Never Enough
Some would say he was thirsty for power. Others would say he was ready to do anything to get between Morgause's legs. All would call him a fool. None of them could even begin to imagine what it really went in his head.
Cendred was powerful, and rich. He had had Morgause enough times for it not to drive him insane and suicidal. He didn't need anything she could honestly give him, and yet, he couldn't say no to her, for there was always something he would want, and that she could never grant.
For, as few would realize, Cendred really loved Morgause. Not the priestess, not the witch, not the warrior, not the woman, but the whole person. Not what she had become, but everything she had ever been. He had known her for long, and she had grown roots inside his heart in ways he had never imagined possible.
It wasn't want, and it wasn't about power. It wasn't about anything but who she was, and who he was. It wasn't about romance, although he would have asked her to be his queen long ago if he didn't think she'd see it as an insult – as a way to bend her will and dominate her. It was deeper and more honest than that.
Cendred couldn't understand Uther or his laws, he couldn't understand his hatred. Surely he knew magic was to be feared, Morgause had saw to that, but that didn't mean it was to be forbidden and it's users persecuted whether they had harmed someone or not. Uther spoke of justice, but acted with tyranny. Cendred never thought himself a good king, but he also never claimed to be a fair ruler. He knew his limits, and didn't pretend, as his fellow ruler did.
He didn't hate Uther either – he tried not to bother much about him, but he couldn't deny Morgause that she had a point – a fair, good, strong reason to attack Camelot. She had allies, and he had an army. She had spells and he had swords. They didn't need to rule the land, only to conquer it, and allow people to roam free to choose their own lives and their own protection.
Maybe it would have worked, if he kept on trying, but not even his love for Morgause could make him continue to attack a fortress that wouldn't crack. He loved her, yes, but he had a kingdom to rule, and his people to see to. If Camelot wasn't a fruit ripe enough for picking, he could big his time – he didn't need it, after all. And if Morgause thought less of him for ordering retreat, so be it, for she couldn't offer him anything that he didn't already have.
She couldn't offer him her heart.
He couldn't offer her one kingdom.
But he could save the lives of thousands if he left, thousands that would love thank him for it, that would live for him, and that would come again when ordered.
He already had all he could have, and it would have to be enough.