Well, this is the first Merlin piece that I've posted... Probably one of the few fanfictions I've ever written!!
I'm still only getting used to this site, so stuff may be absolutely terrible... It will get better! I hope... =P
Anyway, reviews and all would be nice, but I'm not even asking for them. =]
x
He had always been blamed for it.
The words were never spoken out loud, although the morbid subject mistakenly arose within everyday conversation more often than either of the Pendragon males would like. Sometimes it was a mere implication that was never followed through, a vague subtext, hidden deep within an otherwise ordinary comment. However, there were times when even that was enough to convert the irregular coldness in Uther's eyes, into a noticeably thickening ice, spreading swiftly across the winter's lake. His words became nothing more than shallow idioms, practically meaningless, yet his blank eyes spoke volumes.
Arthur's first breath had been her last.
The boy would always be seen as a lasting memory of mistakes and horrors, from times that the young prince could not even remember. The entirety of his life would be overshadowed and corrupted by Uther's actions, however much he tried to control his own mind. Whenever the king dwelled upon thoughts of the past that continued to haunt him, striking his supposedly innocent consciousness at the most inappropriate of moments, he could never forget that he was the one who had ultimately made the choice.
The wife, or the son.
Between the delicate balance of life and death, Uther Pendragon had been trapped, imprisoned within his own mind, as he considered what consequences would come of his actions. None. He had decided firmly, attempting to dispel the invading and dangerously unforgettable thought from his mind, until the moment that the boy was born into this world.
An heir… And son.
A life for a life, the sorceress had said, pretending to herself that Uther was listening to a single word that she was saying. It's important, she had insisted, although the distracted king was merely interested in his family. Nothing else. He had barely fixed his thoughts enough over the final few moments to take in anything that she said, as the man obliviously signed away the life and soul of the one he loved.
Congratulations. Commiserations.
The moment had come, and Uther's sheer joy could not be expressed any more broadly across his weathered face, as he heard the first shrieks of a child, welcoming itself into the world, as the king stood outside of the room. Although he had known there was something wrong, from the moment that he was permitted within the chamber.
Until death do us part.
Her whimpers of agony had been the last thing that the Pendragon king had heard. He had stared at her, lying on that bed, and the scarlet had been the only thing strong enough to cloud his vision, and his judgement. He had flung the servants from the room, even Gaius himself, his face a canvas of repentance and grief, yet with a stronger, wilder and overwhelming abhorrence for the entire world. As soon as he was allowed his own loneliness, the ashen king had stood by her bed, unable to take the smallest glance at the delicate, pallid body that lay, almost inconspicuously, upon the lifeless white sheets.
While my heart is beating, although yours is silenced, you are home.
Within seconds, an invisible hand had pushed him to his knees before the bedstead, his head bowed. It took him a moment to realise that he was praying. The broken king had begged, pleaded; with all the pieces of his shattered heart, to bring her back, though he knew his words were insignificant. He seemed almost pathetic, upon his knees, as the young baby, barely even minutes old, lay within the cold arms of the beautiful mother that he would never know.
Take my tears – I cry forever.
He wept. The once-great king had not been ashamed for the silver tears to come streaking down his face, carving further furrows of angst and internal torture across his already lined face. He had embraced them, feeling them being forced over the edge, from obscurity, into visibility, across his damaged façade…
And he was alone.
They barely spoke of her, the husband and the son. However, in the moments of Uther's darkest despair, when he no longer knew anything that had once seemed so certain, his desperate attempts to banish the thoughts of the beautiful woman that he had loved backfired upon him, leaving his tired mind filled with a single clear image of her.
There was nothing that could be done.
Maybe we'll meet again, when lights go down.