Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Thank you all so much for coming out tonight, and for being such an amazing audience!” Freya shouted at the assembled crowd, who cheered back in appreciation as she turned to the rest of the band and beckoned them to the front of the stage.

Merlin and the rest of Ambrosia joined her in the spotlight, where they gave one last bow to their audience and smiled broadly as hundreds of camera flashes lit up the stage.

“Thank you again, and good night!” Freya shouted after they’d posed for the photos for a long moment, and together the band made their way backstage, tired and rather sweaty, but pleased with their performance.

“That was a great one,” Will said once they were safely off the stage. He clapped Merlin on the back and twirled a drumstick in his other hand. “The violin was a killer tonight, Merls.”

“Thanks,” Merlin grinned, grabbing the instrument off a side table and beginning to pack it away carefully. “The energy was great, wasn’t it?”

“Sure was,” Tristan said as he packed up his bass across the room. “I love those types of audience. Makes you feel alive.”

“As opposed to...?” Isolde joked as she shouldered her own guitar case and brushed some stray hair out of her eyes.

Merlin smiled as his band continued to banter as they packed away their instruments and various cables. Freya helped Mordred carry his keyboard out of the room and down to corridor to the loading bay, and Merlin helped Will and the stage crew with some of the heavier drums. They were well practiced at this by now, setting up and pulling down after every show on their tour, along with the four other bands who had played alongside them. The other bands were already likely in the loading bay winding down before they set off to their next location, which gave Ambrosia enough space to clear up without getting in each other’s way.

Merlin was helping Tristan hunt for a missing cable when a hand clapped him on the back, making him jump.

“Gaius!”

His uncle chucked before pulling his nephew in for a quick embrace.

“Excellent show as always, Merlin,” he said, still smiling. “The new violin sounds fantastic through that amplifier. And your singing was as good as always, of course.”

“Thanks, it plays really well,” Merlin said, looking over at the case that housed his new instrument. It was a beautiful violin, from what he could see of it anyway.

“He let me pick out the colours,” Freya said offhandedly as she and Will headed past them towards the exit. “I think I did a good job, right, Gaius?”

“Certainly,” his uncle agreed as the pair of them disappeared towards the loading bay, very kindly choosing to ignore the pained look that flashed across Merlin’s face at the mention of colour.

Merlin’s world had been greyscale for his entire life. Everyone started out that way, until you met your soulmate and the colours around you materialised and you were supposed to live happily ever after, or so everyone said. Except Merlin, who saw hundreds of new people every show and had been all around the world on tours, was still yet to find the person that would turn his world bright.

One by one he had stood and watched as his friends and his band members got their colours, most recently Mordred, who had met Kara on their last tour and been pretty much inseparable from her ever since. He was happy for them, of course, but it didn’t change the fact that he was close to thirty and still had to rely on his friends to tell him if an outfit looked good or not.

Tours could sometimes cause problems for him too, as when the band were looking at lighting and staging for their performances he couldn’t offer a shred of input and had to sit there feeling like a spare part. He didn’t even know what their logo looked like in colour. All he knew about the new violin was that it was black with blue highlights, which just looked like dark grey and really dark grey to him.

Gaius seemed to sense Merlin’s sudden change in mood, as he didn’t say anything to his hastily mumbled excuse about checking his dressing room one last time and let him head down the corridor away from the bustle of a well-prepared crew finishing packing down another venue.

He slipped inside the room with his name scrawled on the door and closed it behind him with a sigh. The adrenaline of a great performance had worn off, leaving him tired and ready for a shower and sleep. He was still dressed in his stage clothes, apparently black jeans and a simple green top with combat boots, not that he would know the difference if Freya put him in the most vile outfit known to man. The dressing room was basic, a few posters on the wall, a mirror with lights around it and a chair which had seen better days. Merlin sat heavily in it, staring into the mirror in annoyance.

It was normally easy to brush off his greyscale existence, but there were times where the reality seemed to smack him in the face, and he remembered that he was missing out on spending time with the person who was supposed to mean the most to him. He’d spent much of his younger years fantasising about who it would be, what would they look like, where would they come from, but as he’d got older and focussed on his music more he’d spent less time thinking about it.

He sat staring at the greys reflected in the mirror for a few minutes before there was a gentle knock on the door.

“Merlin?” Freya’s voice floated through the plywood. “We’re done packing down, are you joining us outside?”

“Just a second,” Merlin said, pushing the dismal thoughts from his mind again as he stood and ran a hand through his hair. He’d have to shower on the bus again.

He opened the door to Freya’s smiling face. She had an open beer bottle in her hand and as he closed the door behind him she held out a fresh one to him.

“Thanks,” he said, taking it from her as they headed down the corridor and out into the cool night air.

The five bands and their crew members were casually grouped together on the tarmac by their tour buses. It had become somewhat of a ritual on this tour to share a drink after the show before they set off to their next destination, nothing crazy that could impede their performances, just a little relief from the full-on energy of their shows. There was the usual quiet buzz as Merlin and Freya made their way over to their band mates, waving at the faces that had become familiar to them over the last few weeks.

“Great last set there, guys,” Nimueh, the bass guitarist of the band Blessed Isle, said as they walked by. “Loved the energy.”

“Thank you so much, Nim,” Freya replied, and she got caught in further conversation with the dark-haired guitarist leaving Merlin to meander over to Ambrosia, exchanging pleasantries and compliments with the other performers as he did.

Will was sat on the steps of their bus, beer in hand, showing something to Tristan and Mordred on his phone, their laughter carrying over the rest of the gathering with ease. Isolde was in conversation with Kara, the younger woman congratulating her on her guitar performance and combing through the finer points with her.

“Budge up,” Merlin said, toeing Will to the side of the steps so he could sit down.

“There he is,” Will said, throwing an arm around Merlin’s shoulders. “Thought you’d done a runner on us you were gone that long!”

“Couldn’t get rid of me that easily,” Merlin grinned, poking Will good-naturedly in the side.

“Especially as we’re finally doing a home show next,” Mordred said, smiling wistfully. “It’s been ages since we’ve performed there.”

“We’re doing Camelot already?” Will said in surprise. “I must have lost a few days.”

“Evidently,” Tristan said, rolling his eyes at the drummer, who flipped him off while laughing.

“It’ll be good to be back,” Merlin said, thinking of the visit to his mother he had planned for the following day. “Shame we’re not staying though.”

“Yeah, but only a few more shows to go,” Tristan said, leaning against the bus and taking a long drink. “Then we can take some time to ourselves before heading back to the studio again.”

Merlin nodded, smiling at the thought of getting to work on some new music again with his band.

The group spent the rest of their wind down dissecting the show they’d just performed, finalising their set list for the following night’s show, and chatting with the rest of the bands. By the time Merlin climbed onto the tour bus with the others he was feeling much better than he had done at the end of the show, content to look out of the window at the passing landscape as the others discussed the pyrotechnic set up for their biggest show of the tour.

The dark greys of the buildings slowly gave way to fields and hills as they left the city behind them, and Merlin nodded off to the sound of his friends chatting excitedly about colours he could only hope to see one day.

===

“Which one?” Freya mumbled to herself, looking in the mirror and holding up two dresses pensively.

Merlin looked up from the sofa in her dressing room where he’d been sat for the last half hour as she did her stage make up. They always got ready together before a show otherwise Merlin would, as she put it, commit a sin and wear clashing colours on stage and ruin their image.

“How about the grey one?” he responded, amusement creeping into his voice.

Freya turned and glared at him playfully.

“Very helpful as always, Merlin,” she said, looking back at the mirror. Both of the dresses looked almost identical to Merlin’s eyes, they were both grey, both had artful rips in them, and he was almost convinced they were actually duplicates of each other.

“You asked,” he replied.

Freya eventually seemed to decide on a dress, folding the other one neatly before packing it away and looking at Merlin.

“Right then,” she said, looking him up and down. “This is Camelot we’re playing, so you’ve got to go all out tonight.”

Melin shrugged and gestured to his suitcase next to him.

“Have at it,” he said, surrendering himself to her superior fashion sense.

The band had had a great time back in Camelot that day, having arrived in the early hours of the morning and catching a bit of sleep on the bus before heading out once the sun was properly up. Merlin had gone to visit his mother who lived on the outskirts of the city, and they’d spent an enjoyable few hours catching up with the promise of him coming to stay with her once their current tour was over.

Then he’d returned to the bus which was parked outside the venue, where the band had devoured pizza from their favourite local takeaway before heading inside to complete their sound checks and get ready for the concert. Ambrosia was the headline act for the tour, so they had a little longer than the rest of the bands as they were performing last. Merlin could hear the opening chords of Witchfinder’s first song reverberate dully through the walls as Freya rifled through his clothes, humming and frowning as she did so.

“Sounds like a large crowd,” she said, critically holding up some jeans as said crowd’s shouts echoed through the building. She put the jeans back.

“Hurry up, we’ve only got four band sets before we need to be ready,” Merlin joked as she scrutinised a shirt that had clearly offended her in some way. Freya glared at him.

“Style takes time, Merlin,” she said. “I’m saving you from a PR disaster.”

“Whatever you say, Freya. I don’t know how Will is able to live with you sometimes,” Merlin said with amusement, leaning back and closing his eyes. He had a feeling he would be there for a while.

Witchfinder had finished their set to tumultuous applause by the time Freya had picked out his outfit.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she said, surveying his handywork.

Merlin didn’t bother to check what he was wearing as he finished zipping up the combat boots he’d worn the night before. He struggled to pick out different grey shades on clothes anyway, and he trusted Freya enough to choose the right outfit by now that he didn’t need to double check. As far as he could tell he was wearing dark jeans and a dark top with the sleeves rolled up that ‘went well with his eyes’.

“Thank you as always, my lady,” he said instead, mock bowing as she laughed at him.

“You’re very welcome,” she said, turning towards the mirror and pulling out her make up bag. “Now let’s sort that hair and face out, shall we?”

Blessed Isle, the second band, had almost finished their set before Merlin was finally allowed to leave Freya’s dressing room and retreat to his own. She’d done his hair and outlined his eyes, (‘They’re so pretty they need highlighting!’), and she’d begrudgingly allowed him to wear his faded leather bracelets he’d bought from a gift shop when they’d performed in an old castle in France last year (‘I suppose they add a certain rugged charm to the outfit...’).

He tuned his violin quietly in his dressing room, the amp just loud enough for him to hear over the opening song of Forest of Darklings, the third band in the lineup. Then after a final check of his appearance he carefully carried the instrument to the small side room off the edge of the stage to store it for use in their performance.

He joined Will, Tristan and Mordred at the side of the stage where they were waiting patiently for their turn to play. They were all dressed in their stage outfits which from what Merlin could tell involved a lot of dark, flowy material from Mordred and dark, slightly tighter material from the other two. Their position afforded a good view of the stage while keeping them out of the way as Ashkanar, the fourth band, did their final warmups in the wings. Merlin caught the eye of their lead singer, Julius, and sent him a thumbs up which the man returned with a smile.

Forest of Darklings left the stage to loud applause and shouts from the audience, which had got much bigger since the start of the show. Freya and Isolde, both finally dressed in their stage outfits too, joined them as Daegal, Sefa and the rest of Forest of Darklings appeared, out of breath and smiling.

“Bloody wild crowd,” Daegal gasped as he gratefully took a bottle of water from one of the crew. “It’s mad out there!”

“You sounded great,” Tristan praised, clapping Daegal on the back.

“Thanks,” Daegal said, smiling as Sefa grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the way, giving a quick wave as the band headed down the corridor to their dressing rooms.

“It’s a very large crowd,” Isolde said, having risked a quick reconnaissance to the side of the stage and a peek around the curtain as the stage crew quickly set up for Ashkanar’s set. “Biggest one on this tour, I’d say.”

“Excellent,” Freya said happily, clapping her hands in excitement. “Shall we do final checks?”

Merlin nodded as Ashkanar finally headed out onto the stage to a roar of welcome from the amassed fans. Tristan and Isolde went over some last-minute chord progressions together while Mordred checked over one of the harder sections of keyboard music one last time. Will, unable to practice drums, simply sat and watched Ashkanar’s set from the wings as Freya and Merlin warmed up their voices and ran a couple of quick harmonies.

Then there wasn’t much else to do after that except sit and wait. It was the waiting that always got Merlin. He knew his nerves would disappear as soon as he started singing their first song but until that point his palms sweated and he struggled to control the hitches in his breathing.

“We’ve got this,” Freya whispered to him as Ashkanar finished their final song to thunderous applause. “We always do.”

“I know,” Merlin said, smiling at his friend. “I’ll be fine.”

And then a few short minutes later the lights were dimmed and they were being announced and led onto the stage in near-total darkness. Merlin handed his violin to a stagehand who would provide it when required, then stepped out into the vast room which was only illuminated by a few phone screens and faint lights around the stage itself. A hush had fallen across the hall as Merlin took up his position in front of his microphone, and he grabbed it reflexively in the darkness, resisting the urge to wipe his hands on his jeans.

He took a deep, calming breath, and closed his eyes.

Behind him, Will commanded the room with a single, powerful bass drum beat that caused the whispered chatter to die out instantly. He followed it with another one, and then Isolde played the first familiar notes of their first song, letting the short phrase die off and silence reign for a second.

Then Ambrosia began to play.

The lights and pyrotechnics around the stage flared aggressively as their first proper notes filled the air, and Merlin could see the white flashes through his closed eyelids. He opened them as the initial dazzle died down leaving the grey flames to spark between the stage and the crowd. Will, Mordred and the guitarists brought the short introduction to a close as the audience erupted in front of them, and Merlin took a deep breath. The fires in front of him died down as he and Freya began to sing the first verse, nerves leaving him as suddenly as they’d arrived.

Their first song was one of his favourites, simply entitled ‘Seiðr’, or ‘Magic’. He had written the verses while Freya had helped him on the chorus, and it told old folklore stories that he’d been fascinated with since he was a child. Merlin sang, as he always did, staring at the very top row of the hall where it almost met the ceiling. He found it helped him concentrate on how the words sounded and allowed him to block out any distractions around him.

He and Freya wound their way through the song together, swapping harmonies and melodies like they had a hundred times before as the rest of their band provided a complex, fast-paced backing track for them to sing with. The other bands had been right, the crowd was very responsive, and Merlin heard his lyrics shouted back at him from hundreds if not thousands of people.

He let a smile onto his face as he sang, allowing the thrum of the music they were making to take over, only remaining grounded by the grip he had on the microphone stand in front of him. This, he never tired of this, performing songs that had come from his heart to crowds who loved them as much as he did.

They ended their first song to a wave of cheers and applause, and he finally allowed himself to look away from the balcony at the massive audience gathered below. His eyes swept across the amassed fans, and he was slightly overwhelmed with just how many people had made the journey to see them.

“Good evening, Camelot,” Freya shouted once the applause had died down a little. “Thank you so much for being here to support Ambrosia and all of the other bands!”

Their audience cheered again, and Merlin smiled as Freya continued.

“We’re so grateful for all the love you’ve shown us, and can’t wait to share what we’ve been working on,” she said. Tristan winked at Merlin from across the stage and Merlin grinned back. “As many of you know,” Freya continued, “We’ve only been together for a couple of years, and we’ve been overwhelmed by the welcome we’ve received since then.”

She turned to Merlin who, as they’d practiced, reached for his microphone as the crowd cheered again.

“Are you guys ready for our next song?” he asked, revelling in the shouts of assent he received in return.

“This one is a new song inspired by the famous warlock, Merlin,” he continued, resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he smiled. “My parents assure me he is not my namesake, but I’m not entirely convinced even now.”

The laughter from the audience echoed across the hall as he stepped back and nodded to Will who laid down the drum beat to the song, quickly followed by Tristan, Isolde and Mordred joining in to form the groundwork of the piece. Merlin fixed his eyes on the balcony again and together he and Freya told more of the ancient folklore he loved, this time of the Arthurian legend and the warlock who stood by his king’s side until he died. Merlin was especially proud of this song, having written it in the depths of the night during one of their long bus journeys on their last tour when he was suffering from a chronic lack of sleep and Mordred had just got his colours, joining Tristan and Isolde, and Will and Freya and leaving Merlin to be the odd one out.

As they’d planned, the song merged into one of their most popular ones without a break, and together he and Freya traded verses of ‘Önd’, or ‘Soul’, which had a philosophic spin on their usual folklore works. It was always a hit, and Merlin’s words were once again reflected back at him as the crowd sang alongside him enthusiastically. He was pretty sure he caught someone crowd surfing out of the corner of his eye.

They paused after their third song, and Merlin dashed off stage to grab his violin from the stagehand, quickly checking the microphone was attached right before returning to where Freya had just introduced the other members of Ambrosia to the audience.

“This one is a little slower,” Merlin said once she’d finished, violin held loosely at his side, “But someone told me you guys like some of our more spiritual stuff.”

He swallowed down the residual nerves as Freya moved away from her microphone and Merlin was left alone in the centre of the stage. He knew the words and the notes of the song inside out, but there was always something about this one that made him nervous. It was perhaps the best song he’d written to date, and included a very exposed violin solo that, despite having played it hundreds of times, he was worried about messing up.

He closed his eyes as Tristan and Will provided the slow, lazy introduction to ‘Avalon’, letting the low bass line wash over him as it was joined by Isolde’s guitar a few bars later. He opened his eyes as he began to sing, solo this time, violin held gently at his side as some of the crowd joined in the haunting melody he was weaving. Freya joined him after the first verse and once again his nerves disappeared as she added her voice to the mix and then took over the chorus.

Merlin shouldered his violin as Freya reached the end of the chorus, hearing the rest of the band get quieter as he felt the familiar wood of the instrument under his fingers. He raised the bow, adjusted his position slightly, then closed his eyes and began to play.

He had always loved the grace of the violin, begged his mother to let him learn and diligently squeaked his way through the early years of practice until he was able to play competently. He’d kept it up as he’d got older, and even after becoming a singer and composer he’d always looked for ways to show off the instrument in different musical genres. Here he played in a way that would make classical violinists faint; he treated the instrument like a living, breathing animal, its music flowing and fluid as he slid up and down the strings, creating glissandos and disregarding the key signatures he’d spent years having to learn. The effect fit perfectly with the haunting, spiritual melody the song was based on, and as he played he treated the wood and strings as an extension of himself, letting its voice fill the crowded hall and tell a story without any words.

Freya sang along with him after a few bars, Merlin harmonizing with her and letting the violin duck in and out of the other parts, keeping time with the lazy drum beat and letting Freya take centre stage to bring the story of Avalon to its conclusion.

At the end of the song, right at the end of his final sustained note, Merlin opened his eyes, blinking slightly under the bright lights as his eyes focussed on the front row of the audience.

And then he saw him.

He was right there, in the front row, staring straight at him.

Merlin froze, his bow still on the strings, the note still echoing around the vast room that seemed to have stopped in time around him. The man was leaning against the barrier, gaze fixated on Merlin, and even in greyscale he was the most breathtaking person Merlin had ever had the good fortune to lay eyes on.

Merlin’s eyes widened as the frozen moment went on longer than it should have; it felt like seconds turned into years as his final note still reverberated in his ears. The man had light hair and wore a tight-fitting t-shirt with a jumper tied around his waist, and right now he had a look of pure dumbstruck awe on his face as their gazes stayed locked. Merlin felt a sudden, almost violent pull towards the stranger and he had to brace himself against the feeling. Surely, surely the world was about to burst into the vibrant colours he’d heard about from so many of his friends.

Then the moment passed, and the cheering of the crowd roared in his ears as though from a great distance as time started again. He felt Freya’s hand grab his arm as he was pulled into a bow, his eye contact with the man in the front row broken almost painfully. The world blurred a little as he stood straight again, dimly remembering he needed to ditch his violin for the next song. As though in a trance he forced his feet to the side of the stage, staring down at the instrument and willing, no, begging for it to show its colours to him.

It didn’t.

With shaking hands Merlin handed over the violin to the stagehand who gave him a concerned look and offered him a bottle of water which he gladly took a few quick gulps from.

“Thank you,” he said, unsurprised to hear the shake in his voice. He took a few deep, calming breaths which seemed to help as his brain finally caught up to his actions. He hadn’t found his soulmate in the front row, it was just a really (really) hot guy that had taken him by surprise. He wasn’t getting his colours, and there were over a thousand people out there that needed him to sing right now without sounding like he was about to cry. Merlin ran a hand through his hair quickly as he clenched his jaw and returned to the stage, arranging a smile on his face as he did so.

He made it to the front of the stage, hands fiddling with the worn leather around his wrists as he tried (and failed) to stop his eyes from drifting to the stranger. The man was managing to stand without relying on the barrier, just, seemingly oblivious to his friends who were shouting in excitement as Ambrosia began to play their next song.

Merlin remembered dimly that he needed to sing now, and it was only the sheer amount of practice the band did that allowed him to sing the words to ‘Excalibur’ as they had done hundreds of times before. He felt sluggish as he sang, felt the music rise and overwhelm him as his mind raced. The pyrotechnic set up in front of him blazed as they reached the chorus, the grey fire climbing to the ceiling and spitting out embers that fizzled into nothing a second later.

Merlin wrenched his wandering gaze away from the stranger once more as they hit the bridge of the song, Mordred and Isolde weaving a complicated duet as the fires spat out heat and light in front of them.

Merlin focussed on the jets of flame, watching as their grey hues turned warmer as they crackled in their own dance of-

He blinked.

The flames weren’t just grey anymore. They were tinged with warmth. It was slow at first, and as he vaguely registered Freya and Tristan joining the music the burst of colour hit him so fast that he staggered and had to catch himself on the microphone stand, highly aware that he was very close to the edge of the stage.

He blinked furiously against the assault of hues he was suddenly faced with, dizzy with the realisation that his world had changed in an instant into one full of colour and vibrancy. The flames in front of him burst with beautifully saturated reds and oranges, just like his band had been talking about last night. A stolen glance around the stage showed that Freya had picked the red dress, and Ambrosia’s logo which was draped across the back of the stage was so much more beautiful now he could see the greens in the design. The laser lights, a moment ago just dull grey beams, were now alive with purples and pinks as they danced around the stage, reflecting off one another and exploding into thousands of shards of colour.

He was breathless by the sudden shock of it, so caught up in the feeling that it took his mind a second to truly understood what it actually meant.

The stranger was his soulmate.

He turned to the front row so quickly his hair hit him in the face as he did, and he brushed it away impatiently as the fires died down enough for the stranger, his person, come into view.

He was even more perfect in colour. His shirt was a light blue that caught the multicoloured laser lights that were making their way across the venue making it glow as he watched, and even from this distance Merlin could see the shellshocked expression on his handsome face.

Somehow Ambrosia was still playing as though Merlin’s world hadn’t just been turned on its head right there on the stage. Everything seemed to fall into place in the moment the chorus ended, and Merlin allowed himself a smile as he mouthed the words ‘It’s you!’ at his soulmate.

The man gave him a shaky nod as he returned his smile, his eyes crinkling in the corners. Merlin wanted nothing more than to jump off the stage and throw himself at the stranger, but he was nothing if not a professional. With the smile still on his face, Merlin took a breath, steadied himself, and continued to sing, pleased when his voice remained steady and didn’t betray the overwhelming slew of emotions coursing through his body.

The rest of their set passed in a vibrant blur of colour and sound. Merlin made it through the rest of their songs on memory alone, just about managing to keep himself from running off the stage into the audience as he wanted to do. Each song had different colours associated with it, the beautiful lights and fires burning brightly together and searing themselves onto his brain. Freya gave him a couple of strange looks which he responded to with a bashful grin and an unspoken apology. His eyes flicked to his soulmate more than once, taking in his features and committing them to memory in between verses and choruses.

Somehow, after what felt like an age, Ambrosia played their final notes to uproarious applause. Freya pulled them all together as Merlin risked the smallest of bows in his soulmate’s direction, smiling shyly as he did so. The other singer thanked the audience one final time as the band posed for photos, the flashes almost blinding them as they stood together, out of breath but proud of their performance.

Then they were being ushered off stage and the reality hit Merlin out of nowhere. He frantically turned and searched for his stranger, finding him standing where he’d left him looking as though he was seriously considering vaulting the barrier and joining him. Merlin held up a finger, hoping he had a smart soulmate who would understand the unspoken request for him to wait.

And then he was in the wings, the stagehand returning his violin as he joined his other bandmates in the side room where they were supposed to pack up and head out to the busses.

“Excellent show, that was,” Tristan was saying to Isolde as they packed up their guitars. “Daegol was right about the crowd, bloody wild.”

“It was great, wasn’t it,” Will said, wiping a hand over his sweaty forehead. “I’m knackered though, those last few songs just about did me in.”

“Well done, everyone,” Freya said, an empty water bottle in her hand that she’d just drained. “Great performance.”

She looked over at Merlin, who was looking down at the violin in the dim lights of the room. It really was a beautiful instrument now he could see it properly. The wood had been sprayed black and it was artfully decorated with a dozen blue hues that licked up the body like fire. The strings were metallic against the varnished wood, and he could see that the bow matched the pattern of the violin too.

“Are you okay, Merls?” Freya asked when he didn’t say anything. He looked up to see his band members staring at him, and he carefully set the violin back in its case, smiling at his friends.

“You really did a great job picking out the colours of the lights, guys,” he said, laughing as he watched their faces go from confusion to understanding, and finally settle on excitement as Freya and Mordred stepped towards him first.

“Holy shit mate, did you-”

“You can see colours-”

“Since when have you-?”

“Who is it?”

They swarmed Merlin, abandoning their tasks in favour of pelting him with questions. He laughed again, ducking away from Will who had grabbed him and was close to physically shaking him for answers.

“He’s in the audience,” Merlin said after a few moments. “Front row, saw him at the end of Avalon and the colours showed up halfway through Excalibur.”

“I thought your voice sounded a bit shaky in that one,” Tristain commented, not unkindly.

Merlin nodded. “I nearly fell off the stage,” he said, ignoring Will’s snort. “He’s out there right now, I asked him to wait.”

“Oh my god, Merlin,” Freya squealed, grabbing him and giving him a tight hug that ended up as a large, slightly sweaty group hug that Merlin was very grateful for but felt slightly suffocated from. He looked at each of his friends in turn, seeing their faces for the first time with colour and drinking it all in.

“Okay,” Freya said once they’d separated. “You can’t very well meet him looking like this,” she said as she looked him up and down. “Sweaty metal performer is great from a distance, but absolutely not for a first meeting with the love of your life.”

Merlin looked down at himself properly for the first time. Freya had dressed him in a dark blue shirt and black jeans, and he finally saw that the bracelets he was wearing were very subtly different shades of brown.

He was about to protest Freya’s words when she beat him to the punch.

“Merlin Emrys, you will go and shower and clean yourself up before you meet your soulmate,” she said sternly, ignoring Will and Mordred’s stifled laughter next to her. “I will go and find your uncle and send him to your dressing room and then he will go and fetch your man.”

“But-” Merlin started, but cut himself off on seeing his friend’s face go an alarming shade of red (Red, he could see red!). “Fine, fine,” he said, turning to pack his violin away quickly first.

“I’ll do that for you,” Isolde offered having already packed her own instrument up. “You go and sort yourself out before Freya explodes.”

Merlin resisted the urge to laugh and, with a word of thanks, practically ran off to his dressing room to grab a change of clothes. He showered in the small bathroom down the hall, barely noticing that the water was slightly cooler than lukewarm. His entire being was vibrating with nerves and excitement. Every moment was filled with colours, from the artificial-looking yellow body wash he used to the dark purple towel he’d had for years and never known it wasn’t grey. He dried off quickly, racing back to his dressing room after hastily pulling on some dark blue jeans and one of Ambrosia’s old tour t-shirts.

Then the nerves really began to take hold. He sat down heavily in the chair in front of the mirror and looked into it, seeing himself properly for the first time. Bright blue eyes looked back at him from a pale face framed with unruly dark brown hair. His cheeks were slightly pink from where he’d scrubbed at them in the shower, and he could finally see what everyone else saw when they looked at him.

What if his soulmate didn’t like him? What if he wasn’t into guys, or worse, just not into Merlin? He didn’t even know his partner’s name and he was already catastrophising their first meeting. What if he forgot how to speak, or accidentally insulted him, or spontaneously combusted or-

His spiralling was broken by a knock on the door which made him jump.

Gaius appeared a second later, a reserved smile on his face as he took in Merlin’s shaking hands and tapping foot.

“Merlin,” he greeted, crossing the room to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “How are you feeling, my boy?”

“Like I’m going to be sick.”

Gaius chuckled quietly as he stepped away.

“That’s perfectly natural,” he said soothingly, handing Merlin one of the bottles of water the venue had left in the room for him. “It can be quite a shock for most people when it happens, and many of them aren’t performing a sold-out show when they get their colours.”

“You know me, Gaius, always a flair for the dramatic,” Merlin said, trying for some humour to distract from the fact that his stomach was now doing perpetual somersaults.

Gaius eyed him as he uncapped the bottle and took a long drink, trying to ignore the shaking in his hands as he did so.

“I believe I know who it is,” his uncle said after a few moments. “Blonde, wearing a light blue shirt and apparently has a severe attachment to the barrier by the way he was gripping it?”

Merlin nodded, letting out a nervous snort as the stranger flashed across his mind. He took another drink of water, rather wishing it was something stronger.

“We can’t keep him waiting out there forever,” Gaius prompted quietly once Merlin had drained the bottle. “Shall I go and get him?”

Merlin closed his eyes before nodding, as though that would make a difference. He heard Gaius stand and felt a hand on his shoulder once again.

“I’ll be right back,” his uncle said gently, and then he was gone.

Merlin let out a nervous sigh that turned into a large huff of air. The room span slightly around him as he opened his eyes, and he stood slowly. Once upright he began to pace around the small space, forcing his mind to focus on the movement and not the fact that he was about to meet his other half for the first time in his life. At least he knew he was good looking...

In what felt like no time at all there was another knock at the door, and had there been a window in his dressing room Merlin would have seriously considered throwing himself out of it. Gaius appeared again, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“Is he...?” Merlin trailed off, gesturing to the door.

“He is here, yes,” Gaius said, and Merlin did his best to convince his body that no, it did not want to faint right now.

“I guess I should...” He couldn’t even get a sentence out.

“You should probably meet your life partner, yes,” Gaius finished for him, smiling as he gave Merlin a quick embrace. “Good luck,” he said quietly. “I will be here for you no matter what happens.”

Merlin nodded gratefully, forcing himself to remain standing as his uncle stepped away and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Merlin looked at it as though it might bite him. Maybe it would, he thought hopefully, and he’d die of his wounds and not have to face the enormity of the situation.

A tentative, quiet knock came a few seconds later, barely audible over Merlin’s heart pounding in his ears. It was time.

“Come in,” he said shakily, completely unable to keep the nerves out of his voice.

And then he was walking into the dressing room, his future, his destiny. He looked nervous but determinedly hiding it, standing straight and meeting Merlin’s gaze head on.

The door clicked shut behind him, and Merlin’s world narrowed to the man stood a few feet away from him. Neither of them said anything for a moment, each one simply taking in the presence of their other half. It was as though time had stopped all over again, Merlin taking the opportunity to truly commit his soulmate’s appearance to memory. The blue shirt he wore was only a few shades lighter than his eyes which were deep and piercing, and right now staring at Merlin as though he’d hung the moon and stars. His blonde hair was flopping slightly across his face, and it looked as though he’d run a hand through it several times.

Merlin wondered if his future was as nervous as he was.

They broke the silence at the same time, because of course they did.

“It’s really you-,” Merlin began to say at the same time as his soulmate said his name. They both stopped and laughed, the tension snapping like one of his violin strings after he played it too hard.

His soulmate’s voice was deep and rich, and his laugh was low and full of warmth. The man crossed the room quickly, closing the gap between them as Merlin had wanted to do since they’d first seen each other. They were close enough to touch.

“It really is you, isn’t it,” Merlin said hesitantly, eyes searching the man’s face for any sign of trickery or lies, but he could find none. He was one hundred percent sure that the man before him was his, a realisation that hit him so hard that it chased away all the nerves and fear he’d had coursing through his body for the last hour. He carefully reached out to grasp his partner’s hand and was pleasantly surprised to feel a slight shock pass between them as his soulmate took it and their fingers laced together as naturally as though they’d done it a thousand times before.

“I’m Arthur,” he said in that same deep voice, and Merlin’s stomach did a swoop that nearly made him burst out laughing again at the irony.

“Arthur,” he repeated, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Of course it is.”

His soulmate, Arthur, looked at him with confusion, and Merlin wondered if the gods he was so fascinated with actually existed and were having a great time watching them right now.

“Merlin and Arthur, from the legends? The true king and the warlock?” he prompted, sighing at the blank look on Arthur’s face. “I see we need to educate you on Arthurian mythology,” he laughed.

The last of the tension dissipated from the air as Merlin reached for Arthur’s other hand. They stood silently for a moment, simply looking at each other. Arthur’s blue eyes traced the lines of Merlin’s face, and they were close enough that Merlin could see the slight flecks of green in them.

He was completely captivated by them, watched them crinkle in amusement as he told Arthur how he’d almost pitched off the stage when his colours had appeared, and saw the understanding as Merlin explained that he was the last member of Ambrosia to get them.

Arthur looked just as awestruck as Merlin felt as they stood together, fingers laced together in the small room that neither of them even registered any more. He was still struggling to believe what was happening, if it wasn’t for the vibrant world around him that was so much better than he could have imagined Merlin would have thought he was dreaming.

“I’ve been looking for you for so long I was beginning to think I’d never find you,” he admitted quietly, looking down at their clasped hands and feeling his stomach do another somersault.

“I’m here now,” Arthur replied.

“That you are.”

The two of them stood in silence for a few moments, greedily taking these moments together in private before the inevitable time they would have to face the outside world. They spoke a little more, already trying to learn as much about each other as they could in the short time they had alone. Arthur lived in Camelot too, not far from the venue they’d just played, and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat when Arthur admitted he’d have moved anywhere to be with him.

“You’d do that for me?” he asked lowly.

“Of course I bloody would,” Arthur smiled. “You’re my soulmate, Merlin.”

It was the first time either of them had said the word. It suddenly made it real, another realisation of the situation hitting Merlin square in the chest.

“Say that again, please,” he asked.

Arthur hesitated for a second, wetting his dry lips. Merlin’s gaze followed the movement, the room suddenly hot and stuffy.

“You’re my soulmate, Merlin.”

The words were barely out of his mouth before Merlin surged forwards, meeting Arthur halfway as they came together in a kiss that made him see stars. He felt his soulmate’s strong hands let go of his own and snake around his waist, pulling them flush together as Merlin reached up and tangled his own hands in Arthur’s hair.

Arthur tasted faintly of alcohol, but underneath that he tasted like home. Merlin could have cried at the pure emotion he felt as they deepened the kiss, lost to the feeling of rightness that was washing over him as their mouths moved together perfectly. He finally understood why so many songs were written about love as the powerful feeling ripped through him like a tidal wave, making him sway on his feet and clutch Arthur harder.

Merlin didn’t know how long they let themselves get lost in that feeling, the two of them simply existing together as they had always been destined to. It was only a gentle knock on the closed door that finally forced them apart, both breathing heavily and wearing matching grins.

It was Gaius, as expected, gently requesting their presence outside as the venue was finally packed down for the night. He smiled as Merlin introduced Arthur to him properly, a slight eyebrow raise the only sign that he was amused at the name.

And then they were leaving, heading down the corridor and out into the night, hands clasped together like it was the most natural thing in the world. They emerged in the softly lit space by their tour busses, groups of people milling around as the final boxes were packed onto Ambrosia’s open bus.

Merlin spotted Julius signing an Ashkanar shirt belonging to one of the men he recognised as Arthur’s friend before they took a selfie together, and he spotted Arthur’s other friend chatting animatedly to Freya and Will over a drink.

“Merlin!”

Freya’s voice cut over the crowd as she spotted them as she, followed by the rest of Ambrosia, hurried over to greet them.

“Is he-?” she asked as she reached them, looking down at their joined hands with barely contained excitement.

Merlin nodded bashfully, grinning as his friend squealed in excitement at the news. He laughed as he saw Tristan and Isolde hold out their hands to Mordred and Will who rolled their eyes as they handed over some cash. They’d thought they’d been subtle about the various betting pools they had on him, but he’d been aware of most of the bets that had got more outlandish the longer they’d gone on for.

Merlin led Arthur down the steps only for them to be smothered by another group hug from the band, full of introductions and congratulations and excitement.

Arthur introduced Merlin to his friends, Lancelot and Gwaine. Gwaine was somewhat of a superfan, and had apparently gone around every single band asking for selfies and for them to sign the merchandise he’d bought. He hugged Merlin tightly as they were introduced, and asked him to sign his shirt.

“You should have seen our princess’s face when you were on that stage,” he said as he handed Merlin a pen. “Never seen the man so captivated by something in his life.”

Merlin smiled shyly as he signed his name between Freya’s and Nimueh’s.

Lancelot was a little calmer, shaking his hand when Arthur introduced them and clearly able to keep his excitement a little better contained. He was wearing a bright orange shirt that seemed to glow in the darkness, and it was with some surprise that Merlin learned that he had received his colours some years ago.

“I’m so happy for you both,” Lancelot said sincerely. “Just this evening Arthur was moping about his greyscale, I’m not sure how much I’d have been able to take.”

“I was not moping,” Arthur protested. “You guys were going on about the lighting and I felt left out.”

“Of course,” Lancelot laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Gwen messaged by the way, she’s absolutely beside herself with excitement and she’s on the phone to Morgana right now speculating how it happened.”

“It’s probably on the internet by now,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes slightly. “Maybe someone caught the moment I tripped when my greys went, I’m sure it was very attractive.”

Arthur and Lancelot laughed.

“The downside of being a rock star, I suppose,” Lancelot said, and Merlin nodded.

It was late, and one by one the bands waved their goodbyes and began meandering to their tour busses for the night. Daegol and Sefa dropped by to offer their congratulations, as did the other bands in dribs and drabs. Merlin couldn’t stop smiling, every now and then squeezing Arthur’s hand to check that he was still real, and still there.

Slowly, Ambrosia and Arthur’s friends were left alone on the asphalt, Gwaine insisting on a couple of group photos under the orange of the overhead lights. Merlin’s face hurt for grinning, but he wasn’t able to stop as Gwaine showed them all the photos. Arthur had put his arm around him and they’d subconsciously leaned together for the picture, smiling and surrounded by their friends.

A few minutes later the empty bottles had been thrown away and the band began to make their way towards their tour bus. Merlin hesitated, looking at Arthur in the dim light. His soulmate squeezed his hand.

“I don’t want to leave you,” Arthur said quietly so the others couldn’t hear.

“I don’t want you to go either,” Merlin said instantly, his heart lurching at the thought of not seeing Arthur for however long it would be. He had half a mind to see if he could sneak his soulmate onto their tour bus, but he was ninety percent sure Gaius would put his foot down no matter how happy he was for Merlin. Not to mention the health and safety of an extra person without a contract or insurance.

“It’s only for a few days though, right?” Arthur asked, stopping Merlin from debating those one in ten odds of him performing a successful stowaway manoeuvre. He nodded slowly.

He was a little better than Will at keeping track of the days, so knew they only had three more shows on their tour. All were only a few hours away from Camelot, and he was pretty sure that when Mordred had met Kara mid-tour she’d been allowed to follow them separately until she’d joined them properly for this tour. He distinctly remembered her being allowed a pass to come backstage and wondered if Gaius would be willing to let the band use some of their funds to cover one again. Maybe more for Arthur’s friends too.

Before the specifics were properly formed in his head he tried to articulate them.

“Well, if you want to, you could come with us?”

Arthur blinked.

“Is that allowed?” he asked hesitantly, and Merlin felt his mouth run away with the poorly formed idea before his brain could stop it. He tripped over his words as he tried to explain and only cut himself off when Arthur thankfully put him out of his misery.

“Merlin, I’d love to come with you,” he said, chuckling under his breath and shaking his head slightly as Merlin tried to calm the sudden spike of anxiety.

“Oh thank god, I thought you were having second thoughts,” he huffed out, choosing to ignore Arthur’s snigger.

“So he’s coming with us, right?” Isolde asked as the two of them eventually made their way back to the rest of the band.

“That he is,” Merlin said happily. “And you two are welcome to come too, if you’d like?” he asked Gwaine and Lancelot, whose mouths dropped open.

“Seriously?” Gwaine asked. “We can do that?”

“Why not,” Tristain said. “The more the merrier.”

“Arthur, your soulmate is a legend,” Lancelot said seriously, betraying his excitement that had been carefully hidden up to this point. “Gwen and Morgana are going to lose their minds.”

“They can come too, if they’d like,” Merlin said, enjoying the stunned look on Arthur’s friends faces. “I can sort backstage passes with Gaius, I’m sure, unless you’d prefer to be in the audience of course.”

Gwaine strode over to him and grasped him by the shoulder.

“I love you,” he said seriously, looking into Merlin’s eyes. “You are my new best friend, and my life has just reached new heights thanks to you. I will forever be in your debt”

“Hey, you have your own soulmate already, hands off mine,” Arthur joked and Gwaine cracked up, unable to keep the solemn expression on his face for a second longer.

“Thank you though, genuinely,” he said to Merlin before moving away to make a phone call.

“I can’t quite believe this is happening,” Lancelot said somewhat faintly. “This is amazing.”

Merlin grinned, watching as Arthur’s friends contacted their partners, wincing as he heard their excited shouts through the small speakers.

“I guess that’s settled then,” he said, turning to Arthur, who was already watching him.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked, and Merlin could hear the concealed nerves in his voice.

“Of course it is,” he said as the rest of his band disappeared one by one onto the tour bus. Freya gave a final wave to Arthur before she embarked.

“See you soon, I’m sure,” she said before winking at the pair of them and disappearing.

“They’re all so nice,” Arthur said, smiling as he waved back. “You all seem to get on so well with each other, and it shows in your music too.”

“We’ve all been through a lot,” Merlin explained. “Most of us were outcasts growing up so we turned to music to help us through it, and we found our way together because of it. It helped that Tristan and Isolde already had their colours when we started, and when Freya joined she found Will, so we had a good mix of greys and colours.”

He smiled, remember how will had dropped a cymbal on his foot when Freya had first walked into the room, almost deafening them as they’d run to each other.

“But now you all have colours,” Arthur smiled, shaking his head like he was still in disbelief.

Merlin nodded.

“Morgana’s on her way,” Gwaine called across the asphalt. “She’ll only be a few minutes.”

Merlin embraced Arthur again, steadfastly ignoring the curtain twitches caused by his nosy band mates on their tour bus as he did so.

A couple of minutes later the headlights of a car appeared around the corner, accompanied by Gwaine’s unnecessary announcement of her arrival.

“One second,” Arthur replied, extracting himself from Merlin’s arms with reluctance.

“We’ll see each other in a few hours,” Merlin said softly. “And then we’ll see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that-”

Arthur leaned in and kissed him, effectively shutting him up. Merlin found that he didn’t mind.

“I get it,” his soulmate whispered, and Merlin felt the smirk rather than saw it. “I’d better go, but I’ll see you when we get to the hotel in a few hours.”

The car horn beeped, and a woman’s voice called Arthur’s name.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said to Merlin, and he kissed him once more, slow and deep this time, leaving him breathless with a huge grin on his face. Then, all too soon, Arthur turned and walked away towards the headlights.

“Don’t be late,” Merlin said loud enough for his future to hear him. “I waited long enough for you already.”

Arthur turned and smiled before giving a two fingered salute. Merlin’s heart, certainly trying to make up for all the beats it had skipped this evening, thumped faster as he watched his beautiful soulmate reach the car and get in. The engine revved as the car turned and headed away, and Merlin watched the red back lights until they disappeared around the corner before he walked slowly to his tour bus. His face hurt from smiling, his heart ached from happiness, and he knew that he would remember this evening forever.

The night he finally got his colours.