Mistaken Identity

- 14 -

As the guards finished securing him to the stake, Arthur let his head rest against the smooth wood as his hands worked ceaselessly on the rope binding them. He hated the sympathy in their eyes, hated the uncertainty in the spectators. But most of all, he hated the contempt that lined every feature of his father's face as Uther glared coldly down at the man he had once called his son.

He had known, right from the start, that it would end like this. The little hope Merlin had brought him was futile. Gwen and Morgana were too late. It was over. I'm going to die.

Uther looked different when he spoke to the people, his voice like a distant hum in Arthur's ears. His face was so hard, so cold, so unforgiving that Arthur found it difficult to believe that this man was his father. He was beginning to realise what it had felt like for all those sorcerers that Uther had executed. All those other people who had seen Uther's face from this perspective had died.

But Arthur refused to die like this. Refused to let Uther's scowl be the last thing he'd ever see.

He didn't want his father to tear himself apart like this.

Still trying to twist his hands free of the tight ropes that bound them, he struggled to free himself. He had to buy Gwen and Morgana as much time as possible. They were his only hope.

Clawing at the rope until his nails were broken and his fingers bled, Arthur eventually felt the line give slightly. Doubling his efforts, he gave the rope one last tug and was free.

He wasted no time in slipping his hands from the rope and jumping from the pyre. Knocking the first guard unconscious while he was still too stunned to move via a swift blow to the temple, Arthur grabbed the man's sword and ran.

The people gathered in the square gasped and murmured as the very man they had come to see executed ran down the street. They backed away from the Prince, with no idea what to do about the situation they had found themselves in.

Arthur could hear the shouts of guards behind him and Uther's outraged "Catch him!", but he ran on. He knew he could not escape the King's men forever, he knew he would be caught. He could only hope that his actions would buy enough time for Morgana and Gwen to get to Uther before the furious king ordered him killed on sight.

Sprinting to the nearest refuge, he ducked into the house of a very startled peasant as a herd of guards thundered by. Once they had passed, he nodded to the woman before continuing his dash through the lower town.

He needed somewhere to hide. Thinking quickly, he headed towards Gwen's house. But just as he skidded around the last corner, he found himself face to face with a very tall, very angry looking guard. Damn.

Stepping back, he raised his sword. But another stepped quietly up behind him and knocked it from his grasp before he could spin around. Quickly and mercilessly they restrained the Prince, and he was led back to where his father was waiting. Had it been long enough? He didn't think so. But at least he would go down fighting.

— — —

Uther Pendragon was filled with rage and shaking with anger. Arthur's futile attempts to get away had only hardened his heart. He had proved his guilt. This had to end now. For the good of the kingdom.

He watched without pity as the guards dragged the prisoner back onto the pyre. "Goodbye Arthur." He whispered to himself. "Let us hope that your spirit suffers eternally in Hell for this treachery."

He knew that no matter what it seemed on the outside, inside he was breaking apart into thousands of pieces. And if he shattered, it would be impossible to put him back together.

So he could not shatter. This was for the good of his kingdom. And if he didn't put his kingdom first, then he was not fit to be King. He'd thought that he had taught that to Arthur, too. Clearly he had been wrong.

He was broken from his thoughts by Arthur's voice. "I haven't done anything! You can't do this; I'm innocent! You're turning into a monster!"

"I am doing it this for the good of the kingdom. You of all people should understand." He gestured to the torch-bearer. "Do it."

"No, please, you can't do this!" Arthur struggled against the ropes, desperation lighting his eyes. "Father!"

Uther averted his eyes. He could not watch the death of the prisoner - no, the death of his son. But he had no choice. "Forgive me." he murmured. "I love you, Arthur." Or at least I used to.

"At least look me in the eye as you kill me." Arthur's voice was calmer, colder. As though he had shut his emotions away and accepted his fate.

Uther turned and smirked. "I'm afraid that won't be possible. All the flames get in the way."

"Then look at me now, please."

Uther's eyes were cold. "And why should I do that?"

"Because I love you, Father. Is that not enough for you?"

Uther's cold heart broke.