First, an apology for the update delay: blame it on exam week, and a rare but severe case of writer's block. But I'm now on Christmas break, and I've finally managed to organize my thoughts for this chapter.

On that note, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for your readership, it really does mean a lot, and I thank you for all your kind comments, and I'm glad to hear that you're enjoying my story. Don't forget to comment on this one, and add "My Love, My Secret" to your Story Alert if you haven't already! I'm so excited for the Merlin Season 4 finale, as I'm sure all of you are!

Anon: The first nursing schools in America were created as early as the mid-nineteenth century. But nursing programs within HBCU's (historically black colleges or universities, which the fictional "Adamson School" would be qualified as) were first created in 1869 in New Orleans. I'm not a historian though, so maybe when your mom became a nurse, training in a university wasn't mandatory, but nursing programs within universities surely did exist by 1954 in the U.S.

Merry Christmas!

YoureAnIllusion

Chapter 21: The All Star Diaries

Merlin stuffed his cold and dry hands into the side pockets of his woolen jacket, picking up his pace so he could catch up with Arthur who sped along the crowded sidewalk. With Christmas but five days away, and it seemed as if the entire town decided to purchase their presents at once.

"Jeez, would you slow down?" Merlin asked a little agitated and out of breath, finally locking step with unusually quiet Arthur.

Arthur looked quickly over his shoulder at his friend, before looking forward again. "Sorry, something's been bugging me…" Arthur began with a sigh, running a hand through his hair.

Merlin nearly scoffed. "Well you don't say…"

"Quit bein' sarcastic, I'm serious," Arthur said stopping quickly, causing Merlin to bump into his shoulder.

"Let me guess; it's about Gwen?" Merlin watched Arthur nod slightly, beginning to move once again, slower this time. "And Lorenzo, right?"

"Yeah, you're right."

Merlin sighed. "Geez, Arthur how many times are you gonna bring this up?"

"I know, but the fact that Gwen's runnin' 'round town with a guy who obviously has the hots for her just doesn't sit right with me."

"And how would you know that? I think it's the jealousy talking…"

"'Cause—I just do. And I aint jealous, I'm just worried."

Merlin rolled his eyes, earning a glare from Arthur. "You're not giving Gwen much credit at all," Merlin began, as he and Arthur stopped walking amongst a group of people who waited to cross the street. "I mean, it's not like—"

Arthur nudged Merlin violently in the side with his elbow. "Shut up, Merlin," he hissed.

Merlin cringed, grabbing onto his side as he and the other shoppers migrated across the street to the next sidewalk, finally speaking once again as the crowd thinned out.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You're such a blabber mouth. People talk in this town, you know."

Merlin narrowed his light eyes, as he stood up straight. "I hope you don't bring this guy Lorenzo up to Gwen half as many times as you do with me."

"I can tell she avoids mentioning him, and I sure don't, because if I did, it'd end in a fight. A fight where I feel like the paranoid loser boyfriend who can't trust anyone."

"Well...are you?"

Arthur scoffed. "Of course not. Guinevere swore up and down that she had no feelings for him. And I believe her."

Merlin threw up his hands, before quickly stuffing them back in his pockets for warmth. "There you go! I fail to see the problem."

"Listen: I know Guinevere would never think of betraying me, and I'm ashamed to admit that I even thought that for a single moment."

"Well then stop."

Arthur ignored Merlin. "But this guy Lorenzo: don't pretend that you didn't see the way he gawked at Guinevere this summer. We all saw it, he looked at her like—I don't even want to think about it."

"Feelings die, Arthur. People move on."

Arthur shook his head. "Gwen's not the type of girl you can just 'move on' with; she's too special."

"There's no convincing you of anything, I don't even know why I try."

"She trusts him so much, and I'm afraid that he could take advantage of her. She only sees the good in people—kind of like you."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"But she can be so naïve; it's because she's so sweet. I think this fella, Lorenzo, is trying to weasel his way back in to her life."

Merlin opened the door to the clothing store he and Arthur were going into to purchase a gift for Morgana. "You do realize that you've never really met or spoken with Lorenzo, right? So you don't know the guy's character; for all you know, he could be the saint that Gwen claims he is. You have absolutely no idea."

Arthur stepped over the threshold of the crowded store like a zombie, snapping his fingers, his eyes wide, and his full lips curved upward in a gleeful grin. "Sometimes Merlin, you actually say something that's not completely stupid!"

Merlin's eyebrows came together in confusion. "What are you rambling about now?" Merlin watched Arthur rub his hands together in excitement. "Arthur…"

"By golly, that's what I'll gotta do!" Arthur laughed, disregarding Merlin, and addressing himself.

"I don't think that I'm gonna like this…" Merlin said uneasily.

Arthur snapped out of his daze, turning to Merlin quickly, pointing towards his chest. "I'll approach Lorenzo, and see what he wants with Guinevere for myself."

Merlin raised a dark brow. "Damn…love really does make a person crazy, doesn't it?"

Arthur rolled his eyes at Merlin's response. "Hey, it was your idea."

Merlin stopped, holding his hands up. "No, I didn't give you any ideas. You're being an idiot again, and not thinking things through; twisting my words to justify what you planned on doing in the beginning."

"The only idiot here is you," Arthur scoffed.

Merlin smacked his forehead in defeat, closing his eyes momentarily. "So what are you gonna do, huh? Go up to him and say: 'Hi my name's Arthur Pendragon... so what are your intentions with my girlfriend, Gwen?' Yeah, let's see how far you get, with that on, Arthur."

Arthur turned around, walking further into the store, leaving Merlin behind. "Don't mock me, Merlin. I'm serious. Unlike you, I'm not completely awkward, and I can easily create a casual conversation. Gwen won't have to come up—unless he mentions her. Then there might be a problem," Arthur readily admitted.

"You do realize how out of control you can get over the slightest things, right? You just admitted it yourself!"

Arthur continued walking briskly toward the rear of the store, dodging other shoppers as he did so, hoping that maybe Merlin would get lost among the crowd, and finally leave him alone.

"What if he says that he still loves Gwen?" Merlin blurted out.

Arthur immediately stopped walking, and his hands self-consciously balled into fists. "Where the hell did that come from? Do me a favor Merlin, and just shut up." Arthur demanded sternly, finally turning to look at his pestering friend.

Merlin stepped closer to Arthur, so he wouldn't have to yell his next words. "What if he told you that he loved Gwen, and wanted to be with her? How would you react then, huh?"

"Merlin, I said to shut the hell up already!"

"What? You'll beat him up? Yell and curse like an inbred fool?"

Arthur's eyes narrowed to slits. "I made up my mind already. Stop trying to talk me out of it; and making a big deal out of nothin'."

"There's no way you could go into a conversation with Lorenzo with a cool head, and you know it. I'm trying to keep you from making a big mistake which would lead to disaster. Stop thinking about only yourself, and consider Gwen."

"I am thinking about Gwen, that's why I don't plan on approaching Lorenzo beating my chest. I just want to talk to him, meet him, scope him out. Guinevere's name won't be dropped once."

Merlin shook his head, as he felt a head ache coming on. "I'm tellin' you now that this is a really bad idea. You have a way of overreacting."

"Merlin, just give it a fucking rest! Okay? Last time I checked, America was still a free country."

And that was the end of it.

Gwen stood alone in the kitchen, quietly singing to herself as she washed the pots which had been used throughout the day, turning her head just in time to see Stella enter the empty kitchen. It took everything within Gwen to not turn around and scurry the other way as soon as she spotted the head maid. It had been two days since Arthur pulled Gwen aside, begging her not to despair once he broke the news of Stella's revelation to her. Immediately, Gwen assumed that Stella thought the worse; that she was nothing more than a money hungry whore, using her dear Arthur as a gold mine. But Arthur had assured her that Stella thought no such thing, and was quite fond of her, also that her job was safe.

Despite how reassuring Arthur's gentle words had been then, they did little in that moment to relieve the tension Gwen felt around Stella. Of course the always graceful and tactful older woman made no indication of an altered attitude, but Gwen felt completely embarrassed to be near her. Stella was like Arthur's mother, and Gwen felt that she was being sized up on every occasion for the maid to see if she was good enough for her beloved Arthur.

"Gwen, are you doin' anything now?"

Gwen turned off the running tap. "No ma'am, I just finished washing those dishes."

"Good," Stella said moving closer to the girl. "If you wouldn't mind, could you begin puttin' some ornaments on the Christmas tree? It just got hauled in."

"It's just now set up? Christmas is in five days!"

"Yeah, I know. But Uther has this tradition of personally selecting the tree. For the twenty-five years since I've been here, no matter how busy he was, or even if he wouldn't be spending Christmas at the Estate, Uther would go out, and buy himself a Christmas tree." Stella laughed to herself, shaking her head at the fond memories. "But I guess this year his schedule has gotten in the way, but Uther's not one for breaking tradition." Stella let her last phrase linger in the silence of the room.

Gwen looked down at her hands, nervously licking her lips, and hushing her tone. "Miss Stella, Arthur told me about y'alls argument a couple of days ago. Please don't be upset with him, he doesn't want to disappoint you. And, well—it's my fault too."

Stella watched Gwen silently for a moment or two. "Them are some brave words, comin' from a girl who's been ignoring me for two days, now."

Gwen's gaze fell to her feet as she immediately felt intimidated by the maid. "I didn't know where things stood, and I didn't want to make anything worse. I'm sorry."

"I'm up here, girl," Stella said directly but softly, moving her index finger upward for Gwen to reestablish eye contact. "I'm not mad at y'all. Arthur defended you and his decisions like a man, and I can't be makin' his decisions for him anymore; even if I disagree with them." Stella watched Gwen humbly nod, and she found it extremely hard to be even a tad bit angry with the girl for long. "All I want is for you to remain a sensible Christian girl, you hear? That boy, he doesn't always think with his big head, if you know what I mean. But he's a man; I'm startin' to think that God made 'em foolish that way."

Gwen slightly grinned, nodding again.

"And two people who aint got a lick of common sense don't make a very good pair, now do they?"

"No ma'am. I reckon they don't."

"You're right. I trust you Gwen. I also trust that you know if you do anythin' to hurt Arthur, it's not only your job you oughta be worried 'bout, you hear?"

Gwen gulped, her eyes wide as she nodded vigorously. "Yes'm, I hear you loud and clear."

Stella smiled, smoothing the front of her dress. "I'm glad. Start actin' normal now, you don't need to be scared of me."

Gwen couldn't help but let out a small sigh of relief as she watched Stella coolly saunter out of kitchen, as if they had just finished speaking about the weather. Gwen walked slowly to the living room where the air seemed infinitely lighter, and the odor of fresh evergreen pine greeted her nostrils. Gwen stopped short in front of the unusually large tree, closing her eyes, taking in a generous whiff of the delightful Christmas decoration, one which hadn't graced her home since the death of her mother.

Several cardboard boxes of ornaments sat around the tree, filled with the most beautiful and expensive ornaments she had ever seen. She picked one up, marveling at it as she picked up a hook, and hung it from one of the tree's abundant branches. As she reached for another, she felt two large and cold hands cover her eyes from behind. She smiled as soon as she smelt the cologne Arthur wore that she loved so much, and covered his hands with her own.

"Arthur, I know it's you," Gwen said pulling down his hands, and turning to him with a bright smile, pushing a curl out of her face.

"You know, you don't even realize how beautiful you are, and it drives me crazy," Arthur whispered, causing Gwen to giggle.

"You tell me that every day, Arthur…"

"But it's true every day," Arthur said with a broad and genuine smile.

Gwen got on her toes, to give Arthur a quick kiss on the cheek. "I've been thinkin' of you a lot today."

"Really?" Arthur asked with a grin, pulling Gwen in by the waist. Arthur lowered for a kiss, before Gwen put her palms to his chest, pushing him away.

"Not here, Arthur," Gwen whispered, but Arthur kept his arms wrapped around her waist. "We're in your living room," she reminded him.

"So? All the doors are closed, no one can see us." Arthur watched Gwen look around the large and empty room, hardly convinced. "Okay, fine," he agreed with a sigh, finally letting go.

Gwen put space between her and Arthur by moving to one of the boxes of ornaments. "Arthur, why don't you help me?"

"Sure," Arthur said with a shrug. He took a step back, looking at the large tree. "My father has this dumb tradition of personally picking the Christmas tree every year. If you ask me, I think it's a waste of time, when he has a million other way more important things to do. Who cares about a single Christmas tree? He could let someone else go get it, he makes a big deal out of it though."

Gwen stood on her tip toes to reach a higher branch as she listened to Arthur. "Yeah, Stella told me about it earlier. I think it's sweet to have a family tradition."

Arthur grinned. "Stella told you?"

"Don't sound so surprised."

"Does this mean you finally quit being scared of her then?"

Gwen looked at Arthur quickly. "I was never scared of her!"

"Guinevere, who are you kidding? You've been trying to avoid her these past two days, even I noticed."

Gwen sighed, giving Arthur a sheepish look. "She came to me, asking me to decorate the tree. Then we got to talkin'…"

"Uh oh…"

"No, no. It went well, I think."

"She didn't go all 'mama bear' and grill you, did she? When she's mad…you better watch out."

"She was definitely frank, but still polite. It wasn't an argument by any stretch of the imagination, but she did give me a warning."

"A warning?"

"She said that if I hurt you in any way, I should fear more than my job…"

Arthur's head went back in laughter, his chuckles filling the room, until he looked upon Gwen who was hardly amused. "She did not!" He asked, unable to at least contain his smile.

"It aint funny, Arthur, she was serious."

Arthur chuckled yet again. "Boy, Stella's a hoot."

"Yeah, you can call it that."

"So are you two okay now?"

Gwen shrugged. "I guess. She said that she wasn't mad, so…"

"Well, now things can go back to normal."

"I'm not sure if normal is the right word for it, Arthur." Gwen turned to the tree, holding her hand out. "Could you pass me another ornament, please?"

"Here, be careful with this one, it's one of Dad's favorites. My mom painted it."

Gwen took hold of the ornament gingerly, slightly rotating it to look at the design on the red sphere. "Was she an artist?"

"Uhh, she dabbled, I guess. But those ornaments don't take much talent. Dad told me once that my mom really enjoyed decorating the tree, and I think that's why he takes so much care in choosing it. Because it reminds him of her."

"That's so sweet. See? It's not some dumb tradition after all."

Arthur shrugged, making it clear that he didn't really want to talk about it anymore. "What about you guys? What do you do with your Christmas tree?"

Gwen laughed, hanging the special ornament, and then turning to Arthur with empty hands. "We don't, we haven't bought one since Mama passed."

"What!" Arthur's eyes widened to saucers, as he heard the most heretical thing of his life. "How do you have Christmas without a Christmas tree?"

"Well Arthur, it may be Christmas, but that doesn't mean that we have or want to spend extra money on some tree which will only be up for a week or two, while the rent and light bills still gotta get paid. Besides, it sort of helps us remember the true meaning of Christmas, not reducing it to gifts and decorations." Gwen said with a bright smile as she looked at the wide eyed Arthur. "I quite like it actually. A simple life is a happy one; trees don't really mean anything."

"I've never met anyone who doesn't put up a Christmas tree…"

"Come live in my neighborhood, and you will." Gwen laughed, as she looked at the shell-shocked Arthur. "It's not a big deal Arthur, stop staring at me!"

"It's just…I never thought of a lousy tree as a privilege. That's so…sad."

"Arthur, didn't you hear me say it's just a tree? I'm better off than a lot of people, what difference does a tree make?"

"What if I got you a Christmas tree? Would you take it?"

"Arthur, have you been listening to me? I don't want one."

"Yeah, I'm listening, but why not? I'd be glad to get your family one. Let me—"

"Arthur," Gwen began, bending to choose another ornament. "You don't have to buy things to make me happy, you know?"

"But—"

"Books, and necklaces, and even trees are nice, but they're not everything to me. I don't want you spending your money on me."

"I have too much of it. I have nothing to do with all of the cash I have."

"That may be true, but I just don't want you to think that you have to buy me things every week, okay? I may not have much, but I have all that I need."

Arthur couldn't help himself but look upon Gwen with awe. Everything about her was such a gorgeous contrast to the socialites he was surrounded by; she was like his beautiful mocha Martian, and he loved it. He took one of her curls, twisting it between his fingers as he thought for a moment. "Even when I was a kid, all I could think about was getting stuff, and here you are, happy with the little you have."

"Don't beat up on yourself Arthur, you're not a bad person. I've had little my entire life, so it's easy for me."

Arthur laughed at a memory which flashed through his mind. "I remember when I was ten, I begged my Dad for a new bike. So Christmas morning comes, and sure enough I got a bike, except, it didn't have the set of bells I wanted, the ones which made a lot of noise. But Morgana, she got everything she wanted, and I felt like I had been a victim of the worst crime in the universe, because my dad couldn't even get the damn bells right."

Gwen laughed as Arthur's blue eyes illuminated at the memory, and he became excited; the way he always was when he shared a story with her.

"So I cried. I cried my little ten year old eyes out; I just couldn't get over those bells. Finally, Stella dragged me by the ear into the hallway and pointed directly at me. She said 'Arthur Pendragon, boy, you better quit your hollerin' this second!'"

Gwen laughed at the higher pitched tone Arthur took on as he imitated Stella's voice.

"I'll never forget it; she told me about all the little kids who were hungry and homeless, or with dad's dying overseas in the war, and there I was crying about some bells." Arthur shook his head with a grin. "I sure was one hell of a brat, but Stella has a way of sobering someone up quick. I marched back into the living room with my puffy red eyes, sniffling all the way with my head down, and I apologized to my dad. I got the right bike the next week, though."

"Stella sure does have a way with you, doesn't she?"

"Yeah she does, but I think you and Merlin are the only people who understand that. Who understand our bond…most people frown upon it."

"Yeah, I would think that."

"When I was growing up, I'd overhear people talking to my dad, saying things like: 'your boy's fixin' to be a nigger lover if you don't do somethin' soon, Uther.' Or if they were polite busy-bodies: 'do you think it's proper for a Pendragon gentleman to be taught by some colored domestic?' People said worse things, but I'm sure you can use your imagination."

"But she's still here. Obviously your dad likes her too."

"Their relationship is strange. On one hand, I think he's grateful that someone was keeping me grounded when he wasn't around. Yet, there have been times where he came close to firing Stella because he thought she was gaining too much influence."

"You're lucky Arthur, that at least you have a surrogate mother," Gwen reminded him a little sadly. "It's better than nothing, right?"

Arthur noticed moisture beginning to form on Gwen's eyelids, and he moved to rub her shoulders affectionately. "I have been blessed, but so have you Gwen. You may not have much money to your name—"

"More like 'any money'."

Arthur chuckled. "Alright. You may not have any money to your name, but you have the best family anyone could ask for. You have a loving community filled with people who stand by one another through hardship, and joy. I mean just look at the way your neighborhood reacted to the fires; everyone was outside, helping in any way they could. Also, you knew your mother, and you'll always carry those memories, don't forget that."

Gwen nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I know."

"Good. We should make it look like we're decorating…"

"Good idea."

"I think the last thing we need is—"

"Arthur?"

Both Arthur and Gwen turned quickly on their heels to find Uther Pendragon standing by the now open door way in his charcoal gray three-piece suit, an eyebrow raised in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly, and turned to the hallway. "Vivian, dear: I found Arthur. He's in the living room."

The footsteps of heeled shoes were heard against the tile until Vivian Remington's thin frame appeared next to Uther in the doorway. She rested a hand on his shoulder, until she glanced into the living room where her gaze froze.

Uther cleared his throat as he felt Vivian's hand fall off of his shoulder like a dead weight. "Son, what are you doing in here? Company will be arriving soon."

"I was helping Guinevere decorate the Christmas tree," Arthur explained, reaching for the nearest glass ornament, and holding it up as if it were proof.

"Ah," Uther responded with a nod.

Arthur cracked a nervous smile, quickly putting the ornament back in the box. He looked at his father who seemed to be appeased with the explanation, then to Vivian whose light eyes were boring into he and Gwen who stood rooted in their spots, a safe distance from one another.

Uther loosened his neck tie. "Well, I invited the Remingtons over for dinner, and there'll be here in half an hour; Vivian's just a little early. In fact Arthur, why don't you go wash up, and put on something…appropriate?"

Arthur looked down at his khakis and red polo, then back to his father with open arms. "What's wrong with this?"

"No, go change."

"No?" Arthur looked down at his attire once again.

Uther tilted his head slightly, losing his patience quickly. "As in 'hell no'. We're having company; we're not going to some diner. Now do I have to tell you again to go make yourself presentable?"

Over the years, Arthur was able to determine when his father could be bargained with, and when he meant business. This time, it was the latter, so Arthur decided not to argue further as he looked one last time at Gwen, before brushing past his father and Vivian without another word.

Uther sighed, rubbing his temples, before turning to Vivian with a small smile. "Vivian dear, you said you were thirsty?"

"Yes sir, just a little."

"I have to go prepare for supper, but I'm sure Gwen here will tend to you just fine." Uther looked to Vivian for any signs of confirmation, but instead, he found her appearing wide-eyed and nervous. Uther laughed, touching Vivian's shoulder only to have her jump slightly at the contact. "Don't worry Vivian; I don't think she bites." Uther lifted his chin, making it clear that he was addressing Gwen. "Give Miss Remington anything that she desires."

"Of course, sir."

Uther smiled at Vivian before looking at his watch, and hurrying out of the room, his heavy footsteps heard against the staircase only moments later.

"Ma'am, if you'd like to follow me, the kitchen is right through here," Gwen said with a smile.

Vivian rolled her eyes, swallowing an unladylike snort. "I've been here much longer than you; I think I know where the kitchen is."

Gwen only blinked in shock at Vivian's blunt and unwarranted reaction, as the blonde sauntered past her. Gwen sighed, shaking her head as she too walked to the empty kitchen, finding Vivian waiting near a counter, with her arms crossed over her chest. Gwen quietly retrieved a glass, filling it with water, and then handing it to Vivian.

"Are you alright ma'am? Would you like something to eat? You look a little blanched."

Vivian watched the maid for several moments, mustering all of the self control she contained, as not to slap the maid across the mouth, and make her shut up. "I'm sorry, I had a frustrating day, week—month. I'm just a little frazzled." Vivian plopped down onto one of the stools near the counter, and covered her aching forehead.

"I understand. Sometimes, we just need a chance to…relax."

Gwen's kind and bubbly demeanor made Vivian feel a little guilty for being so rude to her only a few moments ago. The remorse was quickly swept away as Vivian reminded herself who exactly she was sitting with—conversing with. This Gwen Gibson was no ordinary maid; she was Arthur's "lovebird" as Morgana had so fondly dubbed her.

"You know, I've seen you around a couple of times. Have you worked here long?" Vivian asked as warmly and politely as possible.

"Not as long as everyone else, but for about six months, I think. I've seen you around quite a few times as well."

Vivian cast her steely gaze on her beverage, realizing that she wouldn't be able to grit through dialogue constantly looking upon Gwen's constantly radiant and tender manner. It was beginning to make her sick. She cleared her throat. "My father is Olaf Remington; he and Uther go way back; my parents are also Arthur's godparents. I grew up with Morgana, Arthur, and that bean pole Merlin." Vivian paused, and glance at the maid as she laughed sweetly.

"Ah, Merlin."

Vivian scoffed. "Yeah, Merlin." Vivian returned her gaze to her still and clear water, thinking on how to make her next words seem as nonchalant as possible. "So I think it's safe to say that I'm really connected to the Pendragons. Heck, Arthur and I also dated for a long spell," Vivian explained with a light laugh.

Gwen cleared her throat, her discomfort terribly apparent. "Oh really? I don't really know Arthur that well." Gwen quickly turned to another counter, taking a nearby rag and wiping down the area even though it was already clean.

Vivian shrugged, smiling at Gwen's reaction. "Well, maybe that's a good thing, that you don't know him well."

Gwen's motions froze, as she made her voice as light as possible. "And why's that, ma'am?"

"Because he's a 'Class A' jerk."

Gwen turned around, leaning her back against the counter. "Really? I always thought he was quite kind."

Vivian couldn't resist snorting this time. "I dated the guy, and trust me; he's the king of the dogs. He's a lying, self-absorbed, sex-crazed bastard."

Vivian stood from her seat, moving to the sink where she dumped the water from her glass with a splash. "Do yourself a favor, and leave him alone. He eats sweet girls for breakfast." With that, Vivian gave Gwen a sweet smile, pointing at the glass. "Thanks for the water."

Gwen looked to the empty glass which rested on the marble counter, then back at Vivian. "You hardly drank any of it, ma'am."

Vivian shrugged. "You can call me Miss Remington." Vivian flipped her curled hair over her shoulder, and then turned, leaving the kitchen, only looking back once to see Gwen standing in her place like a statue.

Uther looked at his watch for the fifth time, his patience wearing thin. "Arthur, would you hurry up? You're taking even longer than Morgana!" Uther grumbled at his son who was in the bathroom.

"You're the one who wanted me to change so badly!" Arthur called out to his father who had been waiting in his bedroom for the past ten minutes.

"You better watch that tone of yours, or—"

Arthur came out of his attached bathroom, buttoning up his newly starched shirt. "Or what Dad? Or you'll do what?"

"Just hurry up, will you?"

Arthur walked to his closet, grabbing a matching jacket to his black pants. "Is there a reason you're waiting in here? I'm twenty-two; I think I learned how to dress myself a long time ago."

"Arthur, toss the sarcasm for just a single moment, please. I have something serious to discuss."

Arthur paused, looking at his father, then closing the door to his closet, and throwing his jacket onto the bed. "What? Is everything okay?" Arthur asked, immediately concerned. "Did something happen?"

Uther held up his hand. "No, no, nothing dire. It's business related."

Arthur let out a slight sigh of relief. "Ok, you're making me nervous though…"

"Arthur, it's about time that we think about the future. You're right; you're twenty-two. You're now a young man, a bright and charming one I might add. You've only been working at the main office for a little while now, but you've impressed everyone nonetheless. I think that it's now appropriate to take you to the annual state of affairs conference that I hold in Charleston. It's time that all my important investors and colleagues finally meet you."

"Wow, I'd be honored!" Arthur replied, trying not to sound too excited. "This is the largest meeting of the year, and I know what a privilege it is to attend. Thank you." Arthur felt like there was more he ought to say, but found himself at a loss for words.

Uther smiled at his son's apparent joy. "Fantastic! Don't worry, we'll be down there for three days, but it's not all business. There will be parties and social gatherings, including the governors New Year's Eve party in his mansion. This will be your first chance to really get out there in the greater international business world, and truly market yourself. I know you'll really make a name for yourself." Uther began to speak quickly, as he explained to his son what the trip would entail.

"When do we leave?"

"On the 28th, three days after Christmas. The Remingtons will be so pleased to know that you're joining us!"

Arthur's head tilted forward, and his eyes narrowed slightly. "What did you say? The Remingtons?"

"The governor is hosting a New Year's Eve party which directly coincides with the conference. You and I were invited, along with Remingtons."

Arthur slowly folded his arms over his chest. "So, I take it Vivian will be there?"

"Of course Arthur, don't be simple."

Arthur chuckled ironically, letting his arms fall to his side, and his hands brush his thighs. "Hell, you've finally lost your mind, haven't you? It's just a coincidence that Vivian and I are both spending the weekend in Charleston at the same time, and this just happens to be the year that you invite me to your conference?"

"Arthur, stop being ridiculous. Everything just…worked out. You should be glad that you're being given the chance to accompany me."

"Well things tend to get sour quickly with Vivian around."

"Arthur, we've discussed this matter at great length..."

Arthur stepped away from his father, picking up his jacket and shrugging it on. "I'm so sick and tired of you constantly throwing me at Vivian! How many times, in how many different ways do I have to tell you that I can't stand her! I want nothing to do with her; you're the one who likes her so much!"

"Arthur! Hush, she's only downstairs, she'll hear you!" Uther hissed.

"I hope she hears! Maybe she'll finally understand to leave me the hell alone! I'm tired of these love games you're playing. I'm not taking a single step towards Charleston if Vivian will be there too."

Uther stood back, watching his son work himself into frenzy…perhaps he shouldn't have mentioned the Remingtons right away. "There's nothing you can do to change this Arthur. You may not like her, but you're escorting her for one night, so suck it up, and take it like a man. Things don't always go your way."

Arthur rolled his eyes as his father continued.

"Now you're gonna go downstairs and behave like the Southern gentleman I've raised you to be. You understand? Leave your attitude here."

Arthur remained silent, realizing that arguing wouldn't further his cause. Instead he shrugged, brushing past his father in frustration.

Encouraged by his father's glare, Arthur quickly stood and pulled out Vivian's chair, helping her up from the dining table. She lightly took his hand, smiling up at him.

"Thank you Arthur. Dinner was lovely."

Arthur only nodded, as he felt Vivian link arms with his, and he resisted sucking in his breath at the contact. He looked over his shoulder to find Morgana standing on her own, devoid of Merlin's customary assistance. He had noted a slightly awkward strain between the two at dinner, but of course he said nothing.

He also caught Gwen staring at him and Vivian as she cleared the table. He offered her a smile as they made eye contact, but the maid turned her head quickly in the other direction.

"Arthur, what are you looking at?" Vivian too turned in Arthur's direction.

Arthur couldn't help but keep looking at Gwen, puzzled by her curious reaction. "N-nothing, I'm not looking at anything."

Vivian patted his shoulder gently, sending uncomfortable shivers up his spine. "Would you walk me to my car?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Uhh, yeah, sure." He made sure that no hint of enthusiasm could be detected in his voice.

"Wait, Vivian!" Morgana called up, catching up to the pair, with Merlin close behind. "Vivian, I can still come over tonight, right?"

Vivian looked at Merlin, then to Morgana. "Yeah, you may as well drive with me."

"Awesome." Morgana turned to face the table where the Remingtons and Uther still sat, conversing and laughing with one another. "Uncle, I'm going to leave now, I'll be back in the morning!"

"Alright, have fun."

"Drive safe, you two," Olaf Remington added.

Morgana nodded with a smile, looking to Vivian who held Arthur captive. The three began to make way to leave the room, until Morgana stopped.

"Merlin, are you coming outside with us?"

"Nah, I think I'll just wait here."

"I'll be back soon," Arthur assured his friend.

Merlin grinned. "Oh, you take your sweet time Arthur. Don't worry about little ol' me." Merlin watched the three leave the dining room, lingering until he heard the front door open and close. He waited for about five seconds to make sure that no one was coming back inside, before he ran up the steps as fast as his long and lanky legs could take him.

He had been aching to read Morgana's latest entries, curious as to what her future plans were, and what exactly they had to do with the Adamson School, though he had his ideas. He was so eager, that he even brought his own bobby pin, keen on maximizing every moment he had in Morgana's room. At least this time he knew she'd be gone for good, it was just Arthur he had to worry about. He had a maximum of ten minutes until Arthur would be back upstairs looking for him.

Quickly but quietly, Merlin opened Morgana's closed door, leaving it open just a crack so he could hear any noise from the hallway. This time around, Morgana's gargantuan room was much cleaner, making Merlin's direct route to her bedside drawer that much quicker. Buzzed with unbridled anticipation, Merlin sat on Morgana's bed so quickly that he bounced a couple of times. As soon as he pulled out the drawer, Merlin found Morgana's purple diary on top of the other contents, whereas it was usually buried. It was when Merlin picked it up, that he noticed it was extremely thin, and the small lock was missing. He turned it over, examining it for any other oddities.

"What the hell…" He gasped as he opened the book to the first page, only to find it completely blank. Judging from the binding, all of the previous pages had been ripped out, leaving no more than ten pages in the book. She knew. Merlin had now realized how crafty Morgana Pendragon was, but he had indeed underestimated her. It seemed that nothing got past her. Yet, part of Merlin didn't want to believe it, for he leafed through the few pages that were left, stopping at the middle page. In thick blue ink, Merlin read:

"Dear Merlin: Nice try. Morgana."

Merlin immediately felt sick as he read the short note.

"Ah, Merlin."

Merlin's head immediately looked up, only to behold Morgana, standing in front of him, wearing the most disgusting grin on her lipstick red lips that he had ever seen. She made him sick. Though startled, Merlin could immediately feel his jaw set, as he watched Morgana take another step closer to him, diverting her gaze for a moment to her diary which sat next to him.

"I take it, you're looking for these?" Slowly, Morgana raised her right hand, revealing a stack of small off-white papers filled with her slanted writing, all bound together in a clip. She watched Merlin sit on the bed, just glaring at her. "Oh, I think you have some serious explaining to do." Her smile had disappeared, her eyes narrowed and cold.

Merlin slowly stood up, showing Morgana that she didn't intimidate him in the least. "I could say the same for you, Morgana."

Both simultaneously looked at the diary pages which had been removed from their original binding held together by an office clip, then back to one another.

Title Inspired by: "The All-Star Diaries" by A Skylit Drive