I don't own any of this stuff, I wish I did, but if I did, it would be Merthur galore. *-*

*PoV Uther*

I was on my daily rounds of the castle when I remembered that I had to collect Morgana's throat medicine, for she was afflicted with a terrible cold. As I neared Gaius's chamber, I heard faint sobbing. It got louder as I got closer.

"Hush, Arthur," I heard Gaius say.

"But it hurts!" Arthur's little voice rang out. He was only eight. "And it's bleeding! Morgana's right… I'll never be a good fighterer like daddy."

"Fighter, Arthur. Of course you will. No one is perfect. Even your father had his fair share of practice wounds when he was younger. Learn from your mistakes. What doesn't kill you…?"

"Makes me stronger."

I peeked through a crack in the door, and saw Arthur wrapping his small arms around Gaius's neck. "Thank you."

He had a cut on his leg that had been freshly bandaged.

"Why does daddy think that magic is bad?" Arthur asked.

"…During the great purge, there were some sorcerers that used their magic for evil, and fought against Uther… An evil witch murdered your mother, and Uther wants the magic community to pay for what they did. He thinks that they are all bad."

"Are they all bad, Gaius?"

"…Your father thinks so. I know of some warlocks who wouldn't ever do anything to hurt anyone, but Uther turns a blind eye. If they used magic to heal a scratch on a friends shin, Uther would have them and their friend executed. If a warlock used his magic to make shapes in smoke, Uther would have them killed. I honestly don't think that all warlocks are bad. But try telling that to Uther."

"When I'm king, I'll make sure that if someone uses magic for good they won't be killed, they'll be rewarded. And I'll have the bad ones killed. For the good of Camelot."

I knocked on the door, stopping their conversation in its tracks. "I have come for Morgana's throat syrup. Arthur, would you like to dine with me tonight?"

"Oh, yes father! Thank you Gaius!"

Arthur hobbled out the door as Gaius handed me the throat syrup. "Please do not fool Arthur into thinking that all sorcerers are bad. You know they are."

"Do you think that I am evil, sire?"

"I-… I did not mean you."

"And you thought that Nimway wasn't evil at first. I am only speaking my opinion. I shall not in the future; I shall only tell Arthur lies."

I snatched the syrup from him and stormed out of the chamber.

Later, at dinner, Arthur was digging into his mashed potatoes, his little arms at awkward angles as he wasn't yet tall enough the sit at the table properly. The table top was at his shoulders, so he usually didn't eat with me.

"How was your day, Father?" Arthur asked politely.

"It was good. I didn't see you practicing today."

"I cut myself…" Tears bubbled in Arthur's wide blue eyes. He set down his knife and fork and rubbed impatiently at his eyes. "I'm sorry dad. I know I'll never be as good as you want me to be."

"No, Arthur, you already are as good as I want you to be. And you'll get better."

Arthur looked at me, his eyes red from crying, making the blue of them pop. He nodded at me and smiled, then continued to eat in silence. He tried to reach the water jug, but his fingers didn't reach it. I snapped my fingers for the servant to pour him more.

"Dadd- father…" Arthur said cautiously.

"Yes?" I asked.

"Why is magic so bad?"

I looked up from my chicken to see him staring at me, his eyes wide. "Well… Those who have magic seek to destroy us. They only want to hurt us. They have no moral good."

"But, what if… what if one of them did, and he practiced magic to heal someone or for someone's entertainment, then what? Would you have him killed?"

"He practices magic. I would have him executed."

"But, father, what if-"

"Arthur, enough."

"But what-"

"ENOUGH!" I stood up. "Magic is bad, and no one practicing magic can ever be good. So enough of this! Leave my presence!"

Arthur ran from the room, shaking from head to foot.

That night, I was awoken by Arthur's screams. I grabbed my sword and ran to his room. I threw open the doors and myself and some guards streamed into his room, looking for an attacker. But it was only Arthur, thrashing in his bed, his sheets crumpled up around him, tangled around his legs.

One of the guards shook his, waking him from his nightmare. Arthur started sobbing and clutched at the guard, who tentatively wrapped his arms around the sobbing boy. I came closer, and was going to relieve the guard, but Arthur took one look at me and screamed shrilly. He scrambled out of bed and took up his sword, brandishing it at me.

"Arthur!" I said, blocking his strike. "Arthur, you're not dreaming!"

"That's what they say before they turn into evil wizards and kill little boys and girls and eat them!" he yelled in a scramble of words. "Get away, foul tempter!"

Morgana appeared in the door and yelled, "Arthur, you blubbering idiot, that's your father!"

Arthur lowered his sword, a wired look in his eyes. His breathing was heavy, his hair sticking up in patches, plastered to his forehead with sweat. He started sobbing again, and we eventually got his story out. He had been dreaming that I was a sorcerer, and that I had tried to kill him. He said he was sorry, but after that night, I noticed that he was more distant.

I probably should have taken more notice of the blond haired girl in the room with us, who snuck out as soon as Arthur put down his sword.

Years later, When Arthur was twenty two, I walked in on him and his man servant hugging, and the man servant was sobbing for some reason, but they didn't see me. I backed out of the room and watched through the crack in the wooden door. Arthur lifted his man servants' chin and kissed him, and I saw sparks fly from Merlin's fingers. Sorcerer, I thought. Though, he has been a good servant… never went behind our backs… And Arthur certainly did like him… Maybe… just maybe, I would let this one slip…