find where I belong (incomplete, rock of ages/merlin fusion au)
Paradise City
Just Like Paradise/Nothin’ But a Good Time
Morgana’s being three times as annoying as usual when they get to the pub, a small hole in the wall. There’s a sign hanging above the door, tottering on the edge of falling off. Triskele it says, and Arthur feels his lip curl back slightly.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to be here, but he doesn’t want to be here. In fact, he’d rather be any place other than here - Leon’s, for example. But that’s not going to happen because apparently Morgana wants to waste her birthday inside of a dirty, probably-rat infested pub. There wasn’t even music, for god’s sake, and Arthur supposes that is irritating him more than anything else. Morgana titters over to the bar, ordering her first drink of the night that’ll probably dissolve into at least five more by the time they get home. The pub is filled, mostly when men wearing tank tops and girls wearing, well, something like tank tops. They’re all milling about, seemingly unconcerned with the crap lighting and awful beer.
“Ooh!” Morgana says, right when Arthur’s about to reach his breaking point, birthday be damned. “They’re coming on now!”
“Wonderful,” because apparently the crappy pub, and crappy beer wasn’t enough for the night. They had to have crappy music too.
“Oh, shush,” Morgana hisses, and the crappy lighting gets even crappier as the lights dim and focus on the small stage. It’s not an impressive band, but Arthur suddenly realizes why Morgana’s drug him here. The band walks out on stage, and lo and behold, who should walk on but Morgause.
“You are in so much trouble,” Arthur hisses as he spins and turns towards Morgana. “You’re not supposed to-”
“Oh, shush!” Morgana repeats again, and bats him on the arm. Arthur goes to protest, but he knows it won’t amount to anything, so he might as well hold his breath. Instead, he turns back to the band and watches as they set up. There’s Morgause, a thick black headband pushing back her blonde hair that she worked into thick, long dreadlocks. She’s wearing a red tank top, and jeans so tight that Arthur has to make sure that they are indeed jeans, along with knee high boots with long, high heels. She pulls a red guitar over her head, strums a few chords, before she plugs in her amp.
Morgause isn’t the only one though. There’s a younger kid with a black mop of hair that goes directly to the drums. He’s wearing jeans and a simple black t-shirt, and looks utterly unaffected by the crowd. Another woman slings a heavy bass guitar over her shoulder, and she’s wearing a short red dress, with black heels. The dress is nearly in ruins though, and some of the fabric is limp on her body.
But then, and here’s where Morgana’s suddenly grabbing Arthur’s hand, a man walks out, tall and long limbed, black hair thick and shaggy on his head. He’s wearing jeans, and a black t-shirt, like the boy behind the drums, except it has a Guns & Roses logo imprinted on it.
“Hey, everybody,” the man speaks into the microphone, and he sounds joyfully, and not the least bit nervous. “You should all know who we are, but for any new comers, I’m Merlin,” he gestures to himself, and grins, “and no, it’s not a joke. This is Morgause,” he inclines his head towards Morgause, who nods. “Freya,” he gestures towards the girl in the red dress. She smiles, folds her leg behind her, and curtisies. “And this is Mordred, Freya’s brother.” Merlin laughs, and Arthur finds himself squeezing Morgana back. “Our little rocker-in-training.”
“Fuck off,” Mordred calls out, and Freya turns on her heel with a sharp ‘language!’
Merlin laughs though, and chuckles echo through the room. “Anyway,” he continues. “We’re the Druids, and we’re going to do some covers for you tonight, how bout that?”
The room cheers, and Arthur suddenly realizes that he’s not the only person in the room. Merlin laughs even louder.
“Glad to see some enthusiasm. Let’s rock, eh?” The room cheers again, and Morguase starts strumming her guitar lightly as Mordred picks up a beat on his drums, Freya echoing it with her bass. It’s a steady beat until it picks up.
And then Merlin joins in. He strums the guitar, fingers flying across the strings, a grin on his face, and suddenly the sun picks up pace, moving to the rhythm.
“Just an urchin livin' under the street, I'm a - hard case that's tough to beat, I'm your charity case, so buy me something to eat, I'll pay you at another time,” Merlin draws out the last note. “Take it to the end of the line!”
The room erupts back into cheers. Merlin grins, and picks up the beat on his guitar.
“Rags to riches, or so they say, You gotta keep pushin' for the fortune and fame, You know, it's all a gamble when it's just a game, You treat it like a capital crime,” he draws out the last note again and punctuates the last note on his guitar. “Everybody's doin' the time!”
“I know this song,” Arthur says, and Morgana stops for her insane head bobbing to look over at him and shake her head.
“Of course you know this song,” she says, like she’s speaking to a child. “It’s Guns n’ Roses. You can even sing along, if you want.”
Arthur frowns, and Morgana grins. “Just wait for it,” she says.
“Take me down to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty. Take! Me! Home! Yeah! Take me down to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, Oh, won't you please take me home?!”
(So, yeah, Arthur does know the song.)
-
“Isn’t he great?” Morgana asks when they work their ways towards backstage, and yes, Arthur does feel very out of place in his button up shirt and trousers. “Really, Morgause was worried when she joined up, but she said he’s been amazing.”
“Really,” Arthur says, skepticism clear in his voice. “Morgause said that he was amazing.”
Morgana shifts. “Not in so many words. Anyway look, here they are.” She doesn’t wait for Arthur to turn, just barrels forward to jump towards and wrap her arms around Morguase, who hugs her back just as fiercely, and maybe Arthur’s heart twinges in his ribcage. Maybe. (Because really it was still supremely unfair that Morgana was banned from seeing Morgause when it was neither of their faults.)
“You weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” Morgause murmurs against Morgana’s hair, and Arthur ducks his eyes. “You nearly gave me a heartattack when I saw you in the audience.”
“I wasn’t going to miss your first set,” Morgana says, firmly, voice muffled by Morgause’s hair. “Restrictions be damned.”
Morgause chuckles lightly. “That’s my girl.”
“Morgause-! Oh!”
All three of them spin to look at Merlin, who stopped short in the doorway, blinking. “Sorry,” he says, grimacing slightly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Freya and I are getting a drink - first rounds on me?”
“Coming,” Morgause says, lightly, and pulls Morgana forward. “Morgana, meet Merlin. Merlin, Morgana and Arthur.”
“Oh!” Merlin says, and grins. “So you’re Morgana! I’ve heard a lot about you - well,” Merlin amends. “A lot my what I believe Morgause’s standards to be. Come to the bar with us, first rounds on me like I said.”
Arthur goes to protest - it really is late, Father is expecting us - but Morgana is already moving towards the bar, and Arthur starts up a steady mantra of ‘it’s her birthday, it’s her birthday’ and follows her out. Merlin slows his pace, letting Morgause and Morgana go on ahead, and matches Arthur’s step. Arthur gives him a quick look, and then finds a stool at the end of the bar. Merlin looks at him, and then the three stools between Morgana and Arthur.
“Don’t you want to sit closer?” he asks, and Arthur looks up.
“What?”
Merlin laughs. “We’re not going to bite you.”
“No,” Arthur says, or rather snaps, because really. “Look, it’s just that it’s late, and I had a long day, and I really don’t want to be here - actually, the only reason I am is because it’s Morgana’s birthday.”
It takes a second for Arthur to realize that Merlin’s eyes are slightly wider, and he’s moving to stand, and before Arthur can stop himself, he has a hand around the other man’s upper arm.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have - it just really has been a long day.” Arthur feels the annoying guilt claw it’s way up his stomach.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Merlin questions, and Arthur resists the urge to raise his eyebrow because hello, Merlin didn’t even know his last name.
“No,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “Just a bad combination of work, school, and family issues.”
Merlin hums. “Know how you feel. Another dime, I can pay my rent, I can’t barely make it through the week.”
“Well,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “Not exactly.”
Merlin raises an eyebrow. “Saturday night, I’d like to make my girl, but right now, now I can’t make ends meet.”
Arthur shakes his head again. “No girl to speak of.” (And he decides to ignore how Merlin grins a little wider.)
“I’m always working, slaving, every day. Gotta get a break from the same old, same old,” Merlin sings, and Arthur stands up.
“Yes,” he says, determined. “That’s it, exactly! I need a chance just to get a way, if you can hear me think, this is what I’d say-”
“Don’t need nothing, but a good time!” Merlin cuts in, going to stand next to Arthur.
Arthur slams his hand down on the table. “How can I resist? Ain’t looking for nothing, but a good time!”
Merlin pushes Arthur forward through the crowd, towards Morgana and Morguase. “And it don’t get better than this! Two beers! On me!” Merlin calls towards the bartender and pushes Arthur towards a seat beside Morgana, and an older man with a five o’clock shadow, empty glasses and beer bottles littering the area around him.
“Say I spend my money on woman and wine,” the man next to them starts, shaking his head as he passes Arthur’s drink to him. “But I couldn’t tell you where I spent last night. I’m really sorry about the shape I’m in, I just like my fun, every now and then.” He throws his money down onto the counter, and stands, nearly tripping over himself.
“I’m always working, slaving, everyday,” Arthur says, and watches as most of the pub makes agreeing sounds. “Gotta get a break from the same old, same old - I need a chance just to get away! If you could hear me think, this is what I’d say -”
“Don’t need nothing!” Morgana says, waving her hand dismissively. “But a good time!”
“How can I resist?” Arthur questions, taking a swig of his beer. “Ain’t looking for nothing!
“But a good time!” Freya calls, holding up her beer. “And it don’t get better than this!”
Merlin claps Arthur on the shoulder, and then climbs up onto the counter, much to the disgruntlement of the barkeep. “See, I raise a toast, to all of us. Who are breaking our backs, everyday. If wanting to good life is such a crime? Lord, then put me away. Here’s to ya!”
The entire pub erupts into shouts and cheers, and Merlin grins, as the bar starts to chant.
“Don’t need nothing! But a good time!” Morgana nearly falls over, screaming at the top of her lungs. Morgause barely manages to catch her. “How can I resist?! Ain’t looking for nothing! But a good time! And it don’t get better than this! Don’t need nothing! But a good time! How can I resist? Ain’t looking for nothing - but a good time! And it don’t get better than this.”
“Don’t need nothing! But a good time!” Merlin calls, and hops off the bar to land next to Arthur.
“This must be just like living in paradise,” Arthur says, and laughs. “And I don’t want to go home.”
“Ain’t looking for nothing, but a good time!” and Merlin smiles towards Arthur. “And it don’t get better than this.”
Just Like Paradise/Nothin’ But a Good Time
Morgana’s being three times as annoying as usual when they get to the pub, a small hole in the wall. There’s a sign hanging above the door, tottering on the edge of falling off. Triskele it says, and Arthur feels his lip curl back slightly.
It’s not that he doesn’t want to be here, but he doesn’t want to be here. In fact, he’d rather be any place other than here - Leon’s, for example. But that’s not going to happen because apparently Morgana wants to waste her birthday inside of a dirty, probably-rat infested pub. There wasn’t even music, for god’s sake, and Arthur supposes that is irritating him more than anything else. Morgana titters over to the bar, ordering her first drink of the night that’ll probably dissolve into at least five more by the time they get home. The pub is filled, mostly when men wearing tank tops and girls wearing, well, something like tank tops. They’re all milling about, seemingly unconcerned with the crap lighting and awful beer.
“Ooh!” Morgana says, right when Arthur’s about to reach his breaking point, birthday be damned. “They’re coming on now!”
“Wonderful,” because apparently the crappy pub, and crappy beer wasn’t enough for the night. They had to have crappy music too.
“Oh, shush,” Morgana hisses, and the crappy lighting gets even crappier as the lights dim and focus on the small stage. It’s not an impressive band, but Arthur suddenly realizes why Morgana’s drug him here. The band walks out on stage, and lo and behold, who should walk on but Morgause.
“You are in so much trouble,” Arthur hisses as he spins and turns towards Morgana. “You’re not supposed to-”
“Oh, shush!” Morgana repeats again, and bats him on the arm. Arthur goes to protest, but he knows it won’t amount to anything, so he might as well hold his breath. Instead, he turns back to the band and watches as they set up. There’s Morgause, a thick black headband pushing back her blonde hair that she worked into thick, long dreadlocks. She’s wearing a red tank top, and jeans so tight that Arthur has to make sure that they are indeed jeans, along with knee high boots with long, high heels. She pulls a red guitar over her head, strums a few chords, before she plugs in her amp.
Morgause isn’t the only one though. There’s a younger kid with a black mop of hair that goes directly to the drums. He’s wearing jeans and a simple black t-shirt, and looks utterly unaffected by the crowd. Another woman slings a heavy bass guitar over her shoulder, and she’s wearing a short red dress, with black heels. The dress is nearly in ruins though, and some of the fabric is limp on her body.
But then, and here’s where Morgana’s suddenly grabbing Arthur’s hand, a man walks out, tall and long limbed, black hair thick and shaggy on his head. He’s wearing jeans, and a black t-shirt, like the boy behind the drums, except it has a Guns & Roses logo imprinted on it.
“Hey, everybody,” the man speaks into the microphone, and he sounds joyfully, and not the least bit nervous. “You should all know who we are, but for any new comers, I’m Merlin,” he gestures to himself, and grins, “and no, it’s not a joke. This is Morgause,” he inclines his head towards Morgause, who nods. “Freya,” he gestures towards the girl in the red dress. She smiles, folds her leg behind her, and curtisies. “And this is Mordred, Freya’s brother.” Merlin laughs, and Arthur finds himself squeezing Morgana back. “Our little rocker-in-training.”
“Fuck off,” Mordred calls out, and Freya turns on her heel with a sharp ‘language!’
Merlin laughs though, and chuckles echo through the room. “Anyway,” he continues. “We’re the Druids, and we’re going to do some covers for you tonight, how bout that?”
The room cheers, and Arthur suddenly realizes that he’s not the only person in the room. Merlin laughs even louder.
“Glad to see some enthusiasm. Let’s rock, eh?” The room cheers again, and Morguase starts strumming her guitar lightly as Mordred picks up a beat on his drums, Freya echoing it with her bass. It’s a steady beat until it picks up.
And then Merlin joins in. He strums the guitar, fingers flying across the strings, a grin on his face, and suddenly the sun picks up pace, moving to the rhythm.
“Just an urchin livin' under the street, I'm a - hard case that's tough to beat, I'm your charity case, so buy me something to eat, I'll pay you at another time,” Merlin draws out the last note. “Take it to the end of the line!”
The room erupts back into cheers. Merlin grins, and picks up the beat on his guitar.
“Rags to riches, or so they say, You gotta keep pushin' for the fortune and fame, You know, it's all a gamble when it's just a game, You treat it like a capital crime,” he draws out the last note again and punctuates the last note on his guitar. “Everybody's doin' the time!”
“I know this song,” Arthur says, and Morgana stops for her insane head bobbing to look over at him and shake her head.
“Of course you know this song,” she says, like she’s speaking to a child. “It’s Guns n’ Roses. You can even sing along, if you want.”
Arthur frowns, and Morgana grins. “Just wait for it,” she says.
“Take me down to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty. Take! Me! Home! Yeah! Take me down to the Paradise City where the grass is green and the girls are pretty, Oh, won't you please take me home?!”
(So, yeah, Arthur does know the song.)
-
“Isn’t he great?” Morgana asks when they work their ways towards backstage, and yes, Arthur does feel very out of place in his button up shirt and trousers. “Really, Morgause was worried when she joined up, but she said he’s been amazing.”
“Really,” Arthur says, skepticism clear in his voice. “Morgause said that he was amazing.”
Morgana shifts. “Not in so many words. Anyway look, here they are.” She doesn’t wait for Arthur to turn, just barrels forward to jump towards and wrap her arms around Morguase, who hugs her back just as fiercely, and maybe Arthur’s heart twinges in his ribcage. Maybe. (Because really it was still supremely unfair that Morgana was banned from seeing Morgause when it was neither of their faults.)
“You weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” Morgause murmurs against Morgana’s hair, and Arthur ducks his eyes. “You nearly gave me a heartattack when I saw you in the audience.”
“I wasn’t going to miss your first set,” Morgana says, firmly, voice muffled by Morgause’s hair. “Restrictions be damned.”
Morgause chuckles lightly. “That’s my girl.”
“Morgause-! Oh!”
All three of them spin to look at Merlin, who stopped short in the doorway, blinking. “Sorry,” he says, grimacing slightly. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Freya and I are getting a drink - first rounds on me?”
“Coming,” Morgause says, lightly, and pulls Morgana forward. “Morgana, meet Merlin. Merlin, Morgana and Arthur.”
“Oh!” Merlin says, and grins. “So you’re Morgana! I’ve heard a lot about you - well,” Merlin amends. “A lot my what I believe Morgause’s standards to be. Come to the bar with us, first rounds on me like I said.”
Arthur goes to protest - it really is late, Father is expecting us - but Morgana is already moving towards the bar, and Arthur starts up a steady mantra of ‘it’s her birthday, it’s her birthday’ and follows her out. Merlin slows his pace, letting Morgause and Morgana go on ahead, and matches Arthur’s step. Arthur gives him a quick look, and then finds a stool at the end of the bar. Merlin looks at him, and then the three stools between Morgana and Arthur.
“Don’t you want to sit closer?” he asks, and Arthur looks up.
“What?”
Merlin laughs. “We’re not going to bite you.”
“No,” Arthur says, or rather snaps, because really. “Look, it’s just that it’s late, and I had a long day, and I really don’t want to be here - actually, the only reason I am is because it’s Morgana’s birthday.”
It takes a second for Arthur to realize that Merlin’s eyes are slightly wider, and he’s moving to stand, and before Arthur can stop himself, he has a hand around the other man’s upper arm.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have - it just really has been a long day.” Arthur feels the annoying guilt claw it’s way up his stomach.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Merlin questions, and Arthur resists the urge to raise his eyebrow because hello, Merlin didn’t even know his last name.
“No,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “Just a bad combination of work, school, and family issues.”
Merlin hums. “Know how you feel. Another dime, I can pay my rent, I can’t barely make it through the week.”
“Well,” Arthur says, shaking his head. “Not exactly.”
Merlin raises an eyebrow. “Saturday night, I’d like to make my girl, but right now, now I can’t make ends meet.”
Arthur shakes his head again. “No girl to speak of.” (And he decides to ignore how Merlin grins a little wider.)
“I’m always working, slaving, every day. Gotta get a break from the same old, same old,” Merlin sings, and Arthur stands up.
“Yes,” he says, determined. “That’s it, exactly! I need a chance just to get a way, if you can hear me think, this is what I’d say-”
“Don’t need nothing, but a good time!” Merlin cuts in, going to stand next to Arthur.
Arthur slams his hand down on the table. “How can I resist? Ain’t looking for nothing, but a good time!”
Merlin pushes Arthur forward through the crowd, towards Morgana and Morguase. “And it don’t get better than this! Two beers! On me!” Merlin calls towards the bartender and pushes Arthur towards a seat beside Morgana, and an older man with a five o’clock shadow, empty glasses and beer bottles littering the area around him.
“Say I spend my money on woman and wine,” the man next to them starts, shaking his head as he passes Arthur’s drink to him. “But I couldn’t tell you where I spent last night. I’m really sorry about the shape I’m in, I just like my fun, every now and then.” He throws his money down onto the counter, and stands, nearly tripping over himself.
“I’m always working, slaving, everyday,” Arthur says, and watches as most of the pub makes agreeing sounds. “Gotta get a break from the same old, same old - I need a chance just to get away! If you could hear me think, this is what I’d say -”
“Don’t need nothing!” Morgana says, waving her hand dismissively. “But a good time!”
“How can I resist?” Arthur questions, taking a swig of his beer. “Ain’t looking for nothing!
“But a good time!” Freya calls, holding up her beer. “And it don’t get better than this!”
Merlin claps Arthur on the shoulder, and then climbs up onto the counter, much to the disgruntlement of the barkeep. “See, I raise a toast, to all of us. Who are breaking our backs, everyday. If wanting to good life is such a crime? Lord, then put me away. Here’s to ya!”
The entire pub erupts into shouts and cheers, and Merlin grins, as the bar starts to chant.
“Don’t need nothing! But a good time!” Morgana nearly falls over, screaming at the top of her lungs. Morgause barely manages to catch her. “How can I resist?! Ain’t looking for nothing! But a good time! And it don’t get better than this! Don’t need nothing! But a good time! How can I resist? Ain’t looking for nothing - but a good time! And it don’t get better than this.”
“Don’t need nothing! But a good time!” Merlin calls, and hops off the bar to land next to Arthur.
“This must be just like living in paradise,” Arthur says, and laughs. “And I don’t want to go home.”
“Ain’t looking for nothing, but a good time!” and Merlin smiles towards Arthur. “And it don’t get better than this.”