Chapter Text
“Let me ask you one more time. Where are the fusion blueprints?” Morgause’s voice is smooth and sweet, unlike the hands that had manhandled him into the chair and bound him tightly. After Morgause had caught him in Cenred’s suite, she had signaled two of her men. They had stuffed him in a car, bound and blindfolded, and taken to … well, here.
Merlin tries to check the give of the ropes, but only manages to chafe his wrists.
“Fusion what?” When in trouble, pretend to be stupid. That is Merlin’s motto. Strangely, it always works. There’s something about his face; it makes people think he’s an imbecile with little effort on Merlin’s part.
“Don’t try to act dumb. You are terrible at acting.” She shakes her head, swaying her beautiful blond curls. It ought to be a pretty image, but everything about Morgause exudes an aura of danger. Yes. Even her hair. “I want those blueprints back. I had plans for it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Merlin cries out, “I am just Arthur’s boyfriend. I came here to have fun.”
“Are you now…” She smiles, and it’s a little bit terrifying. Merlin tries not to cower.
“Yes. Yes I am. Please let me go.”
“Hmm. You might be his boyfriend, but you are also a double PhD holder. Are you not?”
Merlin gapes, which makes Morgause laugh.
“I do research on all of my guests.”
“But Cenred…”
“Cenred has his virtues. Wisdom isn’t one of it. Now, will you tell me where the fusion data is? Or do you want to lose a few teeth?”
Stall her. That’s all Merlin can think of. Arthur will probably be looking for him. He just needs to stall her until he gets here.
“I could do with losing a few. Mum always said I have too many.” Merlin grins, and is rewarded by a punch to his face.
He can feel blood in his mouth, which, gross! His jaw aches, but he manages to put on a cheeky smile anyway, “My dentist would thank you for this,” he tells the man who punched him very sincerely. He looks like he bit a lemon.
“Enough. You will tell me about the location of the data.”
“Maybe I will, if you tell me what you want to do with it.” Merlin tries his bonds again, seeing if he can free himself, but there is no give. He just has to bide time then, and possibly also collect evidence. He taps his heel on the ground, activating the recorder.
“Really? You want me to admit to my crimes?” Morgause chuckles.
“Why? Have you committed any?”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“Come on. You’re going to kill me anyway.” Morgause doesn’t even try to deny that, “I have seen enough films to know.” The Bond girls always die. Bloody typical.
“That is true, but you get to choose between a quick painless one, and a long, painful one.” The man standing on his side waves a knife.
“The least you can give me the satisfaction of knowing what I am dying for.” Merlin tries to shrug in his bonds, trying to look nonchalant.
Morgause nods at one of the goons and he punches him in the stomach, making him cry out. This was totally unnecessary.
“You don’t get to make demands of me,” Morgause threatens.
“I am just requesting. So this fusion data right?” He waits for her to nod. “How did you find it?”
Another punch, another doubling over later, Merlin still looks at her expectedly. She huffs. “I acquired it.”
“Legally?”
She downright laughs at this.
“I thought Cenred was the master criminal.”
“Cenred,” she snarls, “is just a puppet. People take a King more seriously. Which is all the better for me. Working from the shadows is so much easier.”
“You aren’t in the shadows now.” That makes one of his torturers sock him in his face again. If he survives this, he is going to have one hell of a black eye.
Where the hell is Arthur?
“That’s because you forced my hand. But don’t worry. You won’t live to tell a soul.”
Merlin tries to look innocent at that, but she picks up on it. “Oh you’re hoping the Pendragon boy will come to your rescue. Don’t hurt your head thinking about things like that. Once I am done with you, I am going to have fun breaking him too, enjoy ripping him into pieces. For making me go through so much trouble.”
Merlin doesn’t want to give up his game, but her cockiness bothers him so much. There was only one blond who was allowed to be such an arrogant prat. “You can’t touch him,” he snarls.
“Can’t I?”
If Merlin keeps getting hit like that, Arthur’s accusation of him being brain damaged may start having some weight. Dammit. What was taking the clotpole so long? They had contingency for things like that. If Arthur has forgotten about the blood tracker, and gets him killed, Merlin swears he will come back as ghost to exact revenge.
“Now, about that data…”
She comes closer now, looming threateningly.
“What will you do with it?”
“You know what I will do with it Merlin. Don’t act like you don’t understand how this works.” Merlin shakes his head. He doesn’t even have to pretend to be scared. He is. He might not be a field agent but he has a duty towards his country. “What would anyone do with something that is very valuable, and useless to them?”
“You’re going to sell it.”
“I am. And I have a buyer who is supposed to meet me today. So I am getting very impatient right about now. Where. Are. My. Blueprints?” She snatches a knife from one of her men, and Merlin is suddenly more afraid of her than he ever was of the big thugs. She looks like killing him would give her immense pleasure.
“Surely you have some copy of it?” Merlin hazards. She looks murderous. “Digital?”
“You know what? I don’t really think you know. I think you’re just a pawn. And I should stop wasting my time with you, and look for your precious lover instead.”
She bends, her face blurring in front of Merlin’s eyes- whether it’s because of the repeated punches or proximity, Merlin isn’t sure.
“So tell me Merlin, why should I keep you alive?”
Merlin really wishes he had thought of an answer for this beforehand, but he wasn’t expecting a situation like this. “Uhhh,” is all he manages to say.
“That’s what I thought.” Morgause nods, smug. She stands back up and takes out a gun from her purse, pointing it at Merlin’s head.
So this is it. Serves him right for joking about not surviving at the beginning of the mission. At least the documents are destroyed, and nobody would be able to find them. And if Arthur finds his body, maybe he can find the recording and the pictures too. The heel recorder is pretty standard for MI-6. Merlin tries not to feel too bad about dying.
“You have till the count of three to change your mind,” Merlin tries to meet his death with courage, holding his breath. “Three…”
His eyes are closed, waiting for the countdown, but a few seconds pass and nothing changes. Slowly, he opens his eyes, wondering why Morgause was taking forever between the counts. His eyes widen when he sees her collapsed on the ground, her hair fanning her face. Merlin looks around, but both of his torturers are also unconscious.
He looks at the doorway, and sighs in relief when he sees Arthur strutting inside, holding a gun. Finally.
“You sure did take your time.” Merlin feels angry at the way his voice shakes.
“Are you okay?” Arthur rushes towards him, picking the knife from the ground to cut the ropes binding him.
“Did you kill them? That’s the queen of Esseter. We cannot do that!” Merlin is slightly hysterical, but he was sure he was going to die, so he is allowed.
“I didn’t kill them Merlin. What do you take me for? That was a tranquilizer.”
“Oh.”
The ropes fall away, and Arthur steps back, looking at him. Merlin still feels like he is bound, and has no idea how to make his limbs co-operate.
“Can you stand?”
“Of course I can.” But he doesn’t make an attempt to get up, his vision swimming, the adrenaline leaving his body. Arthur waits for him to orient himself.
“It’s quite different to be in one of these situation than listening to them over the com, isn’t it.” Merlin muses.
“I am sorry.” Arthur looks so miserably guilty that Merlin feels like he needs to cuff him on the head. But for that, he has to get up.
“Don’t be a cabbagehead.” He tries to pull himself up. Arthur offers his hand which he ignores.
“Merlin, you’re hurt and bleeding. I need to know if you are injured seriously.”
“No. What you need to know is that I have recorded a confession from Morgause. We can hand it over to Interpol and get the hell out of here.” He stands up and stumbles. Arthur grabs his arm, giving unneeded support.
“Merlin,” he implores.
“I am fine Arthur.” Merlin glares, and takes a step, wrenching his arm free from Arthur’s grasp.
Which, of course, is when his head spins, and his knees give out. The last thing he remembers is Arthur shouting his name, and his arms catching him before the darkness takes over.