JMJ
Alrighty! Second chapter here. I hope it's to y'all's satisfaction. Though I haven't introduced Merlin yet, I hope that you are picking up the references to people who shaped Arthur into who he is when he met Merlin. Childhood friend who is skinny and adventurous, tutor who calls it like it is etc. All of these people would have reminded Arthur of them when he met Merlin I really truly believe that in Merlin, arthur found the first real and lasting connection with someone. He was intimidated by his father, sort of competitive and intimidated by Morgana's assertiveness, and really wasn't allowed to have friends. Surely all of that is what made Arthur so accepting of Merlin's rude and improper behavior. I have also known many young men who are feeling and kind but who didn't have close parental bonds, siblings to rough house with, and they generally expressed their emotions and affection like Arthur through pranks and light physical attacks. I once heard a woman loudly declare that any man who is not emotionally developed enough to talk about his feelings was an overgrown man-child and should not be allowed to hold any position of power. Frankly I think this woman had her own problems but I think she is very wrong! There is no shame in being less emotional or sensitive, that's just a part of who you are and you should never let anyone change that. Anyway, enjoy!
Beth
12 Years Old
Arthur lay back on his bed, arms crossed beneath his head and gazing up at the tapestry than hung over the frame. A knight, arrayed in shining mail was fighting a fierce-some crawling beast with a ribbon like tongue that wreathed around the warrior's head. The warrior was making a bellicose shout as he fought for his life. Suddenly a voice carried through Arthur's room, seeming to come from the shouting knight.
"Arthur!"
Arthur rolled his eyes and continued to look at the tapestry.
"Arthur Pendragon!"
The prince snorted at the sight of the knight apparently yelling in anger at him, but the smirk was wiped off his face by a shirt landing on his head. His tutor was standing at the foot of his bed, doing his best impersonation of a boiling pot.
"Your manservant told me that you refused to rouse yourself and get dressed. The young Lady Morgana will be arriving soon and it is your duty to welcome her with your father!"
Arthur knew he was being childish and stubborn and a part of him was angry at himself for that but mostly he was tired of running around playing his father's pet diplomacy tool. Here's my 12 year old son, isn't he so adorable when he thinks he's a knight and talks about honor and fighting in tournaments? He'd had enough for the week and was getting tired of it.
"Remind me why I should care again?"
"And remind me when you're going to grow up?"
Arthur propped himself up on his elbows, angered that he had been called out for his behavior.
"Are you still alive?" He cringed internally as he finished, realizing how childish it sounded coming out.
The old tutor, shoulders now further stooped with age just smiled a sly griin and said in response.
"Are you still a child?"
"When are you going to treat me with the damn respect I deserve!"
"When you actually earn my damn respect."
With that scathing comment the pair of trousers landed on the pillow beside him, one leg trailing over his face, and the tutor stormed out.
It was unacceptable for anyone to speak to a member of the royal family in such a way, but in reality Arthur needed someone to talk to him with such brutal honesty, and he knew that. His father was emotionally cut off from him at all times, as he knew a king must be. The servants treated him with kid gloves, tip toeing around him like he might throw something at them or order them arrested. He was beginning to turn into a little tyrant, and even at his young age, Arthur was aware that without his tutor he might turn out to be a rotten person. This created a strange power dynamic where he wanted the tutor to chastise him but he wanted to push his boundaries and punish the tutor for trying to reform him.
Arthur slunk out of bed with the wounded pride of a kicked dog
He donned a tunic with the crest of Camelot and made his way down to the courtyard. The king was already standing at the base of the steps when Arthur descended behind him.
"Father."
"Oh Arthur, excellent. I was hoping you would be here in time. I am relying on you to help the Lady Morgana feel welcome."
"Oh? Do I know her?"
Uther looked down in shock at his son who was squinting in the bright morning sun.
"Morgana...you know her. You've met before, surely. She's the daughter of Sir Gorlois and the Lady Vivienne. Sir Gorlois is one of my oldest friends and you WILL treat his daughter with respect. Especially given what the poor child has gone through."
Arthur frowned and turned to face his father, to ask exactly WHAT had she gone through when the trumpets blared announcing the arrival of the entourage. Four camelot royal guards rode around a sorrel mare with a small thin girl clinging to reins tightly.
Arthur remembered her suddenly. THAT Morgana. Last winter solstice he had shown her and a group of young royals about the castle and she had gotten in trouble for storming up to a guard watch tower despite the protests of the other young ones. She clambered out onto the edge to look out on the city below, but once at the top, she had become afraid but refused to let the other children help her down. Arthur, being the oldest and 11 years old was naturally expected to get her so he went out on the ledge and sat with her until she got the nerve to climb down. Looking at her pinched and worried face Arthur was suddenly transported back to that moment.
The horses entered the center of the courtyard and Uther walked forward with long strides. He held out his arms and the dark haired girl reached out her arms to him. With exceeding tenderness that surprised Arthur, having only seen his father be strict and harsh, Uther gently helped the girl down.
Morgana gave a shy smile up at Uther, but as she embraced him her face retreated back into its pinched appearance. Arthur locked eyes with her as she leaned against Uther's shoulder, and was taken aback by the harsh steel he saw in them.
Uther bent down and whispered something into Morgana's ear that Arthur couldn't hear, but her face relaxed a little and she gave him a beaming smile.
Arthur walked down the steps to join them, halted four paces back and bowed low over his right leg, sweeping his right arm up and out.
"Lady Morgana, it is a pleasure to see you again."
Uther led the girl over, keeping his arm around her shoulders firmly.
"Morgana, this is my son Arthur. You've met before I am sure."
"I do. He was kind enough to show me around last year. He and Camelot have not changed one bit." She said vaguely looking around the courtyard, but Arthur suspected she was actually looking beyond everything she saw.
Uther beamed the largest smile Arthur had ever seen him give and was seriously beginning to wonder if his father was feeling alright.
"Well," Uther declared, "I must attend to some matters of state but tonight we will eat together and Arthur please show Morgana to her room."
"Yes, father."
STAYING?
Arthur quickly learned from Gaius that Sir Gorlois had been killed and it had been the wish of her family that Uther be her legal guardian. That meant that the young girl was to be the ward of the king and a new member of the household. All in all, Arthur felt that it was a pleasant change. His father smiled and laughed, for the first time in a long time, and treated her like his own daughter. The servants doted on her and found her strong opinions and firm will endearing. They were constantly talking about her in the halls with such admiration and sympathy that he had to admit to himself that he was actually growing jealous. The jealousy was fleeting and he didn't hold it against her. After all, his jealousy was his problem not hers. After a few days of allowing Morgana to settle in, Arthur began to appear outside her door every day to invite her to a new activity, horse riding, sword fighting, falcon training.
The first time that he knocked on her door and asked her to join him was a little difficult to get her to agree.
"Hello. I was wondering if you might like to come riding with me? The stablemaster has already saddled our horses."
"Why did he saddle it if I didn't agree to come?"
"Well he did not know if you would I just told him to."
"And why is that?"
"Well, I..." Arthur struggled to form his thoughts he was so overwhelmed with this girl's seeming uncaring attitude. "I thought that after everything, you'd like a distraction. I mean girls like to go riding too...right?"
Suddenly Arthur wasn't so sure. He had never really spent much time around girls his own age.
Suddenly Morgana softly laughed and turned back around to go in her room.
"Let me get my cloak and then yes, I'll ride with you."
"So girls do like riding then?"
"Yes Arthur we do."
It did not take long after spending weeks together for Arthur to realize that Morgana was a troubled person. He had often heard the expression a troubled soul before, yet had never truly understood it until this time. He did enjoy her company, and having someone to talk to was such a relief. Yet she had a horrible competitive spirit that Arthur thought was quite unusual in a woman, and he didn't like competing with her in public on the odd chance that he should lose to her. Which, he had to admit, was quite often.
Her troubled nature would surface sometimes around Uther. He didn't fully understand it but he took it to be due to the death of her father. She would grow cold, isolated and irritable at unexpected times, drawing off to secluded places to be by herself. Most hurtful of all to Arthur was that she kept secrets. Morgana had things in her past that she would never share, and Arthur sensed that this would never change. He yearned to talk to someone openly and honestly, but when she only listened patiently and refused to respond then he'd feel a bit hurt.
Why couldn't she share with him? Why wouldn't ANYONE talk deeply with him?
These thoughts and more were slowly mulling in Arthur's mind and he could not shake the feeling. So, taking up a random book from a shelf he set out for the library in search of his tutor. They had not spoken in weeks. He taking a break in school while the weather was pleasant to get combat training and after their argument during Morgana's arrival they had not even crossed paths in the corridors. Arthur needed to speak with him, he needed someone to help him sort out his thoughts.
He would use the pretence of a question about the book to talk with him, and then he'd get the down to earth conversation that he knew he needed.
Arthur pushed open the heavy library doors and went in search of the corner his tutor always inhabited, surrounded by tall piles of books and rolling hills of scroll parchment. Arthur saw the back of his head peeping over the top of his chair.
" I need your help with some-."
The words died on Arthur's lips at the sight of his tutor's pale visage. Arthur felt his guts twist within him at the sight of those wrinkled hands clutched around a book, and the bald pate of his head reflecting the light from the window as it flopped forward.
He was dead. The questions that had been burning in Arthur's chest froze solid as stone, and deep inside he felt a part of him die too.
The next few minutes were a blur. He rushed to Gaius' quarters, dashing through the busy courtyard, unconcerned with his unprincely appearance as he streaked down the corridors. As he ran, as the walls around him rushed by, the colors began to blur and mix from the hot tears filling his vision. He was a servant, just a teacher who gave horrid work and even more horrid lessons. Why was it so horrible that he died?
Arthur arrived at Gaius' door and quickly wiped away the tears with his shirt sleeve. He rapped impatiently on the door until it swung inwards.
"Prince Arthur, what's wrong?"
"Gaius, I need you to-" Arthur's throat thickened and he found it impossible to continue.
"Yes?"
"My tutor is in the library, and I think..."
Gaius' eyes widened and he led Arthur to a seat.
Before he had even touched the chair tears began to stream down his face silently.
Gaius pressed a cup into his hands and rushed out the door with promises of returning.
Arthur wasn't sure how long he has there, but even in the privacy of an empty room he refused to acknowledge his tears with weeping and so they silently fell, dotting his tunic with wet spots.
Arthur wasn't thirsty, or even hungry but the cool drink helped clear his throat. Catching his grieving reflection in a mirror Arthur shook his head roughly, shaking his mind clear and downed the cup at once.
Just then the door slowly swung open and Gaius entered, his medical kit tucked sadly under one elbow.
"So, he's dead then?" Arthur asked simply. Hoping he sounded if not looked serene.
"Yes sire..." and then "He was a very old man..."
Arthur looked up and cried out in what was a laugh and a sob.
"I'm not a child Gaius, I don't need patronized to."
Gaius approached him directly and pulled out a stool across from Arthur.
"With all due respect sire, you are a child. It is perfectly healthy and natural for you to grieve him. You respected him very much and I know that despite his harsh manner of address, he was very fond of you."
Arthur shot out of his chair equal parts angry for being called grieving, and worried that he was about to break down in tears again.
"Thank you Gaius, for your swift assistance. I shall take my leave now."
Arthur went to walk and found that try as hard as he might he couldn't get his feet to move. He was rooted to the spot. Then tears began to fall, one after another, until Arthur raised his hand and holding his head quietly shook with sobs.
Gaius stood up and placed an understanding hand on the boy's shoulder, giving him something to lean against and waiting with him while he grieved.
Have any of you ever suddenly been so wracked with grief that you almost find yourself out of body emotionally disconected and amazed at your body for just breaking down in sobs or refusing to move?
Anyway, next chapter Merlin comes in. Although we will continue to have flashback intermittently with the current day Camelot scenes to draw out comparisons in Merlin and Arthur's friendship.
Beth
