Chapter Text
Uther smiled lovingly at the baby boy swaddled in his arms. His son. He could hardly believe it—it wasn’t long ago that Gaius informed him of Ygraine’s infertility and told him they would never have a child. His bargain with the High Priestess Nimueh was his last effort to try and provide an heir to the throne. He was astonished at the success it brought, how magic could be so strong.
He let Arthur wrap his fingers around one of Uther’s, the baby’s skin so soft. He had his mother’s bright blue eyes, Uther noticed with delight. He truly was his mother’s son, with her blonde hair and fair skin. Uther hoped he inherited more from her as he grew, like her patient and kind nature. His better half, all the things he was not.
Yet more than that, Uther hoped his son inherited his father’s strength and skills, his courage and ability to rule. He had high expectations for his son and was eager to watch him someday grow into a man worthy of ruling Camelot in Uther’s place.
Pulling himself from his thoughts, his gaze shifted to Nimueh, whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Uther,” she began. “I told you magic like this doesn’t come without a cost.”
The king’s smile fell. “What do you mean?”
Nimueh looked over towards where Ygraine was lying on the bed, motionless.
Realization set in and Uther rushed to his wife’s side, baby still held in his arms. He placed a hand on her chest, but her breathing had already stopped. “No, it can’t be,” he whispered. “She can’t be dead. Ygraine, please!”
Tears began to fall as Uther’s usually stoic face fell into a look of anguish. His wife, the love of his life, was dead. All that he had hoped for, all the plans they had, it was all for nothing. He looked down at Arthur, who was already looking up at him. His son would grow up without a mother, he realized. And it was his fault.
Suddenly, he turned on Nimueh. “You did this,” he snarled. “You tricked me.”
“Uther, I told you the price would be high,” Nimueh replied, calmly.
“You knew Ygraine would die,” he accused.
“I didn’t know it would be her.” Her voice was quiet. “I do feel for you, Uther, and I’m so sorry it had to happen this way. But this is your own doing.”
“I did NOT kill my wife,” Uther spat. “You did, with your dark magic. I never should have trusted you. You’ve taken the light of my life, my love, my son’s mother. And for that, you will pay dearly.”
“It would not be wise to threaten a High Priestess, my lord,” Nimueh warned, her eyes narrowing.
“From here onward, magic will be banned in Camelot, and all those who practice it will face execution,” Uther declared. “Leave now and never return. I never want to see you again after what you’ve done, and if I do, my face will be the last you’ll ever see.”
“Uther, you can’t do this,” Nimueh protested. “This is your own doing, you cannot punish all those who practice magic to clear your conscience.”
“I can, and I will,” Uther shouted. “Leave, Nimueh!”
The High Priestess knew Uther wouldn’t see reason. She knew from the moment he asked for her help that he would make things difficult. She should have known better than to offer the deal to him, knowing that Uther may not be able to handle the price.
Her anger flared at his audacity. “I will leave you with one parting gift,” she snarled before she began chanting a spell, reaching her hands out towards the child.
“What are you doing? Stop this!” Uther demanded, backing away from Nimueh and trying to shield his son from her view. It was useless, though, as she continued her spell. Light shined from her raised palm as her magic filled the air. Her power was overwhelming—even Uther could sense it.
Soon enough, there was a flash of light as she finished her spell. “The curse I have put upon your son cannot be broken. You have no one to blame but yourself for the mess you’ve made,” she told him, coolly. Before he could open his mouth to speak, there was another flash of light, and the high priestess disappeared.
Uther looked down at his son, horrified. What could she have done? Would he be able to see the curse now, or would it be revealed later on in his life? What if it wasn’t something physical that he could see?
He looked over Arthur’s face, not seeing anything wrong. It wasn’t until he lifted the blanket that he gasped.
“Arthur, are you listening to me?”
Arthur looked up from where he had been fiddling with the ring on his finger. “Yes, father, you were saying something about my knights?”
Uther rolled his eyes with a sigh. “I was informing you of my plan to send you and a group of the knights out to address a concern raised about bandits in one of the outer villages. When you are king, you will need to remember that it is your duty to protect all of your subjects.”
Arthur hated what he was about to say. “Father, I can’t,” he replied, nervously. “It’s that time of the month.”
Uther’s face fell, taking on a look of thinly veiled disgust. “Yes, how could I forget. Very well, you will leave when you’re finished with that in several days.”
Arthur felt guilt twist inside his gut. He had always been ashamed of his curse, and his father’s disgust only made it that much more unbearable. It felt like he was being punished each time he was forced to remind Uther of how he would never be the perfect son, no matter how hard he tried.
He left the throne room shortly after, swiftly making his way towards Gaius’s chambers. He knocked on the door before stepping inside. “Gaius?” he called.
“Arthur,” Gaius greeted with a smile. “I assume this is not a social visit?”
Arthur returned his smile. “No, it isn’t. It’s that time of the month.”
“Oh, yes,” Gaius replied. “I have everything ready for you. You’ll find a room under the castle where you won’t be disturbed. I’ve marked it with a piece of red fabric tied around the door handle. There’s food and water inside, though I will bring you more food around dinner time tomorrow when you start to run out.”
“Thank you, Gaius,” Arthur sighed. “I always appreciate your help with all of this. I’m sure it’s not the most pleasant for you to deal with.”
“Not at all, my lord,” Gaius replied. “It is no trouble at all.” He paused for a moment. “This curse is not your fault, and it is nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not something you can control. I know Uther has his views, but I have never thought less of you because of this.”
Arthur smiled half-heartedly. “You’re very kind,” he replied. Gaius’s words fell on deaf ears, though. Arthur’s curse was his greatest shame. On the battlefield, he felt confident in himself and in his skills as a swordsman. However, when the battle was over and he was lying in his bed at night, his thoughts ran wild. He found himself circling around and around, pinpointing everything wrong with himself, everything that made him less of a man. At times, he wondered if he was truly worthy of being king.
“I will see you tomorrow,” Arthur said, closing the door behind him as he left.
After leaving Gaius’s chambers, he walked down several hallways until he reached his room. He stepped inside only to stop in his tracks. “Merlin?”
There was a loud thump as Merlin hit his head on the bed frame. He was currently on his hands and knees, the top half of his body under the bed where he seemed to be searching for something. He sat up, rubbing his head and looking around for who had called his name until his eyes landed on Arthur. “Yes, my lord?” he asked, innocently.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Arthur demanded.
“I was just…erm…looking for something. Looking for…for this!” Merlin triumphantly held up what looked to be a button from one of Arthur’s dress shirts.
“And how did it get under my bed?” Arthur asked, eyebrow raised.
“Oh, you know how buttons are. Never can seem to keep them on the shirt,” Merlin babbled, nervously.
Arthur eyed him suspiciously before shifting his gaze to the button. It was dark red in Camelot’s traditional royal color. He recognized it, but he couldn’t place which item of clothing it belonged to.
Suddenly it hit him. “That’s from the shirt I told you to mend weeks ago! What have you been doing all this time?”
“Well I found the button now, so I’ll just go take care of that now,” Merlin said, rushing towards the door.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Arthur tutted, placing a hand on Merlin’s chest to stop him. “Now that you’re here, I need you to clean every inch of this room top to bottom. I expect it spotless by the end of the day.”
He turned to leave before adding on, “Oh and Merlin? I think I heard a rat scurrying around, so make sure you take care of that, too.”
Arthur smirked as he heard Merlin’s groan at being assigned more work. He loved to torture his manservant.
As the sun set, Arthur found himself pacing back and forth in his chambers. It felt as if time had slowed, his dread building as they got closer and closer to nightfall. He felt along the ridges of his ring with his other hand, absentmindedly. He debated going down now, but another part of him wanted to put this off as long as possible.
A knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts. “Come in,” he called.
Merlin stepped through the door, closing it behind him. “My lord,” he greeted.
“What do you want, Merlin?” Arthur said, dully.
“I’m here to undress you,” he supplemented. “For bed?”
“Yes, right, of course,” Arthur sighed. Merlin walked up to him and began unbuttoning the many layers he had on, despite the warm weather. His fingers worked quickly, removing Arthur’s chainmail until all that was left was his white undershirt. Arthur removed it himself and grabbed the clothes Merlin held out to him, stepping behind the changing screen.
Once he had finished, he stepped back out to see Merlin already looking at him. The servant quickly looked away when he noticed Arthur was watching. “Is there anything else I can do for you, my lord?”
“No, that will be all.”
Merlin didn’t move. “Are you sure? There isn’t anything you’d like me to do?”
Arthur eyed him suspiciously. “Yes, Merlin,” he said, placing emphasis on his name. “There is nothing else I’d like you to do.”
Merlin looked around for several seconds before his eyes landed on a speck of dirt on one of the floorboards near the far wall. “Oh, look at that! I’d better take care of that now. Wouldn’t want your nice clean clothes to get dirty if you were to slip on that.”
Arthur grit his teeth. “I said it’s fine. It will still be there tomorrow morning, and you can clean it up then. Don’t you have anything better to do? I’m sure the tavern misses your frequent visits.”
Merlin scowled. “I never…never mind. I’d really rather take care of this now.”
Arthur looked out the window briefly, seeing the moon had risen to its peak. It was time. He picked up the nearest object (which happened to be a particularly heavy paperweight) and threw it at Merlin’s head.
Merlin ducked, and it hit the wall behind him, leaving a sizable dent. He looked up at Arthur with a disgruntled huff. “Fine, fine, I’m going!” He waited until he was at the door to add on a “prat” before leaving.
With Merlin finally gone, Arthur let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know what had gotten into his servant to act like that, but he decided not to dwell on it. He had more pressing matters to attend to.
After waiting some time to make sure Merlin was gone, he pulled his cloak on and placed the hood over his head to obscure his face. He crept down through the hallways until he reached the door leading under the castle. After looking around for prying eyes, he continued on, stepping through the door as quietly as he could.
Once Arthur had reached the end of one of the corridors, he was pleased to see the piece of red fabric tied around the doorhandle. He untied it and took it with him inside the room. Shutting the door behind him, he looked around at what Gaius had prepared.
In one corner, a bed had been made up for him, the comforter thick to keep him warm from the chill present under the castle. Arthur didn’t think he would need it, though.
Various nonperishable foods were stacked in the other corner, along with several cups filled with water. There were several clean towels laid beside the food. Other than that, the room was bare, its walls void of decorations and the only furniture being the bed.
Arthur had used a different room every time, though this wasn’t the first time he was in this one. It was best to avoid patterns, lest someone notice.
He flopped down on the bed with a sigh. It would be over soon, he reminded himself. It was only one day. He began to strip his clothes until he was sitting in the middle of the bed, naked.
With a rush of courage, he took a steadying breath and slid his ring off of his finger. Then, everything seemed to come to a halt.