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The King's Counsel: Arthur/Gwen PG-13

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  • The King's Counsel: Arthur/Gwen PG-13

    My first attempt at Merlinfic. Be gentle with me.

    Title: The King's Counsel
    Rating: PG-13
    Pairing: Implied Arthur/Gwen
    Spoilers: up to and including 2x04
    Summary: Uther underestimates Arthur's feelings for Gwen, but notices the attraction. Uther remarks that, as crown prince, it's Arthur's right to have his way with the servants at his leisure.

    The King's Counsel



    He’d dismissed the idea before, when the thought first came to him. It was merely his imagination, uncertain at first, until the evening of the welcoming feast. A visiting nobleman brings his lovely daughter, and though Arthur flirts with her in noncommittal fashion, Uther can’t help but notice something ingenuous about it. It’s an act. Sipping his wine, he eyes his son over the rim of the jeweled goblet, noting the way Arthur smiles at something the chatty young woman says; yet his gaze flits elsewhere. Morgana’s maid has just passed by bearing a platter of food. Uther follows his son’s line of sight. Arthur is watching the servant girl, none to stealthily, as the young noblewoman chatters on. Arthur’s only half-listening.

    He’d reprimanded Arthur harshly for his disobedience in going off to rescue the servant girl. Uther hadn’t considered it before, accepting Arthur’s reason, that he’d done it only for Morgana’s sake, and as a show of strength against Hengist and outlaws like him. Camelot would not allow the attempted kidnapping to go without answer. But now, watching his son watch the servant girl, Uther is certain. The look in his son’s eyes is unmistakable. Desire. Longing. And not for the first time, he realizes. Now that he thinks on it, his son has watched the servant girl before.

    Uther empties his wine goblet in one last gulp, excuses himself from further conversation with the visiting dignitary, and weaves his way through the various partygoers until he reaches Arthur’s side. Morgana’s maid sweeps past once more. Arthur blinks as the blonde noblewoman’s hand touches his arm, bringing him back to their conversation. She giggles. Arthur grins down at her, having no idea what she’s talking about.

    The young woman curtsies at the sight of Uther Pendragon, a shy smile curving her lips. She greets him at his approach. “My lord.”

    “Lady Elaine, would you excuse us for a moment?”

    “Of course, sire,” she bows her head, and turns to leave, offering Arthur one last flirtatious look over her shoulder.

    “Lovely girl,” Uther remarks to his son as they move to a less populated corner of the room.

    “Indeed,” Arthur replies.

    “Perhaps you should consider…”

    “Father,” Arthur interrupts. He knows where this is leading, and doesn’t intend to follow.

    Uther catches a glimpse of the servant girl, Gwen he thinks her name is, yes, that’s it, a decanter of wine in her hands. He calls to her, sensing Arthur’s posture go rigid beside him. “More wine,” he orders.

    Gwen approaches the pair and Uther holds out his goblet for her to refill. But his eyes are on his son, and the girl, noting the brief glance before Arthur looks away uncomfortably.

    Gwen takes her leave, never looking at either of them.

    “You are the crown Prince of Camelot, and with that title comes certain… privileges.” His voice lowers meaningfully.

    Arthur looks at his father, brows knitting quizzically, wondering if his father’s had too much wine. The glazed look that meets his own confirms it. His father’s a bit intoxicated.

    Uther takes a sip from the goblet, then indicates the retreating Guinevere with a nod of his head. “It is within your right as a prince,” he intones. “The servant girl. Morgana’s maid.” He gestures toward her with his wine for emphasis, sloshing a bit of the contents onto his sleeve with the movement.

    “What are you talking about, father?” He knew. But it was nearly incomprehensible that his father would suggest such a thing. Arthur silently cursed himself. He hoped his father hadn’t somehow noticed, or discovered his true feelings for Gwen. If Uther knew he’d begun to fall in love with her, it would be scandalous, and possibly dangerous for both of them.

    Uther moved in closer, facing his son now and placing a hand on his shoulder. “One day you will be king, and you will take a woman of noble blood to be your queen, perhaps even Lady Elaine would be your bride, but if it is the servant girl you desire,” Uther continues, his tone nearly conspiratorial, “it is your right to use her for your pleasure.”

    Arthur unsuccessfully tries to hide his near horror at his father’s words. “I can’t… do that,” he answers, disbelief at the entire sordid conversation. With his father no less.

    Uther chuckles at his son’s expression. “It’s not unheard of. Quite common in fact. It’s the way things are. She’s just a servant girl, Arthur. It’s as simple as ordering her to your bedchamber.”

    Arthur stares at his father for long moments, while the festivities go on around them, the voices in the background suddenly distant. Father and son, and yet they are different. So very different, and each day brings him to the realization of just how unalike they truly are. It’s not that Arthur’s never imagined having Guinevere in his bed, making love to her through the night. He has, many times, but never in the way his father is suggesting. She may be a servant, but she was not a woman to be used or forced against her will. His father would never understand.

    He wants to protest. He wants to defend Gwen’s honor, to tell his father that she’s not just a servant girl, that she’s the most amazing woman he’s ever known. That Guinevere has more nobility in her great toe than Lady Elaine has in all her fat head, but the words die on his lips. Gwen is nothing to Uther. A mere servant girl, to be used and discarded at a prince’s leisure.

    Arthur’s expression changes from shock to dismay, then softens, and he smiles, turning it into a short laugh. He needs to make his father believe the lie, and keep Gwen’s reputation from being soiled. “I think you’ve had too much wine, father,” he says, finally. “It’s quite all right, really, but I thank you for your counsel.” Not wanting to say more for fear of revealing himself, Arthur inclines his head and turns to leave, for if he doesn’t, he fears he’ll run his own father through with a sword.

    Uther watches his son walk away, exiting the great hall, not sure of what’s actually happened, but sensing uneasily, that Arthur’s been insulted by his perfectly good counsel. Things have been changing between them. He can feel it in his bones. Uther takes another long swig of wine, and returns to his guests.

    End Oneshot
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