Chemistry part 7
Author: archaeologist_d
Title: Chemistry part 7
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Morgause
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Morgause
Summary: The scrawny kid knew more about chemistry than Arthur did. Who knew he’d fall in love with the idiot?
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1041
Camelot Drabble Prompt bingo 512: spring
Author’s Notes: Morgause and Morgana are not related in this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Arthur was thoroughly annoyed. His sister, not that he’d call her a witch but some other term more fitting an annoying sibling, had told him to find a holy spring and fling something into it. As if it would magically force Merlin to come out of the shadows or something.
Trouble was that there were several holy springs or wells in the area, at least they were purported to be such, but Arthur looked up their history and it sounded more like hand-waving than any kind of reality. But he did look into a few-not that he was going to do what Morgana said but more for curiosity’s sake. They were mostly broken-down old buildings with a little water seeping out, usually surrounded by rubbish.
The tourists had got there before him.
Thinking that maybe she had been pulling his leg, nevertheless, he even drove down to Holywell and the sea cave there. At least, that one was impressive enough, the interior of the cave with lots of colourful minerals drawing the eye to the spring and history going back centuries. But it wasn’t close at all to Tintagel, and he thought more than a few times that he was chasing a dream and not the reality of finding Merlin.
Finally, he got so frustrated with it all that he called Morgana back.
“Well, your spring theory is bollocks. There are lots of springs around here and all of them filled with trash or else they are seedy, tumbled-down ruins,” Arthur said, not even waiting for her to say hello.
“And that is my problem, how?” Morgana snapped back. “Hello to you, too, my idiot brother.”
“You could have just told me to go to a specific one and save me all this time tramping up and down half of Cornwall,” he pointed out, hating to admit that he’d taken her advice, especially on such a ridiculous piece of twaddle.
He could almost see the smirk on her face as she snickered, “What would be the fun in that?”
“Morgana, are you having me on? This isn’t a joke for me,” Arthur snarled. He didn’t need his infuriating sister making things worse with her hints of mystery and magic and accusing him of slacking off because he didn’t know about every stupid enchanted spring in the area. He already felt the fool. “Stop being such a bint. Merlin’s been out of my life for three years and it’s been hell. I thought I could move on, but I can’t. So help me, damn it.”
That must have shocked her because her voice was normal, even soft when she said, “I thought you were shagging that gorgeous doctor. You talked about him often enough. Leon, was it? And then there was the intern, dark and daring, with the hair. And a tall muscle-bound hunk that even I thought about climbing.”
He had thought about it, but when he kissed them, all he could think about was Merlin. Finally, he said, “They’re just friends.” The snort at the other end of the line made him furious. “I wasn’t fucking them, you daft cow, and how it is any business of yours anyway?” She didn’t answer right away. There were sounds on the phone, almost as if Morgana was covering the phone and having a conversation with someone else. “Hey, are you talking to someone else? That weird girlfriend of yours? Where are you?”
Morgana said, her voice at once defensive and yet heated, “Morgause is the light of my life. Unlike you.”
Arthur knew it was a sore spot. Morgana and Morgause had been lovers for a couple of years, even sharing a flat in London, and while Arthur was fine with it, their father was not. Still, he couldn’t help poking at Morgana a bit. “Then why haven’t you brought her home?”
“And let our rigid, judgmental wanker of a father have at her? You know what he’s like. Sneering and condescending and doing his best to break us apart. No, thanks.” When Arthur didn’t defend Uther-not that he ever would on this, Morgana was happy with Morgause and that’s all that really mattered-, Morgana said, “I’m still at Boscastle. She bought the museum here and I’m helping her update it. We were even talking about having the Druids come in once in a while to give lectures on spirituality and magic. Maybe even sponsor a festival or two. Not that you’d care.”
Maybe that wasn’t all that really mattered. If Morgause was messing with Morgana and drawing her into all that magic rubbish, he would have to have a word or three with his sister about it.
He knew he shouldn’t bring it up just then, but he couldn’t help himself. “The witch museum? Don’t tell me you believe in all that bollocks? Morgana.”
“You only want to hear about things you can see or touch or make sense of, not anything else but you ignore them at your own peril.” She sounded thoroughly annoyed, almost as if she had expected his reaction and yet hoped it would be different this time. Finally, she said, “You want my help or not?”
Sighing, knowing that, later, they’d argue more about Morgause and the museum and Morgana getting involved with witches, nevertheless, Arthur said, “Yes, I want your help. Can you tell me the spring you were talking about? Not that I believe any of it but I’m at my wits end.”
She must have heard the defeat in his voice. “All right. Let me just look at the tides table.” There was a bit of noise, then she came back and said, “I’ll meet you by Merlin’s cave in half an hour.”
At first, he thought she meant that his Merlin had a cave, and she knew all about it, but then he realised she was talking about the English Heritage site, just below Tintagel castle. “There’s no spring there, not in the cave and not on the headland, either. I looked.”
“Well, maybe you need to look again.” He could almost hear the smirk in her voice.
Frowning down at the phone, he said, “Morgana, are you having me on?”
“Just be there,” she said, and hung up.
Title: Chemistry part 7
Rating: PG-13
Pairing/s: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana/Morgause
Character/s: Merlin, Arthur, Morgana, Morgause
Summary: The scrawny kid knew more about chemistry than Arthur did. Who knew he’d fall in love with the idiot?
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1041
Camelot Drabble Prompt bingo 512: spring
Author’s Notes: Morgause and Morgana are not related in this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; They and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
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Arthur was thoroughly annoyed. His sister, not that he’d call her a witch but some other term more fitting an annoying sibling, had told him to find a holy spring and fling something into it. As if it would magically force Merlin to come out of the shadows or something.
Trouble was that there were several holy springs or wells in the area, at least they were purported to be such, but Arthur looked up their history and it sounded more like hand-waving than any kind of reality. But he did look into a few-not that he was going to do what Morgana said but more for curiosity’s sake. They were mostly broken-down old buildings with a little water seeping out, usually surrounded by rubbish.
The tourists had got there before him.
Thinking that maybe she had been pulling his leg, nevertheless, he even drove down to Holywell and the sea cave there. At least, that one was impressive enough, the interior of the cave with lots of colourful minerals drawing the eye to the spring and history going back centuries. But it wasn’t close at all to Tintagel, and he thought more than a few times that he was chasing a dream and not the reality of finding Merlin.
Finally, he got so frustrated with it all that he called Morgana back.
“Well, your spring theory is bollocks. There are lots of springs around here and all of them filled with trash or else they are seedy, tumbled-down ruins,” Arthur said, not even waiting for her to say hello.
“And that is my problem, how?” Morgana snapped back. “Hello to you, too, my idiot brother.”
“You could have just told me to go to a specific one and save me all this time tramping up and down half of Cornwall,” he pointed out, hating to admit that he’d taken her advice, especially on such a ridiculous piece of twaddle.
He could almost see the smirk on her face as she snickered, “What would be the fun in that?”
“Morgana, are you having me on? This isn’t a joke for me,” Arthur snarled. He didn’t need his infuriating sister making things worse with her hints of mystery and magic and accusing him of slacking off because he didn’t know about every stupid enchanted spring in the area. He already felt the fool. “Stop being such a bint. Merlin’s been out of my life for three years and it’s been hell. I thought I could move on, but I can’t. So help me, damn it.”
That must have shocked her because her voice was normal, even soft when she said, “I thought you were shagging that gorgeous doctor. You talked about him often enough. Leon, was it? And then there was the intern, dark and daring, with the hair. And a tall muscle-bound hunk that even I thought about climbing.”
He had thought about it, but when he kissed them, all he could think about was Merlin. Finally, he said, “They’re just friends.” The snort at the other end of the line made him furious. “I wasn’t fucking them, you daft cow, and how it is any business of yours anyway?” She didn’t answer right away. There were sounds on the phone, almost as if Morgana was covering the phone and having a conversation with someone else. “Hey, are you talking to someone else? That weird girlfriend of yours? Where are you?”
Morgana said, her voice at once defensive and yet heated, “Morgause is the light of my life. Unlike you.”
Arthur knew it was a sore spot. Morgana and Morgause had been lovers for a couple of years, even sharing a flat in London, and while Arthur was fine with it, their father was not. Still, he couldn’t help poking at Morgana a bit. “Then why haven’t you brought her home?”
“And let our rigid, judgmental wanker of a father have at her? You know what he’s like. Sneering and condescending and doing his best to break us apart. No, thanks.” When Arthur didn’t defend Uther-not that he ever would on this, Morgana was happy with Morgause and that’s all that really mattered-, Morgana said, “I’m still at Boscastle. She bought the museum here and I’m helping her update it. We were even talking about having the Druids come in once in a while to give lectures on spirituality and magic. Maybe even sponsor a festival or two. Not that you’d care.”
Maybe that wasn’t all that really mattered. If Morgause was messing with Morgana and drawing her into all that magic rubbish, he would have to have a word or three with his sister about it.
He knew he shouldn’t bring it up just then, but he couldn’t help himself. “The witch museum? Don’t tell me you believe in all that bollocks? Morgana.”
“You only want to hear about things you can see or touch or make sense of, not anything else but you ignore them at your own peril.” She sounded thoroughly annoyed, almost as if she had expected his reaction and yet hoped it would be different this time. Finally, she said, “You want my help or not?”
Sighing, knowing that, later, they’d argue more about Morgause and the museum and Morgana getting involved with witches, nevertheless, Arthur said, “Yes, I want your help. Can you tell me the spring you were talking about? Not that I believe any of it but I’m at my wits end.”
She must have heard the defeat in his voice. “All right. Let me just look at the tides table.” There was a bit of noise, then she came back and said, “I’ll meet you by Merlin’s cave in half an hour.”
At first, he thought she meant that his Merlin had a cave, and she knew all about it, but then he realised she was talking about the English Heritage site, just below Tintagel castle. “There’s no spring there, not in the cave and not on the headland, either. I looked.”
“Well, maybe you need to look again.” He could almost hear the smirk in her voice.
Frowning down at the phone, he said, “Morgana, are you having me on?”
“Just be there,” she said, and hung up.