Chapter 8; her smile

Mordreds' smile could light up a chamber and rival the sun its 'self. He loved her smile. When it was just because Mordred was happy, everybody looked and stared at her. Not for too long, they didn't want an angry Arthur on them, but for long enough. When Mordred smiled at you and you alone, you felt invincible. Like you could move mountains with a flick of your wrist, like you could stop an army single handily. You were a god when she smiled at you. If felt like she loved you and only you forever. My god. And Arthur loved that he was the one who could make her smile the most, those secret smiles that were just for him.

There were many different ways that Arthur could make his queen smile; a bowl of strawberries and cream before bed – him insisting on feeding her from his hand, multiple kisses over her face in the mourning – in between compliments and flattery about how amazing she was, a thorough rub after training – warm oil massaged into her shoulders mainly her left (the injured one), brushing her hair in the mornings and evenings – long and silky over his fingers falling past the chair almost to the floor, letting her sit on his lap when the knights gave their reports of patrols – rubbing circles on her stomach or lower back and kissing her face and hair whenever he could or when he was bored.

His favourite way to make her smile though was asking her for a magic show. Mordred never disappointed him. Fire, water, earth and air where used and it was spectacular. His personal preference was sitting on his bed on a mountain of pillows, his legs parted with his queen between them resting on him – back to front- showing him the memories of them together. From their first meeting in the snow to Mordreds' knighthood with her kneeling for him. Arthur wasn't afraid to push his fantasies forward in his brain so Mordred would show them. This lead to Arthur and Mordred acting out each and every fantasy. God Arthur would have never guessed that his sweet little druid had such a kink filled centre.

When they were done, no matter what act they had role played Mordred would always draw a hot bubbly bath from seemingly nowhere and Arthur would always pamper her and sooth her aches. Pepper her with kisses, wash her hair till it shines like diamonds, take his razor and shave where she wanted with no complaint. Arthur made sure Mordred did nothing after the acts. Nothing but get spoiled rotten. Dress her in her small clothes but instead of her hoes, slip one of his tunics over her. It was large enough to cover her to roughly her knees and only slipped of one shoulder at a time, revelling her collar bones but no lower. It suited her. Pampered and spoiled, Arthur would lower Mordred to bed and cuddle her till she fell asleep with a smile on her face.

God he loved this girl.