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Chapter Text

Merlin Emrys stood on the crowded platform of Paddington Station, the cacophony of bustling travellers and the shrill whistle of departing trains filling the air around him. He took a deep breath, clutching the worn leather strap of his duffel bag, and glanced down at the piece of paper in his hand. An address, hastily scrawled in his handwriting, was his only guide to his new life.

Leaving his small village for the bright lights of London had been a leap of faith. For as long as Merlin could remember, his father, Balinor, had been a strict and imposing figure, dictating the path of Merlin's life with an iron fist. There were rules to follow, expectations to meet, and no room for deviation. Merlin had always been the obedient omega son, dutifully studying IT at university and securing a respectable job as a consultant—at least, that's what his parents believed.

In reality, Merlin's passion lay elsewhere. He dreamed of the stage, of acting, of bringing stories to life and captivating audiences with his performances. It was a dream that his father would never understand, let alone support. So, Merlin had lied. He told his parents he had landed a prestigious IT job in London, a move that Balinor reluctantly approved of, believing his son was following a sensible path.

As Merlin exited the station, he marvelled at the towering buildings and the ceaseless energy of the city. It was overwhelming, but it also filled him with a sense of exhilaration. He flagged down a black cab and gave the driver the address of his new flat. His heart pounded with a mix of fear and excitement as the cab wove through the city streets, each turn bringing him closer to his new life.

The flat, a modest but cozy space in Camden, was a far cry from the sprawling countryside home he had grown up in. Merlin pushed open the door and stepped inside, dropping his bag on the floor. The room was empty, save for a few pieces of furniture and a stack of moving boxes. He smiled, imagining the potential of the place, the freedom it represented.

He was soon jolted back to reality by the buzzing of his phone. His mother's name flashed on the screen, and he took a steadying breath before answering.

"Hi, Mum!" he said, forcing cheerfulness into his voice.

"Merlin, dear, how's London?" Hunith's voice was warm and comforting, but there was an underlying note of concern that Merlin recognized all too well.

"It's great, Mum. The flat is nice, and the city is…well, it's big, but I'm getting used to it and I only just arrived," Merlin replied, glancing around the room.

"I’m really excited about your new job! It may be hard but I know you’ll never give up.” A fondness in her voice.

A gulp. "Yeah, there's probably a lot to learn, but I'm excited."

His mother sighed softly. "I’m glad to hear that, Merlin. Your father is proud of you, you know. He just wants what's best for you."

"I know, Mum," Merlin said, his voice softer now. "I'll call you later, okay? I need to finish unpacking."

After hanging up, Merlin let out a long breath. The guilt of lying to his parents gnawed at him, but he knew it was the only way to pursue his dream. He couldn't let his father's rigid expectations hold him back any longer.

Merlin spent the next few hours unpacking, arranging his belongings, and trying to make the flat feel like home. As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the windows, he decided to take a break and explore the neighborhood. He grabbed his coat and headed out, eager to immerse himself in the vibrant life of Camden.

The streets were alive with activity—musicians played on street corners, market stalls lined the sidewalks, and people of all walks of life hurried past. Merlin felt a sense of belonging here that he had never felt in his village. He wandered aimlessly, taking in the sights and sounds, until he stumbled upon a small theatre tucked away on a quiet street.

The sign outside read, "Open Auditions Tonight." Merlin's heart skipped a beat. It was as if fate had led him here. He hesitated for only a moment before pushing open the door and stepping inside.

The interior of the theatre was intimate, with rows of red velvet seats facing a small stage. A handful of hopeful actors milled about, scripts in hand, chatting nervously. Merlin approached the sign-in table, where a friendly-looking woman handed him a form.

"First time auditioning?" she asked.

"Yes," Merlin admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "But I've always wanted to act."

She smiled encouragingly. "Everyone has to start somewhere. Just be yourself and give it your best shot."

Merlin nodded, taking the form and finding a quiet corner to fill it out. As he wrote, he felt a sense of determination settle over him. This was his chance, his moment to prove to himself that he could follow his dreams.

When his name was called, Merlin took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage. The bright lights momentarily blinded him, but he focused on the script in his hand and the passion in his heart. He began his monologue, pouring all his emotions into the words, losing himself in the performance.

As he finished, the small audience of directors and a few fellow actors erupted into applause. Merlin felt a rush of exhilaration and relief. He had done it—he had taken the first step towards his dream.

Leaving the theatre that night, Merlin knew the road ahead would be challenging. Balancing auditions, rehearsals, and the façade of his supposed IT job would not be easy. But for the first time in his life, he felt truly alive, driven by a passion that no amount of parental disapproval could extinguish.

London was a city of endless possibilities, and Merlin was ready to embrace every one of them.

Chapter Text

Years had passed since Merlin first set foot in London. He had experienced the highs and lows of pursuing his dream, each audition a steppingstone toward his goal. Today, Merlin stood outside a prestigious film studio, clutching a script that could change everything.

Merlin read through his lines one more time, focusing on a pivotal scene: "I may be an omega, but my gender doesn't decide anything. See me for who I am... Dad, please see me for who I am."

He poured his heart into the audition, feeling the weight of each word as if speaking directly to his father. As he delivered the lines with all the emotion he could muster, he heard the director yell, "Cut!"

Merlin blinked, momentarily confused. His eyes adjusted to the scene in front of him, and he realized the director wasn't speaking to him. He was watching another actor, on the main stage, performing the same scene. The actor delivered the lines flawlessly, and the director nodded approvingly.

Merlin's heart sank. He stood frozen, watching as the director congratulated the other actor. The realization hit him hard—he hadn't even made it past the initial audition. Feeling dejected, Merlin turned and left the studio, feeling his dreams slipping through his fingers.

As he walked through the bustling streets of London, he replayed the scene in his mind, each step echoing his disappointment. He headed to a nearby pub where he often met his friends. Gwen, Lancelot, and Gwaine were already there, their faces reflecting their own struggles.

Gwen, an aspiring stylist, greeted him with a hug. "How did it go?"

Merlin shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips. "Same old story."

Lancelot, who had recently submitted a script to a major studio, looked equally downcast. "They loved the script but said it wouldn't sell unless I made drastic changes. I refused."

Gwaine, the aspiring director, always the sarcastic one, raised his glass. "Here's to staying true to ourselves and being broke."

Merlin forced a laugh and joined them at the table. As they drank, they shared their frustrations and dreams, the camaraderie a small comfort in their shared struggle.

Gwaine, sensing Merlin's deeper turmoil, made a remark. "Maybe one day Balinor will realize his son's more than just an obedient omega."

"Shut up, Gwaine," Merlin snapped, but the words stung. His father's disapproval was a constant shadow over his life.

Merlin took a deep drink from his glass.

Gwen reached over and squeezed his hand. "We're here for you, Merlin. Always."

Merlin reflected on how they had met. Gwen, Lancelot and Gwaine had been introduced through a small theatre production, their passion for storytelling and film instantly connecting them. Over time, their friendship had grown into a tight-knit support system.

Just then, Merlin's phone rang. Seeing his father's name on the screen, he quickly straightened up, trying to appear sober. Gwaine chuckled but was silenced by a stern look from Merlin.

"Hi, Dad," Merlin said, his voice steady.

"Merlin, how's the job?"

"It's good, Dad. Busy, but I'm managing," the familiar guilt comfortably settling in.

"Your grandfather passed away," Balinor said bluntly. "The funeral is in two days. I expect you to be here."

Merlin's heart sank. "I'll be there. "

After hanging up, Merlin stared at his drink. His friends watched him with concern, understanding the weight of family obligations.

"It's going to be okay, Merlin," Lancelot said softly.

"Yeah," Merlin replied, though he wasn't sure he believed it. He was caught between his dream and his duty, the pressure of both threatening to crush him. But for tonight, he had his friends and a shared resolve to keep fighting for what they believed in.

Gwaine broke the silence with a sigh. "This is all so messed up. We work so hard, put everything we have into our dreams, and it feels like we're just hitting brick walls."

"Welcome to the life of struggling artists," Gwen said dryly. "But we can't give up. We just have to keep pushing, keep trying."

Merlin looked around the table at his friends, each of them so talented, so passionate. They were his lifeline in this relentless city. "We'll make it," he said, more to himself than anyone else. "We have to."

Lancelot raised his glass. "To dreams and determination."

They clinked their glasses together, a silent pact to keep going despite the odds. The night wore on, filled with laughter and stories of what could be. For a few hours, the weight of their struggles lifted, replaced by the warmth of friendship.

But as the evening drew to a close, reality set back in. Merlin walked home alone, the cold night air biting at his skin. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts: his father's expectations, his grandfather's funeral, the relentless pursuit of a dream that seemed just out of reach.

Entering his flat, Merlin sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the script still clutched in his hand. The words blurred as tears filled his eyes. He had lied to his parents, deceived them to chase his passion, and now it felt like he was failing on all fronts.

He took a deep breath and set the script aside. Tomorrow, he would call his mother and book a train ticket home. He would face his father, attend the funeral, and somehow, he would find a way to keep his dream alive.

Merlin lay back on his bed, the exhaustion of the day washing over him. London was a city of endless possibilities, and despite the setbacks, he knew he couldn't give up. He closed his eyes, holding onto the hope that one day, his father would see him for who he truly was—a dreamer, a fighter, an actor.

The road ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges and disappointments. But with his friends by his side and a fire burning in his heart, Merlin was determined to forge his own path, no matter how difficult it might be.

Chapter Text

Arthur Pendragon woke up to the persistent buzzing of his alarm clock. He groaned, rolling over to silence it before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over his bedroom. He had a busy day ahead at his company, Camelot Tech, which he had built from the ground up without relying on his family's influential name.

Camelot Tech was Arthur's pride and joy. The company specialised in cutting-edge software solutions and innovative technologies, rapidly gaining a reputation as a leader in the tech industry. No one was willing to invest, everyone assuming that a spoilt rich kid could never make it but Arthur had poured his heart and soul into Camelot Tech, often working late into the night and during the weekends to ensure its success. His efforts had paid off, with the company now thriving and expanding at an impressive rate, venturing into other countries.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Arthur was on his way to work when his phone rang, flashing his mother’s picture.

"Arthur, love, we need you at the family house for a meeting. It's important," Ygraine's gentle yet firm voice conveyed the seriousness of the situation.

Arthur sighed, knowing that when his mother said something was important, she meant it. He ended the call and texted his sister Morgana as he navigated through the morning traffic.

"Do you know what this family meeting is about?" he texted.

"No idea, but it doesn't sound good," Morgana replied.

Arthur's mind raced with possibilities as he pulled into the parking lot of Camelot Tech. He parked his car and made his way to his office, where he was greeted by his vice-president and best friend, Leon.

"Morning, Arthur," Leon said, looking up from a stack of reports on his desk. "Ready for another busy day?"

Arthur shook his head. "Actually, I have to head to a family meeting. My parents insisted."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Must be serious if they’re pulling you away from work. Want to talk about it?"

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They probably want to discuss my marriage. Or rather, the lack thereof."

Leon chuckled. "Ah, the old 'when are you getting married?' talk. Good luck with that."

Arthur smiled wryly. "Thanks, I’ll need it. Can you handle things here while I’m gone?"

Leon gave a mock salute. "Consider it done. Go deal with your family. I'll make sure Camelot Tech doesn't fall apart in your absence."

Arthur appreciated Leon's easy-going nature and reliability. Leaving the company in Leon's capable hands, he made his way to the grand Pendragon estate. Upon arrival, he was greeted by his parents, Uther and Ygraine, who were already seated in the lavish living room.

"Arthur, we need to talk," Uther began, his tone serious but kind. "It's time we discuss your future, specifically your marriage. You've avoided this long enough."

Arthur felt a familiar frustration bubbling up. "I've told you, I'm not ready to get married yet. I want to find someone I love, not be forced into an arranged marriage."

Uther's expression was firm. "You need to think about our family legacy, Arthur. You have been putting this off for too long, we will proceed with finding a suitable match for you."

Arthur took a deep breath, his patience wearing thin. "I've sacrificed my youth to build Camelot Tech from scratch, without relying on our family name! I've even saved the family's dying business with my investments. The one thing, the one thing I ask for is the freedom to fall in love with an omega and marry them."

Uther's face tightened, but Arthur pressed on. "Father, didn't you used to wait at the bus stop every day for Melissa, your uni sweetheart, helping her carry her books?"

Ygraine's eyes widened in surprise. "Who is Melissa?" she demanded.

Uther looked at Ygraine, who quickly denied it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, nonsense, Arthur! Melissa? Who even is Melissa? I don't remember any such person."

Arthur turned to his mother. "Mum, didn't you used to look forward to the yogurt salesman, Adam, who would give you a free mango yogurt cup, your favourite, every week?"

Ygraine blushed slightly. "Adam? Mango yogurt? Arthur, darling, you have such a vivid imagination."

Arthur stood his ground, a small smile tugging at his lips. "You all have fallen in love when you were supposed to fall in love but I- I just slaved away my time, I just want to fall in love with someone, to go eat ice cream with them at 2 am, to hold them when they get cold, to share in their sorrow and happiness."

"How would you know that you've fallen in love with someone? Where will this love come from?" Asked Ygraine.

"When you fall in love with someone, you will see your entire future in their face, and if you die, you should only want to pass in their arms, I'll find them soon enough." Arthur wistfully replied.

The room fell silent. Uther and Ygraine exchanged glances, their resolve wavering. Uther cleared his throat, trying to maintain his stern expression but failing as a smile cracked through. "Alright, Arthur. We’ll give you more time, but please don't keep us waiting forever."

Ygraine nodded, her smile matching Uther's. "We trust you to make the right choice."

Arthur felt a mix of relief and determination. He knew his path was still uncertain, but he was more resolved than ever to find an omega to love on his own terms.

Arthur let out a sigh of relief as he stood up. "Of course, Mother," he said warmly. He moved forward and embraced both of his parents, feeling a deep sense of gratitude for their understanding and support.

Ygraine smiled and patted his back affectionately. "We just want you to be happy, Arthur. Remember that."

Uther nodded, his stern expression softening.

Arthur stepped back, looking at both of them with a renewed sense of determination. "I appreciate it, truly. Thank you for understanding."

As he left the family house, a sense of optimism filled his heart. Despite the lingering pressure from his parents, he felt hopeful. He knew that with their support and his own resolve, he could find the omega who would share his dreams and passions.

Driving back to Camelot Tech, Arthur's thoughts wandered to the future. He imagined the moments he yearned for: holding someone close on cold nights, walking hand in hand through the city streets, laughing together over stupid things and cooking meals together. He thought of lazy Sunday mornings spent in bed, spontaneous road trips, celebrating each other's successes, and comforting one another in moments of sadness. The small, everyday moments of intimacy and connection that made life rich and meaningful.

Arthur glanced at the bustling city around him, feeling a newfound sense of excitement. The love of his life might be just around the corner, and with each step, he felt closer to making that dream a reality.

Chapter Text

Arthur Pendragon stood at the arrivals gate of Heathrow Airport, scanning the crowd for his sister, Morgana. It had been four years since they last saw each other in person, with Morgana studying abroad. Finally, he spotted her, her familiar silhouette bringing a smile to his face.

Morgana waved as she approached, pulling her suitcase behind her. "Arthur!"

Arthur hugged her tightly. "Morgana, it's so good to see you."

As they walked towards the car, Arthur asked, "Do you know whose funeral it is?"

"Not sure," Morgana replied. "Dad just said something about an old family friend." She paused, eyeing Arthur critically. "Your beard and glasses look suck, by the way."

Arthur frowned. "That's what you say to your brother after not meeting him for four years?"

"I video-called you," Morgana countered.

"Why didn't you say it then?"

"I wanted to say it to your face."

Arthur just sighed, shaking his head with a smile.

They drove to the Pendragon estate, where their parents were waiting. The family then headed to the church together. The atmosphere was somber as they arrived, the weight of the occasion settling over them.

As they entered the church, an old, stone building with stained glass windows that cast colorful patterns on the floor as the sunlight filtered through, they paid their respects to the bereaved, Balinor and Hunith Emrys.

Ygraine instantly stood by her old friend, comforting Hunith as she wailed, her sobs echoing through the quiet space. Ygraine held Hunith's hand, whispering soothing words and offering a shoulder to lean on.

Arthur waited in line with his father and Morgana to pay their respects to the deceased. The church was filled with mourners, the air heavy with the scent of lilies and the soft murmur of whispered condolences. The wooden pews creaked under the weight of the gathered crowd, and the stained glass windows cast colorful patterns on the floor.

As Arthur approached the casket, he noticed a man nearby, receiving condolences with a calm, composed demeanor. The man smelled faintly of sandalwood and vanilla, scents of an omega. As Arthur got closer, he saw the man more clearly: striking blue eyes that seemed to hold a depth of emotion, dark tousled hair that framed his face like a halo, and a slender build that suggested both grace and resilience. His high cheekbones and sharp jawline gave him an almost ethereal appearance, complemented by his pale, flawless skin. He wore a well-fitted black suit that contrasted sharply with his delicate features, his face a mixture of grief and resolve.

Arthur could only stare as the omega spoke to the person in front of him. When it was their turn, he found himself rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from the man. He watched as the omega spoke to Uther, his voice soft and filled with gratitude. Morgana and Ygraine both noticed Arthur's fixation on Hunith’s son, exchanging a glance as Arthur continued to stare.

Ygraine, watching the situation from her position beside Hunith, felt a flush of embarrassment. She shot Arthur a pointed look, silently urging him to compose himself. Arthur, however, remained oblivious, lost in his thoughts.

Arthur's mind wandered, visualizing a future with the man as his husband. He saw them standing in the very same church, exchanging vows and rings under the warm light of the stained glass windows. The omega's eyes glistened with tears of joy, his delicate fingers trembling slightly as Arthur slipped the ring onto his hand. He imagined them cooking together in a cozy kitchen, the omega's laughter ringing out as Arthur playfully dabbed flour on his nose, his fae-like features lighting up with delight.

Arthur envisioned holding their newborn child, the omega smiling at him from the hospital bed, his face glowing with exhaustion and happiness. He pictured the tender kiss he would place on the man’s forehead, a silent promise of love and devotion. He saw them sending their child off to school, their hands intertwined as they waved goodbye. He imagined attending their child's wedding, feeling a swell of pride and joy as they watched their child start their own family. Finally, he saw himself and the omega spending time with their grandchildren, unwrapping presents under a twinkling Christmas tree, their lives intertwined with love and shared memories. The visions culminated in a scene of his own funeral, with the omega lovingly caressing his face, tears streaming down his cheeks.

The sudden realization brought Arthur back to the present. He quickly offered his condolences to the omega, who nodded appreciatively as Morgana dragged him away. Ygraine watched the interaction, her concern for Arthur growing. Just then, Hunith fainted from exhaustion, collapsing into Ygraine's arms.

The room erupted in a flurry of activity as people rushed to help. Arthur, shaken from his reverie, heard his mother call out to him.

"Arthur! Come help, quickly!"

Arthur moved to assist his mother and Hunith, the vision of his future with the omega still vivid in his mind. As he gently helped Ygraine support Hunith, he couldn't shake the image of Merlin from his thoughts, the feeling that this was the love of his life lingering within him.

Chapter Text

The sterile smell of antiseptic hung in the air as Merlin paced the hospital hallway, anxiety knotting his stomach. His mother, Hunith, lay in a nearby room, her condition uncertain. Balinor, his father, was speaking to the doctor, his face a mask of barely contained fury.

As Balinor approached, Merlin quickly stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. "What did the doctor say?"

Balinor's expression was grim. "The doctor mentioned an angiogram and possibly more procedures for her heart. I told her to take care of herself, but she never listened." His voice rose in anger, his frustration palpable. "The entire treatment will cost around $40,000. Where am I supposed to get that kind of money? How much do you have?"

"I have... I have..." Merlin stammered.

"How much?" Balinor pressed.

Merlin hesitated, his throat tightening. "I... I don't have any."

Balinor's eyes widened in disbelief. "What do you mean? What happened to the money you should have earned in the four years you spent in London?"

Merlin looked down, unable to meet his father's piercing gaze. He felt the weight of his lies crushing him, his dreams seeming more distant than ever. "I... I spent it on rent and living expenses."

Balinor swore under his breath, turning away in frustration.

Uther stepped forward, addressing Balinor directly. "It's fine, Balinor. We'll loan the money to you instead. After all, you helped out when our business was failing."

Balinor hesitated, clearly torn.

"It's fine," Uther reassured him.

Arthur immediately left the hospital, heading straight to the bank. He quickly withdrew the necessary amount, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on him. Returning to the hospital, he found his father and handed the money to Uther, who then passed it to Balinor.

"Here," Uther said, pressing the money into Balinor's hands. "We hope everything will be fine."

Balinor looked at the money, then at Uther and Arthur, gratitude and relief mixing with his concern. "Thank you. Truly, thank you."

Uther's nod was firm, his expression resolute. "It's the least we can offer."

Turning back to Ygraine, who stood a distance away, he observed her intense gaze fixed on Merlin. The lad sat in a chair, his fingers restless as they toyed with each other, his gaze anchored to the floor. Uther approached quietly, remarking in a soft tone, "You'll drill holes into the poor kid if you keep staring like that."

Ygraine motioned him closer, urgency dripping from her hushed whisper. "Come here, quickly. Have you seen Hunith's son? He's positively stunning. Perhaps a match for Arthur?"

"Another one of your schemes, Ygraine?" Uther sighed, rubbing his temples wearily.

"No, listen here, you oblivious creature. Arthur has been acting weird ever since he saw Hunith's son. He's been acting like he's enchanted. I think he likes him. What say you?" Ygraine persisted.

"We could consider the idea, but..." Uther began.

Meanwhile, Arthur's conversation with Leon unfolded over the phone. "Assure the shareholders that the new plans won't disrupt stock prices. If they're concerned, we can initiate a trial phase first."

"Understood," Leon confirmed.

"Leon, wait, wait. I think I've fallen in love."

"What do you mean?" Leon asked.

Arthur glanced back towards the room, ensuring privacy before confiding, "I saw this omega today. and he's... he's so captivating. He's got this striking presence, these blue eyes that just draw you in, and this aura about him that's... spellbinding. I felt like I saw our entire future together in a flash. I know it sounds crazy, but I really think I'm in love.

"How can we propose when Arthur must at least be 10 years older than him?" Uther questioned.

"Why would that be a problem? There are even 25-year-olds marrying 40-year-olds. Times have changed, keep up, old man."

"Times have not changed much, Arthur. Some kids refer to those older by four years as 'uncle.' He might even address you as great grandpa," Leon teased Arthur.

"Didn't Leslie Pritchett and Tammy Lester get married with a 16-year difference between them? Why does it matter?" Arthur countered.

"They are actors. You're not one as much as you'd like to be Romeo," Leon retorted.

Uther sighed. "It would be weird if we propose right after loaning them money. It won't be nice. Let some time pass, then we'll ask. Let's consult Arthur first."

"I have to go, I'll call you later, Leon"

"Arthur," Ygraine beckoned as he returned. "Do you know Merlin?"

"Merlin… Merlin, who?" Arthur acted wonderfully oblivious.

"Oi, he's saying he doesn't even know who Merlin is, and you're talking about getting them married. It's nothing, Arthur," Uther interjected.

"Ah, you mean THIS Merlin. Of course, I know him," Arthur hastily corrected.

"Do you or don't you, son?" Uther asked, bemused.

"I do," came a sheepish answer.

"You know what, Uther? Let's not proceed. It’s fine, " Ygraine proclaimed.

“Wait, what, why not?" Arthur demanded.

"Didn't you insist on marrying for love and avoiding our meddling? This isn't love, is it?" Ygraine replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"Mum..." Arthur started, his demeanour suddenly bashful, eyes darting to the ground, cheeks tinted pink. He shuffled his feet, hands buried in his pockets, sneaking glances at Merlin, his voice a blend of sheepishness and excitement.

"What are you doing with your feet? What is this? " Morgana chimed in out of nowhere. "Oh, I know. My brother is feeling shy."

"Oh," their parents mumbled.

“I feel it,” Arthur said.

"Feel what?" Uther asked.

"You know, that feeling you had with Melissa and Mum had with Ad—" Arthur began.

"Okay, okay, I get it. We'll propose to them. Let's go, Ygraine," Uther interrupted.

"Thanks, Dad," Arthur said, relief and excitement mingling in his voice.

As they departed, Arthur found himself once more entranced by Merlin, who appeared tense, fingers fidgeting as they danced nervously, his gaze still anchored to the floor.

Morgana stood by, silently observing Arthur's lovesick demeanour with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. She watched as his usual confidence seemed to melt away, replaced by a charming vulnerability that she rarely witnessed in her brother. There was something endearing about the way he stole glances at Merlin, his cheeks flushing with a delicate shade of pink. It was a side of Arthur that she hadn't seen before, and it intrigued her. Morgana couldn't help but wonder what the future held for the two of them.

Chapter Text

The sterile smell of tablets hung heavy in the air as Merlin carefully handed his mother, Hunith, her tablets. "These are for your heart, Mum," he explained, his voice gentle but strained. "Take one in the morning and another before bed."

Hunith nodded, her eyes weary but grateful. Merlin’s heart ached seeing her like this. He felt a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Seeing Gwaine's name, he rushed to the terrace, the rain starting to fall around him.

"Merlin, listen! Great news!" Gwaine's voice crackled with excitement. "Mate, a director I interned with is looking for a new actor and he’s asked you for an audition! Be at Pineapple Dance Studios by 10 AM tomorrow. You’ll need to catch the night train."

Merlin's heart leapt with a mix of excitement and disbelief. "Gwaine, that's incredible! Mum is feeling much better as well, I'll be there, thank you!" Gwaine added a reminder to buy cheese, making Merlin laugh despite the urgency. The rain picked up, soaking him as he dashed back inside.

He packed his bag quickly, his hands trembling with excitement and fear. Rushing to his mother’s side, he said, "Mum, I need to leave for work. Please, don’t forget your medicine and take care of yourself."

Just as he was about to leave, his father, Balinor, appeared, his face a thunderstorm of suspicion. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

Merlin’s heart pounded in his chest, feeling trapped under his father's intense gaze. "There’s a sudden emergency at work. I have to go."

"Call the office," Balinor ordered, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Merlin froze, his mind racing for an excuse. Balinor, then pulled out his phone and showed Hunith a video of Merlin's latest role as a secretary in a TV show. Fury erupted in his eyes. "Is this how you raise our son? Letting him become an actor?"

Merlin tried to step in, but Balinor slapped him, grabbing his face roughly. "Were you planning to ruin our family’s reputation by joining the entertainment industry? Partying with producers for work?"

Before Merlin could respond, a call from Arthur’s parents interrupted. Balinor’s tone shifted to a forced calm. "That sounds good. Thank you. We’ll talk later." He turned back to Hunith, his anger still simmering. "You need to be healthy because your son’s wedding is next week."

Flashback: Balinor met with Ygraine and Uther at their hotel. The elegant setting added an air of importance to their conversation. They sat in plush chairs, a coffee table between them laden with tea and biscuits.

"Thank you so much for meeting with us, Balinor," Ygraine began, her smile warm. "We wanted to discuss the marriage proposal for Arthur and Merlin."

Balinor nodded, his expression serious but hopeful. "Our family feels truly blessed by this proposal. Arthur is an exceptional young man, and we are honored by the match."

Uther smiled, relief evident in his eyes.

Balinor then leaned forward, his eyes earnest. "We believe this union will be beneficial for both our families. We were thinking of having the wedding as soon as possible on the next auspicious pagan date which is one next week, Thursday. It’s a tradition that holds significant meaning for us."

Ygraine’s eyes twinkled with approval. "Perfect. We will start making the arrangements immediately."

The three of them shook hands, sealing the agreement with mutual respect and anticipation.

Back in London, Arthur's phone buzzed. Seeing his mother's name, he answered eagerly. "Mum, what's up?"

"Arthur, we have wonderful news," Ygraine's voice was warm. "We spoke with Balinor, and they are happy with the proposal. They agreed to have the wedding on the next auspicious pagan date, which is next week."

Arthur's face lit up, a broad smile spreading across his features. "Next week? That’s amazing! Thank you so much!" He could barely contain his joy, pacing around his office. His heart felt light, and the thought of marrying Merlin filled him with immense happiness. Every fiber of his being buzzed with excitement, imagining their future together. The anticipation was almost unbearable, his mind racing with visions of their life ahead.

Merlin sat in his room, stunned and heartbroken. The weight of his father's words crushed him, making it hard to breathe. The next day, relatives arrived, bustling around with excitement, adorning Merlin with gold and diamond jewelry, picking out his clothes for the engagement. The house buzzed with joy, but Merlin felt like he was drowning. He didn't even force a smile for the sake of his family, he was numb inside, trapped and suffocated.

At the engagement party, the room was decorated with flowers and twinkling lights. Arthur couldn’t take his eyes off Merlin, who stood stiffly with his family, trying and failing to smile. Arthur’s heart swelled with happiness, completely enchanted by Merlin’s presence. The way Merlin’s eyes avoided his gaze, the subtle blush on his cheeks – everything about him drew Arthur in deeper.

The following days passed in a blur for Merlin. He felt like he was in a daze, going through the motions as his relatives fussed over every detail. His heart was heavy with dread, each passing hour bringing him closer to the inevitable wedding. He felt like he was on a runaway train, unable to stop or change directions.

Arthur, on the other hand, was brimming with excitement. He couldn't wait to start his life with Merlin. He imagined all the wonderful things they would do together, the life they would build. His heart was filled with love and anticipation, and he counted down the days with a joyful impatience. The happiness he felt was almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to Merlin's growing despair.

The wedding day arrived, and the venue was a vision of beauty. Floral arrangements adorned the hall, and the soft glow of candles added a touch of magic. Arthur, dressed in a sharp wedding suit, led a jubilant procession with his family and friends. His heart was light, his smile radiant, and he felt like he was floating on air. The joy in his eyes was evident, his excitement palpable to everyone around him.

Merlin, however, felt like he was walking to his doom. He was tense and rigid as he walked to the altar, his eyes fixed on the floor. The weight of the situation pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. He felt like he was suffocating, each step heavier than the last. The ornate decorations and joyful atmosphere felt like a cruel joke.

Arthur shyly glanced at Merlin, his heart pounding with joy. The sight of Merlin, beautiful and ethereal in a black suit with a simple diamond necklace with a small royal blue pendant adorning his neck, a striking resemblance to Merlin's eyes, made Arthur's heart race with love. They performed the pagan handfasting ritual, binding their hands with a ribbon symbolizing their union. The soft chant of blessings filled the air, the ribbon winding around their hands felt like a sacred promise.

They exchanged rings, Arthur holding onto Merlin’s hands, not wanting to let go. The weight of the gold bands seemed to symbolize more than just their union; it was the binding of their souls.

But Merlin pulled away, tears streaming down his face, dripping onto Arthur’s hands. The tears were hot, and they seared Arthur's skin like a brand. Arthur's joy turned to sorrow as he realized Merlin might not have shared his happiness for the wedding. The heartbreak was immediate and profound, like a knife to his chest. He turned to face the guests, his expression falling from elation to profound sadness, his heart breaking for the love that suddenly seemed so far away. The celebration around him felt like a mockery of his own shattered dreams, and the weight of the situation crashed down on him with brutal clarity.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure he cried?" Leon asked, his brow furrowed in concern, his tone hushed.

"Of course, I'm sure. I felt his tears drip onto my hand, Leon!" Arthur cried, his voice filled with frustration and helplessness. His eyes were wide and sincere, pleading for his friend's understanding.

"Maybe the situation just started to hit him, I think he just needs some time," Leon suggested gently, trying to find a reasonable explanation. His hand rested on Arthur's shoulder in a comforting gesture.

"Yeah, maybe... Maybe he just needs some time to get used to it," Arthur conceded, though doubt lingered in his eyes. He ran a hand through his hair, his anxiety apparent.

Around them, people bustled, helping Arthur and Merlin pack their luggage into the car. Leon and Arthur stood off to the side, deep in their conversation, while Merlin stood with his parents. His relatives spoke to him, but he only nodded absently, his eyes distant and unfocused.

Ygraine's voice broke through the murmur of voices, calling both Merlin and Arthur. "Your luggage is packed; it's time to leave," she announced with a warm smile.

The couple received blessings from both families, but Merlin barely acknowledged them. As soon as the blessings were over, he headed straight for the car, not sparing a glance behind him. Arthur watched him go, a pang of sorrow in his chest. Arthur turned back to both parents, forcing a smile to mask the turmoil inside him. He straightened his posture, trying to project confidence and assurance despite the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

"I'll take good care of him. I promise you, I'll do everything in my power to make him happy." Arthur said to Merlin’s parents, his voice steady but his eyes betraying his inner conflict.

Hunith, with tears brimming in her eyes, reached out and squeezed Arthur's hand. "Thank you, Arthur. We trust you. We know you'll be a good husband to him."

Balinor gave a curt nod, his face stern but softening slightly. "See that you do. He means the world to us."

Arthur swallowed hard, nodding in return. "I understand. You have my word."

Just then, Ygraine stepped forward and enveloped Arthur in a warm hug. "Arthur, remember that building a life together is a journey," she said softly. "Cherish every moment."

Arthur hugged her back, feeling a wave of emotion wash over him. "Thank you, Mother. "

With a final glance at his parents, Arthur turned and boarded the vehicle, his heart heavy with the weight of their expectations and the reality of Merlin’s cold demeanour. The door closed behind him with a sense of finality, and the car began to move, leaving behind the comforting familiarity of family and stepping into an uncertain future.

Inside the car, Merlin sat rigidly, refusing to look at Arthur, who sat next to him. His eyes were fixed on the passing scenery outside, but his mind was far away, swirling with a storm of conflicting emotions. Memories of the dreams he and his friends once had flooded his thoughts. "But we can't give up. We just have to keep pushing, keep trying," and "To dreams and determination." The echoes of their voices mingled with Gwaine's haunting words, "Maybe one day Balinor will realize his son's more than just an obedient omega," which played on a relentless loop in his mind.

Merlin's hands clenched and unclenched on his lap, his nails digging into his palms. His chest felt tight, every breath a struggle against the rising tide of frustration and hopelessness. His vision blurred momentarily as he furiously wiped away the tears that had betrayed his composure. Each tear that fell seemed to mock him, a testament to the vulnerability he despised showing.

Arthur sat beside him, his heart aching at the sight of Merlin's distress. He wanted to reach out, to offer some comfort, but he felt paralyzed by the fear of making things worse. He watched Merlin with an array of sadness and helplessness, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. The memory of his conversation with his parents played in his mind, the words now tinged with a bitter irony. "You all have fallen in love when you were supposed to fall in love, but I... I just slaved away my time. I just want to fall in love with someone, to go eat ice cream with them at 2 am, to hold them when they get cold, to share in their sorrow and happiness."

As the car approached Camden, Arthur's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden stop. The door opened, and Merlin immediately got out and moved to the front seat. Arthur watched in confusion as Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen squeezed into the back seat beside him.

"What are you doing? Who are you?" Arthur asked, his voice edged with bewilderment.

"Hello, we are Merlin's friends. This is Lancelot, Gwen, and I'm Gwaine. We're going to be living together! Man, I hope the fridge is stocked with beer. I CANNOT live without beer, you get me, right?" Gwaine said, his casual tone contrasting sharply with the tension in the car.

Gwaine grinned broadly. "Hello, we are Merlin's friends. This is Lancelot, Gwen, and I'm Gwaine. We're going to be living together! Man, I hope the fridge is stocked with beer. I CANNOT live without beer, you get me, right?"

Arthur looked to Merlin in the front for answers, but Merlin just looked ahead, his expression stony and unreadable. Gwaine then continued, "Oh, did Merlin not tell you? We're here to protect him. What if you're a psycho person who does something to Merlin at night? We have to make sure that you're a good person."

Arthur sat there speechless, no idea on how to react.

After a few more miles, they arrived at the house, a beautiful red-brick building with ivy climbing up the walls and a terrace overlooking the garden. Merlin got out of the car and started rushing towards the house. Arthur clumsily made his way out of the car, nearly toppling over Gwaine. He quickly rushed to Merlin and explained, "I got a house just as you wanted: a house in Camden, quiet and big. I already moved your things inside. Please, don't be angry. I just wanted to surprise you."

Merlin listened to all of this without saying a word, staring at the ground angrily. Arthur opened the door to the house and suggested they go in holding hands as a couple, but Merlin just stormed off alone into the house.

Inside, Merlin glanced around the spacious interior with a mixture of indifference and suppressed anger. The living room was cozy with its wall-to-wall bookshelves filled with books, the furniture arranged invitingly around a fireplace. The open kitchen and dining space were modern and well-equipped, everything meticulously arranged.

Arthur followed Merlin, his eyes never leaving him. "This is the living room," Arthur began, his voice tinged with nervous excitement. "I thought you might like the bookshelves. You mentioned once you loved reading."

Merlin gave a noncommittal grunt, his eyes barely registering the surroundings. Arthur's heart ached at the lack of response, but he continued, leading Merlin upstairs.

"This will be the bedroom we'll be using," Arthur said, blushing slightly as he opened the door to reveal the room adorned in honeymoon decorations—rose hearts and swan towels arranged meticulously on the bed.

Merlin stopped short, staring at the display for a long moment. Without a word, he stormed into the room, his movements angry and abrupt. He started tearing apart the decorations, flinging the rose petals and swan towels onto the floor. The delicate setup was destroyed in seconds, the room now a chaotic mess.

Arthur stood in the doorway, his heart breaking as he watched Merlin’s rage. "Merlin, please—" he began, but his words were cut off as Merlin grabbed a pillow from the bed and hurled it out the door. The pillow landed at Arthur's feet with a soft thud, a stark symbol of Merlin’s rejection.

Arthur stood there for a moment, staring at the pillow, feeling the weight of rejection settle over him like a suffocating blanket. The door slammed shut in his face, cutting him off completely. He looked down at the pillow, his chest tightening with an assortment of sadness and helplessness.

The chauffeur carried in Arthur's luggage and handed him the car key. Arthur took it with a heavy sigh. "Don't tell my parents,” He instructed quietly, his voice devoid of its usual strength.

Arthur carried his luggage and pillow and moved into an unfurnished room adjacent to Merlin's room. He slid down to the floor, clutching the pillow, his mind a turbulent storm of confusion and despair. As night fell, the sounds of music and laughter drifted up from the living room. Curiosity and dread drove him to investigate.

He stepped out to find the living room transformed into a lively party scene. Music blared, and people crowded the space, drinks in hand. Arthur’s eyes were drawn to the centre of the room where Merlin, in a revealing black dress with cut-outs that exposed more skin than it covered, was dancing and drinking heavily, a wild smile on his face, surrounded by friends.

Arthur's breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding in shock and dismay. He turned and fled, his face etched with confusion. He grabbed his phone and dialled Leon’s number, his hands shaking.

"Leon... Leon, Merlin is a completely different person here," Arthur stammered, his voice trembling.

"What do you mean different?" Leon's concerned voice crackled through the phone.

"I-I don't even know," Arthur replied, his eyes wide with disbelief as he glanced back towards the party, where Merlin was lost in the crowd, smiling and carefree.

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Merlin had retreated to his secret spot, a hidden nook in the attic of his family’s home, where he felt safe enough to call his friends without being overheard. He sent them a photo of Arthur, his future husband, and then dialled their numbers with shaking hands.

"Hello? Hello, Merlin?" Gwen’s voice came through, tinged with concern. Gwaine and Lancelot hovering around her, just as anxious about Merlin.

"Hello, look, I don't have a lot of time so don't say anything and just listen. I'm thinking about running away from home," Merlin said urgently, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't do anything stupid. Where are you going to go after running away? Will you run away for eternity?" Gwen scolded, her tone stern but worried.

"So, am I just supposed to get married? I would rather hang myself. Wait, no, I can't die, I need to become a big actor," Merlin countered, his frustration bubbling over.

"Listen here, I think you should just marry him," Gwen said, her voice taking on a calming, reasoning tone.

"I shouldn't have asked you, Gwaine would have a better idea," Merlin replied, deadpanned.

Before Gwaine could cut in, Gwen continued, "Wait, wait, just listen. Your parents won't allow you to make it big as an actor and come back to Camden, right?"

"Of course," Merlin replied, a sense of defeat creeping into his voice.

"I saw the picture you sent. He looks fairly innocent. If we can't cheat your dad, we can cheat this guy," Gwen suggested, a hint of mischievousness in his voice.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Merlin asked, confused and desperate.

"Listen very carefully to what I'm going to say. When the celebrant asks if everyone is okay with the arrangement at the engagement party, raise your hand and tell them that you want to talk to him alone. Tell him that you've studied and worked all in Camden and that you can't bear to be apart from that place. You only want to live in Camden after marrying, and if he's okay with all this, say that you're okay with the marriage proposal," Gwen explained.

On the day of the of the engagement, as the celebrant asked if there were any objections to the engagement, Merlin’s hand shot up. The guests murmured in surprise, and Arthur’s eyes widened in shock.

"I need to talk to Arthur alone," Merlin said, his voice shaking slightly. The celebrant nodded, and the couple stepped aside, away from the prying eyes of their families and friends.

"I've studied and worked all my life in Camden," Merlin said urgently, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't bear to be apart from that place. I only want to live in Camden after marrying. If you're okay with all this, then I'm okay with the engagement proposal."

Arthur, looking at Merlin with sincere eyes, nodded. "It's no problem for me. It's still close to the City of London. I just want you to be happy," Arthur replied, his voice filled with genuine care.

Merlin exhaled a shaky breath, his tension easing slightly. "Thank you," he said, his voice barely audible. They returned to the celebrant, and the exchange of engagement rings continued, the moment solemn and filled with unspoken promises.

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The present returned with a harsh clarity as Merlin, lost in his thoughts, looked down at the engagement and wedding rings on his finger, a stark reminder of the life he felt trapped in. In a sudden, defiant act, he yanked them off and threw them onto the floor, the clinking sound barely audible over the music. Everything went black as he stumbled, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of emotions.

Merlin woke up on a couch, the room spinning slightly. His friends were sprawled out around him, the remnants of the wild party evident in the scattered bottles and discarded clothes. The smell of breakfast wafted through the air, pulling him out of his stupor. He grimaced as he saw Arthur in the kitchen, diligently preparing food, grinding juices, and chopping vegetables.

Just then Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen slowly began to wake up, groaning and accusing Merlin of being noisy. Merlin just grunted and pointed in Arthur's direction.

The four of them just stared at Arthur in disbelief. Gwaine whispered angrily and tensely, his frustration palpable. "What is wrong with him? I thought after yesterday, the man would distance himself or something, but he's acting... normally!" His eyes were wide with disbelief.

Lancelot, noticing Arthur's approach, quickly jabbed Gwaine in the ribs, a silent warning to lower his voice. The sudden gesture made Gwaine wince, but he understood the message, his expression shifting to one of reluctant silence as Arthur drew near, tray in hand.

Arthur approached, holding a tray full of cups, his face full of earnest concern. "Do you feel like bursting into flames?" He asked, then quickly added, "Oh, I didn't mean it that way, please excuse me. I just meant that your body must be throbbing in pain and is all sweaty and hot. Since you guys drank too much, I figured you would have a hangover, so I prepared some hangover juices for you."

Lancelot and Gwen eagerly reached for the drinks, their hands trembling slightly from the aftereffects of the previous night's excess. Lancelot's eyes lit up as he took a tentative sip, the cool, tangy flavour immediately soothing his parched throat. Gwen, equally appreciative, closed her eyes in gratitude as she drank, a contented sigh escaping her lips.

Meanwhile, Merlin stood a few steps away, his posture rigid and his eyes narrowed with anger. His gaze flicked between his friends and Arthur, the sight of them accepting Arthur's kindness only fuelling his resentment. His lips pressed into a thin line, and his fists clenched at his sides.

Arthur approached Merlin with one of the drinks, his expression hopeful. "Merlin, would you like some too? It should help with—"

Before Arthur could finish, Merlin turned sharply on his heel and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the hallway. He didn't spare a glance back, his refusal clear and unspoken. Arthur stood there for a moment, the drink still extended, his hope crumbling into disappointment. The rejection stung, but he quickly composed himself, turning his attention back to the others with a forced smile.

"You should get refreshed. I turned on the boiler. We can eat breakfast afterwards," Arthur said, trying to keep his tone cheerful.

"He's a good man," Lancelot whispered.

After showering and getting ready, Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen made their way to the kitchen, their curiosity piqued by the delicious aromas wafting through the house. As they entered, they were taken aback by the sight before them. The kitchen table was laden with an impressive breakfast spread, clearly prepared with care and attention to detail.

On one side of the table, there was a platter of freshly baked scones, their golden crusts glistening invitingly. Next to them were fluffy, perfectly scrambled eggs, lightly seasoned and garnished with a sprinkle of chives. A basket filled with warm, buttery croissants sat nearby, their flaky layers promising a delightful crunch with every bite.

The scent of the croissants, mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, filled the kitchen, making it impossible to resist the breakfast spread.

"Sit down, please," Arthur urged them with a warm smile. "Help yourselves. There's plenty for everyone."

Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen exchanged astonished glances before eagerly taking their seats. They reached for the food, their initial hesitation quickly giving way to ravenous hunger. Gwaine silently took a scone, his eyes widening in delight as he tasted the buttery, flaky pastry. Lancelot and Gwen eagerly dug into the scrambled eggs and croissants, savouring each bite.

As they ate, the atmosphere in the kitchen grew more relaxed, the delicious food momentarily easing the tension from the previous night's events. Merlin appeared in the doorway, ready to leave, and found his friends at the table, eating ravenously. Gwen choked under Merlin's intense gaze, and as Arthur went to help her, Gwen said, "It's okay, Sir. He'll kill us."

Merlin then gathered the three of them separately and hissed furiously, "I don't understand what is going on here?"

Lancelot replied, "I mean, it's been so long since we had proper food, we were..." and he trailed off, clearly uncomfortable under Merlin's burning stare.

Gwen added eagerly, "He said he'll make crepes for us tomorrow morning."

Merlin's eyes narrowed. "I thought you said that you all would make sure that he won't come near me at all," he continued, his voice taut with barely suppressed rage, clenching his jaw.

Lancelot said, "And we will, right after we get energized."

Merlin sighed, exasperated. "It seems more like he will use you to get to me. First, leave the house."

The three of them protested but reluctantly complied, carrying their luggage to the door. Gwen and Lancelot waved back to Arthur and got a promise that Arthur would make them some crepes.

Merlin also got ready to leave with his gang, turning to glare at Arthur before stepping out, but Arthur stopped him. "Merlin, just one moment please," he pleaded, his voice filled with a desperate hope. Merlin stopped, his back rigid.

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "Ever since the wedding, or even at the wedding, you were not pleased, and I understand that you're unhappy. If there is a problem, I'll do my best to change anything you want. Just tell me, and I'll—"

Merlin exploded, the dam of his emotions breaking. "This marriage is my problem! I never wanted to get married!" His voice cracked with the intensity of his feelings. "My dream is to become a successful actor. I didn't know how else to escape my father, so I resorted to this." His eyes shone with unshed tears. "I know that what I did was a big mistake, and I can't ruin your life too, so let's just get a divorce." With a deep breath, Merlin turned away.

Arthur stood there, rooted to the spot, watching as Merlin walked out. The door closed with a finality that echoed through the now-empty house.

Chapter Text

Somewhere in Fitzrovia, a set was crafted to resemble a cozy, intimate café. Warm, ambient lighting cast a golden glow over the wooden tables and cushioned chairs, creating a welcoming atmosphere. In the background, a barista station equipped with an espresso machine and various coffee-making tools added an authentic touch. Potted plants and shelves lined with glass jars of coffee beans further enhanced the homely feel. Gwen stormed up to Merlin on the set of a coffee commercial, her eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you insane, Merlin?" Gwen hissed, her voice low but intense, the anger barely contained. "Why would you ask for a divorce? If Arthur talks to Balinor, you'll be the one to suffer!"

Merlin sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration. "Look, I've thought it through," he said, his tone resolute but weary. "I couldn't even stand his good husband act for one day. If there are issues, I'll handle them myself." He paused, looking around the bustling set. "By the way, do you remember how much I am getting paid for this?"

Gwen's eyes narrowed, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Fine, do it your way and you said last time that since you aren't a union actor, they're only paying you $550."

"Shit, I need $600," Merlin replied flatly, his voice devoid of emotion, completely ignoring Gwen’s other point. Before Gwen could respond, the director called him over.

"Merlin, over here!" the director shouted, his voice echoing across the set. Merlin walked toward the scene, where the director, a tall man with a booming voice and a clipboard in hand, stood next to a camera crew. The cameramen adjusted their equipment, the bright lights reflecting off their lenses.

"Alright, Merlin," the director began, his tone professional yet encouraging. "In this scene, you're enjoying a quiet moment with your partner, sharing a cup of coffee. We want it to feel genuine and warm, like you're savouring the taste and the company. Understand?"

Merlin nodded, his face a mask of concentration. "Got it."

The director continued, gesturing to the other actor, a young man with a friendly smile. "You'll be sitting here, next to Edmond. Just follow his lead and make it look natural."

As Merlin took his place at the small, round table, the crew adjusted the lighting to highlight the rich, dark tones of the coffee and the inviting ambiance of the café. A prop barista behind the counter pretended to make espresso, adding to the authenticity of the scene. Edmond smiled warmly at Merlin, his eyes sparkling as he lifted a cup of coffee to his lips.

"Action!" the director called out, and the set fell into a hushed silence.

Merlin and Edmond exchanged a few scripted lines, their conversation light and easy, filled with laughter and subtle glances. Merlin picked up his coffee cup, the rich aroma wafting up to his nose, and took a sip, closing his eyes briefly to savour the taste. As he opened his eyes, Edmond reached across the table, touching his hand lightly. In that moment, Merlin's mind played a cruel trick on him—he saw Arthur's face instead of Edmond's. The shock of the vision made him scream, pulling his hand away abruptly.

Edmond jerked back, his eyes wide with surprise. The director frowned and walked over. "Merlin, are you alright?" he asked, his voice a mix of concern and irritation.

Merlin looked at Edmond, still in shock, checking him over to make sure it truly wasn’t Arthur before managing to say, "Everything's fine. Let's go again."

They restarted the scene, but the same thing happened two more times. Each time, Merlin saw Arthur's face instead of Edmond's, and each time, he reacted with a startled scream. The director's patience wore thin.

"Cut! That's enough!" the director shouted, his face red with frustration. "I need someone who can actually complete a scene!"

Merlin sat there, his face flushed with embarrassment and anger. The director called for another actor to replace Merlin.

Meanwhile, Arthur sat alone at the dining table, Merlin's words echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. His fingers traced the edge of the empty plate before him, the food untouched. The doorbell rang, jarring him from his thoughts. He stood slowly, almost reluctantly, and opened the door to find Leon and Morgana standing together.

"You told Morgana?" Arthur's voice was a mix of disbelief and frustration. "I told you that in confidence, Leon. Morgana cannot keep secrets."

"Hey, I can," Morgana shot back, her tone defensive, crossing her arms over her chest.

Leon remained calm, his voice steady. "Arthur, someone from your family needed to know, and Morgana was the best option."

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand over his face. The weight of the situation pressed down on him. Morgana, unable to contain her frustration, blurted out, "I don't understand. I thought he was okay with the marriage proposal. He better watch it. If I get my hands on him—"

"Morgana," Arthur chided gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down."

Morgana huffed, but fell silent, crossing her arms tighter. Leon stepped in, trying to ease the tension. "He said that he saw no other options to get away from his dad. Frankly, I feel sad for him."

"Sad?" Morgana and Leon echoed in disbelief, their eyes wide with shock.

Arthur's eyes softened as he spoke, his voice filled with a mix of empathy and sorrow. "If you had seen him just now, the way he was standing there, defeated. You could tell that no one from his family was there to support him or his dreams. He really seemed like he had no other way. Yes, I was angry with him, but the fact that he didn't want to hold me down as well showed his true heart."

Morgana leaned closer to Leon and whispered, "I'm pretty sure he went insane."

"Arthur, he asked for a divorce. He tricked you, mate. What are you on?" Leon's voice was filled with concern, his brows furrowed in confusion.

Arthur took a deep breath, his determination clear. "I still have six months. We can only sign the divorce papers after six months. I'm going to use that time to win him over."

Morgana shook her head, her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "Yeap, he went insane," she muttered to Leon, her eyes never leaving Arthur's face, trying to understand his unwavering resolve.

Arthur's frustration boiled over. "Do either of you have any ideas on how to win him over?" he asked, his voice tinged with desperation. Seeing their hesitant expressions, he added, "If you guys can't actually help, then get out of my house."

Morgana and Leon exchanged glances before Morgana spoke, her voice teasing but with a hint of seriousness. "Don't get pissed off so quickly, brother. I don't get many opportunities to make fun of you. Wait, let me think."

After a few moments, Morgana snapped her fingers. "Show me your Instagram profile."

Arthur looked confused. "Instagram? I don't have one."

"Okay, Facebook then," Morgana pressed.

Arthur shook his head. "I don't have Facebook either."

Leon scolded Arthur, "How many times do I have to tell you that as the face and CEO of the company, you should have social media. Even I have Instagram, and I hate it."

Just as Arthur was about to defend himself, Morgana, who had been busy on her phone, suddenly announced, "Got it! Merlin's TikTok account," holding up her phone.

They all gathered around Morgana’s phone, watching Merlin’s skits and acting talents. Arthur watched, completely mesmerized by Merlin’s performances. Each video showcased Merlin's versatility, from comedic bits to dramatic monologues, his expressions vivid and his timing impeccable. It was clear that Merlin had a natural talent for capturing the audience's attention and making them feel.

Suddenly, Morgana had an idea. "Arthur, call Merlin and put it on speaker."

Arthur hesitated. "What am I supposed to say?"

Morgana leaned in, her eyes gleaming with an idea. "Tell him how much you appreciate his acting, how well he acts. I'm pretty sure actors love that sort of stuff—being praised for their acting and all."

Arthur hesitated for a moment before dialling Merlin's number. His heart pounded in his chest, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. The phone rang, and Merlin picked up, his voice edged with caution. "Hello, who is it?"

Arthur's stomach churned with nerves. Leon and Morgana exchanged incredulous looks, realizing Merlin hadn't even saved Arthur's number. Arthur's mind raced, trying to find the right words. Morgana gestured urgently, urging him to speak.

"Hello, this is Arthur speaking," Arthur finally managed, his voice shaky.

Merlin's response was immediate and cold. He hung up without a word. Arthur felt a sharp pang of rejection, his chest tightening with the ache of disappointment. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

Leon and Morgana looked at him, their shock mirrored in their wide eyes. Morgana reached out, her hand a comforting presence on Arthur's shoulder. "We'll figure this out," she said softly, her voice a mixture of determination and empathy. Leon nodded in agreement, his expression one of supportive resolve.

Suddenly, Leon's eyes lit up with an idea. "Arthur, call Merlin again, but this time use your business phone. He might pick up if he doesn't recognize the number."

Morgana quickly added, "And install an AI voice changer. Talk to him as a different person, a diehard fan. Praise his acting, and from there, you can slowly become friends with him. Find out his likes and dislikes and use that knowledge to win him over in real life, as his husband!"

Arthur and Leon were in shock at how cunning Morgana's plan was. Morgana shrugged. "What? It's not my first rodeo."

Arthur, still confused but willing to try anything, dialled Merlin again using his business phone. When Merlin picked up, Arthur took a deep breath. "Hello, who is it?" Merlin asked.

Arthur whispered to Leon and Morgana, "Who am I?"

"Just say a random name," Morgana urged.

Arthur hesitated for a moment before saying, "Hello, I'm Adam, a big fan of yours. I've been following you since that video on TikTok where you acted out how different genre actors would perform in other genres. I even went to watch the play you were in, 'Why Me?,' but I was disappointed you weren't acting in it anymore. In fact, my entire family and I are going to donate to a charity in your name."

Morgana immediately muted the call, whispering urgently, "Why don’t you just tell him you're going to church because of him? Arthur, if you don't play this right, you'll never win him over."

Arthur exhaled slowly before resuming the call. "There's a genuineness in your acting. Whether it's in TikTok videos or a show, it feels like you're actually talking to me. Just watch, you'll become a big star soon, and I'll still be your biggest fan. I really like you a lot and just wanted to tell you this, so I contacted your agency to speak to you. I'm sorry."

Merlin listened silently throughout, then hung up and slipped his phone back into his jeans. Arthur's heart sank as he heard the beep of the disconnected call. "Hello? Hello?" he called out, but there was no response.

Arthur looked at Morgana and Leon, his eyes filled with sadness. His gaze was distant, and the usual spark of determination seemed dimmed by the weight of rejection. "He hung up," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Chapter Text

Arthur sat down, anxiously waiting for Merlin. His heart raced as he heard the door open and saw Merlin walk inside the house. Standing up, Arthur tried to approach him, but Merlin took one look at Arthur, his eyes full of anger and hurt, and stormed off to his room, slamming the door behind him. The sound echoed through the house, leaving Arthur standing there, feeling a deep sense of rejection.

With a heavy sigh, Arthur poured some whiskey into a glass. The amber liquid swirled, catching the light and reflecting his turmoil. Just as he was about to take a sip, his business phone rang, breaking the silence. Seeing Merlin’s name on the caller ID, Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He put down the glass immediately, the clink of the glass against the table loud in the quiet room. He rushed to Merlin's half-shut door, where he saw Merlin on the phone, nervously pacing and waiting for someone to answer. Arthur’s excitement bubbled up, but he forced himself to stay calm.

Arthur quickly made his way to the terrace, his emotions a whirlwind of hope and anxiety. He jumped around a few times in excitement, unable to contain his joy. He clenched his fists, took a few deep breaths to steady himself, and turned on the AI voice changer. With a final deep breath, he picked up the call.

"Hello? Hello, Adam?" Merlin asked gently, his voice a soothing balm to Arthur's frayed nerves.

"Thank you, thank you so much," Arthur replied, his altered voice filled with genuine gratitude.

"Why are you thanking me?" Merlin asked, puzzled.

"Because you're calling me back. I wasn't expecting it in the slightest," Arthur explained, his voice trembling slightly with relief.

"Actually, I should thank you," Merlin said, walking out of his room and heading to the kitchen for a glass of water. Arthur watched him from the terrace, his heart swelling with admiration. "You really cheered me up with your words. You truly made my day. I needed to hear it quite badly. If I had someone like you to motivate me..." Merlin's voice trailed off, filled with longing.

"What are you talking about? You have me now. I'll be with you," Arthur eagerly said, unable to hide his enthusiasm.

"Huh?" Merlin's voice was filled with confusion, unsure of the sudden personal offer from a supposed fan.

"I meant as your fan. I didn't mean it that way, I'm sorry," Arthur quickly corrected himself, panic rising in his chest. "Whatever I said, I wasn't trying to make you feel better, but it is what I sincerely feel about your acting. It's the truth. Don't be dejected by life's obstacles but instead use them to grow. Whenever things go smoothly, you'll be happy, but it's the difficult times that truly teach you things," Arthur continued, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Thanks once again," Merlin said, smiling, feeling a weight lift off his chest.

"It's okay. Just keep smiling like you are now. That's enough," Arthur said, watching Merlin's smile with a sense of peace and contentment.

"How do you know I'm smiling?" Merlin asked, suddenly suspicious.

"I can hear it. I can hear the smile in your tone. I can imagine your face, that you're smiling," Arthur replied, trying to sound natural.

"You talk very well."

"Then," Arthur hesitated before pulling the trigger, "are we friends from now on?"

Merlin smiled before saying, "Definitely," and hung up, heading back to his room.

"Awesome," Arthur exclaimed, his joy spilling over as he grinned broadly, his whole body vibrating with happiness. He couldn't contain the surge of excitement coursing through him, feeling lighter and more hopeful than he had in a long time.

Over the next few days, Arthur and Merlin's conversations continued to grow in frequency and depth. Each call seemed to bring a new level of connection between them. Arthur's days were brighter, his steps lighter, and Merlin seemed happier and more relaxed. Arthur couldn't help but feel a growing bond between them.

One evening, Arthur sat at the bar, waiting for his takeout dinner before heading back to the office for overtime. The rich, dark wood of the bar and the plush leather stools created an inviting atmosphere. Dim lights cast a warm glow, accentuating the cozy ambiance. The soft murmur of other patrons filled the space, their laughter and low conversations blending into a comforting background hum. The aroma of sizzling food and freshly poured drinks wafted through the air.

Leon stood a few steps away at the counter, settling the bill as their meals were being prepared. Arthur swirled the ice in his glass, his voice, altered by the AI voice changer, maintaining the persona of Adam. "By the way, what would be your ideal weekend winddown?" he asked, aiming for a casual, conversational air despite the flutter of anticipation in his chest.

"Beach!" Merlin replied excitedly, his enthusiasm unmistakable in his voice.

"Ooh, that does sound nice," Arthur said, smiling to himself, imagining Merlin on a sunny day by the sea. He pictured Merlin's hair tousled by the gentle sea breeze, his face lit up with a carefree smile as he ran along the shoreline. The sun would cast a warm, golden glow on his skin, making him look radiant and full of life. Arthur imagined the sound of Merlin's laughter mingling with the rhythmic crash of the waves, and the sight of him collecting seashells or splashing playfully in the surf.

As they chatted, the bartender began preparing a flaming cocktail. The moment the flames leapt up, Arthur's eyes widened in terror. The heat and light triggered an instant, visceral reaction. He backed away quickly, his heart pounding in his chest. His hand knocked over the glass of whiskey, sending it crashing to the floor. The sound of shattering glass mixed with the roar of the flames, and Arthur felt his chest tighten. His breathing became rapid and shallow, panic setting in. His vision blurred as memories of fire from his childhood flooded back—being trapped in a burning library, the heat, the smoke, the fear, and calling out for his friends.

Leon immediately rushed to Arthur's side, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice calm and steady. "I'll get you some water." Meanwhile, Merlin, hearing the commotion over the phone, grew worried.

"Adam, are you okay? What's going on?" Merlin called out, his voice filled with concern.

Arthur, struggling to breathe, put the phone back to his ear. "Fire," he managed to say, his voice barely a whisper, laced with fear and vulnerability.

"Fire?" Merlin's voice was laced with confusion and worry.

"I have a phobia of fire," Arthur replied, his voice cracking before he abruptly ended the call. The phone slipped from his hand as he sank to the floor, the weight of his memories and the present fear overwhelming him.

Chapter Text

The next time they spoke, Merlin asked about his phobia of fire. Arthur, still maintaining his facade as Adam, hesitated. The memory of his panic was still fresh. "I'm not comfortable talking about it," he said softly, his voice tinged with unease. Merlin sensed the discomfort and let it go, though curiosity lingered in his eyes.

Days later, the house buzzed with unexpected energy as Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen barged in, arms laden with decorations, a box, and banners. Gwaine gave Arthur a casual nod, while Lancelot and Gwen greeted him with wide smiles, their excitement evident in their animated movements and bright expressions.

Arthur intercepted Lancelot, curiosity etched across his brow. "What's going on? Why are you carrying all this?" he asked, his gaze drifting over the array of colourful decorations in Lancelot’s hands with a puzzled expression.

"It's Merlin's birthday! We're going to celebrate," Lancelot replied, his grin wide and infectious. He then invited Arthur to join them. The room was buzzing with excitement, but soon, chaos ensued. The cake, once pristine, now sat smudged in its box. The light decorations flickered briefly before giving up completely, and the cannon poppers, intended for the climax, exploded prematurely, scattering confetti everywhere.

Arthur watched their mounting frustration, a small smile playing on his lips. Silently, he slipped away and returned moments later, flicking a switch to reveal the light decorations he had already set up around the house. An LED banner lit up with "Happy Birthday Merlin!" and as Merlin stepped in, eyes wide with surprise, Arthur activated the cannon poppers, filling the room with colourful confetti, painting the air with celebration.

Merlin's face lit up, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. He turned, taking in the twinkling lights and the effort his friends had poured into this surprise. His laughter mingled with the cheerful chatter of Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen. Arthur approached him, holding a bouquet of roses. Merlin's smile faltered for a moment, his eyes flicked from the flowers to Arthur. He nodded curtly, his gaze hardening. Without a word, he turned back to his friends, leaving Arthur standing there, still holding the roses.

Undeterred, Arthur placed the flowers in a vase nearby. He stood back, content to see Merlin animated and joyful, his laughter echoing through the room.

Later that night, the front door creaked open, and Merlin stumbled in, the telltale signs of drunkenness evident in his unsteady gait. He swayed dangerously, his movements erratic as he navigated through the dimly lit living room. The soft glow from a single lamp cast long shadows, highlighting Arthur, who had been waiting anxiously. Concern was etched deeply into Arthur’s features as he watched Merlin’s erratic approach.

Merlin's eyes narrowed into a grimace as he saw Arthur, his expression twisted with irritation. The room seemed to spin around him, the walls closing in. Arthur took a step towards him, his hand outstretched, but Merlin raised a hand, creating an invisible barrier between them. "I don't need your help," he slurred, his voice thick with determination and defiance.

With great effort, Merlin managed to stagger to the sofa and collapsed onto it, his body heavy with exhaustion. Within moments, he was asleep, his breathing deep and uneven. Arthur stood there for a moment watching Merlin on the sofa, his eyes softening with a blend of concern and affection. The quiet room seemed to hold its breath as Arthur approached the sofa, the silence punctuated only by Merlin’s heavy breathing.

Gently, Arthur lifted Merlin, his heart swelling with bittersweet contentment as he carried him to the bedroom. The weight of Merlin in his arms, combined with the scent of alcohol mixed with a faint trace of cologne, filled Arthur's senses and stirred a tempest of emotions within him. He set Merlin down on the bed with the utmost care, his fingers hovering just above Merlin's face, tracing the air above his features, savouring the closeness. The quiet room enveloped them, the silence filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.

One afternoon, Arthur strolled around the terrace with a book in hand, the guise of "Adam" slipping effortlessly into place as he chatted with Merlin over the phone. "What's your favourite food?" he asked, his tone casual yet curious.

Merlin's voice came through the speaker, thoughtful and reflective. "Umm, it's really difficult to choose because I love a good berry tart, but I'd have to go with a mushroom and herb pie."

Determined, Arthur spent the following days immersed in cooking tutorials, his focus unwavering. He carefully prepared the ingredients, mixing fresh herbs with mushrooms, and crafted a golden, flaky crust. The pie, once baked, looked mouth-wateringly delicious, steam rising from its savoury filling.

As the pie cooled, Arthur waited by the kitchen counter, anticipation bubbling within him. When Merlin walked in to get a glass of water, Arthur stepped forward. "Merlin, um, I'm sorry, just one moment. I made some mushroom and herb pie for dinner today. Do you want to try some?"

Merlin’s expression turned icy. "I hate mushrooms," he said sternly, brushing past Arthur and leaving him standing there, stunned and disheartened.

Minutes later, the doorbell rang. Arthur opened it to find an UberEats delivery guy holding a brown bag with Merlin's name on it. Glancing at the receipt, Arthur noted it was for a mushroom and herb pie. An idea sparked. Swiftly, he swapped the restaurant pie with his own, placed the bag back outside, and pressed the doorbell insistently before retreating to the terrace.

From his hiding spot, Arthur watched as Merlin retrieved the bag, brought the pie to the kitchen, and took a bite. Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise. He took another bite, clearly impressed by the flavour, though it tasted slightly different from what he was used to. A small, satisfied smile played on Arthur's lips as he observed Merlin's reaction, the subtle triumph warming him.

On another day, Arthur noticed Merlin happily placing potted marigolds near a sunlit window in his room. The vibrant orange flowers brightened the room, each bloom full and round with layers of ruffled petals. Merlin's face was serene, his movements deliberate as he arranged each pot with care. Arthur watched him for a while, captivated by the peaceful expression on Merlin's face as he admired the flowers. The sight of Merlin's joy, so pure and unguarded, sparked an idea in Arthur's mind. Determined to see that look of contentment more often, he decided to surprise Merlin.

The next day, Arthur spent hours meticulously planting marigolds in the garden. He selected the brightest, most vibrant blooms, arranging them to create a sea of fiery orange. Each flower stood tall, their petals ruffled and full, catching the sunlight and casting a warm glow across the garden. As he planted the last marigold, Arthur stepped back, his hands covered in soil, and smiled at the transformation. He imagined Merlin's reaction and felt a flutter of anticipation.

When Merlin walked through the garden later, the vibrant marigolds went unnoticed. Arthur watched from a distance, his heart sinking as Merlin strolled past the fiery orange blooms without so much as a glance.

One moonlit evening, as Merlin and Arthur talked over the phone, Merlin's voice took on a sombre tone. "You shouldn't have a dream. If you have one, you have to pray that it'll come true soon because there's nothing more torturous than being stuck, running around trying to desperately find ways of making it come true."

Arthur, still pretending to be Adam, replied gently, "There are so many stars in the night sky, and you don't manage to see all of them, but that doesn't mean they don't exist. You're a star, Merlin, and soon enough, everyone will see you. If you want something to happen, you can't believe it 100%. You need to believe it 1000%, and then the universe will come together and help you achieve that dream."

Merlin's expression softened, a small spark of hope igniting in his eyes as he listened to Arthur's words. A faint smile curved his lips, reflecting the tiny flame of optimism that Arthur had kindled within him.

One evening, the cozy warmth of Merlin's house wrapped around Merlin, Lancelot, and Gwen as they lounged in the living room, their laughter filling the space. The soft glow of the fireplace cast flickering shadows on the walls, while the ticking clock on the mantle marked the passing time, their curiosity growing with each minute that Gwaine was delayed.

Suddenly, the front door flew open, and Gwaine stormed in, his face tight with tension. The unexpected entrance silenced the room.

"Why did you ask us to meet you urgently?" Merlin asked, his brow furrowed with worry.

Gwaine's grim expression melted into a wide grin, his eyes dancing with excitement. "A producer likes our story. I showed him your profile, and he wants you to audition!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph.

Merlin sprang to his feet, his heart pounding. He was stunned, yet an unmistakable joy lit up his face. His eyes sparkled with a blend of disbelief and burgeoning hope. Gwen and Lancelot, unable to contain their excitement, enveloped Merlin in hugs, their cheers echoing through the room.

The trio turned to Gwaine, their faces alight with gratitude and excitement, their shared dream suddenly within reach. Merlin, though quiet, felt a warmth spread through his chest. The sight of his friends' genuine happiness and their shared excitement made his heart swell. For the first time, their collective aspirations seemed tangible, the reality of their dreams unfolding before them.

Chapter Text

Arthur stood on the terrace, holding an umbrella as heavy rain pounded around him. The wind whipped the raindrops against his face, and the relentless downpour created a rhythmic drumming on the umbrella's fabric. His phone was pressed to his ear as he spoke to Merlin, still maintaining his facade as Adam. Through the downpour, he watched Merlin exit his room, dressed in a soft pink shirt, its sleeves rolled up, the fabric fitting perfectly against his lean frame. The shirt was tucked into a pair of dark jeans, accentuating his slender waist. He adjusted the collar with one hand, his expression a mix of determination and nervous energy. As he moved towards the living room, Arthur's heart raced. He adjusted his stance, the umbrella swaying slightly with the wind's force, and his grip tightened even more.

"Congrats, I'm really happy for you," Arthur said into his phone, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

"Thanks," Merlin replied, his tone softening.

"Why are you thanking me?" Arthur asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I don't know. Remember that day you said if I wanted something to happen, I needed to believe it 1000%? I did, and now this is all happening," Merlin explained, a hint of amazement in his voice.

Arthur smiled, feeling a swell of pride and affection. As he watched Merlin approach the living room's open area, he noticed a puddle gathering. "Merlin, be careful, there's a puddle!" he said urgently. Realizing his mistake, Arthur muttered, "Oh shit," and quickly moved to a hidden part of the terrace.

Merlin gasped and looked around, eyes wide with suspicion. "Huh?" He scanned the house and the terrace, searching for anyone nearby.

"N-no, you see, it's raining heavily on my side too, and there's water pouring in, so I figured it might be the same at your house," Arthur stammered.

"Hmm. Right, I have to go," Merlin said, suspicion lingering in his tone.

"All the best," Arthur replied, his chest fluttering.

"Thanks." Merlin hung up, and Arthur let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He lightly hit his head with his phone, scrunching his face in frustration at his slip-up. The rain continued to pour, matching the turmoil of his thoughts.

At a crowded bus stop, Gwaine stood sheltered from the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead and his jacket soaked through. The shelter offered little protection from the wind-driven rain that splashed against his legs. His phone rang, its screen lit up with Merlin's name. He answered, trying to keep his voice calm despite the frustration simmering beneath. "Gwaine, where are you? It's already so late," Merlin's voice crackled through the speaker, a mix of worry and impatience.

"Oi, I've been stuck in the rain for about half an hour!" Gwaine exclaimed, shaking water from his hair, his voice slightly muffled and exasperated.

Suddenly, a car key appeared in front of Merlin's face. The metallic glint caught his eye, and he turned to see Arthur holding the keys, his expression earnest. "Do you have somewhere to be urgently? It's raining heavily. It would be better if you went by car. I can drop you off," Arthur offered.

Hearing this, Gwaine said over the phone, "You go first. Don't wait for me. I'll meet you there."

Merlin sighed with resignation, grabbing an umbrella and heading towards the car. The umbrella opened with a soft pop, shielding him from the persistent drizzle that soaked the pavement. As he reached the vehicle, he paused, waiting for Arthur to unlock it. The click of the locks disengaging was barely audible over the rain.

Sliding into the passenger seat, Merlin closed the umbrella and set it aside, droplets of water clinging to his shirt. The car's interior was warm and slightly humid, the windows fogging up from the contrast with the cold outside. They drove off, the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers creating a soothing, repetitive backdrop.

The silence between them was thick, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken thoughts. Arthur was content with the quiet, occasionally stealing glances at Merlin from the corner of his eye. Merlin, meanwhile, was lost in his own world, staring out the rain-streaked window. His eyes followed the raindrops as they meandered down the glass, his mind seemingly miles away, immersed in distant thoughts.

Despite the heavy silence, Arthur felt a strange sense of peace just being near Merlin. He didn't need words; the simple act of being there for Merlin, even in silence, was enough for him.

When they arrived at the destination, Arthur said softly, "I'll wait here," but Merlin got out without a word, heading into the venue. Arthur watched him go, his heart aching with a mix of hope and longing. He didn't mind the lack of acknowledgment; he was happy just to be there for Merlin in any way he could.

While waiting for Merlin, Arthur called both Morgana and Leon. "That's great! Merlin will finally achieve his dream," Leon said, his voice brimming with excitement.

"I don't understand how you can be happy for him. He broke Arthur's heart!" Morgana exclaimed, her tone sharp with indignation. "I don't like him."

"But I like him, so you have too as well. Morgana, it isn't so bad. He might ignore me, but he let me drop him off," Arthur said, trying to soothe her agitation.

"Because he needed a ride!" Morgana retorted, her frustration evident.

"I have to go! He's here." Arthur ended the call abruptly, his heart racing as he spotted Merlin approaching. He quickly drove up to the studio entrance, his heart pounding as he saw Merlin approaching. Merlin's complexion was unusually pale, his skin almost ashen in the dim light. His shoulders slumped forward, and his normally bright eyes were dull, shadows lingering beneath them. As he moved, it was as if a heavy weight was pressing down on him, making each step laborious and slow.

As Merlin settled into the passenger seat, Arthur could see the effort it took for him to hold back his tears, his breath coming in shaky gasps. The sight broke Arthur's heart. He wanted to ask what was wrong, to reach out and offer some comfort, but the lump in his throat held the words back.

A car behind them honked impatiently, snapping Arthur out of his reverie and forcing him to drive off, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. The rain had started again, pattering softly against the windshield, matching the sombre mood inside the car. Arthur desperately wanted to comfort Merlin, to reach out and ease his pain, but he felt helpless, unable to find the right words.

The city lights blurred past them, casting fleeting shadows across Merlin’s face. Arthur noticed every small detail and each sign of Merlin’s distress cut Arthur deeply, leaving him struggling to keep his focus on the road ahead. Arthur’s mind raced, trying to piece together what might have happened to bring Merlin to this state, but all he could do was drive.

As they arrived at the house, Merlin immediately got out of the car, not waiting for Arthur to park. Driven by desperation to ensure Merlin was okay, Arthur parked haphazardly and quickly followed. He found Merlin silently crying as he ran up to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Determined to get to the bottom of it, Arthur ascended the stairs to the terrace, the cool night air brushing against his skin. He pulled out his business phone, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. With a deep breath, he dialled Merlin's number and listened to the faint ring echoing in the quiet.

Inside Merlin's room, the phone lit up on the bedside table, casting a soft glow across the dimly lit room. The screen displayed Arthur's business number, but it went unanswered. Arthur hesitated for a moment, then tried again, anxiety building with each ring. This time, Merlin, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, noticed the persistent ringing. He reached over and picked up the phone, his voice weary as he answered, "Hello?"

"Merlin," Arthur said in a rush before remembering "Adam" wouldn't know anything was wrong. He quickly recovered. "Hello, Mr. Big Shot. How was the audition? Did the producer immediately give you a contract to sign?" he asked, forcing a casual tone.

Merlin was silent for a moment before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was awful," he began, recounting his encounter with Cenred.

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Merlin stepped inside the studio, his eyes widening in awe at the sophisticated setup. The walls were adorned with film posters, and the sleek furniture gave the space a polished, professional feel. He nervously approached the receptionist, her desk cluttered with scripts and schedules, and informed her of his appointment. She directed him to the producer's room, and he made his way down the corridor, his heart racing with anticipation.

This was his big break. He couldn't stop smiling, the excitement bubbling inside him. His hands fidgeted as he waited outside the producer's door, trying to calm the nervous energy that thrummed through his veins. The seconds felt like hours, each tick of the clock amplifying his anxiety and hope.

Finally, he was called into the producer's room. The man who greeted him had short, meticulously styled hair that framed his sharp, intense eyes. His rugged charm was emphasized by a well-groomed beard, the dark stubble adding a rough edge to his otherwise polished look. His jawline was prominent, giving his face a strong, defined structure that exuded authority.

The man wore a tailored suit that fit him perfectly, the dark fabric contrasting with the crisp white shirt underneath. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of tanned skin and a hint of a muscular chest. His fingers were adorned with a few understated rings, adding a touch of personal style to his otherwise professional attire. A plaque on his desk displayed his name: Cenred.

Cenred welcomed Merlin warmly, his voice smooth and inviting. They began discussing the film, their conversation flowing with enthusiasm. Merlin felt a surge of confidence; this was going well. But then he noticed Cenred's gaze drifting from his face to his partially unbuttoned shirt, then to his lips. The once-warm atmosphere turned oppressive as a predatory glint appeared in Cenred's eyes, making Merlin's stomach churn with unease.

Merlin attempted to redirect the conversation back to the film, but Cenred's intentions became painfully clear. Cenred mentioned Merlin's Omega status, his tone taking on a sinister edge. He reached out, his fingers cold as they rubbed Merlin's hands before slowly moving down to his thighs.

Merlin's pulse quickened, a turbulent mix of fear and anger surging through him. He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I think another actor might be more suited for this role," he said, his voice shaking with suppressed ire and disgust.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and left the studio, his dream shattering around him. The vibrant anticipation he had felt moments before was replaced with a cold, hollow despair.

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Arthur listened, his heart breaking and fury boiling within him. "I'm so sorry, Merlin," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "You deserve so much better."

"Thanks," Merlin whispered before hanging up.

Arthur stood there, seething, his fists clenched in pure rage. He knew he had to do something. Driven by a fiery mix of anger and a deep need for justice, he stormed towards Cenred's office, his steps echoing down the hallway like thunder.

Bursting into the office, Arthur found Cenred on the phone, casually reclining in his chair. The producer glanced up, his expression indifferent. "What do you want? Do you have an appointment?" he asked dismissively, his tone dripping with condescension.

Arthur's eyes blazed with resentment, memories of Merlin's devastated expression and his heart-wrenching words over the phone flooding his mind: "All this time, I thought that wanting to be an actor was the problem, but I now realize that being born as an Omega is the problem." The injustice of it all made Arthur's blood boil.

Without uttering a single word, Arthur crossed the room in swift, powerful strides. He grabbed Cenred by the collar, the force of his grip lifting the man slightly from his chair. Dragging him out into the main area, Arthur's rage was palpable, his movements fuelled by the gross injustice Merlin had suffered.

Each punch Arthur threw was heavy with pent-up anger and righteous indignation. The sound of fists meeting flesh echoed through the room, drawing gasps and cries from the onlookers. Blood splattered with each blow, staining Cenred's shirt and the floor beneath them. Arthur's knuckles split, but he felt no pain, only the burning need to make Cenred pay.

Cenred's face was a mask of fear and pain, his once confident demeanour shattered by the relentless assault. Arthur's eyes, alight with a fierce determination, never left Cenred's face as he continued to deliver blow after blow. Each punch and kick was a testament to the depth of his rage and the strength of his resolve, fueled further by the memory of Merlin's despondency.

Security guards rushed to intervene, but Arthur's outrage was a force of nature, unstoppable and unyielding. He shoved them away, his focus solely on Cenred, whose cries for mercy fell on deaf ears. The onlookers watched in stunned silence, the scene unfolding like a nightmare they couldn't wake from.

Arthur's breath came in ragged gasps, his fists aching but his spirit relentless. With one final, powerful punch, he sent Cenred sprawling to the ground, bruised and bloodied. Arthur stood over him, his chest heaving, eyes still burning with the fire of his righteous anger.

Arthur sat in the dimly lit bar, the atmosphere thick with the scent of spilled beer and the low hum of conversations blending into an indistinct murmur. He stared into his glass, the amber liquid reflecting the muted lights above, as he recounted the harrowing story to Morgana and Leon. His voice was tight with barely controlled infuriation, each word a struggle to push past.

Morgana's eyes blazed with wrath as she listened, her fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly that her hands trembled. "That poor excuse for a human! I'm going to—" she began, her voice trembling with spite.

Leon quickly reached out, placing a firm hand on her arm to stop her. "Morgana, I think your brother did most of the work. Nothing much can be done now," he said, his tone calm but filled with underlying concern.

Leon leaned in, his expression serious. "Arthur, what were you thinking? Do you realize what this could mean for Merlin? Cenred might blacklist him. And if it comes out that the CEO of Camelot Tech beat up a major producer, the consequences could be severe," he cautioned, his words measured but filled with genuine worry.

Arthur sighed deeply, the weight of the day's events pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. "I know, Leon. I did what I had to do. I couldn't let him get away with it," he replied, his voice low and strained, recalling the look on Merlin's face, the pain and betrayal in his eyes. He could feel the tension in his own body, the residual adrenaline from the confrontation still coursing through his veins.

"So, you expect him not to protect his husband?" Morgana shot back, her voice sharp and defensive.

"No, I'm saying..." Leon started, but Arthur tuned them out, his mind replaying the events over and over. The image of Cenred's smug face, the feel of his collar in Arthur's fists, the sickening satisfaction of each punch—it all swirled in his mind, mingling with the guilt and fear for Merlin's future.

As the argument between Leon and Morgana faded into the background, Arthur stared into his drink, his thoughts a chaotic jumble of regret, anger, and an unwavering determination to protect Merlin, no matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Arthur left the bar, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm inside him. He said his goodbyes to Morgana and Leon, their worried expressions lingering in his mind. As he pulled up to his house, the warm glow of the living room lights contrasted starkly with the turmoil he felt.

Stepping inside, he was greeted by an unusual sight: Merlin and his friends sprawled across various spots in the living room, their faces etched with disappointment. The atmosphere was heavy, the weight of unspoken frustrations hanging in the air.

"What's happening? Are you guys ok?" Arthur asked, breaking the tense silence. His voice cut through the room, filled with concern and curiosity. When no one responded, he turned to Lancelot, his brow furrowed.

Lancelot sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping as he spoke. "We can't find anyone to produce the movie, and when we do, we face a different problem each time. We've been trying for so long, but it doesn't seem like it will happen," he said, his voice laden with defeat.

Arthur's gaze shifted to Merlin, who sat silently, his fingers twisting nervously in his lap. The usual sparkle in his eyes was replaced with a sombre, faraway look. "How much will it take to produce the movie?" Arthur asked, his tone measured and calculative.

"It's a low-budget film, should cost about $250,000," Gwaine replied, his voice uncharacteristically flat.

Arthur paused, taking in the gravity of their situation. Gwen suddenly piped up, her voice tinged with desperate hope. "Do you know anyone, by any chance?"

"No, I'm very sorry," Arthur replied, genuinely feeling their despair. He glanced at Merlin again, the sight of Merlin’s downcast face pushed him to decide. "I'll produce the film," he announced, his eyes never leaving Merlin’s face.

Everyone turned to him, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Slowly, they stood up, as if afraid to believe what they had just heard.

"You heard that, right?" Gwaine asked Lancelot, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Yeah," Lancelot replied, equally stunned.

"You heard it too, right?" Gwaine asked Gwen, who nodded, her eyes wide with astonishment.

"You said you'll produce the film, right?" Gwaine asked Arthur again, needing the confirmation.

"Yeah, I'll produce the film myself," Arthur confirmed, his voice steady.

"Really?" Gwen asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yes, I'll really produce the movie." Arthur turned to look at Merlin, who stared back at him in utter disbelief.

Lancelot's lips parted in surprise, his eyes wide with realization. Gwen’s hands flew to her mouth, her eyes shimmering with hope. Gwaine’s usual bravado was replaced by a stunned silence, his gaze flickering between Arthur and Merlin.

"Gwaine, get a chair for him to sit. Mr. Producer must be tired," Lancelot instructed, a smile spreading across his face as Gwaine rushed around the house, looking like Golden Retriever searching for a thrown ball.

"What do you want to drink, sir? We have tea, whiskey, wine, water, and orange soda," Gwen offered, her voice brimming with renewed energy.

"No, it's fine. I can take it myself, it's my house after all," Arthur replied, amused by their sudden enthusiasm. He continued, "He'll make it as a big actor if the movie gets made, right?" Arthur asked, looking at the trio but his eyes drifting back to Merlin, who looked like he was seeing Arthur for the first time. His eyes were wide with disbelief, his lips parted in a silent question.

"Sir?" Lancelot asked, confused.

Arthur quickly corrected himself, addressing the group. "You all would make it big in the industry, right?"

"Yes," they nodded, their disbelief slowly turning into hope.

"When will you start shooting? Has the script been written?" Arthur asked, his tone businesslike.

They exchanged glances before Gwaine spoke up. "We have everything ready. If it's okay with you, we can start shooting in about two to three months."

"Absolutely, we can make this happen. I'll get in touch with some contacts who might be interested in supporting us," Arthur said, and pulled out his phone, swiftly typing out messages to potential investors. His eyes were sharp, focused, and every movement deliberate, embodying the meticulous and strategic nature of a seasoned businessman.

“Thank you so much, sir. You have no idea what this means to us,” Lancelot said, his voice trembling with emotion. The words seemed to echo in the silence, filled with a mixture of hope and relief.

Arthur smiled warmly at them, feeling a surge of satisfaction. "I just want everyone to be happy, all the time," he said, turning to Merlin with a soft, almost lovesick smile.

Merlin rolled his eyes and sighed, clearly annoyed. His lips pressed into a tight line, and he let out an exasperated breath, glancing away from Arthur to avoid his adoring gaze. "Always smiling," Arthur noted, his voice full of fondness, as he continued to watch Merlin with a look of gentle adoration.

The trio exchanged glances, finally beginning to understand the depth of Arthur's commitment. Gwaine broke the silence. “I’ll make the necessary arrangements. We can start shooting as soon as we find the love interest.”

“A love interest?” Arthur asked, stunned.

“It’s a love story, so we need a love interest,” Gwaine explained, grinning broadly now.

“Love story? You didn’t tell me it was a love story,” Arthur said, his confusion evident.

“There’s just a bigger market for romance movies, you know? And not only that, but the most important character is going to be the love interest, AKA the hero. After all, the movie is called ‘Darcy’,” Gwaine explained.

“Darcy?” Arthur repeated, his face paling as he began to realize the implications.

“Aren’t there any stories based on an Omega-centred plot? Like Jessica Shellcrop, James Till?” Arthur asked urgently.

“Those are big-name actors, sir. And like Gwaine said, there is more demand for a romance movie, and it’s a very intimate movie,” Lancelot added.

“Intimate?” Arthur echoed, his voice faint.

“You know, kissing, hugging, the things a couple does,” Gwaine clarified, making a gesture with his hands.

“Oh, that kind of intimate movie,” Arthur said, as his face turned an alarming shade of pale, and his legs wobbled unsteadily beneath him. His eyes fluttered as he struggled to process the information. The room seemed to spin around him, and his balance faltered. Moments later, his knees buckled, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Arthur was woken up a few minutes later by Gwen gently patting his face. "Mr. Producer, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Arthur opened his eyes to see the trio crowding around him. He abruptly sat up, staring at the ground, his mind racing. Merlin watched him from the far end of the living room, his expression unreadable.

“Sir, you need to take care of yourself. You're very important to us now,” Lancelot said, gently. “We’ll start preparing. Please, get some rest,” he added, urging the others to give Arthur some space.

As they all turned to leave, Arthur stopped them. “Wait.”

“Oh right, sorry, your glasses,” Gwen said, walking to hand them to him.

“Not that. I just have one request,” Arthur said softly, looking up at them with determination.

They listened intently, their focus unwavering.

“If you want me to produce your movie, I want to be the hero in the movie,” Arthur declared.

Lancelot’s smile dropped, his eyes widening in surprise. Gwen went into a daze, her gaze unfocused as she processed the shock. Gwaine, unable to maintain his balance, fell to the ground, still smiling in stunned disbelief. Merlin’s eyes widened, his expression one of utter incredulity, his mouth slightly open as he stared at Arthur.

Arthur cautiously approached them, helping Gwaine to his feet before taking his glasses from Gwen. He walked past the group, feeling their stunned gazes follow him. Merlin watched, his mouth slightly open in shock, as Arthur exited the room. The atmosphere was heavy, the room seemingly holding its breath, the weight of Arthur's offer settling over them like a tangible presence.

Chapter Text

Arthur's office was a spacious, modern room with large windows that offered a panoramic view of the city. The walls were lined with shelves filled with books and awards, each one a testament to his accomplishments. A large mahogany desk dominated the centre of the room, its polished surface reflecting the light from the windows. Arthur sat behind the desk, looking determined, his hands clasped tightly in front of him. Leon sat in a chair opposite him, his body tense while Morgana paced the floor, her steps quick and agitated.

"You what?" Leon asked, his voice rising in disbelief, eyes widening as he tried to process Arthur's words.

"What did you expect? To let a random stranger touch and kiss my husband while I produce the movie?" Arthur’s tone sharp and his gaze unrelenting. "No way."

Morgana stopped pacing and turned to face Arthur, her expression incredulous. "So, you expect people to come into the movie theatre and watch YOU of all people?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm, her eyebrows raised in scepticism.

"He already hates you. What do you think will happen now?" Morgana continued, shaking her head as she resumed her pacing, her movements becoming more erratic.

Arthur sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of exasperation. "It's just acting. I'll learn it, I'll try my best. I have no choice. "

Morgana stopped again, her expression still tight with anger. "I understand the part where you're producing the movie. In fact, I applaud it. But you wanting to act in it? Now, that's just punishing Merlin and the audience," she said, her tone critical and biting.

Leon sat quietly, his eyes darting between his siblings. He didn't want to come between them, but the worry was evident on his face, he had never seen Arthur act so impulsively and erratically. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hands fidgeting in his lap, confused on how to face the incoming storm.

At Merlin's house, the atmosphere was no better. Merlin stood by the dining table, glaring at his friends who were seated around it. Gwaine fiddled with a pen, Lancelot tapped his fingers on the table, and Gwen chewed on her lip, all avoiding Merlin's piercing gaze.

"Are you kidding me? The man just comes and says he'll be the hero, and you three just nod?" Merlin shouted, his frustration evident.

"He's saying he'll produce it," Lancelot retorted, trying to justify their decision.

"So? Just because he produces the movie means he knows how to act?" Merlin snapped back, his annoyance growing.

Gwen sighed, looking at Merlin with pleading eyes. "Merlin, we can make a movie together just like we dreamed about years ago. If we let go of this opportunity..."

Merlin stopped pacing and looked at them, a bitter smile on his face. "Oh, you guys have already made up your minds. Amazing. Mr. Director," he called out to Gwaine, "I'm guessing I can't convince you otherwise?"

Gwaine shook his head, his expression serious. His usually carefree demeanour was replaced with a gravity that underscored the importance of his words. "Merlin, we have no choice, I don't see another way. Mate, we've been trying for six years, not one or two, but six, and nothing happened. He is producing the movie solely for you. Another alpha won't do stuff like this."

"You're an alpha, Lancelot's an alpha. You would have produced the movie for your mate," Merlin countered.

"We're different," Lancelot said, shaking his head.

"How?" Merlin demanded.

Gwaine sighed deeply, his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Merlin..." he began, his voice heavy with exasperation. He paused, his shoulders slumping slightly as he tried to convey the gravity of the situation. "Look at it this way, I can't just go up to him and say, 'Hey mate, we are still going to find another actor to play the hero.' He won't produce the film. Merlin, this isn't just your life, everyone here is depending on it. Trust me, I'll cut down on the intimacy scenes. You won't have to do anything you don't like."

"Just tell me one thing—do you really think anyone will watch a movie with a hero that looks like him?" Merlin's voice was heavy with exhaustion, each word laden with the weight of his doubts. He looked at his friends, trying to convey the reality as he saw it, his expression a mix of frustration and pleading for understanding.

"Your issue is with his looks, right? Welcome to my department," Gwen smirked before rapidly typing on her phone.

Back in Arthur's office, his phone rang, Gwen's name flashing on the screen. "It's Merlin's friends," he informed the room before answering. "Hello," he said, his voice tinged with curiosity. Leon held his breath, hoping that Merlin hadn't left the house or done something rash, while Morgana tried to cool down, still simmering with anger at Arthur.

"What is it?" Leon asked urgently.

"Merlin's friends are asking me to go to a hair salon," Arthur replied, puzzled.

The next morning, Arthur found himself sitting in a hair salon's chair, the hairdresser draping a cloak over him. The room buzzed with activity, the hum of blow dryers and the chatter of stylists blending together. The air was thick with the scent of various hair products. Gwen stood nearby, studying Arthur's face intently, contemplating what look would suit him as a romantic movie hero.

"First, let's lose the specs," Gwen said, gently removing Arthur's glasses. The world blurred around him, and he blinked nervously. Gwen handed the glasses to Lancelot and then turned to the hairdresser, giving detailed instructions on how his hair should be cut. Arthur's eyes darted wildly around the room, terrified of the future to come. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white, a stark contrast to the black cape draped over him.

Gwaine and Lancelot watched intently from a few feet away, their faces full of amusement and anticipation. Gwaine leaned in and whispered something to Lancelot, who nodded and chuckled softly. "I think the beard needs to go too," Gwaine suggested.

Arthur's eyes widened further, but he remained silent, trusting their judgment despite his apprehension. The hairdresser nodded and set to work, scissors snipping and clippers buzzing. Each cut and trim felt like an eternity to Arthur, who could only imagine the outcome.

When the transformation was complete, the trio stepped back, proudly admiring their handiwork. Satisfied with their work, they escorted Arthur out of the salon. A sleek, chauffeur-driven car awaited them at the curb. Lancelot opened the door, and Arthur stepped in, still adjusting to his new look. Gwaine and Gwen followed, their faces lit with excitement and pride at the successful transformation. The car ride home was filled with their animated chatter, while Arthur sat quietly, still processing the dramatic change.

When they arrived home, Lancelot opened the car door, and Arthur stepped out, his newly transformed appearance catching the last rays of the setting sun. Gwaine and Gwen followed, their expressions a mix of pride and anticipation.

"Gwen, go get Merlin," Gwaine instructed as they entered the house.

Gwen hurried up to Merlin's room and knocked. "Merlin, come out. You have to see this," she called through the door.

Merlin emerged from his room, eyebrows knit together, his mind in turmoil as he followed Gwen downstairs. His steps were measured, betraying a mix of curiosity and wariness. In the living room, Lancelot and Gwaine stood holding up photos of Arthur before the makeover, effectively blocking his face. The images showed Arthur with a scruffy beard and glasses, exuding a rugged, unpolished charm.

Gwen stood theatrically in the centre, her movements grand as she built up the anticipation. With a flourish, she signalled for Arthur to step forward. As Lancelot and Gwaine lowered the photos, the newly transformed Arthur was revealed. Without his beard and glasses, his clear blue eyes were striking, revealing a new intensity. His strong jawline and high cheekbones were now prominent, giving him a sharp, youthful appearance. His hair, shorter on the sides and slightly tousled on top, added a modern, sophisticated touch.

Gwen urged Arthur to say something. Arthur hesitated, then put his hands in his pockets and took a deep breath. "Shall we film a movie then?" he said, his voice steady but filled with nervous anticipation.

Chapter Text

Merlin stared at Arthur, his eyes narrowing slightly before he turned to his friends. "I want to talk to you three," he said curtly, beckoning Gwaine, Lancelot, and Gwen to follow him. Without waiting for a response, he swiftly walked up the stairs. Arthur remained in the living room, watching them ascend before sinking into the sofa with a heavy sigh.

In Merlin’s room, tension filled the air. Gwen stood defensively with her arms crossed. Gwaine looked apprehensive, hoping Merlin would be satisfied enough to agree to the movie. Lancelot shifted nervously from foot to foot, glancing between Merlin and the others.

"Are you actually insane?" Merlin shouted, his anger bubbling over. His friends flinched at his outburst.

"I don't understand what's your issue now," Gwen shot back, her pride wounded. "We made him go from looking homeless to the man of your dreams overnight. He’d be on a clickbait article somewhere."

"Yeah," Lancelot and Gwaine chimed in, nodding vigorously. "He looks good, Merlin. What's the problem now?" Lancelot continued, trying to sound reasonable.

His eyes narrowed, glinting with a mix of bitterness and irony. "Is that so? Then you should make a movie with him as the sole character," he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He turned abruptly and stormed out of the room, heading back downstairs and slamming the door behind him.

"Oi," they said in unison as Merlin stormed out of the room, heading upstairs to the terrace and slamming the door to his room behind him.

The trio exchanged helpless glances, their expressions a mix of concern and frustration, before going back downstairs. They huddled in the kitchen, their heads close together as they whispered urgently. Their voices were low but animated, filled with urgency and determination. Gwaine's hands gestured wildly, illustrating his points, while Gwen nodded fervently, her brows furrowed in thought. Lancelot leaned in closer, his face serious, as they brainstormed ways to convince Merlin. The kitchen became a hub of quiet but intense discussion, their collective focus on finding a solution to ease Merlin's frustration.

"Erm," Arthur's voice cut through the murmurs, awkwardly reminding them of his presence. They turned to look at him, momentarily startled.

"Well, if you don't mind, could you explain the movie a bit more in depth?" Arthur leaned forward slightly, his eyes bright with interest.
Gwaine approached the sofa, bending down to retrieve his messenger bag from the floor. He pulled out an iPad and opened it, revealing a detailed script outline with storyboard sketches and organized notes. "Well, sir," he said, tapping on the screen to zoom in on the first page, "if you look here, the opening scene has the main characters, you and Merlin, in a family court, applying for a divorce." He held the iPad up for Arthur to see, pointing to the drawings and highlighted sections.

"HUH?" Arthur almost yelled, his eyes wide with shock. The trio flinched at his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shock you. I don't understand, didn't you say this movie is a romance, intimate and all that?" Arthur asked, his confusion evident.

"That doesn't mean the entire movie is about the main characters hugging and kissing," Lancelot chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's right. In this movie, the hero and the other hero fall in love and get married, but their honeymoon phase doesn't last long. They start having minor misunderstandings and small problems which snowball into a huge issue. So, will they get back together or not? That's basically the climax of the story," Gwaine explained.

Arthur leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the iPad screen, a mixture of captivation and worry etched on his face. "But they'll get back together, right?" he asked, realizing how the story slightly mirrored his own situation.

Lancelot's expression turned contemplative, his brow furrowing as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not very sure," he replied, his voice carrying a note of uncertainty. "I'm still writing it."

Arthur's hope flickered, his gaze dropping slightly. "Is it okay to end it on a positive note or something to that effect?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hopeful desperation.

Gwaine turned slowly to look at Lancelot, while Gwen let out a nervous laugh. Lancelot's eyes darted between them before settling on Arthur. "We'll see as it goes on," he said, his tone cautious and non-committal.

Arthur's worry deepened, his concern for Merlin evident in his voice. "Has Merlin agreed to all this? Like the story and whatnot?" he asked.

"He hasn't yet, but don't worry about it. He will, he has no other choice," Gwen said, smirking. "Right, guys?" she hinted to the others.

"Yeap, yeap. No worries there," Gwaine responded.

Arthur was still worried. He sat on the sofa, his eyes drifting upward to Merlin's room. The door was open, but there was no sign of Merlin inside. Arthur's gaze then shifted to the terrace, where he saw Merlin's silhouette against the dusky sky. Taking a deep breath, his chest rising and falling heavily, Arthur stood up, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on him as he moved toward the terrace.

On the terrace, Merlin sat on the railing, deep in thought. Gwaine's words echoed in his mind, "Merlin, we have no choice, I don't see another way. Mate, we've been trying for six years, not one or two, but six, and nothing happened."

Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts. "If you really hate whatever I'm doing, tell me and I'll stop," Arthur said, his voice carrying a mix of concern and resignation. Merlin looked up to see Arthur standing at the top of the staircase, his face earnest. Arthur took off his sunglasses, his expression serious, finishing his sentence before turning to leave, preparing himself to resign to his fate of divorce.

Merlin sat in silence, replaying Gwaine's words over and over in his mind. Something outside caught his attention—a pop of vibrant colour. His gaze fell on the marigold flowers in the garden below, their bright orange petals standing out against the greenery. He squinted, realising that Arthur had planted them there. The gesture didn't stir any warmth in him, but it did make him pause and consider the effort behind it.

With a determined expression, he stood up and made his way down the stairs. At the bottom, he saw his friends watching him with nervous anticipation. Arthur stood off to the side, his expression a mix of hope and fear, his eyes flicking between Merlin and the others.

Merlin paused for a moment, watching Arthur as he prepared to leave, his shoulders slumping slightly. Finally, Merlin slowly smiled and nodded. Gwaine cheered, Gwen and Lancelot hugged each other, and Arthur's face lit up with relief and joy, his posture straightening as the tension melted away.

Chapter Text

"Arthur! What did you need me for? Arthur!" Morgana's voice echoed through Arthur and Merlin's house as she entered, her tone a mix of curiosity and urgency. She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Arthur in the kitchen, standing by the dining table with a bottle of pills trembling in his hand, the phone clutched tightly in the other. The kitchen was dimly lit, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the countertops.

Arthur's voice trembled, raw with despair. "My family won't be able to take on the divorce. I can't do this to them; it'll be better to just die," he said, the words catching in his throat. His hand shook as he placed the phone on the dining table, its screen glowing softly.

Morgana's eyes widened in horror, her pulse quickening. She rushed forward, her footsteps echoing off the tiled floor. In one swift motion, she slapped the bottle out of Arthur's hands, the pills scattering across the floor like tiny, white beads. "Are you fucking insane? " She yelled, "The divorce won't tear the family apart; we're not the royal family. If I had been late—"

"Cut! Who is this? Everything was going well!" Gwaine shouted angrily from behind the video camera, his face flushed with frustration. Lancelot, holding the script, looked equally annoyed. Merlin's expression darkened, and Gwen crossed her arms, shaking her head in exasperation. The four of them exchanged looks of mutual annoyance, the tension in the room palpable.

"Someone take her away, please. Thank you," Gwaine added, as he ran a hand through his hair, clearly frazzled by the interruption.

Morgana turned to scold Gwaine, but Arthur's soft voice stopped her. "Morgana, I'm practicing my scenes for the movie. Remember, the one I'm producing? Merlin acting as my love interest? " He explained, a proud smile playing on his lips. Merlin, watching the commotion, rolled his eyes and turned away.

"Arthur, he already ruined your life by acting. Now he's going to ruin your wealth with his acting," Morgana said, her voice dripping with disdain. Merlin's anger flared, but he couldn't deny Morgana's words because he had deceived Arthur. He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he struggled to keep his composure.

"Morgana! Don't say that. The movie will be a hit, I'm sure," Arthur chided, his eyes filled with determination. "Plus, I called you over here because..." Arthur suddenly lowered his voice, his tone barely audible.

"Say that again, I didn't catch what you said," Morgana replied, puzzled, her eyebrows knitting together.

"I was hoping that you’d be the one managing the funds, securing the venues, and handling the general logistics for the movie production." He repeated rapidly, the words tumbling out as he stole a quick glance at her, anxious about her reaction.

"No," Morgana replied flatly, her expression unyielding.

Arthur's eyes widened, a flash of desperation crossing his face. "Morgana, please," he implored, his voice cracking slightly. He leaned forward, his hands clenched at his sides. "You know you're the only one I can call for this. You're perfect for the job." His gaze softened, pleading. "Think of it as practice for the future when you take over Dad's business." The sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable, as he tried to convey the urgency of his request.

Morgana looked at Arthur, her face contorted with disbelief as she contemplated the situation. She let out a heavy sigh, sinking to the floor, her thoughts racing. "As much as I hate doing this, especially because of him, I'll do it for you," she said through clenched teeth, her voice tight with suppressed emotion.

"I love you so much," Arthur said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude as he helped her to her feet.

A few days later, with Morgana's reluctant agreement still weighing on his mind, Arthur gathered everyone at the house. "I have something important to show you all," he announced, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. The group exchanged curious glances before following Arthur out the door.

They piled into a convoy of cars and drove to the studio. Upon arriving, Arthur led them to a door and pushed it open, revealing a vast, open space stretched out before them, bathed in the muted glow of overhead lights. High ceilings soared above, creating an expansive sense of scale.

A complex grid of metal trusses hung from the ceiling, ready to support lighting fixtures and other equipment. Electrical outlets and power supply points were scattered around the perimeter, standing by for the power needs of future sets and filming gear.

As they stepped inside, their footsteps echoed slightly in the vast emptiness. The sheer size of the sound stage and its potential left everyone momentarily speechless. Arthur turned to look at Merlin, hoping to see some reaction. Merlin's face remained impassive, his eyes methodically scanning the room without a hint of emotion. Despite this, Arthur's excitement didn't waver, the hopeful glint in his eyes unwavering.

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The air was thick with anticipation as the first day of principal shooting began. The studio hummed with frenetic energy. Technicians scurried about, their walkie-talkies crackling with instructions. Green screens draped the walls. Small, detailed sets depicting different parts of a house were meticulously arranged, each one a mini world waiting to come to life.

Post-its and colourful papers adorned the furniture and equipment, marking scenes and notes. The crew's chatter blended into a symphony of organized chaos, punctuated by the clatter of equipment and the occasional shout for attention. The air was thick with the scent of fresh paint and the hum of machinery.

Gwaine stood at the centre, his hands slicing through the air as he directed the crew, positioning cameras with precision. Lancelot hovered nearby, his eyes darting across the script, lips moving slightly as he mouthed lines, ensuring every detail was spot on. Merlin, a few steps away, mouthed his lines with intense concentration, while Gwen circled him like a hawk, her brush sweeping across his face to perfect his makeup as he fidgeted impatiently.

Arthur stood in a corner, his script in hand, lips moving as he murmured lines under his breath. He glanced around, occasionally stealing a look at the bustling activity around him. Morgana, watching the scene with furrowed brows, quietly approached him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her eyes scanning the busy set before meeting his gaze. "Arthur, this looks nice and all, but it's really expensive. Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Her voice trembled slightly, betraying her worry.

"Yeap," Arthur replied, his focus unwavering.

"Arthur, yeap confirmed? Arthur, yeap confirmed?" Morgana repeated, trying to gauge his determination.

Before Arthur could reply, Merlin hurried past him, leaving a trail of sandalwood and vanilla in the air. The scent was thick and sweet, almost intoxicating, lingering long after Merlin had gone. Gwen darted to Arthur's side, her eyes wide with urgency. "Merlin just went into heat," she whispered, her voice tight with concern.

Chapter Text

The bustling energy of the set came to an abrupt halt as the news spread. Arthur's heart raced, the cloying scent of sandalwood and vanilla overpowering his senses. He turned to Gwen, her face pale with urgency. "Merlin just went into heat," she whispered again, her eyes wide with concern.

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "We need to get him somewhere safe," he said firmly. The stakes had never been higher, for him and his marriage, and the path to completing the film had just become far more complicated.

Arthur's eyes darted around, his heart pounding faster with each passing second. Panic started to bubble up as he realized Merlin was nowhere to be seen. He turned to Gwen, his voice tight with worry. "Where is he? He passed by me just a moment ago."

Gwen's gaze swept the area, her face paling as she mirrored Arthur's worry. "I don't know!" She replied, her voice shaking. The shared panic hung in the air, intensifying their desperation.

Arthur weaved through the bustling crew, his movements growing more frantic as he failed to spot Merlin. Anxiety clawed at his chest, tightening his breath.

His anxiety reached a peak when he spotted Merlin near the exit, fumbling with the door of a car.

"Merlin!" Arthur shouted, rushing over. Merlin turned, his face flushed and eyes unfocused.

"I'm going home," Merlin mumbled, struggling to unlock the car. "I can drive myself."

Arthur reached Merlin just in time, his hand gripping Merlin's arm to stop him from getting into the driver's seat. "You can't drive in your condition," Arthur insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "It's too dangerous."

Merlin's eyes flashed with defiance. "Don't touch me," he snapped, pulling away from Arthur's grasp. "I don't need your help. I'll drive myself."

Arthur's heart ached at the hostility, but he stood his ground, refusing to let Merlin put himself in danger. "Please, Merlin," he said, struggling to keep his voice calm despite the turmoil churning inside him. "Let me help you. You can't drive right now."

Gwen, catching up to them, looked between Arthur and Merlin, her face a mask of concern. Merlin's breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he glared at Arthur. "If you won't let me drive, then Gwen will," he said stubbornly. "But not you."

"I'll drive you, Merlin," Gwen offered softly. "Let's just get you home safely, okay?"

Merlin's shoulders sagged with a mix of exhaustion and relief. "Fine," he muttered, stepping back from the car. "But only Gwen."

Arthur took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He swallowed his frustration, his hands trembling slightly. "Alright," he said, his voice strained. "Gwen will drive you."

Merlin's defiant glare didn't waver, but he didn't argue further, turning away from Arthur with a huff as Gwen quickly took the keys from Merlin and helped him into the passenger seat. As she settled into the driver's seat, Arthur leaned in through the open window. "Take care of him. I’ll try to come over as soon as possible," he said quietly, his eyes meeting Gwen's.

She nodded. "I will," she promised.

Arthur watched the car pull away, his heart sinking as a tight knot of worry and frustration churned within him. Every fibre of his being wanted to be the one to help Merlin, but he knew he had to respect Merlin's boundaries. The lingering scent of Merlin's heat was intoxicating, tugging at his instincts to protect and comfort. Arthur closed his eyes, taking deep breaths, struggling to keep his composure as the primal urges surged within him, urging him to get closer to Merlin, his mate.

But he wasn't Merlin's mate. He was just the man Merlin hated, the one who had to keep his distance.

Chapter Text

Arthur hurried back to the sound stage, his senses still overwhelmed by the lingering scent of sandalwood and vanilla that clung to his clothes. Each breath was a reminder of Merlin's heat, making it hard to focus. He pushed through the bustling crew, his mind racing as he approached Gwaine and Lancelot, their expressions mirroring the concern that churned in his gut.

"We need to wrap up for the day," Arthur said, his voice carrying the weight of urgency. He gestured around the room, trying to maintain composure. "Merlin's not in a condition to work, and we can't shoot without him."

Gwaine nodded, his expression serious as he glanced at Lancelot. "We figured as much. It’s best to let everyone go before it becomes more of an issue."

Lancelot placed a reassuring hand on Arthur’s shoulder. "Take care of him, alright? We'll manage things here."

Arthur appreciated their understanding, giving a nod before heading for the exit, determination in his stride as he focused on getting back to Merlin.

Once Arthur left, Gwaine turned to Lancelot, a hint of skepticism in his eyes. "Do you trust Arthur?" Gwaine hesitated, glancing at the door Arthur had just exited. "I want to believe he has good intentions, but it's hard to shake the doubts."

Lancelot considered this, his brow furrowed. "Arthur has proven himself to be a good man. Besides, Gwen is with Merlin if anything happens."

Morgana suddenly appeared, her presence a striking contrast to the chaos around them. "Arthur would never do anything to harm Merlin," she stated firmly, her eyes locking onto theirs before she walked away, leaving Gwaine and Lancelot to look at each other, uncertainty in their shared glance.

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Arthur pulled into the driveway with a screech of tires, his car coming to an abrupt stop at an awkward angle. He barely registered the haphazard parking job as he jumped out, the urgency of the situation driving him forward. He dashed to the front door, fumbling briefly with the keys before bursting inside.

The scent of Merlin's heat hit him like a tidal wave, the comforting aroma that usually grounded him betraying him now, only intensified the internal struggle. Arthur raced through the house, taking the stairs two at a time as he made his way to Merlin's room. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, each step bringing him closer to where he needed to be.

Reaching the door, Arthur paused, leaning against the frame as he caught his breath. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his hand clenched so tightly that his nails bit into his palm, the pain grounding him. The pain was a small, grounding distraction, but it barely touched the storm inside him.

Inside the room, Merlin sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the uncomfortable heat coursing through his veins. His skin felt too tight, his thoughts a jumbled mess of frustration and discomfort. He knew Arthur was just outside, could almost smell his scent of fresh rain-soaked earth and the musk of aged paper through the door, and it infuriated him. He didn't want to rely on Arthur, didn't want to need him, but the scent of his own heat was overwhelming.

Arthur pressed his back against Merlin’s door, feeling the cool wood as he sank to the floor. Arthur's thoughts raced, his body screaming for action while his mind held him back. He wanted so badly to be near Merlin, to help him through this, but the memory of Merlin's cold, disdainful eyes was a constant reminder of their strained relationship. The memory was a painful anchor that kept him from crossing the threshold.

Just as he was starting to collect his thoughts, Arthur heard soft footsteps approaching from down the hallway. Gwen appeared, her face etched with concern as she took in the scene. She paused, observing Arthur’s tense posture before kneeling beside him.

"Arthur," she whispered gently, her voice full of understanding. "I came to check on you. I know it’s overwhelming right now."

He nodded, grateful for her presence. "His scent is everywhere, and it’s hard to think straight," Arthur admitted, his voice tight with strain.

Gwen offered a sympathetic smile, resting a hand on his shoulder. "I’ll keep an eye on Merlin, make sure he’s okay."

Arthur took a deep breath and shifted to the side, allowing Gwen to access the door. She squeezed his shoulder before carefully opening the door just enough to slip inside quietly.

Once inside Merlin’s room, Gwen paused briefly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim light before approaching Merlin, who sat huddled at the edge of the bed.

Merlin’s eyes flicked up to her briefly, filled with a mix of frustration and discomfort, before he looked away, his hands clenching the sheets. Gwen approached slowly, her movements gentle and unthreatening.

“Hey,” she said softly, taking a seat beside him. Her voice was calm and steady, a soothing balm against the chaos swirling around them. “I’m here, Merlin. Let me help you.”

Merlin didn’t respond immediately, his body tense and coiled with the overwhelming sensations that gripped him. Gwen placed a reassuring hand on his arm, feeling the tautness of his muscles beneath her touch.

“Just breathe with me, okay?” she encouraged, keeping her tone light and supportive.

As Merlin attempted to follow her guidance, a sharp, metallic tang mingled with the familiar earthy and deep musk scent in the air, catching his attention. He rose from the bed, curiosity overriding his discomfort, and moved silently to the door. Gently, he opened it just a crack, peering into the hallway.

Arthur leaned heavily against the wall, lost in thought. His figure silhouetted against the dim light, casting a shadow on the floor. Merlin's eyes drifted to Arthur's hand, where a dark streak of red glistened against his skin, contrasting starkly with the paleness of his knuckles. The sight of the wound and the scent of fresh blood intertwined with Arthur’s scent filled the space between them.

Merlin began, his tone sharp with irritation, laced with exhaustion and frustration. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur startled at the sound of Merlin's voice, his eyes snapping to meet Merlin's gaze. He composed himself, trying to keep his tone. "Just making sure you're okay," he said simply, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Merlin stared at him for a long moment, the words sinking in. There was no hint of deception in Arthur's eyes, only a raw honesty that was hard to ignore.

"You should clean that," Merlin said, nodding toward Arthur’s hand. His voice cut through the silence, calm yet edged with a hint of annoyance. "I can’t stand the smell."

Arthur managed a small, grateful smile. "I'll be fine," he replied, but he turned and headed toward the bathroom, leaving Merlin.

Arthur splashed water over his bleeding hand, the cold sting bringing a momentary clarity. He wrapped a bandage around it, his thoughts still on Merlin. How could he convey his genuine desire to help without crossing the boundaries Merlin had so clearly set? The answer eluded him, leaving him feeling helpless.

Back in his room, Merlin sat back down on the bed, his mind racing. He couldn't deny the effort Arthur was making, the visible struggle to keep his instincts in check. The thought of Arthur injuring himself just to maintain control confused Merlin, he He couldn’t fathom Arthur’s actions, especially when all he had done was push him away.

Arthur returned to the hallway, his hand bandaged, and resumed his vigil. The scent was still thick in the air, every breath a challenge. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pain in his hand to keep himself grounded. The door creaked open again, and Merlin stepped out, his expression unreadable.

"Why are you doing this?" Merlin asked, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

Arthur met his gaze, the raw honesty in his eyes returning. "Because I care about you," he said simply.

Merlin's eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn't quite place, and for a moment, the tension between them seemed to ease. They stood there in silence, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air. Arthur knew the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, everything would be ok.

Chapter Text

The world outside the studio felt painfully normal, an ordinary day unfolding as if nothing had changed. But for Merlin, everything had shifted, and he hated it. The haze of his heat had passed, but its echoes refused to leave him. His body still felt too warm, too sensitive, like it was betraying him with the memory of something he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Arthur stood by the car, waiting.

His posture was relaxed, hands in his pockets, but Merlin knew better. Arthur had barely left the house during his heat; always close, never pushing, but undeniably there. And even though they had barely spoken, Merlin could feel the weight of the past few days in every unspoken word between them.

Merlin hesitated. His body wanted him to move forward, to step into the car, to accept the easy solution. But his mind rebelled against the idea. If he got in, he would be accepting something he didn’t want to name, acknowledging the moments when he had instinctively reached for the comfort of a presence just beyond the walls of his room.

It wasn’t real.

It had just been his body reacting. A heat malfunction. A stupid biological trick.

Arthur, still silent, tilted his head slightly, waiting. There was no question in his expression, no pressure. Just patience. Just understanding.

Merlin clenched his fists and took a step back. Then another.

Arthur’s lips parted slightly, a flicker of something; hurt, disappointment passing through his eyes before it was quickly masked. He nodded once, an almost imperceptible motion, before getting in and pulling the car away, leaving Merlin standing there, watching the space where the car had been.
The moment Arthur was gone, Merlin let out a sharp breath and turned away. His fingers trembled slightly as he shoved them into his pockets.
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Everything felt off; the bright lights, the buzzing crew, the controlled chaos of production. It was all the same, yet Merlin felt like he was walking through a dream he wasn’t quite awake from.

The set was tense. The rented road, surrounded by positioned cars and background actors, was a carefully orchestrated scene of urban chaos. Crew members scrambled to adjust lights, extras milled about, waiting for their cue, and cameras loomed over everything, ready to capture every second.

Merlin stood in the middle of it, his costume slightly disheveled to match the character’s frustration. Across from him, Arthur was already in place, his stance rigid but unreadable. It was a scene of confrontation, a breaking point in the script where everything was meant to come undone in a raw, emotional clash.

“Rolling! And action!”

Merlin strode forward, his voice sharp as he demanded, “Why did you lie to me?” Merlin's voice wavered slightly before he forced more strength into it. He took a step forward, eyes locked on Arthur’s.

Arthur’s character was meant to look caught, conflicted, but Merlin barely registered it. The words left his lips empty, without the desperation the moment called for.

“Cut!”

Gwaine’s voice carried through the set. “Merlin, you’re supposed to be angry! Where is the anger?”

Merlin exhaled through his nose, nodding stiffly. He reset his stance.

“Again.”

“Action!”

This time, Merlin took a step closer, voice a little louder, but the accusation still rang hollow. Arthur’s gaze flickered to him, concern threading through the scripted tension. He wasn’t reacting as he should either because he knew. He could see right through Merlin’s failing attempts.

“Cut! Merlin, what the hell?”

Morgana stepped forward, arms crossed tightly. “We don’t have time for this, Gwaine. The rental on this road is nearly up.”

“I know,” Gwaine snapped, before turning back to Merlin. “What’s wrong with you today?”

Merlin clenched his jaw. “Nothing.”

“You’re barely present in the scene!”

“Again,” Gwaine barked, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Rolling! And action!”

Merlin took a breath and stepped forward. “Why did you lie to me?”

Silence. His voice was steady, but it lacked fire.

“Cut! Merlin, what was that?” Gwaine snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “It’s supposed to be raw. Desperate. Right now, you sound like you’re asking him why he forgot to pick up milk on the way home!”

Merlin clenched his jaw, nodding. “Got it.”

“Take it again!”

The cameras rolled once more.

Merlin stepped forward, voice louder this time, sharper. “Why did you lie to me?”

Arthur flinched slightly, but it still wasn’t enough. Merlin wasn’t reaching him. He wasn’t reaching himself.

“Cut!” Gwaine’s voice was tighter now, his patience thinning. “Merlin, you’re holding back! I can feel you holding back!”

Morgana checked her watch, letting out an irritated sigh. “We’re running out of time, Gwaine.”

“Yeah, I know, Morgana,” Gwaine shot back before looking at Merlin again. “You need to give me something. Anything.”

Merlin sucked in a breath, fists curling at his sides. He could feel the pressure thickening around him, the weight of every impatient set of eyes waiting for him to just get it right.

Gwaine exhaled sharply.

Lancelot shifted uneasily behind the camera, he had seen Merlin falter before, but not like this, not when it was clear that something deeper was clawing at him.

“We go again.”

The scene reset. The tension stretched thinner.

Merlin tried. He really tried. But each time, the same thing happened. His words were hollow. His presence fractured. The fire that should have been there remained elusive, just out of reach, slipping through his fingers like water.

By the sixth attempt, Gwaine finally snapped, slamming the script onto the nearest surface. “Merlin, if you can’t do this, just tell me! Because I am so close to cutting the scene entirely.”

Silence. The entire set was watching him, waiting.

Then, Arthur’s voice cut through softly. “Maybe we should take ten.”

Gwaine shot him a glare, but Arthur was already walking off, disappearing into the crowd of crew members without another glance. Merlin watched him go, feeling an odd twist in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what he expected; maybe a comment, a reassurance, something. Arthur didn’t look back.

Someone approached Merlin, holding out his phone. "Hey, you've got a call. Figured you’d want it."

Merlin blinked, taking the device. The caller ID flashed with a name that had become oddly comforting over the past few months.

Adam.

He hesitated for only a second before answering. "Hey."

"Merlin? You okay? You sound upset." Adam’s voice was warm, familiar.

Merlin let out a breath, pressing the heel of his hand against his temple. "Not really. I'm completely botching this scene, and everyone is waiting for me to get my act together. I don't even know what’s wrong."

Merlin leaned against a railing. "Confrontation. My character is supposed to be furious, broken. But I can’t reach it. It’s like—like I know the words, but they don’t mean anything. And Gwaine is losing it. I can feel everyone’s frustration. I just…"

"You’re overthinking it." Adam’s voice was calm, measured. "You do that when you’re trying too hard to get something right. But acting isn't about being right, is it? It’s about being real. What’s stopping you from really feeling it?"

Merlin swallowed, staring at the ground. "I—I don’t know. Maybe I just don’t feel anything."

Adam let out a thoughtful hum. "I don't think it's that you don't feel anything, Merlin. Maybe you're just trying too hard to control it. Sometimes, the harder you push it down, the more it fights to come out in ways you don’t expect."

Merlin closed his eyes.

"So what do I do?" he asked quietly.

"Stop controlling it. Stop trying to act it and just be in it. Let yourself feel whatever comes. Even if it’s not what’s expected." Adam’s voice was steady, sure. "You already know how to do this, Merlin. Just trust yourself."

Merlin exhaled slowly. For the first time since the scene started, something in his chest loosened.

"Yeah," he murmured. "Maybe you’re right."

Adam chuckled. "I’m always right."

Merlin let out a small laugh before shaking his head. "I should go. Thanks, Adam."

He hesitated for a second, gripping the phone a little tighter. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he blurted out, "Can we meet?"

There was a beat of silence on the other end. Merlin wasn’t sure what he expected; excitement, surprise, hesitation, but what he got was a pause, just long enough to make his stomach twist.

"Maybe someday," Adam finally said, but there was something else there too, something unreadable.

Merlin exhaled sharply, staring down at his feet. "Right. Yeah. I just—nevermind. Thanks again."

"Anytime. Break a leg."

Merlin ended the call, staring at the screen for a moment longer before tucking his phone away. When he turned back toward the set, the pressure that had been weighing him down felt just a little lighter.

He took a deep breath and stepped back toward his mark.

"Alright," he called to Gwaine. "Let’s do this."'

“Roll camera.”

Morgana arched a brow, but Gwaine exchanged a glance with her before gesturing for the crew to reset. “Fine. Rolling!”

The scene started again.

Merlin turned to Arthur, and this time, the emotions snapped into place.

“Why did you lie to me?” His voice cracked slightly, a tremor of something raw threading through the accusation. His character wasn’t just demanding an answer, he was desperate for it, torn between anger and something far more vulnerable. “Was it easy for you? Looking me in the eye, telling me what I wanted to hear just to turn around and break it? Did you ever mean any of it? Or was I just another piece in whatever game you were playing?”

Arthur’s breath hitched, his posture faltering, as if the weight of the question had truly landed this time.

“Because I love you. I loved you.”

The line was scripted, but the way Arthur delivered it wasn’t. His voice was low, steady, and yet there was something else there, something real.
The silence that followed felt deafening.

“Cut,” Gwaine said, this time softer. He let out a long breath. “Finally.”

Morgana crossed her arms, nodding. “About time.”

Across the set, Gwen, who had been standing off to the side with her hands clasped tightly, let out a slow breath. She hadn’t moved the entire time, her eyes locked on Merlin, as if willing him to break through. When he finally did, her shoulders sagged, a quiet smile forming on her lips.
When they finally made it home, the house was quiet. Too quiet.

Arthur didn’t linger in the living room, didn’t stop in the kitchen like he sometimes did. There was no trace of his usual quiet presence; no lingering glances, no attempts at conversation. Just silence.

Merlin clenched his jaw and made his way upstairs, hesitating outside Arthur’s door. The space between them had always been strained, but this was different. Arthur’s door was open just enough for Merlin to see inside, where Arthur sat at his desk, his back turned, typing mindlessly on his laptop.
He wasn’t used to this. Arthur had always been there. Steady. Unyielding. And now… he wasn’t.

Merlin swallowed hard, something strange and unwelcome settling in his stomach. He lingered for a second longer before turning and walking away, shutting his own door behind him with a soft click.

Isn't this was what he wanted?

So why did it feel so much worse?

Chapter Text

Arthur had never thought of himself as fragile. But standing there by the car, waiting, he felt breakable in a way he hadn’t in years.

He watched Merlin from the corner of his eye, pretending to check his phone. Pretending he wasn’t silently pleading for him to get in the car. Pretending he wasn’t holding his breath, waiting for the moment Merlin decided he could trust him. Just a little.

But Merlin didn’t move forward. He stepped back and then again.

Arthur’s heart thudded once, painfully, before settling into a numb rhythm. He forced his gaze away as Merlin stayed on the steps.

He nodded, like it was fine. Like it didn’t matter. Like it didn’t feel like Merlin had just slammed another door in his face.

Arthur drove off without a word, because he didn’t have any left to give.

"Arthur? What's wrong?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arthur pressed his thumb against the bridge of his nose, on the verge of tears. "Leon, I don't know what to do anymore. I thought... I thought after everything, maybe Merlin was starting to trust me. But today, he wouldn't even get in the car. He stepped back."

There was a pause on the line before Leon said, gentle but firm, "Maybe you need to give him space. Just... don't hover. Let him come to you if he wants to."

Arthur exhaled shakily, nodding even though Leon couldn’t see him. "I just... what if he never does?"

"Then at least you'll know you didn't push him," Leon said quietly. "Just be there, Arthur. But let him make the choice."

Arthur ended the call feeling hollowed out, but he pocketed his phone and exited the car. He would give Merlin space. Even if it killed him.

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The set was chaos. Organized, practiced, professional chaos, but chaos all the same. Arthur stood back, watching it unfold with a detached sort of numbness. He watched as Merlin had walked into the studio like nothing had happened. Calm. Composed. He sat in the makeup chair, let the artists work on his face like they weren’t brushing over the remnants of something Arthur couldn’t stop thinking about. Like he hadn’t stepped away from Arthur that morning and left him standing there, cracked open in the silence.

Merlin joked with Gwen. Greeted Gwaine with a faint smile. Answered Morgana’s briefing with a nod, as if the pressure of the scene wasn’t hanging over them both. As if Arthur wasn’t standing across the lot feeling like the only one who hadn’t been let in on the script.

Merlin was the first to move onto the set. His gait was smooth, deliberate and Arthur followed a few beats later, slower, heavier. He hit his marks silently, his body moving out of memory rather than will. Each step was measured, his posture adjusted with automatic precision. He was aware of the cameras, the angles, the choreography of it all, but it felt distant.

His focus was on Merlin, standing there across from him. Close, but impossibly far.

“Action.”

Merlin spoke first. His line fell flat. Hollow. Mechanical. Each syllable leaving his mouth with precision and no weight behind them. There was no anger, no heartbreak, just empty words.

Gwaine’s sharp “Cut!” rang out before Arthur could even open his mouth. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating.

They reset. Again. Merlin stepped forward, repeated the line. It was the same. Empty. Lifeless.

Another cut.

Arthur stood still, feeling the weight of each failed take settle into his chest like stones. He could hear Gwaine snapping out directions, Morgana’s tight reminders about the time limit, Lancelot shifting behind the camera.

Take after take, Merlin tried. Arthur watched him try. But the fire wasn’t there. The desperation. The betrayal. None of it made it into Merlin’s voice.

Arthur’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He stayed where he was, because Leon had told him to. Because if he moved now, it wouldn’t be to help.

It would be to break.

By the 4th retake, Arthur could barely stand to watch Merlin’s hollow performance. His gaze darted to Gwaine, whose patience was clearly thinning, then to Morgana, who checked her watch and muttered something sharp under her breath.

Arthur’s throat burned. He was desperate to reach out, to do something, but all he could do was watch.

Merlin was breaking in front of him.

And Arthur couldn’t save him because Merlin wasn’t there. Not really. He stood across from Arthur in body, but his mind, his heart, they were locked away somewhere Arthur couldn’t reach. Couldn’t follow. And wasn’t allowed to try.

Gwaine’s sharp “Cut!” rang out immediately, followed by a heavy silence.

Arthur exhaled, rolling his shoulders back. It was all automatic. But nothing about it felt right.

Arthur forced himself to stay still. Leon’s words echoed in his mind, "don’t hover, give him space." It was the hardest thing he had ever done. Every instinct screamed at him to close the distance, to ground Merlin in the moment, to remind him he wasn’t alone.

But Arthur stayed where he was. Rooted to the spot. Unmoving. And it was tearing him apart.

He watched Merlin falter through take after take. Watched as the weight of it settled in his shoulders. Heard Gwaine’s frustration sharpen with each cut, each snapped direction.

By the sixth attempt, Gwaine finally snapped. “Merlin, if you can’t do this, just tell me! Because I am this close to cutting the scene entirely.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened before he spoke, voice quiet but cutting through the thick silence.

“Maybe we should take ten.”

His voice wasn’t sharp or commanding. It was quiet, low, but it carried enough weight to slice through the tension hanging over the set.

Arthur didn’t wait for anyone to say anything else. He turned away. Stepped back from the set entirely.

It was the only thing he could give Merlin now. Space. To remind him he wasn’t alone.

But Merlin wouldn’t hear that. Not from him.

So Arthur walked away.

Behind his trailer, he pulled out his phone. Took a breath. Made the call.

“Hey, Merlin,” he said, the voice app lowering his voice instinctively, softening the edges until it wasn’t quite his own anymore. Until it was Adam’s; familiar and safe. The way Merlin liked it.

“Hey.” Merlin’s voice was thin, frayed.

Arthur closed his eyes. “Merlin? You okay? You sound upset.”

"Not really. I'm completely botching this scene, and everyone is waiting for me to get my act together. I don't even know what’s wrong."

Arthur listened, his hand clenched tight around the phone, each word from Merlin carving deeper. He offered what comfort he could, knowing it wasn't enough, but it was all he had while hiding behind the voice of Adam. Every word he spoke was a quiet betrayal of who he really was, but it was the only way Merlin would let him close.

And then Merlin asked to meet.

Arthur’s pulse stuttered violently. For a second, he couldn’t breathe. His throat tightened with the force of everything he wanted to say, everything he couldn’t.

He almost said yes. Almost.

But he forced the word down, biting it back like it physically hurt. Because Merlin didn’t want to meet him. He wanted to meet Adam. And Arthur wasn’t Adam. No matter how much he wished he could be the one Merlin turned to, it wasn’t him Merlin wanted. It was the person Arthur had created, the safe distance, the lie. And Arthur couldn’t give him that; not without losing what little of himself he still had left.

"Maybe someday," he murmured. The lie sat heavy on his tongue, but he kept his voice even, soft.

When the call ended, Arthur let his head fall back against the trailer wall behind him, eyes closing briefly as the weight of what he was doing settled heavy in his chest.

“Maybe someday,” he murmured again. And hated himself for it.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next take, Merlin was different. Arthur saw it immediately; the shift in Merlin’s posture, the deliberate set of his shoulders. His gaze was sharper, clearer.

And then.

“Why did you lie to me?”

Arthur held still. The words were precise this time, sharp in the way they needed to be, but they didn’t crack at the edges like before. They didn’t bleed. They were crafted, performed, and Arthur felt that difference like a stone sinking in his gut.

The next lines came, each one perfectly measured. “Was it easy for you? Looking me in the eye, telling me what I wanted to hear just to turn around and break it? Did you ever mean any of it? Or was I just another piece in whatever game you were playing?”

Arthur flinched, but not because the words cut deep. Because they didn’t. Because Merlin was somewhere else again, behind a wall Arthur couldn’t reach through.

“Because I love you. I loved you.”

The line was scripted, but the way Arthur delivered it wasn’t. His voice was low, steady, and yet there was something else there; something real. Something that felt too close to breaking. The weight behind the words wasn’t crafted; it was raw, pulled from somewhere deep and unspoken. And as the line left his mouth, Arthur knew it didn’t matter. Not really. Because Merlin wasn’t there to hear it. Not the way Arthur needed him to.

When Gwaine called cut, Arthur didn’t move. He stood there, watching Merlin drop the emotion as easily as taking off a costume. The relief from the crew washed over the set, a tangible shift, but Arthur couldn’t feel it. He wasn’t relieved. He was wrecked.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At home, Arthur didn’t linger by Merlin’s door or in the kitchen. Didn’t hover like he had on so many nights before. He walked straight to his room and to his desk, sat down, and opened his laptop with methodical precision, as if the task itself could anchor him.

His inbox was a mess; Camelot Technology reports, project updates, inquiries from the board, a handful of proposals flagged for his attention. He answered them one by one, fingers moving automatically over the keys. Approve. Reject. Clarify. His responses were sharp, efficient, and impersonal. It was work he had done a thousand times, but tonight, every email felt like moving through molasses. Each word typed felt heavier than the last.

He heard the quiet creak of the floorboard in the hall. The pause in front of his door. Merlin, hesitating.

Arthur didn’t look up. He didn’t move.

The door clicked shut a moment later, muffling the silence that followed.

Arthur’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. For a long moment, he simply stared at the half-written reply on his screen, then slowly lowered his hands into his lap.

He closed his eyes. Inhaled through his nose. Exhaled slowly.

He reminded himself this was what Merlin needed. Space. Freedom to come to Arthur on his own terms, if ever. But it didn’t stop the hollowness in his chest from deepening.

He wondered if it ever stopped feeling like this. If waiting for someone who wasn’t ready ever got easier, or if you just learned to live around the ache.

Chapter Text

“SCANDAL AT CAMTECH: CEO ARTHUR PENDRAGON CAST AS LEAD IN HUSBAND'S MOVIE

In a shocking turn of events that’s sent shockwaves through both the tech and entertainment industries, Arthur Pendragon, the notoriously private Founder and CEO of Camelot Technologies (CamTech), has been revealed as not only secretly married to actor Merlin Emrys, but also starring as the male lead in Emrys’ latest film; one funded by CamTech itself.

Industry analysts are calling it an unprecedented conflict of interest. Questions are being raised about whether Pendragon’s personal involvement compromised CamTech’s business integrity. As CEO of one of the most powerful technology firms in the country, Pendragon’s decision to step away from the boardroom and onto a movie set has shareholders and investors alike questioning his priorities.

“This isn’t just about a CEO moonlighting as an actor,” one anonymous source close to the board revealed. “It’s about financial accountability, power dynamics, and whether CamTech’s leadership can be trusted to make decisions in the best interest of the company.”

Adding fuel to the fire, critics argue that Pendragon’s position as financier and lead actor in a film starring his spouse creates ethical concerns surrounding favoritism, misuse of corporate funds, and exploitation of power.

Neither Pendragon nor Emrys has made an official statement, though CamTech has announced an upcoming press conference where the couple is expected to appear together.

For now, speculation runs wild, and the stakes couldn’t be higher.”

Arthur stared at the headline flashing across his tablet, the text bold and unforgiving. Below it, pictures of him and Merlin filled the screen; some from the movie set, others clearly taken from private moments when neither of them had realized they were being watched. One photo in particular made his stomach twist: Merlin, looking utterly exhausted, slumped in his chair between takes, his head tilted back, his throat bared in a vulnerable line. Arthur stood behind him in the background, barely in frame, but his gaze was unmistakable; focused, intent, as if Merlin were the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

But it wasn’t just the movie and the marriage that was making headlines.

Rumours were flying across both the entertainment and tech industries. Articles accused Arthur of nepotism and abusing his power as CEO. Questions flooded social media and financial networks: Why was CamTech’s CEO acting in a film? Was company money funding his personal project? Could shareholders trust Arthur to keep business and personal separate?

And why had he cast himself as the lead opposite his husband?

By midday, Leon was in the house, pacing in front of Arthur’s desk with tightly clenched fists. “You need to get ahead of this,” Leon said bluntly, not bothering to sit. “We have shareholders asking questions, clients calling me personally. The board is going to want a statement, Arthur. And an appearance.”

Arthur closed his tablet with a snap and rubbed a hand over his jaw, feeling the beginnings of a headache pounding behind his eyes. “A press conference?”

“And a party,” Leon confirmed, his tone clipped. “Something polished. Controlled. You and Merlin. Together. You greet the shareholders, reassure everyone that everything is under control. That the marriage doesn’t compromise CamTech’s stability. That you temporarily stepping away from your role as CEO to star in your husband’s movie isn’t compromising your judgment.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t a scandal. I used my own money.”

Leon didn’t argue. He just gave Arthur a level, measured look. “They don't know that. It’s something they want explained. Cleanly.”

Arthur let out a breath, slow and sharp, through his nose. “I’ll talk to Merlin.”

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Merlin didn’t sleep much. The constant buzz of notifications dragged him awake before dawn. By the time the sun had risen, his name was trending alongside Arthur’s, and the headlines were everywhere.

He sat in the living room, his coffee cold, his phone vibrating against the table like a constant warning. It wasn’t the headlines that made his stomach twist; it was the comments. It was people speculating about him, about Arthur. About why they’d married. About what Merlin was getting out of it.

“Golden cage,” someone had called it.

“Strategic,” another.

“Sleeping his way into relevance.”

He silenced the phone. It didn’t matter. He told himself it didn’t matter.

But then Gwaine’s name flashed across the screen.

Merlin sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face before he answered. “Yeah?”

“Tell me you’re alive,” Gwaine said without preamble.

“Barely.”

There was a pause. Then Lancelot’s voice came in. “You don’t have to talk to us now. We’re here.”

Before Merlin could reply, Gwen’s voice joined in, quiet but firm. “We’re handling things on set. You don’t need to worry about production today.”

Merlin closed his eyes. “Thanks.”

Gwaine hesitated. “You sure you’re okay?”

Merlin looked at the headlines again, at the sharp words and photos dissecting his life, and lied. “Yeah.”

The silence after his words hung thick between them, broken only by the faint hum of the phone vibrating on the table once again. A different tone this time, deeper and more insistent. Merlin didn’t have to look to know who it was. That tone had been assigned years ago.

His father.

For a long second, he simply stared at the device, watching it tremble against the surface like it was impatient for him to answer. Merlin’s stomach coiled tight. He considered ignoring it, but he knew better. It would keep coming until he picked up.

With a resigned breath, Merlin swiped to answer and pressed the phone to his ear.

“Merlin.” His father’s voice was clipped, sharp enough to make Merlin sit up straighter instinctively. “What the hell is going on?”

Merlin exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. “You’ve seen it.”

“Of course I’ve seen it,” his father snapped. “It’s everywhere. Do you understand what this looks like? Do you understand what this is doing to our family name?”

Merlin’s grip tightened around the phone. “It’s my life.”

“It’s not just yours!” his father bit out. “You married a man who controls a multi-billion dollar company, and now you’ve dragged him into the entertainment industry? There are people, even our own relatives, whispering that this was manipulation, Merlin. Whether you’ve compromised him. Whether you’re—” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale. “You should have told us.”

Merlin’s jaw clenched. “You didn't approve the first time.”

His father’s voice turned colder. “And now you’ve got every shareholder from London to Hong Kong wondering if you’re some... pretty omega playing house with their money.”

The words sliced deeper than Merlin expected. He took a slow breath, trying to push the sting away. “I’ll handle it.”

“You’ll fix it,” his father corrected.

And then there was a pause. For a moment, Merlin thought maybe his father would say something other than sodding orders. But then the call ended, abrupt as it had begun.

When he hung up, he sat in the quiet for a long time, staring at nothing.

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Merlin was curled up in the corner of the sofa when he heard Arthur’s footsteps, measured and quiet, crossing the floor toward him. He didn’t look up. He didn’t have to. He could feel Arthur’s presence, the tension he always carried now, like he was holding himself together with threads.

He tightened his grip on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through articles he’d already read, comments he already knew by heart. The words blurred together now; scandal, favoritism, abuse of power.

“You’ve seen the articles,” Arthur said. His voice soft. Careful. Too careful.

Merlin’s jaw clenched. “Hard not to,” he replied, keeping his gaze on his screen.

Arthur didn’t press. He didn’t ask how Merlin was. He didn’t try to close the gap between them, or sit beside him like he used to. He stood there, holding himself back, as if Merlin had given him no choice.

Merlin felt something cold settle behind his ribs. He kept his gaze on his phone even though he wasn’t reading a word. He wanted Arthur to do something. Anything. Reach out. Call him out. Fight him.

But Arthur stayed where he was.

“Leon wants us at a press conference,” Arthur said after a moment. “And a party. We greet the shareholders. Show them it’s... fine.”

Merlin’s laugh was bitter, a quiet exhale through his nose. “Of course he does.”

He glanced up, expecting Arthur to say something. Instead, Arthur was watching him carefully. Waiting. Merlin’s throat tightened at the look. It wasn’t expectant. It wasn’t hopeful. It was… resigned.

“I won’t make you,” Arthur said quietly. “But I have to ask.”

Merlin’s hands curled tighter around his phone. His chest ached with something he didn’t want to name. He looked at Arthur, really looked at him, and realised Arthur wasn’t holding himself like he was waiting anymore. He was letting go.

“I’ll do it,” Merlin said. The words felt hollow in his mouth. “I’m not going to be the reason you lose your company.”

Arthur nodded once, slow. Like it cost him something.

And then… nothing.

Merlin waited. For a word, a gesture, anything that might feel real. But Arthur stayed still. His hands remained loose at his sides.

And then, after what felt like a lifetime stretched too thin, Arthur gave him one final, unreadable look, and then he turned away.

Merlin stayed frozen in place, staring at the space where Arthur had stood, feeling the hollowness of the room deepen.

And wasn’t this what Merlin had asked for?

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Arthur didn’t look back as he left the room. The weight of the conversation hung heavy on his shoulders, but there was nothing more he could give Merlin. Not without being asked. Not anymore.

He made his way down the hall, his steps steady even though his chest ached. When he reached his office, he didn’t sit. He didn’t need to. He just stood there for a moment, breathing through the silence, grounding himself.

And then he picked up his phone.

The missed calls from Uther glared at him, waiting. Ygraine’s quiet text "Call us" felt heavier now.

Arthur pressed the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

He’d used his own money for the film.

Two rings.

“Arthur.” His mother’s voice was calm, but there was tension beneath it. “We’ve been waiting.”

He let out a slow breath.

And then Uther came on the line. “Tell us what’s happening.”

Arthur exhaled slowly, forcing his tone to remain steady. “I funded the project with my personal money. Not CamTech’s. The accountants verified everything. Leon signed off. There’s no conflict of interest, no misuse of company funds.”

It was one of the first things he’d made sure of when he agreed to fund the project. Not CamTech’s budget. Not shareholder investment. Just his own personal finances. Arthur had known the risks, but he hadn’t cared. Because it had been Merlin.

There was silence on the other end, broken only by Ygraine’s quiet hum of acknowledgment.

“It’s the truth,” Arthur added. “I kept CamTech separate from this. But that doesn’t stop people from twisting the story.”

Uther’s voice was calm when it came. “They’ll twist anything if they think it serves them.”

Arthur’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“Is this why you stepped away from the board?” Uther asked.

Arthur hesitated. “Partly. Leon’s running day-to-day operations. I needed time to manage the film project directly.”

Arthur continued, keeping his tone level. “Merlin’s my husband. That alone was going to raise eyebrows no matter what I did.” He paused, then continued, “But the project was sound. The film was worth backing. And I wasn’t going to let other investors control it… or him.” He hadn’t meant to go further. But the image was there, sharp and unshakable: Merlin standing stiff and silent after his last meeting with that producer. His jaw had been tight, his eyes distant, like he wasn’t fully present. Like he was holding himself together by habit alone.

There was silence on the line. Ygraine spoke first. “You funded it to protect him.”

Arthur didn’t answer immediately. He let the pause settle before replying, “I funded it because it deserved to be made the right way.”

Uther’s voice was quieter this time. “And being casted as the lead opposite Merlin?”

Arthur’s fingers flexed once at his side before he forced them still. “It’s a romance film. I didn’t want anyone else… I knew the risk. I took it anyway. Because it was Merlin.

Another pause.

Ygraine’s voice was soft. “And you don’t regret it.”

Arthur stared out the window. “No,” he said. “Not for a second.”

On the other end of the line, Uther sighed. “We’ll be at the press conference.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said, quieter now. “That’s all I need.”

There was a beat of quiet understanding, and then the line went dead.

After they hung up, Morgana messaged almost immediately.

“You’re lucky they like you,” she texted by way of greeting.

Arthur let out a soft chuckle. “Some days.”

“You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” Arthur replied. “Trying to give Merlin space.”

“You’re giving him so much space he probably doesn’t know where you are,” Morgana remarked. “Don’t wait too long, Arthur.”

Arthur paused for a moment. Then: “I won’t.”

“See you at the party,” Morgana added. “Try not to look like you’re dying inside.”

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Later that night, Merlin’s phone buzzed again.

Adam.

"Saw the press conference announcement. You holding up?"

Merlin stared at the message for a long time, thumb hovering over the screen.

He could answer. He could say something easy. Fine. Holding on. Still breathing.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he locked the screen and set the phone face down on the table.

He wasn’t sure who he was anymore in all of this.

The next message came a few minutes later.

"I’m here if you want to talk."

Merlin didn’t answer that either.