This is my fourth chapter! YAY! I know I said I'd be alternating with Where the Wind Blows, and I am. This is the rest of the third chapter. I would have put it in earlier, but my computer refused to access the internet. It's a love/hate thing with technology and me.

This chapter is on Morgan more than Meliora. I kind of got the idea for his family from my own, so you can take a peek into my home life.

NazgulGirl, please take this as a plea to be spared from a horrific death by celery.

Declaimer: HMC is not mine.

CHAPTER FOUR

Morgan Jenkins sighed in frustration as he went over the transit spell for what seemed like the thousandth time. Running a hand through his unruly midnight hair, he tried to focus his blue-gray eyes on the sheet of paper.

Okay, I just need to concentrate, he thought to himself, taking a deep breath.

"MOTHER!" someone screamed. Eira, by the sound of it.

"What is it?" Sophie's voice called back.

"Peder turned the bathtub into a HIPPO! And it won't turn back for me! And I'm DIRTY!" Nine-year-old Eira wailed as she came into sight; her gray-green eyes were blazing, and her black hair flying as she ran down the stairs.

"I did not! It's a small elephant!" Peder shouted. He was four years older than his sister, with the same black hair, but dark gray eyes.

"It's a hippo! It said so!" Eira bellowed back at him.

Morgan rubbed his temples. Why did they have to yell as if they were at opposite ends of a field when they were two feet from one another? Normally he would just tune them out, or break up the fight, but his nerves were already raw from dealing with several off-world problems he had been dealing with the past couple of days.

"Call it an elepho and get Morgan to help you," Sophie called to her children, "The couch is wandering off again."

"MORGAN!" they shouted simultaneously.

With a sigh, Morgan pushed the spell aside and decided to ask his dad about it when he got home. With Eira and Peder both arguing their points, Morgan made his way up to the bathroom to inspect the damage. As soon as he opened the door his curiousity was aroused. Sitting where the bathtub used to be was a large orange animal that resembled both an elephant and a hippo. The creature had a trunk, but no big ears, and the rest of the body was in the shape of a hippo.

"Excuse me," the creature said politely, "But I don't think this is my natural shape. I wasn't made to a hippo you know."

Morgan nodded. "You're a bathtub, or were. But you're not a hippo."

"I told you!" Peder shouted triumphantly to Eira."

"But it's not an elephant either!" Eira protested, putting her small hands on her hips.

"My name is Stanley," the creature said a bit sadly, "And I don't like the color orange." He looked down at his bright skin and sighed.

"Nice to meet you Stanley," Peder said conversationally.

Morgan frowned; he didn't want to spend an hour explaining to his little brother why bathtubs didn't make good friends, so be broke the conversation up.

"Peder, why don't you tell me what you did to get… Stanely like this?" Morgan asked, eyeing the orange creature as it peered at itself in the mirror.

"What an ugly shade of orange. I prefer magenta, don't you?" it asked its reflection.

"Morgan, would you please stop that tub from talking to the mirror and fix it so that I can take my bath?" Eira asked grumpily.

"I like him," Peder announced.

"It's a bathroom appliance," Eira said scathingly.

"But that doesn't mean I don't have feelings," Stanely sniffed, looking hurt.

"You're so rude, Eira," Peder said.

"You're the one interrupting my bath! Daddy says that hygiene is as important as chocolate cake!" Eira countered.

Morgan tried to recall hearing his father say such a thing.

"I like cake," Stanley said.

"It's not that important," Peder said, disliking the talk about baths. He tried to avoid them when he could.

"It is too! Maybe even more important!" Eira told him imperiously.

"Is not!" Peder retorted.

"I once knew a sink I was very fond of," Stanley said meditatively.

"Quiet!" Morgan commanded, looking sternly at the three of them. "Now, how did you turn the bathtub…"

"Stanley," Stanley interjected.

"Stanley, into… an orange elepho?" Morgan finished.

Peder thought for a moment. "I don't remember," he said finally.

Eira sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Great. Now I won't be clean by the time Daddy gets home, and then he won't let me go with Mommy to the flower shop, and it'll be all your fault!" she accused Peder.

Before another argument could start, Morgan asked Peder to think harder. Glaring at his sister, Peder complied.

"I think it was the pink powder that's at Lowri's desk," Peder said thoughtfully. "I was carrying it to my room to put under my bed, when I remembered that I left my right shoe under the sink yesterday, so I stopped in here to get it and spill some of the powder into the soapy water," he finished.

"What was in the water?" Morgan asked.

"Lavender bubbles and a bar of honeysuckle scented soap," Eira said, thinking regretfully of the nice warm bath.

It must have reacted with the powder, Morgan thought. "What was the powder? Is there any left?" he asked Peder.

"Yeah, here. It stopped glowing, so it won't help me anymore," he said sadly.

Morgan examined the powder for a moment, then scooped some out of the small jar and studied it in his hand. Deciding to see if his thoughts were correct, he rubbed the pink powder between his palms and blew it at Stanley. There was a flash of orange light and wiff of lavender, and then the bathtub was back.

Eira clapped her hands excitedly and shooed her brothers out of the bathroom, telling them that she was long overdue for a bath and muttering that Stanely better close his eyes, if he had any left.

"I wish I could've kept him," Peder said regretfully as he and Morgan made their way back to the workroom.

"Dad wouldn't let you; you know how he feels about enchanted bathrooms," Morgan pointed out.

Peder nodded glumly, but a second later forgot all about Stanely as the front door opened and Howl walked in. "Dad!" Peder shouted, running to him.

"Hold on, let me put this down," Howl said, heaving a large, brown wrapped package onto a table before hugging his son. "Where's Mom?" he asked once Peder let go of him. But his thirteen year old was dashing out of sight before he heard the question, chasing after a small mouse he glimpsed.

"It's Hugh!" he shouted over his shoulder.

Morgan and Howl froze. They hoped he didn't mean Hugh Burkley from Peder's school.

"Howl?" It was Sophie. She walked in the room, a hand over her large belly and a scowl on her face. "Next time you decide to tinker with any of the furniture, make sure it doesn't get up on its own," she scolded him. "I just spent ten minutes convincing the blue couch that he was not to go wandering off."

Howl's eyes lit up at the sight of his wife. "Of course, cariad," he said absently as he crossed the room to reach her.

"No," Sophie said as he approached, "I'm still mad at you. I was napping on that couch the other day and it almost carried me right out of the house. Then before that it…"

"I give you my most humble apologies and sincerest pledge that I will never again tinker with the blue couch," Howl said solemnly as he reached his wife and pulled her into his arms.

"Don't think you can slither your way out of this, Howl Jenkins," Sophie started, but was cut off when Howl kissed her full on the mouth. Any objections or other arguments flew right out of her head as she wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss. She knew from years as the wizard's wife that if she didn't make her point before he kissed her, she wouldn't be able to make it at all.

Morgan thought it was wonderful that his parents loved each other so much, but he did wish that once in a while they would wait until he was out of the room to start making up. "Dad, when you get a chance will you give me a hand with something? The spell doesn't seem to be working properly," Morgan said headed for the kitchen. His father pulled back for a moment to say that he would, and then kissed Sophie again.

"Morgan, will you open the flower shop this afternoon?" Sophie asked, pulling back from her husband to look at her son. Howl began rubbing her belly and whispering in Welsh to his unborn child.

About to ask why, Morgan thought better of it and simply agreed. He made his way out before his parents began to get mushy again.

The store was as busy as ever, especially because they had just brought in new multi-colored shimmer flowers from the huge garden Howl had made for Sophie before they were married. Most of the customers were girls, and the majority of them were very fond of Morgan, who didn't mind at all.

"Hello, Morgan," twittered a pretty red haired girl. If Morgan recalled correctly, her name was Annabelle.

"How are you?" Morgan returned, receiving a storm a giggles from her and her friends.

"Better now that you're here," she said, batting her eyelashes.

Morgan liked the attention he got from young ladies, but he wasn't overly fond of the obsession some of the duller ones seemed to have with him. They came by the shop several times a day to see if he was there, which was good for business, but bad when he tried to serve another customer and they got jealous.

As the sun began to set, and Morgan was busy going over the figures for the day and picking out what flowers his mother would have to talk into staying fresh until the morrow, he heard the open and the little bell attached to it ring gently. Looking up, Morgan was surprised to see Meliora Lothiar. Suddenly he felt a bit guilty; while it was true that he didn't really know her, he still felt bad that he had missed her mother's funeral, even if it had been an off-world emergency.

"Hello," Meliora said with a smile. Morgan wasn't sure if she recognized him, for she greeted him as though he was just another face and went about looking at flowers.

"Can I help you find anything?" he asked.

"No, but I would like to inquire about a job," she said.

"A job?" Why would she need a job? Her father was a lord. Then again, they didn't really need the shop; Morgan and his father made enough to support the family even with Howl's incurable spendthrift ways.

"Yes, a job," she replied pleasantly.

Morgan wondered if the color of her eyes was natural; they were so gold. But she didn't know magic, and she didn't seem like the kind of person to change their natural colors.

"Are you alright?"

The question snapped Morgan out of his private thoughts. "Yes! Yes, I'm fine. I don't know if we have an opening…" he said, "I can ask. Why don't you wait here while I check?"

"Alright. I'll just look around. Are these natural flowers?"

Morgan looked at the silver-red lilies. He doubted it. Just in case he muttered the last word to a security spell on his way inside. He didn't distrust her, but that didn't mean something else wouldn't happen while he was away.

Inside the castle was bedlam when Morgan entered. Alis was chasing Trystan who had stolen her favorite scarf, Peder and Eira were arguing at the top of their voices, Lowri was waving a broom handle threateningly at Bran, and Tomos was yelling as loud as he could, determined not to be left out. In the middle of it all Howl was studying what looked like a long purple shoe sole, and Sophie was mixing a delicious smelling stew for dinner.

After making his way over to his mother, Morgan began to explain what was going on, but was interrupted when Alis turned Trystan into a bullfrog.

"Alis, you know the rules about transfiguring your siblings!" Howl shouted across the room.

Alis tried to look confused. "I've forgotten," she said innocently, tucking a ginger lock of hair behind an ear and looking at her father with her big green eyes. Even at fifteen she was a beauty.

"Do not transfigure a brother or sister unless absolutely necessary, and in the case of necessity never into any kind hopping amphibian," Howl reminded her loudly.

"Oh, so sorry," Alis said, glancing down at her now green brother. With a wave of her hand and some whispered words, Trystan was back to his blue-eyed, mud-brown haired self.

"That's it, Alis!" he said threateningly as he rose from his crouching position on the floor, "It's three foot toenails for you!"

"That's not sanitary!" Alis shouted at him. Then, with a smirk, "that means it's not clean."

"I know what it means!" Trystan bellowed at her. They took off, Trystan having the advantage of being a year older and nine inches taller than his sister.

Morgan couldn't tell what Lowri and Bran were arguing about as they switched back and forth from Welsh to English in the middle of words and sentences. As far as he could figure Bran had gotten her cat eaten by a moth ball.

"What were you saying, Morgan?" Sophie asked as she added a pinch of spice to the stew, tasted it, and licked her lips.

"I said that Meliora Lothiar is out in the shop and wants a job," Morgan repeated, his mouth watering at the smell of the food.

"What?" Sophie looked up quickly.

"Mel…"

"No, I heard you. What did you tell her?"

"I said I'd check with you," Morgan said, puzzled at his mother's reaction.

"Tell her absolutely yes. That girl needs an escape from…" Sophie began heatedly, but was sidetracked by a loud crash as Lowri send Bran crashing into the blue couch which took off in fright and knocked Alis over as Trystan was threaning her with a large hairy spider that was sent flying into the air and landed on Eira who began screaming which made Tomos yell as well.

"QUIET!" Howl shouted, a strong wind tearing through the rooms. Everyone froze, even the spider. "Let's try to get along while I sort this out for the king, shall we?" he said.

"Yes, Da," seven voices said together.

"Morgan, go back out there and give her a job," Sophie continued as thought nothing had happened.

"But what can she do?" he asked, tying to think of something that needed doing.

"Find out what she can do with flowers. If she is good at arranging them, let her do that. If you have to give her the job of picking them every morning," Sophie said.

Nodding, Morgan made his way back to the flower shop where he found Meliora intently studying a blue rose. She looked up as he came in and gave him a troubled look.

"I don't think it's supposed to do that," she said.

Morgan hurried over and discovered the rose was bleeding light blue liquid out of its stem. "What happened?"

"I don't know. It was making funny noises, so I came over to see what was going on, and it was like this," Meliora told him.

They both bent closer to the flower. Morgan was distracted as he smelled the fresh scent of apples that was coming from Meliora. He wondered if she used perfumes like his father did, or if she happened to spend a lot of time with the fruit.

"What do you think it is?" she asked.

Morgan turned back to the flower. "I don't know. It might be…"

Suddenly the thin blue line of liquid shot up into the air and wound itself around Meliora's left wrist. She gave a yelp and pulled back, but the liquid came away with her. Morgan began to motion in the air, starting a spell, but stopped as he saw there was nothing more he could do. The liquid had disappeared, leaving a pale blue tattoo behind. It wrapped around Meliora's wrist and onto her hand where it took the shape of a light blue flower of no kind Morgan had seen before.

"It… what did it do?" she whispered.

Morgan stepped forward and took her hand in his, peering intently at the markings. To his surprise, they were tiny figures that seemed to be words in another language.

"Can you read that?" he asked Meliora, indicating the markings.

"No," she said after examining them. Suddenly they faded into nothing, her hand returning to its pale flesh color. "That was… odd," she said.

Morgan was surprised that she wasn't more surprised. He began to wonder about her past. "I don't know what it was. Do you want my parents to take a look at it? Or Lowri; she's good with strange magical phenomena."

"That's alright. If it gives me trouble I'll let you know," Meliora said, looking down her hand. Morgan released her hand and walked over to the counter to find a key for her to use.

"You'll work from nine AM to three PM on week days, and weekend schedules change frequently, so I can't promise anything," he said abruptly.

"You mean I'm hired?" Meliora asked excitedly.

"Yes. You can start tomorrow. Are you any good at arranging flowers?"

"Never tried. I'll make an attempt tomorrow, though. If not I can always clean," she said happily. Morgan wondered why getting a job was so exciting for her. Maybe she was bored with lordly life and wanted some entertainment and had a thing for flowers.

"I'm sorry I missed your mother's funeral," he began hesitantly, unsure about how she would take any mention of her mother's death, "I was… detained." Detained was not the word; there had been a dimensional breech that had required his immediate attention.

"Oh, yes, well… it's fine," Meliora said, walking over to a cluster of tiny yellow blossoms, "it went… okay."

Morgan switched the subject, noticing that she looked uncomfortable. "We'll expect you here tomorrow then."

"Goodbye," Meliora said with a smile before leaving.

Morgan's mind once again returned to the spell he had been working on, and hurried to finish closing the shop before retiring to his work bench for the rest of the evening.

Meliora went home happy, and not even her father's criticism of H. Jenkins Fresh Flowers Daily could disturb her mood. She had a job, and she wouldn't have to spend every waking moment in the house that she now disliked heartily with a father who did nothing but brag about his (questionable) brilliance.

She hadn't realized that H. Jenkins would be Howl Jenkins the wizard. She thought the Jenkins, or Pendragon, family lived in Kingsbury. She hadn't expected to find them in Market Chipping. Not to mention she had had a wonderful time making apple turnovers with Cook earlier in the day.

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As she curled up in her bed to go to sleep, Meliora felt happy for the first time since her mother had disappeared, even with the thought of the very long way she had to go to get to work every day. Maybe she could find a spell or something to make it faster, if she had powers at all. With pleasant thoughts and plans going through her mind, Meliora fell into a dreamless sleep.

Down several flights of stairs and behind a heavy oak door, a shadow made its way through the room, whispering and searching, plotting and scheming; it wouldn't be long, not long at all.

This chapter just kind of... came out. I didn't plan it this way at all. Actually, I didn't plan it period. I hope you liked it! I would have posted it sooner, but my internet service was about as strong as a boiled noodle for a while.