The young man swiftly entered the chamber. All turned and bowed their heads respectively as he approached the high thrown in the center of the room. As he sat, he wondered if it was truly his time.
"Sire?" A bald man in a deep blue cloak approached the fledgling king. "Permission to speak?"
"Permission granted."
"Sire, may I ask what news you have of the king's health?"
Cenred barley moved as he answered the man's question. His face showed minimal emotion. "My father passed this morning. I was with him in his final moments."
Silence overtook the room as the courtiers digested the news. A few looked to each other and whispered nervously while others peered at the young king who stared blankly into the distance.
"My Lord, may I ask-"
"No." Cenred stood suddenly. He strode towards the door. "This is all I wished to discuss today. You are all dismissed."
"My Lord, do you not wish to discuss the details or your coronation?"
"I expect you'll take care of the whole affair." He paused with his hand on the door handle. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have important business to attend to." He slipped through the door, not looking back at his father's court. He had failed to tell them that there would be some serious changes after his coronation. He didn't need to tell them. They would find out eventually.
He made his way through the castle halls, refusing to acknowledge anyone who tried to speak to him. They would all say the same thing. 'I'm so sorry for your loss.' Cenred scoffed at the thought. The death of his father was no real loss. That man hadn't spared him a thought in years. His absence in death was not a shift from how Cenred saw him in life. As the second son, his life hadn't mattered. He was always just a spare. He was sure the moment his brother showed the slightest sign of illness his father would turn his attention to his second son immediately. However, as circumstance would have it, the skirmish that ended his brother's life had also ended his father's. Cenred would never forget the look in his father's eyes as he realized his youngest son would be the one to ascend the throne. Cenred had whispered in his father's ear so only he could hear. "It's too late to care, father. And if I lead this kingdom to glory or to it's downfall it won't matter to me. Either way... I win. Goodbye, father."
Cenred paused before leaving the castle to pull his cloak over his head. He slipped away, unnoticed. The sun had only just began to set over the trees as the young king made his way through the darkening woods. He stopped when he came to a small clearing where a cloaked figure waited.
"Morgause!"
The figure turned and removed her hood. The young woman smiled at him. "Cendred... is all well?"
"The king and the crown prince are dead."
She nodded. "As promised."
"And I can assure you... under my rule you will be granted protection from Uther's recent laws."
"He rules with grief and an overblown revenge. I believe you to be a more suitable man."
"My father and brother would have fallen for Uther's lies. I am not so susceptible. In fact... I want to offer you a place in my royal court."
Morgause looked sharply in his direction. "A place... in your court?"
"Yes. I want somone like you to guide me... to teach me..."
"Teach you?" She looked curiously at him. "Teach you what?"
Cendred pursed his lips. "Teach me... magic."
Morgause shied away. "So... King Cenred. It is not my guidance you seek. It is my power."
"What? No... I-"
The enchantress laughed. "Save your words, king. Even if I wanted to I would not be able to teach the art of sorcery. Either magic is a part of you, or it isn't."
He reached out to her. "Morgause, please..."
She held up her hand. "Do not insult me any further. I will not be a part of your court just so I can do your bidding. Not me. There are plenty of low life sorcerers who will perform their tricks for enough money."
"I don't want them Morgause. I want you. People will do anything for enough money. No matter how much I give them there will always be someone willing to pay more. They will never be trust worthy."
Morgause raised her eyebrows. "And you think me trustworthy?"
"I don't know what I see in you."
She stepped closer. "Do not take me fore granted, Cenred."
As she approached, Cenred took a few tentative steps back. "Morgause... you know I don't-"
"Because know this... the moment you cease to be of use to me, I will turn on you with a vengeance and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I made you king, Cenred. That is something that I chose to do. Do not forget that you had absolutely no hand in your fate."
Cenred stared at her, shocked and intimidated. He thought he had made an ally in the enchantress, but it seemed...
"Say you understand me, Cenred."
"Yes, I understand."
"Good." She retreated. "As of now... I have no need of you." She waved her hand as if to whisk him away. "Do what you will. When I am in need of you, I will find you." She walked out of the clearing and disappeared into the now dark forest.
Cenred stayed where he was, shocked by the situation he found himself in. This was not how he had imagined this meeting in his head. He had hoped to be on at least equal ground with the enchantress. He did something for her so she did something for him. But, no. Morgause had taken advantage of him. He balled his fists and clenched his teeth. What was he to do? He did not like that he was not in control. That was the reason he had sought out Morgause in the first place, to be rid of his overbearing father and brother. He was not going to tolerate being a piece in someone else's game.
He cautiously made his way back to the castle, all the while thinking of a plan. How could he break free from Morgause's grasp just as he broke free from his father's? Morgause would be at his mercy, he was sure of it. In a matter of time Morgause, or rather anyone who challenged his authority, would wish they never crossed him in the first place.
---+---
Arthur shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to his father. The laborious council meeting had dragged on for far longer than he would have liked. He was meant to be training with the knights. However, according to his father, there are more important skills a person must learn if they hope to become a successful king. Brute force isn't always enough. He looked around the men at the rectangular table. The young prince was surrounded by old, dusty men who might have been rich in wisdom but, in his opinion, lacked the appearance that would garner his attention. He resented the fact that wisdom was reserved for elders. He admitted that wisdom was often gained from experience, but you shouldn't have to be ancient to have learned from something.
A bearded man stood as he began to speak - a long speech about relations with neighboring kingdoms and something about that season's harvest and winter stores. Arthur's eyes fixated on the window behind him and the warm golden light beckoning him outside.
"Arthur?"
Arthur snapped out of his trance to find his father staring at him.
"Yes, father?"
"I asked you a question."
"Uhhh... right..."
"Were you paying attention?"
Arthur looked nervously around at the pairs of eyes bearing into him. "Of course," he answered.
"Then tell me, what do you think we should do?"
"About what?"
"The winter stores," his father said, exasperated.
"What about them?"
The king sighed. "As Geoffrey already stated, this year's harvest has, so far, been less than fruitful. What should we do to make sure we have enough food for the winter?"
Arthur thought for a moment. "Even though we have enough food now, we can't afford to be too comfortable. We must be frugal even before the winter months. If we start saving now... then we will be able to save enough for the colder months without the Camelot citizens growing too hungry."
Uther nodded, slightly frustrated his son was able to perform well even if he hadn't been listening. "Thank you all for meeting today," he said. "The council is dismissed."
Chairs scraped the ground as the council members rose from their seats. Arthur made an effort to follow but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his father scowling at him.
"I need a word with you before you head off to training." He pulled him aside. Arthur tensed, preparing for a fierce lecture. Instead, he was surprised to see a look of sympathy on his father's eyes. "Arthur, I know better than anyone how dismal these council meetings can be. Swinging a sword around is, by far, the easiest job of a king. As much as you might not want to, you must listen and respect those who are here to help you."
Arthur sighed. "You're right father. I'm sorry. It's just such a nice day and-"
"Indeed it is, which is why I won't keep you for much longer. However, I did want to inform you, I have decided to send you on your first mission."
Arthur's face lit up. "Really?"
"Yes. Now, if you were paying attention, you should have already been aware of this. You will be under the lead of Sir Leon."
"What?! No! Father, I can lead myself."
Uther chuckled. "No, you can not. You are still young-"
"Sir Leon's barely two years older!"
"And somehow he manages to be twice as responsible in leading a patrol." Uther glanced over Arthur's shoulder at the nobles waiting for him. "I can't explain the goals of the patrol again, not now. Ask Sir Leon to fill you in on the details. You leave in a few days."
Arthur looked at the floor. "Yes, father."
Uther looked pityingly at his son in response to his forlorn tone. "Don't fret, my son. You are still young. Preparation takes time. I know that when your time comes... you will be more than ready."
Arthur blushed. "Thank you, father."
"Now, off you go." Uther gestured towards the door. Arthur happily charged through in the direction of the training field.