6. Bridging the unbridgeable

Uther crumbled the parchment he held in his hands and absentmindedly pondered that, as much as he would have liked getting a letter from his son, he detested getting letters about him. Old Count Anwar of Llanfair had taken care of that. Full realization of what he had read came to the King a moment later.

"Sir Gawain" he roared which made the present commander of the royal guard virtually jump into the office. "You and an escort of eight will accompany me on a journey" Uther ordered. "Get ready!"

"When My Lord?" the knight asked in confusion for this made all of Uther's former orders obsolete. At the same time Geoffrey complained from the other side of the room. "But Your Majesty, your urgent appointments….the grand assembly of the full Council…"

"Yesterday, if you please" the King barked at Sir Gawain before he turned to his secretary. "Cancel them! I have more urgent business to attend to in Blanchefleur."

Geoffrey's face lightened up immediately. "The letter is from His Highness then?" he asked eagerly.

"No" the King growled. "It's from Merlin. Apparently my daughter in law has had some kind of a shock after my most august son had done something foolish. She went into labour and things didn't go all too well. When Merlin wrote this, Gaius had just taken care of her."

The secretary's face fell. He remembered Queen Igraine's death as if it had happened yesterday. So would Uther of course. And most of all, Igraine's child, as Arthur's birth had caused his mother's passing.

"But that must have been almost two weeks ago" Geoffrey said. "Whatever has happened, you will not be able to change it."

"For a warlock there are other than the normal ways to transport a message" Uther said while he feverishly sorted some documents on his desk without even looking at them. Geoffrey sighed inwardly at the thought of how long it would take to undo the mess the King was causing to his meticulous filing system.

"Actually this happened yesterday morning" Uther continued. "But you are right of course. As I am not a magician's letter I will need two weeks before I reach Blanchefleur.

As it was, it took him nine days which cost the entourage three horses and Sir Gawain the last of his nerves. The knight spontaneously sent a quick silent prayer to the Great Mother when they trotted through the manor's gates.

As was his duty as governor Antek awaited his liege on the front stair together with his officials and notables. He was more than a bit ruffled when Uther send them all packing with a few harsh words. The King was not in the mood for some friendly small talk and official reports. Right now the border countries with each and every one in them could go to hell for all he cared. "Where's my son?" Uther snapped at the young Count without as much as a 'good day'.

"He's upstairs, Sire. The physician insisted on him finding some rest."

"Is Gaius available?" the King asked.

Antek, who misread the implications of this question completely, almost snorted. Imagine the King of Camelot snuffing his whole staff as well as the governor himself, only to ask whether a commoner, a mere servant, might be 'available' to his master.

He's with Guinivere and the child" Antek said. "I'll show you the way."

Uther stopped in midstride. He had had an awful lot of time to prepare for the moment in which he would have to clarify his final attitude on his son's marriage and this occasion was as good as any. "If you refer to Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess of Camelot I'd advise you to do so properly in the future. For now I think a servant will suffice to lead the way. You are dismissed!"

One step later Uther had completely forgotten about Antek of Llanfair. The young Count, however, wouldn't forget this encounter until the day he died.

The King inhaled deeply before he opened the door. Gaius rose from the chair at the bedside, his face beaming with a radiant smile. "Your Grace! I had not thought you could make it that fast."

Through the semi-transparent bed-curtains Uther saw a female figure resting under the covers. "Is she….?"

"She's fine now" Gaius calmed him. "But she's had a very rough time which was why I wanted Merlin to call for you as fast as possible. It meant so much to her that you should be glad about her having Arthur's child."

"And the baby?"

"A fine, strong boy" Gaius said. "It would have been easier for her if he hadn't been that big, but you Pendragons have always been a strong boned lot, even Arthur, for all he's inherited his mother's finer looks." The physician bent down and lifted the child from the cradle.

Fascinated, almost dumbfounded Uther looked at his grandson. "He comes entirely after his mother" he said without thinking. It sounded more than a bit disappointed. Obviously the King had expected to see no less than his own image reborn in the child. Or at least Arthur's.

Gaius, who knew the special Pendragon blend of vanity and sense of entitlement, sighed inwardly. "Wait and see" he said when he saw that the child was about to wake up.

Uther gasped a bit in surprise when the little Pendragon finally opened his eyes. The contrast between the dark honey skin and the sky blue irises was striking. "Naturally the eyes can still change" Gaius said. "They often do in babies. But somehow I think these will stay with the little one. If they do, there's no doubt from whom he's got them."

The old healer used the opportunity and laid the boy in Uther's arms. All of a sudden the King found himself with more than a handful of young human being. To his surprise he also found that he had missed the feeling. "Dear me, he's really big. How could that be with a child that has been born prematurely?"

"Who said something about him being born prematurely? His mother carried him full term."

"But I thought….it's not even been eight months since their wedding."

Gaius closed his eyes. Oh, Uther! "And it didn't occur to Your Majesty that your son might have had a reason when he pressed for your permission for this marriage with some urgency?"

"How should I have thought of that? Nobody tells me anything these days." Satisfied that he had washed his hands of anything with this perfectly logical explanation Uther continued, virtually smirking from one ear to the other. "So the young saint some people think I have for a son wasn't above some moonlight courting, eh? Somewhat of a dark horse after all, His Royal Highness!"

This did it. Gaius lost his patience. "May I remind you that they travelled home together from Arenboarth's camp? Your daughter in law had thought, indeed we all had thought, that none of us would ever see Arthur again, at least not alive. So much for moonlight courting, Your Grace."

"How is it that everybody is so short tempered nowadays…" Uther began but he was interrupted by the little boy in his arms remembering his missing dinner. Gaius called for the wet nurse and handed the child over to her.

"Shouldn't his mother nourish him?" the King asked fractiously. "I've never been much of a believer in wet nurses."

"How unfortunate that your only child had to be brought up by one. To my certain knowledge it didn't do him any harm." Gaius said acidly. "But maybe we could discuss this in the other room. The young Lady here needs her rest."

Once safely behind closed doors Gaius turned towards his King somewhat exasperatedly. "Uther, I've told you she's had a very rough time. She will not nourish little Thomas and the child will have no siblings, except if Arthur, the Gods forbid, should ever turn to another woman. Do I make myself clear?"

"That rough?" Uther swallowed hard. For a moment he imagined his son standing at his wife's death bed. Like he had done when Arthur's mother had died. Then he distracted himself by some other thoughts. "Little Thomas, you say? Not exactly a Pendragon name!"

"No" Gaius replied. "It was the name of Guinivere's father. Arthur thought that, as the child's family name would be yours, his first name might be taken from the other side of the family. Besides, for some reasons beyond human understanding, your son found that one Uther Pendragon in a family line is more than enough."

All of a sudden Uther remembered that he had been responsible for the death of Guinivere's father. He dropped the uncomfortable subject immediately. "I take it Arthur's injuries weren't that serious?" the King said instead.

"A few scratches and some bruises, mostly from the fall off the horse. He finished two of the bandits off, singlehandedly as I've been told. The third one was no threat at all, a mere boy who had jelly knees before Arthur even came for him." Gaius washed his hands in a basin in the corner. "Didn't do the wretch any good, though" he continued. "Antek had him executed while Arthur was with his wife, as she had gone into labour this very night, a short while after his return."

"That was swift justice" the King said awkwardly. "And while the Crown Prince was in the house, if otherwise occupied? Peculiar definition of the proper protocol of the governorship I must say. It would have been for Arthur to decide on the lad's fate. Didn't he protest afterwards?"

Gaius shrugged. "I think I heard him and Antek quarrel a few days ago. Some hard words about bills and someone else's money. And about the hasty execution. But Antek apparently could redeem himself; there's no sign that Arthur bears him any grudges. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing" Uther said hastily. "Imagine my son falling from a horse. I think last time he lost control over his mount he was but seven years old and the mare was too big for him."

"Actually I was five and you had spooked the damn horse" Arthur said from the door. How long he had been standing there and how much of the conversation he had heard only Gaius would know, as he had been the one who had faced the door in Uther's back.

If Gaius had not known his King for almost a lifetime he would have sworn that Uther was nervous, if not scared when he turned to face his son.

"Arthur!"

"Father!"

Gaius watched the two bullheads and shook his head. For now he would have to be content that it hadn't been 'Your Grace' or 'Sire' from Arthur's side. With a silent nod at the Prince he left father and son alone, keeping his fingers crossed.

The healer left an awkward silence behind. Finally Arthur was the one who broke it. "Shall we go to the gardens?"

"Shouldn't somebody stay with your wife?"

The Prince raised his brow in surprise at the unexpected consideration. "Merlin might never be much of a doctor but he is more than capable to take care of her should she awake. Gaius will be back immediately." For the first time Arthur's face showed at least the touch of a smile. "But she'd have my hide if I left you stranded, now that you are here. She wanted so much to present our son to you."

"He's a very fine boy, little Thomas" Uther said tentatively on their way down. "You can both be proud of him."

"We are." Not a word more. Down the stairs, through the hall, through another corridor and the garden gate. Still nothing.

Finally Uther couldn't stand it anymore. "Arthur I know I haven't been the most considerate of persons when it comes to your marriage but this can't go on. If you can't find it in you to forgive me, there's still so much to be done. Your marriage, the acknowledgement of your child, your wife's investment as Crown Princess – it has to be settled. And soon."

"So now you are willing to get this done" Arthur said with bitter irony lacing his voice. "Thank heaven the little one is a healthy boy. Gives you some hope, doesn't he, even if his mother is a lowly servant girl, after I have been such a dead loss to you and Camelot!"

Uther stopped in mid stride. So this was it again. These idiotic, rash words, once spoken in blind anger and meant to hurt in this very second and then no more, had caused so much more damage than he had ever intended. A moment's foolishness and it would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Be reasonable Arthur, what's done is done. I never meant it in the first place. We were both mad at the time. Fact is that you must come back. There simply is no other choice. Rumours are flying all over Albion that we have fallen out with each other for good. Unrest spreads and every single malcontent claims to be acting on your behalf or at least in your interest. The realm is virtually coming apart at the seams. You have your duty to Camelot to consider!"

"I have a very good idea of what you regard as my duty to Camelot nowadays, Your Grace" Arthur replied acidly. "You do not want me back, you want to keep up appearances and most of all you want a second chance. The chance for a fresh start that Guinivere and I have provided you with. You do not want your son, you want your grandchild. The boy's parents are a necessary evil to you, nothing more."

For a second Uther thought the physical pain this false accusation caused him would be enough to pass out. He fought for breath while something in his chest cramped viciously.

"Arthur I've told you once that you mean much more to me than my kingdom, my crown and definitely much more than my own life. I meant it back then and I mean it today. But there's no time for this now. You must realize that the man who has got you has got Camelot. It was hard enough to convince the Crown Council to grant the governorship to Antek. But nobody, absolutely nobody can even begin to comprehend why you broke off with your father and liege only to willingly run to young Llanfair, of all people, the son of the man who dragged you through hell and back."

"Why shouldn't I forgive Antek the ruse he used to save my life? My wife has forgiven you for killing her father as well as for using her as a hostage against me. Merlin has forgiven you for sentencing him to death and torturing him. As has Gaius. Apparently the Druids have forgiven you for seriously trying to extinguish their kind." Arthur's whole demeanour spoke of another issue. That he had no intention of forgiving his father.

Uther's spirits faltered with every word from his son. Whatever devil had possessed him the day he had decided to send Arthur to old Llanfair's Blackrock stronghold might well have been the ruin of his life.

"Some minutes ago you said Guinivere would have your hide if you left me stranded. That she would welcome me here." The King knew he sounded like a whining, fractious child and he hated himself for it.

Besides, it had been the wrong thing to say to a young man who thought he'd tried his best to come to a reconciliation that others had talked him into while he himself was far from sure whether he wanted it or not. But when he had thought that his beloved wife was going to die he had promised her everything.

"Don't you dare use my wife against me; you have no right to hide behind her. You were the one who did not accept her; you had her father killed. You don't deserve her loyalty, you never did."

The King took a few deep breaths to calm down. How, from where he and his son had once started, had they ever reached this conversation?

"Do not punish yourself or your son for my sins, Arthur. No matter how you look at it, there's nothing else for it but to come back home with me, at least for a few months, to silence those who are spreading false rumours. My son, please, I beg of you, to not throw away everything we have ever worked for because I am a dead loss as a father!"

Breathless now by apprehension, Uther cut himself short. He had fired his last shot. If his son had any common sense left he'd know that his father would never come closer to an outright apology for his stupidity than he had come right now.

For a moment Uther thought that he had won. A shadow of uncertainty flickered over Arthur's face. "I still don't see why you can't destroy these idiotic rumours on your own" the Prince said. "After all, the fact that you came here and visited us and the child should be proof enough that we aren't enemies. Why can't you tell anyone that I've simply set up my own household and be done with it?"

"For the Gods' sake Arthur are you daft? Your own household in Llanfair's house, three hours away from Cendred's borders, five or six at most from the big estates of some of my most unreliable barons and their private armies? In Camelot they speak of treason and they mean you and you staying here. I've tolerated this nonsense long enough now. You are coming back with me and that's final."

Whatever understanding and empathy of his father's predicaments had touched Arthur before was now gone. That tone of voice he was familiar with; had been familiar with all his life and he had set his mind on never being bullied by it again. "Then I would suggest that Your Majesty gives order to clasp me in irons" he said viciously "as you have done before. For I swear to you and to any God who may hear me now, I will not set foot into Camelot again as long as you are King. If you want to force me you'll have to drag me and I swear I will fight you every step of the way."

There was no need to mention the consequences of such an act. To bring the Crown Prince in as a prisoner after all what had happened before was an impossibility. If the estranged Prince in his voluntary exile made a good figurehead for every rebellious soul in the realm, the helpless prisoner of an unbelievably cruel father would be a perfect one. Sooner or later this would end Uther's reign in shame and they both knew it.

They stared at each other, both pale with cold wrath, no longer a father and a son, but the present and the future ruler, two rivals. It was what the courtiers in Camelot had once called the Dragons' fight. Back then the older beast had been in the lone position of power. Uther looked at his heir and knew that these times had passed. He had threatened what he would not, indeed could not, make good on. For once his reach had exceeded his grasp.

"There's nothing more to be said then" the King said hoarsely. "With your permission I will see your wife and child once more before I leave tomorrow at noon. After all it was Guinivere who first invited me to come here."

To his surprise the Prince did not exactly enjoy seeing his father crestfallen and humiliated. For a second Arthur bit his lip in sudden embarrassment. "My wife is master of her own time. If she invited you then she will see you" he said more rudely than he had intended before he turned and left the older Pendragon standing where he was without another word.

Uther watched his son vanishing inside the house while his thoughts were racing through his mind. He knew he had lost more than a battle; he had lost a war. It was a feeling he hadn't known for decades. The King of Camelot was used to victory, not to defeat. However, he also knew the 101 of politics by heart. If one couldn't fight anymore one had to negotiate. If one's enemy refused to speak face to face one needed a mediator. How very convenient that Arthur Pendragon always came with the perfect mediator, free of charge.

Merlin! Uther would just have to talk with Merlin and everything would come out all right in the end, as if done by magic.

After all, for what else did one keep a Court Sorcerer around?

Deeply satisfied with his stout reasoning and shrewd scheming Uther began his search for the young magician.

But things never turn out the way one expects them to.

Even while the Pendragon King roamed the manor house disaster mounted fast horses and made its way towards Blanchefleur.

Meanwhile the little dove that had brought the message of Uther's arrival to its owner placidly picked its grain.