Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. Yet.
A/N: Not a native English speaker, so pardon me for any mistakes.
Enjoy.
Despite everything and everyone who seemed to think otherwise, Arthur is not totally stupid. Sure, he is mostly ignorant of what is going on around him but only because he prefers not to think about it. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
Finding out that your wife is not who you think she is was hard. Her, working with Morgana, was a blow to the heart. But why did you marry her in the first place? You went against your father and married a serving girl, who mattered to you as much as every bloody servant in that godforsaken kingdom.
Well, not every servant.
Thud.
Banging your head on the wall is not such a good idea but you were not supposed to think about him. You are a king, so behave like one! The only problem is that these images are forever burnt inside your skull and behind your eyelids, always there, like a dream. Yeah, more likely a nightmare.
flashback
It's all Gwen's fault. If she weren't so persistent on you being with her always and everywhere, you wouldn't have to sneak outside the walls to find a moment of peace.
The ground creaks under your feet and the first snow sparkles merrily. You walk quickly, hoping that some exercise will help you get your mind off of things. It is only after an hour or so that you notice fresh bootprints across your path. Your hand immediately rests on your hip, fingertips gently brushing the hilt of your sword. You bend your knees slightly, making yourself as invisible as possible, as quiet as possible, your breathing even and deep.
Then, you hear a quiet, muffled laugh and the sound startles you so much that you don't even move for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, a branch breaks somewhere near, and there is this laughter again, this time louder, free and oh, so familiar.
This is so typical. Merlin is goofing around again, probably half freezing to death and yet stupid enough not to notice. You sigh heavily and make a couple of steps, thinking up some special insults for your personal servant. But then, you see him and your heart stops.
You've never seen him smile like that. Sure, you've shared a lot of jokes and a lot of relief laughs after dangerous situations, but this? This is different.
It's like his smile is the sun. He looks at something in the far end of the clearing and shakes his head. His eyes sparkle as he takes a step forward, then another, a huge branch is suddenly in your field of vision and then you hear a yelp and a squeak.
Of course, he is goofing around.
But then your blood almost freezes in your veins, as the situation progresses.
He is not alone.
The other person suddenly appears, grabs Merlin's hips and lifts him up. Merlin wraps his legs around the other person's hips and he's not so delicately pressed against a tree. Their mouths meet hungrily and it looks as if they're sucking their life out of each other through their mouths. You can only see Merlin's face and the other guy's back, but the hunger in your servant's eyes is something new. It's wild and unrestrained and you swallow just imagining these eyes focused on you.
"Mordred." Merlin moans and you realize that, yes, this is in fact your knight and a druid who so passionately ravishes your best friend. "I love you." Merlin whispers looking straight into Mordred's eyes, and there's so much intensity in his gaze that you feel cold tears running down your cheeks.
"Gods, Merlin, I love you, too." Mordred mutters and bends for yet another kiss, his hands ripping Merlin's shirt out of his breaches.
You turn around and head back, your slow steps quickly turning into a run. The tears obscuring your way don't make any difference. Nothing does, anymore.
end of flashback
Later, you smile as if nothing had happened. Because you made your choice marrying Gwen, and although she's no longer in the picture and your heart breaks in longing, you cannot, will not destroy the only thing that makes Merlin smile like that.
You will hate Mordred, of course. He will be your bane. But there's no way you will act on these feelings. You are a king, after all, and a good king knows that the subjects always come first.