Arthur was of the opinion that attempting suicide was less embarrassing than crying. Quite possibly that wasn't entirely true, but he felt it at the time. They had given up on dinner and Arthur was carefully settled on a sofa in the drawing room, close to the fire.

"Here." Uther offered him a glass of something, after a sniff and a sip Arthur identified it as brandy. The rest of them had retreated and gone to bed. Arthur didn't think many of them would actually sleep. In Merlin and Gwaine's case they had something else to do.

For the moment Uther had the vigil with Arthur. Gwen had been first, after the frantic attack of tears, and then Merlin. But neither of them had drawn him into talking. He couldn't talk about it, about his mother. Neither of them had known her. Arthur glanced up and looked at his father. He had known her, he had loved her, and married her. Uther sat down, giving Arthur enough space to keep him settled and then put the picture that Arthur had bought down on the table.

"What was this about?"

Arthur shook his head. "I don't know, I just recognised it, or at least, it looks familiar. I have no idea why though."

"It could be any number of things, now your mind is opening to the possibility of your destiny, then revelations will happen. From the look of that background I would say it is the nearby lake. The area is remote. When I say nearby, there is a twenty mile walk to get to it."

"Is there an island with a castle on it?"

"No, at least there isn't now."

"You think there might have been once?"

Uther swirled the brandy around the glass he held, watching as it glittered in the fire light. "It may still be there, but not everyone can see it."

"Yet another of those magic things breaking through," Arthur said, swigging his drink. He put the glass down on the table. Without comment Uther leant forward and poured more into his glass, from the open bottle that sat on the table. Arthur watched as Uther poured a more than generous measure.

"Are you trying to get me drunk enough to pass out?"

"Will it work?" Uther asked. Arthur gave a snort of laughter.

"I've never had enough money to be able to get drunk, so I can't tell you." Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose with the heel of his hand. "I'm thinking the answer might be yes though."

"I doubt, however, it will do you much good to turn you into an alcoholic."

"This is such a mess," Arthur said. "Multiple car crashes look nicer than this, and that is saying something."

"Is it?"

Arthur brought his hands away from his fact, sitting forward and reaching for his glass.

"I saw one once. It was about five years ago, there was a huge pile up just on the roundabout as you pass the hotel. There were about eight cars caught up. I was walking down the road and saw the whole thing happen. As far as I could see there wasn't even a reason for it, one car just hit another and that all skidded into the road and it seemed like it wouldn't stop.

"I knew enough about first aid, and stuff. Some of it was so awful, I pulled out who I could, it was chaos, and I felt like I was helping, until I had to give my name and address. Some of the officers knew me and didn't seem to think that I had helped."

"Arthur, you did help, if you got some of them clear of the sight and helped them."

"They made them all go for blood tests, just in case, they said it was procedure, but it was because I touched them as well."

"That is their problem not yours."

"You're being very pragmatic all of a sudden," Arthur said.

"And the definition of that word is?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean if you are going to use those words, at least make sure you understand them, use your mind; what you understand, you may have to explain, what do you think is the definition of pragmatic?"

"Sort of casual, letting things happen and dealing with those things, not making things into something they are not. Is that anywhere close?"

Uther smiled. "It means 'dealing with things sensibly and realistically in a way that is based on practical rather than theoretical considerations'. I had so many theoretical ways to deal with you, so many ideas of what you would be like for all the years I looked for you. You would never fit the ideal, I knew that, I thought there might be something, but you don't fit, I can't define you, and you don't let me push you into any pigeon hole."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I know I didn't like it. I didn't think I could ever deal with it, some of it I can't. That you let people use you, and I know you think you didn't have a choice, but you did what you had to. It stirs my stomach."

Arthur clenched his jaw, he knew what Uther though of him.

"But when you really think about it," Uther added. "What you are, really, is nothing short of magnificent."

"What?" Arthur asked.

Uther wasn't looking at him, his eyes were fixed on the drink in his hand. He wasn't talking to Arthur, not directly. He couldn't do that. But he could say what he wanted to say, in that theoretical way. Uther was talking to himself, he treated Arthur as if he was not in the room, but he still wanted to talk to him.

"Theoretically you're a mess; practically you are everything we need. Maybe your mother did everything she needed to."

"I think that might be the one and only compliment I am ever going to get from you. And I know the definition of 'backhanded' before you ask."

"Yes."

"And my definition of pragmatic was similar to yours," Arthur informed him and swallowed his drink.

"Yes, it was," Uther said topping up the glass. "We have to talk about your mother."

"Yes."

"If it's any consolation, I do not wish to do so either. I hold things of hers that are just mine, if I talk to you, I have to give them away."

"It's not that," Arthur said, his eyes watering. There was no point checking it. "I just don't understand any more. I saw what happened to her, I watched it. I remember that day, when I walked in from going to get an ice cream and I just wondered where my mother had gone. I didn't wonder after that, I just accepted the funeral and the home and my anger."

"I'm sorry, if I had known, if your mother had called for me, I would have come. I couldn't find you, and that appeared to be the way she wanted it."

"Why? I don't understand, why?"

"She must have thought you would be safer that way. Can I ask something?"

Arthur looked up and shrugged. "I guess."

"I think everyone noticed it, you called me dad."

Arthur shrugged again, giving a wry smile. "I think that's the pragmatic thing again. It's not going to change it is. You are my dad, what else am I supposed to call you?"

"Nothing, if you're happy with it."

"I don't know what I am. Within nothing more than a few days my entire life has been turned upside down, surely that would mean it made less sense, but everything seems to be coming together."

"Arthur, did your mother say anything to you. Even the faintest glimpse."

He shook his head. "Not a thing. I've spent these last few days racking my brain, and nothing. Did you use magic to conceive me?"

"Nothing else worked," Uther said. "So yes, and Sigan was entirely right, I would not be above ritual murder to protect your mother. A life should be given in return."

"You'd kill someone?"

"You tried to kill yourself," Uther stated flatly. "I could find someone, there are quite a few people in this world that deserve to die."

Arthur sat back on the couch, bringing his feet up onto the edge and he wrapped his arms around himself, hugging his legs close to his chest.

"Fair enough, but mum didn't give you a chance," Arthur said, hugging himself tighter.

"Are you all right talking about this?" Uther asked, looking his incredibly tense son up and down. Arthur shook his head.

"No, but we have to, and at least you know her and… would she really have done that to me, sending my soul into the void."

"No, because she didn't. She didn't give you any reason to think that she didn't love you."

"No."

"Well then. Maybe she just got frightened, and she convinced herself that was the only way. Once she had put it into motion maybe she thought she couldn't talk to me. It gets frightening sometimes, all these things happening around us. I'm not the easiest person to speak to, I'm aware of that."

"Good to know," Arthur observed. "So he was right, my soul is tainted."

"If the reports we have are anything to go by, Sigan was a nasty piece of work. From his point of view an innocent soul would be tainted."

"That's not what he meant. Is that why my life has been so shit?"

"You can go around blaming everything else for circumstances, but everyone has choices. Yours were very limited, I'm not denying that. I think it was a choice of bend or break."

"And which one happened? Because I don't know."

"You've survived this far Arthur, and you might not feel very intact but you certainly proved your mettle today."

Arthur turned to look at him, frowning. Uther saw the confusion and decided to clarify.

"They looked to you for an answer, and you gave them one. You were the one that dictated the attack plan, told them what to do and they did exactly as you wanted, but still went out of their way to protect you."

"I guess."

"You chose what to do, and every one of them followed your orders. They didn't even think about it, neither did you."

"I suppose, it just felt, right. I knew what I was doing, I know what I'm doing, most of the time I think I know, this time, everyone listened to me."

"Which is good, they trusted you, and you proved them right."

"Oh yeah, I was great during the get away."

"Okay, so you're not perfect, but none of them are going to forget that you are still vulnerable and new to what is happening. Most of them have killed before now, it changes your perception. You might have done it callously at the time, but it does affect you."

"Even Merlin?"

"Yes, Merlin's been forced to act on occasion. It's hard for him. Gwaine put him under careful watch for over a week, going up to two, I think for the first time. Merlin has been forced to make that decision. It didn't come lightly for him."

"Okay, so I did all right today, and I guess I'm coping all right but we're avoiding the subject."

"Not entirely. Your mother had an influence on what you are, even through your time on the streets she left you with an instinct to fight."

"You reckon?"

"She didn't take cancer lying down, she fought her way to the bitter end, and you don't think you have picked that up. You'll keep going whatever happens."

"Despite the suicide dive?"

"You called out, at the end, and Merlin picked it up. I'm sorry, that was my fault, I caused it, and I know that. Son, I don't want you to think that you have to resort to things like that."

"I know, I'm sorry and I'm embarrassed. Mum would be furious with me. She didn't approve of giving in, she said it was something that she had learnt. It was wrong to not even try."

"Did she?"

"Like she really meant it. When she died… it was…" Arthur paused and shrugged.

Uther waited a moment, just to see if Arthur would expand on it. Uther could see Arthur fighting. Over time the inclination to admit his feelings had gone and he couldn't be blamed for it.

"It felt like she had betrayed me. She put all that effort into it and still she left. I couldn't believe it, I almost still don't."

Arthur felt Uther brush his fingertips over his hair before retreating.

"Did she give you any hint of what might have really been happening? Or tell you anything that she really wanted you to remember?"

"No, nothing. I was just a kid whose mother was dying. She never said anything, the people at the hospital never said anything. Do you think I haven't gone over this, since you dragged me out here? I haven't stopped thinking about it. Although I don't want to think what I might have done to her."

"You didn't do anything."

Arthur snorted in irritation. "For me to even be here she had to put her life at risk. Did she know about the affects of the spell? She clearly knew enough, but did you tell her?"

"I phrased it very carefully."

"And either she worked it out for herself or someone told her. Sigan said a name, Nimueh?"

"A sorceress who helped with the ritual."

"Could we find her?" Arthur said, his stomach went cold as Uther's jaw tightened and he could answer the question himself. "She's dead, you killed her."

"Yes, which if nothing else made me believe that your mother would be safe. That the spell would not touch her."

"Maybe it didn't," Arthur said. "He mentioned about sending my soul into the void, presumably that had a price as well, which wasn't paid by me. I really don't think I want to be thinking about that. Could that be what the cancer was, could her own soul have gone into the void, and what the hell is the void anyway? It's not hell is it?"

"No, not in the whole Christian sense, returning a soul means death, as simple as that, especially for a soul that hadn't been born yet. Your life would simply have flickered out."

"But could it be that, like a punishment. It sounds like these people might want to get their hands on my soul, if I'm this Once And Future King."

"And if Igraine deflected the spell, then it could have latched onto her. I'm not denying that might be true."

"Could she have known?"

"She had a decent enough knowledge of magic, but I'm not sure. If her intention was to protect you, then it might be why she didn't tell me the truth, and hid herself instead."

"And Sigan said my soul was tainted," Arthur repeated. "Maybe they still thought that they could get me somehow. The more I learn, the less sense it makes. How are we supposed to make all this balance, and control magic. People want me dead, they want me alive, they want my soul in the void."

"You're the bridge," Uther suddenly said.

"And now I'm something people cross to get over rivers," Arthur mused causing Uther to smile.

"Sort of, maybe sending your soul to the void had nothing to do with trying to snuff out your life."

"I sound like a candle now."

"Stop being so facetious," Uther ordered him, smiling as he did so. "But if magic needs to return from the void it was pushed into, then maybe it doesn't matter which side you are on. It's an inevitability that magic is returning, it is probably down to who controls the magic within you."

"In the void it would be something else, here it's you."

Uther shrugged. "More likely you, and even more likely, Merlin."

"And if neither side had any control over me, what would happen then. My mother hid me for a reason, did she think she could stop it from happening. And how are the serkets and things appearing then, and Merlin still has magic, Morgana has as well. I suppose you sort of imagine a void to be a nice long distance away."

"And you think it isn't?"

"If you're a void, where would you be? Maybe it's here, right here. Not exactly in his room but trapped here, in this dimension, or whatever you want to call it."

"The small pockets of power have always been there, but you're right, there could be an entire layer to this world that no one can see, just underneath what is truly visible."

"If they are rubbing together they are bound to wear thin in places. My socks are always doing that," Arthur said. "So we need to find a place where it's worn through."

Uther leant forward and picked up the picture, looking at the castle shrouded in mist, and the lake that surrounded it.

"I'm not inclined to believe in co-incidences, but it's interesting that this appeared just before the gargoyles attacked."

"Grotesques," Arthur corrected automatically. "Someone, something, left the hint, they want us there. The only question is who."

"Nothing is clear, you could reason that the attack happened to prevent you from paying too much attention to it, or on the flip side maybe they were trying to draw your attention."

Arthur chewed his lower lip, reaching out to take the picture, looking at it, trying to remember what he was thinking, and feeling, when he had seen it. Why had he thought to look through the rack of pictures in the first place?

"Maybe it wasn't anything. That Sigan guy set that up over a century ago. If we look hard enough, we can probably find him in all the old literature. And I said as I stood outside that building it was like they were staring. They were staring at me. If you think about it, they knew I was coming. Someone else could have used that. I might never have found it but…" Arthur tailed off, looking at the picture, wondering what could possibly make it important. Uther shrugged.

"In which case, I guess we are hiking tomorrow."