So, this is a young!Arthur and Morgana fic, a prequel to another fic which will deal with the four of them as in the universe of the show as it is now. I couldn't resist just doing some background and testing out the characters.

This isn't My Idea Of Fun!

Arthur slashed his wooden sword at the dummy and tried to imagine himself a great warrior like his father. Someday, he would be the greatest king Albion would ever know, he would rule on high and everyone would have to bow before him.

"Your highness," a voice said, interrupting his lesson. It was Gaius, Father's physician and one of the most important men in the kingdom, though not as important as him. "Your father has summoned you."

'What is going on?" Arthur asked, mopping his brow with a scarf. "Is something wrong?" he asked. It wasn't like Father to summon him in the middle of the day.

"It is not for me to tell," Gaius said simply, motioning him to follow. "Come along, your father does not like to be kept waiting. He said he wishes to see you immediately in his private chambers. An important guest has come that he wishes you to meet."

Arthur quickly dropped his sword on the ground and raced to the royal quarters as quickly as his legs would carry him, pushing aside servants who didn't get out of his way fast enough. He was fascinated to know who the new guest would be. Maybe it would be a foreign prince who wanted to challenge him to a duel, or perhaps a warrior from the North, who would report on foreign lands. He skidded to a stop right before the door and composed himself. "Father," he said softly.

"Come in," his father's curt reply. Arthur straightened his jerkin once quickly and hoped his father would not notice the small stain on his hose. Father was always exacting about looking like a proper royal, especially for someone who would be significant enough to merit a meeting with the royal family.

It wasn't the important guest he thought it would be. "Arthur, this is the Lady Morgana, Princess of Rheged," Father said, holding the hand of the small pale girl who looked like a little crow in her black dress. "She will be living here at the palace."

"Why? I don't wish for a girl to live here," Arthur blurted out before realizing how disrespectful he sounded. Why didn't he think before he spoke?

The girl gasped in horror, before being soothed by Father. "He didn't mean that, Morgana. He is merely behaving like a child without sense, something I hope to see disciplined out of him," he said softly. "And he will mind his tone when he speaks to you. Your father, Lord Gorlois was my dearest friend and I have given my word that you will be protected and happy," Father snapped, with a clear warning of punishment in his voice as he turned to Arthur. "So unless you have other commentary on the matter, you will welcome her properly."

Arthur forced himself not to scowl. This was a battle he would not win. "Hello, Lady Morgana. Welcome to your new home. I hope you are very happy," he said, bowing deeply.

Morgana looked up at him with enormous blue eyes. "My lord prince," she said, with a deep curtsy. "Thank you for giving me shelter." The open disdain in her eyes was clear; she was playing a part and hated him as much as he hated her. She held out her tiny hand and Arthur forced himself to kiss it politely. He was going to be sick.

"It was our greatest pleasure. Arthur will be happy to show you around the palace in the afternoon and I can show you the pony I have purchased for your riding lessons," Father said, giving her a rare smile, one he rarely gave his true born only son and heir. "Are you hungry?"

"No, my lord," Morgana said, just as sweetly. She was just like a parrot; just say what she was supposed to in order for Father to dote on her. "I am just happy to have finally arrived."

"You must be tired from your journey, dear child," Father said, patting Morgana's hair. "I have had the cook make you a honey cake. I insist you make this castle your home. Anything you wish, you only need ask. As far as anyone here is concerned, you are my daughter."

Morgana curtsied again. "Thank you, my lord," she said in a sweet voice. "Perhaps I could just sit down and rest a bit in my room?" she asked. "I don't want to be much of a bother."

Arthur's scowl broke through. He didn't get honey cake and he didn't like sharing his father with some girl. She looked boring and she obviously was not someone who was going to make his life better. "May I go back to my lessons?" he asked, unwilling to even look at the horrible creature. "I nearly mastered the next sword set."

"I didn't mean to disturb you, my lord prince. I apologize for being such a bother," Lady Morgana said sadly, but there was a cruel glint in her eyes that made Arthur worried. "I hope you can forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Father said angrily. "Arthur, your manner requires correction. Your rudeness to your new foster sister is unacceptable behavior and a sign of disrespect to the crown. You will come to my quarters tomorrow to discuss how to improve your behavior."

Arthur paled, knowing that this would not go well for him. Damn that little witch, he wished he could strike her, but didn't dare make his fate even worse. "Yes, Father," he said softly. Morgana smirked and winked at him.

"You are dismissed," Father said, still glaring at him. "And I would suggest you use the time to mend your behavior. A knight behaves with gallantry towards a lady. To make sure of your education, you can go without dinner."

Arthur bowed deeply, tears blurring the smirking image of his new foster sister. She wanted a war and she would get it! "Yes, Father."

He walked out slowly, cursing his bad luck. He would be having this horrible creature as his new foster sister. At least Father hadn't punished him in front of that smirking brat.

Still, it would be a long night waiting for the axe to fall. He just hoped that girl was as miserable as he was. He had always wanted a younger sibling, but he had no wish for a puny little raven who only served to make trouble for him.

Trevor, his manservant waited for him. "May I help my lord?" he stuttered, clearly nervous just to speak to him.

Arthur shoved him to the floor. "How many times do I have to tell you not to speak until spoken to?" he demanded. Father said a king had to demand respect and Arthur planned to make sure he was the best king ever. "Go scrub the hall till it shines, then mend my laundry, clean my sword and polish my armor. If you're not busy enough, I can throw you in the stocks, dolt," he snapped, throwing himself on the bed. He hadn't fully made himself feel better, but it was enough to make himself feel slightly better. If he was unhappy, he saw no reason anyone should feel differently.

As it was, he was going to be even more unhappy in the morning.

AN-To be continued.