Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the creators of Merlin BBC drama. The characters aren't mine, I just play with them!
Warning: Contains suicide theme. Read at your own peril!
I (the Eleanor part of the trio here at fortheloveofcamelot) decided to write a fanfic about the dark times Uther Pendragon faced when he learned that his wife Ygraine couldn't have children. What is he to do? Read on and find out!
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Uther watched his queen silently burst into tears. They were in their chambers; her in a chair by the fire, him standing beside her. Gaius had just solemnly declared that his beloved Ygraine was unable to conceive children. Uther placed a hand upon her shoulder in a charade of comfort, but quickly withdrawing it, he left.
He strode through the halls quickly, took a horse and left Camelot. He needed to think.
In a forest clearing half an hour's hard ride away, Uther finally stopped. He was panting with the effort of withholding his tears but now, away from prying eyes, he let them fall, hot and angry, among the dead leaves. He cried as he had never cried before (as his father believed it a sign of weakness), tears of despair from a man who had just lost everything.
In long, gulping sobs, he finally stopped to miserably contemplate his situation. He had to have fallen in love with the one barren noblewoman for miles around. Now there could be no heir to Camelot, no son to receive the throne, no hope. He dragged his sleeve across his eyes to dry them and gazed back at Camelot. Its fiery glow was visible from miles around, either a comfortable, safe beacon, or a growling monster that would spit out your soul.
Uther shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was a king; he should be back in Camelot solving the problem, not sulking. There had to be something he could do. With no hesitation, he leapt on his patiently waiting horse and rode back to Camelot.
For the past few months, Uther had ensured Gaius fed Ygraine potions to increase fertility, made sure she rested, and kept up his own general appearance as king. But still no luck, Ygraine was still no closer to conceiving a child.
The Pendragon bloodline was going to end, Uther reflected miserably as he drained another goblet of its alcoholic contents. His own father had never had this problem. But here was foolish Uther; he couldn't even have a baby, how was he supposed to rule? He had wondered about hiring a surrogate mother, but Ygraine refused. It was either her baby, or nothing.
Uther took a few days leave, told everyone he was going to go sailing on the lake. They didn't question it; the King often took off for some quiet reflection. He didn't tell them his real motive; that he had decided to kill himself. He took only one squire boy, and packed a few belongings, and left. He kissed Ygraine goodbye, told her he loved her, and swept out.
On the second day of steady travelling, Uther and his companion reached the lake. Uther's boat was recovered from the mooring. Uther gave the boy leave and boarded, aiming for the middle of the lake.
He reached it when evening fell and the stars were beginning to shine. Uther began to work industriously; he cut several holes in the bottom of the boat with his sword and then tied himself to the mast and waited for the end. He wanted it to be slow, that he should have time to wallow.
The little boat steadily took on water, and it was eventually around Uther's knees. Uther noticed all that was happening, but stared stonily ahead at the place where he knew the sun would rise. If he was going to live that long.
The sky was beginning to lighten when the boat was on the verge of collapse, and the final descent. As it rocked dangerously low in the water, Uther contemplated how he would never see sons or daughters growing up in the castle, teach them to ride or shoot arrows, and simply just love them. For a glimmer of a moment, he envied the peasants, who could live with their dozens of children, free of expectations. But then it was gone. All he had in the world was Ygraine. He was quite alone.
A single tear trickled down his cheek at this thought, and the ghost of a word danced upon his lips as the struggling boat finally went under.
"Family…"
Uther opened his eyes and was instantly blinded by the glare. He was cold, and wet, and hungry. If this was heaven, it had definitely gone down in his estimation.
"Sire!"
Oh no, another adoring fan.
Uther looked around to see the owner of this voice. It was the squire whom he had sent away. He was also dripping wet, and panting heavily.
"Are you dead as well?" Uther asked, warily. He felt a bit guilty, having sent the young man to his doom.
"No, sire, I – I thought something was wrong so I stayed a little later, and, and I saw y-you across the l-lake. I came to save you."
Uther blushed red at this. So he was alive. Thwarted. He coldly appraised the boy.
"Thank you." He said stiffly.
They both sat in awkward silence, shivering with damp, until the rising sun dried their clothes and warmed them.
"What is your name, boy?" Uther asked after they were dried and on their way back to Camelot.
"Leon, my Lord."
"Well, Leon, I want to ensure that you do not speak of what happened here. My boat capsized and you saved me. That's all that happened."
"Yes, sir."
"When we get home tonight, Leon, I will recommend you for knight training. With your courage, I shan't be surprised if you go far as a knight."
"Thank you sir."
They rode on in a thoughtful but almost companionable silence until they reached Camelot.
Uther requested an audience with Gaius the following morning. He wanted to discuss any last possible options of childbearing. Gaius kept looking at him warily, having some sort of internal moral struggle, before finally telling Uther of an island called the Isle of the Blessed. There, he told him, lived a sorceress, Nimueh, who could help Ygraine conceive.
Uther smiled and bade him leave for the Isle of the Blessed immediately. There was no time to lose.
Uther then left and went to his chambers. Ygraine was sitting by the fire, reading a book.
"Good news," said Uther, "There is hope yet! We can finally have our son!"
And the look of complete love and devotion that Ygraine gave him made him instantly forget their previous desolation and desperation, and look forward to the happy times with their son. Together. A family.
"I think," said Ygraine looking into the flames ponderously, "I will call him Arthur."