Wow! This chapter, I wasn't sure if I would be able to do it correctly, but I think I did. Oooh, yesterday was the one month anniversary of the day I posted my first chapter of my first story on this site, in fact, it was this very same story. I wanted to get this up in time for that but it wasn't quite possible. Anyway, for the readers of my other Merlin fic, yes, I do have part of the next chapter written so it should be up soon.
Warning: Possible creepy and bothersome things in this chapter. But no worries, nothing any of my characters say in this is anyway referring to rape, nothing, just thought you should know.
Uther was stunned at the way he son had spoken to him. At first he had felt angry, but then as Arthur's words sunk in he felt slightly ashamed of the assumption he had made.
But how could he have known? Though he expected his knights and those who had sworn an oath to him to protect Camelot and its secrets with their lives, he didn't really expect them to stand up to torture.
He did expect them to resist it as long as they could, but he meant what he had said to his son; everyone has their limits, their breaking points. He knew that, given enough time, everyone would talk. So even though he would tell those loyal to him that he needed them to never betray Camelot for any reason he knew that should they break, he wouldn't blame them. He couldn't, it just wouldn't be fair, because, as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that even he had his limits.
He just hadn't even imagined that a simple servant would be able to withstand torture. He knew without a doubt that all of Arthur's previous servants would have broken before the pain had even begun, but perhaps this one was different. In fact, he knew he was different, he had saved Arthur from a sorceress, after all, that's why he had giving him that position; so that he could continue saving Arthur.
Not that he thought his son needed much protection, no, Uther considered Arthur to be more than capable of protecting himself. But he was only one man and sometimes one man can't do everything.
So he had thought that he would rather have a servant quick-minded enough to act if necessary, than a weakling that was too afraid to do much more than cower for his son's manservant.
He had known that the boy's courage came with a down side. Oh yes, he had been all too aware of some of that boy's problems. He knew that he was often late and even a bit disrespectful in his service to Arthur, and he was uncomfortably aware of the "almost friendship" that the two had. It was painfully obvious when Arthur had disobeyed him and gone on that stupid quest to save the servant's life.
But now in retrospect he felt that perhaps the relationship between his son and his new servant was a good thing. If Arthur didn't care about whether or not the boy lived then maybe…Merlin wouldn't be as inclined to save his master's life. So though the two were a bit closer than is proper perhaps, just perhaps, it may end up being a good thing.
But he needed to find out for sure. He didn't doubt that his son had gone straight to the physician's chambers—hopefully he got his head checked while he was there; Uther had been a bit frightened when he had noticed the blood—but it he had been staring out the window at Camelot for a good thirty minutes or so and didn't think that Arthur would still be there. So he made his way to Gaius' quarters. He needed to understand what had happened.
He knew that he wouldn't scold Arthur too badly for his outburst earlier due to what he had seen and gone through. When he had noticed the blood streaked down his son's temple he had realized that maybe the loss of temper was caused by more than just anger. Arthur had been through a lot and Uther didn't think that giving him hard a time for this was really what the young man needed right now. Plus, perhaps he was right about his servant; maybe he shouldn't have jumped to those conclusions.
When he strode regally into the chambers he immediately saw two very concerned looking people attending to a young boy who seemed to be unconscious. Then with a jolt he realized that the boy was Arthur's manservant, he just didn't recognize him.
He was lying on a bed and was shirtless and looked altogether small. And though Uther made it a point to never let the plight of anyone touch his heart too much he had to admit that seeing someone he had always considered an innocent looking so thin and, well, dead was a bit painful for him. Despite what most people thought Uther didn't just block out all his normal human emotions. Seeing an innocent hurt or harmed at all did bother him.
The two people; Gaius and the girl he believed to be Morgana's maid, seemed to be just finishing wrapping the boy's back in bandages, but he could still see a hint of what lay underneath.
The two spun around at looked at him in shock; obviously they hadn't expected the king to enter the room anytime soon.
"Sire," Gaius said after he had recovered from his surprise, "is there anything that I may do for you?"
Uther knew that what he was about to ask would seem strange, but he had to get some answers, he was the king after all; he really didn't need to care what anyone thought of his behavior. "No, I don't need anything right now, Gaius; I simply wish to know how the boy is doing."
Gaius, for his part, was dumbfounded that the king had come to ask that, and he was more than a little pained at having to repeat it again. "He's…he's not doing well, sire, I believe that he may not survive very long."
Once again Uther didn't let any emotions show, but inwardly he was sad for his longtime friend; he knew how much he had already come to love his ward. He looked at the pale boy, whose breathing seemed to be nonexistent, and was beginning to understand the way he son had spoken to him. But, unfortunately for his friend Gaius, he needed a bit more information.
"What is wrong with him? What injuries does he have?" No emotion.
The pain on Gaius' face almost made Uther want to take it back. Almost. "He's been tortured pretty badly, sire. From what I've been able to tell he was whipped quite severely and then not tended to. The boy didn't eat as much as he should've to begin with, and now I fear that his body simply can't heal itself."
Uther stared at the shallowly breathing boy and wondered what had happened in his life to allow him to resist that. Oh, he knew without a doubt that there were worse tortures out there and that the boy's hadn't even scratched the surface of them. But he was just that; a boy, so how had he been able to do it?
Uther simply nodded and then left, giving no explanation as to why he had come in the first place. So now he had some of his answers; Arthur had been right to defend the boy, for surely if he was dying then the torture must have been even worse than Gaius had described, and Uther believed firmly in giving honor to those who have earned it.
Now he wanted to find that other half of the answers he wanted, some of which weren't entirely connected to his son's anger.
So that was why he now made his way to the dungeon's; to get the rest of his answers.
Arcturus had always been fascinated by death, had always wondered what it was like, what happened after it. He had known; or rather felt that his own death was coming soon for a long time now. So when he woke up and found himself to be in a cell he didn't recognize he was pretty sure that he wasn't far away from finding out all he wanted to know about death.
He knew that he hadn't always been this sadistic, but after he had lived through the Great Purge, albeit he had been just a boy at the time, and had watched so many people die he had realized that death is natural; a part of life. But though it was a natural thing Arcturus knew that it wasn't something that you tried to take control of.
He believed that death was a force of its own, not something that man could summon at will. And so above all reasons he hates Uther Pendragon most for his attempt at controlling death.
So when he heard the ominous footsteps approaching him he was glad rather than afraid. He knew all that was going to happen to him and what pain he would go through and he was pleased. He knew that Uther always kills sorcerers, there's never any room for doubt on that, but this time he knew would be a bit different. This time death would come when it was supposed to, which is when it becomes a gift.
Uther came and stepped into the tiny little cell that Arcturus was occupying for only a little while and they both, almost as one, smiled.
Uther, for one, was disturbed that a man who would soon die would smile at the man who was sentencing him. But he wouldn't let it get to him.
"So," the king said in a way that would have been intimidating to most people, "you are the man who captured my son." It wasn't a question.
But Arcturus answered it anyway. "Yes, I am. I am also the one who tortured his servant and planned on torturing him." He smiled again. It was unnerving; he was just sitting on the filthy floor and was looking up at Uther, yet the king felt more intimidated than the sorcerer.
Since waking up here Arcturus hadn't even gotten up once, hadn't even moved. Nor had he tried to use his magic for he knew that the potion which fuzzes a sorcerer's brain and makes him unable to use his magic would have been administered to him as well. Only an incredibly strong sorcerer would be able to use his or her magic after being given that drug. And even then they could be stopped simply with a higher dose.
He didn't exactly know what had happened. The last he remembered he had hit the prince on the head with a club, pretty hard too, and then had turned around and had seen a beautiful light that had engulfed him. The light had seemed to be made of all the colors in the world, and even some that he had never seen before. He knew that whatever that light had done it had to have been extremely powerful.
And then he had been in a completely different cell. And though the answer to what had happened still nagged at him he believed that he would never find out the truth in this lifetime. And that was okay.
"So, you admit it then? You confess that you kidnapped the future king in the hopes of torturing him for Camelot's secrets and then selling those secrets to this kingdom's enemies?" Uther asked; his voice stone cold with only a hint of surprise in it.
"Of course I confess to it," Arcturus said, still sitting on the floor and looking up at him like a little child listening to a parent telling a story. To someone outside watching the scene unfold it might have been funny.
"Well then, will you also tell me whom you planned on selling those secrets to and where they live?" It wasn't really a request.
The sorcerer looked up at him with a ghost of the sadistic gleam in his eyes. He smiled a smile that was filled with cruelty and madness. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you that. I must first confess my other secrets."
Uther tensed slightly, more secrets? But why was he telling him that? Did he think that he would get out of his execution by helping him? Something didn't feel right to him.
"And what are those?" he asked warily.
"The things I know that will come to pass. Actually, the things that I have guessed. When I originally decided to capture your precious little Artie I planned on selling the information I gleaned from him, it's true, but now I believe my involvement in his life will have a different impact that I expected. And that's okay.
"I hoped to break him, to shatter him completely and utterly. But I see now that I will never get that chance. But I did have an effect on him, even though I barely hurt him at all. Physically. I think you know as well as I do, Uther, that that kind of trauma, that fear, that overwhelming weakness does something to a person. But what that something is, is entirely up to them.
"You know what I mean, how many people have you killed? How many have you tortured? Perhaps it may not always have been from your own hands, but the order came from your own lips. The pain you have inflicted, the screams that you have caused. And yet, somehow I think that you don't quite relish it as much as I do.
"Oh, I don't doubt that there have been some that you have enjoyed, for some people you smiled as you watched them burn. But overall I think that you do it out of some sort of misguided feeling that it is right; that it is necessary. But you don't take pleasure in it. I bet that most of the time you feel nothing at all.
"Me, on the other hand, I have a whole lot of fun with it. I've made it a point in my life to only do what I want to. And I only want to do things that are fun! But for you it is such a waste! I really did enjoy torturing that poor servant, and he even proved to be an interesting challenge. And I am truly sorry that I didn't get a chance to try my hand at breaking your son, because I do believe that he would have been just as entertaining."
Uther was more than a little angry by now; this man was insane and had a way of getting under his skin when it should have been the other way around. And the way he talked so flippantly about harming his son…
He leaned in close to the madman and spoke to him, his voice dripping with rage. "Well, you know what? I am going to enjoy your torture, your execution. And when you scream I will smile like I never have before. Out of all the magical filth I've come across you are one of the most twisted and vile." He went back to towering over him.
Arcturus didn't even blink an eye at the cold and cruel words. "Yes, you know full well what happens to a person. Your son is going to have to decide. Some people when faced with such fear and vulnerability become skittish and fearful of everything. They become far too aware of their own mortality and from then on are ridiculously cautious. Others wish to do to whoever they can what nearly happened to them. So, in a way, I suppose I pass on my legacy to them. They become sadistic monsters.
"And then some, some come away from this with a newfound believe or idea about themselves. Some actually learn something; they learn…what matters most to them…they learn what kind of a person they are. I wonder what kind of a man your son is. I am not a seer; I cannot see the future, I merely know people and how they think and act. I see the patterns they go through, the ideas that cross their minds, the beliefs that they mold and form. I don't know what will be, but I can guess.
"I believe your son may be finding out right now what kind of a man he is. What kind of a ruler he will be. Don't you wonder Uther, what thoughts and feelings are plaguing his mind? What hidden knowledge and painful revelations are making themselves known to him? What new fears and doubts are there that weren't there before? People always fear for that which matters most to them.
"So though, Uther, I may not have intended to be captured, or for your son to live, for his body to remain unscarred, I believe that my unintentional Plan B is working quite well. From now on whatever revelation Arthur comes to will affect the rest of his life. Slowly the fear that he experienced will change him, will make him into a different person. This encounter with me will change his life in ways that even I, a man who has no ties to the world which allows me to see so clearly, cannot foretell.
"The kind of king he will become will be shaped, though, perhaps not entirely, by his meeting with me. A man cannot go through such fear and danger without learning about himself along the way. Whatever is most precious to him he will from now on protect with his life and whatever else he has. Whether that be his pride, or well-being, or his own power and dominance over others, or his friends.
"But that all will be decided by what kind of person he is inside. I could have created a monster worse than even you, or I might've made a kind and gentle soul. Pray that you raised him well, Uther, for who this experience changes him into may very well rest on the kind of influences he has had in his life. The people in his life.
"I do not know what his fate will be. But I do not have to be able to tell the future to know without a doubt what yours will be. You will die alone, perhaps not physically; there may be some who mourn your death, but in your soul and in your mind you will be alone. Your son has the potential to be either very loved or very hated, but he shall be one or the other. But when you die you shall have a few that mourn you, and a few that will celebrate your end, but most will not care. They will be indifferent; they will look you over and turn their gaze to Arthur without so much as thinking your name.
"When you die you will be alone, in your heart, body, soul, mind, and spirit, because you did not allow yourself to care for anyone. That's what your trauma did to you; you simply forgot how to properly love. In the end you will die sad and frightened because you pushed everyone who would care for you away. And that…that is truly a sad fate."
Arcturus stared unblinking and emotionlessly into Uther's eyes. The king paused for a moment; stunned at the knowledge he had been given. Then slapped the man, the sorcerer, the vile filth as hard as he could and sent him sprawling. Then he turned and strode swiftly out, but stopped to talk to a man he had brought with him and had told to wait outside.
"Do whatever it takes to make him talk," Uther said with enough anger and malice in his tone to scare anyone. "I don't want to hear his screams stop until the names of who he was helping start."
It wasn't until he reached the staircase and began ascending it that he heard the first pain-filled scream, and yet, despite what he had promised, he did not smile. In fact, all he felt was fear; fear of his fate. A fate he could not change.
I know, I was mean to Uther, but I was trying to set up for things that happen later in the tv series. I personally believe that that is what will happen to him, for the most part. I don't hate Uther but he makes a lot of mistakes and that this will be the price of them. I think that after everything that happens with Morgana this is basically how he is going to feel; betrayed and alone.
Please review and tell me what you think, and if you say that I should never write long Uther bits again then I will try to heed that advice.