Incest Pendragon

"Guinevere… my daughter… what do you think of this letter demanding our surrender to King Uther?" King Leodegrance felt as though he had aged decades while reading the letter, each word weighing heavily on his heart.

The territory of Gwynedd has fallen, its king is dead, and his family has followed him to the grave. Not even the beauty of his queen could stir King Uther's mercy; he ruthlessly slaughtered her along with her husband. All the nobles of Gwynedd were massacred, their people plundered and left to fend for themselves. Even after conquering the kingdom, King Uther did not regard its people as his own, allowing his men to pillage the land and ransack the territory at will.

In the aftermath of his conquest, news arrived—grim and troubling—demanding his surrender. The Holy Island had fallen, and the infamous Eclipse Princess had unleashed her fury upon the land, massacring many and killing King Oberon for hiding Cath Palug from her. After her brutal act, she disappeared from Britannia, leaving chaos in her wake. No one knew where she had gone after ending the life of the Fairy King.

This left King Leodegrance wondering, was this still the King Uther who once claimed to love Britannia? Did the betrayal of his former allies drive him to hate the land he once cherished? If he truly loved Britannia, why would he kill the King of Gwynedd? And why would he ignore the plight of King Oberon, knowing full well that the Fairy King's survival was critical to protecting the island? Instead of sending reinforcements to aid him, King Uther allowed Oberon to die at the hands of the Eclipse Princess.

Taking advantage of Oberon's demise, King Uther attacked the fae of the Holy Island, slaughtered them, and seized control of the land. After accomplishing that ruthless conquest, he turned his gaze towards Wales.

Despite his insatiable hunger for power, the masses still hailed him as a savior. Only a handful of the truly perceptive could see his conquests for what they really were—selfish power grabs under the guise of noble intent. However, those voices of dissent could only murmur in hidden corners, for the people's favor was overwhelmingly with the king, and any attempt to tarnish his reputation would lead only to futility. Only those outside of Camelot dared to openly express their anger and denounce the hypocrisy of King Uther.

In King Leodegrance's court, many of his less-informed council members, unaware of King Uther's true strength, expressed their dissatisfaction and urged him to march his army against Uther's forces. But Leodegrance knew better—such actions would only result in unnecessary bloodshed and another massacre.

The King Uther of today is no longer the benevolent ruler of the past. He is ruthless, cruel, and tyrannical, ruling with an iron fist. Any form of resistance is met with swift and brutal annihilation. In this regard, he is no different from the Saxons.

King Leodegrance clenched his fist in powerless frustration.

"I don't know, Father, but surrender is not an option. Aligning ourselves with the Saxons to resist Uther's tyranny is also not the best choice. Many of our people hate the Saxons even more than they despise Uther. As much as they've heard stories of King Uther's cruelty and massacres, it's only hearsay for them—they haven't truly experienced it. The Saxons, on the other hand, have made us feel firsthand what cruelty and massacre really mean." Princess Guinevere sighed wearily, her voice tinged with the weight of her thoughts.

"So, we are left with no choice but to fight until the bitter end?" King Leodegrance asked, his heart heavy.

He had heard enough about King Uther's brutal treatment of those who dared defy him, and the thought of resisting filled him with dread. He feared for his family, his home, and especially for his beloved daughter.

What would become of them if he chose to resist Uther's iron will?

Compared to other warlords who were obsessed with power, Leodegrance's love for his family surpassed everything.

The mere thought of his daughter suffering any harm because of his decisions was unbearable to him.

Perhaps sensing the tremor in her father's voice, Guinevere swallowed the words of persuasion she had wanted to offer and sighed, her breath bitter with unspoken resolve.

"You could send me to Camelot as a hostage, Father," she said softly, her eyes steady but filled with sorrow. "They would be more at ease with us and trust you more."

"Absolutely not!" King Leodegrance roared, slamming the goblet in his hand to the ground in fury. The sound echoed through the chamber, underscoring his rage.

"Don't you ever mention the idea of sending yourself to that place again. I may send a letter of surrender, but I will never—never—allow you to be sent as a hostage. That is final."

Guinevere nodded quietly, her face calm and composed.

Yet, whether she would truly obey her father's words or follow her own course of action remained uncertain.

Only time would tell as she excused herself and quietly left the room.

Leodegrance watched her go, a deep sadness settling over him.

Perhaps, somewhere in his heart, he already knew what choice his daughter would make.

He muttered bitterly under his breath, his guilt and sorrow intertwined.

"Forgive me, daughter. It is your father's incompetence that has led you to this path."