Chapter 2: The Council's Concerns

Uther left the physician's quarters and began the short walk to the council chambers. He couldn't get the sound of Arthur's scream as he had fallen from the tree out of his mind. He had just so happened to be passing an open window when he had heard it, and the sound had made his blood run cold. How he'd known it was Arthur, he wasn't sure, but by the time he'd reached the courtyard, there'd been a crowd gathered, obscuring the sight of his son.

Then the crowd had parted, and the sight of Arthur lying on the ground, moaning in pain was something else Uther wouldn't soon forget.

But Arthur was fine, he reminded himself. He had a broken arm, but Gaius had assured Uther it would heal completely in time. It could have been so much worse….

Uther shook the thought away as he entered the council chambers. He was surprised to see that the whole council was already there. This was supposed to be a simple, routine meeting, but the councilors had been speaking to each other in low, worried voices. The voices slowly dwindled as the speakers realized Uther had entered, and the councilors scrambled to their feet, only sitting down again once Uther had taken his own place.

One of the men spoke up, "We were not sure if you would be able to make the meeting, Sire; we heard about the prince's fall. How is he?"

"Arthur will be fine," Uther answered, careful to let no trace of how worried- how afraid- he had been show in his voice, "He did break his arm, but the physician tells me he will make a full recovery, and there were no other serious injuries."

At this murmurs of relief broke out, and the councilmember who had spoken allowed himself to smile, "That is good news indeed, my lord, and we are all glad to hear it."

Uther nodded curtly, "I am glad as well. Now, shall we turn to the matters of the meeting?" Perhaps the typical council matters would take his mind off of Arthur's accident.

The council meeting proceeded as normal from there, until, near the end- or what ought to have been the end, Uther asked if there was any more business the council would like to discuss. Immediately, he could tell something was up, as a few nervous looks were exchanged between the council members.

He frowned in irritation, "What is it? If you all have something to bring to my attention, then come out with it already."

One of the councilmembers - the same man who had inquired as to Arthur's wellbeing at the beginning of the meeting- stood, "Forgive me, my lord, but there is something we were discussing before you entered," his gaze slid around to the other councilmembers.

Uther frowned, "Well? What is it?"

The man took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself, "My lord… I don't mean to sound callous, but well… the prince's accident could have been a lot worse."

Something in Uther's stomach tightened, "I am well aware of that, Lord Caerwyn, but it was not, so I do not see how what might have been is relevant."

Lord Caerwyn seemed to wince, "I am very glad the prince is going to be all right my lord, but the…. incident just got the council thinking… what if he had not been?"

That was the last thing Uther wanted to think about, and his voice was tight with anger as he replied, "What is your point, Lord Caerwyn?"

Lord Caerwyn looked around, as if hoping someone else might jump in; when nobody did, he continued, "What I am trying to say, my lord is, well… if, the worst were to happen and the prince were to…" he took a deep breath, "If he were to lose his life… you would have no heir."

Uther felt his heart drop at the words, "Arthur is not going to die," he snapped, glaring at the man in front of him.

Caerwyn didn't quite cower under his glare, but he definitely looked intimidated.

"Of course not, my lord," he said quickly, "But… nevertheless, would it not be wise to have an…. an…. alternate, just in case?"

Uther stared at him, "And where do you suggest I get this "alternate" from? Shall I materialize another heir out of thin air, Lord Caerwyn?" he asked sarcastically.

Another member of the council finally spoke up then, "Pardon me, my lord, but what Lord Caerwyn, and in fact the rest of the council, is suggesting is that perhaps it is time you considered taking another wife."

Another wife? Something in Uther recoiled at the very idea. His mind filled with images of Ygraine. Her laugh, her smile, her blue eyes- so very like Arthur's - gazing into his. How could he ever marry another woman, when he and Ygraine ought to have spent their entire lives together?

"Absolutely not," he said flatly, "The council's worries are without merit, my son is young, and healthy, and strong. I need no secondary heir, nor do I need to take another wife."

He watched as several members of the council exchanged uneasy glances.

Then a third member spoke up, "Forgive me, my lord, but I think today has shown that being young and healthy and strong does not preclude the possibility that a terrible accident could happen."

The image of Arthur lying on the ground- the sound of his scream- flashed through Uther's head again. He leapt to his feet, angrily pushing his chair backwards with enough force that it fell over with a crash. "I will hear no more of this," he boomed, "This council meeting is dismissed."

Without looking around at the councilors, who were sitting there stunned, or giving them a chance to argue, he turned and marched from the room, his gut still churning with anger.

He swept along the corridor. The servants he passed took one look at his face and quickly ducked away into adjacent corridors, making themselves scarce.

The words of his council were still running through Uther's mind. How dare they make such impudent suggestions? He would never have expected his council were all such lily-livered fools as to be so shaken up by a simple boyhood accident. Even the suggestion that Arthur might die was near tantamount to treason as far as Uther was concerned. If the fools knew what was good for them, they would not broach the matter again.

And yet… somewhere, deep in the recesses of his mind, Uther knew that the real reason he was so angry was because the councilors had given voice to his worst fears. With Ygraine gone, Arthur was all he had left in the world. If he ever lost him…. Uther wasn't sure he would survive that.

And despite his earlier thoughts about the council over-reacting to a simple accident, deep down Uther knew that it truly could have been a lot worse. He had told Arthur so himself, wanting to impress on the boy how dangerous it had been so he would never do it again. If he hadn't landed on his side, if he had hit his head…. Uther's stomach turned, imagining blood pooling beneath his son's still form. It could just as easily have been his neck that had snapped, rather than his arm.

He forced the images from his mind, reminding himself again that Arthur was okay. It seemed like a small miracle that that was so.

His mind turned to the council's suggestion that he remarry. It wasn't just his mind recoiling from the idea that he might lose Arthur that made the idea so… repellant to him. Ygraine had been the one true love of his life, and he was sure he could never love another woman.

And more than that… he had betrayed Ygraine once, while she was alive, frustrated and at a loss over their inability to produce a child, he had allowed himself to be tempted by Vivienne, his best friend's wife. He had regretted their brief tryst as soon as it was over, but by then it had been too late to take it back. The idea of being with another woman felt like a betrayal all over again, a betrayal of his wife's memory.

The thought of Vivienne turned Uther's mind to the secret only she and he knew, the direct result of their affair, of their betrayal of their marriage vows. Morgana. What the council didn't know was that Uther already had another child. On the surface, this may have seemed to be the answer to all his problems. A way to satisfy the council and ensure the continuation of his line without taking another wife. But claiming Morgana as his own and making her a secondary heir was out of the question. Not only would it have meant admitting to his shame, to his betrayal of Ygraine…. Gorlois didn't know. As far as he was aware, Morgana was his daughter, and he loved her dearly. Uther couldn't do that to his friend, nor face Gorlois if he ever discovered his betrayal.

And in addition to that, Morgana was happy where she was. Gorlois brought her to court with him sometimes, and Uther had seen her when he visited his friend's lands, and it was clear how much she adored her father… the man she thought was her father. To tell the truth would have been to uproot her life, to turn everything she knew upside down. And there was Arthur to think about as well, not only how the news itself might affect him, but Morgana was older than he, if Uther were to legitimize her, the question of who was first in line for the throne would get… messy. It would cause more trouble than it would solve.

No, Arthur would remain Uther's only heir, and the council would just have to learn to accept that. After all, their role was only to advise Uther. In the end, he was the king, and it was his decisions that were final.

Much to Uther's displeasure, the council did not let the matter drop. True, they were more careful how they brought it up, none of them dared suggest that Arthur might die again, at least not quite so explicitly, but they kept bringing it up in one way or another throughout the next few council meetings, dropping hints about the practicality of having another child, things like how a secondary heir could act as regent if Arthur and Uther were ever both called away for some affair.

Uther was thoroughly fed up with the whole matter. What he would have liked to have done was simply forbid his council from mentioning it, but no matter how many times he shut the topic down, they seemed to find a new way to circle back around to it.

Needing a distraction from his irritation, Uther had invited Gorlois to come up for a hunting trip with him. At least he could be sure his best friend wouldn't pester him about finding a new wife or having another child.

Gorlois had brought Morgana with him to the castle, so that she and Arthur might keep each other company whilst their fathers were hunting. Uther was never entirely sure how to act around the girl, afraid that if he looked at her too long or studied her too closely, someone would notice and wonder. At least there was little chance of anyone looking at her and Arthur together and making the connection that they were related- they both looked like their mothers.

As Uther and Gorlois rode away from the city, Uther could almost feel the tension leaving his body, as if he was leaving his annoyances with the council behind as well.

When they had been riding for a few minutes, Gorlois inquired as to how Arthur had injured his arm. The arm was still in a sling, which Gorlois had seen.

Uther told the story of Arthur's fall from the tree briefly, not mentioning the panic he had felt at the time.

But Gorlois knew him well enough to guess at his feelings anyway. He chuckled ruefully, "Children always find a way to give us new gray hairs. Morgana has had her fair share of escapades that left my heart in my mouth."

Uther glanced at his friend, "I would think a young girl might be a bit less… adventurous than a young boy."

Gorlois laughed, "Yes, you would think. But not that young girl. Climbing trees, racing horses, she does it all. And she's fearless about every bit of it. I, on the other hand, am not."

He tugged on the reins to steer his horse around a small boulder in the path, "You know she's been begging me for a real sword for her next birthday?"

Uther laughed, "She sounds like her father." Then he turned his gaze away, his smile faltering. He wasn't even sure if he'd meant Gorlois or himself.

Gorlois seemed not to notice that anything was wrong, "So what has you so riled up, anyway, is it just Arthur's injury, or is it something else?"

Uther frowned, "what makes you say I'm riled up?" he answered evasively.

Gorlois just gave him a look, "It's obvious, Uther. I swear I could feel the tension as soon as I walked into your throne room.

Uther sighed. He didn't really want to talk about it. After all, this trip was meant to be a distraction from all that. And yet, maybe it would do him some good to have somebody to vent to. There was no one he could really voice his frustrations to back at the castle.

"No, it's not Arthur's injuries," he said, after a few moments of riding in silence, "At least not directly. It's the council that have been giving me new grey hairs lately."

Gorlois raised his eyebrows, "Oh? What are those old bores stirring up now?"

Uther grimaced, "They think that I should…. take a new wife."

Gorlois blinked, "Okay… I admit that wasn't what I was expecting. What prompted that idea?"

Uther spurred his horse to go a little faster, though not so fast as to make keeping up a conversation difficult, "Arthur's accident. They think I need to have another child in case…" he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence,"I had hoped it would blow over once they had calmed down, but they won't let it go."

Gorlois smiled wanly, "The council? Let something go? That would be a new trick."

They rode in silence for a moment before Gorlois spoke again, "I take it you don't agree with them about the necessity of having another child."

"Of course not," Uther scoffed, "They're just a bunch of worrymongers, always coming up with the worst case scenario."

He glanced over at Gorlois in time to catch an odd look pass over his friend's face. He frowned, feeling a prick of annoyance, "Don't tell me you agree with them."

"Me?" Gorlois shook his head, "No, that's not it. I'm just wondering if you really disagree with them as much as you're making out.."

"Don't be ridiculous," Uther shook his head in impatience. Gorlois said nothing, and Uther turned his attention to the land in front of them, watching it loom up closer and then slip away behind.

"I suppose… from a practical standpoint, I can understand the council's point of view," he said reluctantly, when the silence had stretched on longer than he was comfortable with, "I mean… yes, it is true that a ruler typically tries to produce at least two heirs, and if…." he faltered, "if things had been different than perhaps Ygraine and I could have…." He let his words trail off. When they had first married, before Ygraine's inability to conceive had become apparent, he had imagined they would have at least two children. Perhaps more…

He shook his head, "But Ygraine is gone," it was a struggle to keep his voice neutral, "And I have Arthur. I don't need another heir."

Gorlois' gaze was a little too understanding, "Is it the idea of another heir that brings you discomfort, or the idea of taking another wife?"

Uther pressed his lips together, struggling to give word to his thoughts, afraid of unleashing the emotions behind them.

"I can't fathom the thought, Gorlois," he said at last his voice low, nearly drowned out by the pounding of their horses' hooves against the ground, "The idea of taking another woman into my life… no woman could take Ygraine's place."

"Of course not," Gorlois' voice was quiet, almost gentle, "But does that mean you have to be alone forever?"

"I am not alone," Uther said, "I have Arthur. I have… my kingdom. That is enough. That is all I need."

"Is it though?"

Uther scowled at his friend's question. "Well, what about you?" he turned it around, "Would you take another wife?"

A shadow passed over Gorlois' face and part of Uther regretted his words, but then again, if Gorlois could pry into his feelings, why shouldn't he do the same?

"My situation is different," Gorlois said after a moment, "Vivienne isn't dead, she left me. Technically, I still have a wife…. even if I don't know where she is."

"No one could fault you for taking another woman," Uther responded, "The marriage could be annulled, if you wish it to be."

Gorlois sucked in a breath, "I…. I don't know if I'm quite ready to take that step," He smiled bleakly, "Maybe part of me still hopes that she'll come back someday."

Uther frowned, "Would you take her back? After what she did to you?" His insides squirmed with guilt. What we did to you. He hadn't been Vivienne's first lover though, and he doubted he had been her last. There had been another child before Morgana, who had died at birth. The timing of the birth had made it apparent that she was not Gorlois' child.

Gorlois had forgiven Vivienne for the infidelity… at least the case he knew about, when most men would have had the marriage annulled at the very least, if not demanded that she be punished. And then one day when Morgana had been about five years old, Vivienne had left, disappeared without a trace, without a goodbye or an explanation.

Uther burned with anger on behalf of his friend, yet anger wasn't what he saw in Gorlois' eyes, only sadness.

"I still love her," he said quietly, "And she is still the mother of my daughter. Maybe it's foolish or soft but… yes, if she came back… I don't think I could turn her away."

Silence fell again, and they must have ridden at least a mile before Gorlois suddenly spoke up again, "It's Morgana I worry about the most, what she's missing out on… by not having a mother. Sometimes I try to be both mother and father to her, but… it's not the same. She was so young when Vivienne left, I'm not sure how much she even remembers. I think… if I were to marry again, perhaps it would be for Morgana's sake, more than my own."

Uther turned Gorlois' words over in his mind, his thoughts turning from Morgana to Arthur. He too was without a mother, and unlike Morgana, he had no chance of a memory of her to hold on to. Ygraine had taken her last breath moments after Arthur had taken his first.

And Uther couldn't claim that he had been both mother and father to Arthur. If he was being honest with himself, he had often struggled to even balance being just a father with his duties as king.

"Yes. That is something to be considered," he said, as much to himself as to Gorlois. Was Arthur missing out on something important, something vital by not having a mother? Certainly had Ygraine lived, she would have provided him with warmth and love. She would have taken naturally to the task of parenting that Uther so often struggled with, he was sure.

"But I still love her too, Gorlois," he said, without meaning to speak, "Ygraine, I mean. I don't think I could love another woman, even if I tried…"