rosie_rues: (Default)
[personal profile] rosie_rues
Title: Were You Up for Pendragon?
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Words: 2840
Warning: There are probably bits of this that only make sense if you're British.
Disclaimer: I do not own this variation of the characters, and have no intention of profiting from this fic.
Summary: Sequel to Shake Your Windows and Rattle Your Walls. Election Night, 1997, and there's only one Tory that Merlin wants to keep his seat.
Notes: The Portillo Moment, for non-Brits and non-politicos. Labour under Tony Blair swept to a landslide victory in 1997, ousting the Conservatives, who had been in power since 1979. And, yeah, there should be more of this, but I've run out of weekend, and this bit stands alone.



Oxford: May 1997

On election night, they all cram into the SCR and roar approval at every Labour victory. Merlin heckles David Mellor and James Goldsmith simultaneously and bellows louder than the undergrads when Labour conquers over Rifkind and the Lib Dems beat out Lamont. He's been waiting for this since 1979, and finally his party are rolling home (although, he has to admit, they aren't really his party any more, this New Labour and their slithery, too-charming leader).

There is only one Tory he wants to hold his seat, and Arthur has been around as long as the Tories have been in power, Junior Minister and Secretary of Energy and, later, of Defence. He's survived the Brighton bombing, the Poll Tax and Black Wednesday, the smug bastard. He's even outlasted Thatcher. He's a fixture.

The SCR is cozy, the heating turned up too high, and Merlin appoints himself bartender and is generous with the stash they' requisitioned from the college cellar. Everyone's here, physicists and early medievalists and geneticists, even Elena, the cheerful American literary theorist they appointed last year who still doesn't understand the swingometer and why everyone keeps cheering when it appears on screen.

“If it goes more than three points either way, you pour yourself another drink,” Merlin tells her in the end, beaming his most guileless smile her way. She knows she thinks of him as that sweet old classicist, and wonders if he can keep the con up long enough to get her naked before they have a new government.

(“Good God,” Arthur said over the phone yesterday, when Merlin confided that plan to distract him from exit polls, “are you still working on your knicker collection? I'm not doing the divorce paperwork this time.”

“I don't need to marry them to get into their knickers,” Merlin retorted, with as much indignation as he could pour on.

“Liberal slut,” Arthur accused and Merlin could hear the sudden high-pitched wail of a publicist somewhere behind him.

“Thatcherite scum,” he retorted, glancing out of his window at the old quad, where Lib Dem and Labour posters were hanging out of fourteenth-century windows like red and yellow Christmas decorations, punctuated by the odd defiant scraps of blue and green. “Do you even know how to get to the Opposition benches?”

“I won't ever need to,” Arthur informed him, and Merlin could imagine him so clearly, leaning against his office wall as people swirled around him, eyes tired but head lifted. “Damn, they want me on the bus. Why's my constituency so frigging far from London?”

“Your constituency, which elects you,” Merlin reminded him, “is barely outside the home counties. People commute from there. Sure you don't want me there? I can still get Cedric to organise the sweepstake.”

“He'd cheat you all. No, we've got enough greasy socialists littering up the halls already. I'll talk to you on the other side.”

“Good luck,” Merlin said cheerfully.

He heard Arthur snort as he hung up and laughed as he went back to his desk. He had an article to review and a lecture to prepare on the reception of Aristotle through the ages. He wasn't going to worry about Arthur).

There is a sudden howl of, “Scoooootland!” from outside, though he isn't sure if it's in triumph or dismay.

Behind him, Morgause grumbles, “And these are the best minds of a generation.”

“Destroyed by madness,” Merlin agrees solemnly. “Starving, hysterical, naked-”

“You don't fool me, stooge of the patriarchy,” Morgause hisses, glowering at him. “Also, your boyfriend's on the telly.”

“He's not-” Merlin protests, but she's already slinking away towards the bar as if it's a battle front to be overwhelmed (and he's seen Morgause work through a drinks' reception and so thinks the simile isn't entirely overdone). Sighing, he settles back into the bulging armchair and watches as the BBC go to Albion South. The problem is that Morgause's digs sting because there's some truth in them. Merlin's been pretty much in love with Arthur for years now, since at least the end of his first marriage, when Nimueh's screaming analysis of their friendship was almost as startling as the wok she threw at his head (he probably shouldn't have started sleeping with her grad students as well as his own).

Arthur's stuck around longer than either of his wives, and is far more compelling company, if Merlin's honest about it. He's always liked the women in his life, but they've never meant what Arthur does – pompous, reactionary Tory scumbag of an honourable man that he is. Arthur is Arthur, and everyone fades into shadows around him, and they always have done.

Arthur's climbing up onto the stage now, looking subdued and awkward as he always does at this point. Standing in his smartest, most boring suit between a man dressed as a giant chicken and a intense-eyed brunette sporting a red rose the size of her fist on her lapel, he gives off the impression that he'd rather be anywhere else. It will change when he comes forward to make his speech, Merlin knows, because that's when Arthur comes alive and everyone thrills to his energy and purpose. It makes Merlin breathless watching him, even though he disagrees with every single piece of policy Arthur puts forward.

Adams, Patrick James, Monster Raving Loony Party, gets three hundred and five votes and lifts his feathery arms in triumph. Merlin sees Arthur's lip twitch. The Lib Dem does respectably, but Aredian-something from the Referendum party won't be getting his deposit back.

“Pendragon, Arthur Tristan,” the Returning Officer announces. “Conservative Party, nineteen-thousand, two hundred and sixteen.”

There's a smatter of uncertain applause and a sudden murmur of interest from the room behind him, and Merlin starts adding up frantically on his fingers. That's lower than it should be, much, much lower.

“Simmons, Elizabeth Jane, Christian Democrat Party, one hundred and thirty two.”

A single cheer from the back of the hall on screen, and Morgause takes a sharp breath behind him and lays her hand on his shoulder. Merlin's still trying to get the numbers clear in his head.

“Walsh, Anna Mordred, Labour Party, twenty thous-”

On screen and behind him, cheers drown out the rest of the count. Morgause is squeezing his shoulder so hard he can feel her nails biting down, and Merlin's got his hands in his hair, staring as the camera zooms in slowly on Arthur's face.

Arthur doesn't look surprised, just shakes hands with the chicken and kisses the- the child who's defeated him on the cheek when she comes to shake his hand.

She makes a pretty victory speech, but Merlin doesn't hear it. He takes in bits of Arthur's, the grave courtesy of his thanks and congratulations, the steadiness with which he speaks of the future of his party, his regrets that he won't be there to help them.

“He never hinted-” Merlin breathes up at Morgause.

“You've seen the polls, Emrys,” she tells him tartly, but there's compassion in her fierce eyes.

The BBC cuts away to somewhere in South Wales, and Merlin tries to breathe and thinks, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur.

Arthur just lost an election and, glancing around to check nobody's watching, Merlin surreptitiously pinches himself.

It hurts, but that's not necessarily proof that this isn't a dream, is it?

There's a lull in announcements, and they go back to the studio for pundits to blather about landslides and stunning defeats. Then suddenly, they switch again and Arthur's standing in front of a breeze-block wall and smiling stiffly at a microphone.

The reporter is blathering on, but Merlin's not listening. He's studying the set of Arthur's shoulders, the corner of his mouth, the lines at the corners of his eyes, and the more he looks, the more convinced he is that Arthur was expecting this.

“-your leadership ambitions,” the reporter says.

Arthur gives her a practised smile and says something about offering the party his full support.

“And I know it's early to be asking this, but do you know yet whether you'll be running again in the future?”

Arthur's shoulders lift a little, and his smile is more honest than it's ever been in public. Merlin yells, “Shut up!” at the conga line developing behind him and snatches the remote from the hand of an octogenarian theologian so he can turn the volume right up.

“I won't be seeking re-election, no,” Arthur says, the speakers dancing a little on top of the cabinet as his voice crackles and booms. “I see this as the end of my parliamentary career.”

Oh, no, no, no!” Merlin shrieks at the telly as Arthur starts in on issue politics. “Even you are not that big a moron! Don't mention global warming! Or Europe!”

But Arthur's laying on the charm, at least until the reporter asks, “You've been in parliament for a long time, Mr Pendragon.”

“Eighteen years,” Arthur agrees.

“Any worries about how the change is going to effect you on a personal level?”

“It's certainly going to be nice to have a personal life after all this time,” Arthur replies smoothly, but Merlin can see the sudden tension in his stance. Back in 1974, Arthur and Morgana actually came to blows over whether the personal should ever be political, and Merlin hadn't been the only one to flee that dinner party with trifle in his hair.

“Any specific plans?” asks the nosy cow behind the microphone.

“Not as yet,” Arthur says, but then hesitates. Then he smiles, and in a flash he seems twenty years younger, some great weight lifting off his shoulders. Merlin knows what that smile means, has seen it a handful of times before. He knows, deep in his gut, that Arthur's about to do something stupendously, spectacularly reckless and probably idiotically glorious.

He's right.

Because that's when Arthur Pendragon comes out on live national television.


#



Twenty minutes later, Merlin finally gets through to someone at Arthur's constituency office. They pass him to Morgana, which is unexpected, given she's working for the other side.

“What the hell just happened?” Merlin demands anyway. His hands are still shaking and his brain's generating a constant, rather squeaky background loop of Arthur's gay. Arthur's gay. Oh, God, Arthur's actually gay.

“I can't hear you!” she screams down the line. It sounds as if she's in the middle of a riot or a rave. “Merlin, is that you?”

“I want to talk to Arthur,” he bellows.

There's a sudden click and the noise level at Morgana's end dies down considerably. “The press have gone insane,” she informs him. “I think they're about to start eating each other.”

“Where's Arthur? What happened? What are you doing there?”

“Everyone's here,” she says. “We only booked the local pub for Anna's victory do. We weren't expecting anything like this, so when Arthur disappeared his people agreed to just move everyone back here.”

“Disappeared?” Merlin repeats.

“That's why I couldn't talk to you out in the corridor. The press don't know. He just finished his interview and walked out. Didn't bother informing any of his concerned friends about where he planned to-” She's interrupted by a sudden clatter. “Damn, drawing pins.”

“Where are you?” Merlin says. “More importantly, where's Arthur?

“I don't know, Merlin. And I'm in the stationery cupboard, so if we get cut off it's because the cable's finally come out of the this cheap piece of shit phone which won't come off the damn wall outside.”

“Do you need me there?” he asks. “I can drive up, or get someone to drive me, because I'm probably too pissed to be behind the wheel-”

“Stay where you are. I'll contact you. There's already too many people in this-”

The noise level suddenly rises again and a clamour of voices start shrieking, “Morgana, Morgana!”

“No comment, I said!” Morgana snarls. Then she hangs up and Merlin is left with his ears still ringing.

For lack of anything better to do, he goes back to the SCR. The numbers are thinning now, and some of those left are asleep. He watches the country swing red, victory after victory falling into place, and if he wasn't so worried he'd be ecstatic.

Blair returns to London and is greeted like a pop star. In the BBC studios, the pundits are heavy-eyed, their voices slowing, though they're still talking about Arthur.

“There have been persistent rumours about his sexuality,” someone's saying, and Merlin thinks indignantly No one told me!

“We'll have to wait and see if the Pendragon camp try to play this down tomorrow.”

“I really don't see how they can at this point, Oliver. His statement was pretty-”

“I'm sorry to interrupt you, folks, but we're going over to Conservative Headquarters, where John Major is about to make a statement.”

Merlin's always considered Major to be a dreary Kermit-lookalike, but he suddenly warms to him now. He's developing an entirely new appreciation for the dignity of defeat, he decides, one that's pure and aesthetic and noble and has nothing to do with the heroic set of Arthur's shoulders.

Morgause takes the glass out of his hand before he tips weak gin-and-tonic into his lap. She then calls him pathetic and emasculated, but that's affectionate from her, so he just grins up and asks plaintively, “Why didn't anyone tell me?”

“We thought you knew,” she says and pats him on the head in a disturbingly maternal way for a geneticist. “Stop using alcohol as a prop to escape your own inadequacies.”

“I wouldn't sleep with his grad students,” he tells her. “If he had any, which he doesn't, so I suppose it doesn't matter. And if he wanted to go to Greenham Common and camp in the mud, I'd go with him and I wouldn't write a single poem about spousal abandonment or have sex with his sister when the divorce papers arrived.”

“Good God,” she mutters, and actually brings him coffee and hobnobs and then crouches down to stare at him as if he's a particularly anomalous mutation of fruit fly.

He dozes off for a while then, and dreams about Arthur, years ago when they were young and brash and immortal. It's only as he wakes up that he realises that Arthur was always tense, even then, always locking something inside. He'd thought it was just Arthur, just his honour and ambition and the horror that was his relationship with his father.

Arthur needs to be okay. The world isn't fair, he knows now, but it's got some justice in it. Arthur deserves to be okay.

One of the night porters is at the door, saying, “Dr Emrys, there's a man in the lodge who says he has to see you.”

Merlin runs, stumbling over his own feet and the Keep Off the Grass sign in the middle of the quad. When he bursts into the lodge, Arthur is leaning against the counter, still in his suit, though he's lost his tie somewhere and his hair's on end.

“Finally,” he says, rolling his eyes as if he's been waiting all night.

“But- what- you-” Merlin stammers.

“And they made you a fellow,” Arthur remarks with a shudder. “Education system's going down the drain.”

“Fault of a Tory government,” Merlin says automatically. “What are you doing here? Morgana's hiding from the press in the stationery cupboard.”

“She loves it,” Arthur says and pushes himself off the side. He stalks along the length of the lodge, and that reckless grin is back on his face. Merlin honestly has no idea what's coming until Arthur grabs him by the lapels and drags him into a hard and desperate kiss.

Arthur's mouth is pressing his open, a little too forceful, and his hands are fisted in Merlin's jacket. He's rough with stubble and tastes like stale coffee, breath gusting into Merlin's mouth in little chokes of desperation, and within seconds Merlin's forgotten everything but Arthur, who isn't lost, hasn't disappeared, but is right here, with him, and who he's never ever going to let go again.

When Arthur finally breaks the kiss, Merlin's head is spinning, and he doesn't think it's from the gin.

“Thank God,” Arthur says distinctly, but his eyes are wild. “I've been waiting to do that since 1964.”

“We met in 1964,” Merlin says, feeling Arthur's hands shaking against his chest.

“You're such a moron,” Arthur says, his face a mess of affection and condescension.

Merlin's mouth falls open, and Arthur kisses him again, tender and exhausted and triumphant in defeat.

Page 1 of 2 << [1] [2] >>

Date: 2011-01-16 09:53 pm (UTC)
such_heights: amy and rory looking at a pile of post (Default)
From: [personal profile] such_heights
asdkjas;ldkja eee!

I mean, ahem. This is an excellent piece of writing, yes. *quietly squeaks some more*

:D

Date: 2011-01-16 10:09 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
*grins* I had this in my head as soon as I finished the first one. It just had to be written.

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] tetsubinatu.livejournal.com - Date: 2011-01-16 10:12 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com - Date: 2011-01-16 11:13 pm (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2011-01-16 09:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] copa-cetic.livejournal.com
I love this. Poor Arthur--waiting more than 30 years--but their first kiss was beautiful, and Merlin's love for Arthur shines through here.

Date: 2011-01-16 10:11 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Default)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I couldn't get a clear read on Merlin's feelings in the first one, so it made sense to switch pov in this one so I could get the balance.

Glad you liked it (and thank you for the rec on the first one - you're too kind to me *hugs*)

Date: 2011-01-16 09:58 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] katyjo.livejournal.com
... and now I feel better! Poor old repressed Arthur. Glad he got it straight (or, rather, not) in the end.

Also, love Morgana in the stationary cupboard.

Ah, memories on 1997, when everything seemed possible.

Damn, now I'm depressed again.

Date: 2011-01-16 10:14 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Default)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I'm kind of craving an election now. I watched that Portillo clip about ten times while I was writing this and it's extraordinary from every angle each time.

*grins* Morgana and Morgause were both great fun to write in this.

Date: 2011-01-16 10:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] archaeologist-d.livejournal.com
Oh, thank you so much! I was so depressed after reading the previous piece (wonderful though it was) and am so very happy that you wrote this. Loved it. Loved the tension and how Merlin had wanted Arthur and loved that Arthur told him how long he'd wanted Merlin. Just loved it.

Date: 2011-01-16 10:17 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I was depressed after I wrote it too. Luckily this appeared in my head as soon as I'd finished it, and was just as fun to write.

Thanks for commenting :)

Date: 2011-01-16 10:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sighnomore.livejournal.com
Wonderful <3 *happy sigh*

I loved Morgana in the cupboard btw XD

Date: 2011-01-16 10:19 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
*grins* I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Date: 2011-01-16 10:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lachatblanche.livejournal.com
*melts* Glorious, just glorious.

I LOVE THIS 'VERSE!!!

Fantastic stuff! I'm glad that Arthur can finally show his feelings for Merlin (who is just BRILLIANT by the way!!) xx

Date: 2011-01-16 11:14 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you. I like writing AUs with sharp edges, and this one just grabbed me yesterday morning and wouldn't let go until I'd written two fics.

Date: 2011-01-16 11:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] riventhorn.livejournal.com
Oh, yay! Yay!!! This sequel makes me so happy! :) And I really, really love the fact that Arthur's middle name is "Tristan." I don't think I've ever seen him given a middle name before in a fic, and that's just perfect. And the kiss at the end--also perfect!

Date: 2011-01-16 11:17 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I needed a middle name to make the results scene flow properly and it made sense that he'd be called after his uncle.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've had such fun writing these this weekend.

Date: 2011-01-17 12:27 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] reveuse2.livejournal.com
OMG, sex, politics, Arthur & Merlin AND a Labour landslide. How could I not adore this even more than your first installment? I need more of this universe, if only to get me through days working for an NDPB that's being slashed to hell by the Tories...ahem,sorry...*Coalition*. :)

Date: 2011-01-17 07:11 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
After having the times a-changing in the first one, the sheer excitement of 1997 seemed like the perfect bookend. And once I'd set Arthur up as a Tory with ambitions in 1964, this was the obvious point of transformation.
(deleted comment)

Date: 2011-01-17 07:17 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Default)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I'm glad you enjoyed it. I had to follow up the first piece, even though it felt complete. This was one of those bits which just wrote itself.

Date: 2011-01-17 01:01 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hakasha.livejournal.com
yes, yes, yes! yay, Arthur! *ridiculously happy*

Date: 2011-01-17 07:17 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
^___^ Thank you.

Date: 2011-01-17 01:16 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] snottygrrl.livejournal.com
am so happy to see this :D

it's heartbreaking that they had to wait so long, but gloriously arthur to come out like that ♥

i love the detail of this and merlin missing it and everyone else knowing

[*flails*]

Date: 2011-01-17 07:18 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :) I had to fix things after the first one, and it's Arthur, so it had to be a great big gesture.

Date: 2011-01-17 01:29 am (UTC)

Date: 2011-01-17 07:22 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Gwen)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
^__^ Thanks.

Date: 2011-01-17 01:45 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] quarterwhore.livejournal.com
Basically, I just researched Portillo and Twigg like none other, and am looking into the book "Were You Still Up for Portillo?" and it's kind of your fault. This was so lovely, and I adore Arthur's reaction here, like a weight has been lifted... the drama and tension is wonderful, especially considering that this isn't very long. Well done!

Date: 2011-01-17 07:27 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
*grins* My inner politics geek is dancing about gleefully. The 1997 election was the first one I was really aware of, and I can remember everyone's reactions to that result - it was such a symbol of Labour's victory and it just got branded into the political consciousness. I stumbled across a recent interview with Portillo where he said that his first reaction actually was relief, because he knew that his party would lose the next election too and didn't want to be the one who led them to their next defeat.

Elections are just an instant way to infuse a story with excitement. I'm glad you liked this :)

Date: 2011-01-17 02:56 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] stagarden.livejournal.com
Lovely! Just lovely! The first part was so very sad, but this follow up works well and doesn't feel at all forced.

Date: 2011-01-17 07:27 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you. The first piece was complete in itself, but I knew it needed a sequel as soon as I finished it.

Date: 2011-01-17 03:33 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bert-hardy.livejournal.com
AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW.

ahem

awwwwwwwwwwwww

Date: 2011-01-17 07:28 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
^___^ Thank you.

Date: 2011-01-17 03:40 am (UTC)
venivincere: (Default)
From: [personal profile] venivincere
This story and the one that comes before it -- are there any words that mean better than brilliant? Shocking and amazing and are you in your mid-sixties that you remember Oxford in 1965? It's like you were there, like everything I've ever read about it, but so very lush and real in so few words. And then this story, the election; I remember that, it made the news in the States, even, the New York Times was awash in articles about it. I think my heart stitched itself back together spontaneously when the night porter announces a man in the lodge. I wait with bated breath the next instalment. You're genius at this. I'm blown away.

Date: 2011-01-17 07:31 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
*giggles* My Oxford days were a couple of years after this second piece, but some things about the place really are timeless, cliche though it is.

1997 was the most exciting British election for years - those of us who were just hitting our late teens were completely spoilt for any future elections after that!

I'm glad you liked it. Thank you for the lovely comment :)

Date: 2011-01-17 06:28 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starlollie.livejournal.com
It breaks my heart that they had to wait but that is a seriously happy ending. So excitement filled!! :)

Date: 2011-01-17 07:33 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

Date: 2011-01-17 09:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] karmicunderpath.livejournal.com
IM SO HAPPY YOU WROTE THIS, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. ANY FUTURE TIME STAMPS IN THIS VERSE WOULD NOT ONLY BE WELCOMED, BUT ENCOURAGED. ♥

Date: 2011-01-17 07:34 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I'm glad you enjoyed it so much :) I do desperately want to write more but I'm not sure how I'm going to manage it without the use of a timeturner, so no promises.

Date: 2011-01-17 09:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] lady-drose-sd.livejournal.com
Wow, you made it, you put together a beautiful sequel to that masterpiece you show us the other day.

I loved every word of it.

Merlin as a slut was the cherry on top of the cake!!! Really, thinking of him as a womanizer cracks me up!

BTW, me loves Morgause and Morgana in this.

Date: 2011-01-17 09:47 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :)

I couldn't resist making him a philandering professor. Suffering through years of celibacy is Arthur's style; Merlin's more gregarious.

*laughs* i hadn't planned on having Morgause appear in this, certainly not as a don, but she inserted herself and refused to be removed.

Date: 2011-01-17 09:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] giselleslash.livejournal.com
What a fantastic follow-up. I loved them both so much in these; Arthur in the first part, all stoic and determined to ignore his heart and focus on his ambition instead, and Merlin in this part, all womanizing and boisterous and oblivious.

Ugh. Loved it SO MUCH ♥

Date: 2011-01-17 09:49 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Arthur)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :) It was interesting to try and imagine them as middle-aged, especially Merlin.

Date: 2011-01-17 10:46 pm (UTC)
kathyh: (Kathyh Merlin M&A2)
From: [personal profile] kathyh
I utterly adored this. After Arthur's self-denial in the first one this felt like a well-deserved happy ending even after so many years. I loved the whole atmosphere of it with the drinking and the celebrating and Morgana in the stationery cupboard. Seeing it all through Merlin's eyes this time worked brilliantly and this "Arthur is Arthur, and everyone fades into shadows around him, and they always have done." is just the perfect description. Thanks so much for this ♥

Date: 2011-01-17 11:02 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you. The first one was complete in itself, but I knew as soon as I finished it that it needed a sequel, and that it needed to be frantic where the first was calm. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Date: 2011-01-18 12:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sallyna-smile.livejournal.com
yay sequelll *.*
loved it!!

Date: 2011-01-18 12:14 am (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :)

Date: 2011-01-18 12:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] zephre.livejournal.com
beautiful tale, especially fulfilling after the earlier story. Wonderful to see them together at last!

Date: 2011-01-18 09:13 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: (Default)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :) I had to write them a happy ending after that first one.

Date: 2011-01-18 01:36 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] owltrageous.livejournal.com
I kind of want to just keysmash as a reaction to this because I can't think of an eloquent way to say how much I loved these 2 stories. I am in love with this world you've created for them and could have seriously read an entire novel about them here. This was a perfect ending to their story though. Just lovely, thank you <3

Date: 2011-01-18 09:16 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Morgana in Ealdor (Morgana)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
I'm glad you liked them :) I kind of want to go and fill in all the gaps in the story.

Date: 2011-01-18 09:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] bananahater336.livejournal.com
God, this was delicious. I love slutty!Merlin as someone who's never been faithful to his wives because he's never felt the way he should for them. The whole tangent about all the things he wouldn't do to Arthur was so sweet, and I love the background given here, and when and how this takes place. The fact that Arthur comes out once he decides his political career is over is so realistic and I love that everyone seemed to know except Merlin. And this:
“Thank God,” Arthur says distinctly, but his eyes are wild. “I've been waiting to do that since 1964.”

“We met in 1964,” Merlin says, feeling Arthur's hands shaking against his chest.

“You're such a moron,” Arthur says, his face a mess of affection and condescension.


Guhhh. Arthur! <333

Date: 2011-01-18 09:23 pm (UTC)
ext_50422: Merlin waiting for the boat to the Isle of the Blessed, with added sparklies (Merlin)
From: [identity profile] rosemaryandrue.livejournal.com
Thank you :) I can see Arthur being really restrained about relationships in this situation but I think Merlin would just bumble on and get on with people and find himself in the middle of serious relationships without ever really reflecting on it. Whereas he has different rules in his head for Arthur.

Yeah, it was pretty much career suicide for a conservative politician back then.

*smiles* I'm glad you enjoyed it.
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