Ugh! Work sucks right now and I'd been staring at my word document trying to will myself to write and it just wasn't coming. Until one day...it did. And I started writing...in a very different direction I had originally intended. Weird. I'm not complaining; I think it'd be a more natural turn of events than some of the ideas I was tossing about. And the inspiration came from reading the lovely reviews I get for my stories! Thank you everyone for your reviews! I am always worried whenever I post my work that it isn't going to be liked. And while I would hardly call my fanfiction masterpieces, it is nonetheless, a point of joy for me to see those who enjoy the stories.

I'd someday love to write my own novel. Someday. Maybe. And to do that I definitely need to improve. So, of course, constructive criticism is appreciated. (Aside from grammar anyhow. I do my best here, but I dont have a peer reviewer available, so...yea. There is that.)

Thank you! And now for what you are really here for!

Ch. 3-

Alistair was quick to stand at the news, as was Arthur, to follow the man from the round table. For his part, the man did well to remain professional aside from the curious glances he sent her way. Anne wasn't really sure why.

"Um, should we...?"

"Nah, they'll handle all that." Reilly shrugged. "Now, what magic do you do?"

"I wouldn't really call it magic. Rather, we call it science..." Anne trailed off.

"Such as your...forgive me if I mispronounce, auto-mobile-machines." Rhys spoke next.

"Yes and No. More like certain minerals and elements and such can be used to...as fuel anyway...well, make other things or change things into something else? I...I'm not sure if that made sense."

"No, no, I understand completely," he nodded, "You're an alchemist. That's wonderful!"

"Uh, not...not quite..." she began but Reilly spoke over her.

"Oh! Very unique!" he practically gushed, "You must be very educated!"

"Well, yes, but...I wouldn't consider myself an expert in sciences by any means." Anne tried to backtrack. It sounded like they weren't talking about the same thing.

"Ah, well, you're still a young lass. You've plenty of time to master your craft." Reilly gave her shoulder a hard pat which Anne braced for. "Learning one's craft takes a lifetime...and then some. "he nodded sagely. "For now, we will show you around."

Arthur paced across the tower overlooking the forest. A scouting party had been dispatched to capture any intruders, but he lacked the patience to wait. He knew it. Alistair was leading them. Arthur wanted to, but he was King now. With the war over, his chances of rushing into battle was significantly lessened. He understood why, but there was an itch under his skin. An itch for battle; for blood. He'd told himself the endless bloody days would lead to the peace they all desired.

But blood had always been ever constant. To him, at the very least. It seemed their isles had always been at war. If not with each other, then with invaders. Their poor mother. Arthur had believed his very birth was brought because of war. And though his mother loved him and he her; his birth signaled new blood; new culture. It signaled change; his brothers changing with it. And it signaled her death.

Arthur clutched a pendant he'd never taken off. A talisman his mother had crafted especially for him. To protect him. Was his mother just as surprised that she'd sired new nations? Was he dead in the future then; since his alleged child was grown? Was that the doom of siring a nation? In the dawn of a new kingdom, the old king dies.

Morgana had told him his fortune once. A great usurper would come, to cast him down. He was the once and future king. Did that mean he would live on only as a legend; a memory? Did cast down translate to death? Would she become the new kingdom? It is essentially what had happened to their mother. She had not been upset by it. Assured them that this was how life went; just as it happened with humans and their family lines. They were nations, but not fully immortal. They could die. And die some had with the shifting of the ages.

Good heavens...were they all dead in the future? Is that what started her whole ordeal? She was left unprotected...

Arthur sighed heavily. Thinking about this, with no available information, as the future was forbidden, would not give him any answers. There would be no peace until time righted itself. They could only hope it did so without taking catastrophic measures. It didn't matter whether she was his child or not. She was still blood; she is a Kirkland. It was as his brother said; they protect family. It was one thing to fight each other for their piece of the world. If something else, something outside them attacked, they fought it together. It is what family does.

And with that resolution, Arthur descended to speak with the guards to call for him when Alistair returned. For now, Arthur would take some measure into his own hands. Surely, the scrolls and tomes could offer some manner of spell to aid them; aid her. And if not...well...both courts owed him favors.

In the Present:

Rhys hated dealing with government officials as it was, but this was uncalled for. American officials, through Canadian officials, through Matthieu and finally to his own officials seemed determined to badger him with questions. First, they said, they can't get a hold of the American personification, and now Arthur was down, and they received a report that Reilly had been hospitalized. Rhys didn't think his mobile phone has ever rung so much. And now...and now, Rhys cringed at the snarky drawl on the line.

The Welshman was sure he would attack whomever gave his number to Texas.

Currently the cowboy nation was on an angry tirade about his America currently being held hostage. His America; Rhys was sure Arthur would have a thing or two to say about that. Either way, damage control was needed and it was, apparently, his job to do so. He held back a sigh at the strange idioms the other nation was tossing about and cringing at his sometimes out-of-context use of words. American's turn-of-phrase was strange sometimes. Not that he couldn't say the same about the slang within his own people, but that was neither here nor there. He was developing a wicked migraine and reserved the personal right of having a complete lack of patience with another nation's quirks. Not the most diplomatic behavior to be sure, however, Rhys found he couldn't bring himself to care about the boy's feelings. But the moment Alistair stumbled into the room he was in, looking harried and grim, Rhys decided the conversation was over.

"If you think dealing with Washington is bad, let me tell you the wrath of Texas will make you wish—" And Rhys hung up the phone. He sent a quick text to Mattie to call Texas and keep him off their backs and promise to make it up to him before following his younger sibling out the door.

"Alis, what is it?" he asked after the redhead's retreating back.

"Albion took off."

"He's awake?!"

"Yea...no? I don't know. He wasn't really responsive. I told him to stay put and...I swear, I turned my back for a second and he was already out of the room." Alistair ran his hands roughly through his hair, muttering about how he-didn't-sign-up-for-this-shit.

Sure enough, Arthur was gone and they didn't know which direction he went, but Rhys had an inkling. There would be only one place Arthur would go; back to the stone circle. After rousing a cranky Eire, they piled into the car and hoped to find their youngest sibling at the ancient stones or on the way.

In the past:

Reilly had glanced up from his book that seemed determined to put him to sleep, to see Arthur stride in. Arthur noted him, surprised to see his Irish brother perched in a chair, and then heard their guest laugh from around a tall bookshelf further away. Reilly turned to smirk in the general direction and simply mumbled, he's just happy he can tell his jokes again because she's never heard them before. Arthur couldn't help but agree. Humor was not his eldest brother's strongest suit. Approaching, he found Anne perched on the sill of one of the many stone windows, oversized tome in her lap, and his brother atop a ladder with stack of others in one arm, as he peered down to speak to her.

Anne noticed him first; smiled and a gave a small wave which he awkwardly returned, unsure if such a greeting was even appropriate. Rhys turned to face him.

"Ah, brother, glad you have come. Come and give me a hand." he nodded to the books and Arthur wanted to quip that, younger sibling or not, he was still a king. One doesn't order a king about. But it was not appropriate to argue before a lady. Damn etiquette rules. Give him but a chance to punch etiquette in the face... So, he helped grab the stack of books with a glare that his elder brother, of course, blithely ignored. "We're searching the texts for guidance on the nature of time," Rhys stacked all the heavy books in his arms and brushed past him. Leave me to do all the lifting, you bastard. Were he a lesser man, he'd simply drop the books for his brother to gather on his own, but no.

And Anne had appeared to gather from his stack and aid in carrying them after the Welshman. He nodded his thanks for the gesture and they paced with each other.

"I didn't think travel back in time would've ever been possible before experiencing it myself. I've always understood it to be impossible because of the effects that could happen." Anne thought back to one her times at university; remembering one of her classes that had spent a week arguing the possibility of time travel. It had been deemed outside the laws known to man; impossible until proven otherwise.

"It is most certainly possible...obviously." Rhys added as an afterthought. "The dangers and the risks are why, even to those who are aware of its possibility, calling it impossible would thus keep curious fools from trying. There would be those who know of its possibility in your time. I would imagine; however, they'd guard the secret with such a lie. Wise choice. Could you imagine what would happen to the cosmos if anyone could travel back; change things?"

"It would be biblical damage to be certain."

"Indeed. More than just the end of our world."

"And my presence alone wouldn't do such a thing?"

"So long as whatever future we learn we do not act upon. It is important that time remains as it should be." Anne swallowed that bitter pill with a grimace. It would be nice to change some things of the past if she could. Heaven knows she would understand the desire to travel back in time to fix past mistakes. And that there would be those who would risk the cosmos to do so. It was such a temptation. Still. She was a hero. Heroes accept and learn from their mistakes. They don't risk the universe because they wish to change their past screw-ups. Life wasn't like the video games.

And yet, she knew she would need to make that into a mantra of sorts. Because it would be so easy. So easy to just lay everything bare in the hopes of mending things. If her father knew what was to come, then maybe...maybe, things wouldn't be as bad as they were in her time. Because unlike her, he would know what to do. He always knew what to do. It was as comforting as it was infuriating.

Growing up he worked hard to keep her safe and to teach her things. And she learned, slowly no doubt, but she learned. And yet, she still wanted to experience life on her own. Early on. As she had before he had ever found her in the wilds. He hadn't budged and so she pulled harder. It was the basis for many of their arguments. He wanted her underwing to continue teaching as much to keep her safe. And she felt she should learn by experience, as she had done before, and that included suffering from her own mistakes. Because they'd have been her choices and she'd have no one to blame but herself. It was a difficult lesson she'd learned long before her time with him. And she'd accepted it. But Father wanted to keep her behind walls...doors, windows, observing from a distance where the bad things couldn't cross.

But in doing so, other kinds of bad things seeped in; stifling rage, resentment, and bitterness. Feeling what her colonists were feeling and being, as their own nation, unable to aid or even mitigate, was beyond frustrating. Anne had wondered if that was just her or was it a part of the nature of being a personified nation?

And even still, the temptation was there. To tell him. For him to change things, even if it meant sacrificing the future she'd known. For surely, there was a better one out there. Alas, the rule of time was as rigid as ever. If she changed things, everything would be torn apart. Damn time rules. Anne wanted a chance to punch time in the face.

Her uncle had chosen a wide table for them to set the books upon, immediately snatching a tome from her father's arms, nearly sending a few to the floor if not for her father's reflexes. Arthur scowled hard while Anne hid her smile by pretending to brush the imaginary dust of her dress.

"While you've certainly now experienced travel by way of portal, what other experience do you have?"

"That is all, I'm afraid. Like time travel, I didn't think it quite possible. Or I rather thought time travel impossible, but travelling through portals was possible, just not yet. For my science, I had working theories."

"Such as?" Rhys was very curious as to how her magic, or science, worked. From what he had gleaned, there were incredible things to behold in her future. One he sensed she was very much a herald of. But it was unfamiliar magic, to be certain. Whatever she called it. At the very least, it was an alchemy he had not been familiar with. While alchemy was not his forte, too risky in his opinion, there were too many things that could go wrong and explode, he could see she had talent for it. For his visions had shown her in the skies with birds and through the clouds. For her, this metal bird vessel, was much a source of joy as it was a weapon. Fascinating things, indeed.

Rhys gave an approving nod to Arthur who glanced curiously his way as Anne explained one of her theories. She was not wrong entirely; portals without magic didn't seem possible in Rhys' opinion, but...well...what did he know of the future? Glimpses could only explain so much. Still, for what little she claimed to know of magic, she had a very good understanding of the natural world around her. It had caused him to wonder, that while her magic differed from theirs, why they had not instructed her in their ways regardless; even if only that the knowledge was available for her use as theory rather than practicality. Strange that a member of their family be unfamiliar with their family rites. Rhys felt the itch to learn more.

Arthur's curiosity came elsewhere. What could be powerful enough to send her back in time? When Reilly had questioned her before, she had mentioned an accident by way of potions. Which did not entirely explain anything. Potions could create a power space, as ley lines were sometimes wont to do, but they did not open the door. Something else had to have been in place; an incantation, a spellcaster's rite, a...a curse.

Arthur glanced back her way.

Had there been a curse in play? That would've been...awfully convoluted. And it would've had to have happened in a very specific place, with the curse already laid, and...the potions activated without her notice or at least fast enough before she counter...no, she was not a spellcaster. Even so, she had the pendant. How could she be cursed? Did she always have the pendant? Or was it...she'd been surprised by its power. So, from her previous escapade through time? So many questions...

Familiar magic, it was. Layered upon layered. But enough to catch his intuition of terrible things. His mother had impressed upon him, the youngest son who may not have the heightened sight of Alba, the clairvoyance of Cymru or steadfast access of Eire, to listen to his intuition that outmatched his brothers. Arthur sense was the strongest of them all. And his brothers learned to listen to his feelings, particularly bad feelings of approaching danger.

And this...the feeling upon her descent in time, to their time...It had felt like him and something else. He had no doubt, and neither did Alba, the pendant she wore was the familiarity he felt. It was blood magic; their blood. It would protect any one of their kin. Arthur's hand found the pendant around his neck again; a nervous gesture while Anne and Rhys continued to discuss the science of portals. He glanced down, thumb running over their family crest; the round, flattened piece identical to the one she wore.

Did she realize whose blood had powered the talisman?

Could his mother's magic, her spirit, sense who she was?

And if the pendant was his familial magic...whose curse was entwinned with it? Who would dare? Arthur felt his rage flare.

"-thur?" Arthur snapped his attention to his eldest brother.

"Yes?"

"Welcome back," Rhys' tone may have been light, but his focus was hard upon his youngest brother. Arthur glared back, upping the shields on his mind. Rhys may be his brother, but that did not grant him limitless access to his mind. "Alistair has returned. Your presence is needed." Arthur nodded and excused himself.

Whomever dared to sully his magic with a curse would pay...Dare to curse his child...Arthur stopped short...His child. His child. His child. He resumed walking; resolve growing with each step.

Yes, he thought, his child.

Happy 4th everyone!