Chapter 52: It’s just a coincidence

Chapter 52: It's just a coincidence

(Arthur POV)

With the cameras safely delivered to Green Forest, we're on the brink of starting filming. As director, I've got to be on top of everything. But this time, I'm pulling double duty - I'm not just behind the camera, I'm in front of it too.

Yeah. Just like with "The Demonfather" where I played Michael Corleone, I'm taking on a role in "The Lord of the Rings." Aragorn, to be precise.

I've been prepping like crazy for this. Even dipped into the Skills Shop and snagged some entry-level acting skills for a cool ten thousand points. It's basic stuff, but combined with my own take on the character, it should do the trick. At least, that's what I'm telling myself.

Later that day, I swing by the studio to check on things. I'm looking for Imkrag, our Gollum, and holy hellfire - I almost don't recognize him.

In just a week, he's completely transformed. His once-bushy afro is now thin and stringy, just like Gollum's. And his body? It's like he's shrunk and stretched at the same time, all sinewy muscle and bulging eyes. Those potions really did a number on him.

"Imkrag," I call out, and the crew turns, surprised to see me.

Lilith pipes up, "You're back, boss?"

I nod, not bothering to explain my comings and goings. My eyes are fixed on Imkrag. It's uncanny how much he looks like the Gollum in my mind's eye.

"You've really embraced the role, Imkrag," I say, impressed despite myself. "That's some serious dedication."

Imkrag looks down, seemingly embarrassed by the praise. "I'm honored that you like it, your high-" He catches himself. "I mean, boss."

I make a mental note to check on his health. Those potions might be effective, but they're not exactly gentle. Still, seeing Imkrag's transformation, I can't help but feel a surge of excitement. If this is the level of commitment we're working with, this film is going to be something truly special.

***

After wrapping up my chat with Imkrag about his health, I turn to Lilith. "How's the cast doing? Everyone settled in okay?"

Lilith nods, a hint of pride in her voice. "Yes, boss. We've got everyone comfortable, especially Ms. Evergreen and Mr. Darkflame."

"Great. Where are they now?"

"That's what I like to hear," I say, feeling a surge of excitement for what's to come. With this level of dedication from the cast, we might just pull off something spectacular.

I turn to Firfel, curiosity piqued. "And you, my lady? How are you finding your role?"

Firfel's smile is warm, but there's a glint of something in her eye. "I'm doing well, thank you. Though I am curious about something." She pauses, her gaze sharpening. "Arwen, my character, is Aragorn's love interest. Who, may I ask, will be playing Aragorn?"

I can't help the mischievous grin that spreads across my face as I point to myself, saying nothing.

Rupert's eyes widen. "You're playing Aragorn?"

I nod, watching their reactions.

Firfel doesn't seem surprised, but her lips quirk up in amusement. "I'm starting to notice a pattern here, Arthur."

"Oh? What pattern?" I ask, feigning innocence.

"You as Aragorn, me as his lover, Arwen," she says, her tone playful but with an undercurrent of... something else. "Doesn't this feel familiar?"

Rupert chimes in, realization dawning on his face. "Now that you mention it, weren't you two lovers in 'The Demonfather' as well?"

Firfel nods, her gaze never leaving mine. "Indeed we were. And now, here we are again. Be honest with me, Arthur... Are there any underlying motives I should know about?" She raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and genuine curiosity.

I feel a flush creeping up my neck. "What? No, it's just a coincidence," I say, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Rupert, sensing the tension, starts backing away. "I think I know what you're up to, Your Highness," he says with a knowing smirk. "But I'll leave you two to it." And with that, he's gone, leaving me alone with Firfel.

I watch him go, suddenly very aware of Firfel's presence beside me. "What's he talking about?" I mutter, more to myself than anyone else.

Firfel's laugh is soft, but it fills the space between us. "Oh, Arthur," she says, her voice tinged with amusement. "For someone so clever, you can be quite oblivious sometimes."

I turn back to her, feeling oddly vulnerable. "I have no idea what you mean," I say, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.