Rowan's miniature golden brown hands slapped Arthur's hard face as she squirmed and wriggled. Carefully she stood on his muscular thighs. Four little teeth appeared as she smiled happily at her father; her drool left large wet spots on Arthur's red tunic. Duran played quietly in front of a great stained glass window; his skin bathed in brilliant colors as the midday sun streamed around his small body. Merlin took Gwydre and Amhar on a long walk near the river. The boys tried Arthur's nerves. They were mischievous, stubborn, and sneaky. Arthur usually admired their ingenuity until they combined their minds and committed treason against him. Over the last three days, Arthur had bathed, fed, clothed, and tucked his four children in bed. He was tired; he would rather face a fierce magical beast. Every nursemaid in the kingdom refused to care for the Pendragon children. Gwydre and Amhar were naughty and wild. Camelot didn't posses enough gold to hire them. However, they would gladly take Duran and Rowan, but Arthur's philosophy was love all or none.
Arthur wondered why his brown eyed children were loving and sweet. But, Gwydre and Amhar were utter heathens. He didn't know if he could spend another day playing nursemaid to the children. How did Gwen do it? He had meeting; to conduct; he couldn't do it covered in Rowan's breakfast. She loved to sputter oatmeal out of her tiny mouth. She clapped when Arthur frowned and wiped his hands in anguish. She threw applesauce at Merlin. Merlin laughed and wiped her tiny hands with a soft cloth. Duran followed every direction and ate his meals without complaint. The other two complained that it wasn't like Mother's food. When was she going to be well?
Arthur smiled when Rowan placed a slobbery kiss on his strong jaw. "FA, FA," she cooed. She laid her small dark curly head on his shoulder. Arthur could feel her yawn. Softly, she sucked her thumb. Her warm body began to soften and she slowly drifted to sleep. Arthur cradled his baby girl in his arms as his eyes memorized her innocent perfection.
His thumb tenderly traced her eyebrows. Her rosebud mouth wriggled as her fist curled. Arthur wondered what his little darling was dreaming about. Arthur prayed that Rowan would never break his heart. Morgana caused Uther such pain with her betrayal. He never recovered from her deception; he died a broken hearted man longing for forgiveness from his adoptive daughter. Gwen with her kind heart urged Arthur to allow Morgana to return to Camelot. In loyalty to Uther, Arthur refused Gwen's request, which cause tension in their marriage. Arthur refused to give into Gwen's pleas over Morgana. Gwen could reason, beg, pout, or remain silent for days. Arthur remained stubborn on his opinion about Morgana. She would not influence their children. Never, would he suffer such pain as his father. Arthur pressed a light kiss on Rowan's cool forehead. Tenderly Arthur rose from his throne; he tucked Rowan into her crib. He wrapped a pink blanket around her slumbering body. He dropped in front of Duran and moved wooden toys along the marble floors. Duran smiled shyly as he climbed on his father's shoulders. Arthur wondered about Duran. He was so shy and delicate. He wished Gwydre and Amhar would include him in their games. Then, again, he couldn't deal with another naughty child.
"Father's mean and strict," Gwydre grumbled as he pitched stones into a shimmering blue lake. Merlin chuckled. Amhar sat on a wide white blanket smacking on plump ripe blueberries. Amhar knew that he pushed father this morning. He would cause mischief another day. Maybe, when Mother was better. She gave kisses; not mean looks like Father. He wiped blue juice stained hands across his white tunic.
"Gwydre, your father isn't mean."
"You always defend him!"
"No, I don't. It's a challenge to be king."
Gwydre tossed a stone roughly along the river calm waters. "That's all that I ever here. Is that my father is king! I want to be a good ruler. I just wanted to practice being king. Nobody understands except Mother. She can't talk to me. He doesn't care."
"He loves you."
"Sure." Gwydre stomped off to a thick path of trees. Merlin watched mini Arthur retreat to a moment of solitude. Gwydre wouldn't be easy. Everyone except so much of the child. Merlin would as he watched the little boy marching angrily into the woods; would he make a good father? Would his child love him?
Merlin wasn't the only person watching Gwydre. A small pair of blue eyes watched the young Pendragon wipe tears from his eyes as he leaned against a hundred year oak. A small cherry mouth smirked in jealously as she watched Merlin's eyes filled with concern. Her long dark hair hid the little girl from Merlin's prying eyes.
Morgana laid a pale delicate hand on Gwen's burning forehead. Her eyes closed as she uttered a few words to heal Gwen's sicken body. Dark things roamed Albion's' green pasture. Gwen would need to be alert to save their children.