He was floating, enveloped in the silky darkness. He felt no pain or hurt. He had no worries or fears. He was neither happy nor sad. He was simply content. He had neither thoughts nor movement. He was not hungry nor did he feel any thirst. He felt no loss, no anger. In fact, he felt nothing but content in the darkness. He saw nothing but the inky shades of black. He heard nothing whatsoever and had no idea if he was still lying where he had toppled to the ground and fallen or if he had been moved. He didn't even sense anything. It was almost as if his senses had been switched off. However, his mind was still active. Did this mean that he was dead, passing into the next world or simply knocked out? If this was death then it definitely wasn't how he had expected it to be, not that he'd know what it was like. There was no light, no heavenly host, and no banquet. There was nothing but the darkness, and he was quite content to stay wrapped in its soft blanket.

The last thing he'd seen before he fell was her. The young woman who had caused him so much heartache. She who was responsible for the many misfortunes that had befallen him, his family and his kingdom. Her last words still rang in his ears. He'd been betrayed, and by a servant no less. The boy called Merlin had been practising magic right under his nose. He'd never really trusted that boy since the day he first arrived in Camelot. It was only the fact that the boy had saved the Prince's life that he had been given a place in the royal household. Now that trust had been betrayed. To have magic being practised in a land where it was forbidden and the punishment was death was downright treachery. To find this out from a sorceress was even worse. Did this mean that the young girl that had stolen Arthur's heart was really a sorceress? How many more magicians had slipped through their fingers? Was there anyone who actually followed the law?

However, as time passed by, the darkness began to grow lighter. The inky shades of black began to turn slowly into soft shades of grey. Slowly but steadily, pain began to grip his body and he was dragged back to the real world. His ears began to work and allowed him to work out his whereabouts. He had been moved, and he was surrounded by people. His head ached as his eyelids flickered. He could hear voices, but one voice in particular. Her voice. The one whose tone and words were now echoing in his mind.

As his eyelids flickered and slowly opened, Uther squinted in the harsh light. The King came around but felt nauseous. He began to worry slightly as he recollected what had happened before he fell. Before the blast of energy had hit him, he remembered what Arthur was asking. He remembered what his son had been pleading for. Alethea. The girl who had been in Camelot for quite some time and had returned after disappearing for just a day. It seemed that the girl who had returned was not the girl who had disappeared. It seemed that Nimueh had captured Alethea and taken on her form in order to destroy Camelot. No one had actually discovered the truth until it was too late. Was anyone really who they said they were anymore?

Not daring to move apart from opening his eyes, the former King of Camelot found himself staring into the traitor's eyes. In fact, he was looking at both the servants belonging to his ward and his son. He didn't know where Arthur or Morgana were and for one moment, his fears began to set in. Merlin and Gwen said nothing, but instead looked away. They tried not to give anything away, but Uther knew that they could not hide the fact he was awake for long. It was then that he realised he was tied with ropes. His hands and his feet were tied together and he could not move without being noticed.

"Sleeping Beauty awakes."

"Nimueh." Just one word, but Uther knew that it could cause much pain and harm.

"What do you want Nimueh?" He spat.

"It doesn't matter anymore what I want Uther. I've already got that now. My revenge is complete."

"What?" Uther asked, unsure of what she meant.

"One dragon is dead."

"What!"

"Looking for your Prince? I'm afraid he isn't here."

"What have you done with him Nimueh?" He asked worriedly.

"I did as he asked. "

"What?"

"Even I thought that you or your son would be able to see straight through me, but no. It was just one servant who no one would listen to. In fact, it seems you Pendragons are no good at listening to those lower than you. You didn't listen to the girl when she gave you my warning, and your son didn't listen to his servant when he was telling the truth."

"You took the girl's form. How were we to know it was you?"

"That's the point. You weren't." she laughed. "Now, I think it's about time I saw you proper. Untie his legs." She ordered Merlin and Gwen. As he was untied, he was hauled to his feet and thrown in front of Nimueh.

"What have you done to them?"

"Good little slaves aren't they?" she said. "Now, what to do with you Uther Pendragon?" she said, getting to her feet and circling him.

"What have you done with him? What have you done with my son?"

"Given him what he wished for."

"No." Uther said, disbelievingly.

"Oh yes. He's with his dearest Alethea."

"But…"

"Do you want to know where they are? Oh Uther, do you really think I'd not carry out my revenge."

"What?" Nimueh just smiled whilst handing him a sword, with a pendant hanging from it. It took him just one look to realise that it was his son's sword. "No."

"I gave him what he wished for. Such a shame that the girl is dead."

"No…" Uther's worst fears were beginning to be realised.

"I'm so sorry Uther. He's dead."

"No…No… Nimueh, please, bring him back." The sword clattered to the ground, lying innocently in front of the last of the Pendragons.

"No. For every life that is saved another must be lost."

"Then take my life instead. He's only young, with a life in front of him. Just please, let him live."

"Beg."

"What?"

"Beg. I will only bring him back if you beg."

"Nimueh, please, bring him back." He pleaded on his knees, tears in his eyes. "Please, just let my son live."

"Hmm, considering you asked so nicely….How about? No!"

"But you said…"

"Too late. He's already dead. No amount of magic can bring him back."

"But please Nimueh, bring him back."

"No. You know something Uther, I don't see why you have forbidden magic. It's always been around. Even in places as far away as Egypt, magic exists. It always has done, always will do, no matter how hard you try to get rid of it."

"Bring him back. Take me instead. He's only young."

"It's too late Uther. The prophecy has been fulfilled. One dragon is dead, but there's one thing I lied about."

"And what is that?"

"I will not actually rest now."

"No… Nimueh, you've had your revenge. Just let me mourn my son in peace."

"Now, that is one thing I will allow you."

"You will?" he asked, somewhat confused. Nimueh just smiled.

"Take him away." Before he could even object, he was being dragged from the room and thrown into his room. It was here that he was locked in and left to mourn his son.

Unable to believe that his only son was dead, Uther stayed where he had fallen. There is no way to describe the loss of a child, let alone the only child from a dearly loved wife. Arthur looked like his mother, and yet they had never met. Igraine had been cruelly taken away from him the moment his son had been born. Their pact with Nimueh had turned sour and Uther had sworn revenge on those responsible. He had hunted down all of those practising magic and removed them. He had not managed to get rid of one person though and now he regretted it. He should not have allowed her to live. She may have given them a child, but she had done so knowing the consequences and had not told them. If Uther had not let Nimueh go free then perhaps he would still have a son and heir. Then Camelot would have some hope of survival.

It was pointless regretting it now though. It was too late. There could be no changing what had happened now. Arthur was dead and Nimueh now had control of the kingdom. The knights of Camelot were no more and no other kingdoms knew of their plight. It would seem that the situation was hopeless. There was no way to escape it. Nimueh had gotten her revenge, and Uther would have to suffer her reign of terror. He had not even seen Arthur's body, so did that mean that there was nothing to see? Had his son died quickly and painlessly? Or had he suffered until he begged for someone to put an end to his misery? Was there anything else left of him other than his sword?

Uther began to regret not listening to Arthur. He should not have pronounced the girl a sorceress and let her die. He should not have let Arthur get so close to her. In fact, he should not have put so much pressure on his son to do well. Then perhaps he would still have a son. Arthur was a mighty warrior so surely he could not have let Nimueh win without putting up a fight, but what use were weapons against magic? It would be like trying to put out a large fire with a small bucket of water. Before you could get close enough, it would have consumed you. Arthur must have known that it would be a hopeless battle, but he still put up a good fight anyway.

He smiled. Arthur had always been one to fight battles, even if he knew that he had no chance of winning. That had happened ever since Arthur was a young child. At the age of five he had gotten into a fight with one of the older boys in Camelot. Arthur was smaller than this lad, but this hadn't stopped him from swinging the first blow. It had been hopeless, but Arthur had been glorious in defeat before running to his father. Uther had given his son a hug and assured him that everything would be all right. Arthur soon had his revenge on the boy because a few years on, Arthur had beaten him in training. Perhaps that was what had spurred his son on to become such a great warrior. He'd have made a great king one day, but Uther had never told his son. It seemed he'd never have the chance to now.

Looking from his window, Uther saw the bodies of the fallen still lying in the courtyard, their blood staining the cobbles. The King may have been injured, but it was just a scratch. He would live, unlike the boy who had given them the warning. He must have been dead by now too. So many people dead and for what? Revenge for being kept away from the kingdom? For magic being banned? The price just was not worth it. If Uther had known just what was to come, he would have removed the ban. If it had meant that so many lives would not have been lost then he would not have kept it. Then again, had twenty years of removing magic really been worth it? No. In fact, at that moment, it seemed to Uther that those twenty years had been wasted. It hadn't worked in the slightest. There were still people practising magic under his nose and he hadn't seen it. Now there was nothing he could do about it. Nimueh had control of Camelot and her revenge was complete. Uther no longer had the throne, and his son was dead. His one last reminder of Igraine was gone. Arthur was dead, and now Camelot had no hope of surviving.