It Could Never Be
Merlin could see the love in his eyes, and it burned inside him as well, but he couldn't forget for even one moment that Mordred would become the enemy.
He couldn't lose himself in the dark curls in which he intertwined his fingers as he got ready to sleep, or the light pink mouth that would kiss him awake in the morning. He couldn't focus on the pretty cheekbones that looked very much like his or the large shoulders that straightened beneath him as they both gasped for release.
Merlin did love him, but it was not enough – it would never be enough. Arthur and Albion would always come first. He felt Mordred's hurt in his touch, and in his silent smirks, but there was no way it could be any different.
If Arthur was the other side of his coin and Morgana the darkness to his light, Merlin's destiny was footprints in the sand and Mordred was the sea, washing it all away.
As the days grew darker and the nights grew longer, Merlin tried, as much as he could, to give Mordred all he deserved – to keep him by his side, to keep him from the path he would inevitably walk, but in the end, it wasn't enough. Merlin's passion was never as full as Mordred wanted, and he couldn't give him all he wanted.
He couldn't hate him, not when he knew himself to be guilty of his treason, not when he knew he had been selfish enough to keep himself from having it all in his fear to loose what he didn't even have. It broke them from inside, as fate would always do. Merlin's desperate wish to keep Mordred around with less than what he deserved was what sent him away in hurt in the end.
They could never be truly together – but nothing could resist them being apart.
Fate always wins in the end.