250+ reviews on this site! You guys just make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside!

So...some of you saw that coming, some of you didn't. Once I saw how similar the staves were...I knew I had to use it somehow. I'm still sticking more-or-less to SG canon from season 9 in the background. In Part 4, I will begin breaking away from that around the end of Season 9 and beginning of 10.

My laptop is still having keyboard issues, but as you can see...I've been able to keep working a bit.

GoldenFireFish: Your reviews make ME smile non-stop! :)

AWanderersHaven: Aside from this epilogue nope. :( It may be earlier if I get it done...and I might be nice (since you're bribing me) and throw in a side scene or two for fun.

Nance: The Sidhe/Ori explanation will be coming...I can't thank you enough for the work you put into this story with me, even when you have no idea what I'm talking about half the time hehe.

CarolynneRuth: Thanks! I'm trying to fill in some of the information from Stargate as best I can without going overboard. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Paradox Predator: I plead the 5th.

Tholey: AW! I love reading your reviews and your enthusiasm is contagious!

Aerist: LOL I can't wait to see it! Nope, wasn't all 'sunshine and daisies' hehe but that will come about in the next part a bit more, along with a deeper explanation of the Furling/Dragon twist.

IcarusLSU: thanks! I loved how I surprised you with the Indiana Jones maneuver.

Hope all the Doctor fans have an enjoyable 50th! (it should be an international holiday hehe) and to my US fans: have a wonderful turkey day!

I'll see you all again in a few weeks!

Keys of Fate, Epilogue:

"Ah-Ten-Hu!" A man in uniform called out, acting as herald of some sort. Gwaine had called him the Detail Leader.

Everyone stood, as eight men...three young, five older...took up positions alongside the coffin as it was unloaded from the long, black car. Across the top was draped the starred and striped flag, that Arthur had come to know as the one Gwaine followed. The coffin was carefully placed atop a deep hole, surrounded by an odd carpet that resembled green grass. It was held in place by two wide straps that crossed the pit.

There were so many men and women in a variety of uniforms. Merlin almost looked like someone else entirely, in the olive green coat and pants. The warlock had proven beyond any shadow of a doubt, that even without magic he was, as Arthur suspected, a true warrior. At Gwaine's place in Colorado, he'd single-handedly taken them all on, and had barely broken a sweat. After which, Arthur had made Merlin swear to begin teaching him.

Cameron Mitchell wore a dark blue uniform with a white hat. Next to him stood Gwaine; his coat was an even darker blue that it almost appeared black, and contrasted with the brighter blue of his pants, that sported a red stripe down the outside seam. On his head was a hat...or cover as they called it...of the same pristine, white cloth and shining black brim. They stood straight-backed and tall. When they saluted, with their white gloved hands, Arthur noticed a variation between Merlin and the others, that he resolved to himself to ask about later.

Older men, obviously retired from military service, wore a different style of clothing, similar to the suit that was bought for him, but with odd, thin hats, decorated with patches. Surrounding the grave were also a lot of more rugged-appearing men and women, who seemed to clash with the neatly pressed uniforms, but yet looked quite at home on the windswept, Wyoming prairie.

Once the casket was secured, Gwaine, Merlin and Cameron, along with the five older men, stepped back and stood at attention, while the loud man barked out another sound that everyone, except Arthur, seemed to understand. Off a little way from the gravesite stood a line of men, as still as statues, until the order was given. In precise, synchronized movements, the Honor Guard lifted their rifles and aimed at the sky.

Another set of orders boomed out, and they fired. Puffs of smoke issued from the barrels. The orders were repeated, and the shots rang out. Then, yet again, a third time. Arthur recalled Gwaine speaking to someone about the ceremony. The three volleys fired were part of a tradition that went back a few centuries, originally meant to signify a ceasefire so that combatants of a war could take time to gather their fallen comrades.

The men snapped back into formation. A few moments later, his heart still beating rapidly from the blasts of gunpowder, he heard the sound of a solitary bugle cut through the air, playing a mournful composition.

Guinevere clung tightly to Arthur's arm. Her eyes glistened with tears. Arthur felt a pang of regret, that he had never met the man they all were there for. Although different in structure and protocol from the funeral of a knight in Camelot, the feeling in the air was the same as everyone gathered to pay their respects to the recently deceased.

Mitchell and another uniformed man stepped forward, once the tribute was over. The director of the funeral asked everyone to be seated. Mitchell and the other man lifted the flag from the casket and skillfully began folding it together, until it formed a triangle. Three shell casings from the rifle volleys were placed inside the folds. Mitchell released the flag to the other man, who handed it off ceremoniously to the Detail Leader, who had called out the orders. It was then given to Gwaine's sister, accompanied by words of condolence.

Arthur's mind drifted back through time, to when his father had died, and countless knights he had fought with, that had fallen. Each death had been honored with men in chainmail and scarlet capes standing in formation, paying their respects, along with many other finely dressed nobles. The way these modern military men moved, the posture they maintained...the formality of it all was stunning and awe inspiring.

The ceremony continued with somber words, before the casket was lowered into the ground. At the conclusion of the funeral, Arthur's heart jumped when a couple of the 'cowboys,' as Gwaine had called them, suddenly drew out small, hand-held versions of the rifles, and began shooting them into the air randomly...hooting and hollering as they did. He glanced at Gwen, who stared at the wildmen with wide eyes. "I remember Gwaine said he was worried this would happen. I guess these guys were part of some 'Old West' club with his grandfather."

He heard Laney groan and begin to curse, when her two youngest boys brought out toy versions of the pistols, and started snapping them off.

From then on, the somber ceremony devolved into more of a party atmosphere, celebrating the long life of an ornery, old cowboy and soldier.