job and spent a few days in hospital last week. You didn’t think to share this information with your father?”

Arthur sighed. No, he had not thought to share his injury with his father. He didn’t think his father would care.

“Well, have you recovered?” Uther’s voice showed no hint of concern.

“Yes, I have. The injury wasn’t severe.” Arthur knew his father would ask for no further details.

“I’m glad to hear it. I want you to come for dinner tonight.”

Arthur was aware Uther’s invitation was actually more of a command, but he couldn’t help scoffing. “I’m in London with Merlin. I can’t come for dinner tonight.”

But no one turned down Uther Pendragon, and Arthur knew his protest would be ignored. “Then bring Merlin as well. I will expect you both at seven o-clock.”

Arthur stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, resenting his father and cursing his demanding personality until he remembered what Merlin was discussing with Gaius at that very moment, and his anger dissolved rapidly. He did love his father, and even though Uther was challenging to deal with, Arthur was glad he was still around. He would do his best to have a positive attitude about tonight’s dinner.

*****

After Uther’s tenth condescending question to Merlin about the nature of the cases they investigated, Arthur was grinding his teeth and clenching his fists and trying to remember why he hadn’t faked another injury to get out of this dinner. For his part, Merlin was doing an excellent job maintaining patience and answering Uther’s questions with a combination of official police statements and half-truths. But Arthur could tell Merlin’s avoidance was frustrating Uther.

“But don’t you believe some of these so-called victims would be better off getting the psychiatric help they need rather than validation of their absurd claims from respected establishments like the Camelot Police Department?”

Merlin flinched, clearly wounded by Uther’s complete dismissal of his life’s work, and Arthur opened his mouth to chastise his father, but Merlin, bless him, spoke up before Arthur had a chance.

“I believe everyone deserves to feel safe. And I believe everyone deserves justice.” Merlin fixed Uther with an unwavering stare. “And I do not believe it is the responsibility of those charged with protecting the public to decide who deserves our help and who doesn’t.”

At Merlin’s words, tears sprung to Arthur’s eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. And Arthur realised that he had fallen completely in love with this man. This exceptionally compassionate and courageous man.

Uther merely grunted, pushed away his untouched dessert, glanced at his watch and stood. “I have a conference call to New York in ten minutes. It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Emrys.” He gave Merlin a polite nod and then turned to his son. “Arthur, you should make an attempt to visit more often.” And he walked out of the dining room.

Merlin watched Uther leave and then turned to Arthur. “Your father … is a very interesting man.”

He pursed his lips together into the sassiest smirk Arthur had ever seen, which made Arthur laugh out loud. Laughing felt good after they day they’d had.

“Interesting? That’s one way of putting it.” He pushed away from the table. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

But Merlin remained seated, looking around the dining room toward the door into the main sitting room. “Actually, do you think your father would mind if you gave me a tour of the house?” He gave a little shrug. “I’d like to see where you grew up. Gain some insight into the arrogant little rich kid who grew up to be…” He trailed off, gazing fondly at Arthur.

“Grew up to be…?” Arthur stood and reached his hand out to Merlin.

Merlin took his hand and stood, maintaining eye-contact and stepping close enough that Arthur could feel the heat radiating from his skin. “The best partner I could ever imagine.” And Merlin’s hungry gaze dropped to Arthur’s lips, indicating that he wasn’t entirely referring to their partnership on the force.

Merlin licked his lips and smiled. He tugged Arthur toward the sitting room, affecting a lofty tone. “Come along. Show me the conservatory and the ballroom and the swimming pool.”

With another chuckle, Arthur went along, playing tour guide as if he were showing Merlin around an historic castle. He had never felt entirely comfortable in his house like other people always seemed to feel in their own homes, but walking through the cold rooms full of antiques that were not meant for touching and chairs that were not meant for sitting, laughing and joking with his hand warm in Merlin’s, Arthur felt that he had finally discovered what the house was missing.

He squeezed Merlin’s hand, feeling happy and content and full of hope. And Merlin smiled at him.

“I want to see your library.”

The moment they entered the large room whose walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves, Merlin stopped short and breathed an impressed, “Wow.”

Arthur smiled, because this was the one place in his father’s house that could make him feel nostalgic for his childhood. Merlin walked along one wall, hand out, brushing the spines of the books. Arthur followed, a few favourite titles jumping out at him and calling him to settle into the old, green armchair — one of the only comfortable chairs in the house — and read for hours as he did as a child.

Merlin turned to him, mouth agape. “This is amazing. You do realise how lucky you were to have access to of all of this as a kid?”

Looking around the room, Arthur could appreciate how fortunate he was to have grown up not having to worry about his education or about having the clothes or other material things he needed, but he also remembered how this library had been an escape for him. How he had never felt good enough, and how he had always had to strive for his father’s attention.

His gaze settled on Merlin, who made him feel like he mattered and was perfect just the way he was. “I don’t know. I think I’m pretty lucky now, actually.” His lips curved into an earnest smile.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to come on to me?” He started walking toward Arthur.

Confused, Arthur tried to point out that he was being sincere. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Merlin shrugged. “That’s too bad, because if you did, I was going to kiss you.” He stopped directly in front of Arthur and gave him a look that clearly said, “Your move.”

Arthur’s heart leapt into this throat, and, with a sly grin, he backtracked. “Oh no, I misunderstood. Yes, I absolutely meant it as a come on.”

“Good,” Merlin declared.

And then he slid his hands around Arthur’s waist and leaned forward, pressing their lips together. Arthur closed his eyes and raised one hand to the back of Merlin’s neck, stroking his thumb along the stubble just below his jawline. He slid his tongue along Merlin’s bottom lip, and Merlin moaned, fingers digging into the muscles of Arthur’s back, pulling him close. Arthur licked into Merlin’s mouth, delighting in the little gasps of hot breath he felt on his lips. He moved to nip down Merlin’s jaw, and Merlin tossed his head back to give Arthur access to his throat.

As Arthur pressed open-mouthed kisses into his throat, Merlin gasped, “Ah… Arthur. You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

Arthur returned to Merlin’s lips to emphasise his agreement. “Mmm… I’ve wanted you, too.” He slowed down a bit, and they stood, bodies pressed together, eyes closed, lips barely brushing. “Do you have any idea how gorgeous you are, Merlin?”

He felt Merlin’s breath on his lips and felt his stomach pulse as he gave a sceptical laugh. “Says the golden Adonis.” He pulled back slightly, and his twinkling eyes met Arthur’s. “Let’s go back to my place, shall we?” His smile was suddenly hesitant, unsure.

More than anything, Arthur wanted to say, “Hell, yes!” But he also didn’t want to rush. He wanted this thing with Merlin to last. “I want to, Merlin. You know I want to, but today was kind of a rough day. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

Merlin looked disappointed but reluctantly nodded his agreement. “I’d still like you to come with me, though. We don’t have to do anything, just… talk?”

“I’d like that.” Arthur nodded, and, reaching for Merlin’s hand, he started toward the door.

But as they passed Arthur’s favourite armchair, Merlin paused, reaching for a book lying on the end table. “Why does your father have a book about modern Druids?”

As he picked the book up, a photograph slipped from between its pages and fluttered to the floor. Merlin stooped to pick it up but froze half-hunched as soon as he saw it.

“What is it, Merlin?” Arthur craned his neck to see around Merlin’s shoulders.

Merlin stood and gave Arthur an oddly accusing look. He held the photo out so Arthur could see. It looked like a statue in a church cemetery. Arthur squinted, bending closer for a better look. He had never seen this photograph before, but the statue did look vaguely familiar.

“That’s my father.” Merlin’s voice was low, seething. “They didn’t kill him. They turned him into a statue.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in shock. “What? What makes you think that, Merlin? This could just be made to look like him.”

But Merlin shook his head. “No. If they ever did find the egg, they would need a dragonlord to control the dragon. They must have preserved him in stone to save him for the time they would need him.”

Pursing his lips, Arthur held back from telling Merlin his theory was a bit of a stretch. Only a few hours before had Merlin finally accepted that his father was dead, so, naturally, finding this statue made him believe he had a chance of getting him back.

Merlin looked up at Arthur, eyes pleading. “I know how it sounds, Arthur. But if there’s a chance…”

Arthur leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Merlin’s, reaching up and cradling his hand that held the photo. “Okay,” Arthur agreed. Because, at this point, Arthur was so far gone, he would agree to almost anything to see Merlin happy. “Let’s go find that church.”

*****

Early the next morning, Merlin and Arthur were walking, hand in hand, into a churchyard in Scotland. There were enough visual clues in the photograph to help them locate the cemetery with just a bit of online research. Arthur suggested they take the rest of the week off and drive up the next morning, but Merlin could not wait. So just after midnight, Arthur had found himself driving up the M6 with a very anxious Merlin in the seat beside him, reading through spell books and using his phone as a torch, trying to find out how to revive a person who had been turned to stone.

The sun was low in the sky as they passed through a stone archway into the cemetery at the rear of the church. Two steps in, Merlin paused. Fear in his eyes, he looked at Arthur, who gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Together, they walked between gravestones and monuments, around the back corner of the church until they spotted the statue they were looking for.

Releasing Arthur’s hand, Merlin walked slowly up to the statue until he and it were face to face. He raised his hand as if to touch the stone but dropped it for a moment. Arthur walked a bit closer. He kept his distance but chose a spot to stand where he knew he was visible to Merlin. He wanted to allow Merlin the space to come to grips with the effigy of the father he lost so many years ago, but he also wanted Merlin to know he was there for him, if needed.

Finally, Merlin raised his hand and caressed the stone cheek of his father for just a moment before letting his hand fall to his side once more. “You look just the same. All this time, you’ve been right here. My Daddy.”

Merlin’s face remained stoic, but the tenderness in his voice brought tears to Arthur’s eyes. He wanted to reach out his hand to connect with Merlin somehow, but he also didn’t want to intrude. Merlin stepped back from the statue, raised one hand and started the spell, but his voice broke, and he couldn’t continue.

He lowered his hand and looked at Arthur. “What if it doesn’t work?” His face crumpled in a single sob, and he reached for Arthur at the same moment as Arthur reached out to close the space between them.

Arthur held Merlin, but this time, he wasn’t actually crying, just breathing deeply, as if steeling himself for what he needed to do. He pulled away and brushed a hand through the hair above Arthur’s ear. He tilted his head up and planted a kiss on Arthur’s forehead.

“Thank you for being so understanding. And for driving all through the night!” Merlin chuckled.

“Of course.” Arthur pulled Merlin tighter against him. “What are partners for?”

With a laugh, Merlin gave his hips a little wiggle. “Well, I’m not certain this is what Bayard had in mind when he assigned us to work together.”

Arthur shrugged and gave a half-hearted chuckle. “I’m not sure anyone could have imagined this...” He gestured around the cemetery, emphasising Merlin’s stone father. “But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend quite a bit of time imagining this…” He gestured between them and smiled sincerely. “Right from the start.”

Nodding, Merlin pressed his soft lips to Arthur’s. The kiss was brief but tender and full of promise. When he pulled away this time, he took a deep breath and blew it out pursed lips, turning toward the statue with renewed determination.

Arthur stepped back as Merlin raised his hand again and rasped out mysterious words. Arthur wasn’t sure what to expect — a flash of light, maybe, or glittering sparks — but the moment Merlin uttered the final word, without fanfare or warning, the statue was gone, and a man stood before them.

His eyes went wide, and he took several steps backward, holding his hands out defensively and looking back and forth between Merlin and Arthur.

“Who are you?” His voice was raw. “Where have you taken me? Where is my family?”

“I…” Merlin stared at him, wide-eyed, suddenly unable to speak.

So Arthur spoke up. “You’re safe, Balinor. We came here to help you.” He spread his hands, palm up before him to emphasise his benign intent. “You… Well, you were transformed into a statue, and you’ve apparently been standing in this churchyard for … several years.”

Arthur was hesitant to be specific because he wasn’t sure how much Balinor could handle all at once.

“Years?” Balinor’s face registered shock and horror. “But my family. My wife and my little boy. Do they know I’m here?”

“They didn’t.” Merlin finally spoke up. “Until last night.”

Merlin was shaking. Arthur could see he wanted to tell his father who he was, but he didn’t seem to know quite how.

“Where are they?” Balinor was beginning to lose his patience.

Merlin took another deep breath. “Hunith is at home. The same home you were taken from.”

Balinor’s eyes widened in fright. He whispered, “But Merlin isn’t with her? Did they take him, too?”

Lower lip trembling, Merlin looked straight at Balinor. “You’ve been frozen here for twenty-four years.”

Arthur had no idea how Balinor reacted to this revelation, because he could not take his eyes from Merlin. His shoulders quivered, and his eyes shone with tears.

“I’m Merlin.” A single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. “I’m your son.”

Arthur finally tore his eyes from Merlin to look at Balinor. His eyebrows came together in confusion, but as he looked at Merlin, his eyes showed a spark of recognition.

His voice was nothing but a whisper. “Merlin?” He stepped forward. “My Merlin?”

Merlin nodded, a hint of a smile showing first in his eyes and then curling his lips and raising his cheeks. Without another word, Balinor reached out his arms and wrapped them around his son. As Arthur watched, he saw Merlin’s shoulders shaking with sobs, and Arthur felt warm tears fill his own eyes and spill down his cheeks. He turned away and walked toward the church to allow father and son to reconnect in private.

As he waited, Arthur’s mind wandered to a subject he had been deliberately avoiding thinking about all night. Why had his father had a photograph of Balinor as a statue? Could he have had something to do with his kidnapping? Arthur knew his father was competitive and power-hungry, but he did not want to believe that he had worked all those years ago with the Druids who wanted a dragon to gain more power. He tried to remember whether his father had ever shown any indication of believing in magic. After ten or fifteen minutes had passed, Merlin and Balinor came walking up, shoulder to shoulder, to find Arthur.

“Arthur!” Merlin’s grin was bright and reached nearly from ear to ear. “I want you to meet my father!”

He actually laughed at being able to say those words, and Arthur grinned in response.

“I’m very pleased to meet you.” He reached his hand out to shake Balinor’s. “You have an incredible son who never gave up on finding you all these years.”

“Merlin tells me he would never have found me without your help.” Balinor smiled warmly. “So thank you.”

Arthur gave a dismissive shrug. He certainly didn’t want to take credit for helping rescue Balinor when his own father might have been partly responsible for his being here in the first place. “No, I hardly did anything. It was all Merlin, really.”

Merlin put his arm around Arthur’s waist and pulled him close, giving a couple of squeezes. “You helped more than you know, Arthur.” He rested his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “I mean it.”

Looking into Merlin’s eyes and seeing nothing but happiness and sincerity, Arthur could not help kissing the tip of Merlin’s nose. “I’m glad I could help.”

They stared at each other, eyes twinkling happily for a few moments until Balinor cleared his throat. “I think we have a lot of catching up to do.” Arthur looked for any hint of judgment in Balinor’s expression and found none. He only looked sad that he had missed his son growing up.

“I really want to get to know you, son.” He smiled at both of them. “And you, Arthur. But first, I think I would like to go see my wife.” He motioned toward the archway. “Shall we?”

And Merlin took Arthur’s hand in his and, together, they led Merlin’s father out of the cemetery he had guarded for twenty-four years to be reunited with his family. As he drove toward Ealdor, Merlin and Balinor talking and laughing in the back seat, Arthur couldn’t keep the smile from his face. At some point in the near future, he would have to confront his own father about his involvement with Balinor’s disappearance, but for now, Arthur was so grateful to hear Merlin’s joyful, carefree laugh, he could not help joining in.

*****

“Parents and egg finally settled. Leaving Ealdor. Should arrive a”

Arthur frowned at his mobile. Merlin’s text was choppier than usual, and the fact that it cut off mid-sentence made Arthur worry that Merlin was texting while driving. In case that was true, he didn’t answer the text so he wouldn’t distract his partner further. He set his phone on the desk and turned back to his computer to continue typing the notes from his latest case.

A couple of minutes later, his phone buzzed again.

“Sorry light changed. Arriving at 8:45pm. Can’t wait to see you!”

With a deep sigh, Arthur quickly typed, “You are an officer of the law. Do Not Text and Drive!” And then, because he was getting butterflies in his stomach just thinking about seeing Merlin in a few hours, and because, even though he was a grown man and a professional detective, he was still on that giddy, start-of-the-relationship high, Arthur added a kissy-face emoticon.

After they had rescued Balinor from the cemetery and reunited him with Hunith, Merlin and his parents decided they needed some time to get reacquainted, so Merlin took a two-week leave of absence from work. And as much as he and Arthur wanted to spend time together, they both decided Merlin should focus completely on his family during those two weeks. So they talked on the phone and texted quite a bit, but Arthur had not seen Merlin since the Friday after they returned Balinor to Ealdor. And having shared only a few kisses with Merlin after they finally acknowledged their feelings for one another, Arthur was desperate for some time alone with the man he had spent the last few months falling in love with.

Arthur did take the opportunity while Merlin was away to confront his father. That conversation had not gone well. As CEO of one of the largest companies in Camelot, Uther was a master at creating plausible deniability.

“Of course I knew that magic existed. And, yes, I have been aware for many years of the existence of hidden communities of magic-users. I am well-educated and well-read in many subjects, Arthur.”

Uther had barely looked up from his newspaper when Arthur stormed into his office, demanding to know more about the book Merlin had found in Uther’s library.

“Then why did you have a photograph of Balinor as a statue? Did you know that statue was actually a real person?” Uther’s casual indifference toward Arthur’s fury was making Arthur shake. “Did you know that was my partner’s father?”

Finally meeting Arthur’s eyes, Uther stared quietly for several infuriating moments before answering. “I knew the statue resembled a man named Balinor Emrys who was known for having stronger than average magical abilities, most likely due to his notable lineage.”

Hearing this made Arthur’s eyes flare with hot anger, but Uther continued before Arthur had a chance to shout his rage at his father. “And, yes, I did know that Merlin Emrys was the son of Balinor Emrys and therefore had the same powerful ancestors.”

Arthur clenched his jaw and breathed deeply as he stared in disbelief at his father. “You knew? You knew his father was frozen in stone, and you didn’t tell me?”

“I knew there existed a statue that resembled your partner’s father.” Uther shook his head. “I did not believe that information alone warranted seeking you out. Perhaps if you visited on a more regular basis or showed any interest in getting to know your own father, the subject might have come up naturally in conversation.”

Arthur had to turn around and walk toward the door, putting as much distance between him and his father as he could, so he wouldn’t lose his temper. He would have walked out of the house and never returned, but he still needed answers. He knew his father was lying. He believed Uther knew the statue was actually Balinor. And he suspected that he had known long before Arthur had been assigned to work with Merlin.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Arthur that made his blood run cold. Arthur had seen his father coming out of a meeting with DCS Bayard. If Uther was responsible for Balinor being turned to stone, perhaps he had somehow arranged for Arthur to be partnered with Balinor’s son. Perhaps he had even been responsible for bringing Merlin to Camelot in the first place so he could keep a closer eye on the man who might turn out to be a dragonlord.

Arthur pressed his palm against the cold wood of the office door and took several deep breaths before turning to face his father again. “Did you tell your old friend Martin Bayard to assign me to spy on Merlin for you?”

Uther narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin slightly in defiance. His silence confirmed Arthur’s suspicions. And without another word, Arthur walked out of his father’s office and out of his father’s house.

He received several angry voicemails scolding him for his “little tantrum,” but he deleted them without a second thought. At least now Arthur knew he could turn down a dinner invitation from Uther Pendragon and the world would not end.

After Arthur finished typing his notes, he packed up his laptop to complete the report at home. He checked the clock frequently as he ate his dinner, anxious for Merlin to arrive. Arthur remembered the night he told Merlin about his conversation with his father. He had raged and reviled his father’s actions, but rather than joining Arthur in his furore, Merlin was contemplative, theorising on the reasons behind Uther’s behaviour.

“Oh, hey! Remember when Gaius said that some event must have triggered the crystals to start showing the clues my father left?”

Arthur vaguely remembered Gaius saying something like that.

“What if the event that triggered the crystals was when you and I became partners?” Merlin actually sounded pleased. “Like the universe was trying to fix all the wrong that had been done by pairing the dragonlord’s son with the son of his enemy!”

Shoving the last bite of bread into his mouth, Arthur smiled and picked up his plate to carry to the sink. Only Merlin could put a positive spin on finding out his partner’s father had most likely been responsible for the disappearance of his own father. Although, Arthur supposed as he rinsed his plate and his glass, he would rather believe the universe or fate or some greater power was responsible for his partnership with Merlin than believe Uther Pendragon had brought them together.

Arthur picked up his laptop and settled onto the couch to finish his report on the case he had worked alone while Merlin was away. He tried to concentrate on getting all the details right, so the prosecutor would have no trouble getting a conviction in court, but his mind kept wandering to Merlin and how it would feel to hold him in his arms again, pulling his warm body close as Arthur buried his face in his neck and breathed in his scent. He imagined sliding his hands underneath Merlin’s shirt and scratching his nails down Merlin’s back as Merlin tossed his head back, mouth agape. Arthur shifted on the couch as his trousers started to feel tight. He sighed and closed his laptop, resolving to finish the report tomorrow when he could give it the focus it deserved. For now, he grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, checking the clock again. One more hour.

When he finally heard a knock on his door, Arthur hastily hit the power button and flew to the door, throwing it open, unable to contain an embarrassingly large grin.

“Merlin!”

He was relieved to see Merlin’s face split into an equally wide grin. Arthur reached for Merlin’s arm and pulled him into the flat. He carefully pulled Merlin’s bag from his shoulder, placed it on the floor and then wrapped both arms tightly around his shoulders and squeezed.

Merlin hummed and slid his own arms around Arthur’s waist, pulling him close. “I missed you.”

Not quite ready to release Merlin, Arthur tucked his face into the crook of Merlin’s neck and hummed back. “I missed you, too.”

They held one another close for a few moments before Merlin pulled back slightly and kissed the tip of Arthur’s nose. “Give me just a minute? I need the loo.”

With a slight chuckle, Arthur stepped aside to let Merlin pass, but he called after him, “You hungry? I could reheat some chicken and potatoes for you.”

“No thanks. I’m fine.” Merlin shook his head and stepped around the corner, but he immediately poked his head out again with a sheepish grin. “Actually, do you have any eggs?”

Arthur was frying two eggs when Merlin came into the kitchen, pressing his fingers into his lower back and stretching. “Damn, that’s a long drive.” He stepped right up behind Arthur and slid his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Arthur’s shoulder, watching him flip the eggs with his spatula. “Thank you. Those’ll be perfect.”

Merlin’s thumb stroked Arthur’s belly, and his cheek rubbed against his neck, and Arthur nearly burned the eggs, but soon they were sitting on Arthur’s couch, thighs pressed together, as Merlin ate his eggs, and Arthur told him all about his most recent case. When Merlin finished, he drank an entire glass of water and then leaned back, settling into the couch and leaning his head onto Arthur’s shoulder with a deep sigh.

He didn’t say anything, but he stroked his hand up and down Arthur’s arm, fingers traipsing gently from Arthur’s bicep all the way down to his fingers and back again. His touch was perfect in that moment, comfortable and easy but also leaving a trail of sparks in its wake. Arthur pressed a kiss into his hair.

“So you had a good visit with your parents?”

Merlin hummed and nodded his head slowly. “I did.”

Then Arthur felt a sharp exhale he couldn’t identify as a chuckle or a sob, so he leaned his head down to look at Merlin’s face. His eyes were closed, but his lips were curled into a slight smile. He must have felt Arthur move, because he opened his eyes. Arthur’s breath caught when he saw that Merlin’s eyes were filled with a sadness that did not match his smile.

He shrugged. “A nice visit with my parents. That’s something I never thought I’d be able to have.”

Arthur’s heart clenched with grief and guilt. Since he was a child, Merlin only had a mother, so, naturally as an adult, he knew nothing of visiting his parents. He travelled back to Ealdor at Christmas to visit his mother. On his birthday, he got a phone call from his mother. The sadness in his eyes was not caused by this visit with his parents. Merlin’s sorrow was for all the visits the three of them had missed over the years.

And Arthur hated that his own father had likely caused Merlin’s pain.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin.” Arthur pulled back so he could look directly into Merlin’s eyes. “If I had known…” He trailed off, shrugging and shaking his head helplessly.

“I know.” Merlin gazed back at him, a crease appearing in his forehead. “My father told me a little about what happened that night he was taken from our home.” Merlin gave Arthur’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Do you want to know?”

Merlin’s hesitancy to tell Arthur the truth already seemed to implicate Uther, but as much as Arthur did not want to believe his father could be responsible for Balinor’s abduction and imprisonment, Arthur needed to know the truth. He slid his hand into Merlin’s, interlocking their fingers, and then he nodded.

“Uther was there.” Merlin kept his eyes locked with Arthur’s as he confirmed his worst suspicions. “Dad told me the splinter group of druids took him three times before that last night. They wanted him to lead them to the dragon egg and to call forth the dragon, so they could reignite the power of magic in the world. He knew they would keep trying, so he made Gaius remove all his memories related to the dragon egg and dragon lore. Uther was never directly involved with the abductions or…” Merlin swallowed hard. “The torture.” His gaze dropped to his lap for a moment, but he took a deep breath and continued, “But he was always there. In the background. Just observing.”

A sense of horror crept over Arthur. He knew his father was a ruthless businessman, willing to push others down to make his way to the top, but to hear that he had watched as a man was tortured made Arthur’s skin crawl and bile rise in his throat.

“Dad said it was Uther’s idea to turn him to stone. He told the others that preserving the last dragonlord would ensure their group’s ability to control a dragon if they ever discovered the location of the egg. And also…” Merlin bit his lip and cut his eyes to the side, away from Arthur’s face.

“What?” Arthur dreaded hearing more, but he needed to know everything about his father’s involvement.

Looking back up at Arthur, Merlin tilted his head in apology, which was ridiculous. Why should Merlin feel sorry for Arthur when it had been Arthur’s own father who tore apart Merlin’s family?

“Uther told my father, just before the spell was cast to make him a statue, that he would keep an eye on his son — on me — to see whether I would inherit the dragonlord’s gifts.” Merlin gave a little shrug. “I suspect you were right. Your father was the one who convinced Bayard to bring me to Camelot.”

Arthur’s head hurt. His entire life, his father had kept this secret. His knowledge of the existence of magic. His desire to control a dragon. His torturing a young father and then turning him to stone.

As Arthur looked into Merlin’s sympathetic eyes, he felt terrible guilt. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could have done something. If I had known before, I would have done whatever I could to help, Merlin. You have to know that.”

Merlin turned on the couch to face Arthur fully. He reached with both hands to cup Arthur’s face, thumbs stroking along Arthur’s cheeks. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Arthur. You are not responsible for your father’s actions. And you have helped me. Since that very first day when you walked into the basement ready for whatever crazy case I threw at you.” Merlin smiled. “And there have been some crazy cases, haven’t there?”

With a chuckle, Arthur nodded. “Remember the spider-man?”

Eyes lighting up, Merlin laughed and reached up to card his fingers through Arthur’s hair. “Through all the craziness, you kept me grounded, Arthur. I don’t know what I would have done without you. Even when I was losing faith in myself, you believed in me. You stood by me, and that meant a lot.” He splayed his hand around the nape of Arthur’s neck. “And when I told you about my magic, you didn’t kick me out or call me a freak or even ask me to put on a show; you just kept being my partner and helping me solve mysteries.”

Merlin leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Arthur’s. “You have helped me more than you know, Arthur.” He closed his eyes and whispered, “And I love you for that.”

Overwhelmed by his feelings for this man, Arthur tilted his head forward and captured Merlin’s lips. He brought one hand up to press into the curls at the nape of Merlin’s neck, pulling him closer as he parted his own lips, his tongue seeking the wet heat of Merlin’s mouth.

With a slight moan, Merlin melted against him, arms sliding down his back and settling at his waist for just a moment, before his fingers began to tug at the hem of Arthur’s shirt. They got a bit tangled as Merlin pulled the shirt up and over Arthur’s head, and Arthur started to giggle, but then Merlin got up on his knees, tossed one leg over both of Arthur’s and straddled his lap, and Arthur’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Merlin on top of him.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, Merlin watched his own fingers stroking up and down Arthur’s chest. Arthur tipped his head back with a deep moan as Merlin leaned down to nibble on his Adam’s apple. His hips kept stuttering upward in tiny movements as he sought any sort of friction. Finally, Arthur gripped Merlin’s hips and pulled him forward, causing both of them to moan loudly, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

Merlin leaned down, attacking his mouth, and their tongues tangled and their teeth clacked together, and Arthur had never felt such an intense need of another person in his whole life, and when Merlin pulled back, meeting his eyes and reaching for the button of his trousers with a whispered “Can I?” Arthur nearly lifted his hips clear off the couch with the need for Merlin’s touch.

He nodded vigorously. “Please, yes!” His voice sounded raspy and a bit desperate, but he didn’t care, especially when Merlin’s eyes crinkled at the corners and his lips curled into a self-satisfied smirk as he dove in to suck on Arthur’s bottom lip while his fingers were busy tugging on the zip of Arthur’s trousers.

Later that night, Arthur lay in his bed, spooned against Merlin’s back, legs slotted together, one arm draped over Merlin’s belly, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breath. He pressed gentle kisses from just behind Merlin’s ear to the curve of his shoulder.

Merlin hummed sleepily, and Arthur smiled, remembering the last time he watched Merlin fall asleep. It was a few weeks ago, when they were working on the Mordred case, and Arthur practically had to force Merlin to sleep before he passed out from exhaustion. That night Hunith had told Arthur he was good for Merlin, that he helped keep him grounded. And Merlin had said the same tonight.

Pressing his nose into the base of Merlin’s neck, Arthur took a deep breath, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Merlin’s. He wished he had told Merlin just how much he helped Arthur, as well. Even before Arthur saw the griffin and started believing in magic, Merlin showed Arthur how to investigate with an open mind. How to leave behind all his preconceived notions about analysing evidence and just let his mind soar freely through all the possibilities. Together, Arthur thought they made a pretty terrific team.

Arthur shifted a bit, snuggling close to Merlin and settling into the pillow. He murmured a simple “love you” as he felt himself drifting off to sleep.

*****

They continued their work just as before, investigating the cases with an element of mystery that befuddled the other detectives. But now that Arthur knew about Merlin’s special abilities, he could help distract witnesses while Merlin used his magic to gather evidence or track down a suspect. They developed a reputation on the force as the detectives to call when the situation seemed hopeless.

Valiant started calling them Mr. and Mr. Spooky, but now the nicknames were used with respect, so Merlin and Arthur didn’t mind the teasing.

Balinor decided not to press charges against Uther or the druids who had abducted him. Arthur believed his testimony, but they knew few others would. Instead, Hunith and Balinor moved to a small cottage in the country. They felt it would be difficult to explain to friends and neighbours in Ealdor why Balinor had reappeared after so many years and why he did not appear to have aged. It was difficult enough for the two of them to deal with, but their deep love for one another would carry them through.

Merlin told Gaius about his father’s return, and Gaius agreed not to share that information with any other druids. As far as most of the magical community was concerned, Balinor Emrys had died twenty-four years ago.

The dragon egg was hidden safely away once more, and only Merlin and his father knew its location. Perhaps they would sense a need to return dragons to the world one day, but now was not the time.

As for Uther, Arthur had not decided yet whether he would ever speak to him again. He suggested to Merlin that they should use on Uther the memory spell Gaius had used on Balinor. “We could make him forget everything he knows about magic and about dragons. That’s the only way you and your family will be safe.”

But Merlin didn’t seem to think that was a good idea. He thought Arthur could be a good influence on Uther and change his mind about taking advantage of sorcerers for his own gain. But Arthur suspected Merlin’s experience of losing his father so young had made him a little too sentimental about fathers and sons. He seemed to want Arthur to make up with Uther, although he wasn’t pushing him, for which Arthur was grateful. Maybe one day Arthur would be able to forgive his father, but he was not ready yet.

Arthur walked down the stairs to the basement carrying two sandwiches from the café down the street. Merlin was busy finishing up some paperwork, so Arthur volunteered to grab lunch for them both. As he stepped into the office, however, Merlin was not at his computer. He was standing at his worktable, flipping through one of his oldest magic books.

He looked up at Arthur, eyes gleaming with excitement. “In the city council meeting this morning, several members of the council were overcome with unexplained flatulence.” Merlin snorted.

Arthur stared in disbelief at his partner who had apparently reverted to a thirteen year old boy.

“Also, when the mayor showed up,” Merlin snickered, “he had lost all of his hair overnight!” Merlin swished his hand over the top of his head, emphasising the motion with a high-pitched whistle. “Completely bald!”

Arthur shook his head, confused at Merlin’s glee. “So it’s some sort of prank? Are they pressing charges? How does this concern us?” He walked to his desk to set down the bag with his and Merlin’s lunch.

“I’m getting to that.” Merlin closed his book and walked around the table, pulling out his sandwich and taking a large bite as he grabbed his coat from the back of his chair. He continued, speaking around the food in his mouth as he shifted the sandwich back and forth between his hands to pull on his coat. “At one point during the meeting, everyone in the room fell asleep at the same time, and when they woke up, their watches, rings and other jewellery were missing. Every item in the room made of gold had just disappeared.”

“Ah.” Now Arthur understood. A robbery had taken place, so clearly this was a police matter, but that still didn’t explain why he and Merlin would be involved. Arthur put one hand on Merlin’s shoulder, turning him to face Arthur. Somewhat amused, he gave his partner a suspicious look. “So why are you grinning like a maniac?”

Quirking his eyebrows, Merlin leaned in conspiratorially. “Because I think one of the council members has been possessed by a goblin.”

“A goblin?” Arthur burst out laughing. “Merlin, you are completely insane!”

Merlin gave Arthur his most dazzling smile. “Maybe, but you love me anyway.” And he bounded out the door, shouting to Arthur, “Come on!”

Arthur stood, chuckling and shaking his head for a few moments before he followed his partner toward the stairs. Because, of course, Merlin was right. Arthur did love him, and he would follow him anywhere. Even to Town Hall to investigate a mischievous goblin.