Disclaimer: Nope…don't own Merlin…Or BBC or any of that shtuf…wish I did though agh! Though according to this fanfic, that would probably be a VERY bad thing.
Author's Note: *Looks around guiltily* Um…this is a very terrible thing of me to do yeah pretty bad, but I think people should know why Uther does what he does. At least why I think why Uther does what he does. He's not a mad man! *Looks around a little crazily and people look at me like I'm insane* Okay, at least not until season 4 comes around -_- but this is before. This takes place in season three before the last episodes, you decide which this is between.
So um…enjoy I guess? And please don't kill me!
Summary- Uther Pendragon doesn't enjoy to watch their deaths…but it's satisfying to know that he's ridding the world of evil…This is why he does it.
"This man...Has been found guilty of using magic and enchantments, and by the laws that uphold Camelot, there is only one sentence I can pass."
He pauses to let the words sink in for the people, his son, and the sorcerer. He must let them know the horror of magic, the twisted intention of each magic bearer. The reason why those who posses magic mustbe exterminated from Camelot, and hopefully one day, the world.
Magic is evil.
Pure, simple, and all true was that statement. It had no good in it. It drove the people it chose to possess to insanity. It had killed the most perfect person in the world...the one he loved most.
As the king of Camelot gazed sternly down at the young man about to be executed, he wished for just a moment, that the evil had not chosen him, but a low life, a criminal who deserved death. He wished that magic had never claimed him, he wished that this man had not summoned magic into his being, killing the person he could have been. He wished that the magic he had practiced had not chosen to take control of his life...
There was only one way to get rid of the magic inside the man.
Death.
The man had to die, there was no other option. The magic could only be exterminated through its bearer's body. He had no other choice.
Even though he only saw innocents in the teenage boy's swirling blue eyes, he knew the magic was trying to find a way to survive, to once again destroy the lives of others, to bring down the flourishing kingdom of Camelot. As the king of the proud land, he must ensure its survival and bountiful health.
The king knew many sought out his death, even those without magic. They thought magic could be used as a tool, a device, a weapon like a sword.
They were all wrong.
Magic was twisted; Satan himself was the host of magic. He let it bleed into the people, seeking only for their, and everything that was goods destruction. Magic was a tool of the devil. Magic controlled you; it could never be the other way around.
He thought once he had had a friend...a beautiful women, she had been his counselor, his advisor, his caretaker. But he knew it had all been a lie, for his wife, his perfect, beautiful, wife was dead because of her evil. Because of the magic his wife was murdered.
Nimueh took away his life, his entire being and left him with nothing...nothing but a son whom was his only light and wonderful reminder of his lovely Ygraine.
The witch had said the balance of the world must be restored...it could have been anyone. ANYONE even himself, but not Ygraine. That's when he knew the witch had been plotting his downfall for her entire life, she thought he would be broken...useless...
She was wrong.
He became stronger, saw the truth. He knew he must remain strong for his wife, and rid the world of the evil that had taken her precious life.
And so he did.
Camelot's survival depended on him. Camelot was a strong, thriving, kingdom which was his pride and joy next to his son. He must protect it, protect the people that made the kingdom what it was, protect himself so that the bountiful land could continue for generations to come, protect his beautiful ward, his secret daughter whom he loved with his whole heart...Then most importantly he must protect his son.
He was only thing that kept him going, kept him thinking that life still meant something, kept him protecting and defending the people at all costs. He was the last remaining part of Ygraine, and she shown in him like the bright northern star. He would do anything anything to ensure his safety and survival.
Which was why he was ignoring his son's pleading behind him, begging him that he had this all wrong.
"Listen to me Father, this isn't something he chose!" He heard his son plea for the millionth time. He continued to struggle against the guards even though he knew he wasn't even a slight match against five. "Please, he's innocent! His father was a dragonlord, not him!"
Was it true? Could he be justified? Could it be that he never practiced sorcery, that the sins of his father were not his? Could it be that magic had never touched an inch of this boy's soul? Was this boy innocent?
No.
Magic was in him.
Gaius had said so himself. The powers of the dragonlords were passed down from father to son, his father was dead, and so he had inherited his gift.
Inherited his magic.
"FATHER PLEASE!"Once again he ignored the cry of his son. He must be enchanted. Why else would a prince of Camelot care so much about a serving boy? Care for him like a brother?
It angered the king that that boy tied to the pyre would dare enchant his son. Dare try to infect him with his evil magic to save his own life. What a cowardly thing to do.
For all he knew this once-thought-to-be-loyal servant had enchanted his son the minute they had met in the square. For all he knew, he had been in line with the evil witch who tried to kill his son, and had just faked saving him to get closer to the crown. All the times he had saved him, drunk the poison, saved him from the bandits. It was just to get to him.
Yes, that must be it.
Finally the world would be rid of the dragonlords. Finally it could be free from that type of magic. Nearer and nearer came the world to achieving peace. All because of him. All because of his actions. All because he was not blind to the most obvious evil there was...
One day his son's eyes would be opened as well. Though he heard the horror stricken voice behind him he knew his son would take the throne and continue what he had started until there was no magic left in the world to corrupt innocent lives. Camelot would thrive, and the world would finally be at peace.
All because he had seen what evil truly was.
Magic.
He must rid the world of it. Must save innocent lives, must protect the only loved ones he had left.
He must avenge his wife's death.
Those unspoken words played over in his head over and over. Every time he spoke out to the crowds, telling them that he was doing this for the safety and security of Camelot, which he was, he was also doing this for revenge. Revenge on those who had murdered his perfect wife. Murdered the only one that made him complete.
He would only be satisfied once magic had been banned from existence.
For the safety and security of Camelot, to protect his only son and daughter, to avenge the life that had been taken so unfairly, the king must execute the last dragonlord in existence.
"Merlin, son of Balinor, the last Dragonlord... I Uther Pendragon, sentence you... to death."
"NO!"The voice of his son rises to such a high level, that many people in the square look up to see the horrified eyes of the prince locked on the sorcerer tied to the pyre.
The king lets his hand fall and the fires of hell come up to consume what had once been there's.
He never enjoyed watching another's death. Even a sorcerer's. He never enjoyed the screams, the agony, watching the flames eat away at flesh and bone. He couldn't bear to watch his citizens' faces as he was slowly burned to death.
This death was much crueler.
The screams of his son were but a small buzzing in the back of his head. The only thing the king could fix his attention on was the horrified look on the young sorcerer's face. It was so...defeated. So sad, so utterly terrifiedthat the king couldn't look away. His dark blue eyes swam with tears that would soon be burned away from his ashen face and his feeble struggle against the tight ropes was like watching a small puppy try to get away from a leash.
Innocent.
No. Not innocent, it was magic. Magic was trying to escape by playing trick on his mind. He wouldn't fall for it, though his son was, he would not. He was strong. He fought against magic; he could see when it tried to use him.
The worst, though, was the fact that he saw the boy trying to be brave. He saw him fight the urge to scream at the top of his lungs begging someone to stop the pain, stop the fire. He saw him cringe and flinch and sometimes begin to yell, but he quickly covered it up and instead let his face screw into a mask of pain.
He was not being brave for himself.
No, he was not trying to save his reputation. He was being brave for those who cared most about him. He was holding back the screams of pain and writhing agony so that his loved ones wouldn't have to bear the pain of watching him die.
So that Arthur wouldn't have to watch.
So that Gaius wouldn't have to watch. That the serving girl Gwen wouldn't have to watch. So that his mother wouldn't have to watch.
Though the boy was tied to the pyre being burned alive. He had thought of others first.
Magic was a truly evil thing.
Finally it ended. Finally.The king didn't think he could bear it much longer.
He had done it. Rid the world of dragonlords, rid the world of more magic, rid the world of that type of evil. It was done.
He, Uther Pendragon, was savior of Camelot.