44 Take the shambles, build anew
Arthur woke up and tensed. This was wrong. Soft mattress, soft pillow, warm blanket – wrong!
Where was he?
He opened his eyes, ready to strike, and his hands searched for the hilt of his sword.
It took him two minutes to realize that he was in Camelot, in his old room, in his old bed, and that he had been sleeping here for the last two weeks, ever since they'd returned.
Like every morning, Arthur remembered, in his head, that he had once felt comfy here. How it actually felt, to be 'at home' in a place, any place, he had long since forgotten. This was what the adventure stories of his childhood had kept from him. Their heroes returned home and lived happily ever after. No darkness a chandelier could not ban, no terror a man could not forget, no revelations a heart could not stand.
Arthur looked at the cheerful, silent room and choked as a familiar lump was forming in his throat. His eyes stung.
DAMN it!
"Merlin!" he roared. "Where is my…"
The door opened, banged against the wall with a deafening crash. In stumbled a tiny, fragile looking creature of a boy, blonde, small, blue eyed and in a Camelot livery much too big for him. "I…. I … I'm so-so-so sorry, Your Highness, I-I was…."
"Gods, Humphrey, when will you ever learn that I'm not a man-eater. No need to stutter and certainly no need to demolish Camelot Castle. Where are my clothes?"
"On-on the chair, Sire…"
Arthur stepped out of bed, naked except for his pants, and felt a vicious joy when the kid blushed and looked anywhere but at his Prince. Whatever King Uther had thought to choose this measly excuse for a boy as his son's new manservant was beyond Arthur anyway. The boy was good for nothing, every order sent him fluttering around the room like a panicked bird, every question had him stuttering with non-knowledge and every attempt at banter had him burst into tears. Idiot!
It didn't help that Arthur automatically shouted for his former man-servant, still expecting the familiar lanky, long form and the usual insolence to enter his room in the morning.
But no, nowadays his Lordship the Court Sorcerer of Camelot was too grand for so menial a task! The Great Merlin was having a depression, His Magical Highness didn't feel too well, My Lord Emrys wasn't in the mood to mingle with mere mortals, royal or otherwise.
Arthur snorted loudly with anger and kicked a chair against the wall.
14 days! 14 days of hard work, negotiating a treaty with Cendred, talking about mutual reparations, costs, schedules, ceremonies, formalities and legal expertise from morning until late at night. Morgyan had to be invested as Countess of Llanfair, titles and rewards had to be given, legalized, formalized, whatnot-ized….
Status, prestige, precedence – Gods, the discussion alone about who would in future enter a ballroom first, Morgyan or some Lady-this or Countess-that of Camelot…. Eight hours, eight god-damned hours for this STUPID issue alone!
Really, Arthur no longer knew why he had taken the trouble of going back to Camelot at all!
He could have gone abroad, free as a bird, earned his living with his sword. Now that would be a fine life for once, no well-meaning people to rule his day, no so-called friends or lovers who abandoned you at the first sight of trouble, no squalling child to torture your nights…. nothing but the camaraderie among warriors, true friendship of men looking death in the eye together… a knight's life. A man's life!
Nobody to stare at him, to look for leftovers of what had happened, if he was broken, was damaged goods….. a loner, a misfit, unfit to rule …. the whispering, the furtive looks, the barely hidden schadenfreude… nothing had changed since his return, nothing at all, things still were as and where they had been when he had left Camelot for Antek's place.
Except that, back then, Guinivere had been with him, and then the child had been born, and he had really thought, if only for a moment, that now, with his wife and his son, with his friends, he perhaps could…at least something that resembled a life of his own, was that so very much to ask….?
Arthur's restlessly pacing foot got caught in the blanket and he cursed, loudly and blasphemously. He pulled so hard that the precious fabric was torn to pieces. Humphrey jumped to his side and tried to save what was left.
Arthur did not even see it.
Here he was, back to square one, playing his part as a royal Prince with nothing to look forward to but an empty life and a full schedule.
And where was Merlin while his Prince worked his head off? Where was his so-called best friend and protector? Next to Arthur, where he belonged? No, of course not! His Wizard-ness had withdrawn to some obscure place in the servants' quarters and refused to be seen. "He does not feel too well" Gaius had said. "He's taken events so much to heart."
HAH! ! !
This time it was the table that felt Arthur's foot. As it was much sturdier than the chair, Arthur subsequently refrained from kicking any furniture.
Instead, he darted round to scrutinize his new man-servant. Humphrey! What name for a servant was that? What to make of it? Hump? Or Huppa? Oh, for Gods' sake, let's be done with it.
"I shall wear these?" Arthur roared at the sight of the brown-blue shirt and the bright yellow pants. "We're going to have a royal ceremony and ball tonight, this morning I'm going to have breakfast with my father and King Cendred, and you take out these rags for me? Have you been at the slow gin again, HUMphrey?"
"I-I-I've never been at no gin, M'Lord…"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, get out of my sight!"
Humphrey bowed and made haste to do just that, as fast as his feet would carry him.
Outside he ran around the corner in order to get to the kitchen.
Prince Arthur was a bit easier to handle after he'd had his first bite, and his first cup of leave-brew; Humphrey had found out that on his first day. Then there was some of the sweet chestnut cake left, and perhaps some fruit….. but, perhaps, as the Prince was expected to have breakfast with Uther, he would not want something to eat at all ….. how Humphrey should handle an un-fed Prince was a mystery …. Humphrey's mother had always said that a cup with hot milk and honey calmed even the most frayed set of nerves….. but then, they'd not often been able to afford such luxuries, while as a Prince…
Bang! Clank and clatter!
Humphrey had collided head-first with a soft, distinctively female body and the tray full of food and drink she'd been carrying. Cutlery, pottery, bread and all kissed the stone floor and therewith the world good-bye in a shattering crescendo of breaking sounds and a piercing yelp of surprise.
Humphrey blew himself up to a bigger-than-life size of utter indignation. As he wasn't big in life from the start, it did not take much work. This servant-wretch, whoever she was, would have some explaining to do. After all, Humphrey was on urgent royal business!
He opened his mouth to fire away the worst bollocking he could think of (something he was extremely good at!) – and shut it with a snap. Just in time.
"Tell someone to clear up this mess. Go to the kitchen and bring us some more food and drink. You must mind your steps, Humphrey!"
"Yes…. Your Highness… I would….. I mean, I will, from now on…."
"Well then. Carry on!"
"My Lady …." Humphrey said, blessedly unaware that he might be talking himself into boiling hot water, "His Highness is not …. perhaps you should not …. he's a bit beside himself this morning…" He added 'again' only in his mind.
"I thought that much" Guinivere replied. "If you wish, you need not come back. Tell one of the girls to take up the tray. Now go."
Humphrey watched her leaving, with her little boy looking over her shoulder. The woman had guts, that much was certain. Nothing in this world but the fear for his job would make Humphrey enter the Prince's chambers if the man was in such a bad mood. Unbelievable that there were people in Camelot who said that Prince Arthur was a kind and gentle person.
There sure was nothing gentle or kind in the spoilt misanthrope that was Humphrey's master!
Sighing about life's injustice, Humphrey resumed his way to the kitchen.
Guinivere meanwhile entered her husband's room without a knock or any other warning. "Arthur, I have to talk to you!"
"But I not to you" Arthur said. Or planned to say, as her sudden entry made him stumble, and not even a seasoned warrior should stumble with one foot on the ground and the other stuck in his pants' left leg. For the second time in one morning, Guinivere had to come to the rescue because a male had fallen to her feet.
"As a maid will come with your breakfast very soon, I will make it short" Gwen said, making perfect use of the fact that her husband was winded and rubbing his bruised head. "I've returned to Camelot because your father urged me to. Since then you've been avoiding me. You will have the courtesy of telling me what it is you've taken offence at, or Thomas and I will leave Camelot. Today!"
"Sweetheart, I…."
"Don't you 'sweetheart' me, Arthur Pendragon! You're behaving like a spoilt child. What the hell is the matter with you?"
"Nothing is the matter with me. I'm tired….."
"In your usual excuse for a night-attire, at ten o'clock in the morning?"
Arthur tried to calm himself. He could not deal with the woman, not now. Later. Preferably much later. He had to survive this day's celebrations, first. "Guinivere, whatever it is that upsets you…."
"I am upset? You are upset, obviously. Too upset to see your wife, too upset even to spare a moment for your son!"
Right on clue, Thomas chose this moment to squeal at his father. His mother was angry, and nobody else was present. A child doesn't need much to figure the basics out, and Thomas was smart.
"Perhaps you should bring the boy to the nursery, Gwen…."
"No! You will tell me now!"
Arthur's resolve to not be provoked vanished into thin air. "Guinivere, I do not want to talk to you right now. Would you please leave!"
"I'm not your servant, I'm your wife, my dear. I have a right to know what grudges you're holding against me."
"Not now, Guinivere. I'm busy, I'm tired, and I'm….."
"Arthur, you've been all that since the day we returned from Blackrock. You've tried to run, you've tried to duck, you've tried to ignore it, but your time as Anwar's prisoner will not go away. The memory will stay with you, whatever you do. Face it!"
"Guinivere, I'm saying it for the very last time: Leave. me. alone!"
"If you're still wrestling with what Anwar forced you to do, stop it. I know that you're the only one still thinking about it. All the others are just going on with their lives!"
Arthur exploded, all courtesy, all self-restraint forgotten. "You do not know what you're talking about. You babble like a child! How dare you?"
"Arthur, I know perfectly well what Anwar did to you. What he made you do in order to survive."
"No, you do not. You cannot even begin to imagine…" Arthur was shaking. He could not believe he was having this conversation with her. With any woman. Suddenly it came all back in a rush, how Anwar had pried into his most intimate secrets, his feelings….. how could she, how could anyone even begin to understand? And to tell him, him, of all people, that it would never ever go away!
"Arthur, I know what he did. Damn it, did Merlin never tell you that you talk in your sleep?"
The few words sent him into total shock.
"All the time we were with Antek" Guinivere added gently, putting a restless Thomas on the bed. "And even before that …..every night it haunted you, again and again. It never left you, day and night. I wanted so much to tell you that you have no reason to be ashamed, but I thought you wouldn't listen….."
In Arthur's mind the thoughts stumbled on each other. "At least I know now why you had me go through with the ritual" he finally muttered. "I disgust you. I knew I would. You'd never love a coward."
"Disgusted? Why would I be? Arthur, I love you, you idiot. You aren't a coward. A coward would never survive what you've been through. But now, when it is finally over, you throw your life away. Our life."
"You were right, you know" Arthur said, who hadn't heard a word of what she had said. "There never was a choice. Thomas' life was all that counted. You are not to blame. I'm sorry, Guinivere. I shouldn't have…. I'm sorry. I got it all wrong."
A shiver ran down her spine. "So it is true" she pressed out. "Gaius said you think I wanted you dead."
"I can't blame you for that. When the beast…."
"Dragon" she automatically corrected. "His name is Khilgarrah."
"When he said what I would have to do to rescue our son, I wanted to do it, Guinivere. It was just so much to take in, I…. I should not have hesitated…"
"I had not the faintest idea what the ritual would mean for you, Arthur. All I heard was that there was still a chance to get Thomas back. I had no idea it could cost your life."
"Still, you did the right thing. The little one is so much more important."
"No, he is not" she entreated him to understand what she was saying. "You cannot make me choose between you, Arthur. I'd so much rather die myself than make that choice. You two, you are my world. No Camelot, no Crown or Castle – just you and our son. Why on earth can't you get that into this thick head of yours?"
Arthur wrestled with an answer. Everything that came to mind was true and not true at the same time. How could she tell him that his memories and nightmares would haunt him forever, that the trust and faith Anwar had beaten out of him could never be restored, and at the same time say that he had just gotten it all wrong and should therefore go on with their life as if nothing had happened? This was like standing in a labyrinth and knowing that all ways had a blind end.
He winced violently when she turned resolutely and locked the door. She came back, grabbed him, and took him in her arms. Her hot, soft lips brushed his ear. He shied away, but she held him fast. "Arthur, the Llanfairs are dead, and we are alive. Anwar's taken away so much, but this he cannot have. Our bodies, my love, our living flesh, I know it isn't much, but it is a start."
"But it would change nothing, it's like drowning ourselves in liquor" Arthur accused her. "We wake up, and the mess is still the same." However, even as he said it he found her knowing hands a sensation very hard to ignore.
"Then we can get drunk again. And again. As often as it takes. I will exorcise these Blackrock ghosts with everything I have. I am your wife, I love you. You once said you could drown between my thighs."
Something deep inside him stirred. Something almost forgotten. "I never said that" he objected.
"Memories are a tricky thing" she said, her tongue flickering over the soft skin of his neck. "Some people cherish the bad ones, I cherish the others. You did say it, in our first night together."
Arthur barely noticed that he had begun nibbling her earlobes. "This is not chaste, woman. You are the Crown Princess of Camelot. It is not decent."
"To hell with decent" Gwen said hoarsely.
"No proper behaviour for a Lady who walks the castle grounds."
"Just proper for a Lady who once scrubbed the castle floors. Gods, Arthur, I've missed you so….."
From then on, Thomas was lucky that his father's bed was so very large. Room enough for some sleepy little boy and two extremely active grown-ups and their sport.
Later, in the heat of the moment, Guinivere screamed her triumph into the world. "They're dead, Arthur. Dead, dead, dead, DEAD!"
And, in that second of eruption and final salvation, Arthur felt as if with everything that left his body some bad and rotten thing just left it, too. And even through his collapse and exhaustion, life was streaming back, from her to him. An illusion, to be sure. A frantic tumble that would hardly withstand the harsh uncaring light of day.
But, as she had said – a start, at least.
No more. No less.
And a flame that could be rekindled. And Guinivere rekindled it, by ways known only to her.
Outside, in front of the door of Arthur's bedroom, Leon straightened his back, and looked at his King with hot cheeks. "They're….. busy" he said. "I think."
"Good!" Uther nodded. "I expected no less."
"I do not understand…."
"There's no need for you to understand, Sir Leon. As long as you carry out my orders."
Leon thought it wiser not to object. He looked at the tray at his feet, on which the food had long since grown cold. "It looks as if Prince Arthur has missed more than one breakfast today."
"At his age, I could miss as many breakfasts as I wanted and still win a tournament" Uther sniffed. "But now that I'm old and feeble, I have to take care of my health. You will join me for lunch, Sir Leon."
Leon knew this was an order, and he treated it as such.
"No need to feel awkward in the presence of two Kings, my friend" Uther said jovially as soon as they'd sat down at the dining table. Cendred smirked, and Leon blushed again. What on earth should a man say to this remark?
"Sir Leon" Uther fortunately went on "I was just thinking the other night what a fine girl you've got for yourself. Pass me the bread, Cendred, will you."
"Your son's not coming?" Cendred asked Uther as he poured himself another glass and unceremoniously pushed the bread across the table.
"No. Important business of state. With his Lady wife."
Cendred grinned. "Oh?"
"You better keep your 'ohs' to yourself. It's all for the best of Camelot."
"No doubt, friend Uther, no doubt. I know this state business all too well. Besides, you were talking to Sir Leon here…"
"Indeed. A fine girl, as I just said. We must take care of her future."
Leon looked from one to the other. "My wife Mirella will be glad to hear you have such a high opinion of her" he said cautiously.
"I was talking about your daughter" Uther corrected him drily. "Now that a new generation is finally coming into life in Camelot, it is time for some changes. Does your child have magic, Sir Leon?"
Leon sat rigidly upright. "Sire?"
"Magic. M-A-G-I-C. Your wife is a Druid. A Lord Druid's daughter. Useless now to mention that, by right, you should not have married without my permission. I think a bouncing child is as good a fait accompli as anything."
Leon put his napkin down, shoved his chair back, and stood. "There is no need to beat around the bush, King Uther. If you want me to resign my commission – fine. You've got it. Mirella is my wife. Nothing will change that."
Having dapped his mouth with his embroidered piece of cloth Uther took another sip from his wineglass and smiled. "I'm afraid that is not possible, Sir Leon."
"Sire!" Leon said heatedly. "You gave the Druids your word as a King that they would find a welcome here. It is unworthy of you to render your own promise invalid!"
"Who said I would?"
"But Sire…"
"I inquired if your daughter has magic. Does she have magic, Sir Leon?"
"Yes, My Lord. She broke a cup yesterday."
"Does it take a baby of her age magic to break a cup that's gotten into her cradle?"
"It wasn't in her cradle. It was in the other room. She couldn't even see it."
"Reminds you of someone?" Cendred asked. "Looks as if I've won."
"Indeed" Uther said thoughtfully. He did not look very pleased. "But then, dear Cendred, if you had known in advance what Sir Leon's answer would be, some might say you tricked me."
Cendred raised both hands over his head. "I'd never….. , dear Uther, you're offending me. I just had my hopes. It's never wrong to hope."
"Would Your Lordships care to fill me in?" Leon asked, more than a bit angry.
"The point is, Sir Leon" Cendred answered "that my friend Uther and I have been talking borders last night. The Earldom of Drummond will stay with me. In my Kingdom, that is. It will not become a part of Camelot. In return, I allowed my brother-king Uther to pick the liegeman to hold the place from the ranks of his own court. I knew he'd been searching a position for you and your thriving family for some time now…. well, to make a long story short, Uther's made you Earl of Drummond by his pleasure, and I most heartily agreed."
"But….." Leon said, gobsmacked. "I cannot… I do not understand."
"Neither" Uther replied with a sour face "did I at the time."
Cendred leaned back in his chair and more than ever he looked like a lion in his den. "You're a fine knight, Sir Leon. A good fighter, loyal, intelligent and trustworthy. I hold you in very high esteem. Therefore you will not begrudge me saying that Merlin is an asset of even greater value. I've never feared magic, I've never had a quarrel with the druids until the night your wife's sister-in-law murdered my boy Gyrrin. Well, the Great Mother rest her soul, Agneta's dead. More than her life she could not give to make amends. But something like that will never happen again, not to me, not to mine. I cannot have Merlin – Uther has made that very clear. So, if you'll raise your daughter as my subject, I promise you a home and a career at my Court from now until the moon gets blue from cold!" Cendred stretched out his hand expectantly.
Leon searched for words. "A long speech, Your Majesty" he finally said. "I would need time to think it over."
"No time" Cendred said. "Uther gave me his word. You are his subject, and his knight. My question is a courtesy, no more."
"Technically" Uther said slowly. "Sir Leon is neither. He's been born outside Camelot, just like Merlin. And he resigned his commission to me when Arthur had first become a prisoner in Blackrock. It has never been renewed."
"You" Cendred growled menacingly "agreed. You gave me your word!"
"And I will give you mine" Leon said hastily. "Just allow me to inform my wife, first."
Cendred narrowed his eyes. "You would heed your wife's wishes before mine, eh?"
Leon held the other's gaze as best he could. He would not give cause for another rift between the two kingdoms, but he would not be treated like a pet dog, either.
Suddenly, Cendred roared with laughter. "Sir Leon, you're one in a million. Very well, you might ask your wife, but promise me this – if you come to me, you be as true to me as you are to your Lady. No servant to two masters."
"I promise you that much" Leon said, relieved. "If I give you my oath, I'll give it to you whole-heartedly."
Leon left the two Kings with a spring to his step. Earl of Drummond – it had a fine ring to it. For him, for the son he would one day have, and for his daughter a future as good as any. He would sleep tight at night, without the fear that Uther could change back to his magic-hating ways, whenever he wanted. His wife and little girl would be well out of reach of Camelot!
When the knight had left, Uther glared at Cendred who was sipping his wine quite happily.
"You outfoxed me" Pendragon accused the other.
"Part of the royal job-description" Cendred said. "As if you did not know, friend Uther."
"You have a wide and greedy hand, friend Cendred. The border-countries for your sister….."
"They've never been much but a thorn in your side anyway."
"I drew large revenues from them…"
"On paper, friend Uther. Morgyan will pay for an army of her own with that money. An army ready to jump to Camelot's side, whenever you say so. It's not to be sneezed on."
"On paper, friend Cendred."
"You're doubting my word, Pendragon?"
"Part of the royal job-description, King Cendred."
"What other guarantees do you want, Uther? I'd still be open for a marriage between our houses, but the conditions of Antek's will take my sister out of the market, and that precious whelp of yours…"
"Arthur has nothing to do with this. At least, not directly."
"Meaning?"
"My grandson. It's never too early. You will name one of your other bastard sons your heir, and I'll support him."
"We agreed on that first thing!"
"Just so. Doubtlessly your new Crown Prince will get married…."
"Faster than he can fart!"
"I guessed that much. Should his marriage be blessed with a daughter…"
Cendred was by now smirking again, from one ear to the other. "Your grandchild and mine, Uther. First class thinking my friend, first class thinking. And if your august Arthur will father a daughter next… some of my sons are still little…"
"Well, why not" Uther hastily said. He found it superfluous to inform Cendred that Guinivere would not have any more children. For the time being, it was enough that she was bringing Arthur back to his senses, with a little counselling from Gaius and her well-meaning father-in-law.
Had that not been a stroke of Gaius' old genius, to tell her that she should make Arthur believe he'd talked in his sleep. Thereby nobody would ever know all that had happened in Blackrock – which was, in Uther's well-founded opinion, for the best of anyone – but Arthur would nevertheless find the absolution he'd been craving in the arms of his loving and forgiving wife! Ingenious, indeed. Gaius was in for a treat! But, really, the troubles he took for this complicated whelp that was his only son…
Cendred and Uther finished their lunch – the two ate, drank and talked for three, so that Leon's absence went unnoticed – as the very best of friends. That was – almost.
"It wasn't very clever of you, dear Uther, to remind me that your Merlin is not Camelot bred. Ealdor is mine!"
"It's his father's line that makes the man. Balinor was from Camelot."
"Until you chucked him out. My father was hell-bent on making him our man. Alas, he didn't agree. Lived in this cave, never saw his boy. If I had known Balinor HAD a boy, another Dragon Lord…..Friend Uther, you and I would not be having this conversation!"
"Meaning?" Uther barked.
"Meaning you better not quarrel with this young sorcerer. Rules of the Game. You lose an asset, I'll gain one. And his Dragon does not like you."
Uther shut his mouth and forgot the platitude he had wanted to use. This muscle-show, this aggressive banter was merely part of the game as well. Two strong bulls had agreed on how to share the pasture, and they both wanted to keep their faces in the process.
But there was truth to what Cendred had just said. And, although it sounded offensive enough, saying it had been an act of friendship.
Well, Uther had made the first step to re-embracing magic, he had made a second step. He might as well go all the way.
The more so as this walking hoard of oversensitivity and unknown difficulties that was Arthur Pendragon had not only been missing his wife, but also this insolent peasant who happened to also be a world-miracle of magic.
Oh, the things we do for our kids.
"You will excuse me, Cendred. I must get ready for tonight's revels."
"Take my advice, Uther. Take a nap. You're not as young as you once were."
"Some of us do not have time for naps, Cendred. They have a kingdom to rule!" Quite satisfied with so perfect an exit, Uther left the other King, who quickly drowned his chuckle in another cup of wine, and began his search for a certain moribund Court Sorcerer.
But then he changed his mind. This was going to be – sensitive. Talking about sensitive ….
Uther changed course and he landed in front of his son's door. Only just in time he remembered that for once he needed to knock.
However, he found his son alone. And – wonders never cease – in a happy mood.
It had always been Uther's forte to grab an unexpected, lucky chance by the hair. "You and your wife are fine?"
"Father, I…"
"Good, good, that's as it should be" Uther hastily interrupted his son. He cleared his throat, and began another awkward yet quite inevitable speech: "Arthur, I think it is also time that you and I come to some understanding on a few matters…."
It was a long and tortuous conversation, not completely made of sunshine and a happy smile, but in the end, like after one of Gaius' dental treatments, Uther felt that it had been necessary, and that things were now better.
"I'm glad my son and I can still agree on something" he closed this afternoon's privatissimum. "It is imperative for the sake of our realm that we should do so, you know."
Arthur rolled his eyes a bit, but he agreed readily enough. "Of course, father."
"Which leaves us with only one problem yet to be solved. Where's that thick-headed childish sorcerer of yours?"
"Merlin?" Arthur asked.
"How many sorcerers does my son have in his employ? Of course Merlin."
"About to leave us, or so Geoffrey says." Arthur's smile faded away.
"And you're about to let it happen, just like that? I'm surprised, Arthur."
"Why do you care so suddenly, father?"
"Care, care, I do not care at all" Uther said with a frown. "The Druids might take offense, that's all."
"And I actually thought you might have realized that Camelot needs Merlin."
"That'll be the day" Uther snorted. "Nobody needs the boy around here, not anymore. But Gaius has come to like him, and he's old and ….."
"I think Merlin could defeat a whole army before lunchtime. Every King in Albion would love having him."
Uther straightened his sword belt and ignored that. "Just tell Merlin I order him to attend tonight's festivities. That's all."
"You do not know him, father. If he sulks, he sulks. He liked Agneta, and he mourns her. It's always the same, he strikes and regrets. He's not like you or me. He's stronger and weaker at the same time."
"Or so Gaius says!"
"Gaius" Arthur confirmed. "And I. There must be a reason why a sorcerer of his strength has lived among us for years as a humble servant. The only limit to Merlin's power is his conscience."
"Because of which he's now sulking like a toddler."
"There may be someone who could pull him out of it, with a handful of the right words." Arthur smirked as he said that.
"Forgive me, Arthur, but I fail to see any humour in the situation. You go and calm his precious magical nerves, the sooner the better."
"I do not think it's up to me, father. I have, if you allow me the simple play with words, my own demons to fight."
"Not again, Arthur. I order you to shake it off. You're a grown up man, you're my heir, and I forbid these morbid thoughts. Enough is enough. Camelot needs you, and so do I." Uther panted a bit. Such confessions ….. he should have his head examined!
Calmly, with a little bow, Arthur walked by his father, opened the door and made an inviting gesture. "Your Majesty has work to do" he said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"As I said, father: I cannot help Merlin right now. You can. Please go and do it."
Uther now thought that in desperate situations, desperate confessions should not be ruled out, even if, under normal circumstances, he'd not have humiliated himself further. "I can't Arthur. Finding the way to people's hearts is your forte, my son."
Arthur smiled. "You've already found it, father. Just go and say it."