Diary of Queen Guinevere
The 3rd day of March of the year 537
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The King is dead.
I should go on to narrate all of his good deeds. Perhaps relate his good will and generosity or of the battles and deeds he had accomplished over the course of the long and fruitful life. But that would be a lie. He was not noble or kingly. He was a tyrant. The kingdom would surly have fallen if not for the efforts of the council and myself. I am sure, however, that there are people out there already writing records of his greatness. No. I refuse to let my husband, if I must call him that, be known as a noble king.
Let it be known that Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther, was a coward and a ruin to the kingdom.
Never before was there such a man who was more interested in the bottom of a keg then in the affairs of his own house. If there was a time he was coherent, servants would cower in the alcoves to avoid his wrath. Knight would avoid his rooms so that they would not be accused of treason for the lack of ale. Not that he was any kinder when he had been drinking, simply more tolerable and easily avoided.
Every night he would have a different woman in his bed. Sometimes they were servant girls, sometimes women from the village. But more often they were the wives and daughters of the nights and nobility. None of them could refuse him, for if they did they, and often their entire families, would be found the next morning dead and mutilated. If one happened to fall pregnant from his advances he would take her into the palace. Then he would proceed to pamper her and ensure her health. But, as soon as the child was born, not a minute after the first cry, the woman would be gone, left to fend for herself. If the babe was a girl, she would be left outside the city walls, a son would be raised in the castle. I myself am not free from this. Arthur had seen my beauty once, when visiting my father. He came back a week later and killed my entire family and forced me to wed him. I have lost many children to his cruelty. He also took his sister, Morganna, claiming her beauty was overwhelming and had enchanted him. Though he did not know it, she fell pregnant. The council and I helped her flee before the king could tell. She gave birth to young Mordred. He is now the saving grace of our kingdom.
He did more to damm the kingdom then spending all his money on liquor, luxury, and women. Our land is one that thrives on magic and Arthur took pleaser in wiping that magic out. He ordered hunts to slaughter herds of unicorns, the fay folk, dragons, and so many more. He ordered the execution of Merlin and Morgan Le Fay (who was also his sister), saying that they practiced arts that were bringing destruction to the kingdom.
It is safe to say that no one in the kingdom will be sad when news spread further beyond the walls of Camelot.
Eventually, his bustard son, Mordred, challenged Arthur on the battlefield. They fought for a very long time. In the end both struck each other through the gut with their swords, a treatable wound if acted upon quickly enough. We knowable in the healing art rushed to Mordred. We had heard from his mother that he was a worthy heir to the throne. We left Arthur there on the ground.
Now I will end this by saying this.
Long live the king
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Sometimes going analogue is the only way to go by Tobias Vemmenby flicker |
Author's Note- I truly do not know where this came from. I was reading about King Arthur and thought--as I was reading about his death-- what if history got it wrong. What if Mordred was the good guy and Arthur was a really nasty one? Somehow this rush job came to be. I apologize. I know its not my best work.
