Title: Stay, Love
Character/s: Mordred, Galahad(OC)
Summary: All Mordred wants is time
Warnings: Destructive relationship, but that's covered by the rating...
Word Count: 631
Author's Notes: So after hogwartsvixxxen wrote me such a great fic, I thought I should probably do some more Mordred/Galahad for you darling :) So here's some more (less violent than usual, this is new) Mordred exploration... I don't think I'll ever get my head wrapped around him as a character and understand him fully, but I'll keep writing him, because he intrigues me so much! And if they screw him up in series five I will not be happy.
It’s the way you count down the days, it’s the way that you say that ‘I can’t take this feeling anymore’ – Million Lights, Futures
Time. It’s all Mordred wants, all he needs. Time, with Galahad.
He tells himself that he wants the time to convince Galahad to stay with him, to gain a strong ally to his cause. But really, there’s more to it than that. He wants Galahad by his side, even while he fulfils his destiny and brings the kingdom they both love, Mordred a little too fiercely, to its knees. And he knows that Galahad would never stand for that. So he wants to take all he can get, devour the boy who is so far on his way to becoming a man, cover Galahad in him until Mordred’s smell seeps in and he can believe at least for a while that they will always be together. That promises of forever will stick.
Love swells within him. Takes root and grows, until it chokes him. And Mordred thinks he could cope, could even enjoy this slow torture of a whole world depending on the look in the eye of one man, if not for the fact that it will be over one day.
He wants to hoard Galahad away. To lock him in a room without a key, to erase all time before Mordred in his life, anyone and anything in his memory that would make him want to leave. And keep Galahad safe, even from Mordred who loves him the most in the world, and can only destroy that which he loves.
Like Camelot. The land he wants so much that he would stain it with blood just for a chance at ownership.
He’d visit Galahad. Mordred would be the only living and breathing thing in his life. There is no room for jealousy in Mordred’s perfect world. And he’d take Galahad his food, take pleasure from caring for him, from Galahad’s very life depending on his continued visits. He’d watch Galahad eat, watch him exercise around the small room; watch him wash, strip, kiss. Bury him in sheets and blankets and Mordred, push into him with hesitant, awed fingers until he’s begging for more, yes, please and then give it to him, because Mordred wants it too. More than he could ever have imagined wanting anything except Camelot. He’d come easily, screaming Galahad’s name only in his mind, because this pure perfect boy is his and he doesn’t ever want to scare him away, to remind him just what it is that he belongs to.
And then, later, he’d watch Galahad sleep. Peaceful and childish and trusting in his arms.
But this will never happen. Because Mordred destroys, and Galahad will be long fled from him before ever they get to the point at which Galahad could be hidden away.
So Mordred goes to Galahad’s room. He enters without knocking, when Galahad’s changing, so all he has to do is lock the door with his magic and step forward, tug the shirt from Galahad and slip off his breeches to stroke him hard, tongue echoing the movement over the roof of Galahad’s mouth. Galahad will find the oil, lie down and spread his legs, and Mordred will open him, slow and careful and reverent, and push in. His fingers will trace Galahad’s ribs, his shoulder blades, the lines of his abs, his nose, lips, eyes, and every hair on his head. He will commit him to memory, and when it’s all stored for future reference he’ll fuck that little bit harder, fingers lingering light on Galahad’s cock until Mordred makes him come.
And when Galahad pleads, sleepily, when they’re done, for him to stay, love he will. If only for that time, soon to be lost.