Chapter Text
He didn’t have to wait very long for his next fateful meeting with his eccentric neighbor. It seemed, after weeks of Arthur trying to track him down, that the roles had been reversed, and somehow their brief conversation in the mail room had sparked some innate desire in the other to seek him out. Or, something along those lines, he could only assume as he spotted Merlin right as he walked into the lobby, fresh off the train and ready to do absolutely nothing after work. The man was standing by the elevators, his eyes weaving in and out of the other residents coming home. His hair was sticking up a little around his ears, and he was sort of frowning at his hands in the pockets of a big, ugly green jumper.
“Arthur!” He greeted, brightly, as if they were old friends. He moved towards him quickly, ducking past the rush of commuters desperate to get back to their own flats.
“Merlin,” He managed, after a pause, where the man grabbed his arm and began to lead him further into the room. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going to storage,” He announced, delighted. Arthur couldn’t see his face, but he imagined the curve of mischief in his smile, and it made him bite his tongue. “I need your help.”
Arthur blankly followed him down the steps, vaguely aware that he had since let go of his forearm. “Do you need to move something?” He stopped on a landing, watching Merlin go a few more steps before turning back to him, his hair falling into his eyes. He was wearing slippers, Arthur noticed, the pink clashing oddly with his shirt. “You can ask the landlord for help if you want to move anything big upstairs,”
“No no, nothing like that,” He waved his hand around as if shooing away the mere implication. He turned, continuing down the steps. “I need to destroy something,” He called, from over his shoulder.
“Destroy?” Arthur’s eyebrows shot up towards his hairline. He jogged to catch up to the other, catching himself on the railing to make sure he didn’t trip. “What the hell are you destroying?” He asked, alarmed, and then, as an afterthought, “Why do you need my help?”
They had reached the bottom floor, a single door to their left indicating their destination. It was tall and metal, a paper taped to it with hours in which they were allowed down there, and what number to call for movers. Merlin didn’t seem at all bothered by the much easier solution of calling a trash company, or even going to an undisclosed location to burn something.
“There’s a chest down here, one that’s been causing mayhem for anyone trying to get to their things,” He explained, still entirely pleasant and unaware of the look he was receiving at the back of his head.
Arthur chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment, looking Merlin up and down, trying to find the punchline. “How does a chest cause mayhem?” He asked, cautiously.
The other man looked at him, hard. “It has a goblin in it, of course,” He rolled his eyes, as if Arthur was stupid.
Oh, he realized, faintly, he’s fucking crazy. “Right,” He said, after it seemed like one of them should say something. “Well, I’m going to be going, now.”
A hand shot out, quick, grabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt, bringing him solidly down next to him, right in front of the door. Merlin’s eyes were bright, still, but intense. Arthur could practically feel the waves rolling behind them, and his arm hairs stood on edge. “I need your help.” The man insisted, and he swallowed roughly, wondering just how dangerous it would be to indulge his delusions. Or if it would be more dangerous to try and outrun him.
He ended up not having to make the decision, as Merlin took his silence as cooperation, smiling and opening the door, dragging him into the dusty space.
“Um,” Arthur said, as the entrance shut behind him, gazing at the rows of units, marked with lines of wired fence, each having their own sign and lock. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which calmed Arthur a little, even if the lights did flicker a little. “So…goblin hunting, is it a hobby of yours?” He tried to force the words out with as little sarcasm as possible, feeling silly for doing so immediately afterwards.
The other man didn’t notice, or simply didn’t care. He threw a look over his shoulder, pulling a torch out of nowhere, hitting it once with the back of his palm and shining it into the walkway. “Kind of,” He said, when Arthur looked back at him blankly for a few moments, trying not to bolt. “It’s all just maintenance.”
“Maintenance?” He asked, moving forward as Merlin did, vaguely aware that he had let go of him. Whatever fantasy he was living in, it had layers to it, and he couldn’t help the curiosity that bled into his stomach.
“Yeah,” Merlin spoke, absentmindedly, as he examined each unit, flashing the light back and forth before deeming it safe of ‘goblins’. “The veil isn’t as strong as it used to be. I think it never really had to be strong, necessarily, at least not until technology became more of a thing. People start scrutinizing every magical thing, and if it's not scientific, it’s not believable,” He sort of huffed, an annoyed type of exhalation, and he switched the hand he was holding the light with. “The veil sorta slips up, sometimes, trying to keep everything that people nowadays deem ‘supernatural’ or ‘fantastical’ inside. It’s a tough job, and I try my best to smooth some of the cracks when I can. I mean, I’m just one guy, but the Druids aren’t what they used to be, and most modern magicians are absolute mentals.”
Arthur followed about half of what he was saying, nodding along seriously, even when Merlin had his back turned. “So you catch the anomalies, or something?”
“Yeah,” Merlin agreed, making a general motion with his free hand, waving it around a little. “Sort of. There isn’t really a good name for it, so I’ve been calling it ‘maintenance’. It sounds more professional,” At the last part, he looked almost uncertain, glancing back at Arthur as if waiting for approval.
He felt himself nodding, sincerely. “Absolutely,” The man brightened once more, giving him an odd little smile, pleased with himself and the response Arthur had given to him.
They wandered around for a couple of minutes, and the longer he listened to the man ramble, the more he began to relax. It seemed his fantasy was just that: completely imagined. There was no sign of a mischievous chest, or anything other than the resident’s junk, discarded and forgotten in their units. It was almost fun—now that the tight squeeze of nerves in his chest had eased—running around and playing along with whatever Merlin told him, as if it was all one big game of pretend.
It was like a game he used to play with his sister, hunting monsters and ghosts that they created, using sticks and umbrellas as swords and stomping around like they were on a holy quest. The nostalgia coated the back of his throat as he asked questions, prompting the other man to build his magical world with his responses, sounding entirely convinced at what he was saying. He talked of the veil of all magic, beasts from a thousand years ago slipping through, Druids and dragons and confusing prophecies. It seemed like he had been ‘protecting’ the ‘mortal realm’ for quite some time now, and Arthur tried not to feel sorry for him and his delusions.
“Ah!” Merlin cut himself off, just as he was explaining how exactly he had known about the creature down here, how he had felt something ‘weaken in the wards’, whatever that entailed. “There it is! I think it must be hopping around, materializing at random,” He fumbled with something in his pocket, pulling out a large ring of keys, tutting at them for a moment as he inspected the lock of this particular storage unit. “There’s no real way to tie objects of the old religion to the world, now, it would require far too much energy. I’m not even sure the collective spectrum of magic would be capable of that. It’s too…spread out. Thinned. You’d have to have some way of accumulating that much power, and it would take decades.”
He watched as he presented a key with a flourish, gesturing him forward to and handing him the torch as he unlocked the door. The fence rattled, and Merlin hooked the open lock on one of the links, humming quietly to himself as he swung the door open.
“So,” Arthur obediently shined the light ahead of them, flashing it around the cardboard boxes and plastic bins. “How do we…catch this thing?”
“Oh, we don’t have to catch it. The goblin is tied to the chest, so if we get close enough, it’ll come to defend its property. That and whatever it’s been stealing. Goblin’s love gold, anything expensive or shiny. It’ll have kept its treasures close, probably in the same unit,” He patted one of the boxes, and it rattled accordingly.
“Right,” He agreed, frowning at the sound of metal scraping against metal. Must have just been a lucky guess, he mused. He scanned the floor, having to stand nearly back to back with Merlin in the tight area of free space. He didn’t see anything particularly chest-like, or anything much besides the clutter. “How do you know the thing is even in here?”
Merlin made a noise, almost confused, and Arthur found himself shifting to look at him. His eyes, bright even against the shadows cast along his face, were squinted as he stared at him, searching his face for something. “It’s here. Just…look a little harder,” He pressed a hand to Arthur’s shoulder, his fingers thin and calloused against his jacket. There was a sharp, quick feeling in his gut, warmth jumping in his stomach and spreading through his esophagus. Suddenly, as if it had just been in his peripherals the entire time, he noticed a wooden trunk pressed against the wall. He blinked a few times, shuffling back from Merlin, his eyes following his movement carefully. Something in the air felt different, hot and tight. He didn’t like it.
“That wasn’t there before,” He told Merlin, trying to keep his tone level.
“Yes, it was,” He insisted, speaking with much more believable confidence. “I think you just didn’t want to see it.”
Arthur shook his head, watching as the man turned from him, shuffling forward and crouching by the chest, his hands tucked to his knees. “What does that even mean?” He muttered, and glanced at the exit.
Merlin didn’t reply, as if he had never spoken at all, hunching his shoulders to his ears and whispering something light, incomprehensible to Arthur, whether because of the volume in which it was spoken or the content of the speech. Nothing seemed to happen, for a moment, and there was absolute silence, nothing but the sound of pipes shifting above them. Then, almost entirely instantaneously, there was a growling noise coming from the corner.
On instinct, Arthur pressed himself back, flying towards the chained fence and pushing himself against it, out of the way. He watched, wide-eyed, as Merlin stood calmly, watching as a short, greenish thing spat at him. It had large, flapping ears and beady eyes, pointed teeth gnashing as it shook its disproportionate fists at them. Its limbs were skinny, long with large hands and feet, the skin looking wrinkled and stretched in odd places. Merlin, despite the fucking creature swiping and chittering at him, looked mildly irritated at the appearance of the being. He crossed his arms and wrinkled his nose, his feet firmly planted and his posture relaxed. Arthur felt himself begin to breathe harshly.
“What the fuck is that?!?!!!” He shrieked, and Merlin glanced at him quickly, his hair swept to the side of his head with the motion, before returning his attention to the thing in front of him.
Merlin clicked his tongue, and the creature hissed. “I told you, it’s a goblin,” He sounded each syllable out, and Arthur would be more offended if he wasn’t freaking out as much. “Do you have bad memory?”
“I thought you were kidding!” He yelped, trying to defend himself while also clinging to the wall, his fingers hooked in the metal fencing. “Goblins aren’t real!”
Merlin gave him an unimpressed look, and the creature—the goblin— let out a series of babbling sounds, something close to a language Arthur felt like he’d heard, but more animalistic, grating with random, uncoordinated pitches.
“Don’t be rude. He’s right in front of you,” He looked back at the goblin, almost exasperated, and snapped his fingers. Arthur felt the hairs on his neck stand on end, a strange energy flowing over his spine, familiar but hot, like the rumble of thunderclouds before lightning. The chest, which the goblin had been hobbling on top of, began to shake, the leather straps snapping and the wooden panels splintering. He vaguely registered a low, soft noise coming from Merlin’s lips, murmuring and humming as the box collapsed in on itself, metal details melting against the cracked wood, which began to turn to ash before his eyes.
“Incinerō,” Merlin whispered, clearly, a strange curl to his voice edging on the lines of an accent. There was a flash of gold along his cheeks, and the chest was nothing but a pile of dust underneath a very displeased green monstrosity.
It garbled unintelligibly at the both of them, spitting and stomping in the ash. Merlin watched, unwavering, and Arthur felt his breathing come back to him evenly, his fingers uncurling from the wire. He stepped next to the other man in a bout of courage, their shoulders almost brushing, his legs shaky.
“You just destroyed something with your mind,” He decided to say, hoping that maybe Merlin would deny it, and all of the lights would come on, revealing a secret camera crew on a new prank television show. Instead, the man simply nodded, biting his lip, almost shy.
“I was going to vanquish the goblin first, but he’s actually behaving nicely today, so I figured I would give him time to leave on his own,” With this, he turned back to the being, which was still growling at the loss of the trunk, hunched over and drooling. “Are you going to go home, Gobelyn?”
The goblin stilled, big golden eyes glaring up at them, spit foaming around sharp teeth. It chittered something at Merlin, which he scoffed at, and then it looked at Arthur, contemplatively.
“Why’s it looking at me?” Arthur whispered, hoarse, and the other man said nothing, but gently reached an arm across him, pushing him back. He watched, his heart rate spiking as the creature hissed. “Merlin, it’s looking at me!”
“Ne quidem cogitare de illo,” Merlin’s voice was sharp, warning, and Arthur looked wildly between him and the creature. “I mean it,” He grunted, and Arthur startled at the use of modern English. There was another moment, where none of them moved, and then everything fell apart.
The goblin lurched forward, and Merlin stepped in its path, his hands ready, eyes glowing, throwing it away. Arthur stumbled back, into the wall, the fence rattling with his weight. The goblin hissed, and Merlin began to chant again, his voice louder than before. Arthur tried to reach for the door, but the creature began mumbling lowly, eyes fixated on him, when suddenly it was gone, replaced by a glowing orb, which hovered in midair for a second. Merlin cursed, his concentration lost, and Arthur sprang to his feet, just as the orb flew towards him. He ducked, but it followed him, swerving wildly through the air.
He nearly went cross eyed, as it sprang towards him, hot against his skin. He let out a strangled noise from his throat, and the orb pressed against his lips, trying to pry its way into his mouth. His eyes watered and his jaw shook, creaking open, then Merlin was there, his hands brushing against his cheeks as he scooped the glowing ball into his hands, closing his fingers, his eyes molten, his brows furrowed.
“Sinite eum, egredere, vade in domum tuam!” He roared, and unfurled his hands, a spray of sparks exploding into the air, leaving the air crackling and smelling of old leather and copper. They both panted for a few seconds, staring at each other and watching as tiny ashes fell to the ground, disappearing as soon as they touched cement. Merlin flexed his fingers, moving first, straightening his sweater and giving Arthur a tiny, tired smile.
“Well,” He clapped, and Arthur startled, the movement rattling the wire he leaned so heavily against. “That’s that, then,” He picked up the forgotten flashlight, clicking it off and tucking it away. He turned to the door, creaking it open and then standing there, looking expectantly at Arthur. “I’m going to lock the unit,” He told him, slowly, and he tried to force his legs to move, momentum and instinct allowing him to march out. Merlin picked up the lock and neatly placed it on the closed entrance, clicking it shut and whistling as he turned, the noise tapering out as he glanced at his face. “What?” He asked, befuddled.
“What the fuck just happened?” Arthur whispered, trying to force his lungs to scrape the noise louder against his throat. “What was any of that?”
Merlin tilted his head at him, his lips wobbling with visible amusement. “That was maintenance.”
He winked, turning on his heel and waltzing away as if he hadn’t just broken the very fabric of the universe in the span of a couple minutes. He watched him go for a couple of seconds, his jaw hanging open. Then, he chased after him.