(a/n) First Merlin fic. This is what I think might have been going through Uther's mind in Le Morte D'Arthur. Could be considered OOC or Uther-centric, but I don't think so, because I think although he never says it out loud, Uther thinks these things. The scene where he shushes Arthur because he senses Merlin is in danger kind of wrenched my heart out, and I wanted to write what I thought the king was feeling.

I don't own Merlin. Or Arthur. Or Uther. Or anybody. If I did, there'd be a lot more moments like this.

"Shh… Sleep, Arthur."

Don't let yourself be troubled by things you cannot control. I cannot bear to see that look of pain upon your lovely face.

This wasn't you; it was me, all me. My fault all along, and I know that now. I wasn't what you deserved, what you needed, because I was being selfish.

And I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.

But I cannot tell you this, because you are good and kind, and as always, you will place the burden of blame upon your young shoulders, taking what isn't yours and what so rightfully belongs to me. Because this is all my fault, Arthur, and I'm sorry.

I cannot tell you how much I love you, like I should have done every day of your life from the day you were born, for if you hear me, you will be in more pain for worrying me.

But you have done nothing wrong, dear boy. I am your father, and worrying is what I should have done before all of this, before I sent you to your death, but it is too late now.

I cannot tell you how very like your mother you are. Your fair, golden mother; so beautiful, just like you. Did I ever tell you that was my first thought upon seeing you? Of course I didn't. I failed you every day; I fail you still, my child.

But it's true. You look so much like her, your golden hair, your lovely blue eyes. You act like her too, Arthur, did you know? Your sense of justice, your ability to do what you believe in your heart to be right, your capacity to love even the unlovable, like me.

I know I haven't been very much of a father, my boy, but you still somehow love me. I wish I had told you that I've always love you, Arthur, and I couldn't be prouder to be your father.

I cannot tell you how it fills me with sorrow to know that I have taken this lovely woman from you, before you properly got a chance to know her. Your mother, the only one of us who deserved a blessing like you, and the only one who didn't get to live to enjoy it.

But these burdens do not belong on your shoulders, my boy, this guilt you carry for your mother's death, for disappointing me, for worrying me, for not being able to save others does not belong to you. Your slight frame should not be breaking under the weight of these things, for the blame is not yours to carry. It is mine, all mine, so let me take your pain from you Arthur, let me do what a father should that I never did.

Give it all to me, my dear boy, and just sleep.

Rest your weary head, let your dreams be sweet. For when you are aware again, you will not be here. Though it breaks my heart and mind to accept, you will be with the parent you deserve. The mother who would never have neglected her duties for something as insignificant as a kingdom. Insignificant, yes, for its importance pales in comparison to you.

I tried to push you away, make you seem less important, to ease my own guilt and suffering, but you mean more to me than anything else possibly could. I know that now, and I'm sorry for denying it until now. I love you so very much, my dear child, and I only wish I had told you sooner, for I know now that I will not get the chance to tell you again.

You will be with your mother soon, Arthur, and she loves you so. I know you will be happy.

So sleep, Arthur, be well again. Don't worry about anything else. Sleep now, and let me take your pain. I love you, my child. Just sleep.

(a/n) There you go. Tell me what you thought, and point out any grammar mistakes, because it bothers me when they're in my stories and I want to correct them. Thanks for reading.