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Summary
"He's just a servant."
"He is mine!"
"No." Uther took in Arthur’s unrepentant claim and stormy gaze, and a chill swept through him. "No, Arthur, tell me you didn't."
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.