The Madness of King Uther (open)

[kinguthersqueen]

Uther lay restless in his bed after Gaius and the servants had brought him there from where he'd been found, crying out and trembling, eyes wide with unseeing fear. Over and over he was bombarded, figures and ghosts haunting him, some entitiy obviously having seen fit to torment him with visions of past victims.

He saw young children, drowned in years past because they had been magic users, and other victims who burned, or were beheaded. They did not speak, just stood, tormenting him with their presence. He could not understand, though, the vision of Ygraine. Was he truly guilty of killing her by going to Nimueh even though it was risky? He could not have known she would be the price! And yet she stood, dry once, then wet, taunting and bombarding him to the point that he was senseless.

The images manifested again, several of them this time. Uther lunged blindly from the bed, screaming and lashing out.

"WHO ARE YOU? GO AWAY FROM ME! LEAVE ME IN PEACE!"

Uther crashed about the room blindly, furniture and decorations clattering and crashing and sometimes breaking as he blindly lashed out, desperate to stop the visions that were seen only to him, continuing to scream as he did so. He could not see the hanging root beneath his bed, the source of all his anguish and pain.

Servants were there now, trying to get him back to his bed. But he had reached his sword now. He could not get his legs under him, was too badly shaken to stand, but he crouched near a wall, slashing and yelling at anyone brave or foolish enough to come near to him. The servants could not get close without being harmed.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU! YOU WILL TORTURE ME NO LONGER!

Reality and fantasy were blended in his mind,the boundry between long ago broken down. He would have to be helped soon, or he would become a complete madman, unable to rule and leaving Arthur to rule in his stead. Camelot would be vulnerable to attack.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur was not sure how it happened. He had initially thought his father had been terribly drunk, but things were escalating to a whole new level. How did one suddenly become like this? It was not natural. There was no progression of any sort of mental instabilities . . . and now, at a time when they should be rejoicing over the return of Morgana, his father had quite frankly, lost it. Arthur was terrified for him. He needed him to get better. He did not feel prepared to take on the role of king, even if it was just acting king and he could only desperately hope that it would not be a permanent position any time soon. He feared for his father; he feared for the kingdom, and the pressure was becoming too much.

He was on his way to see how Uther was doing when he heard a bit of commotion. Falling things, screams and shouts . . . Arthur quickly rushed in to see a few servants, and his father, in the corner, armed with a sword as if he would attack anyone who got too close. Arthur could not stand seeing his father in this way. The man he admired, one he knew was strong and filled with confidence, was now cowering in the corner, crying, seeing things that were not there. It was a devastating scene, but Arthur composed himself enough to not break down in front of the servants . . . or even his father.

He held his hand out, slightly behind him as if warning the servants not to move any closer. "Leave us," he demanded and it did not take them long to scurry out of the room, whispering among themselves and clearly a bit hesitant to leave them alone. He did not want any of them to get hurt, and he would try to talk to his father on a more personal level. He still respected the man, no matter what and so did not want to speak openly to him in the presence of others . . . which was something he rarely did anyway when his father was in good health. "Father," he began to say, trying to make his tone as calming as possible. "Please, put the sword down." He hated this, having to talk to his father as if he was a child when he knew the strength the man had.

[kinguthersqueen]

"I tire of being tormented! I will not stop until they are destroyed!" the king snapped.

He tried to force himself to believe Arthur was real-the specters had not taken the form of the living as yet, only of the dead. He tried to fix himself on his son, hoping against hope that it...he...was one gleaming reality in the midst of so much confusion. He still muttered softly, Ygraine's name occasionally being heard among the ramblings. He moved forward, still clutching the blade in his hand, trying to get around Arthur.

"Move aside, Arthur, I must destroy them. I must find a way to make them stop!" he said. "You must see them...I am NOT mad! They are clear....THERE!

His eyes went wide again and he did drop the sword, screaming at the dripping apparition in front of him. he was panting heavily, "No...please no...Ygraine..."

He cried out, shrill screams of unsuppressable terror, stumbling backward, unware of whether he was crashing into Arthur or not. and then he was on the ground, beyond response, beyond communication. The rambling and muttering continued, but the world around him was shut off, his mind trying to escape the horror being foisted on it.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Arthur looked to see where his father was pointing. While he expected nothing to be there, he still wished that something had been there. It would mean his father was not mentally afflicted with . . . well, with whatever he had. When he moved closer to him, Arthur kept his gaze directed on the king, trying to hold him back, and hoping he would not take a swing at him with that sword. He did not think he would be able to fight his father. The only time he had, it was fueled by anger . . . and Arthur would never make that same mistake twice.

That was when he heard her name. Ygraine. To hear Uther say that one word was highly uncommon as it was. He never spoke of his mother, and now, for him to be seeing her? What did that mean? It only made him even more worried and devastated for the king. "There's no one there father!" He said, his voice a bit more firm now, though it was not yelling. There was an underlying plea in it for him to ease himself and not be on the offensive . . . though he seemed ready to attack just about anything.

When he collapsed, Arthur rushed to his side, kneeling next to him. He still seemed conscious, and yet totally unresponsive. "Father?" He asked, desperately needing him to get better. "Can you hear me? I am going to move you to the bed." Arthur slowly took the sword away from Uther and threw it to the other side of the room so that it would be out of reach. He wanted to wait for his father to respond before helping him up, as he could not lift the king on his own, and did not want anyone else to be in the room. He knew it would wound his father's pride, even if he did not realize it now.

[kinguthersqueen]

Uther didn't resist Afthur's efforts, even though he didn't offer a great deal of response, either. He was simply too out of it at the moment to fully differentiate reality from his delusions. He heard the voice as though from a distance, soft, struggling to break through the delirium. He tried to focus on the voice, like a beacon, but his distraught mind wouldn't let him fully believe that what he was seeing was truly Arthur.

One of the servants had gone to tell Gaius what was going on, and the physician was there now, just outside the door, but hesitated to enter without permission from Arthur. It wasn't entirely clear what was wrong with the king, but Uther was obviously suffering. Gaius simply refused to let himself think the worst, knowing what the consequences would be. He rapped on the doorframe as Uther was letting himself be helped to his feet.

"Sire? I should tend to him...with your permission, of course."

[Arthur Pendragon]

Not hearing his father react only increased his worry so he was extremely relieved when he heard Gaius' voice offering his services. He was a trusted physician and friend and if there was anyone who would be able to help his father in his way to recovery, it was him. "Gaius," he greeted, in a solemn tone. "Yes please," he urged looking from the physician back to his father. "He had another violent episode. He saw images again and . . . " Arthur hesitated a bit before continuing. "He spoke my mother's name," he added in a low voice.

He did not understand the root or pattern of these visions. Where were they coming from? Would they ever go away? Would he live the remainder of his life, fearful of these illusions? Arthur desperately needed him to get better. He could not rule this kingdom without him. He needed the king . . . he needed his father to get better. "Help me move him to the bed," he said as he began to put one of Uther's arms around his neck for support. "It will be easier to treat him there." Instead of lying on the cold floor.

[kinguthersqueen]

Gaius did as Arthur asked, going around to Uther's other side and helping Arthur get him up. He didn't like what the evidence before him was indicating. Mental afflictions were always harder to treat or even diagnose a cause for than physical injuries. And the human mind had long been mysterious to most physicians through history. He could do something to relieve the king's suffering, but he hoped that it would not end there. Camelot would be ripe for the conquering with only Arthur, promising as he was, caring for it.

He studied Uther, and also spoke to him, despite not knowing if he could hear.

"Sire, we're going to help you to bed. Can you hear us at all?"

He got no response, though, from the king.

"There could be a number of causes for something like this...I will give him something to calm him, and I'll work as quickly as possible to try and find out what's wrong, but mental afflictions are always more difficult to diagnose and treat than physical ones. Especially given that it could be either physical or mystical. You said that he has been seeing images, and that he spoke of your mother...can you think of anything else unusual that you've noticed?"

Uther barely responded and did not seem to notice much of what was going on as he was put on the bed. He was still looking around, rambling, crying out every now and then. He curled up on the bed, much as he had when he lay on the floor a few moments ago.

Gaius did not find anything physically wrong as he examined Uther more closely, so he knew that he was going to have to consult his books, determine if anything matched what Uther was experiencing. He got to work with some of the things he'd brought, mixing something to at least give the king some rest while he tried to find a cure. He turned to Arthur for help.

"Sire,Help me get him to drink this, it will calm him and hopefully make him sleep, at least for a while. It is the best I can do until I find out what's causing this."

[Arthur Pendragon]

With the help of Gaius, they managed to get his father on the bed. Arthur looked at him. He knew that his father would not find sleep easily which would be the only way to give him peace. He would probably still be seeing things, just as he did when he was awake. Arthur took a step back, so that Gaius could properly examine him, as he thought about his question. There were so many things out of the ordinary, where could he begin? It terrified him that even Gaius, the most knowledgeable and experienced physician, did not know what caused this and how to treat it. He still had hope that he would, as he was not about to give up on his father.

As Gaius mixed the necessary substances, Arthur began to collect his thoughts enough to answer his question. "He just keeps talking of seeing images; ones that torment him. He tries to fight them but it is with great fear." His father was a brave man; even in the midst of battle, he never charged or defended himself with cowardice. It was always with courage, so that was something Arthur found very troubling. "I have never seen him this afraid in my entire life Gaius," he told him, in a sad tone, with great worry. It was too difficult to hide his emotions right now, even though he knew he would have to remain strong for the sake of the people.

"And just the fact that he spoke my mothers name. He never speaks of her; why would he be seeing her now amongst all the other images that are causing him so much terror and torment?" He did not understand it, and he knew that he could not expect Gaius to delve into his father's mind in this condition and explain everything. He then went closer to Gaius to take the potion he had made for him. Anything he could do to help his father he would do without a moments hesitation. He was not sure if his father was awake or asleep so he looked down at him. "Father? Gaius has made you something that will help you sleep." It was as if he was talking to a child; it was his father! It was the King of Camelot! Whatever caused this, needed to be eliminated and undone immediately.

[kinguthersqueen]

"As I said,sire, I will have to do some research, but I do have suspicions. The onset seemed quite sudden, and he doesn't appear to have suffered any sort of head injury."

There was no evidence of any physical injury to Uther's head, no bruised or bloodied areas, and Arthur certainly would have mentioned such an injury, if Uther had not requested his services himself.Stubborn as he was, Uther would not likely try to ignore something that could endanger the entire kingdom if it were left untreated.

"I fear that someone is using magic against him somehow. I am going to investigate both physical and mystical possibilities until I'm certain, but it is definately a possibility. There are illnesses of the mind that can certainly cause such delusions, but they don't usually have such a sudden and severe onset, and he has no evidence of any blows to the head. But, there are any number of plants, magical objects, spells...that is what will be the difficult part, but hopefully I can narrow it down. I do not intend to stop until I find something, sire, because the alternative is unthinkable."

The physician was well aware of what would happen if Uther remained ill, and word got out that Camelot's king was incapacitated. Arthur was a capable warrior, but he was young and inexperienced when it came to actually running a kingdom, and Gaius didn't know if he was capable of fending off an enemy invasion all on his own. Camelot could well be destroyed.

Uther himself was marginally aware as the potion was brought to his lips and he was coaxed into swallowing it. It didn't taste all that wonderful, but it did soon bring him into a more restful sleep state. There could be no defense against any nightmares the mandrake might induce, but at least for a while, Uther's mind would hopefully be soothed. He hadn't fought the sleep much when it had come, had welcomed its relief.

[Arthur Pendragon]

Whatever head injury the king had, it was all internal. As Arthur listened to Gaius`explanation of the possibilities, a part of him was slightly relieved and more hopeful, when Gaius said that he believed it was magic. Whatever magic they had encountered, they usually managed to find a remedy for it. If it was 'natural' -- though there was nothing natural about this at all -- and Gaius could not determine what it was, then there would be no hope. His mind would deteriorate and leave the Kingdom with out a King . . . except for him. But that was not even an option Arthur was considering right now.

This entire thing only reaffirmed Arthur of how evil magic was; how destructive it was. He realized that when Morgause had manipulated an image of his mother to speak lies, but now . . . to target the king . . . it was not all that surprising but it was enough to make Arthur enraged at whoever caused this. "Thank you Gaius," Arthur said in an extremely sincere voice. He appreciated everything Gaius did, but this in particular was a delicate matter. He knew the physicians knowledge in both medicine and magic was vast so he did hold his rightful hope in him. "I trust that you will find a cure for this . . . you must." It wasn't an order or demand, it was more as a way to give Arthur that reassurance that he needed. He was convincing himself that his father had to get better; that as Gaius had said, the alternative was unthinkable. Both him and Gaius had their own pressures to deal with, with his father being incapacitated.

Once his father drank the liquid, Arthur pulled up the blanket to cover him so that he would not be cold during the night and therefore, be more comfortable. "Do you need to do anything else?" He asked him, wondering if there were any more examinations that Gaius needed to do. "I will stay with him during the night, and inform you if anything changes or becomes more severe." Arthur had no intention of sleeping tonight. Whatever few minutes he could catch were a blessing and even then, they were far from peaceful. There was far too much to deal with to allow the serene escape of sleep consume him. How could he rest when it was impossible for his father to.

[Deleted]

Gaius was well aware of the devastating possibilities such a magical effect could wind up committing, for surely it was magic. He didn't see another possibility. The only problem was who did it? Or even more so, what was tying Uther to these dreams? There had to be a catalyst for this, something that, if destroyed, would reverse the effects upon the king, and therefore free him from the nightmares that he was having. If only they could find that, then there would surely be a simple answer to all of this.

When Arthur spoke, thanking him, saying he had to find a cure, he gently laid his hand on the Prince's shoulder, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. He was confident that, no matter how long it took, he would find something to help. Merlin could help, surely. The boy always surprised him in his magical knowledge, and the things he found. But for now, he thought that he should better assess the situation, just in case he was missing anything vital. "Don't worry, my boy, I am sure that there is a simple solution that is eluding us. I will find a way to save him, you can count on that."

He glanced back at his friend, at the man he had served for more than twenty years now. Yes, he had to find a solution, a cure, to fix whatever was wrong. "If you wouldn't mind, sire," he said, moving to stand beside Arthur at the bedside. "I think I would like to stay here just a bit longer to make sure I am not missing anything vital that might help me find a remedy." If Arthur protested, he wouldn't argue much, for, as of now, Arthur was in charge in his father's incapacitated stead.