Merlin froze where he stood, each muscle in his body tensing in fearful anticipation, his heart hammering in his chest like a trapped bird and his pulse throbbing loudly behind his ears. He close his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, before slowly, very slowly, turning on the spot to face the very man he'd been running from for months. "Uther." Merlin said coldly, making no attempt to hide his disgust for the man. But behind the hard, cold mask he wore, the slightest shred of fear could be detected. Before his father could do anything, Arthur took a quick step in front of Merlin, placing himself firmly between his father and his friend. His face was cold as ice and his eyes flashed with steel behind their clear blue irises. His contempt for his father was matched only by that of his father for his son's manservant.
"Arthur, what do you think you are doing?" Uther asked coldly, grey eyes boring into him angrily. Despite the depth of his anger however, Uther managed to keep his cool. After all the years of practise, he was a master of the poker face.
"Stopping you from hurting my friend over here!" Arthur replied heatedly, eyes flashing, "What's he done to you?" He demanded angrily.
"Melrin-"
"Er... It's Merlin actually." Merlin interceded, earning himself a glower from Uther and an exasperated eye roll from Arthur. Does he always have to say the wrong thing? Arthur asked himself as the crowd of avidly watching Knights began to titter. Catching Uther's furious expression, Merlin backed off, mumbling quietly as he did so, "Never mind." Arthur quickly bit down on his lip as he suddenly felt the corners of his lips tug up into an involuntary smirk. Fighting the urge to scoff at his manservant's foolishness, Arthur turned back to his father with cold, unyielding eyes as he continued his little speech.
"Merlin," Uther began, in what it appeared Merlin found a much more acceptable manner, "has practised magic in my kingdom. He must-"
"Be punished?" Arthur finished off his father's speech with a bored, weary air. "Yes I've heard this little speech before. What do you do, practise it every night in front of your mirror before bed? Well, I'm sorry to have to be the one to break it to you father, but your words lose their effect slightly after you've heard them at least a dozen times a month." Arthur smirked as his father gasped and spluttered in speechless fury, and a few cheers and jeers could be heard from the back of the crowd. Arthur thought he actually caught a "You tell him sire!" From somewhere off to his left. Behind him, he heard Merlin chuckle.
"How… How dare you!" Uther managed to blurt out as he somewhat recovered his senses. He straightened up in an effort to make himself look taller and more imposing. "I am your father and I demand some respect!"
"Erm… Sorry father but I'm pretty sure you've used that one on me before as well. So sorry to rain on your parade." He heard Morgana snicker from where she was keenly watching the father/son confrontation and could practically feel the reverent, almost worshipful, awe in her eyes boring into his side. He smirked again, slightly vindictively, as it occurred to him how odd it was that the only thing that seemed to be able tear Arthur and his adopted sister away from their constant bickering and force them to unite was their disdain for their King. It was twisted and wrong, but it gave him a strange, savage kind of satisfaction to know that the two people who his father claimed to mean more to him than anyone else in the world, were the two most strongly opposed to his morals. He felt his self-satisfied smirk slide off his face and a sigh slip through his lips as he wondered to himself how his anger towards his father could possibly have reached this point. But he shook the feeling off. He had more important matters on his mind right now. Like the questionable shade of puce that his father's face was turning.
"If you know what is good for you Arthur, you will close your mouth right now." Arthur shook his head sorrowfully as he held back the witty retort that instantly sprung to mind. More important things. He couldn't help but say something though.
"What, are you going to get one of your men to slap me again?" He asked cuttingly, with a voice which could cut ice. "Or are you going to take a swing yourself this time? Maybe that will give you more satisfaction." He allowed the scorn he felt to colour his tone, letting his words ring out, jaded and cynical and bitter. He was getting tired of his father's vague threats and the looming punishments stacking up against him which were no doubt being planned while he spoke. It was time for someone to make a stand against the King. And if that someone had to be him, then so be it.
"Arthur," Uther said in a choked voice, sounding honestly regretful, "I cannot tell you how much I regret that."
"Is that so?" Arthur asked, casting off his father's so-called regret with unrelenting eyes. "And yet, here you are, threatening me again." Uther's face crumpled at the words, but he remained adamant. This had clearly gone far enough. This impossible affection his son held for the manservant was senseless and had to stop. It had to come to an end.
"Let us return to the Castle," Uther said coaxingly, deciding it was best to lull his son into a false sense of security if he wanted to return to the Castle before nightfall. "We could stand here discussing this all day, so we may as well do so in a more private place." He turned to the guards closest to Merlin. "Kindly escort this boy," He held himself back from saying anything worse of the sorcerer, knowing that his son would not approve, "up to the Castle." He frowned as; once again, Arthur set himself in front of the boy, blocking him from harms way.
"I'm sure Merlin knows how to walk father. And he probably needs to stretch his legs." He frowned thoughtfully for a moment, eying Merlin curiously, "He flew here, you see." And he turned on his heel and began to lead the way cheerily to the Castle, whistling a merry tune, leaving his father standing frozen, astounded, Merlin chortling at the Prince's evidently successful attempts to rile up his father, and Gwen and Morgana giggling at his chirpy attitude. "Come on Merlin!" Arthur called breezily over his shoulder, making a show of talking casually to the young man while his father stood gaping at them. "I see you haven't got any faster with all the time off your duties! Come on! Chop chop!" Merlin chuckled again before moving to follow him, before hesitating briefly to thank the dragon in his strange, animal-like language, and then quickly catching up to Arthur, determinately ignoring Uther. Guards and maids alike chattered happily and chortled among themselves on the thankfully not too long trip to the Castle, eying Uther humorously.
…
Uther decided to deal with Cenred first.
His manservant's betrayal was clearly a very painful and touchy subject with Arthur, and it would appear that he was in denial. This being the case, Uther thought he would sentence Cenred first, therefore allowing Arthur even more time (he'd already had months) for the truth of the situation to sink in. So, feeling extremely smug and pleased with himself for his ingenious plan, Uther set about Cenred's trial without so much as a glance towards the servant. He sighed with a sense of great martyrdom. What his son would do without him he didn't know.
"Ah, Cenred," He said smoothly, smirking as the other King was forced to his knees to kneel before him. In his rightful place. Uther thought scornfully to himself. "Having fun?" He leered melodramatically at Cenred, baring his teeth in a feral grin of appreciation for the fact that he had his rival kneeling on the floor before him, forced to take whatever punishments or goading that came his way. He allowed the power to go to his head, glorying in the rush it gave him. He liked power.
"Loads, Uther." Cenred replied conversationally, refusing to lower himself to Uther's spiteful provocations, and attempting to smile friendlily at him. It came out as more of a snarl. "Although your hospitality is somewhat lacking. Tell me, is this usually how you treat your guests?" Scowling at the aggravating words and irritating tone of voice, Uther stepped forward off his throne and begun to advance upon the King. He had never been one for rising above provocation and being the bigger man. Unless of course, the provocation was coming from his son, who seemed to resent the calm, cool approach more than the annoyed, argumentative one. As Uther reached Cenred, he began to circle him slowly, like a predator stalking his prey. Sneering, he began his rehearsed speech (He had dreamed of this day).
"People of Camelot!" He began in the customary style, although if truth be told there were not many of Camelot's people present, their place being taken instead by Knights. "We appear to have a visitor in our castle. Welcome, King Cenred," He put a slight emphasis on the word "King" and allowed an amused smirk to twist his lips, giving the clear impression that he found the thought of Cenred as a King a bit of a joke. Cenred glowered at him from his place on the floor. "To our castle." He gave his arm a little flourish, brandishing it around the room in a cockily proud gesture. "I trust that you-" But as Uther went to say whatever it was that he was going to say, Cenred, who had somehow managed to retrieve his sword from his belt without any of the guard noticing, lunged forward, sharp blade gleaming in hand, and launched himself at Uther.
For a few, terrible, painfully long seconds, it seemed as if he would hit his target, but his actions had another effect; one that no one could have expected.
A dark figure launched itself out of the shadows, eyes flashing with indecision which quickly morphed into determination as he shoved Uther roughly aside. He had just one, brief, agonisingly short second in which to celebrate the safety of his King, breathing out a heavy sigh of relief, before the point of the sword, followed quickly by a few more inches of the rest of the blade, plunged itself into his hip and buried itself in the bone. For a moment, he looked surprised, then he looked slowly down at the sword protruding from his already-bloodied hip, and a strange kind of recognition revealed itself in his eyes. He stared down, half fascinated, half repulsed, at the sword buried in his flesh and the rapidly spreading pool of blood that was quickly soaking his shirt, before he fell down to the floor, as if in slow motion, and onto his back. As his breathing began to pick up in both speed and volume, time seemed to speed up again, and suddenly, people were running at him from every direction. There was one voice that echoed around the room louder than the rest, booming over the heads of the crowd in a pitch raised by panic. As Arthur leapt forwards, horror on his face and terror in his voice, the young man on the floor looked up at him in an oddly surprised expression that seemed too benign to be properly conscious. The one word that Arthur shouted was louder and more terrified than anything that anyone had heard before in the entire course of their lives.
"Merlin!"
Thanks for reading! Please review! Sorry about the cliffie but I'm being kicked off the computer again and honestly I can't think of a way to extend the chapter. Keep reading!