A/N: T for BAMFery, as Ultra-Geek says. And for some (very) minor language. Sorry, I really hate swearing, but BAMF!Uther didn't feel right without it. Forgive me? I'll try not to do it again.
Uther's Crowning Moment
By Kitty O
Of course, when the evil sorcerer burst into the room, used an (amateur) spell to freeze almost everyone in the room, and began to use his magic willy-nilly, Merlin planned on doing something. And when the sorcerer used magic to yank Arthur from his chair and began blasting the prince all about the room, yelling something about revenge at Uther, Merlin naturally planned to put a stop to it.
One thing stopped him.
No, not the king's presence. Something else.
When the sorcerer first burst into the room, Uther cowered back in his chair and yelled for the guards. Arthur had gone for his sword (it had been pulled away), but Uther and the rest of the people milling about the room were defenseless. Who expects the royal family to be attacked while they are sitting on their thrones in the middle of the day? They gray-haired king, going pale, had been trying to bluff his way out of this, though he probably guessed that the guards were unconscious or dead.
But as Arthur was bodily lifted into the air and thrown against the floor, that changed. Merlin took a step forward. Arthur hollered and tried to find something to use as a weapon, but he was just tossed against the wall. The room watched silently, frozen by fear, surprise, or the magic. Not Uther. Uther was staring with eyes narrowed into thin lines, his fist clenching, his scar standing out like a sore thumb against his forehead. Merlin felt the magic holding him shatter like a window hit with a rock. A large rock.
Uther was staring at what was happening. That sorcerer, magic-user, outlaw was hurting his son. His only son. Ygraine's child.
Magic had taken his wife from him. Magic had ruined so much for Uther. Usually, Uther knew, Arthur could take care of himself. But there was no way Arthur would be hurt by anything while Uther just sat there. No, Arthur was the child of Uther Pendragon.
Who dared touch the child of Uther Pendragon?
Oh, that worthless piece of magical scum; right.
Anger like he hadn't felt since his wife's death rose up in the back of Uther's throat, and he heard his knuckles crack in their leather gloves. He fixated in on the threat, standing silently while his face contorted into a mask of determination and rage.
It was terrifying.
That was what kept Merlin in place.
That was what kept him still as the sorcerer laughed at Arthur's plight.
The king had this one under control.
The sorcerer was still giggling like a fool, his back to the throne. Arthur was using the curtains to try to keep himself in place, but he was being torn away from them with magic. He cursed, embarrassed and hurting… especially his head and ribs. Why wasn't anyone doing anything? And where was his sword?
Gleeful, the sorcerer with gold eyes and a hand held up in Arthur's direction called over his shoulder, "Are you seeing this, Sire? Are you watching?"
To his surprise, the answer was right next to his shoulder. "Yes."
Turning slightly in surprise, the sorcerer had a very hasty introduction to the king's leather-covered fist. For Uther pulled back as far as he could and just let his hand fly, and the sorcerer's head snapped back.
The next thing anyone knew, the sorcerer had flown backward, ricocheted off the wall behind him with a crack, and sunk to the ground, senseless.
Arthur regained his balance and straightened his shirt with dignity, walking over to his father. Uther looked up, feeling the anger fade as he rubbed his stinging knuckles, and thought for a second that he caught the prince's manservant giving him a smile of approval as he stepped back, his aid unneeded.
"Um…" Arthur's hand descended on his shoulder. "That was… well-placed, Father."
Uther looked at him. "Did I break his jaw?"
Arthur moved away and checked the unconscious sorcerer. "No."
Uther looked over his son and saw a bit of blood trickling from the side of his mouth. He was holding his side like it hurt there. "Oh," said the king. "Well, damn this old battle wound." He rubbed his shoulder. "It really takes away from the power. You'll want to see Gaius, Arthur."
Looking around, father and son noticed that everyone seemed to be staring at them with mouths ajar. (Well, with the exception of Merlin, who was grinning as always, and Uther didn't find it cheeky for once, but rather gratifying.)
"Well?" prompted the king, his voice dry, gesturing at the crumpled sorcerer. "Somebody arrest this filth, will you?"
A/N: Because Uther needed a crowning moment of awesome, you know he did! And he is rather protective of his boy. You know he would do this if provoked. Well review and tell me what you think of BAMF!Uther.