Disclaimer: I own none of them. Not one. Sadly the only thing I own is the premise for the story.
A/N: I don't even know what to call this – AU or what. It's the twisted product of some twisted conversations. I honestly don't hate Arthur, nor Lancelot…they just really know how to annoy me many days. If the idea of the author having a conversation with the characters bothers you, close this fic now. Go no further. You've been warned in my best stern voice.
Cough.
I roll my eyes and pretend not to notice, hoping the interloper will get the hint and leave.
Cough. Cough.
I look at the reflection in my computer monitor and sigh. It's Arthur Castus. My head drops a bit…I know if he wants to talk, there's no getting rid of the man. Hints don't work and neither does the direct approach. I know – I've tried countless times. For a man who is considered fairly intelligent, he really can be dumb.
Cough. Cough. Cough.
"OK, OK, OK already!" I turn and snap at him. "I heard you the first freaking time." I fix my best 'this-had-better-be-good' look on him, cross my arms and sit back in my chair. While doing this, I notice Uther standing a short distance behind, looking apologetic; I shake my head and heave a deep sigh. This is not boding well for my morning.
"Well if you heard me…" Arthur's voice trails off as I pause in the middle of pulling my hair back into a ponytail. I can only guess the disbelief and annoyance that I am feeling are reflected in my face clearly. I exchange looks with Uther, who shakes his head and waves half-heartedly as he departs.
It's my turn to (fake) cough and clear my throat. Silently I vow revenge on Uther for whatever part he played in Artorius showing up at my desk with whatever problem was plaguing his world today. I reach over and finger my KA notebook, vowing to work harder on a fic wherein I get to deliver Uther his comeuppance.
Taking a deep breath, I decide that the best course of action is to confront this…whatever. "Yes, Arthur? With what can I assist you today?" I try a pleasant tone but it comes out sounding a bit sarcastic and I wonder if he knows I am eyeing up the sword hanging on the wall behind him. That would definitely assist me, at least.
"Well…umm…"
"You know the rule, Arthur. Spit it out or shut it up…"
Arthur sighs and points at the encyclopedic dictionary on the shelf. He motions for it and I hand it to him, admittedly intrigued. He flips it open to the map section and studies something intently.
"You look in this book frequently, saying it is the know-all of the book world, yet no where on these maps does it reflect the boundaries of the Roman Empire." He shuts the book emphatically and reaches over my shoulder to replace it on the shelf. "I have concluded then that obviously this book is mistaken and am worried that you refer to it constantly and rely on its information."
My first reaction is disbelief, followed quickly by quiet laughter that shakes my entire body and the chair I am seated in.
"Seriously? Really?" I am in complete shock as he looks at me, obviously horrified by my amusement with this query.
I regain some composure and decide the direct explanation is the best. Probably not so much for him, but it will be for me.
"No, Arthur…the maps are correct. The Roman Empire no longer exists. It hasn't existed for…" I pause to do some calculating, but math was never my strong subject. "Let's just say it's been a long, long, long time and leave it at that."
"But…" Arthur's expression is a mixture of dismay and confusion. "It can't be." He shakes his head. "The Empire was going to last forever."
I snicker. "Yeah…tell that to the Egyptians…and the Persians…and, oh, don't forget Alexander… The Roman Empire is gone, Arthur. Over. Done." I really am enjoying this a bit too much.
"But…"
The man is definitely having acceptance issues. I take a deep breath. It's going to be a long morning, I realize again.
"The Pope. The Church. It was all…they commanded the world…" Arthur shakes his head sadly. "What happened?" This comes out more like a wail as he slowly sinks to his knees, covering his face with his hands.
I almost feel sorry for him as I walk over and pat him on the head.
"Well, Artorius, it goes something like this, short version: Rome gets too big for its britches – the whole expansion into Britain was a bad idea. The beginning of the end, more or less, and leaving the island didn't do too much to help. Then everyone gets too greedy and too…complacent, shall we say… Barbarians invade and, yeah, that's pretty much the end of the Roman Empire as you remember it."
I look down and realize he is crying. Tears are trailing down his cheeks as he shakes his head in horror.
"Hey there…" I feel somewhat guilty, having just destroyed the man's faith and confidence in all he has ever known. "You guys do leave some lasting marks on the world, so not all is lost."
"The Pope though… The Church…" He looks up hopefully.
I snort and nod. "Oh, don't go worrying over the Pope. He manages just fine, trust me. Got his own little city-state thing to rule, a whopping nice palace, couple vacation homes…some merchandising opportunities… Trust me, he's the last fellow you need to be worried over. And your religion becomes one of the biggest on the planet." I decide now isn't the time to address the missteps and foibles of either. The man did just learn that the entire Empire he fought for and believe in collapsed into a heap; I'm mean but I just can't bring myself to stoop to that level. At least not right now…but tomorrow is another day. I struggle to keep the grin from my face.
"But the rest?"
"Yeah…the rest goes bye-bye for the most part. Kind of. I mean, Italy does become a hugely popular tourist and vacation spot. People come from all over to see the architecture and statues that the Romans leave behind. You just…well…don't have an Empire anymore." I shrug, not quite sure what else to say to the poor man so I settle for patting him on the head one last time and returning to my chair.
Alerted by the wailing of his commander and best friend, Lancelot saunters in, bag of cheese popcorn in one hand and licking the orange off the fingers of his other. Oh lovely, Tweedledummer has come to join Tweedledum, making my morning complete.
"What's wrong, Artorius?"
I listen as Arthur gives Lancelot an abbreviated version of my abbreviated accounting of the fall of the Roman Empire, managing to keep my snickering silent.
"It's alright," he reaches out and places his still orange coated fingers on Arthur's shoulder and squeezes. "You can come home with us. You know, to Sarmatia."
They both turn and look at me hopefully. I groan and put my forehead down on the desk, wondering just how I am going to explain that Sarmatia doesn't exist anymore either…
