The following morning, Arthur decided it was stupid to put it off. He couldn't hide in the room forever, and curiosity was starting to get the better of him. He showered first and rummaged through the wardrobe, finally choosing a pair of jeans, tee-shirt and a hoodie top, and rooted out some trainers from a box at the bottom. What worried him was how well everything fit, as if they knew his size, what sort of things he wore and chose accordingly. That seemed rather creepy. He'd have to ask who did the shopping.
Once he had steeled himself enough he opened the door and peered out. The corridor told him nothing. It was wide, running to a large window at one end, and an arched doorway the other. He headed off towards the window first, peering out at the landscape of field and trees. Directly below was a well cultivated looking lawn, which was ringed by a post and rail fence, benches set against a wall at one end, it was the wall of the house jutting out like a tower in a castle. Arthur rolled his eyes. That was all he needed, castles involved as well. The landscape was very unforthcoming, although it looked nice enough, and did warn him that if he tried to get away, there might be a rather long walk involved.
The first part of the walk was down the corridor, heading in the other direction. Passing through the archway he paused, looking left and right. There was just more corridor. Left there was a door, which he presumed took him off towards the tower. The other direction was a little more open, so he went that way, towards another large window, a staircase and another corridor, from which strolled a girl. She was walking and fiddling through the pile of sheets she was holding at the same time, but she looked up and jerked to a halt as she saw him, staring at him with wide dark eyes. Arthur smiled, confused and wary.
"Hi," he said.
"Hello," Gwen replied, a little stunned, wondering how the hell she was meant to greet Uther's long-lost son.
"I'm Arthur," he said helpfully.
Gwen smiled back. "I'm Guinevere, but most people just call me Gwen."
She watched the comprehension slide over Arthur's face. "Ah, the maker of chilli and bread rolls."
Gwen's smile widened, and she looked a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I do the cooking, and cleaning, and everything. I'm the housekeeper."
"There looks to be a lot of house to keep," Arthur commented. Gwen shrugged.
"The west wing is all shut, well most of it. I don't go there, I just do the rooms this side, where everyone lives, and makes mess," Gwen said, and then bit down on her lip, looking a little nervous. Arthur guessed she was another one who wasn't supposed to tell him stuff, but taking in the look on her face, she didn't look like she was really aware of what she shouldn't tell him.
"The others should be downstairs in the dining room, I put breakfast out about half an hour ago," Gwen added helpfully. "Was the room all right by the way? I hope I put enough towels out in the bathroom."
Arthur smiled again. "You make it sound like you are running a hotel."
"It feels like it some days," Gwen said. "If you are not going to be in there for a while, I will go and clean up."
"You don't have to do that," Arthur said.
Gwen smiled at him. "It's my job."
"Oh, okay, and the towels were fine, so was everything else, although the crumbs on the carpet are Merlin's fault, not mine."
"Okay," Gwen said with a grin. Arthur headed down two more steps and Gwen turned away to go and clean Arthur's room when he suddenly paused and turned back.
"Gwen?"
"Yes," she spun round and looked at Arthur, who gazed back sheepishly.
"How do I get to the dining room?"
Gwen sniggered, which made Arthur smile, and relax. She carefully placed the sheets she was carrying on the nearby window sill, tucking them up so they wouldn't slide off, and she started down the stairs.
"I'll show you. It's not too hard, but it can get a bit confusing."
"I haven't really looked round," Arthur said as he fell into step beside her, and they took the gently curved staircase down to another level. Gwen walked down a short corridor which opened out into the sweeping hallway that Arthur vaguely remembered from the day before.
"Didn't you get a tour?" Gwen asked.
"No, I stayed in my room yesterday," Arthur said. Gwen gave him a curious look as they headed down the staircase. She could just probably point from the top of the stairs but she couldn't help the intrigue she felt over Arthur, who was also quite handsome.
"I was tired," Arthur said by way of explanation, having no idea that Gwen had witnessed his arrival and knew there was more to the situation than met the eye. She knew that anyway, it was always the case around this house. Gwen, however, just nodded and said.
"Must have been a long journey."
They reached the bottom of the stairs and Gwen crossed the hallway with him, pausing at the doorway to the dining room. Arthur walked past the threshold on and paused. Gwen stayed a little behind him.
"There you go," she said, before backing off and walking away. Arthur turned.
"Thanks," he answered feebly before looking back, and feeling a sudden inclination to go running after her. Gwen's face was far friendlier than the people he was confronted with now. She gave him a wave as she jogged back up the stairs, and Arthur turned back to face what felt like a firing squad.
"Where's Merlin?" Arthur asked, hoping to find the only friendly face he seemed to know with this group.
"Gwaine came and gathered up some breakfast for them and announced they were having a picnic," Morgana announced, with a smirk.
"I did see Merlin dressed and waiting for him by the kitchen door, so they have gone to picnic somewhere outside," Lancelot informed her, putting the last piece of the croissant he was eating in his mouth. Arthur backed up a step, unsure what to do. Lancelot, who had cleared his first helping, stood up, and indicated to the sideboard on the far side of the room, as he walked around the table to Arthur.
"It's sort of a buffet for breakfast, come on."
Arthur avoided Lancelot's guiding arm. He was not comfortable with being touched, which sounded laughable with his recent career but Arthur couldn't help the way he felt. Lancelot noticed but didn't react. He just pretended he hadn't noticed and led Arthur over, and he handed Arthur a plate, before starting to stack his own. To Arthur it looked like Lancelot was overdoing it as he packed his plate with bacon, sausages, eggs and everything else.
"Are you going to manage all that?"
"And some fruit afterwards," Lancelot said in a serious tone, having been primed by Merlin, quite subtly but thoroughly.
Merlin still had to give Gwaine some of his time, which he didn't mind. He wouldn't have been with him for so long if he didn't want to be around him, but Arthur was preying heavily on his mind. It had occurred to Merlin, in the early hours of the morning, that Arthur's rudeness, and defensiveness, was nothing more than a front. He had lived a life that demanded toughness, but Arthur didn't have some certain physical rights to himself. He had to manifest it other ways, hence the aggression and swearing.
Gwaine had been snuggled against him as Merlin pondered that, both of them lying in a sweaty, satisfied, post-coital pile. Merlin had felt damn grateful for that, that he had someone that cared so much about him, and that would look after him and would demand his attention sometimes. However, Merlin decided that saying anything to Gwaine, even the following morning, was wrong. He didn't want Gwaine's jealousy going any further on alert. The sex had been good, but Gwaine's dictation of events alerted Merlin to his partner's need. Mentioning someone else, even in the morning and allowing the hint to germinate that that person might be on your mind, was not something Merlin wanted to do. So instead he had observed his feelings to Morgana, and then to Lancelot, before he skipped off on his picnic with Gwaine. An encounter which, by Merlin's instigation, resulted in sex by the lakeside.
Lancelot now, could deal with the situation. He wanted food, he lived to eat and also wanted hold of Arthur. So he helped Arthur stack his plate, remaining conscious of Merlin's comments. Lancelot had a thick skin, so he could take any sort of dig. But Arthur never gave one, instead he let Lancelot pile his plate, followed him gratefully as Lancelot sat down again, and ate quietly while avoiding Uther's gaze. Morgana waffled at Uther, making him answer her, but his eyes always returned to Arthur.
Arthur finished eating, and Lancelot went to go and collect his third helping of breakfast, which consisted of fruit. As he gathered it he said, without turning around.
"I did hope Sir," Lancelot said, the polite address intended for Uther. "That I could take Arthur down to the firing range this morning."
Arthur blinked and sipped at his orange juice. Morgana was filling her mug with coffee, and she filled a second and passed it over to Arthur. He looked up at her, and she winked at him. Uther didn't see, this time his eyes were on Lancelot, still gleaming with disapproval.
"I'd like to see if that aim was luck, or potential," Lancelot added.
"I think it was being close to the damn thing," Arthur said.
"Yes," Lancelot pondered. "And Gaius is very, very happy with you."
"Nice to know that somebody is," Arthur murmured, his eyes stole warily to Uther, who from out of the blue suddenly asked.
"What were you doing with Guinevere this morning?"
"She was showing me the way," Arthur said. "This is the first time I have been out of the room."
"You came in yesterday."
Arthur glared, hackles rising, "Yeah, because when I get dragged off by complete strangers, who had drugged, kidnapped, and chained me, then on escaping get attacked by scorpions…"
"Serkets," Lancelot corrected mildly as Arthur paused for breath.
"Whatever," Arthur drawled. "Then I get dragged off to god knows where, for a reason that no one will tell me and you expect me to remember the layout of the house as I am marched through it."
It did rather sum up the situation Arthur thought, and he couldn't help getting riled up as he dealt with Uther. Arthur didn't think it was just the revelation about this man being his father. That was, however, the catalyst that was driving up old resentments. It wasn't as if Uther seemed to be expecting some romantic style reunion, but he did appear to think that the connection meant Arthur would be utterly obedient.
So not going to happen, Arthur thought to himself.
He went still as Uther stood, folding the paper he had been reading sharply, and slapping it down on the table. Arthur watched his progress as he walked around the table and leant down close to Arthur, hemming him in by putting one hand on the table and the other on the back of Arthur's chair. Arthur's body rippled with tension.
"One reason for being dragged off god knows where is, whether you or I like it or not, because you are my son." Uther straightened up and directed his attention to Lancelot. "Very well, we can talk about what we need to when we are all together for the briefing this afternoon. Morgana,"
Uther's voice was a distinct command. She gave Lancelot a brief roll of her eyes before getting up and following Uther out. Arthur watched her, dressed in a tight-fitting white silk blouse and royal blue pencil skirt. Her high heeled shoes matched the skirt perfectly. Watching her carefully Arthur got the feeling he had discovered who it was who had done all the shopping with such careful precision. Picking things that he normally wore, and was comfortable with, but were far better quality than he was used to.
Arthur breathed a rather visible sigh of relief as Uther disappeared and he swallowed the last of the coffee as he realised his hands were shaking. Lancelot hurriedly munched his fruit and Arthur slowly rose to his feet.
"Don't worry about Uther, he's like that, you get used to him."
"I'm not sure I want to," Arthur said. Lancelot smiled sympathetically, and reached out to pat Arthur's shoulder in a friendly gesture. Arthur took himself out of Lancelot's reach. The other man looked at him curiously and Arthur shrugged.
"Sorry."
Lancelot gave another casual shrug. He wasn't very interested in Arthur's hang ups, he was interested in his ability to fire a gun.
"Come on, let's work off the tension by firing bullets at paper targets."
"Shouldn't we clear up?"
"Gwen will do it in a minute," Lancelot said. Arthur looked around, it seemed like an awful lot for one person to do but Lancelot was already moving to the door. In a gesture of neatness, Arthur stacked the plates that were scattered around the table and put the dirty mugs next to them before he followed Lancelot. He turned a sharp right and headed down a corridor that ran down the side and behind the stairs. The door on the left swung open and Gwen came ambling out with a tray. She smiled as she saw them.
"We're done in there, he's even stacked the plates," Lancelot said to her, nodding at Arthur. Gwen smiled at him.
"At least somebody around here is vaguely tidy," Gwen said.
"He does it too much, you'll be out of a job," Lancelot warned her. "I wouldn't want that."
Gwen laughed and headed off down the corridor. Arthur watched her for a moment, eyeing the swing of her denim clad hips. Then he turned to Lancelot to see him eyeing her in the same way, with a clear sense of longing. He seemed to snap out of it and looked at Arthur, flushing slightly, and he indicated to the heavy looking metal door on the right. It had a keypad to the right and Lancelot punched in a combination of numbers. He moved so Arthur couldn't see it clearly.
"I can't tell you the combination, not until Uther authorizes it," Lancelot said, before he turned the handle and yanked the door open. It gave a creak but moved smoothly on its hinges.
"So we're waiting for hell to freeze over then," Arthur said. Lancelot smirked at him.
"Come on," he said, getting Arthur through the door before closing it behind him.
The west wing seemed to have a whole different atmosphere. There was no natural light as far as Arthur could see. They went down a corridor, up a short flight of stairs and look a left turn into a long room, set up as a firing range. It seemed to be subterranean, but it wasn't, the windows were carefully covered, the walls looked padded, which Arthur guessed was sound-proofing, and targets were set up at the end of the space. Arthur stood there, slouched with his hands in his pockets, as Lancelot loaded a clip into a handgun. It looked similar enough to the one Arthur had used but he wasn't sure. Lancelot then gave Arthur some ear protectors.
"You will want them," Lancelot said. Arthur put them on and looked nervous as he took the gun that Lancelot offered. His voice was muted, due to the protection but Arthur heard him well enough.
"Just aim at that target and fire a shot."
Arthur did, he didn't know really what to do. He's seen things on television but that wasn't real, and there was bound to be artistic licence to it. He felt glad that there was just to two of them as he shifted into something of a comfortable position, raised the gun, tried to aim and fired.
Lancelot peered around him, causing Arthur to shift his shoulder.
"That wasn't quite where I was aiming," Arthur confessed as he looked at the hole, just on the edge of the target.
"Probably because you were tense when you fired, take a breath, release it and just fire a few off."
Arthur did, and it didn't seem that bad. Lancelot showed him how to load the gun, got him to do it again, then reload, and then he stepped forward. Arthur's body tensed as Lancelot put his hands on Arthur's shoulders and tried to get him to move position slightly.
"Just relax."
He moved a little closer, which only made Arthur tense up more.
"Sorry," Arthur said. "I don't like people so physically close to me."
"Oh," Lancelot said, mildly confused.
"Yes, I know, it sounds stupid given the fact that it's kind of unavoidable, but if they paid, you just have to take it."
"Really?" Lancelot asked.
"Yes." Arthur wasn't going to hedge around the subject. It was what had happened; trying to view it through rose-tinted glasses would do no one any good. They couldn't make him into whatever they wanted, they might as well know that now.
"Okay," Lancelot said. Arthur turned as Lancelot stepped back and there were sounds Arthur couldn't quite interpret in the ear muffs. He turned to find Lancelot fishing his wallet out. After pulling out a twenty pound note he flipped his wallet closed, stuffed it in his back pocket and made Arthur jump by pushing the note into his pocket. Arthur blinked.
"I've paid for it," Lancelot said, taking Arthur's shoulders again and turning him to face the right direction, standing as close as he needed to so he could position Arthur correctly. "And for the record, you're not my type."
"No, I think Gwen is."
"What?" Lancelot snapped. Arthur turned.
"I saw you looking."
Lancelot scowled. "You were doing the same."
Arthur blinked. "Sorry, not in the same way, I just… look I didn't mean to stare at your girlfriend, okay, not like that. She's nice."
"Yes, she is, and she's not my girlfriend."
"Oh, I thought that you were… you know."
"No, I haven't asked her yet."
"Why not?"
"I don't know quite what to say."
Arthur smiled and shrugged. "I only know this from TV and books but I'm sure the conventional way is to ask her out to dinner, or a movie, or both. That way she might get it."
"What if she says no?"
"Has she given you any indication that she would?"
"No, but it's hard to tell. You have to be professional around the house, with Uther."
"Merlin and Gwaine aren't."
"I know but Uther pays my wages, and Gwen's, I don't want to get her into trouble."
"What you do in your free time is nothing to do with your job," Arthur said. "Just ask her, if she says no, find out why."
"I guess. Now, never mind that, I've paid you twenty quid, fire at the target."
Arthur levelled the gun again, his mind relaxing into the state he was familiar with when he had sex, when he was nothing more than something to be used. His mind calmed, he followed the previous instructions that Lancelot had given him and aimed, firing off all the bullets in the cartridge. Once he had finished Arthur lowered his arm and stepped back. Lancelot pressed the button to bring the target over to them. Arthur had aimed and fired as well as he had at the serket. Lancelot looked mightily impressed.
"Wow, if twenty quid is all it takes, I'd like to see you handle a sword."