"I know it's you, Father. Why are you doing this?"
Arthur's face hardly showed the mix of angst and rage he felt about his father's actions, though his eyes betrayed the emotion as they often did. He stepped closer to the throne, heart aching at what his father had become.
"I did not spend my entire life building this kingdom to see my own son destroy it," Uther spat back, lifting his head to look at Arthur with dead eyes.
"You tried to kill Hermione," Arthur accused, ignoring Uther's harsh words.
"For your own good," Uther replied coldly. "A sorceress does not derserve to be Queen!"
"Hermione is wise, and strong, and I trust her more than anyone," Arthur shot back proudly, clenching his jaw.
"And that is your weakness," Uther shook his head in disappointment. "You put too much trust in other people. You, and you alone must rule Camelot."
"I would rather not rule at all, than rule alone," Arthur stated in an icy voice.
"Your whole life, I tried to prepare you for the day you would become King," Uther said in disbelief, getting up from the throne. Arthur shifted slightly. "Did you learn nothing?"
"I watched you rule, and I learnt that if you trust no one, you will always live in fear," Arthur said bitterly. "Your hatred came from fear, not strength."
"How dare you!" Uther roared in outrage, face contorting in anger.
"I loved, and respected you," Arthur continued, all of the pent up feelings pouring into his words. "But I have to rule the Kingdom in my own way. I have to do what I believe to be right."
"I will not allow you destroy all that I built," Uther said in a quieter voice, eyes dark and wicked. Arthur bowed his head slightly, expecting no other response.
"Then you will have to kill me," Arthur answered flatly. "I am not you, Father. I can't rule the way you did."
"Camelot must come before all else," Uther replied calmly, arm moving slightly. "Even you."
In a flash, the deceased ruler had raised his arm and prompted a shield to fly off the wall and go straight for Arthur's head. He was out the second it made contact with his skull, and he fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. A satisfied look grew on Uther's shadowy face and he approached Arthur's body, going to do who knew what, when Merlin entered the room.
"Get away from him, Uther!" the manservant ordered angrily. "You've caused enough harm. You don't belong here. You must return to the other world."
"This is MY kingdom!" Uther responded harshly, as deeply insulted by a servant giving him orders in the afterlife as he would have been when alive. "You think you can drive me from it? You are nothing but a serving boy!"
"I am much more than that," Merlin told Uther quietly, eyes smouldering in the dim room.
In his rage he commanded a wooden bench to be hurled at Merlin. The well-trained warlock stopped the bench with the flick of his hand and it reversed to smash into the stone wall. Even Uther could see the glow of Merlin's eyes in the dark.
"You have magic?" Uther questioned dumbly, stunned.
"I was born with it!" Merlin replied loudly, nostrils flaring and head held high.
"I made you Arthur's servant," Uther whispered in horror. "You are a sorcerer?"
"Even while you were King, there was magic at the heart of Camelot," Merlin retaliated almost smugly. Uther's initial shock faded and his insidious agenda returned.
"I will not allow you and your kind to poison my kingdom," he snarled.
"You're wrong," Merlin shook his head. "You're wrong. About so much. Arthur is a better, and more worthy King than you ever were."
Insane with rage, Uther went to attack Merlin, but again the sorcerer was too quick. With a quick, efficient spell Uther was thrown through the doors out of the chambers.
"NO!" Uther's scream faded as he disappeared.
Merlin waited for Uther to return but the spirit was gone. Curious, Merlin went to search the corridor, first creating light.
"Bael onbryne!" he recited, a flame springing up in the palm of his hand as he cautiously left to walk around and search. He found himself in the armoury once more, no sign of Uther anywhere. He wondered if the simple stunning spell had really gotten rid of the spirit... But surely it would take more than that?
As Merlin was thinking about it, two spears came whizzing at him, pointy and long. Distracted, he wasn't fast enough to stop them and the sharp tips pinned him to the wall by his clothes. Merlin struggled to get out of their hold, but they were held fast in the wall. His breathing became quick and ragged as he realized the precarious situation he was in. Uther came round the corner into view, calm and cold, a sword in his ghostly hands.
"It will give me great pleasure killing you," Uther hissed inhumanly, getting closer and closer. Merlin had run out of ideas, and it seemed his last moments were near when-
"Father!"
Uther dropped the sword when he looked over and saw the Horn in Arthur's hand. Tears filled his son's eyes and he had drawn himself up to his full height.
"Arthur! No!" Uther begged. "Please. Whatever I have done, I have done for Camelot!"
Arthur's expression flickered, and he swallowed hard. Merlin waited to see what Arthur would do, hoping he would make the right decision.
The Once and Future King took a deep breath and said, "You've had your turn. Now it's mine." He raised the Horn of Cathbhadh to his lips, and Uther blurted, "Merlin ha-"
But the Horn emitted it's deep, musical sound and Uther faded away, back to the Spirit World. Merlin slumped slightly, releasing a relieved breath. Arthur wiped a tear threatening to spill out of his eye and went to help Merlin.
Arthur stood and waited as Merlin grabbed some of his armour to put on him. Everything was calm and bright. Uther was gone, and Hermione was recovering well from the fire incident. Arthur suddenly looked at Merlin and spoke.
"I always looked up to my father. I admired and respected him more than anyone. I have to accept that I can't please him, and be true to myself."
"Uther did what he thought he had to do to protect the Kingdom," Merlin replied warily. "That doesn't mean he was right."
"I want to build a kingdom that is fair and just," Arthur said, suddenly inspired. "One where everyone is respected, regardless of rank."
"Does that include me?" Merlin questioned innocently.
"Of course," Arthur smiled.
"So, does that mean you're not going to hit me anymore?" Merlin shot back quickly. Arthur's good-nature disappeared and he went slightly shameful and amused.
"When do I ever hit you?" Arthur laughed, turning away.
"All the time!" Merlin said in loud impatience, eyebrows up in disbelief.
"That's not hitting, Merlin," Arthur denied, looking for the right words. "That's merely friendly slaps. It's horseplay."
"So, can I give you a friendly slap?" Merlin asked sarcastically.
"You can certainly try," Arthur chuckled, looking down at his armour and adjusting it a little. Merlin turned away to pick up Arthur's gloves, shaking his head, when a lightbulb went off in his head. A wicked glint was in his eye as he whirled around and smacked the back of Arthur's blonde head with the gloves. As soon as he'd done it, Merlin knew he was in for huge trouble. He pressed his lips together to stop from smiling and held the gloves behind his back guiltily. Arthur's head rose slightly and he very slowly revolved. He was half angry, half stunned.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded.
"It was, um... horseplay," Merlin shrugged, cheeks red. Arthur relaxed, to Merlin's amazement, and took the gloves from his sweaty palms.
"No, Merlin, you're doing it all wrong," Arthur turned away slightly, pulling them on and clenching one fist tightly. The material of his glove made a squeaky sound when his fingers clenched and Merlin froze.
"Why don't I show you?" Arthur asked, still grinning.
"I'm glad you're doing better, My Queen," Gwen said cheerfully, plumping Hermione's pillows as the Queen carefully sat up.
"So am I," Hermione admitted, mind going back on her and Arthur's conversation. He'd told her everything since he'd felt too guilty about not telling her from the beginning... which, of course, only made Hermione feel like even more of a horrible wife for the secret she'd been keeping for so long. She had to tell him soon. It was decided.
"Here, you must take Gaius's prescription," Gwen told Hermione, handing her the vial. The witch made a face, but then a large cough erupted from her mouth and she went to gulp it all down. As she was bringing the vial to her lips she saw it again. A little grain like the one on her goblet those days ago.
"What's this?" she asked, a frown on her face and lips pursed.
"My Queen?" Gwen turned around from her work and looked. She caught sight of the grain and her face grew warm.
"Oh, I'm sorry, let me wipe it off.."
Hermione used her finger to get rid of it and then drank her medicine. "I saw the same little speck on my goblet a few days ago. It's almost like salt..."
"I'm sure that's all it is," Gwen assured Hermione calmly, panicking on the inside. She bowed once and hurriedly left the Royal Chambers, reaching into her pocket to examine the salt-like grains in the small glass bottle in her hand. There was only a few servings left.
'You'll need to put two pinches in her drinks every day, every time she has something to drink,' Morgana instructed Gwen carefully. 'Any liquid she downs will work for these. I've enchanted them with the proper spell already. The grains will dissolve in her drink, leaving no trace, and when she consumes them..."
Morgana smiled and tilted her head at Gwen, who was attentive as ever.
'Well, the magic will drain a little life from her every time the grains enter her body,' Morgana continued. 'It won't take long for the magic to successfully weaken her to a point where she's practically on her deathbed. I've put just enough in the glass to do the trick. Once it's empty, she should be incredibly weak, too weak to perform magic, anyway.'
'But what if someone tries to heal her?' Gwen asked quickly. 'You must know Arthur will do anything to save her life. He would go so far as to use magic to make her better.'
Morgana gave Gwen a slight glare, insulted that Gwen would even imagine she would never think of a solution to that problem.
'Of course I'm aware Arthur cares deeply for her, deeply enough to turn hypocrite like Uther,' she hissed. But then she calmed and her icy eyes brightened as she smiled smugly. 'And so, I went to great lengths to insure that he was unable to do so. I weaved a reversal spell in them, so if anyone attempts to use magic to cure her, the sickness will only get much, much worse. She will be certain to die within a day.'
Gwen nodded, grasping the plan completely, and stowed the vial in her pocket. The idea of death made her a little uneasy- but hadn't it been the fault of Camelot for her own father's death? Nothing had been done in penance for killing an innocent man, and she was sure her father had not been the first. Hermione was actually guilty of multiple things. Morgana certainly had the guts to follow through with this, and it was Gwen's duty to loyally assist her and remove the hypocrisy from the kingdom.
'Do not fail me, Gwen,' Morgana warned as her henchwoman was about to walk out the door.
'I shan't fail you.'
