Arthur had received a text early on Tuesday morning from Morgana to try out a Greek restaurant near her office. He had jumped at this offer, considering the alternative had been having lunch at Merlin's choice of a newly-opened organic restaurant. Lunch with Morgana would be as painful as having a meal at an organic restaurant, but at least he would get to eat meat. Merlin had protested to Arthur, using very strong words that belied his innocent looks, but once they picked up Morgana, he was all sweetness and charm. Lance was in Cardiff for the day, photographing the English rugby team before they depart to South Africa for a series of matches. And his absence has allowed Morgana to talk about her sort-of date with him on Friday. She did not talk much about it, because apparently nothing much can happen when two sane people are just having a normal dinner.

Merlin had excused himself to the dessert buffet; he claimed that since he was an adult, he could damn well eat his pudding before the main course. Morgana and Arthur did not stop him, they sighed, but kept their opinions to themselves; although Morgana did complain the unfairness of the fact that Merlin eats all kinds of junk and remains trim the way he is. Merlin claimed he was slim and fit because he was good-looking.

"That doesn't make any sense," Morgana told him, but Merlin had left the table. Arthur put a hand on her arm, shaking his head.

"It doesn't have to make sense, Morgana," Arthur pointed out. "You forget it's Merlin we're dealing with here."

She had smiled. As the waiter placed their orders on the table, she opened the topic of the Harvest Festival at Tintagel. Arthur perked up immediately. Harvest at Tintagel, his maternal ancestors' home, was an event he had never missed in his life. It was a four-day weekend away from the city, away from intrusive technologies masquerading as basic needs and away from the cut-throat corporate world. It was where Arthur could relax, play in the dirt and indulge in all the privileges brought on by his aristocratic birthright. He had always enjoyed the Festival and when he became friends with Lance and Merlin, it eventually became a ritual for them. The final weekend of October at Tintagel was a prelude to the holiday season. In the early days of Uther's marriage to Morgana's mother, Arthur had hated the intrusive newcomers in what he deemed as an exclusive place devoted to the memory of his mother. But when Morgana's mother had passed away before her third wedding anniversary to Uther, Arthur had brought the then twelve year old Morgana to Tintagel on the hopes of cheering her up. She soundly beat him in a horse race, croquet and fencing. He regretted his actions, but Morgana had developed an affinity for Tintagel. Arthur might never admit it, even if he was tortured, but he knew he had more fun in Tintagel with Morgana around. He just did not want her to know that.

"We're leaving Thursday evening, Morgana," he had told her. "You started packing last month, I assume?"

Morgana narrowed her eyes and glared at him, which he ignored as he ate his food.

"I was thinking..."Morgana said and immediately regretted it when Arthur looked at her.

"Don't hurt yourself," Arthur said quietly. He could not help himself. When Morgana made a remark like this, it was an invitation for him; he just had to say something, even when she gestured threateningly with her fork.

"Idiot," she told him off, the only word of the countless in her mind that was polite enough for the public. Arthur grinned, knowing that in this match, he had scored first. "Anyway, as I thinking of Tintagel and I think..."

"Are you sure you're all right?" Arthur interrupted Morgana. "You have done quite a bit of thinking there; and it does not involve clothes or make-up. How are you..." This time, Arthur had the sense to shut up voluntarily because he saw her hand going for her tall glass of mint tea and he did not want to risk his pants. He gestured her to continue and mentally willed himself to stop teasing her.

"You should invite Guinevere," Morgana finally dropped her bomb.

Arthur wondered if Morgana had lost mind. "You have lost your mind," he told her his exact thoughts, shaking his head. Morgana looked up from her souvlakia, rolling her eyes. She put her fork down and picked up her mint tea. Not for the first time since she sat down from lunch with Arthur and Merlin did she think she should have ordered something stronger to drink.

"She is a friend," Morgana said, sipping her tea.

"Correction. She is a friend of our friend," Arthur told her, just as Merlin came back to their table, carrying a plate in each hand, loaded with as much dessert for half the patrons in the restaurant.

"Guinevere?"" Merlin hazarded a guess, taking a seat at the table. He picked up his forked and began on a pastry completely covered in frosting and raspberries. Just looking at it made Arthur's teeth hurt. When the two Pendragons nodded, his nonchalant reply was, "She is definitely a friend."

"I can't invite her to Tintagel,' Arthur said. Only his sheer will kept him from throwing his hands up in despair.

"Why not?" Morgana and Merlin asked at the same time. Arthur narrowed his eyes and looked at them both, wondering if they were in this mad plan together. Morgana and Merlin equalled unparalleled insanity and Arthur had been through enough with the two of them to know the telltale signs of an impending disaster.

"First, it's been ages since anyone of us brought a woman to Tintagel," Arthur said, ticking off the reasons with his finger.

"Arthur, it does not count that your History professor visited you at Tintagel," Merlin said, swallowing his pastry with a relish. "She came to research her thesis and stayed at the bed and breakfast three miles from the village. That is hardly what you call bringing a woman home."

Arthur ignored Merlin. He continued on with the most important reason of all. "She is Lance's girlfriend. I can't invite her. Lance would be furious."

"Lance would be furious if you put a pink 'Hello Kitty' sticker on his helmet, but you still did it anyway," Merlin said, moving on to his next pastry.

Arthur groaned, putting down his fork. "What is wrong with the both of you?" he asked them, looking from Morgana to Merlin and at Morgana back again. "You really want to spend your weekend in the company of Lance and his new girlfriend?"

"It would be better than to be at Tintagel and wonder what he was up to, should he skip the Festival this year," Merlin answered for Morgana.

"Lance would never miss the Festival," Arthur countered back.

"Then, it would be a great way for us to get to Guinevere and for her to get to know us," Morgana replied, not looking at Arthur. She was pushing the food around her plate.

"Merlin, I can't believe you are actually supporting this idiotic plan of hers," Arthur said, frowning at Merlin. Merlin was the only other person in the world who knew Morgana's secret. Not because she told him. He pretty much guessed it a few years back, but had assured her that his secret was safe with him. "The weekend in Tintagel is supposed to be about having fun and relaxation..."

"Lance likes Guinevere and perhaps if she was there, he would be happier," Morgana said quietly, shrugging nonchalantly. She pushed away her plate and looked at Arthur and Merlin.

"Morgana the martyr," Arthur said, shaking his head. "It doesn't you, if I may so myself."

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to see the one you love happy," Morgana replied with a smile.

Love cannot be that blind, Arthur thought, wondering how happy Morgana would be if she sees Guinevere leaving Lance's room. That thought made him slightly seethe, but dismissed it as empathy towards Morgana's plight.

Merlin finally decided to intervene. "Morgana's a big girl, Arthur. She can handle it," he said. "She has for nine..."

"Eleven," Morgana corrected him.

"Eleven years," Merlin did not stop in his stride. Then, turning to Morgana in amazement. "Eleven years? Has it been that long?"

"It doesn't seem that long to me," she said. Then, with a smile, she put her hand on Arthur's and Merlin's on the table. "Thank you for Thursday night."

Arthur and Merlin immediately started protesting.

"I really needed to paint," Merlin told her, earnestly.

"I would choose my football club anytime over small-servings of French food," Arthur remarked.

"But I have to admit, Arthur, that was pretty quick thinking you pulled that day," Merlin said. "Very subtle and natural."

"You have my plasma TV to thank for that," Arthur replied. "But, alas, our effort has been to no avail. Here's Morgana, still alone."

Morgana smiled. She picked up her glass of mint tea and regarded Merlin and Arthur. "I had a great time on Thursday. And I am not alone."

The guys smiled and touched their own glasses to Morgana's. Arthur may appear to loathe the company of his stepsister, but that did not mean he did not care for her. He cared deeply; he just did not like to show it. He knew Merlin felt the same way too. But it was just so sad, sitting here and toasting for a date that did not have any positive outcome for Morgana. And to salt to injury, Guinevere was in the picture now. If Lance had been anyone but his best friend, he would have risked Morgana's wrath and fixed them up a long time ago. As it was, he was stuck between a best friend and a stepsister. There was just no way he could interfere in their lives.

"So, Arthur, we are inviting Guinevere to Tintagel." It was not a question from Morgana. She stated a fact. Arthur knew better than to argue with Morgana when she had made her mind. And with Merlin on her side, he knew they would make his life miserable if he refused to comply with their suggestion, no matter how idiotic it seemed.

Morgana insisted on paying for lunch and then left, reminding Merlin that she would be come over the next morning to pick him up for their trip to Bath. Merlin and Arthur watched her cross the road and enter the newspaper office where she worked at before turning to the parking lot.

"You are going to invite Guinevere, aren't you?" Merlin asked, as they walked towards Arthur's Jaguar.

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said, a little forcefully. "But I have to run it by Lance first."

"Morgana will be fine," Merlin assured him, as they approached the car.

"I know that," Arthur said, unlocking his car.

"And I think you will be fine too," Merlin said, looking at Arthur from the other side of the car. Merlin's expression was impassive, but Arthur knew that was only a front. Merlin can quite perceptive about people.

"What?" Arthur was truly confused.

"Your reluctance in inviting Guinevere," Merlin replied, as he got into the passenger seat. Once inside, he continued, "It seemed to me that your concern involves more than Morgana's well-being."

"What are trying to say, Merlin?" Arthur decided that feigning ignorance would be the best way to halt the direction this conversation was heading.

It seemed to work. Merlin seemed unsure of what to say. Apparently, what he thought he had figured out was now at odds with what actually was going on. "Well, it just appeared to me that you were reluctant to invite Guinevere because...well, because you were attracted to her."

When it was finally spoken, Arthur felt as if he had been accused of a heinous crime. The thought of it had, quite frankly, frightened him and when he heard Merlin, he wondered if it was true. Was he really fighting an attraction to her? It did not seem that way to him. He also knew the more time he spent thinking about it would only make it true.

When it obviously was not.

"That is ridiculous, Merlin," he said, as he gunned his engine. He put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot, headed for their flat to drop off Merlin. They did not discuss Guinevere anymore; the Harvest Festival being the central topic they talked about.

Twenty-minutes later, as Merlin stood on the pavement outside their flat and watched Arthur driving away; he decided that Guinevere was going to be a sensitive topic for Arthur. While he had accused Merlin's observation of him being attracted to Guinevere as ridiculous, never once did Arthur say anything to deny it.

And Arthur had actually blushed when Merlin told him what he thought.

This weekend had all the ingredients and intrigue to be one of the best weekends or the worst.

Merlin went inside his flat, wondering if he would survive the weekend ahead. But the thought of Arthur's well-stocked cellar at Tintagel cheered him considerably. Should things get out of hand, Merlin could just lock himself up in the cellar and get smashed.

It was good to have an emergency plan.

"Hello? Who is this?" Lance's voice seemed wary on the other end of the line.

"It's me, Arthur," Arthur said, wondering if Lance had developed temporary blindness. Surely he would have seen his number on display.

"Oh, God. I'm sorry, mate. I didn't catch your number," Lance sounded relieved. "I am going to kill Merlin when I get back."

"There's a waiting list for that. What did he do to you today?" Arthur turned away from his worktable and faced the window in his office. The sun struggled with the rain clouds and it looked like another wet afternoon in London.

"He changed your name in phone entry as 'The love of my life' and the Braveheart ringtone to 'Eternal Flame'," Lance said.

"What?"

"Yes. That is just wrong. Those Braveheart ring tones are hard to come by," Lance said, laughter in his voice.

"It quite disturbing that you would feel that way about the ringtone but not the name," Arthur said, shaking his head. Then, wanting to get straight to the point, "Busy, mate?"

"Just finishing up," Lance told him. "Should be leaving for London in an hour or so. What is it, Arthur?"

"Well, Morgana and Merlin…"

"Never a good thing when those two names are mentioned together," Lance pointed out. He was thinking of last year's Oktoberfest, when he and Arthur and Merlin had woken up at the back of a poultry truck a hundred miles from their hotel in Munich. It was a challenge none of them remembers, involving copious amounts of excellent German beer and a farmhand from Bavaria.

"I agree," Arthur replied. "They suggested that we…you should invite Guinevere to Tintagel for the Harvest Festival."

There was a momentary silence on Lance's side of the line. Arthur leaned forward in his chair, waiting for Lance's answer, wondering why he should be concerned if Lance thought it was a bad idea, when he thinks it is a bad idea himself.

"That is not a bad idea," was the response from Lance.

"What?" Arthur had been expecting and preparing for a non-affirmative reply.

"She did say we seemed like a lot of fun," Lance said.

"Who are you and what did you do to my friend?" Arthur asked, surprised that Lance would be so…agreeable to the idea. "Three days ago, you were dead set against introducing her to us and now you don't mind her spending a weekend in our company?"

"Well, now that she's meet all of you and there is mutual liking, I don't see why not," Lance replied. "It will give us a chance for her to get to know us better."

"So, you are fine with inviting her for the weekend?" Arthur had to confirm what he had heard.

"Of course. But I think you should invite her, mate. You are the host," Lance suggested.

"I…" Arthur was at loss as to what to say. More complications for the man who now wished he had eaten a sandwich in his office.

"It will be more meaningful if you did," Lance told him. "Then I can convince her to come."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. I've got to thank Merlin for coming up with this idea," Lance said. "After I kill him, of course."

"It was Morgana's idea too," Arthur was inclined to point out.

This, apparently, went straight over Lance's head. "Yeah, her too. I'll text you Gwen's number."

"Gwen?"

"Guinevere's a little too long. Gwen is short and sweet. Why am I telling you all this?"

"I have no idea and I didn't hear a word you say," Arthur told him.

Lance laughed and rang off. Moments later, Arthur received a text from Lance. Guinevere's number. He looked at the number and thought of the consequences of what he was about to do. It was Merlin and Morgana's idea, agreed upon by Lance, who was generally thought to be the most level-headed of them all. It is not that Arthur does not want Guinevere at Tintagel. They have never socialized with any of Lance's girlfriend before and now they are inviting Guinevere for a weekend.

What if Morgana sees Lance leaving Guinevere's room?

Wouldn't that break her heart?

And what if he has to choose a side?

Arthur stood up from his seat and went to his window, his favourite thinking spot. He was worrying too much…as he was prone to do when it concerns the welfare of someone he cares for. As all those thoughts swirled in his head, a picture of all of them emerged from the chaos. The possibility that everything might just go well. And Morgana probably has thought about what she was suggesting before she spoke it aloud, so she would know what to do and how to behave. She had seen Lance's other girlfriends before and has emerged none the worse, so she might survive this.

There was absolutely nothing to worry about.

Arthur punched in Guinevere's number for the sake of doing something constructive besides worrying about things that might not happen. He kept his gaze out his window, as he waited for Guinevere to pick up.

"Hi…"

"Guinevere!"

"Guinevere here. Leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

Wonderful, Arthur thought. Now he has to talk by himself.

"Guinevere, this is Arthur. Lance's friend Arthur? We met at the Hall? Well, we met at my flat…What? Okay…um…I know it's a bit too late. But the whole lot of us, Merlin, Morgana, Lance and I and an assortment of luggage will be going down to Tintagel for the Harvest Festival in mother's village…"

There was a loud shrieking beep that signalled Arthur's time limit. Arthur groaned. Now, he has to do it all over again. He pressed the 'Redial' button on his mobile phone and waited.

"Hi. Guinevere here. Leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Arthur here again. I'll keep it simple. Tintagel. Thursday evening. Harvest Festival weekend. It would be lovely if you could come with us. A right aristocratic weekend with formal dinners and a ball…"

Another shriek halted his speech midway again and Arthur would have thrown his mobile phone across the room, but he knew his mobile is blameless in this. But if he ever got hold of her mobile phone; suffice to say, he would only be happy to see it in pieces. Sighing, he rang her again.

"Hi…"

"Yes, yes, get on with it," Arthur told the pre-recorded message.

"Who is this?"

That was no electronic message. That was the voice of a very irritated young woman.

"Guinevere?" He could barely conceal his surprise.

"Who is this?" she asked again.

"Arthur Pendragon," he replied.

"Hello, Arthur." The iciness in her tone dissipated and she sounded friendlier now. "What's going on?"

"Your mobile hates me," Arthur told her.

"It hates me too," she said, chuckling. "Never leaves me

"I left two messages…"

"I just returned from a meeting," she explained.

"And I was inviting you to Tintagel for the Harvest Festival this weekend. We, as in Merlin, Morgana and Lance, would like you to join us. We leave on Thursday evening."

There was a hesitant silence from her end of the line, which strangely enough, made Arthur rather anxious. He knew at that precise moment that he would miserable if she declined the invitation.

Because there was a nice of picture in his mind, of him and Guinevere walking around his estate; a nice photogenic picture with a great scenery. It was a picture with just the two of them.

"It will be a lot of fun," Arthur said. "There would be formal dinners, a ball, and a village fair...it may sound a little boring, but it's…"

"Great fun?" Guinevere guessed, laughing.

"Yes," Arthur could not help smiling. "The more the merrier, I say."

"Then, I'd love to," Guinevere replied.

Arthur was stunned for a moment; he seemed to be surprised at every turn in his interaction with people today. "Wonderful," he finally. "It'll be great."

"You don't mind?" she asked, just a hint of apprehension in her voice.

"There's plenty of room at Tintagel. And a female companion for Morgana means less of an irritation for us guys," Arthur said. He was grinning like idiot and he was sure it was apparent from the gleeful tone in his voice.

Guinevere seemed not to have heard him for there was a sound of someone speaking in her background. "Thank you, Arthur," she spoke to him again. "I am sorry, but they need me in the next office…"

"Of course, go ahead," Arthur assured her. "Lance will get back to you with details of the trip. "

"Thank you again, Arthur."

"The pleasure is mine," Arthur replied. "See you soon, Guinevere."

She echoed the sentiment and rang off. Arthur spent the next five minutes looking out the window, his mobile phone in his hand and smiling for no other reason other than Guinevere accepting his invitation. All his previous concern dissipated, leaving him looking forward for the weekend ahead.