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“Father, I have told you–”

“Do not speak to me.”

It was no use. Uther was beyond reason.

“To think all I have given up for you,” Uther hissed. “And this is how you repay me. You are no son of mine.”

Arthur sank even further into the floor, body shuddering as he tried to hold back his tears. Uther stepped forwards, slowly, deliberately, closing the short distance that separated him from Arthur. He pointed his sword towards Arthur’s neck, and for one horrible moment, Merlin thought he’d misjudged the king’s intentions. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realised Uther showed no sign of making good on his threat, as for all his criticism of Arthur’s mercy and compassion, Uther Pendragon could not find it in himself to kill his son.

“I am exiling you.” Uther’s whispered words cut through the room. “If you are ever seen in Camelot again, you are to be killed on sight. Do you understand?”

Slowly, painfully, Arthur nodded his head.

“And as for your dear friend Merlin” – Uther’s voice dripped with false sweetness as his free hand tightened its grip on the rope wrapped around Merlin’s neck – “I think I shall promote him to personal manservant to the king. I have asked the Royal Blacksmith to make me something a little stronger than this rope to restrain him, lest he get any ideas about following you into that thick head of his.”

Arthur lifted his head, eyes wide. “No, Father, I can’t let you hurt Merlin–”

Uther pressed the sword even closer to Arthur’s neck. If it weren’t for Merlin’s protective wards around Arthur, it certainly would have drawn blood. Merlin sighed to himself. He had let this go on long enough. If he let it go on any further, any hopes of Arthur becoming the Once and Future King would be dashed. He didn’t care one jot about that dragon’s stupid prophecy, but he did care very much for Arthur. He couldn’t let the man he loved be treated like this, not by his own father of all people.

“Put the sword down,” Merlin said, voice oddly level despite the anger bubbling inside him. Uther’s hand twitched, ready to pull tight on Merlin’s leash, only to notice that the rope had vanished; in its place, a snake coiled around Merlin’s neck, its tongue flicking lazily. Uther’s sword fell to the ground with a loud clatter. Arthur had not moved from his position on the floor, but his eyes were trained on Merlin.

“What sorcery is this?” Uther demanded, eyes wide with shock.

“It’s not sorcery, it’s magic.” Merlin thrust his arm forward, and Uther was thrown against the wall. His body slid to the floor, head slumped forward, leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Merlin walked forward, slowly, deliberately, glowing eyes locked on Uther.

“I was born with it.”

He held his hand out, and Uther’s discarded sword came flying into it.

“And I use it for Arthur.” His head turned towards the prince. “Only for Arthur.”

Arthur’s eyes flicked between Merlin and his father, struggling to take in what he was seeing. His father had tried to have him exiled. Merlin had put a stop to that, with magic. Merlin had magic. Arthur could not even find it in himself to be surprised. His emotions were so fraught already, he was not sure he was capable of feeling anything more than the sharp desperation of a moment ago. No, that wasn’t quite right – there was something else there, alongside his growing anger towards his father. Ah, yes, his love for Merlin. Burning bright and strong in the very centre of his heart.

Arthur stood up, almost in a daze. His feet made their way towards Merlin, who was standing before Uther, seemingly waiting for the prince to join him. Arthur felt the sudden weight of Excalibur in his hand, and he was not sure where the sword had come from.

“What shall we do with him?” Merlin whispered to him, breath hot in his ear.

Arthur tilted his head to regard his father properly. Uther looked half-broken already; clearly, the only thing worse than his son courting a servant (and a male one at that!) was finding out his son was in fact courting a sorcerer. Arthur’s hand reached forward, and he felt himself point his sword at Uther’s throat.

“To think all I have done for you.” Arthur’s words came out cold and sterile. “All the people I have killed for you, all the parts of myself I repressed to try to please you, and this – this – is how you repay me. You are no father of mine.” Arthur withdrew Excalibur, a lone tear sliding down his cheek. “I hereby exile you from this kingdom, Uther Pendragon. If you are ever seen within the borders of Camelot again, you are to be killed on sight. Do you understand?” Arthur’s voice shook, but his resolve was firm. He felt the warmth of Merlin beside him, supporting him. They certainly needed to have a serious conversation, but that was not a matter for the present.

Merlin’s eyes locked with Uther’s for one last time. “The King is dead,” he said, and the colour drained from Uther’s face as the reality of the betrayal sunk in.