A/N: Well, I was re-watching all the Merlins and decided to try and write something myself. This takes place after Season 3, Episode 13. I hope y'all enjoy. (I live in America, so if there's a Season 4 out, I haven't seen it and don't you dare fucking spoil it for me)
Pairings: Uther/Merlin- because (though Arthur/Merlin is my OTP) I do have a certain weakness for Muther or Utherlin or whatever it's called and I don't think there's nearly enough of that pairing out in the world. Feel free to send me links to other Uther/Merlin fics because I really want to read more of those.
Warnings: Slash. Duh. And I think that's it. Oh! Major age-difference, but who really cares anymore? And OOC-ness, I suppose, but after what happened with Morgana, I don't think the way I write Uther is really that much of a reach.
Summary: Morgana has disappeared, taking her sister's corpse with her, and Prince Arthur has- reluctantly- taken the throne. Changes are imminent with Arthur in charge, but one thing remains the same; Uther Pendragon refuses to speak.
It's a one-shot, and the… therapy, I guess you'd call it, is supposed to be a long process, so the time-line's gonna be a bit jumpy. Sorry.
Disclaimer: It's not mine, and it's cruel of you to make me say so. Song lyrics are from Mumford & Sons Roll Away Your Stone. Also, not mine. (They have some really good songs, go check it out. My favourites are Little Lion Man and Thistle & Weeds.) (I don't have internet as I'm typing this, so the lyrics are written by ear. Some of them are bound to be wrong. Sorry.)
I couldn't think of a title, so I copped out and used the song's name. If anyone can come up with a title, please share.
Roll away your stone, I'll roll on mine
Together we can see what we will find
Don't leave me alone at this time
For I'm afraid of what I will discover inside
Everyone dealt with it a different way- some yelled, some cried, some threw themselves into work, some threw themselves into bed- but everyone in Camelot felt the horrible sting of their formerly beloved Morgana's betrayal.
While most of those from the Round Table took on the restoration of the city as their distraction from the reality of Morgana's rage, Arthur spent every moment he wasn't tending to his royal duties trying to get his father to talk.
Merlin always went with him. He was the one who told Arthur to eat; he reminded him when his duties came up; he was the one to take Arthur by the arm and lead him from the room; he was the one who always, without fail or lack of conviction, told him, "He'll come around. I know it. Don't worry."
Arthur would turn to him with just the slightest quirk of his lips, the smallest light in his eyes, and nod his thanks to his friend. He would then take one last look at his father and reluctantly leave the room. In his mind, he would tell himself that he wouldn't dwell, just as Merlin said. Merlin was his greatest friend, his closest confidant, and Merlin was never wrong.
'Cause you told me that I would find a hole
Within the fragile substance of my soul
And I have filled this void with things unreal
And all the while my character it steals
Merlin watched. He never interfered, never tried to help or hinder. All he did was take care of Arthur and watch.
Arthur and Uther; the two kings of Camelot- one worried about failures in his future, one tortured by failures from his past. Both injured almost beyond repair.
It had been two months since he had spilled the cup of life; two months since he'd killed Morgause; two months since Morgana had fled and Uther had spoken and Arthur had smiled.
Arthur spoke of the kingdom and its efforts to rebuild; he spoke of the knights of the Round Table and the dignitaries offering their support and alliance for the new king, or rather, to Camelot. Arthur never mentioned taking the throne. To him, as long as his father still breathed, he would never be king. The people, the knights, the foreign leaders, they would all refer to him as such, but until his father passed or spoke his blessing, Arthur would never wear the crown.
Merlin watched, and he mourned with his friend the loss of a strong king. Merlin had never liked him, he'd never liked the way he handled his mistakes or the way he made Arthur feel as if he would never be good enough for him, but he always saved him because he knew his prince needed him. Arthur needed the strength and wisdom that only his father could give. Merlin had absolutely no doubt that Arthur would lead the kingdom to greatness, but he wasn't ready to be king and at this rate he never would be.
It came time to meet with the knights and discuss the new guard rotation, so Merlin grabbed his friend's arm and led him away, saying once again, as he always did, "He'll come around. I know it. Don't worry", but Merlin saw that, for the first time, Arthur didn't believe him.
And darkness is a harsh tone, don't you think?
And yet, it dominates the things I see
How could she? It was the only thought Uther had. It was all he could contemplate; when his son visited, when the servant came, when Gaius force-fed him, when he tried to sleep.
His only daughter, his greatest joy, his darling girl… his greatest enemy. He had done nothing but love her since she had been brought to Camelot. He showered her with gifts, he took her counsel, he allowed her to learn to fight when no one else would have even considered it, and she turned to hate him for a moment of weakness.
Did she not understand how much he loved her? Did she not understand all he would have done for her?
It was that damn Morgause! Whispering in her ear, turning her against him for her own ghastly ends. How could Morgana turn against her family for one woman, sister or not? Did she forget all those years when she ran and trained with Arthur? All those times Gaius had snuck her candy and healed her wounds? All those nights when Uther would rock her in his arms until she fell back asleep each and every time she had a nightmare?
Morgause never did anything for Morgana, never cried with her at her father's grave, never comforted her after a dream, never carried her three miles through forest to get a physician when she fell off her horse and broke her ankle. Morgause arrived only when Morgana had no more growing up to do, only a new power she feared. Morgause only laid claim to her sister when she was in a moment of weakness, easy to manipulate, and too scared of losing her family to really think about abandoning them and latching onto a long-lost relation who already knew of and shared in her magic.
How could Morgana think he would despise her for being magic? He wouldn't have liked it, but as Gaius could attest to, exceptions had been made once before. He would gladly have done it again.
How could she?
How could she?
How…
It seems that all my bridges have been burned
But you say that's exactly how this grace thing works
It's not the long walk home that will change this heart
But the welcome I receive with every start
A crack of light from an open door showed Uther curled on the floor, staring out the window again. Every night, he tried not to sleep. In a cruel irony, he now suffered night terrors far more brutal than any his daughter had ever gone through. Instead of the future, he saw only the past; the death of his wife, seeming death-beds of his son, the brutal murder of his people, the burning hatred of his daughter.
Merlin looked at him from his position in the doorway and thought about why he was doing this.
It's for Arthur, he told himself again. For Arthur.
"Sire?" Uther continued to stare out the window. "My lord?" Merlin tried again. The man still stared. Finally, he tried, "Uther?" The king looked up in that reflexive way people do when someone's called their name and they've already decided not to answer. He blinked once and turned back to the window, the lines in his face highlighted by the shine of the moon.
Oh, how he's fallen, Merlin thought. Just two months ago, you would have sworn him invincible.
Merlin walked toward the fallen royal, who did nothing but curl tighter into his corner. Merlin sat on the floor in front of him, just to the side of the window. Uther turned his head to look at him again. He stared blankly at him, only slightly curious as to why the young servant was there.
"Merlin." The warlock held out his hand.
They shook.
And darkness is a harsh tone, don't you think?
And yet, it dominates the things I see
And darkness is a harsh tone, don't you think?
And yet, it dominates the things I see
Merlin visited the monarch every night after the castle had gone to sleep. Usually he would simply sit there on the floor with the man who had so constantly threatened his life. Sometimes, if something interesting had happened that day, something after Arthur's daily visit, Merlin would tell the king about it- sometimes, Merlin would talk about his childhood in Ealdor- but mostly he just sat there.
"Gwen's come up with a new design for the knight's armour; a new way of smelting the iron or something. The plates are smaller, but a lot tougher…" *
"When I was six, Will and I were running across a frozen lake when the ice broke and I fell through. He dragged me out and carried me on his back until we got to the village…"
Slowly, oh-so-slowly, oh-so-slightly so one couldn't really be sure it was happening, Uther was coming back into himself. It was small things that Merlin noticed; the way Uther tilted his head just so when someone spoke, the way he moved his arm away when Arthur visited so the prince-king could sit by him on the bed. The first time he squeezed Arthur's hand before he left, the young royal cried in Merlin's arm.
They never spoke of it, Merlin didn't have to be told to keep quiet about it, but the incident told him how much of a difference he was making in his prince's life.
"He's getting better, Merlin," Arthur had sobbed in the privacy of his rooms. "He's coming back."
Merlin put an arm around his shoulders. "See? I told you. Don't worry."
Stars, hide your fires
These, here, are my desires
And I won't give them up to you this time around
It had been six months since Merlin had started visiting the king's chambers. Things were getting better, Uther was doing things on his own- feeding himself and dressing himself- he was even sleeping, but still, he never left his chambers and he never spoke a word.
Regardless, Arthur was ecstatic at his father's improvement. He was training with his knights, he was smiling, he was calling Merlin an incompetent idiot and ordering him to muck out the stables, sharpen his sword, clean his chambers, do his laundry….
Merlin had never been so happy to be bossed around.
"Arthur worries, you know," he told Uther one night. "He's afraid he'll fail the kingdom and her people. He's afraid he'll never live up to your legacy. He's afraid you'll pass on before he can make you proud. He's afraid he'll never feel right on the throne." Uther stared at him, absorbing his words. "He refuses to wear the king's crown, you know, and he still uses the prince's throne. He's placed it right next to yours. He still feels like the prince. He always will until you give your blessing. He's never said it, but I can tell."
Merlin decided to let Uther think about what he'd said and fell silent again, sometimes adding an observation about the guards or pointing out a constellation.
The sun began to rise and so did Merlin. He needed to get breakfast and wake up his prince. He reached to turn the door handle and took one last look back at the king. His face was thoughtful; he seemed so distant. He'd never spoken to Uther about anything important, always choosing not to further burden Uther when he was already cracking under pressure.
He hoped he hadn't pushed the broken man too far.
So, I'll be found
With my stake stuck in this ground
Marking the territory of this beauty and passion
For the next few days, it seemed as if Uther was slipping back into his catatonic state. He'd stopped eating and sleeping again and Arthur was getting more worried by the minute. Merlin felt horrible. He still visited every night, but Uther had stopped reacting to his presence. There was still a look of deep concentration on the monarch's face rather than the blankness from before, and Merlin clung to that tiny hope that he hadn't ruined everything.
"Please, Uther," Merlin begged after a week of his withdrawn state. "Please. Arthur's losing weight, he's not sleeping enough, he skips training to ask Gaius about your condition. I think things are actually worse than before." Merlin tried to get Uther to look at him, but he simply stared at a spider climbing up the outside of his window. "Please. He had hope you were getting better and you're taking it away. I'll…. I'll leave you alone," Merlin attempted. "I'll never bother you again, I'll do whatever you want, I don't care, just please- please- change back; squeeze his hand, sleep, smile… something."
Uther still didn't respond, so- defeated- Merlin left.
The next morning, Merlin stood to Arthur's side as he discussed something that, frankly, Merlin wasn't listening to. He may have been the Royal Advisor in all but name, but he couldn't bring himself to care about trade or knights' training or alliances or whatever it was Arthur was going on about, especially not while he was still worrying about Uther, who still hadn't reacted to Arthur's visit.
Suddenly, the door to the conference room opened, interrupting Arthur and breaking Merlin out of his thoughts. Everyone looked up and stared- disbelieving- at what they saw.
"Father?" Arthur whispered.
There in the doorway was Uther Pendragon. He was leaning heavily on a cane and looked as if he'd aged a decade since he'd last met in that very room with his own knights, but he was there and he was standing and he was slowly opening his mouth.
"I have… always… been proud of you," he said. His voice was hoarse and stiff and he paused every few words, as if he rehearsed them time and time again yet still wasn't quite sure he'd remembered them right, but his words were sincere nonetheless. "Since the first moment I held you… I have been proud of you… and that feeling has grown everyday with you…. It reached a peak… when you reappeared in Camelot… and took back the kingdom."
Uther glanced at Merlin and Arthur turned from his father for a split second to see what he was glimpsing at. Arthur wanted to ask why his father would look at his manservant, but he was afraid the older king would stop talking.
"Your servant…" Uther said. "He goes above and beyond his duty… to care for you. When I named him your manservant… I meant to reward him… but I rewarded you both…. He worries for you like no one I have known…. He has been speaking with me… every night… for months… so that I would get better… and you would no longer have to be concerned."
Arthur could no longer resist the urge to look at Merlin and turned to face his friend. Merlin smiled weakly at his prince and nodded at the king, silently telling Arthur that his father was about to begin speaking again.
"He tells me about you," Uther continued. "How you worry… and how you don't feel like the rightful king…. You are the rightful king…. You won this kingdom… just as I had… all those years ago…." Uther smiled. It was weak and hard to see, but it was there. "And so now… for your benefit… I officially step down… and give you my blessings to run this kingdom."
Uther slowly got onto one knee and kneeled before Camelot's new king, Merlin and the knights following his example. Uther looked up at his son and Arthur smiled back at him, the two of them looking to be on the verge of tears. Merlin and the knights almost felt as if they were intruding, but they couldn't force themselves to leave. They shared a look and knew they would never tell anyone about this moment; not about how the new king and the former king embraced on the floor, not about how they cried, not about how Uther kissed the top of his son's head and told him he loved him. That meeting in the conference room would never be spoken of again, and it would never be forgotten as long as any of them lived.
And so, hide your fire
These, here, are my desires
And I won't give them up to you this time around
After the sun had gone down and Arthur had stopped simultaneously berating and thanking Merlin, the young warlock made his way to the king's chambers.
Arthur, though he now wore the king's crown and sat in the king's throne, refused to move into the king's chambers. Arthur claimed he didn't want to make his father move so soon after his recovery, but Merlin knew he just didn't want to go through reorganizing his possessions- even if Merlin would be the one transferring everything- and that he never would as long as his father was there and provided such a convenient excuse.
Merlin cracked open the door of the former king's chambers and saw the man at the table, reading over the changes Arthur had made during his rule. Merlin smiled and began to close the door when Uther called out, "You might as well come in. I know you're there."
"Sorry, sire," Merlin apologized. "I was just…" He couldn't come up with a polite way of saying it, and he certainly wanted to be polite. He didn't want the royal to feel weak so soon after being so incredibly strong.
"You were just checking up on me," Uther guessed. He smiled and looked up from his papers. "And you've been calling me by my name for months. I want you to keep doing that."
"As you wish, Uther," Merlin agreed, the name feeling a bit odd on his tongue now that he actually had permission- or rather, encouragement- to use it. Uther gestured to the chair on his left and Merlin sat down by the older man.
"You will never," Uther spoke, "fully understand how thankful I am to you." He set the papers down and looked the other man in the eyes. "You have coaxed me from darkness and brought my son and I closer than we have ever been and for that, you will always have my gratitude."
Merlin grinned. "Arthur is my friend and brother- though he would never admit it as long as he lives- and I have known I would do all I could for him since I first realized he was more than a royal arse." Uther laughed quietly, shaking his head in amusement.
"I know you have done all you could for him," Uther said. "You have done all you could for everyone in this castle and this kingdom, and it was always for the safety and happiness of my son, so I have always looked the other way when I would have otherwise given the execution order." Merlin paled- if that was at all possible- and shifted for easier access to the door. "While I do not condone your methods," Uther continued, "I cannot condemn your motives." Merlin slowly shifted back, wary and waiting for a trick. "You are loyal to my son above any and all others, and for that, I have- and will continue to- hold my silence."
"Thank you," Merlin sighed out in relief. "I… I want to tell him, but there's never a right time." Uther nodded and leaned closer to hear the other's whispered words. "So… you really won't have me executed?"
"Even if I still had the authority, I have a feeling Arthur would never speak to me again," Uther assured him. He picked up one of the papers and showed it to the warlock. "Now explain to me what in the hell Arthur was thinking when he came up with this."
And so, I'll be found
With my stake stuck in this ground
Marking the territory of this beauty and passion
And so…
Arthur quietly snuck to his father's rooms as he had done every night for the past month. He nodded to the guards as he passed them in the hall and though about how much his life had changed, all thanks to one clumsy idiot who still called him a prat every morning when he woke up.
He couldn't believe how far Merlin had gone for him, though really, he shouldn't have been so shocked. Merlin had drunk poison for him; he'd followed him to the Labyrinth; he'd faced countless monsters and dangers and deadly foes, all because he absolutely refused the let Arthur go it alone.
He thought back to the conversation he'd heard his father and Merlin having the night he'd finally taken the crown. Silly Merlin. Did he really think that his father- who knew the manservant's name purely because Arthur so constantly complained about him- would notice the younger man's magic and he wouldn't? It wasn't as if Merlin was exactly subtle; all those tree branches falling oh-so conveniently, those times when everyone died except the highly-trained prince and the clumsy, untrained servant, that mysterious wind in Ealdor. Really, he expected him to believe Will was a sorcerer? If he had been, he would've used his magic long before things got desperate enough for Hunith to travel to Camelot.
He'll tell me when he's ready, Arthur thought, knowing that he would have some fun torturing Merlin while he waited. He cracked open the door and peered inside. Well, that's interesting.
Uther wrapped his arm tighter around the form laying across him. His free hand traced the soft, pale skin of the hand on his chest and followed it up to the shoulder and then over a perfectly sculpted cheekbone. He kissed the unruly mop of hair, dark and coarse and so incredibly gorgeous.
He heard the door open and looked up. There stood his son, still and silent. The light behind him made it impossible for Uther to make out his face. After what felt like forever but was undoubtedly just a minute or so, Arthur gave him one of the hand gestured the knights' used. He told him to "go ahead", closed the door, and left.
Thank God, Arthur's not upset, Uther thought, because- though his son was the most important person in his life- the man in his arms was an angel- his angel- and he would never let him go.
Well, Arthur thought as he walked back to his rooms, if Merlin tries to tell me what to do, I'm putting him in the stocks.
And you, you've gone too far this time
You had neither reason nor rhyme
With which to take this soul that is so rightfully mine
A/N: Well, I hope you liked it. Sorry I didn't develop their relationship, but I really only wrote this to get Uther out of crazy-land. The whole Uther/Merlin thing was randomly added to the storyline in my head right before I began the actual typing.
After reading the last lyric, I was really tempted to make Arthur super-pissed because he was also in love with Merlin, but that's in every Uther/Merlin story I've ever read ever. I wanted him to be happy for them. For once.
* I couldn't think of anything for Merlin to say about the goings-on in Camelot, so I made this little shout-out to A Knight's Tale. The blacksmith came up with some new armour design that was really small- and thus openly mocked- but was tough as hell. So ha.
The "Uther's thoughts on Morgana" part is how I really feel about the situation. I don't buy those idiotic "oh, she's just scared and Uther is evil and it's not her fault" bullshit excuses. Morgana is pathetic and weak-minded and I want to smack her repeatedly.
The comment about Merlin never being wrong was my absolute favourite single line. Right next to "if Merlin tries to tell me what to do, I'm putting him in the stocks."
Arthur really should understand this by now; Merlin is always right. Seriously. I would love for an episode to go like this;
Merlin: *bursts in running/panting; tries to stop and slides across floor; falls; gets up* Arthur! [Insert Name Of Convenient/Unimportant Guest Star Here] has been possessed by a demon from hell and now (s)he's running amok in the forest with an army of undead rats, riding a flying carpet, and shooting fire out of his/her eyes!
Arthur: *glares; crosses arms haughtily* Merlin, that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of in my life.
Merlin: *annoyed* And how many times have I claimed something so ridiculous?
Arthur: *still haughty* I've lost count.
Merlin: *mockingly* And how many times have I been wrong?
Arthur: *looks down; reluctantly* I've lost count. *sighs dejectedly* Fine, let's go find this demon.
Who else would love that? Show of hands.
Ok, I'm done.
Review!
