Sorry I've kept you all waiting. :( It's been essay after essay after novel and Course books to read for ages now; barely had time to write. So here this is. It's terrible and I think it's been slightly rushed, no matter what I do to alter it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed and/or added this to their story alerts! I love it, thanks! xD

For the next two days it was much the same and Gaius had finally decided that all that was wrong was a fever and had been forcing horrid looking concoctions down his throat while Arthur choked on them in his sleep. Uther, though not thoroughly convinced had finally reasoned that him being around wasn't going to amend the situation and had retreated to his rooms on the proviso he was informed the minuet there was any change. So it was at this moment in time that he was sat beside the fire grate, his head resting wearily against his hand as he sat awkwardly in the high-backed chair awaiting the much needed relief of some answers. This past week had resulted in now regular assaults of memories he'd wished would melt away. He knew he'd never made a good father, knew Arthur had skulked around in his shadow hoping to impress him and he'd never given him any sign that he ever had. He'd treated him like a servant, just another Knight he had to train. He remembered a five year old Arthur, wooden replica of a sword in hand, swinging wildly at a full grown Knight, Uther sat on the sidelines watching in amusement and the nurse beside him gasping and yelping every time Arthur fell or suffered a blow.

He remembered worst off all Arthur's terrified expression the first time he had witnessed death and instead of giving him the comfort he'd needed most, Uther had snapped at him and pushed him away.

The dusk was creating a mild drop in temperature and Arthur was shivering beside him; his red jacket and black scarf doing nothing to prevent the chill. His blond locks were all over the place, covering his blue eyes and then being promptly blown away by another harsh blast of wind. He was only six years old, he was smaller than most boys his age and his cheeks were rosy from the cold, in Uther's opinion he looked the farthest thing from a fearsome King that he would someday have to be. His hands were wrapped around the thick stone of the balcony as he watched with wide eyes as the accused sorcerer was brought to the stage and thrust to his knees with a hard knock to his back.

Uther had looked down at him with cool eyes, waiting for the reaction he hoped would scare any childishness out of him.

"This man has beseeched the laws of Camelot and has used magic to go against the natural ways of our Kingdom. For this he must be punished and Sorcery is punishable by death. Let this serve as a warning to others."

He waved his hand stiffly then, he grit his teeth, eyes focussed on Arthur who was still staring with the look of all naïve children. Seemingly unaware of what was about to happen. He heard the axe drop but even if he hadn't, he'd have known that the servant was dead.

Arthur's mouth had dropped open to form a perfect 'O', his eyes forming a similar pose. He let out a gasp and then a whimper and behind him a fretting nurse had run forward and stooped beside him, dragging his delicate eyes away from the bloody sight below.

"Leave him. He must learn." Uther commanded and gripped the child by the shoulder, away from the woman who was now staring in shock at Uther, her hands falling from the young Prince.

"This is what we must do to protect ourselves. Do you understand?"

Arthur had shook his head so violently, Uther had feared it would drop off of his neck.

"Magic is evil, it can not exist. This is not the last death you'll see." And with that, the King had pushed Arthur away who had promptly spun toward his plump nurse and had thrown his arms up, she embraced him, picked him up swiftly and moved with the speed and agility a woman of her body should not have managed so easily. Her mutterings of: "There, there sweet child." Were not unheard by any of the Royal Guard.

It had been upon passing Arthur's chambers later that night that Uther had any real sense of what he had inflicted on his small son. The doors were open enough for the room to be in plain view, the fire was roaring in its grate and Arthur was stood before it, his nurse was knelt before him. His chest was bare and his small, thin arms up in the air whilst she ran an old wet rag over his arms and torso. He'd make a small childish giggle every time she hit a sensitive area which promptly resulted in her having to hold his arm up with force. Uther allowed himself a smile and just as he was about to carry on a tiny voice caught his ears.

"Was he really magic?"

"I don't know, child."


"Is magic really evil?"

"Yes it is. Magic only does bad things, he wanted to cheat and he used magic to get things that the rest of us must earn."

Uther felt quite proud at that, he'd picked a nurse who would enforce all his own ideals into his impressionable son.

"But why does it only do bad things?"

"Because it's for greedy people who want to have advantage over everyone else." The nurse confirmed and Arthur fell silent then spoke up again, his voice more determined now.

"If he had magic, why did he not use it to get away?"

"I don't know. No more talk like this. Fetch your night-clothes." And the scampering of tiny feet on hard floor could be heard and Uther stepped closer to the door, keeping his son in sight as Arthur grabbed a fist full of bright red material and then turned and ran back to his nurse, who was twisting out water from the rag and then balancing it on the side of the bucket she had been using to wash Arthur down.

"If I had magic, I'd use it to make all the vegetables disappear!" Arthur's childish voice exclaimed and despite the matter of which his son was talking of, he found himself smiling, a bubble of laughter forming and then stopping in this throat.

Igraine, at least would have found this amusing. They would have laughed about it in their chamber, Arthur would be on the bed beside his mother explaining that magic could be used to make distasteful things disappear and his wife would sit, comb his hair and agree while sharing secret smiles with Uther.

"Do not talk of such things, your father would never hear of it!" She snapped and Arthur had the decency to look slightly ashamed.

"If you had magic, would you make the vegetables go too?"

Finally a small smile broke over the plump woman's face, her curly brown hair bounced around her rosy cheeks and she lowered her voice but it still managed to carry to Uther's sharp ears.

"No, I'd use it to make naughty little boys behave." She stuck her tongue out at him before instructing him to lift his arms once more as she pushed his night-shirt over his blond head. Then tapped the back of his legs and he leaned forward into her as she prised away his dirty trousers and discarded them to the side. Arthur stood up again and waited as she rummaged with a clean bucket of water and the rag, before bringing it back down to wash Arthur's lower body.

Uther stepped away, the discussion was over but even as he took the first few steps he was too late to miss the next words out of his son's mouth.

"Nana, I don't want to say goodnight to Father, today."

Clenching his eyes shut and moving away swiftly; not wanting to hear his son being forced into seeing him, Uther made his exit and stepped into his own chambers, not failing to notice the evasive way Arthur stepped in, shuffled around for a bit and clung to his nurse as though she were his life guard. The way he avoided kissing Uther's cheek and instead settling to hang his head and waiting to be told he could leave.

"Sire?" The persistent knocking resembled the steady beat growing in his temples. He allowed a moment to compose himself before straightening in his throne and answering in a slow but still very royal drawl.

"Enter."

"I've been told you inform you that your son's temperature has dropped and that he is expected to wake up soon, if not already."

Uther smiled and stood. "Thank you." The Guard looked stunned a moment, then bowed in respect and stood up.

*

"He'll be weak for a while; he won't be doing any fighting or strenuous activity for some time." Gaius informed him as they stepped into the warm chambers. The door clicked shut but it didn't distract the two boys at the bed.

The room was warm, the fire was high in its grate and something scented assaulted his nostrils but Gaius offered no explanation. The bed was curtained off, the thick red velvet hung covering the occupants from view but their loud voices could still be heard.

"You mean to tell me, you have left me in these close the entire time I was unconscious?" Arthur's voice was cracked and unused but it still held the smallest of contempt for his servant, a sarcastic groan about his entire being.

"No… I changed your shirt."

Arthur didn't answer but evidently he had tried to hit his manservant, for the boy stepped back so far that his shape dented the curtain's, the curve of his back sticking out as he bent over, his laughter clouded the room. Arthur's comments went unheard.

With the air of amusement one should never take with his master, the idiot boy taunted, "Gaius said rest."

"I can't rest when I'm the hands of complete buffoon!" Arthur hissed through his teeth and the bed creaked and groaned as he slipped back down, already tired out from just that.

"Why did you just change my shirt?" Arthur grumbled.

"Well, you fainted so it was dirty." This was followed by silence, then more creaking and a small yelp. Evidently Arthur had sat up and pulled his servant down closer to his eye level.

"I. Did. Not. Faint." Each word was heavily punctuated and Gaius, beside him, chuckled quietly and still the boys did not notice.

"What would you call it then?"

"Well, I fell unconscious…"

"You mean you fainted?"

"Merlin-!" Arthur growled.

As amusing as Gaius seemed to find the banter, Uther had not spent hours wondering what was going on to then stand in a room that smelled like Morgana's perfumed flowers and listen to nonsense.

"Enough." Uther spoke sharply and Merlin's paled, pointed face stuck out from the curtains, he smiled weakly and pushed the drapes apart before bowing his head and stepping away from Arthur.

Arthur was indeed sat up. His blond head was tasselled, he looked sickly pale and thinner than he should have been and his eyes looked tired despite them having been sleeping for the better part of this week.

"You are feeling better, I trust?"

He would have liked nothing better than have moved to hug his son, let him know how pleased he was just to see those eyes finally looking up at him, just to hear his voice then had been a blessing, but instead he stood there, stiff and distant. His heads were behind his back, clasped tightly. Arthur nodded, a small smile flickering over his features for a split second.

"Yeah. Tired."

"Gaius said that was to be expected." Uther answered, he missed Merlin's confused frown and the quizzical look he sent Gaius and the way the physician glared back and shook his head sternly. "As soon as you are feeling up to it, be sure to inform your servant here," He spared a glance at the boy who looked bemusedly back at him for a moment; "You'll be expected to get back to your duties as soon as you are able."

Arthur's mouth opened, then shut promptly and he nodded instead. Arthur flopped back into the bed the moment Uther turned away, but the motion was far from noiseless, the sounds echoed in his ears even as he strolled out, Gaius falling not far behind.

He smiled then as he closed the door to his chambers, he had looked strange, Arthur was rarely ill, he'd caught a cold maybe once or twice and had, had fevers before as well, but he'd looked quite so much like death as he had. But what did it matter now? He was awake, finally. Gaius had said he'd be back to full health within the week…

A.N One more chapter to go! It'll be in Arthur's POV though, :)