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Uther’s day had started out relatively normally. But, of course, as it so happens at least once a week, something had to go awry; something that, more often than not, was related to magic.
Now, despite what some might claim, Uther Pendragon was a smart man. It just so happens that before the purge, before Ygraine, his beloved wife, died, he was considered the smartest man in Camelot. Unfortunately, as destiny takes its due course, the mighty man shrivels into himself so much so that what is left behind is nothing but a shell of his former self. Rage takes over, and by that, common sense dies out. However, it now seems that fate has different plans, and destiny changes its course once again.
Uther had noticed some odd things about Arthur’s manservant, something that had no place in Camelot. He couldn’t very well revoke the boy—Marvin? Marlin?—’s position considering he had selected him personally just a few days ago; it would make him look indecisive in court. And while he knew Gaius and all of his subjects felt that he was paranoid and a manic about magic, he could not kill the boy he believed to may have just saved his son’s—and possibly his own—life.
Not only that, but his son has also grown incredibly fond of the boy, and Uther cannot deny that the boy certainly has a positive influence on Arthur, so he decides to just keep a close eye on him. What he sees is a clumsy boy with blue eyes and a mop of black hair. Uther ponders on how he believed such a boy could have magic, and convinces himself that what he saw was just a trick of the light.
A few weeks later, when he had pretty much forgotten about the incident, he heard some noises coming from Arthur’s chambers. He decided to take a look. He opened the door halfway, and the first thing he saw was the boy—Miles? Micah?—asleep on Arthur’s bed. But that wasn’t the most disconcerting part, no. What he saw was a mop scrubbing the floor by itself. He saw the windows getting cleaned and the tables being dusted all by itself. He promptly closed the door. Such a blatant display of magic, yet he could not bring himself to punish the boy. Everyone knew how much work Arthur dumps on his servant, and so he lets the boy sleep, for it was just the trick of the light.
This, however, did not mean he didn’t keep a close eye on the boy. No, most definitely not. In fact, when he saw the boy creeping around the castle, he made sure to follow him.
What he saw… was very disturbing. But then he watched the servant boy—Maverick?—and seeing the look on his face, he figured it was best to leave it to him to handle. The next day, when he listens to the servant boy rambling about forgetting to inform him about Arthur going hunting, he says something about food shortage, internally grinning in amusement. He says something else about eloping, watching as Arthur’s face turns red, and he thinks to himself, yes, the boy is going to be a formidable ally , he has already proven his loyalty by taking a blow meant for his son. And then again, it was just a trick of the light, was it not?
Did that mean Uther was going to learn the boy's name? No, of course not.
And the other times he saw the boy—Mason?—acting suspicious, he said nothing about it. In fact, he promptly turned the other way. The less he knew the better. He was quite sure that half of his kingdom knew about the boy’s secret, ( not to say that the boy wasn’t careful, the situation was often just too difficult to hide from everyone ) but he could tell that his own son was still, in the boy’s words, an oblivious prat.
And so we come to today. Uther had gotten up; his useless servant had given him food, brought up his bath water, and dressed him. He struck a few dramatic poses in front of the mirror and then he was all set for the day. The first thing on his agenda… a meeting about the kingdom’s grain supply. He sighs, then, putting on a mask of indifference, he walks out the door, ready to face a boring two hour meeting. He’s also ready to sleep with his eyes open for the last hour, a useful trick he learned when he was just a little bit older than Arthur.
And of course it’s just as he was about to go asleep, that he hears a crash, and sees the broken window with, you guessed it, a sorcerer as the culprit.
Taking one look at the man’s graying hair and long beard, decides that this is something that the boy—Matthew?—can most definitely handle. The boy did not disappoint. Of course, Uther was also expecting the man to drone on and on in an evil spiel as most sorcerers tend to do, but this one just started attacking. Uther raised an eyebrow, he had to give it to the old man, he was smarter than most. A fireball headed straight for him and his son, but he just looked at it tiredly as if it were just a piece of pie. As it is, the fireball disappeared inches from his face. From the corner of his eye, he could see the boy’s extended hand. He could also see Arthur’s open mouth and the sorcerer’s frustrated face.
“ You -“ Ah. There it was. The evil spiel. Thankfully, the boy ended the fight in mere seconds, and an incapacitated sorcerer lay at his feet. The councilors looked shaken, but unsurprised.
Uther looked at the boy, duly noting his terrified expression and white face. He noticed his son’s rapidly blinking eyes and opening and closing mouth, and rubbed a tired hand over his face.
Honestly, if the kingdom was going to be ruled by these two ( yes, he has heard of the prophecy, and deduced, in all fairness, that the servant boy is Emrys ) oblivious idiots… then the kingdom was pretty much doomed ( no matter how much prosperity was prophesized ).
The boy started blabbering “I’m sorry” and “I can explain” ( which, frankly, is the most ridiculous thing Uther has ever heard ) and some more nonsense.
Silencing the boys’ incoherent rambling, he stood up, said, “It was just a trick of the light,” swept a final gaze over his throne room, and promptly walked out.
The council members followed him, but Uther payed them no mind. However, he did note, with no less amount of amusement, that Arthur looked close to fainting.
A few hours later, at least half of the castle could hear someone ( who he most refused to accept was his son, considering the high pitched voice in which it was said, but was sad to admit it couldn’t have been anyone else ) screaming on top of his lungs, “YOU HAVE MAGIC ( it went incredibly high on that ), MERLIN?!”
Ah, so that was the boy’s name; Merlin. Hm… perhaps it was a name worth remembering .