A/N: No matter how much I love making you all squirm, my aim is to make you smile this time... This turned out to be a much longer chapter however and hopefully you won't end up feeling too overwhelmed with the information overload. IDOM

Thank you all for your reactions! : )

Chapter 3: Citizens of the Citadel

8 January 1978

"No candles!" Geoffrey warned without looking up from his book as Arthur pushed his way into the man's room. It conveniently doubled as the library and study of the Citadel. In truth it had been an archive first, packed with things like payroll registers and supply orders but those papers had been used up by now. The filing cabinets had stayed though and had been filled with books over the years. No doubt the man's dream of living in a library had been fulfilled.

"You know I wouldn't dare." Arthur replied kindly as he set his trunk down on the nearest school desk. The room was only sparsely lit with one tiny lamp, an ingenious design of Tom which used gravity, a bag of sand and a winding mechanism to provide light for a very short period. The archivist had commandeered the prototype as soon as the engineer began to work on more practical models. However Arthur suspected that if all else failed, Geoffrey would just teach himself braille to continue to read.

The old man looked up and smiled widely, "Arthur! Come in, come in." He added needlessly as he got up from behind his desk. He rose with some difficulty but nevertheless waved Arthur off when the young man rushed to help his old teacher.

Geoffrey was the one who had vowed to teach every child their letters and numbers. After they conquered that task he send them off to Gaius, Alice or Helen to learn more but he'd been everyone's first teacher. For a short time the man's love for books had rubbed off on Arthur as well who still remembered those short carefree years with a smile.

"You brought me presents." Geoffrey stated quite happily and hobbled towards the trunk. Arthur watched the old man fondly as he studied the books intently. He acted quite demented sometimes but the young man knew the oldest resident of the Citadel still had a sharp mind. No doubt acting like the old man of eighty he was gave him a lot of leeway. For instance having a coughing fit in the middle of an argument during council meetings was a fool proof method for diffusing tension.

"Only three this time but I marked the place on my map so I'll get more later." Arthur admitted. When weighing what to take back to the Citadel, frivolous things – as someone once called them – like books were never ranked high. Geoffrey knew this of course and was just happy with every addition no matter how long he had to wait for another title. There was no rush. He was resolved to live for a century after all, that seemed like a nice round number.

"Never mind, my boy." He said congenially and asked, "Did you have someone specific in mind when you chose these?"

"The War of The Worlds for Alan and Lewis of course." Arthur explained.*

"You want to restart their argument again." Geoffrey stated dryly.

"You have to admit them speculating if the Martians caused the earthquake was very amusing."

"I remember they broke it off when neither of them remembered the plot completely." Geoffrey chuckled already looking forward to another round of debate.

"And this one?" He held up a copy of The Secret Garden before placing it down beside the trunk next to the other one.

"Susan?"

"She'll love it." The old man nodded approvingly knowing Gaius' granddaughter would treasure it.

He paused at the third book however. The milky white leather-bound copy of Poetical Works of John Keats was a fine edition from 1906 or 1907 if he remembered correctly. Geoffrey opened it in the middle and leaved through the book stopping on the spot where the green silk page-marker rested. It was one of the poets' letters to Fanny Brawne.

He gazed back at Arthur who shifted uneasily under the sudden scrutiny and asked, "Are you certain you don't want to give this to her yourself? Instead of waiting until she finds it on the shelves?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, you silly old man." Arthur deflected good-naturedly and snapped the trunk close again, "I have to deliver the rest of this stuff to Gaius."

He hurried out before Geoffrey had a chance to comment, or worse, started to grin knowingly.

The trip to the company's former lab and current infirmary was a solitary one. Arthur suspected most of the inhabitants were either in the kitchen area or the Main Court, in both places a small yet practically perpetual fire burned. He knew Gaius would be there though. Like Geoffrey the man didn't have living quarters apart from his lab and infirmary anymore but unlike the archivist, Gaius had slept in the lab long before the earthquake struck.

Maybe Alice, his wife and lifelong match to his brilliancy, would be there as well. The Brewer pair had been Project Pendragon's lead scientists and their self-made concoctions had saved lives in the past. Alice however had another talent, Arthur reflected which meant she was probably down in the Main Court right now entertaining the youngest ones with stories. With the lights out there was not much else to do.

Alice and Rya, Tom's wife, were the Citadel's unofficial storytellers though once upon a time he and Morgana had made them certificates. It had been an equal partnership as his sister could already write by then. So Arthur had drawn crooked rectangular shapes, the books of course, on the papers and carefully coloured between the lines. Both of them had presented the "official documents" proudly on Christmas. Even after all these years both women still treasured the now yellowed certificates.

The door was open and the soft light of several candles lit up a small part of the hallway making it unnecessary to keep on squeezing his torch. He had become quite tired of juggling the metal box and the dynamo. Arthur entered as quietly as possible so not to startle the old man during one of his many experiments. Uncontrolled fires underground were not pleasant. Gaius however was only making note of the several of dozens vials, flasks, glass containers on the infirmary's shelves so the young man felt it safe to announce his arrival.

Gaius turned around immediately, his eyes widening with relief – if Arthur read that correctly – and exclaimed happily, "Arthur, my dear boy! It's very good to see you! You're latest vanishing act had us all worried."

"I'm sorry I had you worried, Gaius. That was not my intent, but one would think you would grow accustomed to my so-called vanishing acts."

"Never." Gaius stated and suddenly appeared rather choked up. For a moment Arthur thought he was getting his second hug of the day but then the old man cleared his throat and asked shrewdly, "Is your father aware that you're back?"

"Supposedly, since he summoned me promptly." Arthur admitted.

"Yet you came here first." The old man rightly concluded.

"He's my next stop." Arthur said before Gaius gave him his signature disapproving look, "I just thought I would dump this metal box I've been carrying around everywhere at its final destination." He emphasized what he said by lifting the trunk a few inches higher.

Just then the light bulbs sprang back to life making both of them look up. Gaius smiled, "Ah, and as always the darkness does end."

"Lift it on my examination table." He said as he briefly turned away to blow out the candles, "That's the perfect height for my back."

"Are you admitting you're getting old, Gaius?" Arthur asked teasingly as he did what he was told. The physician scoffed and answered in the same manner, "I would have done it years earlier if you had the inclination of respecting your elders. Now go stand over there while I exam what you brought."

Gaius pointed towards the second examination table already completely focused on the contents of the trunk. Meanwhile Arthur slid off his backpack, placing it on the floor as he began to rotate his shoulders to lessen the tension.

"Wonderful," The physician beamed as he eyed the unbroken bottles with glee. He was especially happy with the medium high glass container filled with powdered silver. Also the two almost intact first aid kits were much appreciated. More bandages were always welcomed. But it was what Gaius found in another smaller metal box that made his eyes widen with surprise.

"Arthur, these are morphine syrettes." Gaius breathed awed. That had been on the list for so long that he had given up hope that the scavengers would ever find it. And now he was staring down at fifty syrettes at least.

Arthur, who had been leaning back against the table, crossed his arms smugly and asked, "So am I forgiven for giving you a scare?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Gaius said dismissively as he was so focused on the medicines. But then the old man realized what he had agreed to and fixed Arthur with a stern look, "Do try to leave a note the next time. You can write."

"I'll try to remember." Arthur said. He could see Gaius wasn't happy with that half-hearted promise, but the old man didn't comment on that.

Gaius did narrow his eyes in contemplation though before turning all professional, "Now, what have you done to yourself this time?"

Arthur uncrossed his arms again and sighed, "There's just no fooling you, is there Gaius?"

"I've been your physician since your birth, Arthur. Now spill." The old man ordered not unkindly.

"Nothing too bad," Arthur reassured him truthfully, "Just some aches which will pass the moment I get some rest."

"Well, I'll take your word for it." Gaius decided to let it go for now. The young man might be reckless at times but he wouldn't gamble with his health that badly. Still he couldn't help but advice, "Do come see me when your aches are worse than expected. Leaving something untreated-"

"Can be deadly." Arthur finished one of the old man's famous maxims, "I learned your lessons well."

"You were dreaming through half of them." Gaius remarked raising one eyebrow.

"I never slept in class." Arthur said almost affronted as he picked up his bag again.

"Dreaming, Arthur, is not the same as sleeping. Now go grace your father with your fine company," Gaius manoeuvred him out of the door but not without adding some parting advice, "And leave that scowl of yours in the hallway."

"Enter." His father called from the other side after Arthur knocked. The young man took a deep breath, determined to at least heed Gaius' advice for the first five minutes. He made no promises for his temper. Finally he pushed the handle down after procrastinating long enough in the corridor and opened the door.

Uther was standing next to his desk and looking intently at papers scattered across the table top. He was holding a map which he briefly lowered to glance up. Arthur lingered in the doorway, now no longer sure that Leon had given him his father's message correctly. The man looked busy and irritated at being disturbed.

"You wanted to see me?" He said but it sounded more like a question.

"Close the door, Arthur." His father instructed as he put the map down. With the help of his walking-stick he strode around the desk and sat down. Arthur knew he was expected to sit on the chair across of him and did so without dawdling. Now that he was in the lair of the beast, so to speak, the sensible thing to do was to get out quickly. Arthur placed his backpack next to his feet as he took a seat.

"I see that Leon managed to track you down swiftly." His father said by way of introduction, "Good."

Arthur didn't the roll his eyes at that comment even if he dearly wanted to. Gaius would be proud. But since it wasn't really a question the room remained awkwardly silent while Arthur waited for his father to get to the matter at hand. The man seemed intent to study him first though.

"How are you?" Uther asked.

Arthur answered with a clipped, "Fine."

"Good, that's good." The older man nodded to himself before sighing disappointedly and clasping his hands together in front of him, a sure sign things were becoming serious.

"Arthur, you went out without authorization and without notifying anyone. If someone else did it you would be the first to lecture them." Uther told him skilfully turning the tables. The young man supposed that was true, but only because he would go out and drag the person back to the Citadel himself.

"People look up to you," His father went on, "But if you continue to flaunt our rules you're endangering our whole way of living. I should ground you to the Citadel-"

"You can't!" Arthur finally spoke up.

"I said should," Uther retorted, "I'm perfectly aware that you and the rest of your merry band of scavengers are dearly needed. Why you continually go out there alone is another matter."

"You know it's dangerous." His father stated when Arthur didn't explain himself. The young man nearly rolled his eyes again at that obvious statement. And the grass is green and the sky blue, tell me something new, he thought.

"I know, it's just… It doesn't feel that dangerous to me." Arthur shrugged. In winter the unforgiving wind would cut out strange figures in the ice who then seemed to dance in the light of the setting sun. And deep down in the so many sinkholes across the land green things will be growing come Spring. They'll turn those pits into tiny pockets of oases where no man has ever gone before. Honestly, how could he explain the beauty of this new world when everyone else was either afraid, yearning for the old one or both?

His expression must have reflected these thoughts somehow because Uther remarked, "Sometimes I do wonder what goes on in that head of yours."

"Mostly I think you and mum had an unhealthy obsession with the Arthurian legends." The young man replied easily.

"Arthur…" His father warned starting to sound a tad exasperated.

"Exactly my point." Arthur smirked.

"Stop changing the subject." Uther ordered agitatedly now, "You're not a child anymore."

"Yet you don't trust me to make my own decisions."

"Not if they cause you to shriek your responsibilities!" Uther shouted as he slammed his hand flat on the desk. Arthur leaned back in his chair, surprised by the man's sudden outburst. Normally he was the one who snapped. He narrowed his eyes, this was suspicious…

"Father, what's going on? Did something happen?" He asked suddenly recalling his earlier feeling that something was off, "Is this why everyone's so glad to see me? Leon was behaving very weird and Gaius nearly hugged me."

"There was an … incident." Uther carefully choose that last word. Arthur paled and was on the verge of asking the dreaded question when the older man quickly added, "Nobody's hurt and now everyone's also accounted for."

"You thought I went missing." Arthur stated rather stunned. That would explain a few things.

"You were missing, Arthur. If nobody knows where you're off to, you are missing."

Arthur didn't know what to say to that. His father looked very tired suddenly. And wary, the young man noted. It was almost enough to make him try to form some sort of an apology for sneaking out.

There was a long pause before Uther sighed once more and instructed, "Go get some rest, some food. There's a meeting in four hours. I expect you to arrive promptly."

"Yes, father." Arthur replied automatically at the dismissal as he rose and heaved the straps of his backpack over one shoulder. He didn't look back as he left so he didn't see Uther's regretful expression.

Arthur could hear laughter well before entering the kitchen area, his final stop before his own room and bed. He still needed to empty his backpack though. And get some food. And refill his water bottle. Then there was also the chance of seeing more of the other inhabitants although now that the lights were back on, chances that they dispersed again were higher. Still, reasons enough to go to the kitchen.

There were three women present, all seated around the table closest to the open stove where two large pots were simmering. The kitchen had a very high ceiling and at various heights steel beams crisscrossed the room. The stove stood next to the oven where in summer flat breads were baked. There were two freestanding tables and workbenches lined the free walls. The many cabinets and shelves were filled with practical things like cooking utensils or food although those cabinets were only half stocked right now.

Margaret was there of course. The reigning Queen of the household had a talent for organising that rivalled all others and, just as important, a knack for cooking nutritious and delicious meals with only a handful of ingredients. She married Alan at the eve of the Second World War and had managed to establish a prosperous household during rationing which had still been in effect for some products when the earthquake hit.* Arthur had been in her good graces for years but the formidable woman had scared him when he was a boy. Truth to be told, most men had a healthy reverence for her now.

Next to her sat Freya, who made him uncomfortable for some reason. It had nothing to do with anything the girl did. She was perfectly nice if a bit quiet at times. There was just something about her that made him feel sad. She was a year younger than him but in the past Arthur had believed her to be much older. Geoffrey had called her an old soul when Arthur brought it up once. Morgana had just called him mean so he shut up about it.

The other woman was June. She was married to Nolan, Margaret's son, who was the only scavenger left above the age of thirty. He met June in the wild actually when, as the story goes, they literally bumped into each other and fell in love. As a boy Arthur had gagged at Rya's mellifluous retelling of that encounter. He certainly wasn't the only boy. In truth, June had been out with her own group to search the wilderness. That meeting was the fourth time the inhabitants of the Citadel had proof that they weren't alone in the world.

"Ladies," He greeted wondering about their good humour before deciding wisely he didn't want to know. After spotting the two boys who were building a tower on the floor with empty cans he added, "Young gentlemen."

A shouted, "Arthur!", was all the warning he got before he was almost barrelled over by the Citadel's youngest. He might become the Citadel's most enthusiastic resident in time but for now that honour still went to Robbie who'd been hoarding the title for years. Arthur suspected that wouldn't last long anymore. Before he left the thirteen-year-old had sulked for hours after Arthur had adamantly refused to let him become a scavenger.

The fact that he himself had been younger on his first expedition wasn't a good enough argument. When Arthur had started going on trips to the outside world those had rarely been longer than three days. Now being gone for a week or more from the settlement's safety was the norm as all the nearby supplies had been pilfered already. In truth the Citadel could use an extra member to their scavenger groups but Arthur couldn't in good conscience allow Robbie to tag along. That he was fond of the boy was another reason to keep him safe. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

In two years' time all Arthur's arguments would become mute anyway as fifteen was the latest any young man had joined. The girls, led by Evelyn or Evy for short, had protested to that unfairness but their fathers and mothers had remained unyielding. Eventually Evy joined the day she became sixteen, paving the way for the others.

A year later Arthur had joined and he still remembered how nervous he was. He'd been so scared that his favourite cousin would be angry with him, but she patiently explained all the things she had learned up till then never holding what had been his father's decision against him.

He still missed her ardent enthusiasm for things others overlooked every time he went out. Gwaine's older brother Michael was the only other person who shared her love for a spectacular view or the strange flying patterns of a flock of birds. It was something they passed on to him before vanishing.

"Hello Sean." Arthur greeted with a smile. It felt a little weak after his bleak thoughts but the small boy didn't notice as he had buried his face quite deeply in the fabric of Arthur's trousers. Sean mumbled something in reply while he remained clinging to his legs like a monkey.

"Sean sweetie, Arthur can't hear you like that." June, the two boys' mother, came to his rescue.

The small child tilted his head back, without releasing his grip on Arthur's legs as if fearing he would go away again, and repeated in one breath, "Hi Arthur, I'm glad you're back, I thought you were going to miss my birthday and I'm almost four."

"Four? I thought you were only turning three." Arthur play-acted.

"That was last year!" Sean told him loudly and let go of Arthur legs so he could hold up four fingers, "See? Four."

"I see." He replied seriously, "I will try to remember."

"You do that." Sean said gravely and then stepped back smiling happily now that the confusion was cleared up.

Nathan stepped forward and greeted Arthur with the elaborate handshake they had perfected around Christmas. He was a much more solemn child who was quite satisfied with letting his little brother get the attention first. Unlike Sean Nathan had never been an aimless chatterbox. His eyes twinkled however when they ended their handshake and the boy concluded thoughtfully, "You didn't forget. There's still hope for you."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly at that. He was being teased by a seven-year-old. June greeted him next with a bone-crushing hug that made him wince. Only Freya who was literally next in line, saw his painful expression. Thankfully she kept mum. She was however much more gentle in her greeting.

Margaret didn't hug him. Instead she placed a steaming plate with baked beans and rice on the table and ordered him to eat while handing him a spoon. He knew now that it was a very warm welcome indeed. The three women returned to their previous seats while Arthur sat down as well having a whole table for himself. After taking a bite and savouring the taste, he placed his backpack in front of him and he looked around the kitchen.

"Who wants to help me unload?" He asked and smiled as the two boys hurried to him after they had wandered back to their tower.

They made a game of it. Arthur would take something out of his backpack, laid in on the table while he ate and then Sean or Nathan in turn would present it to the women. Soon Arthur's backpack became as wondrous as Mary Poppins' carpetbag when he conjured things like matches, a tin of dried tea leaves, candles, several balls of yarn and a large variety of canned food like sardines, peaches, Spam, baked beans, lentils and even tuna.*

Nathan pretended to be a merchant, praising the goods like a natural while his younger brother would bounce, held up whatever he'd been carrying and said it looked nice. He did that a total of two times before declaring that he wanted to sit on Arthur's lap. Where he sat still for the grand total of five minutes while prattling on before gravitating towards the tower again. Arthur wondered idly when it would fall over.

"I don't know what these are." Nathan admitted quietly when Arthur took out the dozen carrot-like vegetables last. They weren't orange though but white and a lot thicker at the top.

"Then be mysterious. That's always a good selling point." Arthur whispered back. Sean was suddenly there again and helped his brother carry the vegetables to the other table.

"My boy, I could kiss you now." Margaret exclaimed in surprise, "Parsnips! Where on earth did you find parsnips!" She held up the root with so much pleasure that it shocked the other adults and immediately got up getting knives and chopping boards. Clearly she planned to serve it for tonight's dinner.

Meanwhile Arthur had finished eating and asked, "Is there any hot water left?" Usually they kept a pot of water near the fire so it would boil quickly if needed.

"There is." Freya supplied and already guessing the reason for his question asked, "Would you like a bucket to carry it back?"

"If that's okay with you, Margaret?" Arthur asked as he stood up not willing to take so much water if it was needed here. He was already taking some of their supply to refill his water bottle after all.

"I think you can ask for anything now after bringing us fresh vegetables." Freya answered instead. The older woman harrumphed but didn't correct her. The girl handed him a bucket and Arthur carefully poured the hot water in.

"If you drop your filthy clothes off after dinner, I'll wash them for you." June offered as she crouched down next to the boys' tower. Nathan was busy trying to fix Sean's helpful additions to the construction. This division of labour worked apparently since the building was still standing.

"You don't need to do that, June." The young man quickly said not wanting to burden the woman.

"I know, but I do need to wash my children's clothes today. An extra set will hardly make the difference." June waved his objections off as she put Sean onto her lap. The boy had been yawning ever since he had helped Arthur unload.

"When put like that, I'll gladly take you up on your offer." Arthur said relieved as it was one less thing he needed to do. He carried the bucket and his water bottle back to the table, putting the latter one in his bag. Then he heaved the backpack over his shoulders, hopefully for the last time today, and seized the bucket once more.

Just then Sean started to cry, "I don't want to go. I want to stay here with Nathan. Only babies take naps!"

"Are you saying I'm a baby?" Arthur asked the boy who stopped his struggle in his mother's arms. Clearly the question had taken him by surprise. "Because I'm going to take a nap now as well."

"Really?" The little boy asked.

"Really." He reaffirmed and admitted ruefully, "Otherwise I'll be grumpy at dinner."

Sean made a frowny face, "Nobody likes grumpy Arthur."

June and Freya snorted while Margaret shooed him out of her kitchen saying, "You heard the child. Now off you go, nobody likes grumpy Arthur."

As expected it was cold in his small room, Arthur sighed as he flicked on the lone lightbulb and closed the door behind him. The benefit of having such a tiny one however was that it warmed up quickly when he was there. If he stretched his arms above his head for instance, he could place his hands flat on the ceiling. Luckily there was some place to manoeuvre but his bed did take up almost half the space.

There was a wardrobe next to the door for all his stuff that didn't fit on the shelves hanging above the bed. There was also a small table with a rather big bowl on top in comparison and a jug. A chair was his last piece of furniture and Arthur placed his bag next to the seat. He then poured as much water as he could in the jug before setting the bucket down as well. After untying his shoelaces he placed the worn boots near the door and went to his wardrobe next.

Selecting a red woollen jumper, a pair of dark brown trousers, a white vest, socks and underwear which he all threw on the bed, was easy. He paused at his shirts though. He had three, well four including the one he was wearing. In the end he decided to go for the softest shirt he owned which was a faded red one, instead of the stark white one he got this Christmas. He grabbed two towels as well and spread one of them out on the floor in front of the small table.

That done he stripped down completely, dropping the dirty clothes down on a pile next to his bag and looked himself over critically. He didn't have a mirror in his room but he was fairly certain that his back looked as badly as what he could see on his front. His torso and thighs were littered with bruises. Luckily, and just as he suspected, there were no cuts.

After wetting his hair with the water from the jug while leaning over the bowl to avoid spillage, Arthur used some liquid shampoo to massage his scalp until the foam almost dripped down his back. He rinsed off again and repeated the process two more times until he deemed his hair clean enough. With a wet cloth and soap he hurriedly washed the rest of his body before the water cooled down completely.

When all the clean water was used Arthur poured it from the bowl back into the bucket to carry it out later and towelled himself dry. Shaving his light stubble would have to wait. He had just put on his underwear and had stepped into the legs of his trousers when a voice startled him.

"They look painful."

"Morgana!" Arthur yelled indignantly while hurriedly pulling up his trousers. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't be so modest, brother of mine," She said as she closed the door behind her and sat herself down on his bed, "You've got nothing I haven't seen before."

"Not really the conversation I want to be having with my sister." Arthur pointed out already knowing that asking her to leave would be a futile endeavour, "Maybe I should punch Leon." He added with a scowl and held out his hand to her.

"Don't, he's a perfect gentleman." Morgana assured him and gave him his vest where she'd been so helpfully sitting on.

"You didn't answer my question, what are you doing in here?" He asked again as he pulled the garment over his head.

"You didn't answer mine."

"What question?"

"Men…" Morgana muttered, "Do I really have to spell out everything?"

"If you want Leon to propose you might need to change tactics." Arthur suggested subtly while he crouched down to save his belt from the pile of dirty clothes.

"Pot, meet kettle, dear brother." Morgana quipped easily, "At least Leon and I are seeing each other. When was the last time you really spoke to Gwen?" She asked.

"I've been busy." Arthur countered as he pulled the belt back through the loops.

"Busy running away…" His sister muttered loud enough for him to hear. Now that would always remain a sore point between them, Arthur reflected regretfully.

Morgana let the silence drag out for a bit before asking, "What are you actually looking for out there?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I find out." Arthur had no other answer for her. In an effort to get back on track he pointed to his chest.

"Now about these, I had a strange encounter…" Arthur said weighing his words. When he saw Morgana purse her lips he hurriedly added, "I know I'm being annoyingly vague but if you're going to the meeting you'll learn more. Now, shirt please."

"Of course, I'm going to be there." Morgana declared as she handed him the piece of clothing, "Leon's freaked out about something. And nobody's telling a thing, not even Gwaine and you know how hard it is to get him to shut up about something. They are being even more tight-lipped than you are right now." She complained with a huff.

"Morgana, why are you here?" Arthur asked giving his sister his full attention for the first time since she stepped into his room. He hadn't buttoned his shirt yet, but Morgana was usually more direct in her dealings. It worried him a bit. His sister looked up and focused on the bruise right below his collarbone. To Arthur's shock he could see tears in her eyes.

"I- I had a nightmare four nights ago. Now I know it was another vision." She stammered and before Arthur knew it he had his arms around her after Morgana had launched herself at him and buried her head against his shoulder. She in turn was mindful of the bruises otherwise Arthur suspected she might have squeezed him to death as she sobbed into their hug. He wasn't really an expert on crying women, quite the contrary in fact, but Morgana was his sister and by default this wasn't the first time he found himself in this situation.

"Hey, I'm fine, Morgana." He whispered softly hoping it would be enough as he rubbed her back comfortingly, "Just bruised, see?"

She calmed down after a few minutes but didn't release her hold on him yet. Arthur suspected she needed to believe that he really was all right. He couldn't imagine how she had felt during the past days. Now that he studied her from up close he noticed how pale and tired she looked.

"I just saw the beginning, not the end so I didn't know." Morgana seemed to read his thoughts, "I didn't know if you survived the attack. It looked so horrible."

"Did you speak with Dad about it?" He asked. Now that made her look up.

"Oh, so it's Dad again?" Morgana asked sceptically as she took a step back accepting Arthur's offered handkerchief without a word. To his relief she seemed completely calmed down again as she sagged on his bed once more. Arthur plunked down next to her.

"Always with you." He admitted a bit wistfully, "Did you?"

"I didn't want to worry him any more than he already was this time. He does worry, you know that right?" She asked, "Every single time you go out."

"I always return." Arthur reassured her, but Morgana looked at him mournfully as if she already knew something he didn't.

"Until the one time you don't."

Just like during his talk with his father, Arthur didn't know what to say to that.

"Well, as lovely as catching up with you has been," Morgana said decisively with a trace of irony and stood back up, "I'm going to try to identify those plants you brought. Just so you know, if they turn out to be poisonous again I'm going to hit you with a botany book."

"Gaius was happy." Arthur defended himself raising his hands.

"Gaius doesn't know all your embarrassing secrets." Morgana smiled sweetly before sighing. She brushed his hair back just like their mother used to do and said, "Get some rest, little brother, I'll come and wake you when it's time."

*Feeling that some names just didn't fit in the twentieth century I changed a few. Alan and Lewis are Alator and Iseldir or however the older druid man's name's spelled.

*Rationing ended in July 1954 for the UK.

*Apparently with some luck you can still eat canned food 100 years after it was packed, not always though, but still…

So any thoughts? You're slowly getting to know some of the citizens. :)

I'm a bit stuck on the next chapter with the meeting. I could give you detailed backgrounds on every person there (like age, related to others how, etc.) or you'll just have to bear with me when I mention a new name until their background is revealed on a later date. There will be 28 persons in total at that meeting. So I'm slightly leaning for option 2 which is what I've been doing till now as it might be a dry read otherwise...