Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did there would be a lot more Morgana/Merlin and Tons more showy magic.

It was probably the shock. It was probably the shock of his father disinheriting him in front of God, Camelot and the entire court that made Arthur do it. It was the only thing he could really think of. Because there he was at Guinevere's door, without the memory of walking there, quietly repeating a mantra of "What in the— I don't understa— what just happened?" without his ever deciding to come. He wiped his hands over his eyes, trying to relax himself. Shakily, he dropped his hands at his side and looked up. Puzzled, and feeling a bit ill, Arthur turned to walk back to the castle. His eyes were drawn to the towering parapets, and he felt sicker. With Merlin gone, and the festivities of his father's marriage still raging, there was nothing there for him now. No reason to return.

He took a deep breath and began to think. Sudden thoughts made him dizzy. Should he appeal to the court? They would probably turn away in order to protect themselves. Should he search for something to break the bond between his father and the queen? He would be a hypocrite. Wasn't it just last week that he told Merlin that Catrina made Uther happy, and that was all that mattered? And he didn't need any more of a reason for his father to distrust him. Should he go to one of his uncles in the country side? There were certainly family friends, people that he had protected in the past that might take him in. somewhere he could go and recuperate, gain followers, train and help the people in the way that a crown prince might. He could go. He could leave Camelot.

A wide grin passed onto Arthur's face. His eyes glazed over and secret fantastic thoughts began to rage behind them. He could go anywhere. No more responsibilities! No more training day after day, no more fighting the not-so-mythical beasts that seemed to plague his father's house. No more parties, no more effortless jousts, no more courtiers and courtiers' daughters vying for his attention. He could do anything! He could become an adventurer, sailing the seas and fighting the barbarians from the north. He could turn to medicine and studying and become a wise healer. He could learn magic! Wouldn't that stick it to his father! He didn't need greatness either! He could go to Mercia or one of the other kingdoms, and become a farmer. Ha! Uther Pendragon's heir a farmer.

As he thought about it, the idea became more and more pleasant. He could go away from here and live an unassuming life. Perhaps not farming— he could do something with his hands. He could become a blacksmith's apprentice, and build his own forge and a reputation for good solid work. He could have a lovely little cottage and a barn with an actual garden away from the high stone walls of Camelot. He could settle down and have some Blacksmith's children with a Blacksmith's wife.

He imagined himself hammering down iron for whichever kingdom he found and the sturdy feminine hands of his wife grasping the rods and dropping them into that barrel filled with water that blacksmith's liked to use. He saw Tom use one on many occasions.

Arthur thought back to his wife's hands. In his minds eye they were darker and smooth, with thick skin and almond shaped nails. Arthur started and blushed. They were Gwen's hands.

Of course they were Gwen's hands. Lately when weren't the hands in his mind's Gwen's hands? He'd paid enough attention to them at the dinners and state functions lately to have memorized their contour. He'd though about her hands late at night when he couldn't sleep. He thought about her hands now, beautiful and strong, capable and direct moving to do their work impeccably and with honor. He thought about her hands on the nights when she nursed him the day of the tournament where he was injured. He imagined her hands on his shoulders, perhaps after a long day of smithing, her hands on his chest, on his face, on him everywhere. He wanted her hands to be his wife's hands.

And now maybe they could be. He was no longer the crown prince. He had no duty to Camelot any longer. He could marry who ever would marry him! His heart raced and he laughed loudly, tempted to jump up in the air.

There was no reason to wait or to pine any longer. He could reveal his feelings to Gwen and they would go off and live a happily- ever- after, and everything would be wonderful!

Only one problem Arthur, drawled the voice in the back of his head (that sounded suspiciously like Merlin). You don't know if she loves you back.

That damnable Lancelot. He was in the way. If only everything had gone according to plan, and He had been able to save Gwen. She would have fallen into his arms and helped them hack their way of out Hengist's lair and everything would have worked out just fine. Damnable Lancelot.

What was wrong with him! He was a Prince for crying out loud! The Best Prince in all of Albion thank you very much! He was honorable and just and damn handsome as well. If he was brave enough to take on a questing beast, a unicorn keeper and his father's wrath he was brave enough to tell Guinevere of his feelings and keep it together long enough to make it back to his bedroom if she denied him. He turned back to her door and knocked.

Nothing. After all of that, she wasn't even home. He waited a moment and tried again. He felt a fool, and turned around to walk home, only to find Guinevere standing right in front of him. His breath caught in his throat and he cleared it readjusting his head to its normal height.

"Hello Guinevere."

"Good day sire."

They stood in silence for a moment. He coughed into his sleeve.

" I—"

"Arthur, I heard what happened. I'm so sorry! And after all I'd just said. Maybe if I wasn't so stubborn and against Uther, Maybe if I'd encouraged you to apologize instead of encouraging your rebellion, I could have helped. I feel that this is in some way my fault."

He stared at her surprised for the second time that day. "Guinevere. Please. You had nothing to do with Uther's decision. It was the fault of no one but me. And perhaps the Queen. But we can do nothing now. Please I beg you, remove the burden of this from your shoulders."

She calmed and looked as if she were about to ask him what he was doing in front of her house when " I'm actually not that upset. Is that wrong? I was thinking about it and I feel as if a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I could do anything now Guinevere! I could leave Camelot and become a Blacksmith if I wanted!"

Her face turned sour. "You mustn't! How many times must I tell you Arthur? You are the hope of Camelot! You are the bright future for so many of us! You must go to the court and repeal this! You have to find some way to regain your title and reaffirm your position as heir to the throne."

Arthur's heart sank and he saw his dreams fly right out the window. He stared at the parapets once more. "I suppose you are right. When aren't you right?" He let out a breath of stale air. "I don't know what to do Guinevere. I have no allies. There is no one in court that will turn against Uther to me. Tell me what to do." She ushered him inside and began to make tea and think.

"We could go to the ceremony and overturn it! Find some reason to make her inadequate for the crown!"

"I don't think we have the time. I'm not familiar with the laws in the situation and I know virtually nothing about Catrina." He sat at the rough hewn table with his head in his hand. "If only Merlin were here."

"Could we send Morgana to appeal to Uther?" she plunked two mugs down in front of him

"He's been testy with the both of us lately. If he won't listen to his own son's counsel do you think he would listen to his ward's?" She nodded her head in agreement and for a few minutes they sipped their tea quietly, trying to think of anything that could help.

"I've got nothing Guinevere. I think that the best way to gain back Uther's favor, and perhaps the Queen's is to attend the ceremony and show my support. Maybe in time they'll see me as useful again, and I can regain their favor and my title."

Gwen glowered into her tea. While it did make sense, it had very little of the honorable fighting and heroic notions she had planned. She nodded and stood leaving her mug on the table and following Arthur up to the ceremony.

Author's Note: I have not written Fanfiction in about three ears. If this is awful, don't judge me. If I get some positive reviews I'll try to continue on with this story. Last night's episode was just itching for fanfiction. How I do love Fan Service.

I have low self esteem issues. Please be nice if you are going to give constructive criticism, ;)