REGICIDE ➳ MERTHUR

chapter one

Uther was dead.

News of the king's death rang through the entire kingdom, alighting fear in the hearts of some and relief in others. But it wasn't only the death of the king that spread rumors of the new ruler who would preside over Camelot, word had it that the king had been killed in cold blood. The new ruler's men had done it without any remorse, fueled with thoughts of magic returning to the kingdom in full force. After that day, an ominous presence stood over Camelot and would not recede, for even if the sun shined high, the citadel loomed over the citizens with its menacing aura.

They wondered who the new king was, and as the coronation hovered over their heads, they found no one truly knew who was to be the new king. Many thought it was the man who had caused all of the destruction of Camelot, who swept through the castle halls as if he really were the king, with greased hair and wearing his pelt of crow feathers over already black clothing. Servants addressed him as so, but whenever they pronounced him as my king, he would only laugh. He made no movement to declare who was king, however, confusing the entire kingdom.

There was also the fact that no one was allowed in the new king's chambers, except that man. Servants were not allowed to enter, and it caused curiosity to arise because of it. A few of them had tried to sneak in, once, but after they had successfully picked the lock and attempted to enter, the door blasted them away before re-locking itself. Afterward, the servants who had been injured could feel the power emanating from inside the room, as if threatening them to try again and see what would happen. They never did.

A week after the regicide, it was coronation day. Their new king would be revealed to them, and the castle servants scrambled in the kitchens and through the hallways to have everything prepared. They desperately hoped their new king wouldn't be a tyrant, wouldn't kill people for the sake of his own wicked game. From the door debacle, many of them had realized that the ban on magic was most likely going to be repealed, if the king used it himself. No one wanted to be particularly verbal about their opinions on magic, fearing they would start an argument between those followers of the new king and the others who still served under king Uther and his son, Arthur.

While Arthur's death hadn't been announced in the kingdom, many believed that he was dead. Only few were privy to the knowledge that he was now locked deep in the dungeons with orders to stay alive from the new king himself. There were several times he made an attempt on his own life, but Arthur found he couldn't kill himself even if he tried. A stolen sword from the guards shoved into his stomach only bounced off, without causing any pain whatsoever. It made him so angry, the inability to do anything for himself. He was being fed food for a king, his cell was more like a room at an inn, and though he couldn't leave, the knights under the new king had been forced to assure his comfort. His life was being decided by the man who had ordered his father's death. What did he want with Arthur? Why couldn't he just let him die?

Arthur was far from giving up, and lying on the fluffy, feather bed in his cell only made him more furious. Why was he being given all these luxuries when they'd killed his father? The only reason he could think of was that they wanted him to trust them before they killed him as ruthlessly as they had done his father. He didn't deserve to die, he was a fair and just king, Arthur thought. Aside from his father, he wondered for the people he cared for who were still alive—Morgana, Gwen, Merlin—he couldn't help but worry for all of their safeties. Morgana wasn't in the dungeons, hadn't been captured and Arthur dreaded to think of what they could have been doing to her.

Early that morning, Arthur was torn from his cell. He struggled in the knights' hold, but they wouldn't release him and he couldn't remove himself from their hold. He feared he'd grown weak, spending so many days in a cell. They dragged him through the halls of the castle like an animal on parade. Servants whispered to each other when they saw him, gasping at his dirty, unshaven state. Arthur tried his best to convey to them that the fight wasn't over, that he would take Camelot back for the Pendragon line—for his father. He couldn't understand why none of them looked ready to fight back alongside him.