WHO Morgan OT Aisling WHAT A chat between two fae. WHERE Rosewood Manor WHEN Monday, August 29, 2016 ~9:45am (BACKDATED) WARNINGS Angst? Does that count as a warning? :P
In two days, it would be September. The cusp of Autumn was approaching and Morgan could feel it in the air. It wasn't exactly cool, but the disparaging humidity of the summer was lessening with every passing week; Less intolerable and more like something that didn't make you want to melt into a puddle the moment you stepped outside. Which was a relief to the Hellhound, who often wore three-piece suits so as to blend in at Aurora's side, so to speak. That morning he had donned a light-gray one to counteract the heat, not that there was a lot of it at seven in the morning as he had breakfast with Aurora.
Typically, Morgan ate whatever was prepared by the kitchen staff which sometimes consisted of breakfast foods he enjoyed (picked up by the staff as they got to know Aurora, Morgan, and the other guards). That morning, however, the Hellhound had made a request knowing they always had plenty of apples on hand and asked if it wouldn't be too much trouble for an apple tart to be made. Oh, no trouble at all, Mr. Morgan! And the guard was over the moon when they were served with the smoked salmon eggs benedict along with other fresh fruit, yogurt, toast, and mimosas. To show his appreciation, Morgan extolled on the tart. It was the perfect balance between sweet and tart, and it wasn't too crisp or too unpleasantly mushy. The tart was so good, Morgan almost didn't want anything else for breakfast, but the staff had prepared such a wonderful meal that the Hellhound did not want to be rude by ignoring the rest of the food on the table.
The tart had such a lasting impression on the Morgan, that he feared he was either boring Aurora or annoying her with the praise when he finally said a last few compliments and returned to his monosyllabic self on the short drive over to Flynnwood's estate. Morgan, occasionally, could not help himself when it came to apples. There were simply too many happy memories involving his family surrounding the fruit. But, as they pulled into the long drive leading up to Flynnwood's manor, any thought of his own past was pushed to a back burner as the Hellhound's current duties became his primary thought.
Already, Morgan had his senses tuning outward and he gaze roamed beyond the interior of the car. Since it was clear that Cavan had no qualms in proving the lengths he was willing to go through to manipulate any given situation to his advantage, the Hellhound wanted to make sure there was no opportunity for the Spring Prince to take advantage of. No lapse in his duty or time where Aurora was alone for too long without a guard. Once the princess was seated with Flynnwood and Tristan for their bi-weekly meeting, however, Morgan was usually afforded a break since the Rosewood estate was typically teaming with the exiled princes own guard.
Normally, Morgan would wander off to spar with the other off-duty guards, but lately he'd taken to roaming the property and checking things out for himself. Although, last he was here, he'd ended up perusing through Flynnwood's ballroom to study the massive amount of portraits the fae had of his extensive mortal family. This morning, however, Morgan had wandered into the music room and seated himself at the upright piano. He played mortal classics he was familiar with, pieces composed by musically inclined fae, and eventually the Hellhound turned toward more modern and popular music. He was, in fact, playing a piece by Christina Perri when he sensed another presence and stopped to investigate.