CHAPTER ONE
Uther came to a halt in front of the door to the nursery. The news he had to impart to his sons was important, but he had been delaying his announcement for some time. There had been so much to do in the past few weeks, dealing with the cessation of hostilities with Caerleon, dictating the terms of the new treaty, and ensuring that the borders would be properly patrolled. He had no intention of blindly trusting that Caerleon's king would adhere to the terms, after all.
All of that, though, had been shadowed by the loss of Gorlois. Uther closed his eyes briefly. His closest friend, gone, cut down in the battle that had led to Caerleon suing for peace. Gorlois should be here, enjoying the fruits of his labors. Uther had planned to make him the chief overlord of the lands that bordered Caerleon, answerable only to him, as a reward for his valiant service and continued loyalty. Now, none of that was possible. Gorlois was dead, buried in a cairn barely a league away from Camelot. Now, all that remained of his legacy was his fine management of Cornwall, the best that area had known in centuries.
And Morgana.
A hand rested on his arm, bringing Uther out of his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he turned to his left. Ygraine's beautiful eyes stared up at him, bright with concern. "Are you all right?" she asked him softly.
Uther did his best to smile at her, squeezing her hand gently. "I'm fine," he told her. "I just hope the boys will know how to treat a young lady. She's hardly someone to play rough and tumble games with."
Ygraine chuckled. "They have each other for that, dearest. They know how to behave, and I don't doubt that they'll be all that is good and kind to her." She squeezed his arm, a wistful expression crossing her lovely features. "It will be nice to have a daughter, I think. The boys will pass from my direct care soon enough. I should like to have a girl to fuss over, to teach."
The king nodded, but struggled to hide a reflexive frown that tugged at his lips. He pushed the nursery door open. As he stepped into the room with his wife, he looked around. The nursery was a large, spacious suite of rooms, perfect for two growing princes. The main was well-lit thanks to the large windows that had been cut out of the stone walls especially for the purpose of providing more light. It had been done at high cost, but Ygraine had been delighted by it, so Uther couldn't begrudge the spent gold too much.
He quickly spotted his two sons, who were sitting at a table, their heads, one bright like spun gold and the other dark like night, bent over something spread out in front of them. Their nurse, a woman called Hunith, sat nearby her fingers moving deftly over some mending. Uther was pleased to see her periodically glance over at her charges, checking to see that they were at work and not being slothful. He had been hesitant when they had first hired her, not long after Arthur's birth, since she hadn't had much experience with children – indeed, she didn't even have any children of her own – but Gaius vouched for her, and Ygraine had liked her manner. Hunith had proved to be yet another sound investment on their part.
One of the woman's periodic checks on her charges alerted her to their presence, and Hunith immediately stood up, leaving her mending to fall on her seat behind her. "Prince Arthur, Prince Merlin," she called in a soft, but firm, tone, "Their Majesties are here."
The heads of both boys shot up instantly and turned in their direction, and Uther felt two pairs of blue eyes fall on him. Arthur's eyes were the blue of Ygraine's, a light, cornflower color, but Uther was more stirred by the eyes of his younger son. His eyes too were blue, but they were a deep, bright color that in no way came from the de Bois'. No, those were eyes that Uther had only ever seen once before, in the face of a man who had died long before Merlin had been born.
But Uther didn't like to think too long on his dead older brother.
His sons' gaze only rested on him briefly before turning toward Ygraine, and Uther felt a small twinge in his heart when he saw their round faces light up as they stared at her. They both jumped out of their seats, but when Merlin took a step toward their mother, likely to throw his arms around her greeting, Arthur reached out and caught his younger brother by the shoulder. He leaned over and hissed something in the other boy's ear, which caused Merlin to immediately straighten and adopt a far graver expression, though he could not entirely quell the gleam of excitement in his eyes.
Uther was pleased by the display. It seemed that, even at the age of only ten, Arthur had the gift of commanding obedience. It was even better that he could command the obedience of his younger brother. The fewer ideas Merlin got about his own superiority, the better, in Uther's opinion.
The boys approached them slowly, in the most dignified manner they could muster, and bowed. "Your Majesties," Arthur greeted them, "we are honored by your visit today."
Ygraine beamed at them. "We thank you for your kind reception," she replied. For several moments, there was a silence, and then she stepped forward and held out her arms to them. Neither of the boys needed any further encouragement to rush forward into their mother's embrace. Uther watched this interaction intently. He had never quite established such a close bond with either of his sons as his wife had, and while Arthur in particular was always pleased to see him, he never behaved with him as he did with his mother.
Both of his sons preferred their mother's company to his. Uther tried not to take it as an affront, but it was hard not to sometimes.
Clearing his throat, he caught the attention of his family. Arthur instinctively straightened, letting go of Ygraine and standing as tall as he could beside her, but while Merlin turned his face toward him, he did not let go of his mother. Nor did Ygraine let go of him. "We have news for you," he informed them. "As you know, Lord Gorlois died in battle against Caerleon some weeks ago. He left behind his lands and his young daughter, the Lady Morgana." Uther was relieved that his voice remained even despite his throat tightening yet again as he thought of the beautiful little girl he had never seen and had only heard about through the stories that Gorlois had imparted on occasion.
"She lost her father," Merlin murmured as he snuggled closer to Ygraine. "That's sad."
Uther nodded absently. "Lord Gorlois' lands will be seen to by a distant relation of his, as well as his stewards, but the Lady Morgana cannot be left in Cornwall by herself. We have decided to bring her to Camelot to live with the royal family. It is the least we can do to repay Lord Gorlois' exemplary service to the kingdom."
Arthur stared at him, a pensive expression crossing his features. "She'll live with us, Father?" he asked.
Uther inclined his head. "Yes, Arthur, she will." He gave him and Merlin both stern looks. "I expect nothing less than your very best behavior when she arrives. She will undoubtedly be grieving and sad, and I will be very… upset… if I discover that either of you has behaved badly toward her in any way. You will certainly gain yourselves a switching, at the very least. Am I clear?"
"Yes, Father," Arthur answered promptly, and his response was echoed by Merlin a scant moment later.
"Good," Uther said, satisfied. He watched as his wife and sons turned their attention to each other. Arthur and Merlin led their mother to the table, clearly intent on showing her what they had been working on prior to her arrival. Leaving them to that occupation, Uther turned his attention to Hunith, who had been standing and silently observing the scene. "Hunith," he said, motioning for her to come closer.
The woman reacted swiftly, a mark of a good servant. She approached him, curtsying out of respect. "How may I be of service, Sire?"
He stared at her closely. Hunith was no beauty, it was true, though she could be considered pretty. What impressed Uther more, however, was that she had an honest face. He was certain that any lie would show in her features. It was a relief, knowing that he would always have a truthful account of what went on in the nursery. It wouldn't do, after all, to not be aware of any serious mischief that occurred.
"Have the princes' behavior been satisfactory? No misconduct?" he asked.
Her face didn't so much as twitch uncomfortably as she replied, "The princes have behaved in an exemplary manner, Sire. They are both a credit to you and Queen Ygraine."
Uther nodded. "Good, good," he said slowly. He glanced over at his wife and sons. After seeing them completely engrossed in their own conversation, he turned back to Hunith and asked in a lower tone, "And there have been no signs of Prince Merlin doing anything… unnatural? No unseemly displays of magic?" He hardly wanted to chance the news that his younger son was a sorcerer – or a warlock, since Gaius kept insisting that there was a difference between the two terms – getting out to the ears of his nobles and the common folk.
Hunith didn't hesitate. "Prince Merlin has behaved with perfect decorum, and has adhered to all of the strictures that will make him an excellent young man when he is grown."
"That's really sad," Merlin said to his brother some hours later, as they readied for their evening meal. It wouldn't be long before the servants brought their food in on trays from the kitchens.
"What is?" Arthur asked as he wiped his wet hands on a towel.
Merlin was busy washing is own hands in the bowel of warm water Hunith had provided for them. "That Lady Morgana's father died. She doesn't have a mama either. Mama said so."
Arthur nodded. It was sad. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have his parents and his brother, and it sounded like the girl didn't have anyone now. "That's why Father wants us to be extra nice to her," he reminded his younger brother. "She's probably really sad right now, so we can't do anything to make her even sadder."
Merlin nodded as he took the towel that Arthur held out to him. As he wiped his own hands, they heard the doors to the nursery open again. Within moments, Arthur could smell the scent of the food that had been brought in for them. Venison, warm bread, and… cooked cabbage. Arthur grimaced at the smell, and he saw his little brother wrinkle his nose.
They reluctantly began to cross the room towards the table where the servants and Hunith were laying out the food. Suddenly, Merlin turned toward him and asked, "Do you think Lady Morgana hates cabbage too? I bet she does. Who likes that?"
"Father does," Arthur felt compelled to point out, but it was hardly a strong point. Father was an adult. Adults were strange.
Merlin knew this, and he gave him a knowing look. When they finally reached the table, the servants stepped back, letting them climb into their chairs. There was far more food on the table than Arthur had initially thought. The meat was there, mixed in with the soup, along with the bread, some cheese, and some fruits. There was even a pitcher of cold milk too.
Unfortunately, there was also the cooked cabbage as well.
Arthur made a face, but knew better than to refuse to eat the offending vegetable. If he and Merlin refused to eat it, Hunith would be upset with them. If Hunith got upset, she'd tell Mother, and then Mother would be upset too. They might even earn a switching, if they kept refusing.
No, it was better to just eat the offending food first and get it over with. There were lots of better-tasting foods to be eaten anyway.
As Arthur forced himself to eat the cabbage, Merlin followed his example from his spot across the table, making a sour face as he did so.
After forcing the majority of the cabbage down, Merlin looked up at him. "I think Lady Morgana won't like cabbage," he said again. "And she'll be sad about her father. She shouldn't have to eat food she doesn't like when she's sad, should she?"
Arthur stared at his brother, trying to understand why his brother kept harping on the subjects of the Lady Morgana and cabbage, of all things. She probably didn't like cabbage, yes, but few people did. Arthur and Merlin certainly hated it, and ate it only to avoid… being… His eyes widened in realization.
Merlin grinned at him proudly. Clever little brother, Arthur thought fondly. Out loud, he replied, "No, no she shouldn't. So maybe we should tell Cook not to send us any cabbage for a while?"
"Exactly!" Merlin beamed.
The white gleam of Camelot, bright in the late autumn sun, hurt her eyes. Everything was too bright, too shiny here in the heart of the kingdom. Letting the heavy canvas drop, Morgana leaned back and closed her eyes. She buried her face in the cushions in the litter that carried her closer to this bright citadel that her cousin, a man she barely knew, had told her was to be her new home.
She didn't want to come here, where everything was bright and loud and shiny. She wanted to be at home, in Cornwall, in the castle by the sea where everything was grey and dark and soothing. She wanted to be with her nurse, Branwyn, in her chambers. She wanted the servants she had been surrounded by her whole life. She wanted the distant roar of the sea pounding against the rocky cliffs.
She wanted her papa.
Tears welled in Morgana's eyes and she hiccupped in the attempt to suppress a sob. It felt like she'd cried every day since the red knight with the golden dragon on his chest had ridden into the courtyard of her home, bearing the news that Papa had died in battle. It wasn't fair! Papa was all she had, since her mother had died when she was barely more than a few months old. Why did he have to die on some battlefield against some mean old king who couldn't mind his own business in his own kingdom?
None of it made any sense to Morgana, but that didn't seem to stop the world from continuing on. Within a week of learning of her papa's death, one of her father's distant cousins rode into the castle's courtyard and informed her that she wouldn't be staying, but would rather be traveling to Camelot to become the ward of the King.
Morgana didn't want to be the ward of the King. She wanted to simply be Morgana, daughter of Gorlois, heir to Cornwall.
No one seemed to care about what she wanted. That was why she was in this litter, moving ever closer to that too bright castle that was full of strangers, even if some of those strangers were friends of her papa. Papa had told her about them, of course, about good King Uther and pretty Queen Ygraine, about their two sons, Prince Arthur and Prince Merlin, who weren't much younger than her. He even mentioned wise Alice and Gaius, the royal healer and physician respectively, who always looked after everyone and made them better when they were sick.
They hadn't been able to save Papa, though.
Morgana was so lost in her sorrows that she barely noticed when the litter came to a wobbling stop. There were voices coming from outside the canvas, deep, male voices. Suddenly, the canvas was pulled up, letting the sunlight pour into her litter. Morgana whimpered and shrank back from the sudden burst of light. She didn't even try to make out just who it was that was staring at her.
"Morgana?" It was a man's voice, someone perhaps around her papa's age, but Morgana still didn't look up, even as she registered the concern in his tone. She didn't want to see, didn't want to face the world waiting for her outside.
Again, she didn't seem to have a choice. Hands grasped her gently, pulling her up from the cushions and towards the light outside of the litter. Morgana moaned in protest, but she was plucked out nonetheless. Stubbornly, she squeezed her eyes shut against the light, and when strong arms wrapped around her, arms so like Papa's, Morgana curled into the embrace, burying her face in the person's neck.
The person carrying her began to walk. He walked for a long time, going up steps, through doors and into some kind of building, up more steps, through more doors. Morgana could hear voices, some soft and feminine, while the other, the one of the person holding her, was deep and masculine. It rumbled in his chest, just like Papa's.
Careful hands placed her down on a soft surface, and began to tug at her dress. Morgana thought about fighting – Papa had given her the dress, she wanted to keep it, so it would be like he was still with her – but she was tired, so tired. There was no strength in her to fight, so she simply gave in. The dress was removed, only to be replaced by the warm, soft material of a nightgown. Hands guided her to lie back, and she found herself resting against thick, fluffy pillows.
Sleep, mercifully, came quickly.
Uther stared down at the child lying in the bed, still as death. This poor thing, this poor, miserable, grieving girl was his daughter. His daughter. She was here at last.
Even though her face was tear-streaked and her nose glistened from snot, Morgana was still beautiful. Gorlois had crowed about how lovely she was, calling her the image of Vivienne, but he still hadn't managed to do her justice. Uther was sure he saw more than the girl's mother in her appearance. No, he didn't just see Vivienne in Morgana's face. He saw his own mother.
It was exhilarating, truthfully. Arthur was the image of the de Bois', and Merlin… well, he looked so much like Aurelius that it still gave him shivers. To see his dead brother staring out at him from the face of his son was no happy thing. It was wonderful to see that the appearance of another of the Pendragons had been passed on. Morgana was the image of her grandmother, and it warmed Uther's heart.
Whispers coming from behind him distracted Uther from continuing his catalog of his daughter's appearance, and he turned, a little irritated by the interruption. Standing in the doorway, Uther found, were both of his sons, their eyes wide and curious as they focused their combined gazes on the bed behind him.
"Father," Arthur whispered, as if sensing that it would be wrong to speak very loudly, "is that her? Is she here now?"
Uther glanced behind him. Morgana hadn't been awakened by the arrival of her half-brothers, thank goodness. Turning back to the boys, he nodded tersely. "Yes, and she is very tired. Her journey here has been a long one and she needs to rest." He gave them a stern look. "I trust you two won't run about like heathens and disturb her?"
Arthur shook his head furiously. "No, Father," he replied. "We'll be quiet."
Uther watched his elder son begin to move away, but the younger did not. Merlin's eerie eyes remained focused on the bed. "Is she sick?" the boy asked quietly. "Maybe she'd like some soup. Cook's soup always makes me feel better when I'm sick."
The king ground his teeth in frustration. He knew, logically, that the child meant well, and was indeed making a suggestion that would be perfectly valid under most circumstances. To be perfectly honest, however, he simply wanted a moment alone with his daughter, to not be disturbed by anyone. "Get back to your studies," he growled. That was all Arthur needed, thankfully, and he grabbed Merlin's arm and dragged him away.
Hunith, who had been silent for some time after having assisted in getting Morgana out of her traveling dress and into the nightgown, curtsied and followed her other charges out of the room. Clearly, she knew when her task was finished and she was no longer required. That left Uther and Morgana alone.
He turned back to the bed, sitting down in the chair that had been placed next to it and again staring at the sleeping girl. Uther knew he should leave her be, let her rest in peace. He also knew he had his own duties to attend to, since the running of the kingdom didn't just halt because his new ward had arrived in the citadel. It was for the best, really.
But he couldn't. He couldn't leave, didn't want to leave. He didn't even want to take his eyes off of her.
His daughter. Here at last.
As shameful as the thought was, Uther believed it was like a miracle.
Reaching out tentatively, Uther brushed a curl away from Morgana's face.
My dearest child, he thought tenderly, you may not know it, but you are home. Nothing will separate you from me, ever again. All will be well, you'll see. I promise you that.
Merlin and Arthur didn't see much of their new foster sister in the first few days after she came to Camelot. They'd seen her briefly when their father had burst into the nursery, carrying her straight to the small bedchamber that had been cleared for her before she'd arrived. Unfortunately, Father hadn't let them look at her more closely. After that, Hunith had been taking care of her, dragging her off to the seamstresses every morning to be fitted for new clothes and other girl things that were rather a mystery to Merlin. He and his brother had been left mostly in the care of their tutor, an older man named Lucius.
It wasn't until the fourth afternoon after her arrival that Merlin and Arthur actually got to share a meal with her. They'd paused in their studies to eat a small afternoon meal of bread, cheese, and fruit, and were surprised when the door to Morgana's chamber opened and she stepped into the large common room, Hunith a step behind her.
Merlin was surprised to see how different Morgana looked. From what he'd seen of her when Father had first carried her into the nursery, she'd been wearing a plain grey dress and her hair had been a mass of tangles. Now, she wore a pretty green dress that actually looked a little like the ones Mama sometimes wore, and her hair was now brushed and looked quite nice. Curly, but nice.
Hunith led Morgana over to the table and Arthur slipped off of the bench. Merlin hurriedly followed his brother's lead, and he and Arthur bowed to Morgana, just as they were supposed to when they were in the company of a lady.
Hunith smiled, clearly pleased that she hadn't had to prompt them to stand up to greet them. "Lady Morgana," she said, "this is Prince Arthur Pendragon, and his brother, Prince Merlin. Your Highnesses, this is Lady Morgana of Cornwall."
Merlin let Arthur speak for them, as always. It was only right, since Arthur was older and would be king someday. As his brother welcomed Morgana to Camelot and to the nursery, Merlin smiled at her, hoping he looked friendly. He didn't want word to reach Father that he hadn't been kind to Morgana who, from the solemn expression on her face, was obviously still very sad.
"Thank you," she said softly once Arthur stopped speaking. "I… I'm grateful for your welcome."
There was a moment of silence as Merlin eyed Morgana carefully, and she eyed him and his brother just as warily. Finally, Merlin looked down at the table and the food that had been laid out there. "There's no cooked cabbage," he pointed out to her.
She followed his gaze and her lips twitched a little. "Good. I don't like cabbage."
Merlin couldn't help but throw a grin in his brother's direction. Arthur rolled his eyes and reached out to ruffle Merlin's hair. He loved being right!
It wasn't so bad at all, having Morgana in the nursery, Arthur discovered. He'd been a little worried about what it might mean, but other than Hunith having a girl to look after along with him and Merlin, nothing much seemed to change in their routines.
Morgana was sad and listless a lot of the time, but she seemed to be putting on her best brave face. She didn't say much unless she was spoken to first, and she was always polite whenever Merlin spoke to her, which Arthur approved of. A lot of times people were short with his brother, probably because he was the younger prince and wasn't their future king, so he was glad that Morgana wasn't following that example.
Merlin seemed to be on his way to liking her very much, as Arthur discovered about a week after Morgana joined them. It was a rare time when the three of them were left to their own devices, since Hunith was one room away, supervising the maids that had come in to clean and gather up the laundry.
Morgana was slipping back into one of her sad states, her pale green eyes growing distant as they sat at the table, their books and parchment spread in front of them. Arthur was watching her, uncertain as to what to say. Merlin watched her too, but he seemed to have an idea of what to do. "Morgana," he said suddenly, his voice low, "do you want to see something pretty?"
She blinked, surprised by the interruption of whatever she was thinking about. Arthur watched her focus her gaze on Merlin, and he thought he saw a small gleam of curiosity enter her sorrowful gaze. She nodded silently.
Merlin beamed and, after glancing around carefully to make sure no one else was there to see, he held out his hand, which was closed in a small fist. He breathed a small sigh, and then opened his fist, releasing a group of colorful butterflies. The little things flittered around them for several seconds, before making their way over to dance about Morgana's wild curls.
Arthur shook his head at such a girly display. Under other circumstances, he would have teased his brother for magicking up butterflies, of all things, but in this case, it seemed just what was needed. Morgana gasped at the show, and as the butterflies fluttered around her, a large, happy smile spread across her round face. It was perhaps the happiest Arthur had ever seen her look.
"They're beautiful!" she exclaimed, reaching out toward the butterflies. They darted back, away and out of her reach, only to resume their flighty dance about her head. Morgana watched them for another moment, clearly enchanted, before her eyes riveted themselves back on Merlin, who looked rather pleased with himself. "You can do magic!"
Merlin nodded proudly. Arthur admitted to himself that he was also proud of his brother's special ability, even if other people weren't. He'd lost count of the times Merlin had made the stars shine brighter in the sky from their window, making it easier to identify the constellations that their tutors tried to make them remember.
Arthur didn't know why his father so disliked Merlin's magic, but he knew he did. Nearly all of the spankings that Merlin received were on account of it. Arthur was pretty sure that if their father could switch the magic out of Merlin, he'd do it in a second. Arthur just didn't understand why, though. Not when Merlin's magic did nice things, like make Morgana not be so sad.
It didn't make sense, but then, few things outside the nursery did.
"They're nice, Merlin," Arthur said out loud, "but you should make them go away now. No one's supposed to see," he reminded his brother.
Merlin glanced away from the butterflies and toward him, and then nodded. A look of regret flashed across his face, but he flicked his fingers at the butterflies, and they promptly vanished, leaving only a small shower of bright sparkles, which fell down around Morgana, much to her delight.
"Pretty!" she said, her face alight with glee. She and Merlin shared beaming smiles.
Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head. Girls, the both of them.
Still, he couldn't deny that Merlin's silly display had cheered Morgana up quite a bit. She seemed to shake off her previous sadness for the rest of the day as they finished their schoolwork and ate their supper. It was when the meal was being cleared by the servants, supervised by Hunith, of course, that the door opened to reveal that they had visitors.
Arthur quickly leapt to his feet when he saw his parents, and was pleased to see Merlin do the same, and was even more pleased to see his brother wait quietly instead of leaping forward to hug their mother. It was all well and good to do that in private time, but it wasn't private time when Father came to visit. Father expected him and Merlin to show proper de… de… decorum, that was the word.
He and Merlin bowed to their parents, exchanging all the proper greetings with them. Out of the corner of his eye, though, Arthur was alarmed to see that Morgana hadn't gotten up to greet the king and queen, as was proper. The one time Arthur and Merlin hadn't done that when they knew they should, they'd received a switching from their father and a disappointed lecture from their mother. Casting his eyes worriedly between Morgana and his parents, Arthur tried to discreetly motion for her to get up from the bench. Morgana paid him no mind, however, and instead just smiled in his parents' direction.
Arthur tried to hide a cringe. She's in for it now, he thought, trying to brace himself for what would undoubtedly be a sharp reprimand from his father.
It never came. Instead, the king strode forward, a beaming smile on his face, and knelt at Morgana's side, not even glancing in Arthur and Merlin's direction. Ygraine also smiled at them, and motioned for them to sit back down, which they did.
"How are you today, Morgana? Have you been feeling a little better?" he asked.
She nodded happily enough. "Yes, Sire, a bit." She cast a happy smile at Merlin. "And it's all thanks to Merlin's magic! He showed me pretty butterflies!"
Arthur froze in his seat, and could feel Merlin gasp and shudder beside him.
Oh no.
Ygraine didn't have to see her husband's face to recognize the way his shoulders tightened. This wasn't what she'd hoped to have happen during their visit today. She'd hoped for a calm, happy gathering for a few hours, hoped that they might share a lovely time with the children. In truth, she'd been a little excited to get to know the young Morgana better, since Ygraine hadn't had the chance to spend much time with her since her arrival.
Now, though, with the revelation that Merlin had used his magic – something Uther had outright forbidden – Ygraine knew that there would be no chance for that. She stepped forward, hoping to stem the tide of her husband's fury, and gave Merlin a stern, reproving look. "Merlin? Have you been using your —"
She didn't get a chance to scold her son, when Uther abruptly stood up and moved around the table in two large strides, cutting her off. "Morgana," he said in a cold, furious tone that Ygraine knew he reserved only for treasonous nobles and envoys of kings who attacked his kingdom, "if you will excuse me and Merlin for a moment." Uther didn't wait for Morgana to reply before grabbing Merlin, who had been sitting next to Arthur with a white, fearful face, by the arm and jerking him off the bench. Ygraine noticed the young girl shrink back, fear crossing her features as she watched Uther.
Merlin cried out at the rough movement, and Ygraine's stomach dropped. Uther was angry, and clearly his grip was harsh on their son's arm. "Uther," she started to protest, following them.
He brought his free hand up in a sharp, dismissive gesture. "No, Ygraine," he snapped, "you've coddled him enough, and no good has come of it. He is still using his magic! He could have hurt Morgana!" He shook his head and started toward the door to Merlin's bedchamber. "Clearly, being soft with him has not solved the problem. I —"
A loud, shrill shriek stopped Uther's growing rant in its tracks and both Ygraine and Uther whirled back toward the table. She was horrified to see that Arthur had lunged across the table and sunk his fingers into Morgana's curls, yanking on them, hard. Morgana, in turn, was trying to pull his hand free, which only added to the pain and her tears.
"Arthur! St —" Ygraine was yet again interrupted, only this time it was because her husband had dropped Merlin's arm and shoved past her. His hand flew through the air, cuffing Arthur about the head and knocking him away from Morgana. "Uther!" Ygraine cried out, horrified, as Arthur tumbled off the bench and hit the stone floor. Uther had spanked the boys in the past, of course, but he'd never struck either of them in such a manner.
Uther paid her no heed, however, instead sitting down on the bench next to Morgana. He ran his hand over her head, muttering soothing words to her. Ygraine could only gape as the girl whimpered and buried her face in Uther's neck and he focused on her exclusively, as though he hadn't just bruised one son and struck and knocked the other to the ground. What was happening here, exactly?
Ygraine finally shrugged off her shock and knelt down next to Arthur and Merlin, who had rushed to his brother's side the moment he had hit the floor. Her eldest son's eyes were wide with shock, but she saw the grim, determined set of his jaw, and saw the way he was carefully nudging Merlin behind him. Suddenly, she understood. Arthur had lashed out at Morgana deliberately, to redirect his father's ire.
She shivered. Ygraine had been raised in a strict family, but a loving one. Even when her father had disciplined her or her brothers, there had never been any doubt of his love for them, nor had they dreamed that he'd truly hurt them. Uther had punished both of the boys before in the past, and yet neither of them had deliberately tried to interfere in such a manner, to bring their father's wrath down upon them instead of the other.
Arthur had seen something in Uther, something Ygraine hadn't, and it had driven him to protect his brother.
Why should her sons ever have cause to truly fear their father? When had things changed so that something like this would happen?
She didn't have a chance to ponder this when Uther began to stand up. He gently loosened Morgana's frantic grip on him, even as she tried to keep hold, and got off the bench. His eyes focused on Arthur, and Ygraine shivered at the cold rage in them. "Arthur, Merlin," he said, his tone full of menace. Both the boys faced their father bravely, but Ygraine could see their hands shaking. They were terrified, but still faced him with every bit of courage that they had.
Uther said nothing more, instead only nodded toward the door that led to Arthur's chambers. To their credit, Arthur and Merlin didn't shrink from the obvious message, but the fear and dread on their faces was heartbreaking. Nonetheless, they stepped forward to meet their fate, disappearing from the room. Uther followed them wordlessly, leaving the door open just a crack.
The first crack of the belt against flesh was loud in Ygraine's ears, and her hand flew up to her mouth to stifle her own cry. Uther had never used the belt against the boys without at least the semi-protection of their trousers before. The second made her flinch. The third brought a muffled grunt from inside the room. It was Arthur. The fourth brought a slightly higher pitched whimper. It was Merlin.
The cracks continued, the fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, ninth, and finally, the tenth.
There was a pause of several seconds, and Ygraine slowly forced herself to her feet. As the cracks began again, this time for Merlin, she noticed that Morgana was still cradling her head where Arthur had pulled her hair. For that matter, she was still sniffling and crying, though her wide eyes were glued to the door through which Uther and the boys had disappeared.
Irritation filled her. For goodness' sake, she was still crying over having someone yank on her hair? Ygraine had had her hair pulled many times as a child – she had made a point of pulling Tristan's hair just as hard – and she had never made such a fuss! Even if Arthur's actions were reprehensible, it surely could not hurt so much that she was still crying over it. The sting must have faded by now.
"For God's sake, girl," Ygraine snapped, "stop sniveling! There's been enough trouble with you telling tales!"
Morgana's eyes whipped to her, and they seemed to widen even further as she shrank away. Ygraine felt a small pang of guilt for frightening the girl, but didn't acknowledge it further when the door opened and the boys and Uther reappeared, the latter grimly satisfied and the former two pale and shaking. As they came to a halt, Uther turned to face the boys again. "No magic," he growled at Merlin. Next, he turned to Arthur, adding in a tone that was little more than a hiss, "Lay hands on her again, and it will be twenty lashes instead of ten."
Uther didn't even look at Ygraine then, just turned on his heel to Morgana. He picked her up, lifting her off the bench, and carried her out of the nursery without another word, leaving her and the others to deal with what had just happened.
