Title: That Night and the Morning After
Warnings: If you don't want to revive images of troll loving, don't read this.
Spoilers: For Beauty and the Beast Parts I and II
Disclaimer: Merlin is not mine, I'm just playing.
Summary: The troll changes her mind about Uther's affection.
Word Count: ~460
A/N: Why did the troll not just do her evil breath thing on Uther when he made his advances after her reveal? This was sort of me trying to answer that. Really, though, I just like taking canon crack and messing it about with overwrought emotion. Features sort of!insecure!troll and mild attempts at humour.
She had not, in all honesty, expected the enchantment to hold once Catrina's face and body gave way to her own. But there Uther stood, enraptured, smiling, defending her against the truths he perceived as slurs.
Troll? She was no troll, not to him.
His gloved hand was soft against her warts as he stroked her face, his compliments were earnest, and though he was repulsively clean she found herself liking his smell, human and vital. The scent of gold, too, hung off him, as though he could not shake his kingship, power, even when he did not wear the crown. And tonight he was wearing it, and the tang of gold and sweat mixed, and suddenly she was allowing him to push her down on the bed, to kiss her...
Jonas would not understand, if she told him. No one would.
The sun shone through the window with such alarming brightness that she woke, grumbling and cursing the light. With a jolt, she remembered what had occurred the night before and her stomach flipped unpleasantly.
The feeling was compounded by the sight of Uther stretched out on his front beside her, clothes in disarray, a hint of a smile on his sleeping face.
She grunted and buried her face in her hands.
Think of dung, think of dung, think of dung-
“What is wrong, my love?”
Uther's groggy expression was caught somewhere between concern and bliss. He raised himself and sat up, moved to her and drew her to his chest. Damn her, but she didn't shove him off.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked in a softer, more worried voice, and she almost laughed.
“No, no,” she reassured him. “Everything's fine.” Camelot was practically hers, after all.
“I am glad,” he said. He rested his chin upon the top of her head for a moment before she pulled away from him, lurching off the bed and to her feet. A glance back showed Uther gazing after her with soft eyes.
It was not like Jonas' stare, in which she sometimes saw a mixture of lust and greed, subservience and disgust. No, Uther's gaze was-
That of an enchanted man. It was not love, but she had never wanted love.
She reached back and chanced a pat to his cheek, and though it was awkward and hesitant Uther leaned into her hand, smiling all the while.
She smiled a little too and her stomach flipped again, though in a different way. Perhaps she wouldn't kill Uther, not yet anyway. Jonas would not understand that either, but he would not question her plans.
She had never wanted love.
This false devotion was enough.
“Come, dearest,” she said. “We've a lot to do.”