Chapter 1

Arthur sat curled on the cement, slowly rubbing circles into his temples.

God, why did this have to happen?

He should have known better than to think they could catch a break. He had thought – he had prayed – that just this once, everything could be different.

But the world never truly lets go of its favourite chess pieces, and though he had not worn a crown in centuries, he would always be a king.

He curled a hand through his hair, tugging against his scalp in frustration.

A soft whimper drew his attention to a shadow curled on the floor. Arthur's eyes snapped to the prone figure, his breath hitching.

"Merlin?"

The shadow shifted, and a scruffy head of raven hair twisted into view.

"Arthur?" whispered the fallen man, blinking in the too-bright light.

"I'm here Merlin. God, you're awake. Finally," Arthur's words came too fast, his concern and relief obliterating his usually impeccable speech. He stretched himself towards his friend, but a harsh rattle reminded him of the cuffs cutting deeply into his arms, keeping him at the other end of the room.

Merlin blinked, rising slowly from his position on the floor. He stared owlishly around the room, taking in the dirty grey walls, the bare concrete floor. His gaze finally rested on Arthur, and he pitched forward, only to be brought up short by an identical set of cuffs holding him back.

"What's going on?" he said, his voice rising in pitch as confusion started giving way to panic. "Arthur?"

"Merlin, it's okay," said Arthur, straining forward. "I promise you, it's going to be … Look at me!" he cut himself off as Merlin's eyes jittered over the room in distress. The man's gaze snapped back to him. "Whatever happens, I'm going to protect you. You'll be okay, you understand?"

Merlin stared at him, taking deep breaths and desperately scrabbling for his bearings.

"But, Arthur?" he said, shaking his head a little to clear it. "What happened?"

Arthur sighed. "Morgana happened."

There really was a kind of artistry in making the perfect coffee. Not that Merlin himself was any good at it, but he'd gorged himself on enough caffeinated drinks in his time to adopt an air of expertise on the subject. At least, he spent a lot of time criticising the charlatanistic attempts of the local cafés in his little corner of London. These days, there were only two coffee shops he deemed worthy of his patronage, and his favourite, The Lady Cappuccino, had become somewhat of a camping ground during his first two years at university. In fact, most days he could be found tucked into a corner, sequestered in a fortress of books and nursing a mug that could probably fit over his head if it weren't for his prominent ears.

It was a day like any other, with a soft murmur blanketing The Lady Cappuccino in cosy conversation, when Merlin's perfectly constructed study nook was upended by a high-heeled harpy on a mobile.

"Well, I don't see how that – Woah!"

Merlin shoved his chair back just as five and a half feet of agitated female ploughed into his table.

"Hey!" he shouted, grabbing the table as it swayed in place. A tower of books tottered near the edge, and he slammed a hand down on it before it could fall on top of the prone woman.

"Dammit!" swore the lady, grabbing the edge of the table to hoist herself up. She glared over the pile of fallen papers and books, searching for her dropped phone. Merlin stared at her, a little worried that if he drew her attention she might turn her ire on him and cause him to combust. With a short ha! of angry triumph she snatched up the phone, slamming it back over her ear.

"Don't worry, I'm… for fuck's sake Arthur, are you still talking?" she bit out, exasperation dripping from every syllable. Merlin coughed, leaning over to gather his abused papers. The lady's eyes flashed toward him, and he stilled.

"Never mind, we'll talk about it later," she snapped into the phone. "Yes we can, it's not that urgent. You're just being a panicky little schoolgirl, now shut up."

And she disconnected the phone with a decisive jab.

Merlin raised an eyebrow at her as she turned to him, dusting herself off.

"My apologies," she said, in a clipped tone. Merlin tried not to snicker at her painstakingly upright manner.

"It's okay," he said, grabbing a few papers from the floor.

The lady pursed her lips. "Hardly," she sniped, bending to pick up the books at her feet. "It seems like you've got half the lost library of Alexandria here."

Merlin shrugged. "I'm thorough."

"I'll say," she said, stacking a few more books on the table. "I know paralegals who would faint at the idea of this much research."

Merlin looked at the wobbling stacks on his table and the carpet of scribbled notes, and couldn't help but smirk a little.

"Go hard or go home," he said, quirking an eyebrow.

The woman looked at him in surprise, before a grin stole its way across her features.

"Well said," she chuckled. "Nothing's worth doing half-way."

"I guess that explains the heels then," said Merlin, grimacing as he took in her eight-inch stilettos.

The lady's face contorted in anguish as she looked down at her shoes. So far she'd been precariously balancing on one foot to avoid the snapped heal on her right.
"And they were so beautiful too," she lamented, hopping into a seat so she could un-cinch her foot. "That's why I tripped into you, I'm afraid. Stupid things could have held out a little longer."

"Maybe if you bought you shoes for walking instead of skewering rogue hobbits it wouldn't happen," quipped Merlin, earning a glare.

"If a woman can't strap weaponised shoes to her feet and make everyone in the near vicinity feel inadequate, then what's the point in life?"

Merlin cocked his head to the side.

"You're a little scary, you know that?"

The lady gave him her first genuine smile.

"Absolutely."

She held out a hand.

"Morgana Prescott. It's lovely to meet you."

Merlin blinked at Arthur from across the room.

"Morgana? What did Morgana do?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for what to say.

"She… she met someone bad…" he said, his throat dry. "Something happened… but it wasn't supposed to! I kept her safe. I did! She was never supposed to remember… but she knows… God, everything that happened…"

"Arthur, you're not making sense," Merlin interrupted. "What did she remember? Who did she meet?"

Arthur closed his eyes in anguish.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Morgana, disdainfully. "You actually like Frankenstein over Dracula?"

"I'm a literature major, I'm obliged to go with the provincial text!" said Merlin, rolling his eyes. "Besides, do you even realise how illogical Dracula is? For god's sake, Van Helsing, you know the bitch is a vampire! Stake her already! But no, let's let her eat a few more kids so her husband can come home and get his 'closure'." Merlin threw his hands up at the end. "'Cause, you know, that's not likely to cause problems at all."

"What about the foreshadowing all through Frankenstein? 'Oh! I learned so much and the world is so beautiful! But we're all gonna die! I love my family so much! Look at the pretty mountains! But life is a whirlpool of despair!' Blah blah blah, inevitable damnation. Good thing we weren't trying to sustain tension here."

"That is making a point about the dangers of scientific endeavour without conscience and the inevitability of – oh, screw that. At least Shelley knew how to pace a narrative. After five chapters of the Hardy Boys searching for Dracula while everyone with two brain cells knows he's eating their lady friend I just wanted to throw the book out a window."

Morgana sneered her I-am-right-and-you-are-a-philistine sneer and Merlin folded his arms in challenge. Both were gearing up to prove the other utterly deficient when an obnoxiously chirpy beep sounded from Morgana's pocket.

"Oh, bugger," she said, clawing it out of her pants. "This isn't over!" she said pointing a perfectly manicured nail at Merlin. He smirked in response.

"Morgana Prescott," said Morgana, decidedly less impassioned on the phone. "Oh, right. I forgot we were going to meet, sorry… No, I'm in town anyway, I came to see a friend… No, none of the ones you know, and you need to stop calling them she-devils… Because if they hear you they may actually try to chop off your bollocks… Are you kidding? I'll hand them the knife… Oh, stop acting tough, we both know you're terrified… Look, I'm at The Lady Cappuccino, how about you meet me here and we can head off together… No, he won't mind. He's a literature major with no life. You'll be the second person he's talked to all month. See you soo – ah!" Morgana promptly ended the call as a shower of sugar packets hit her in the face.

"You know," said Merlin icily, "I do actually have a life outside of you, and most of my other friends aren't heartless banshees with terrible taste in literature."

Morgana delicately brushed the last of the packets off her skirt. "I'm sure you do." She leant forward with a look of innocence. "Are they in the room with us now?"

Merlin leant back in the seat, looking petulant. "Perhaps they're the real ones and you're the hallucination. It would explain how you can drink triple-shot espressos without vibrating through the seat."

Morgana smirked. "Science does seem to tremble at the scale of my sheer force of amazing."

Merlin shook his head, snickering.

"So," he said, changing the subject, "judging by the combination of affection and brutal disdain, that was Arthur?"

Morgana smiled. "We were supposed to meet for dinner today. I completely forgot."

"I have that effect on the ladies."

"So he's going to meet us here," she continued, talking over him. "I hope that's okay."

"Sure," shrugged Merlin. "About time I met your infamous younger brother. Though apparently he's heard nothing about me. Why, not Morgie, dear? Are you ashamed of our torrid affair?"

"Not ashamed, just greedily keeping you to myself," she grinned, and her eyes softened. "Arthur's very protective. He always has been. And he always presses me to be honest with him about my feelings. I know it's because he cares, but it's a bit too intense. Sometimes I need to step back."

Merlin nodded. "That's family, I guess."

Morgana shook her head with a wry grin. "The best kind."

The soft swish of the door alerted them to a new arrival, and Morgana signalled to the man over Merlin's shoulder.

"Over here."

Merlin cricked his neck, preparing to meet the notorious brother.

"Bloody hell, Morgana, would it kill you to keep a diary or something?" the voice was deep, and pleasantly smooth.

"I do, for the important things, like work and manicures. You don't count."

"Charming," said Arthur, pulling up a seat. "So this is your friend?" He turned to look at Merlin and froze, his cheeks instantly paling.

"Yes," said Morgana, not noticing her brother's behaviour. "This is Merlin. I promise he's not as destitute as his unwashed appearance might suggest."

Arthur huffed a harsh laugh, quickly getting his breathing back under control.

Merlin stared at him.

"Are you okay?"

Morgana glanced at her brother, finally noticing his shaken appearance.

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, then gave a smile that was very clearly forced.

"I'm fine. Of course. Sorry, it's been a long day."

"Are you sure that's it?" said Morgana, shirking her ice-lady persona for a moment.

Arthur gave a slightly hysterical giggle and glanced between Merlin and Morgana, shaking his head.

"It's nothing, Morgana. No need to worry," he ran his fingers through his hair, and in a moment was once again the composed, charming young man that Merlin had expected.

"Dreadfully sorry, my friend," he said with a surprisingly attractive half-smile. "I should be careful not to frighten off anyone brave enough to be friends with my sister."

Merlin looked to Morgana, who frowned, but gestured for him to continue anyway. He turned his gaze towards the handsome newcomer and dismissed his worries.

"If she hasn't sent me packing yet I doubt you could scare me off," he said, in his usual Merlin tone: one part mischief, two parts challenge.

A grin slowly stole its way across Arthur's face. "I'm glad. Maybe she'll hold onto you yet."

Merlin smiled, and told himself he had imagined the watery sheen in Arthur's eyes.

A/N: Hello! So, when I first started writing this it was going to be a quick little reincarnation/lost memory fic. It has since morphed into a monstrosity that won't leave me alone.

All the details will become clear over the course of the fic, which I'm expecting to hit about 40 000 words, judging by where I am now, writing the climax.

Feedback is very much appreciated, and necessary if I'm going to get this right, so let me know what you think!

Title comes from William Blake's "The Auguries of Innocence".