"—magic!"

The last word exploded out of him in a rush, as Uther tried desperately to get his son to understand the true urgency of the situation. And at that second, Uther looked around and realized he was too late. The halls of Camelot had been replaced by the shadowy, familiar surroundings of the afterlife.

"Dammit!" Uther cried. "He never listens!"

Uther growled to himself, crossing his arms (and distantly happy to realize he wasn't blue anymore).

"Yeah," said a cold, sarcastic voice from behind him. "I wonder where he gets that from."

Uther went still and pale.

Seconds passed, and Uther did not move, and suddenly he realized that there was no escaping it. He had to turn around.

"Ygraine, darling," he said as he did. "I can explain."

"Explain what?" asked the blonde who stood, resplendent but quite dead, several feet away from him, her arms crossed over her pale chest. "Attempted murder? Of which person?" Her face was stone.

Uther thought he might faint, but alas, the dead no longer lost consciousness. He'd never been so jealous of his son.

"I didn't mean to go into that world," Uther told her. "I wouldn't choose to leave here without you. Really. Arthur called me in when he looked back—I simply meant to tell him I loved him, despite what I said, and you know how I am. I can't say it to his face."

That all being said, Uther began to blush violently. He wasn't used to telling the truth, but he was really, truly scared of what would happen if he did not. His wife couldn't kill him, as he was, again, dead. But she had always been creative.

"I am not angry," Ygraine said clearly, "because you went back into the other world. I am not angry because you talked to Arthur. I am not even angry because you told him you were not proud of him—not right now, anyway, but we'll talk about that later, because you know you only had that one time! How could you waste it? But you tried to kill Merlin."

"He was a sorcerer."

"I know. I've known since I met him with Arthur."

"You didn't tell me."

"Arthur is fond of him. And he of Arthur. He saved your son's life."

"Sorcery is evil!" Uther yelled at her, feeling the tightening in his chest that he hadn't seen he was alive.

"We both know you say that because you don't want to admit you made a terrible mistake," Ygraine said, waving that protest away with her hand. Then her face hardened. "You tried to kill Guinevere. She is a lovely woman, and you tried to kill her."

"She is causing my son to ruin Camelot!" Uther snapped. "He just can't see it, but she shouldn't be queen. I was doing it for him. Camelot is my realm, and I could not stand by and watch as a mere servant undid my work on it."

"Camelot is your son's realm. Your turn is over, Uther. And what about Percival? You tried to kill him, too. You didn't do that when you were alive."

"Arthur would not listen to me," Uther snapped suddenly, the tight feeling exploding. "Arthur is changing Camelot, and he is wrong. I created that kingdom; it is mine. I fought for it. And I was careful with my laws and my reasons… And he wants to destroy it. He wants to make it for the weak, the common… He doesn't truly understand. My teachings were for nothing if he doesn't understand. And I am dead! I am dead, Ygraine!" Uther was yelling now, and there were tears in his eyes. He couldn't stop himself. "I'm dead. I can't make him listen. I don't want him to ruin his life or my legacy but I cannot make him stop."

He paused.

"I can't. Because," he finished sadly, "he sent me away."

Ygraine's hands fell away from their crossed position and she stepped toward Uther. "Isn't it his right to change things if he sees fit?"

Uther felt panic inside, now. It was Arthur's right. Of course it was. Uther changed what his own father said… And he was right to do it, too. "But," he said, quietly, and those damn tears wouldn't leave his eyes. "But it isn't how I ruled Camelot… And people like this better. They like Arthur better." He blinked and stepped away from his wife, unable to meet her eyes. "They think he is a better king… a better man. After I strove my whole life to create a stable land, my legacy is to be the man who was not as good as his son. Even though I was right!"

No, was he crying? He was. Oh, no, he had said he would not cry in front of his wife. Why could he not sleep, but he could produce tears? The afterlife was all wrong! He could feel the water warm on his face.

Ygraine stepped forward and put her hands on Uther's shoulders, forcing him to look her in the ghostly face.

"You tried to kill Arthur," she said, so quietly that if there was any other sound surrounding them, Uther would not have heard it.

And Uther broke.

"No," he choked, face twisting. His throat burned. "No, I wouldn't have done it," he said. "I know it looked like… But no. No, I swear, Ygraine. I swear on my own grave or yours or the grave of whomever you think I would honor. I was terrified. He would not listen to me, and he was destroying my name and my kingdom, and I knocked him out."

He couldn't speak for a second. In the real world, he never would have said these things. But Ygraine was different. She was his wife, and she was looking at him with accusing eyes. He could say this, though; there was no one around to hear him except for her.

"But Ygraine, I swear to you, I would not have killed him. Arthur means more to me than Camelot. Arthur means more to me than everything I ever had in life. He is our son, Ygraine, and though I would not permit him to slur my name, I would not harm him."

Ygraine's blue eyes (oh, why did she have to have the same eyes as her son?) met his steadily. "Is that the truth, my love?"

"Ygraine, I died for him once already. I would do it again."

Uther looked at his wife, hoping she would understand. He had already been the death of one Pendragon. He had been the estrangement of another. And the estranged one had been the death of Uther himself. It was not a trend Uther would ever wish to perpetuate.

Ygraine's eyes softened, and seeing that on her was almost as good as having Arthur's forgiveness. (He would probably never have Arthur's forgiveness.) Suddenly her warm arms enveloped her crying husband.

"I believe you," she said. "And for that, I forgive you everything else."

There would never be anyone who would ask, and so Uther would never have to admit that at that moment, he gave a sob into his wife's shoulder.

"He's going to be the ruin of Camelot, though," Uther whispered, and it hurt so badly to say it. "He's going to be the ruin of me."

Her hug tightened. "You had the chance to make your mistakes," she said. "You had your turn. It's his, now."

"That's what Arthur said," Uther admitted.

"Then, you see, he is already wiser than you give him credit for," Ygraine commented, hugging her tyrant deeply to her chest, wishing that fools could see their own folly, wishing that good intentions could forgive sins, but grateful that love could see past every fault.

A/N: Still crying. Leave me to die. Uther. My Uther. WHY DID THEY TRY TO RUIN HIM? I WILL NOT LET THEM.

Oh, by the way, if you didn't hear, I think I will be stopping activity on here… I mean, I won't really be writing more stories, though I am going to finish up the ones I'm working on (Pick up the Pieces and Gilligan's Lady). Might never write that Star Trek one, though, sorry… PM me if you need to know more.

Please review. Even if most of you hate Uther.

Also, no Rebukes and Reviews this week.