Uther was annoyed. The stupid sorcerer hadn't given up anything despite Uther having spent the whole night personally interrogating him; not why he was in Camelot, not what he had done to Uther's son and his knights, not where other magic users were. Then he had taken all morning to actually die. And now Uther was getting concerned reports from a number of individuals, nobles and servants alike, that they had heard a disturbing sound like someone crying out in anguish and several had been convinced that it was the ghost of the sorcerer come to haunt them.

At least that mystery had been quickly figured out as a servant reported the sound had come from none other than his son, as she had witnessed the strange scene in the courtyard in person. Just another on the increasingly long list of things he had to talk to Arthur about during their lunch. Uther sat up as the door was suddenly thrown open. Arthur entered, followed by three of his knights, and for a moment Uther could only stare at his offspring.

Arthur looked almost like he had come from a battle. There was ash on his clothes and in his hair, though the prince's armor was clean. Cutting through the soot on his cheeks were tear tracks and there was a fire in his eyes that Uther had never seen before. "Arthur. I don't think you need your knights here for a simple lunch." Uther greeted cautiously.

He got no reply as Arthur studied him, looking him over from head to toe with a blank expression. "The sorcerer is dead. Have you been freed from your enchantment?" Uther questioned. He was a bit disturbed at Arthur's unusual behavior and could think of no other reason for his son to be acting so strangely.

To his surprise, and confusion, his question got a smile. It was the same Arthur had given him many times in the past, but something about this one felt wrong. Fake. "Yes, I think I finally have." He answered as he began walking, one step at a time towards the throne where Uther sat. "I've been freed from your enchantment." He added with such malice Uther almost didn't even register the words.

Several people, guards and servants around the room, gasped at Arthur's declaration, but the prince wasn't done speaking. "You haven't cast any actual spell against me, that's true, but I was under your control nonetheless. God, how many innocent men, women, and children have you put to death in your reign simply for having magic? And for far too many I have stood by and done nothing. No more." Arthur drew his sword and Uther leapt up.

"Guards, detain him." Uther ordered. Several of his guards rushed forward to comply and were met with Arthur's knights. The scuffle, which Arthur did not even pause to listen to, was embarrassingly quick especially since some of his guards were apparently hesitant to make a stand against Arthur.

Uther thoughts were rapid as he realized what was happening. As if Arthur knew his thoughts his smile turned almost predatory. "Step down, Uther. Your reign is done." Arthur ordered. Uther drew his sword and Arthur scoffed. "Don't mistake my offer for kindness. You executed the man that meant everything to me this morning and it is only because he insisted I not give into the hate that destroyed you that I haven't already run you through."

"You would kill me?" Uther could only recall feeling numb and betrayed like this once before, when Morgana had said similarly biting words before attempting to kill him. The frightening thought was that he didn't doubt Arthur would do it.

"I would, though I would prefer this not end in that kind of bloodshed. Regardless of everything you've done you are still my father and I don't need your blood on my hands. Let alone as the way to start my reign." Arthur admitted.

Uther scoffed. "You think a king would so easily give up his throne? I thought I taught you better than to think that." It was a bit of a farce, his confidence, and he expected Arthur to at least falter. Instead the prince laughed.

"Yes, you taught me that a king is meant to be stubborn. Determined. Hard. Unmerciful. Unrelenting. And I truly believed that was the way a king was meant to be. It was Merlin showed me different. Taught me that compassion can be far more powerful than fear and that magic is so much more than just evil." Arthur was just out of swords reach and there he stopped. "I'll give you one more chance, Uther. Step down as king." Arthur ordered.

"Or what? You'll kill me right here? You've already played your hand. You don't really want to kill me." Uther challenged and Arthur suddenly withdrew his sword. For a moment Uther was confused, and just the tiniest bit hopeful that this would end here. Then Arthur threw his gauntlet down at Uther's feet.

"I challenge you, King Uther Pendragon, as your rightful and sole heir, to a duel for the throne of Camelot." Arthur declared. Uther studied Arthur's face, taking in details he had not noticed before. His son was no longer a boy; he was a man. A man with his own convictions and scars. He had seen heartbreak and been through battles Uther had not seen. This was not a child before him, willing to follow his orders, but a king in his own right.

Uther refused to let his revelation show as he grabbed Arthur's gauntlet. "I accept your challenge and those here stand as witnesses of the challenge issued and accepted. The duel will occur in three hours." He decided, hoping the quick timeline might surprise Arthur, but the prince only nodded his agreement.

Arthur turned and began walking away only to pause and look at Uther again. His expression was neutral as he studied the king for a long moment. "Merlin was right. I don't hate you. I pity you." Arthur said before he turned and left the room, his knights following close.

The door slammed shut behind them and Uther dropped onto his throne, feeling very much as if he had just survived a storm. But as he subtly considered those in the room, the servants and guards who had witnessed everything, most of whom had yet to return to their positions or jobs and were just as shocked as he was, he realized something. He may have survived the first wave, but the storm was far from over.