A/N: Thank you so so much to everyone that read, favourited/followed or reviewed!

Arthur was five when he had the first nightmare.

The snake had been a vivid red colour with glowing eyes that could barely be seen through the tall grass it was hiding in. A soft hiss escaped its mouth as the sound of hoof beats reached its ears. The snake coiled, ready to strike, when Lord Aylwin and his wife, the Lady Lorelle appeared on the edge of the forest. Lord Aylwin was laughing heartily at the latest adventure of their three-year old that his wife was recounting for him, when he rode past the snake. Lady Lorelle was riding right behind him and still smiling when she came within striking distance, and the snake struck quick as lightning; it's mouth opening impossibly wide – fangs bared – it enveloped her leg in its mouth and bit down so hard that blood sprayed and bones crunched.

The horse reared, panicking at the sight of the snake that had appeared out of nowhere. Its shrill whinnying made Lord Aylwin instantly turn his horse around just in time to see his beloved wife falling off her horse, and something red darting away through the grass. He jumped off his own horse without his usual grace and ran towards Lorelle almost before his feet had hit the ground. Upon reaching her, he glanced at her leg that had been nearly severed, and shaking his head in disbelief he fell to his knees and gently placed her head in his lap. He stroked her long black hair away from her face, stubbornly ignoring how the veins in her neck had already turned green.

Her lavender dress that had been ruined by blood, dirt, and grass, and Aylwin felt a hysteric laugh building up inside him as he took it all in. This was all wrong. So incredibly wrong. It was he who was the knight. He who had been in countless battles, he who had killed enough for his soul to never be clean again, he who should be dead and still… still it was not him, but it was his wife that was lying in front of him, dying the early death that he had always imagined would be his fate.

"Please don't leave me," he whispered.

She opened her eyes and tried to say something, but before even a word had left her lips she stiffened, her eyes glazing over as life left her.

As the vision faded a voice that sounded just like the snake had it been human, hissed, "Witness young Pendragon."

He woke up screaming, the words still ringing in his ears. His eyes darted around the dark room frantically, and it felt like his tiny heart was about to beat its way through his chest. He opened his mouth to scream again, when the door to the antechamber was flung open and his nurse ran in with a dagger in hand. At the same moment the two guards positioned outside his room also barrelled in, swords at the ready.

Tana seemed to understand what had happened first. "He had a nightmare," she told the guards briskly, "I will see to the young prince. You may take your leave."

Taking one last look in the room, the guards departed, shutting the door behind them.

During all this Arthur hadn't moved at all. He sat petrified on his bed, breath heaving, and watched as Tana came over to him. The dagger, he noted dimly, was gone.

She sat down close to him on the bed and without a word she reached out her arms and hugged him so hard he could feel how fast her heart was beating. She put her chin on his head and started to rock him while she murmured, "Hush my child. It was a dream, nothing more. It cannot hurt you, you are safe now."

Arthur wrapped his arms around her thin frame, shaking from the sheer terror the nightmare had induced. He pressed his nose into her rough clothes, taking in the familiar smell of her and finally letting the tears fall. He wept in the arms of the woman that had done everything for him, and loved him unconditionally. The woman that wasn't his mother.

He remembered how furious his father had been when Arthur had called her 'mother' in front of the court. The young prince had gotten it thoroughly explained to him later.

"She is a nurse that is doing her job. She gets paid to take care of you because you are the prince, but she is not, nor will she ever be your mother. Your mother was a woman of noble blood and I will not have you insult her memory by calling that servant your mother. Is that understood?"

Even when he was so little, Arthur had only ever wanted to please his father. "Yes."

Uther kept looking at him. "Yes…"

"Yes, father."

Some of the sternness left his face. "Good." He patted Arthur on the shoulder once and turned away to more serious matters.

Arthur had never made that mistake again, but how could he not when she was holding him just like a mother did her own children? When she sat there stroking his hair and never once complained even as the sky outside turned from inky black to the dull grey of early morning? How could he help it when even after all these hours of comforting him, when he looked upon her face it held nothing but love and compassion for him?

That was when Arthur whispered it to her. "I love you mother."

And her smile had been brilliant, tears shining in her eyes as she kissed his forehead. "And I you, my son."

The nightmare forgotten, he finally fell asleep, safe in his mother's embrace.

Even the following morning Arthur's happiness hadn't faded, but he tried to keep his features calm as he dined with his father. It was the only time Uther sat aside solely for his son and so Arthur both looked forward to and dreaded the time when he had his father's complete attention. His father was a mighty figure and being the only one in a room with him – not counting the servants – was always demanding.

"How fare your lessons?"

"I managed to conjugate all the Latin verbs and Geoffrey said that my reading and penmanship is improving at a steady rate, father." What he didn't mention was how he'd seen other children his age playing outside while he'd been studying. Arthur might've been young but he understood that he was the prince, and as such more was expected of him.

His father nodded, pleased with the answer. "And did you enjoy your first riding lesson?"

Arthur sat a little straighter at that and immediately had to suppress a yelp. He had been eager to finally be allowed to ride a horse, but no one had told him how uncomfortable the unfamiliar motion of the horse would be, or how sore he'd get afterwards. He opened his mouth to answer when a knock at the door interrupted him.

Uther was proud of his son, there was no denying that. He only wished that he could tell Arthur that, but even as it broke his heart, he knew he had to distance himself to make Arthur stronger. He observed his son and had to suppress a smile at the way the boy was shifting in his chair, obviously sore. He remembered how he himself had been wincing and complaining after his first riding session, but Arthur kept his composure, and seeing how strong-willed and determined his son had already become at such a tender age, Uther felt his light mood evaporating.

Blasted magic. It had taken Ygraine from them and the kingdom had suffered greatly ever since. She had been a woman of noble birth of course, but she had also been fair and just, which had made her a worthy queen. And he had loved her.

Even now thinking about her in the past tense hurt, and he wondered if he would ever heal, or if the hurt her passing had caused would stay with him forever, reminding him of his mistake. With Ygraine's death and Arthur as his only son and heir it had forced too many responsibilities on his son's too small shoulders.

A knock at the door interrupted his musings.

"Sire, Lord Aylwin is asking to see you. He says it's urgent," one of the guards said.

"Send him in at once. You, nurse, take Arthur back to his chambers. The rest of you, leave."

Lord Aylwin strode in just as Arthur was leaving with the servants, and he noticed how Arthur flinched at the lord's appearance. Uther frowned as his second-in-command came closer and he could finally see the blood and dirt that stained his clothes. It must be truly important if Aylwin had had to engage in battle himself and then hadn't even cleaned himself before coming to deliver his message. Uther mentally prepared himself for the important news when he noticed the expression on his friends face.

They had known each other before Uther had become king and he had watched as his friend had hardened through the years, every battle stripping more of the man away, hardening him. They had often been in battle together so his appearance wasn't that alarming a sight to Uther. No, what worried him the most was that he had never seen his friend look like this before. He looked like Uther had looked after the death of… Oh.

"Lorelle?" he asked, even though he didn't want to hear the answer.

Aylwin looked away, his rigid posture softening as he finally let the grief show. Uther stood frozen for a heartbeat unsure of what to do, but then he stepped forward and put a hand on his friend's shoulder.

And Aylwin shook it off.

"No more," he whispered brokenly. "I'm done killing for you, my liege." His voice gaining strength he turned back towards Uther. "I was with you when no one else believed in you. I never once questioned you because I never had to. I believed in what you did, for it was all just, but it is no more. Where is the man that understood the power of showing mercy? The man that understood that sometimes yielding was a sign of who was the stronger, the better man? You have changed, Uther and still I have always been at your side, because I understood why you did it."

For once in his life Uther had nothing to say at all. He was standing there in his royal attire and looking nothing like a king, only the shell of the broken man that was left. "It grieves me that you never told me how you felt, old friend."

"I never should have had to say it!" Aylwin shouted, finally losing his cool. "This war against magic isn't benefiting anyone can't you see that? You are tearing families apart, Uther and it is in turn tearing ours." He stepped closer, "Tell me, my Lord, has all this killing brought her back?"

He continued, more subdued now, "You have become cruel, Uther, the very embodiment of what you seek to destroy, and I will not let it destroy me and mine."

"I am your king and you have no right to speak to me like that!" the king bellowed, any sign of sorrow gone from his face. "You speak treason, Aylwin and I will forgive you just this once, because I understand that you're not thinking clearly at the moment. Do not expect to be forgiven a second time."

"I will never need to ask your forgiveness again, Sire, because I'm taking my son with me and leaving this kingdom after Lorelle's-" his breath hitched, "-burial." He observed the man in front of him that was so full of hate that he couldn't see what he'd become. "I finally understand your sorrow, Uther. But I no longer understand you."

Uther watched as his oldest and most loyal friend turned around and left him. Because of magic. He closed his eyes as his heart hardened, never to soften again.

The next day, Uther executed the first child.