This World Holds Record

by anoyo

Summary:

Like any good British boy, Arthur had grown up on the movies, the sit-coms, and the dime store novels (or maybe just the TV dramas of the dime store novels) about the average young man or woman being contacted one day by a stuffy lawyer with news of the passing of an aged, extended relative who left some sort of huge, previously unknown inheritance. So, of course, when a Mr. Gerard Legrace, of Legrace and Campbell, appeared on his doorstep to tell him about his great uncle Lord Pendragon and to have him sign this form, please, Arthur burst out laughing.

Notes:

For bendtothesun.

bendtothesun@LJ wanted romantic clichés, crazy present day questing, WTF-ery, crazy inheritance stipulations, and maybe a slash!dragon cameo or two for the 2009 merlin_santa. This is more pre-Arthur/Merlin (or OT5, if you want to see it that way, since I definitely do) than anything else, because it was either pre-whatever or I would have just kept going forever. I might have looked at the prompt and laughed for like an hour and then gotten completely carried away in the process of writing this. Unfortunately, bendtothesun, there is no mpreg. I couldn't think of a way to relate it to the plot. (If you like this, and the concept of it, I could be very easily convinced to continue it. As in, bat your eyelashes and give me a scenario, and I will likely just vomit it at you.) Also, this is more reincarnation than AU, since that's how the slash!dragon showed up. I don't know; blame him. ♥? Also, For some ungodly reason, "Harder Better Faster Stronger" came on shuffle when I was writing the Good Will Hunting scene. (When you get there, you will understand.) Just, I don't know, imagine that scene to that song. You will probably hurt something laughing. The end. Beta'd by the ever-lovely H. Sullivan.

Though Merlin sware that I should come again
To rule once more; but, let what will be, be

Like any good British boy, Arthur had grown up on the movies, the sit-coms, and the dime store novels (or maybe just the TV dramas of the dime store novels) about the average young man or woman being contacted one day by a stuffy lawyer with news of the passing of an aged, extended relative who left some sort of huge, previously unknown inheritance. So, of course, when a Mr. Gerard Legrace, of Legrace and Campbell, appeared on his doorstep to tell him about his great uncle Lord Pendragon and to have him sign this form, please, Arthur burst out laughing.

He only laughed harder when he realized that Mr. Legrace was completely convinced that he was telling the truth. Furthermore, there were stipulations for accepting the late Lord Pendragon's will -- an estate and accounts totaling about fifteen million pounds, not the most he'd ever heard, but also nothing to laugh at. Definitely not something he was going to turn down, considering the one-room flat he currently inhabited, if it could be called as much. Between working two jobs to pay for the schooling that would eventually put him in a much nicer place, and actually accomplishing that schooling, Arthur wasn't sure when Mr. Legrace expected him to set about meeting the late Lord Pendragon's stipulations, however.

Especially when he saw the list. "Crazy" seemed to run in his family, though his father had always liked to call it "the eccentricity that gave them their renowned name." Arthur called it "that thing that had most of them living paycheck to paycheck." Apparently, Mr. Legrace had been given Arthur's rather packed schedule and planned around it, as he explained that Lord Pendragon's stipulations could be met during the summer recess, as it was the perfect time for journeying, and it would give Arthur the rest of the current time to plan said journeying. Arthur agreed aloud and privately wondered if Mr. Legrace was simply as cracked as this long-lost apparent relative.

When Mr. Legrace bid Arthur good day, stating that he would see him again three days past the end of the term, Arthur gave himself a moment to be glad that he had the rest of the day free from work and that he'd finished the coming day's class work already: he was going to need the rest of the day to first stare at the list, and then get very, very drunk setting it to rights. Before he began either of those, he picked up his phone to ring Morgana, his almost-sister ("It's very complicated," his father had once explained, not realizing that Arthur very pointedly did not want to know), figuring that if he had a weird letter attached to a list of what seemed, ungodly, like quests, Morgana would want to be involved, if only to laugh at him later.

Morgana answered with a, "This had really better be life or death, Arthur, because Gwen and I were about to start a Doctor Who marathon, commemorating Tennant, and that's rather more important than whatever shit day you had yesterday."

"I just inherited fifteen million pounds," Arthur replied. "Attached to a list of things that I have to do before I can keep all of it, and one of them includes finding the place where I am most at one with the peace of my soul. And before you ask, no, I did not buy any pot from the fellow down the hall; I think he was arrested."

"Fascinating." Arthur could hear the amusement in Morgana's voice. Apparently, he'd said the right thing. If he'd been trying to convince himself, anyway, that line would have done it. "We'll be right over."

By "right over," Morgana had meant that she and Gwen would stop and pick up food, because it was unlikely that they would leave any time soon, and Arthur could always eat. When she arrived, Arthur had read the letter three more times and reached a new plateau of "suspension of disbelief." Never again would science fiction throw him off; farfetched was fair game. He greeted Morgana's entrance to his flat with, "This is utterly insane, and I am crazy for believing it, but I Googled it and the paperwork is legal. If I manage this, I inherit fifteen million pounds. And an estate in Wales, somewhere."

Morgana dropped the Thai on Arthur's only table, shoving textbooks to the floor. "Let me see," she said, holding out a hand for the letter that Mr. Legrace had presented Arthur. When he handed it to her, she set it down on the table so that both she and Gwen could read it.

Mr. Arthur Pendragon,

And so it comes again to where it belongs. The memory of our family is long and deep and many generations have been spent to keep it alive. Unfortunately, clinical skepticism is also a prominent trait in our blood, and it has overruled the legacy of truth.

It is my duty to uphold that truth, and, in my death, I do so. In the only way that I can, I present to you the lineage that is rightfully yours through this title and heritage in the bonds of courage and fealty. I hope that you will prove worthy of the blood that I have seen in you these last few years.

Good luck,
Lord Pendragon

There was only a short pause before Morgana said, bluntly, "The man was a lunatic. I have absolutely no idea what he's talking about. Did you ever meet him? I didn't even know there was a Lord Pendragon. Last I checked, your family was mostly on idiocy dependence."

Arthur huffed a bit, though his seriousness was tinged by both laughter and agreement. "Charismatic idiocy, at least. I knew there was a lord somewhere, but I think he was my grandfather's cousin. There's no way I'm his closest relative, at any rate. I've not the slightest idea why I'm receiving this inheritance."

Gwen pressed a finger to the wax seal beneath Lord Pendragon's signature on the letter, raising an eyebrow. "From what Morgana's told me, maybe he's giving it to you because the rest of your family would just be embarrassing?"

"If he's obviously that crazy," Morgana said, gesturing to the letter, "I doubt that's first in his mind."

"It gets better," Arthur intoned, waving the other sheet of paper. "The list of things I have to do to secure the inheritance. I have to do them in order. It says I can 'enlist the help of my trusted companions,' and that I have the help of the Pendragon coffers while I'm on my quest -- and it does use the word 'quest' -- but this list is completely ridiculous." He passed the list to Morgana, who set it down partially atop Lord Pendragon's letter and almost immediately burst out laughing.

Slightly more reserved -- or at least better at concealing her mirth -- Gwen simply brought a hand up to cover her face-splitting smile.

Arthur,

There are no dragons to slay in this day and age, but tests of courage and honor are as plentiful as they ever were. As you work toward the completion of this quest, you may enlist the help of your most trusted companions, as any man of true honor knows those in whom he can place his true feelings.

You must complete these tasks in the order listed, in order to feel their true significance. If you can complete these, you will be a man of true courage and honor, and be worthy of the Pendragon name. You will have earned what is being bestowed upon you.

No man can ever begin truly blind, and so you shall be pointed toward the first. A good friend of mine, Professor Gaius, at Oxford, where I believe you attend, will grant you your starting point.

From there, you will need to triumph over that which holds the most sway over your being. For every man, there is something in his past that keeps him from moving onward unhindered. You must confront this and overcome it. Once you have, you will know how to move on to the next step.

Next, you will need to determine what is most important to you in the world. A person, a place, a goal, or a material item; whatever that thing of importance is, you need to determine it. Once you have, you need to be able to give it a name and admit it to yourself. When you are being completely honest, you will know.

Finally, you will need to determine where you are most at one with the peace of your soul. When you have removed what it is that you most need to overcome, and given name to that which is most important to you, this place will become known to you. When you know this place, please inform Mr. Legrace.

If you can accomplish this list, you will have earned your inheritance. As I am sure Mr. Legrace has explained to you, whatever expenses you incur on this quest, the coffers of the estate will gladly pay.

After Arthur was sure Morgana had read the list at least twice, she finally muttered, "How very existential of him. Are you sure he's a Pendragon?" She blinked up at Arthur, then back at the list. "This is ridiculous, Arthur. None of these are finite. They're extreme to the point that you could either fake them or be completely unable to do them."

"That said," Gwen put in, leaning back in her chair and smiling, "it sounds like an excellent all-expenses-paid summer trip. Do you think our summer rent will be expenses incurred?"

Arthur shrugged. "The Legrace fellow left his card. I'll ask." He continued, "Either way, I suppose I have the rest of the term to sort it out. Considering that," he paused, sat back in his chair, "I might as well see this Professor that Lord Pendragon mentions. It doesn't say I can't see him early, and it might lessen some of the crazy a bit."

Morgana gave Arthur a somewhat offended look, which Arthur had learned, over the years, meant that she was really only offended that Arthur had thought of something that she hadn't, and really, he was Arthur, where did he get off thinking of things? Sometimes, Arthur was positive she forgot he'd gotten into Oxford on his own, and that she hadn't pulled any strings for him, even though she'd offered. The youngest in their group, Arthur was planning on going into architectural engineering; he'd always been able to see how things worked together in a pattern, and how things affected one another when they interacted. Laughingly, his instructors had always said that he would have been one hell of a tactician.

Really, Arthur wished Morgana would give him more credit than she did. Sometimes it was helpful to be underestimated, but when he was simply around people he'd known for ages, it was a bit insulting.

"That sounds like a great plan," Gwen said, giving Arthur a fond look. Gwen was Morgana's year, and they had met in Morgana's literature program at Oxford. Arthur wasn't sure where they'd actually met, or how they'd come to know one another so well, considering the difference in their personalities, but they'd really come to fit one another perfectly over the years. Both were set to graduate in the spring, then to move on to graduate school. Arthur was two years behind.

Arthur smiled at Gwen and gave her a mock bow, flicking his eyes to Morgana as he did so. Morgana rolled her eyes even as Arthur said, "I'm glad you think so, since you two are coming along."

Gwen laughed, but agreed. "Of course we are, what else? I wouldn't miss meeting someone who willingly met with the man who wrote these. He's bound to be just as cracked as the rest."

That was a sentiment that Arthur could bring out something to make a proper toast to, even if it turned out, the coming Wednesday, that they were wrong. The University website had Professor Gaius' office hours conveniently posted, and after a quick schedule-check, all three were on their way there as soon as afternoon classes let out.

Arthur met Morgana and Gwen with the news that, yes, their rent over the summer counted as expenses that the estate would cover.

"Huh," Gwen said, shrugging as she walked through the halls of the biology building in which they found themselves. "Then it can definitely be an all-summer trip. Do you know what you're going to do with it, yet?"

Trying his best for a look of "pensive confusion," Arthur said, "I figure I'll make a better decision once we've met with this professor. If I want to inherit, I'd best take it seriously, completely crazy or not. This professor might now the best way to do that."

Morgana gave him that look again, but Gwen nodded in agreement as they reached a door that read "Professor Gaius" and was covered in old newspaper clippings, post-its with notes to and from students, and manila envelopes. The name plaque was old and chipped, and Arthur had a sinking feeling that the professor they were about to meet was going to be older than most of the building itself, no matter how ridiculous that was, considering the age of most of Oxford.

Arthur raised his hand and knocked briskly at the door. "Professor Gaius?" he called.

"Come in!" a voice called, muffled through the door, but certainly sounding as musty and old as Arthur had been expecting. He suppressed a grin and entered.

The office was littered with papers everywhere, and the walls were completely lined in bookshelves overflowing with books, beakers, and other odds and ends. Arthur was completely positive he'd be lost as to how to find anything, but Gaius seemed to be doing just fine, going through a stack of lab reports while reading what looked like Greek poetry.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Professor Gaius, we're here with something of an odd question." The professor raised his eyes without raising his head, peering up at Arthur above his glasses and making Arthur feel like he'd been trying to sneak a cookie out of the cookie jar without permission. It was a talented sort of look. He could almost imagine Morgana taking notes.

"I'm certain it's neither the first nor the last odd question I shall receive," the professor said, lips twitching in a smile. "Though I'm sure you have a particular brand of oddity in mind."

Ignoring Morgana's snicker beside, Arthur continued, "A relation of mine referred me to you of late on somewhat less-than-clear terms, and I was hoping you could help to, ah, clear them up." Reaching into his bag, Arthur pulled out both the letter and the list of quests (steps of a quest? Arthur wasn't sure how the terminology worked) and handed them to the professor. As he watched, the professor's eyebrows raised, lowered, and then the man sighed explosively.

"I believe that I can be of help, young man," the professor said, again peering up at Arthur over his glasses. "The Lord Pendragon was an eccentric fellow, but he was fairly steady in his eccentricity. If he referred you to me, it was so that I could point you in the direction of any true beginning. Which is to say, in biology, wherever you end is where you begin, and where you begin is where you end. Simply put, stand up where you begin and simply begin."

To cover his own confusion, Arthur held out his hand for the two sheets of paper. "Just start? So, you mean, skip to the second step?"

The professor shook his head. "No, I doubt that's what Lord Pendragon meant. He wants you to start from some physical location, and I doubt that that is here, at Oxford. I, for one, would recommend you finish the term before you begin any quests," he said, accenting the last word as though it were a particular sort of disease for which one used a contraceptive. "I'm sure you consider the Lord Pendragon to be a bit insane, in these requests of his, but the fact that you're here means that you're planning on seeing them through."

Arthur nodded. "So he wants me to, what, pick a place to start?"

"Close," the professor said. "Were you to inherit, what would you become?"

"The Lord Pendragon," Arthur replied immediately. That, at least, was a simple enough question.

"And where did the last Lord Pendragon end?" the professor asked.

Morgana let out a soft exclamation. "Oh! Arthur, he's saying we ought to begin at the estate, wherever it is. That's where you'd begin, as Lord Pendragon, since it's where the last Lord Pendragon ended, or at least as far as anyone here knows."

The professor smiled and nodded warmly. "Precisely. Very good, young lady. I believe that that is what the Lord Pendragon would wish you to understand. He would not wish to tell you that himself, as he would wish you to realize the cycle of ending and beginning yourself, which is why he sent you to me to find your starting point." He cleared his throat once, gruffly, sitting back in his chair. "If I can offer you one more piece of advice?"

Exchanging a look with first Morgana, then Gwen, Arthur nodded to the professor. "Of course," he said politely.

"I would suggest that you think about each of Lord Pendragon's steps before you begin this quest. I believe that if you think considerably about them now, you will be able to see how they will change as you exercise them over the course of the summer." The professor sighed again, raising his eyebrows in a gesture that, Arthur realized, must have been akin to rolling his eyes, in a less sophisticated gentleman. "While the Lord Pendragon's means of relaying information could certainly use work, there is a system to what he is having you do that does seem to accomplish its purpose. I hope that you see some reward from this exercise."

Unable to think of any other response, Arthur simply said, "Thanks," and inclined his head. The professor inclined his head in return, and Arthur fought the urge to run away outright.

As it stood, once they'd turned the corner down the hall, Gwen managed, "That was definitely really strange," before they all burst out in nervous laughter.

Strange or not, it stuck with Arthur throughout the rest of the term, and he approached the task as seriously as he approached any of his engineering assignments. If it struck Arthur as shocking that he was suddenly taking this more seriously than he'd ever intended, he wrote it off as trade-off for the not insignificant reward, which he had decided to share with Gwen and Morgana, whether they liked it or not. It was easy to write off, in the face of finals, work, and impending exhaustion.

When Mr. Legrace showed up, three days after the end of term finals, Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen were ready to go, and Arthur knew where they needed to go for the second portion of the quest (he'd determined that, since there was only one far-reaching goal, it was all one quest, like with the holy grail).

They had interpreted Lord Pendragon's first task correctly: they wouldn't have gotten far on the Pendragon coffers without a link to them. When they arrived at the estate, Mr. Legrace showed them into a quiet parlor where tea and paperwork had been laid out for their arrival. When Arthur had asked what would have happened if they hadn't said they needed to start at the estate, Mr. Legrace had said, "Then you would not have met the stipulations of the inheritance, Mr. Pendragon."

He should have been afraid of the power of Lord Pendragon's will, and how easily he could lose, but instead, Arthur was simply impressed. He wasn't sure with whom, but it was a warm, comfortable sort of impressed.

Once they had finished the paperwork and were outfitted with enough means of payment that all parties were satisfied, Gwen and Morgana set about the important business of checking out the estate while Arthur set up their initial itinerary with Mr. Legrace.

As he did so, he allowed himself a few more questions. "Mr. Legrace, I assume that you know all the steps of these instructions, correct?"

"That is correct, Mr. Pendragon," Mr. Legrace confirmed, making a few notes on a location list that Arthur had compiled.

"Do you know which locations I'm going to pick for their results, too?" Arthur asked, watching Mr. Legrace's neat, tight scrawl.

Mr. Legrace glanced up from his writing, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly twitching. It was the closest to a facial expression that Arthur had seen on the man. "I am afraid that I am not at liberty to say," he said. Before Arthur could remark, however, he continued, "Though I must admit that it would be difficult to ascertain your adherence to the late Lord Pendragon's stipulations if I did not have some preconception of where those locations might be, based on some very thorough examinations that the late Lord Pendragon conducted and of which he granted me the results."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in a gesture that he'd been practicing ever since he'd seen the professor do it; it was remarkably convenient. "So there's something you're looking for that goes beyond just the locations, then," he said, in a way that implied that he wasn't really asking a question.

"I should think that would have been very evident, Mr. Pendragon, from the explicitly detailed purpose of this endeavor," Mr. Legrace said, underlining a note he had written in a perfectly straight, thin line. "Before you ask the question, Mr. Pendragon, I am also not at liberty to tell you by what merits I will judge the success of each step of this endeavor. Nor will I tell you how you will be observed. A great deal of trust is being placed in you, Mr. Pendragon, inherent in the purpose of the test. The late Lord Pendragon hoped that you would pass, rather than the opposite."

Letting a smile rest on his face, Arthur said, "That's a relief. I'll admit I was wondering if this wasn't just another way to get back at all the crazy philanderers in the family." Mr. Legrace did not mirror the expression on Arthur's face, but his lips did twitch, and Arthur counted it as a success.

"For relief, Mr. Pendragon," Mr. Legrace said, snapping shut the notebook in which he had been writing down Arthur's itinerary, "I must admit my own at your apparent ability to accept the strangeness that is this endeavor. It is certainly one of the more theatrical stipulations that I have delivered on behalf of a client."

Arthur laughed, looking toward the door as Morgana and Gwen reentered, grinning. "I'm fully planning on selling the rights, when we're done with this," Arthur said bluntly. Turning his attention fully to the girls, he said, "How was it?"

"We're moving in with you, if you manage to be gallant and all," Gwen said, grinning. "There's plenty of room. Just don't expect us to join or manage your harem."

"Noted," Arthur agreed. "Can we leave now? I feel like if I break something before I own it, I automatically lose."

Morgana laughed and gestured back toward the door. "After you, then. We're off to fight your demon."

Arthur spared a moment to nod one last time to Mr. Legrace, smiling when the gesture was returned, before striding out the door, riding on some internal pull he only sometimes remembered he had. There was a reason the quest mentioned only his most trusted companions: to share parts of it with anyone else would have been too much. That much admitted, to do it alone would have been more impossible yet.

A car had been supplied to get them from place to place, and all three had packed light. When Arthur didn't think about the content, it felt more and more like a graduation road trip for Morgana and Gwen, only with all expenses paid by a really convenient, rich uncle. To be fair, that could probably be considered true, if Arthur succeeded (and if he did, he'd ignore the part where he was the convenient, rich uncle, because that was creepy and weird).

As Arthur strapped himself into the driver's seat and Gwen took navigator, Morgana asked, from the back, "All right, Arthur, to where are we headed?"

"Gainey Hospital," Arthur replied evenly, smiling at Morgana in the rearview mirror.

Morgana frowned, and Arthur could tell that she recognized the name. He knew the moment she placed it, because her eyes widened and she grabbed his shoulder with bruising force. Gwen looked between them both in confusion.

"Arthur," Morgana said, in what Arthur called her "scary librarian" voice, which tolerated no bullshit. "Arthur, this is going too far. Pick a hurdle, any hurdle, even a real one, but this is taking it too seriously."

"If we hadn't done the first part correctly, and started at the estate, we would have failed. There's more depth to this than just picking something," Arthur said, having anticipated this argument. He did his best to avoid Gwen's somewhat hurt looks between him and Morgana.

"Yes, Arthur, and that could easily have been set up." Morgana's voice was still hard, but she had sat back in her seat to cross her arms. "There's no way for this man that you've never met to know anything about your secret, personal burdens. As long as you make it appear to be difficult, I'm sure it will work."

Arthur met Morgana's eyes again, briefly, in the rearview mirror. "That would be dishonest, Morgana. Trickery aside, this is the perfect chance to do this. I have the time, the resources, and the proper motivation. This is something that has always held me back in both my relationship with my father and in my own growth." He felt ridiculous, talking like this, about growth and relationships, but he knew that it was the way to make Morgana understand. He'd been thinking about it all term.

Morgana sighed. "Fine," she said, and it took all of Arthur's self-control not to stop the car to see if she was all right. Morgana never simply relented. "If I see you start to run yourself ragged over this idiotic game, I'm ending it, honest or no." The set to Morgana's jaw was condescending and firm, and it took Arthur having known Morgana forever to recognize it as her wanting to lock Arthur in a room, away from whatever it was that they were driving toward, that might be able to hurt him. It was endearing, if insulting.

He smiled. "We'll see," he said, cocky grin in place. Morgana met his eyes with a frustrated expression, but her lips twitched.

Gwen broke their sibling-resembling exasperation with a raised hand and eyebrows. "All right, I'm sorry, but I feel like there's a middle step, or story, or something in there that I missed or wasn't let in on, and I'd really like to know. If I'm, you know, going to help at all."

Luckily for Arthur, he'd been planning for this, too. Before Morgana could begin to explain, and Arthur could see in her eyes that she was, he started, "You know that my mother died, right?"

"Right," Gwen said, nodding, but softly, somehow, in a way that only Gwen could ever manage. Arthur knew that if he was ever unfortunate enough to procreate, he was going to get Gwen to teach him how to do that. Or just get her to raise them. Or have them with her, if he could manage to see her as anything other than his cuddly sister-in-law (married, of course, to his less-cuddly sister, Morgana).

"She died the day I was born, in a series of events that I've never been able to properly discover. I know that, somehow, my being born resulted in her dying, and that my father hadn't expected her to die. There was never an obituary published and my father threatened to press charges if the hospital ever released her medical records to anyone, including me." He paused. "I want to know what happened, if it was my fault, and why what happened, happened."

There was silence in the car for a few moments as Morgana studied Arthur's profile, Arthur watched the road, and Gwen seemed deep in thought, staring at her hands. Finally, Gwen said, "So we're going to somehow get that information, even though your father's made it illegal?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. That's the gist of it."

"What's your plan?" Gwen asked.

Clearing his throat once, Arthur managed, "Well, I figured we'd wing it. You know, once we got there, looked around the place a bit. There has to be a worker we can, you know, bribe into getting us the records. No one would ever know, that whole bit."

"Arthur!" Morgana yelled, punching him in the shoulder. "You idiot! You were just rambling on about honesty! You're supposed to be proving your honor, you moron. If you bribe someone, that's just about as opposite as you can go. We need a better plan than that."

Gwen laughed as Arthur rubbed the place where Morgana had punched him. "Well, the first thing is a reason to be in the hospital, you know, legitimately. One of us could pretend to be sick? Who has any sort of, you know, symptoms? Or can fake them?"

"We could say I slipped and hit my head while we were road tripping for our graduation trip," Morgana said, still intermittently flicking or hitting Arthur. "That way, it makes sense that we're not from around here, and it's close enough to the truth that we don't really need to make anything up. Plus, we can look like we're just being responsible when nothing turns out to actually be wrong."

"Or I could push you down some stairs," Arthur said, faking a wistful tone. "That way, at least the injury would look real. We could say you're just really clumsy." Morgana hit him again, but it was worth it for the car's lighter atmosphere and Gwen's laughter.

They wound up using Gwen and Morgana's idea, though Arthur did mention a few other ways to apply actual injury to the scenario while en route to the hospital, which was a short, three-hour drive. The hospital was small-ish, for a town of only 20,000 people. When they arrived at Urgent Care and told their story, they were told to wait by a very pleasant secretary, as there were at least eight people ahead of them, and it didn't look like Morgana was in any sort of imminent danger. If she was, the secretary advised, they ought to take her to the Emergency Room, rather than Urgent Care.

After they had finished the paperwork, Arthur feigned boredom in order to wander around a little, making a bit of a show with Gwen for the secretary about how they didn't both need to wait around, since Morgana was sure to be fine, they were just there to make sure. Arthur didn't know his way around the hospital, but it was fairly easy to bump into a young-ish, cute nurse and let it slip into conversation that, well, he wasn't from here, but he'd been born in this hospital, and wasn't that interesting? Where, exactly, might those rooms be?

He had finally gotten the information on where, precisely, the maternity ward was -- though it wasn't exactly a ward, more a series of four rooms next to and across from one another on the other side of the building -- and was heading in that direction, when he turned a corner and smashed, face first, into another young man carrying an armful of charts. Before this, Arthur wouldn't have guessed that medical charts were that weighty; now, he was pretty sure he was going to have a bruise from where one had bashed into his thigh. He wasn't jealous of the poor man who must have had them rain all over, and had begun apologizing profusely.

"Oh, Christ, I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going. Are you all right? I was in such a hurry, and I'm awfully clumsy, and those really ought to tell me that I should look more often, but no, on top of it all, apparently I'm not very bright, either. Are you all right?" he asked, again, either not realizing he'd repeated himself, or believing that the question bore repeating.

Arthur answered as he began helping the boy gather up the files scattered all over the floor. "I'm fine; I wasn't looking where I was going, either. When two people collide, it's rarely only one person's fault." Seeing that all the files had been gathered, he handed his pile to the man across from him. "That and I'm sure you're more bruised than I am, from that." He grinned, then took a better look at the towering pile of files that, just possibly, might have been the reason the other man had collided with him. "Can you even see over that pile?" He snatched the few he'd collected back off the top. "For the safety of others, please, allow me to help."

Rather than looking flustered, as Arthur had expected, the other man simply grinned in such a wide gesture that Arthur's jaw ached in sympathy. "Thanks. I'm new, just got hired last week, you know, graduation and all, so apparently I'm the new errand boy. Which is understandable, right, but that doesn't mean I don't have other things to do." He took off walking down the hall, talking as he did, and Arthur took off after him. "So when the senior nurses say to take all of this to records, well, I can't rightly argue, but then all the file carts are busy, so they say, which I think is just some weird form of hazing." He pushed open a door with a foot in a gesture that Arthur wasn't entirely sure should have worked, considering the door had a knob, but it did, and he wasn't arguing with not having to juggle files around.

"Sure sounds like," Arthur said, simply because he felt like some sort of interjection was necessary.

"Ah, well," the man continued, leading them down another hall and then a flight of stairs, flicking on a light with his elbow in a practiced gesture that had Arthur really questioning the "hired last week" part of the man's story. "At least I got a job, you know? It helps that my mum knows a guy who knows a guy in the administration. I've never been great at networking, but it's sort of handy at times."

Arthur had a thought that, perhaps, if he didn't talk quite so much, he might be more endearing. Then he was hit with the strange realization that he'd met the man about two minutes prior and he already found him somewhat endearing, so maybe Arthur didn't know anything about it, really. "Creating connections is fairly simple, on a surface level," Arthur put in, following the man as he slid between a shocking number of well-labeled filing shelves. "Using them equally so. It's creating any sort of deeper connection that's more difficult."

The man turned his head to smile at Arthur, and Arthur found himself unwittingly smiling back. "I've always been pretty good at that part." He stopped in front of a filing area seemingly at random, and dropped his files on top of it. "You can set those down next to these. I was told to just leave them down here, and that one of the night secretaries would put them away. Apparently, they're really particular about where they go. The nurses aren't allowed to put anything away, though we can take out whatever we want." He shrugged. Arthur was struck by a sudden, ringing thought about the convenience, but he shot it down, for the moment. He didn't even know the man's name; that would be in bad taste.

"I'm Arthur Pendragon, by the way," he said, holding out his hand for the man to shake.

The man smiled as he took Arthur's hand and said, "Merlin Emrys." He leaned back against one of the filing shelves, apparently content to sit and chat for a while. "What are you in for?" he asked, still smiling.

Arthur laughed. "Oh, well, we're road tripping," he started, then stopped. For no reason other than it couldn't hurt, he told the truth. "My friend's upstairs in Urgent Care pretending to have hit her head. Twenty years ago, my mom died in this hospital and my dad ordered her files sealed. We're here to see if we can get them, anyway." He leaned back against the shelves opposite Merlin, trying for easy camaraderie, but there was a lingering nervousness in his throat. It was insane, to feel nervousness about the reaction of someone whose opinion held less than ten minutes' weight.

Merlin was silent for a moment before he asked, "Why do you want them? Your mother's files, I mean. Can't you trust your dad's reason for sealing them?" His posture hadn't changed at all, still an example of the art of comfortable lounging, but Arthur could see a subtle shift in his eyes. He looked to be about Arthur's age, but he had told Arthur that he'd graduated that week. There was dedication there, and some sort of motivation.

"He won't tell me his reason. He won't mention it at all. The only things I know are from other people, and even they were cut short when my dad heard them." Arthur had been given enough to assess Merlin, from where they were; he had to give a little, in return.

"What do you hope to learn?" Merlin asked.

"How she died. Why my father felt it was so important that I never learn."

"What will you do with that information?"

Arthur frowned. "Do? Well, nothing. I'll know, which is more than I have now. Then I can get past what I need to." He shrugged. "I can't change anything that's happened, no matter what I learn. I can simply stop fearing what I don't know."

After a moment, Merlin smiled. "I can agree with that. All of that." His smile was wide, and Arthur found himself again irrationally sympathizing with Merlin's jaw. "What was your mom's name?"

Blinking rapidly, Arthur replied, "Igraine Pendragon, but, I mean, I didn't expect that to work." Arthur followed as Merlin started down another row of filing shelves. "I don't-- I mean-- "

Merlin laughed. "I can tell you didn't think it would work. If she's dead, and I don't mean to be insensitive, but she is, and she has been for twenty years, then releasing her information to a biological family member shouldn't be a problem."

Arthur sighed. "My father had the hospital sign a non-release agreement. You can't release my mother's files to anyone but him, ever." He knew it had been too easy; apparently he hadn't mentioned that.

But Merlin just shrugged. "All right, then don't go upstairs with it. You don't need to make a copy, do you? Read it and put it back. There are no cameras down here; the security department's too cheap. There are only cameras on the entrances and in some of the busier hallways." He pulled a set of files out of a shelf and handed it to Arthur.

It had been too easy. Arthur stared at it for a while, not wanting to open it. When he did work up the courage open it, he realized he had absolutely no idea what any of it said, other than the occasional phrase that he assumed meant that there were complications with the pregnancy, and the fact that he was fairly sure that a laceration was a cut. Maybe it hadn't been too easy; he had just seen issues with the wrong parts. He cleared his throat.

"Do you want some privacy?" Merlin asked from where he was leaning against a shelving unit nearby.

"No. Actually, I have no idea what any of this means," Arthur said, gesturing to the file he was reading. "I'm majoring in engineering. Medical lingo is a little out of my field."

"Oh," Merlin said, holding out his hand. "Want me to translate?"

Arthur grinned, but ducked his head a bit to hide the embarrassed nature of it. "If you don't mind."

"Not at all." Merlin began reading the set of files Arthur handed him with a clinical air. As he read, Arthur watched as the expression on his face changed subtly from studied to interested to what could have been either pained or horrified. By the time Merlin appeared to be done reading, Arthur wasn't so sure he wanted to know what the files said, after all.

They stood in silence for a minute or two after Arthur was positive Merlin's eyes had stopped moving across the pages before Arthur managed to ask, "What do they say?"

"Your mother entered the ER at about eight and a half months pregnant with a stab wound to her upper abdomen. Due to the location of the wound, you, in the womb, were suffocating on blood entering your system. Er, the specifics of that are really complicated, but that's what it comes down to. The ER surgeon gave your parents the choice of stopping the bleeding for your mother, which meant allowing you to suffocate, or performing the surgery to save you, which your mother would be unlikely to live through. The paperwork doesn't say who made what decision, but the medical procedure was done to save you, which I'm sure you realized." Merlin gave Arthur a small smile. "Would you like to look over any of it?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, I don't think staring at information I can't read will really help." He felt the urge to meet Merlin's smile, which helped, bizarrely.

Merlin put the set of files away and gestured back out the way they'd come into the records room. Halfway back up the stairs, Merlin said, "Thanks for helping me with those files."

Giving the other man a somewhat stronger smile, Arthur said, "No problem. Thanks for finding my mom's file, and for reading it, even though I'm sure that was awkward."

"I'm pretty used to being awkward," Merlin said, giving Arthur a lopsided grin. "What will you do now?"

"Piece the rest of it together, I suppose. I'm sure there's a case on it here in town." Arthur shrugged. "Then I'll just move on. I can see why my dad kept it from me, why he thought he was protecting me, but sometimes it's better to know than to wonder."

At the top of the stairs, Merlin put a hand on Arthur's arm, stopping him from leaving the staff area that separated the stairs from the hallway. "Before you go and get sad all over people who I'm sure can give you better comfort than this, let me give you my medical opinion," Merlin said, giving Arthur a little smile that was less jaw-splitting, but somehow even more warming. "Whatever part of your mom's death you might be thinking about blaming on yourself, don't. An exacerbated stab wound to the abdomen that punctures any sort of organ going septic has nothing to do with you. In other words, it's not your fault." He gave Arthur that little smile again. "There, Good Will Hunting moment over."

Arthur let out a laugh at that, smiling in earnest. "Thanks," he said, pushing open the door to the hallway, heading back in the general direction of Urgent Care. When he glanced over his shoulder, Merlin was nowhere in sight.

As Arthur reentered the Urgent Care waiting room, he was struck by just how little time had actually passed. Both Morgana and Gwen were still sitting precisely as he'd left them, Gwen reading one of the many magazines on parenting and Morgana playing Solitaire on her mobile phone. He spared one last thought for just how easy all that had been, medical lingo or no, before he sat down on the other side of Morgana and said, "Move that five of diamonds."

"Yes, I know," Morgana muttered, then glanced up at him stormily. "Did you give up so soon? That's unlike you, Arthur. Not that I'm displeased, as I didn't think it such a wonderful idea in the beginning, after all." Gwen gave Morgana a look over her parenting magazine, and Arthur was struck with a sudden thought that, really, Gwen and Morgana were sort of like his parents, and that was creepier than he wanted to consider.

"No," Arthur said, rolling his eyes, "I got precisely what we came here for. A nice nurse even interpreted the medical information around me, right around the 'this file is legally sealed' notices." He grinned cheekily, ignoring the cold feeling that still penetrated most of his chest, and had since Merlin had explained his mother's files to him.

Morgana gave Arthur an incredulous look, but clapped her hands in a properly ladylike golf clap. "Bravo, Arthur Pendragon. I knew those good looks would have to serve a purpose eventually."

Gwen laughed. "Aside from your stunning reputation, obviously." She reached across Morgana to pat Arthur on the arm in a mothering fashion. "I know most of the lit department is still convinced Morgana and I are sleeping with you, no matter how absurd that is."

Grinning without remorse, Arthur asked, "Do you know how much longer we're going to be waiting? It feels sort of beside the point, now." He rifled through the magazines on the table across from them, but they were all variations on Gwen's parenting magazine and Arthur was decidedly uninterested.

"I believe that we're either next or soon," Morgana said, looking around the waiting room. "I haven't been paying much attention, but I think most of these people came in after we did. I think we can get in and out pretty quickly, playing the 'we're just making sure nothing is secretly wrong' card."

Arthur nodded, leaning back in his seat. He pulled out his mobile phone and flipped through the games, unable to stay on any particular game for long. As Morgana had said, a nurse called them into the patient area before long and checked Morgana in quickly and efficiently. The doctor asked her a few routine questions and gave her a list of things to look out for, with a warning to get in as quickly as possible if any of the symptoms arose. Antsy to move on as Arthur was, it was almost more than he could bear, sitting patiently through Morgana's examination.

Neither Morgana nor Gwen asked about the results of Arthur's illegal file searching while they were in the waiting room or between nurse and doctor visits. Arthur had always respected them for being intelligent and discreet, and this situation was no exception. Arthur was settling in for the task of telling them what he had learned as they left the hospital when a hand caught on his arm just before the double doors. He stopped, and smiled involuntarily when he saw that the same warm blue eyes he had met earlier in the day had caught him.

"Thought you might still be around, since you mentioned something about faking an injury," Merlin said, still smiling. "I don't know if you need it, but before you go around trying things that might or might not work, I thought of something while I was finishing up my shift."

Arthur waved to Morgana and Gwen, who had noticed that Arthur was no longer with them and stopped to wait for him just outside the Urgent Care entrance. They reentered as Arthur addressed Merlin, "Yeah? What do you mean?"

Merlin grinned widely, and Arthur was struck by the thought that this was probably Merlin's version of Arthur's own cheeky smile. It seemed, at least, somewhat kindly mocking. "I just meant that you didn't really seem to have a plan, when you spoke with me earlier, so I figured you didn't have much of a plan for this next step, either, and I think I might have one for you, if you like." He held out his hand to Morgana, who had come up close to Arthur's side, in a gesture that Arthur was sure seemed overly protective. "I'm Merlin, a nurse here at Gainey. I met Arthur earlier."

"Morgana," Morgana answered, shaking Merlin's hand politely and giving him a look that masterfully crossed amused and assessing. Someday, Arthur would get her to teach him how she did that. "Arthur did mention meeting a nurse." She ended her assessment of Merlin with a raised eyebrow in Arthur's direction that seemed to imply that Arthur was going to have a bit of poking at not having specified a male nurse earlier.

Keeping true to form, Gwen greeted Merlin much more warmly. "I'm Gwen," she said, shaking Merlin's hand before patting it, for good measure. "Why don't you come join us for dinner? You said you just got off your shift, so I bet you haven't eaten yet. That way, you can explain what you mean in greater detail, too."

"That sounds great," Merlin said, taking a few steps to trigger the entrance's automatic doors. "There's a nice little family place just down the block, Civero's, on the corner of 5^th and Wagner, and I can meet you there." As easily as he'd insinuated himself in their conversation, Merlin left it and turned a corner into the employee parking area.

Morgana took the opportunity to turn her raised eyebrows on Arthur. "He seemed pleasant. Not at all the charmed nurse I pictured from the incredibly vague description you gave, Arthur," she said, sliding into the back of their car as Arthur opened the doors.

Arthur laughed, starting the engine. "What you assume, Morgana, I have no control over." He grinned into the rearview mirror.

"Yes, well, you let me assume," Morgana shot back, giving Arthur an acidic look that was almost completely ruined by the mirth in her eyes. "While we drive, you should tell us what you learned."

Taking a breath to keep the cool that he had carefully built up, Arthur said, "When I was born, my mother had been stabbed. Due to where she was stabbed, the doctors had the choice of saving either her or me, and someone chose me. That's all the detail that the medical files had." He pulled into the thin stream of after work traffic, easily spotting the restaurant that Merlin had mentioned. "If I can, I'd like to read the statements that the police were able to obtain. I don't plan on doing anything with them; I'd just like to read them. Then, I think, I can put it to rest." He didn't mention the pain that had accompanied the debate he'd had over whether or not his mother's death could be directly linked to his own life, or the fact that, inexplicable as it was, Merlin's blessedly impartial presence had been what Arthur had needed to not simply assume that guilt.

Gwen put her hand on Arthur's arm, squeezing gently. "I'm sorry, Arthur." She gave him a small smile, which Arthur returned.

"For what?" Arthur asked, not forcing himself into undue cheer. "I think that, really, it was better to know. It wasn't anything that I did. That's a relief I hadn't been expecting." As he said it, as he'd planned to say it, he knew that it was true. An odd sort of comfort, to be sure, but one that Arthur could accept. He'd never been one to agonize over things outside of his control when there was nothing more to be gained.

They pulled into the restaurant to a fairly empty car park, though the building didn't seem poor or to be in disrepair. Merlin pulled in shortly after they did, stepping cheerfully into the building still in his scrubs. The man behind the counter waved and greeted him, which gave Arthur the impression that this was, in fact, the small, family place that Merlin had made it out to be.

Once Merlin had ordered himself a drink, Arthur asked, "All right, what's this idea of yours?"

Merlin grinned and pulled out his mobile phone, flicking through a few buttons. He put it to his ear while Arthur assumed it was dialing before he said, "Hey, it's me, Merlin. I was wondering if you could do me a sort of illegal favor. No, not very illegal. I mean, not as illegal as the time with the duck. Well, you know, if there were variations in things being more or less legal than other things. No, I just need a set of records from twenty years ago, probably sealed, but not anything big or corporate. At least, I doubt they're big or corporate. Oh, er, Pendragon. Yeah, twenty years. What, I don't know? We're at Civero's. Yeah, dinner's on me. Or him. I don't know, just not you, right? Yeah, see you in a few. Right, sure. Not a chance, bye!" Merlin hung up his phone and grinned at Arthur. "It's a small town," he said, as if in explanation.

Arthur gaped a bit. "Did you just illegally obtain a secured document?" he asked, starting to laugh.

Grinning, Merlin looked incredibly pleased with himself. Morgana and Gwen had both given in to something similar to Arthur's own astonished laughter. "From a police officer, no less," Merlin replied, laughing a little himself. "He owes me a favor, I think. Or maybe now I owe him one. Either way, I think we've been trading favors for the last ten years or so, so it's not a big deal. I think I offered you up for buying dinner, though."

"No, dinner's good, I've got it," Arthur said, laughing outright.

The man who had greeted Merlin when he entered the restaurant came over with their drinks and introduced himself as the owner. Merlin sent him off with the fact that they were waiting on one more and ordered another drink in anticipation of that additional group member.

"So," Merlin started, waving a hand in the air in a circular motion that Arthur found he understood to mean "about all of this." "If it's not prying, can I ask what brought you out here to do this? I mean, I can see why it's important and beneficial and all that, but is there a reason why it's now, specifically?"

Morgana laughed. "Well, you see," she said, smiling in a way that made Arthur profoundly nervous, "Arthur's long-lost great-uncle, the late Lord Pendragon, made Arthur the sole beneficiary of his estate and accounts of fifteen million pounds, but in order to properly inherit, he must first complete a quest to prove he's worthy of the Pendragon name through these tests of courage and honor."

Gwen snorted into her drink. Arthur dropped his face into his palms as Merlin started laughing whole-heartedly. "Like that," Arthur said, muffled through his hands, "I sound like the lead in some daytime television show."

"Sweetheart, the only thing that separates you from that lead is the fact that none of these feats of courage and honor involve rescuing your one true love from your mortal enemy," Gwen said, patting Arthur on the shoulder reassuringly. Merlin only laughed harder.

"Unfortunately," Arthur said, peering up at Merlin from between his fingers, "everything these two horrible women have said is true. I have a bizarre list of tasks that I have to complete in order to inherit a ridiculous amount of money from a crazy dead man that I was aware I'd even been related to." He pulled the list of tasks out of his pocket and unfolded it onto the table in front of Merlin for him to read.

As Merlin read, the mirth didn't leave his face, but it was joined by a look of what Arthur could only call bemusement. "While whoever made this list was undeniably insane," Merlin said, grinning up at Arthur, "it does have a sort of weird merit. I mean, if they can actually gauge that you accomplish this ridiculous list of stuff, in some sort of objective way, you'll have proved what they want you to prove." He wrinkled up his eyebrows. "Actually, just by taking their list seriously, instead of finding the easiest way to make it look like you're taking it seriously, you're kind of accomplishing it by default, so the list looks less and less crazy the more you think about it. Though the more you think about it, when you recognize the fact that it is, in fact, totally crazy, you wind up admitting that you're a bit crazy yourself."

Arthur smirked. Something about Merlin's bumbling, rambling personality was continuing to grow on him, and he was struck by the same strange phenomenon that had occurred when he had met Gwen. The time that he had known Merlin was undeniably short, but the amount that he felt he had known him wasn't the same. When Morgana had introduced him to Gwen, she had brought her new friend to their weekly pizza-and-a-movie night. Arthur had been annoyed, at first, by the intrusion into a tradition that had been his and Morgana's for as long as he could remember. By the end of the night, he couldn't remember what the night had been like without Gwen.

Watching as Gwen replied, "I'm glad you think that! I kept thinking that, but it just felt like I was succumbing to some sort of contagious crazy from having met one too many Pendragons!" Arthur could feel the same sort of easy mesh with Merlin. Morgana and Gwen were interacting and speaking with Merlin as though he'd been traveling with them all along. Part of it, Arthur could attribute to a natural sort of idiotic charm, but the rest simply felt the same as that weird, but comfortable, feeling of right that had settled alongside Gwen four years ago.

Before Arthur had a chance to continue being uncharacteristically pensive, the door to the restaurant opened and Merlin swiveled to pin the newcomer with his contagious grin. The newcomer was dressed in a police officer's livery and tipped his hat to the restaurant owner before joining them at their table, smiling brightly at everyone assembled and holding out his hand first to Gwen, who was closest.

"Hi, there," he said, smiling, "Merlin only sort of mentioned anyone else would be here, but I'm Lancelot. Since that's sort of embarrassing, you can call me Lance." He shook Gwen's hand firmly, then Morgana's and Arthur's as they introduced themselves, before he seated himself at the table and the owner was able to take their order.

When the owner had finally left with their probably annoyingly cheerful order, Lancelot pulled an expandable file from somewhere that Arthur wasn't sure he wanted to contemplate and dropped it onto the table in front of Merlin.

"I hope that's what you were after," Lancelot said, grinning as he shrugged. "It was the only file in the building marked Pendragon that wasn't a birth or death certificate, and I figured you could have just as easily gotten those yourself. I need it back as soon as we're done eating, though, since I'm on my dinner break and while I'm sure no one will miss it, risks not taken are risks that won't get me fired."

Merlin nodded and clapped Lancelot on the shoulder. "Thanks. I appreciate it." He gestured to the file as he turned to Arthur. "No one'll be offended if you take it out to the car," he said, smiling calmly. "Lance won't even think you're stealing it."

Lancelot laughed. "Who'd want to steal a file? There are a lot better things to steal. Plus, I went through it before I lifted it, so I'm pretty sure there's nothing worth any money in there." He grinned at Arthur in a manner that, sharply and strangely, reminded Arthur of a teddy bear. "Feel free."

"I'm not going to need a translator for this one, am I?" Arthur asked, tapping the file. When Merlin laughed and Lancelot simply raised an eyebrow, Arthur continued, "I mean, it's not in some weird shorthand or legalese, is it? Will I have any idea what it's saying?"

"Oh, no, no shorthand. Lowest common denominator, only in triplicate. A lot of stamped documents, but they're all labeled in excruciating detail. Might be in a strange order, but that's because I think the last person to have that file was the city attorney, and they tend to just stick things back in the folders for the secretaries to work out, not realizing that the secretaries really don't care," Lancelot said, shrugging.

"And if you get stuck," Merlin interjected, "just come back and make Lance interpret. Last time I read a file, I didn't have much of an issue, but I don't think it was a criminal file." He glanced at Lancelot. "Was it?"

Lancelot blinked a few times, looking as though he was puzzling. "No, I don't think so. That was the book thing, right?"

"Yeah," Merlin said, nodding.

"Definitely not a criminal file," Lancelot confirmed, taking a sip of his drink.

"How about you two explain that while Arthur reads the file?" Morgana asked, smiling over her glass at Merlin. "You have me intrigued."

"I'm not so sure about that," Lancelot said, running a hand through his hair. "It doesn't make me look like a very good officer."

Merlin snorted. "Because you're not."

Arthur rolled his eyes and scooped up the expanding file. "I'll just be outside. Don't steal my food, if it arrives."

"We make no promises," Gwen said, smiling in that way she had of looking completely innocent while saying something completely not.

He left them to their story and settled onto one of the outdoor tables with the expanding file. Once he'd opened it, Arthur realized what Lancelot had meant about the disorganization of the contents. It took him quite a bit of shuffling to get through the interview sign-off paperwork and into actual assessments. A convenient case summary sheet gave him the overview that he had been looking for.

Arthur knew that his parents had been traveling through Gainey when he was born. An accident had led to his being born a few weeks early and to his mother's death. The summary gave him the barebones of what had happened. His parents had stopped for gas while driving through Gainey. While stopped, an inebriated man had attempted to mug his father and had stabbed his mother. The man had been immediately apprehended, and his mother had been rushed to the hospital. All possible care had been provided, and statements from all witnesses had been taken. Neither his mother nor his father could have reacted any better to the situation: his father didn't get aggressive, his mother didn't get protective. The man was simply drunk and not thinking clearly.

In the file were four statements that Arthur wanted to read: his father's, his mother's, the doctor's, and the man's. He was surprised that his mother had been lucid enough to give a statement, but he felt that he shouldn't have been. His mother had always been described to him as a strong woman, someone whom Arthur greatly resembled. He saved her statement for last.

The man's statement was the easiest to read. Arthur kept himself from reading the man's name, knowing that it wasn't something he needed to know if he was reading for closure, and he was. Once he had realized what he had done, the man had admitted to all his crimes, given a full statement, and refused bail. Arthur wasn't sure if the obvious remorse that the man felt was settling the chill that he had felt since hearing how his mother had died, but what little cold had lingered in his chest was beginning to recede.

The doctor's statement was concise and professional, stating that Igraine had been lucid and gracious even as she realized that she wasn't going to live through her injury. It stated that she had been coherent and awake for the decision she needed to make and that she remembered all pertinent events of the mugging, which led the doctor to believe that her statements should be considered fully applicable in a court of law, and not clouded by any sort of pain or trauma.

His father's statement was hard to read, as Arthur could tell that it had been given after Igraine had passed away, and Uther was nearly unable to concentrate on the matter at hand. He had been able to recall what had happened and the repercussions thereof, culminating in the death of his wife. Uther had pressed charges against the man to the full extent of the law, regardless of the man's apparent remorse. Arthur felt sympathy for both the man and his father. He could see why his father had tried to hide this from Arthur, however, as it was a sign of the weakness that Uther had always tried to dissuade Arthur from possessing.

His mother's statement was short and to the point, accounting for what had happened and including her legal medical decisions, as there had not been enough time for two separate statements to have been made before the surgery was undergone. In this statement, Arthur learned one very important thing: ultimately, it had been his mother's decision which surgery she had undergone, with her mental stability backed by the doctor's assessment.

Arthur closed the file. He didn't need to know the verdict; it wasn't important. Whether or not a man that Arthur had never met had gone to jail made no difference to the fact that Arthur now knew, without any doubt, that the one true fear he had held was unfounded.

If Igraine had made the decision herself, there was no chance that she would resent the fact that Arthur had lived and she had not. That meant that, no matter what he had believed irrationally as a child, Arthur could not fault himself for that fact, either. What cold remained in Arthur's chest left at that, and Arthur sat back, taking a deep breath. He said, "Step two complete."

When he reentered the restaurant, the food had arrived and he had composed himself. He grinned as he dropped the expanding file next to Lancelot and said, "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem," Lancelot said around a mouthful of hamburger. "Swiping an old dusty file for a dinner? Fair trade to me."

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder before sitting down, and, noting the obvious absence of pickles on his plate, he turned to stare openly at Gwen's over-large pile. "I want at least one of those back," he said, pointing to the pickles.

Gwen stuck her lower lip out at him in a caricature of a pout. "You don't even like pickles, Arthur," she said, picking one up and tossing it toward his plate.

"Here, Gwen," Morgana said magnanimously, dropping her own pickles onto Gwen's almost towering pile. "You can have mine." She dug her elbow into Arthur's side, sticking her tongue out at him openly, but Arthur caught her eyes lingering. He gave her a smile and she looked away, the rigid posture of her back softening almost imperceptibly. Sometimes, Arthur worried that he should be concerned about how well he knew Morgana. Then he remembered that she knew him just as well and worried about that instead, and that was all right.

"Oh, you're a pickle-lover, eh?" Lancelot asked, smiling at Gwen. "You can have mine, too." He piled his onto Gwen's plate. "I always just leave them there on the plate, where they make everything else soggy." Gwen popped a couple of the pickle slices into her mouth in approval of her hamburger-high pile and all five of them laughed.

"Lance just says that because he's too manly to admit that he hates pickles," Merlin said, dropping his own pickles onto Gwen's plate. "Something about real men eating everything on their plate unless someone else eats it for them."

The banter around the table continued throughout the meal, only lending weight to Arthur's bizarre we've-known-one-another-forever theory. He chiseled his theory in stone during Lancelot's third dessert, however, when Gwen brought it up.

"You know," Gwen said, "this is going to sound really odd, but it sort of feels like we've all known one another for ages, not just a few hours." She clicked her fork against her empty pie plate a few times before continuing, "I mean, not in a bad way, just in a really comfortable way. Like we immediately clicked. Does that make sense?"

"It does," Morgana said, reaching out to pat Gwen's hand. "I had almost forgotten that we only met Merlin and Lance today." She paused. "Like I forget that I've only known you since college started, and it hasn't always been you, me, and Arthur. It just feels like it has."

Arthur almost jumped at Morgana stating almost exactly what he'd been thinking, but Merlin got there first. "I've sort of felt that way all day." He glanced toward Arthur. "Like when I ran into Arthur at the hospital. We hadn't met, but it just felt comfortable, like we could talk, anyway."

Lancelot dropped a hand loudly onto the table, causing almost everyone to jump. "That's it! Merlin, I almost forgot! All this talk of knowing people forever and I just assumed, but we haven't, so you wouldn't know. If you're going to be in the area, we're having a start-of-summer barbecue at the lake to the west of the city. It's tomorrow around one." He pulled a scrap of paper out of one of his many belt pockets and scratched out a few numbers. "That's my mobile number, if you want the location or feel like joining us."

Merlin laughed. "Nice, Lance, scare off the poor kids." He grinned back across the table. "You are definitely welcome to join us, though. It'll just be a few more people that we know from growing up around here and a lot of food that we attempted to cook ourselves. Once we realize that's a horrible idea, we'll probably call Mark here at Civero's to cater something out to us."

"Well, when we know where we are, we'll let you know," Morgana said, looking toward Arthur. "I suppose it depends on our great and fearless leader." She smirked. Arthur flicked a remnant of whipped cream at her, ignoring Gwen's sigh of, "Children!"

"I'll let you know," Arthur said, picking up the scrap of paper that Lancelot had offered.

"Good enough for me," Lancelot said, grinning as he pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "I need to get back to work. I think I took a longer dinner break than they expected me to, anyway." He hefted the expanding file and saluted the table with it, giving a pleasant smile. "It was a pleasure to meet you all. I hope to see you again, if you stick around." He punched Merlin amiably in the arm. "And I know I'll be seeing you. Not nearly lucky enough to think you'll be vanishing any time soon."

Merlin chucked a sugar packet at Lancelot, which Lancelot easily ducked. Standing, Merlin said, "You say that now, but if I were to actually leave for any amount of time, I'm sure you wouldn't know what to do with yourself."

Morgana and Gwen seemed to take this as their cue to stand and pushed back their chairs in near unison. "We'll escort you out," Morgana said, walking around the table to stand next to Lancelot. "It was our pleasure to meet you as well, Lance."

"Oh, yes, definitely," Gwen agreed, stepping up to Lance's other side and helping Morgana usher him out of the restaurant. "It's not every day that you get to meet a law-breaking officer, after all."

Arthur picked up the tab and took it to the counter, pulling out the card that the Pendragon estate had given him to cover their expenses. When he considered that this and gas had been the only expenses for two out of four tasks completed, he figured he was doing pretty well. He turned from the register toward the door to see that Merlin had lingered behind, standing just inside the door and waiting for him. Merlin pushed the door open when Arthur came even with him, but stopped just outside the restaurant, putting a warm hand on Arthur's arm.

"I'm glad you found what you were looking for, here in Gainey," Merlin said quietly, looking Arthur in the eye. With the hand that wasn't clasped to Arthur's arm, Merlin held out a folded sheet of paper. "Lance skipped a few details when he invited you to our barbecue tomorrow. Here's the address of the park and some more contact information, if it turns out you're still in the neighborhood."

"Thanks," Arthur said, accepting the paper. He smiled down at Merlin's hand, still holding his arm. "For this and for your help, I mean. I appreciate it." Arthur let his eyes hold Merlin's for a moment before he started toward his car and the girls, who were still bantering across the small parking lot with Lancelot.

Merlin took the few steps to his car before he called over his shoulder, "Any time."

The paper, when Arthur unfolded it, read,

Start-of-Summer Barbecue, One O'clock at Gainey Lakeshore. 18500 Bucksbaum Dr. Any questions, call Merlin Emrys at 029 698 9870.

Arthur smiled a little wider as he shoved the paper into his pocket and gestured Morgana and Gwen into the car. Once they were en route to the hotel they had decided upon for the night, Arthur asked, "Did that seem too easy, to you?"

Gwen hmm'd before she replied, "Yes and no, I think. Yes, since we got it done so fast. But no, because you really did precisely what the instructions said. Getting it done quickly had nothing to do with the difficulty of what you had to do, really, but with the circumstances under which the task was completed. If you hadn't bumped into Merlin, I don't think it would have gone nearly so well."

"Yes," Morgana agreed. "It did feel like that. Not as though it was too easy, but as though it would not have worked had you not run into Merlin as you did. Almost as though, if it's even possible, that was the real purpose of the task." She pointed to the hotel out the window of the car. "I believe that's us."

As they unloaded the car, Arthur asked again, "Really, though, do you think I didn't pick the right thing? I mean, is it really the one thing that held me back the most if I could fix it in a day?"

"You didn't 'fix it,' though," Gwen said, heaving her duffel back out of the trunk. "You recognized it and then began to overcome it. You didn't, you know, hot glue it back together or anything. I don't think that was the purpose. If you'd sat around agonizing about it, I don't think that would make it any more legitimate than what you've done now."

"Gwen's right," Morgana agreed. "You thought about it sincerely and then worked in a sincere manner. I think it was some sort of weird, karmic balance that you managed to meet Merlin, and through Merlin, Lancelot, and thus get what you needed in order to accomplish your goals without the mess that could have happened. That way, you could focus on the parts of the task that relied solely on you, rather than the unimportant details." She shrugged as they walked up to the counter to check in. "You approached it in a straightforward, honorable way, and got a straightforward, honorable result. Crazy as it seems, it fits the bill."

Arthur saved his eerie agreement for after he had checked them into the hotel and they were lounging around in the girls' hotel room, drinking a bottle of extremely good celebratory wine. (Definitely an explainable expense. Really.)

"All right," Arthur allowed when he was able to move past the second task. "If we're done with the second bit, then we're on to the third bit." He pulled the now-crumpled instructions out of his jeans' pocket and read aloud, "Next, you will need to determine what is most important to you in the world. A person, a place, a goal, or a material item; whatever that thing of importance is, you need to determine it. Once you have, you need to be able to give it a name and admit it to yourself. When you are being completely honest, you will know. I prepared for this one, too!" Scrambling off Gwen's bed and to his feet, Arthur ran through the door that connected his suite to the girls' and dug through his travel bag for the notebook in which he had brainstormed for this insane trip. When he found it, he ran back into the girls' room and flopped back onto Gwen's bed. "I made a list of the things that I think are probably most important to me."

"Well, let us see!" Gwen said, holding out a hand in a grabbing motion. Arthur spared a moment to wonder if he ought to be sharing all his most intimate details so freely, but, well, he had taken them on this trip, and it was a bit late to back out now. He handed over the notebook. Gwen cleared her throat and read aloud, "Arthur's list: my father, completing school, being someone that the people important to me are proud of, Morgana, Gwen, my mother." Gwen flipped the page. "Arthur, this is a very short list."

Arthur sighed. "I had another one, but I realized it was mainly things that I liked, not things that were important. Then I tried to make it in order of what was most important, but I don't know how you rank importance." He threw his hands up, somehow managing not to spill any of the wine held in his right hand. "How do I 'determine what is of the most importance'?"

Morgana rolled her wine glass between her fingers in a gesture that Arthur tried to mimic, but failed, embarrassingly managing to spill wine this time. "I suppose we could consider how you've accomplished your previous two tasks," Morgana said slowly, ignoring Arthur's wine mishap.

"Which is?" Arthur asked, mopping up the wine with some hastily acquired tissues from the nightstand and ignoring as Gwen quietly giggled at the foot of the bed.

"As reminiscently of a B-grade romance novel as possible," Morgana replied smartly, gesturing with her wine glass. "I mean, honestly, first there was poetic symmetry, and then you conveniently managed to meet one person who was the key to overcoming your second task as efficiently and cleanly as could be. Following that vein, we would simply have to consider how the protagonists in romance novels come to their realizations about what is truly most important in their lives and attempt to simulate those circumstances in our trip."

A loud squawking noise from the foot of the bed revealed itself to be Gwen laughing in a manner so unladylike that, prior to having seen it himself, Arthur would have claimed her impossible of managing. Unfortunately for Arthur's dignity, Morgana's logic was, well, logical. And sound.

And Arthur could see how it might work.

"Huh," Arthur managed. He downed the rest of his glass of wine and poured himself another before trying again. "All right, what do you suggest?" he asked.

"Since you don't have a one true love, or at least I don't think you do, the usual just-choose-her strategy won't work, which is good, as I don't think I could respect you if that were the case." Morgana took a sip of her wine that Arthur was sure was meant to be delicate, but turned into far too large a swallow. "Too shallow of an 'all importance,' I think. Anyway, the prevailing idea is that you find out what is most important when you lose it. When it's gone, you realize just how important it was, and then the problem is solved."

Arthur saw a problem; apparently Gwen saw it with him. "That's a great plan," Gwen said, pouring herself more wine. "Except for the part where Arthur would have to lose people. We can't fake anyone's death. He would obviously know they were faked. I think Arthur will have to engage in this hypothetical all on his own, if that's the case."

"So, what?" Arthur asked. "I have to sit back and imagine what the world would be like without all the things that I deem most important? And the world that is the least livable will give me my answer?"

Morgana and Gwen exchanged a look. "In essence, yes," Morgana replied.

"Well, that's just-- that." Arthur finished off his glass of wine and let himself fall backwards onto Gwen's bed, staring at the ceiling. It wasn't a hypothetical that he had to even engage his brain in for very long: more than goals, or personal freedoms, Arthur couldn't imagine a world without the few people with whom he'd chosen to surround himself. The problem was choosing which was most important. Or, really, if any could be considered more important than the others when, were they to leave the equation, the entire equilibrium would be permanently altered.

Which, when Arthur thought about it, was the answer.

But it couldn't be, could it? Because that was too easy. Maybe Morgana could explain away the second task as having been a fluke, but there was no way the third could be this easy, was there? Arthur raised his hand.

After a moment, Morgana said, "Arthur, why are you raising your hand? We're not in class."

"Because I have a stupid question, and it felt appropriate," he said, sitting up to look Morgana in the eye.

"Well?" Morgana asked, prompting him.

"What if I think I've figured it out, just from that? Do you think that would be too easy? Because I definitely do."

Gwen turned her head to raise her eyebrows at Arthur. "What did you decide?" she asked.

"The people who are most important to me," Arthur replied. "All of them, together. So I suppose 'friendship,' really. The concept itself? Something like that. Or maybe." He paused as something occurred to him. What Arthur couldn't imagine was a reality that existed without any of the people that he had come to consider family. People who were as good as family. "Friendship" didn't cover that bond, which encompassed "loyalty," "sacrifice," and so many other things. Things like whatever motivated Morgana and Gwen to be here, in Gainey, helping Arthur with something that didn't directly involve either one of them. Maybe, when Arthur thought about it like that, he could see the challenge of the third task. "What's most important to me is the record that, someday, will be left of what we are. That because we are together, we will have been more than what we would have been apart."

Morgana set down her wine before she said, "I don't think that was too easy at all, Arthur. I think that was perfect." She smiled and Gwen echoed the gesture. "The tasks were meant to test your courage and honor to see if you deserved the Pendragon name; I think this just means that you do."

Arthur fought the urge to check if Morgana was feeling all right, seeing as she had just complimented him, and he wrote it off instead as a pleasant side-effect of the alcohol. "Would this be a good time to mention that I'm pretty sure I've figured that fourth bit out, too?"

Laughing, Gwen replied, "We're all ears, Arthur."

"The directions said that once I'd removed what I needed to overcome and given name to my most important whatever, I'd just know where my soul was most peaceful, right?" Arthur grinned. "Well, that's pretty true. My soul's most peaceful wherever that bond is, and where that family needs me to be."

Morgana laughed. "So can we stay for the barbecue?"

"I think that sounds like a great address to give Mr. Legrace," Arthur replied, patting the paper in his pocket. "Until then, I think I'm going to pass out in your bed, Guinevere."

As he proceeded to do just that, Arthur didn't feel any sort of worry that this had all been, in fact, too easy. Instead, he just felt warm and comfortable, about to sleep off a bit too much wine in a hotel room with the two best friends he had ever made. In the morning -- or perhaps the afternoon -- he would wake up and get to know some people who would, hopefully, join that family.

When Arthur, Morgana, and Gwen drove to the Lakefront to join Merlin, Lancelot, and their friends for their summer barbecue, that sense of right hadn't faded. It didn't fade as Arthur made the phone call to Mr. Legrace from the Lakefront with the address of the fourth task, no matter how early it was.

Arthur joined his friends on the lakeshore with Mr. Legrace's, "I will have the paperwork delivered to your hotel, Mr. Pendragon. Have a good vacation," still echoing in his mind. Maybe by the end of the summer, it would stop seeming surreal. He didn't have any such hope that Morgana would stop drawing connections between Arthur and romance novel protagonists by then; that was simply hoping for too much.

He would settle for this feeling of right, and he hoped that it would stick around -- at least until the next adventure. Maybe that one would involve a dragon.

Just out of sight on the other side of the lakeshore, Mr. Legrace closed his mobile phone and turned to the man next to him with a placed expression and asked, "The location and ending are exactly as you predicted. Your interference was, as you suggested, unneeded. Might I ask why we are here?"

"I waited a very long time for their cycle of souls to meet once more. I could not simply allow myself to hear that my plan had succeeded. I wanted to see it for myself." His smile was not soft, as that was not a word often used to describe someone -- something -- of his age and power, but neither was it the cold, detached expression he ordinarily used.

Legrace laughed shortly. "Of course not, sir. I was merely wondering at your methods of securing that plan. Surely a more direct approach would have sufficed? For such a simple conclusion, you need not have employed such a complicated method."

The late Lord Pendragon -- obviously less "late" than Arthur had been led to believe, and perhaps quite a bit more than he seemed -- grinned suddenly, a sharp expression. "Would you have believed me, had I told you?"

Eyebrow raised, Legrace replied, "Perhaps not."

The lord smirked. "Besides, this was so much more fun." He clapped Legrace on the shoulder sharply, gesturing into the woods. "And now, I believe we have other things to do." He said a few more words in a foreign tongue, and the trees around them changed. In a few short steps, both the late lord and Mr. Legrace had disappeared into the surrounding trees. If they had been intending on revealing their presence, they made no sign of it. At least, not yet.

The sequel of today unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Whereof this world holds record

Notes:

A/N: Opening and closing verses are from Alfred Lord Tennyson's "The Idylls of the King," specifically found in one stanza of "The Passing of Arthur," which reads:
'The sequel of today unsolders all
The goodliest fellowship of famous knights
Whereof this world holds record. Such a sleep.
They sleep--the men I loved. I think that we
Shall never more, at any future time,
Delight our souls with talk of knightly deeds,
Walking about the gardens and the halls
Of Camelot, as in the days that were.
I perish by this people which I mad,--
Though Merlin sware that I should come again
To rule once more; but, let what will be, be,
I am so deeply smitten through the helm
That without help I cannot last till morn.'
It is Arthur speaking to Bedivere after the death of his knights and after he has felled Mordred, but after his own killing blow has been received. (Tennyson had an, uh, interesting version.)

The purpose of using these verses is that this story is sort of an undo of them. As in, in this circumstance, they are resoldering that fellowship, allowing for the record that the world holds to be rewritten in its previous image. No, I'm not a crazy English major at all. Er.