Morrigan felt the realization settle like a stone in her stomach. Merlin. She'd talked. Actually talked. Not deflected. Not lied. Not turned everything into a joke. She'd simply... answered him. The thought alone was enough to make her want to pour herself another whiskey. Instead, she reached for a...

Morrigan followed his gaze toward the shelves. For a heartbeat, she simply watched the tiny enchanted vessels cutting across their miniature seas. Their sails caught invisible winds, lanterns glowed softly against painted waves, and every so often one would dip beneath an illusion of sea mist before...

Morrigan listened without interrupting. Which, for anyone who knew her, was remarkable in itself. Her fingers moved automatically, collecting abandoned glasses and wiping down a stretch of polished oak that had already been cleaned twice this evening. The work occupied her hands while her attention ...

Morrigan gave Fergus a look that promised retaliation at a later date. The old wizard merely grinned into his pint. Traitor. Her attention drifted back to Aidan as he posed his question, and she couldn't help the quiet snort that escaped her. "Kind?" She said it as though he'd suggested sh...

His answer wasn't what she'd expected. Most people, when reminded of an old life, flinched. Some denied it. Others grew defensive. Aidan simply... accepted it. Matter-of-fact. As though the ghosts followed him because that was simply the price he'd paid for becoming the man he was now. Interesting. ...

Morrigan "Red" Devlin's Threads

In Progress

• The Devil's Trill - with Aidan Blackwood

Completed

• (nil)

Friend. The word landed somewhere behind Morrigan's ribs with all the subtlety of a Bludger. Friend. Not patient. Not former patient. Not obligation. Friend. Well… That simply wouldn't do. Before she realized she was doing it, something old and ugly unfurled inside her chest. An instinct she'd perfe...

A soft scoff escaped her before she could stop it. "You ask that like you don't already know." Morrigan rolled the whiskey bottle between her palms before setting it back beneath the counter. She busied herself wiping away a ring of condensation that didn't really need wiping, her eyes fix...

Morrigan snorted softly. "Oh, I know you'd keep talking." She leaned an elbow against the bar, regarding him over the rim of her own glass. "You've made an entire career out of asking questions people would rather avoid." The words came easily, almost automatically, but they lack...

Morrigan didn't look up immediately. She reached for the bottle of Irish whiskey on the shelf behind her instead, taking just enough time to make it seem as though his request had been filed somewhere beneath polishing glasses, settling tabs, and pretending he wasn't standing three feet away wearing...

The final note lingered in the air long after the bow left the strings. For a moment, the tavern was unusually quiet. Not silent, The Last Port was never truly silent but quieter than normal. Conversations had softened while she'd played, tankards had paused halfway to lips, and even the old wizard ...

Name: The Last Port Location: Hogsmeade Type of establishment: Tavern Business hours: Opens mid afternoon and closes just before dawn Exterior description: Nestled near the edge of Hogsmeade, slightly removed from the busier thoroughfares and tourist traffic, sits The Last Port Tavern. The building...

Basics -Will add image later- Full Name: Morrigan Devlin Nicknames: Red, The Red Devil Age: 30 Birthdate: October 13, 1975 Profession: Proprietor of The Last Port, a pub in Hogsmeade Personality: Morrigan is a woman of extremes. Fiercely loyal, brutally honest, and stubborn enough to argue with a w...