Hey all,

Another Merthur from me :D

This is the result of me procrastinating from getting ready for uni and feeling a bit ill and not wanting to do anything but sit around and be a bit lazy (and write some fluff).

The story line (author meets musician while they're both on tour and stuff ensues) I have shamelessly borrowed from the wonderful Matthew Reilly and one of his short stories. So thanks to him, [please don't sue me :)]. His writing is amazing and I definitely recommend you read his books.

As always I own nothing.

They met in a coffee shop near the hotel they were both staying in.

Merlin was sitting at a small table, scribbling away in his notebook and ignoring his mostly full and lukewarm coffee when he came in. Merlin was tuned out from everything around him, only being pulled free from the imaginary world he loved by the high pitched shriek.

Wondering what was going on, and if anyone needed help or something, Merlin's head bobbed up and his eyes swept the shop.

He was dressed in plain jeans and an old hoodie, sunglasses sitting in his blonde hair. He was standing in the line, cringing at the girls who were surrounding him, talking excitedly in high voices and those annoying text talk, hashtag whatsits as they pulled phone from their purses, forcing the guy into photos and selfies.

Merlin watched as he plastered a smile on his face, allowing the photos and suppressing flinches when more and more people joined the mob around him.

Sighing, Merlin scribbled one last thing and shut the overflowing book before shoving it in his small backpack. Shouldering his bag he picked up the coffee, grimacing at the disgusting temperature as he swallowed a mouthful before bracing himself.

Shoving his way through the crowd of preteens and fangirls he threw an arm around the blonde.

"Good to see you finally made it, mate," he said loudly as he shoved the disgusting coffee into the blonde's hand. "Come on, I ordered for you already. Mark texted, we're going to be late for the game and Maddy threatened to take us shopping again if we're late for another of her lunches."

Merlin tugged at the blonde, steering them out of the shop as he pointlessly rambled about being late and the horrors of shopping. Within a couple minutes they were out on the street and Merlin pulled the guy into a small electronics store before finally dropping his arm from around the guy.

"Sorry," he said, a blush rising up on his face. "You looked uncomfortable."

The bloke nodded once, slightly stunned.

"I'm Merlin, by the way. How about I buy you a coffee to make up for the fact that just sort of abducted you."

"Arthur," the guy finally said. "Thank you… I think."

Merlin's smile was blinding.

Arthur let the random guy who had saved him from his fans drag him halfway across the city to a tiny coffee shop where there was only one woman behind the counter and there were armchairs and bookshelves instead of plastic seats and large screens.

Merlin also, Arthur soon discovered, had absolutely no idea who he was. The entire time they walk to wherever he plans on buying Arthur a coffee Merlin keeps up an innate stream of chatter, mostly revolving around his mother and how she had instilled in him the inability to 'never leave a helpless animal on the side of the road'.

"Not that I think you're helpless or anything, but you obviously didn't want the attention and I could see that you were more than a tad uncomfortable…" Merlin rambled in earnest as they sat down with their giant mugs of steaming coffee and Arthur can't help but bring it up to his nose and inhale deeply.

"Come to think of it, why were you being mobbed?" Merlin's head is tilted just slightly to the side as he looks at Arthur in innocent curiosity.

"Just… fans, yeah…." Arthur mumbles, unwilling to ruin whatever was between him and this man he had just met who didn't know him from Greg or Bob or Daniel.

"Oh yeah," Merlin says. "Would I know of anything of yours then?"

Arthur randomly spits out the name of their latest single and Merlin's face lights up a bit.

"That's yours? I liked that one, yeah. The viola touch was brilliant. Lyrics were good too, none of that rubbish about girls and sex and drugs and money, like all the other nonsense on the radio these days."

Arthur splutters slightly but manages to ask what music Merlin likes listening too.

"Tchaikovsky. Brahms. Grieg. Dvořák. I love that grand feeling they somehow put into their composition, you know. Big, grand pieces, just that sense of epic adventure and…" Arthur can't help but notice how his Irish accent thickens as he talks so passionately about these long dead composers.

To be honest it was like telling some made-for-tv-movie-star you worshipped Frank Sinatra and Grace Kelly, but somehow Arthur couldn't find it in himself to mind because he could see that Merlin truly believed what he was saying and wasn't saying what he thought Arthur wanted to hear.

After so long of being so high up in the industry and having people suck up to him it was utterly refreshing, and that was without including the people who sucked up to him because of who his father was.

"Do you have anything out right now?" Merlin asked.

Arthur's lips twitched, their latest album had gone, almost immediately, to platinum and had been No. 1 on iTunes for the last month.

"Er, yeah."

"Well, I'll definitely buy it now that I've met you in person."

"Good to know," Arthur smiles, taking a long sip of coffee. "So what brings you to New Orleans?" Arthur finally asks because for all Merlin has talked the only things Arthur knows about him is that his name is Merlin, he (obviously) pays absolutely no attention to modern news be it celebrities or politics or absolutely anything that has to do with anything, that his mum is an angel and that he unquestionably, irrevocably loves classical music.

"Oh," Merlin flushed slightly in embarrassment. "I write books. I'm on an author tour. This is my last stop on the East Coast and then I'm jumping around the country before making my way up the West Coast and into Canada. Then back home to Ireland."

"What kind of books?"

"Fantasy," Merlin grins, his eyes lighting up in surprise as if he can't believe that someone, anyone, honestly wants to hear about his work. "Big epics. Magic and Dragons, Knights going on Quests, Battles and Wars for Kingdom and Sire, that sort of thing."

Arthur read a little, whenever he had time between recording and writing his own stuff. Maybe he'd heard of Merlin already. "Titles?" he asked.

"My first trilogy was A Dragon's Call, but The Fires of Idirsholas was what got me my big break. Eye of Phoenix is my latest though."

"Sorry," Arthur cringed slightly. "I haven't heard of them. Can't say they sound like my kind of books." His type tended to be whatever he could pick up months after starting and not be confused about what was going on because he had forgotten what happened since he had last picked it up.

Merlin just gave him a small shrug. "That's okay," he said with a comforting smile that managed to ease some of Arthur's guilt. "Different people read different books. I know what I write isn't for everyone. Some people like action, others like romance and some like mystery. Sometimes dwellers in one world are completely oblivious to the fact that other worlds even exist."

Arthur like the way Merlin talked.

He was comfortable in who he was and what he did. It was something Arthur rarely saw in his own world. All too often he saw the people around him succumb to what critics and haters said, letting the words of people they didn't even know ruin themselves and the music they loved. Arthur was lucky he and the guys (Leon, Lance and Perce) had never been driven down that path. That they had the support of amazing family and friends.

Arthur pulled his phone from his pocket when it buzzed, letting him know that he had a text. His face paled as he read it, swearing slightly before glancing at his watch.

"Is something wrong?" Merlin asked, concern blatant on his face.

"My sister. Show tonight, I'm late." Arthur manged to say in between his panic. "Should have been at the arena hours ago."

"Oh, Gods. I'm so sorry," Merlin immediately apologised. "You should have said something instead of letting me ramble on. Of course you have more important things to do than have coffee with a bleeding stranger."

Somehow Merlin's ramblings calmed Arthur's panic and in a bout in what could possibly be put down to insanity Arthur leant across the small table between them to place his hand over Merlin's mouth.

"It's fine," he said firmly. "Believe me, if I hadn't been here I would have been driving the guys up the wall with my nervous panicking. Don't be surprised if they track you down to thank you for giving them an afternoon of peace before a show."

Merlin's eyes widened slightly and Arthur removed his hand. His mouth opened before shutting again, cheeks puffing out slightly.

"Right," Merlin said. "Okay then. Ummm, good luck, for your show. Oh, no," Merlin's hands shot to his mouth in horror. "Am I not supposed to say good luck… damn it, I said it again. It's not like some theatre thing is it? Should I be saying break a leg?"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh. Head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut. It had been longer than he could remember since he had laughed like that. "It's fine," he said again when he managed to stop laughing, when Merlin had begun laughing odd hiccupping sounds it had set Arthur off again. "It was good to meet you Merlin."

"And you, Arthur."

Arthur made it to the arena just as their opening act was going on. When everyone asked (interrogated) him about where he had been Arthur just said he was been wandering around and lost track of time. A part of him couldn't believe he had been talking with Merlin for hours.

The next afternoon, while he and Perce were having lunch in the hotel restaurant, Arthur overheard a pair of young women talking at the table next to theirs. One was wearing a bright summer dress with large Doc Martins, a violin case at her feet, while the other was in black jeans and a gaming shirt that Arthur only recognised because Lance was obsessed with the game and never shut up about it.

"Everyone knows he's so young, but I never expected him to be so cute," the gamer one was saying.

"I suppose that's the odd thing about authors," Doc Martins said, waving her fork in the air. "You never know what they look like, or what they sound like."

Gamer nodded in agreement. "Anyway," she continued. "While you were busy sexting that husband of yours I heard him answering his phone with just 'Emrys' and… well, it's not like Emrys is that common a name so when he was done I just went up and asked if he was the Merlin Emrys, the author. I felt so bad because he was writing and I interrupted him but he was so nice about it. Said yes, and blushed so adorably when I said I was a massive fan. I was stammering and stuttering like an absolute fool about how I missed yesterday's signing because I was in exams all day he just pulled a spare book from his bag and gave it to me. Signed it and everything. Look!"

Gamer pulled the large hardback copy from her ratty bag and shoved it into Doc Martin's hands.

"You lucky little shit!" Doc Martin exclaimed, running a finger over what Arthur assumed was the signature. "Personalised and everything. Ugh, come we gotta go."

Arthur stopped staring at the pair from the corner of his eye and shoved a mouthful of eggs in his mouth, chewing as he thought. Thankfully Perce wasn't one for talked and was happy to read the newspaper while Arthur daydreamed and occasionally scribbled down thoughts about future songs. It was a bit of a routine of theirs. Leon did his own thing with Morgana (his wife, their manager and Arthur's sister), Perce and Arthur had breakfast sometime before three in the afternoon if they were lucky before joining Lance and Leon who would have woken up hours earlier.

What struck Arthur the most was that they had been women talking. When he'd been talking to Merlin the day before his novels had sounded like bloke's books, he'd somewhat immediately dismissed them as the sort of thing those nerdy, LOPEING or LAPPING type guys read. And, if Arthur was being honest with himself Merlin had looked more like a pre-school teacher or something in his pressed pants and cardigan.

It wasn't until a couple days later, when they were finally leaving New Orleans that Arthur heard about Merlin (not that it wasn't to say he hadn't been thinking about the ridiculous looking author almost constantly since he had saved Arthur from the band's groupies).

He had snuck away from their late breakfast and had overheard two guys from the small-time-but-making-it-big band that were their opening act for most of the America part of their tour talking.

"Did you hear about that writer that was staying here?" the first asked, Arthur was about 90 percent sure his name was Adam.

"Oh, yeah. What about him?" the girl he was talking to said, repositioning the cases she was carrying.

"Young guy from the UK," probably-Adam said and Arthur frowned, slowing down and pulling his phone out to fiddle with while he eavesdropped.

"Clint is obsessed with his books," probably-Adam continued. "Never stops raving about them, I've already got the last book of his latest series pre-ordered for his birthday. He's just signed a new deal for another couple series, couple million or something, so it should be coming out soon. Of course, Clint's even more excited about the fact that the movie version of one of his trilogies is coming out soon. The Curse of… someone or another, one of those complicated made up names. Sold it to Universal for a freaking fortune and starring Leonardo Di Caprio and that hot bloke everyone says should play young Sirius Black... I'm pretty sure he was in that Damian Gray movie we had to watch our Senior year…"

"Ben Barnes?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, him," probably-Adam said, clinking his fingers as he fixed his jacket. "I gotta be prepared though, word is he's paralleling us on his own tour and Clint will kill me deader than dead if he finds out I met him and didn't get an autograph for him."

The girl sniggered a laugh as probably-Adam grimaced. Arthur shook his head in confusion and continued up to the room he was sharing with Perce to get another couple hours sleep before they had to head off for the airport.

The next couple months were a blur of hotel rooms, stages and studios. Morgana had very efficiently booked them for a number of quick live studio performances and interviews on tv and radio to further promote their latest album and the tour.

For Arthur, the one think he couldn't help but notice was that in every airport they went through, in almost every book stall and shop near the gates to give some last minute entertainment options, was Merlin Emrys' name, plastered on his books.

They were everywhere Arthur noticed, constantly seeing his name over and over and over again until he was practically obsessing over how he had missed it before.

Different people, different worlds, he thought.

In the rare quiet moments he had between his perfectly planned out days Arthur found himself remembering the odd morning and part afternoon he had spent in the homey coffee shop, thinking about the intense blue of Merlin's eyes that lit in passion, the wide, carefree smile and ridiculously large ears.

Somewhere around Salt Lake City he gave in and escaped from the group to quickly duck into one of the airport stores to grab a copy of A Dragon's Call. He was pleasantly surprised, after absolutely demolishing all three parts, to find that he had really enjoyed it.

It wasn't his usual read, probably the farthest thing from it. But he loved it. The story was complex enough to warrant its length with enough twists and turns to keep it interesting but at the same time it was easy enough to follow without Arthur doing his head in trying to keep it all straight. He loved some of the characters and was flummoxed as to how someone could come up with such an amazing universe just with their imagination.

Unfortunately, his not-so-secret secret was up in Phoenix when, ironically enough, Leon found his brand new copy of The Crystal Cave, the first in the Eye of Phoenix tetralogy.

Their paths crossed again almost a week later in San Francisco. And although they were staying in same hotel again, Arthur and Merlin themselves didn't actually meet.

It was one of probably-Adam's bandmates, another girl, who was coming back from her morning run, who bumped into him.

Grabbing a bottle of water she collapsed into a chair in the less formal of the two restaurants, breathing heavily as she pressed the chilled bottle to her forehead.

Indulging in a spot of people-watching as she sipped at the cool liquid she spotted him ignoring his breakfast in favour or rapidly writing something as he bobbed his head to whatever he was listening to.

"Uhhh, hi there," she said, tapping him on the shoulder.

Merlin held up a hand as if to say 'gimme a sec' without stopping his mad scrawl and after a couple moments he dropped his pen and took the headphones out of his ears.

"Hi," he said. "Can I help?"

"You're Merlin Emrys, aren't you?" she asked tentatively.

Merlin blinked in surprise, it wasn't often he was recognised and normally it was only after someone had seen or heard his name before they put it together, only a rare handful of people had recognised him just by looking at him.

It certainly garnered his attention and he nodded at the empty seat on the other side of his small table.

"I'm Freya," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Freya. You obviously already know I'm Merlin."

Freya turned out to be quite sweet and caring and absolutely clumsy in the same way he was. She smiled at everyone and gushed embarrassingly about how in one of her Literature Courses they had studied The Fires of Idirsholas, and how it was claimed to be the next Lord of the Rings.

He listened politely for almost a half hour before having to excuse himself to get ready for another interview on a local radio station.

At the next stop on their tour, there was a large package waiting for Freya. Two sets of all the Merlin Emrys' books out at the moment, signed, and a note wishing Freya and her band the best of luck on their tour.

Probably-Adam, whose real name was Will finally kissed Freya when she handed over the set signed 'To Clint'.

On the train to Portland he saw the latest edition of Rolling Stones magazine. The cover was a full-page black and white photo of a man the headline 'Death of a King'.

Out of curiosity about the man that looked like an older Arthur he picked it up and read it when he hand cramped up so painfully he had to stop writing.

Apparently Uther Pendragon, owner and founder of Dragon Records, had passed away a week earlier leaving his entire fortune and legacy to his two children; Arthur and Morgana. The scandal was that Arthur's uncle on his late mum's side (not Morgana's uncle, though, because they were only half siblings through Uther) was trying to claim the company for himself through less than legal means.

Merlin shuddered in confusion, Arthur's world was weird.

He hoped Arthur was okay.

A few nights later, in the early hours of the morning, they came across each other again.

Technically Arthur found Merlin this time. The weight of his father's death and Agravaine's betrayal had been weighing heavily on Arthur an after a couple hours of lying in his hotel bed, listening to Perce breath, he had gotten up, blindly chucked on a pair of jeans and a hoodie (probably Perce's by the way it hung loosely on his frame; he wasn't a skinny twig or anything, it was just that Perce was built like a veritable mountain), before slipping from the room.

Arthur was thinking about taking a night-time stroll along the river when he spotted Merlin sitting in a booth of the 24-hour hotel restaurant, intensely writing in his notebook while listening to something on his iPod. A childish smile tugging on his lips, Arthur changed direction and grabbed two plates of cake (one chocolate mud the other a lemon cheesecake) before moving to stand at the entrance to the booth.

He moved slightly so his shadow fell across Merlin's book. Merlin looked up, jumping slightly and a wide grin spread on his face when he realised it was Arthur.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked. "I bring cake," he added.

Merlin's grin widened as he shoved the pair of hideously pink glasses perched on his nose to rest in his shaggy hair.

"I bought your albums," Merlin says, exceedingly proud, sometime later when they're on their second plates of desert.

"What did you thing?" Arthur asks, swallowing thickly. For some reason he just can't put his finger on Merlin's opinion really matter to him and if he hasn't like any of their Arthur feels he might be crushed.

"It was… different, yeah. But I quite liked them. Not what I usually listen to, punk music, but then again I mostly listen to music that's centuries old. I think the four part harmonies were a stroke of genius, you don't get much music these days like that. And the lyrics, I looked them up, whoever writes them is very talented."

Arthur flushed slightly. "Thanks. I bought your books."

"And?" Merlin's lips clenched around the fork in his mouth.

"Loved them," Arthur admitted. "The Fires was pretty good and I'm only a bit into Eye of Phoenix but Dragon's Call is definitely my favourite."

Merlin bounced where he sat. "Yeah?" he said with a lopsided smile.

"Yeah, I think Aithusa is my favourite character, also Kilgharrah… but I think that's mostly because he's a snarky little bastard."

Merlin gave a chocking laugh and Arthur reached other the table to pound on his back. "I'm glad you liked them," he said, still coughing slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me you're just about the most famous author around right now?" Arthur asked quietly.

Merlin gave him a confused look. "I'm not famous, authors are never famous. You're famous," he made the distinction with a clumsy flourish of his fork.

"But why didn't you tell me?" Arthur persisted.

"Would it have made a difference?"

"I don't know, it might have."

"Then that's why. It shouldn't make a difference, but it does to some people."

"But I'm not that sort of person."

"No. No, you most certainly are not." Merlin said decidedly before pausing, he wasn't sure how to say it. "I heard about your father."

Arthur curled in on himself just a tiny bit. "Oh. Right. That."

"Hey," Arthur looked up when Merlin's hand curled over his own. "Are you okay?"

Arthur opened his mouth before shutting it again, thinking everything that had happened since his father had died over. It wasn't that people hadn't worried about him, they had. But Leon had Morgana to deal with as well and neither Perce nor Lance, despite them all having been friends for years, were not good at the whole emotions thing.

But somehow, sitting here in the middle of the night over multiple plates of desert, with Merlin looking at him with those large, concerned blue eyes; not concerned for Arthur a member of a band or the heir to a fortune and immense legacy, but for Arthur a son who had just lost his father.

"Yeah," he said finally, slowly. "Yeah, I think I am, or at least I will be."

They talked for hours, periodically one of them got up to grab another plate or two and some water or coffee, and solely they moved closer to each other around the circular booth until they were sitting right next to each other.

"I need to confess something," Arthur blurted out as they demolished a bowl warm, sticky chocolate pudding.

"Oh god, you're a serial killer aren't you?" Merlin asked.

"What!?" Arthur yelped. "No. No, I'm not a bleeding serial killer, Merlin."

"Oh, then what?"

"I… ummm, there's a bit in The Lady of the Lake, where Bohrs and Owain are talking. And I… Imayhavewrittenitintoasongortwo."

"Ehhh, what?"

"Two songs. On our next album. Are called. Strawberry Lakes and Wildflower Fields. Because of your damned book." Arthur ground out, his face growing bright read.

Merlin stared at Arthur for a moment. And then started laughing.

"What? Are you laughing at me?" Arthur said, indignation in his voice. "Merlin. Merlin, stop laughing at me. It's not funny, I've been bloody terrified you'd be mad or sue me or something."

"No, it's…" Merlin hiccupped as he tried to stop laughing.

Eventually he rubbed at his eyes, wiping away the tears that had gathered there. "'m not laughing at you, it's just…" Merlin sniggered slightly.

"I got asked, a couple weeks before we met, to write a novella for some children's charity," he managed to finally say, wiping the last of the tears off his face. "And I couldn't think of a single thing to write, nothing anything at bloody all. Until I listened to your album... EmptyVessel…"

"I was… inspired…" he gestured at the book he had been scribbling in, eyes lighting up in excitement. "I've almost finished the entire thing."

"Oh…" Arthur said in realisation. "Ohhhhh."

"Yeah," Merlin managed to get out before they both dissolved into laughter.

By the time morning came around properly, with the sun up and breakfast being laid out and everything, both men were more than a bit bleary eyed and hyped up on too much coffee.

Both Leon and Lance came down to find breakfast together (the former mysteriously missing his, arguably, better half), only to discover the two fighting over the last piece of apple pie.

Arthur distractedly waved a hand at them, muttering their names for Merlin. Merlin, in turn, flashed them a quick grin and a mumbled, "nice to meet you."

Both men sat down, perplexed looks on their faces as Arthur waved his spoon in Merlin's face.

"Are you threatening me with a spoon?" Merlin spluttered.

Arthur answered by bonking the spoon against Merlin's nose, Merlin retaliated by snatching up the plate and sliding along the curved seat until he bumped into Lance. "Bugger," he muttered, realising he was trapped between Lance and Arthur.

Arthur crowed in triumph until he realised that Merlin had only left him a large chunk of pastry and little apple.

Before long they were joined by Perce and Morgana who stopped to drop Morgana's purse in the booth before heading to get their breakfast.

Merlin grinned sheepishly when his phone started ringing and all three men at the table looked at him in surprise as they recognised the tune. "Sorry, gotta take this," he said, reading the name on the screen.

His nose scrunched up in confusion as he listened to whomever was talking on the other end.

"What… Gwen, what do you mean I'm late? I'm not late… no I'm not…" Grabbing Arthur's arm he manipulated it around until he could read the watch around his wrist. "Okay, yes, I am late…" he amended guiltily, poking at Arthur to move so he could get out.

"Oh gods, Gwen… no, I have not been shagging…" he hissed, his face growing red while Arthur sniggered. "Fine, yes. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Sorry," he winced at Arthur. "I gotta go. Gwen's gonna kill me."

"Your girlfriend?" Leon asked politely.

Merlin grimaced. "Gods no, don't be disgusting. Best friend… sort of my sister. I gotta go," he said again, still dithering as he stood next to the table.

"Go then," Arthur said, poking Merlin's stomach.

"Right, yes." Arthur watched as Merlin disappeared from view before turning back to the chunk of pastry on the plate with a saddened pout on his face.

"Alright. No. Sorry." Arthur looked up again as Merlin ran back across the empty restaurant, bypassing Morgana and Perce who were almost at the booth. "I couldn't leave," Merlin puffed slightly, drawing to a halt next to Arthur. "Not without doing this first…"

Hands flying to Arthur's face, Merlin leant over him and crushed their lips together.

Arthur's head was bent up at an awkward angle and Merlin's bag was slipping from his shoulder to thump against Arthur's side, taking the sleeve of his brown cardigan with it. Both their lips were chapped and dry, tasting like sugar and coffee and hints of all the various deserts they had eaten and fought over. It was messy and clumsy and completely ridiculous. But when they finally parted they were both breathless and grinning, and Arthur only wanted more.

"I've been wanting to do that since New Orleans," Merlin whispered. "I really gotta go…"

"You busy tonight?" Arthur asked, hands still wrapped around Merlin's arms, holding him in place.

Merlin shook his head.

"Dinner? With me…" Arthur stuttered. "Have… have dinner with me."

They had dinner that night. And the next night. And the next.

And every night they were both in Portland. On the nights when one or both of them were busy whoever got to hotel first waited for the other in 'their' booth, ready with cake and coffee.

They texted to the point where Morgana and Gwen were confiscating their phones so they would do something, anything, else.

When Arthur reached Edmonton there was a package waiting for him at the concierge. After the concert that night Arthur sat up at a nearby all-night café and read the manuscript from cover to cover over too much pie. He may or may not have cried and when he got back the hotel some hours after sunrise he told everyone it was just rain, no one bother to correct him that it hadn't rained anywhere they had been in weeks.

When Merlin reached Montreal Arthur was waiting in his hotel room with waffles soaked in maple syrup. This time when Gwen called him about being late for a radio interview he couldn't say he hadn't been shagging.

When the latest piece by best-selling author Merlin Emrys came out, a novella called A Hollow Queen's Heart, it went straight to No. 1 on the New York Times Bestseller (and many other similar lists).

When Arthur 'accidentally' outed them it was during his acceptance speech for Best Songwriter of the Year. The band had already won a number of awards so when Arthur went up it was short and sweet. "I've, uhh… Me and the guys have been up here a couple time tonight so I'll be quick, yeah. As a band we've thanked a lot of people, but there's one person I haven't mentioned yet. So this one's for you, Merlin. You can rescue me any time you like, love."

Arthur came as Merlin's date to the premier of The Curse of Cornelius Sigan. And to the premiers of The Lady of the Lake and The Dreams of a Witchfinder.

It was a big thing, the most eligible bachelor going off the market, but after not very long no one really cared about a relationship between a music star and an author. They lived in different worlds, were followed by different people and had largely different fan bases (both of which 'shipped' their relationship to the point of terrifying). Punk music and fantasy novels would never be part of the same world.

Their groups of friends combined. Gwen and Lance became sickeningly sweet while Gwaine (Merlin's best friend) and Perce became as thick as thieves. Morgana and Gwen adored each other as the sister neither ever had and Hunith sort of adopted them all.

Almost four years after their initial meeting, while they were touring the world again, they snuck of while in Vegas and got married while dressed up as a Knight (Arthur) and a Punk musician (Merlin) in a small chapel with an Elvis-impersonator priest.

They released the information to the world (minus Hunith and their friends) through the dedication in Merlin's latest book. It was the last book in The Dark Tower's Vengeance trilogy, called A Death Song, the dedication read;

For Arthur
We're different people living in different worlds,
But sometimes those worlds collide.
You are my Owain and I am your Bohrs.
Once and Future,
Forever.

They may or may not have spurred on their, somewhat terrifying, fans by posting a few select photos and, god forbid they admit it, selfies from the wedding on twitter and Instagram and Pinterest and Tumblr.

Well, hope you liked it.

A few things to clarify. In case you didn't notice all of Merlin's books and the series' names came from Merlin episodes, as were Arthur and the band's song and album titles. The conversation Arthur mentioned between Owain and Bohrs runs along the lines of Merlin and Freya's conversation the episode The Lady of the Lake. Also, I'm not sure how clear I made it, but in Merlin's book Owain and Bohrs were lovers/married, so that's what the dedication means. If anything else doesn't make sense feel free to ask. Sorry if it's all a bit confusing.

-Nita