Finally, the meeting ended with a handshake all around and promises to send signed contracts the next day. Arthur surged up out of his chair and found himself heading for the lift without any clear idea what he was doing. Before he knew it he was sitting in a taxi giving the driver Merlin’s address, which he’d wheedled out of Morgana’s secretary with promises to get her tickets to the next big show and to not tell Morgana anything about this. He wasn’t sure why the last seemed so important.
The car pulled up to Merlin’s building in a slightly seedy part of town. Arthur ignored the ramshackle corner shop and suspicious blokes hanging around outside, passing around something Arthur strongly suspected wasn’t a cigarette, and walked assertively up the front steps. He surveyed the flat buzzers. “Grand Wizard/Young Workers United” read the label to 4D.
Dear god. Arthur sighed and pressed the buzzer.
“Who is it?” said Merlin.
“A tool of the oppressor,” Arthur said.
He heard some static, and then the door buzzed to let him in.
Four floors. He had to walk up four floors to get to Merlin’s flat. No wonder Merlin was so skinny. When he finally made it up to the fourth floor landing, Merlin had the door open already.
“Arthur! What are you doing here?” Merlin looked at him with wide eyes, a rag in his hand.
“Erm , well.” Now that he was here, the surge of need that had initially propelled him came to a grinding halt. Why was he here? Logic didn’t provide an answer. “I just, um, needed to tell you the Castle Keep deal went through.”
“You came all the way here on my day off to tell me that.” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You know, there’s this thing called the telephone, came in early last century, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“I thought it merited a report in person,” Arthur huffed. He inwardly cringed at the ridiculous explanation. But the way Merlin’s eyes twinkled merrily in response was worth it.
“Okay then.” Merlin threw the rag on an easel nearby that Arthur hadn’t noticed before. “Would you like some coffee or tea? Seeing as you came all the way here.” The easel held a painting in bold colours. So Merlin was a painter. Arthur was glad his impetuous little adventure had revealed at least one heretofore unknown fact about Merlin’s life.
Merlin 2/3
The car pulled up to Merlin’s building in a slightly seedy part of town. Arthur ignored the ramshackle corner shop and suspicious blokes hanging around outside, passing around something Arthur strongly suspected wasn’t a cigarette, and walked assertively up the front steps. He surveyed the flat buzzers. “Grand Wizard/Young Workers United” read the label to 4D.
Dear god. Arthur sighed and pressed the buzzer.
“Who is it?” said Merlin.
“A tool of the oppressor,” Arthur said.
He heard some static, and then the door buzzed to let him in.
Four floors. He had to walk up four floors to get to Merlin’s flat. No wonder Merlin was so skinny. When he finally made it up to the fourth floor landing, Merlin had the door open already.
“Arthur! What are you doing here?” Merlin looked at him with wide eyes, a rag in his hand.
“Erm , well.” Now that he was here, the surge of need that had initially propelled him came to a grinding halt. Why was he here? Logic didn’t provide an answer. “I just, um, needed to tell you the Castle Keep deal went through.”
“You came all the way here on my day off to tell me that.” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You know, there’s this thing called the telephone, came in early last century, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“I thought it merited a report in person,” Arthur huffed. He inwardly cringed at the ridiculous explanation. But the way Merlin’s eyes twinkled merrily in response was worth it.
“Okay then.” Merlin threw the rag on an easel nearby that Arthur hadn’t noticed before. “Would you like some coffee or tea? Seeing as you came all the way here.” The easel held a painting in bold colours. So Merlin was a painter. Arthur was glad his impetuous little adventure had revealed at least one heretofore unknown fact about Merlin’s life.