a/n: There will be some major spoilers for the 7th book: Lord Sunday and will have an AU ending. This is what I thought Lord Sunday should have been like. Yes, if it happened in the real book, it wouldn't be much but this is how I pictured Lord Sunday in my head. It will take off from chapter five, near the end where Arthur was with Phineas between the hedges and he heard the rustle in the greenery.

Little Lord Sunday

There was something - a rustle in the hedge, as if a large rat was wriggling through the tight-packed greenery. But he couldn't see anything, and the sound stopped as he slowly turned his head, trying to fix the position of the noise.

"It's gone," Arthur hesitated, returned the keys to his pouch, and turned around to follow Phineas.

At that moment, two enormous, greened skinned Denizens, burst out of the greenery as if the hedge itself had come to life. They grabbed Arthur's arms and began to twist them behind his back.

Arthur shouted in fury, and tried to throw them forward, but they held on tight, and their long, gnarled toes dug into the earth like tree roots, to hold him fast.

"Keys!" roared Arthur, and flexed his fingers. His pouch flew open and the mirror and the pen flew towards his hands.

But the keys never reached Arthur's waiting grip. They were caught in midair by a bright silver net - a net wielded by Phineas the Second Assistant Sub-Gardener's Aide Fourth Class Once Removed. And now that Arthur was actually looking at Phineas, he saw that behind his right shoulder was none other than what Arthur knew to be Sunday's Noon. In the same instant the tall green Denizens had erupted from the hedge Phineas had changed.

That was when Arthur knew that this was no Second Assistant Sub-Gardener's Aide Fourth Class Once Removed, but Lord Sunday himself. And Arthur couldn't help the look of shook that crossed his face and he had all but forgotten the two green Denizens twisted his arms tight. Looking DOWN Arthur stared into the big eyes of what Arthur thought had to be four year-old.

THAT was what Arthur couldn't believe. All of the other trustees that he had seen had all been about ten feet tall, they were so elegant and defined. Arthur had thought that Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday were positively elegant - and in his mind he had always thought that Lord Sunday would be the greatest of them all. He had never expected this.

Lord Sunday was a four year-old, human looking boy. But he was also the most cutest and elegant toddler that Arthur had ever seen. He had also never seen a Denizen or other this young before in the house, the youngest was 12, as old as he and the Piper's children were. Lord Sunday had blond curls - also something that Arthur had never seen in the house - his eyes were not the normal brown, blue or green, but his irises were that of a rainbow - very much different from Arthur's now glowing irises surrounded by gold instead of the normal white.

Arthur shook himself, ripping his gaze away from those big eyes; he could feel the pressure from the sorcerous energy coming from Sunday. Now that Arthur could focus on Lord Sunday as a whole and not just his eyes, he was holding the withering Keys in the net with his left hand and his right was actually holding Noon's left hand. A chain around his neck lead up into his mouth, and his cheek protruded slightly as he sucked on the small object that was attached.

Sunday gave him a shy smile, but it was Noon who spoke; his voice like molten gold jsut as his tongue was.

"Bind him with the chains," instructed Noon. "Be careful. He is very strong and you don't want to upset the Lord."

The two Denizens clamped Arthur's wrists with manacles that shone with their own intense blue light. He had seen that sorcerous steel before, binding the Old One to his clock, so he struggled even harder. But the Denizens were to strong and they were aided by the unseen power that Arthur felt pressing down upon him, the power that he knew emitted from the Seventh Key that Lord Sunday had in the hallow of his cheek.

Arthur knew that even though Lord Sunday looked like a toddler, he wasn't. He was just like any of the other Trustees, just like any other Denizen. They went against the Architect's Will, wielding they Key that were entrusted to them to hold until the Rightful Heir was found. Well, that had happened and they kept their Keys anyway and locked away their parts of the Will. It was Arthur's job to claim all of the keys and just like the other Trustees, Sunday had refused the Will. Arthur wasn't going to treat him any differently then he would any of the other Trustees because of his appearance.

As one of the Denizens fastened a chain to the manacle on his right hand, Arthur summoned up all of his strength. Wrenching his arm freed, he held out his hand, pointed it directly at Sunday, and shouted. "I, Arthur, anointed Heir of the Kingdom, claim the Seventh Key-"

Lord Sunday's eyes widened slightly and he griped Noon's hand. He gave a hard suck on the Key hidden in his cheek, causing its out line to be more prominent. Arthur immediately lost his voice, his few words croaking away unintelligibility.

"You cannot claim the Key without the aid of Part Seven of the Will," Noon's own eyes narrowed. "And wish you would not say things that would upset My Lord."

The Denizens finished fastening the chains to the manacles around Arthur's hands, bringing them behind his back. It felt like a terribly cold current was running counter clockwise around his wrists. They felt so strong and he doubted whether he could break them even if he managed to get back the Fifth and Sixth Keys. They were still jumping and flying around inside the silver net, which Sunday was holding lazily in his hand that hung by his side. While his other still gripped Noon's and the Key was hidden in his mouth. He knew that it had to be small for it to fit in Sunday's cheek and could probably grow and change much like Sunday had.

Lord Sundays rainbow irises shifted up as Noon kept his stare on Arthur; ready to move at a moments notice. Arthur fallowed his gaze. There was something above them, a black dot against the beautiful blue sky with its whispery white clouds. The dot grew bigger and bigger as it drew closer to them and Arthur saw that it was a huge dragonfly. it hovered above them, it's wings almost touching the tops of the hedges on either side.

It was huge, its body about sixty feet in length, and its wings were easily twice that length. Arthur could see clearly from below, but he could faintly see something was wrapped around the dragonfly's midsection. Something that only Arthur could summarize was a saddle, like the ones they put on horses.

A long rope ladder was thrown down from somewhere above, unrolling as it fell. It ended near Noon, who picked up Sunday in one arm, caring him on his hip before he started to climb. Seemingly effortlessly with his burden, taking three or four rungs at a time.

Another rope was thrown over back along the creatures body, a large hook on the end. The Denizens holding Arthur looped the chains around the hook, the Denizen to his left waved above and the rope was hauled up, leaving Arthur dangling some thirty feet below the dragonfly. It was painful, with his arms twisted behind his back and the manacles on his wrists supporting his entire weight.

The two green skinned Denizens disappeared back into the hedge and the thrum of the dragonfly's wings increased in tempo and pitch. The dragonfly zoomed up and jinked sharply to the right in a move that sent Arthur swinging on his chains, jerking his arms enough to make him let out a gasp.

Through the throbbing in his shoulders, Arthur heard a burst of childish laughter from up above and knew that it was Lord Sunday himself, laughing like a child.

Arthur had tried to use his superior strength to try and break the chains, but it was no use. The pain in his shoulder was gaining and he tried to lessen the pain; he twisted and flipped until his manacled hand were in front him instead of behind. He tried to get out of the manacles; he brought his wrists together and tried to get his fingers of his right hand under the left manacle, to see if he could bend or break it. But the manacles were to tight and he knew that there was no chance they could be opened by any physical act. He tried to summon a telephone as he had done before in other parts of the house, nothing happened. After that he tried to call the First, Second, Third, and Fourth Keys to him as he had done in the Middle House. But that didn't work either, his voice hoarse from what Sunday had done to him. Always, he felt the pressure unseen pressure of the Seventh Key working against him.

While Arthur was now very hard to kill, Lord Sunday certainly had the power to slay him if he wanted to, though if he did want to, he presumably would have done so already.

Arthur thought about that a little more.

Sunday had been able to catch and hold the Fifth and Sixth Keys while Arthur was being bound, but perhaps if he's tried to kill Arthur, the Keys would have defended him more strongly. Also, if he did kill Arthur, then Sunday could never take the other Keys. They had to be handed over willingly.

It was possible that Lord Sunday might not want the other keys. Arthur had no idea what Sunday really wanted. Things had seemed to change now that he knew Sunday was a four year-old. And Arthur would keep assuming so until he was showed different. He seemed like a normal four year-old to Arthur - beside the rainbow irises - he hadn't said a word, Noon had done all of the talking. This was very confusing, more so then anything Arthur had ever encountered in the House.

All Arthur knew was that Sunday was one of the originals faithless Trustees who had not obeyed the Architect and had broken and hidden the seven parts of the Will instead of fallowing the Will's instructions. As Arthur was effectively an agent of the Will, and the supposed Rightful Heir of the Architect, Lord Sunday was automatically his enemy.

BUT MAYBE WE CAN WORK SOMETHING OUT, he thought. WE BOTH HAVE TO STOP THE TIDE OF NOTHING, TO SAVE THE HOUSE AND THE REST OF THE UNIVERSE. MAYBE I COULD CONFIRM THAT HE COULD STAY IN CHARGE OG THE INCOMPARABLE GARDENS, AND HE' BE LEFT ALONE - HE IS JUST A KID AFTER ALL. Arthur shook his head; he himself was still just a kid, so how did that make Lord Sunday any different?

They were flying towards the terraced hill that Arthur had glimpsed; only it was no longer aiming for the top of the hill, but a point about halfway up. Arthur swung himself

around as he got lower, and tried to stop his spin. There was something on that terrace that had caught his eye, and he wanted a better look.

He got it, and felt a chill colder than the icy steel around his wrists. On the terrace halfway up the hill, lying flat was a twenty-foot-wide clock face, with vertical numbers of blue sorceress metal. The clock had long, sharply pointed hands, and next to their central pivot was a small trapdoor.

It was the smaller replica of the Old One's prison, save that there was no one chained to the clock hands. Or at least, Arthur thought, there was no one there, YET. . .

The dragonfly swooped down to the third terrace that was cut into the hill, about halfway up, and Arthur was dragged over rough green turf for twenty feet before the flying creature came to a stop and went into a steady hover. As if the came out of the woodwork, the same two green Denizens that had chained him, materialized out of the turf on either side of him. They unhooked Arthur's chains from the dragonfly's tow rope and, as he had feared, dragged him over to the clock.

Noon fallowed close behind, descending from the rope ladder that tumbled down from the dragonfly's midsection. He was once again carrying Lord Sunday on his hip and he descended down the ladder effortlessly. Noon set Sunday on the grassy turf, who took his hand instantly, his left still holding the silver net. Another Denizen materialized out of the turf, and by his clothing Arthur knew that it was Dusk, Sunday handed him the net and he disappeared again.

Arthur struggled against the two Denizens leading him as they drew nearer to the clock face. Arthur could feel the force of Sunday's power push encouragingly at him; not forcing him to go, but compelling him to go. And even in his altered Denizen state, he could resist such sorcery. One of them held him as the other fastened the chains to the tips of the clock hands. Arthur felt the chains grow shorter, like an elastic returning to its normal length, and they dragged him across the clock face till he had to sit on the central pivot, next to the trapdoor.

The hour hand was on the twelve and the minute hand just past it. The trap door was closed, but Arthur could hear a faint whirring behind it.

"This is like the Old One's clock prison," Arthur said to Lord Sunday, who stood by the number six, Noon at his side. He still held the Fifth and Sixth Keys in his left, and Noon's hand in his right. He had asked Sunday, but it was Noon who had answered.

"In some ways, yes." Noon said in an inconclusive manner.

"Are there puppets within that will take out my eyes?" Arthur still directed his question at Lord Sunday.

Once again, it was Noon who answered after a beat of silence. "No,"

Arthur was surprised by this. He could have sworn that this was just like the one that imprisoned the Old One down in the Deep Reaches. Or Noon was lying. "What do you want from me? I you want the Keys, then you'll be sorely disappointed!"

"That is not what My Lord wishes," Noon snapped quietly.

Arthur could have sworn the air around them wavered.

"Then why am I here if you don't want the keys?" Arthur said, leaning forward in the heat of his frustrations. "If you want to kill me, then fine, but I'm sick of playing these games!"

"That is precisely why you are here," Noon said.

Arthur sat back confused. "So you ARE going to kill me," Arthur could have sworn that he say Noon hold back an eye roll.

"Lord Sunday wishes to have a play date, and you are invited." Noon told him, his tone threatening.

Arthur's brows furrowed as he looked up at the tall Denizen, not sure if he heard correctly. And if he did hear correctly, then did that mean that Lord Sunday was really four year-old. Arthur had yet to hear Lord Sunday say a word and he did act like a four year-old more than he did a grown Denizen.

"At this very second you're being attack by Saturday and the Piper!" Arthur nearly shouted, but caught himself at the last second. "And you want to have a play date?"

Sunday and Noon were silent - the former cocking his head ever so slightly - and Arthur took that as a sign to continue.

"All of the other Trustees are dead. Nothing has broken through the barrier and destroyed all of the Lower House, the Far Reaches, the Border Sea, the Great Maze, it's already worked its way throughout the Middle of the middle and soon, sooner then you can think, its going to sweep away the Incomparable Gardens. You are being over run by Saturdays sorcerer and the Piper's army of Newnith's, they've blown a hole in the underside. If you don't give me the Seventh Key as the Rightful Heir, then I can't stop the flow of nothing from destroying the house, which will ultimately destroy the universe!"

Silence ensued, but Arthur had to blink because as he looked at Lord Sunday, he seemed to age before his very eyes. The air around Sunday rippled, like the heat waves coming off the hot hood of a car, and he started to grow older. He aged eight years in the space of a minute; his curly blond hair shortened and darkened, his facial features became more defined and prominent, as he grew taller his clothes grew also to fit his different stature.

The now twelve year-old Lord Sunday looked from Arthur to Noon, who had fallen to his knees and wrapped his arms around Sundays waist, burying his face in Sunday's stomach. Lord Sunday looked down at the crown of his head.

"Please forgive me, My Lord!" Noon begged, his voice muffled.

Arthur had never heard such emotion come from a Denizen before.

Noon continued. "I was only thinking of you, My Lord, I was only thinking of your safety."

Sunday was silent as he raised his hands, one going to the back of Noon's neck, and the other lay on his head, leafing through his dark locks. The Seventh key fell from his mouth, the chain shrinking until the Key lay in the hallow of his throat.

"There's nothing that needs to be forgiven, My Noon." Lord Sunday spoke for the first time, his voice was gentle and soft, but hi words carried as if he had called them out.

Arthur could feel the sorcery that laced his voice climb through his bones.

Though he was still looking down at Noon, Sunday's words were directed at Arthur. "I will hand over the Seventh Key willingly and take you to that last part of Will, so that you may restore the House to it's original order. And my people and myself will assist you in any way you see fit; Lord Arthur, the Rightful Heir of the Architect."

He didn't take his hands from Noon's hair, but he gave Arthur a bow. When Sunday stood up straight again, the whole clock that Arthur was chained to just vanished and he was left standing on the green turf. He blinked and the next thing Arthur knew, the Fifth and Sixth Keys were in each of his hands.

"Come," Sunday said, taking Noon's hands and pulling him up. "We must get things underway."

Beyond the hill of the Elysium, with a roar like a thousand planes taking off, a great gout of Nothing burst from the ground, continuing upward to cut through the ceiling of the sky. A second later, through the great gash in the fabric of the House above, an answering torrent of Nothing came cascading back down.

Thousands of Denizens, insects, Newniths, and others were destroyed in the this first assault from the Void. A few seconds later, before anyone could react, another fountain of Nothing burst up, and another. Nothing spread everywhere, annihilating the Gardens as quickly as someone might wipe a table clean.

Arthur tried to turn, his face contorted with the useless effort. He tried to speak, but could not. He tried to use the Keys against the Nothing that was pouring in on all sides, but he couldn't do that either. He, as well as the others, were fixed in place by the power of the Will.

Nothing spread to the edge of the lawn, and high waves of it crested together above Arthur's head. It had only taken a few seconds, but the Incomparable Garden's, and the other inhabitants of the House. The Elysium was annihilated in that final wave of Nothing, and with it destruction, so too the Secondary Realms were destroyed: every galaxy, star, and planet, including Earth, and all its people, life, and wonders. The Architect's Creation was no more. The Universe had to return to the Nothing from which it had been made.

Arthur blinked, and chocked back a surge of nausea. The sun was to bright, and his legs felt weak...so weak that they began to crumple underneath him. He quickly sat down on the grass and noticed that not only were his legs not holding him up, they were back to being normal boy-size and he was were jeans. He had a T-shirt too, a vintage Ratz band T-shirt, and his chest and arms were certainly back to normal as well and when he ran his hands through his hair, it felt...human.

But a moment ago he had been the New Architect, and was re-creating the cosmos. Now he was - Arthur looked around - now he was back on Earth. The field outside of his school to be more exact; the field were everything had started so this must be where it had to end.

He looked to his left and saw that three people were running towards him, one tall and the other two short. Leaf, Ed and the coach, running towards him because he was having an asthma attach. Arthur took a deep and found that the expansion of his lungs was not restricted. Arthur took another break and a smile crossed his face; his asthma was gone.

"Your lungs will not restrict your performance no longer," said a familiar voice from behind him.

Arthur twisted around, and sitting right behind him was Lord Sunday, his legs crossed and he was wearing the schools gym uniform. Beside him, was another boy the same age, but instead of blond locks, his were dark. Arthur could only stare.

"Hello again, Arthur." he stuck out his hand. "I'm Sunny, and this is my cousin, Noon."

Still in a light shock, Arthur shook his hand expecting to feel a sorceress power, but he didn't even feel an itch. He glanced at Noon and saw that SUNNY and Noon were still holding hands as they always did when they were in the House.

"What are you doing here?" Arthur asked in confusion.

He looked back behind him, and saw that Leaf and Ed were still running his way, but they hadn't really reached him yet like they should have.

"We're student's at this school, knew like you are." Noon answered him, his tongue no longer gold, but pink and very much human, just like his appearance.

"I don't understand," Arthur confessed.

"You saved the House and the Secondary Realms, Arthur." Sunny told him. "You became the New Architect, putting things back in its place. No one will remember what has transpired, but you, Noon and myself. All of the contamination from the House is no longer in the Secondary Realms, and you and your family are safe."

Noon glanced over to where Leaf and Ed were and squeezed Sunny's hand as if in signal.

"Right," Sunny blinked, and fished in his gym shorts pocket. He pulled out a blue inhaler and handed it to Arthur.

Arthur took it confused. "But you said I don't have asthma any more,"

Sunny gave him a dazzling smile. "But you did have one here, it was how you became the Rightful Heir. Miss Leaf and Mister Ed saw you have one and that's what they told the coach."

At the mention of Leaf, Arthur turned and saw that they had finally made it, Leaf and Ed out of breath, but the coach's breath wasn't even slightly hitched.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" Leaf panted out slightly.

Arthur stood up, and Sunny and Noon fallowed him, still holding hands.

"Yeah," Ed piped in. "We thought you were done for, for sure,"

Arthur winced as he looked at them, he glanced at the coach, but when he received a glare he quickly turned his gaze. "Yeah, sorry about that. I couldn't find my inhaler, but after you left to find the coach, Sunny and Noon found. They lended me theirs," he lid slightly.

The coach looked at all them, his eyes hard. "Don't forget again," he told Arthur. "Now start running. You're behind the rest of the class, no excuses!"

He tuned around and started to jog back down the path, but not before getting a glance at Sunny's and Noon's linked hands. Arthur could have sworn that he muttered something like queer under his breath. He glanced at Sunny and Noon, but they showed no sign of hearing it, though Arthur knew differently.

"Well, I guess we better run." Arthur said, and Leaf and Ed gave him an are-you-crazy look. Arthur shrugged his shoulders. "Do you want to get detention?" he raised an eyebrow and stowed the inhaler that Sunny had given him in his jeans. He started off at a slow jog.

Sunny and Noon jogged after him immediately, their hands still locked. After a minute or so, Leaf and Ed fallowed them with a very reluctant jog themselves.

note: I loved The Keys to the Kingdom by Garth Nix, but I think that he left things unresolved with the stuff back on Earth. I think that this does cover it and I might just make a sequel or something that continues from this if I have time or something - I hoped you enjoyed and please review.