A/n: Hey guys! This is the third installment of "Spiders and Spice and Everything Nice" (sorry for the extreme tardiness...I haven't been feeling too well lately). I don't even know what this crack chapter is, but I guess you can have it.

If you haven't read the previous (two short) stories, this one may be read independently. I think most things are explained in the story. Granted, I do have some continuances from last time that might be more fun if you have read the previous two.

The Goblin in the Maze

Chapter One

"Sit tight, Arthur, I've got a surprise for you," Merlin beamed as he patted his boyfriend's thigh. Before Arthur could even so much as ask what it was, Merlin was bounding off in the direction of his own bedroom, the room Arthur had been barred from entering for the last two weeks.

Smiling, Arthur leaned back into Merlin's couch and watched as the credits to a Friday the 13th movie rolled down the screen, wondering just what it was Merlin could possibly be giving him and why. It wasn't his birthday, nor was it Christmas; in fact, it was close to Halloween, and Merlin had already given Arthur more than he could ever want. In the last six months with Merlin, Arthur finally found someone who not only complemented him well, but also helped him shake his fear of not only terrible, but moderately terrible horror movies. Though he still had some issues with a lot of them, and there was that one slip up where Merlin put in something a lot worse than he'd remembered (Arthur made sure Merlin paid the "you-are-now-my-living-and-breathing-teddy-bear" toll), Arthur was doing better than ever. In turn, in the last six months with Arthur, Merlin had mostly overcome his anxiety regarding spiders. A few weeks prior, he had even allowed Terry to come home with Arthur and back to the flat. While the brunet still refused to so much as touch him or get within a five foot radius of the terrarium, he accepted the tarantula's presence with wariness (with only occasional fretting about whether or not the arachnid could escape). Regardless, Arthur was proud of him. He went from crummy movies to documentaries to Arthur's constant cellphone pics to allowing one in the flat in five months. Sooner or later, he'd come to terms with Terry altogether, and Arthur hoped he could soon show Merlin just how friendly a spider Terry was.

Merlin walked back into the room slowly, clearly hiding something behind his back and out Arthur's line of sight. Approaching his boyfriend, Merlin deftly dropped to one knee before him on the couch. "Arthur Pendragon—"

"Woah, woah, woah, Merlin, don't you think this is a little fast? It's only been—"

The brunet rolled his eyes. "Shut up you egg and let me finish." Merlin cleared his throat as Arthur sighed. "Now, I, Merlin Emrys, after much tribulation, bequeath you, Arthur Pendragon, with a sword fit for a king." He extended his arms above his head, which was bowed low in mock reverence, palms proffering what appeared to be a blood-stained machete. As Arthur began to grab it, Merlin elaborated, "Okay, it's really a paper mache machete, but I thought—"

"Wait, paper mache?" Arthur asked, picking up the machete. "You made this out of paper mache?"

"I mean, yeah, I made it. Some paint helped, too, but I thought—"

Arthur carefully lifted his surprise and carefully examined the paint job. If he wasn't physically holding the thing and didn't know what it was made of (and were at a relatively short, but indiscriminate distance), he might have been convinced that it was the real deal. "This is amazing, Merlin, I didn't know you could make something like this."

Merlin sighed and shook his head, looking up at Arthur from the floor, who was still toying around with his new gift. "Have you forgotten? I teach second graders. I'm a pro at paper mache. Anyway, I thought you might like it as part of a costume? I know you never really celebrated before – let alone dressed up – but I thought since I forced you to sit through all these Friday the 13ths that you could dress up as Jason when we go to Ealdor for Halloween? I've got the other stuff, too, if you'd like."

"I, uh, sure, I guess?" Arthur shrugged, toying with the fake machete. "Wait, what are you going to be then?"

"Brilliant!" Merlin slapped both his hands on the blond's knees. "And I wasn't planning on showing you until we got there, but I kind of have to get it into the car and you'd have to see it anyway…Give me a second." Pulling himself up using Arthur as a solid base, Merlin scampered back in the direction of the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

Chuckling, Arthur placed the fake blade on the coffee table in front of him, stood, and walked to the Merlin's bedroom door. Knocking, he teased, "So is this why you haven't let me in here for the last two weeks?"

"Uh huh!" Merlin called from the other side of the door.

"I thought you'd gone and abandoned me for some sex slave you'd kept tied to the bed," Arthur laughed as he leaned against the wall.

There was a thump against wood, and Merlin swore. "Urk, now why would I have gone and done that? That's what I have you for. Besides, having to keep him tied to the bed all the time? Such a bore. Not nearly versatile enough. That and I think all the toys are at yours."

"You've got to be joking, Merlin. You've nothing over here? You know, all work and no play makes Merlin a dull boy."

"You can't see me right now, but I can guarantee my smile is cracking my face in half with pride, Mr. Pendragon. And no play? There's always yours. And uh, you know, the kids. They give me quite the run around. I know this may be news to you," Merlin began with his slow, powdered voice employed only when he thought Arthur was being a bit daft. "But I'll have you know that one doesn't become a paper mache master by doing their tax returns."

As Arthur chuckled and leaned against the wall, he heard another thud from the room, followed shortly by a sharp yelp. "Merlin are you getting into a costume or a clusterfuck? And if you're dressing up as a sexy nurse or something, you'd better rethink those tights. You're not giving a credit to your pretend profession with all those bruises I know you're getting."

"Oh but doctor!" Merlin cried in his highest, most ridiculous falsetto before he bit back a grin and continued with his deepest monotone, "Won't you kiss it better?"

The blond slid down the wall, laughing heartily. "Oh my god, you're such a freak."

"You know it, and you love it. Close your eyes and turn around. Trust me, this will wow you. I'm much sexier than any sexy nurse you've ever seen."

"I don't know, Merlin. I've been to a lot of frat parties," Arthur called as he swiveled on his heel and turned to face the wall opposite, decorated with framed children's drawings and paintings, some of which addressed "Mr. Emrys" in oversized, occasionally stuttered handwriting that was still leagues neater than that of most of the adults Arthur knew who tried to pass their unintelligible scrawl off as written communication. Arthur's eyes settled on a surprisingly aesthetically pleasing crayon drawing of a gold dragon that made a heavy-handed—and all the more endearing for it—attempt at shading with a brown crayon. He scanned over a bunch of pictures that mimicked fairy tales before encountering one that depicted an aquarium full of colorful fish, which were composed by the union of triangles and ovals, and what he could only assume was a shark, whose exaggerated open-mouthed, blue-outlined jagged jaws extended towards an unsuspecting, smiling violet victim.

Arthur could hear Merlin approach the bedroom door as several objects clattered the the floor, knocking against the wood and plaster upon their descent. "Arthur your eyes better be closed!"

"What, so I can't see whatever disaster you've caused in there?" Arthur snorted, turning his attention to a few landscape watercolors that were so damp upon conception that even the compressing frames couldn't smooth out their waves. "And no, I'm admiring your students' artwork over here!"

Merlin turned the doorknob and cracked the door open a hair. "Prove it. Tell me about one."

The blond scanned across the dozens of pictures before settling on one with a non-generic name. "Matilda. A little girl named Matilda painted you a very lovely blue...dog?"

"It's a horse, but I suppose you pass the test." Merlin opened the door and scuttled out sideways, pulling in as much of his costume as he could manage in the cramped hallway. "Okay, okay, you can turn around."

To humor his boyfriend, Arthur closed his eyes before turning around and waited for exasperated permission to open them before doing so. Arthur stared at his boyfriend a solid five seconds before laughing and shaking his head. Here was Merlin, squished into a hilariously terrible spider costume, complete with two bulbous sections that were supposed to be a spider's body and eight protruding legs (half of which were Merlin's own limbs—half of which were improperly sticking out of the abdomen). "Oh my god, Merlin, what did you even use for the material?" Arthur asked, pointing at the brown, gaudy, shaggy material that comprised the entire costume.

Merlin hummed and smiled, giving one of his legs an appraising, self-admiring stroke. "You remember that furniture store that recently went out of business?" Merlin asked with an eyebrow quirked, waiting for Arthur's quick nod of the head before continuing, "Well, they had a ridiculous amount of these awful shaggy bath mats..."

"You mean like the kind you have in your bathroom? The blue one?" the blond interrupted.

"Yes! Exactly like that one. Only that one is teal..." Merlin ignored Arthur's eye roll. "Anyway, so they just had a ton of these things," Merlin said as he splayed his hands wide apart to indicate the thick stack he encountered that day, "and they were only a couple of dollars each...And it just, I just, I couldn't help it. I had to, Arthur."

Arthur laughed harder as he reached out and stroked the soft material along Merlin's chest. "So you make a machete out of paper and anatomically incorrect spider costumes out of bath mats in your free time. Is there anything else I should know about you, Merlin?"

"Anatomically incorrect? I'll have you know I did my research!* This, for example," Merlin began as he lifted his left arm, "is the Creepy Leg. Right below it? The Lung Snatcher. Over here..." Merlin lowered his left and brandished his right as he made a 'blade' out of his hand. "This, now this right here is my Heart Piercer!" He jabbed in Arthur's direction before dissolving into laughter.

Sucking in a breath, Arthur tried to maintain his composure amidst the absurdity. "What's that one called?" He asked, pointing to Merlin's left leg.

"Leg Number Eight," Merlin returned between laughs.

"And that one?" the blond pointed to the right this time.

"That's my Dancing Leg!" Merlin broke into a lame jig, his fake limbs slapping against the wall with every ill-advised move.

Arthur finally lost it with a snort followed by peals of laughter. "Remind me to never take you anywhere ever," he teased.

"Why? Because I'll totally upstage you with my rad moves?" He continued dancing, using one of this bath mat upholstered limbs as a dance partner.

Arthur laughed and shot back, "No, because others would try to take you home."

"You, Mr. Pendragon, are a liar," Merlin tsked, raising an eyebrow as he lazily waggled his finger. "But you're a sweet one, so I suppose I can forgive you." Accidentally slapping Arthur with no fewer than two of the bathmat-shrouded limbs, the brunet leaned in and draped his arms over his boyfriends shoulders, resting his forehead against Arthur's own.

Arthur ran hands down Merlin's shaggy new bum, resting his hands just at the top of the exaggerated curve. "You know you just hit me like three times, right?"

"I know." Arthur felt Merlin's forehead slide up as his eyes undoubtedly lit to match that dumb smirk he had on his face.

"And that I really can't see you from this close. You make me cross-eyed."

"It's not my fault you don't wear your unbearably attractive glasses." His forehead slid back down as his mouth formed his typical pout.

Blinking away the vague multiplicity of pasty, black-mop-topped blobs that constituted his boyfriend, Arthur asked, "You think you could do this if I were wearing them?"

"Arthur, look at what I'm wearing and reevaluate your response," Merlin said as he waggled a little bit in his obnoxious costume, one leg lightly papping Arthur on the side of the face.

The blond grabbed the leg, eased himself out of Merlin's grasp, and retorted, "Merlin, it's not like you've got these hairy legs on your face."

Merlin brushed his hand against the coarse curve of Arthur's jaw and swished his mouth back and forth before saying, "I suppose not, but you do. Your stubble's prickly. And glasses or not, we'd totally manage. Might smudge them up some and try to convince you it was literally getting steamy in here though."

"Now who's the liar?" Arthur teased, shaking his head lightly.

Merlin grabbed his fake legs and returned, "Irrelevant. Anyway, mister, we've got a long trip tomorrow, and I do not believe either of us have packed."

"You would be correct," Arthur laughed. He had intended on packing the night before, but instead wound up falling asleep on his half-folded clothes that eventually mussed to form a more ideal napping surface as his night's thrashings ensued.

The two said their good nights, and Arthur returned to his own room to face the disorganized pile of clothing he had left there this morning when he realized he had slept through the alarm and was almost late to work.

With a sigh, Merlin returned to his own bedroom, which was freshly carpeted in shredded newspapers, some loose yellow-topped quilting pins that he kept discovering (regrettably with his foot opposed to his eyes), and some stray bathmat remnants, which ranged from entire, usable chunks to the disgustingly awful shredded fibers that clung to his actual carpeting. Shrugging out of his costume, Merlin let it sit in an unceremonious heap by his dresser as he examined his equally disastrous bed. Covered in more stray material on top of his unmade bedding, the bed also was home to a few loose thread spools that rolled unchecked, a hot glue gun that had adhered to his pillow, a couple of those infernal pins that made Merlin doubt his capacity to ever learn his lesson, and all the items that he had pulled out with the intent to pack.

Groaning, the brunet Godzilla-ed through his mess to reach his forlorn duffel bag that was half-mashed between his bed and nightstand on the opposite side of the room. This was going to be a long night.

After stuffing his toiletry bag into his small, red, carry-on suitcase, Arthur rolled it to the door and propped it up next to the front door of his apartment. As he backed away with his eyes on the suitcase, arms straight in front of him with hands splayed, he mouthed "stay" over and over to the case that looked like it would totter over with its unbalanced distribution. Once he had reached a good ten feet away (and backed into his couch), Arthur decided it was time to turn around, let the suitcase fall if it so desired, and go to bed.

Yawning, he stumbled into his bathroom and lazily brushed his teeth, blinking hard at his tired expression in the mirror. It was midnight, a couple hours later than he usually fell asleep, and he had gone to work early this morning to make sure everything was sured up for the next few days during his absence. After spitting, Arthur slipped out of his shirt and pants and left them in a pile on the floor. He set the alarm on his phone and fell into bed, thankful for the fact that he could sleep in the car.

Not two hours later, Arthur startled awake to the sound of something crashing in his living room. Swearing at his suitcase, Arthur rolled over and started pulling a pillow over his head when he heard another set of swears to match his own. "Merlin, dammit," he mumbled, remembering the key he had given him a few months back, and pulled the pillow fully over his head.

When his door creaked open, Arthur remained where he was and listened to the other man clumsily strip (an activity in which he still lacked any remote dexterity). Merlin finally slid into bed, marking the occasion by curling up to Arthur's back and pressing his the tops of his cold feet against Arthur's bare calves. "Sorry I woke you, can I sleep here tonight?" Merlin whispered into Arthur's hair.

"It's not like I'm going to kick you out now...Cold feet or not...How'd you know I was awake?" he asked, voice thick with sleep.

There was a slight chuckle before a quick, "You snore."

"Do not," Arthur mumbled more to the pillow than Merlin.

"Do so...And I noticed your luggage by the door..." Merlin trailed off, getting sleepy himself.

Slightly readjusting his position, Arthur replied, "By 'I noticed' you mean 'became very acquainted with as I fell all over it'."

"Hey, I fell alongside it, for your information. We fell in tandem. It was a group effort." He snaked his arm around Arthur's middle and snuggled into the blond's shoulder blade.

"Yeah? Well I hope you put it back where it belongs because I'm going on this trip to my boyfriend's hometown to meet his mother tomorrow morning."

Merlin smiled. "Your boyfriend? Sounds nice. I'll make sure to not tell him about this then."

"Good. Wouldn't want that. Why you in here anyway?" Arthur asked. Slipping into his room in the middle of the night wasn't exactly usual Merlin behavior. Normally, they slept around the same time and spent the night in whichever apartment they were currently occupying, together or not.

"Mm," Merlin hummed, "Bed was mess, got a pin stuck in my thigh, had enough. Wanted to sleep in real bed before going home tomorrow." He remembered his lumpy, full-sized bed in his old room in Ealdor. Here was much more comfortable and significantly less likely to bear embarrassing sheets from his childhood. Hopefully his mother had upgraded the sheets in the least.

Arthur tsked, "A pin? Really? Merlin."

"Yeah, yeah, I know...G'night prat," Merlin mumbled.

"Night pincushion." In his sleepy state, Arthur was actually proud at himself for that one.

Merlin rubbed the sore spot on the back of his left thigh, which was now covered in a tiny spaceship-patterned bandaid, and bristled, "Not funny."

"Hilarious," Arthur chuckled.

"Shut up," Merlin returned as sleep started to claim him.

"Fine. Night, Merlin," Arthur said as he drifted off as well.

End of Chapter One

* I don't know who made the thing, but while I was googling spider anatomy, this picture titled "KNOW YOUR ENEMY: Spider Anatomy" popped up and made me laugh. I stole this from that. Have a gander, it's hilarious.

A/n: I know, horribly out-of-season Halloween fic. Hopefully you guys like it all the same haha. Make sure to put me on your alert list if you want to see more! Oh, and please please please drop a review (about my writing style, the content, the question I'm about to ask you, whatever). I was wondering if you guys wanted to see my horribly out-of-season Christmas fic after this as well, or if I should save it for the actual season.

I don't know when I will post chapter two, but I'll try to make it soon.

Next Time: Hunith, the loving mother; Mordred, the adorable Arthur-loathing child; and Will, the terrible shart goblin.

~gecko