Hello people. It's been a while and I thought, well. It's my birthday. I thought I'd go the route of hobbits and give you a gift. Therefore, as I procrastinate on everything I do, I decided to leave it until today to actually write and post the damn thing. Sorry.

I would also like to thank every single one of you who decided to read this thing, and an extra special thanks to all those who reviewed, favourited and followed. You guys are awesome and make my day.

Uther Pendragon- Aged 16

Uther woke slowly to the sound of birdsong, the faint scent of wildflowers and the sensation of something heavy on his face. Mumbling, he squinted through one eye at the window to see that the sun wasn't up yet - the sky was still the pale grey of the pre-dawn - and rolled over, stuffing his face in a pillow.
The heaviness on his face moved.
Frowning, he sat up and pressed a hand against his cheek that came away smeared with a thick purple goo. Looking down, he saw that it was not only on his pillows, but coating the bedsheets and his arms. Judging by the stiffness of his hair, he was hardly surprised when the mirror showed him that it was not just his face that was purple.
In fact, the only part of him that seemed to have escaped was the skin covered by clothing or sheets.

Dumbfounded, he stared at the purple teen with wild hair that was his reflection, wondering how such a thing could have happened.

Trip to the tavern the night before. Ygraine had been there, hiding beneath a long cloak and laughing in the corner with one of her cousins. He'd wanted to go over, speak with her, make her laugh like that...but with his heart in his throat and his hands shaking, he'd barely been able to muster the courage to stand. Balinor, good friend that he was, had noticed Uther's anxiety and shoved a tankard of mead into his hands. And a second. And a third.
The rest of the night disappeared into a haze of drink after drink, heady confidence and rocking floors.

And then he'd awoken purple and smelling like a meadow in the early hours. Uther growled.
Someone would pay for this.

"Prince Uther's demanding that we bring up a bath." The head servant groaned.
"A bath? At this hour? Whatever for?" The maid shook her head.
"He wouldn't say, just demanded we bring a bath, soap, and leave without opening the door."
The servant paused. "He doesn't want help? What about breakfast?"
"Said that was to be left outside, too."
"Hmm."

Uther stared at his arms in disbelieving despair. Despite being pink and tender from repeated scrubbing with the soap, they were still purple.
Admittedly, the colour had faded somewhat, but the fact remained that his arms were still purple. No doubt his face, having received a far less vigorous scrubbing due to the sensitivity of the skin was still as purple as when he had awoken that morning. It didn't help that the harder he scrubbed, the stronger the smell had gotten, until Uther felt as though he had a bunch of flowers stuck up his nose. Glancing in the mirror, he groaned as he realised that the water had caused whatever was making his face purple to run down his face and bleed onto his chest, staining it lilac.
And the sun was up. Very up. He'd been sccurbbing for hours.

Sighing in defeat, he clambered out of the bath, staring mournfully at the purple water. Resigning himself to a day of mockery and many items of clothing, he got dressed and opened the door to fetch a servant to clean his chambers.

Ygraine was outside, a hand raised to knock.

For a moment, time stood still. Then Ygraine's face twitched, and she covered her smile with a hand.
Uther sighed.
"I don't suppose you happen to know where Balinor would be?" He asked. Smile wider, she shrugged.

"I don't, sorry." She said. She gestured to her face. "I suppose he's responsible?"

Uther scowled. "He was the one getting me drunk enough for it to happen. Whatever happened, I'm blaming him regardless." He paused.

"I don't suppose you'd be interested in helping me find him?" He said slowly.

She smiled.

-
The following week was wholly unremarkable save for Uther's purple skin and flowery scent following him in a cloud everywhere he went.

At least, until Balinor awoke with blue hair and emitting a pheromone that seemed to attract all the sparrows in the kingdom to flock him at every opportunity.

At the sound of his alarmed screams, Uther and Ygraine exchanged glances across the room and smiled.

Uther Pendragon- aged 19

"I cannot believe you fell asleep on your horse."

Uther sighed exasperatedly. "Shut up, Balinor."

Balinor sniggered from where he was sat by the campfire.

THe day had started off well, with remarkably good weather for autumn. Despite the chill in the air, the sky had been clear and the sun providing what warmth it could. Due to the mild weather conditions, Uther had, in his infinite wisdom, decided that a hunting trip was the best way to enjoy the day.

Listening to Balinor's snickering, he was rapidly coming to regret that decision.

He let out a long suffering sigh. "Yes, Balinor, I fell asleep on my horse. It's terribly amusing. The tale is sure to be told for years to come. Can we eat now?" He said, gesturing to the pot simmering in front of them. It contained their spoils for the day- a handful of rabbits, scared my the sound of Uther snagging his foot on a tree root and falling on his face with a crash. Balinor had been laughing too hard to catch them, and they would have escaped were it not for the fact they'd run into the snares that a servant had laid earlier.

Balinor shrugged. "Don't see why not. However," he waved his bowl and spoon with an air of triumph. "You will have to get your own spoon. It's in the pack on your saddle." Dismissing the conversation, he promptly ladled a generous portion into his bowl and sat back. Uther sighed, getting to his feet and trudging over to the horses, thankful that the day was nearly over and that there was very little left to go wrong.

This assessment changed when he opened the pouch only to be overun with several large rats.

Yelping, he jumped away only to find several of them had landed on him and were trying to find ways into his clothing. Yelling incoherently, he grabbed the one nipping at his ear and hurled it away.

It landed on one of the horses.

The horse, startled by the sudden presence of a family of large rodents in its general vicinity, became rather alarmed and bolted. This caused the rest of the horse, previously perfectly calm, to become alarmed and also bolt.

All of them headed in Uther's direction.

Swearing, he dropped the last of the rats on the floor. It gave an indignant squeak and trotted off into the underbrush. Uther, screaming to the heavens turned tail and ran, desperately trying to avoid death by horse. The first warning he had of the tripwire was when his foot snagged it and something thick, blue and powdery fell over his head. Scrambling to his feet, he lurched forward only to find air beneath his feet. He had a brief moment to contemplate the impossibility of this when he hit the water.

Spluttering, he resurfaced to find himself in the river that ran parallel to the camp. He'd managed to land in the deepest section, thankfully, and up on the bank he could see the horses being corralled by members of their expedition. SIghing with relief, he went to swim away.

A tugging on his ankle dunked his head back underwater. Resurfacing again, he found that the tripwire had managed to snag and wrap around his ankle, preventing him from moving. Following the cloth with his eyes, he saw the other end tied to a solid, old anvil.

Well. That complicated matters.

A guffaw caught his attention, and turning to the opposite bank he found Balinor giggling helplessly.

Uther let out a longsuffering sigh. He'd be hearing about this one for weeks.

Not entirely happy with this but it's written. If I didn't post it now I never would have.

Thanks to all of you. Have a good day!