Every Story is a Love Story (1/3)
Title: Every Story is a Love Story
Wordcount: ~24,600
Summary: Camelot Publishing publishes romance novels, and when Arthur founds a new imprint of gay romance and invites his best friend and pet writer Merlin to write for it, it's a bit too easy to miss the fact that apparently he's living in one.
A/N: Written for this prompt at the meme (and seriously, do you leave these prompts out as Nell-bait or something?). Title is a song title from Aida: the Musical. The publishing industry has been shamelessly abused for literary purposes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
Camelot Publishing is run out of a large, sleek building, the sort that looks as if it’s meant to house a law firm or the international headquarters for a business. The lobby is carpeted in lush red, with a receptionist’s desk straight out of an antique shop and a smartly-dressed security guard standing by the door. It’s quite often assumed, by anyone who passes by and hasn’t ever looked at a bookshelf in the romance section of a shop, that it must publish great literature, or perhaps that it’s the home of academic journals.
Nearly everyone, however, just snickers a bit, because they’ve all seen the racks of Camelot books on the shelves and they know that no matter how impressive the building is, what comes out of it are titles like The RAF Officer’s Secret Baby and A Passionate Affair. Some of it’s good, of course, most aren’t afraid to admit that, better than those American Harlequins, but in the end, it’s all the same sort of thing, and the building’s a bit of a joke to those in the neighborhood.
It’s Arthur Pendragon’s favorite building in the world.
He was practically brought up there, after all, in the hours he wasn’t at school, by his father behind the chief editor’s desk, by Alice, the receptionist who read him Dostoevsky while she minded him as a child, by Nimueh, the author who dared write about vampires and werewolves long before Buffy and who had a pact of mutual cordial hatred with his father, and by all the rest of the editors and authors who worked there or stopped by. Most of them cooed over him for being without a mother, and he got the sort of education that none of his peers did-he will never forget his father’s expression when his school called when Arthur, aged five, was caught explaining French kissing to his enthralled classmates. He loves what they do, and he’s never once regretted joining the family business, nor taking it over when his father died.
He’s giving that serious reconsideration this morning, however, because he’s walking in half an hour late and he knows that what he plans to do today would have his father rolling in his grave (well, it would if he hadn’t been tastefully cremated). Still, he greets the security guard-Percival, who by virtue of his physique looks as if he should be on one of the covers of their romances-and the receptionist-Elena, typing at her laptop behind the desk, who always grins and waves when he goes by-just as cheerfully as normal and catches the elevator to his floor.
“Morning, Mr. Pendragon. I have messages for you,” says Freya the second he gets out, in a tone that would sound respectful to anyone who didn’t know her as well as Arthur does after two years.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my phone and my alarm didn’t go off,” he offers, since unlike his father he is perfectly willing to acknowledge that his PA runs his life and deserves explanations for these sorts of things. “What have you got for me?”
She gives him a tiny smile, which means that if he grabs her a coffee when he goes out for his noontime sandwich he’ll be forgiven, and picks up the pad of paper she keeps next to her keyboard. “Your sister wants to talk to you, monthly sales report is in and looking good though I imagine you’ll want to look it over yourself, Leon has the covers for five more books ready for approval, Mithian’s been giggling over something in the slush room all morning so you’ll probably want to ask her about that, and Merlin says the edits you asked for on A Remedy for Love are finished and this had better be the last round.”
“His titles are terrible, why must I always fix his titles? They look tawdry.”
Freya sighs. “We publish romance and erotica, Arthur, and Gwaine’s chest is on half of what we sell, including Merlin’s novels. How are you worried about tawdry?”
“Fine, they’re just awful, I thought ‘tawdry’ might be a bit kinder.” He goes into his office and puts his briefcase down. Freya trails after him, still holding her pad and looking vaguely disapproving. “I’ll deal with Mithian later. As long as she’s giggling it’s fine, unless she’s snapped from all the horror that goes through that room, and the sales reports can wait until afternoon. What did Morgana want?”
“She says, and I quote, that she wishes you luck today and that if you aren’t calling Merlin in on the project it’s a waste and she’s going to tempt him into writing about faeries so she can steal him from you. I can only assume this has to do with all the market research you’ve been pretending not to do over the last few months.”
Freya’s probably the person who knows the most about what’s going on in the office, but she’s wonderfully discreet when she needs to be, so he won’t bother being disconcerted that she’s figured it out. She’ll let him tell Merlin, at least, which is the important part. “Her concern is appreciated and unnecessary, you may tell her so when she continues to badger us with calls. I have some things to finalize on the project before I reveal it, and I don’t want her bothering me.”
She eyes him for a few moments before finally letting a proper smile free. “If it is what I think it is, it’s going to mean a lot to many of our readers, and many people in this office as well.”
“Myself included,” he assures her, though of course she knows. “That’s part of the reason I’m doing it, on top of the massive profit we stand to make. Now, go guard me from Morgana for a few hours while I write a release, tell Merlin the title on his latest needs to be changed, and look over these sales figures so they don’t get buried in the rush.”
“Yes, Mr. Pendragon. And I’ll let Mithian know to disturb you only if it’s important.”
“Good. Now shoo.”
Freya rolls her eyes, but she goes back to her desk nonetheless and leaves him in peace to start his computer and open up a message to Merlin.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: “Remedy” edits and a question
Freya tells me you’ve got the edits for “Remedy” finished, so you can send that to me whenever. It might take me a little while longer than usual to finish up for approval, but this is what you get for sticking with me when I had to foist most of my authors off to run the company. We need to talk about the title, by the way. I’m thinking A Remedy to Cure All Ills, maybe.
As for the question: I’m planning on launching a new imprint, and I want you writing for it. Market research has been showing that readers are looking for gay romance, especially historical, and since I know you’ve got some of that hidden in your files somewhere, I was hoping you’d be willing to be one of the debut authors. You could stay with the Ygraine imprint as well, or move over to the new one entirely, but either way unless you object I’ll continue editing your work. The announcement of the new line is going out later today and I’d love to be able to attach your name to it.
I would say “no pressure” but we both know that’s not true. Even Morgana wants you to do it!
Please let me know at your earliest convenience.
*
The slush pile at Camelot Publishing has its own legend, and it’s the legend of Camelot Publishing itself.
The story of how his parents met is the first story Arthur remembers hearing as a child, actually, aside from carefully-censored snippets from Nimueh’s books while she was babysitting him. It goes like this: once, a lowly intern named Uther Pendragon was assigned the job of going through the slush pile at the publishing house where he was working, and somewhere in the pile he ran across a romance novel, one so gorgeously written he knew it had to be published and that, more importantly, he had to edit it. He bypassed all known procedure, called the author, met Ygraine Dubois, emptied his trust fund on printing and advertising, and married her three days after her first romance hit bookstores and started flying off the shelves.
After that, after Camelot Publishing got offices and more offers and got bigger and bigger, every new editor that was hired on had to spend a while with the sole duty of going through the slush room, until they found a book they had to be involved with, at which point they were moved into general editing and given that author to edit. It’s one of his father’s traditions that Arthur is more than happy to uphold. Some spend a week in there-Morgana, always lucky, discovered Morgause on day six in the slush room and promptly went off to found the Avalon imprint and give paranormal romance its own instead of shoving it in with everything else. Some spend a month, or two. Most manage it within six months.
Arthur took a year. It wasn’t that he didn’t run across any books worth publishing-he sent a few off to Morgana, some to Gaius running the historical imprint, a few to the general collection, but he’d been brought up on the story of his father reading his mother’s work and knowing, instantly, that they had to work together. He didn’t expect to meet the love of his life that way, but he was waiting for a certain spark. By the year mark, even his father was suggesting that Arthur take on a few of the authors he’d sent on to other people, but then Arthur discovered Merlin. He almost tossed the manuscript aside without reading it-written by a man, titled A Moment of Truth of all the idiot things-but he read the first few pages to be fair, and an hour later he put down the first half of the manuscript and knew that he’d found his ticket out of the slush room, and a new author for the Ygraine imprint as well, the crème de la crème of Camelot Publishing’s selection.
Years later, Merlin is still his in a way that his other authors aren’t, not that he has many now that he’s busy with the administrative details of running Camelot Publishing, and his best mate as well. They argue and snipe, just like they did from the first e-mail, but they also go out for drinks and Merlin got him to hire Freya when he found out Arthur was looking for a PA. He knows that A Moment of Truth (the one book Arthur never convinced him to change the title of) is the highly-fictionalized version of his parents’ love story and that he never expected to be published but took to it like a duck to water. And Merlin listens to him complain about not getting to work with authors as much as he’d like these days and drags him out of the office when he’s been pushing too hard. As far as Arthur’s concerned, there really isn’t much they don’t tell each other, these days, though they don’t talk much about their love lives considering it always leads back to talking about work.
He hasn’t mentioned the soon-to-be-launched Tintagel Imprint to Merlin, though, even though he’s known all along that he wants Merlin writing for it. At first, it was because he didn’t know if it would happen at all and didn’t want Merlin’s disappointment if it didn’t happen. After, it became more of a surprise-Merlin’s admitted, before, that he writes gay romance when he isn’t writing for Arthur, and that he’s published a few short pieces on the internet to supplement his income, and Arthur can’t imagine he’d turn down a chance to publish some of his longer work.
He’s expecting enthusiasm, though, which is why it’s a bit of a surprise when Merlin’s return e-mail takes quite a while to arrive. Merlin is an early riser and tends to sit at his laptop until dragged away (which is why he still lives with Gwen even though both of them could afford to be on their own at this point), but it’s nearly lunch by the time he gets a message, when he’s already finished going through sales reports and finances and okaying what seem like a hundred things.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: “Remedy” edits and a question
Need to get the draft into a format you won’t object to, so you should get it by tonight at the latest, and fine, you tyrant, my titles really aren’t as bad as you make them out to be, you actually published a book called The Frenchman’s Tempestuous Mistress last month so you really haven’t got a leg to stand on.
About your question: I’m honored, I guess, and I won’t ask if you’re sure about doing the imprint because you’re you and you probably researched every possible statistic before agreeing to it. I’ve got some stuff, yeah, but I don’t know if it’s very good, you probably don’t want it, I could probably recommend some other writers to you, though?
And whatever happens, of course you’re still editing my work, don’t be stupid. I’ve only just got you trained.
Arthur rolls his eyes and tries not to sound as relieved as he feels when he sends an e-mail back telling Merlin not to be an idiot, of course Arthur wants his work, pick out the best rough draft and send it his way, and that if Merlin ever abandons him for another editor Arthur will have to commit homicide, though he’s unsure if it will be of Merlin or the new editor. Merlin is his Ygraine, after all, even if they aren’t in love.
Once he’s had a more reassuring e-mail from Merlin saying that yes, fine, he’ll dig something up but it’s Arthur’s own fault if he hates it, Arthur sends out the e-mail that he’s drafted to send to the company.
From: Arthur
To: Camelot Publishing Mailing List
Subject: Announcing a new imprint!
Camelot Publishing will be debuting a new imprint in a few months. The Tintagel Imprint will be focused on gay romance, primarily historical but with some others, and our very own Merlin Emerson will be one of the debut authors for the line. If anyone knows any good writers or agents marketing quality romances, or if any editors wish to try this imprint, please get in contact with me.
It takes Freya all of two minutes to buzz him. “Your sister wants to talk to you. Do you want to let her gloat now or later?”
“Later, there will be alcohol later and I can drag Merlin with us to deflect. In fact, I’m off to see Mithian in the slush room, maybe go over a few manuscripts myself for old times’ sake. Tell Morgana I’m far too busy to chat.”
“Coward,” Freya comments when he passes by her desk a few seconds later, but she’s smiling at her computer screen, typing out an e-mail, most likely to someone asking if Arthur is serious. His father was famous for being adamant about not publishing gay romance, after all, and people are still used to Arthur being his father’s son.
Mithian, when he gets to the slush room, is sitting with her hand over her mouth and her eyes crinkled up in a smile while she looks at the manuscript in front of her. “What have you got there?” he asks.
“You’ve had a busy day,” she observes, switching to e-mail on her screen. “And I think I might have my ticket out of the slush room.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about a Greek business tycoon whose childhood sweetheart was kidnapped into a harem and who he saves and then makes into his virgin mistress,” says Mithian, in all seriousness. Arthur blinks at her. “No, you don’t understand. Whoever she is-and it’s terribly obvious that it’s a pen name, nobody is actually named Elaine Fay-it’s quite obvious that she wrote this as some sort of dare or just to make fun of it all so it comes out rather screamingly funny.”
Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Our consumers don’t appreciate being made fun of, and to be frank I’m more than a bit dubious.”
“Really, Arthur, it’s like you don’t trust me. I’m going to finish this, and then you’re going to read it, and you will eat your words. The plot may be a ridiculous satire, but the writing is funny and the sex is frankly better than nearly anything we’ve got except Merlin, so we’d better do it, especially if we’re losing Merlin to your new imprint.”
“I don’t know if he’ll stay in it, he seems oddly reluctant.” Arthur shrugs. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at that once you’ve finished, if you’re so certain.”
Mithian snorts. “Of course. Reluctant. Now, go away, you’re the boss and you aren’t allowed to hide in here after you make big announcements. Exactly how long do you think it will take for someone to let the publishing blogs know what we’re doing? You’ll have interviews to do.”
“I should have let Morgana take the company over,” he grumbles, but he lets her get back to work and goes back to his own desk, ignoring the way Freya shakes her head and smiles as he passes.
*
The Rising Sun, around the corner from Camelot Publishing, does a brisk trade in horribly pink cocktails. Back in the early days, when Camelot was just beginning to set up shop in its current location, it was a little down-scale bar, more beer sold than anything else and most of their furniture broken and repaired a hundred times, the kind of place that had been there for ages and let the city grow up around it. It’s the only place in the neighborhood besides a little coffee shop and bakery that provides food and drink, though, so it didn’t take long for it to become the unofficial bar for the staff and authors of Camelot Publishing. The owners, smarter than they previously let on, figured out where the new clientele was from and trained their bartenders to make lethal cocktails, which got them the money to replace their furniture and make their name as a trendy bar.
It’s where everyone from Camelot tends to go in the evenings, editors and authors and graphic designers and sometimes former employees, to talk about work and anything but. This particular Monday, by the time Arthur walks in the place is full nearly to bursting, and they don’t even do him the favor of pretending that they’re there for any reason besides getting the gossip about Tintagel, since they all go silent the second he walks in.
“What a remarkably coincidental gathering,” he remarks as dryly as he can, and goes to the corner table that Merlin and Morgana seem to have staked out.
“You can’t blame them for being curious,” says Morgana as he sits down, and shoves a cocktail in his direction. “You did cause a sensation, you know.”
“I figured it out. Evening, Merlin, I got your file but I haven’t had time to go through it yet, for obvious reasons, but if you fixed everything I mentioned it’ll only take a skim before we send it off to be copy-edited.”
Merlin is watching him with a brow-furrowed suspicious expression that Arthur hasn’t seen since he tried to throw a surprise party for him when his first book made the bestseller lists. “You were sort of busy. You couldn’t have warned a few people? I think Lancelot was crying earlier, and none of the rest of the marketing department looks happy either.”
Arthur disregards that, since Lancelot may be the sensitive sort but he looks perfectly pleased to be flirting outrageously with Merlin’s roommate over by the bar. “I didn’t announce that I want the line to debut next week, for God’s sake. And they do their own market research, they ought to have been prepared for the possibility, especially when I told them to hire on someone new last month. That historically implies expansion.”
Morgana raises on perfectly-groomed eyebrow, but Merlin just gapes at him. “Last month? You’ve been planning this that long and didn’t warn me?”
“Oh, no, I just decided last night that gee, I’ve not read enough gay porn lately and thought I would finance it through my company.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “Of course I’ve been planning it that long, Merlin, you idiot. Longer, even. You of all people know I’m not rash with my business decisions.”
Merlin, apparently deciding that he isn’t going to get anything useful out of Arthur, turns to Morgana. “Did you know about this?”
“Oh, poppet.” She takes a long pull off her pint, because she has powers the rest of them know not of and can get proper drinks out of Mary behind the bar. “Of course I did. Not that Arthur told me, but he’s remarkably transparent sometimes.”
“Am not,” Arthur mutters, though it’s mostly for form’s sake.
Merlin makes a despairing noise into his drink, which is a distressing shade of magenta. “Seriously, warning would have been nice.”
“Hey.” Arthur reaches across the table to prod him gently in the arm and waits until Merlin is looking at him to continue. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but we’ve talked about it, how much you always wished there’d been romance you could see yourself in, and I thought it would be a good surprise. The line isn’t debuting until you’re ready, so don’t feel as if you have to hurry.”
Merlin swallows and drops his gaze. “Wow, great,” he mutters. “That’s not intimidating at all, a whole imprint waiting on me.”
Morgana raps Merin’s knuckles with a pen and both of them jump. “The pair of you are ridiculous. Say thank you nicely to Arthur for risking his company on you.”
“Thank you,” says Merlin, ears gone red, under Arthur’s objection that he’s doing no such thing, which gets interrupted by his own rap on the knuckles, a good deal harder than the one Merlin got.
“And you,” she says with a terrifying smile, “thank Merlin for agreeing to debut this line for you even though he had no warning whatsoever.”
“Do you ever feel like she’s the schoolmarm and we’ve been called in to her office to be reprimanded? I have the sudden terror that I’m going to be caned.” Arthur asks, and gets a quick flash of Merlin’s grin before Morgana kicks him under the table. “Ouch, fine, thank you, Merlin, for so graciously agreeing to do this for me.”
“That’s better.” She grabs her glass and stands up. “Now, you boys behave, Gwaine is sexually harassing someone again and Mary says she’s going to make us clean up the next time someone dumps a drink on him.”
Merlin waits until she’s buried in the noisy hum of the chatter of the bar before he speaks again, finally grinning at Arthur. “Have I mentioned lately that your sister is terrifying?”
“Not this week.” He takes a drink of his cocktail. A bit sweet for his taste, but other than when he was at university this is the bar he’s been to for most of his life, so he’s inured to the ridiculous cocktails by this point. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I figured you would want to-I am actually aware that most of what you write for us is simply to pay the bills, and I thought this might be a way for you to get a message out.”
After a second, Merlin laughs a bit and shakes his head. “My God, you’re ridiculous. We’re ridiculous, trying to change the world with romance novels, but I’ll give it a shot, as long as you promise not to blame me when people start protesting on the streets.”
“Honestly, Merlin, it’s not as if we’re in America.” He holds up his glass to toast. “To the Tintagel Imprint, then, and our continued successful partnership.”
Merlin clinks their drinks together, of course managing to spill a bit of his down his hand. “To Tintagel and us, then, you great idiot.”
Arthur almost chokes on his drink when someone claps a hand on his shoulder before he’s swallowed. Of course, when he turns around, it’s Gwaine. “Come on, princess, you and Merlin can’t monopolize each other all night, you’re the stars of the show and we’ve got porn to celebrate!”
“You’re incredibly inappropriate,” Arthur grouses, but he lets Gwaine pull them up and out into the crowd to talk about the new imprint and what he plans to do with it and what Merlin plans to write for it.
He doesn’t get Merlin alone again that night, but they’ll have plenty of time to hash out the details later.
*
Three days after Arthur sends A Remedy to Cure All Ills off to be copy-edited and prepared for publication, Merlin e-mails him a file entitled The Hunter’s Heart, God help them all, with only If you hate it, it’s your own fault in the body of the e-mail it’s attached to.
Considering Arthur has spent the last several days being inundated by calls from agents representing LGBT romances since he’s still the only editor officially on the imprint (and he’s going to kill someone in the office for gossiping, since the information isn’t meant to go public until there are actual titles), he gives serious thought to printing it out just so he can chuck it out a window. It’s Merlin’s, so of course it’s going to be several cuts above anything else he’s going to get, but Merlin’s usually quite a good gauge of his own talents and his less-than-optimistic e-mail has Arthur concerned.
Nonetheless, he opens up the document and wanders out of his office to speak to Freya. “Screen my calls, would you? I’ve got Merlin’s first Tintagel manuscript and I want to give it a start. I haven’t got any urgent business that overrides it for the moment, and since Vivian says she’s got an author who has a few Tintagel-ready MSes you can transfer calls from agents to her, as she’s the only other editor technically working it at the moment.”
Freya smiles at her computer screen before turning to look up at him. “Are you putting Vivian in charge of Tintagel once it’s launched?”
Arthur winces. “We’ll consider that as the time gets closer. For now, I’m asking any editors with space on their author lists to reserve a spot for a Tintagel author, but I don’t know if we’ll use that many, and then when the time comes I’ll figure out if anyone should be transferred to it fulltime. Eventually I suppose someone will have to be to manage to imprint, but it’s early for that.”
Freya, since she isn’t stupid and knows that Arthur mostly doesn’t want to deal with Vivian at imprint managers’ meetings when he already spends most of them sparring with Morgana, smiles. “As far as everyone is concerned, Mr. Pendragon, you’re out of the office for the morning.”
“You’re my favorite employee, and don’t worry, I’ll send you Merlin’s book once I’m finished in reward.”
That gets her properly grinning. “We’ve moved past paper manuscripts, you know. You could always e-mail it to me so I would have something to keep me occupied in between fobbing everyone off for you.”
Arthur grins back and rolls his eyes. “Yes, but that means I wouldn’t get to read it first.”
She gives him a pitying look, but with the way she’s still smiling he doesn’t take it seriously for a second. “It’s like you’re a child with a teddy bear you don’t want to share, which is ridiculous, since I knew him first.”
“In a moment, you’re going to remember that we sell porn here, and you’re going to regret the teddy bear metaphor.”
Freya makes a face and flaps a hand at him. “Go read the book. I need something to unwind with this evening so you need to read it quickly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” says Arthur, and goes back into his office, locking the door as he goes in case Morgana decides she’s on a mission and breezes past Freya despite his door being closed, which is almost universally recognized as his version of a do-not-disturb sign. He checks his e-mail once more, fobs most of the work off on other people, and gets to reading Merlin’s document.
The main character is, Arthur discovers within a page, a knight errant of sorts sometime after the Crusades, doing good deeds and occasionally winning tournament purses. He is also something of a bastard, judging by the way he acts with the farmer whose home he stops to stay in, and Arthur spends most of the chapter with eyebrows raised because Merlin generally makes a point of making his heroes nice people. At the end of the chapter, the love interest comes in, a peasant boy Sir Roland finds poaching in the forest (oh, the hunter’s heart, and God, Arthur will someday train Merlin to use titles that aren’t terrible). They’re awful to each other at first, Roland threatening to turn the boy in to the king’s justice and Alan calling him awful things, but when a boar attacks, it’s Alan’s arrows that save Roland’s life. Somehow, of course, this leads to Roland taking him on as a squire.
If this were anyone else’s writing, Arthur would be looking away to massage his temples, because he can’t see this going anywhere he’s comfortable with. At this point he’s expecting Roland to hate-shag Alan across the country until they inexplicably fall in love and that’s not what he’s come to expect from Merlin. Merlin’s straight romances tend to be completely, almost naively, sweet, the characters shy and tender with each other and the conflict mainly external, this amount of animosity is entirely unheard of.
Still, it is Merlin, and he owes him to keep trying, so he reads another scene, and another, and another, until he realizes that it’s Merlin, of course he isn’t doing what anyone else would with such a set-up. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes to see that Alan is besotted with Roland and willing to do anything for him and that Roland feels the same but won’t even say it to himself. What follows is chapter upon chapter of near-painful pining from both sides, chaste except for when one of them is in danger or injured, when they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other.
By the time the first sex scene rolls around, Arthur’s ready to shake the screen so one of them will do something, and he’s rewarded when Alan almost gets captured for poaching by someone much less forgiving than Roland and Roland kisses him, which leads to one of the most desperate, explicit scenes he’s ever had from Merlin.
Arthur was brought up around sex, and his father never tried to shelter him from it, though he did keep him from reading anything too explicit until puberty. He’s read so many romances over the years that the sex has gone from laughably formulaic to boring. Summers spent doing copyediting when he was in secondary school meant that he’d mostly stopped being turned on by the porn he was editing by the time he was seventeen, and it’s a rare scene that makes him so much as fidget. Merlin’s are better than most, but he can still keep his objectivity.
This one, however, has him squirming. It’s not as if they’re doing anything scandalous-certainly nothing Arthur hasn’t done with a partner or two, they aren’t even fucking-but the amount they want each other is almost painful, especially when they still don’t acknowledge how much they want each other. At the end of it, he pauses for a few moments to drink half a bottle of water, and it’s nearly a full minute before he realizes exactly how much money this book is going to make him, and then he can’t stop smiling.
He ignores the rest of his work to finish reading, only looking up when Freya brings him a sandwich sometime in the early afternoon. Roland and Alan spend half the remaining chapters completely misunderstanding each other and worrying that they’ve ruined everything, and when they finally sort it all out in the wake of a tournament where Roland almost gets killed, Arthur’s shocked to find that after the inevitable declarations of love Alan is the one to fuck Roland, in a scene that has him buzzing Freya to get more water (and her smirking at him). It’s quite obvious that Merlin is far more interested in this than he has been in his straight romances.
When he finishes, he e-mails the file to Freya with a reminder (which she’ll ignore) that she isn’t to read it at work and opens up a message to Merlin.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: The Hunter’s Heart
You are an insecure idiot, and this book is going to make us both a mint. I mean it, some of your best work, although the beginning’s a bit shaky. I was worried for a while that you were going to take it in a dangerous direction. A bit of pacing I want to work with you on, and the usual tightening up, but for the most part, remind me to smack you the next time I see you for not showing me before. Got anything else in your files?
Arthur breezes through the rest of his workday with the good mood he always gets when he knows he’s struck gold, ignoring Morgana and Gaius when they both stop by to raise their eyebrows in person and quite likely worrying Mithian with his joviality when he swings by the slush room to promise her that yes, he does intend to read her theoretical ticket out soon. He spends his evening reading Rushdie as a palate cleanser, as he likes to do when the romances get to be too much, and goes to bed early, somewhat surprised at not having a call or e-mail from Merlin.
When he gets to his office in the morning, Freya catches him immediately. “I read Merlin’s latest,” she says in a leading tone.
“Brilliant, isn’t it? Good enough that I might have created the imprint just to publish it if I’d seen it sooner.”
She hesitates. “And you didn’t think there was anything odd about it?”
He stares at her. “No, no more than Merlin’s usual pre-edit oddness, and I’m going to take him to task for the title again.”
“I actually like the title, but I meant … no, never mind, it’s no one’s business anyway. Mithian wants to meet with you about her book, I’ve set her up for ten o’clock, and other than that your schedule hasn’t changed since yesterday.”
Arthur decides not to ask any more questions for the sake of his own sanity, and goes into his office.
*
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
I’m going to start titling books after respected literary works and laugh every time you tell me on reflex that they’re awful, for the record. What about The Catcher in the Rye? Works for the new line, even if it’s a bit agrarian.
I’ve got three or four others that have gone through enough edits from me to send on to you, I think-a pirate one (shut up, I know), two contemporaries, and possibly a Regency, though it’s been a while since I had a look at that one. I’ll give them a look in between edits on HH, if you like, but you should probably debut authors who aren’t me as well or people are going to think you’re playing favorites.
And just … you’re going to call me a girl again, or something, but thanks. For taking a chance on all of this, and letting me be a part of it. It means a hell of a lot.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Re: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
Don’t you dare sully Salinger in such a fashion, Merlin, we may sell erotica but that’s no reason to be crass. And I criticize your titles because they are stupid; I am offended that you say otherwise.
My God, couldn’t you pick a subgenre? You’re impossible to market, you ridiculous creature. Fine, send them to me once you’ve looked them over and we’ll see what we can do with them. At this rate you’re going to be the only author I work with, you keep me so busy.
And of course I’m playing favorites, don’t be stupid. You’re my first, so of course you’re my favorite.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Re: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
Attached: prideandprejudice.rtf, swordinthestone.rtf, greatexpectations.rtf, warandpeace.rtf
I think I like this new titling scheme!
And of course I can’t pick a subgenre, you like me because I appeal to lots of markets and get readers reading across their chosen romance genre, I have heard you sell this to advertising whenever they cry.
Speaking of advertising, Gwen wants Lancelot’s number, this is going to end with picket fences and adorable puppies.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Very funny
I am not going to deign to open those, because they are undoubtedly just a hundred pages of Wingdings each. I know you well enough to know you’ll want to give all those books a proper reread and polish before you send them to me.
Re: Gwen and Lancelot-saw them flirting at the Rising Sun a few times, hadn’t realized it was going past that. Good on them, I suppose, although their domestic bliss is undoubtedly going to be sickening to look upon.
“Talking to Merlin?” Mithian asks from his office door.
Arthur doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. Instead, he hits send on his message before looking up, since he hadn’t realized it was ten and that Mithian will probably want to talk about The Greek Tycoon’s Virgin Harem Girl Mistress or whatever this book is called, which she keeps insisting belongs in the Ygraine line, not just the general collection. However much he wants an author to fill up some of the gaps Merlin’s possibly-temporary move over to Tintagel will leave, he’s still dubious about Mithian’s pet project. “Just sending him an e-mail, yes, did Freya say we were chatting?”
She smiles. “No, you’re grinning in that way that means you think you’ve got one over on someone, and ninety percent of the time that means Merlin. Free for our meeting?”
He shoves his laptop off to one side. “Of course, I’ll always make time for you. Anything else interesting from the slush room? Sorry about not getting around to you about the Fay manuscript sooner, but I’ve been a bit busy.”
She sits down in his extra chair and shrugs. “I actually like the slush room, it’s nice. If you need me to stay in there a while longer, I’ll stay, I just want to edit this book too.”
“With the new imprint I’ll likely need to be hiring another editor, but I may need to shut down the slush room for a while and just let it backlog, though I hate to do it, just for a few months until we get things worked out, but I’ll consider your author. Elaine Fay is the pen name, right? And she does realize that we do need a real name from her, unless she wishes to donate her work for us to publish?”
“She does, and was a bit adorable when she’d realized that of course we would need it to pay her.” Mithian pauses. “I think I would rather you read the book before we went into that, though.”
Arthur groans. “Oh God, it’s not Morgana, is it?”
“It’s not Morgana, I promise.” She pulls a stack of paper out of her bag. “I could e-mail you the file, but I know sometimes you like having a paper copy, especially when you have three different versions of Merlin’s work open. Look, it’s good, and it’s funny, and the sex didn’t make me cringe, and if it’s a parody at least it’s an affectionate one. Promise to give it a chance?”
“Do I ever not give things a chance?”
“Am I going to get fired if I answer that honestly?” She hands the manuscript across his desk. “Our spring lineup for the Ygraine imprint is all quite serious. This will do well to even it out, some.”
He looks at the title. Unchanging, which at least has the benefit of being brief, so there’s less space to cringe. “So you think it’s not just publishing-worthy, but Ygraine-worthy?”
“I’ve told you that already, and it’s really sweet that you try to be intimidating like your father when you’re giving people their slush room exit interviews, but you’re going to like it, I promise, and it’ll be a bit of a palate cleanser, Freya says Merlin’s latest is quite … intense.”
Arthur sighs. “By which you mean she’s e-mailing it to anyone within the company that begs the right way, I assume?”
“No, she’s holding it over all of our heads, though I would like to read it.”
“Maybe if you’re very good and this book turns out to be as well.” He makes a face at the cover page. “I need to talk to graphic design about covers for the Tintagel line, whether we’ve got stock or good models for it. Obviously Gwaine will pose with whoever, but not all of our heroes will look like him.”
Mithian pats his hand gently. “Breathe, Arthur, you’re giving me a headache just looking at you. Nobody is asking you to launch Tintagel before you’re ready. Now, go back to e-mailing Merlin, read Unchanging when you can so I can call her up and give her the good news, and don’t let this all stress you out too much. It’ll work out.”
“Says the woman who’s never had to run a company,” he shouts after her when she slips out of his office before he can muster a proper response, and refreshes his e-mail.
There’s a return message from Merlin, and Arthur debates saving it for his lunch break and getting down to reading Mithian’s pet manuscript, but he allows himself one last look instead.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Very funny
It was Wingdings 2, actually. Prat.
Get to work. I’m going to.
*
To Arthur’s surprise, when he finally gets through the manuscript, Unchanging is every bit as charming as Mithian promised. It’s not up to Merlin’s standards, not that he would expect it to be, but it’s funny and sharp and just tongue-in-cheek enough to appeal without condescending to its readers. He’ll need good authors to pick up the slack Merlin is leaving, since Merlin seems more enthused with every editing discussion with Arthur and Arthur doubts he’ll have the heart to move him off Tintagel in the end. If Elaine Fay keeps up writing books as good as her first, she’s a godsend.
Of course, first he has to tell Mithian all of this after a week of teasing skepticism, and all the comfort he has is knowing that if it were Morgana she would be much more smug than Mithian. With that firmly in mind, Arthur knocks on the slush room door, manuscript tucked under his arm, the next time he finds a free few minutes. She looks up from a file on her computer that’s making her make faces and smiles. “Arthur, what can I help you with?”
“You win,” he says, slipping inside and handing the manuscript over to her. “Train her to take her writing more seriously, some of the language is over the top and her tendency towards excess verbiage and haring off into side plots should be curbed before it becomes a problem.”
Mithian grins. “It’s a yes, then?”
“Congratulations and welcome to full editor status, Mithian, you know who to talk to from here, I don’t have the time to micromanage this one. Check in with one of the more experienced editors frequently, but I’m sure you knew that already.” He looks at her expectantly, and she nods, still grinning, obviously itching to start e-mailing everyone, probably starting with the author. “Now, however, you’re going to tell me who wrote it, before it becomes office gossip.”
“You’re going to love this, it’s a good story to tell at press events,” she assures him, and he just crosses his arms and waits for her to get on with it. “So, Elaine Fay.”
“Yes, I know that much.”
“You do realize the receptionist’s name is Elena O’Shea, don’t you?”
Well, that certainly explains what she’s doing with her laptop every morning when he comes in. Arthur can’t help laughing at himself for not figuring it out before. “Well, at least it will be easy for her to make it up for editorial meetings, won’t it? I wonder how long it’ll take before I have to hunt up a new receptionist, she’s far and away the best candidate we had when we hired her.”
“Far as I know, she wasn’t expecting a yes on this, it was some sort of dare or bet with a friend, but I’m betting she’ll have something else ready for us soon enough.” Mithian stands up and brushes herself off. “May I run down to reception and tell her in person? She’ll be so excited.”
“Fine, go with my blessing, get the paperwork filed by lunch if you can, will you? And then take her out for lunch somewhere at our expense, God knows she deserves it.”
Mithian kisses him on the cheek. “Don’t even pretend you aren’t pleased, we all know you adore Elena.”
“Yes, I do, which is precisely why I don’t want to hire a new receptionist,” he says, but he has to raise his voice by the end of it because she’s grabbed her purse and run off in the direction of the elevators. He leaves her manuscript on her desk and goes back to his own office, since there are phone calls that need to be made. “It’s a wonder I even pretend to have authority,” he says on his way by Freya.
“It really is,” she says, and stops him before he can keep going. “Copy-editing is through with A Remedy to Cure All Ills, just to keep you updated, and Leon says they’re working on the cover and cover copy in his department, it’ll definitely be ready for release on time, so you just worry about Tintagel.”
“Right.” Arthur sighs. “I think it’s nearly time for me to call my other authors and ask if they mind being temporarily fobbed off onto someone else and dump them onto Mithian for a bit while Tintagel gets its feet under it.”
“I’ll put it on your schedule.”
He eyes her. “Are you writing a romance novel too? I really don’t want to have to hire a new receptionist and a new PA.”
“No, I’m just waiting to get on the editing roster,” she says cheerfully, and sends him into his office.
“Nobody would ever mutiny this much if Father had left Camelot in Morgana’s hands,” he mutters, and goes to check his e-mail for anything urgent he’s missed in the last ten minutes.
There’s nothing urgent, but there is a message from Merlin.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Edits etc.
Working through the introduction issues on Hunter’s Heart, might have a reworked opening for you that makes Roland look like less of a git, as requested, even though I hold that he is in fact a git and we needn’t sugar-coat that for the readers. Also trying to figure out how to introduce antagonist sooner, thinking perhaps he could be the one that sent the attack in chap. 3? Let me know what you think.
Also, drinks tonight?
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Re: Edits etc.
He may very well be a git, and if you’d chosen to write from Alan’s POV (still feel like we should put in a bit of his perspective, you obviously know what’s going on in his head, but the readers don’t and God only knows why he’s attracted to Roland) it would make sense, but if we’re in his head we’ve got to be sympathetic to him, and his introduction was no help at all with that. Re: chapter 3, will have to do a reread of that section but it looks like it could make sense as long as we could come up with a reason for he and Roland to be mortal enemies that early. No one likes a senseless villain.
God yes on the drinks. Have just discovered that Mithian’s new pet author is my receptionist, suspect whole office is plotting against me. Morgana is going to be patronizing again. Perhaps drinks not at the Rising Sun?
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Coward
Okay, fair enough on the Roland-being-a-git thing. I’m not sure about Alan’s POV, I think a lot of the charm of the book is the reader not getting both thought processes, and frankly I found it more interesting to write from Roland’s. I’ve been in Alan’s shoes too many times. Hell, everyone who’s going to read this book has probably been in those shoes too many times, pining after the probably-straight guy, so this is something new (and God only knows why he falls for Roland, sometimes it’s a mystery to me too but it did seem to work). We can talk over villain motivations too, I agree it needs some adjustment if he comes in earlier. Maybe they’ve faced off in tournaments in the past?
Your office is not plotting against you, Arthur, seriously, do you not know that they call you King Arthur in correspondence? Half these people could have jobs editing the next Great British Novel and believe me, they aren’t staying for the sex.
And sure, we can go elsewhere-pub near my flat, maybe? Gwen’s out on a date with Lancelot tonight (finally) so half your office won’t crash the party.
Although have I told you lately that I think it’s adorable how terrified of your sister you are?
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Lies and slander
I hadn’t thought of it that way, although I do think a key scene or two-when Roland is feverish with infection, for instance, Alan’s POV would be of use-might need to be changed. However, if you do have reason I trust it. (Even if not knowing why Alan loves him sounds like a mystery. Unlike you to be coy.)
Pub near your flat sounds fine, I’ll be there sevenish, unless you need me to come drag you out of your writing stupor.
I refuse to respond to your outrageous allegations about my staff calling me anything of the sort, it would only encourage your delusions.
And I am many things, Merlin, like manly and charming and intelligent, but adorable certainly isn’t one of them.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Lies and slander
You just keep telling yourself that.
*
Part Two | Part Three
Wordcount: ~24,600
Summary: Camelot Publishing publishes romance novels, and when Arthur founds a new imprint of gay romance and invites his best friend and pet writer Merlin to write for it, it's a bit too easy to miss the fact that apparently he's living in one.
A/N: Written for this prompt at the meme (and seriously, do you leave these prompts out as Nell-bait or something?). Title is a song title from Aida: the Musical. The publishing industry has been shamelessly abused for literary purposes.
Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin.
Camelot Publishing is run out of a large, sleek building, the sort that looks as if it’s meant to house a law firm or the international headquarters for a business. The lobby is carpeted in lush red, with a receptionist’s desk straight out of an antique shop and a smartly-dressed security guard standing by the door. It’s quite often assumed, by anyone who passes by and hasn’t ever looked at a bookshelf in the romance section of a shop, that it must publish great literature, or perhaps that it’s the home of academic journals.
Nearly everyone, however, just snickers a bit, because they’ve all seen the racks of Camelot books on the shelves and they know that no matter how impressive the building is, what comes out of it are titles like The RAF Officer’s Secret Baby and A Passionate Affair. Some of it’s good, of course, most aren’t afraid to admit that, better than those American Harlequins, but in the end, it’s all the same sort of thing, and the building’s a bit of a joke to those in the neighborhood.
It’s Arthur Pendragon’s favorite building in the world.
He was practically brought up there, after all, in the hours he wasn’t at school, by his father behind the chief editor’s desk, by Alice, the receptionist who read him Dostoevsky while she minded him as a child, by Nimueh, the author who dared write about vampires and werewolves long before Buffy and who had a pact of mutual cordial hatred with his father, and by all the rest of the editors and authors who worked there or stopped by. Most of them cooed over him for being without a mother, and he got the sort of education that none of his peers did-he will never forget his father’s expression when his school called when Arthur, aged five, was caught explaining French kissing to his enthralled classmates. He loves what they do, and he’s never once regretted joining the family business, nor taking it over when his father died.
He’s giving that serious reconsideration this morning, however, because he’s walking in half an hour late and he knows that what he plans to do today would have his father rolling in his grave (well, it would if he hadn’t been tastefully cremated). Still, he greets the security guard-Percival, who by virtue of his physique looks as if he should be on one of the covers of their romances-and the receptionist-Elena, typing at her laptop behind the desk, who always grins and waves when he goes by-just as cheerfully as normal and catches the elevator to his floor.
“Morning, Mr. Pendragon. I have messages for you,” says Freya the second he gets out, in a tone that would sound respectful to anyone who didn’t know her as well as Arthur does after two years.
“I’m sorry, I forgot to charge my phone and my alarm didn’t go off,” he offers, since unlike his father he is perfectly willing to acknowledge that his PA runs his life and deserves explanations for these sorts of things. “What have you got for me?”
She gives him a tiny smile, which means that if he grabs her a coffee when he goes out for his noontime sandwich he’ll be forgiven, and picks up the pad of paper she keeps next to her keyboard. “Your sister wants to talk to you, monthly sales report is in and looking good though I imagine you’ll want to look it over yourself, Leon has the covers for five more books ready for approval, Mithian’s been giggling over something in the slush room all morning so you’ll probably want to ask her about that, and Merlin says the edits you asked for on A Remedy for Love are finished and this had better be the last round.”
“His titles are terrible, why must I always fix his titles? They look tawdry.”
Freya sighs. “We publish romance and erotica, Arthur, and Gwaine’s chest is on half of what we sell, including Merlin’s novels. How are you worried about tawdry?”
“Fine, they’re just awful, I thought ‘tawdry’ might be a bit kinder.” He goes into his office and puts his briefcase down. Freya trails after him, still holding her pad and looking vaguely disapproving. “I’ll deal with Mithian later. As long as she’s giggling it’s fine, unless she’s snapped from all the horror that goes through that room, and the sales reports can wait until afternoon. What did Morgana want?”
“She says, and I quote, that she wishes you luck today and that if you aren’t calling Merlin in on the project it’s a waste and she’s going to tempt him into writing about faeries so she can steal him from you. I can only assume this has to do with all the market research you’ve been pretending not to do over the last few months.”
Freya’s probably the person who knows the most about what’s going on in the office, but she’s wonderfully discreet when she needs to be, so he won’t bother being disconcerted that she’s figured it out. She’ll let him tell Merlin, at least, which is the important part. “Her concern is appreciated and unnecessary, you may tell her so when she continues to badger us with calls. I have some things to finalize on the project before I reveal it, and I don’t want her bothering me.”
She eyes him for a few moments before finally letting a proper smile free. “If it is what I think it is, it’s going to mean a lot to many of our readers, and many people in this office as well.”
“Myself included,” he assures her, though of course she knows. “That’s part of the reason I’m doing it, on top of the massive profit we stand to make. Now, go guard me from Morgana for a few hours while I write a release, tell Merlin the title on his latest needs to be changed, and look over these sales figures so they don’t get buried in the rush.”
“Yes, Mr. Pendragon. And I’ll let Mithian know to disturb you only if it’s important.”
“Good. Now shoo.”
Freya rolls her eyes, but she goes back to her desk nonetheless and leaves him in peace to start his computer and open up a message to Merlin.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: “Remedy” edits and a question
Freya tells me you’ve got the edits for “Remedy” finished, so you can send that to me whenever. It might take me a little while longer than usual to finish up for approval, but this is what you get for sticking with me when I had to foist most of my authors off to run the company. We need to talk about the title, by the way. I’m thinking A Remedy to Cure All Ills, maybe.
As for the question: I’m planning on launching a new imprint, and I want you writing for it. Market research has been showing that readers are looking for gay romance, especially historical, and since I know you’ve got some of that hidden in your files somewhere, I was hoping you’d be willing to be one of the debut authors. You could stay with the Ygraine imprint as well, or move over to the new one entirely, but either way unless you object I’ll continue editing your work. The announcement of the new line is going out later today and I’d love to be able to attach your name to it.
I would say “no pressure” but we both know that’s not true. Even Morgana wants you to do it!
Please let me know at your earliest convenience.
*
The slush pile at Camelot Publishing has its own legend, and it’s the legend of Camelot Publishing itself.
The story of how his parents met is the first story Arthur remembers hearing as a child, actually, aside from carefully-censored snippets from Nimueh’s books while she was babysitting him. It goes like this: once, a lowly intern named Uther Pendragon was assigned the job of going through the slush pile at the publishing house where he was working, and somewhere in the pile he ran across a romance novel, one so gorgeously written he knew it had to be published and that, more importantly, he had to edit it. He bypassed all known procedure, called the author, met Ygraine Dubois, emptied his trust fund on printing and advertising, and married her three days after her first romance hit bookstores and started flying off the shelves.
After that, after Camelot Publishing got offices and more offers and got bigger and bigger, every new editor that was hired on had to spend a while with the sole duty of going through the slush room, until they found a book they had to be involved with, at which point they were moved into general editing and given that author to edit. It’s one of his father’s traditions that Arthur is more than happy to uphold. Some spend a week in there-Morgana, always lucky, discovered Morgause on day six in the slush room and promptly went off to found the Avalon imprint and give paranormal romance its own instead of shoving it in with everything else. Some spend a month, or two. Most manage it within six months.
Arthur took a year. It wasn’t that he didn’t run across any books worth publishing-he sent a few off to Morgana, some to Gaius running the historical imprint, a few to the general collection, but he’d been brought up on the story of his father reading his mother’s work and knowing, instantly, that they had to work together. He didn’t expect to meet the love of his life that way, but he was waiting for a certain spark. By the year mark, even his father was suggesting that Arthur take on a few of the authors he’d sent on to other people, but then Arthur discovered Merlin. He almost tossed the manuscript aside without reading it-written by a man, titled A Moment of Truth of all the idiot things-but he read the first few pages to be fair, and an hour later he put down the first half of the manuscript and knew that he’d found his ticket out of the slush room, and a new author for the Ygraine imprint as well, the crème de la crème of Camelot Publishing’s selection.
Years later, Merlin is still his in a way that his other authors aren’t, not that he has many now that he’s busy with the administrative details of running Camelot Publishing, and his best mate as well. They argue and snipe, just like they did from the first e-mail, but they also go out for drinks and Merlin got him to hire Freya when he found out Arthur was looking for a PA. He knows that A Moment of Truth (the one book Arthur never convinced him to change the title of) is the highly-fictionalized version of his parents’ love story and that he never expected to be published but took to it like a duck to water. And Merlin listens to him complain about not getting to work with authors as much as he’d like these days and drags him out of the office when he’s been pushing too hard. As far as Arthur’s concerned, there really isn’t much they don’t tell each other, these days, though they don’t talk much about their love lives considering it always leads back to talking about work.
He hasn’t mentioned the soon-to-be-launched Tintagel Imprint to Merlin, though, even though he’s known all along that he wants Merlin writing for it. At first, it was because he didn’t know if it would happen at all and didn’t want Merlin’s disappointment if it didn’t happen. After, it became more of a surprise-Merlin’s admitted, before, that he writes gay romance when he isn’t writing for Arthur, and that he’s published a few short pieces on the internet to supplement his income, and Arthur can’t imagine he’d turn down a chance to publish some of his longer work.
He’s expecting enthusiasm, though, which is why it’s a bit of a surprise when Merlin’s return e-mail takes quite a while to arrive. Merlin is an early riser and tends to sit at his laptop until dragged away (which is why he still lives with Gwen even though both of them could afford to be on their own at this point), but it’s nearly lunch by the time he gets a message, when he’s already finished going through sales reports and finances and okaying what seem like a hundred things.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: “Remedy” edits and a question
Need to get the draft into a format you won’t object to, so you should get it by tonight at the latest, and fine, you tyrant, my titles really aren’t as bad as you make them out to be, you actually published a book called The Frenchman’s Tempestuous Mistress last month so you really haven’t got a leg to stand on.
About your question: I’m honored, I guess, and I won’t ask if you’re sure about doing the imprint because you’re you and you probably researched every possible statistic before agreeing to it. I’ve got some stuff, yeah, but I don’t know if it’s very good, you probably don’t want it, I could probably recommend some other writers to you, though?
And whatever happens, of course you’re still editing my work, don’t be stupid. I’ve only just got you trained.
Arthur rolls his eyes and tries not to sound as relieved as he feels when he sends an e-mail back telling Merlin not to be an idiot, of course Arthur wants his work, pick out the best rough draft and send it his way, and that if Merlin ever abandons him for another editor Arthur will have to commit homicide, though he’s unsure if it will be of Merlin or the new editor. Merlin is his Ygraine, after all, even if they aren’t in love.
Once he’s had a more reassuring e-mail from Merlin saying that yes, fine, he’ll dig something up but it’s Arthur’s own fault if he hates it, Arthur sends out the e-mail that he’s drafted to send to the company.
From: Arthur
To: Camelot Publishing Mailing List
Subject: Announcing a new imprint!
Camelot Publishing will be debuting a new imprint in a few months. The Tintagel Imprint will be focused on gay romance, primarily historical but with some others, and our very own Merlin Emerson will be one of the debut authors for the line. If anyone knows any good writers or agents marketing quality romances, or if any editors wish to try this imprint, please get in contact with me.
It takes Freya all of two minutes to buzz him. “Your sister wants to talk to you. Do you want to let her gloat now or later?”
“Later, there will be alcohol later and I can drag Merlin with us to deflect. In fact, I’m off to see Mithian in the slush room, maybe go over a few manuscripts myself for old times’ sake. Tell Morgana I’m far too busy to chat.”
“Coward,” Freya comments when he passes by her desk a few seconds later, but she’s smiling at her computer screen, typing out an e-mail, most likely to someone asking if Arthur is serious. His father was famous for being adamant about not publishing gay romance, after all, and people are still used to Arthur being his father’s son.
Mithian, when he gets to the slush room, is sitting with her hand over her mouth and her eyes crinkled up in a smile while she looks at the manuscript in front of her. “What have you got there?” he asks.
“You’ve had a busy day,” she observes, switching to e-mail on her screen. “And I think I might have my ticket out of the slush room.”
“Oh?”
“It’s about a Greek business tycoon whose childhood sweetheart was kidnapped into a harem and who he saves and then makes into his virgin mistress,” says Mithian, in all seriousness. Arthur blinks at her. “No, you don’t understand. Whoever she is-and it’s terribly obvious that it’s a pen name, nobody is actually named Elaine Fay-it’s quite obvious that she wrote this as some sort of dare or just to make fun of it all so it comes out rather screamingly funny.”
Arthur raises his eyebrows. “Our consumers don’t appreciate being made fun of, and to be frank I’m more than a bit dubious.”
“Really, Arthur, it’s like you don’t trust me. I’m going to finish this, and then you’re going to read it, and you will eat your words. The plot may be a ridiculous satire, but the writing is funny and the sex is frankly better than nearly anything we’ve got except Merlin, so we’d better do it, especially if we’re losing Merlin to your new imprint.”
“I don’t know if he’ll stay in it, he seems oddly reluctant.” Arthur shrugs. “Anyway, I’ll take a look at that once you’ve finished, if you’re so certain.”
Mithian snorts. “Of course. Reluctant. Now, go away, you’re the boss and you aren’t allowed to hide in here after you make big announcements. Exactly how long do you think it will take for someone to let the publishing blogs know what we’re doing? You’ll have interviews to do.”
“I should have let Morgana take the company over,” he grumbles, but he lets her get back to work and goes back to his own desk, ignoring the way Freya shakes her head and smiles as he passes.
*
The Rising Sun, around the corner from Camelot Publishing, does a brisk trade in horribly pink cocktails. Back in the early days, when Camelot was just beginning to set up shop in its current location, it was a little down-scale bar, more beer sold than anything else and most of their furniture broken and repaired a hundred times, the kind of place that had been there for ages and let the city grow up around it. It’s the only place in the neighborhood besides a little coffee shop and bakery that provides food and drink, though, so it didn’t take long for it to become the unofficial bar for the staff and authors of Camelot Publishing. The owners, smarter than they previously let on, figured out where the new clientele was from and trained their bartenders to make lethal cocktails, which got them the money to replace their furniture and make their name as a trendy bar.
It’s where everyone from Camelot tends to go in the evenings, editors and authors and graphic designers and sometimes former employees, to talk about work and anything but. This particular Monday, by the time Arthur walks in the place is full nearly to bursting, and they don’t even do him the favor of pretending that they’re there for any reason besides getting the gossip about Tintagel, since they all go silent the second he walks in.
“What a remarkably coincidental gathering,” he remarks as dryly as he can, and goes to the corner table that Merlin and Morgana seem to have staked out.
“You can’t blame them for being curious,” says Morgana as he sits down, and shoves a cocktail in his direction. “You did cause a sensation, you know.”
“I figured it out. Evening, Merlin, I got your file but I haven’t had time to go through it yet, for obvious reasons, but if you fixed everything I mentioned it’ll only take a skim before we send it off to be copy-edited.”
Merlin is watching him with a brow-furrowed suspicious expression that Arthur hasn’t seen since he tried to throw a surprise party for him when his first book made the bestseller lists. “You were sort of busy. You couldn’t have warned a few people? I think Lancelot was crying earlier, and none of the rest of the marketing department looks happy either.”
Arthur disregards that, since Lancelot may be the sensitive sort but he looks perfectly pleased to be flirting outrageously with Merlin’s roommate over by the bar. “I didn’t announce that I want the line to debut next week, for God’s sake. And they do their own market research, they ought to have been prepared for the possibility, especially when I told them to hire on someone new last month. That historically implies expansion.”
Morgana raises on perfectly-groomed eyebrow, but Merlin just gapes at him. “Last month? You’ve been planning this that long and didn’t warn me?”
“Oh, no, I just decided last night that gee, I’ve not read enough gay porn lately and thought I would finance it through my company.” Arthur rolls his eyes. “Of course I’ve been planning it that long, Merlin, you idiot. Longer, even. You of all people know I’m not rash with my business decisions.”
Merlin, apparently deciding that he isn’t going to get anything useful out of Arthur, turns to Morgana. “Did you know about this?”
“Oh, poppet.” She takes a long pull off her pint, because she has powers the rest of them know not of and can get proper drinks out of Mary behind the bar. “Of course I did. Not that Arthur told me, but he’s remarkably transparent sometimes.”
“Am not,” Arthur mutters, though it’s mostly for form’s sake.
Merlin makes a despairing noise into his drink, which is a distressing shade of magenta. “Seriously, warning would have been nice.”
“Hey.” Arthur reaches across the table to prod him gently in the arm and waits until Merlin is looking at him to continue. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but we’ve talked about it, how much you always wished there’d been romance you could see yourself in, and I thought it would be a good surprise. The line isn’t debuting until you’re ready, so don’t feel as if you have to hurry.”
Merlin swallows and drops his gaze. “Wow, great,” he mutters. “That’s not intimidating at all, a whole imprint waiting on me.”
Morgana raps Merin’s knuckles with a pen and both of them jump. “The pair of you are ridiculous. Say thank you nicely to Arthur for risking his company on you.”
“Thank you,” says Merlin, ears gone red, under Arthur’s objection that he’s doing no such thing, which gets interrupted by his own rap on the knuckles, a good deal harder than the one Merlin got.
“And you,” she says with a terrifying smile, “thank Merlin for agreeing to debut this line for you even though he had no warning whatsoever.”
“Do you ever feel like she’s the schoolmarm and we’ve been called in to her office to be reprimanded? I have the sudden terror that I’m going to be caned.” Arthur asks, and gets a quick flash of Merlin’s grin before Morgana kicks him under the table. “Ouch, fine, thank you, Merlin, for so graciously agreeing to do this for me.”
“That’s better.” She grabs her glass and stands up. “Now, you boys behave, Gwaine is sexually harassing someone again and Mary says she’s going to make us clean up the next time someone dumps a drink on him.”
Merlin waits until she’s buried in the noisy hum of the chatter of the bar before he speaks again, finally grinning at Arthur. “Have I mentioned lately that your sister is terrifying?”
“Not this week.” He takes a drink of his cocktail. A bit sweet for his taste, but other than when he was at university this is the bar he’s been to for most of his life, so he’s inured to the ridiculous cocktails by this point. “If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to. I figured you would want to-I am actually aware that most of what you write for us is simply to pay the bills, and I thought this might be a way for you to get a message out.”
After a second, Merlin laughs a bit and shakes his head. “My God, you’re ridiculous. We’re ridiculous, trying to change the world with romance novels, but I’ll give it a shot, as long as you promise not to blame me when people start protesting on the streets.”
“Honestly, Merlin, it’s not as if we’re in America.” He holds up his glass to toast. “To the Tintagel Imprint, then, and our continued successful partnership.”
Merlin clinks their drinks together, of course managing to spill a bit of his down his hand. “To Tintagel and us, then, you great idiot.”
Arthur almost chokes on his drink when someone claps a hand on his shoulder before he’s swallowed. Of course, when he turns around, it’s Gwaine. “Come on, princess, you and Merlin can’t monopolize each other all night, you’re the stars of the show and we’ve got porn to celebrate!”
“You’re incredibly inappropriate,” Arthur grouses, but he lets Gwaine pull them up and out into the crowd to talk about the new imprint and what he plans to do with it and what Merlin plans to write for it.
He doesn’t get Merlin alone again that night, but they’ll have plenty of time to hash out the details later.
*
Three days after Arthur sends A Remedy to Cure All Ills off to be copy-edited and prepared for publication, Merlin e-mails him a file entitled The Hunter’s Heart, God help them all, with only If you hate it, it’s your own fault in the body of the e-mail it’s attached to.
Considering Arthur has spent the last several days being inundated by calls from agents representing LGBT romances since he’s still the only editor officially on the imprint (and he’s going to kill someone in the office for gossiping, since the information isn’t meant to go public until there are actual titles), he gives serious thought to printing it out just so he can chuck it out a window. It’s Merlin’s, so of course it’s going to be several cuts above anything else he’s going to get, but Merlin’s usually quite a good gauge of his own talents and his less-than-optimistic e-mail has Arthur concerned.
Nonetheless, he opens up the document and wanders out of his office to speak to Freya. “Screen my calls, would you? I’ve got Merlin’s first Tintagel manuscript and I want to give it a start. I haven’t got any urgent business that overrides it for the moment, and since Vivian says she’s got an author who has a few Tintagel-ready MSes you can transfer calls from agents to her, as she’s the only other editor technically working it at the moment.”
Freya smiles at her computer screen before turning to look up at him. “Are you putting Vivian in charge of Tintagel once it’s launched?”
Arthur winces. “We’ll consider that as the time gets closer. For now, I’m asking any editors with space on their author lists to reserve a spot for a Tintagel author, but I don’t know if we’ll use that many, and then when the time comes I’ll figure out if anyone should be transferred to it fulltime. Eventually I suppose someone will have to be to manage to imprint, but it’s early for that.”
Freya, since she isn’t stupid and knows that Arthur mostly doesn’t want to deal with Vivian at imprint managers’ meetings when he already spends most of them sparring with Morgana, smiles. “As far as everyone is concerned, Mr. Pendragon, you’re out of the office for the morning.”
“You’re my favorite employee, and don’t worry, I’ll send you Merlin’s book once I’m finished in reward.”
That gets her properly grinning. “We’ve moved past paper manuscripts, you know. You could always e-mail it to me so I would have something to keep me occupied in between fobbing everyone off for you.”
Arthur grins back and rolls his eyes. “Yes, but that means I wouldn’t get to read it first.”
She gives him a pitying look, but with the way she’s still smiling he doesn’t take it seriously for a second. “It’s like you’re a child with a teddy bear you don’t want to share, which is ridiculous, since I knew him first.”
“In a moment, you’re going to remember that we sell porn here, and you’re going to regret the teddy bear metaphor.”
Freya makes a face and flaps a hand at him. “Go read the book. I need something to unwind with this evening so you need to read it quickly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” says Arthur, and goes back into his office, locking the door as he goes in case Morgana decides she’s on a mission and breezes past Freya despite his door being closed, which is almost universally recognized as his version of a do-not-disturb sign. He checks his e-mail once more, fobs most of the work off on other people, and gets to reading Merlin’s document.
The main character is, Arthur discovers within a page, a knight errant of sorts sometime after the Crusades, doing good deeds and occasionally winning tournament purses. He is also something of a bastard, judging by the way he acts with the farmer whose home he stops to stay in, and Arthur spends most of the chapter with eyebrows raised because Merlin generally makes a point of making his heroes nice people. At the end of the chapter, the love interest comes in, a peasant boy Sir Roland finds poaching in the forest (oh, the hunter’s heart, and God, Arthur will someday train Merlin to use titles that aren’t terrible). They’re awful to each other at first, Roland threatening to turn the boy in to the king’s justice and Alan calling him awful things, but when a boar attacks, it’s Alan’s arrows that save Roland’s life. Somehow, of course, this leads to Roland taking him on as a squire.
If this were anyone else’s writing, Arthur would be looking away to massage his temples, because he can’t see this going anywhere he’s comfortable with. At this point he’s expecting Roland to hate-shag Alan across the country until they inexplicably fall in love and that’s not what he’s come to expect from Merlin. Merlin’s straight romances tend to be completely, almost naively, sweet, the characters shy and tender with each other and the conflict mainly external, this amount of animosity is entirely unheard of.
Still, it is Merlin, and he owes him to keep trying, so he reads another scene, and another, and another, until he realizes that it’s Merlin, of course he isn’t doing what anyone else would with such a set-up. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes to see that Alan is besotted with Roland and willing to do anything for him and that Roland feels the same but won’t even say it to himself. What follows is chapter upon chapter of near-painful pining from both sides, chaste except for when one of them is in danger or injured, when they can’t seem to keep their hands off each other.
By the time the first sex scene rolls around, Arthur’s ready to shake the screen so one of them will do something, and he’s rewarded when Alan almost gets captured for poaching by someone much less forgiving than Roland and Roland kisses him, which leads to one of the most desperate, explicit scenes he’s ever had from Merlin.
Arthur was brought up around sex, and his father never tried to shelter him from it, though he did keep him from reading anything too explicit until puberty. He’s read so many romances over the years that the sex has gone from laughably formulaic to boring. Summers spent doing copyediting when he was in secondary school meant that he’d mostly stopped being turned on by the porn he was editing by the time he was seventeen, and it’s a rare scene that makes him so much as fidget. Merlin’s are better than most, but he can still keep his objectivity.
This one, however, has him squirming. It’s not as if they’re doing anything scandalous-certainly nothing Arthur hasn’t done with a partner or two, they aren’t even fucking-but the amount they want each other is almost painful, especially when they still don’t acknowledge how much they want each other. At the end of it, he pauses for a few moments to drink half a bottle of water, and it’s nearly a full minute before he realizes exactly how much money this book is going to make him, and then he can’t stop smiling.
He ignores the rest of his work to finish reading, only looking up when Freya brings him a sandwich sometime in the early afternoon. Roland and Alan spend half the remaining chapters completely misunderstanding each other and worrying that they’ve ruined everything, and when they finally sort it all out in the wake of a tournament where Roland almost gets killed, Arthur’s shocked to find that after the inevitable declarations of love Alan is the one to fuck Roland, in a scene that has him buzzing Freya to get more water (and her smirking at him). It’s quite obvious that Merlin is far more interested in this than he has been in his straight romances.
When he finishes, he e-mails the file to Freya with a reminder (which she’ll ignore) that she isn’t to read it at work and opens up a message to Merlin.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: The Hunter’s Heart
You are an insecure idiot, and this book is going to make us both a mint. I mean it, some of your best work, although the beginning’s a bit shaky. I was worried for a while that you were going to take it in a dangerous direction. A bit of pacing I want to work with you on, and the usual tightening up, but for the most part, remind me to smack you the next time I see you for not showing me before. Got anything else in your files?
Arthur breezes through the rest of his workday with the good mood he always gets when he knows he’s struck gold, ignoring Morgana and Gaius when they both stop by to raise their eyebrows in person and quite likely worrying Mithian with his joviality when he swings by the slush room to promise her that yes, he does intend to read her theoretical ticket out soon. He spends his evening reading Rushdie as a palate cleanser, as he likes to do when the romances get to be too much, and goes to bed early, somewhat surprised at not having a call or e-mail from Merlin.
When he gets to his office in the morning, Freya catches him immediately. “I read Merlin’s latest,” she says in a leading tone.
“Brilliant, isn’t it? Good enough that I might have created the imprint just to publish it if I’d seen it sooner.”
She hesitates. “And you didn’t think there was anything odd about it?”
He stares at her. “No, no more than Merlin’s usual pre-edit oddness, and I’m going to take him to task for the title again.”
“I actually like the title, but I meant … no, never mind, it’s no one’s business anyway. Mithian wants to meet with you about her book, I’ve set her up for ten o’clock, and other than that your schedule hasn’t changed since yesterday.”
Arthur decides not to ask any more questions for the sake of his own sanity, and goes into his office.
*
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
I’m going to start titling books after respected literary works and laugh every time you tell me on reflex that they’re awful, for the record. What about The Catcher in the Rye? Works for the new line, even if it’s a bit agrarian.
I’ve got three or four others that have gone through enough edits from me to send on to you, I think-a pirate one (shut up, I know), two contemporaries, and possibly a Regency, though it’s been a while since I had a look at that one. I’ll give them a look in between edits on HH, if you like, but you should probably debut authors who aren’t me as well or people are going to think you’re playing favorites.
And just … you’re going to call me a girl again, or something, but thanks. For taking a chance on all of this, and letting me be a part of it. It means a hell of a lot.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Re: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
Don’t you dare sully Salinger in such a fashion, Merlin, we may sell erotica but that’s no reason to be crass. And I criticize your titles because they are stupid; I am offended that you say otherwise.
My God, couldn’t you pick a subgenre? You’re impossible to market, you ridiculous creature. Fine, send them to me once you’ve looked them over and we’ll see what we can do with them. At this rate you’re going to be the only author I work with, you keep me so busy.
And of course I’m playing favorites, don’t be stupid. You’re my first, so of course you’re my favorite.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Re: Re: The Hunter’s Heart
Attached: prideandprejudice.rtf, swordinthestone.rtf, greatexpectations.rtf, warandpeace.rtf
I think I like this new titling scheme!
And of course I can’t pick a subgenre, you like me because I appeal to lots of markets and get readers reading across their chosen romance genre, I have heard you sell this to advertising whenever they cry.
Speaking of advertising, Gwen wants Lancelot’s number, this is going to end with picket fences and adorable puppies.
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Very funny
I am not going to deign to open those, because they are undoubtedly just a hundred pages of Wingdings each. I know you well enough to know you’ll want to give all those books a proper reread and polish before you send them to me.
Re: Gwen and Lancelot-saw them flirting at the Rising Sun a few times, hadn’t realized it was going past that. Good on them, I suppose, although their domestic bliss is undoubtedly going to be sickening to look upon.
“Talking to Merlin?” Mithian asks from his office door.
Arthur doesn’t jump, but it’s a near thing. Instead, he hits send on his message before looking up, since he hadn’t realized it was ten and that Mithian will probably want to talk about The Greek Tycoon’s Virgin Harem Girl Mistress or whatever this book is called, which she keeps insisting belongs in the Ygraine line, not just the general collection. However much he wants an author to fill up some of the gaps Merlin’s possibly-temporary move over to Tintagel will leave, he’s still dubious about Mithian’s pet project. “Just sending him an e-mail, yes, did Freya say we were chatting?”
She smiles. “No, you’re grinning in that way that means you think you’ve got one over on someone, and ninety percent of the time that means Merlin. Free for our meeting?”
He shoves his laptop off to one side. “Of course, I’ll always make time for you. Anything else interesting from the slush room? Sorry about not getting around to you about the Fay manuscript sooner, but I’ve been a bit busy.”
She sits down in his extra chair and shrugs. “I actually like the slush room, it’s nice. If you need me to stay in there a while longer, I’ll stay, I just want to edit this book too.”
“With the new imprint I’ll likely need to be hiring another editor, but I may need to shut down the slush room for a while and just let it backlog, though I hate to do it, just for a few months until we get things worked out, but I’ll consider your author. Elaine Fay is the pen name, right? And she does realize that we do need a real name from her, unless she wishes to donate her work for us to publish?”
“She does, and was a bit adorable when she’d realized that of course we would need it to pay her.” Mithian pauses. “I think I would rather you read the book before we went into that, though.”
Arthur groans. “Oh God, it’s not Morgana, is it?”
“It’s not Morgana, I promise.” She pulls a stack of paper out of her bag. “I could e-mail you the file, but I know sometimes you like having a paper copy, especially when you have three different versions of Merlin’s work open. Look, it’s good, and it’s funny, and the sex didn’t make me cringe, and if it’s a parody at least it’s an affectionate one. Promise to give it a chance?”
“Do I ever not give things a chance?”
“Am I going to get fired if I answer that honestly?” She hands the manuscript across his desk. “Our spring lineup for the Ygraine imprint is all quite serious. This will do well to even it out, some.”
He looks at the title. Unchanging, which at least has the benefit of being brief, so there’s less space to cringe. “So you think it’s not just publishing-worthy, but Ygraine-worthy?”
“I’ve told you that already, and it’s really sweet that you try to be intimidating like your father when you’re giving people their slush room exit interviews, but you’re going to like it, I promise, and it’ll be a bit of a palate cleanser, Freya says Merlin’s latest is quite … intense.”
Arthur sighs. “By which you mean she’s e-mailing it to anyone within the company that begs the right way, I assume?”
“No, she’s holding it over all of our heads, though I would like to read it.”
“Maybe if you’re very good and this book turns out to be as well.” He makes a face at the cover page. “I need to talk to graphic design about covers for the Tintagel line, whether we’ve got stock or good models for it. Obviously Gwaine will pose with whoever, but not all of our heroes will look like him.”
Mithian pats his hand gently. “Breathe, Arthur, you’re giving me a headache just looking at you. Nobody is asking you to launch Tintagel before you’re ready. Now, go back to e-mailing Merlin, read Unchanging when you can so I can call her up and give her the good news, and don’t let this all stress you out too much. It’ll work out.”
“Says the woman who’s never had to run a company,” he shouts after her when she slips out of his office before he can muster a proper response, and refreshes his e-mail.
There’s a return message from Merlin, and Arthur debates saving it for his lunch break and getting down to reading Mithian’s pet manuscript, but he allows himself one last look instead.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Very funny
It was Wingdings 2, actually. Prat.
Get to work. I’m going to.
*
To Arthur’s surprise, when he finally gets through the manuscript, Unchanging is every bit as charming as Mithian promised. It’s not up to Merlin’s standards, not that he would expect it to be, but it’s funny and sharp and just tongue-in-cheek enough to appeal without condescending to its readers. He’ll need good authors to pick up the slack Merlin is leaving, since Merlin seems more enthused with every editing discussion with Arthur and Arthur doubts he’ll have the heart to move him off Tintagel in the end. If Elaine Fay keeps up writing books as good as her first, she’s a godsend.
Of course, first he has to tell Mithian all of this after a week of teasing skepticism, and all the comfort he has is knowing that if it were Morgana she would be much more smug than Mithian. With that firmly in mind, Arthur knocks on the slush room door, manuscript tucked under his arm, the next time he finds a free few minutes. She looks up from a file on her computer that’s making her make faces and smiles. “Arthur, what can I help you with?”
“You win,” he says, slipping inside and handing the manuscript over to her. “Train her to take her writing more seriously, some of the language is over the top and her tendency towards excess verbiage and haring off into side plots should be curbed before it becomes a problem.”
Mithian grins. “It’s a yes, then?”
“Congratulations and welcome to full editor status, Mithian, you know who to talk to from here, I don’t have the time to micromanage this one. Check in with one of the more experienced editors frequently, but I’m sure you knew that already.” He looks at her expectantly, and she nods, still grinning, obviously itching to start e-mailing everyone, probably starting with the author. “Now, however, you’re going to tell me who wrote it, before it becomes office gossip.”
“You’re going to love this, it’s a good story to tell at press events,” she assures him, and he just crosses his arms and waits for her to get on with it. “So, Elaine Fay.”
“Yes, I know that much.”
“You do realize the receptionist’s name is Elena O’Shea, don’t you?”
Well, that certainly explains what she’s doing with her laptop every morning when he comes in. Arthur can’t help laughing at himself for not figuring it out before. “Well, at least it will be easy for her to make it up for editorial meetings, won’t it? I wonder how long it’ll take before I have to hunt up a new receptionist, she’s far and away the best candidate we had when we hired her.”
“Far as I know, she wasn’t expecting a yes on this, it was some sort of dare or bet with a friend, but I’m betting she’ll have something else ready for us soon enough.” Mithian stands up and brushes herself off. “May I run down to reception and tell her in person? She’ll be so excited.”
“Fine, go with my blessing, get the paperwork filed by lunch if you can, will you? And then take her out for lunch somewhere at our expense, God knows she deserves it.”
Mithian kisses him on the cheek. “Don’t even pretend you aren’t pleased, we all know you adore Elena.”
“Yes, I do, which is precisely why I don’t want to hire a new receptionist,” he says, but he has to raise his voice by the end of it because she’s grabbed her purse and run off in the direction of the elevators. He leaves her manuscript on her desk and goes back to his own office, since there are phone calls that need to be made. “It’s a wonder I even pretend to have authority,” he says on his way by Freya.
“It really is,” she says, and stops him before he can keep going. “Copy-editing is through with A Remedy to Cure All Ills, just to keep you updated, and Leon says they’re working on the cover and cover copy in his department, it’ll definitely be ready for release on time, so you just worry about Tintagel.”
“Right.” Arthur sighs. “I think it’s nearly time for me to call my other authors and ask if they mind being temporarily fobbed off onto someone else and dump them onto Mithian for a bit while Tintagel gets its feet under it.”
“I’ll put it on your schedule.”
He eyes her. “Are you writing a romance novel too? I really don’t want to have to hire a new receptionist and a new PA.”
“No, I’m just waiting to get on the editing roster,” she says cheerfully, and sends him into his office.
“Nobody would ever mutiny this much if Father had left Camelot in Morgana’s hands,” he mutters, and goes to check his e-mail for anything urgent he’s missed in the last ten minutes.
There’s nothing urgent, but there is a message from Merlin.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Edits etc.
Working through the introduction issues on Hunter’s Heart, might have a reworked opening for you that makes Roland look like less of a git, as requested, even though I hold that he is in fact a git and we needn’t sugar-coat that for the readers. Also trying to figure out how to introduce antagonist sooner, thinking perhaps he could be the one that sent the attack in chap. 3? Let me know what you think.
Also, drinks tonight?
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Re: Edits etc.
He may very well be a git, and if you’d chosen to write from Alan’s POV (still feel like we should put in a bit of his perspective, you obviously know what’s going on in his head, but the readers don’t and God only knows why he’s attracted to Roland) it would make sense, but if we’re in his head we’ve got to be sympathetic to him, and his introduction was no help at all with that. Re: chapter 3, will have to do a reread of that section but it looks like it could make sense as long as we could come up with a reason for he and Roland to be mortal enemies that early. No one likes a senseless villain.
God yes on the drinks. Have just discovered that Mithian’s new pet author is my receptionist, suspect whole office is plotting against me. Morgana is going to be patronizing again. Perhaps drinks not at the Rising Sun?
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Coward
Okay, fair enough on the Roland-being-a-git thing. I’m not sure about Alan’s POV, I think a lot of the charm of the book is the reader not getting both thought processes, and frankly I found it more interesting to write from Roland’s. I’ve been in Alan’s shoes too many times. Hell, everyone who’s going to read this book has probably been in those shoes too many times, pining after the probably-straight guy, so this is something new (and God only knows why he falls for Roland, sometimes it’s a mystery to me too but it did seem to work). We can talk over villain motivations too, I agree it needs some adjustment if he comes in earlier. Maybe they’ve faced off in tournaments in the past?
Your office is not plotting against you, Arthur, seriously, do you not know that they call you King Arthur in correspondence? Half these people could have jobs editing the next Great British Novel and believe me, they aren’t staying for the sex.
And sure, we can go elsewhere-pub near my flat, maybe? Gwen’s out on a date with Lancelot tonight (finally) so half your office won’t crash the party.
Although have I told you lately that I think it’s adorable how terrified of your sister you are?
From: Arthur
To: Merlin
Subject: Lies and slander
I hadn’t thought of it that way, although I do think a key scene or two-when Roland is feverish with infection, for instance, Alan’s POV would be of use-might need to be changed. However, if you do have reason I trust it. (Even if not knowing why Alan loves him sounds like a mystery. Unlike you to be coy.)
Pub near your flat sounds fine, I’ll be there sevenish, unless you need me to come drag you out of your writing stupor.
I refuse to respond to your outrageous allegations about my staff calling me anything of the sort, it would only encourage your delusions.
And I am many things, Merlin, like manly and charming and intelligent, but adorable certainly isn’t one of them.
From: Merlin
To: Arthur
Subject: Re: Lies and slander
You just keep telling yourself that.
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Part Two | Part Three