Video ( broadcast mind )

[king]

"It is my time."

"No. You can't die."

Your hands are sticky with blood where they press over his wounds, your limbs heavy with the drug the assassin had used. Nothing seems entirely real, when adrenaline wars with this drunkenness, but the weight of your father's body cradled in your arms is the realest thing you've ever experienced.

"I know you will make me proud, as you always have." Your chest constricts at the look on his face, a look you had striven every day of your life to see, words you had spent your whole life aching for. But you didn't want them like this. "You will be... a great king."

"I'm not ready," you say. You are not sure you will ever be ready.

"You- you've been ready for some time, Arthur."

"No. I need you..."

"I know I've not been a- a good father. I put my duty to Camelot first. I'm sorry."

Tears prick your eyes. It is not manly to cry, you know that, but perhaps you can be forgiven the droplets that start to slide down your cheeks. Your breath hitches as though you are the one stabbed. "Don't say that."

He continues, regardless, steel in his gaze even at the end. That unwavering strength you have always aspired to, crumbling slowly. "But know this one thing. I always loved you."

His eyes slowly close.

It is your birthday. Twenty-six years ago your mother died bringing you into this world, and now your father seeks to follow her, as you hold him helplessly on the stone floor of his bedchambers and sob.


—


You always saw your father as a large man, clad in mail, sword in hand. Broad of chest and shoulder, as you are growing to be, straight-backed and firm-jawed. Now he lies in state on the bier, crown and red cloak and fingers clasped over his sword, and his eyes closed, never to open again. The room is huge around you both, and your father, he looks so small.

"I'm sorry," you tell him. For all the mistakes you've made, not the least using sorcery to try to save him, the sorcery he's spent his whole life reviling. You're so angry: at Morgana, at the sorcerer who dared to walk into the king's chambers and snuff out the last of his life, at the assassin, at Gaius who had no natural remedy, at your father for not fighting hard enough, at yourself. Most of all at yourself. "I'm sorry, father."

There is no response.

It's a long night. You cry. You rage. You speak in a low voice of memories: the time he threw you in the dungeons to teach you a lesson you still haven't learned. The time he drugged you and fought an impossible foe himself, so that you wouldn't have to. The clash of your blades in this very throne-room after Morgause's lies about your mother's death. The way your feigned death was the only thing that could break a troll's enchantment over him. The blur of rage that overtook you when he had Guinevere dragged away. And smaller things: you remember him in your room as a child when you were sick and feverish, his cool hand on your forehead. You remember the horse he bought you for your eighteenth name day. The way he looked after you won your first tourney (and your second, tenth, fiftieth... always so proud.)

There is a storm of feelings inside of you, but your father taught you that feelings are no way to rule a kingdom. You will not let anger rule you, because it will in turn rule your kingdom. You will not let grief stop you from taking your rightful place on the throne. These feelings feel endless and engulfing and you will never be able to control them. There is too much darkness. Too much sadness. Too much guilt. You have a duty to your people.

So you leave it behind. You drop a kiss one his forehead below the smooth metal line of his crown, pull the heavy white sheet up and over the body, over the face. You wipe away the tears that have streaked your face, and you leave every emotion you have about your father's death behind, in that huge empty chamber, morning sunlight streaming through the high arch windows.

When you open the doors to the ante-chamber, Merlin is sitting slumped against the wall, away from you, looking like all the things you no longer feel.

"Merlin?"

He turns his head, and you regard each other for a moment. His eyes are very blue. At length, you add: "It is a new day," and he seems to take this as some kind of command, for he nods, stands. "Have you been out here all night?"

"I didn't want you to feel you were alone."

You take your first real breath of the last twenty-four hours, feeling it expand in you, clear and good. "You're a loyal friend, Merlin." A pause. All night. "You must be hungry?"

"Starving."

"Me too. Come on... you can fetch us some breakfast."

You walk up the stairs together, side by side.

Comments

[bruxisms]

[ Death and pain. It would seem that was all that the Forge brought as of late. ]

From what I have seen of you, your father spoke truly.

[ The "I am sorry for your loss" remains unspoken. After all, that is not the sort of man he is. ]

Video.

[king]

[ It is the next morning before he replies, and his face is an emotionless mask. ]

Thank you.

[ A pause, deciding whether or not to add how much this means to him. ]

You remind me of him, sometimes.

Video.

[bruxisms]

[ well... that was somewhat surprising, given that he was only ten years older than the other man, but perhaps it did make sense.

He nods. ]

Before anything else, a man must be a king.

voice;

[sweeping]

[ she chooses voice, and it is not for the reasons she used it before, because she didn't wish to see his face, or for him to look upon hers. it is because she does not know quite what her own features are doing. uther killed her father, as surely as if he had driven the sword through his belly with his own hands.

but gwen knows the loss of a father, the grief of it, the pain. even if uther was not...he had been arthur's father, and arthur had loved him. there's a soft exhale of breath before she speaks. ]

Arthur...Arthur, I am so sorry.

video;

[king]

[ Arthur, on the other hand, does not shy from any of this. He's as cold and blank as he'd felt ]

Thank you.

[sweeping]

[ there's a pause. it's awkward, even though it shouldn't be. they'd moved past that, haven't they? ]

That should not have happened to you. Or to him.

[ no one should lose their father in such a manner. ]

Video;

[veneficus]

[ she watches it once, feeling the familiar tightness in her throat, the burning in her eyes. She knew, yes; but this breaks her heart and at the same time it scares her; she can't understand why isn't she there to help Arthur - where is she?

Suddenly, she's scared to find out. But - ]

Arthur. Arthur, wake up. You are dreaming.

Video;

[king]

[ It's a while before he replies, because Arthur doesn't keep his Forge anywhere near him during Broadcast Mind, always terrified of something like this happening. ]

I'm awake.

Video;

[veneficus]

[ She doesn't even know what to say. 'I'm sorry' sounds so formal, as if she didn't know Uther at all. But everything else sounds wrong too. ]

The Forge...it shows such horrors, this month.

I'm sorry, Arthur. I know this was...not for everyone to see.

[ She wants to say 'I'm sorry I wasn't there' but she's worried at what he might have to say to that. ]

video;

[sworntovalor]

[It's taken him a long time to compose himself. This is painful to watch, more painful than having his own sorrow displayed - he has had years to make peace with his parents's death. Dealing with Arthur's pain is new, and raw. For both of them.]

[Finally he replies, his eyes reflecting the sorrow he feels in his heart for his friend - his king. He doesn't linger on things that his mind still wants to linger on. It is not the time nor the place.]

I am so sorry, Arthur.

video;

[king]

It was not your fault.

video;

[sworntovalor]

Nonetheless, I am sorry you had to suffer such pain.

[And that he wasn't there to stop it; to defend you with from this pain, with his life if need be.]

[video]

[inpiecesofcloud]

Your papa is gone, Au-rin?

[video]

[king]

He is, Yachiru.

[video]

[inpiecesofcloud]

And he can't come back?

video;

[shihandai]

..My Father--[she swallows]
He died recently, also. He was a great man. I like to think that..both yours and mine are proud of us.

video;

[king]

I hope so.

[ A beat, and even though he hates hearing the words, they're all he has to offer. ]

I'm sorry for your loss.

voice;

[unparental]

[ not that jenna knows this guy from adam, but the pain of losing a father is one she's familiar with. ]

I'm so sorry. It's-- it's hard, losing a parent.

voice;

[king]

[ Arthur presses his lips together for a moment before speaking, nodding as he does so. ]

It is. But it's ... inevitable, I suppose.

voice

[miata]

....that's not a good way to die. But. But. You were allowed to say good bye.

voice

[king]

I suppose I should count myself fortunate for that, at least. And there are nno good ways to die, but at least ihe went down fighting.

[ Fighting for Arthur. So he blames himself, even as he knows that given his convalescence for the year before it be could have met a far worse end. ]

video;

[ambitious]

(Watching Arthur's dream inevitably has Quinn thinking about her own father and her inability, or unwillingness, to forgive him)

I can't imagine how difficult that must have been. I'm sorry.

video;

[king]

[ It feels like pity, to him; after all, these people never knew Uther. But at the same time, as deeply uncomfortable as that makes him, he keeps his tone a little gentler than he might otherwise. ]

No need to apologize. It's difficult for everyone, I imagine.

[maybe a blink of video]

[lumenrelegandus]

[Wonders if it's a sign of knowing Arthur well or worse that Lupin sees but decides not to respond at all]

[not hereeee]

[king]

[ He is so grateful it's not even funny. ]