As one would learn over the course of a lifetime, of all men they had met, Arthur Pendragon was no common man.
Throughout his life, he was to always be singled out from the rest of them, for one reason no man could explain to another without feeling the sense of disgrace. Arthur would become aware of this feature early on in life, and would remain with him for life.
It was 1905, and Arthur and his schoolmates were taking a stroll upon the cliffs in southern England. These were usually accompanied by their schoolmasters, which there were three at Arthur's school. Most days like this were rather pleasant, and this day was, so far, to be no different. It was summer, and the temperature was mild, not humid, and blue skies stretched far over the dunes and out from the shore. Although taught several topics at his school, he had never been taught one lesson which was vital for man to know in life. Today was to be the last day at his current school, where he would be moving to a school for older boys. As one of the older boys of his school, Mr Monmouth, one of his schoolmasters, knew that by the time Arthur had settled in, his new school fellows would know what there is to the spark of life. Mr Monmouth also knew that Arthur was without any father, and recalls no older brothers, and therefore had probably not been given the 'talk'. The other schoolmasters, Mr Aglain and Mr Bayard, knew that such a conversation between pupil and master was inconvenient, despite Arthur's lack of masculinity in the household. Nonetheless, this wouldn't stop Mr Monmouth from reaching out to help the youngster through his studies.
Leading him up over the dunes and towards the shore, Mr Monmouth, who went by the first name of Geoffrey, was able to communicate with Arthur for a short time. This exchange of words would be the first clamp on Arthur's life.
"Arthur, Arthur! Can you come over here for a few moments?" Arthur heard the call, and like a good young boy would do, removed himself from the surge of adolescents and followed the tracks of Mr Monmouth, his pace quickening to catch up with the elder. "Sir?"
Geoffrey Monmouth would begin the subject very lightly, asking subtle questions to achieve the lesson taught. "Now usually, I'd call you Pendragon, but because this is such a topic, I'm going to call you by your first name. Is that okay?"
Arthur was curious as what Mr Monmouth was to say, so lightly answered, a fragile smile forming across his face. "Yes Sir."
"Arthur, you don't have a father do you?" Arthur stiffened on this question, wondering why exactly him and his schoolmaster were communicating over such a private topic, but nonetheless continued.
"No Sir."
"And you don't have any brothers or close kin that are of the male gender?"
"Right again Sir."
Having achieved the light approaches of the topic, Geoffrey would advance on to his main discussion.
"Now Arthur, I'm going to talk to you for a few moments. It is nothing that your mother could tell you, or something you can say out loud to anyone."
Arthur was indeed curious, but had the intention to know. "Of course Sir."
Leading them to the shore, Geoffrey found that the best way to explain such a matter was visually, and complete a diagram, using his end of his walking stick. Arthur followed the diagram closely, which made some sense, as he recognised his own body features, as well as those of a woman's. Geoffrey would go to explain to Arthur, in a way that fourteen, nearly fifteen year-olds could understand, explaining the stages of puberty, as well as the general topic of sex.
Closely monitoring, Arthur would never understand the true meaning of this diagram, as it so seemed then on, until he was completing his degree. Once the diagram had been completed, Arthur was confused on how to go about talking this is any ever questioned him on the subject.
"There, this shows the spark of life, created by man and woman in marriage. Of course you'll marry later in life."
"I think I shall not marry then," Arthur commented, not really taking any notice of the diagram.
"Oh, you will," Geoffrey chucked.
"Sir, what if the other boys ask of this in my new school?"
"Just shut them up by telling them that you already know about it. Say no more after that. I say, ten years to this day, I invite you and your wife to dine with me and my wife."
"Oh sir," both mused.
Abandoning the diagram as they continued retreating the way they came to merge with the rest of the party, Geoffrey realised that he hadn't eradicated the evidence, and rushed back to check. Arthur stopped mid-track, swivelled on his right heel and turned to find Geoffrey jogging back. "Sir! Won't the tide have covered it?" Arthur called. Realising the younger was probably right; he reduced his speed, returning to the pupil. "You're probably right. Thank goodness."
Arthur was to be in the wrong though. What neither noticed was that, although the tide was indeed coming in on that late, summer afternoon, there was another party approaching the shore; a young girl, probably of Arthur's age, a year no more his senior, and her mother as well as another female guest. The young female approached the diagram, which was beginning to be washed away by the tide, bewilderedness written across her brow, as the group joined her. Her mother quickly understood the evidence, ushering away the daughter by the words of "Come Victoria! Come!" And then the diagram was no more.
Moving on up through his next school, the final of his public schooling until university, Arthur took note of Monmouth's wise words, which stuck by him for a long while. Arthur began to physically notice the changes of his body, his voice growing deeper and so on. What he couldn't come to terms though was the supposed attraction to females. Monmouth noted that Arthur, like every other man, would some day marry and produce children together, having the attraction for females throughout his life.
But every time, and this way many of an occasion, he was introduced to a lady, he didn't seem attracted to her. That he never wanted to marry her, or even think of producing children with her. In their conversation on the beach, Arthur recalled that he should not marry, not having a warmed taste on the idea of producing children, now knowing the concept of how things worked, and his decision still remained the same.
What he did notice though, was the attraction to boys. Not every boy, but some. Whenever he was around a boy of his liking, he would be bolder, he would laugh louder, and listen when the other listened, and was also unable to focus working, yearning for something he couldn't quite make out. He could associate much better, and felt the strange urge to be constantly with them, although no one had ever spoke of this particular subject. Could a man like another man, like a man loved a woman?