Disclaimer: No, I don't own Merlin, BBC does. Just putting it out there. :P And, of course, I want to thank the Lady Proemess for being my amazing beta, for putting up with my occasional blonde moments... :D

Chapter Eleven

Dear Colonel Anderson,

I hope this letter finds you well.

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter, as it does not contain joyful news. It pains me to tell you that Kelly has been injured in an attack on Camelot. Her deeds, albeit inventive and brave, have nearly cost her life. Merlin has attempted many healing spells and Gaius supposed that she is experiencing a delayed response to healing magic. He cannot explain this, though he does report that she is healing, just at a very slow rate.

Kelly has not awakened since the incident, but our Court Physician has noted a rising state of awareness over the last three days; he has informed me that this is wonderful news, indicative of her head injury becoming a lesser concern. I will continue to keep you informed as to her condition.

I am so very sorry, Sir. I do not really know what else to say. I love your daughter and Alexandra with all my heart, and I beg your forgiveness.

Yours Most Humbly,

Prince-Regent Arthur Pendragon

The Marine Colonel read this aged parchment repeatedly, his eyes scanning the elegant black script before him. His eyes filled with tears at the thought of his youngest child in such a state. And then, to think of what Alexandra was going through...

David lifted his gaze to the portal. It had opened to facilitate delivery of the letter only minutes ago, but the fact that it was still open made his decision all the more tempting...

Clutching the letter in one hand, he tentatively stepped toward the mirror, aware that all he had to do was reach in. He had watched them leave that way, only six days ago. But, damn, it had looked like a soul-ripping experience. To watch a human body deconstruct itself had been mind-blowing.

The big man steeled himself and reached forward. This was his baby, and his grand-baby. Thoughts of them surpassed any fears he might have had. Before he knew it, he was reaching and falling. So, this is what it feels like to jump through time, he thought fleetingly. I am going to be sick...

~.~.~

Arthur's exhausted gaze drifted over toward the open bedroom window. Sunlight streamed in through the stained glass, casting a cheerful light upon an otherwise bleak environment. He had sworn there were a couple of times in the night when it looked like Kelly might come around, but then she was gone again.

He sat next to her bed and spent most of his vigil praying to the Gods that Kelly would get through this. And when he started to lose faith, he swore he heard the feisty redhead chastising his lack of faith in Merlin, the gods, whatever or whoever the power might belong to. And he had apologised out loud, holding her small hand in between both of his. When the silence became too much, his mind began to provide other interesting conversations in a replication of her sweet voice.

Some might have deemed him a loon, he expected, but he was beyond stressed and missing the one woman who really understood him more than anyone could possibly imagine. But he could find no words to say. He could only sit silent and be grateful that Kelly still breathed beside him with that quiet, steady rhythm of hers.

He had once asked her how on earth she could be so quiet when she slept. Her answer: "I practice Yoga in my dreams." She had said this with a straight face, only to smile when he laughed.

The Regent wanted desperately to say something, to voice his sentiments, but he was no poet. He didn't know how to put his feelings out there in a tangible way. Glancing about the room, his mind spun to come up with something. Something to show how much he loved her, to tell her he was sorry for letting her down at such a crucial moment...

Flowers, Arthur thought suddenly. Lots and lots of flowers—all over this room. He made a mental note to have Merlin go out and collect a wide variety and in copious quantities at the next best opportunity. Arthur thought it might remind Kelly of his first attempts court her, back when they had first met.

Arthur had sent Merlin to her chambers daily for about a month following their first meeting, and each time the servant had left varying gifts. It was the flowers that won her over, he recalled with a smile. He had even written her short notes, leaving them in strange places on a bit of a lark, knowing her penchant for a good laugh. Arthur learned quickly enough that something done with a bit of humor did more to lift her spirits than fine things ever did. Of course, she never failed to retaliate with small gifts of her own. The most amazing, he remembered, had been the mobile he had awakened to one morning. At least a hundred folded paper cranes had danced in the sunlight, hung from the ceiling some time during the night, leaving the Prince stunned beyond belief...and overjoyed that this fine woman returned his affections. And it went on like that for months. It was, Arthur recalled, the best year of his life.

Thinking back on those past events, how nothing he had done back then could possibly make up for how badly things had gone in the Throne Room, Arthur committed himself to finishing whatever assignments Kelly had left to complete for her Residency. His own traitorous thoughts shot back, You and what scholar? He knew he was beginning to bargain over items and deeds that he could never deliver. Desperation, he supposed, played a fair role in this.

Gaius returned, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Sire," he said gently, "Go get some sleep. You're across the hall—I will call for you if anything changes." He saw panic etched across the Prince's drawn features, and Gaius simply nodded encouragingly. "Go. She'll be fine."

Arthur stood, holding Gaius' stern expression. He nodded shakily, admitting his need for rest. "Yes, you're right," he said so quietly it was almost a whisper. "Gaius, please—if anything-"

Gaius nodded solemnly, watching as the Prince moved to leave the Lady Anderson's chambers.

The door clicked shut softly as the Regent left the room. He trudged the short distance between Kelly's room and his own, his shoulders slumped with the weight of his own state of worry and guilt. Arthur blamed himself for this entire disaster. Perhaps if he had planned better, if he had been more prepared for the unpredictability of battle...So many what-if's and if-only's ran through the Regent's tumbling mind.

Arthur shut the door of his own chambers and leaned against the door for a moment, his eyes closed as he surrendered to the weakness dragging at his limbs.

He opened his eyes to see Merlin rushing about his chambers, straightening up the mess Arthur had left behind as per the usual. Merlin looked exhausted himself, and his typical, goofy smile was nowhere to be found. Arthur wouldn't doubt if the man felt like he had somehow failed in his bid to save one of his closest friends.

Knowing his friend's common thought processes, the Prince spoke up. "She's not dead, Merlin. You've done your job to the best that you could, even if it is taking longer than it takes to wake you up in the morning, mind you, but you've still done your job."

Stormy blue eyes locked on the Prince's lighter gaze. Arthur's cheeky statement had been completely ignored. "Still hard to see her like that," Merlin mumbled, folding the Prince's laundered clothing. Merlin looked up at Arthur, asking with haunted eyes, "Any changes?"

Arthur moved to sit on his bed, kicking his boots off. Shrugging, he reported, "Gaius says she is becoming more aware. I just wish we could hurry things along..." He glanced around his chambers, his eyes settling on his desk. It was stacked with books and Alexandra's colouring tin. "Where did Alex go?"

Merlin gestured toward the window. "Sir Saer's son came looking for her. They went outside to play, kick the ball around…" He shrugged, setting the mop aside. He bent to pick up a fallen stuffed toy dolphin. "And I thought you left a trail! Five-year-old are so much worse for that. So far I've found a sock, a stray shoe—to which I have no idea where its partner is—those 'little people' figures, and now a stuffed toy." He paused, blinking at Arthur in exasperation. Pointing to the Prince, he stated, "No doubt about it—she takes after you in that way." Merlin proceeded to set the toy back on the table, on top of the book stack.

Arthur glanced over at his window and furrowed his brow. Growing up, he had never been allowed friends. His father had cited many times how he was above the nobles and commoners alike, and how such luxuries as 'friendship' were not to be had with the Royal family. 'Friends', his father would say, 'will only be with you because they want status or favours'. This had left the Prince with a certain cynicism toward people in general. That had only started to change when people like Merlin and Arthur's Knights made it perfectly clear that they were there for the long haul...but his father's teachings had certainly left an indelible footprint in his life. "Am I the only one who sees a problem with Alexandra's association with Aedan? He's a noble's son, sure, but-"

Merlin whirled on the Prince, and he put his hands out to stop Arthur from taking this question any further. "Arthur, this is something you have a problem with because your father has drilled this egalitarian concept into your thick skull," he said firmly, unapologetic. "Alex comes from a time where she has many friends. You have to accept that she has been raised differently. She is very social, very talkative, and frankly, she's far more pleasant than you any time of the bloody day!" The Prince hadn't missed that jibe and only smirked in response, nodding. "So, do yourself a favour; don't try to change her. She's everything that's great about her parents…and then some." He set to work picking up Arthur's laundry and made to leave the room. "Anyway, I'll leave you to rest, Sire." Merlin smirked on the way out, putting the appropriate sarcasm into that last word.

Arthur nodded, crossing his arms. "Merlin?"

"Yes, Sire?" Merlin paused in the doorway, turning to look at his master. He crooked a brow in question. Waiting patiently.

Arthur glanced around his now neat chambers and nodded in thanks at his servant. "Thank you. I know the extra work has been harder to keep up with, especially in the face of...everything as of late."

Merlin paused, a little bit surprised by his master's words. He raised an eyebrow, unable to help the smile as he said, "I daresay Kelly's rubbing off on you, Arthur." He paused and pointed toward Arthur's desk. "By the way, before you do anything else, I suggest you first take a look at the drawing on your desk. Alex wanted me to make sure you saw it 'yesterday'." The warlock smiled, again exiting the room. He closed the door softly behind him.

Arthur stood and did as asked, truly curious. When he rounded the desk, seating himself in the padded chair, he stared at a brightly coloured drawing. Alexandra had drawn six figures standing by what looked like the ocean, and she had printed the name of each represented figure overhead, obviously having had someone's help. Merlin, no doubt, Arthur thought with a small nod of approval. It was very reassuring for the Regent to know who could be counted upon to offer support where needed.

The Regent lifted the sheet of paper and took in every aspect of the creation. For as tired and disheartened as he felt, this small gift did something to lift his spirits. Perhaps it was seeing 'Mommy' and 'Daddy' on either side of 'Alex', flanked by the faithful servant and Camelot's most unorthodox Knight... He couldn't help but smile when he read the hastily scrawled, bright pink phrase: 'I LUV U, DADDY!'

Arthur had an idea, then. Not just flowers, no...No, some of Alexandra's artwork. Drawings as bright as this with the flowers, he thought. Would they be enough? Enough to ease your own guilty conscience? his inside voice asked in the back of his mind. This was all new to the Prince, and he didn't know if he was going overboard, but it was better to be overdone than not done at all.

~.~.~

Uther had just stepped out into the corridor when his son's door shut softly, and that manservant-turned-sorcerer was walking off in the opposite direction. The King had been thinking about his options since learning of the sorcerer in his midst, and now was the time to act. He had only to manipulate a few variables..."Merlin!" he called.

Merlin froze in the corridor and turned with obvious hesitation. "Sire," he greeted, bobbing his head respectfully. What he saw in the King's eyes scared him slightly. He knew this man's hatred for magic. He was left to wonder what on earth the King could possibly want with him, now.

Uther opened his chamber door, motioning for the sorcerer to enter his chambers. "A word," he stated curtly. With hesitation the young man passed him and moved to stand in the centre of Uther's chambers, his eyes looking every which way but at Uther. Uther smirked at this man's fearful reaction to his order. And you should be afraid, he thought with satisfaction. He clasped his hands behind his back and slowly circled the boy as a hawk might circle its prey. The King's gaze drifted toward the window momentarily, his mouth set in a thin, hard line.

"You put me in a very tough spot, boy." He shot Merlin a dirty look, catching the leap of terror in the man's deep blue eyes when they met for but a moment. "My son believes you have saved Camelot from a terrible fate," he began, shaking his head in disagreement. "You hid your nature well, Sorcerer. Tell me, how did you manage to fool us all?" Uther halted, right in front of Merlin's face. He leaned in closer, invading Merlin's personal space. "An enchantment, perhaps?" he prompted, his eyes examining the magic user before him.

"Y-Your Highness," Merlin stuttered, visibly shaken by the King's wrath, "I-I have never-"

Uther sought to completely intimidate the manservant. He raised a hand as if to backhand the manservant, lowering his hand only when the sorcerer seemed suitably shocked into submission. Uther spoke slowly, concisely, each word enunciated perfectly. "By my own laws I should have you executed." His grey eyes scanned the criminal's pale face with obvious disgust. "But I have plans for you, and unfortunately those plans require you to be alive..."

Uther summoned one of his guards to fetch his son, and he sat wordlessly staring at the manservant. He heard the door open and shut softly, and he turned his head to watch the very wary Prince enter the room. "Ah, Arthur," he greeted coolly. Cold calculation sharpened his features, and the look on his son's face illustrated that Uther was conveying the right sense of foreboding. "Have a seat." He gestured to an empty seat.

Arthur narrowed his eyes with obvious suspicion. "My Lord,what is going on?" he asked carefully, meeting his servant's visibly rattled blue eyes. Looking back at his father, he saw an unsettling, hard look on his father's face.

Uther seated himself at the head of his table. "You value the life of your servant, do you not?" he asked, gesturing in an offhanded manner toward Merlin.

"Of course I do," Arthur said evenly, his hands gripping the armrests. He fought to maintain what power he had in this conversation.

Uther sat forward to glare at his son, his hands folded together in front of him. "If I were to spare this sorcerer's life, I would demand something of you in return, Arthur." He watched his son's eyes widen marginally, darting quickly toward an equally surprised Merlin. He flicked his hand toward the servant. "Everything he did in the Throne Room, no one saw even a hint of magic." He appraised his son's hopeful yet suspicious reaction.

Arthur's mouth was suddenly very dry. Knowing that his friend's life hung in the balance caused his head to spin a bit. He nodded. "What do you want?" he asked levelly, trying to keep a stoic face.

Uther spread his hands in a grand gesture. "Swear on your servant's life that this wedding will take place. I want no excuses." It was cruel to put out such a demand, but Uther had to put out the guise that he was merely trying to secure Camelot's future. In truth, he knew he was sparing the sorcerer's life for his own tactical gain. Camelot could greatly benefit from the presence of a sorcerer that the other kingdoms knew nothing about. They knew of Uther's very strict edict against the use of magic and the harbouring of sorcerers within Camelot's lands. "And if I must truly spell it out, Kelly and Alexandra cannot leave," he continued. He watched Arthur's face darken in anger. "Do we have a bargain?"

Arthur turned a shocked gaze between his father and Merlin, catching a barely perceptible shake of the head from his manservant. Arthur nodded his ascent and spoke softly. "You have my word, Sire." He sounded far more sure than he felt. He had known his father to be cruel and calculating, and a strong King...but this was insane. He couldn't help but think that there was more to this 'bargain' than the King was letting on.

~.~.~

Some time later, Merlin sat back from the bedside, feeling a little less worn after trying to pour more of his magic into Kelly. It was getting easier, he noted. Her body had stopped trying to repel the magical intrusion, and the multiple bone breaks were nearly healed.

Gods, he could not get the image of Kelly flying back into that wall out of his head. The extent of damage had been horrifying. Three broken left-side ribs, her left wrist (shattered because she had fallen on it so damn hard), and she had sustained a skull fracture when her back had snapped back on impact, and her head had hit the wall. The sounds had caused the warlock to gag initially, as he had only been able to imagine the damage at that time...It made him sick just remembering, and he was only too thankful that his magic had been able to reverse most (if not all) of the damage.

He stared at Kelly's inert form for a very long while, and in the darkening chamber he whispered, "I'm sorry. This never should have happened to you." His voice sounded as broken as he felt, and he reached over to touch her good hand. He couldn't help what came next. "But if you had told me what you were planning, I could have backed you up! Why did you think you could act alone on such a risky stunt? We could have-" he choked on the words and tried again, swiping at fallen tears. "We could have lost you, and then where would any of us be, now?" He sounded like he was reprimanding a child, he knew, but he was still angry with the time traveller. And at the same time, he felt so...guilty. He hadn't reacted quickly enough, or with enough force toward Morgana. His head hurt—there was too much going on, and his thoughts were beginning to sap the rest of his energy.

Merlin sat with his head in his hands for a while longer, letting the room's silence soothe his aching head.

~.~.~

The man groaned as he slammed into the floor, rolling to lie on his side, then to his back when he caught his breath.

David blinked several times, his eyes scanning the beamed ceiling overhead, the musty looking room full of antiquated laboratory equipment, and he knew without a doubt...he'd crossed over. He was where he had intended to go, though he had no idea how long it took to get there. He felt like his brain had gone a few rounds with the nearest blender...

The Marine knew he looked completely out of step with this place, wearing his typical jeans and t-shirt ensemble, a pair of runners on his feet. He really hadn't thought about the 'after' part of arriving at this place. "Shit," he swore softly, struggling to his feet. He clasped a hand to his skull and groaned in pain as a migraine-like headache pulsed to life all around his skull. He felt all around his head, checking for blood, expecting to find a gash with the way his head throbbed. Nothing.

Behind David, a door closed with a soft thud. He turned and faced an old man in a long blue tunic and dark pants, white hair...Wait, he'd been told who this was...

"Good heavens, I left the scrying fount active," the old man murmured in dismay. "I truly must be distracted...". He seemed afraid for a moment, but rearranged his features to be more pleasant. "You are the man Prince Arthur sent the-the letter to?" Gaius could certainly see the resemblance between Kelly and this man.

David straightened to his full height, squaring his shoulders. "I am," he stated simply, walking to get his circulation going. "I want a word with that boy. No, scratch that." he turned to face Gaius. "I want to see my little girl right now," he growled menacingly, moving so that he stood within the old man's personal space, towering over him.

Gaius fell back a step and nodded shakily. "Yes," he agreed, nodding. "I understand, Sir. You must be so worried." He saw the American's face soften with that note of understanding. Gaius paused to collect his packed bag from the work bench. "I-I was just on my way back to Kelly's chambers with some herbs. Some painkillers, you see."

David paused for a moment and nodded, feeling his heart try to leap out of his chest with every beat. He'd almost forgotten his own pain in his state of upset. He winced slightly as it came back to mind.

Gaius glanced over at this giant of a man as they walked. "Should I prepare a painkiller for your headache, too, Colonel Anderson?"

David nodded, feeling very awkward for having cussed out the poor old man beside him. "Please do," he responded quietly. "Gaius, right?" He strode down the long, winding corridors of this ancient castle keep. His eyes wandered the walls with undisguised curiosity and admiration. David was a bit of a history buff.

"I am," the Physician answered cautiously, keeping stride with the man with some difficulty.

David slowed a bit, finally stopping in the middle of a corridor, where huge, arched windows overlooked the castle courtyard and beyond that, a training field of sorts. He looked at the man, then, bowing his head respectfully. "Gaius, I'm sorry," he stated gruffly. "If I insulted you on my arrival, I apologise. It wasn't right." Setting a hand on his hip while rubbing a hand across his face, he paused to look outside at the setting sun and then to the physician. He held out the letter in illustration of his flow of emotions. "It's just...when I got this letter—Gaius, I don't think I need to tell you what the news did to me." David pursed his lips to stem his rising emotions.

Gaius set a comforting hand on the man's arm, gently pulling the Colonel to walk with him. "I understand completely. If it were my own daughter..." He met intense brown eyes and nodded. "I, too, would be very upset." He offered a kind smile. "Come. We must travel to the North Tower. The Royals reside in that wing." David nodded and did as directed, recognizing Gaius' sincerity.

Along the way, heads turned in obvious curiosity, and murmurs of discussion followed. It wasn't until they reached the second floor of the North Tower, that one of the Knights left his comrades and jogged over.

"Colonel Anderson," Gwaine greeted softly, bowing his head respectfully. "I'm assuming you got the letter, Sir?" He enacted the American greeting and shook David's hand firmly. "Good to see you all the same, Sir."

David heaved a sigh and nodded. "I did. And thank you, Gwaine." He clapped a hand on the knight's shoulder. "Are your boys all right, son?" He remembered reading about the list of casualties and injuries.

Gwaine nodded solemnly. "We lost a few good soldiers, but on the whole, we shall persevere." He gestured over his shoulder. "Come. I'll take you to Kelly's chambers." He reached and took Gaius' bag from his slumped shoulders. "I'll take that for you," he said a little too happily, giving the Physician no time to protest. Gaius frowned at Gwaine in irritation for a moment, ultimately deciding to accept the gesture with a gracious nod of his head.

Two guards stood in front of the door, and they stepped aside, the first opening the door inward for the trio with a polite bow. "Sir Gwaine, Gaius," he greeted, narrowing his eyes in confusion at the strange, mountainous one.

Gwaine set a hand on his shoulder, whispering, "That's the Lady Anderson's father. Afford him every courtesy." The guard's eyes widened in recognition, and he nodded stiffly, leaving the room.

David approached the four-poster bed and had to keep himself in check upon the sight of his youngest child. "Oh, my God," he moaned, his voice cracking with emotion as he fell to his knees beside Kelly's bed. "Kelly, honey," he said softly, smoothing stray locks of red hair back off his child's face. "Baby, what were you thinkin'?" His accent was strong with barely concealed anguish. "What the hell did you get yourself into?" David tried to sound upbeat, hoping to draw his child back to the land of the living with the sound of his voice. "You are fearless, and it used to give your mamma and I one helluva heart attack when you were little..." He kept brushing her hair back, like he did when she was sick and small.

David lifted his head when he heard the bedroom door open, and then close softly. The footsteps halted at the entrance.

A refined, strong baritone voice spoke up, and a regal looking man approached the bed. "My condolences, Sir Anderson," he said, his own voice etched with pain.

David's eyes settled on an older man, middle-aged with a greying head of hair, who stood five-foot-ten or eleven. He was wearing what probably passed for expensive clothing in this era, including a floor-length cape. David supposed this was the King's idea of daily attire. He wasn't wearing his crown, though; he probably only wore it for formal functions, meetings and the like. "You can call me Colonel Anderson, and condolences are for the dead, Your Highness. Kelly's healing, just not as fast as you or I might like," he stated firmly, levelling a worn gaze on Arthur's father. "My baby's no quitter."

Uther pulled a chair up to the bedside. Sitting beside the American, he watched his ward. He nodded his head, stating, "You are right about that. But what on earth made Kelly believe she could hurt the witch? Surely she knows the destructive force that is sorcery." His expression made it obvious that he completely disapproved of his ward's actions. He really did not want Alexandra to live without her mother...as his son had endured from birth. He would wish that upon no one.

David's ears perked up a bit upon hearing this new detail. He turned his head to observe the King. "A 'witch'? I got the note that she got hurt in battle," he drawled, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Uther nodded, a bit surprised by this man being left in the dark over such an event. "Arthur didn't elaborate," he concluded softly. Crooking a brow, Uther sat back and idly rubbed his chin. "It is my opinion that Morgana chose to return because somebody, likely a druid, had given her the news of the nuptials to take place, well, three days ago..." he waved his hand at the scene before them. "Obviously that isn't the case, just yet. But, in three days' time we will be prepared and we can get on with it. Kelly should be back on her feet well before that." Uther was busily working through the wedding details in his head, taking into account Gaius' report that the doctor was showing greater signs of improvement.

David saw the King's calculating gaze as his eyes surveyed Kelly's still form. It clicked, then, what the King was talking about. David leaped to his feet. "Now, hold on, here!" His voice had risen with the realization. "Who said anything about a wedding? She came to help make you well, and she's done that. She had plans to come back home in one month's time," David argued sharply, his eyes darkening with anger.

Uther stood, squaring his shoulders, absently straightening his cape. "Alexandra is Arthur's daughter. Therefore, she will be made a legitimate heir to the throne." Uther tilted his head in question. "One would expect that you would be thrilled by such news. You do know that Arthur is next in line to be King of Camelot, do you not?" He watched with some amusement as the large man visibly restrained himself, his nostrils flaring. "I fail to see how you find this news distressing, Sir." Uther waved his hand dismissively, adding, "The announcements have gone out. We have already begun preparations for the feast. My decision is final." Uther turned with a swirl of his cape and strode off toward the door.

Positively seething, David was unable to hold back. "Your decision?" he growled, seeing red. He bolted after the smaller man, grabbed the King's shoulder and spun Uther about to face him."You do NOT make decisions like this without my daughter's consent," he growled dangerously. "Kelly is a grown woman, you pompous bastard!" He barely heard the bedroom door open, and the sound of the two guards entering the room, swords drawn and held at the ready.

Uther shoved David's hand off of his shoulder, gruffly dismissing his sentries. They left, reluctantly. He did not want witnesses to this conversation. If word about this argument reached the commoners, he could only imagine the repercussions. He watched while the chamber door closed and then faced David once more. "The right to such decisions was lost the moment YOUR daughter decided to commit ADULTERY!" Uther's hissed statement brought on a long, tense moment of silence, and the men stood face-to-face, staring each other down.

The air was practically sparking with electricity.

THWACK!

It happened very quickly. Colonel Anderson drew back his arm and landed a solid left hook that sent the King stumbling against a side-table near the door. A metal serving platter clattered to the stone floor, making an awful din. Uther roared in fury and leaped to his feet, drawing his sword. Within seconds, two of Arthur's knights entered the room and acted as barriers to separate the agitated men. "Because you'd know all about that, now wouldn't you?" David taunted, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Sir Gorlois' wife, wasn't it?" Oh, yes, David had spent some time reading up on the Arthurian legends, right from the day his daughter returned home from this place and told him all about its people, and...other matters later revealed. He knew all about Uther Pendragon's dirty little secret; it was confirmed by the wild, defensive look on the King's face. "Careful, Your Highness. People who throw stones shouldn't live in glass houses," he warned sharply, absently rubbing his sore knuckles with his good hand. Oh, yeah, that was going to bruise...

"Do NOT speak that name again, Sir Anderson, or I will ensure that you NEVER see your daughter and grand-daughter again," Uther hissed, all but snarling at the brawny man before him. He caught the flash of fear in the bigger man's eyes, knowing he had hit a definite weak point. Uther was well-versed in scouting the exploitable weaknesses of his opponents. This man knew far too much for the King's comfort, and he would be silenced at all costs.

A very groggy voice rasped, "God, you guys make enough noise to wake the freaking dead...Knock it off, already, or knock me out so I don't have to hear it..."

A/N:

And...cut scene! Let me know what you think! Read and review, please!

Thanks for tagging along for the ride. It's been a fun journey for me, and I hope you, too, are having a good time! Thanks for hanging in there, for waiting for this chapter. There is more to come, but I wanted to take a moment and recognize the advice, support and encouragement that I have received from fellow writers. Guys, you are awesome. You know who you are. **HUGS**

Sincerely,

TheImpossiblePen