Warnings: Implied Arthur/Gwen & Arthur/Merlin, implied noncon of Uther/Gwen & Uther/Merlin. Implied Violence.

Thank you archaeologist_d and bailieboro for the beta!

.

.

.

Spoiled goods.

Those were the words, Uther chose when referring to his son's two loves.

Both Pendragons sat across from each other at the dining table, in Uther's private chambers. The servants and food long gone; all that remained was the wine. Uther with a gloved hand, swirled the liquid inside his goblet.

Arthur's face turned ashen as he digested the words.

Both of his lovers were now 'spoiled goods.'

When the meaning finally sank in, Uther smiled. The king watching Arthur's hand growing white, gripping the arm of the chair, with utmost control, lest his hand moved to punch and rip open the face opposite.

Uther studied his son's reaction for a moment, before saying , "So they both were your lovers? I thought so. You are easier to read than you realise, Arthur. You will need to work on that skill."

Uther smiled, as his eye's caught Arthur's hands as they gripped the wood tighter.

"The blacksmith's daughter, I cannot blame you for choosing her at all. She was lovely," he began.

He carefully detailed everything to his son. How as King, he had summoned the maidservant to his room, before ordering her to undress and lie on the bed. How reluctant, she was at first. How she cried a lot, not that he minded. How she sobbed the entire time he stuck his manhood into her, tearing open her virginity, before he groaned his release and tossed her aside like the worthless woman she had become. How she did not even leave his bedroom as a proper servant should, instead running out the room filthy and used like a whore rather than asking permission to be excused.

Uther swirled the liquid inside the goblet once more as he smiled, intent on keeping the conversation about rape and abuse of power to civilized standards.

Arthur's grip on the arms of the chair, was strong enough to crack the wood, which it did, the splinters piercing his skin, encouraging droplets of blood. His grip only tightened at Uther's next words.

"Ah, and that manservant of yours...I had my doubts about your tastes at first, Arthur. Thought you might have gone mad, or that I was completely mistaken about your affections for him."

Uther lightly sipped his wine, before continuing his story. He noted his son's reaction the entire time, pleased with the results. This was not only a conversation, but an important lesson, one he had learned, years ago.

"The boy came to my room when summoned, but he was as usual late. He did not even address me properly with a bow."

Uther set his goblet down, leaning back in his chair, "His fighting spirit made up for his tardiness and lack of manners. I had to subdue him by force, throwing him against the wall, to keep him from running out the door. The servant was so weak physically, it only took two blows to the face to slow his movements to where I could properly make use of him. "

He leaned back in his chair, more relaxed now, with a slight air of poise as he described how he had dropped the boy on the bed, unwrapped the lanky male like a present, before ripping him open.

Across from him, Arthur's eyes burned into Uther's, looking like a thousand flames, awaiting the order to scorch and burn their target.

Uther took a hold of his goblet once more, holding it in the air in a mock toast, and finished saying, "There isa use for that clumsy manservant after all."

With that, Arthur was on his feet, hand gripping the hilt of his sword, smeared with blood from his fingers. The weapon was a quarter of the way unsheathed, it looked as if Arthur intended to cut asunder the man, he called father.

Arthur stood silent for several moments, breath heavy and eyes like stone, watching, as Uther sat relaxed confessing the crimes which he had committed. Offenses for which any commoner would be hanged, and Uther knew it.

Arthur's blue eyes turned dark with anger, as he slammed his sword back into its sheath. Swiftly he turned around and ran through the bedroom doors. Uther stayed silent in his chair, sipping the last of his wine...alone.

By nightfall Arthur had returned to his father. His breath was ragged from what Uther could only presume was running, sweat trickling down his face, and his injured hand was wrapped in thick bandages.

Their eyes locked for several cold, silent moments.

"Guinevere was in the kitchen…seemingly unharmed. When I approached her…"

Arthur's gaze looked down at his bandaged left hand, before his eyes snapped back to Uther's.

The next words were spoken in disbelief, with a pinch of satisfaction and touch of glee. "Gwen swears that she was unharmed. She had never been touched by you, or any other man…"

Uther nodded, gesturing his son to continue.

Voice shaking, Arthur said, "Merlin was out all day picking herbs for Gaius. There was no way you could have had the time to…"

"Yes, Arthur?"

Blue eyes, so young, seemed to search Uther's, eager for conformation and answers to unspoken questions.

"You…lied to me."

Silence.

Uther put his crown on the nightstand, before sitting in the chair overlooking the courtyard. "You need to be more careful when you are out in public, Arthur, until you are crowned, and even afterwards. All these things I have told you, could happen, not by me but by either one of your enemies or Camelot's. I can name many who would eagerly rip either of them from your hands to hurt you, if they knew."

A silent, understanding nod and Arthur seemed to have soaked in the lesson like a sponge.

With a princely bow, Arthur said, "Yes, Father." He bid Uther goodnight, hopefully leaving as a wiser and more cautious man.

At the sound of the click of the doors, Uther let out a sigh, his fingers massaging his temples, hoping that
his son had learned his lesson well...something he had had to learn from his father decades ago.

A hard, terrible time...

Uther only wished that his father's lesson had been as kind and considerate to him and his lovers, as his had been to his son...