Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. Nor do I own my house, my car, my husband, my kids . . . oh, wait. I don't have any of those.
Despite what some thought, it was not easy being king. There were times that were perplexing and wearying, days that were just exhausting, ending with him feeling heavy and drained.
On days like that, King Uther Pendragon went back to his bedchamber, settled down in a chair and did the one thing that soothed him and left him feeling calm and relaxed.
He knit.
The clacking of the needles filled the silence that would otherwise have been maddening.
He made sweaters, scarves, gloves, whole blankets created with a skill that could only come from years of performance.
When he was done with a project, he gave the knitted article to his elderly servant, Gage. Gage had been employed by the Pendragons for some sixty years. He was loyal, and knew not to breathe a word of where, exactly, the expertly crafted items came from. So he delivered them anonymously. It would not do, after all, for the King to be seen as soft.
No, it wouldn't do at all, Uther thought, as he worked on a new sweater for the baker's small daughter, just turned five.
Kindness could be seen as a weakness. Therefore, he would not be kind.
He held up the small item of clothing for a moment, then decided that it needed to be just a little longer, with a little flower just at the edge there.
Now, where was he? Oh, yes. Softness. It would not be tolerated in a king, and especially not this king.
Uther ignored the little voice in the back of his mind that asked who he was trying to fool.