Archive of Our Own ^beta

Gwaine groaned as he rolled over in his bed, pulling the covers over his head to block the sunlight streaming in through the window, not that it helped because the sun shone through the pale covers. How dare it awaken him? He’d been having the most wonderful dream about-

“Gwaine…?”

Huh… maybe not a dream then…

The covers shifted slightly, until the fabric pulled away from his face, revealing Percival in all his shirtless glory.

“There you are.”

“Hm… Love that you’re real.” Gwaine muttered, bringing one hand up to rub at Percival's chest. Percival chuckled. “Was Elyan a dream?”

“No, Elyan was here. He had lookout duty early this morning, remember? He did tell us before we climbed into bed.”

“Oh, yeah…”

“What’re you doing under here?”

“Was hidin’ from the sun…” 

“Shame. I rather like the way the sun spills over your face in the morning and calls attention to all your features.” Percival whispered. Gwaine snorted.

“You’re disgusting.”

“We have differing definitions of disgusting. What you said last night was utter filth.”

“What I said last night was poetic as shit.” Gwaine leaned forward and pecked Percival’s lips. “Unlike your vile affectionate words.”

“Fine, then I shall reserve my affectionate words for Leon, Lancelot and Elyan instead.” Percival smirked before climbing out of the bed.

“Oi! I didn’t say that!” Gwaine pulled the cover back and propped himself up on his elbow. “Go on, say something gross.”

“Your name spills from my mouth like wine from a goblet, but no wine can compare to the taste of it on my lips.” Percival smiled as he grabbed his trousers from the end of the bed. Gwaine faked a gagging sound.

“See? Filth.”

“Leon appreciates it.”

“Leon would, he’s into that wordy stuff.” Gwaine smirked, watching as Percival dressed. “I’m glad we’re all… you know. Seeing each other.”

“Me too.” Percival nodded, pulling on his trousers. “I hadn’t considered it, I didn’t know people could have more than one… But it feels right, doesn't it?”

“It does.” Gwaine agreed. “Leon was a mess though. I don’t think he quite believes that we like him that way. He’s still stunned that we want him.”

“Well… I’m happy to share, so long as you know it doesn’t change how much I love you.”

Gwaine fake gagged again before catching sight of the tattoo on Percival’s chest. 

“Sorry about taking your shirt off without asking last night…” Gwaine rubbed the back of his neck, recalling how Percival had suddenly gasped and recoiled when Gwaine’s eyes had fallen on the tattoo, and then again when Elyan had seen it. “Didn’t realise the thing was there.”

“It’s fine. I trust you both.” Percival smiled. “Leon’s seen it anyway, so has Merlin, and now you and Elyan.”

“What’s it called again?”

“A triskelion.”

“And what’s it do?”

“It gets me executed if the wrong person finds it.” Percival joked, but Gwaine just stared at him. “It translates to ‘three legs’, but we believe it to mean that things all come in threes. Birth, death and rebirth, for example, or past, present and future.”

“Yeah? What about getting back in bed, kissing, and sleeping through training?” Gwaine suggested. Percival laughed and threw a shirt at him.

“And face Leon’s wrath? He loves us but he won’t make any exceptions, you know that. He’d still have us mucking out the horses.”

“Yeah, but at least he’d kiss us after.” Gwaine pulled the shirt on. “So… Do you have magic?”

“I…” Percival froze. “I, um…”

“S’okay. I get why you wouldn’t wanna talk about it.”

“No. No, it’s fine… just, I never really used it. I tried, but I was never very good at it, it was never powerful enough. Iseldir said it was just nerves and shyness, but I think I’m just rubbish. I can do the telepathic bit really well though.”

“Telepathic?” Gwaine asked, sitting up with interest. “What, can you hear my thoughts?”

“No, no, not yours. Don’t worry, your filthy thoughts are safe. I can only use it with other druids and magic users… huh…” Percival blinked in confusion. “I just remembered that Leon was in my head once. About a week ago, after the Sorcerer hit me with that spell.”

“The Sorcerer hit you? Really? Because I recall you diving in front of Sir Leon like a bloody arrow to take that hit.” Gwaine’s expression turned stoic, and Percival bowed his head.

“Leon expressed a desire to be dead that morning, I was concerned he’d use the spell as an excuse to give up. That, and I know more about magic than he does. I knew I could probably fight it.”

“Wait, he what?”

“He wished me to tell him how to reverse the effects of the Cup Of Life. His patrol was slaughtered, as was he, but the Druids saved him using the Cup Of Life. He joked that he should be executed, before asking if I knew how to reverse the effects.” Percival sat himself down on the end of the bed. “I was forced to revisit some of my most difficult memories, forced to endure scenarios I fear the most… I don’t regret taking that hit because I can not imagine what Leon would have had to go through, if he’d have survived. But I’m fine now.”

“What did you see?” Gwaine whispered, reaching out and putting a hand on Percival’s thigh.

“I saw my parents slaughtered, my little sister murdered… my village in flames, I saw Emrys and I pleaded to him, I saw Leon take his life, and Morgana executing you and Elyan and Lancelot, and Arthur and Merlin dead side-by-side… I saw Camelot in ruins… I was walking through the remains when Leon and the Druids pulled me back.”

“I thought Gauis healed you?”

“Leon… suggested taking me to the Druids in Lot’s Kingdom.”

“Lot’s Kingdom?!” Gwaine cried. “Leon’s insane!”

“If he hadn’t, I’d be dead.”

“Well then… Leon’s a genius, I guess.”

“He’s also gonna make us muck out the horses if we’re late.” Percival reminded him. “Come on, up we get!”

“No!”

“Gwaine!”

If anyone heard a loud thud and clatter coming from Gwiane’s chambers that morning, they didn’t mention it.

Gwaine and Percival frowned, looking around the empty training grounds. 

“We can’t be the first ones here.”

“You aren’t.” Arthur announced his presence as he left the armoury, followed by the other knights. “ However, Leon isn’t here.”

“Leon… isn’t at training?” Gwaine asked. “Shit, something must be wrong.”

“I know. We’ve looked everywhere here for him, so I can only assume he’s in his chambers still… However, I don’t know if he’s alright.”

“I keep telling him, he should have a manservant.” Merlin grumbled. “He’s allowed one as First Knight.”

“Merlin, that’s not a terrible idea… We should go and speak to George once we decide who is going to find Leon.”

“Why can’t you go?” Elyan asked. “If something is wrong, Leon will tell you anything, and he’ll be honest about it.”

“He has a point.” Merlin turned to Arthur, who shook his head.

“No. He’ll only tell me because he sees me more as his King than his friend, and I do not want him to fear me like he feared my Father. I still have to work on our boundaries, but until then, I’m not the right choice. He’ll panic and assume I’m upset with him for not turning up. Lancelot, however…” Arthur trailed off.

“Me?”

“You’re the most… tactful… and understanding of us all. He’s let you comfort him before.”

“I appreciate that, Sire, but surely Merlin would be the better choice. I don’t know as much about Leon as Merlin does, he hasn’t confided in me yet.”

“True.” Merlin nodded. “But he might think I’ve come on behalf of Arthur and think Arthur’s upset with him. It might panic him. Perhaps Percival? You’ve shared some experiences.”

“He hasn’t spoken to me about personal experiences since he yelled at me a week ago. He feels guilty and is trying to prevent a repeat by avoiding talking to me about such things. What about Elyan? You grew up with Leon.”

“Yeah, and I left him, didn’t I? When I left home. I’ve never even had a personal conversation with him. Which leaves Gwaine.”

“Gwaine?” Arthur turned to Gwaine, who shuffled nervously. “Any reason why you can’t?”

“Because I’m me?” Gwaine scoffed. Percival crossed his arms. “Okay, no, look… Leon and I have… We’ve shared some… moments. Nothing weird, just… been miserable together when we needed to be. I could probably get an answer out of him. But I’m not going alone, I don’t want to say the wrong thing. I’m not all sweet and comforting like some of you.”

“Lancelot?” Arthur turned to the kind-hearted knight. 

“Of course.” Lancelot nodded before turning to Gwaine, who nodded dutifully.

“Gwaine. Lancelot.” Arthur halted them. “Please look after him.”

“We will.” They promised, before heading away from the grounds and towards the castle. 

Gwaine shushed Lancelot, not that he needed to, before pushing open the door to Leon’s chambers without knocking. He was surprised to see the pale and shivery First Knight lying on his back in his bed, which he was using more regularly now, in his nightclothes.

Sir Tedward lay on the floor, out of the First Knight’s reach, and Lancelot couldn’t help feeling a little dejected.

“Leon?” 

“Gwaine…” Leon’s voice was hoarse, as though he’d been over-using it. He turned to the Knight but made no effort to move.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me and Lance.” Gwaine bent down to pick up Sir Tedward and sit him on the pillow next to Leon’s head. “You alright, bud? You didn’t make it to training.”

“Which is fine. No one’s upset.” Lancelot added quickly. “We just wanted to make sure you’re alright. Are you?”

“Can you pull me up?” Leon ignored them both. Gwaine and Lancelot frowned, looking at each other, and then Leon.

“What, like, sit you up?” Gwaine asked, furling his brow. 

“Yes.”

“Why can’t you do it? Have you had too much to drink? Party hard, did you?” Gwaine laughed as Lancelot moved to Leon’s bedside, sitting beside him and pressing a flat palm to Leon’s forehead. Leon practically whimpered at the contact, pushing his head against Lancelot’s hand to increase the touch. Lancelot pressed a little harder, gently rubbing over Leon’s hairline with his thumb, while Gwaine’s demeanour changed as he realised Leon was being serious about not being able to get up. 

“Lee, braveheart? Why can’t you get up? Are you hurt? Are you sick?” Lancelot asked softly.

“Darlin’, you can tell us.” Gwaine tried as he took Leon’s hand in his and squeezed it, but Leon shook his head against Lancelot’s hand, growing more distressed.

“I just… cannot make myself get up.”

“Okay.” Lancelot replied simply, trying not to upset him further. “Alright. It’s alright. Do you think it could be poison? Did you drink or eat something that could be laced?”

“No, I can… I can move my arms, move my fingers.” Leon proved it by squeezing Gwaine’s hand. Gwaine nodded to Lancelot. “I’m not paralysed or wounded or sick. I just… I cannot leave the bed. I need to- I know I need to, and I tried to, I did, I tried to leave the bed but I can’t-“

“Shh, Leon, it’s alright…” Lancelot whispered. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out.”

“Could it be sorcery?” Gwaine asked, but Leon shook his head.

“I’ve been here alone all night.”

“Are you perhaps tired? Perhaps you need more sleep.” Lancelot suggested.

“I walked for three days and two nights from Cendred’s Kingdom with less sleep than I had last night, even then I didn’t feel like this.” Leon almost whined. “I just want to get up.”

“I know you do. Have you ever felt like this before?” Lancelot asked. Leon nodded. “When?”

“When I was dying.” Leon winced at the memory. “Before the druids found me. I just… I couldn’t get up.”

“You were dying, Leon, no-one can get up while dying.” Gwaine scoffed.

“No. I mean that I tried. I tried to sit, to stand, but there was no strain. It was like my body refused to obey me.”

“Oh! Right, you try to move but your body doesn’t seem to get the message?” Gwaine asked. Leon nodded, his eyes lit up with recognition.

“Is that what’s happening now?” Lancelot asked. “You’re telling yourself to get up, but your body is not reacting?”

“Yes.” Leon breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that they seemed to finally be understanding.

“Why is your body refusing you?” Gwaine frowned. “Why would your body want to stay in bed?”

“It’s safer here.” Lancelot answered for the First Knight, looking up at Gwaine. “Nothing can hurt him here, no one can expect anything of him while he is in bed. He is safe and free from his duties.”

“That’s not-”

“It makes sense.” Gwaine nodded. “Perhaps you’re afraid to get up.” 

“Freezing is a response to fear.” Lancelot added, but Leon shook his head.

“I am not afraid.”

“Then get up.” Gwaine crossed his arms. Lancelot threw a glare at him before turning to Leon, who had turned away to hide the face his eyes were burning with unshed tears. Lancelot immediately leaned over him, taking Leon’s face in his hands.

“Shh, it’s alright…” Lancelot gently brushed his thumbs over Leon’s temples. “Lee, braveheart, it’s okay, your body isn’t ready to take on the day. That’s alright.”

“No… I-I have to. I need to.” Leon whispered. “I need to.”

“Arthur is not angry with you, Leon, you don’t have to-”

“Yes. I do.” The First Knight cut Lancelot off and pulled weakly on Gwaine’s hand, who realised Leon was trying to pull himself up. In an attempt to stop him, Gwaine let go of Leon’s hand, which earned a wail of despair from the First Knight that neither of them had ever heard before and hoped to never hear again.

Gwaine quickly took his hand again.

“Sorry. I got you…” Gwaine whispered. “Look… why don’t we help you to get up, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll bring you back to bed?” 

“Gwaine-”

“Please help me…” Leon choked, squeezing his eyes closed to avoid seeing his partners’ reactions to his weakness. Lancelot stared at Leon in shock for a moment, while Gwaine had to physically turn away to compose himself. Lancelot pressed a gentle kiss to Leon’s forehead.

“Braveheart, look at me?” Lancelot requested, and Leon hesitantly blinked his eyes open. “Of course we will help you. You only have to ask. We will do anything you need.”

“Come on, darlin’, up with you.” Gwaine turned back as he tightened his grip on Leon’s hand and, with Lancelot supporting Leon’s back and shoulders, pulled the First Knight into a sitting position.

“Good job, Lee…” Lancelot whispered, squeezing Leon’s shoulder reassuringly. Leon didn’t acknowledge him. “Are you ready to stand up yet, or do you need a minute?”

“I’m not a child.”

“Hey. No.” Gwaine scowled. “Don’t take it out on Lancelot.”

“Gwaine, it’s fine-”

“No, it’s not. Don’t let him do that.” Gwaine turned from Lancelot to Leon. “You asked for our help. We’re helping you. Lance is offering time so you still feel in control because he’s thoughtful like that. You did this to Percival when he tried to help you; you lashed out and pushed him away. Don’t start with us.”

Leon said nothing, just bowed his head for a moment before leaning into Lancelot’s side and nuzzling into his shoulder. Lancelot lifted his head to rest it atop Leon’s as the First Knight rested his head in the crook of Lancelot’s neck.

“I’m sorry…”

“I forgive you.” Lancelot whispered, rubbing Leon’s arm. “I know you’re frustrated, braveheart, but we’re here for you, we’re not judging you.”

“When you’re ready, we’ll try standing up, alright?” Gwaine asked, and Leon nodded against Lancelot. 

It took a few minutes of reassuring whispers and comforting cuddling for Leon to be ready, but once he was, he pulled away and nodded. Lancelot and Gwaine both went either-side of the First Knight and together they pulled him up and out of the bed. 

Leon wavered slightly, needing to support himself on Lancelot and Gwaine for a moment. He squeezed his eyes closed as he wavered on his feet. Lancelot almost asked if Leon had a headache, but he didn’t want to push Leon’s patience. Instead, he remained still and waited for Leon to right himself.

“Sorry…” Leon whispered, but Lancelot shook his head.

“Don’t be.”

“Leon, darlin’, you wanna get dressed yourself, or do you want some help?” Gwaine asked. Leon looked down at the cream shirt and brown breeches he was wearing. Lancelot could feel the muscles in Leon’s arm tensing and untensing, as though trying to work.

“Braveheart, don’t push yourself. We can help you.” Lancelot assured him. Leon gave him a defeated look, but nodded slowly. “Alright, Lee. Gwaine, can you get Leon some fresh clothes? Casual wear, no armour today.”

“But-“

“Not today, Lee, you can barely stand without all that extra weight.” Lancelot explained. Leon sighed, but he nodded in understanding. 

Once Lancelot was sure Leon had stopped swaying, he carefully removed himself from the First Knight and moved in behind him. He gripped at the bottom of Leon’s shirt and pulled it up over his head as gently as he could. Once he had, he gasped, quickly bringing his hand up to his mouth to stifle the sound. 

Leon’s back was littered with scars, most of them lashes, but not all of them. He could tell the sword scars apart, and even recalled a few of them from training and from tournaments, but one stood out on his back. It looked like Leon had been impaled. Lancelot tried not to look at it. 

His eyes caught one other scar in particular; it had been caused by Arthur during training and the King had been distraught about it when it had happened. Leon had assured him it had been fine and then attempted to spar against Lancelot, who had immediately dragged him to Gaius. The wound cut across the lashes on Leon’s back that stretched and pulled, showing their age. Some were newer, but others…

Leon had been young when he’d received them.

Lancelot caught Gwaine’s eyes, who was now in front of Leon previously staring at a spot on his chest, and was now looking at Lancelot in confusion. Lancelot shook his head, trying to tell him not to be so obvious in front of Leon, but held out his hand for the olive coloured shirt and black breeches Gwaine held. Gwaine understood and handed it over before Lancelot moved in front of Leon and Gwaine moved behind. When Lancelot saw Gwaine’s jaw tighten and rage-filled eyes meet his own, he knew Gwaine had reached the same conclusion as him.

Bors was responsible.

Then he saw Leon’s front; while there were less scars there, there was another large wound that suggested impalement. It took a few minutes for the cogs to turn and for Lancelot to connect that the wounds on his front and back were the same wound, an impalement that went all the way through. It must have been the injury that nearly killed him when the Druids saved him.

“Why did you stop?” Leon asked softly. Lancelot blinked and snapped himself back to Leon’s aid. 

“Sorry, braveheart… duck your head down a little?” Lancelot whispered. Leon did as he was asked, and Lancelot pressed a kiss to his forehead before pulling the shirt down over his head.

“Did it hurt?” Gwaine asked, and Lancelot’s eyes widened in horror. Leon frowned.

“Did what hurt?”

“Being stabbed.” Gwaine clarified, moving in front of Leon next to Lancelot. “You never talked about it.”

“Yes.” Leon whispered simply. “But that wasn’t the worst part.”

“What was the worst part?” Gwaine asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Leon sighed, wavering on his feet. 

“It stopped hurting, everything went cold and I couldn’t move. I could feel myself slipping from this world to the next, I couldn’t stop it… but I could think, and hear, and see. I saw my fallen men, I heard the final breaths of the dying, I thought about how I’d never see any of you again, how I’d failed Camelot.”

“You didn’t fail.” Gwaine told him, but the First Knight shook his head.

“I was scared.” Leon whispered. “I was so afraid…”

“Of course you were.” Lancelot whispered, taking Leon’s hands in his. “I remember stepping into the veil. I was so afraid of giving my own life, but I knew it had to be me, or else Merlin would have done it, and I couldn’t let that happen. Dying scares people, Leon, and that’s okay. That’s… That’s healthy.”

“Then why do I wish for it?” Leon asked, and Lancelot paled.

“What…?” 

“If I fear death, then why do I wish for it?”

“Because you don’t want to die. You just don’t want to deal with all the shit.” Gwaine spoke up. Lancelot and Leon turned to face him. “You have a lot of shit, my friend… Childhood trauma, survivors guilt, self-hatred, trust issues, emotional constipation- the list goes on. You’re tired of it. You want it to end but it won’t, and you know that.”

“I can’t escape…” Leon whispered, and Lancelot’s heart shattered in his chest.

“Perhaps not, but we can help you.” Gwaine assured him. “We can help share the burden, ease the pain, whatever you need. Whether it be comfort, or help getting out of bed, or even sharing your workload. Whatever helps you, Leon, we will be here.”

“Why…?” Leon blinked in confusion, and Lancelot smiled sadly at the fearful expression that often appeared on Leon’s face.

“Because we love you.” Lancelot spoke it with confidence, as though it were obvious, but Leon shook his head.

“How could you?”

“Well, maybe it’s because you’re sexy as hell.” Gwaine shrugged nonchalantly. “Or the fact you’re strong and brave and heroic.”

“And because you have a heart of gold, and you love Camelot and Arthur and us with everything you have.” Lancelot whispered.

“Oh, and because you kick ass and you look great while doing it.”

“And because you care for the people of Camelot.”

“And because you’re smart and leader-y, and Percival says your voice sounds like silk.”

“And because you’ve survived everything you’ve been through.”

“And because you’re polite and noble and loyal, even to those dickhead royals who come and visit.”

“But you’re also fair and just.”

“And you smell like pine and leather.”

“And sometimes you get the cutest lost look on your face.”

“Oh, you mean the kicked puppy one?” Gwaine asked, and Lancelot nodded.

“That one. My heart melts when I see it. I want to kiss everything better.”

“Like right now?” Gwaine indicated to Leon, who did, in fact, look like a kicked puppy at the overwhelming appreciation he was receiving.

“Like right now.” Lancelot nodded, before taking Leon’s hand and kissing it gently. Gwaine was not so subtle, and took Leon’s face in his hands to kiss his cheek. Leon’s eyes watered as he studied the two of them.

“Shh, Darlin’, you’re alright.” Gwaine whispered. “Let’s get you dressed, yeah? Then we’ll go to training, okay?”

“Okay.” Leon nodded.

Neither Lancelot nor Gwaine felt Leon was alright.

Lancelot left once Leon was dressed, leaving Gwaine to guide the First Knight to the training grounds as if he was showing him where they were for the first time. Leon faltered once in the corridor, needing to support himself against a wall before continuing. 

Gwaine had somehow managed to attach Sir Tedward to Leon’s belt with no fuss.

When they arrived, Arthur was quick to greet them.

“Leon!” Arthur beamed as he strode over and pat Leon’s shoulder fondly. He gave Gwaine a look that the knight understood. He bowed before leaving the two of them alone in the armoury.

“My apologies for being late, my Lord.” Leon bowed his head, staggering a little when he lifted it. Arthur went to stabilise him, but Leon righted himself.

“You’re not.” The king assured him. “I moved training to later this morning. You’re early, as per usual.” Arthur smiled, and Leon blinked. 

“Sire?”

“The other Knights couldn’t attend either, all busy with official business, so I moved training closer to noon.”

“But… Gwaine and Lancelot were with me.” Leon whispered. 

“Yes, they were busy with official business , and so they were unable to attend. Percival and Eylan had a meeting with Gauis, and Merlin and I were in the servant’s office.”

“Why were you in the servants office?” Leon asked.

“Walk with me.” The King offered, and Leon followed him obediently. Arthur guided Leon to one of the benches and sat him down before looking around to ensure they were alone. Once confirmed, Arthur sat beside him.

“We were concerned when you didn’t show. Which is fine, no one is angry or upset. I had no way of knowing if you were alright. That was when Merlin reminded me that the First Knight is supposed to be allocated a manservant.”

“I refused a manservant.”

“I know you did, but Gaius agrees that giving you a manservant may help you alleviate some of your stress and help you through the day.”

“…That’s why Percival and Elyan went to Gauis.” Leon whispered. “Sire-”

“Please hear me out.” Arthur interrupted. “Lancelot felt he needed to tell me about what happened to you this morning, but not due to any disloyalty. He loves you and is simply concerned, and wishes for you to be okay. He told me that you were unable to get up because your body was refusing your orders. Is that right?” Leon nodded.

“…Yes, Sire.”

“That information has not gone beyond me. But… If you were to have your own manservant, he could help you in the mornings, whether it be getting you up and ready for the day, or simply informing me that you are out of action.” Arthur bowed his head. “I was worried when you didn’t show. I feared you’d been poisoned or injured or that you’d perhaps injured yourself in the night… all sorts of scenarios went through my head with no way to confirm or deny them. I had begun to think you’d fulfilled your wish to be dead…”

“Never, Sire, not while you live and breathe.” Leon tried to assure him, but Arthur still looked solemn. “I am sorry to have caused you such stress.”

“That’s part of friendship, Leon. I’m going to worry when you act unlike yourself, just like you worry about me.”

“I will… I will accept a manservant if it eases your mind, Sire.”

“It would, greatly.” Arthur smiled at his longest friend, who nodded. “George has volunteered his services already. He’d be a good match for you, actually. He’s very serious about his position, and I can confirm that he is our most efficient servant.”

“Is he aware of my ridiculous needs?” Leon asked, self-hatred lacing his voice. “It may deter him.”

“No. He’s not aware of your needs . I can discuss them with him if you won’t.”

“I assume that means that these matters are to be discussed with George regardless?”

“I would like your permission first, but they will have to be, yes.” Arthur nodded. Leon sighed.

“I don’t want to be in this position.” Leon admitted, and Arthur smiled sadly.

“I know you don’t. It must feel so messy to be you right now, but we don’t have a good enough understanding of what you’re going through to cure it. We can only see what helps you and go from there. If George really doesn’t help, Leon, then we can come back and rethink it. For now, I’d like to try the manservant idea.”

“Alright…” Leon nodded. “I’ll try it.”

“George.” Arthur greeted the servant sitting at the desk respectfully, which made Sir Leon feel instantly more at ease. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps it was just the way Uther and Arthur’s interactions with the servants were so different. Arthur was going to be a better King than his Father, he was certain.

“Sire.” George returned the greeting. Leon looked around the servant’s office as he and Arthur sat before George, and tried to focus on some of the things on the walls. Perhaps if he looked busy, Arthur wouldn’t address him.

“Leon?” 

Damn it.

“Yes, Sire?” He turned to Arthur.

“Would you like to discuss it, or shall I?”

“If you do it, Sire, you can address everything that’s causing you issue.” Leon had meant to be respectful, but the look that befell Arthur’s face told him he wasn’t impressed with that answer.

“Leon. You are not causing me issue. I’m doing this because I want you to be alright, not because I’m unhappy with you.”

“Yes, Sire.” Leon responded automatically, not really taking in what had been said. He was causing issue whether Arthur saw it or not.

“George, I appreciate that you’ve volunteered for this position. Leon has always been hesitant- Sorry, averse to having a manservant, but we have decided that he needs one for… What shall we say, Leon? Personal and health related reasons?” Arthur turned to Leon, who shrugged.

“If you feel that’s accurate, Sire.”

“Sir Leon!” Arthur raised his voice, shocking both the servant and the First Knight into looking at him. “I know you’re not happy with the situation at hand, but it is happening and we need to address it, so stop sulking and help me to help you!”

Leon sat up unconsciously. He hadn’t realised he’d come across as ‘sulking’. But then… He was, wasn’t he? 

“My apologies, Sire… Yes, I believe personal and health related reasons are accurate.”

“Good.” Arthur turned back to George. “This morning, Sir Leon was unable to tend to his duties because he was unable to leave his bed. His body did not respond to his will, which left him bedridden. I had no one to inform me of that, and Leon had no-one to help him until he didn’t show up for training. That is why we decided to assign him a manservant.”

“I see, my Lord.” George nodded, scribbling something down on a scroll in front of him. “Sir Leon, what would you like my main services to be?”

“I…” Leon faltered, glancing between Arthur and George. “I suppose… I need someone to force me to-”

“No.” Arthur interrupted, his hand outreached as though to physically stop Leon also.

“Sire, please let him speak.” George requested. Arthur gave the man a look that spoke volumes about how ridiculous he felt that idea was, but he lowered his hand and allowed it. “Sir Leon? What would you like my main services to be.”

“I need someone to force me out of bed and to dress, and to ensure I polish my armour and my sword before training.”

“Got it.” George scribbled down some notes. “May I suggest instead that I encourage you out of bed in the mornings. Failing that, I shall inform King Arthur that you are unable to attend your duties. I will aid you in dressing if you feel you need it, otherwise I will leave you to do it yourself. May I also suggest that I clean your armour and sword while you eat a healthy breakfast instead?”

Arthur couldn’t help the grin on his face as he turned to Leon.

“I told you he was good!”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Leon frowned.

“Then you shall start tomorrow. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, it gives you the energy to face the day and to perform to the best of your abilities. I can have it prepared before you awake.” George scribbled again, and Arthur laughed. “Provided you still wish for my services, Sir Leon.”

“Oh, he does.” Arthur answered for him. “He definitely does.”

“My Lord, respectfully, I wish for Sir Leon to accept this help himself.” George turned to Leon, who frowned.

“I do not accept it.”

“Then I’m afraid I shall work for you against your will until you do accept it.” George wrote down some more notes as Arthur beamed.

“George, you’re perfect.” Arthur told him as he stood. “Leon, you have the rest of the day off to get to know George.”

“But-!”

“No buts!” Arthur cut him off and left the room. Leon stood to follow him.

“Sir Leon, I know you are unhappy with the situation, that is evident, but I implore you to at least give me a trial run before you refuse me entirely. Just today, then you may speak with Arthur.” George stood from his desk. Leon sighed, his eyes fixed on the door Arthur had just left from.

“I have never once missed a day of training. I can’t start now. I don’t want the day off.”

“From what I understand, Sir Leon, a day off means you can do whatever you wish-”

“I wish to keep my training attendance perfect!”

“Then do it, Sir.” George smiled. “It’s your day off, you choose how to spend it.”

Leon froze before turning to face George. Any anger had gone, leaving his usual kicked-puppy face.

“You mean… Go to training regardless?”

“If that’s how you wish to spend your time. Or, if you wish, we could train together, Sir. That way, you will not be under the stresses and pressures you are usually facing.”

Leon’s composure slipped at that.

“You know how to use a sword?”

“Ah. I have used them only in dire situations, Sir, but I’d be willing to learn.”

“What constitutes a dire situation?” Leon asked, frowning. George’s expression faltered, only briefly, invisible to the untrained eye, but Leon was trained and he noticed. “I… Apologies, George, you do not have to answer that.”

“I shall attend training with you, Sir.” George tried to change the subject back. “If that is what you wish to do?”

“It is, George, thank you.” Leon smiled, and moved to hold the door open for the servant.

His previous anger had been completely forgotten.

“Leon!” Gwaine announced Leon’s arrival in a confused tone. Lancelot, Elyan and Percival wore matching looks of confusion, while Merlin didn’t look surprised. 

“Arthur said you were sitting this one out.” Elyan frowned.

“He is.” Arthur moved past Elyan, standing before Leon. “I gave you the day off.”

“I know, and I decided I’m going to train. However, I shall be training with George, since you wish us to get to know each other.”

“But-”

“I’m sure you’d agree, my Lord, that it would put less stress on Sir Leon to be doing something he feels necessary in a safe and undemanding environment?”

“I agree with that.” Merlin grinned. Arthur scowled.

“Fine, but I want to know as soon as anything feels wrong.”

“Of course, Sire.” Leon bowed respectfully before turning and leading George to a further area of the training grounds, away from the group.

“Thank you.” Leon smiled at George as he took two wooden training swords from the fence. He wasn’t in his armour, and neither was George. He didn’t really want to see Gaius today, nor did he want to be the reason George got injured. “I apologise for my behaviour before. I’m… I’m not usually like that. I’m not handling this very well. I don’t understand most of it myself…”

“That’s understandable, Sir. You handle most things because you’ve been trained to, like using a sword. You haven’t been trained to deal with what you’re going through, so how can you be expected to handle it well? It’s not your fault that that territory is unknown.”

“…It seems pretty known to you, if you don’t mind me saying.”

There. Leon frowned as that look befell George again for just a moment. He decided to quickly change the subject.

“Here. This is a training sword. I can teach you a few moves.”

“I’d appreciate that, Sir Leon.”

“Just Leon is fine when it’s just us, George.” Leon tried to smile warmly. “Show me what you know.”

“After you, Leon.” George raised his sword in a perfect defensive stance: His sword held outright to prevent enemies from attacking his front, while also in a position to quickly move the sword in whichever direction he needed to block a strike.

Leon struck low, one of his go-to starting moves, and George blocked it easily. He kept his grip firm, so the sword didn’t knock back into him. When Leon realised George wasn’t going to attack back, he switched to an upper-swing from the opposite side, which George blocked again with surprising strength. Again, George made no move to strike, so Leon feigned a left strike and quickly swung his sword to the right, which George blocked while making it look easy. 

“Impressive.” Leon couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t be afraid to try an attack.”

“I don’t know any attacks, Sir, nor do I have any need for them.”

“You may do one day.” Leon lowered his sword, and George copied the motion. “Your defences are strong, I’m sure your attacks will be too.”

“I have no need for them, Sir.”

“Defence isn’t enough to win a fight.”

“With all due respect, Sir Leon, I am a servant. If I were to attack any nobles with a sword I would surely be executed or exiled. I like my job here, Sir, and I’d very much like to keep it.”

“I didn’t say anything about nobles…” Leon frowned, tilting his head a little at George. “Why would you attack a noble?” The servant blinked, recalling his words.

“I wouldn’t, Sir.”

“But you know defence. Very good defence. You felt a need to learn that, but not attacks, because you cannot attack a noble… Which leads me to believe you’re defending yourself from a noble… George, is someone trying to cause you harm?”

“Sir Leon, this is-”

“Please.” Leon whispered. “If you are going to help me, then let me return the favour. Who is trying to harm you?”

“…It’s not me, Sir Leon. It’s the other Servants.” George sighed. “Sometimes the visiting nobles get a little… rough with them. Abusive in a whole variety of forms…”

“Come, sit.” Leon gently guided George down to the grass before sitting opposite him. “Abusive, you say?”

“Yes. One of our maiden’s was badly affected by a visit from Lord Bayard some years ago, Sir. He came to sign a peace treaty, yet he attacked some of the servants, including the maiden. She couldn’t handle the aftermath. She drank poison willingly and died by her own hand.”

Leon was absolutely mortified. He’d never heard of a servant taking their life in the castle.

“Of course, no one knew or cared about it because we’re servants, Sir. Uther brushed it off immediately.” George continued, as though reading Leon’s mind. “We’re supposed to be invisible, however I decided I would never let another servant feel so hopeless. With Merlin’s help, I learnt some defensive sword techniques. I also studied what is known about how people react after such events.”

“Which is why you’re so good with… well, everything I’m struggling with. And you do this yourself? You look after all the servants on your own?”

“Merlin helps when he’s able, Sir, but he tends to Arthur and Gaius both, so he has little spare time. I do not wish to take that from him. He earns so little of it. I’ve managed so far.”

“Have you spoken to Arthur about this?” Leon asked, fiddling with Sir Tedward’s arm as he did. George shook his head.

“Merlin’s tried a few times, Sir.”

“I’ll bring it up at the next Round-Table meeting. They'll listen to me.”

“I- S-Sir Leon-!” George faltered, his expression one of shock. “Y-you don’t have to-!”

“I do.” Leon interrupted him sternly. “If you are to be with me during parts of the day, that means you’re not with the other servants, which means they need protection. Us nobles are only as good as our servants, after all. Without them, none of us would function and the castle would be a wreck. That, and Arthur would probably still be an idiot.”

“You wish to hire me, Sir? Willingly?” George asked, and Leon nodded with a small smile.

“I think we could help each other. If you’re willing.” The First Knight held out his hand. George stared at it for a moment before holding out his own hand and shaking Leon’s hand in a firm agreement.

“I think I’m very much going to enjoy working with you, Sir Leon.”