Mortality's Call (Complete)
Title: Mortality’s Call
Rating: PG, strong angst, but also bits of humor/romance / Note that since much of the back-story is shady, this is simply my interpretation.
One Parter
Characters: Igraine, Uther
Disclaimer: I disclaim. Merlin is the property of the BBC/Shine.
Prompt (loved it…thanks for a great one! Hope you like this and near what you wanted)
***
I close my eyes and think that I have found me
But then I feel mortality surround me…
Prompt Credit: myfloralbonnet
***
Is this what it’s like, she wonders within. All around her are so many sounds, but strongest of all…his.
He is screaming. Ranting. Abusing with his words.
Another scream begins, but it is gentler, softer, innocent.
She strives to see, but a haze covers. She yearns to touch, but limbs cannot come to move.
What is this?
Everything feels so far away. The candles in the room seem to be spinning.
The first time she closed her eyes so deep was with him. It was during a kiss, eternal, forever. Both of royal bearing, their union couldn’t have been more…perfect.
She loved him from the first. He, with his strong physical stance, brushed back golden straw hair, deep dark eyes of volume, and vital leading voice.
The first time he kissed her, she felt her knees give to quakes. She closed her eyes so solidly then, before opening and feeling more alive than ever.
And yet now…
How could you betray me, she ponders with pain.
Did you need this so badly that you would forsake our love, our devotion, our…happiness?
A sharp prick invades her stomach, stronger than the fierce normalized pains of labor. She hears a scream beyond.
Only his voice tells her…it is her own.
“Do something! HELP her! Can’t you see she’s in pain?”
“I am sorry Sire.”
Sorry?
The cry is still there, the other cry, the soft baby one. She reaches out, tries to touch, but only in her heart, mind. Her physical being cannot move.
It is trapped in this…
There are so many visions, so many memories, so many pangs of the heart that feel so much lovelier than this descent of her being.
She remembers the first time she knew…that she presented it to him, and heard him giggle like a silly boy.
***
“My Lord, are you busy?”
She enters the long hallway where he sits with a few others, the men writing important words upon a piece of parchment. Turning away from the heated discussion, he answers with distraction.
“Yes Igraine, you know this must be completed by tomorrow, the treaty dealing with the far eastern borders. Can your matter wait?”
Could it? Well yes, but…she feels as giddy as she did when she was a young girl and her father brought her home that lovely spotted pony. Well no wait…even more-so.
Much more-so!
This is the most amazing moment of her life…well next to when she married him….their wedding night…and…
Oh too many others since becoming Queen Igraine. Too many!
“No it cannot my husband.”
Oh dear.
He lifts his busied head from the parchment the men have been discussing and studying, the written treaty, with surprise. “It’s that dire?”
Well she doesn’t know if it is dire, but in a positive way…definitely vital.
She can tell as he finally looks up to face her that he gets it. He knows whatever it is his wife wants to talk to him about, it simply cannot wait.
She listens as he instructs the men politely that they will reconvene in an hour’s time. She sees as a few exchange friendly knowing glances with him. Silly men.
She waits until the room is clear, standing before him in her dress of golden sheen.
The Kingdom of Camelot is grander many say because of her. It is adorned by her presence. She is thankful for those kind praises, but never takes it too deep to heart. She is just meant to be queen. That is all.
And now finally, she can give him what he has always wanted. Now…she is a woman in the most intimate wifely way as much as a queen.
Beautiful life’s miracles!
“What are you grinning so widely about?” He chuckles, bringing her out of her reverie.
Oh he is so handsome, King Uther Pendragon, in his long black coat. Such a daring exciting amazing man.
Smiling even wider she clasps excitedly at his cheeks. “I love you my husband…” She kisses his lips tenderly, before moving into territories of pure passion.
Until she feels his breaking away, hears his laughter even stronger, sees his near blush. “Aaah…uh…”
She flusters him. How she loves having that ability. No one ever flusters Uther Pendragon…but her. His wife. His other half.
“Wow…well…Igraine my dear…wasn’t expecting that.”
“So you are saying My Lord…my Dashing husband…you do not approve?”
She teases with a glint to her eye.
As a young girl she had been a bit shy, seen as ever so sweet, with a voice that rarely rose too high. And she was that, yes, but she too had a wryness to her that only a few souls got. And secretly she has loved then, and now, surprising with it.
“Oh no…I approve, most definitely.” He amends now, adding,
“And I love you too.”
His returned kiss is full and heated.
She sighs with heavenly bliss at its end, uttering words that make her husband’s eyes widen as round as the decorative rings hanging in the knights’ ceremonial room.
“Do I look bigger to you Uther?”
“Uh…what?”
She pushes away from him, holding at the front of her dress with strong intent. “Seriously, does my stomach look rounder at all…
Darling Husband?”
His stare opens up even more. She has to fight to not burst into giggles at his bewildered expression. Her husband is such a smart one, to be confused and not say something hastily.
“Uh…no…of course not. Igraine, you look as wonderful as you did…the day I met you.”
She frowns heavily now…emphasis on heavy. “Are you saying…My Lord…that it would bother you if I gained a bit of weight? Would you not find me…
Lovely anymore?”
Her look is one of such solid hurt that of course quickly he rushes through. Once more she has to battle inwardly to not react. He looks like a boy who has been caught with his father’s best sword.
Terrified.
“NO. Oh…no. Of course not…uh…Igraine. You know how beautiful you are to me. If…you…became a bit more…uh…er…plump…nothing would change.”
She smiles even more coquettishly. “And what if my darling I became like that melon back there on your dining table?” She pulls out her dress extra wide for full emphasis. “Rounder than ever!”
His mouth parts with complete confusion, before he shakes his head. “Uh…well…Igraine…”
She smirks just a bit before she grasps at his wandering hand that doesn’t seem to know what response the mouth should give.
Too funny.
“Do you feel it here at all…My Lord? Any growth…anything different?”
Still not understanding, his expression is comical as he lowers his hand, starts to utter a negative before he frowns.
“Eh…Igraine, this is why you interrupted our meeting? So you could ask me about your…uh…wei-
He seems so scared to say that word. She knows she will not be able to hold up the façade much longer. She is too excited anyway to care to!
She presses his hand harder against her stomach. The play of it all over, she whispers…
“Would you mind it terribly My Lord…if the mother of your child…gained a little weight?”
Tears leap to the back of her eyes without her permission. They match the hint of what is to come from his own.
“Mother of my…”
He repeats slowly…
“Oh Heavenly Camelot…you’re with child? Igraine?”
They have tried for so long, with no success. She has felt a failure to him for not being able to conceive.
Then this morning Gaius confirmed it.
There is something precious in her stomach, a new life, a new…beautiful…
“Yes my Lord.” She sometimes still uses the formal titles when they are intimately alone even, for romantic emphasis, because it just sounds so grand…for play. But now she comes in with his given name with clear affection in her voice. “Yes…Uther, my husband…I am.”
It is enough. There are no more hints. It’s all fully there, his eyes filled with tears, but then quickly enough he is so much a boy flittering through emotions…
Alive…
Thrilled…
Pure elation.
Indeed not just a boy though…
A soon to be father.
She is amused as his hands encircle her waist, brings her up into the air against him.
“Oh Uther…careful!” She cries out playfully as he laughs with pure giddiness.
But then…
He lowers her back down rapidly, apologizing all the way. She chuckles at it, in between her tears, in between his…
“A child…we’re going to have a child…a son!”
She laughs at first but then protests. “Oh well Gaius is magical, but not that good! We don’t know yet for sure. It could be a little girl!”
He brings her in against him, tightly, intimately. “No…I know it will be a boy. A son.”
She smiles a bit less exuberantly. “I will do my best to bring you one. We just do not know for sure my husband. I do not want you to be disappointed.”
He kisses her hair, her cheek. “It will be. I know. I am sure of it.”
“How?” She asks with curiosity.
She does not catch it in his eyes. She is too love fazed.
“I just do.”
***
Now…
She realizes she should have looked more carefully.
There was reason he knew.
Treachery.
Lies to his own wife.
What he had wanted so badly.
It cries.
He…
cries.
The son he had wanted.
Cries.
The son she needs to hold. To see.
Give him to me. She pleads. Please. Let me hold him. Let me hold my…
Just let me look into his eyes before…
She cannot speak though.
She cannot move either.
Screams and unhappiness all around her.
Mixed in with the beauty of new life.
And she is so far away from it.
So sinking into…
***
Her eyes are long closed as softly she hums, thinking to herself that this is everything she has ever wanted. All of it is found here, with him…with this…that grows inside her.
She hears a hard strum of heavy boots and finally parts her eyes. He walks into the room, encased in weighted battle stained armor. Normally she goes to his side to help him off with it, but now she is too comfortably in the tall rocking chair.
He signals with his hand that it is fine, never taking his eyes off her.
She watches as with a bit of effort he brings it all up and away. The chainmail is almost carelessly pulled past his broad chest. The outer red tunic comes off with the gambeson. Below it all is just his thinner tunic. That too he removes, before putting on a fresh blue one.
She can tell he wants to bathe, but since he has walked inside the room, she has been beckoning with her hand. Come here.
With it all off, boots even removed too, he makes his way to the chair. She gets up as he reaches, points. With a tired smile he sits down in the chair. She barely has to move back before she feels his hands tenderly bringing her down right atop him. Closing her eyes, her lips curve with satisfaction.
“Mmmm…this is divine.”
He agrees, pressing his rough lips against her soft cheek. “Sorry...” He apologizes quietly. “The trip through the forest was hot…dry.”
She nods her head with barely felt infliction. “It’s alright. I think I have the remedy.”
She turns in his hold, turns to look down at his face from where she sits atop. “Let me…stroke these roughened cheeks first…tender them from all the heat.”
He closes his eyes as her fingers do the work that not even magic could ever create.
For love is the most powerful magic of all.
“And let these lips…quench the heat.”
She parts her mouth, moistens her tongue, kisses every bit of rough desert-like skin.
He moans, holds her tighter, as intimately she waterfalls his wearied face.
He has just come back from a long trek with his most devoted knights. He is dirtied and love thirsting.
She is his canteen of water. His existence.
She feels his hand move over the front of her dress, press gently against the round mound of life beating within her.
“He’s grown more.”
She doesn’t bother to correct. From the first he insisted it would be a boy. She feels maybe now sometimes…he is actually right. The little one certainly kicks up its…his…feet enough.
“You notice? Ah…yes, growing quite big. Sometimes making it hard to sleep with how he moves around so much…uses those tiny little toes of his...I imagine.”
He chuckles softly at that, before his voice grows reprimanding as he actually lowers his head to speak to her stomach. “Ah now you…better be good to your mother. Or you will have me to deal with. Don’t trifle with your father.”
She laughs at his silliness, shaking her head at the twinkle in his eye as he grins at her. Such a fool of a man. Such a wonder of a man.
“I need a bath.”
He complains.
She starts to rise up. “I will call for-
He stops her retreat, whispers in her ear. “But first I need my wife.”
She closes her eyes. Rapture. Blessed. This is everything she has ever wanted to find, all found. This is bliss. This is…
His arms move around her legs. He carries her before gently bringing her down on the bed. She raises her hands up to him, not caring that he is soiled. Together they will wash it all away. Together…
She reaches for the washcloth at the dresser’s edge, wipes at his face, his neck…
Pulls away his shirt.
Wipes his chest…
He moves down…
Kisses her.
Loves her.
All so gentle now to not disturb too much the life within her.
All sweet to take heed of her inability to move so easily within the makings of loving man and woman.
And yet still, after her bathing of his skin…
After he feels clean enough to touch, to press, to squeeze…
To rain upon her his love…
She cries out…
He moans her name.
Skin all revealed…
They lay tight in each other.
His hand falls upon her bared stomach.
She feels it ever so loving.
Peacefully leading to her eyes closure.
She has found it…
All.
***
A scream.
High.
Shrill.
Once again it is he who tells her…
It is hers.
“DO SOMETHING!”
“I have told you Sire…it is too late…nothing can be done.”
“No.”
Beyond the innocent one screams too. She feels her stomach clench at it.
Before it clenches at more.
Another scream.
Hers again.
And yet she cannot feel it.
It is all beyond her.
As she remembers.
The darkest one.
So soon ago…perhaps this day or the one before.
The day her eyes opened.
And knew.
***
She stares. The room is quiet. He ushers everyone out. She clenches at her stomach. Whispers. Her voice quaking.
“Is it true?”
He shakes his head violently.
She knows then it’s all as it was said. He always shakes like that when he is…
Lying.
“You made this happen?” She points down to her stomach.
He goes to her, but she backs away. Hurt. Shattered.
“I…I thought it was me. I…I thought it was…the Heavenly Father. A miracle…and yet…it was…
Magic?
You allowed a spell…
To be put upon-
She holds to the wall, sickened, repulsed…
Agonized.
“My body?
My being?”
He shakes his head again, fruitlessly. The truth cannot be washed away. She knows too much now. It’s been overheard in conversations she was not meant to be observant to, in little bits he’s contributed to.
She knows now the horror of what he’s done and yet what gift it might bring?
He is her husband, but her eyes are open to him now like he is a monster. “You allowed this to be done to me?” She clenches at her stomach. “Your wife?”
He finally speaks. “No. Igraine. I never would put your life in danger. You must know that. I only…”
His words fade to no end. She laughs bitterly, painfully. So different from the giggles of the moment she revealed it to him.
“You wanted…oh MERCIFUL GOD…you wanted your…son…yes my ‘dear’ husband? THAT’S what you wanted?”
Tears do not rain. They pour. Her gasps end her sentences. The man she loves more than any other man she has ever known has betrayed her in the most awful way. He has shown her the barren pit of her physical self.
“It was not enough just to love me…to have my love…was it Uther? You had to…”
Her head falls. She is hurt beyond telling. She does not scream though. She whispers instead as she lifts her eyes again, making it even more drenched in agony.
“How could you do this to me? Was I not ENOUGH for you? Did you have to-who-who did it?
Who did you…COMISSION to make your wife better…more…suitable? WHO…Uther?”
She can see he is shaking, but she does not care right now. Her whole body feels like it is falling apart. What are supposed to be the happiest days of her life have now been turned to the most revolting revelation. Because she could not bring forth a child, her husband has secretly…put something inside her to MAKE her conceive.
“Igraine, it is not like that. I love you Igraine. You know how much I love you. You are my HEART Igraine.”
He goes to her, holds at her cheeks, but she pushes with her trembling hands. The grand room, always feeling so big, is now growing so small, so stifling.
“Who…did you get?”
He wants to touch her she can tell, but she will not let him anywhere near. He wants to back away from the truth, but she will not allow him to. “Tell me.”
She prays it was Gaius, but quickly she realizes it. Gaius would never do something this horrific and if so not him…
“Nimueh.”
“Ooohhh…”
She moans despondently, before laughing crazily.
“Oh of course!”
Her fool of a husband, trusting that woman who has never meant well to their kingdom, who has always had an…
Agenda.
Who once wanted him.
But he only wanted her…his wife…
Right?
None of that matters now. Only this hole he has created in their marriage. She looks down at the round form of her stomach, alive with child, but what kind of child now?
She sobs painfully.
“Oh God…I have this child who has been growing in me and yet…it is from her…how…how could you do this to me…to our marriage?
Oh…”
“No.” He negates her words quickly. She can tell he still wants to hold her, but she cannot stand that now. The sight of him makes her physically…
Ill.
“She only set the spell, but…Igraine…we made the child. You and I. We made our son.”
She laughs again, emotions too falling from one to the other.
“Our son! Hah...oh hah hah! How many times did you say we were going to have a son…that you just…KNEW? Oh my husband…my DEAR wonderful husband, of course you knew!
You sent the SORCERESS to make sure it would be!
This…whatever this is…oh my God…is a spell of magic! It is no miracle between you and me or Heaven…it is just some conjured up dream you had to have!
I was not enough for you…was I Uther? Your wife…who you say you love so dearly…you do this to? You ruin everything…we ever…were.
You have hurt me more than…”
He holds at her arms now, does not let her go, even though she starts to hit at him.
“No…no…oh for the love of Camelot…Igraine listen to me. I love you…always. This is nothing about what you couldn’t do. I just, Camelot must have a king after me Igraine. Someone must rule over this kingdom. Now our son will. We will love him and he will be…of us. He will never know this secret Igraine. No one will. Just you and I.”
She pushes at his cheek as he tries to kiss her. “Camelot…Camelot…
All for CAMELOT…oh STOP it!”
Now she yells. Now she reaches the place she cannot escape from. This…secret he has used against her. It is worse than…
“Just you and I…you say? Our son will never know. So all is well, yes Uther? I should just…be happy. Be fine with your…
BETRAYAL?
You could have had a sinful affair, conceived a son that way. Honestly…it may have actually hurt less. Because this…this HURTS…
So much!”
He tries to get her to listen, but she shakes her head, shrinks away.
She just wants to be alone. Wants to fall to the floor and weep…
Alone.
“Leave me. Go now.”
She cannot be in this room with him anymore. It is too hot, too sword filled. She ushers him out like he ushered out the others from the room before, those that know this terrible violation.
Gaius.
Nimueh.
Goloris.
And…
Her dear brother Tristan.
Her brother who already started swearing his vengeance.
Her husband tries to get her to listen again, but she turns away. She has had enough. She cannot bear the sight of him.
He commences to leave.
She places her hands on the wall, tears falling…
Over…
And over…
But then…
The pain is excruciating.
It wrenches her stomach until she feels she’s being split open. The scream is forced out, ragged, bloodcurdling. It is only as she sees him turning around with widened eyes, rushing back to her, she realizes...
“Igraine?”
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!”
It is she…
Who screamed.
“IGRAINE!”
She is falling, her legs giving way. She tries to grab the wall, but there is no support. Her hands flail. She screams again and then…
He catches her. She grasps at his arm. These are not pains of regular labor.
These are ones of…
“Uther…”
Her voice sounds so far away. The infliction to her stomach is making her eyes heavy. “Do not let him die…” She begs. It does not matter what brought this child to this world. She would never love it any less. Her words before were of personal pain, but never would she wish ill upon her…
Son.
Oh.
She only wants to hold him.
Please let whatever this be, let him be born, let him be well…
Please. Let me hold him.
“Do not let our son die. Promise me.”
Tears are fully in his eyes, falling down his cheeks, but her vision is blurring. Her eyes stray to the floor.
Odd.
It is so wet.
That is a part of giving birth.
But it is also so…
Red.
She hears him yelling, calling out, cradling her fiercely in his arms.
“I NEED HELP! THE QUEEN…SHE NEEDS HELP!”
“Promise me Uther.” She insists.
His chin trembling, his voice raw, he nods his head, his speech spotted by his crying. “I promise…I promise my darling Igraine that our son will be born well and healthy…and you will be fine too, you will be fine. You will be feeling wonderful enough to hold your son in your arms.
It will be alright Darling…
everything will be fine.
You will…”
She hears another scream, realizing belatedly once more…
It is her.
“HURRY!
She is bleeding…so much…oh
Help her Gaius!”
His yell as they come rushing back in. Faces she knows so well and yet one is missing.
She is not surprised.
Another one climbs up into her stomach, forcing her mouth open, shocking her body.
And then…
His face disappears.
Her husband is only heard.
The room spins.
And
In the middle of the new scream…
The floor turns black.
***
She lies in a bed, their bed, in their shared room.
It has been hours perhaps since she collapsed in the grand hall. She does not know for sure. In all this time, during, beyond, she has been awake and seen the room turn to blackness. She has screamed in agony and struggled to bear what she cannot leave this world without.
Now he is born. Her son.
She loves him. She does not care the sick conjuring to create him. He is hers and…
If only she could hold him, if only they would let her, but once again she cannot make a single muscle in her body move. She has no control, no…
Behind blurring eyes, vision going to blindness, the torture on the body already too much for the brain and heart to take, the blood loss too great, she sees her come in. The woman. That woman. She told him to never trust her, but he didn’t listen.
And now…
“Do something.” He pleads. She supposes he has given up on Gaius who has said repeatedly there is nothing that can be done.
‘Too much…
has been lost.’
She never hears fully that word in between.
Her brother’s sobbing image…is in puzzled pieces.
The voice of the woman utters.
“I cannot do anything. This is how it is to be…Uther.”
The woman says his name so simply, so familiarly. It disgusts her. She is drifting though again. Floating on something that locks in the pain and then makes her body feel it is boneless, bloodless.
“USE YOUR MAGIC TO HEAL HER!”
It is there again, the crying of the one she’s carried all these months. She tries to go to it, but she cannot move still. She wants to scream at her inability.
Let me hold my son. Let me hold my dear son…
PLEASE. Let me…just…one…
Moment.
Then…
It can end.
The voices are dulling even more. She can hear them only faintly, her husband’s the strongest.
Who is holding her child? Who is holding their dear…
The name already chosen before his birth, a blend of her husband’s name and that of her mother’s, whose death came one year before they could marry.
Arya+Uther creating…
Arthur
She can hear her husband distantly again. He sounds so awfully upset.
He is accusing.
“YOU did this! You made this happen! Now YOU fix it!”
The voice is so innocent that answers, so deceiving to Igraine’s ears.
“I warned you Uther. I cannot fix this. It is what I said it would be.
A life…
For a life.”
The world is fading so fast, too fast. The pain is dulling. Her vision no longer opens to anything. She cannot see beyond the silent terror of what she is experiencing. This she knows…is the final…
“NOT HER LIFE!”
He screams.
“NOT IGRAINE’S!”
Something is holding her. Something is raining down on her. Something is begging. It lets go for a second.
Some-
one is sobbing.
“Not Igraine…oh not my Igraine…”
And something holds her again. There is a new scent, a new sound, a new…
She parts her eyes as much as she can. Her breath feels so lost in the air. Something holds her head up and she realizes even as she cannot fully see…
It is him.
Her husband.
He looks between the shadows like he has stood out in the rain. The top of his tunic is soaked. His cheeks are littered with wetness. But in his hand that does not hold her, within the crook of his arm…
“It is our son…”
His voice is breaking.
Begging.
“It is our son, Arthur…Igraine…Darling…my wife…”
She has never heard him cry like this before. She has never heard him sound like his heart is fully coming apart…
Until now.
“Look upon your son…please…don’t leave me…oh GOD…don’t leave me…
Igraine…
I’m sorry…
Please…
Igraine…
Forgive me…
Stay with me…
IGRAINE!”
She is able to glance, mortality giving her this strength of permission…
Her eyes opened wide…
For one second
Sees…
He is beautiful…
He is crying.
She whispers in her soul.
Do not cry my beautiful son.
Your father loves you.
Your mother…
Loves you.
Smile.
“IGRAINE!”
She hears his screams, her husband’s. She forgives him. She closes her eyes, the second passed.
She knows it will not be easy.
But now it is done. He will love him. He will learn…
Or he will suffer the pains of his mistakes.
Of his sins.
She found herself in marriage. In becoming Queen.
Or at least she thought.
Now she knows. She never fully did.
Instead…
Mortality has found her.
Surrounds her.
Envelopes her.
Takes her.
But perhaps it is not in vain. There is reason. As her eyes close shut the last time. As mortality’s call is heard.
As it reaches for her hand to carry her away from this world.
To commence the destiny intended. One the wailing babe cannot begin to understand…
Yet.
But one day…
He will.
She dies.
She dies in sacrifice to her…
Son.
The End.
Thank you for reading, thoughts always appreciated.
And once again…
Thank you for such an amazing prompt.
This story was written listening to…
The ethereal sounds of
Trespassers William