Pairings: Uther/Merlin, (but with implied Uther/Arthur and Uther/Morgana)
Warnings: 2nd person point of view (because I know that can irritate people), kind of dubious consent
Disclaimer: Don’t own Merlin. *is not bitter*
Summary: The best thing about having authority is abusing it.
Word Count: 200ish
A/N: I think that I perhaps should’ve pushed more in this fic, made it darker or something, but I’m off in my own little bubble of writing joy at the moment and wanted to share it.
You cannot have either of them.
No. That is not necessarily true.
You could easily have them (either of them, both of them), for to refuse you would be treason.
You could have your son, and through him an echo of his mother. Golden hair, clear blue eyes, the intermingled strength and innocence. You could take it all and leave nothing but confused, bruised love in your wake.
You could have your ward, the only woman- since Ygraine- to catch your eye, after growing, blossoming beneath your gaze. You could transform her disdain to hatred and disgust, revel in the inevitable lust she would fight but fail to hide.
But you do not. Your glory has not yet waned so much that you turn to your children.
Instead you use the boy with Morgana’s colouring, the boy who is so close to Arthur you can smell your son on his skin. He is a perfect substitute, so perfect sometimes it is hard to recall that you summon him for any other reason than him. Him alone.
He sits upon your bed and shudders, bites his lip, as your nail drags a line down his pale back.
It would be treason to refuse you.