DISCLAMIER: DO NOT OWN MERLIN property of BBC One.

.

.

SUMMARY: After Rescuing, his Knights of Camelot from the clutches of his evil sister High priestess Morgana, Arthur initiated Mordred as a new knight, Mordred now under the very nose of his new alliance contemplates his new task at hand. To see what is so worthy of Camelot and to rid those who stand in his way…

.

.

THE LOVE OF A QUEEN

.

.

.

Mordred slip out into the late night, when the moon was full and darkness was all that surrounded the land. He let out a small breathe and decided for the moment to collectively gather his thoughts.

It's been a couple of weeks long after they returned to Camelot with Arthur's missing knights, and the watchful eye of Arthur's man servant-Merlin. The druid born turned servant-wizard Merlin. It baffled him to know end why the warlock hid such talents from the very man that obviously considered his opinion very highly. This he scoffed, "It's because Arthur has yet to lift the band of magic yet…it seems he doesn't quite condone it." Nonetheless, he was going to have the lanky man, carefully watching his every move. No matter, Mordred thought.

And then his mind wondered about the High Priestess Morgana-the king's only half sister. He didn't fatally wound her, he hadn't meant to kill her, but it seemed the lovely girl he knew back then, that hungered for knowledge, for heritage, for the wondrous feeling of magic, turned to a monstrous, driven power hungry, uncontrollable angry temperament; driven only with the unhealthy obsession of destroying her brother and obtaining a feeble Kingdom named Camelot. She seemed to forgotten her true priorities. The true original purpose was to bring back the Old Religion-first. Not forcing her whole attention on a crummy Kingdom. That's why he had to take matter in his own hands, he wounded her yes, but hopefully her stupid mute of a dragon,(he also knew about that too) would save her once more. Maybe, he mused in time she will forgive him-or accept him back but her trust would probably be harder to obtain.

Then his mind turned once again to King Arthur. When he witnessed that "lovely reunion between brother and sister" he simply was analyzing what the young King's next move. He truly believed that maybe Arthur was fair and just to be able to one day….

His feet crunched upon dirt and grass, as he walked upon a trail among the moonlight path of the side of the castle, unable rest. The outside air smelled of crisp green and the temperature was cool, there were slight gray clouds foretelling of a possible storm, yet he didn't care, he loved the rain, he loved this element. A breeze blew gently on his face, casting his dark wavy coffee locks aside wildly, and he couldn't help but stop and outstretched his arms to his sides letting the gently wind shifted about him cooling him down. His sea blue emerald eyes closed and for once he felt content.

It was then he heard something foreign to him, something he rarely hears anymore.

He blinked, looking around, wondering where this noise was coming from.

At first it sounded faint, but gradual grew steady as he neared the source. It sounded like choir bells, tiny golden choir bells that were scattering the sky. The noise continued and he felt an oddly warm sensation spread across his chest. He strained his ears, keeping his eyes closed to heighten his other senses. Letting go of his body movements, taking his guard down, he let his own footsteps guide his passageway, even the wind escorted him, as he felt small burst of air guide his path towards this "sound."

In his mind, behind closed eyelids he created bright colorful images, sketches, paintings, inspired by the sweet voice. It was as if he could see this sound, this noise and visually touch it. This soft tune, this soft melody, this different tongue drifted upon the fingertips of the air. It made him feel….like he wanted more. He wanted to continue to hear more of this noise, wait music, yes that was the correct word to describe what he was hearing. It had been a long time since he heard something as soft as this.

Yes, this enchanted music was what he truly wanted to be surrounded with. He didn't mind when the soft tears of the ashen clouds decided to weep, adding harmony beats along with the gentle hymn.

He quietly followed the harmonious tone towards a clearing field where the grass felt longer then it normally was. The night air turned cooler, and the beautiful clear droplets continued to fall gently, while the melody continued. He slowly opened his eyes, and swallowed back a silent gasp. There was no words to describe it. He could have sworn his heart stopped, before his sight it was an orchestra in full bloom, not literally; but figuratively. Nature at its most creative. The long grass that became springy and wet beneath his feet, added its own harmony to the choir, as did the soft rain, the wind making the sound more whimsical. The fire flies that decided to awaken from their slumber tonight, danced about the clearing, illuminating the late flower bloomers, making the scenery surreal…unreal.

Rain water began to trickled down his own pale skin collecting at the base of his throat, before disappearing beneath his claret under shirt. He swallowed hard before narrowing his eyesight, from a short distance he saw a lithe figure twirling among the grass, the night sky behind her like a dance partner.

She was singing.

A simple girl….. a pretty girl with a beautiful voice, dressed in an sheer ivory lace cream night gown that reached her ankles. It clung to her profusely, ruined by the water, yet she did not seem to mind. She was to engross with her song and slight laughter. Her features were soft and warm-inviting even. Milky golden skin illuminated in the moonlight amongst falling rain. Her long wavy tresses, dark as chocolate coca, with hint of a copper hue, flew about her, swirling, splaying water droplets around her curvy body. Her hands moved about her perfectly in sync with each other before extending towards the sky, catching droplets. And she continued to sing her rosy pink lips turned upward in a smile, while her cinnamon caramel eyes, shying demure glances behind her, unconcerned with being pelted by heaven's tears.

He motioned to move his lips to utter something, to help contribute to her symphony, but no words passed through. Maybe it was for the better, he didn't want to scare nor interrupted her tribute to the night. So, he stood in awe with the scene unraveling before him, with out realizing it, his eyes widen slightly.

She was not alone.

Quickly, before being discovered the young druid knight hid in a shroud of tall bushes and shrubs which lined the quiet green forest-that in his favor disguised him completely. He took in her attentive shy glances and narrowed his vision to where her attention was being drawn. He caught slight movement as the rain let up only leaving behind cool night mist air.

Laying among the grass with one arm propping his head, the other draped across his abs, was a young man different in contrast to her, unhindered by the rain. His hair dampened to a dark golden wheat like the stars in night sky. His skin pale, but glimmered a faint faded tan, a bright smile adorn his face. He stared intensely at the young woman with assertive blue eyes, as if should he blink, she would disappear. He was dresses in dark brown trousers, a light long sleeve blue tunic, turned navy from water, that clung to his form as well. To the side of him, Mordred didn't miss the discarded chain mail and red cape that bore the Kingdom's Iconic Symbol.

The Dragon.

He realized he stumbled in on his King and Queen, sharing an intimate moment.

He wasn't usually a voyeuristic person, but seeing the sight of King Arthur and Queen Guinevere showing affection for what was only for each others eyes alone, was to be-quite honest his first encounter of what people in love was like. Growing up he hadn't given much thought about girls, only what was fed to him-goals. Goals of once again for Magic to be placed above all other petty human differences. Of course, he wasn't ignorant of the dynamics between a man and woman, but to be shown a demonstration, was something he was curious about. Especially, when he realized the Queen was breathe taking beautiful, and her night gown soaked by rain water, left nothing to the imagination.

So the rumors were quite true that Arthur did fall in love with a servant and wedded her. From what he remembered five years ago, when he was thirteen and Camelot trapped under the rule of Uther Pendragon, he remembered the maid servant with the lady Morgana and even Merlin, tried to help him secretly escape. In the end it was her husband -Arthur that saved him. That was five years ago, a hand maiden then married at age of seventeen turned Queen ruling at the age of twenty.

Her ringing laughter broke his thoughts, as he looked up to witness the King himself, chuckling lowly as he grabbed his wife's tapered waist from behind. His arms encircling her, as her own laid upon his, and she seemed at ease as she pressed her back upon his broad chest. And they slowly seemed to revel in each others swaying to the music of their own.

Mordred cocked his head, as he witnessed their loving moment, not before the Queen suddenly pushed away her lord's arms and sprinted child like away into the misty rain. Arthur stunned for a moment, sounded a throaty laugh and with a hunters look, acknowledge the chase. He watched their playful banter which ended back to where the king held his thrown belongings, as they circled one another. But, Arthur knowing he had the upper hand being fit from training; caught his wife and twirled her in the air once, then twice before both toppled to the ground in a fit of giggles.

Soon, their child playfulness swiftly turned to wanting affection.

Arthur kissed his wife slowly and gently laid her upon the slick wet grass. Her eyes fluttering close as she accepted his advances. Their kiss only intensified and Mordred even heard what little dialogue was said; now this is where he should have shut his eyes or take his leave but like he thought before, Mordred was curious.

"Guinevere, if you don't want to, you can say no here," he groaned, his hands caressing every inch of her skin. She pulled away slightly looking into the depths of deep blue sapphires, the both of them breathing heavily.

"I want to here and now," a chaste kiss placed on a golden brow, "I love you… my dear husband." she whispered gently caressing his cheek.

He nodded at her words and locked their lips with a heavy kiss. His hands began bunching up her wet nightgown, exposing her creamy smooth caramel thighs. He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist the other slowly ascending her right thigh to the apex of her thighs, inserting two lean fingers in her smooth silk mound.

Guinevere cried out, "Ar-Arthur. Hah…hah… ah," and her pretty face blushes and she bites her lower lip, while her head lolls back. The sounds made from his fingers, sliding in and out of her tight slick mound with enough friction, causes her to mew softly. Arthur focuses on his wife's face, her reactions, and he whispers, "My dear Queen what a cute sound you make..."

Sweat begins to form on their temples, dampening their already wet hair. The King continues to rain open mouth kisses upon her neck, collar, and bare shoulders, while continuing his ministration upon her sweet core. He wants to make sure Guinevere feels his full force of desire for her tonight.

Her hands glided across his soaked back with urgency, lifted the hem of his shirt, Arthur complied easily, raising his arms to allow her to slip it off. When broad bare torso touched wet fabric Guinevere whimpers.

And that is Arthur's undoing, with sudden speed he rids his wife of her wet gown by literally tearing it off her, exposing her to the night sky. She doesn't seem surprised, but continues her loving devotion towards her husband. He also pulls aside to pull down his trousers and undergarment and resumes his attention on his wife, caressing he breast.

"I want to hear more, Guinevere, more of your sweet voice." he huskily exhales, reaching everywhere his hands, his lips could touch. Her body accepts his offerings, growing more hot and responsive the more attention its placed upon. And all she could make are small puffing sounds, "Nnn…Ahh.." as her eyes close, and her skin turns warmer.

"Guinevere!" Arthur pants, watching his wife through hooded blazing azure eyes, her porcelain golden body lying beneath him as he gathers her closer to him. "Are you ready?"

She nods, as he kneels before her pulling her strong shapely legs around his waist, and in one quick motion he enters her swiftly and effortlessly. As he begins to thrusts in her, Guinevere, begins to moan, "Ah..nnn.. Arthur it feels so good…ah."

Arthur groans and grunts, as he ruts with his wife in the cool night on the springy lush grass. As soon as he feels her coming he decided to switch positions and turns her on her belly, lifting up one thigh from behind, as continues his motions, thrusting faster and harder from behind. She begins to cry out and her elbows and hands clutch the ground for leverage, her breast squished against the earth floor.

When the passion exceeds both parties, the Queen lets out a choked scream, "Aah...nh," and Arthur lets out a low grunt. He even manages to get two last hard thrusts and a long grind from mounting the Queen. They topple to the floor, the Queen first and the King second right behind her, on top of her. They both breathe in hard, panting from exhaustion. The Queen is the first to try to move, even with her husbands arms around her very own, holding her to the ground.

From this point of view, Mordred wants to smile or laugh he didn't know which he preferred, it was just that she looked somewhat adorable? She was this tiny feminine body and with the King's weight and body on top of her like that, she could hardy move. They look funny together, entangled like that, and Mordred noticed the King was still inside his Queen forcing her to be still. They stayed that way for a couple of minutes, the Queen finally giving up and accepting -submitting-to the King's dominance and possessiveness.

"Gwen...my love.." He hears Arthur gasps, slowly puling out of her, his fluids, stringing from his shaft to her core, before breaking in tethers the father he pulled out.

The Queen is breathing softly, slowly turning on her back exposing her breast, her pert nipples hardening in the cool night. The king smiles down on her, descending upon her once more. "Guinevere, my wife…my life.. my everything." and he places a kiss above her left breast, where her heart beats.

And the couple began their tender dance again.

It was then Mordred decided to leave. He had seen enough and didn't doubt the King's love for the Queen. He now sees this as a tactical move, something he can use against Arthur in the future should he need too. Right now, he will continue to monitor Arthur and decided what action needs to be taken in the present. As for the Queen, he would not take her so lightly, and probably occasionally keep tabs on her.

He quietly leaves the lovers and walked back towards his quarters.

The last thing he hears, is not beautiful singing, but the lovely cries of the Queen calling out to her King.

With a small smirk donning his lips, he has found his King's …weakness….

.

.

.

.

.

.

Arthur's Note: Gosh, it's been a long time since I fan wrote something. This time, I decided to fan write in a different selection (topic). I am Arwen all the way. This was meant as a one shot, but if any one is interested, I am in the process of extending it to other chapters.