WARNING/S: Some mentioned character death and greedy men

A/N: Yo, sorry for the late and short update. I promise I'll be working hard on the next chapters!

Chapter Summary/Excerpt: Arthur loves his father, he truly did. But his father has shitty timing when it came to telling his son important things—like the fact that he has a long lost sibling.

Disclaimer: Characters belong to BBC Merlin. The plot and dialogue are from Moulin Rouge (2001). The only things here that are truly mine the creative liberties I've taken. Made for fun, not for profit.

Enjoy~

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Chapter Two: The Duke's Promise

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"You have a sister," his father had confessed on his deathbed.

Arthur loved his father, he truly did. But his father had shitty timing when it came to telling his son important things—like the fact that he had a long lost sibling.

With wide blue eyes, Arthur numbly repeated, "I have a sister."

"Yes." His father confirmed that he hadn't misheard. "Her mother was your nursemaid when you were but a babe."

"You slept with my nursemaid?" Arthur inquired, voice rising with the incredulousness of it all.

He shouldn't be surprised, not really. His mother had died before Arthur even opened his eyes. It wasn't considered cheating in a technical sense. However, Arthur thought that his father had loved his mother too much to welcome another in his life.

"It was a moment of weakness," his father admitted, guilt tinting his words. "And it was only one time. But I am sure the child was mine."

"I have a sister," Arthur repeated before rubbing his mouth in agitation. "And you didn't think to inform me of this years ago?" Somewhere out there, another Pendragon was running about. Inexplicably, Arthur felt loss at not having to have met and known them.

"I didn't want to tell you about her at all," his father said with a flippant gesture. "She is my shame." His father's eyes glinted with regret as he met Arthur's eyes. "Was my shame. Now that I am close to death—"

Arthur inhaled sharply, the reminder still giving his chest a painful throb.

"—I have time to think about it. Arthur, I don't want to leave this world without making amends with her."

"Where is she?" Arthur asked, already making arrangements in his head. "I'll have people fetch her and—"

"I know not," his father cut off. "I know nothing of her fate nor her mother's."

"You—what?"

His father cannot seem to meet Arthur's eyes. "As soon as I found out that Vivienne was with child, I sent her away without anything. No money, no support, not anything."

From a moment, shock overcame Arthur. His father had . . .? Then, unbidden red-hot anger rose in his chest. His father was a good man in some areas but it seemed dealing with personal affairs wasn't one of them. He opened his mouth, prepared to rage against the injustice his father had wrought but the older man beat him to it.

"Whatever you plan to say, know that I have probably said it to myself a thousand times." His father steadily met Arthur's gaze. Arthur could see the regret and shame in his expression. "There's not a day that goes by that I do not regret my actions."

Just like that, Arthur deflated. His father had not much time left. There was no use reflecting upon the past when there can be something done in the future.

"How do you know it's a girl, then? The child, I mean."

His father attempted to rummage through the cabinets beside the bed. Before he could lean in and possibly strain his body further, Arthur quickly turned to help him.

"Second drawer," his father instructed.

Arthur pulled out a small enveloped, the paper crinkled at the corners and yellowed with age. His father gestured for him to read it and he complied.

"I received that missive months later. Just that. No other letters followed," his father said. "I had hoped that Vivienne had found a new happy life."

It's a girl. I named her Morgana. It means "from the sea", just like the color of her eyes. She's beautiful, Uther.

Vivienne

The corners of Arthur's lips quirked in fond amusement. Vivienne appeared to bear no ill will to his father even after what the man had done. Arthur placed the letter back into the envelope.

"You want to make amends to them." Arthur said after a moment of silence.

His father nodded. "I have rewritten my will. I give Morgana half of the estates."

"That's good," was Arthur's reply. It was proof that his father truly regretted deserting them; the man was always careful on where to put his money. "I'll make arrangements to find them."

"I had hoped to see them again before I go," his father gave Arthur a wan smile. "If ever you don't find them in time, tell them . . . I'm sorry. Tell them I ask for their forgiveness one last time."

Arthur swallowed, throat suddenly dry. He sat down beside his father, meeting the older man's gaze. He placed a comforting hand on his father's shoulder, hoping to convey his determination to see this through.

"I'll find them before . . . before. Don't worry, Father. You'll see them," he promised.

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He was forced to break his promise when his father died a few days after.

The Duke of Camelot was no more. Now, the title and the other half of the estate fell to Arthur.

"Hey, Duchess," a familiar irritating voice chirped.

Arthur opened his eyes just enough to give his bodyguard a death glare. "Leave me be, Gwaine," he snarled before bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips and finishing it in one gulp.

The alcohol burned its way through his throat, leaving a bitter aftertaste. It was his fourth shot and he was feeling a bit lightheaded. He slouched further in his study chair without any care for his crumpled suit. A hand relinquished the glass from his grip to place it on the study desk.

"Now, now, don't be like that," Gwaine Noble tutted. "You have guests," he said, hands smoothing the disheveled suit that Arthur was wearing.

Arthur batted the hands away. "Make them go away. I'm in no mood to deal with bootlickers," Arthur replied with a wave. "My father just died." He blinked back the tears that burned his eyes at the thought. He wasn't going to cry, especially not in front of Gwaine.

"It's alright, Arthur," another familiar voice spoke up from the doorway. "It's just us."

Arthur whipped his head towards the voice's source. Two men in a suit entered the room, one with a lean figure and short curly dark hair and the other with a bulky form and semi-bald head.

"Lance! Perceival!" He attempted to get to his feet but his shaky legs threatened to buckle under him.

"Sit down, Arthur." Lancelot DuLac said with an exasperated sigh, coming closer to Arthur. The man's own bodyguard, Perceival Gademid, was only half a step behind him. "We received your missive and came as soon as we can."

"Yes, yes." Arthur gestured for the two of them to sit down on the cushioned ornate chairs on the other side of the desk. "You too, Gwaine."

"Are you finally going to explain all the detectives and private investigators you've been hiring?" Gwaine piped up as he unceremoniously sat down on the remaining chair.

"Yes," Arthur replied. "Whatever we discuss here shall not go out of this room, you hear me?"

Arthur had known these three men since they were children. In the eyes of his father's upper class and snooty friends, Lancelot, a fellow nobleman, was his best friend. However, Arthur was much closer to Gwaine just as Lancelot was partial to Perceival. The two bodyguards may not be of noble blood but Arthur considered them inside his close circle of friends. All in all, these three men were the three people he trusted the most.

Their expressions turned serious at Arthur's words.

"Is there a scandal involving your father?" Perceival asked in a whisper.

"Perhaps. It depends on how view it," Arthur replied. Then, he blurted out, "I have a sister."

Gwaine's brows lifted. "Arthur, I would have noticed if there was a female Pendragon scampering here."

"Half-sister," Arthur amended, casting an irritated glance at Gwaine. "Her name's Morgana, almost a year younger than me, I suppose. My father sent her mother away when she was still in the womb."

"Oh," was the resounding response.

Arthur ran a hand through his flaxen locks, mussing it up further. "Before my father died, he told me to find them and give Morgana half of the estates. I—"

"Half of the estates?" Lance repeated in surprise.

"Wow, that's—Wow," Gwaine rubbed his mouth, unable to say anything else.

"Do you think that's wise?" was Perceival's question. "She may not know anything about running the workings of the land."

Arhur rolled his eyes. "I'm not just going to leave her the lands to fend for herself. If she doesn't know anything, I'll teach her myself."

"Noble brother to the rescue, eh?" Gwaine smirked. Then, in a mock conspiratorial whisper, "Or are you just pretending to be nice so you can swoop in and take the estates yourself?"

"As you know, Gwaine, I don't need the money," Arthur replied with an unimpressed look. And it was true. He had started his own business a couple of years ago and it was blooming like flowers in spring. He never needed his father's money. "Besides, that plan would not only make me a horrible brother but also a horrible son."

"And we all know you aren't those," Lance said with a smile. Really, from anyone else, Arthur would have thought the man was being sarcastic. As it was, Lance was most probably being sincere.

Gwaine snorted. "No need to boost the Duchess' ego."

Arthur rolled his eyes and decided to continue. "Anyway, I've sent detective looking for her. All they managed to find out so far was that her mother, Vivienne Williams, had passed away almost 15 years ago. With no other relative to claim her, Morgana was lost in the system after that."

The men gave a moment of contemplative silence at the girl's fate.

Arthur rubbed his face in frustration. "The investigators are trying hard to find even a last name."

"Why do you want to keep her a secret?" Lance asked, curious. "I understand trying to protect your father's reputation—"

"It's not about that," Arthur cut off with a growl. Then, he blew out a sigh. "The other noblemen were anxious when they found out that I only inherited half of my father's lands. You should have seen their expressions." Arthur tried and failed to will away the greedy look on the men's eyes as they thought. "I think they already suspected that there's another child involved."

"You want to protect her," Perceival stated with proud smile.

"Well, as much as I can. My father's will shall be read in a few months' time and her name would be revealed. If I don't find her by then, the other noblemen could get to her," Arthur said. He turned to his friends. "I trust you won't tell anyone about this."

"You can be assured of that, my friend," Lanceleot replied, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"Of course, Duchess." Gwaine said, followed by Perceival's solemn nod of assent.

"Good," Arthur said with a relieved smile, feeling like a heavy weight had finally been lifted from his chest.

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Finally, after a couple of weeks of waiting, Arthur had a lead.

Agravaine Cornwall, owner of a bordello called Moulin Rouge in Paris, France.

Arthur tried not to blanch at the thought of his sister working at such a dubious establishment.

He sent a letter to the man, inquiring if a woman named Morgana was in his employ. He had received a positive response, quite creepy in its enthusiastic description of Morgana's features. After the exchange of a couple more missives, Arthur's hopes had reached new heights. Mr. Cornwall's narration of his courtesan's past were similar to Morgana's. It was highly likely that this Morgana was the Morgana.

In their last letters, Mr. Cornwall, in turn, asked if Arthur was interested in investing in the Moulin Rouge for its other upcoming business ventures. Although the implication was subtle, there was no doubt that the businessman would not let Arthur meet the courtesan if he didn't show some wealth.

Arthur could do nothing but roll his eyes and agree. Thankfully, he had the money to spare.

After two weeks of correspondence and a promise of a drawn contract upon Arthur's arrival, Mr. Cornwall had allowed him to visit.

Packing up that same day, Arthur prayed to the god he no longer believed in that he was on the right track.

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"It won't disappear the moment you tear your gaze away from it, you know?" Lance's amused voice filtered through his head.

Arthur looked up from the photo he had in his hand, broken out of his musings. The train jostled sharply for a moment and Arthur had to place a hand on the windowsill.

"Maybe Duchess here," Gwaine shot him a lecherous smirk, "is having inappropriate thoug—"

Arthur elbowed the man sharply in the ribs, making Gwaine double over and cough in pain. Perceival smothered a snicker at the other bodyguard's predicament. Thankfully, the four of them secured a private cubicle because Arthur would never let anyone else witness his less than gentlemanly manners.

His gaze drifted back to the photo that Mr. Cornwall had sent him. The woman in the picture, dressed in an indecently revealing glittering dress, had dark hair cascading down one shoulder and seemingly pale skin. The woman had his father's sharp nose and equally sharp cheekbones. Arthur couldn't be sure but she probably had blue eyes that matches his own.

All in all, her resemblance to a Pendragon was undeniable. Arthur was confident she was the one—she was Morgana Pendragon, his half-sister.

"Really, Arthur," Gwaine drawled once again, putting his hands behind his head in an arrogant manner. "One would think that you are considering some incestuous—"

"Finish that sentence and you'll be finding yourself looking for a new job," Arthur said in an overly saccharine tone. But he finally kept the photo inside his jacket pocket just to avoid any further teasing.

Gwaine merely laughed at his threat, the sod.

Arthur cocked an unamused brow at his bodyguard. "I was about to thank you lot for coming with me but I see now that I should have left you behind."

"Aww, don't be like that, Duchess." Gwaine gave the blond duke a friendly slap on the back. "You'll all be lost without me."

"Of course," Lancelot agreed with a tilt of his head. "Who else would almost get us arrested for flirting with the wrong woman?"

Arthur and Perceival guffawed at the truthfulness of the statement and the memories surrounding it.

"Oi!" Gwaine squawked indignantly. "How was I supposed to know she was already taken?"

"I think the fact that she had a big diamond around her ring finger is probably a warning to stay away," Perceival interjected.

And so, the whole ride to Paris was filled with pleasant laughter and unforgettable anecdotes of Arthur's friends.

He was truly looking forward at the prospect of meeting his sister. He could only hope the meeting would go well.

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I tried to integrate Victorian values into their attitudes so they might be quite OOC but they'll get back to themselves, I promise.

Any suggestions for the plot are welcome!

Constructive criticisms are very much welcomed too and are taken to dinner. Kindly point out any glaring errors!

Have a happy day!

~Vividpast