Author's notes: I'm sorry if this is rather later on Friday than my normal posting time, but I've been watching the Glasgow Commonwealth Games and been pretty enthralled with all the sport and the results. I realise that probably not all my readers know what they are, but if you live in the UK, I'm sure you'll understand.
I have to thank the readers who left reviews for the last chapter. I hope I answered those that I could and for those guests, thank you so much for your continued support. I'm glad you're all enjoying this story. I'd also like to thank those who've chosen to follow or favourite me and my story. I think I've picked up quite a few more recently. Believe me, all the comments and the follows are very much appreciated. I do love to write but your encouragement is the icing on the cake.
I hope you like this week's chapter and, once again, I don't own Merlin.
0000000000
Chapter Ten
A Tale in Two Cities
Anna marched into the lobby of The Park Hyatt Paris-Vendome on the Rue de la Paix, feeling slightly unsettled. Somehow, she hadn't expected Eloise to stay at quite such a luxurious hotel, imagining her in somewhere less opulent... more intimate.
She herself always stayed at the Daniel, off the Champs Elysees, which was less extravagant and certainly more quaint, but without losing any of The Hyatt's comforts. Anna could, of course, afford the very best, but she preferred to live within her own means and not rely on her father's fortune. It boosted her feeling of independence.
Though, as she passed through the busy lobby to one of the restaurants, she couldn't help but be impressed by the sleek, modern décor. If this five-star hotel didn't suit Anna's idea of Eloise's personality, it certainly suited her standing in the world.
As always, Anna had checked the background of her new friend. Not that she didn't know who Eloise Blessed was; the woman had an extremely high profile, but Anna found she couldn't switch off her own journalist instincts which had made her wary of taking anyone or anything at face value.
In her day, Eloise had been a top model, but she hadn't been content with her place in her chosen profession, which, it had to be said, wasn't always fair to the young wannabes it employed. She'd opened her own fashion house with a line in clothes and cosmetics, she'd become an agent with a highly respected school which taught every aspect of the business from modelling to design. This highly successful, confident woman had intrigued Anna from the time she'd first set eyes on her in Cannes and, though she'd been a little surprised to be sought out, she'd been flattered, too. Now, if she could only land a shoot with Ms Blessed, she'd be over the moon.
Anna found her way towards the Le Pur restaurant where she was to meet with Eloise, but she was a little early, so she stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts. The last thing she wanted was to appear flustered and, without doubt, the phone-call she'd just had with her father had upset her. If only it had been Mum who'd answered her call. If only Benedict Penderel didn't expect everyone to jump when he said so.
She'd managed to explain, when finally she'd got a word in, that she was meeting someone regarding a job. At that, he'd calmed down a little as he understood the necessity of a good work ethic, but when he'd said goodbye, he'd added the express wish to see her back home by Sunday, at the very latest.
With a promise and a request to pass on her apologies and best wishes to her mother, Anna had closed the call with some relief, amazed she'd succeeded in being slightly dishonest with her father. Very often, he seemed to have a second sense of whenever his two children were telling him less than the truth. Thankfully, not this time.
Yet, Anna was slightly puzzled why she was so relieved. It was true she was hoping to persuade Eloise into giving her a chance to chronicle her life-style in pictures - celebrity magazines would be fighting each other to acquire such an article, but that wasn't her sole purpose. She couldn't deny she felt a strange affinity for Eloise. She wanted to get to know her, but Anna hadn't lost all her investigative instincts. There was an air of mystery which surrounded Ms Blessed and her entourage and Anna was determined to discover its source.
Why she should be feeling nervous, she'd had no idea. Hadn't she embarked on this kind of mission more times than she ought in her short, though successful career? And in more dangerous places than a highly exclusive restaurant in one of the world's most sophisticated cities. This was an occasion to enjoy her work.
She took a deep breath and approached the maître d'hôtel, willing the butterflies in her stomach to be still. She hadn't felt this excited since she'd been on her first date with a friend of Arthur's with whom she'd thought herself totally in love. Of course, she'd been seventeen then and if she needed anything to calm her down it was the memory of that disastrous date. Not everything in life lived up to expectations and probably this encounter would be no different. Surely the allure she'd felt toward Eloise in the heat and excitement of a Cannes' night would disappear in the light of day.
Following the host, she was escorted to a table in a quiet corner of the restaurant where she was told Eloise would join her in a few minutes. Anna sat back, looking around her as she waited. In her line of work, she'd learned how to be patient, and her work didn't always take place in such pleasant surroundings. She'd done shoots in famine torn areas, disaster struck countries and even places decimated by civil wars. In comparison, this restaurant was infinitely preferable.
She revelled in the atmosphere of elegance; warmed to the stylishly dressed clientèle as they socialised with their families, friends or business colleagues. Thank goodness she'd worn her emerald green day dress with its matching bolero jacket trimmed with bead-work. Her black patent stiletto, platform shoes and purse finished her ensemble.
Although, Anna was one of those beautiful women who looked good in any kind of attire, from jeans and khaki shirts to a kevlar jacket and helmet, today she felt good not just to fit into this world, but to dominate it.
Yet, suddenly, Anna knew that was untrue. A faint hush fell over the large room as Eloise swept in the door, and, not waiting for the host, she began to walk to her table. Clearly, Ms Blessed was a frequent visitor, meaning she had a table reserved just for her.
Anna almost gasped. To describe Eloise as doing anything as common as walking was almost insulting. She watched as this exquisite lady glided toward her. She was impressed, but her anatomical mind, sharpened over her career of capturing award-winning images, acknowledged that Eloise was probably not the most beautiful woman in the world, nor even in this room. Eloise had more than physical perfection of form... she had panache; she had presence and a magnetism which drew every eye.
Eloise's white sheath dress and yellow swing back coat seemed somehow reminiscent of the sixties, yet it suited her flawlessly, while her golden hair was swept up into a strange clasp of silver netting, studded with minute diamonds. On a normal person, such an ornament might be considered a little incongruous for a lunch time meeting, but it appeared completely in keeping with Eloise.
As she threaded her way amongst the tables, Eloise smiled to a number of acquaintances, but she didn't stop until she'd reached Anna. "Welcome, my dear," she said in a soft lilting voice. "I've been looking forward to meeting with you again." The host appeared behind her and held the chair for her to sit down. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."
"No, not at all," Anna reassured her friend. "I only arrived moments ago, and I've been luxuriating in the ambiance. It's lovely."
Making herself comfortable in her seat, Eloise smiled back. "You haven't been here before? I had assumed you might have stayed here with your parents."
"No. Mother isn't a fan of living in grand hotels, so she persuaded Daddy to buy a little apartment... well, to be honest, it's not so little... for when they come to Paris."
"That's probably a lovely notion for your parents. Unfortunately, my work commitments don't give me much time to look after a home. Staying here in this hotel and allowing myself to be pampered suits me very well."
"I agree," Anna said, happy to find herself in accord with this woman she admired. "When I'm on my own, I stay at the Hotel Daniel. It's sweet and not so expensive, but I like to make my own way."
"Ah, you prefer to be independent. I like that in a young person." Eloise smiled again, nodding her approval.
Anna found herself returning the smile enthusiastically. "Exactly. Plus, I prefer not to let my parents know all of my whereabouts."
Eloise's arched eyebrows rose higher. "They don't approve of your job?" She lifted a hand, slightly, beckoning the hovering maître d'hôtel, who approached and, unobtrusively, placed the menus on the table.
"Oh, Mother does! She's always encouraged us to follow our dreams." Anna grinned, remembering her mother's quiet support, but her happy expression quickly disappeared. "Father wasn't exactly enthusiastic when I told them I planned on going to art school, but I'm pretty sure he realised I'd follow my own path regardless of what he wanted. Since I've won the occasional award, I think he's secretly proud. Actually, not so secretly." Anna found herself feeling a little dreamy as she pictured her father at her first award ceremony, his crinkled cheeks wet with joyous tears. "He might pretend to be an autocrat, but he's actually proud of how his children have turned out."
Eloise inclined her head. "I can't speak for Arthur, but in your case, Benedict ought to be very proud. After all, you're an extremely gifted young woman."
"Thank you," Anna replied, smiling again. This woman made her feel good about herself, but it didn't stop her from enquiring. "Do you know my father?"
"Only a little. We've met socially... but no, I'm not familiar with him. I once knew your mother... long ago, but I doubt she'd even remember me."
"How did you meet my mother?" Anna asked, sensing there might be a story and eager to hear about it. After all, she'd already decided to do more extensive research into Eloise... for work purposes.
"It was back in my school days. I was a very young pupil and she was already head girl, about to take her place in the world." Eloise shook her head, dismissively, when in reality she was shaking off a memory. "Like I said, I'm sure she didn't even notice me."
"Still, it's nice to know we have that connection," Anna said, feeling this encounter was going very well. "And knowing my mother, I'm not at all sure you're right. She's very good at noticing people."
Eloise laughed, a warm tinkling sound. "Who knows. Perhaps we'll find out in time." She paused for a second, lifting the menu. "Shall we order now? But before we do, I've a confession to make; I asked you to meet me not purely for pleasure, though it is that too, but because I have a business proposition to offer you. It's been brought to my notice, that in this day and age I should be advertising my wares... my agency and modelling school." Eloise seemed to sit a little straighter. "Now, call me old-fashioned, but I find advertising in the normal way quite vulgar. A large photo on a billboard or on the side of a bus, or a couple of minutes TV time..." She shivered in distaste. "I find those concepts quite daunting, but then it struck me that a tasteful photo-shoot, published in some chosen magazines, might be very acceptable. And, as fate would have it, I met you. There's no one to whom I would rather trust my school than the award winning photo-journalist, Anna Penderel."
Anna sat there feeling more than stunned. She'd come here hoping for just such an outcome and she'd been willing to try every persuasion in the book, but now she didn't need to. The apple had dropped right into her lap. However, Eloise was talking again, and she returned her attention to her friend and, soon-to-be, client.
"Don't say anything yet. Let's eat and we can discuss our business afterwards. Though I should tell you that I would expect you to devote all your time and energy on my behalf. So, please, only say yes if you're willing to give me all of your passion, sweat and tears... metaphorically speaking, of course." And, once again, Eloise's bell-like laughter filled Anna's ears.
Speechless, Anna could only nod. She was happy to devote a few minutes to studying the menu and she barely managed to order in a voice which wasn't much more than a whisper. In her head, she was frantically weighing her options. Which contracts might interfere with this new work and if there was any way she could shelve them for the present. There was no doubt whatsoever in Anna's head that she'd agree to work for Eloise.
Many photographers had tried to find a way into Ms Blessed's hallowed halls, but none had succeeded. Yet she had landed the job. Hell, she'd even start right after lunch, if that's what Eloise asked. The fact that she'd agreed to go back home by Sunday slipped completely from her mind.
0000000000
On the other side of the channel, in the headquarters of Camelot Industries Arthur was confronted by another confession... and a far from pleasant one.
Matthew had asked for an audience first thing in the morning and he now stood rather ill at ease in front of Arthur's desk. "I'm sorry, Sire," Matthew blurted out, colouring up at his too direct approach.
Arthur's eyebrows rose while his chin dipped as he stared up at the young man. "Sire?" And when Matthew didn't reply. "Don't you mean sir? And believe me, there's no need for titles. Arthur will do fine... or Mr Penderel, if you feel you must." He knew he was babbling like a brook, yet his mind refused to accept the fact that Matthew knew he'd once been Mordred. "You're sorry you haven't been able to figure out who Morgause is?"
"No!" Matthew's voice was loud in the sun-bathed office. "Yes! I mean, I haven't figured that out... yet, but I'm sure I will, given the time. Though I have to admit she's very clever... She's using the Dark net, if she is a she... But that makes it more difficult to trace her, but I have the software..."
"Matthew, I don't mean to complain, but do you think you could get to the point?"
For some seconds, Matthew's gaze seemed to concentrate on the scene beyond Arthur, the tiny white clouds scudding across a pale blue sky. He was almost visibly shaking. "That wasn't what I was apologising for." Again there was another silence, as if he were steeling himself for his boss's reaction. "I'm sorry I killed you."
"What?" It was Arthur's turn to remain close mouthed.
God. How did he reply to that? If only Merlin were here to advise him. Wait. He could call him telepathically, but he quickly discarded that idea. Merlin had said Mordred could mind talk too, so there was every chance he might overhear. Where was the... idiot when he needed him? Most probably taking a well earned sleep in.
Fine. He'd once been a king and he was now Camelot's Chief Operations Officer with a roving remit, who answered only to his father. Surely he could deal with this situation without anyone's help.
"Are you planning on killing me and apologising before hand?" Arthur asked, stalling for time.
"No, Sire." Matthew was warming to his revelation. "I think you know exactly what I mean. I was so angry at you for executing Kara, I wanted revenge. I knew Morgana was the only one who could give me what I thought I deserved. Only, she was wrong. Such hate should never triumph, but I realised that too late. The moment I struck you down at Camlann, I saw I'd allowed myself to be corrupted by her obsessive enmity and I was glad to die for what I did to you."
Clearly, Matthew remembered everything and there didn't seem much point in denying his recall. "I offered Kara a pardon, you know. I gave her a chance at a new start, but she was brainwashed by Morgana... and she had killed quite a few of my men, a fact she seemed quite proud of. She refused my offer and I had no choice but to execute her. If it helps, I didn't carry out that decision lightly." Arthur placed his elbows on his desk, leaning forward, he caught and held Mordred's gaze. "Now what? Do you want to kill me again?"
"No! Never. I was wrong, which is why I'm saying sorry... though I know it isn't enough." Matthew stepped forward till he was almost touching the desk. "I want to help you and Merlin, and this time perhaps I can atone for what I did," he said earnestly.
Arthur sat back, almost recoiling from Mordred's closeness. "That remains to be seen. Why should I trust you?" He tipped his chair back and watched the other man closely.
Shaking his head somewhat sadly, Matthew answered, "There's no proof I can give you..."
The chair dropped back in place and Arthur stood. If this man was a sorcerer, he would stand little chance against any ill he wished to do him, but Arthur refused to show fear. Instead, he asked another question. "Why is it that out of all the people I know who've been reborn you're the only one who remembers his past life? None of the others... Gwen, Lancelot... my parents..."
"Perhaps because I have magic," Matthew suggested, interrupting his boss, anxious to prove his worth.
But Arthur wasn't prepared to accept that explanation. He physically squared up to Mordred, or Matthew as he was calling himself this time around. "That doesn't hold up. Anna had magic. She was more powerful than you and yet she has no idea she was once a High Priestess. As far as I know, she has no magic this time either."
"I didn't know either," Matthew explained, trying to remain calm. "Not till I was introduced to you and Merlin. And it didn't happen right away. When I saw you together, I had a funny feeling that you both seemed familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on why. Then I went to sleep that night and I dreamed of Camelot. Not as she is now, but the long-ago world."
For a brief moment, Arthur said nothing. This young man's supposition could be right. Fiona, who was once Alice and who had magic had remembered after seeing himself and Merlin together. But that realization didn't help him deal with Matthew. He decided this was a time for plain speaking.
"Then why didn't you come in here and attack me? After all, Mordred hated my guts."
The new Mordred shook his head decisively. "That's not true, or it was, but only at the end. I was lost in grief and Morgana exploited my feelings... but I'm not using her as an excuse. I was the one who betrayed Emrys to her. I was the one who killed you, using a blade forged in a dragon's breath. Yet the moment I ran you through, when you looked directly into my soul, I knew I'd slain a good man. One who didn't deserve to die. I was happy to leave that life behind." Matthew clasped his hands, almost in prayer. "For so long, I've been awaiting the chance to make amends... and I promise this time I'll not waiver, nor let you down."
Arthur wasn't sure what to reply. His instinct was to trust this man, but he'd done so once before. "Merlin, where are you? Can we trust this Mordred?"
And right on cue, Merlin almost fell into the room, causing both occupants to turn in his direction. "Morning," he said with a wide smile. "What have I missed?"
Having felt somewhat abandoned, Arthur bypassed the pleasantries, going straight to grumbling. "You're late. Where have you been?"
"What? It's only just past nine, and traffic on the A48 is diabolical," Merlin said, still smiling, though he sounded a little upset at Arthur's greeting. "Besides, for more than a week, you've had me chasing all over the UK. Do this, Rhys... do that, Rhys. Oh, let's go there Rhys and I'm whisked off in the blink of an eye. It's no wonder I needed a lie in."
"You've no stamina, my friend. You should train more. Or, you could move closer to work, that would solve your commuting problems."
"You're kidding? I happen to like where I live, and you think I should find somewhere nearer just cause it suits you?" Rhys huffed, wandering further into the room. "Not everyone can afford a penthouse on the bay. You always were a selfish... lunkhead!"
Arthur bristled, while his eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "You're calling me a lunkhead? Have you forgotten I can have you fired?"
Rhys shrugged. "No... but you won't. You need me."
Using what he hoped was a private telepathic communication, Merlin asked, "What's with Matthew... and why did you sound so desperate?"
"He knows! He remembers his past life. He just came in here this morning and confessed to everything, killing me, the lot. But now he wants us to forgive him and let him help."
"He does? Boy! I didn't see that coming." Merlin looked concerned. "What have you told him?"
"Nothing yet... I didn't want to say anything without talking to you first." Arthur was trying to maintain a deadpan expression but he felt he could crack at any second.
Meanwhile, in the short hush that had fallen over the room, Mordred had started laughing. "You two are priceless," he said and both men turned to him. "You haven't changed one bit. Always sniping at each other, instead of admitting your feelings. You remind me of the good days in Camelot, before everything went down the tubes. I'm assuming you're having a private mind conversation?"
"Telepathy you mean? That's crazy," Rhys said as he tried to buy some time till he worked out how best to deal with this Mordred. "You've been reading too many fantasy books."
Arthur, however, recognised the game was up. "Merlin, don't waste your time. This is Mordred. He knows all about your magic. The question is... what is he going to do about it and whose side is he on."
"Well, that's a start," Mordred conceded, still maintaining his friendly expression, but his laughter died. "I'm not going to do anything but what you tell me... and I truly am on your side." His steady gaze moved between Arthur and Merlin. "I don't expect you to believe me without conditions, so have me watched. Do anything which will make you both feel better, but give me a chance... please?"
There was another moment of silence, more drawn out this time, as Merlin and Arthur thought this offer over. Finally, Arthur shrugged and allowed Merlin to speak. "I suppose Arthur's right and there's no point in continuing to deny we're who you say. Yet, we don't trust you... not yet. It's possible you are a member of the light this time around. I actually think you tried to be that in your past life, but you went over to the dark side of magic the moment you were tested."
Arthur was still looking a little surprised at his friend admitting he'd been right, but he dragged his attention back to Mordred. "That's a good point, Merlin. Who's to say you won't do that again."
"I won't! But I can't give you any guarantees." Mordred shook his head, looking crestfallen at the reminder of his fall from grace. "I don't know the future. I don't think anyone does in this life. I certainly haven't heard any prophesies..."
"You haven't?" Arthur perked up at this statement of fact. "Have you, Merlin? You were the one who foresaw my death at Camlann. How about now?"
"No," Merlin stated, his voice sharp at the thought of losing Arthur again. "But that doesn't mean the future isn't written somewhere."
"And Aithusa didn't mention when we met her the other day..."
Arthur was interrupted by Mordred's awed question. "Morgana's dragon is still alive? That is so cool!"
"Would everyone stop assuming she was Morgana's dragon, because they were only together because of circumstances," Merlin said, slightly fractious. "I'll admit they looked after each other, but Morgana wasn't a dragonlord."
"And you are?" Mordred's pale blue eyes opened wide in astonishment. "Why didn't I realise that?"
"Because Merlin is very good at keeping secrets," Arthur replied, his drawn brow showing he was still a little disgruntled at that fact. He knew there was no point in raking over old coals, but he wished that Merlin had seen fit to tell Arthur before he was dying... tell him. This reincarnation business was confusing sometimes. "But none of that matters. Clearly, we three know who and what we were and who we are now. But we don't know who our present enemy or enemies are, nor what they're planning. Merlin - I suppose we should call him Rhys, since it helps us focus on the present. Rhys and I believe that this Morgause has something to do with those plots and we need your computer skills to smoke her out. For the present, that's all we're prepared to tell you, but if you do seriously want to help us, then prove yourself by staying true to the oath you took as a knight all those years ago." Arthur moved till he was standing directly in front of Mordred and he looked every inch the legendary king. "You let your shield of honour fall... now is the time to pick it up again."
Metaphysically, Mordred knelt, his eyes bright on Arthur's face. "You won't regret your choice, my lord. It's all I've ever wanted... to serve you again."
"Thank you, Matthew." Arthur stressed the up-to-date name. "Just work hard to discover who this person is. She may just be an ordinary blogger with a conspiracy theory, or she could be who she pretends to be. Whichever it is, I'm relying on you to track her down."
"I will. In fact, I'll get right back to that," Matthew stated, almost backing out of the room. "She won't be able to hide from me forever. After all, I do have magic... which I promise to use in your service... both your services." He glanced again at Merlin. "Emr... Rhys, if you want to place any boundaries on my magic, I wouldn't object. I know I have a lot to do to win back your trust."
Merlin's lips pursed as he considered Mordred's offer, but he quickly discarded that idea. If the enemy had as powerful magic as he surmised, they'd need all the help they could get, and keeping Mordred onside seemed important. Besides, he sensed the Druid's magic was less strong in this present day. He'd be able to handle Mordred should the need arise.
"No, Matthew. That won't be necessary. If Morgause is the High Priestess reincarnated, then we're going to need all the forces we can muster," Merlin said, slowly at first, but warming to his theme. "In fact, you should probably brush up on your skills. Your magical aura is nowhere near as strong as it was a millennium and a half ago."
"I know, though I have no idea why. I'd love to practise, especially if you'd help me, Merlin... I mean, Rhys." Apparently, Matthew was having difficulty keeping the two timelines apart.
"Right, if you two warlocks have finished, we'd all best get back to business," Arthur reminded them, assuming his position as COO. "Matthew, you get back to your computer, but remember this work is highly confidential. Gwen knows about it, so you can confer with her, if neither Rhys nor I are around... though Gwen doesn't remember her past life and I don't want anyone reminding her. Stick with the present day stuff when talking to Gwen and remember to call Merlin Rhys in public."
"I will... and I won't stop working till I've found our illusive blogger. This time, I won't let you down." With a final bow, the young man turned and left the room, feeling a whole lot happier now he'd laid his cards on the table and not been fired.
Left alone, the two men exchanged glances but it was Merlin who spoke up, voicing their worries. "We had no choice but to trust him and, if it makes you feel any better, I sensed no evil in him. At present, he barely has magic, though probably enough to manipulate a computer."
Arthur nodded and started tidying his desk. "Let's hope you're right." He instructed his tablet to shut down. "Come on, Rhys. I've told Gwen to find us a house near Easdale. Much as though I like the luxury of hotels, I think it best we have the privacy of our own place. You, Drew, Gwen and I are flying up to Glasgow on Sunday. We'll rent a car and drive to wherever Gwen finds us a house."
"Gwen's coming with us?" Rhys asked, more than a little surprised. "I would've thought you'd want to keep Gwen and Drew apart."
"I need Gwen there... for work purposes only, before you start getting any ideas," he added quickly... too quickly. "And, I told you, Gwen is perfectly free to make up her own mind about who she dates."
"Really?" Rhys asked again but his voice was edged with scepticism. "You looked really jealous last night."
"I did not!" Arthur stopped, expecting Merlin to contradict him, but his friend just grinned knowingly. Robbed of a chance to argue his case, he returned to business. "Gwen's coming because I need her to set up a base of operations. Got it?"
Rhys couldn't stop laughing, but he did try. "Sure, I understand." He decided to stop teasing his slightly flustered boss. "Have you any idea how long we'll be away? I only want to know what to pack," he concluded innocently.
"I've no idea," Arthur admitted, shrugging on his suit jacket. "I suppose it all depends on how quickly we find anything. I'd have preferred to start out tomorrow, but I can't put off my parents' dinner party, particularly since Anna is missing in action."
"Have you heard from her?"
"I'm afraid my sister is blocking my phone-calls. Don't worry, it's the sort of thing she does when she's feeling guilty," Arthur explained while pulling down the cuffs of his white shirt. "I just have to be patient and wait till she sees fit to get in touch. Now, you and I are off to the labs. I want to check the latest chemical reports from our fracking sights around the UK. Make sure they're in the clear. We can't afford to be blind-sided."
As Arthur and Rhys passed through the outer office, they saw Gwen talking on the phone, while Matthew sat behind his computer screen, beavering away. Gwen quickly looked up, covering the mouthpiece.
"Gwen, we're going to visit the labs, then we're meeting Drew for lunch," Arthur informed his PA, his voice business-like, yet his smile anything but. "How's that booking coming along... had any luck?"
"Not yet," Gwen answered, a frown appearing between her brows. "But don't worry, I'll keep at it till I find something. It's very short notice though, so we might have to take pot luck."
Again Arthur smiled. "I'm sure you'll find us something, Gwen. I've every faith in you."
Pointing at the phone, from where a rather frustrated voice was calling, Gwen mouthed an apology and returned to her conversation. "Yes... I'm here," she said to the caller, waving good-bye as Arthur and Rhys left. She would find some place. She would walk over coals if Arthur asked it of her.
On the other side of the office, Matthew's blue-green gaze deepened. So, there was still a connection between Arthur and his queen. The revelation made him smile. It was just like the old days... but not. This time there would be a happier ending, if he had anything to do with it. Oh, boy! He was working with King Arthur and Emrys. Being reborn was full of surprises.
0000000000
Author's notes: How do you all feel this story is moving along? I thought it was about time you were introduced to a few more characters from the show... or the reincarnated versions. Also, I've finally introduced Anna in person. This time round, their roles aren't exactly the same as they were centuries ago.
If you have the time, I'd love to hear your opinions on this particular chapter and on the latest characters to make an appearance. Would it be too cheeky to say thanks in anticipation?