InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Who's procrastinating now?"

HRH Uther Pendragon (camelot_king) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2010-09-13 18:06:00

Entry tags:

!closed, arthur pendragon, uther pendragon

Who: Female!Arthur and Uther
What: A Father and ~~Son~~Daughter conversation after work.
When: Early evening.
Where: The Park
Rating: TBD

Uther had just finished up for the evening. He was the last one to leave the stables, as had become his habit, and he made one final round of the stalls, making sure they were all settled and had enough water to last until morning. Then he trudged over the straw covered floor, turning to drag the wooden door closed behind him and secure it. Job finished, the old King turned, absently rubbing his hands together. The harvest season was definately closing in on them. If he was back home he would be listening to farmers try and renegotiate their trade agreements and making sure the city and castle were stocked for winter. There was much less to be done here.

Uther frowned, adjusting the collar on his loose shirt and pulling his coat a little closer to his body. He felt the cold more these days. In his pocket, the PDA bumped his leg. He should go and check on Arthur. His son had seemed upset over the network, and although Uther had been trying to steer clear until he got used to Arthur's new appearance, his worry had caught up with him. He had never been one for displays of emotion, but he was trying. He really was.

Taking a deep breath, Uther shoved his cold hands in his pockets and strode off away from the stables, head down, watching his own long shadow. His shoulders were bowed, his footsteps shuffled a little. He hated how age had changed him. Reaching the gates of the park, the aging monarch looked up, watching the traffic pass. Then, suddenly, a figure appeared on the far side of the road. Uther's heart hit the back of his throat, his stomach seemed to lurch and then curl back on itself unpleasantly. Although he couldn't see it, the little colour he had in his cheeks left him. He could have seen a ghost.

Yrgaine.

Only it wasn't. It was Arthur. Arthur in his new body. Uther realized he was staring, catching himself and cursing his own foolishness before lifting a hand in awkward greeting to his son.

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a_royal_prat
2010-09-13 05:12 pm UTC (link)

He'd been invited. Arthur tugged on a jacket he'd found buried inside Guinevere's closet and slid it on, doing up the buttons. The days weren't nearly as chilled as the nights were becoming but he wasn't going to take any more risks. He'd felt off. Different. For the past few hours and then some since he'd woken up distinctly female. He pulled his hair out from under the lapels of the jacket and left with a hastily scrawled note to Guinevere for when she got home.

The lamps were slowly flickering to life by the time he reached the park, dotting the path orange and yellow where he walked. He spotted his father easily, though he hesitated a moment until beckoned forward, caught. He knew his father had obtained employment but seeing him returning from it was odd to say the least.

But then, what wasn't odd about this?

"Hello."

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camelot_king
2010-09-13 10:48 pm UTC (link)

Gods, it was too strange. This was why he'd avoided Arthur when he'd first heard what had happened. It was like looking at a shadow of his late wife. Arthur had always carried a hint of her with him, with his fair colouring and open, honest eyes. His good heart. But it was only magnified now, to the point where looking straight at him sent an arrow of pain deep into the old man's chest. He missed Ygraine. Missed her so much he could barely see how he had coped all these years without her.

"Arthur," he croaked, as the memory approached him. Uther's eyes were wide, haunted, as he took in his sons appearance. A heavy silence fell, before the older man finally forced himself back to the present. Reality hit hard, and was just as painful as the rest of the situation. "Are you alright?"

He wanted to put a hand on his son's shoulder, or something, just to offer some comfort. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. So instead he shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn work trousers, which were streaked with mud from the stables.

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a_royal_prat
2010-09-14 12:15 am UTC (link)

Despite Morgana and Merlin's repeated claims otherwise, Arthur wasn't blind, nor a fool. People played him, yes and often got the better of him, but in the end it was never his fault. He shouldered that knowledge when he saw his father's face soften then crumple into hard lines and brusque words.

Arthur didn't say anything at first, holding himself around the middle and glancing around the barren park.

"I'm fine," he bit out, hating how soft and high his voice was. Hating how thin his skin was and how weak he felt. He hated the way he couldn't always walk straight if he forgot he wasn't a man. He hated the way his hair fell down his back and chest to tickle his arms.

He hated that his legs were sore and he hadn't even walked close to any enormous distance.

He hated that his father couldn't bring himself to reach out and touch him in greeting.

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camelot_king
2010-09-16 10:54 pm UTC (link)

Uther nodded awkwardly, still finding it hard not to stare at Arthurs hauntingly familiar face. There was a heartbeat when no' one spoke, although Uther had a thousand things he wanted to say. Only none would make their way over his tongue, they all seemed to stick at the back of his throat.

Uther had seen fathers and sons together when he worked or walked the streets of this strange town, seen how they talked and laughed. But he wasn't like that. He had raised Arthur as his own Father had done him, without much contact, as a commanding, judging figure. It was how he believed it should be done. And he was too old now to change. Or so he believed. He would never be one of the Fathers who hugged and laughed on a regular basis, but did that mean he loved his son any less?

Uther cleared his throat, feeling his aging chest jolt with the motion. It was cold here, especially during the nights, and it seemed to be settling into his bones. "What happened this afternoon?" he asked. Always get straight to the point.

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