Note: This takes place shortly after Morgana arrives in Camelot, so she is ten years old and Arthur is a little younger.

The Long Afternoon

Uther looked from his son to his ward, taking in their scabbed elbows, the dirt caked under their fingernails and smudged on their cheeks, and their muddied clothes with a single glance. "What is the meaning of this?"

"She started it!"

"He started it!"

Arthur wheeled around and gave Morgana's shoulder a savage push. "Shut up, you ugly old troll!"

Morgana's eyes narrowed in obvious fury. "Say that again and I'll pound you."

"Troll!"

With a shout she leapt onto Arthur and knocked him to the floor of the throne room. He yelled and tried to wriggle away, but Morgana was by far the taller and stronger of the two and she managed to get in several good punches before two guards hurried over to pry the children apart.

Uther closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, feeling a headache coming on.

"Children," he said once they were on their feet again, panting for breath and scowling at each other around the guards keeping them apart. "This has to stop."

"She started–"

"I don't care who started it," he interrupted with a glare. "I will not tolerate this behaviour. Morgana, if you cannot conduct yourself in more ladylike manner I will not allow your swordfighting lessons to continue."

She looked aghast, and Arthur looked smug, until Uther fixed him with a level gaze.

"And I'm very disappointed in you, Arthur. You must always remember that you are a prince of Camelot. Morgana is a lady and Camelot is her home now, and you must treat her with courtesy and kindness."

Uther knew that expressing his displeasure in his son was always more effective than any punishment he could devise, and was unsurprised when Arthur's shoulders drooped and he bowed his head, looking more defeated now than he had when Morgana had been sitting on his chest and pummelling him not more than five minutes ago.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sire," they chorused dully.

"Now run along and get yourselves cleaned up. And then perhaps you can find something else to do. Something quiet." He really did have a pounding headache.

"One of my dogs just had a litter," Arthur said, giving Morgana a wary glance. "We could go and look at the puppies, if you want."

Morgana hesitated for the briefest moment. "Yes," she said. "I'd like that."

They both glanced up at the king, clearly trying to gauge his approval. "Very well," he said, smiling benevolently as they turned to go. He watched them closely as they walked down the length of the throne room, and his heart grew lighter when he saw Morgana reach for Arthur's hand.

"You really ought to see Gaius about your bloody nose," she said, looking quite concerned and motherly, and not at all as though she was the one responsible. "I'll go with you now, if you'd like."

"I'm all right," Arthur insisted, though he didn't let go of her hand.

"I'll race you there," Morgana said. She brushed off an imaginary piece of lint from her sleeve. "Though it wouldn't be much of a contest, of course."

"Because I'd win," Arthur said, grinning as he snatched away his hand and broke into a run.

"You little cheat!" Morgana roared. "I'm going to destroy you!" Arthur's mocking laugh echoed down the corridor as she raced after him, disappearing through the door in a flurry of silk and lace.

Uther sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a very long afternoon.