A little adventure into "what if" Uther realized Arthur and Gwen were and in love – and what if he had a heart after all.

This will be a multi-chapter fic... Your thoughts are appreciated.

- Lady Winter

Uther Pendragon, King of the mighty kingdom of Camelot, paced restlessly in his study. His robes swished around his legs, making a soft whispering noise and he glanced again towards the window that was opened slightly to allow a soft breeze to stir the room.

There were dozens of things the King should have been doing that moment. He had several new addendums to the tax laws to consider and a list of issues the court had brought to him to make judgment over, but he simply couldn't focus on them. His mind wandered because Camelot's crown prince was late.

It was hard to pinpoint an exact time of return when Arthur and his knights rode out on patrol, and even more difficult when they left on a specific errand as they had this morning. Despite the lack of normally being able to say that a party was not on schedule, Uther knew in his heart that Arthur and his men were definitively late.

The Prince, six of his best knights, and his manservant Merlin had set out very early, before most of the slumbering kingdom was awake, to deal with a band of mercenaries that were reported to have set up camp in one of the gullies not too far from Camelot.

As the sun crept towards the horizon, marking it's journey towards night, and Uther felt a familiar tingle of fear in his stomach as he wondered whether or not he'd sent his only son to his death. It wasn't the first time he'd suffered such discomfort, and if Arthur were to return, it would not be the last. Such was Uther's burden – to send his son into danger, all to prove that he was a warrior and a man fit to lead a kingdom in war. It was what Uther often referred to as a necessary evil, but in the waiting hours, he could only admit to himself that what he felt was the evil.

The court and the castle's staff always assumed that Uther had no care when Arthur went off on one of his little forays, and that the King locked himself away in his study without another thought of the blond prince, but Uther sequestered himself there, on the south side of the castle because with the windows open, he was able to hear the horses on the flagstone when the hunting or war parties would return. There, in his study, he could race to the window, unobserved in his obvious weakness to look down into the courtyard to see if his child was safe.

This day was no different and Uther waited impatiently to hear the sounds of horses, but when none came, he forced himself to sit. Idly, he grasped a sheet of fine paper and tried to focus on the list of grievances that Sir Allen had against Lord Malfrey. Though he read the words, his mind comprehended none of them, but his impatience finally came to an end when he heard the clatter of hooves below and the normally graceful King knocked over his chair in his urgency to reach the window.

He reached the window in time to hear the closest guards hailing Arthur and his men and his eyes searched out his son.

And then his stomach dropped into his knees. All of the knights were accounted for, but they had clearly been in a battle. Their armor was tarnished, and their horses were splattered with mud and dried blood. It was Arthur who drew his attention.

His son was sitting upright on his favorite horse, but he was listing to one side, an arm wrapped protectively around his chest and blood streaked his armor. Uther wanted to take better stock of the young man, but he couldn't see well enough and in a moment, he dashed for the door.

He received a few frightened and confused looks as he rushed through the castle halls, his robes billowing behind him and he cursed his need of finery. Soon enough though, he was through the outer doors and he hurried down the steps, two at a time to reach his son.

Arthur's eyes were half lidded as his manservant, who was clutching his left arm tightly to his own chest as if it were broken, was trying to convince his master to wait to dismount until help arrived.

"Arthur! What has happened? My son!" Uther called out as his feet finally reached the scene.

At the sound of his voice, Arthur's eyes focused and he turned his head towards the sound, and Uther could see an ugly bruise on the right side of his face, stretching from his temple to his son's strong jaw line. He had dried blood in his hair and despite the attempt at clarity, he still looked disoriented.

"My Lord," he responded, trying to sound crisp and Uther was impressed with his son's fortitude. Despite obviously being injured, Arthur put on a brave face for his men and never lost his decorum. "The mercenaries have been taken care of," he said proudly. "Your knights have performed with bravery."

"You've all done well Arthur, now tell me what's happened to you," Uther insisted as the boy swayed dangerously. Merlin moved instantly closer to his master's horse, as if with his bad arm, he'd be able to catch Arthur if he fell.

"Just a tangle with their leader…" Arthur responded dryly, his face pale and Uther reached up and placed strong hands on his son.

"You, boy," he said, summoning Arthur's manservant who was watching his master with trepidation. "Find out what's keeping Gaius," he ordered even as Arthur lost his battle with pride and slipped sideways in his saddle. Only Uther's grip on him kept the Prince from falling straight off the horse.

As Merlin raced off, Uther eased Arthur off his horse, realizing just how heavy the young man had become.

"I'm fine father…" Arthur protested quietly, but Uther caught the sharp intake of breath that indicated his son was in pain.

"Of course you are," Uther responded and glanced over his shoulder wildly for his court physician, wondering where the man could be. Instead of seeing Gaius though, he saw one of the handmaidens – Guinivere, Morgana's maid – rushing through one of the dark tunnels, a small bag in hand, her skirts tangling around her legs. He noted in some surprise there was fear in her eyes, which were riveted on his son, and he recalled briefly that she'd been training with the healer.

"Really father…" Arthur tried to assure, but was cut off when Gwen arrived, frantic eyes roving over his body, and she opened her mouth to speak, then seemed to see Uther for the first time and stared in shock, as if she'd just been about to commit treason.

Uther couldn't help but stare at her for a moment, trying to figure out if he'd missed something.

Instead, she began to speak so rapidly, that at first he had a hard time following her. "Sire…I came as quickly as I could – Gaius sent me on ahead of him, he's gathering some more things…" she said quickly. "What's happened," she said, turning to Arthur, her eyes only for him.

Arthur had a strange look in his eyes as he looked down at her, one that Uther could almost interpret as being that he couldn't have been more happy to see anyone than the servant standing in front of him.

"It's nothing to worry about," the prince said, swaying dangerously. "Just a flesh wound," he added at the doubtful look on the maid's face.

"Let me see," she urged, reaching up with a strange sort of familiarity to try to pry his gloved hand away from the source of the blood and Uther noted the increased trembling that wracked Arthur's limbs.

It looked as if Arthur were about to protest when suddenly and without any warning, his legs gave out and he fell. The servant gasped and Uther had to move quickly to keep Arthur's head from striking the flagstone, himself ending up in a very un-King-like heap on the ground, cradling his son.

"What's happened?" he demanded as the maid fell to her knees, reaching out to check for signs of life, her dark skin paling in strange manner. She sat back on her heels a moment later, a look of worry on her face.

"He's fainted, my Lord – we must get him to Gaius immediately," she responded, glancing around to find all of the Arthur's men staring down in worry. Uther ignored them, not at all surprised by their concern – Arthur inspired a great deal of loyalty and love amongst his people, including his knights.

He didn't hesitate, and quickly he lifted Arthur off the ground, pulling his son tight against him, his chest tightening as he remembered the last time he'd been forced to carry Arthur like this – after he'd been bitten by the Questing Beast. Unbidden, the fear and despair that he'd felt came rushing back, and Uther had to fight to keep the knights and servants that had gathered from seeing the tears wetting his eyes.

"Clear the way!" he roared instead, drowning his fear in anger. "And you," he said meanly to the serving girl – "Tell Gaius he'd better be prepared and to have him report to Arthur's rooms immediately."

The order sent the girl scampering off ahead of him as he bore his son's weight, armour and all, into the castle. The climb to Arthur's room seemed to take forever as Uther's imagination played through all sorts of scenarios about what kind of wound was hiding under the chain-mail and the breast-plate his son wore. His legs were shaking by the time he finally reached his son's heavy wooden door, and as he wondered how he was going to open it with his son held carefully in his arms, it was flung open by Merlin, using his good arm to do the task.

Uther didn't want to dwell on it at that moment, but Merlin was a most valuable servant and was beyond loyal to Arthur. Of course, as King, he could never admit that, and the boy was still a bumbling, clumsy idiot a lot of the time, but he as unfailing in his service to the Prince. And there he was again, clearly wounded, still hovering as Uther slipped through the door, careful not to bang Arthur's head.

Once inside, he saw at once that someone had lit a fire in the great hearth in the room and that Gaius was already there, a small table covered in various medical and healing supplies. He looked up at once when Uther arrived and moved forward, revealing Gwen, who was standing behind him, readying a bowl of warm water.

"Put him on the bed, sire," Gaius said quickly. "I'll need help with his armour."

Uther did as the healer asked, knowing that the only time he'd ever take orders from his old friend was when it came to the health and well being of Arthur or Morgana. Normally, he would have called upon Merlin to help with his master's armour, but the boy was in no shape to assist.

With as much gentleness as he could muster, Uther gently laid his precious son on the bed, not even thinking of the fact that the fine white sheets would be ruined. Immediately, he went to work trying to unfasten and remove all of Arthur's heavy armour, and looked up to find he was being assisted. He was surprised to see Gwen studiously working on the ties that held the armour on, with intimate knowledge of how it worked, and although it surprised him at first, he remembered that her father had been a blacksmith and that no doubt, she had often handled armour before.

In moments, they were pealing away the armour and it took all three of them to lift Arthur up enough to free him from the chain mail that was supposed to protect his body, but there was a good sized whole in the front, slick with blood.

As soon as they had it off, Gaius produced a knife and began to slice away the blue tunic that Arthur had been wearing beneath the armour. The wound beneath was garish. It was a good sized puncture hole right above Arthur's left hip, and it was oozing blood at an alarming rate. The rest of his chest was pockmarked with bruises, but the primary wound was what was most frightening.

Uther's head snapped up, his eyes flying to Merlin. "What happened to him?"

For his part, Merlin looked absolutely devastated. "He said it wasn't that bad…" the man-servant mumbled, and Uther thought he heard the boy says something like "prat" and "I should have stopped that!" but he couldn't be sure. To say the least, the boy looked sticken as he stared at his master's wounds.

"I asked what happened!" the King roared, not meaning to further upset the servant, just simply wanting an answer. Uther had learned long ago that fear in other usually got you what you wanted, and the servant's wide dark eyes focused on him, round as saucers.

"I'm not sure," Merlin admitted. "They outnumbered us, so everything was very confusing, but Arthur…the Prince…" he corrected, "….was tangling with their leader, and I think he had a spear of some sort…"

"That would account for this wound," Gaius affirmed, drawing Uther's attention back to his son.

"How bad is it, Gaius?" he asked, hoping he didn't sound too weak in front of the servants.

"He's lost a lot of blood, sire. How long has he been unconscious?" the old man asked, already at work cleaning up the damaged area, carefully avoiding answering the King's question.

"He fainted in the courtyard," Gwen answered for the king, and Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive – that's good though. If he managed to stay conscious this long, then that's a good sign. If I can stop the bleeding… But then, there is always the risk of infection," the physician warned. "Merlin, please run down and bring me up some oris root – I'll need it to stem the bleeding," he ordered, and in a flash, the boy was gone.

Uther hovered nearby, clenching his fists as Gwen handed Gaius whatever he asked for. When the King began to pace, the physician cleared his throat.

"Sire, I will need no distractions while I attempt to stop this bleeding. If you wouldn't mind, I can come and find you when I am finished."

Uther stared at him for a moment, and thought he saw the servant girl give Gaius a grateful look, but he couldn't be sure. He wanted to tell Gaius that nothing could tear him from Arthur's side, but that wasn't true if he was honest with himself. As King, he had to at least try to hold some emotional detachment – even if it was his own child, lying there bleeding on the bed.

"Fine, but you will inform me immediately of any changes. Is that understood?" he demanded harshly, clenching his teeth when he imagined bad news.

"Of course, my Lord. I assure you that you will know as soon as I have news, but right now, Prince Arthur needs me."

Uther nodded curtly, and stared the servant girl directly in the eyes, surprised at how evenly she held his gaze, but without a trace of insubordination. "You are to serve Gaius like you serve me, is that understood?" he told her, his voice as sharp as a knife, and she nodded quickly, though he got the distinct feeling her service to Gaius would not be because it was ordered of her.

With one last reluctant look at his son, he stepped forward and hesitantly reached out to push a clump of blood clotted hair out of Arthur's face, but seeing that Gwen was watching him with interest, he snatched his hand back and turned fluidly towards the door, his heart aching with every step he took away from Arthur's bedside. It was times like these that he simply wished he was a father to a son, not a King to a prince.