A/N – I know this chapter is really angsty and there's probably far too much dialogue, but oh well – here it is! I hope you like it as much as the previous chapters. Thank you so much for all the reviews; the feedback is really useful and it keeps me going!

Words: 2500

Warnings: None (unless you count a little angst)

CHAPTER 6

Arthur turned to Gwen, absolutely dumbfounded. Eventually, he managed to splutter, "We are?!"

A moment of silence in the room followed as Gwen looked at him, bemused. Then Arthur sighed, beaming. "We are!" he exclaimed, "We're having a child!"

He then, rather unexpectedly, reached out and embraced her in a passionate kiss. When they pulled apart, he saw Merlin and Morgana exchanging pleasantly bemused faces.

"Well!" Arthur announced, "This is... this is wonderful! We should bring out the best wine to celebrate!"

"Oh, Arthur, I couldn't," Igraine replied, standing up. "Tonight has been absolutely wonderful; I can't thank you enough. But it's late and I must retire or I fear I'll fall asleep right here!"

"Of course," Gwen said, taking Igraine's hand and kissing her cheek. "Have a good night my Lady."

Arthur smiled as he nodded to his mother, then turned. As his gaze shifted to the other side of the room his expression dropped and he felt his heart stop for a moment in his chest. The peasant boy, still blooded and bruised was standing there again, plain as day.

With his heart now pounding, Arthur stared, unable to move away his eyes and called, "Guards!"

"Arthur?" Morgana asked as he felt her touch his arm, but he wouldn't tear his gaze away. Not this time. "Arthur what's wrong?" she asked, stepping closer.

And then he was gone. Just like that – a guard stepped into the path of his vision and the boy disappeared.

"Arthur?" she asked again.

He turned to her, looking confused and scared.

Her brow furrowed with concern. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head slowly. "Nothing, it's er... it's nothing. I'm sorry." then he lifted his head to address the company that was now staring at him with some concern. "Forgive me, I must retire." he added. And with that he left.

It wasn't a delusion, he knew what he'd seen. There was something going on – something he couldn't explain, and he needed answers. Either he was going mad; which was a concept far too terrifying for him to accept, or there was something inexplicable, some form of sorcery going on here that was interrupting his perfect world. He should have known – nothing is perfect. Merlin had warned him – 'such things always come with a cost'. Only now he wasn't sure what exactly this had cost him, and the idea that someone might be suffering for the sake of his dream was one he couldn't bear.

He needed answers, and the only person he could think to go to was Gaius. He was the only one who would listen to him and not ridicule him for his fears or think him mad. Arthur had known him all his life and he'd always been there when anyone needed him.

So why now, of all times, could he not find him? When Arthur came to the old man's chambers, he found the main room void of any person, just as it had been when he'd come searching for Merlin. But now that he took more notice of it, he could tell something was different. The place looked odd, and though Arthur couldn't explain exactly what it was that he felt off-putting about the place, it was definitely not the same room he'd entered almost every week for a good many years.

The work-surface Gaius usually used was now littered with all kinds of instruments and old papers that looked completely unfamiliar to him. The bed he usually slept in was in an entirely different place in the room. Something was definitely off.

"Can I help you, your majesty?"

Taken by surprise, Arthur jumped at the sound, but he soon regained himself and turned to the direction the voice had come from. There in the doorway stood a tall, thin old man Arthur had no recollection of ever seeing before.

"Who are you?" he asked in return.

The old man chuckled nervously, then said, "Oh, sire! You always were quite the jester!" as he walked past Arthur and towards the work surface, where he began fiddling about with some sort of potion.

"No, really. Who are you?" Arthur asked again, "What are you doing here? Where's Gaius?"

"Gaius?" the old man stopped his work and looked up sadly. "My lord, Gaius hasn't lived here for seven years."

"Well where is he then?"

"Well, sire... he's dead."

Arthur's breath caught as the words hit him. "Dead?" then he smiled, unsure of what else to do, convinced this must be some sort of joke. "You can't be serious?"

"Oh my lord, I am!" he replied solemnly. "You know as well as I, he died many years ago, when he fell from that balcony!" The old man pointed up towards the railing above Arthur's head, where a large but now empty bookshelf stood.

Arthur began to shake his head again. This couldn't be happening. Gaius, dead?

"No, that's not possible."

"I'm sorry sire..." the old man attempted, but Arthur turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him. This couldn't be happening!

His head burning with questions, Arthur made his way down the steps, and as he picked up the pace and started to run, he tried to collect his frantic thoughts. He didn't stop running until he reached the outer wall of the palace, near the vaults. There, exposed to the cold night air and taking long, heavy breaths, he leaned back against the wall.

How could his mother's death have possibly affected Gaius life? He'd fallen from the balcony! Unable to put any of this together, Arthur eventually slid down the side of the wall and sat on the grass.

After sitting there for some time, trying to contemplate some sort of possible explanation, he let out a long sigh. Answers, it seemed, would have to wait until tomorrow. Perhaps Merlin could shed some light on the matter. He, after all, was closest to Gaius. Surely he'd know.

When he eventually returned to his chambers, some considerable time later, a worried wife was waiting for him.

"Arthur!" she exclaimed when he entered the room. "Where were you? We were all worried about you! I was worried about you."

As she wrapped her arms around his neck, Arthur held her hands tightly. "I know, I'm sorry." he mumbled. "I er, I just need to clear my head. You should go to bed, I'll join you in a few minutes."

Nodding slowly, Gwen eventually let him go. "Sir Leon left these papers," she said, gently touching the pile of parchment on the table beside them. Arthur nodded in reply and she kissed him on the cheek before heading towards the bed.

Arthur sighed heavily as he sat down at the table. His mind was still racing, searching for some kind of answer. What was he to do now? Whether he could wrap his head around it or not, the truth rang clear, still echoing in his ears - 'he died many years ago, when he fell from that balcony'.

Rubbing his eyes, he let out a long, deep breath. Then he slowly picked up the first piece of parchment on the pile and began reading through it. But as he came to the last few lines on the page, he noticed a discrepancy. Huffing, he read the previous paragraph again to check if it was a miscalculation. Only there he noticed another figure that was far off what he'd expect too. As his eyes began to scan the page quickly, more and more things jumped out to him; figures that couldn't be possible, names that were wrong – everything about these papers were incorrect!

Tossing it aside, Arthur picked up the next piece of paper and began reading through that. The further down the page he got, the more frantic he became, until he'd waded half-way through the pile of parchments and eventually had to come to a stop. This wasn't right. Nothing about this was right.

"Arthur? Where are you going?" Gwen called after him as he stood up, fumbling with the pages and headed toward the door.

"I'm just going to see Leon. There's some mistakes in these papers he wants me to sign, that's all."

He flashed an unconvincing smile.

"Can't it wait till morning?" she pleaded. But he was already gone.

When Arthur reached Leon's chambers, he was somewhat surprised to find him still awake, and proceeded inside without invitation.

"Sire!" Leon stood up straight away, looking surprised as the King marched in.

"Leon, there's something... wrong. These figures, they're... they can't be right!" he said plainly as he tossed the papers onto the table.

Sir Leon paused for a moment, then stumbled over his words. "My lord, they're... I've been over them twice! We agreed on all the figures in there last week, I checked them myself, Arthur!"

Instead of replying, Arthur reached over to the table and rummaged through the papers until he found the right one. "Look, here!" he said, picking up one piece of parchment and thrusting his finger at it almost desperately. "These taxes – they're twice as high as they should be! Taxes were never that harsh! And here, again," he added, motioning to another page, "This population figures and land ownership drafts, they're... they're all wrong!"

As Arthur went through the papers and pointed out each mistake, Sir Leon began to tense with concern, which showed on his face as he stared, glancing back and forth between Arthur and the parchments on the table.

"My lord, these are the figures we agreed on in last week's council meeting! Look, sire," he said, reaching over to another pile of parchments on the table and peeling one out from under the rest. "Your own signature, sire!" When Arthur just looked at him blankly, clearly shocked to see his own signature on the paper, Leon continued, "Arthur we need more money for our military if we're to protect our borders all the way to the river of Ayned!"

Arthur swallowed hard. "Leon, the river of Ayned lies in Annis' land!"

Sir Leon stopped, staring at Arthur for a moment as though trying to figure out if he was joking or not. "My lord..." he eventually managed. "Annis' land was entirely wiped out three years ago! You know that! When we took control, after defeating Meneth, the population influx from the survivors meant we had to raise taxes – to care for them all and her land."

"Meneth?" Arthur swallowed hard and closed his eyes for a moment, as though afraid to speak for fear of what reply would reach his ears. "The sorcerer? But we caught him! He was executed years ago!"

His eyes now darting back and forth as his thoughts became more frantic, Arthur excused himself and left. He marched down to the library, muttering to himself the entire way...

This couldn't be right! They'd caught that sorcerer years ago! He'd tried to pass, unnoticed through Camelot, but when approached by the red Knights, he'd attacked using his magic and was later executed for his crimes! It was hardly a particularly memorable affair. Still unable to believe or accept any of what he had heard, the dark realisation that if there were no laws against magic, this sorcerer could have passed unnoticed into someone else's land – into Annis' land – and wiped out an entire Kingdom, began to settle in.

Arthur felt sick. But as he rummaged noisily through the papers and numerous documents set before him in the dimly lit library, the truth was before him, inked into parchment after parchment. The proof was all there – for all the bad his father's ban on magic may have caused, clearly it had done some good. And everything that'd he'd prevented, everything good that he'd accomplished was gone. Gaius was dead. Annis was dead. Her entire Kingdom; tens of thousands of innocent citizens... all gone. Wiped out in the blink of an eye!

Arthur had never been an especially sentimental man, and he'd never had any special love for Annis – more of a respect from one monarch to another. But as Arthur read through the accounts from the attack, the stories the survivors had told, and the military's report, he found his vision blurred with tears.

The attack had been swift and completely unexpected. It was unprovoked and they never stood a chance, not against a sorcerer and his band of followers, who in only a few short days had completely desecrated Annis' entire Kingdom. It was with the help of Merlin, and the Dragon Order, that Meneth and his men were captured and brought to justice. But the damage was already done; they were too late. Annis and all her family were dead; there was no heir to take her place on the throne, leaving the country without anyone to govern them. The survivors from the city gave harrowing accounts of what happened; most of them had lost children or siblings or parents, and they were grateful to Camelot and Arthur's help. So, the reports told, Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table had agreed to take the remaining civilians under their protection and expand their border to the edge of Annis' former land...

Blinking rapidly to stop himself from crying, Arthur stood up, letting the paper fall to the ground as the information sank in. He could picture it – the battle between the sorcerers and the Knights. The words of the refugees still whirled around in his head; accounts of destruction, suffering and countless murders.

For a moment there was total silence. Even Geoffrey, the bookkeeper, had retired to bed quite some time ago. Everything was still and the King could even feel the blood rushing in his ears.

Then he cried out. He thrashed out, swinging his arm round and sent all the documents flying. They scattered and began to fall slowly to the ground, but before a single one settled, Arthur screamed again as he upturned the table, unable to contain his emotions any longer.

"It's not fair!" he screamed as he launched several frustrated blows at the nearby bookshelf, sending several old books to the ground. "It's not fair!"

As the clutter began to settle, Arthur paused, taking a few deep breaths. Then he collapsed against the wall as he slid down to the ground. He was reacting like a child and he knew he should have known better, but right now he didn't care. Why did it have to be like this? Could he stay here now, knowing this? Everything was so perfect! It was all he'd ever wanted – his perfect world! And it had been ruined!

If this was his wish – his stupidity in going in alone to find the Djinn, in letting down his guard, that had caused his mother to never die; if he'd created this world through his own selfish desires and the Djinn's magic, wasn't he too responsible for all of these people's lives? Gaius? Annis? Tens of thousands of innocent people, and their blood was on his hands.

Arthur left the library as the very first glimpse of sunlight began to peak over the treetops on the horizon. His head clouded with emotion and unable to form any coherent or sensible thoughts, he wondered, weary and broken-hearted back to his chambers...