Uther, King
Uther: King
Chapter One
King Uther Pendragon twisted uncomfortably upon his throne. Whether or not he was able to show it, the troubles of the kingdom of Camelot weighed heavily upon his shoulders. Ah, his shoulders. He shrugged repeatedly, unable to loosen aching muscles. The stab wound inflicted upon his right shoulder so many years ago had never quite healed. Not that he blamed Gaius. He was an excellent herbalist, but not a magician…Uther would never allow magic, in any case, not even to soothe the pain that kept him up at night, especially when he needed sleep so badly.
Uther was exhausted. He had many responsibilities, and even more worries, but none that troubled him more than that of his son. Particularly, the budding relationship between Arthur and that upstart of a peon, Merlin.
Did Arthur truly believe that his own father, who oversaw all, could not see what was going on under his own nose, in his own castle? Arthur wasn’t king yet, damnit, no matter how many times he dared to defy his own true father, his own true king. Arthur still could not distinguish for himself what was and was not good for him. Could Arthur learn, before it was time for him to make decisions not only for himself, but for his people? Would he even learn?
Arthur’s attachment to his servant, Merlin, continued to demonstrate the problem. Arthur had learned to put his kingdom before himself, but not to put the greater good of his kingdom before the good of those he was attached to. And although Arthur did not yet see it that way, sacrificing his kingdom for his loved ones was still sacrificing others for himself. It was still selfish.
Furthermore, that Arthur should so selfishly love this Merlin, who was so far below Arthur’s station, was ridiculous. And Merlin...clumsy, awkward, unbecomingly forward Merlin…was a boy. Not that these things weren’t known to happen. Knights surviving their shared experiences on the battlefield, too much ale, weeks spent camping out under the stars. But this was not the battlefield, and Merlin was no knight. And the kingdom of Camelot must be assured an heir to the throne. Arthur’s new obsession was bad, on so many levels. No, Merlin would never do. But, Morgana? No, he had not yet decided what should become of Arthur’s relationship with his ward.
Uther stirred once more, before waving his hand in dismissal. “That will be all for today.” He strode from the room, barely pausing to acknowledge the court kneeling before him. He had held audience with villagers all day. They came from far and wide, seeking solutions to the problems of their daily lives. Marauders, famines, wells run dry. Uther did what he could. He would always do what he could, until the day the kingdom’s problems became Arthur’s.
All that Uther could do now, though, was sleep. He was just too tired to be of any use. He allowed his servants to fuss over undressing him and tucking him in bed. Closing his eyes, he did his best to push aside the troubles of the day, and his concerns about Arthur. Eventually, Uther drifted off to sleep. Even in his dreams, he continued to watch over all who needed him.
…
He continued to watch over all who needed him. His was a never-ending responsibility. All who needed him? That was adding up to be quite a few more people than he ever could have anticipated. But he could handle it. Watching was his specialty. He was, after all, a Watcher.