Title: Ups and downs (Momo 15)
Character/s: Morgana, Mini-Mordred, Merlin
Summary: Mordred is angry. And little.
Word Count: ~450
Prompt: #93 Stubborn
Author's Notes: What am I doing?I don't have time for this! This is a bit rushed, hope it hangs together.
Part 1: Momo
Part 2: Observation
Part 3: Revelation
Part 4: The Hunter
Part 5: The Thief
Part 6: Face to face
Part 7: Retreat and regroup
Part 8: To bare your soul or to sell it
Part 9: So here we are
Part 10: I go la la la
Part 11: Last chance.
Part 12: Arousing supsicion.
Part 13: Closing doors.
Part 14: Arthur gets a phone call (14)
Morgana swore as quietly as she could and it took all that she had not to scream out loud. Mordred was stomping with his little feet squealing in anger, apparently she had done or said something wrong again. God, if the kid would just speak! How could she guess what it was when he refused to speak? She tried to hold on to him, her grocery bags and unlock the door at the same time. Naturally something had to give.
Mordred took of like a screaming banshee down the hall, the bags crashed to the floor and Morgana had to wiggle the key out of the lock before she could run after him. She caught him at by the elevator door. The little boy was frantically pressing the button to open the elevator door and wailed as she caught up with him before he could get inside.
-No, we not going in the elevator again.
She picked up her kicking and screaming offspring and carried him towards the door again. She could feel a trickle of sweat slink down her spine and she just knew the hag in the apartment opposite hers glared at her disapprovingly from behind the door. They had only moved in a week ago, but Morgana already knew the old lady was permanently glued to the peep hole when there was anyone in the hall. But could she ever give a hand to anyone? Oh, noooo.
After the third kick to the shins she put him down and made him face her.
-Listen now. If there's any eggs still whole in the bags, we can make pancakes. Can you go see if we have eggs?
The boy thought about it, nodded and ran to the bags. She let out a breath and shook her head.
The following morning she was woken at ten past six by someone knocking on her door. Outside stood an unfairly awake man looking like he was going somewhere or just gotten back. By his side stood her little son with tear streaked cheeks, wearing pyjamas and winter boots. He started crying hysterically the second he saw her, drowning the man's attempts to explain. She wrapped him in her arms and mouthed a thank you, he gave a smile and a nod and off he went.
A few days later she noticed a small stool tucked in the corner of the elevator and a sticker next to the button with their number on. She smiled and had a feeling this was not Dorothy's work.
Oh alright, one more piece