I felt so blessed to have so many of you sending in your best wishes, along your much appreciated reviews, for me to get well. I am much better now, thank you all so much.

This chapter was written with loads of antibiotics in my system and I honestly hope it is acceptable.

Thank you again. And yeah, reviews really do make my day brighter.

16th December 20_

Private and confidential

ATTENTION : Mr ARTHUR PENDRAGON

Termination of Your Employment

I am writing to you about the termination of your employment with Pendragon Industries Limited.

In light of the recent events, I have decided to terminate your employment for the following reasons:

i. Your health is no longer optimal for the demands of your position in the Company.

ii. You have displayed aggressive decision making that will jeopardize the Company and its interests.

Based on your length of service, your notice period is 2 weeks. Therefore your employment will end on the 31st of December 20_.

In lieu of receiving that notice, you will be paid the sum of your accrued entitlements and outstanding remuneration, including superannuation, up to and including your last day of employment.

Yours sincerely,

Uther Pendragon

Gwaine went on speaking, but Arthur did not hear a word his friend was saying. He was aware that he was in the kitchen, Gwaine pacing in the space between the counter and the stove, Guinevere seated opposite him at the kitchen table. There were mugs of coffee on the table, going cold and undrinkable. Gwaine was talking mostly to himself; muttering about corporate law, injustice and Uther Pendragon being a right royal choice of swearword that he will not utter out of respect for Arthur.

Arthur supposed Gwaine's ranting would be considered funny; Gwaine waking up on a Saturday morning to correspondence from the one adult he detested the most in the whole country would have been enough to jar anyone's mood even before getting into the contents of the correspondence. And finding out his best friend had been fired from his job…well, Gwaine is doing a good job keeping everything reined in. So far, his protests have been verbal and thankfully self-censored, but that is only because Guinevere was in the room with them.

The more Arthur thought about, the more funny it seemed to him. He would have loved to see the reaction on Gwaine's face when he had read the letter by Uther…at nine o'clock on a Saturday morning… it would have been priceless.

And as he thought of the timing, Arthur wondered if the delivery of the letters had been deliberate; Uther had put two days between Arthur receiving the letter and the courts and offices being open. It was most likely deliberate; Uther never does anything without planning well ahead first.

Arthur supposed he should feel something else other than mirth at Gwaine's predicament and being impressed at how Uther had arranged all this to happen on the days when law offices are closed. He wondered just exactly what he was supposed to feel.

Anger?

Sadness?

Disappointment?

Frustration?

The need to smash some things?

Arthur looked at Guinevere, seated opposite him, looking intently at the patterns on the table cloth, her hands on her lap. If he was asked what he was feeling, Arthur would have answered that he was concerned. Mainly about Guinevere. And in a small way, of Gwaine as well.

His concern for Guinevere was the only emotion that felt palpable to him. He had raced through anger and sadness and the whole lot of emotions of dealing with the fact that everything he worked had been yanked away from him by the use of a few words typed out on a piece of paper. But all of them, every single moment of those emotions dissolved away when he saw Guinevere. All he could think of as he held the paper and looked at her was to protect her from this…from his father.

Because Arthur was not as delusional as to think that a displaced knee would ever be considered a serious health issue when it comes to his position in the company. This has everything to do with Arthur being with Guinevere. And this was how Uther is showing his displeasure towards Arthur's decision.

By taking away his job, which Uther knew very well that Arthur loved.

Pendragon Industries was more than just a family business for Arthur. It was not because of the fact that it was part of his inheritance that he loved the company. It was not because of the challenges of corporate world, which many can laugh at and few can navigate. It was hardly the money, because Arthur has his mother's family to thank for a generous trust fund.

Arthur loved his job for one reason only. It was as the CEO of Pendragon Industries that he was able to sit and talk with his father, if not as an equal, then as an employee. Uther Pendragon always had time for the CEO of his company, always listened to his suggestions, felt compelled to praise him for any job well done. Pendragon Industries was the one place Uther had ever approved of anything his son ever did. And Arthur had only ever wanted to please his father, even when doing none of his own his choice.

It is not as if Arthur had not come to accept the decisions Uther had made for him until now. In some ways, Arthur appreciates them; he knows his father wants the best for him…if not the for company or the family name.

Arthur supposed he has now grown up, in a serious relationship that is headed towards marriage in the nearest possible future. He supposed that he could say for certain that he knows what is best for him. Arthur would never admit that to be the truth, because he knows that he is learning every day. He would never become the sort of man Uther Pendragon is. Simply because, if there is one thing that Arthur is sure of, it is the fact that he is not Uther Pendragon. Arthur Pendragon is his own man and he is never, ever going to let his father make him let go off the one thing he treasures more than anything else in his life.

Guinevere.

Just one look at her and none of the contents of the letter had mattered anymore to Arthur. What was a position in a company compared to Guinevere? She is the single most important person in his life and somehow getting fired did not change that fact, not even for a moment.

Arthur could not care less about his position in the company or in its board. Gwaine is doing a pretty fantastic job getting pissed off on his behalf. And Arthur did not doubt Gwaine would give Uther hell for ruining his weekend. And for firing Arthur.

That was between Gwaine and Uther. Arthur was not going to interfere. What he was going to do is make Guinevere understand that the only thing he feels is sorry to have lost what had been a relatively good relationship with his father. And that she mattered a lot more than what had merely been a job in Uther Pendragon's eyes.

Arthur stood up, his abrupt action causing Guinevere to look at him and Gwaine to stop pacing and spare his cuticles. They looked at him, waiting for the momentous words of him issuing a challenge to the termination.

"I'm going to take the rubbish out."

Guinevere was stunned into silence, while Gwaine clenched his hands into fists, gritting his teeth in an effort not to swear or break something.

"You're mad," Gwaine told him, as Arthur limped his way towards the cabinet under the sink where the bin was.

"I'm just doing what I have to," Arthur pointed out. He could not help enjoying himself, he knew it was unfair to Gwaine, but with Guinevere in the kitchen, it was rather fun to see Gwaine restraining himself. Arthur already knows what he was going to do now that he was jobless, but he did not want to tell them just yet. They might think he was backing off from challenging his father, which he rather was, but Arthur knew how to pick his battles. It is a newly acquired skill set, but one that he is grateful for.

And because Guinevere and Gwaine were waiting for Arthur to admit to some sort of concession that he was distraught by the termination, he added, "I could use the walk?" It came out a question rather than a statement, but luckily, neither Guinevere nor Gwaine picked up on it. That distressed him. Normally, they would know these things, but Uther's decision has cast black a shadow over them and now…well, now they were almost strangers to each other.

Thankfully, however, both of them did not choose to come with him. They probably thought a walk to the bin at the side of the building was hardly 'mind-clearing'. Or perhaps they thought he could use the time by himself. Either way, Arthur's main concern now was trying not to appear more the invalid than he already is. Because he has gotten the rubbish bags (one with the recyclable items and the other with household waste) he needed to dispose from under the sink. All he needed then someone to open the kitchen door and the front door.

And the like best mate he was, Lance walked into the kitchen, all smiles and good cheer and rather oblivious to the tension in the kitchen.

"Mate, a little help with the door?" Arthur called out. Lance, dutifully, held the kitchen door open for Arthur.

"Arthur's been fired from his company." Gwaine's voice was neutral, a far cry from the angry tones he had used moments ago.

Arthur, shuffling through the door, sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor. He continued to the front door, as Lance, surprised into silence, went into the kitchen to be briefed by Gwaine. Arthur made it to the hallway when Lance came out of the kitchen again, followed by Gwaine and Guinevere. All three were frowning, looking very much concerned. Only Gwaine looked slightly incredulous; he probably reckoned it was time to draw strategies to challenge Uther Pendragon, not for domestic chores.

"Arthur?" Lance called out, as Arthur paused near the door.

Arthur looked at Lance. He supposed the rest of them saw indifference. What Arthur felt was…blessedly, nothing at all.

Arthur nodded at the door and Lance stepped forward, but not before glancing the Gwaine and Guinevere. He went to the door and opened it, allowing Arthur out before closing it behind him.

"You want to talk about it?" Lance asked, as they made their way down the hallway and towards the lifts.

"Actually, yeah."

Lance was surprised when he heard the admission. Gwaine and Guinevere would have, no doubt, told Lance about Arthur not saying about his termination. Arthur wanted to talk to them about what he was thinking and planning, but Gwaine and Guinevere were not ready for it just yet.

"So…" Lance said, stuffing his hand into his jacket, falling in step beside Arthur.

"I'm not happy." Arthur said, speaking truthfully. He really did not think there was any other way he could talk this out, now that he was ready to talk about it. Besides, honesty always kept things simple.

"Of course."

Arthur smiled to himself. It was always easy to talk to Lance; he never judged or interrupted unnecessarily. That is not to say that Gwaine and Guinevere would not, but, Lance…he always listened.

"I mean, not at the way he did it, you know? Sending a letter?" Arthur said, trying to keep from getting annoyed. Getting his termination in the mail was a trifling matter compared to the fact he was no longer employed, but he could not help hating the way his father had done it. "It shows that he's…he doesn't want to see me…" Arthur let his voice trail off; he could not think anything beyond that. Just days ago, his father had visited him, kissed him and assured him everything will be well.

It had all been a pretence, Arthur thought, more sad than angry. And yet, he felt none of the emotions or feelings associated with sadness; he supposed he should be experiencing acute heartbreak, or even mind-numbing grief at such a betrayal…but Arthur would be lying to himself is he thought he was not expecting something like this to happen. He had gone after Guinevere and gotten engaged to her without a single look-in by his father and Arthur realized that today, whatever ill-conceived idea he might have had of his father not caring enough to acknowledge his decisions regarding Guinevere had just been dismantled. His father cared a lot about Guinevere and her being with his son. Cared enough to deliver this ridiculous ultimatum.

As if had been a choice in the first place, Arthur thought to himself. Stack up any decisions or choices against Guinevere and Arthur would choose his future wife every time.

"Or quite probably afraid." Lance offered, his quiet voice breaking Arthur's reverie. They were now standing in front of the lifts, waiting for it to come up.

"That's bullshit. He's not afraid of anything," Arthur remarked, just as the lift door opened. They got into the carriage and Arthur used the end of his walking stick to press the button for the ground floor. "Least of all firing his son." He felt bitter as he spoke and it must have been audible through the tone of his voice.

"I am all for bullshit for this one," Lance said, shrugging. "Uther Pendragon is human after all."

Arthur decided that he could not care less if his father was human or otherwise, frightened of him or not. The moment he read the letter of termination, an idea that had always been at the back of his mind had been brought forward. "I'm thinking sheep."

"What?" Lance sounded as surprised as he looked. It was only then Arthur realized that he had replied to Lance's statement about Uther with that of a farm animal.

"And organic vegetables," Arthur added quickly, just so that Lance would not be getting the wrong idea.

Lance actually looked relieved. The lift came to a halt on the ground floor and he waited until they were out of it, before asking, "Agriculture?"

Arthur smiled, looking at Lance. "There's…"

"Tintagel," Lance finished for Arthur, smiling back, as they crossed the lobby.

"Exactly," Arthur replied. Farming and rearing livestock in Tintagel had been an option for Arthur; something he had considered getting into when he retired. At the age of forty.

"Sounds like a plan," Lance remarked, opening the front door for Arthur. They stepped out into the chilly morning and made their way to the side of the building.

Arthur was not even sure where to get started on his plan. But he assured himself that at least, he has a plan. "Yeah. I mean, an hour ago, I was happy," Arthur said, thinking about he had felt returning from his morning walk with his newspaper. He had been content, happy with the fact that he was no longer confined to his flat, happy to be alive and well. "Now, I am…happier." And he was not just saying it because he was trying to convince himself. If anything, he was happier.

He felt…liberated.

"That's good," Lance said, patting Arthur's shoulder. They turned into the alley at the side of the building, where the bins were.

"It's about time I started making my own decisions," Arthur continued. In his mind, he wondered if the side alley of his flat was the most suitable place to talk of his future and then decided that the location hardly mattered. It was what he was saying and whom he was saying to that was more important.

"Of course. Time to be your own man," Lance remarked.

Arthur was stunned when he heard Lance. Of course Lance was right and that is what he supposed his plans were all about, but it was a bit unnerving to hear it spoken aloud. "Well, now that you've said it, I…"

"Don't say it, mate," Lance said, as they stopped walking momentarily. He must have sensed Arthur's apprehension. "This," he continued. "Is a challenge that is a literal piece of cake for you. I mean, you've survived all those decisions made by your Father. I am sure you will survive…even excel at making your own decisions a success."

"I…" Arthur was once again surprised, realizing that Lance was telling the truth.

"If anything, Arthur," Lance said, looking at Arthur, an honest, open look in his eyes, a look of complete certainty that supported what he was saying. "You may not be Uther, but you are your father's son."

It was bordering on ridiculousness, but that statement by his best friend, his belief in him…Arthur felt his throat constricting. He found himself at loss as to what to say to Lance. He reckoned there was nothing one could say to a friend who completely understands one's predicament. They resumed their walk towards the bins.

"And I know that you now feel compelled to hug me for these wise words," Lance said, his voice light and playful. Arthur turned to look at him, frowning. "But I would appreciate it if you don't." Lance glanced at the bag of rubbish Arthur was holding. "This is a vintage jacket."

"You're impossible, mate." Arthur shook his head, smiling. He shoved one of the bags through the slot of the bin and moved on to the other one.

Lance's grin matched the laughter in his eyes. "You're welcome," he replied. "And, Arthur…"

"Yeah?"

"We're here for you, mate. All of us are here for you." This time, it was not a jest. Or something said just to make Arthur feel better. This was the truth. "Gwaine more than anyone else, most likely." He added the last bit with a grin.

"Thanks, mate." Arthur felt compelled to express his gratitude, even when he knew Lance was not expecting it. "You don't think it's a bit…farfetched?"

Lance thought about it for a moment before he answered. "It is, yeah," he said. "But, taking the private jet to Rome, proposing while under medication…all that sounds a bit farfetched and yet…you managed it all very well, Arthur."

Arthur smiled. He lifted the other bag in his hand to be thrown into the recyclables' bin. He threw it into the bin and was about to walk away when he caught a glimpse of white and pink through the white TESCO bag that held the rubbish from his flat. Arthur leaned forward for a closer look, as did Lance, who was curious as to why Arthur was showing sudden interest in the rubbish. Arthur reached into the bin with his walking stick, turning the bag towards him so that he might look at it.

Lance's gasp of surprise was more audible than Arthur's. "Congratulations?" he said, his eyes still fixed on the incriminating box visible through the bag.

Arthur looked at the box visible through the white plastic bag, before turning to Lance. He could not think of anything else, save for the blurry image of the woman laughing on the pink and white box.

He supposed the woman was happy because she was pregnant…

Pregnant…

Pregnancy test kit.

Why would it be in his rubbish…

"Oh." The realization, which had already dawned on him the moment he saw the box, finally hit him. A brief moment of loss (he wondered if it really could be Guinevere's, before ruling out Merlin), followed by a tinge of guilt, which was quickly dismissed because he hardly felt he had done something wrong.

Guinevere is pregnant.

And then the moment of clarity.

He saw the brilliant sun peeking through a wintry sky. He felt the chill of winter through his warm clothes, a pleasant reminder of the season. He aware of the smell, a not too pleasant reminder of his location. Nevertheless, everything were details which he knew he would want to remember when he recalls the day he was the happiest he had ever been in his life.

The day he found out he was going to be a father.

Arthur began to laugh.

=X=X=X=