https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13529543/1/Uther-s-Dilemma
It all started on Arthur’s 17th name-day feast. The pride he held for his son, though rarely expressed, was shining on his face. Things were looking up for his kingdom. His son was finally a man, and was the finest knight in the land (Uther would accept nothing less after all). Magic was on its way to being completely extinguished; executions being at an all-time low that year seemed to prove his point. And he had just signed a trade treaty with Nemeth which would keep his citizens well-fed that winter.
He sat there contentedly gnawing on a rabbit’s foot and mentally congratulating himself on a job well done (if he hadn’t completely dismissed it as superstitious magical nonsense, he would have thought twice about chewing on that rabbit foot, but as it were, he didn’t and so his subsequent bad luck took him by complete surprise).
“Uther!” came the booming voice of King Rodor, who, although still disputing with Uther over Gedref, was one of Camelot’s closest allies.
Rodor dropped into the empty seat next to him and looked at him with a slight smirk, “I see some congratulations are in order.”
“Hmm,” came the slightly dazed reply, “Why, thank you King Rodor.”
Uther, in his slightly inebriated state, did not even question why Rodor was congratulating him; he thought the King was also aware of Uther’s achievements and was just as happy for him as he was for himself.
“I have to confess though,” continued King Rodor, “I am slightly disappointed.”
Uther’s eyebrows furrowed and he frowned, “Why? What’s there to be disappointed about? I was under the impression that things were going well.”
“Oh yes, definitely. Arthur and Morgana seem to be getting along splendidly. In fact, they remind me of me and my wife when we were newly betrothed,” said Rodor, laughing, “It’s just that I had so hoped that when my Mithian was of age we could forge a closer alliance. She did seem fond of Arthur the last time she visited, though granted they were only children then. I’ve watched him grow up and I would be assured that Mithian would be in good hands.”
Uther’s face froze, though Rodor didn’t seem to notice and continued, “I had intended on proposing a betrothal between our heirs, but I realise that that would be a mistake. Mithian would never be able to compete with the Lady Morgana. Arthur seems smitten, as does the Lady, and as much as we could force an alliance, it would bring me no joy to come between them. Also, I’d never want Mithian to feel second best; as a father, I do hope that the man she marries will love her and I see now that Arthur’s heart belongs elsewhere.”
Rodor’s gaze was beyond Uther now, and with a sickening sense of dread, Uther turned to look (his rabbit foot slipped out of his hand and onto the floor without him noticing).
Arthur and Morgana were on the dance floor, looking very....cozy. Uther’s heart started to race uncontrollably. This could not be happening to him!
Uther had put it out of his mind. Maybe Morgana had taken pity on Arthur and decided to be nice for the night because it was his name-day. They were back to their usual bickering so Uther felt safe enough in letting the matter lie.
He was going back to his chambers after a particularly long council meeting (blast Lord Drumph for keeping them all back! Camelot and Essetir may not have been allies but they were not enemies and he was not about to incur Cenred’s wrath by building a wall between their two territories), when he heard something suspicious.
Immediately he was on his guard. Who could be sneaking around the castle this time of night? Especially this close to the council chambers. Could it be that someone was listening in?
He continued on, on his guard now, and the closer he got to the alcove (that was hidden, by the way, how did the spy know of it?), the more he was convinced that it wasn’t just one, but two persons....who sounded like they were having a hushed argument.
Stopping just before the entrance he listened carefully, but he could only hear snippets of their whispered conversation.
“No! I told you, I will not!” came the heated reply to a question he had not heard.
“Please Arthur, just this once?”
Arthur?? Uther paled...and that had sounded like...Morgana...but it couldn’t be! What would they be doing there?
“If father caught us...” he trailed off, “Morgana you know what would happen!”
“Yeah, we’d probably ... in the dungeons ourselves,” she scoffed, then pleaded, “But I don’t care! It’s worth it! I know you Arthur, I know you want to .... as much as I do. Please .... with me. .... will help distract... They won’t catch us.”
“And what if they ask what ... doing .... hour? We can’t ..... into trouble because we.......selfish desire to....”
Selfish desire to what? They couldn’t be...talking about that could they??? Uther’s heart started palpitating again and in his panic he accidentally leaned against a wall sconce and it shifted creakily.
“Did you hear that?” Morgana asked, a thread of fear in her voice, which sounded closer to Uther now.
And before Uther could finish hear Arthur saying he would investigate, he was speeding down the corridor, and back into the council chambers. He sagged against the desk, wheezing slightly. Uther hadn’t moved so fast since he was fighting for the throne. He didn’t realise kingship had made him so out of shape; it took him several minutes to catch his breath.
He sank down into his chair and tried to process what he had heard. It couldn’t be what he thought, could it? Arthur wouldn’t ruin Morgana’s virtue, would he? He didn’t know she was his sister but even so, she was a Lady! He had taught Arthur better than that! (He completely ignored the fact that it was Morgana who seemed to be instigating something.)
“No this won’t do,” he said to himself, “This won’t do at all! If Arthur wants female companionship he shall have to find it elsewhere or I will find it for him!”
Morgana was off-limits! And maybe it was his fault as well. Arthur was a man now, and as his father he should have taken it into account that he had a man’s needs. Since Morgana was the only Lady he was around, it made sense that he would gravitate towards her. Uther would need to rectify that immediately!
He was finally satisfied. Since he had heard their whispered conversation, Uther had taken it upon himself to invite several noble families with eligible daughters to the castle over the course of a few months. If he was lucky, Arthur would fall for one of those girls instead. As it were, whether he liked them or not, Arthur was obliged to pay attention to them as a courteous host. Morgana had been spending more time with her maidservant Guinevere, claiming that she would rather spend time with a servant than with those simpering fools pining after the prince. Uther, happy that she and Arthur were separated, had not berated her about being a better hostess (or becoming too friendly with the help).
He went down to the courtyard to see Arthur off. Lady Eleanor Budweiser was the latest young noble invited to spend time with the royal family and Arthur had promised to take her on a picnic.
“Arthur,” he said as he approached the prince, who was graciously helping her onto her horse, “I do hope that the Lady will have a good time today.” He raised a significant eyebrow at his son. “Of course she will father, who doesn’t enjoy good wine and good company?” Arthur retorted, conveniently choosing to forget the dressing down his father gave him for scaring the last Lady off by talking fighting strategies the entire time. (Morgana would have been interested, was his defence, which, for some reason, had made his father go silent. He was dismissed immediately.)
Uther nodded, accepting his answer, and made his way back to the castle, stopping by Gaius’s chambers to collect his medication. Gaius was confused when the King came to him some months ago with anxiety-like symptoms. He was unable to sleep, had become very jittery, and was having heart palpitations. And for some reason, whenever anyone mentioned the phrase ‘Arthur and Morgana’ the King’s left eye would start twitching. Gaius had received no explanation and so had simply treated the King without comment.
Arthur and Lady Eleanor had made good time, and when back at the castle he had escorted the Lady to her chambers. He went back out to take the horses to the stable (Uther would need to find a manservant for him soon, he really shouldn’t be doing that on his own) and met Morgana who was coming back from a ride together with her maidservant. Uther himself had gone out to the courtyard to get some fresh air (Gaius recommended it) and witnessed the entire exchange (from behind a post....as soon as he saw them together his instinct screamed hide! He would later wonder, why, as the King, did he need to hide in his own castle.)
“Morgana, Guinevere,” acknowledged Arthur, as he returned the horses, turning to help them off of theirs.
“Arthur,” Morgana replied, then smirked, “I trust your date with Lady Buttwiper went well?”
Arthur’s expression soured, “Yes, Lady Budweiser is an excellent conversationalist. Unlike some people I could mention.”
Morgana laughed, “Oh is that aimed at me your highness? I suggest you be careful now, you’ll be stuck with my conversation for a long time. Wouldn’t want to offend your future wife now would you?”
Arthur was confused, “Future wife?”
“What, did you forget? And here I thought you were a man of your word,” she feigned distress.
“The first time I bested you with the sword you promised me you would marry me. Now that Lady Buttwiper is here you’ve forgotten all about me haven’t you?” she looked at Gwen, “The Lady’s been boasting since she arrived about how smitten the prince is with her. I see now that it is true. Come Gwen, let us leave him. He’s sure to be heading right back to his sweetheart anyway.”
They exited the stables promptly, leaving a gobsmacked Arthur behind them.
“I...What?..No! We...what??? Morgana!” he called, running after them.
Uther felt sick. He remembered the promise a young Arthur had made when a 10 year old Morgana had soundly trounced him. He thought that she had forgotten about it. Had she been waiting and hoping this entire time?
Uther had given Morgana some time to cool off (truthfully, he’d actually been the one who’d needed time and a second dose of anti-anxiety potion). After dealing with some court matters the next day, he headed off to her chambers. He needed to discuss, first of all, the impropriety of calling your noble guests unkind names (especially in public), no matter how upset you were with them. And secondly, he would need to find out the depth of her feelings for Arthur once and for all. He’d thought that Arthur needed to meet other women and the problem would be solved. He hadn’t taken Morgana’s feelings into consideration.
Arriving at her chambers, he found her door slightly ajar. He was about to knock, when he heard it.
Morgana was crying. Nay, full on sobbing!
“There’s nothing more you can do my lady,” came the voice of her maidservant, “He’s already made up his mind. You tried to talk to him about it but we both know his feelings on the matter.”
“I...I know Gwen, I know,” she sniffed, “It’s just...why does he have to be so...so cruel?” Her voice cracked at the end.
Uther didn’t wait to hear anymore. He had his answers.
Lady Buttwiper would have to go!
And Arthur found himself with extra patrols, much to his dismay.
Uther was now becoming sullen and withdrawn and the bags under his eyes were fairly noticeable. What should his next move be? Morgana and Arthur usually found any opportunity to fight with each other. Was that the way the kids were courting these days? He figured Arthur had rejected her otherwise she wouldn’t be so upset. But Arthur really was a man of his word, and eventually he would accept her.
Which brought him back to his dilemma. He couldn’t separate them too obviously, or people would start to question his motivations; many of his advisors would undoubtedly think it an appropriate match. Neither could he admit that Morgana was his daughter. It was far too late for that now and he had a reputation to uphold. He could betroth one of them to another noble, however King Rodor might not look favourably upon his actions and he couldn’t risk bad blood between their two kingdoms. But if he didn’t do something it was likely that they would be too far gone, and he loathed the thought of breaking their hearts if they ever came to him and he had to forbid them from marrying.
Well apparently a father could shirk his duties to his kingdom in favour of stalking his children. Yes, that was his big plan. For now, he’d watch and wait. Anytime he saw them getting too close or too friendly, he would be there! He hadn’t figured out how to break their affections yet, but he could ensure nothing untoward happened between them in the meantime.
Except this plan was terrible. He was poor at stealth, for one. And all he ever caught them doing was arguing. He was starting to get frustrated too. Following them around was exhausting. And he was no closer to figuring out how to separate their affections.
If they even had any at this point because he was getting a headache listening to them argue again. This time over who was better at skipping rocks.
Rocks! Why would royals need to know how to skip rocks like some peasant? He was so busy rambling to himself he didn’t even notice his court physician looking at him in alarm.
“Your Majesty. Your Majesty!”
“Huh, wha-?” he shook his head.
“Are you okay?” Gaius said, concern evident in his voice, “I called you several times already but you seemed to be.....” Well it was probably best he didn’t finish that sentence.
“Well now that you mention it Gaius, I seem to have a rather nasty headache,” he confessed, “I do believe I’ll need something to help me get through dinner tonight.”
“Take care of him, will you Gaius. I think I’ll need to request we dine in private tonight. Father doesn’t look very well,” said Arthur, making the King jump terribly.
“Good call Arthur,” said Morgana, “It can just be the three of us tonight.”
He had forgotten why he had a headache in the first place. He was spying on Arthur and Morgana.
Who apparently had made up in the short space of time he had been conversing with Gaius as they both seemed to be in agreement. They were like a pendulum. One minute they were arguing over rocks and the next they were amicable as if nothing ever happened.
“Come on now my Lady,” said Gwen gently, “You are expected at the celebrations.”
“Just tell them I’m not well Gwen,” said Morgana sullenly, looking at herself in the mirror and shuddering in disgust.
“It’s not so bad, really...well it is...but you look lovely anyway!” Gwen rambled, as she caught the look.
“Please Gwen,” said Morgana with an unladylike snort, “you can’t tell me this isn’t the most hideous thing you’ve ever seen.”
“Well...” she hesitated, it made no sense to try and hide her feelings; Morgana already knew.
“It is. But you did lose to Prince Arthur. I hate to say it my Lady, but all the years that he’s been training means he’s had a lot of practice with the sword. Unfortunately we don’t get to do it as much do we?” she said.
Morgana sighed. Gwen was right. She did lose the bet with Arthur and unfortunately she knew if she didn’t attend his name-day celebration wearing this ugly dress then he’d come up with something worse later on, so as humiliating as it might be, she would have to attend.
She knew it was foolish letting Arthur goad her into that fight. Arthur practised with his knights every day and was considered the best swordsman in the realm. She was banned from using any sort of weapon since she was 13 years old, and had to resort to sneaking out with Gwen to the forest once in a blue moon to get any sort of practice in at all.
But when Arthur accused her of being nothing but a pampered girl (as if it were a grievous insult to be a girl), she momentarily lost her senses. Now she was forced to wear Lady Melanina’s ‘gift’. Granted if the sleeves were normal the dress wouldn’t be nearly as bad but they were so poofy she looked like the court jester if the court jester was a 40 year old matron. And worse, the dress was lined in velvet. She scoffed internally. Velvet! Velvet was hot. She’d be lucky if she wasn’t smelling like one of Uther’s horses by the time the night was over. She had stuffed it to the back of her closet and never intended to wear it, so not only was it hideous....but the scent of it was musty and old. Gwen was forced to spray copious amounts of perfume on it.
How Arthur even remembered that she owned that dress she would never know, but considering it was Arthur he was probably gleefully waiting for the day he could use it against her. His 17th name-day was a big deal and all of Camelot would be feasting. They also had many foreign nobles in attendance. She certainly knew how to pick her fights.
“Well there’s nothing for it Gwen, lead the way,” she groused.
The moment Arthur realised she was in the room his eyes widened and she could tell he was struggling to contain his laughter. Luckily for her he was in conversation with King Rodor and had to hold a serious expression. Except, with a wickedly gleeful smile, he led the King straight to her.
“King Rodor I believe you know our Lady Morgana,” he said, shooting her a grin.
“Yes indeed I do. I hope you are well My Lady,” King Rodor said politely, “It has been such a long time. We should arrange for you to visit with my Mithian one of these days. I’m sure she would be delighted with your company. She had a wonderful time the last time she was here.”
Morgana forced herself to ignore Arthur and she put on a polite smile, “I would be honoured your highness. Princess Mithian was a breath of fresh air. I’d happily accept a visit. It would be nice to have someone other than Arthur around, and maybe he’d be on his best behaviour with a Princess in the castle.” She couldn’t resist a jab at him.
“Nonsense,” he said, and smiled at King Rodor, “I am always on my best behaviour. But I understand why My Lady is upset. I have been remiss. It was terribly rude of me not to notice sooner, but you look absolutely lovely this evening. Wouldn’t you agree your highness?” Morgana could see his temple popping with the effort not to burst out laughing.
But clearly the King didn’t because he very diplomatically stated that the Lady Morgana always looked lovely.
In an effort to avoid having to converse with any more important people while looking like a complete disaster, she left Arthur with the King and made for the table. Taking the most discrete seat she could find, she filled her plate and began eating, hoping that it would act as a deterrent.
Except Arthur couldn’t even let her have that, could he?
As soon as the last morsel left her plate he was there.
“Would the Lady Morgana honour me with a dance?” he said, bowing slightly so that only she could see his smirk.
She fixed him with her deadliest glare and accepted his hand begrudgingly. People were watching after all, she couldn’t refuse the prince on his name-day; it would be unseemly. And he knew it. All eyes would be on them. Which meant that everyone would see her in that dress. Which is exactly what Arthur wanted.
But that didn’t mean she would simply give in. No she would dance all right.
“Ouch!” he grunted, “That was my foot.”
“I know,” she smiled, “I seem to have two left feet today. Begging your highness’ pardon.”
After several more minutes of her stepping on his feet, he pulled her closer, so he could talk without the other couples nearby overhearing, and whispered, “What are you doing?”
“Why I’m dancing Arthur, can you not tell?” she said, laughingly, and then leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I will get you back for this. Don’t think this is over! Thanks to you, I’ll need to have Gwen lug water all the way from the well again to draw me a bath tonight since I’ll be smelling like a troll.”
It was his turn to laugh. “Oh, so, nothing new then?” he whispered, wincing as she stepped on his foot extra hard as payback.
Neither of them noticed King Uther and King Rodor looking at them, one in horror and the other with fondness. All either King saw was Arthur and Morgana dancing closely and whispering sweet nothings to make each other laugh.
“Arthur you must help me save her!” she cried, “All you have to do is get the keys. I’ll let her out myself!”
“No! I told you, I will not!” said Arthur. He didn’t want to meddle.
“Please Arthur, just this once?” she begged, tears threatening to fall.
He hesitated. He knew Morgana felt strongly about it. He himself didn’t feel it was right. He hated to admit it but actually, he knew his father was wrong. The woman was very old. She could barely hurt a fly let alone steal away with Mr. Erksom’s cow. And of course the farmer claimed it was sorcery. He knew he would never be able to prove that that little old lady stole a huge cow and hid it in her tiny hovel. His father was going to burn an innocent lady because the farmer most probably forgot to tie his cow and it wandered away.
“If father caught us...” he trailed off, “Morgana you know what would happen!”
“Yeah, we’d probably be in the dungeons ourselves,” she scoffed, then pleaded, “But I don’t care! It’s worth it! I know you Arthur, I know you want to help her as much as I do. Please come with me. Gwen will help distract the guards. They won’t catch us.”
“And what if they ask what Guinevere’s doing there at that hour? We can’t get Guinevere into trouble because we have a selfish desire to take the law into our own hands.”
She was about to argue that it wasn’t selfish at all but suddenly there was a creaking sound and she unconsciously moved closer to the entrance of the alcove.
“Did you hear that?” she turned fearful eyes on Arthur. What if they were overheard?
“I’ll be right back,” he said, “Stay here.” He peered cautiously out of the alcove, eyes trained on a slip of white going around the corner.
Why did it look like his father’s clothes?
Strangely enough, they got away with freeing the old lady. What they didn’t get away from was the King’s sudden hospitality. Uther kept inviting nobles with eligible daughters.
Arthur was getting tired of having to entertain them. Most of them were emboldened by the King’s invitation and thought it meant that a betrothal would surely be forthcoming, and so they all tried to curry favour with him. Two of them even tried to seduce him! He would rather be training with his knights or going hunting as opposed to sitting around with noble ladies and fending off their advances. Of course many of them were attractive but Arthur had no desire to be with anyone he did not love. Also he knew the moment he accepted any offer, they would go running to their parents who would demand his hand in marriage for despoiling their daughter. Arthur had no intention of marrying just yet.
So imagine his surprise when Morgana brought up his childhood promise to marry her!
“Now that Lady Buttwiper is here you’ve forgotten all about me haven’t you?” she accused.
If he wasn’t so shocked he’d find the nickname funny. Morgana always had a way with words.
“The Lady’s been boasting since she arrived about how smitten the prince is with her. I see now that it is true. Come Gwen, let us leave him. He’s sure to be heading right back to his sweetheart anyway,” they exited the stables promptly, leaving a gobsmacked Arthur behind them.
“I...What?..No! We...what??? Morgana!” he called, running after them, barely paying his poorly concealed father any notice. He had bigger things to worry about than why the King was skulking behind a post.
He thought Morgana didn’t want to get married. To anyone!
They had a head start but he ran swiftly and as he rounded the corner he was surprised to see that they had stopped. In fact, they were leaning against each other and laughing heartily, eyes watering and faces red.
“Y..you should have seen the look on your face,” Morgana howled.
Normally, he would be angry, but all he felt at the moment was intense relief. Marriage was no joke when you were in his position. If Morgana was serious, he would actually have to follow through with his promise, which he was not keen on doing but he was a man of his word.
“Soooo.... this means you don’t want me to marry you, right?” he said, needing the clarification anyway.
“Oh heavens no! We would be a terrible match!”
*************************
Morgana stormed into her chambers, with Gwen following anxiously.
“How could he!” she raged.
“He’s the King, his word is law,” Gwen said, knowing that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear.
“Exactly! His word is law. He didn’t have to do that!” she said, pacing angrily.
“Morgana...” Gwen said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder in support. She sank down onto the bed, suddenly weary, grateful to have Gwen by her side.
“Why Gwen? Why does it have to be like that?” she said, and the tears started flowing.
“He’s only a boy. A child,” she whimpered, “A hungry child. It’s not fair!”
“I don’t know my Lady, life is rarely ever fair,” Gwen said, stroking her hair as she cried out in rage and sorrow, “In this life, fair is what the King thinks is fair.”
Gwen was well aware of what it was like to be hungry. And she knew Lady Morgana had more compassion in her little finger than King Uther did in his entire body, though she would never voice the thought out loud. She couldn’t blame the child for stealing the bread. Morality goes away in the face of hunger. It was one loaf of bread but it would cost him 5 lashes. For a tiny, malnourished boy like him, it could well kill him. But the King’s word was law and he declared stealing was stealing, no matter the context.
“There’s nothing more you can do my lady,” Gwen said sadly, “He’s already made up his mind. You tried to talk to him about it but we both know his feelings on the matter.”
“I...I know Gwen, I know,” she sniffed, “It’s just...why does he have to be so...so cruel?” Her voice cracked at the end.
Gwen had no answer that would be able to satisfy her, so she simply said nothing. (Saying nothing couldn’t be counted as treason)
*************************
The King was looking stressed. He had dark circles under his eyes and she heard Gaius say something about anxiety. Morgana savagely hoped that on some level he was feeling guilty for what he had done. She certainly made no secret of what she thought of his actions.
Arthur was beginning to wonder if his father had lost it. Several times he caught the man ‘hiding’ and watching while he was speaking to Morgana (more like arguing with but same difference really). Why did the King feel the need to spy on them? Did he think they were plotting to release more treasonous sorcerers?
And if he had to spy on them did he need to do it so obviously? He was the King, all he had to do was assign it to some nondescript servant.
He was actually quite relieved to see Gaius passing by, and sent him over to check on the King.
The King confessed to having a headache, and really, he didn’t look so good. He shared a look with Morgana and they both decided that maybe it would be better if, for the time being, they had dinner in private with the King. They really didn’t need more people seeing him that way. Camelot might start to look weak.
Dinner that evening, was rather unusual. For the King’s sake, she and Arthur decided to be as least antagonistic towards each other as they could. Though it didn’t stop them fighting for the last chicken leg. When Arthur conceded defeat to Morgana, graciously in his opinion, the King stopped eating and just stared at them. (It was gracious in the King’s opinion too though they didn’t realise it.)
“Have you noticed father’s been acting kind of strange lately?” Arthur questioned silently, concern evident on his face.
“Now that you mention it, he has, hasn’t he?” Morgana replied, as she and Arthur both surreptitiously glanced at the King.
After a while of him staring she gave up and continued eating. Arthur bet her that he could finish his plate faster and so they started shoveling down their food.
They momentarily stopped trying to outdo each other however, as a low groan escaped the King, and he flopped straight down into his mashed potatoes, which had looked relatively untouched. Luckily for Uther, they were the only ones dining with him that night, so nobody else was there to witness the King’s moment of....whatever that was.
“Father...” Arthur said hesitantly, “Are you okay?” After a few minutes of silence, he reached for a fork and was tentatively about to prod the King when Uther shot up, face ringed with mashed potatoes.
“I’m fine son, why wouldn’t I be?” said Uther in a high pitched voice.
Arthur refrained from mentioning the potatoes and the eye that was now twitching steadily.
“Okaaay I’m full. I think I’ll have an early night your majesty. By your leave, I bid you goodnight,” said Morgana, putting down her utensils.
Arthur followed suit and made to leave but, with every intention of discussing the King and his weird stalker-ish behaviour for the past few weeks (not to mention his apparent breakdown), Morgana held his arm and brought him to a stop.
“Arthur will you be a dear and walk me to my chambers?”
Normally he’d have had some snappy remark to that request but the King’s strange behaviour was on his mind so he acquiesced, looping his arm through hers like a proper gentleman and escorting her out of the dining hall.
Before clearing the entrance Morgana leaned closer to whisper, “We need to talk.” To which he solemnly agreed.
Neither of them noticed the King staring in horror at their relatively cordial exchange.
“No...” he whispered, clutching his hair tightly, “No...no no no nooo.”
“I can’t be my own in-law!” he cried.
Half an hour later Morgana’s maidservant Gwen came looking for her mistress and instead found the King curled up in the foetal position and whimpering.
She hastily backed out of the room. Knowing King Uther, he might chop her head off for witnessing that.
“I saw nothing,” she declared to herself, and scurried away in search of Morgana elsewhere.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxo
So this was a plot bunny that I needed to get out, though granted it did not turn out exactly the way I wanted it to. But anyway, I am all for torturing Uther in any way. Let him be confused about if their fighting is flirting now. He deserves anything coming to him.
