Fic: Merlin; Camelot's Sweethearts Part 3; Reel Merlin

[definewisdom]

Part 1
Part 2



She wasn’t wonderful.

Sophia was as irritating, smug and vicious a person as Merlin had ever had the misfortune to meet, though Arthur didn’t see it. She was half French, as she took great pleasure in telling Merlin, repeatedly, and whenever Arthur came anywhere near her, she would flutter her eyelashes in a way that made Merlin think she had something in her eye, but Arthur seemed to find charming.

There was something utterly fake about Sophia, but Merlin could never quite put his finger on what it was. He had thought he was used to fake; he lived around actors and people whose jobs were to lie through their teeth. There was nothing real in his life, as far as he was concerned, except him. But then Sophia came in and suddenly he realised that everything was real but her.

It was not any one thing, not her accent, nor her breasts, nor the way she glared at Merlin when he interrupted her time alone with Arthur. It was everything. Her smile was fake, her clothes were fake, her attitude was fake. The way she walked seemed fake, even the way she ate, taking tiny mouthfuls and sucking them off the fork.

He mentioned it to Arthur once, and only once, and for the first time the vase that was being thrown across the room was actually aimed at his head.

Arthur stopped going to his therapy sessions, as well, because ‘I’m happy, Merlin. I don’t need to talk about my problems when I don’t have any.’

Merlin could list Arthur’s problems - right down to the fact that one of his toenails was growing too long and making holes in his socks - and the first thing on that list was Sophia. She was the root cause of many of the other problems.

Filming had started on Uther’s new project a week after Christmas. At first it had been fine. Merlin had rearranged a few costume fittings because of dates with Sophia and he had smiled and nodded before bitching to Gwen as soon as he got out of the room, but it had all been fine. Then the production had started in earnest and Arthur… was nowhere to be found. Romantic walks in the park, or out partying late into the night, turning up in the morning hung-over, with sunglasses on permanently because his eyes were so bloodshot.

Merlin was considering adding in ‘bodily fluid charges’ to his wages because the amount of vomit he had cleaned up from Arthur’s room in the last week was beyond a joke, not that it had ever been amusing. But before, Arthur would get angry or petulant, go out on a bender one night and then sleep for a day. It would never last longer than a weekend and never interfere with his work. Now it was every night, and Merlin, forced while they were on-set to live in the room next door, had to put up with him and Sophia rolling in drunk every night for another round of enthusiastic sex.

It was probably the worst week of his life. Worse than the week his hamster had died, worse than the week he and Will had not spoken. It was hell.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled from the next room. There were no civil conversations between them any more, just commands and answers that were polite enough not to get him fired and arsy enough to keep Merlin from exploding. “Get in here!”

He walked round as slowly as he could, restraining himself from yelling back “Fuck off!” because he liked his job, he really did, he just did not like this new Arthur who had no sense of responsibility or respect for other people.

“What do you want?” he asked, keeping his face blank as he took in the scene that was Arthur’s room. The star was sitting on the end of his bed, his shirt off and Sophia was sitting next to him in her underwear, smiling like the cat who had got the cream as she ran her fingers up and down Arthur’s back and whispered things in his ear that made him smirk. As soon as Arthur looked up, though, the smirk was gone.

“Filming starts tomorrow, Merlin,” he said, as though Merlin needed reminding of that. Uther had been calling him every day demanding to know what Arthur thought he was doing and reminding Merlin that it was his job to make sure Arthur turned up to his appointments and got all his messages. Merlin did not like dealing with Arthur’s father, he especially did not like lying to the man because the producer had some sort of sixth sense which meant he could always tell, even over the phone - even over email - when Merlin was lying.

“Yes, it does,” he agreed. Sticking to the facts seemed a safe bet, despite the fact that he wanted to scream at Arthur and show him what a conniving bitch was sat next to him.

“My costume for the first scenes isn’t ready,” Arthur continued.

“No, it isn’t,” Merlin agreed again, through gritted teeth.

“Why isn’t it ready, Merlin?” the actor asked, his voice as dangerous as Merlin had ever heard it. His assistant drew in a deep breath and a little voice inside his head that sounded a lot like Will told him to go for it.

“Perhaps because you didn’t show up to a fitting until a few days ago,” he said. He meant to stop there, but it seemed that once he had started talking, he couldn’t stop himself. “And given the amount of costumes they have to make, I hardly think it’s fair on them to have put it off for that long and then demand that they make it in such a short amount of time. They don’t work for you, Arthur.”

“But you do, Merlin,” Arthur snapped out, interrupting his assistant’s tirade. “And I think it’s about time that I reminded you that as your employer I deserve your respect. You don’t talk back to me like that, and as far as you’re concerned, my name is Mr Pendragon… understand? I’ve been far too lenient with you.” Sophia was smiling as she kissed Arthur’s shoulder and Merlin could feel rage burning in his chest, although the voice, now sounding a lot like his mother, asked if it wasn’t a little jealousy as well.

“When you deserve my respect, Mr Pendragon,” he said, putting as much sarcasm as he dared into the address, “I’ll give it to you… may I leave?”

“You’re treading on thin ice, Merlin,” Arthur told him, “I could have you fired for your insolence.”

“Arthur,” Sophia said, and the young star’s face softened as he turned to her. His soppy doe-eyed look was almost enough to make Merlin throw up. “I think we have better things to be doing… just leave it for now. I’m sure he’ll sort everything out.”

Arthur nodded and leaned in to kiss her, pausing only long enough to speak three words.

“Get out, Merlin.”

“My pleasure, Mr Pendragon,” Merlin snapped back, turning smartly on his heel and stalking out of the room, his hands balled into fists.

Merlin was not a violent person. He tended to avoid it unless it was focussed on him or one of his friends or family, but in this case he would make an exception. If he could just have one good shot at Arthur’s face right now… or Sophia’s.

Despite himself, he headed down to the costume department immediately. There was an almost universal groan as he stepped in the door and he smiled apologetically.

Uther’s personal assistant called him as soon as he had managed to get away from the costume department and complained that Arthur had managed to avoid the meeting with his father that morning as well and Uther wanted to speak to Merlin very seriously. When Merlin finally made it up to Arthur’s rooms again, Sophia was, thankfully, gone, and Merlin was in a worse mood than he had left in.

“You can’t just blow off meetings like that, Arthur,” he said, risking calling his employer by his first name again. There was no reaction from Mr Pendragon, so he assumed it was alright. “That’s the third time I’ve had to explain to your father that you were unwell, or I forgot to give you the message, or there was an emergency phone call because your budgerigar had died…”

“You told him my budgie had died?” Arthur asked poking his head out from around the door of the bathroom. His face was half covered in shaving foam and Merlin had a sudden urge to smile at the domesticity of the scene, if the ghost of Sophia had not been hanging over his head. “He’ll never believe that.”

“He never believes any of it,” Merlin said with a shrug, picking up a book from Arthur’s desk and reading the blurb without really looking at it. “Next time I think I’ll tell him that you’re out battling a cockatrice, or the Questing Beast, and he’ll just nod and glare at me like he always does.”

“What’s a cockatrice?” Arthur asked, his voice muffled as he continued shaving.

“Some monster or other…” Merlin said with a shrug. “That’s not the point though… The problem isn’t my excuses. Please, try and turn up tomorrow. I don’t know if I can take much more of this…”

“Come on, Merlin,” Arthur emerged from the shower room, a towel slung round his neck and a wicked smile on his face. “You know what it’s like… well, you probably don’t, but you can imagine. With Sophia it’s all so… new.” The actor smiled into the middle distance and Merlin wondered when the swelling background music would begin because obviously such true love would need background music, probably something in the string family.

“I know… but you’ve still got a job to do, and I don’t know if I can keep on doing this,” Merlin said with a sigh, putting the book back down as his phone rang again.

“Was that why you were so out of sorts this morning?” Arthur asked and Merlin resisted the urge to gape at him because, honestly, him out of sorts this morning? Anyone would have been out of sorts if they had had two hours of sleep the night before, been woken up by angry phone calls and had to live with the knowledge that their crush of going on six years thought they were in love with a malicious, manipulative harpy who twisted everything.

“Probably,” he replied through gritted teeth, reminding himself that Arthur’s infatuations rarely lasted more than a couple of weeks. His relationship with Sophia was doomed to a sudden and tragic end within the week.

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do.”

But Arthur’s relationship with Sophia lasted out the week, and then some, and Arthur failed miserably to keep up with his appointments. Merlin would remind him of them and Arthur would be on the phone to Sophia or saying goodbye to Sophia and tell Merlin that of course he would remember and didn’t he have somewhere else to be. Then Merlin would get a phone call two hours later and it would be Uther or Gaius or Morgana asking him where the hell Arthur was and why had he suddenly forgotten how to do his job?

To say that their relationship was strained was an understatement. It had reached cold war levels by the time filming started in earnest, and everyone on the production team knew, and everyone on the production team was behind Merlin.

“I know it’s not your fault,” Morgana told him as he decided to deliver Arthur’s apology in person for once (well, he had wanted to get away from ‘here, Sophie, try this strawberry dipped in chocolate… whoops, you seem to have melted chocolate on you, how about I clean that up with my tongue’?!) “I’ve never seen Arthur this obsessed with anyone before, even me.” She spoke without vanity. It had been true, Arthur had a habit of becoming addicted to people, so that he couldn’t seem to go a day without them. No one who had not met the man, and quite a few people who had, would never have believed he could be so clingy.

“He’s really sorry he can’t make it,” Merlin repeated, “and I’m sure he’ll get back to you as soon as he can.”

“I’m not,” she said with a small huff.

“Look, it’s just, he has so many other things to be doing,” Merlin continued, playing devil’s advocate as best he could.

“Like Sophia…” Morgana asked with a twist of a smile, arching an eyebrow. Merlin kept his face as blank as he could. “It’s okay, Merlin. He’s an idiot and he doesn’t deserve you, you know.”

“I know,” he said, giving her a half grin.

***

Filming started, as it always did and suddenly Arthur was almost himself again. Sophia wasn’t allowed on set - Uther refused to have anyone not directly connected with the film around - and while she was gone and he was on stage Arthur seemed almost himself again, although he was still hungover a good proportion of the time. Off set, however, he was almost exactly the same. He ignored Merlin except to order him around and tell him to get lost.

Excalibur was, in essence a ‘retelling of Arthurian legend in a modern setting’ and Merlin was not wholly convinced by it. Uther had decided that it was time to honour the namesakes of both his son and his production company, Camelot. Arthur, naturally, played the young King, Morgana was his Queen, Guinevere, and a relative unknown, Lance, Morgana’s current beau, was playing Sir Lancelot. The crew and actors had spent a while laughing at that, but despite the hilarity, he was actually quite good at his role. Merlin’s own namesake was being played by a well known older British actor, which had led to further comments from the crew. Excalibur itself was a gun. The general consensus among the crew was that it was appalling and would no doubt be a blockbuster hit.

“Hey,” Gwen slipped over to where he was standing watching one of the many screens dotted around the place. “Taking a breather?” she asked. Merlin nodded, his eyes not leaving the image of Arthur on screen.

“I think I should probably watch some of this, considering I’m going to have to help Arthur and Gaius handle publicity, and field questions,” he said idly. “Not to mention - phones aren’t allowed in here.”

“I know, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Gwen took a deep breath before sitting down in one of the chairs that had been left out behind them. “Sometimes I just want to be alone… not that I mean you should leave. I meant, without my phone and Morgana’s agent calling and everyone else. With the Academy Awards coming up everyone’s yelling at everyone else.”

“It is a bit hectic,” Merlin agreed. Just then Morgana walked onto the screen and he nudged Gwen’s arm slightly.

“They do look good together on camera, don’t they?” she asked, a little wistfully.

“And apart,” Merlin said in agreement. He watched the silent images for a minute before a slow wicked smile spread over his face. “Hey Gwen, want to play film dub?” He shot her a look and she nodded quickly. “I’ll be Arthur, you be Morgana.”

“Why do I always have to be Morgana?” she asked, but more as a joke than a real protest.

“Because if I say something rude as her and you let it slip out, then I’m afraid of waking up one morning with her coming at me with scissors,” he told her. “Okay… ready?” The Arthur on screen began to speak.

“I am afraid that our love can never be, ” Merlin said, lowering his voice in his best imitation of Arthur, which was appalling. “I have to go on a quest. ” Gwen chuckled beside him and almost didn’t notice as Morgana’s mouth began to move.

“A Quest? How terribly exciting, where will you go? ”

“To the ends of my ego. ”

“That far?”

“Yes, Although I am afraid it may take me many years to reach it, for my ego is terribly large.”

“I know. But what are you searching for? ”

“A new personality. ”

“Really? Why? ”

“I’m sure you’ve noticed how big a… prat I am.” Merlin said, pausing as the Arthur on screen looked away dramatically.

“Merlin!” Gwen hissed at him.

“What?” Merlin asked, “It’s true… come on Gwen, Morgana’s talking.”

“Fine.” She looked back at the screen. “But Arthur, how will you ever stop being a prat? You are such a large one.”

“It may be difficult, but if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s me… I am truly the best at everything after all, even if I do say so myself. ”

“You’re the only one who thinks so. ”

“Like I said: I do say so myself. ”

“CUT!” A voice yelled across the scene and the two actors on stage glared out in irritation.

“What was wrong with that one?” Arthur could be heard to ask, even from the darkened end of the hall that Merlin and Gwen were in.

“The lighting’s off…” the director’s voice rang out. “We’ll have to fiddle around with it for a little longer.” He walked away from the set and began to shout up at someone. “I said I wanted it dark! What part of dark do you not understand?”

“If it gets any darker you won’t be able to see them,” Gwen noted.

“Sounds good to me,” Merlin muttered back. His friend gave him a look of deep sympathy and reached out to pat him on the arm.

“Sophia still?” she asked. Merlin just nodded. He had had the same conversation with Gwen a million times since the Sophia situation had begun and she did not need to hear him bitch about the girl any more. “Does Arthur know you hate her?”

“I think the man on the moon knows I hate her,” Merlin said bitterly. “So no. I imagine Arthur has no idea. He is officially the world’s most oblivious man, after all.”

“I didn’t know there had been a new poll,” Gwen said, trying to lighten the situation. “Does Arthur know he got another award?”

“If he did, I don’t think he would have won,” Merlin commented, but as soon as the words were out of his mouth the clarion call of his employer rang out across the set.

“Merlin? Merlin? Honestly, where is that idiot? I told him to be ready…”

“I think that’s my cue,” Merlin muttered. “I’ll see you later. If I haven’t been arrested for bludgeoning his brains out with a light stand.”

“Just tell him,” were Gwen’s last words of parting advice. “He might not take it as badly as you think he will.”

“Merlin!” Arthur called out as soon as he caught sight of him. “Coffee… black, two sugars… now Merlin. I want it before we start filming again. But the way this is going we’ll probably be sitting here until next Christmas.”

He didn’t tell Arthur, not in so many words, anyway. He just decided to make himself scarce when Sophia was around and leave Arthur written reminders rather than coming in to speak to him. It didn’t work as well, but at least there was proof that it wasn’t his fault any more, which meant that Arthur had to take some responsibility. The first time Uther cornered his son and demanded to know what he was up to, Merlin felt a hint of guilt gnaw at his stomach as he stood on the sidelines watching.

“I left five messages with your PA, Arthur, surely one of them must have got to you. You were supposed to be in the studio at six this morning so we could film the night scene…”

“Father, I-” Arthur began, but Uther was not finished.

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing it is when my own son can’t be bothered to do what is required of him? I have never been more ashamed in my life…”

“Father, I-”

“It was my fault,” Merlin butted in, grimacing internally as soon as the words crossed his lips. He had sworn he would not do it again, but Arthur was standing there looking so crestfallen and pathetic and un-Arthur that he had to do something. That was his job, wasn’t it: to keep Arthur out of trouble?

“Your fault?” Uther turned to him and Merlin gulped at the sudden redirection of all the rage onto him. He was dimly aware of Arthur’s grateful smile out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes, sir. I got the date wrong…”

“Five times?” Uther asked, and Merlin could see that he did not believe him.

“Yes, I’ve been having a strange week and I’ve been a day behind since Sunday, it’s all been very strange. I could have sworn today was Tuesday, sir, and Arthur keeps reminding me, but it must have all got mixed up somewhere along the line.”

“Is this true?” Uther turned to Arthur slightly and his son nodded quickly.

“Yes, father. Merlin’s been out of it all week, I’ve been yelling at him about it constantly. He’s been completely useless since the weekend.”

“Fine… but don’t let it happen again,” Uther said, capitulating, although Merlin was still not entirely sure that he believed them. “And as for you,” he turned back to Merlin, “make sure you do your job properly in future, and invest in a calendar.”

“Yes sir,” he said.

Suitably appeased, Uther left the room, his smart shoes clacking clumsily on the hard floor.

“That was close,” Arthur said as soon as his father was far enough away. He gave Merlin a cheeky grin and slung an arm around his shoulders. For a moment Merlin froze, his mind warring between relishing the moment and just enjoying standing there with Arthur bloody Pendragon draped over his shoulders, or shrugging off the arm and reminding Arthur that yes it was close and he had just lied for him again so the least Arthur could do was be grateful.

But he held his tongue and let Arthur’s arm remain around his neck until they were at the front door of the studio and Arthur pulled away suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest with nonchalance. Merlin shuffled a little uncomfortably for a moment before stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking out of the door.

Despite the almost cease fire, Sophia did not go anywhere and Merlin learnt not to mention her and not to question her presence. Arthur was twitchy whenever she wasn’t present and insufferable whenever she was, until the second Wednesday of February. In a rare break from the set, Arthur grabbed his assistant by the arm and led him out of the building, dragging him over to the car.

“Cancel all my appointments for the afternoon,” Arthur commanded and Merlin opened his mouth to protest, although he was more than a little confused at the situation. There was a part of his brain that still registered cancelling appointments was bad and would get them both into trouble. “There’s something more important to do.” Merlin supposed he should be thankful that Arthur had at least remembered to cancel the appointments this time, rather than just remembering not to show up.

He did as he was told, sending off a stream of messages as he was shoved unceremoniously into the car. He tried to ignore the fact that he was going to have to find somewhere in the next few days to reschedule those meetings and vitally important interviews to, but then Arthur was sitting next to him and fidgeting in such an un-Arthur-like manner that his attention was directed elsewhere.

“What’s up?” he asked tentatively. The last time Merlin had seen his employer like this it had been just before his messy break up with Morgana and had led to weeks of press frenzy, two of the worst nights of his life trying to convince Arthur that killing, either himself or other people, was not a viable option, and alcohol should only be imbibed in small quantities.

He did not want to go through that again, and if Sophia screwed him over, he was going to make her wish she had never been born… with pliers.

“What do you think of Sophia?” Arthur asked. Merlin gaped at the back of the famous blond head in utter disbelief. Even the driver coughed a little, and Merlin could see his eyes widen in the rear view mirror. Merlin was not the only one who had been subject to Arthur’s whims because of Sophia over the past month and a half.

Merlin was half-tempted to tell the truth, just open his mouth and let the vitriol, jealousy and anger roll out. But Arthur was avoiding looking at him and the fingers of his right hand were tapping out a rhythm on his thigh while his left leg vibrated - a sure sign of some inner turmoil. Now was not the time for the truth.

“I think you like her a lot,” he said diplomatically. He did not want to lie to Arthur, and he could not step over the line and say too much, he would call Morgana or Uther and ask them to go there for him.

“I know I do, but what do you think?” Arthur turned round to him and suddenly Merlin felt himself held in place by his gaze. He had never seen Arthur that intense outside of the cinema. It was a look he reserved in his films for the moments of greatest emotional weight, and that he was using it now, naturally, made Merlin swallow uncomfortably.

“She’s…” a witch, a bitch, a man-eating, gold-digging whore… “great,” his voice cracked slightly and he heard the driver cough under his breath, but Merlin couldn’t bring himself to break that look. “But you should be careful,” he added, unable to keep his mouth shut.

“Of what?” Arthur asked. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re like my father and you think she’s just after me for my money!” He flung his head back against the leather head rest, his lips pursed together in anger. “Merlin, I thought I could count on you to support me. Morgana keeps telling me she’s using me, but she’s just jealous, and my father tells me that he doesn’t approve, but I thought you’d understand.”

“Look, Arthur,” Merlin said, wondering how he could put into words everything he thought about Sophia, about how she made Arthur into something that he was not, and how she was manipulating him so easily. “It’s just… how much do you know about her, really?”

“I know I love her,” Arthur said immediately, and Merlin felt disappointment rise in his stomach, heavy and cold. He almost missed the next part as he let the words sink in. Arthur was in love and he had actually said the words, the ones he had always held back on before, even with Morgana. Merlin had joked about it, but Arthur had never said it before and now he had and it was about Sophia of all people. There were so many thoughts flying through his brain. He wanted to punch Arthur in the face until he saw sense, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to yell for the car to stop, but he just froze. And that was when he heard what came next. “I know I want to marry her.”

“You…” he said weakly, trying to remind himself to breathe. “Marry her?”

“Yes,” Arthur looked round at him again, his face set, but there was something almost vulnerable in his eyes that made Merlin realise that the actor thought he was taking a huge risk by telling Merlin that. He was serious about this, and Merlin knew that look. No matter what Merlin said, Arthur was never going to listen to him. “I know it’s quick, but I’ve never felt like this before…” Merlin nodded dumbly and bit his lip, wondering what god he had upset to make this happen. “And, I want you to help me choose the ring. I wanted to give her Mum’s, but I know my father won’t let me have it if he doesn’t approve of her… so.”

Merlin sagged down into his seat and wondered how seriously hurt he would be if he opened the door and rolled out of the car. They had to be going at forty miles an hour at least, a fall onto hard tarmac, he was in the centre of the road so that increased the likelihood of getting run over by another car. It would be less painful than this conversation though.

“Right… so we’re going to jewellery shops?” he asked, hating himself.

“Yes,” Arthur agreed, smiling faintly. “I didn’t want to ask Morgana, and you’re the closest thing to a girl I know…”

“Hey!” Merlin exclaimed, reaching out to push Arthur in irritation.

“You’re good at that kind of thing,” Arthur said with a shrug, “when I was with Morgana you always managed to choose her presents…” Merlin managed to read between the lines, a skill that he was adept at these days, and see what Arthur was really trying to say. ‘I’m scared, I want help and I trust you.” He sighed and knew that he was about to help the man he was sort of desperately (hopelessly) in love with buy an engagement ring for a woman he hated, who he was almost positive was the spawn of the devil.

Sometimes he was too nice for his own good.

Merlin was unsure how many jewellery shops there were in the greater London area, but he thought that, in the course of that day, he and Arthur must have visited almost every one of them. No ring was good enough for wonderful Sophie, no stone was perfect enough or big enough or shiny enough and Merlin was fed up by the time they got to shop three. Actually, Merlin was fed up by the time they left the car. After he had agreed to the shopping trip, he had to put up with Arthur waxing lyrical about Sophia and all her amazing qualities. By the time they got to the third shop, Merlin was ready to declare engagement rings the work of the devil and burn every jewellery shop in the world to the ground.

“What about this one?” he asked for what seemed like the millionth time.

“Too plain… I want her to have something spectacular, like her,” Arthur said and Merlin could see that even the shop assistant (to whom he was going to have to hand a privacy agreement in a minute) thought that Arthur was getting too cheesy there.

“Okay, how about the one with the rubies?” Merlin suggested, pointing to another corner of the display cabinet.

“Perhaps, but don’t you think that looks a little… tacky?” he asked. Merlin did, but that was not the point. The elegant rings were too understated, the elaborate ones were overstated; there was no perfect ring as far as Arthur was concerned.

“I think the sapphire is lovely, sir,” the smiling woman behind the counter said, with an edge to her voice that suggested that if Arthur didn’t choose soon, she was going to shove it down his throat. Merlin thought he would probably help her.

“I’m not sure Sophia’s really a blue person,” he said, sighing again and continuing to gaze down at the rows of rings gleaming up at him.

“Just choose a ring already,” Merlin muttered under his breath, apparently not quietly enough, because Arthur turned to him suddenly.

“Excuse me?” the young man demanded in his most imperious tone. “This is the most important decision of my life and you just want me to rush into it?”

“If you’re that unsure about what she wants, perhaps you should bring Sophia in to choose it with you,” Merlin said, wincing internally at the acid sarcasm that sank into his voice as he said the accursed name. The sales woman caught onto the idea immediately.

“Yes, sir, perhaps it would be best if you were to bring the young lady to select-” but Arthur ignored her and cut through her words to talk to Merlin.

“What does that mean?” he asked, and Merlin decided that the best technique was to play innocent. Arthur liked to tell him that he was an incompetent moron, maybe if he just played the role then the whole thing would just pass by.

“What does what mean?” he asked dumbly.

“The way you said that… Sophia’s name. What did you mean by that?”

“I just said her name, Arthur. I didn’t mean anything by it.” Merlin said, desperately back-pedalling and praying to whichever deity had got him into the situation, that they would get him out of it.

“Yes you did. I know you, Merlin. You’re an awful liar,” the jewellery shop seemed a long way away now, even though they were still standing in it. His eyes were glued to Arthur and everything else seemed black and white compared to the vivid fury of his gaze. “You don’t like her, do you?”

“I… Arthur, I just don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Merlin said, switching from ignorance to pleading honesty. Neither tactic worked.

“I know exactly what I’m getting myself into, Merlin, so show me some respect.”

“Look, I know it doesn’t matter what I think of her, but…” Arthur cut him off before he could continue.

“You’re right, it doesn’t matter,” the star snapped.

“I just think, as your friend, I needed to ask you if you were sure,” Merlin commented.

“Well, you’d better think again,” Arthur said, leaning in close, his voice low and hoarse and his eyes practically spitting flames. Merlin tried not to be cowed, but he had never seen Arthur so angry and he wasn’t sure whether he was about to be beaten to a bloody pulp or fired. “You’re not my friend, Merlin, you’re my employee. So start acting like it.” He turned around abruptly and back to the counter. The shop worker, not needing to preserve face as Merlin did, flinched away as Arthur’s glare caught her.

“Okay then…” Merlin said, his voice quiet, but it echoed around the shop in the dead silence that was flooding it. “Now we have that all sorted out. It’s not in my job description, sir, to help you make the biggest mistake of your life, so I’ll be leaving then.”

Arthur did not reply, but Merlin saw his hands tighten on the glass counter until his knuckles were a brilliant white.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, before fishing a form out of his bag and leaning over to place it on the counter top in Arthur’s eye line, “and don’t forget to make anyone who helps you sign one of these, we don’t want the paparazzi getting their hands on this.”

With that he made a dignified exit, forcing himself not to look back at Arthur, bent over the counter glaring venomously at the rings. Outside the doors, Arthur’s driver looked up as he walked out and headed for the back door of the car, but Merlin waved him away.

“I’ll be making my own way back,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets and wishing he had calculated being kidnapped and forced to walk around London in the freezing cold in his choice of coat that morning.

The studio and hotel were on the outskirts of London, a long journey by tube and bus from where Merlin had started, and even longer by taxi given the gridlock that covered the city centre. Arthur had kept them ring shopping for longer than Merlin had imagined and it had been dark for hours by the time he left Arthur. A phone call to a manager or two would make a shop stay open an hour or three past closing for the famous Arthur Pendragon, after all, and Merlin had been trying to be helpful. He should have just said it all up front at the beginning.

The tube was packed when he made it on, business men who had been working late and people coming back and heading into town. It was the time of day when the city switched from a place of work to a place of leisure and there was traffic going both ways. He had to change three times to get onto the right line and then, when he finally got to the place he needed to get the bus, he had just missed the last one for an hour and the next was half an hour late. It was too late for the regular fifteen minute gaps, so he ended up shivering at a bus stop for an hour and a quarter reading and rereading the posters and the graffiti that covered it.

“Stupid sodding Arthur,” he muttered to himself, feeling a lot like an insane tramp as a group of young women passed him by with a wide berth, shooting him apprehensive looks. “Stupid bloody Sophia. I hope she’s like a black widow spider and eats him.”

He didn’t, but it was not that big a stretch of the imagination.

When he finally rolled into his room, he couldn’t go to sleep. His head was still buzzing with Arthur and Sophia and engagement rings. Arthur had got back before him, he could tell from the do not disturb sign hung on his employer’s door, and the fact that Arthur had added ‘and that means you, Merlin’ on to the bottom of it.

He sat and stared at the wall for God only knew how long, trying to piece together where he had gone wrong in life. Clearly he should have just stayed in the village and got that job sweeping the floor of the bakery. He would have seen his Mum more often and he would have been able to relegate Arthur into the realm of ‘hot guys I will never meet’ and fantasised about him on Saturday mornings when he had a lie in.

He glared at the wall that stood between his and Arthur’s rooms. Sometimes he fucking hated the self absorbed prat.

He found himself reaching for his phone without even thinking about it, and he scrolled down the phonebook until he found the name he was looking for, the only name he really wanted to talk to at that moment. Well, the only name he wanted to talk to who would pick up. He hit call and listened to the soothing brr brr as he waited for someone to pick up.

“Shit Merlin,” Will said blearily on the other end of the line. “It’s two o’clock in the fucking morning. ” Merlin glanced at his watch. Will was right.

“Sorry, lost track of time, Arthur had me up all night,” he said leaning back and closing his eyes, letting the relaxing sense of familiarity roll over him.

“Did he really?” Will asked, apparently not too tired to pick up on unintended innuendo. Merlin almost smirked.

“Not like that, we were running through his itinerary for next week and it all went on for hours… I can call back tomorrow.” He did not want to call back tomorrow. He just wanted to sit and listen to Will ramble, and then crawl into bed and sleep heavily enough that he could forget everything that had just happened.

“Don’t you dare hang up! ” Will said quickly, suddenly alert. “You know bloody well that if you hang up now you’re not going to have a chance to call me again for a week. ” Merlin smiled sheepishly into the receiver; that much was true. “So, how are the lifestyles of the rich and the famous?”

“Not that fabulous,” he replied with a yawn, and Will laughed.

“I could have told you that. How’s his royal highness, Prince of Pratdom? ” Merlin paused for a second. He knew what Will would say if he told him what had happened. He would tell him to quit and get a better job and Merlin should. He should get out of there before Arthur destroyed his life, but he couldn’t.

“Less pratlike,” he lied.

“Still in love with him then? ” Will asked, coming to the heart of the matter more quickly than Merlin could ever bring himself to.

“Will…” Merlin was too tired to have that conversation, was it too much to ask for meaningless banter?

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes, Will. I am completely and totally head over heels for the bastard. I sigh over him and watch him while he sleeps and follow his ever step like a good little puppy dog’. ” All of which was truer than Merlin cared to admit, but it served the purpose of banter, even if it was on a subject which he had rather not think about.

“Shut up.”

“Stockholm syndrome, that’s what it is. You’ve grown addicted to his mistreatment of you, you think it’s normal. It’s tragic. ”

“You’re tragic.” Merlin shot back, a weak retort, true, but the best his addled brain could think of on the spur of the moment.

“And you’re a ginormous poof, ” Will said, making Merlin let out a burst of slightly hysterical laughter.

“What does that make you?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, I’m a ginormous poof as well, but I’m one of the cool ones… you’re, like, Graham Norton or something…” Merlin screwed up his face. He was nothing like Graham Norton. Hell, Arthur didn’t even know he was gay.

“Then you’d totally be John Barrowman.”

“I’d totally do John Barrowman,” Will replied and Merlin could picture the leer on his face as he spoke and stuck his tongue out in response, even though he knew Will couldn’t see him.

“Really?” Merlin asked incredulously. “I mean, I know he’s attractive, but -“

“But? But? You’re saying but to John Barrowman? But then I suppose you do get to ogle Arthur bloody Pendragon every day. Not that I understand what you see in the guy. He’s an obnoxious twerp. ”

“So are you.”

“But I’m charming…”

“He’s rich,” Merlin added with a chuckle, not that the money made any difference whatsoever, but it was good to tease Will every now and then.

“I could be rich…” Merlin laughed at the indignation in Will’s voice. “Well, I could be! ”

“He’s Arthur,” Merlin responded eventually, holding back a small sigh because Will would call him a girl in a heartbeat if he heard him do something as stupid as sighing down the phone at him.

“I live in hope of the day you come to your senses, ” Will retaliated. There was a long pause and Merlin knew that Will wanted to say something more, but there was nothing but silence. “So, other than His Berkliness, what’s going on? ”

“There’s a party on Saturday,” Merlin offered.

“A Valentine’s day party? Cool… is the guest list a who’s who of the richest people in the country?”

“More like a who’s who of the richest people in the world. Uther’s organising it and you know he likes to go all out on these things.”

“I’ll be in London on the Sunday, ” Will said suddenly. “We could meet up if you want. ” Merlin hesitated before answering. “Don’t tell me Arthur’s going to need you all weekend. He’ll probably be shagging some girl all Sunday… least you can do is have some fun as well.” Will was right. No doubt Arthur was planning for a romantic Valentine’s day proposal followed by a day of Sophia. He wouldn’t even be vaguely missed.

“No... that sounds like a good plan. It’ll be great, ” he struggled to sound enthusiastic. He did want to see Will, really, it was just… confusing sometimes.

“Damn right it will. We’ll show those rich gits how to party. ”

“Sounds like fun,” Merlin said again. “My place?”

“Around seven?”

“Cool.”

“I’ll see you then, ” Will said and Merlin could hear him yawning down the phone. “Now get some sleep… and Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“Pendragon’s a prick. Ignore him, ” Will muttered before hanging up, leaving Merlin to wonder when he had become so easy to read.

***

Merlin knew what to expect from showbiz parties by now. He knew that it took approximately one hour fifty minutes for the biggest stars to arrive, because they always wanted to make an entrance, but two hours was too late to be polite. He knew that the glitz and glamour wore off after twenty minutes, all the serving staff would have the exact same smile pasted on their face and there would always be one stupid enough to fall for Arthur’s lines. He also knew that they had cushions in their high heels and there was a special row of seats in the kitchen that they took turns in sitting on. He knew that Uther would make a toast and he knew that Arthur would second it, he knew that Lady Cecilia Morton would, unerringly, seek him out and grope at his arse when she had had more than two glasses of champagne, and Morgana would toy with every man in the room until the right man looked her way and then she would zero in with a targeting skill that the army would be proud of.

He knew these parties, and he knew that this one was going to have the highlight of a romantic moonlit proposal on the terrace, he had even timetabled it into Arthur’s night.

His mother laughed when he told her things like that. He had never used to be able to get to his lessons on time, let alone schedule someone’s entire life. Now he found himself making schedules in his head when he wasn’t thinking about it. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be making highlighted wall charts in his sleep.

Gaius was walking towards him, his best fake smile plastered to his face as he wended his way between guests, flattering Mrs So-and-so on her new hair and Mr What’s-his-face on his most recent television role.

“Merlin,” he said, and for once his tone was unforced. Merlin couldn’t bring himself to smile back, though. If that face had been who he thought it was then he was not looking forward to the evening. “What is it?”

“Nothing… just tired,” he answered.

Gaius patted him on the shoulder in a fatherly manner. “Don’t let that stop you from having fun, we all know you haven’t seen too much of that recently.”

“I’m fine,” Merlin said automatically.

“Of course you are,” Gaius agreed readily, but he was giving Merlin a sidelong glance which made him squirm uncomfortably. “Just don’t drink too much. We don’t want you to embarrass yourself, and you’ve never held your alcohol that well.”

“I’m not that bad,” Merlin protested, his eyes seeking out Arthur across the room. It had been one of the most jaw-dropping moments of his life when Merlin had first seen his boss in formal wear. He had thought the man looked good in jeans and a t-shirt, he had thought that the costume department was good at finding flattering things for him to wear, but when Merlin had come to his first formal party, fidgeting and squirming in his own suit, and seen Arthur waiting for him, pulling at his cufflinks idly, his throat had gone dry and he had lost the ability to think for about ten minutes until Arthur had come over and cuffed him round the back of the head.

Even now, after the many times he had been treated to the same sight, he was not immune. It was completely unfair for one person to be so attractive, it had to be, and he knew for a fact that he had not had any cosmetic surgery, no matter what the tabloids might imply.

“You’ll catch flies,” Gaius said, with the sort of smirk that only the older man could give. Merlin blushed furiously and dragged his eyes off Arthur and the way the dark lines of the dinner jacket brought out the fairness of his hair and the blue of his eyes.

Of course, the image was slightly spoiled by Sophia hanging off his arm, her hair done up in some horrifically elaborate tangle of braids and curled tresses. He wondered if Arthur had told her what he had said. He didn’t have to wonder for long, he caught sight of a movement out of the corner of his eye and turned back to them to find her glaring at him with a smug grin before leaning over to pull Arthur into a kiss that should have been illegal in public, one of her hands slipping to the nape of Arthur’s neck, her little finger dipping beneath the white line of his collar while the other slipped into his jacket. As she pulled back she caught Merlin’s eye before smiling at Arthur, and he knew that she was making her point.

He sighed and took a glass of champagne from one of the waitresses as she passed by. He had never been sure whether he liked the taste of the stuff, but taste was the least of his worries at that moment.

“Remember what I said about the alcohol,” Gaius said disapprovingly as he downed half of the glass in one gulp. Merlin nodded distractedly before spotting Gwen standing in a corner looking uncomfortable.

“Right, yes,” he said, “I’m going to go talk to Gwen, see you later.”

Gwen was not the sort of person who enjoyed these events. She usually tried to stay in the background when there was nothing for her to do and smile politely at the people who passed her by. It was made worse by the fact that she had been intending to spend the evening with her fiancé, only to have various commitments come up at the last second. She looked like she needed a drink. Merlin grabbed another flute of champagne before heading her way, handing it to her as he took his customary place at her side, leaning against the wall.

“It’s a good party,” she said, sipping at the drink.

“If you like this kind of thing,” he agreed.

“You don’t?” she asked, a little incredulous, “I do.” Perhaps he had been wrong about that. “It’s just the glamour of it all, beautiful people in beautiful dresses… I always used to dream of things like this when I was little.”

“I used to dream about fighting dragons,” Merlin told her with a shrug, “not much call for beauty there.” She laughed and raised a glass in a toast.

“To living vicariously,” she said with a smirk. He raised his own glass and clinked it lightly against hers before downing the rest of his drink, draining the glass in a manner that was most definitely impolite, if the glare that Arthur was giving him across the room and the slightly scandalised look Gwen had turned on him were anything to go by.

“What? I can’t be thirsty?”

“You don’t like champagne,” she pointed out, which Merlin thought was a bit presumptuous when he was not even sure whether he liked it or not, and it was really starting to grow on him anyway. He shrugged.

“So...” he said, snitching a second glass as another waitress made her rounds and staring out across the room. “Who’s Morgana after tonight?” Gwen shrugged.

“She wouldn’t say… which means it’s going to be something spectacular,” Gwen smiled slightly, “she does like to make a scene.”

“She is an actress,” Merlin said, generously, although sometimes the words prima donna would be a more accurate description.

“She won’t do anything though,” Gwen commented, suddenly. “She and Lancelot are still together. She even managed to get him a part in Excalibur.” Merlin smiled slightly. Whether she had a boyfriend or not, Morgana would still play every man in the room like a fiddle.

True enough, five seconds later and Morgana made her appearance, pausing two steps into the hall under the pretence of looking around, but really giving everyone a chance to take her presence in. She was stunning, even Merlin had to admit, and next to her Sophia, in her gold and green, looked insipid. Morgana was all rich purples, with her hair falling simply down her back, not quite reaching the plunging back of her dress. As she paused, the conversation in the hall lowered for a second before beginning again a little frenzied.

“To making an entrance,” Merlin said, raising his glass again. Gwen chuckled under her breath and toasted and they both grinned as they took another drink, Merlin managing to polish of his second glass in only three gulps. Really, champagne was definitely growing on him.

He didn’t have much more to drink that night, but Gaius had been right when he had commented on Merlin’s poor alcohol tolerance, and champagne apparently went straight to his head, because it was not very long before he began to feel the pleasant buzz of alcohol rising in his mind.

Eventually, the downing of glasses of expensive champagne caught up to him and he was forced to head for the staircase and the bathroom.

He tried to take the stairs two at a time, but stumbled and ended up having to go more slowly. He tried to force his sluggish brain to think. Gaius had been right, he should have restrained himself, but Sophia had been all over Arthur and he had been laughing and smiling and… that was not the point.

He heard a low, off-key voice beginning to sing ‘swing low, sweet chariot’ and grimaced. Apparently Gaius wasn’t keeping his own advice.

He sank down onto the top step and reached up to undo his bow tie, only to realise he had lost it over an hour ago. He sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

“I am so screwed,” he said to himself. The faces from a painting looked down in judgement and he scowled back. What did they think they were looking at anyway? At least his eyes were on different sides of his face.

He sighed and he opened the first door he came to - not a bathroom. It was a linen cupboard. He stared suspiciously at a pile of fresh towels for a moment, before deciding to move on.

Merlin had found, five bedrooms, two more cupboards and a room that seemed to be mainly used for housing cobwebs, and found nothing, when he heard the click-clack of women’s shoes heading up the stairs.

He would never really be able to say why he hid. If asked later, he would say that he knew that it was Sophia before she opened her mouth, or maybe that he was scared that Marjorie was coming to complain at him. To be honest, it was just one of those things you did when you had had too much champagne and had accidentally stumbled into most of the host’s guest bedrooms. He always felt a little like he was trespassing in houses like that, even when he had been invited, and the fact that he was in a part of the house not technically in use, just made him feel more awkward. So, when he heard the footsteps he jumped for the closest hiding place, which happened to be a shower.

He was lucky it had frosted glass really.

His heart was in his throat, beating manically, as the footsteps came closer and closer. He wanted them to turn back. Why would anyone be up there anyway? There was no reason, the rooms were not in use. The door to the bathroom opened and Merlin remembered why someone would come up - the same reason he had come up in the first place, before he had been distracted by trying to find the place.

He heard the lock on the door slide shut and it was all he could do not to groan in annoyance.

Through the frosted glass he could just make out a darker patch which must be the woman, and he leant as far back into the corner of the shower as he could. Luckily the shower was tiled with dark blue, so the black of his suit wouldn’t have been as noticeable from the outside.

The woman did not head for the toilet, however, which he was quite grateful about, because that would have been supremely awkward. She went over to the sink and stood there for a good thirty seconds.

Merlin had never understood why women (and Arthur) needed to spend so long in front of a mirror. He just checked that his hair wasn’t sticking up and that he didn’t have toothpaste on his cheek before walking out the door. Oh, he understood make-up might take a little while, but surely if you came to a party, then you already had make-up on, and no one would notice if it rubbed off a bit when they were as drunk as the people downstairs.

He was supposed to understand that though, wasn’t he? Gay men were supposed to get things like that. He remembered Morgana commenting with disappointment on his lack of understanding of women several times, but he just couldn’t work it out. That was sort of why he was gay, perhaps. But his drunken musing about his sexuality was broken into by a very familiar voice.

“Look, I’ve got him exactly where I want him, two days and I’ll have the story,” Sophia said, and Merlin realised that she had not been adjusting her make-up, she had been dialling a number into her phone. Either that or she was talking to her own reflection, which would have been weird. “I know, I know… but this is going to be brilliant. I’ll get the promotion for sure. Entertainment editor here I come.”

Merlin stood in stunned silence, barely able to breathe. This was not good. If there were ever a record for the quickest sobering up, then Merlin was fairly certain he would have won it then.

“Arthur’s completely in love with me. I can get him to tell me anything. I think he might even propose,” Sophia continued, unaware of his presence. “I am good, aren’t I?” She laughed a little, and Merlin had to restrain himself from tearing out of the shower cubicle and strangling her right there and then. “I’ll have your exclusive, believe me. It’s going to be brilliant. Look, I’ve got to go now, or he’ll start looking for me. I told him I had to fix my hair.” She laughed again, and Merlin ground his teeth. Arthur was in love with her, and Arthur might not be the nicest, or the most intelligent person in the world, or the most observant, but he did not deserve this. “You’re too kind. See you Wednesday.” The phone call ended and she went back to, or maybe started, looking in the mirror, humming to herself while Merlin stood, his head and his stomach churning, waiting for her to leave.

He could confront her there and then. He could force her to reveal her hand, but then she would have the advantage, the ball would be in her court and if he gave her time to prepare, Arthur was never going to believe him.

Arthur, who was planning to propose - tonight. Merlin’s eyes widened in horror. He could not let that happen. He had to stop it. He fumbled to open the shower door, missing the handle three times in his anxiety.

Before he left the room, he threw up, anger mixing with alcohol to make him feel dangerously ill.

He ran through the door and down the stairs, only taking long enough to ensure he did not trip and kill himself. He felt a little ashamed as he headed back towards the party because, in amidst the terror and the anger there was a small part of him which was smug. He had known there was something off about Sophia, he had known that she was bad for Arthur and he had been right. Arthur would never disbelieve him again.

He paused at the door for a second, as the voice in his head that sounded like Will brought him back to reality. What was he really expecting to happen out there? The scales to fall from Arthur’s eyes and for him to re-evaluate himself and his sexuality, realise that Merlin had always been the one for him and proceed to declare his undying love? Was he expecting Arthur to be so pleased to be told that the woman he loved was an evil manipulative bitch that he offered Merlin a bonus and a promotion?

All that was going to happen was that Merlin would tell him, Arthur would get angry, and the world would continue as it had before. Arthur might believe him, but he probably wouldn’t. Sophia would publish her article and the press would have a feeding frenzy, Arthur would be heartbroken, but in time Sophia would fade away and it would just be the pair of them again: Arthur blundering into ridiculous messes and Merlin finding a way to clear them up. Arthur giving orders, Merlin following. That was all it would ever be.

He sighed, one hand on the door handle, and smiled ruefully to himself. He had never thought of himself as a maudlin drunk, but there he was.

None of that mattered though, because none of it would change what he had to do. He was going to go out there and tell Arthur, because that was what he did.

He opened the door and pushed his way into the room. Most of the guests were hammered, Uther was chatting up some waitress less than half his age, and Gwen was listening to Gaius tell some long, boring story by the hors d’oeuvres. He scoured the room, the glint and sparkle of dresses and glasses distracting his eyes, making it more difficult to find what he was looking for.

Frantically, he pushed his way between people, looking around desperately for Arthur and…

He caught sight of them just as they were disappearing from the hall through the glass doors into the gardens, which were lit up with strings of fairy lights. His heart sank, this was it: the moonlit romantic garden setting, the ring which Arthur had agonised over and the scheming slut who had engineered everything. He elbowed his way past people that it was really best not to elbow, and headed as swiftly as he could for the door.

Once outside, he peered into the gloom, even with the fairy lights, his vision had to compensate for the sudden change from dark to light and all he could see below the level of the tree branches was pitch black.

“Arthur?” he called as vague figures began to appear.

“Merlin,” Arthur’s voice was hinting at him to go away; the underlying edge of irritation that he had had in all their conversations in the past few days brought to the top. Merlin winced a little at the sound of his voice.

“Arthur,” he said, suddenly stumbling over his words again, “we have to… I have to talk to you.”

“Now?” Arthur asked incredulously. Merlin could see him clearly now and he noted the meaningful nod to Arthur’s side where Sophia was standing, looking vapidly puzzled. She was a good actress, Merlin would give her that; she should be a film star.

“Yes…” he said, trying to carry the import of his words with the tone of his voice and his stare. He even managed to get his eyebrows involved, jerking them as far up his forehead as he could get them. “It’s important.”

“Merlin… I’m sort of in the middle of something here.”

“I know… but I need to talk to you urgently. Now.” Merlin repeated, and finally Arthur gave a huge sigh.

“Fine, what is it?” the star said.

“Alone,” Merlin added, giving Sophia the fakest smile he could work on. Her own placid grin was beginning to look a little forced.

“Merlin, I’m sure you can say anything you need to say in front of Sophia,” Arthur told him, wrapping an arm round the slut’s shoulders.

“No… I really can’t,” he said, walking up to them and reaching out to take Arthur’s elbow, pulling him firmly away. “Please, just a few moments, it’ll only take a few seconds and then you can get back to...” ruining your life, he thought, but he kept his opinions to himself.

“Okay,” Arthur said, leaning in to kiss Sophia and mutter an apology in his ear.

“It’s alright,” she said, “I know you’ve got other things to deal with apart from me.” Merlin almost choked at that. The amount Arthur had been disregarding the rest of his life for Sophia must just be giant joke to her.

He led the actor away, checking over his shoulder to make sure Sophia was not following them.

“This had better be good, Merlin,” Arthur told him, crossing his arms and glaring imperiously at his assistant. “Don’t tell me it’s just some other excuse for you to tell me how wrong Sophia is for me. I get it, you don’t like her, can’t we just leave it at that.”

“No,” Merlin said, “wait… I need to say all of this in the right order.”

“Then say it…” Arthur prompted. They lapsed into silence for a moment as Merlin agonised internally.

“She’s a reporter,” he said in a sudden, fast, splurge, tripping over the words as they came out of his mouth until they ran into each other. “Sophia’s a reporter and she’s not in love with you, she just wants to get a story. I heard her on the phone and she’s stringing you along.”

“I don’t have to listen to this,” Arthur said, shaking his head and turning away, back to Sophia.

“No! Arthur, wait!” Merlin called, grabbing Arthur as he began to walk away. “It’s true, I swear to you. She’s playing you, and you’ve fallen for it and if you propose tonight then you’re going to regret it.”

Suddenly Arthur was right in his face, his eyes so livid Merlin gulped nervously.

“You’re pathetic, you know, Merlin. Just because I have more in my life than your stupid schedules. I love her, and I’m going to marry her, no matter what you say. I’ll forgive you these lies, seeing as you’re obviously drunk, but why don’t you take a couple of days off to think about things and I’ll see you on Tuesday so we can decide whether this is working out any more.”

“Working out?” Merlin asked, his mouth falling open in shock.

“Yes. You’ve been working for me for a long time now; it might be time for a change,” Arthur told him before turning on his heel and walking away to return to Sophia.

Merlin drew in a shaky breath and resisted the urge to curse loudly. He had expected it to go badly, he had expected Arthur not to believe him, but he had not expected to get fired practically.

“Oh, sodding hell,” he murmured to himself. “I hate bloody Valentine’s day.”

***

Next Part

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