Author's notes: I am back to posting on my usual Fridays, and hopefully I will continue to do so for a while. I think this is a fairly long chapter, so hope this will make up for my missed week. I'd like to thank those who have started to follow this story. It's always nice to pick up more readers, but I would love to hear from you.

Chapter Five

A Hard Truth

Unfortunately, for the nerves of the three people who had a truth to tell, Arthur slept later than normal.

Gwen had only napped throughout the night, waking often to check that her husband was really beside her and that he was still breathing. The guttering candles in the wall-sconces had gleamed off her tears, as she lightly traced the contours of his cheek and jaw, lingering on his lips, which she dared not kiss, too afraid she might wake him. But she needed to touch him, reassure herself she wasn't dreaming.

Yet his sleep was so deep, so soundless, almost like a state of coma, and she could hardly believe she would welcome his snoring. A fleeting grin crossed her face as she remembered the first time he'd stayed in her home in the town, and she'd thought she had given haven to a pig! How had a serving girl had the audacity to tell a prince that? And how indignant he'd been, yet how much they had laughed over it all.

That time had been the beginning of their love affair, only they'd had to weather many storms before their marriage, and many since. This... illness... slight illness, was just another they would get through together.

In the room next door, Merlin had assumed that he would not be able to sleep either, yet the stress, physical and emotional, of the last few days had taken its toll, even on the world's most powerful warlock, and he did sleep, if fitfully. His night was filled with dreams of losing Arthur, or of Arthur turning against him and his magic, after he revealed to The King that he might never be totally well again.

While Arthur wasn't the arrogant, supercilious prince of long ago, he was still a man who was proud of his physical prowess. How would he adjust to a life less active? It was true he no longer had to prove himself on the jousting field, but he had enjoyed the art and exercise of pitting himself against another well-trained knight. The King's first instinct would probably be pleasure in that he still lived, but as the years went by, would he learn to live with his disability or come to resent it?

All these thoughts plagued Merlin's sleep, and he woke with a determination to discover a way to cure Arthur completely. What was the point in being this immortal warlock, if he couldn't help his friend?

Gaius was the only one of the three who slept soundly. This didn't mean that he was less concerned than Gwen or Merlin, but as one who had witnessed a life time of trials and triumphs, he was more optimistic about Arthur's reaction. The boy might mourn the loss of his physical strength, but he had grown into a wise, level-headed king. Arthur would prevail; he was certain of it.

To tell the truth, Gaius was more anxious about Gwen's returning memory. Over the past few days, The Queen had experienced the horror of battle, the worry of not knowing where her husband was and the death of a dear friend. Discovering she was a murderer and traitor, might be enough to push her over the edge, even if she hadn't been responsible for any of her actions at the time.

Arthur's health wasn't the only subject which needed addressing.

Then there was the whole question of legalising magic! That was a decree which might not go down well with everyone in Albion. Gaius had already brought up Sir Leon's reaction, and though he doubted Leon would be a problem, there were those who could cause a great deal of trouble.

Life in Camelot was never dull, but at his advanced age, he would appreciate a spell of peace and tranquillity.

So it was, when The King finally awoke, the trio, on whom most of his care would rest, were in various states of apprehension.

Contrarily, Arthur felt more rested and stronger than he had since being wounded. He'd always known that coming home would act like a tonic to his battered body and soul. Although there had been times when he'd felt unsure and burdened by his responsibilities to his people, Camelot and its residents would always hold his heart. Besides, all those he loved most were here.

With the sun streaming through the leaded glass windows, casting myriad colours on the room, he lay quite still on his feather mattress, content to enjoy the moment. Soon his duty would call him, and he would have to be up and busy, but for a few minutes, he wanted time alone with his wife. After all, he had the distinct recollection of falling asleep on her last night, when no doubt she wanted to hear about all his adventures, and welcome him home in the way only she knew how.

He'd given permission for Merlin to relate all that had happened, hoping Merlin had included his confessions of magic. Arthur hadn't lied when he'd thanked Merlin for all the spells he'd used to protect himself and Camelot. He appreciated his friend's help from the bottom of his heart, and he didn't want Merlin to change, but Arthur wasn't naive enough to presume everyone in the kingdom would feel so sanguine about sorcery's return. Which was why he needed the core group of his friends to agree with his plans. Not that he had a plan, as yet. Hopefully, between himself, Guinevere, Gaius and Merlin, and those left of the knights, they could present a united front to his council.

But the band of knights who had been his staunchest supporters were slowly being whittled away. Now Gwaine was lost. Arthur would have valued his backing now. Gwaine had been particularly close to Merlin, and The King was certain he would have supported anything which would ease Merlin's position in Camelot.

Arthur shifted restlessly on his pillow. At once, Guinevere was by his side.

"Arthur?" she whispered. "Are you well, my love?"

She was dressed in her simplest attire, her dark hair tied back to cascade down to her waist, yet wispy curls escaped, framing her face. A face that showed she hadn't slept well, with tiny lines drawn between her brows. Arthur thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

"How could I not be, now I'm with you," he said, his voice hoarse, though not for the reason of the days before. He stretched out a hand, and tangled his fingers in the tendrils of her hair. "Kiss me?" He wasn't sure if it were a demand or a plea, though any would do if it would gain his request.

Guinevere didn't need much persuading, with a smile she bent down and captured his lips, and his hands slid deeper into her hair. All the longing and fear of the last few days, melted away under the pressure of his mouth on hers.

Arthur pulled her down to rest beside him, cradling her close against his side... and gasped aloud.

Immediately, Gwen jumped back. "Arthur, you are not well! We shouldn't be doing this."

"Actually, I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing, but perhaps you should move to the other side where I don't have a wound."

Wanting exactly the same thing as her husband, but fearing he was still too ill for anything too physical, she made one more attempt to dissuade him. "You asked our friends to meet here this morning. They'll be along soon. Perhaps we should wait until night to celebrate your return."

Busily moving Guinevere to a more comfortable position, Arthur was taking every opportunity to caress his wife, while his lips whispered over the column of her neck. "Relax, my Guinevere. I'm sure our friends won't disturb us this early. They'll know I want some private time with my wife."

Arthur, of course, had forgotten his servant's bad habit of entering unannounced.

"Good morning," came the happily, cheeky voice of Merlin, as he bounced into the room. "Though technically, it is past noon, so it isn't morning any longer."

Arthur groaned, while Gwen bit down on her lip to suppress a grin.

"Up and at 'em, you lazy daisies!" Merlin continued, blithely.

Two pairs of eyes, blue and brown regarded the servant, one exasperated, the other amused.

"Merlin! Learn to knock!" Arthur growled, his frustration growing while his desire deflated. He pushed himself up and was surprised by another twinge of pain, which he ignored, hoping Guinevere wouldn't notice his second, admittedly quieter, gasp. "And we've already had this conversation. You're no longer a servant. You don't need to dress me, or bring my breakfast, or do any other 'servanty' things."

Merlin ignored Arthur's words and went on setting the contents of his tray on the table, then tidying away last night's clothes. "Well, you haven't appointed another servant yet, so I'll just carry out the duties until you do. Besides, I don't mind being your servant..."

"Yes, you did mention that, but since you saved me and half the army at Camlann, I really think you need a new position, though what it will be is something we need to discuss."

Gwen stood up from the bed, smoothing her skirts, then crossed to the mirror to adjust her hair, which her husband had loosened from its ribbon. How had he managed to do that so quickly? Clearly there was nothing wrong with his hands. Thankfully, Merlin had come in at just the right moment, because she doubted she would have been able to resist Arthur's enticement for much longer, and those moans of pain proved he wasn't ready for what he had in mind. Which, in truth, she wasn't totally against... However, there were more important problems to be addressed, so she joined in the conversation from behind the screen.

"Merlin's right. You do need to rise and dress, otherwise you'll be conducting your first privy council from bed."

"No way!" Arthur disagreed vehemently and swung his legs to the ground, causing his wife and servant to suppress a smile. The King would rather die than show weakness to his councillors.

"Not that it is a council meeting, yet. Just a discussion between friends." And to prove he was self-sufficient, he opened his wardrobe and drew out his favourite red shirt, turned and looked around the room. "I've no time to take a bath, but where's a bowl, Merlin? he asked, completely reversing his last statement about Merlin not being a servant. "I need water to wash in, and my razor. It feels like I'm growing a beard," he said, running his hand over his chin. "I don't think that would be a good look on me, and poor Guinevere isn't fond of stubble. Come on," he demanded, regally. "Don't just stand there!"

Merlin regarded Arthur, blankly. "You shouldn't talk to The Queen like that!"

"I'm not! I'm addressing you, clot-pole!"

"But you just said I wasn't your servant... You should try being consistent. Oh, and make up your own insults and stop borrowing mine."

Merlin, suddenly, found the floor very interesting to study, while from behind the screen, Gwen gave up the battle of trying not to laugh, which, of course, destroyed Merlin's composure and he too burst into fits of laughter.

Staring from one to the other, Arthur spluttered. "A king shouldn't have to put up with his subjects making fun of him. Isn't it some sort of treason? Definitely worth a morning in the stocks."

"Arthur, you wouldn't put your queen in the stocks!" Merlin ground out between giggles.

"I wasn't talking about Guinevere. I can devise my own punishments for her." As he looked at Gwen his eyes twinkled and he lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

"Fine, to save Camelot from a dearth of vegetables, you might want this." And Merlin pointed to a bowl and jug sitting at the opposite end of the table to where he'd placed the food.

"Fine! I was just testing," informed Arthur, haughtily, crossing to the said bowl, pouring in the water and beginning to wash his face and neck.

He hadn't gone far, when Guinevere crossed to his side, taking the cloth from his hand. "Please, let me," she said, patting gently at the pink, puckered scar where Mordred's sword had entered his body, sending Merlin a sharp questioning look when Arthur's muscles tensed at her touch.

Yet neither warlock nor queen had a chance to talk, as Arthur wrinkled his nose and asked. "Merlin, will this scar heal? It has sealed over, but it doesn't look quite right."

"Let me look," Merlin answered quickly, checking the wound over. "I don't believe there is any infection, but it would be better if Gaius examined it."

Merlin leaned very close and sniffed, which caused Arthur to push him away. "What are you doing? Get away!"

"I'm only being a physician," Merlin explained, backing off and raising both hands in surrender. "What did you think I was doing? An underlying infection would cause the wound to smell. You'll be pleased to know that apart from sweat, you smell fine."

"I knew that!" Arthur pointed his finger at Merlin. "And I don't sweat."

Gwen's head swivelled from one to the other. "Now, now. Play nice, children," she admonished, though her heart sang at the normality of the situation. "And, actually, Arthur, you should wash some more. You do smell a bit of sweat... though no doubt that is because you have had a slight fever."

Arthur's lip pouted, but he did as Guinevere suggested. "I swear you two are going to gang up against me for the rest of my life. I'm going to be the most put-upon king the world has ever known."

At the mention of the rest of his life, seriousness settled over Gwen and Merlin like a blanket, though Arthur was busy at his ablutions and seemed not to notice the pregnant silence. After Gwen had helped him dry off, she pulled his shirt over his head, helped change his trousers and allowed him to fasten his belt. Meanwhile, Merlin had been readying Arthur's razor and The King sat quietly while his servant shaved him.

When finally Arthur was presentable, he stunned his wife and friend by asking suddenly, "Right! Now, that's finished, would you mind telling me what has made you both look like you've been visited by the ghost of my father?"

"Arthur?" Gwen tried to appear bewildered, but dropped her gaze, knowing that she couldn't long fool Arthur. For all his nonsensical fun with Merlin, he was beginning to be a wiser husband as well as a king.

"Sire, I'm not sure what you mean. Don't you think you should eat something before the meeting?" Merlin tried for distraction again, but this time it didn't have the desired effect.

"Probably, but I won't let a morsel pass my lips until you both come clean." He crossed to the desk by the window, seated himself and waited. "And if this is going to be a long conversation, which I assume it might be, you can send the guards to tell the others I will summon them to the meeting later."

"Arthur..." Guinevere started, imploringly, walking quickly across the floor towards him.

"No, Guinevere." Arthur sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't try to sweet talk me. I know you and Merlin are holding something back, and I want to know what it is... now!"

"I wasn't trying to dissuade you," Gwen assured him, halting her progress by the end of the bed, and looking somewhat perturbed. "I just wanted to suggest that it might be a good idea if Gaius was present."

Nodding his head slowly, Arthur continued, looking back and forth between the two. "So, as I thought, this does have something to do with my injury." He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, his blue gaze piercing. "Is my wound infected?"

Gwen froze, and Merlin shifted his stare to the unmade bed, saying quietly as he went to straighten the covers. "If only that were all..."

"I heard that, Merlin. Leave that for someone else to fix," Arthur ordered, "and explain what you mean."

But on cue, Merlin got a reprieve, as there was a knock at the door and a guard entered, announcing Gaius. It was due to the chaos and unease of the citizens of Camelot after the battle, that there were guards stationed outside the Royal Chambers at all times. In normal circumstances, the guards would patrol the citadel, but weren't required to stand sentry around the clock.

Gaius was escorted in, completely oblivious of the tension in the room, as Arthur called to the guard, "Take a message to Sir Leon for me, if you will. Tell him he and Sir Percival will not be required to attend me until later. I will send for them when necessary."

The soldier bowed and left.

"Am I mistaken?" Gaius asked, looking around in puzzlement. "Was there not a meeting called for today?"

"Indeed there was, Gaius." Arthur's stare skewered the old physician. "However, it has come to my notice that there is more pressing business to be addressed first, namely, what you and these two," he pointed at Merlin and Gwen, "have been withholding from me."

"Ah, that," Gaius admitted with a lift of his eyebrow, coming to stand before Arthur's desk. "I hope you won't take this amiss, Sire, but if Merlin and Gwen have remained silent, it was only for your own good, and they were only waiting for the best opportunity to tell you the truth."

Arthur looked once more at his queen and friend, keeping silent, as if examining their hearts; finally he relented and spoke. "I understand. Merlin could hardly tell me when we were on the road, and I take it that Guinevere didn't know until last night, and I was hardly in any state to listen." He pushed up from his seat and, as he crossed to the table, he took Guinevere's hand and ushered her to a chair. "But now I am ready to listen to whatever it is you have to say, and we might as well be comfortable while you pronounce your diagnosis."

Gaius obeyed, but Merlin held back. He'd been dreading this revelation since Kilgarrah had left them by the lakeside.

"Merlin, please," Arthur said more kindly, beckoning Merlin over. "No matter what you have to tell me, I'm not going to hold you responsible. I believe you have done all you can."

Doing as he was bid, it occurred to Merlin that Arthur might know more than he was admitting about his condition. No one spoke as they settled into their seats, and the uneasy quiet stretched onwards, till Arthur prompted.

"Merlin, you told me I have a sliver of metal in my chest. Now I have known others who have lived with such injuries, though I suspect the foreign objects have been in a less serious place." Once more Arthur looked at his companions, though his gaze finally settled on Guinevere with a sadness which came straight from his soul. "Am I going to die?"

"Everyone dies, Sire," Gaius said with resignation. "And you are correct. Such an injury in a limb would be more easily treated." Each one around the table was aware of how that treatment would go, and Arthur was rather pleased that he wouldn't lose any part of his anatomy. "However," the physician continued, "the metal embedded in you is in such a place that it is too difficult to remove, even if it were not enchanted. But I do not believe you are going to perish in the near future, especially if you heed our instructions."

"Arthur, it is as I told you." Merlin finally found his voice. "Kilgarrah would have removed the shard if it were possible. Instead, he did the best he could by halting and freezing its progress. Only he couldn't say how long his magic would last, though he has taught me a holding spell which will reinforce his enchantment and a potion which will help with the congestion in your lungs."

"So the cough isn't just a cold I've caught from lying on the ground?"

Gaius answered his king. "No, sire, I'm afraid not. The shard will effect your heart's purpose, and thus fluid will gather in your lungs, making it more difficult for you to breathe. I do have other treatments I can prescribe for you, along with Merlin's potion, which will ease the condition."

"Oh, joy!" Arthur laid back in his chair and stared at the ceiling, while Guinevere slipped her hand into his. He gripped it hard. "What does this mean for me? I take it I will never be in full health again?"

"No, Sire," Gaius answered, as he felt tears well in his eyes. He hated giving such a prognosis to this young man whom he'd taken care of from a babe. Why had this happened? He was an old man who would gladly die rather than see this boy hurt.

"It isn't all bad, Arthur," Merlin forced a lightness into his tone. "There are treatments to investigate which could help you."

Arthur threw his friend a glance. "Magic ways?" he asked doubtfully, showing he wasn't as comfortable with the use of sorcery as he pretended.

"Yes! Sorcery can only be fought with sorcery, as Gaius told you once before," Merlin replied more eagerly, as his mind warmed to the idea.

"It worked for me, Arthur. I was cleansed of Morgana's enchantments." Guinevere added her persuasion, though the others were too intent on Arthur's problem that they didn't notice Gwen's brow wrinkle or her eyes glaze over, due, particularly, to Arthur's next statement.

"But you weren't dead, Guinevere, and I'm pretty sure that I was, and I've also been told that to save a life, or in my case, to recreate my life, another life must be taken." Again, Arthur's intent gaze pierced Merlin and Gaius. "Isn't that so?"

"You didn't die," Merlin pronounced, though more in hope that certainty.

"Yes, I did. You and I both know that for sure. Perhaps only for a moment, but I would have stayed dead if Kilgarrah had not acknowledged your anguish and brought me back... and for that Kilgarrah gave his life."

Merlin was shaking his head vehemently. "Kilgarrah would have died anyway, his life was not taken to redress the balance for yours. It was completely different."

Reaching out his free hand, Arthur clutched Merlin's arm. "Can you swear to that, Merlin? I believe you when you say Kilgarrah was old and weak, though we can't be sure that he wouldn't have lived for another few months, or a year or so." Arthur held hard to his friend's arm and his wife's hand, anchoring himself to the two people he cared for most in this world. "I won't risk another person's life for my own. I don't care what any of you say. I won't do it."

"Arthur, you are needed," Merlin pleaded, covering Arthur's hand. "Not just by the people here, but all over the kingdom. Camelot will need a strong king in the time to come."

"Perhaps," Arthur granted, with a small smile. "Though I think you put too much faith in me. I did not place my royal seal in Guinevere's hands lightly. She is compassionate and wise... wiser than I."

"I think we are all being a little previous here," Gaius said, adding a dose of reality to the emotionally charged conversation, while stealing a cautious look at Gwen. When they'd been talking of her husband, she'd seemed strangely distant.

"How so, Gaius?" Arthur asked, tamping down his eagerness, yet human enough to seek some kind of hope.

"You are not on your deathbed, Arthur, and between Merlin and myself, I believe we can keep you fairly healthy for some time to come. But I'm afraid that training and tournaments will be forbidden for now."

"No!" At last the anguish of a young, vigorous man broke through Arthur's control. "What good is a king who cannot fight for his people?"

"You have an army of knights to fight for you. Men who would gladly give their life to protect you." Merlin spoke gently, yet from the depth of his soul, as images of the past flashed instantaneously through his mind's eye.

He remembered a young Arthur in Ealdor, while they waited for the brigands to attack. How he had instilled the villagers with hope and the courage to fight for their freedom. The page turned, and he saw a sea shore by The Labyrinth of Gedref, where waves broke upon the rocks and seagulls wheeled, calling, overhead. He and Arthur sitting at a table with two goblets between them, as an old man looked on. Merlin had worked out the riddle, but Arthur had drunk the poison, giving his life willingly to right the wrong he'd done and save his people from starvation.

Arthur leading their madcap adventure to save Elyan from the Castle of Fyrien, just to put a smile on Gwen's face. And much later, when Elyan had been possessed by the spirit of a Druid boy, Arthur confessed his guilt, and his heart-felt pledge to the Druid people had freed Elyan and allowed the boy to rest in peace. He'd also won over Queen Annis by admitting his terrible mistake and offering reparation, thus saving his men and Carleon's from falling in battle. Of course, Merlin had always been in the background, helping his friend, but Arthur hadn't known that. He might make mistakes, but his brave heart never faltered in times of need.

"We need you, Arthur!" Merlin's voice took on the authority of Emrys. "No one else! To unite Albion and bring about a golden age of justice for all, we need your belief and your compassion. We need you to inspire and guide your people as only you can. You have been a great warrior, now we have need of a great statesman."

Arthur smiled, though his smile went awry. "I only hope I can live up to your expectations, Merlin. Guinevere has better judgement than I." He shook his wife's hand as he spoke, and her blank stare cleared.

"What?" she asked, startled.

"I just said you are a much better judge of character than I am." Arthur smiled at Gwen. "Don't try denying it."

"But I do. You are a great king, Arthur, and now you have the time to realise your dream for Camelot." She still sounded troubled, causing Gaius to study her surreptitiously.

"As long as I have you and Merlin to keep me on the right track, I suppose I can strive to be as good a king as Camelot deserves." Arthur considered for a moment. "In fact, Merlin, I think I will promote you to councillor."

"Don't you think that's a little too soon?" Merlin frowned at his king. "People will need time to get used to the fact that I have magic, and you haven't yet announced that you're legalising it. That won't go down well with all your citizens."

Gaius decided to add his persuasion. "I agree with Merlin. To announce you're reversing your father's laws against sorcery, and placing Merlin, a known sorcerer, on your council at the same moment, might be too much of an adjustment for the people to accept."

Arthur, batted his chest, which produced a coughing fit, prompting Guinevere to offer him a sip of water, and Gaius to offer a sip of his elixir. After a few seconds, Arthur's wheeze settled. "See, that's exactly what I mean. I make the wrong choices all the time. I can't remember not to hit my own chest! And, you've said it yourself, Merlin, I can't even dress myself."

"That's when you're pretending to be a royal prat!" Merlin answered, with a resolute nod of his head.

Worry for Arthur caused Gwen to ignore the ethereal images which were haunting the recesses of her mind. "Arthur, no one expects you to act alone. That's why you have a council, and, if we have finished our discussion on your health for the moment, perhaps you should summon Leon and Percival. They too should be included in the matter of Merlin and magic."

"True, Guinevere. As to my health, there really isn't any more to be said. I am as I am, and it appears will be till the day I die. I should count myself lucky to be alive, and I'm sure I'll become accustomed," Arthur said dismissively if a little sadly, took another drink and cleared his throat. "Merlin, could you have the guard send for Leon and Percival, please?"

Merlin's eyebrows raised. "See! You're even learning manners. I knew my lessons weren't all in vain." He crossed to the door, opened it and relayed The King's request. Within seconds he was back, reassuring Arthur. "And you've also learned that you can't bear the burden of kingship alone. That's quite a change."

"I can learn from my mistakes, Merlin," Arthur stated, looking a little aggrieved. "You know, for someone who keeps telling me I'm destined to be the greatest king the world has ever known, you don't have a great opinion of me."

Merlin startled, staring at his friend. "You know I don't mean that, any more than you think I'm completely incompetent." He stood close by Arthur, holding his hand over his heart as he made his pledge. "I admire you more than any other man I have ever known. I love you like a brother, and I would gladly give my life for yours. This I swear."

"As I would for you." Arthur gave a similar salute, though he was more careful touching his chest this time. "And, though you have lied to me for a decade, I trust you more than any other man, which is why I need you on my council. Nobles and commoners be damned, I intend to give you a position worth the devotion you have shown to me and to Camelot."

"Might I suggest a compromise?" Gaius asked, proud that Merlin was finally getting the recognition he deserved, but aware that promoting him to a full member of the council was unwise for now.

"Please do, Gaius. It was for this reason I called this meeting today, which is why I ask you to hold that thought until Leon and Percival join us. Meanwhile, it would be a shame to allow this food to go to waste. Be my guests." He gestured at the spread on the table, and for a short time there was silence as everyone continued to eat, using the time for a moment of reflection, the quiet broken only by inconsequential topics of conversation.

Arthur was surprised to find he had an appetite, after all. He wasn't happy about the facts he'd received about his injury, though, if he were honest, he hadn't been totally shocked. The pain, the cough, and the feeling of oppression beneath his ribcage had suggested an underlying cause. He just hadn't expected it to be a death sentence, and one that might, in the end, outfox even Merlin.

Meanwhile, as Merlin picked at the meal, he reinforced his commitment not to drop the question of Arthur's wound. There had to be something which could be done. He had a lot of research to do, perhaps contact the Druids who were more skilled in the healing arts. They might even know what had happened to The Cup of Life. Arthur appeared adamant that he wasn't about to sacrifice anyone else's life for his own, so that might be a dead end, even if the cup was found, but there might be other ways. For the present, he would continue to say nothing. There was no point in raising people's hopes for what was possibly a forlorn cause.

That's it for this week. What do you think? I'd love to listen to your ideas on my story, so please review.