I would like to point out that I don't hate Arthur. I just think he's a prat, and I might have taken it a bit further than canon. This story is an answer to a prompt I got on tumblr a while ago. Hopefully the prompt-tee will enjoy it!
(Also for people waiting patiently for me to update my other stories, I promise I will at some point. I'm simply in a rut with all of them. I honestly have no idea where I want them to go now.)
His face is dripping with sweat. It was running down his forehead, between his brow, down the bridge of his nose, and at last falling of the edge of the tip.
Merlin knows that Mordred works hard. Knows that he fights to keep up with the others, get to the level that the more experienced knights are at, and finally win their respect. On the nights they spend together, the young man sometimes speak of his future as a knight, his dreams to become the best protector Camelot had ever seen. On those nights their loving is tender and sweet.
That day Arthur was being extra horrible. Merlin reckoned that Arthur was always horrible, most of all to Merlin, but this day was a particularly bad one. Gwen was ill and as it was usually the Queen's job to appease the King, the task had gone to Merlin instead. And gone rather unfulfilled It was usually Gwen's job to be the voice of reason that kept Arthur from chocking Merlin to death, or make his knights practice until they either couldn't walk off the field and had to be carried, or until one of them got badly enough injured, so even Arthur couldn't deny that it was time to stop.
Personally Merlin had been buried in work all day. He was currently polishing all of Arthur's armours, (honestly, Merlin had no idea why the King needed three armours that all looked the same?), while watching the knights practicing in the burning midday sun. Arthur himself, had gone for the moment, to check on his wife, leaving the knights to practice on their own.
Merlin was mainly watching Mordred, which he knew the younger warlock would tease him about later (Merlin had never been very good at hiding their relationship), who was currently fighting Sir Gwaine. Mordred was keeping surprisingly well up with the more experienced knight, holding his own more than well.
As it was, however, Sir Gwaine had many years of sword fighting on Mordred, and soon knocked him down with a move that Gwaine would later on admit, had been dirty.
Merlin watched as the older knight helped a laughing Mordred up from the ground, and both of them soon moving on to the sidelines to watch the other knights instead. It was quite clear that the older knight had quickly become taken with the newest addition to the Camelot protectors. Acting as a friendly, although often 'bullying' as well, guide for the younger man, Gwaine and Mordred's friendship had grown quickly. Something that Merlin was immensely grateful for.
Merlin's eyes trailed his lover as he moved across the training grounds with Gwaine, towards some maids that Gwaine had, no doubt, spotted and dragged the young man along with him to meet. Merlin watched as Mordred was his usual charming and kind self, speaking with a beautiful blonde girl his own age. Merlin felt a twinge in his stomach as he saw the girl throw her head back, laughing loudly at something that Mordred had said. Merlin had to bite his lip, in order to control himself, as she rested her slim hand on the druid's shoulder, caressing the patch of bare skin by Mordred's neck, as he let her do so.
Mordred looked to him, perhaps sensing a flare in Merlin's magic, the older warlock never really understood how the druid had become so attuned to him, sending him an apologetic smile, but quickly moving back to the girl, continuing to speak with the blonde, who fluttered her eyes at him so much that even Merlin could tell it from across the grounds. This time his stomach tied itself together in big, angry knots, as he watched his lover devote all of his attention to another.
"GWAINE! Mordred!" Both of the knights and Merlin jumped as Arthur's voice bellowed towards them, "What the hell are you standing there for? Get over here!"
All of the knights had gathered around Arthur, who was speaking to them. They were too far away for Merlin to hear what the King spoke of, he did, however, hear Arthur proclaiming that Sir Gwaine and his friend Sir Mordred had kindly volunteered themselves to show the other knights whatever Arthur had just told them.
Merlin couldn't help a small smile at that.
Mordred and Gwaine began their fight, both keeping well up with the other. Merlin could tell that Mordred gave it his uppermost now that he knew that the King was watching him, and that Gwaine did the same.
With a sigh, Merlin turned back to polishing Arthur's armour, only looking up once in a while to glance at how the fight was progressing. Mordred had the upper-hand.
Merlin didn't even know why he did it, to be honest. All he knew was that at a perfect moment for Mordred to win, Merlin's eyes flared and suddenly Mordred slipped in a pile of mud, falling down and dropping his sword. Leaving Gwaine the winner of the fight and Mordred covered in mud.
It took Mordred's glaring blue eyes at him and the other knights' laughter, for Merlin to realize that what happened was, in fact, his fault.
Chapter two will be up some time later. I've run out of writing time, so this will have to be a two-part.
Be warned. Smut in next chapter!