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Nov. 11th, 2009 08:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oldwickedsongsTitle: An Offering of Nothing
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oldwickedsongs
Rating: G
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Spoilers: 2x07 “The Witchfinder”
Summary: The night before he is set to burn, Gaius receives a visitor.
The dungeons are dank and pitch black, and there is the smell of mold and decay that clings to the skin despite Uther’s robes, and heavy garments. Or maybe he imagines it. In truth Uther does not travel down here often, he has no need to. He sends people here to be forgotten and once that order is issued, he does just that. He has no need to be reminded. The King never has a reason to visit this place.
Tonight is different.
He could not sleep, and at first, he told himself it was because of the pain in his shoulder and not other matters. He had managed to lie there in bed for an hour before rising, and was not surprised to find the Castle shared his insomnia. Knights and servants congregated in the serving hall and throne room keeping hushed company with one another, and huddling like children would to dispel night terrors, or keep vigil for a parent’s return. No one seems at peace tonight. They rose silently and greeted Uther as he passes, and the guards hesitate when he dismisses them but do not disobey. In all things, the people do not always understand why he commands so but they trust him enough to obey.
All of them, even the man he visits tonight.
Uther is able to make it to the threshold of the dungeons and there he hesitates. From this angle, he can see the iron wrought gates but not inside them and from this area, he knows the prisoners cannot see him. Perhaps that is what makes him pause. When he approached, the warden rose and went for the keys. Uther needn’t ask to know which one he palmed expectantly, or why he watched the King with such intensity.
Even Uther is wondering where his voice has gone.
An order and it’s done. One way or another.
He can hear shuffling from the cell and the labored movements of an old man as he rose and walked to the gate. From this area even though Uther knows Gaius cannot see him, he can picture the look on the physician’s face. His mind can trace every line, and as his fingers curl around the bars; Uther can feel the touch on his shoulder. For such bravery in battle, and such willingness to stand alone; it was always unspoken how necessary a hand of comfort on his shoulder could be and it had always been a sign of complete trust that Uther would allow a servant- a sorcerer no less, to get so close when the King was unarmed.
And for all his doubts Uther cannot think for a moment of a time when he ever thought otherwise. Gaius has always been his friend, perhaps even a mentor at times; and his place by Uther’s side had once seemed as fixed as even Arthur and his servant. Uther can recall a hundred battles when they were like those two, and braver too. And more foolish.
The warden seems content to wait for as long as possible for some word, some part of perhaps the Prince’s kindness in his King; an ounce of mercy he and the rest of Camelot had become so accustomed to with Arthur
Uther cannot find his voice; not even to explain why he is not his son.
The main in the cell is not moving, he just stands there as always, awaiting Uther’s word. Obeying his every command, and never giving a moment’s rebuke. The King wonders for a moment what he would do if Gaius called to him…
He knows Gaius is aware of him. No one alive knows Uther better.
It’s that knowledge that forces Uther to retreat. He has never backed away from a battle, never shied away from an injury or hesitated in an order; not when he has been certain of that it was right. Uther has prepared himself for twenty years to be cold if necessary but now when he must do alone; he finds he cannot.
The warden’s eyes watch him as he surrenders, and Uther for his part can offer nothing.
Author:
oldwickedsongsRating: G
Pairing: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Spoilers: 2x07 “The Witchfinder”
Summary: The night before he is set to burn, Gaius receives a visitor.
The dungeons are dank and pitch black, and there is the smell of mold and decay that clings to the skin despite Uther’s robes, and heavy garments. Or maybe he imagines it. In truth Uther does not travel down here often, he has no need to. He sends people here to be forgotten and once that order is issued, he does just that. He has no need to be reminded. The King never has a reason to visit this place.
Tonight is different.
He could not sleep, and at first, he told himself it was because of the pain in his shoulder and not other matters. He had managed to lie there in bed for an hour before rising, and was not surprised to find the Castle shared his insomnia. Knights and servants congregated in the serving hall and throne room keeping hushed company with one another, and huddling like children would to dispel night terrors, or keep vigil for a parent’s return. No one seems at peace tonight. They rose silently and greeted Uther as he passes, and the guards hesitate when he dismisses them but do not disobey. In all things, the people do not always understand why he commands so but they trust him enough to obey.
All of them, even the man he visits tonight.
Uther is able to make it to the threshold of the dungeons and there he hesitates. From this angle, he can see the iron wrought gates but not inside them and from this area, he knows the prisoners cannot see him. Perhaps that is what makes him pause. When he approached, the warden rose and went for the keys. Uther needn’t ask to know which one he palmed expectantly, or why he watched the King with such intensity.
Even Uther is wondering where his voice has gone.
An order and it’s done. One way or another.
He can hear shuffling from the cell and the labored movements of an old man as he rose and walked to the gate. From this area even though Uther knows Gaius cannot see him, he can picture the look on the physician’s face. His mind can trace every line, and as his fingers curl around the bars; Uther can feel the touch on his shoulder. For such bravery in battle, and such willingness to stand alone; it was always unspoken how necessary a hand of comfort on his shoulder could be and it had always been a sign of complete trust that Uther would allow a servant- a sorcerer no less, to get so close when the King was unarmed.
And for all his doubts Uther cannot think for a moment of a time when he ever thought otherwise. Gaius has always been his friend, perhaps even a mentor at times; and his place by Uther’s side had once seemed as fixed as even Arthur and his servant. Uther can recall a hundred battles when they were like those two, and braver too. And more foolish.
The warden seems content to wait for as long as possible for some word, some part of perhaps the Prince’s kindness in his King; an ounce of mercy he and the rest of Camelot had become so accustomed to with Arthur
Uther cannot find his voice; not even to explain why he is not his son.
The main in the cell is not moving, he just stands there as always, awaiting Uther’s word. Obeying his every command, and never giving a moment’s rebuke. The King wonders for a moment what he would do if Gaius called to him…
He knows Gaius is aware of him. No one alive knows Uther better.
It’s that knowledge that forces Uther to retreat. He has never backed away from a battle, never shied away from an injury or hesitated in an order; not when he has been certain of that it was right. Uther has prepared himself for twenty years to be cold if necessary but now when he must do alone; he finds he cannot.
The warden’s eyes watch him as he surrenders, and Uther for his part can offer nothing.
