Welcome

[Uther Pendragon]

The dining hall was set for three today, the chairs crowded around on one end instead of the usual distance he insisted on. It was it is its usual dimly lit space. A few candles and torches burned from the walls and chandeliers. The moonlit sky outside gave its own eerie glow and Uther relished in it. After ordering servants to call his children to dinner for that evening, Uther had been waiting patiently for the day to pass. He was no sentimental fool but what old man did not enjoy even the briefest of moments with his family? It had been all too long since the three of them had enjoyed a supper together, they all were always much to busy nowadays. Tonight though, he'd tell them about Irick, inquire after the Knight's and training and make sure Morgana's nightmares were getting better.

Tonight he'd explain the treaty and drink wine with them whilst discussing trivial matters. When had they last done that? He was sure Arthur had been a child of twelve at least; not the last time they had eaten together but the last time they had eaten together and actually talked about something that wasn't about Camelot. Back then most of the chat had been listening to Morgana and Arthur arguing like siblings and kicking one another under the table, he was more than relieved they’d grown up since then.
It must have been the Byrne's really, to make him want to relive those old memories and dine with them again as a family. He'd seen the look on Eunan's face when he'd mentioned his lack of an heir and knew it was something else entirely... He too had worn that look some twenty years before. Part of his despair had been less about having an heir and more about not having a son, more about giving Igraine the one thing she craved. If they were Eunan's feelings, then he could sympathise...

...Even though, occasionally, just for a moment... He wishes Arthur didn't exist. Because if Arthur didn't live, Igraine would.

But then, later he'd regret it and he'd sneak to the window to watch Arthur train or he'll stare at the last portrait Igraine had sat for; her with her glowing face and hair, a beautiful dress to match a breath-taking smile. Her hand resting over a large bump and looking like the world could not be a better place. Only then, he'll remember, without Arthur his life would be nothing because Arthur was the one thing Igraine ever wanted.
Taking his seat at the head of table, he extended a gloved hand and took a piece of bread before waiting for his son and ward to show. Uther Pendragon did not wait for any man to eat. Taking a sip from his wine he ordered the nearest servant to pour two glasses out for Arthur and Morgana the set too grey eyes on the large oak doors.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Earlier that day a servant had informed him that he would be sharing supper with his father and Morgana, which had came as a bit of a surprise he did have to admit. Usually they only really ate dinner together like that when someone special had arrived, and they wanted to give the illusion that they were a close knit family when in reality the norm was for them to eat in their individual chambers. Not that he minded of course that he was going to be eating with his family since he was sure that was what normal ones did, but it did come as a surprise and he wasn’t sure if he was really looking forward to hearing about why Uther wanted them both to attend. It was probably to discuss a matter of great importance if it involved the both of them since he was sure that his father did not want both of them with him to discuss how their day had been and other unimportant matters. That was not his style, and he had grown worse over the years as far as he was concerned.

Arthur supposed that Merlin would be pretty pleased however that he didn’t have to spend the evening running backwards and forwards from the Kitchen, bringing up his dinner, then the second course, the third and then dessert only to have to return back each time to make sure that his chambers were not cluttered with dirtied plates and goblets with dregs of wine in them. Luckily for his servant he did not have to go far to get individual drinks since there was usually a container of some description filled with wine in his rooms for him to easily access. Though he did have to wonder what Merlin would spend his evening doing since he would be nowhere near the main dining room. Perhaps Gaius would have something for him to do, since he had observed that he also worked Merlin very hard. That in itself was amusing for him.

But he had made sure that Merlin was present in his chambers whilst he changed and got ready for the dinner, in case he needed anything. The Prince had dressed in a red shirt, with fresh trousers. The top had been fresh too for that day, since he would not be as revolting as to wear a sweaty item of clothing that he had spent hours running around and swinging a sword in. His boots were freshly polished as well, by his servant’s hand. All in all, he was impressed with his appearance, which was important for him since he had made an extra effort. When he was dining on his own, he didn’t bother dressing up and wore whatever it was he could find. Of course, he still complied to the basics of hygiene such as washing his hands (which he did after getting dressed on that day also) but there was not the same meticulous appearance as he exercised when dining with his father. After completing all of the necessary objectives to prepare for dinner, he said goodbye to Merlin (even if he was unsure why he had been so nice to do that), informed him when to return and had left for the dining room.

It was a short walk, made shorter by his use of the various shortcuts and secret little passage ways that he had been showed in his younger years. When he did finally get to the door of the great room, he straightened his shirt and walked in confidently, a skill he always benefited from even in the most intimidating of company. Of course, Arthur was not intimidated by his father but it was always rather key for him to look his best. However, he could not help but smirk slightly when he noticed that his father had already started to eat, without waiting for him or Morgana. Never the less, he was not offended since he had not expected him to. Taking the seat to his father’s right, he smiled slightly at the man. “Good evening” he stated civilly. “I see that Morgana is late.’’

[Morgana le Fey]

She had been in her bower all day, a little sickly, but altogether restless and irritated. The weather was turning unpredictable, and there was only a certain many days a young Lady could stay in her room listening to her maids babble. If it weren't for Gwen, she might have gone crazy. So when Gwen came to tell her Uther had requested a family dinner in the hall, she had jumped up with a bright grin on her face. Usually it would have been a slightly daunting prospect. Sitting between Arthur and Uther was always dangerous when wine was at hand. Giving them sour looks didn't work anymore, either. Last time she had had to feign sickness to get Uther to hush. But she hadn't been interfering quite so much recently. Morgana knew that he was tired from the Irickians visit, and needed every ounce of support she could muster. He didn't let himself show tiredness and weakness in public, but she knew as well as anyone, that he masked his true feelings very well. With a conflicted sigh, she started pulling on a dress another maid had prepared. It was cream colour, all studded with pearls along the bell sleeves. A matching, darker mantle was lying next to it and she smiled. There would no doubt be wine spilt down her front by the end of the night, anyway. There was no knowing what would happen. There was no need for a screen in here - the ladies had seen it all before, and the only person likely to burst in would be Gwen. She would only have to scramble and duck under her bed if Merlin decided to make an appearance. Strange, strange man.

After several hours of preening and pulling at her hair, the maids were content to let her free. Her dark hair was pulled into a small circlet - Uther did like his formalities - and a long 'tail hung down one shoulder. She jumped up, and gestured to her chaperon to follow. The older woman smiled slightly and followed her from the room. When they made it to the hall, the chaperon opened the door for her, and Morgana curtsied as she walked past, smirking just a little. She walked to the head of the table, gave another curt curtsy and glided towards the one free seat. All huddled together? There must be serious news on Uthers chest. He usually separated them like children. She realised that she must be late, and with a small blush, she settled herself in the chair opposite Arthur. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and avoided their gaze "I apologise for my lateness. Women's problems...." she very close to such months, but was thankfully and blissfully teetering. It would be several weeks until she would be caste abed with the 'hysteria'. Arthur and Uther usually found it wise not to ask her question when she made that excuse. She was on time, three times out of four. Besides, letting Arthur and Uther talk around the dinner table never hurt. They needed to settle and find a grounding energy between them both. They became heated and irritable in each other presence far too easily.

Morgana let her gaze rise to flit between the Prince and the King "Is there news? It's been a while since we've shared dinner like this" she made sure her voice wasn't accusatory or sardonic. It could spark an argument, and she'd only just sat down. A maid passed her and poured watered table wine into her goblet from a pitcher. Watered was better than nothing, she supposed. There was stronger stuff in her chambers - a goblet or two before bed helped warm her blood in the winter months. She sipped at it daintily. Arthur has a strange spark in his eyes. Whether it was good or bad, she didn't know. Maybe he was just as apprehensive about this as she was "And what have we on the menu this eve'?" she smiled genially, wanting to keep up small talk for little while longer. The news of Irick, hadrian's wall, the druids. They would all come in a torrent soon enough

[Uther Pendragon]

Arthur was the first to enter and Uther allowed a smile in his young son's direction. "Good evening, Arthur." When he had taken a seat, the elderly King took in his son's appearance and then looked away with a grateful smile. "Not yet." He replied, popped a grape in his mouth and chewed it slowly and thoughtfully before adding. "There will be no speak of the Tournament tonight." It was a brief warning but one aimed to remind Arthur that it had not been forgotten and surely not forgiven. As he took another grape from a vine in front of his plate he waited patiently for his adopted daughter to emerge. When she finally did she was a sight for sore eyes. As customary he stood in greeting to her, his smile a little wider for her. He sat down after, waited for her to get comfortable before ordering a servant to start carving the meat.

"It is roast pork." He answered her. The boy served Morgana first, the only lady joining them and then moved on to Uther and finally Arthur. Vegetables and an assortment of food were presented at their elbows for them to choose from and have added to their collection of edibles, mounted onto of fine porcelain plates. Only once his plate was full and he was sure his children had enough selection for now, he ordered the men away. When finally it was only them in the room, he smiled and answered Morgana's question.

"For later on, Morgana. Politics can wait." He chuckled a little and gazed at her fondly before looking down at his dinner. He cut into some meat and after swallowing it down turned to her and asked. "How have you been faring, lately? I fear with all the activity around here, I have failed to keep up with you both." He looked at his son for a minute before looking back at Morgana. Trying to demonstrate he wished to hear from her first, then from Arthur. He raised his goblet, took a swig of red wine and then sat back to hear whatever she wished to share with him.

[Arthur Pendragon]

At first, Arthur had been glad that his father was being pleasant enough smiling at him and returning his good evening. However, the illusion soon faded and a brief look of bewilderment and then, finally, a brief look of shame passed his face when the defeat at the hands of Taran was brought up. He had not spoken to him since that and had not even turned up to train the Knights which he was surprised his father had not heard about. Much too embarrassed to even think about training them, he avoided the Knights at all costs and certainly would not want to see the champion of that round. Afterwards he had locked the door to his room for a few days, refusing to speak with anyone. Arthur had never been bested before, and it was made even worse by the fact it had been in front of everyone and now he had been humiliated in front of the entire kingdom, or at least in his eyes. “Yes” he struggled out, looking at his father more annoyed than anything else.

When indeed Morgana did arrive, he was glad since he would not want to be left in the same room as his father without her for any longer. Whilst he was sure there were various things she wished to say about it, he had not given her the chance to and he doubted she would say it in front of her adopted father. On the contrary, he was expecting a worse evening now that that was brought up, and one which he would feel uncomfortable throughout. It was tempting to just say that he was feeling queasy and wished to lie down for a little bit, but such lies were starting to grow thin. Both he and Morgana seemed to use them frequently, and indeed he did, when in reality neither was sickly. As a result, he just watched Morgana sit down in her seat, his face holding a stony expression.

As the food was prepared he just stared vacantly at a corner in the room, knowing that he was over reacting since what had passed had passed, yet was finding it difficult. Why did his father have to say it like that? The man was always overly critical, harsh and difficult to be around. Arthur was unsure why he would be upset if he was dead, even if he knew he would be. It was not like he behaved very warmly towards him, and he would gain a lot more if he was dead then he would. In that sense, devoid of any human feelings, his father’s death just had a long list of advantages attached to it. The most prominent was that he would be able to rule the kingdom as he wished. However, even with the added sentiment that the man was his father he would certainly not miss the criticisms and the pressure to be consistently perfect. He did not want his father dead for the mere fact he was his father and he knew that deep down somewhere he was loved, but at that dinner he certainly didn’t feel that way. On the contrary, he felt more of an embarrassment than anything else.

Looking down at his plate once the food was there, Arthur took a piece out of the meat and ate it quickly, listening to the two others converse. It appeared that he wished to hear from Morgana first, which suited him perfectly. He did not have anything to say about what he had been doing, since he had been doing very little. His usual day consisted of strutting around the Kingdom looking important, training Knights and hunting. However, he had been far too ashamed to indulge in those activities and so had been doing... things. He was unsure in actual reality about what he had been doing, since nothing had been particularly productive. He had done some studying on useless, meaningless facts and that had been the most beneficial. Arthur was sure that Morgana had been doing something far more acceptable, and so awaited her response, in silence, which seemed to fit his seemingly quiet mood for the evening.