Disclaimer: Again, let me state for the record, I own no one except me and the story idea.

A/N: If you haven't read White's 'Once and Future King', I can't call it a "must-read"; alternately, it also isn't the worst book you could read. Though some of the Knights will definitely beg to differ…


I return to my chair and can barely keep myself from giggling. I almost feel bad. Almost but not quite. Well, ok, I do feel rather bad for the guys who now have to endure being part of the Orkney clan since I think White really does seem to have a personal vendetta with them…but I'm rather sure I'll be over it pretty quick. I take a quick glance at my watch; yep, over it already.

"Alrighty then…" I smile at Uther, whose expression is vacillating between confusion and anger. "Where shall I start...?" My train of thought is interrupted by a commotion at the book shelf. There is a yelling match going on that is quickly deteriorating into a shoving match. Oh my, the Orkney's have decided to show just how special their familial ties can be…

I clear my throat. Loudly. "Hello…Clan Orkney…" I wave as if that will somehow help stop the shoving that is now taking place. As I get out of my chair, I notice Mordred has appeared to join his half-brothers. Nice. He always…helps them lose control so effectively. Instigator. At least Gawain has decided to stay clear. When he gets into "Orkney mode" as I call it, things get broken and he ends up naked out in the snow. Don't ask.

I try again. "YO! Dysfunctional Clan Orkney!" This gets their attention. I move closer to observe what is going on, noting Agravaine and Mordred distance themselves a bit too hastily. "Gaheris…Gareth…" I look at the book in their hands. "Le Morte D'Arthur? Really? What on earth…were you trying to smuggle that out of here? What were you going to do, tear it in half and each one shove a half down your pants?" I am laughing as I finish but quickly sober when I realize they are not and are, in fact, looking rather sheepish. I snatch the book, shuddering in disgust, and turn to the other two – Mordred and Agravaine – holding my hands out for whatever they have. Mordred sighs and turns over King Arthur. I persist and he produces The Compleat Cast of Characters in Literature as well. Satisfied that I have de-booked him, I turn now to Agravaine, smiling at his attempted innocence.

"Give." I hold out my hands and he sighs resignedly. From him I collect Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, The Return of King Arthur and The Mists of Avalon. I shake my head, not even bothering to enquire just how he was planning to get the books out.

"Now. If the attempted book thievery is over, let's begin."

"Ummm…what were all those books?"

"Books about Arthurian legend."

"About me?" Arthur sounds excited and I am only too glad to crush that happiness.

"No. Not only about you, sheesh. What do you think? The entire Arthurian universe revolves around you?" I roll my eyes. "There are other people in the Arthurian series. Seriously, it would suck rocks if you were the ONLY character in the entire series."

I feel a migraine starting and just want to clear them all out of here as fast as possible.

"Alright. So…is the book thieving over?" I look at the back row, where the Orkney clan has resumed their seats. They're glaring at me now; this book is their least favourite. Most days, just motioning toward it is enough to send them scurrying. Having it in my hands has to be twisting their innards into tight little knots, the thought of which, I can't lie, makes me smile and gives me warm, fuzzy feelings right now.

"And can we all agree to just keep our cake holes closed, let the nice lady speak," I point to myself here, in case there is some confusion over who I meant, "and we'll get this wrapped up all neat and tidy so everyone can just be on their merry little way…" I really want to tell them where I would like them to go, but I'd be too tempted to start drawing pictures.

The group nods at me, though the back row continues to simply scowl. I shrug. So I'll end up paying for this later. It'll be worth it. I hope.

Clearing my throat, I take a deep breath and decide to just plunge in.

"Arthurian legend contains many, many…versions of stories of the Knights. The Woads, well, we'll just call you the filler people and go on from there, 'k?" This brings nods and agreement, so I'm once again feeling optimistic. "Oh, except you, Merlin. You get mentioned by name." A collective ooooh and aaaaah sound fills the room; awe-filled from the Woads, sarcasm laden from the back row.

Sighing, I return to the explanation.

"Anyway. As Arthur alluded to, this is kinda sorta the story of his life…not just this book, but Arthurian legend as a whole. I prefer this book in some ways because, well, I have to admit Arthur, I smile every time I read you referred to as 'Wart'." At this, laughter breaks out and chants of 'Wart' begin with, you guessed it, my pals in the back starting it. "And, to be honest, that's about the only reason I like this book. I think the man has issues with certain persons for completely un-warranted reasons." Lively agreement comes from the back and is hushed by the others.

"But…I don't…why…"

I look at Arthur and hope he can read the 'will-you-shut-up-for-once-and-let-me-speak' message in my eyes. I want to say this, but to do so effectively I would have to add many expletives and either strangle the man or smack him – neither of which would probably be wise since it does seem the Woads have become slightly awe-struck by him. That was definitely not part of the plan. Crap.

"Anywaywho. So Arthur becomes king…"

"Uh… 'scuse me…"

I look for the source of interruption and am shocked. Is that really Bors being so polite?

He scratches his ruff and looks around; I can tell he's feeling slightly sheepish by whatever he wants to ask. This must mean it's something good.

"Uh…I was just wonderin' that…well…if'n Arthur becomes king that means that someone was already king an' well, I was jus' wonderin'…" Bors' voice trails off and he looks slightly embarrassed.

Oh, I would kiss that man if I knew Vanora wouldn't crush me like an insect.

"Funny you should ask, Bors. Let me tell you." I put on my best fairy-tale-telling voice and sit down in my chair, making sure to get all comfy and smug. "Uther was king before Arthur." I smile at the man himself and bat my lashes a bit for effect. "And he was…a good king, a fair king…"

"A king with a lot on his plate and not a lot of resources to work with. So he did the best he could and then his son becomes king. Can we move on?" Uther waves his hands dismissively as heads turn first toward him, then toward me. I don't have to look to know that the back row dwellers are smirking and trying their hardest not to bust a gut.

"Well now, Uther…let's not be so hasty, shall we? The good people want to know all about…"

The look he gives me…I want to reach for one of the lovely shields that have been left under my desk, but I resist. No, the best way to handle him will be to just go on with the explanation.

"According to all accounts, Uther is a good and just and fair king. As a father, however, let's just say he was an absentee daddy and let it go, eh?" I smile widely at him as his scowl deepens. "Merlin raises Wart, I mean Arthur, and eventually Arthur becomes king by pulling a sword from a stone, leading to the founding of the Round Table, complete with the Knights…." I add the last part hastily, hoping no one will notice.

"Who he tries to kill…"

"Yes…yes…what are you complaining about, Mordred? You survive. Really. Get over it."

"He's not perfect."

"Yes. Neither are you, Mordred, so just stop right now." I hold my hand up to silence his protest. "Really. I mean it." I use the stony Tristran look I've been working on lately and to my amazement, it shuts him up! Though I suspect the hard poke from Agravaine next to him helps a bit too.

"Yeah, Mordred. Shut up and let the lady speak. Maybe she'll move on to Lancelot. Or Ugly-a-lot, as we affectionately call him."

I sigh. Of course Agravaine had to chime in about Lancelot. I look at our Lancelot and see the confusion writ on his features.

"What? I am not… Tell them I'm not... You're just jealous, you oversized, smelly ogre who wanted to bed his own mother…" Lancelot has stood and is moving toward Agravaine, who has likewise risen and motions Lancelot closer.

I decide to step in. After all, forest droppings are easily steamed out of carpeting; blood, not so easily.

"Alright. Alright. Everyone just settle it down a couple notches. Yes, Lancelot, in the legends you are not at all an attractive man. In fact, truthfully, you are written to be downright, blatantly, inexplicably ugly." I watch as his lip droops and he assumes the wounded puppy expression. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

He bounds across the room into the open arms of his commanding officer and said officer's wife. I really do wonder if they have some sort of weird ménage à trois thing going because I've just never believe that Arthur didn't know… Whatever. That's their business and the less I know about it, the happier I (and my stomach) am.

"So. Now. Does everyone have all their little comments and remarks and whatnot out of their system? Can we leave off who wants to sleep with whom, no matter how revolting? And above all, may I please continue so all of you can get the hell out of my house and leave me alone?"

The entire room nods as one.

"Good. Now. This book isn't actually all that important," I shoot a warning glance toward the back row and Mouse puts his hand over Agravaine's mouth. "It's really the title of the book that means anything. Once and future king and since I know nobody in this room except me gets this, I'll explain."

I refasten my ponytail for the umpteenth time. Definitely gonna be a deep conditioner night after a long, hot shower.

"So…obviously we all get that Arthur, at one time, was king of Britain. Since he is mortal, it only follows on that he kicks off at some point. Of course, jackass, you choose to do it fighting your own son who is…I don't even know, help me out here – he's got to be oh, maybe, say something like thirty years your junior – and you expected to kick his ass…? Really." I shake my head and mutter 'idiot' under my breath.

"I win."

"Not exactly there, poster boy for inbreeding. You don't get away either, in the majority of accountings. Dear old daddy here has some tricks up his sleeve and you end up biting it as well. Obviously, we can conclude from this that the brains did not run in the male side of the Pendragon family." I look pointedly at all three Pendragon men, daring even one of them to argue. "In fact, I think only Lancelot here walks away and that isn't unscathed either."

Hands shoot up all over and since I already know the questions, I ignore them. "Do I really need to run down the list? Seriously? Fine. Gaheris and Gareth, Lancelot whacks you guys. You too, Agravaine – in many accounts, outside Guinevere's bedchamber. Let's not delve into motives right now, dearest, but I will clarify that it has nothing to do with sleeping with her, ok? Gawain, you too bite it at the hands of Lancelot outside his castle. Again, we won't delve into motives. Galahad, you…well…you're on some island in a cave being all chaste and happy with a cup." This brings laughter from everyone and I have to admit, the picture I get is quite amusing and I allow myself to laugh as well before I pick up again. "Bors…Dag…you guys are well and happy somewhere, but not like Galahad happy with the cup and all…just normal happy. I think. Tristran…yeah…you've got your own set of problems and we won't touch on those here but it involves women as well, so make your own assumptions." By all assessments, the Scout looks pleased with this and produces another apple from somewhere to slice and dice.

Taking a few deep breaths, I look around to make sure everyone is still following. Looks like they are.

"Well…turns out that supposedly inscribed on Arthur's tomb or headstone is wording to the effect that here lies the once and future king. Well…it seems some people take that…well…seriously. They are waiting on you, Arthur, to return to Britain in the hour of greatest need and take the throne again, lead them out of adversity and…well…take care of business." I'm not really sure how else to explain it, so secretly I hope they've somehow gotten it.

"Not Uther?"

Bless Bors' little heart. Really. I am beginning to think I am a bit too hard on the man and his sense of timing. Must remember to write a future fic where Bors gets a bit of a better shake.

"No. Not Uther. They don't want him back and have, in fact, all but forgotten about Uther. In a lot of stories he doesn't even get mentioned by name." I smile sweetly as he scowls, throws his hands up and stalks off. Thank the gods. One down, I do a quick count of the room, giving up after I hit twenty-five and decide to call it a whole lot more to go until I have peace again. Unfortunately, I am about to get anything but.

"Let's go then."

I blink hard. Did I miss something somewhere? Arthur has stood and is surveying the room full of warriors.

"Ummm…Arthur… Excuse me as I think I missed something. Go where, exactly?"

"To Britain!" He sounds positively triumphant. I swear the man seems to be glowing.

"Why…?"

It's his turn to look at me like I'm the idiot.

"To save her. Them. It. You yourself said before the Empire had crumbled, so it is my duty to go there and return it to its splendour."

Oh dear gods what have I done? I can only think of my friends in Britain being invaded by this…group…on their island… They'd kill me. They'd get on a plane, come here to my home and kill me and any sound-minded judge would pardon them. I'm fairly certain of this.

"Ohhhkay there, Artorius…let's just calm down a bit and think this through." Think it through. I haven't even thought this through. There's only one possible reason why he can't do this. "You and everyone else in this room are, well, dead. Dead men – and women," I add when Guinevere gives me one of her looks, "don't fight battles, don't win wars and most especially don't run empires. Oh so sorry, looks like you'll have to cancel the invasion, call off the war, take the kids and go find some other way to pass the afternoon."

I smile as I watch Arthur and company turn this over in their minds, hoping they will not question further, merely accept and move on. Accept and move on. I am silently chanting this, trying to project it into the minds of the group. It seems to work; Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot rise as one and walk off, arms around each other (I swear to gods there's something incredibly creepy going on there but I still don't want to know). I assume the rest will follow in time. Truthfully, as long as they stay silent, I don't particularly care.

Closing my eyes and letting out a sigh of contentment, I relax into my chair. Peace at last.

Cough. Cough. Cough.

My eyes spring open. Why didn't they follow him? It was perfect. They were supposed to follow him off into the sunset or whatever…

"Ummm… We have some other questions…"

I don't know if I should cry or just beg someone to run me through with their sword. Instead I let my head hit the desk and wonder just how long this can go on.


A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and encouraged. Feel free to grab the Knight, Woad or Once and Future King of your choice on the way out as my holiday gift to you. No refunds, no returns, no exchanges, so please choose wisely. Thanks so much and happy holidays!