Alright – the next installment.
I can't tell all of you how much I appreciate your reviews. They inspire me to keep on, especially at this pace! I'm loving this story myself, so it's nice that others love it too.
I feel that Uther is a sadly misunderstood character, so hopefully this shows some depth.
Stay tuned for the next chapter – and as always, your thoughts are appreciated
Lady Winter
The next morning came before Uther was prepared for it. He was awoken by one of his servants at the usual time as the man crept through his chambers like a church mouse. All of his servants were terrified of him, which Uther normally found amusing, but this morning, he was simply irritated.
He'd slept little after witnessing the display the handmaiden had made over his son's injured body in the early hours of the morning as she'd tried to convince Arthur to live all the while revealing that if nothing else, she was in love with the Prince.
Uther had yet to decide if Arthur was in love with the girl or not, although he'd spent hours attempting to come up with reasonable explanations should he find this to be true.
The first thing that had popped into his mind was sorcery. Naturally. That would certainly explain it. Perhaps the servant was enchanted as well – it would certainly explain her deviant behavior.
Uther groaned with the thought. He shook his head, mumbling to himself, and it was enough to send his servant scurrying out in worry. The King ignored him, trying to force his mind to stop turning.
He had promised himself the night before that he would let Arthur's behavior be the judge of whether or not there was a problem – whether or not he had done something foolish like fall in love with a serving girl.
Until then, the first priority had to be Arthur's health. Just thinking about everything that he'd seen with Gwen the night before had proved to be incredibly distracting, and he'd all but forgotten that Arthur was seriously injured and perhaps even in mortal danger.
That was enough to push the worries of love affairs aside and drag the aging King out of bed. He found his breakfast waiting and ate his fill, his servant, Lionel, returning just in time to help him dress.
"Have you heard any news on the Prince?" Uther asked him quickly.
"No, my Lord. Although Gaius is with him now – Sir Leon asked me to let you know he'd seen the healer there very early this morning." Uther felt a spike of fear in his chest, wondering if Gaius was just about his duty early or if he'd been summoned to Arthur's side.
It took quite a bit of effort to school his features so that Lionel would not see his reaction.
"I see. Well, get yourself down to the kitchen and make sure a proper breakfast is brought up for Prince Arthur in case he is awake. That incompetent servant of his isn't bound to have done anything that useful – broken arm and all," he groused, trying to hide his worry in irritation and orders.
Lionel jumped like he always did and flew out of the room to do his master's bidding. Uther let a sigh of frustration escape when he was gone.
"Igraine…why aren't you here now? Your son needs you," he said softly, as if she could hear him. He missed her as if it was the day she died – the pain was still that real. If she had just been there now, he could rely on her to give Arthur all the love and support that he couldn't be seen to be giving.
People viewed him as ruthless and cold, a man not to be trifled with. If he let people know how much he loved, cared about, and worried for Arthur, they would perceive his weakness – and weaknesses were dangerous.
Under normal circumstances, Uther would never be ashamed to admit how much he loved Arthur – in his own way. But being a King wasn't normal – and if he were to show just how much of a weakness Arthur was to him, Arthur would be in more danger than he already was as sole heir to the throne of an enviable, prosperous kingdom.
Uther was afraid to admit to himself that if someone asked him to trade Camelot for Arthur; he would do as they asked. So from the day Arthur was born, Uther had distanced himself from the golden-haired child. No one would ever know the true depth of his attachment to his son – but sadly, that really mean no one – including Arthur himself.
It couldn't have been easy growing up without a mother while having a father that kept you at arm's length. Someday, he hoped that Arthur would understand what he had done and why, but pride would keep him from ever explaining it himself.
The King snatched up his cloak and headed for the door, and started off down the hall. He wanted to go straight to Arthur, but instead, he would go to the throne room first and meet with the Court as he always did after breakfast. Appearances had to be kept up and the Kingdom couldn't grind to a halt because the Prince had been injured. It certainly wasn't the first time, and Uther had to admit it would most likely not be the last.
He was almost to the main hallway when he heard the sound of running feet, and he turned, ready to reprimand whatever servant it was when he caught sight of Merlin, headed straight towards him.
"My lord!" the servant greeted, out of breath. His broken arm had been wrapped tightly by Gaius and splinted, and was pressed against his chest with a sling.
"What is it?" he asked, hot fire racing through his body as he worried at what the boy had to say.
"Gaius thought you might like an update on the Prince before you attended court as you would not be able to visit him until afterwards," Merlin explained in his usual bumbling quickness.
Uther almost sighed visibly with relief. Leave it to Gaius – the old physician understood things in the way that no others did. He understood Uther's precarious position, and although he'd made it quite clear that he often disagreed, he always did what was best for the kingdom.
"Well? Report!" Uther said.
Merlin flushed a little, and if Uther had stopped to think about it, the boy had looked annoyed.
"Prince Arthur has a very bad fever, but Gaius believes he can keep it in check. He wanted to let you know he'd be with the Prince all day and has asked several of the knights to continually bring cold water from the underground springs up to the Prince's rooms. He said he hoped you didn't mind and that he had chosen several….discreet knights."
Uther nodded. Gaius was most loyal.
"Of course, tell him that whatever Arthur needs, he's to get. My son…he hasn't woken?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Merlin looked to be studying him carefully, but responded immediately.
"I'm afraid not, sire. He's very restless though, tossing and turning," the boy responded.
Uther swallowed hard. "Make sure you do as Gaius asks. While your master is injured, you are to be at Gaius' disposal," he said, although he knew the orders were unnecessary. Although sometimes appearing to be brash and incompetent, Merlin was more than loyal to Arthur, especially in times of need.
"Yes, sire. Of course," the boy said with a fierce determination; as if he could single handedly heal Arthur. Then, assuming himself to be dismissed, Merlin turned to leave.
Uther reached out a hand and grasped his sleeve, startling the dark haired servant, and he swung back, eyes wide.
"Is…the servant girl still there?" he asked, trying to sound casual and purposefully not calling her by her name.
Merlin looked surprised, his eyebrows shooting up in a way that made Uther feel like the servant was alarmed by something.
"Gwen? No…Gaius sent her to get some sleep," he explained quickly. "She was up all night with the Prince tending to him," he added in a somewhat defensive tone.
Uther realized that Merlin thought he was going to be angry that the girl wasn't there. The truth was, he was simply relieved.
"That's fine," he said dismissively and the servant visibly relaxed. Then, Uther thought to himself that if anyone knew anything about Gwen and Arthur being in love, it would be Merlin. "Merlin," he said slowly, amused that the young man jumped at the use of his first name.
"Yes, sire?" Merlin asked with a barely concealed gulp.
"Have you noticed anything odd going on between the Prince and that servant girl – Guinevere?" he asked, keeping his tone so that it sounded like he hadn't a care in the world. He pretended to look away as if he didn't really care about the answer to the question, but in reality, he watched Merlin like a hawk from the corner of his vision.
Merlin looked like he wanted to run. Like a frightened animal, cornered by a predator, but when he replied, his voice was remarkably even and he even managed to contort his facial features into a look of confusion.
"The Prince and Guinevere, my Lord? No, not at all – why do you ask?"
Uther inwardly cursed at the boy's talent of deception that almost rivaled his own – but Uther knew when someone was hiding something from him.
"I'd noticed that she seemed…quite concerned over the Prince's injury," Uther baited.
Merlin batted his eyelashes furiously, chasing away a panicked look that Uther barely had time to discern.
"Really, sire? I just thought that she was appropriately concerned for her sovereign," he managed to say, sounding perplexed, but Uther caught him flexing his hands into fists in a worried manner.
"Of course, you must be right," Uther allowed, and watched the boy relax. It was a sure tell that he'd been keeping something from his King.
Normally, Uther would have been angry – but now he was just worried. It was like a confirmation of his own fears. Merlin clearly knew something was going on, and that kind of confirmation was very scary.
"If you don't mind, Sire, I'd like to return to my master's side," Merlin said, playing the part of the devoted servant with accomplished ease.
Uther stared at him long and hard, and the boy wiggled a little. "Of course, and tell Gaius I want to be informed if Arthur's condition changes at all."
"Of course, my Lord," Merlin agreed, and then all but sprinted off.
Uther wanted to dwell further on Merlin's obvious deception, but he was already late to Court. Still, he couldn't help but think that the boy must be incredibly loyal to his son to risk the punishment for lying to the King.
The question was exactly what he'd lied about. Uther had a feeling that Merlin knew a lot more than he was letting on, but it could just be that he knew of Gwen's affections for Arthur and was trying to protect his friend.
Or, it could be worse – Merlin could know that the two young adults had formed some sort of relationship and was covering for both master and fellow servant. Arthur could have ordered him to keep quiet.
Uther shook his head, his stomach flip-flopping as he hurried into the throne room. As he was almost never late, everyone was milling about in confusion.
"Quiet!" he roared, his nerves getting the better of him, and instantly, the twittering and movement stopped. He stalked his way to the throne, not caring if he looked like an angry old man. He sat with a flourish and waved one hand at the crowd gathered before him.
"Before we begin, I'm sure many of you have heard that report that Prince Arthur was injured in his endeavor to further solidify the safety of Camelot. You may rest-assured that he skillfully handled the threat and had dealt with the mercenaries in a very final manner. As usual, the royal house has given you the protection you require," he said with all the pomp and attitude that he could muster. "The Prince is recovering from his injury and will be off his feet for a few days, but you should not worry. I'm sure he'll be up and about in no time. No one is to bother him while his injury heals and I will…update the kingdom on his recovery as I can."
There was a soft murmur that went through the crowd, no doubt as the nobles already began to gossip about Arthur. By afternoon, the lower town would be filled with rumors of Arthur's victory and injury.
Uther sighed in irritation, wanting to be up in his son's room – not pandering to his court, but instead, he loudly called for their session to begin.
It was hard to stay focused on the affairs of state when he was worried about his son and the mystery he had discovered.
For the first time since he'd heard Gwen admit her love for Arthur, he wondered exactly what he would do if Arthur truly as in love with her – and there was no other explanation besides love itself.
As soon as the question arose, Uther smothered it. He couldn't even start to think about that yet.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Uther was free of his royal obligations, and he made his way to Arthur's chambers as quickly as he could, though he took a roundabout route in the hopes that no one would observe him. He didn't want the people to worry that Arthur was too badly wounded, and if they saw their normally stoic King rushing to his son's side, the rumors would be like wild-fire and panic could easily take over.
Arthur was too well loved and respected - and there was the risk that if Arthur died, Uther might lose control of them. He'd never expected that to happen, and it had been a brutal realization. He hated to admit it, but he knew quite a few of them were holding out for "better days."
Finally, he reached Arthur's door just as Sir Leon arrived with a heavy bucket of ice-cold water. Startled, Uther found himself opening the door to admit the knight, who looked horribly embarrassed that the King had been forced to do something so mundane.
Uther chose not to say anything, and instead followed Leon in.
"Sire," Gaius greeted formally when he saw Uther behind the water-bearing knight.
For a moment, Uther didn't respond, his eyes darting to the large four posted bed and finding it empty. Panic gripped his heart, and only Leon's presence kept him from doing something rash, and he looked around in the room frantically for any sign of his son.
A moment later, he caught sight of the blond headed young man, tucked into his bathtub, eyes still closed, face unnaturally still. Arthur's cheeks were flushed bright pink, screaming of fever, but he looked cold in an odd way. Leon deposited the most recent bucket into the tub, then with a quick bow, disappeared out of the room.
Uther jolted slightly when Gaius, who seemed to have crossed the room in just a second, touched his arm.
"Sire? Are you alright?" he asked, one eyebrow quirking.
"Yes…me…" Uther hated how his voice faltered, and was glad that only Gaius and Merlin were in the room – and that Merlin seemed occupied by making sure his master was being taken care of.
"Arthur is fighting a high fever, my Lord," Gaius said, noting his distress and wisely choosing to be careful not to embarrass the King. "But it is taking a toll on his body. The infection is severe. I have had to reopen and close the wound twice since this morning," the healer said, worry heavy in his voice. "To keep the fever down, we must keep him cold, but the shock to his body is making him very weak."
Uther opened and closed his mouth twice, uncertain what to say. He'd been hoping for far better news.
"Don't lose hope, Uther," Gaius said, suddenly very quiet when he addressed Uther using his given name. He only did so on the rare occasion that he wanted to convey to Uther that whatever he was about to say could be trusted beyond doubt. "Arthur is a very strong young man. I have faith he will make it through this. If he gets through the night, tomorrow will be much better for him. Your son will live," Gaius said, making a promise both he and Uther knew he couldn't be sure to keep.
Still, Uther was placated. Gaius was rarely wrong in his predictions, and he knew Arthur's physical condition better than anyone.
Uther let out a long, slow sigh, feeling very weary.
"I can't lose him Gaius. You understand? He must live…I can't lose him like I lost Igraine," he said, surprised at how broken his voice sounded. He felt as he had before when Arthur had been bit by the Questing Beast – but this time, Gaius was giving him hope.
"Arthur has much to live for," Gaius reminded his sovereign, an odd look in his eye and Uther suddenly had a feeling that the healer was speaking about more than Arthur's eventual ascension to the throne. Instantly, he looked at his old friend suspiciously. If Gaius noticed, he did bother responding to his King's sudden change in mood. "Try not to worry," he said simply, and then moved off before Uther even had the nerve to question him.
Uther might have dwelt on the possible conspiracy if he hadn't been so worried about Arthur, so he let the matter dropped and went to see his son.
The crown prince was a sad, wet mess. His pale skin was puckered with heat and cold, warring against each other. His blond hair was plastered to his skin from the sweat of the fever, and his cheeks were flaming to the touch, but his lips were tinged oddly blue, as if he was freezing. In the water, the bruises and abrasions looked harsh and ugly. Uther shivered.
"It's time to get him out of there and wrap him up tight – and let him sweat the rest of it out," Gaius said, joining him after a few moments. "I can call Sir Leon to help if you'd like as Merlin only has one good arm…"
"No," Uther said quickly. "I'll do it," he explained, hoping that Gaius believed it was because he wanted the affair kept private. In all truth, he rarely had the chance to touch his son, and this would hopefully help him feel that Arthur was still alive.
Gaius nodded in a way that said Uther hadn't fooled him, but simply gave the King some instructions. Soon enough, Uther was pulling Arthur's cold body out of the bath, and Merlin and Gaius were there a moment later, quickly drying his skin and then starting to wrap him tightly.
"We don't want him thrashing and opening his wound," Gaius told Uther, despite the fact that he'd done something similar to Uther once, a long time ago after a particularly vicious battle wound.
Uther nodded absently and then bodily carried Arthur to the bed where he set him down with the care of carrying a priceless vase. Then, he and Gaius carefully piled on the blankets and furs that were normally reserved for winter, literally burying the Prince.
"Now what?" Uther asked, reaching out to touch his son's face, for once not caring if Gaius or Merlin saw the act of affection.
"Now we wait."
