Merthur - Forgotten

Trust and Trustworthy

"How will he love you if you lie to him?"

"How will he love me if I don't?"

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 Arthur would admit to anyone who was keen enough to ask that he didn't know everything that went on in his kingdom, but he liked to think he knew all of the importance. He was there for all of the military-related meetings, the food distribution meetings... he had headed the meeting in which they devised a new plan to handle the homelessness problem in central London.

What didn't go through Uther, went through Arthur and that's the way it would stay for as long as Arthur could keep his father alive. That is to say, for many, many years to come. Then it came to pass that Uther fell sick and there was nothing the new Physician to the King could do. Martin would have known, of course, but Martin was not there.

More than once Arthur had gone to see his father and each time, he was met with the same exasperation that plagued him.

"There's no virus that can take hold this quickly. It's as if it was tailored for him!"

"I don't understand, he's getting all the nutrition he needs. Why is he losing weight so rapidly?"

Arthur often found himself remembering when he realized his father was sick. They'd been in the middle of a simple, regular meeting that really just served as an easy way to gather reports from around the kingdom... and despite the commonality of the meeting, his father couldn't seem to comprehend any of it.

"... and that's why the people of this sect are demanding higher wages."

Uther had looked to Arthur, who was in the room with him, then to the people gathered on the computer screen. "People," he swallowed as if his throat had suddenly become dry. "Demanding... what?"

"Higher wages, you're highness."

"Uh-huh."

Arthur barely had any time to catch him before he toppled sideways in his chair.

Instead of the deepest of Britain's problems going to Uther, as they always had done before, three of the kingdom's most trusted officials sat Arthur down and hesitantly, but firmly briefed him on the severity of it all. Whatever disease held him in its clutches, it must have done so for a very, very long time. The way he'd been running things so far simply made no sense.

Even though his grief, Arthur was aware enough to feel a sense of dread fall over him. The kingdom he thought he knew everything about had secrets darker than he'd ever dreamed. Arthur thought back to all of the conspiracy theories he'd read in the deepest rabbit-holes on Google and wished they were true. It would be easier to dig himself out of Satan's grip than it would be to rescue his kingdom from this pestilently grave situation.

"We've got schools everywhere, what do you mean my people are uneducated?"

"Sir," started a man Arthur swore he'd never seen before. Accolon, his name was. "Uther, his parents and his great grandmother before him both held up the decree that the people be..."

Angry now, Arthur couldn't help the harsh tone of his voice. "Be what, Accolon?"

"Misled, at best, sir."

A woman spoke up, saying what Accolon could not. "It used to be that we just twisted the facts now and then, keep the people confused to avoid a revolt, but recently we've gotten psychologists in and, well, they're not just uneducated, they're groomed."

"There's just one thing I don't understand," Arthur had told them. "If this is all true, then why are we still making progress? Did you lie to me about that, too?"