A/N: Just to prove that I'm serious about working on this story more regularly from now on: It's a short chapter (at least for one of my stories) but it's a chapter. I hope you like it, as it was much fun writing it. I felt like a bit of humour after the darker plotline of "A future haunted by the past". I hope you like it anyway. Do not worry, there will be more angst and action coming in The Llanfair heritage, but for now - let's have a break from depression and fear, together with Uther King of Camelot!

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16. Peculiar proposals

"Are you completely out of your mind?" Uther looked at Cendred with widened eyes. "Marriage? You attack a village of innocent Druid peasants; you drag me here like a common criminal and all that because you want me to marry your sister?"

Cendred sighed in deepest possible frustration. How hilarious he had been when the news had reached him that Uther was with the Druids. 'Piece of cake' he had thought, but he hadn't reckoned with his involuntary guest's obstinacy. "Uther. Please. As I said: I'd rather your son married my sister. Arthur is much more suitable than an old man like you, but, face it, even if you knew your brat's whereabouts, you'd stand no chance to make him leave his whore!"

Uther turned red from wrath and mortification, as this was, unfortunately, very true. "If I'm such an unsuitable old crock, why keep me here?" he snapped.

"Frankly, if one of my sons behaved like your brat does, I'd have him in the stocks for a fortnight and give him a good, hard thrashing. Nothing like that to bring a boy to his senses." Cendred frowned when Uther rolled his eyes. "I brought my Gyrrin up that way and he's a fine boy. If he hadn't been born a bastard…."

"I'd not be here in the first place" Uther finished the other's sentence for him.

"You would do anything to secure the future of your boy" Cendred defended his cause heatedly.

"But not by marrying my sister off to a man whom I had to force into her bed!"

"I have no other choice if I want to see my boy succeed me on my throne" Cendred roared. "It's not my fault that my Gyrrin was born out of wedlock!"

Uther stared at him uncomprehendingly. "Then whose fault was it?"

"My wife's of course. Stupid good for nothing bitch. Whined every time I came near her bed."

Pendragon looked his counterpart over, a virtual mountain of a man, abounding in strength and temper, and then he remembered the King of Cymbria's late wife. A little mouse of a woman, 8 years her husband's senior and ailing since childhood. Whatever evil spirit had possessed Cendred's father when he had arranged that marriage for his son and heir, it had had no pity for the wretched female.

Cendred hit the nearest tankard with vicious force and it went flying until it rattled on the floor with a nerve-breaking sound. "You were lucky, your Igraine was a good woman, with pedigree, and everyone knows she adored you. She gave you a fine boy, even though he's obviously mad. Happens in these old families, doesn't it. Can't be helped."

"The Gods rest her soul" Uther said, voluntarily overhearing the snipe at Arthur's mental health. "Leave her out of this!"

Cendred rose from the table he had been sitting on – he rarely sat in a chair, they were too petite for him and his long legs – grabbed a bottle of strong liquor, filled two chalices, put the first one before himself and the other one before Uther with such a fierce bang that half the liquid was spilled, damaging the tender, fragile inlaid work of the hapless table beyond repair.

"C'me on, Uther. From one King to another. We both benefit from it. You have the great name, to back my Gyrrin up, I have a considerable army to back up you and your spoiled brat. Together we're invincible and after us, our boys can continue the good work. What say you?"

"If an alliance is what you want, why not sign a treaty and be done with it? What good does this idiotic marriage do?"

"I know you and your treaties, Uther Pendragon. You sly dog, you could swindle yourself out of a treaty you made with the devil himself. But not if my sister is breathing down your neck on every turn."

"And you would entrust this precious jewel to me, even if I hated her enough to strangle her with my bare hands at the first chance?" Slowly but surely Pendragon found some amusement in the situation. Haggling and bargaining was more than a part of a King's job description, to him it was a passion. He just loved doing it. As long as he got the better part of the bargain, of course.

Alas, this time the cards were stacked against him.

"I've my men roaming the region; every village, every place; sooner or later they will find your precious whelp" Cendred said with a smirk. "To give you and my sister some time to settle in, nice and quietly, your Arthur will be my guest. Until I see fit to send him home. Understood?"

"If you as much as lay a finger on my son …." Amusement gone Uther flared up in an instant. He was – secretly of course - worried sick about his son, in spite of all his anger and hurt about Arthur's desertion. But wherever the stubborn boy was, he was not in Cendred's claws and, right now, that counted for something. So Pendragon forgot all about the guards outside, the guards inside, the fact that he was unarmed and the almost 15 years Cendred was younger.

Due to the latter, the Cymbrian didn't need the help of his men to get a grip on his prisoner. "Would Your Majesty of Camelot be so kind as to most graciously have a look out of this window?" he hissed.

With clenched jaws Uther did as he was told. In the iron hold of two very determined arms, he had no other choice. As he had expected, the sight was a sorry one. Leon, Mirella, her brother and what assembly of human pawns wouldn't be complete without a certain dark-skinned young Lady with a baby on her arms.

"If I had become a Christian monk" Uther thought idiotically "as my old Aunt Tilda wanted me to be, I'd had a better life. Blackmail, worries, fear and pain – who was the idiot that said a son and a family are a man's comfort in his old age?"

Cendred tut-tutted sympathetically. "Fine child, your little grandson. Would be such a shame if he got lost. And what your precious Arthur would have to say about you sacrificing his child, and the little Lady – I wouldn't want to hear it. Would you?"

"What guarantees would I have that your sister does not strive for early widowhood as soon as we're married?" Uther pressed through gritted teeth.

"The guarantee that that's not in my best interest. Camelot might take offence at your premature demise. Your son might even shed a tear or two and after he's been crowned, remember me not too friendly. That's not what I want."

Cendred felt the other royal relax a bit and grinned. At last he was making headway. "Besides" he added silkily "As far as I know, you and your son are in some trouble. I could keep him out of mischief; you could easily explain to your Courtiers that he's another King's guest. Much easier than to explain he's with Llanfair. We both win. What's wrong about that?"

"If I can't win now, I need time to win later. It's always the same in such situations" Uther thought. "All right" he said. "You win! If your sister will have me, you can go on planning the wedding, as long as you leave my men and my family in peace."

Cendred virtually beamed with glee. "As soon as we've found your boy, we can have the wedding. It's all arranged."

"Heaven forbid that my son is also dragged into this trap" Uther thought once more. One Pendragon in the frying pan was more than enough for his taste. Well, two Pendragons actually, when the grandfather came to think of little Thomas. "What has Arthur to do with the wedding?"

The King of Cymbria shook his head with mock contrition. "Really, you ought to pay more attention to what I'm saying, dear brother in law. I've told you, no Arthur staying with me, no sister going with you. And without my sister, you're going nowhere!"

Before Uther could think of a fitting reply the door opened and a woman came in.

"Ah, Morgyan" Cendred smiled. "Please, dearest sister, meet your future husband. He's just been asking for your hand in marriage."

"Has he now" the Princess replied ironically. "Dearest Uther, if only I had known you love me such. Think about all those years we've wasted in futile longing."

Uther couldn't answer; he was busy gawking at her. Her long gold-blond hair, turquoise eyes, her perfect skin and her body. Gods, her body, wrapped tightly in layers of sea-green silk. Great Mother, you've created perfection! Who gave a damn about a bad reputation after one look at that figure? Suddenly the term 'worth dying for' made a whole lot of sense.

"She's but 25, speaks four languages, she plays the… the… whatever the darn thing is called. And she can handle her sword better than some of my knights. She hunts and shoots like a man. And I have no doubt that, once bedded, she could whelp like my best bitches!"

Cendred was about to rant on, he was incredibly fond and proud of his sister, almost as fond and proud as he was of himself and his sons, but Morgyan cut him short with an indulgent, even affectionate smile. "I think the King has caught your meaning, Ceddy."

Her calm, haughty gaze then washed over an enraptured Uther, he had yet to decide if it was a cool breeze or a cold shower, and she cocked a brow. "Do you think it speaks, Ceddy?"

"A few minutes ago he was perfectly able. We talked about postponing the wedding until his unfortunate son was found, and he agreed, didn't you, Uther."

"What?... Oh, yes. Yes that we did. I remember."

"How lovely" Morgyan smiled, yet her voice became sharp. "And Uther's sudden willingness has nothing to do with these people who are standing in the Court Yard until they drop from exhaustion?"

King Cendred, who knew his sister, this tone of voice and the long, arduous discussions he had had with her about the whole marriage scheme, cleared his throat nervously. "I was just about to give order to bring them in…."

"Into your dungeons, no doubt" Morgyan said coldly. "One woman pregnant and one with a small child on her arms! It's a disgrace for Cymbria and I'll have none of it, do you hear me, brother?"

"Of course, my dear. I'll see to it, at once. Maybe you'd like to have some words with your fiancé?" Now that he had got what he had wanted, Cendred wasn't fool enough to take any risks. Morgyan was fickle, she was headstrong – astonishing combination in his opinion, but then she was a woman – and she had yet to say 'yes' at the wedding ceremony.

"Don't trouble yourself, Ceddy, I've already given orders to take care of our guests. And as for further negotiations with Camelot, I gladly leave them to you."

As soon as she had left, Uther shook his head in awe. If it was awe he felt. "Not quite the cold hearted bitch everyone takes her for, is she" he said without thinking. He braced for the inevitable reaction to that insult only afterwards.

However, Cendred just shrugged. His sister's reputation was well known to him. "She has a mind of her own and she speaks it. Nothing wrong with that for a Princess of Cymbria. My men and servants worship her. If she says your son's common law wife and the Druids will be comfortable, they will be."

Uther swallowed when he heard his grandchild's mother being called by another word for concubine, but there were more important things to ponder right now. Especially how to fool his opponent into believing that the King of Camelot was completely at his mercy while His Pendragon Majesty indeed was making other plans.

Luckily, Cendred gave him the perfect opportunity to create a very diverting tempest in a teacup only a second later. "About my sister's dowry rights…." the Cymbrian King said, and Uther threw himself with much gusto into a most indignant tirade of rejection.

When he finally gave in, after having fought Cendred every step of the way, the Cymbrian thought he had won a momentous battle while actually he had achieved exactly nothing, as it had all been talk.

There was only one thing disturbing Uther, besides his continuous worry about his son. Well, yes, and about his grandson, damn the child that it was so very endearing.

The more the King of Camelot tried the less he could banish another annoying thought from his mind. It even stalked him when he was in his bed, in guest quarters the comfort of which was only marred by the fact that the only possible exit was locked and guarded.

The thought of what a great Queen the Princess Morgyan would make.

Not for a son who had to be persuaded to see her merits first.

No.

This wasn't about making Morgyan the Crown Princess of Camelot.

This was about making room for another inhabitant in King Uther's own chambers and on a Queen's throne at his side that had been vacant for too long.

By the way and come to think of it: If Arthur could present his father with a grandchild without so much as asking the King's leave, why should not the father be entitled to present the obstinate Prince yet with a little brother?

Not even the King of Camelot could do without a break from his worries from time to time. So, in spite of a potentially very dire situation, Uther rested his head on his arms; found a more comfortable position in the bed and began dreaming.