"You have been found guilty of sorcery. Burn him at the stake."
Merlin rolled his eyes.
Uther puffed with indignation.
"Now!"
The frightened guards scurried out to the courtyard, attempting to drag Merlin behind them. They barely made it out of the throne room before Merlin huffed, pulled his arms free, and strode down to the pyre, the guards trailing nervously behind him.
Within minutes a large group of people were huddled around the pyre, tearful and clutching handkerchiefs.
Arthur stood on the balcony, distinctly not tearful.
Uther lowered his arm slowly and dramatically.
The fire was lit.
Nothing happened. The fire was spreading, reaching Merlin, and nothing was happening.
Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and the fire receded.
Feeling contrary and dramatic, he yelled, "Long live King Arthur," before he vanished in a whirl of smoke.
Uther swelled like a bull frog. This was his Kingdom.