Author's Note: I apologise for the lengthy delay there has been in me updating this story. I started university in September, and so studying has taken up most of my time!
There was a sharp intake of breath as the assembled audience gasped at my words. Of all the things that they'd been expecting me to do or say, that probably hadn't been one of them. The King himself had turned quite pale from shock, and was wearing an expression of pure disbelief.
"Impossible," he whispered. Seemingly regaining his composure, he spoke again in with a stronger voice. "Don't be ridiculous, Merlin." In that moment, I found it impossible to ignore how similar Uther and Arthur sounded when ridiculing me, though thankfully this seemed to be the only thing of Uther's that Arthur had inherited."Even with magic, what you suggest is impossible. My Queen is dead. Your people," he all but spat, "murdered her over twenty years ago. Magic killed her, and it certainly can't bring her back."
"Are you sure, Uther? Because I know for a fact that you don't honestly believe what you're saying any more than I do. According to you, magic is a force for evil, and its use can never be justified. But, that still didn't stop you from imploring Gaius to use it to heal Morgana, did it?" There was another collective gasp from within the Great Hall, but I did my best to ignore it. It would not do to become distracted now. I kept eye contact with Uther, not even daring to glance at Arthur's expression. "All these years, you've slaughtered those who've shown even the slightest magical talent, and yet when Morgana was mortally wounded, you had no scruples in asking Gaius to heal her with the very thing that you then killed him for possessing. You thought that he'd taken your secret to the grave, but he didn't. He lives on in me, as does your secret."
"You can't possibly know anything." Uther's bravado did not quite correspond with the look of fear in his eyes. "You're nothing but a serving boy!"
I rolled my eyes impatiently. "So I've been told, countless times before." I spoke a little louder, now addressing the entire Court instead of just their King. "Though allow me to tell you all something that I don't think that you'll have been told before." I took a deep breath, and stole a glance at Arthur, who was managing to look both wary and intrigued in equal measures. There was a pang in my stomach as I realised how much my next words would hurt him, but I had no choice. The past had to be dealt with before we could move forwards. "The only reason that Arthur, Prince of Camelot, stands before you now is because Uther used magic to aid in his conception."
Cries of "liar" and "impossible" erupted throughout the Great Hall, but when Uther said nothing to contradict me, silence soon replaced the protestations. All eyes were fixed on either Uther, Arthur or myself. Finally, I had everybody's full attention; nobody could feign disinterest any longer. Uther was too preoccupied with Arthur's reaction to notice that I had begun to step closer to them. I had never seen Arthur look so lost, and I wished that there had been another way around this.
"I'm sorry, Arthur," I whispered.
Arthur fixed his gaze on his father. "T-tell me," he broke off to clear his throat, which had become clogged with an impossible amount of simultaneous emotions. "Tell me this isn't true. I need to hear this from your lips."
To an outsider, it looked liked Arthur had lost faith in what I was saying, but I knew better than that. Arthur believed me, he just needed to hear the truth about his birth from the one remaining parent that he had. Arthur needed to be told that he had been born of magic by the very person who had forced him to persecute the sorcerers whose gifts had made his birth possible in the first place. Then, and only then, could I proceed.
Uther took a few moments to collect himself before speaking. "I'm sorry Arthur, but I can't do that. What Merlin says is true. Your birth was only possible because I ordered a sorceress to intervene."
Alarm bells began to ring in my head. This couldn't be right. Uther was admitting to this too easily, especially after the effort he had put in to keep it hidden all these years. I knew better than most that the man simply couldn't be trusted. What was he up to now?
"My poor wife, Ygraine, and I," Uther continued, addressing the entire court now too, "could not conceive naturally. We tried for many months, but to no avail. Meanwhile, the Camelot's safety was purely reliant on a truce between the Four Kingdoms being honoured on all sides. One act of war from any side could have shattered the fragile peace which existed. I knew that Camelot needed an heir in order to secure its future, but my wife and I were struggling to provide the people with one. So, I sought the help of a local sorceress named Nimueh, who promised to assist in the conception of a healthy male heir for Camelot, born of Ygraine and I."
Suddenly, it all became clear to me. Uther was playing on people's sympathies and loyalties, basically saying 'I-Did-It-To-Protect-You-All-And-So-You-Cannot-Bla me-Me-For-My-Actions'.
"However, the sorceress did not tell me the price of my request."
"You never asked!" I exclaimed.
"How do you know?" Uther's eyes narrowed on me. "You weren't there, you didn't have to see what I saw! Nimueh never told me that to give life, life must be taken away. You didn't have to watch as your wife's life was taken in order to grant life to your son! What would you have done? How could you have chosen between them after realising what was happening?"
"I wouldn't have done it in the first place! You profess to have cared for your wife so much, and yet you betrayed her during the time that she needed you most!"
"I have just told you that I did not know that she would die! If I had then I..."
"You what?" I demanded, suddenly fearless. "Are you telling me that, had you known the price of your request, you would have backtracked and remained in a childless marriage with Ygraine, even though you have just acknowledged how risky this would have been for the Kingdom?" When Uther failed to reply, I scoffed. "No, I didn't think so. You would have done anything to father an heir, and in fact you did, didn't you? Before you turned to magic to help you conceive with Ygraine, you had already turned to another woman to provide you with an heir naturally!"
"Morgana," Arthur acknowledged quietly.
"Yes, your sister was intended to be Camelot's heir," I nodded. "I can only assume that when she proved to be a girl, not the boy which the Kingdom craved, Uther proceeded with his plan to manipulate Nimueh into helping Ygraine conceive. No doubt that had Morgana been a boy, the King planned to take her from her birth family and present her as a miracle child, born to himself and Ygraine through some kind of divine intervention."
"Are you telling me," Arthur spoke slowly, "that Morgana's suffering, alongside that of the countless sorcerers that I've been forced to hunt down, was down to the fact that nobody deemed a girl to be worthy enough of the Crown?"
"Partly, yes."
I could not tell for certain what Arthur was thinking or feeling right now. He seemed to have assumed a stoic mask, as his attention turned to Uther. "Would my mother have been worthy of the Crown, if you had died and she had lived? Would she have been capable of ruling Camelot satisfactorily until I came of age?"
A few tears formed in Uther's eyes, but I could not tell if they were truly genuine and remorseful. "Your mother was a strong, beautiful, intelligent woman, and I have no doubt that, had things gone differently, she would have been both an excellent Queen and mother until you were ready to assume the throne."
Arthur nodded once, eyes stormy and expression cold, evidently resolving himself to a course of action.
"Merlin," he addressed me directly. "I assume that you are still willing to go through with our plan, and bring my mother back."
"Yes," I said simply.
"Good. Although, I have one amendment which needs to be made to it."
I frowned. "Which is?"
"You will not be sacrificing your own life to do so." Arthur pointed his sword at Uther once more. "You'll be sacrificing his."
