Many Lifetimes

Janus had been such a disappointment. The young scientist had shown promise, but with the sudden appearance of this primitive woman, he'd become obsessed with returning her to her own timeline. Time was something not even the Alterans should be tampering with, and it would only end in disaster.

He rather suspected that she had not gone through the Gate to Earth at all, but said nothing. The Alterans would never again return to their city, he knew. What did he care if she stayed behind to die?

Slowly, he became vaguely aware that he was sitting up, hands clasped over his head, bent over folded legs. Whispery voices teased at his ears, but his brain felt like it was running in slow-motion, not quite catching up to the conversation.

The Others did not understand why the Ori would become a threat. Noninterference would never prevail over such an unstoppable force. Even without a mortal body, he felt shunned from their presence, outcast from their society. Even Oma Desala, young as she was, would have little to do with him.

He transported himself to an isolated planet, far from the watching eyes of the Others, and focused on returning to human form.

He raised his head a little, opening his eyes, faintly startled to find his sight clear despite the absence of his glasses. Two figures knelt in front of him. "How you doing, sunshine?" one asked.

Arthur had been so young, so new to the ways of the universe. He had wondered if the boy would truly be of any consequence after all. Then had come the test of the sword, and the gathering of the knights, and he knew that it was right. These humans would help him keep the secret of the Sangraal, hide it away from the Ancients and the Ori alike.

He'd created the mantle to render himself and his works invisible, but even that would not be enough. So he hid the clues, creating a quest that only the truly determined and worthy would be able to complete. Concealed in numerous primitive villages, isolated from Earth through the Stargate, he knew that the secret would be safe. Galahad, Bors, and Perceval would see to it.

"He was right," he murmured, clasping his hands in a gesture that felt both comforting and alien all at once. He stared at the twice-familiar face in front of him. "You do look like Perceval."