And Baby Makes Four...

[casualtheatrics2]

'Small' sequel to Maybe Baby, which can be found HERE. This got shamefully flufftastic, and perhaps a little smooshy too. Sorry! I’m in a candyfloss and rainbows mood….
I still don't own Merlin and I stole the title from somewhere, shamelessly, but I have no idea where it's from!!

--

“Mordred!” Morgana’s voice cuts through the still warmth of the summer afternoon like a hot knife through butter. “Stop teasing your cousin!”

Sprawled on a lounger on the patio, Merlin bats at Arthur. “Go and make sure your son is OK.”

Arthur, similarly reclining, snorts. “You gave birth to him. He’s your son.”

“MORDRED!” Morgana shrieks. “Leave Llacheu alone!”

“He started it!” Mordred shouts back.

“Mordred! Don’t speak to your mother like that!” Leon calls down from the study.

“Why not? I hate her!”

“MORDRED!” Leon bellows. “Apologise at once!”

“Get lost!”

“Mordred!”

“You can’t tell me what to do! You’re not my real dad!”

Arthur decides that he really, really needed (ought) to go and make sure his son was OK, when a tiny finger pulls up his eyelid. “Ow!” he moans, as the sunlight blasts into his eye.

“Sorry, Dad,” giggles a little voice next to his ear. Once his eyes have readjusted, Arthur turns his head to see Llacheu standing next to his recliner.

“Mordred giving you trouble again?”

Llacheu nods. “He pinched me.” Llacheu holds up his arm, where an angry red mark is blossoming on his pale skin.

“Oh well. These things happen,” Arthur says calmly. “Want to lie with me for a bit?”

Llacheu nods and climbs up onto Arthur’s chest. Tucking his dark-haired head under Arthur’s chin, the small boy drifts off to sleep.

Arthur wraps his arms around his son, and feels his chest clench with the love that floods his veins. The terror of being a parent hasn’t faded, but Arthur cannot regret for one second making the decision to knock Merlin up and force him to bear their son.

--

Merlin shakes Arthur awake half an hour later. “Come on, Arf. Time to go.”

Arthur struggles to his feet, arms full of Llacheu, and wanders to the door. Passing Morgana, he kisses her cheek. “Bye, sis.”

“Bye, Arthur. How’s Llacheu’s arm?”

Arthur glances down. “Fine.”

“I’m sorry about Mordred, he’s being a little shit at the moment.”

Arthur shrugs. “That’s what kids do.”

Morgana smiles and kisses him back. “See you.”

--

Arthur lies his son down in his racing car bed, and draws the duvet up over him. “Sleep tight, son,” he whispers, dropping a kiss onto Llacheu’s head.

Llacheu murmurs in response, hands closing around his toy dragon.

Arthur slips out of the room and closes the door softly behind him.

In the lounge, Merlin is sprawled across the sofa, sipping orange juice. He gestures to the glass of whiskey, already poured, that beckons to Arthur from the coffee table like an oasis in the desert.

Arthur takes a grateful slip, and settles on the sofa. Merlin slides across to curl against him.

“Arthur?”

“Merlin.”

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m pregnant.”

Arthur freezes in place, momentarily shocked, but he looks down at Merlin’s happy, smiling face and suddenly all he can think is another one. Another baby. Another baby… and he’s all choked up and tears are pouring down his face.

Merlin laughs, and kisses the tears away. “Those are good tears, right?”

Arthur nods, awkwardly. “God, yes!”

--

Arthur’s surprised that Merlin got pregnant so easily, and he worries, every day, that Merlin will miscarry, that they’ll have another smear on their bedsheets, a secret misery they have to explain away.

He worries, as well, that Merlin’s not throwing up, or shaking. Merlin eats well, sleeps deeply, peacefully, and seems barely ruffled by the whole thing. Arthur catches himself thinking one day, ‘What if he’s not really pregnant?’ and hates himself so thoroughly for his suspicious, wicked mind that he buys Merlin flowers on his way home from work.

Arthur blurts out his worries, about three weeks later, and Merlin laughs. “Oh, Arthur! The doctor said that often, a second pregnancy is much easier than the first. If I’m worried, I can go back and see him, but really, everything’s fine.”

And it really, really is.

--

When Merlin passes the five month mark of pregnancy, Arthur tells Llacheu over a Happy Meal at McDonalds (a rare treat) that he’s going to have a baby brother or sister in a few months’ time.

Llacheu chews thoughtfully on a chicken nugget before meeting his father’s eyes and saying, “Will it be like Mordred?”

Arthur chuckles. “No. Nothing like Mordred.” Privately, he thinks, God, I hope not.

Llacheu swings his feet and smiles sweetly at Arthur. “Then, Daddy,” he says seriously. “I am very…thrilled…about that.” And his face splits into a smile, because he’s just used a new word.

--

A few weeks later, Arthur meets Morgana for lunch. Morgana rubs at the bridge of her nose, and sighs heavily when Arthur arrives and kisses her cheek hello.

“Morg? You ok?”

“Yeah.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Leon asked me to marry him.”

Arthur can’t help the wide grin that spreads across his face. “Wow! Did you say yes?”

Morgana gives Arthur a look that very clearly states You are a moron. “Of course I said yes.”

Arthur laughed. “So what’s the problem?”

“Mordred.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “What about your demon spawn? What’s he grousing about now?”

Morgana leans across the table and slaps Arthur’s arm. She chuckles, though, before replying, “Well, he’s a bit unsettled about it. Despite Leon having been around his whole life, he’s going through this phase of being difficult about it. You heard him the other week: ‘You’re not my real dad!’ It’s just…he’s a bit upset.”

Arthur takes her hand. “It’s a lot to adjust to. He’ll get used to it. When’s the big day?”

Morgana laughs. “Not for a while. Maybe next summer?”

Arthur grins. “Can’t wait. I’m your chief bridesmaid, right?”

--

Arthur’s only marginally surprised when his secretary informs him that afternoon that a Mr Sorcier is there to visit him. Arthur tells her to show him in.

He looks up from the desk to see a lean man, with shaggy, dark blonde hair standing in the doorway. “Hello, Alvarr.”

“Arthur. How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. And yourself?”

Alvarr smiles. Arthur has never liked the man, but Morgana loved him for a time, and he’s Mordred’s father, so Arthur makes the effort to play nice.

“I’m great. I expect Morgana’s told you?”

Arthur keeps his face blank. He’s a lawyer. He’s a master of implacable expressions. “About what?”

“Her engagement.”

Arthur nods sharply once. “Here,” he gestures to the chair. “Come and sit. What can I do for you?”

Alvarr saunters across to the chair and drops down into it, casual insouciance in every line of his lanky frame. “I just thought I’d stop by and ask for your opinion on Leon. After all, he’s going to be my son’s step-father.”

Arthur manages not to blurt out that Leon’s more like Mordred’s real father, and instead smiles, shark-like. “Well, I’m not the person to ask. Leon has been one of my closest friends since school. I’m obviously delighted that he’s going to tame my sister.” The unspoken criticism of Alvarr hangs in the air.

Alvarr laughs sarcastically. “Very well. I obviously should talk to Leon himself. He often drops Mordred off on a Friday night.”

Arthur keeps his tone cool when he replies, “I’m sure you’ll find him most amenable.”

Alvarr laughs again, same tone colouring the noise. “Well, thanks for sparing me the time for this illuminating chat – give my regards to Merlin.”

“And please give mine to Emmyria.”

Alvarr nods and saunters out of the door. Arthur turns his head back to his work.

--

When Arthur gets home that night, he wraps his arms around Llacheu and holds on for a little longer than normal.

Merlin notices, and once Llacheu’s in bed, Merlin rubs Arthur’s shoulder and says, “What’s wrong?”

Arthur explains, about Morgana and Alvarr and Mordred, and the engagement and, and, and everything else, and finishes by saying, “Every day I look at you, and at Llacheu, and I know how lucky I am. But seeing Alvarr today, I was so…so…”

“I know,” Merlin soothes, “I know.”

That night, Arthur adjusts the photo by his bed, of Merlin holding Llacheu on his first birthday, so that it will be the first thing he sees when he wakes in the morning.

--

Suddenly, Merlin’s in labour. Nine months have passed in a flash, and Arthur’s once again standing at Merlin’s side, whilst he writhes and gasps and pushes another life into the world.

This time, the doctor plops the slippery baby onto Merlin’s chest and says, “Congratulations, Mr Emrys, Mr Pendragon, it’s a girl.”

Arthur stares down at the tiny body on Merlin’s chest, and reaches out one finger to stroke the curve of her ear.

“Oh, god,” groans Merlin. “She’s inherited my ears.”

“They’re one of my favourite things,” Arthur replies without thinking.

Merlin smiles at him. “That’s sweet. But they’re horrendous.”

“I love them,” Arthur insists, and kisses his husband. “She’s beautiful.”

Merlin kisses him back. “I know.”

--

Arthur picks Llacheu up from his nursery, and asks him if he wants to go meet his sister.

Llacheu’s face lights up. “Really? My sister?”

Arthur looks down at his son, at his big ears that he inherited from Merlin, along with his dark hair and pale skin, and the blue eyes Llacheu got from Arthur, and feels the love for his son thunder in his chest. “Yeah, your sister.”

Llacheu grins, Arthur’s own smile spread across his lips. “Let’s go, Daddy!”

--

Llacheu peers into the crib, and reaches out one finger to poke the baby’s face. “She’s all wrinkly,” he says warily. “Like a bad apple.”

Merlin laughs. “Llacheu, she’s brand-new. Only just born. She needs a day or two to smooth out.”

Llacheu giggles. “Brand-new baby,” he singsongs, poking at her again. She wakes and reaches out a fist to grab Llacheu’s finger.

Arthur smiles down into the crib. “Hey, poppet. Meet your big brother, Llacheu.”

Llacheu smiles and says, “Hi, baby. Daddy, what’s her name?”

Arthur opens his mouth to reply that they haven’t decided yet, when Merlin says, “Her name’s Ygraine.”

Arthur looks up, startled. Merlin smiles at him, and says to Llacheu, “That was your grandma’s name, you know.”

For a moment, Arthur thinks the lump in his throat might choke him. Llacheu looks up. “Daddy, can I hold Ygraine?”

Arthur smiles at his son. “Of course you can, darling.”

--fin—

OMG. Ridiculous schmoop.

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