Chapter Four

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you alright?"

"Oh… yes, of course father."

Arthur picked up his fork and fumbled with the peas on his plate, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks. Once again, he had been caught mentally composing his next email to Emrys… something he found himself doing increasingly often. After five minutes of silence, he allowed himself to hesitantly look up, and found his father staring at him with a peculiar expression on his face.

"Is… something wrong?" Arthur asked, hastily.

"Son," his father put down his spoon, "you know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Of course, father."

The room filled with a thick, expectant silence.

Arthur picked up his glass of water and slurped loudly, pretending to not realize that his father was waiting for an explanation. Uther had very obviously noticed his son's recent preoccupied behaviour, but Arthur wasn't ready to explain the source of it. Mostly because he knew his father would be furious if he realized Arthur had been regularly communicating with a total stranger.

"What if they are from the press?" He would say, angrily "What if they found out your email address and are taking you for a ride?"

He was full of conspiracy theories… and Arthur didn't want to hear any of them. The emails he received from Emrys were the highlight of his week, and he wasn't about to let his father take that away from him.

Arthur had been shocked when that first letter arrived.

It wasn't so much that he hadn't expected a reply to his rambling email… it was more that he hadn't expected a reply to come so quickly. And he hadn't expected it to be so nice.

He was also surprised because he had never heard the name 'Emrys' before. He'd googled it, hoping to see where it came from; he assumed it was the name of a fictional character or a name from some other country, but no hits came up. Clearly, it was a fake name, but it intrigued Arthur that no one else in the world had it. How had she possibly come up with it?

He wanted to ask her, but he realized that that might break their 'confidentiality code', and he reluctantly dropped it.

It didn't take long for them to start a full-fledged correspondence, and Arthur realized quickly that he was extremely lucky to have found her… and on his first shot too. He felt like he could really talk to her. Granted, part of the reason was because she had no idea who he was and he had no preconceived notions about her, but more than that, they seemed to be on the same wavelength. Arthur found that he could talk to her about everything - from what other people would consider the most banal subjects, to things that excited him to his very core. He could be light and teasing with her, but could just as easily slip into deep, intense discussions.

Dear Emrys,

Have I told you about my dog? His name is Jesse. My best friend named him. You remember the friend I told you about who lives far away? Well, she's a huge Breaking Bad fan. Have you seen the show? I still haven't gotten around to it. She keeps pressuring me to, but I don't seem to find the time. Anyway, apparently there's a character in it called Jesse. According to my friend, he's the human incarnate of a golden retriever (apart from all the drug dealing stuff, of course). So when she heard that I got a golden retriever puppy, she insisted that I name him Jesse. I wanted to name him Dobby, because he has the biggest tennis-ball eyes… but she didn't let up. She always seems to get her way. So his name is Jesse now, and I love him more than I can possibly say.

Dear Ares,

What do you think happens after you die? I don't believe in God… so I've never really believed in a heaven or a hell either, but I like to believe that you go somewhere after you die. Personally I imagine 'heaven' to be an alternate version of our current lives. A version where everything happens they way we've always wanted it to. When I die, I hope I wake up in a huge, glass-walled apartment overlooking the sea, where I can spend my days reading and where my fridge never runs out of ice lollies.

Dear Emrys,

Have you ever wondered HOW you will die? I always imagined I would be run over by a lorry. Don't ask. It's just a feeling. Mostly cause I have this unnatural fear of speeding lorries. But it would be an awful way to die, because you would be smashed… and I would like an open-casket funeral where people can gaze at my beautiful face and cry about how the world is now deprived of it. And that can't happen if my face has tire tracks on it, now can it? But seriously, I'm not joking. I'm honestly terrified of speeding cars. Unless I'm the one driving them, of course.

The emails were usually extremely long and would come about once every week. Every Thursday, mostly. Arthur would send his reply on Monday and eagerly wait four days to hear from her. And when the finally reply came, he would crawl into his bed and read each and every word with relish.

"Arthur."

Damn it. He was doing it again.

"Hmm?"

"Son, I'm going to get straight to the point." Uther coughed into his napkin, and then gave his son a stern look. "I want you to promise me you will answer with complete honesty."

Arthur felt his throat constrict, but he made sure his expression didn't betray his inner apprehension.

"Of course, father."

"Are you seeing a girl behind my back?"

Arthur almost laughed with relief. He was worried Uther had seen the emails from Emrys, but it was just his father coming up with his conspiracy theories again.

Well, the King wasn't completely wrong. There was a girl… but Arthur certainly wasn't seeing her.

"No father, there isn't."

Uther visibly relaxed. "Oh good. I was worried you were going around with Marie."

"Marie who works in the kitchens?"

"She's a pretty, young thing. I thought maybe you were sneaking around with her."

Arthur frowned. "Why would it be wrong if I was?"

Uther's face hardened, "Are you?"

"I've already said no."

"Then why have you been so distracted lately?"

"I…"

Arthur bit his lip, "I'm nervous about university."

It wasn't a downright lie. His father had announced to him only two days prior that Sorsbrooke Academy - the university Uther and Arthur's grandfather had gone to - had given him admission. Arthur hadn't applied like all the other students, but he probably wouldn't have gotten in even if he had. Arthur didn't have the marks to get into Sorsbrooke. He knew the only reason they didn't reject him was because he was the crown prince, and the fact that the King called them up personally to demand they give him a seat.

Arthur had mixed feelings about the news. On one hand, he was mildly disappointed. Not because he didn't like Sorsbrooke - it was an old and respected school, with a extremely strict 'no paparazzi' policy to insure privacy for their famous and wealthy students - but because it was only on the other side of Camelot. Yes, the Kingdom was huge… but it would barely take his father a three hour drive to come and visit him. And while he loved his father, he was hoping university would give him the space he never had growing up.

Arthur had never studied in a 'school' environment. He had been homeschooled all his life, and while he had no problem meeting people and making friends, he'd never experienced being in a school where parents didn't have the ability to pop into every lesson and check on how he was doing.

But on the other hand, Morgana had gotten into Sorsbrooke, which meant that Arthur was finally able to be near the cousin he missed so terribly.

"That's what this is about?" Uther stared at him doubtfully and then laughed. "Sorsbrooke is nothing to be anxious about! Trust me, Arthur, you will love it there. Just as I did. And Morgana is going to be there with you, too."

"I know, and I'm really excited about that. I just… I wish I didn't have to take Percival along."

"I went with my bodyguard, and it turned out just fine."

"But I don't know Percival! Why can't I take André?"

"André is far too lax with you."

"I'm going to bloody university, father. Not primary school."

Uther shot him a stern glare. "Language."

"I'm sorry."

Arthur sighed and stared at the mashed potatoes on his plate, realizing how futile arguing with his father was. The man never saw things from Arthur's point-of-view. He never had.

"As I was saying," his father continued, "I had my bodyguard with me but that didn't stop me from meeting your mother."

Arthur's head shot up at that.

He knew the story of course, but he was always eager to hear about his mother. Uther rarely spoke about her. So when he did, Arthur listened quietly. Even one added detail to the story could give him a better idea of what she was like.

Igraine was just a shadow in Arthur's mind. He'd seen photographs of her - young, blonde and absolutely beautiful - but her appearance didn't matter so much to him. He wanted to know what she was like. So he nagged relatives and family friends to tell him all they could about her, because the more stories he heard, the clearer she got in his mind. He had to know everything he could about her, he would tell them, because he wanted to know if he was anything like her.

"I was in my second year and she was in her first. She was dating that fool Gorlois then. But I knew from the moment I saw her that we were going to get married."

Uther's eyes glazed over, and he got that dreamy smile he always got when he was talking about Igraine. Arthur couldn't prevent a smile of his own when he saw it.

"She was utterly uninterested in me at first. Said that she didn't care if I was a prince… she was from a well-to-do family so she had met 'plenty of bastards like me'." He grinned. "But I didn't let up. I was a perfect gentleman. I helped her carry her books, I gave her my jacket when she was cold… we would meet at the campus coffee shop, 'The Bean', to discuss books and poetry. Those were the days. That term went by in a dream."

Uther paused to take a bite of his chicken. He chewed it agonisingly slowly, thinking.

"It was at the dance," he continued, "It's a Sorsbrooke specialty… 'The Winter Ball' they call it." He laughed, and Arthur's smile grew wider. "It was a formal dance. They held one before every winter break - not sure if they still do it. Last I heard they had shifted it to the end of the school year and were calling it the 'Summer Bash'. How crass. Anyway, I danced with her all night. I could tell she liked me too, by then… she hardly said a word about him the whole time. I remember thinking how beautiful her eyes were… then he came in. He was furious. He hadn't been at the dance. He was late, some problem with his car or something. But he was so angry he attacked me with a swiss army knife."

Arthur cringed, as per his custom, when Uther pointed at the long, white scar on his forehead.

"But it was the best thing that ever happened to me. She broke up with Gorlois that night… and a week later she was mine."

Uther's smile faded and Arthur cut in immediately.

"More chicken, father?"

Uther took the bait, and switched the conversation to how the chicken had improved since they got a new cook.

Arthur let out a small sigh of relief. With everything going on, he didn't want to be reminded of his mother's abysmal end… and all that it had led to.

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