H is for: Handbag (part 1)
Title: H is for Handbag
Author: shutupEccles
Themes: modern Merlin, humour, romance
Pairings mentions of: Morgana/Arthur, Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Morgana/Alvarr, Arthur/Leon, Morgana/Merlin. No it's not an orgy.
Rating: 15+ (17+ for series)
Disclaimer: characters reproduced from BBC reproduction of Arthurian legend, which was allegedly reproduced from alleged historical fact.
Continuity: part 1 of 31
Instalment Summary: Men and handbags are the same to Morgana but her friends don't understand why. Her latest conquest may be more than a snazzy accessory - if he passes the Arthur-test. Preslash
Handbag
Morgana knew precisely why she went through men at the same rate she went through accessories and that she was in no way the extreme predator her friends perceived her to be. Her newest handbag, as her friends termed the men she casually draped over one arm to carry her belongings, was in reality only the third man she'd had sex with but it was easier to leave them ignorant of the truth. Each handbag had a limited lifespan not because Morgana was fickle, but because they were not Arthur.
They had shared a drawn out adolescent flirtation, alternating roles as pursuer and evader before briefly coming together long enough to exchange secret snoggy snuggles without her stepfather, Arthur's father, catching them before the blond youth's attention turned inexorhibly to her friend Guinevere. Just after Morgana realised how deep her affections for him ran, of course. Every male since was thoroughly scrutinized and compared to Arthur and not one of them measured up.
Alvarr had been an exact opposite: bohemian, older, mysterious. There was nothing mysterious about Arthur, he only had two expressions when he tried bullshitting and Morgana learned to see through them long ago. Poor gorgeous dweeb. Alvarr treated her with respect and taught her a lot without demeaning her lack of life experience due to her overly strict step-father. Although Morgana respected him and found him profoundly attractive physically, the emotional connection she craved was not there and she had moved back into the three bedroom house she shared with Arthur, Gwen, and Lancelot while they attended the local university.
When Arthur's engagement to Gwen dissolved in that nasty snarled mess resulting in Gwen leaving with his best friend Lancelot, Morgana and Arthur had 'comforted' each other culminating in a week of mindless angry, yet utterly fantastic sex. In typical Arthur fashion the love of her life apologised for taking advantage, declaring he would take a year off study and wander about a bit to sort himself out. Morgana had been the one pouncing on him like a rabid tiger for heaven's sake and he was apologising! He was too chivalrous to be totally sane and so Morgana pledged to go with him.
"You can't mess up your future trying to fix mine. Try following me and I'll persuade Father you're in moral danger and he'll withdraw your allowance." Then he'd pulled that authoritative face a king would be humbled by and she'd caved.
Before leaving he arranged for Gwen and Lancelot to move back into the house - together - so Morgana wouldn't be lonely and the couple could save some of Lancelot's much-smaller-than-Arthur's income while Gwen finished her last year of uni. Forgiving dweeb.
One year had become two but the stupid little postcards and texts he frequently sent them did not allow her to properly benefit from the physical distance between them. Gwen and Lance moved into a small flat across town once he let them know the definite date when he'd be back and then it was the two of them. Platonic, familial, domestic. Bastard.
Having managed to sell several articles through Pendragon Press and some rivals while travelling, Arthur had given up studying and applied for a permanent position with daddy's publishing empire. After six months working fulltime he confided in Morgana that he was considering entering a relationship with Pendragon's top medical journalist, a volunteer ambulance officer named - Leon.
"Leon? Odd name for a girl."
"Probably because it's a man's name." His hands nursed a hot cup of tea. He had given up alcohol after witnessing something he refused to talk about on his extended holiday.
"As in...Leon's a man..?" WTF? Why did Arthur fancy everyone but her? Well, her and Lancelot she amended.
Arthur nodded with his head at an angle that made him resemble pre-Angelina Jonny Lee Miller, cushy lips pressed tightly together in a grimly hesitant smile, eyebrows raised - how dare he be so adorable as he effectively squished the last dribble of hope from her heart? Morgana pulled a face she had stopped making a decade earlier because Arthur told her it closely resembled a cat’s arse.
"Did I do this to you?"
"What...what? No! Nohh! You were truly, phhpt, fantastic. I'm not...I haven't gone completely against women, you don't suddenly disgust me or anything. No. I'm just so...fascinated by Leon. He's brilliant! Plus he earns loads from his writing but volunteers as an ambo - crappiest hours on the planet for no pay - simply because there's a need and he wants to do it. Who does that? I sure as hell as wouldn't. Plus," his eyes and voice lowered to his tea, "I find him increasingly, ah, physically attractive. It shouldn't matter that he's, male, should it. I mean bodies are just packaging really aren’t they? And his package..."
"Yargh. Enough! I had no idea you were so disgustingly soppy. Urgh, just shut up!"
He'd been rabbiting on like Merlin, that university acquaintance who fancied her sometimes did. Heaven forbid if those two met, it would be nonstop philosophical drivel. Sometimes she felt Gwen had ruined Arthur by making him too soft and squooshy where he used to be a pompous hardarse.
After eventually meeting Leon, who happened to be Gorgeous as well as wonderful, Morgana acknowledged defeat and subsequently got herself thoroughly smashed every night for almost a week. Seeing her come to class utterly wrecked yet again, prompted Merlin to exchange more than their usual casual chitchat.
"Who did this to you? I'll quite happily beat him to death for you."
Morgana looked his slender frame up and down and snorted derisively.
"You won't stay happy once Arthur snaps you in half like a pretzel stick."
"So Arthur's the brute hey? Perfect name for a bully. Come and get something to eat with me. No arguments! You're uselessly shattered and I can't concentrate on anything else seeing you like this."
His affectionate blue eyes and expressive lips conveyed genuine concern rather than the near-vapid adoration or cheeky wit he normally turned her way, so they'd eaten. And talked, and she'd cried while explaining the main problems in her history without mentioning any other names, and Merlin had held her hand across the table and just been so solidly there without trying to make her laugh or offering empty platitudes or anything stupid. After that they'd spent every concurrent break between their different classes together.
Merlin made her smile, and feel loved like Gwen and not just some gilded trophy. So she was a hypocrite, who isn't? Morgana had always known he was clever and a tad funny without knowing him well enough to realise just how sheerly brilliant he was. Merlin's ascerbic observations were regularly spot on hilarious; his friendship sincere; and the way his mind picked up a design brief, looked at it, shuffled it about and arranged it into something astonishingly beautiful was extraordinary. This pale skinny guy had been mooning over her for months and Morgana had been too busy screening Arthur substitutes to hoard the treasure within reach.
Not any more.
Morgana dived into the offered relationship with a double backflip, half twist in pike position without making a splash. Within a month of first sharing a bed - or to be more accurate, an office chair - she invited Merlin home to meet her friends, who had not yet even heard he existed. The intended experiment would serve a double purpose to determine if:
1. Merlin could handle Morgana in her natural environment (which given his twisted perspective and casual kinkiness she didn't really doubt)
2. he would retain this high level of interest when placed in the same room as Arthur.
You see, while Merlin was devastatingly captivating, all it took for Morgana to forget him was Arthur's casually platonic greeting of "Hi Hun" when she walked through the door. He didn't even have to smile at her with those biteable lips or turn his fabulous blue eyes in her direction, just the simple "Hi Hun" in that familiar voice and she was lost again.
But she couldn't leave. He was like a black hole, and just as oblivious. Dweeb.
Morgana had slept - and shagged - at Merlin's place a couple of times - alright several times -but always made some excuse to nick home in the morning: "Oh I forgot [random inanimate object Merlin can't possibly possess] that is positively necessary for [random situation]. I'll meet you later *smooch*"
Just so she could maybe have the slim chance of seeing her obsession's sexily bedraggled self slump across the room yawning "hi Hun" after letting her in because she'd forgotten her keys. Merlin's flat was a great place to 'forget' her keys, so was the glovebox in her car. Sometimes she genuinely misplaced them, which was why she continually got away with making him open the door for her.
God she was pathetic over this man.
Hopefully that was about to change.
part 2
Author: shutupEccles
Themes: modern Merlin, humour, romance
Pairings mentions of: Morgana/Arthur, Arthur/Gwen, Gwen/Lancelot, Morgana/Alvarr, Arthur/Leon, Morgana/Merlin. No it's not an orgy.
Rating: 15+ (17+ for series)
Disclaimer: characters reproduced from BBC reproduction of Arthurian legend, which was allegedly reproduced from alleged historical fact.
Continuity: part 1 of 31
Instalment Summary: Men and handbags are the same to Morgana but her friends don't understand why. Her latest conquest may be more than a snazzy accessory - if he passes the Arthur-test. Preslash
Handbag
Morgana knew precisely why she went through men at the same rate she went through accessories and that she was in no way the extreme predator her friends perceived her to be. Her newest handbag, as her friends termed the men she casually draped over one arm to carry her belongings, was in reality only the third man she'd had sex with but it was easier to leave them ignorant of the truth. Each handbag had a limited lifespan not because Morgana was fickle, but because they were not Arthur.
They had shared a drawn out adolescent flirtation, alternating roles as pursuer and evader before briefly coming together long enough to exchange secret snoggy snuggles without her stepfather, Arthur's father, catching them before the blond youth's attention turned inexorhibly to her friend Guinevere. Just after Morgana realised how deep her affections for him ran, of course. Every male since was thoroughly scrutinized and compared to Arthur and not one of them measured up.
Alvarr had been an exact opposite: bohemian, older, mysterious. There was nothing mysterious about Arthur, he only had two expressions when he tried bullshitting and Morgana learned to see through them long ago. Poor gorgeous dweeb. Alvarr treated her with respect and taught her a lot without demeaning her lack of life experience due to her overly strict step-father. Although Morgana respected him and found him profoundly attractive physically, the emotional connection she craved was not there and she had moved back into the three bedroom house she shared with Arthur, Gwen, and Lancelot while they attended the local university.
When Arthur's engagement to Gwen dissolved in that nasty snarled mess resulting in Gwen leaving with his best friend Lancelot, Morgana and Arthur had 'comforted' each other culminating in a week of mindless angry, yet utterly fantastic sex. In typical Arthur fashion the love of her life apologised for taking advantage, declaring he would take a year off study and wander about a bit to sort himself out. Morgana had been the one pouncing on him like a rabid tiger for heaven's sake and he was apologising! He was too chivalrous to be totally sane and so Morgana pledged to go with him.
"You can't mess up your future trying to fix mine. Try following me and I'll persuade Father you're in moral danger and he'll withdraw your allowance." Then he'd pulled that authoritative face a king would be humbled by and she'd caved.
Before leaving he arranged for Gwen and Lancelot to move back into the house - together - so Morgana wouldn't be lonely and the couple could save some of Lancelot's much-smaller-than-Arthur's income while Gwen finished her last year of uni. Forgiving dweeb.
One year had become two but the stupid little postcards and texts he frequently sent them did not allow her to properly benefit from the physical distance between them. Gwen and Lance moved into a small flat across town once he let them know the definite date when he'd be back and then it was the two of them. Platonic, familial, domestic. Bastard.
Having managed to sell several articles through Pendragon Press and some rivals while travelling, Arthur had given up studying and applied for a permanent position with daddy's publishing empire. After six months working fulltime he confided in Morgana that he was considering entering a relationship with Pendragon's top medical journalist, a volunteer ambulance officer named - Leon.
"Leon? Odd name for a girl."
"Probably because it's a man's name." His hands nursed a hot cup of tea. He had given up alcohol after witnessing something he refused to talk about on his extended holiday.
"As in...Leon's a man..?" WTF? Why did Arthur fancy everyone but her? Well, her and Lancelot she amended.
Arthur nodded with his head at an angle that made him resemble pre-Angelina Jonny Lee Miller, cushy lips pressed tightly together in a grimly hesitant smile, eyebrows raised - how dare he be so adorable as he effectively squished the last dribble of hope from her heart? Morgana pulled a face she had stopped making a decade earlier because Arthur told her it closely resembled a cat’s arse.
"Did I do this to you?"
"What...what? No! Nohh! You were truly, phhpt, fantastic. I'm not...I haven't gone completely against women, you don't suddenly disgust me or anything. No. I'm just so...fascinated by Leon. He's brilliant! Plus he earns loads from his writing but volunteers as an ambo - crappiest hours on the planet for no pay - simply because there's a need and he wants to do it. Who does that? I sure as hell as wouldn't. Plus," his eyes and voice lowered to his tea, "I find him increasingly, ah, physically attractive. It shouldn't matter that he's, male, should it. I mean bodies are just packaging really aren’t they? And his package..."
"Yargh. Enough! I had no idea you were so disgustingly soppy. Urgh, just shut up!"
He'd been rabbiting on like Merlin, that university acquaintance who fancied her sometimes did. Heaven forbid if those two met, it would be nonstop philosophical drivel. Sometimes she felt Gwen had ruined Arthur by making him too soft and squooshy where he used to be a pompous hardarse.
After eventually meeting Leon, who happened to be Gorgeous as well as wonderful, Morgana acknowledged defeat and subsequently got herself thoroughly smashed every night for almost a week. Seeing her come to class utterly wrecked yet again, prompted Merlin to exchange more than their usual casual chitchat.
"Who did this to you? I'll quite happily beat him to death for you."
Morgana looked his slender frame up and down and snorted derisively.
"You won't stay happy once Arthur snaps you in half like a pretzel stick."
"So Arthur's the brute hey? Perfect name for a bully. Come and get something to eat with me. No arguments! You're uselessly shattered and I can't concentrate on anything else seeing you like this."
His affectionate blue eyes and expressive lips conveyed genuine concern rather than the near-vapid adoration or cheeky wit he normally turned her way, so they'd eaten. And talked, and she'd cried while explaining the main problems in her history without mentioning any other names, and Merlin had held her hand across the table and just been so solidly there without trying to make her laugh or offering empty platitudes or anything stupid. After that they'd spent every concurrent break between their different classes together.
Merlin made her smile, and feel loved like Gwen and not just some gilded trophy. So she was a hypocrite, who isn't? Morgana had always known he was clever and a tad funny without knowing him well enough to realise just how sheerly brilliant he was. Merlin's ascerbic observations were regularly spot on hilarious; his friendship sincere; and the way his mind picked up a design brief, looked at it, shuffled it about and arranged it into something astonishingly beautiful was extraordinary. This pale skinny guy had been mooning over her for months and Morgana had been too busy screening Arthur substitutes to hoard the treasure within reach.
Not any more.
Morgana dived into the offered relationship with a double backflip, half twist in pike position without making a splash. Within a month of first sharing a bed - or to be more accurate, an office chair - she invited Merlin home to meet her friends, who had not yet even heard he existed. The intended experiment would serve a double purpose to determine if:
1. Merlin could handle Morgana in her natural environment (which given his twisted perspective and casual kinkiness she didn't really doubt)
2. he would retain this high level of interest when placed in the same room as Arthur.
You see, while Merlin was devastatingly captivating, all it took for Morgana to forget him was Arthur's casually platonic greeting of "Hi Hun" when she walked through the door. He didn't even have to smile at her with those biteable lips or turn his fabulous blue eyes in her direction, just the simple "Hi Hun" in that familiar voice and she was lost again.
But she couldn't leave. He was like a black hole, and just as oblivious. Dweeb.
Morgana had slept - and shagged - at Merlin's place a couple of times - alright several times -but always made some excuse to nick home in the morning: "Oh I forgot [random inanimate object Merlin can't possibly possess] that is positively necessary for [random situation]. I'll meet you later *smooch*"
Just so she could maybe have the slim chance of seeing her obsession's sexily bedraggled self slump across the room yawning "hi Hun" after letting her in because she'd forgotten her keys. Merlin's flat was a great place to 'forget' her keys, so was the glovebox in her car. Sometimes she genuinely misplaced them, which was why she continually got away with making him open the door for her.
God she was pathetic over this man.
Hopefully that was about to change.
part 2