♔ 3 | Uneasy Lies The Head...

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur is standing in the Great Hall of Camelot, the Coronation crown heavy upon his brow

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[waterfell]

[Half woman, half fish, the Lady Mercury waits beneath the lake, beneath the shining surface. Her hair, laced with rows of sapphires, flows out from her face and sways like seaweed caught in the current.

Her voice is far too light, almost sweet, against the coldness of her words. She seems to treat it all as play.]

Take off the crown - if you want to live.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur turns towards the voice, which is somewhat familiar to him, but he really can't think too clearly right now.]

"I can't," [he shakes his head helplessly.] "I'm the king...I have to wear the crown. I have to rule..."

[waterfell]

You already forgot what you should have done. Should I help you now?

[not_a_clotpole]

"What are you talking about." [Arthur is sinking further and further, the water is up to his chin now.] "What have I forgotten?"

[waterfell]

I told you the price I wanted a long time ago. You wear the crown now.

Make it happen, or drown under what you brought on yourself.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Arthur continues to struggle, confused, not understanding what she's asking him.

Some people just don't remember their dreams very well...if at all.]

"I don't...I just want everything the way it was..."

[waterfell]

How pathetic.

If you want to call yourself a prince, you have to be ready for the day it will be 'king'.

[not_a_clotpole]

[Her words give Arthur pause and perhaps a bit of bouyancy.

He'll still object though.]

"It's never easy to accept a parent's death."

[waterfell]

[No, it's not. Even as she is now, her mother's death would devastate her. However, a royal has a duty to their position.]

Your private and public wills are different.