nyxelestia

Story Title: Beside Me
Chapter: 1.4 - Vene Vidi Visa
Rating: R
Summary: X-Men AU: For many downtrodden mutants, rejected throughout a lifetime of unwelcome blood dictating their lives, Camelot Academy is not just a school - it's a home. But something dark is brewing, and Camelot is no longer as safe as it appears.
Word Count: 2900
Characters/Pairings: Arthur/Merlin, Gwen, Lancelot, Morgana, Gwaine
Chapter Warnings/Content: minor anti-mutant bigotry,
Beta: none
Notes:Because I'm easily distracted from my Big Bang.

Chapter 1: School’s In Session
Part 3: Vene Vidi Visa

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~*~

As promised in the brochure Gaius had given Merlin as a rundown of the school, on the weekend older students were allowed out into the local village whenever they wanted, and even younger students went in groups with the teachers.

The village was surprisingly nice about it all.

“They really don’t mind several dozen teenage mutants wandering in every weekend?” Merlin asked as they approached some sort of super-surprise clothing boutique of some kind (with the look on Morgana’s face at the mere mention of it he was already wary).

“Some old timers have a problem with the ‘teenage’ bit but otherwise, no, they don’t mind,” Lancelot said.

“They used to,” Gwen said. “There’s all sorts of stories about them trying to stop the ‘mutant school’ when Camelot was being founded. But over the years they sort of realized just how false their perceptions of mutants are. Now they don’t mind – a lot of Camelot graduates even move back here, so a lot of their neighbors are mutants, now, too.”

“It helps that this is cheap labor,” Morgana added wryly, vaguely gesturing to where Gili, another telekinetic, was standing before a shop changing out the letters on a tall sign at the direction of an old woman beside him. “How a lot of us get money, odd jobs every weekend for a few pounds here and there. And, here we are – Avalon Apparel,” she added when they reached what looked like an ivory tower that could have belonged to Camelot’s architecture, had it been a Disney film.

“It’s run by an old Class II Camelot alumni,” Gwen said, with a slight giggle as Lancelot tried to edge away from the store. “She designs the much of the clothing she sells. Her name is Sophia, but her alias is Sidhe.”

Merlin could why she’d name herself after a fairy.

“I’m Sophia,” the woman with auburn hair streaked with neon pink, sparkling eyes, and sodding iridescent dragonfly wings greeted him with.

“Um,” Merlin said. “Hi, I’m…Merlin.”

She raised a curious eyebrow. “As in your alias?”

“As in my mother read too much,” Merlin said, deadpan. “My alias is Warlock.”

She smiled.

“Well, I named myself after a type of old fairy, so I can’t really complain about names,” she said.

“Why are we here? I already have some clothes,” Merlin asked of Morgana, holding up his shopping bag as proof. “What’s so special about this place?”

“Take a look around and see for yourself,” Sophia said with a wink, before promptly flying up the middle of the open space in the tower, between multiple clothing lines with more designs hanging off them, to another floor, landing over the railing and helping out another customer, a human village resident who was completely unsurprised by Sophia and her wings.

Merlin did as she said, and quickly noticed an odd pattern to many of the clothes, which seemed to be based off other designs, but…different.

“A lot of mutants have physical mutations rather than powers or anything like that,” Gwen said. “So she designs clothing for them – like a lot of her shirts are backless, or have those weird slits? For her wings.”

Merlin quickly noticed, seeing hats with protrusions for eyestalks, fashionable jeans with cuts for tails, clothing created with extra limbs in mind, everything. Designer level clothes like Prada and Armani (Merlin did know something about clothes, thank you very much! He could read labels!) were mixed with Sophia’s own designs. Merlin saw Jonas, a boy with a tail, perusing some trousers with what appeared to be an extra leg, a thin one – a way for the tail to be warm and covered, too.

“Wow,” Merlin murmured. Clothing for mutants. It seemed – it wasn’t normal. Muties didn’t get anything just for them.

But he’d just come from a school for mutants, in a village that was highly tolerant and even accepting of mutants, and in a store that sold clothing designed and catered with mutants in mind.

It was…mindblowing, that someone would really care about mutants like this.

“…so definitely want to aim for something stretchy, if she’s the active type, and this blue will go with her hair style,” Sophia finished rattling off to the old lady when they reached the third floor, browsing.

“Thank you, dearie,” the old lady said as she picked out some shirts which were probably not for her. “She’ll love these.”

“If you tell the clerk these are for someone’s birthday, he’ll give you a special gift-bag and receipt to match,” Sophia said cheerfully, before turning to Merlin and Morgana. “So, Morgana – what does this one need?”

“I don’t think I have the money,” Merlin said, because Morgana had already paid for the rest of his clothes and he couldn’t let her pay more and he didn’t miss the price tags on these clothes (even the “student discount” prices).

“I do,” Morgana said cheerfully. “Merlin’s power is the ability to absorb other people’s powers and copy it into his DNA – but it’s a painful process, and it’s one he can’t control, so he can’t touch other mutants skin-to-skin. Obviously a bit problematic in a mutant school.” Sophia nodded, taking in his long coat, his gloves, his scarf, everything. “Think you can still make him gorgeous without baring his skin?”

“He doesn’t need my help,” Sophia said with a cheerful wink to Merlin, which made him blush as she continued with, “But yes, definitely – now, come along, you.”

Which was how Merlin ended up spending the next hour getting himself prodded, asked a million questions about his preferred clothing style, and measured to death. He was vaguely worried about the excessive Harry Potter references in his life when reminded of the scene in the first book with the space between Harry’s nostrils getting measured, and promptly shouted, “You don’t need to measure that!” when her hands were getting just a little too close to his crotch.

She sighed. “Fine, fine, be that way.” She turned to Morgana. “I have plenty of things I can tailor to him – come by next weekend?”

“You know it,” Morgana said.

“Good, and – oi, Lance! I spent hours setting that up!”

Merlin looked up to see Lance had gotten himself tangled among the clothing lines while drifting around as Gwen browsed the store.

“Why are all men so stupid?” Sophia asked, before launching up to deal with it.

Morgana shook her head, and Gwen just smiled at Merlin in a way that made him want to run to the electronics shop down the street and hide, preferably without Lance there to give long analytical reviews of each piece of tech inside it.

He started to back away as she and Morgana approached, abandoning Lance to Sophia’s mercies above them.

“Now, about your hair…”

~*~

Merlin managed to escape having his hair dyed rainbow or blue or red or whatever it was Morgana tried.

Barely.

He was never going shopping with them ever again.

(He knew he said that last week, but this time he meant it!)

“You’ll go with us again,” Morgana promised with an evil smile as they stood watching as Gwaine tried to surreptitiously disguise the big case of beer he just bought to be able to get into the school.

“Should we tell him that Oswald can create illusions and attach them to objects?” Gwen asked. “And that he helps kids sneak stuff in all the time?”

“Nah,” Morgana said. “Let’s see if he can sneak them into the school without help. Besides, Oswald charges for it.”

Merlin just sighed. He was doomed.

They trekked back up to the castle as darkness closed in, and Merlin grumbled, “I mean it, I’m never going shopping with you again.”

Morgana smirked, Gwen laughed, and Lance just sighed.

“Yes, you are,” Morgana promised. “I’ve already Seen it. You’re going to look brilliant – Sophia’s going to do a real number with you.”

“I refuse,” Merlin said deadpan. “I like having my sanity intact…”

“Don’t bother, Merlin,” Lance said. “I think even a Class V wouldn’t be able to resist her. Just go with it.”

“I’m fairly certain a Class V would kill itself and her before shopping became an issue,” Merlin said. “Though admittedly ending my own life as a violent mini-supernova of self-destruction is starting to seem like more and more of an attractive option.”

Morgana just laughed, and Gwen rolled her eyes, and Lance said, “Better you than me, mate. I’m done being their giant dress-up doll.”

“What on earth gave you the impression we were finished with you?” Morgana asked, and Lance gulped and promptly shot up in the air.

“Hey!” Merlin shouted after him. “Don’t leave me alone with them!”

“Sorry!” Lance shouted over his shoulder, and as Gwen and Morgana both slung an arm over his shoulders, trapping him between them, he sighed.

He was really doomed.

~*~

Arthur winced as the car neared his home, but otherwise showed no reaction.

That didn’t stop Kay from catching it, though. “What’s the matter with you, then?”

With a large sigh, Arthur leaned back in the seat of his friend’s car, careful to angle his back away from Kay and the other bloke and the two girls with them. While his jackets and shirts were specially designed with padding to make sure that people wouldn’t feel his deformed back even if they were pressed right up against it, he still got nervous at people going near his mutant appendages.

But luckily, a few well placed lies and rumors kept people understanding and uninterested.

“Latest round of surgeries,” Arthur said, because he did have a slightly unusually thick-looking back and why was that, Arthur? Oh, a spinal defect. Don’t look too closely, the scars are horrendous, from the defect and the surgeries to fix it, and after the defect is fixed it’ll take more surgery, plastic surgery, to make them go away.

(Luckily, people believed it).

“Back still a little sore,” he added.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Kay’s flavor of the week said, laying a probably-supposed-to-be-comforting-but-really-just-annoying hand on his shoulder – way too close to his back, his wings.

“It’s all right,” Arthur said wanly, as they approached his house, gently removing her hand, like the gentleman that he was. Just because he was a mutant didn’t mean he had to be barbaric.

“Get better,” she said after Kay dropped him off outside his house, and Arthur waved them off before practically running to the living room, and ripping off the custom padded shirt, and finally stretching his wings.

They’d been cramping since morning, him having gone a full three days with them bound tightly to his back, and he sighed in relief as he pulled the thin, flat chords away and stretched out his strained muscles in the living room.

He hated having to actually maintain his defects, but they were muscles and they could atrophy. But he got by on as little as possible.

(Or he was supposed to, anyway.)

Arthur looked down the length of his wings at his side as he pulled them in and out, the careful set of exercises worked out to keep them functioning without overdeveloping the muscle and making them more noticeable. (Arthur wondered if he should mention to the doctor he was able to fly…but the doctor talked to Uther and- no, he wasn’t going to mention it).

It took only a few months for them to fully form after they started appearing, but since then they’ve grown tremendously, nearly spanning the living room when he stretched them out.

“Arthur?”

Arthur immediately snapped his wings close to his body, but it was too late – Father stood in the doorway to the living room, not even hiding the disgust on his face from seeing the wings.

“Must you do that in the living room?” Uther asked with a sigh.

“Sorry, Father, I just…they’ve been aching all day,” Arthur said, feeling guilty as he quickly strapped his wings back in and pulled the shirt on. Within moments, he looked normal again, human, real.

(Because he wasn’t real with wings. People with wings were only in stories, in myths, they weren’t real, so Arthur wasn’t real, not with wings, no, he wasn’t, he wasn’t, he wasn’t.)

Uther Pendragon smiled at him. Smiled. At him. “Well, you won’t have to be dealing with them for much longer,” he said, as Arthur picked up his school bag and fished out the leftover crisps he had from school, turning away to go up to his room. Homework, so much damnable homework. “If all goes well, you won’t even be dealing with them for another month.”

That made Arthur freeze, before slowly turning to face Father.

“You mean…?”

Father grinned outright. “The cure has finally been stabilized. You will be rid of those things by the end of the month, Arthur.”

Yes!

(Yes.)

“That’s brilliant!” Arthur cried out, before dropping his school bag again as Father actually hugged him with one arm.

He was finally going to be a whole human being again.

He was going to be Uther’s son again.

“It is!” Uther said. “I’ve already ordered some takeaway to celebrate tonight – I know you have a big test tomorrow, so we’ll go out and celebrate with a proper dinner on Friday, hm?”

“Of course, Father,” Arthur said, stepping back, not bothering to fight down the big, happy grin on his face. “I just…it’s really? The cure is finished?”

Uther nodded. “Fully and completely stabilized for Classes I, II, and III. Class IV is still a little shaky, though, but it can be administered fairly safely, and it won’t be long until it’s stabilized for them, too.”

“And Class V?”

Uther rolled his eyes. “There are no Class V’s left, Arthur – their power is too great, and they’ve all killed themselves with the force of their own power. They cure themselves, really.”

“Right, sorry, just…” Arthur didn’t finish, shrugging it off instead. He was a Class I, physical mutation only. What did it matter?

(Morgana was a Class III – but Father said that was cured, too…and she probably wanted to stay sick, anyway, and Morgause probably would, too.)

Finally, after eight years of being a mutant, it was coming to an end. He was going to get rid of his wings.

(No, his deformities! Those appendages!)

He was finally going to be cured.

~*~

Merlin jittered a little nervously outside Gaius’s office, staring down at the small summons note in his hand as he waited, wondering what was going on to be called here before classes had even started for the day. Did he break some rules he didn’t know about? The academy wasn’t particularly strict at all, but maybe there was something-

The door opened.

Gaius was escorting another student out, saying jovially, “I do not want to have to ban you from the media room again!”

The bloke nodded, blushing slightly and saying, “Sorry, sir, I’ll fix it next time, I promise,” and rushed off.

Gaius’s countenance saddened a little as he gestured Merlin in, which was far from reassuring. They both sat down, and Gaius pulled up Merlin’s medical file.

“As you likely remember, I took some of your blood to examine your DNA and take a better look at your powers,” Gaius said. “And your genetic code, overall. I have some good news – no STD's or anything else to worry about. But...”

“This doesn’t sound good,” Merlin said, nervously, looking at the closed medical file. Was something wrong with his powers? Or was there some other genetic…thing…going on? Maybe some disease unrelated to mutant DNA?

“It depends on your definition, at this point,” Gaius said.

Merlin frowned.

“What do you mean?”

Gaius sighed heavily before he spoke.

“Merlin – do you understand the system of Classes, one through five, for dividing powers?”

“Um, it's logarithmic or something? One is minor mutations which don’t really give you much of a power and five is theoretically limitless power? Class II’s and III’s are the most common, and there are no more Class V’s left.”

An odd expression passed on Gaius’s face, but it was gone before Merlin could read it.

“In crude terms, yes,” Gaius said. “I am a class II, capable of extensive healing and mutant-level photographic memory. Gwaine is a Class III, for reasons best left to him. Guinevere is a Class II, while Morgana is also a Class III.”

Merlin nodded. He kind of figured all their powers would be roughly around that level.

“What am I?”

“I will cut to the point, Merlin,” Gaius said. “You are a Class V.”

~*~

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Remember, comments are ♥! This marks the end of Chapter 1, so next week I will not be updating this fic. (I may post something else, depending on circumstances). The week after I'll post the first part of Chapter 2: Home Invasion.