It could have been far worse for Uther.
Based on deadliness, number of instances, likelihood, and supernaturalness
First of all, he could have been Vortigern. But, unlike that asshole, Uther was actually pretty good at this High King business. He was universally tolerated among the peasantry and gentry.
The nobility–all those lesser kings and princes and dukes–mostly tolerated him, as long as he didn’t look too closely at their taxes.
Secondly, for the first time since ever, the island of Britain wasn’t under the threat of a foreign invasion.
For one reason or another, all the nearby nations were all dealing their own issues to worry about the High Kingdom of Briton. Yet Uther found himself restless.
Actually, “restless” isn’t quite the right term. “Being forced to consistently roam the countryside because all your vassals are kind of jerks” is a little more accurate.
With Merlin at his side, Uther spent the better part of the year roaming the Kingdom. He settled old feuds and stopped new ones; taxes were collected, and immediately put the money to good use on public projects; and more often than not, Uther was judge, jury and executioner.
It’s all about results, man.
December
The right sneeze? Demons. (Source: Wikimedia Commons)
Uther woke up one morning with a terrible cold. Remember, these were the days where the wrong sneeze could kill you.
Merlin, who had some practical medical knowledge in addition to being wise in the ways of magic, sent away the court physicians and forbade Uther to leave his bed for a good few days.
“You’re going to ride yourself to death, and I can’t allow that,” Merlin said. “I’ve foreseen things.”
“But I’m only two days from West Saxony,” Uther said. “I can’t let the Saxons go unsupervised for too long. They start getting ideas.”
Merlin thought about this for a while. Finally, he said, “Instead of you running yourself down, why don’t you summon everyone here, to London?”
Uther sneezed. “Do you think they’ll come?”
“Why not?” Merlin said with a little shrug. “You’re the High King. They’re supposed to listen to you.”
February
And so, the summons went out. All the dukes and princes and lesser kings of Briton obeyed Uther’s command and gathered in London. Everyone went willingly–everyone except Gorloise, the Duke of Tintagel, who had to be persuaded (read: dragged along begrudgingly) by the other dukes of Cornwall.
As a sign of his appreciation, Uther held a grand tournament for his vassals, followed by an even grander feast.
Uther was in the middle of a (rather undignified and unking-like) drinking contest with Llewellyn of Rhos when he saw her.
He elbowed Llewellyn and, belching, pointed. “Who’s that?”
“Who?” Llewellyn asked. He swayed in his seat, trying to follow Uther’s gaze.
“Her,” Uther said.
She was a lady of poise and grace, such that Uther had never seen before. In short, she was the most beautiful woman Uther had ever laid eyes on. He was in love.
“That’s Igraine,” Llewellyn said after a long pause, remembering in his drunk stupor that his lord and king had asked him a question. “Duke Gorloise’s wife.”
“She’s hot,” Uther said.
“She’s married, my liege.”
“Yeah, but I’m the king.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, my liege.” Llewellyn signaled to a servant, hoping to occupy his monarch with another round of Drink the Mead.
“I’m going over,” Uther said.
Igraine, the Duchess of Tintagel, was willing to put up with Uther’s flirting for a time–he was her king, after all, and this was a time when one was obedient to one’s monarch. However, when Uther offered to show her the royal bedchamber, she declined.
“It was creepy,” Igraine said to Gorloise after the feast.
Gorloise glared. “That whinging, fucking–.”
“He’s still the king,” Igraine warned, “and we’re still in his castle. Watch what you say, my husband. Anyway, he was drunk–there’s no need to get upset. He’ll forget about it in the morning.”
Uther didn’t forget.
Throughout the next day’s events, he sent increasingly suggestive gifts to Igraine: things like furs and jewels and pear trees and milking maids.
That evening, Igraine and Gorloise agreed they had enough of this shit and peaced out of London.
March
Have you ever been so angry at someone that you’ve threatened physical violence? For most people, it’s just empty words–once they’ve calmed down, they realize they were overreacting.
Not so much for Uther. He immediately declared war on Tintagel. Not even Merlin could stop him.
Uther rounded up his favorite knights and by mid-March was in Cornwall, laying siege to Tintagel.
Two weeks into the siege of Tintagel, Uther sent for Merlin. “I can’t take this anymore. I have to see Igraine.”
“That’s only a lot creepy,” Merlin said. “Look, I’ve foreseen some stuff. I can get you into the castle tonight.”
Uther jumped up. “You can? How?”
“First, I need you to promise me something.”
“Anything!” Uther cried. “Anything you want or need is yours.”
Here’s the thing about sieging a castle: it sounds cool, but in reality is very boring. Basically, Army A goes and surrounds said castle, with Army B inside. A tries to get B to surrender the castle. B is all like, “Nah, we good.”
This goes on for days, even months, until one army gets bored enough to either give in or go home.
“OK, this is going to sound weird,” Merlin said, “but if I get you into the castle, there’s a good chance that Igraine will sleep with you. If you do get down with her tonight, there’s a really good chance that you two will conceive a kid. I need you to give that kid to me within an hour of his birth, and never speak of any of this again.”
“Yeah, that works,” Uther said. Admittedly, he had stopped paying attention halfway through Merlin’s speech. “I promise to do all the stuff you just said. Now, how are we going to get into the castle?”
This was good enough of a promise for Merlin. “So, I’m going to disguise you as Gorloise…”
Meanwhile, Gorloise had been watching Uther’s camp from the castle battlements. He saw Uther and Merlin ride away. This, he decided, was the perfect opportunity to launch a sneak attack on the King’s army.
It did not end well for Gorloise. As I mentioned earlier, Uther brought with him his best knights, and they promptly ended Gorloise’s life, thereby ending Uther’s little siege war.
Six months later, the widow Igraine reluctantly married the High King, and moved to London with her daughter, Morgause. A few months after that, on a cold late-December afternoon, she gave birth to a son.
Though his wife wept, Uther kept his promise to Merlin.
