Merthur One-shots

The Hoard Of A Pendragon

Summary: Dragon blood ran through the Pendragon line. Not enough to taint them with the evil of magic, but to carry through and amplify draconic traits in their human nature that made them better, sharper. It also drove them to hoard one thing above all else. Uther had chosen well to hoard power, but Arthur -

Arthur couldn't have chosen people as his hoard. He'd taught his son better than that.

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Uther sighed in disappointment as Arthur stood before him, dirty and tired and tense. When Arthur refused to flinch at the rebuke, only clenching his jaw and raising his chin in defiance, Uther admitted to some pride. His son was becoming a king who would stand firm behind his choices. But also, his son was still a prince subject to his rule and shouldn’t shirk his duties to go chasing after his missing manservant in the woods, so anger and disapproval are the only responses Uther will give.

That clumsy, idiotic boy was getting to be more trouble than he was worth, no matter how he saved Arthur’s life. Uther was sick of having this conversation.

“Arthur, you had responsibilities. You should’ve delegated this worthless task to one of your knights if you were so concerned for the boy.”

“I had to go,” Arthur insisted.

“He’s just a servant,” Uther said, once again trying to impart this lesson onto his son. Sometimes Ygraine’s heart did Arthur a disservice. 

“He is mine!”

“No.” He took in Arthur’s unrepentant claim and stormy gaze, and a chill swept through him. “No, Arthur, tell me you didn’t.”

“I did search for him,” Arthur said, his snarling defenses slipping to confusion. “That’s what this is about.”

“Leave us,” Uther snapped at the guards at the end of the throne room.

When the doors closed shut leaving only father and son, Uther rose from his seat.

“I taught you better than this.” He’d given lectures and warnings and threats ever since Arthur was old enough to show discretion. That being a Pendragon made Arthur special even beyond royalty, and Pendragons had to take care about what they prioritized in their desires. 

They were never to need to speak of this after crowning Arthur at his majority. 

“Father -”

“Tell me he is not part of your hoard. My son could never be such an idiot as to claim people!”

There was dragon blood in the Pendragon line, though Uther had never questioned how or when it got there. It did not taint them with the evil of magic like those damn Dragonlords, but accuentated draconic traits within their human nature. It made them sharper, more focused. Made them territorial and difficult to kill, gave them a hunter’s drive and tempers that blazed hot. And, it gave them the desire to hoard one thing above all else. 

Uther had chosen power, refusing to limit himself to simple wealth as his father had done. Coin came with power easily enough, and as king he had plenty of both. He’d proved the strength of his hoard when he’d wiped magic from his kingdom.