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Uther Pendragon was most certainly not pleased when the scrawny serving boy was thrown down to the ground by his feet. The boy’s wrists were bound with cold iron. It seemed magic had infected Camelot to the core once again, though Uther would never have suspected it would ever get so close as his own son's manservant.
The boy looked up at him with venom in his eyes. Rage filled Uther. How dare a sorcerer look at him as if he were inferior? Two guards grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up to his knees. Uther took in the look of disgust on the boy's face once again, and struck him across the cheek. One of his rings left a cut on the servant's cheek. Blood slowly oozed to the surface from it. “You dare look at your King with disrespect?”
The boy's face twisted into a frown. “If you gave me any reason to respect you, I would. Unfortunately for you, I do not think the mass murder of innocents belongs in that category.”
“Silence, sorcerer!” Uther spat. “Do not speak as if you have any right to judge me.”
The servant looked up at him defiantly. “Oh, I have every right to judge you. It is you who has condemned thousands to flames to ease your guilt, you who slaughtered innocents, you who drowned children in the wells. I have done more for the good of this kingdom in my short time here than you ever have,” he said.
Uther all but snarled. How there this– this stain say such a thing! “I will not be shamed like this by your kind.” He looked to the guards. “Take him to the dungeons and start building the pyre. He will burn the very moment it’s finished.”
Just as the guards began to pull the boy up, Arthur burst into the throne room. “Father, what is the meaning of this?” He rushed to the boy's side, but he was held back by the guards. He stepped back and looked at Uther with wide, questioning eyes.
Uther looked at his son with disdain. The boy was just a servant, why should the prince care about his fate? “The sorcerer will get what he deserves, Arthur. That is all that will be happening.”
“Sorcerer?” Arthur asked with bafflement. “Merlin may be a clumsy idiot, but he is not a sorcerer.”
Uther's lip twisted in displeasure. “Two of Camelot's most respected knights saw him creating shapes in the fire with his mind. Are you questioning their word?”
Arthur looked at the sorcerer, whose eyes were cast to the ground. He looked back at Uther then. “No,” was all he said.
Uther nodded approvingly. “Good. Now get this criminal out of my sight.”
The guards complied, and led the sorcerer out from the room. Uther watched the way Arthur looked after him. “This has got to be a misunderstanding,” Arthur said when the doors closed. “Merlin has been by my side for years. He is one of the most loyal men I know.”
Uther shook his head. It seemed like Arthur had forgotten that servants were there to serve him, not be loyal to him. “Clearly he has deceived you. Now stop this nonsense and move on with your business. You are dismissed.”
Arthur didn’t back down. “But–“
“I said you are dismissed!” Uther yelled as he stepped forward with the heat of his anger.
Arthur flinched back. He bowed his head. “Yes, Sire,” he said after a moment of silence. Without looking back up at Uther, he left the throne room.
Uther sighed and shook his head slowly. Arthur had always cared too much for his own good. But Uther was certain he would see sense soon enough.
It only became clear to him how deeply Arthur was under the sorcerer’s influence when guards brought him into the King’s chambers mere candlemarks later.
“He was found helping the sorcerer escape, your Highness,” one of the guards reported.
Uther looked at his son with distaste. “Is this true?”
Arthur looked at him defiantly. “I only did what was right. Merlin doesn’t have a single evil bone in his body.”
Uther scoffed. “You are clearly enchanted if you believe that.”
“I'm not enchanted!” Arthur protested. “Father, be reasonable. If Merlin had any ill intent, he would have done something by now!”
Uther looked at the desperation on Arthur’s face. It was pathetic. “And clearly he has. It is fortunate his treachery was revealed before my death. He would have had full control over your choices once you became king.”
“No, that’s…” Arthur protested, but Uther couldn’t be bothered to listen. Once the sorcerer was dead, the enchantment broken, his son would see sense.
Uther nodded at the guards. “Take him to his rooms. Do not let him leave until the sorcerer has burned.”
“No!” Arthur shouted as the guards dragged him away. “You can’t do this! He hasn’t done anything!”
Uther barely paid attention to what he was saying after that. There was no point. By the end of the day, Arthur would realize what the truth was.
When the pyre was finished, the crowds gathered around it. Uther stepped out onto the balcony alone. He watched with great appreciation as the people gushed with anticipation. He saw as the sorcerer was led out. His gaze was fiery even from afar. Uther knew exactly how helpless the boy really was, though.
He walked to the edge to address the crowd. “People of Camelot! We are gathered here to witness another triumph over the evils of magic. Today it has once again been proven that sorcery will worm its way into and spread its treachery in places you would never expect. For it is my own son's manservant who stands guilty in front of you.”
The sounds of shock and unrest could be heard all throughout the courtyard. The boy was dragged to the pyre and tied to the stake. His eyes never left Uther. “You are right about one thing, at least,” the boy said loudly, and the murmurs of the crowd ceased. “Magic is everywhere. You will never be rid of it, it's as natural as the air you breathe.”
Uther did not acknowledge the sorcerer’s words. “It is time for justice to be delivered,” he said, and raised his arm.
“I know why you’re doing all this. You enjoy the theatrics of it. You like seeing us afraid.” The sorcerer laughed. “Well I’m not going to give you that satisfaction. I know I have done no evil, and I believe in the good the future will bring. Even if I won’t be there to see it.”
Uther's hand came down, and with it, so did the torch. The pyre was lit, and the sorcerer burned. He went silently in his own twisted sense of dignity, and his eyes never left Uther until the moment he lost consciousness.
Uther left the grounds with a deep sense of satisfaction, only marginally soured by the sorcerer’s actions.
He was in his chambers when a knock sounded on his door. “Enter,” he called out, and Arthur stepped inside. His expression was blank and unreadable. Uther smiled. “I see the enchantment has been broken. I'm glad to know you have seen sense.”
“I know who my loyalties lie with now,” Arthur said calmly.
Uther looked at his son with pride. “You have no idea how reassured I am to hear that. That sorcerer had poisoned your mind long enough.”
Arthur stepped closer, his mouth a thin line. “Right,” he said, and unsheathed his sword.
Uther looked at him with thinly veiled confusion. “Arthur? What are you doing?”
Arthur took another step forward. Uther took one backward in return. His back hit the cold, rough stone wall. “You didn’t even have a confession,” Arthur said.
Uther sighed. Not this again. Clearly the sorcerer’s magic had been far too strong to fade so quick. “What he had said was as good as a confession. You are being unreasonable.”
The blade flew to his neck, and Uther flinched back. The tip just barely grazed the vulnerable flesh of his throat. “I'm being unreasonable?” The sword trembled with emotion. Arthur swallowed. “You killed him,” he choked out. “You didn’t even give him a chance.”
Uther took in the state of his son. He saw now that Arthur’s eyes were red-rimmed and sparkling with unshed tears. Uther scoffed internally. Crying over a servant of all things. He'd expected better. “Arthur–“ he started, but cut himself off when he felt cold metal against his skin.
“Don’t,” Arthur warned. “Don’t you dare say anything after what you did.” Uther almost laughed. What had he done except rid the world of another bottom-feeder sorcerer? A muscle twitched in Arthur’s jaw. “You took him from me. You took the man I loved from me.” A single tear rolled down Arthur’s blank face, slowly and elegantly. “I wanted to take something from you that would hurt you equally. But it is clear to me now – you do not love anyone except yourself,” he said, and moved so fast that Uther had no time to react, to think, to look at his son's face one more time.
Arthur sank his blade into Uther Pendragon’s cold, unfeeling heart, and smiled.