Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“We’ve had reports that mercenaries are streaming into Cenred’s Kingdom.” The prince informed the King.

Leon was waiting to see what decision they would ultimately reach. The reports they had obtained didn't paint a very good picture for the kingdom and its security.

“Do we know why?”

“There is rumour that Cenred is amassing an army. I think we should send a patrol out to assess the situation.”

The King’s eyes lost focus on Arthur, instead freezing on the doors. He looked worried, scared almost. Leon’s hand quickly moved to the hilt of his sword, instinctively assuming that a threat was approaching, and he was ready to do his job and protect the royal family.

Still, no one burst into the room or showed any signs of wanting to attack. The space the King was aiming at was empty. He wasn't the only one confused by this; virtually everyone in the room turned to look and discreetly murmured if anyone understood what was happening.

Prince Arthur was trying to appease the King, but Leon noticed how worried he was. The King’s behaviour was making no sense.

“Leave me alone.” The King stood from the throne.

Leon stayed still, as did the rest. No one was certain whether the order had been directed at someone specific or to all of them. No one wanted to get it wrong and upset the King any further.

“Get out of here.” His voice echoed in the big room.

This time it became clearer, but it only worked to worry everyone present even more. The King was pointing with his finger, but he was seeing someone or something that none of them could.

Arthur clenched his jaw.

There were too many people in the room, and none of them should be witness to the King’s confusion.

He started raging, screaming and threatening. Leon didn’t even have to look at Arthur to know what they needed to do. He stopped the King when he tried to lung forward, grabbing him along with Arthur. They dragged him out of the room and away from prying eyes, ignoring his screaming for the moment.

They took the King to his room, and luckily, he had calmed down enough by them to let Gaius treat him. Leon and Arthur stepped out by Gaius’ request to let him work, and so they stood outside the King’s chambers.

Prince Arthur was biting his lip as he paced, stopping himself at the last moment but wanting to ignore Gaius’ word and be with his father. Leon wished he could offer some comfort, try to give him a word of encouragement, but it wasn’t his place.

He wasn’t scared of speaking his mind. He was more than capable of offering his opinion when he deemed it necessary. He was never afraid of sharing his thoughts about patrol routes, or the knights training, and even about matters such as the harvests and food distribution to the lower town.

He had spent his entire life learning everything he could about armies, battle strategies and negotiations. He learnt how to fight and how to defend. When he was officially knighted, he spent years working hard to prove he had earned his place and that he was capable of more.

It took more than physical aptitude to climb the ranks and make a name of himself, and part of that had to do with knowing his place.

As much as he appreciated Arthur, and he did, he had watched the progress the prince had made both as a knight and a man. He knew there were lines not made to be crossed. He respected Arthur, and he hoped he had earned some respect back, but he knew they would never be friends.

Arthur would be King one day, and Kings do not have friends. He only hoped to prove to be a trustworthy knight and ally.

They were interrupted by a guard rapidly walking to them, informing that the body of a guard had been found outside.

Arthur looked conflicted, wanting to go investigate and staying to see what Gaius had to say.

“Worry not, Sire. I’ll handle this and report to you as soon as we know more.”

“Thank you, Sir Leon.”

Leon nodded, then indicated the guard to guide him.

“What do we know so far?”

“I don’t know much, I only got the gist of it to inform, Sir. It must’ve happened during the night-time.”

...

They found him still on the floor, with Marcus - another guard - standing beside him.

“Sir Leon.” He acknowledged. “It’s Henry. He got started a few months back.”

“Does he have a family?”

“A sister, I believe."

Leon nodded grimly, “We’ll have to inform her about this.” He turned to another guard that had joined them. “Call to have the bells ringing and see if the physician is available now, show him the path here. Let’s wait to see what he has to say before telling his sister about it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Leon crouched, staring at knife lodged in the sentry’s flesh. It had a symbol in it, but it wasn’t one he recognised from anywhere. Hopefully Gaius would know more about it.

The church bells started ringing, and moments later Gaius and Merlin were making their way to them. He moved to the side, letting them do their work.

“The knife,” He said, “It’s not something I recognise. Have you seen it before?

Gaius hummed.

“Take this man to my chambers. I need to speak to Arthur as a matter of urgency.”

Leon complied, sharing the weight of the body with two other guards. The skin was cold in his grip, and he sighed as they made their way up the tower.

Once they deposited him on the cot, Gaius started to work on him immediately. Leon dismissed the guards, telling them to go back to their posts.

 “What about his sister?” One nervously asked.

“I’ll inform her myself, do not worry.”

The guard nodded in appreciation. It was never easy, to deliver such news. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be the first time Leon had to do it. He was okay with taking the burden for someone else.

“He’s alive!” Merlin breathed out.

Leon snapped his head to look at them. Gaius was smiling, barely so, but nodded in agreement. He tended the wound, cleaning it and bandaging it.

“Will he wake up?” He had seen men being alive by all meanings of the word, yet they never seemed able to recover enough to access consciousness again.

“I believe he will, Sir Leon. I believe he’ll recover.”

“Good news, then.”

“I would not call victory yet, Merlin.”

“It’s the knife, isn’t it?” Leon asked, pointing at the knife that had been cleaned of the blood by Merlin already.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Arthur must be ready and waiting for your report. I must go look for Henry’s sister, if you’ll excuse me.” He nodded his goodbye and left.

It took him time and a lot of asking, but he was able to find Henry’s sister and where they lived. He found her and shared what had happened to her brother, glad to be able to tell her he’d recover instead of having to report a death. He accompanied her to the castle, and once inside crossed paths with two knights. Sir Edric and Sir Montague.

He exchanged looks with them before pausing, “Sir Montague, would you show her to the physician’s tower? Her brother was the guard attacked last night.”

“Of course, Sir Leon.” He looked at the woman, gesturing for her to follow him as he walked the opposite way.

“What happened?”

Sir Edric replied, “The knife founded in the sentry bore the sigil of the bloodguard, according to Gaius. It’s sorcery. He talked about high priestesses and the old religion.”

He lowered his voice, looking around them before telling him, “There appears to be a traitor.”

Leon went rigid, taking the information in. “We must be careful about this. No one outside of those in that room can know about this. It’ll just cause unnecessary panic and most likely alert the traitor if there is one.”

“… and about the King? Earlier today.”

“The King was tired; there’s nothing more to it. And no more talking about it. We’re knights, we do not gossip.”

“Understood, Sir Leon. I’ll get the message across."

“Good. Thank you, Sir Edric.”

Leon went to his chambers. He lighted the candle on his desk and grabbed the stack of reports he had of the knights and their performance in the last month. If they had a traitor in their midst, and Cenred was gathering an army, he dreaded to think the kind of threat Camelot would be under. Even if the knights obeyed and stopped talking about the King and the incident, rumours were bound to form and get out. Be it by the serving staff, the guards or anyone else.

A weak King was a sign asking to be attacked. Even with Arthur to fall back to, he was still just the heir. The people would only listen to their King, and they’d feel unprotected if said King was losing his mind. He didn’t know Gaius’ diagnosis, but it wouldn’t be hard to guess that whatever was plaguing the King’s health was confusing him and making him see things that were not real. A hallucinating King was dangerous, for all of them.

He lost track of time assessing each individual knight and what they needed to work on, something that he’d be sure to include in their next training sessions, even if they had to be separated in groups. He also tried to pair up the ones he knew would work best together and which ones would need someone with more skills by their side, just in case.

He would share this with some of the knights the next day to discuss and see if there was anything he missed.

He blew out the candle that was about to go out by itself and stood up from the chair, stretching to relieve the tension in his muscles. Leon changed his clothes, leaving the used ones that needed to be washed aside and got ready for bed.

...

The next morning, he woke up very early, as usual, while the castle was still sleeping. He changed, putting on his armour, adjusting the chainmail and then putting on his belt. He sat down on his bed and put on his boots. He grabbed his cloak and brushed his hair before putting it on. Lastly, he chose to wear his gloves and picked up the stack of parchments he had been working on the night before.

He met with Sir Edric and a couple of guards to coordinate the new rotation for their patrolling inside the castle walls and were discussing the weaker points outside the castle that needed more vigilance.

Suddenly, Leon stiffened as if paralyzed. He couldn’t understand why, or what was it that his body was reacting to. It took him taking some deep breaths, surreptitiously, for him to get it.

Something burning.

Smoke.

He moved before he could consciously think about it, signalling for the men to follow him. They marched to the direction the smoke was coming for. It was the floor below, but there was no fire awaiting them.

They walked down the hallway, checking the torches, and then Leon found a handful of what might have been burnt straw, left in one of the air gaps.

“This was no accident.” He said, his hand clenched the handful of straw, showing it to the rest. “Be alert and search every inch of these halls. Tell the rest of the guards to be on the lookout.”

Leon watched them splitting up and doing as he said. A servant came and sighed in relief at seeing him. The servant boy bowed to him and waited until Leon acknowledged him to speak. “Prince Arthur requests your presence in the throne room, Sir.”

“Thank you. I’ll get going.”

The boy bowed once again, and Leon left.

“Sir Leon, I want you to lead the patrol that we spoke of yesterday to assess Cenred’s men. Choose the knights you wish to take and leave as soon as you’re able."

Arthur and Leon were the only ones inside the throne room.

“Of course, sire.”

“Is everything alright?”

Leon wasn’t sure if he should tell the prince and make him worry about something that might be nothing, but he just couldn’t stop feeling like there was something he was missing, something out of place that he just couldn’t figure out where it was to fix it.

“It could be nothing, but before you called for me, we found burnt straw in one of the air gaps next to the torches. It was planted there.” He explained, “I already got the guards and a couple on knights on it, but I’d just advise to be cautious.”

Arthur nodded, a hand holding his jaw. “Something odd is happening here. I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean, sire?”

Arthur looked at him, knowing that Leon had understood what he meant, but didn’t want to overstep.

“First my father, then the sentry, now this. And Cenred, let's not forget. It’s like we’re playing a game no one told us about.”

“I agree, but I believe that the only thing we’ve got left to do is pretend we know exactly what we’re doing. We do not know who we’re performing for, but we cannot appear weak.”

“You’re right.” Arthur agreed. “Have a safe journey, we’ll be awaiting your news.”

Leon bowed and left the room. He searched for his knights and on the way stopped a couple of servants asking to ready the horses and pack light provisions.

He knew already who’d he picked to join him, and that they’d be a small group. They needed to be quick and not call for attention. They weren’t going with the intent of fighting but just gathering information.

They rode out as soon as everything was ready and only stopped briefly to drink water and let the horses rest.

They slowed their horses’ trot as they approached the area where reports they had received indicated Cenred’s men might be located at this time. He signalled for silence as the knights surveyed the area. Sir Bertrand signed for them to come his way, and they ended at the edge of a cliff.

Leon had known to expect an army, yet the size of it took him by surprise. They were marching waving the flag of Essetir, they were fighting in Cenred’s name. He tried to mentally count the number of soldiers there so he could give the King and Prince Arthur an estimate. It was scary, the sight the army formed.

He signalled his men, and they turned around, riding back to Camelot as quickly as possible.

On the journey Leon tried to think about their chances, and what would be their best defence to protect Camelot. They were outnumbered and did not count with much time to prepare themselves for the attack.

...

They reached the citadel in a hurry; the stable boys were waiting for them outside the castle and took the horses the moment they dismounted.

He made his way to the throne room and called for the council. Some were already there, having expected a meeting. Gaius walked in a moment later and sat down next to him. Prince Arthur then made his way in and everybody on the table stood up.

Arthur didn’t sit nor did he stay close to the table, instead stood in front of them with a distance. Leon was about to start when the doors opened once more, welcoming the Lady Morgana.

She made her way past Arthur, resting with her back to one of the pillars. Then the Prince looked at him and asked him to share his findings.

“I estimate they will reach the city within two days.”

“And whose banners do they march?”

“Cenred, sire. We knew he was amassing an army.”

“How many men?”

“Twenty thousand, maybe more.”

“I fear that news of the king’s illness has spread beyond our borders.” The physician interrupted, but Leon personally agreed with his opinion this time. “Cenred sees an opportunity.”

“Then we must find a way to appease him.” Leon said. After the army he saw, he knew they wouldn’t be able to gather that many men and ready them for battle in so limited time.

“That’s not what my father would do.” The prince said, with his back turned to them. “He wouldn’t bow to our enemies."

“Forgive me, sire, we are outnumbered two to one.”

Gaius’ words made the prince turn around to look at him, walking closer in his frustrated state. “What concessions will Cenred insist on? What territories will he demand?”

“We do not have to give him anything, but it could buy us some time...” the older man tried to explain, but Prince Arthur was hearing none of it.

“It shows weakness, Gaius.”

Leon feared the prince might have misunderstood his earlier words, confusing stubbornness with bravery to not seem weak.

Prince Arthur then sat on the end of the table, in the King’s chair. He did not look himself, exactly, it felt like he was forcing a character, and Leon worried.

It reminded him of a younger Arthur, before he was old enough to be knighted but still needed to practice and training. Arthur would try and imitate the knights, forcing his voice to sound lower and raspy, but since he was still a boy, it only worked to highlight his lack of authority and age, the opposite of what he intended.

Now it felt like he was doing the same, taking the place of the King, pretending to be him instead of just being himself.

“We must prepare the city for siege.” Arthur announced.

Leon questioned his decision with the same contempt. “Are you sure that is wise?”

Arthur looked at him, then. “The castle is our strongest weapon. No army has ever taken Camelot."

“But what about the people in the outlying villages?”

“Give them refuge within the city walls.”

“And what of their houses? Their livelihoods?” Arthur was not even looking at him anymore, so he added a bit more strongly to make his point clear. “Cenred will destroy everything in his path.”

“But they will have their lives.” He replied, apathetic and Leon realised there was nothing more to debate. Arthur had made his choice. Leon could only obey.

“Go!” He turned to him, “ready the army.”

Leon nodded.

...

He gathered the knights and started giving out the respective orders, dividing the tasks to make them work faster. They couldn’t afford to lose time.

Weapons and armour were distributed; barricades and defences were erected and the knights prepared for battle. By nightfall, they had prepared as best as they could to face Cenred’s army. Leon gathered his knights, waiting for the prince.

Sir Edric kept shifting next to him, “It’s okay to be nervous.” He told him.

Edric huffed, “Keep the speech for the youngest, Leon.”

Leon saw a teasing smile in the knight’s face and rolled his eyes good naturally.

“It will be a tough battle.”

“We fight every battle like it’ll be a tough one, if you fight thinking that victory is assured, then you have already lost, right? I believe those were your words.”

Leon chuckled lightly, “Something like that, yeah.” He conceded.

“Your gauntlet.” Edric nodded to his right hand, “might want to fix that.”

Leon tried to adjust his right gauntlet as best as he could with his left hand, but he never quite managed to tie it as well as the other one.

Arthur entered the room then, and all conversation ceased. Leon felt his fellow knights ‘eyes on him, and a tension rising. He only looked at Arthur, and Arthur at him. Their early disagreement had to be forgotten about, because if they were going to go out there and fight for their lives, they couldn’t be holding grudges. Even if they were small and insignificant.

The knights were a team, and they could never forget that. Arthur was in charge and gave the commands, but Leon was still well respected by his mates, and there needn’t be any confusion about who to listen to.

Leon cared about them, and he cared about Camelot. He took an oath to protect and serve, always with the wellbeing of Camelot in mind. He had to believe that Arthur wanted the same, and he did.

Arthur offered Leon his arm, and Leon took it. They acknowledged each other and silently agreed to give their lives for the Kingdom.

Arthur raised his sword high above his head to the chant of “For the love of Camelot!”

Leon and all the other knights repeated the cry and marched into battle. The first fire-projectiles Cenred’s men threw their way were landing all around them, throwing off balance some of the knights and forcing others into shielding themselves.

Arthur took the lead, fighting in line with the knights as Cenred’s soldiers entered the citadel. The sound of clashing swords mixed with the screaming and the crackling of the burning around them.

“Hold the line!” He yelled at his men, encouraging them to keep fighting and not risking their position. They were in the defence;they needed to keep the enemy from advancing on them and forcing a retreat for as long as their bodies allowed.

Amid the battle he saw the King, disoriented and struggling to hold his sword properly, but trying hard to join the fight. Leon ran to him, stopping him and shielding him from the worst of it. “You need to go back, sire!” He urged. The King just shoved him away and moved past the knights, ignoring his warning.

Arrows started raining down on them, and Leon ran to one of the knights that had been hit. He helped him to feet and ordered him to go to Gaius.

“I’m fine, Sir Leon. I can keep fighting.” But even as the knight spoke, he struggled to hold his sword.

“You can keep fighting in the future once Gaius helps heal you. You won’t win a battle by losing your arm. Go back!”

He nodded and went to the castle.

Leon looked around. It did not look promising. More knights had to go back, too injured to keep fighting. Others were on the floor already, unmoving. Fireballs kept descending on them and burning the place, arrows now joined the mix.

Their wooden defences were being torn apart by the clash of swords and the pushing of hundreds of bodies.

Arthur commanded them to retreat, and so they obeyed. The lower town had been lost, now they needed to protect the citadel. He screamed orders at the top of his lungs, telling some of the knights to go up to protect from the climbers.

A fireball landed near him, and the force of the impact knocked him off his feet. From the ground, he could see nothing but flames, and for a moment, all he could think about was the Dragon's attack a year ago.

Leon could feel the heat of the fire burning his armour and hurting his skin, the strength of the beast that attacked them and killed the people. He couldn’t move, paralyzed by the flames that would not go out. He felt as if the air had left his body and he couldn't find a way to breathe it back in. He knew it made no sense; the dragon had been defeated a year ago, but still he felt like he was back in that moment. As if the dragon was still flying above ready to make fire rain on them.

Hands seized him, dragging him upright and braking through his confusion. He was a little distraught for a moment, as he used his companion to stay on his feet. He didn’t know how long it took for him to realize that it was Sir Cador helping him, and to understand what he was saying, but he managed to do it.

“Sir Leon, are you injured?” The older knight asked, assessing by himself the state of Leon.

Sir Cador was older than him, he had already been a well-respected knight when Leon was merely a squire. Back then, Leon could admit to himself, he had been a bit scared of Sir Cador but equally impressed by his talent as a swordsman.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He took a deep breath, “I can keep going.”

“You better be.” He said, handing Leon his sword back from the floor. “Let’s go.”

They joined the fight, but it didn’t take long for Leon to lose him in the sea of bodies and swords.

He kept his focus on Cenred’s soldiers, covering whenever he could some of his knights who were busy fighting to notice the weak points they left exposed. He pushed through the sweat and the aching muscles, fighting with all the strength he could muster. He lost count of how many men he slayed because still, there were too many of them.

For a moment he feared for his own health and wondered if he had inadvertently hurt his head because approaching them from inside the castle were skeletons armed with swords. He knew he hadn't lost his mind when the other knights at the end of the line turned around and reacted just like him when they saw these new enemies.

They were surrounded.

They needed to clear the path, fast.

They couldn’t fight on two fronts forever.

“On me!” He screamed, taking charge and marching forward to fight the dead soldiers. It turned out that fighting someone that was just bones, and dark magic was harder than to fight another soldier. There wasn’t any skin for them to stab, and whenever they managed to hit and break apart the bones, they would just move on their own accord.

You couldn’t kill someone that was already dead.

They kept fighting either way.

Finally, after a blow to the head, the skeleton started breaking apart and falling to the floor, unmoving. He checked the others, and all of them were just a collection of discarded bones on the stone floors.

A new feeling of satisfaction renewed him and induced by the adrenaline of battle he ran again to the front of the troops in the first line, fighting with more strength against the enemy army. It seemed that he wasn't the only one who felt this change, because soon they were managing to push back Cenred's men until they retreated.

...

The battle was over, and they had managed to protect the citadel. It took everything he had to stay standing instead of giving in to the exhaustion and falling to his knees right there in the middle of the street.

He went to the makeshift hospital, to see how the injured were managing and offer assistance if the physician needed it. He spoke with many of the knights, assuring them and comforting as he could, to ease their minds and letting them know that for the moment, it was over.

The sun was almost rising when Gaius ushered him out after checking him over for injuries, demanding for him to rest as well.

He reached his chambers and collapsed against the closed doors before sliding down to sit on the floor. His armour had been left at the hospital where he had taken it off so Gaius could examine him better, so he was just in his plain clothes. They were dirty, of course, but he needed a moment before he could change.

The cold floor against his palms helped calm him. He closed his eyes and let his head rest momentarily against the door. He was tired, his muscles reproaching him for all his exertion, and the sense of urgency hadn’t gone away yet, even though the battle had ended hours ago.

Leon was worried. For the knights who had fallen and never rose again, for those who had been seriously wounded, for the families and homes of everyone in the lower town, for the damage to the citadel and the castle.

He was also concerned about what the battle itself meant. Cenred was ready to conquer Camelot, and Leon knew this wouldn’t be his last attempt. Not only because of the army he had gathered, but also because Cenred had managed to use magic to fight them. He undeniably had that advantage over them, as he didn’t mind resorting to measures like magic to defeat them.

They couldn’t fight magic the same way. The King would never agree to that, and Leon understood why. Magic was meant to corrupt even the kindest person in the lands. It would drive one to madness and ruin. There was no doubt that Cenred would fall to its charms. Magic was dangerous. The skeleton soldiers were proof of that, too. Leon trusted his battle-brothers, but he knew none of them could fight tirelessly against an enemy who couldn’t die.

He still didn’t understand how they managed to win, if he were to be honest. Perhaps Cenred’s sorcerer couldn’t maintain the enchantment for that long; perhaps it was always meant to be a momentary distraction. Whatever the reason, he would never know.

And if that weren’t enough, there was also the matter of the traitor. The skeletons had appeared from within, so there was no longer any doubt about whether there was one or not. Now the question was whether this traitor was the one using magic or if their role had simply been to help someone with magic get into the city.

He’d be sure to stay vigilant. They needed to learn the identity of the traitor before it was too late.

He’d barely been able to sleep when he was awakened by knocking on his door. Leon sat up in his bed, running his hands over his face and hair to revive his appearance.

He got out of bed with a “Come in,” loud enough to be heard through the wood.

The servant girl came in with a tray with a simple breakfast. She curtsied respectfully before talking, “The King will be giving a speech after breakfast. He requested your presence.”

“Of course, I’ll be there.” He watched as she set the food on his desk.

“Do you need anything else, Sir?”

“No, thank you. You may leave.”

She nodded quietly and made her way out. Leon had his breakfast then changed clothes and combed his hair.

He left his room, ready to hear his King. He stood to the side to have a wider view of the room without making it obvious he was watching the rest of the room.

He listened attentively to the king’s words but paid even more attention to everyone in the room’s reactions to the news. The physician reacted to the news of the traitor, looking at his apprentice for a few seconds before returning his attention to the King, but that could mean nothing more than Gaius being worried.

Surprisingly, the strangest interaction was that between Lady Morgana and the prince’s manservant.

Lady Morgana was smiling, in keeping with the praise she was receiving, but her eyes never left Merlin’s. Similarly, the apprentice never took his eyes off her. There was no way Leon could correctly assume anything out of that, but the complicity with which they regarded each other was enough of a warning.

Merlin was Arthur’s servant, and Leon knew they were closer than usual. Something that had been evident early on when Merlin managed to keep the position instead of being dismissed like the dozen servants the prince had had before him. However, that didn’t explain why he and the Lady would share that closeness as well.

The common denominator on both occasions was Merlin, and although Leon honestly didn’t believe the servant was behind any evil act, he would be on the lookout just in case from now on. That was his job.

Once he finished speaking, the King made everyone leave the room, except for the prince and Leon, who were asked to stay.

“How did this happen?” The King asked. “Morgana may have found the magical vessel, but someone put it there. How?”

“We do not know yet, father. If the traitor was outsmarted by Morgana, they probably ran away along with Cenred and his men.” Arthur admitted, and the King gritted his teeth.

“Sir Leon, did you find anything just now?” The King addressed him.

“Nothing worth reporting yet, Sire. I’ll keep you informed when I find something of substance.”

“That is what I like to hear. When you do, nothing of ifs and maybes. You could learn a thing or two Arthur.”

Leon tried not to respond physically, not feeling comfortable with the comparison and the position it put him in relation to Arthur. Not that it mattered much, as it was clear that the comment had been more directed at Arthur than Leon himself.

“We need to be careful. Now more than ever. Magic is seeping through our walls and if we do not fix this soon, I fear for the future of Camelot.”

“Of course, Father. We will get to the bottom of this.”

Leon nodded his agreement.

The King dismissed them, and they left the room.

“Let’s go to my chambers. We’ll be able to talk privately there.” Arthur said and walked away without waiting for a response. Leon followed.

“What do you think of the traitor, Sir Leon?”

“Pardon me?”

“You don’t agree the traitor escaped with Cenred, so what do you think? You may speak freely.”

“Well... Sire, I believe the traitor must be someone that’s been here long enough that we wouldn’t consider them a new face, and so we’d notice if they were to leave abruptly, even more so considering the timing. I think they’re still here. They know we got no way of proving anything without having caught them in the act.”

“That makes sense.”

“My question is whether the traitor is the one who possesses the magic that brought the dead soldiers or if they helped someone with magic infiltrate the vaults.”

“Either way, it would have gone unnoticed; we were in the middle of the fight. Soldiers and knights were moving around all over, as were personnel helping with the wounded or sheltering citizens. No one would have questioned it.” Arthur paused, leaning against his desk. “Except someone did. Morgana found the magical vessel in the vault somehow.”

“Indeed. I was wondering what her testimony was, if you had heard it. We owe her a lot, no doubt about it. She might not even realise but anything that led her there could be of importance in figuring out the traitor’s identity.”

“I’m afraid she only spoke to my father, and he shared the message with me, but without details. I wanted to talk to Morgana, but she was understandably tired.” He explained.

“Of course, sire.”

“I could try to speak to her tomorrow, before she forgets the small details. I’ll be sure to tell you about it.”

Over the next few days, they tried, but then they had to accept that there was nothing they could do at this point to find the traitor, at least not yet. All they could do was be cautious and watch out for anything unusual. Leon, for his part, had a couple of people in mind to focus on, but it was a very delicate subject for him to say anything about it to the king or the prince without having anything concrete.

...

Weeks passed, and little by little, the damage was rebuilt. The proper funerals were held, most of the wounded were healed, and Camelot returned to a degree of normalcy.

Leon was... not very well. He was tired and fed up with not being able to sleep because of the nightmares that plagued his mind. At first, he understood; it was normal to have reactions after battles as tough as the siege had been.

What he didn’t understand was why his nightmares didn’t revolve around that last fight and instead were all focused on the dragon. More than a year had passed since that attack, and he couldn’t fathom how it continued to affect him now when he had managed to overcome it at the time.

What also bothered him was that the nightmares didn’t even focus entirely on the dragon itself, but rather on its fire. At night, he was tormented by images of the flames and the suffocating sensation of the heat they radiated. And as if that weren’t enough, during the day, while awake, he wasn’t safe from these involuntary reactions he had when faced with fire.

The smell of smoke from the chimneys made him stop in his tracks when he patrolled the city, thinking they were facing an imminent attack.

He thought he’d get over it eventually, but the days kept passing and with each came less hours of sleep. At first, it didn’t matter, because Leon could pretend nothing was happening and everything was normal, without any problems. But it was only a matter of time before the exhaustion from all his daily work and the exhaustion from not being able to rest well began to accumulate, and others noticed.

“What has gotten into you?”

“What?”

“That's twice I get a hit on you in under ten minutes.” Sir Edric said, waving his sword slightly to make his point. “I know I’m good, but I also know you’re not bad.”

Leon sighed, sticking his sword in the grass. “It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”

Edric did the same. “You’ve been tired for a while now. Do not try to deny it, you hide it well, but I know you.”

“It will pass.”

“Maybe you should see Gaius about it.”

“I’m not injured.” He argued.

“You know as well as I do that it is not always a flesh wound.”

“Yeah. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He stopped sparring then and focused on observing the knights to correct their postures when necessary and highlight what they should focus on more, depending on what weak points they showed when fighting each other.

A couple of hours later he ended the training session and let the knights go. After everyone had freshened up and changed, several decided to go hang out at the tavern to decompress a bit. Leon went with them, with the idea that spending time relaxing and drinking might tire him up enough that he’d get to sleep without nightmares waking him up.

He had been having a good time, having fun with the men while drinking at the same table.

The tavern was quite crowded, with a lot of noise so they had to raise their voices to communicate, but for some reason that made it more fun. Leon felt relieved to be having a good time, lately due to lack of sleep he felt that it was increasingly easy for something to irritate and annoy him.

He didn't like being someone who gets angry quickly, so he was starting to really consider asking his doctor for help so he wouldn't lose his old self. Someone who could breathe and stay calm before acting.

He really didn't expect to see Gaius in the tavern of all places, he'd never seen the physician there before, and he almost took it as a sign to ask for his professional advice. He would have, if it weren't for the strange and disrespectful way Gaius was acting.

Leon was ready to ignore that they had collided, he got up from his chair without looking and Gaius was passing by it hadn't been either of their faults. But Gaius insulted him, and yet he was ready to ignore it once more and carry on as if nothing had happened, accepting that Gaius was already an old man who could become confused.

Gaius continued to mock him anyway, and although Leon respected him as a professional, he could no longer let the way he was being insulted go.

He was a knight of Camelot, and Gaius was mocking and insulting him in front of everyone. Despite himself, he couldn't let something like that go. Not in front of his fellow knights and the rest of the men in the tavern. He couldn't leave a message in which anyone could insult a royal knight and walk away unpunished, it would be a total display of weakness.

He reached his breaking point when Gaius spat his drink in his face, grabbing his sword and demanding that Gaius arm himself as well. A sword was quickly thrust before Gaius, and only then did the old man seem to come to his senses.

“I'm just a foolish old man who’s had far too much to drink. Please accept my apologies.” he said before raising his voice, “A flagon of ale for my friends!”

Leon looked around and the men in the room seemed to be content enough with that offer. Part of him was relieved, he wouldn't have liked fighting Gaius, knowing there wasn't much the old man could've done.

He sheathed back his sword, “then I accept your apology.”

Leon sat back with the knights and slowly the mood started to go back to how it had been before. They started a new round of dice and conversations resumed. At one point Gaius had even apologised again bringing the jar of ale himself in a show of his good faith.

That night he was so unbearably tired that falling asleep was no struggle.

He should have known something else would happen, things were never that good. His only hope was praying that Gaius would still feel somewhat guilty for his abruptness last night that he would have something to cure whatever it was that caused boils to show up on his face overnight. a small comfort was learning that he wasn't the only one affected. it was short lived, however, because if everyone at the tavern had got it, they were at risk of an outbreak of this ill reaching even more people, especially since they didn't know what had caused it.

Leon felt like he was prepared for most things. He was not one to cave under pressure and he wasn’t prone to panicking. He took on most leading roles when assigned on patrols and he won most of his matches. he was a skilled swordsman, still he was more than adequate at handling different weapons. he was good at researching and was diligent with his reports to the council. He took his job seriously.

Point being, he felt like he was a well-prepared person to be in his position, ready to fulfil his role in Camelot.

He had not been ready to process the fact that Gaius had been possessed by a goblin and had been causing all sorts of problems right under their nose. He understood it hadn’t been Gaius’ fault and was glad he was free of the control of the monster, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit awkward about the situation. Like the king had said, no one was immune to magic’s corruption.

It bothered him, the number of threats they couldn’t fight either because they didn’t know were there or because there was barely a way to counterattack magical attacks.

If he also used it as an excuse to pretend he was alright and did not need sleeping draughts, then no one had to know. He knew there was no shame in getting medicine from the physician, as a knight he had suffered more than enough wounds to be grateful for the opportunity of having Gaius healing him. This felt different, for some reason. He couldn’t just go to him and ask for his injuries to be checked, for he had no physical wounds.

However, he would never jeopardise the kingdom’s safety out of his own pettiness or stubbornness. He allowed himself a couple more days before going to Gaius. He wouldn’t risk not being able to do his job properly – react fast enough, hold his ground in a fight or be attentive in case of threats – and he also did miss being able to rest properly.

Gaius was very understanding, and Leon rationally knew he would be, but he was still grateful for his discretion and advice.

When Leon explained his situation, and his own uncertainty about it, Gaius was quick to reassure him it was normal. It didn’t matter that the dragon attack had been more than a year ago, because it made sense that his new encounter with fire attacks would bring back those dark memories and feelings. All the knights that died protecting Camelot, and the people they couldn’t protect. his brothers in battle dead right next to him. It had all been so unfair. He had managed to stop thinking about it then, there always more threats to keep an eye on and more battles to fight in. After Cenred’s attack it had all come back full force, stopping his mind from getting any rest.

...

The courtyard was quiet considering the early hour of the day. There were several people moving around, some with jugs of water and others heading towards the stables. The guards were at their spots, more than the usual crew. It was a quiet morning, but it wouldn’t stay like that for too long. The preparations for the melee would start any moment now, and soon the streets would be a mess of people coming to watch.

“I didn’t see your name on the list,” Edric said to Leon as they walked.

“I’m not participating this time.” Leon admitted.

He was excited to see the melee, and he would’ve loved to fight in the tournament, but he knew he hadn’t been training properly and resting well lately. It had only been a week since he started with the sleeping draughts, and while they were extraordinary help, he hadn’t gotten back to his usual routine yet.

“But I saw your name there. Are you excited?”

“I already spoke with Sir Darien, got a bet going. He arrived earlier today.”

“Sir Darien is good.” Leon added, “What did you bet?”

“I know, but he never fully recovered from that time he broke his left arm. I only must last more than him.” Edric explained, “Nothing much, really. But drinks at the tavern are on him when I win.”

They chuckled, “Confident, are you?” Leon joked.

“Will you cheer for me?” Edric teased, “I could be persuaded to share a drink or two.”

“I would,” Leon nodded solemnly, “if I didn't know Darien and his resilience.”

Edric playfully elbowed him, "I'm going to remember this great betrayal. I thought we were friends."

Leon was about to respond when a scream cut through the moment, alerting them and instinctively making them react. Leon’s hand rushed to his sheathed sword, and he looked around trying to spot the source of the noise.

It wasn’t hard to, when the screamed “You bastard!” was directed at him, a woman pointing with her finger and moving closer to them. It took him a moment to recognise who it was, but even that didn’t clear up why she was making her to him in such manner.

“You think you can just play with us like that, so cruelly! Why? Because we’re not as noble as you?” The sentry’s sister seethed.

Leon was stunned silent, and he honestly had no idea what was going on. The woman threw herself at him, hitting him even though she wasn't really hurting him. “You’re a bastard! Liar!” She cried out, “Why? Do you think it funny? Giving me hope and then just- “

The guards reached them and hauled the woman away. She trashed in their hold, screaming; her words were lost in tears and incoherent murmurs. The guards started dragging her away, arresting her for assaulting a knight.

Sir Montague came trotting then and stood next to Leon.

Sir Edric turned, mouth agape, stuck between wanting to ask what on earth that had been about and just too shocked to say anything. Leon honestly felt similarly. He could see the eyes that the scene attracted, and it wasn’t helping.

“I don’t understand,” he said simply.

“That was the sentry’s sister.” Montague said.

“I know that. I don’t understand what caused such a scene. Last time I saw her was weeks ago, when the guard was attacked.”

“I think... It probably has to do with the sentry’s death.”

Leon stopped and looked at Sir Montague dead in the eyes. “The sentry was alive.”

Montague looked uncomfortable, shifting in his place. “No... When we- when I accompanied her to see her brother at Gaius’, like you asked, he was already dead.”

“What?” Leon asked loudly, “But Gaius said he would make a full recovery. He was fine when I left the room.”

“Gaius was wrong, Sir.”

Leon clutched his forehead in his hands, frustrated. “Why was I not informed of this?”

Montague stammered through his answer, not really having one. Edric didn’t know, but he could assume. “There were too many things going on at once. Cenred and his army, the siege, the tr- the magical attack. All of us were too busy, you especially Leon. We can’t blame anyone for forgetting about this. We lost too many people afterwards.”

Leon nodded, “You’re right. Still, I would like to be informed in the future. This, “He gestured at the air around them, alluding to the situation, “can’t happen again. I can’t not know what the people are talking about, especially when guards and knights are involved.”

“Of course, Sir Leon.” Montague nodded.

“You can go prepare for the melee. I’m going to try and fix this.”

“Thanks,” Edric patted his shoulder, “Good luck.” He took Sir Montague and guided him to the field for some last-minute training.

Leon followed the guards. Luckily, they hadn’t made it to the cells yet.

“Guards!” He called, making them stop on their tracks.

He walked to them and ordered them to release the woman. The guards hesitated, “But she attacked you, a royal knight.”

Leon looked at the woman, teary-eyed and defeated, “She’s a grieving woman. She acted impulsively, but her brother gave his life for the safety of the castle and therefore of Camelot.”

“Release her.” He commanded and they did.

“Why are you doing this?” She asked.

“I’m sorry for loss. I had no idea about your brother, I assure you, I would never mock or play with something so delicate. I was told by the physician that he would recover, so that’s what I told you.”

“I’m sorry too,” She replied, trembling, “for losing my composure like that. I’ve been trying, dealing with it as best as I can. My brother was all I had, and... I don’t know, seeing you laughing so carefree angered me, even though it wasn’t your fault that I lost him.”

“I won’t fault you for acting lead by grief, but I do ask that something like this won’t happen again. This time I can help, but I won’t be able to step in if you insult or attack a knight.”

Her cheeks reddened, ashamed. “I swear it. It won’t happen again.”

...

Leon made his way to Gaius’ chambers to collect the vial with the sleeping draught the physician had been making for him. He hadn’t wanted Merlin to go to his room to give the medicine to him as he knew he used to do as Gaius’s apprentice. Leon was still wary of the prince’s manservant.

He had been keeping an eye on him and had started listening to what people in the castle though. The consensus was that Merlin was a big mystery, no one truly knew how he still had his job when he was constantly seen arguing with Arthur and doing his job begrudgingly. There were rumours and speculation, of course, but Leon would rather not dwell on them. Most people liked Merlin even if they agreed he kept to himself more than most.

Leon knew, from years of experience, that the servants tended to confide in each other, needing to keep an eye on the other’s back, and in consequence they tender to grow closer and form bonds. Merlin was apparently not in on that.

From what he gathered, everyone agreed that he was polite enough but wasn’t trying to make friends either. The only exception was Gwen, who had become Merlin’s best friend in no time. Maybe he could talk to Gwen. She’d always been a good judge of character, and he trusted her to give him an honest opinion about Merlin if he were to ask.

Leon knocked on the door and waited for Gaius to open the door. He got no answer, so he knocked again, with more force. Finally, the door opened slightly. Leon’s eyes opened involuntary with surprise and confusion in equal measure.

Gaius did not open the door, nor did Merlin. Instead, standing in its place with the door half open was a stranger. With one hand, he held the door in place, while his body, half-leaning against the frame, blocked the view inside the room. There were no sounds from inside the room, so even though he couldn't see, he could assume the stranger was alone.

The stranger who happened to be very shirtless.

Leon wasn't someone who was easy to shock to the point of being speechless, but the sight of the man in front of him was enough to do it.

He tried to look away but couldn't stop looking at the man's chest. Heat crawled up his neck, he felt embarrassed to be so obviously affected by something so common, as if he were some dumb naive boy. The uniqueness of the situation was the worst, because he had never lost his cool so effortlessly like this before. He swallowed and willed his eyes to meet the man’s.

The man made no move to move and let Leon pass, and he didn't seem to have any intention of introducing himself properly to a knight - Leon's clothes and armour more than enough for him to understand that he should at least bow.

Instead, and to Leon's confusion, the man looked at him with disdain. He knew he had never met the guy before, so he had no reason to hold a grudge or any type. But also, he hadn’t expected the sentry’s sister to be angry at him and cause a scene in the courtyard.

“My name’s Leon.” He said when he realized that the other guy really wasn't going to introduce himself.

The man still said nothing, and Leon was growing annoyed with the situation. He just wanted to quickly pick his vial from Gaius and leave before anyone noticed his absence.

“May I?” He asked, even though he shouldn’t – he was the knight, and this peasant was being incredibly disrespectful, but Leon had more important matters in his mind. - indicating behind the man so he could step into the room.

“The physician is gone.” He said but still moved to let him pass.

“Do you know where he went?”

“To the lower town, if I heard right. A man broke his leg working, you know, a hard, tiresome job as normal people do to get by at the end of the day.”

“Yeah...” He agreed, feeling like he was missing something. “I’m a knight.” Leon was more than familiar with getting injured while working.

“Really?” The man drawled, sarcastically, “I couldn’t tell.” He looked him up and down, and Leon began to feel self-conscious. He didn’t understand what his problem was, and the fact that he still didn’t know who this man was had him on edge. He couldn’t be obvious about it, but still he made sure his hand was close to his sword, just in case.

“So, the physician left, was his apprentice with him too?” Leon tested him, not giving away any names trying to see what the man knew.

“Merlin.” He said pointedly, “is more than just an apprentice. He’s probably running after Arthur, unfortunately that’s his job too, apparently.” He shrugged, but he was clearly bothered.

“He is the prince’s manservant.” He defended.

He looked around, trying to spot where Gaius might have kept his vials for the week. They were three per week, since Gaius advised not to take one every night, so he was meant to see how he distributed his rations, some days when he was very tired from training or something he tried not to take it and save it for some night when he really couldn't close his eyes because of the nightmares.

Merlin’s bedroom door was open, and Leon had a moment where everything clicked in his head. He looked back at the man – shirtless, guarded and defensive of Merlin- and he drew the most obvious conclusion he could. Perhaps this man was Merlin’s lover. He didn’t look uncomfortable to be alone in Gaius’ chambers. Leon was sure he had never seen the man before, but since Leon was in and out of the castle too much, that didn’t mean much.

“But who are you?” he asked, finally.

“Gwaine.”

Oh, that made a lot more sense. “You’re the one who saved the prince’s life. The King wants to thank you personally.”

“So I’ve heard.”

It baffled him how Gwaine seemed not to care — as if he was above it all, even above a king. Leon would’ve expected him to be anxious or nervous about meeting the King. It was a huge honour; not everyone was worth the hassle. Considering how the prince had spoken about Gwaine before—explaining how he’d gotten into a fight in a tavern when some bandits barged in, and he was outnumbered, but then this man had stepped in and fought alongside him and his servant. They won, but Gwaine was injured while saving Arthur

It was hard to see the heroic man Arthur described in the disrespectful and arrogant man standing before him.

“What is it that you’re looking for?” Gwaine asked before Leon could say anything else.

“What?”

“You keep looking around, you must want something from the physician. But – “he paused, looking Leon up and down, “you don’t seem hurt.”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

Gwaine chuckled dryly, “of course.”

Ignoring Gwaine, who simply stood against the table with his hands at his sides, resting them on the wood, Leon began searching Gaius's shelves and furniture for his order. He finally found them, the three vials with a note with his name on them. He grabbed them but paused momentarily when he saw another vial, almost identical to his, with the name Morgana on it.

“You’re not stealing, are you?”

“I’m a knight.” He said, offended.

“That doesn’t really answer my question.”

That made him turned around, narrowing his eyes in annoyance. “A knight would never do something as low as stealing. We swore an oath to serve with honour and respect.”

“So why are you sneaking around and stealing the physician's things?”

“I’m not sneaking around. I knocked!” He exclaimed. “And I was supposed to meet Gaius here anyway.”

He was losing his patience, which wasn’t usual for him, but there was something about Gwaine that made it too easy for him to react. It wasn’t just Gwaine’s attitude that got under his skin—it was how easily he’d gotten under Leon’s. He sighed, calming down. “I shouldn’t even explain myself to you.”

Gwaine was smirking, and it was kind of pissing Leon off. The man clearly disliked him and enjoyed getting a rise out of him, so Leon wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He grabbed his vials and left, not caring about saying goodbye or excusing himself when Gwaine hadn’t even bothered to introduce himself before. Leon was polite and respectful, but he was in a hurry, and he had more important things to take care of than some ungrateful, arrogant man.

...

The next day, Leon was coordinating the routes of the guards for the melee with the head of the guards when Arthur came looking for him. He was used to giving his reports to King Uther directly, so Arthur stepping in wasn’t a surprise considering the delicate state of the King’s health lately.

What was surprising was that Arthur didn’t seem the least bit interested in knowing the placement of the guards or how long they’d be stationed before rotating.

Instead, he approached Leon with a strange request.

“Pardon me?” Leon asked, blinking.

The prince rolled his eyes, “Boots, Leon. I want all the knights’ boots to be taken to the throne room. The idiot of a manservant I have, and his new friend have the task of cleaning them until they shine.”

“... I guess I can do that.”

“Good! Excellent. Thank you.” He grinned, already turning to go. “I have training to get to. Merlin will help me with my armour first, but after that, he’ll go to the throne room to start polishing.”

The knights found the request to leave their boots at the throne room just as absurd as he did, but none of them were going to turn down the offer of having them be cleaned and polished, especially when the request came from the prince of Camelot himself.

Outside the throne room, Gwaine stood with his arms crossed, looking irritated. The deep frown on his face made his displeasure obvious.

“I should have known it’d be you.” Leon said.

He caught Gwaine’s attention and the man straightened up, glancing at him. “You came here to gloat?”

“I honestly had no idea you were here.”

“Where are your boots? Or have you already left them inside?”

Leon hadn’t planned to leave his boots. The other knights had already turned theirs in, and it was more than enough. Besides, his were already clean. When you spend most nights wide awake and searching for distractions to wear yourself out, cleaning boots in the middle of the night is no big deal.

A part of him would have liked to leave his boots for Gwaine to clean after he had been so insolent, but with the little he knew about the guy he was pretty sure that he would find a way to ruin his boots someway, on purpose just to annoy him.

“They’re already cleaned, “he said with a small smile, “but I’m sure the prince would appreciate your enthusiasm.”

Behind Gwaine he saw Gwen passing by with a basket in her hands, she hadn't seen them, but Leon knew he could reach her if he continued down the hall. He spared one last glance at Gwaine before nodding and leaving.

...

He caught up with Gwen easily and escorted her to the room where the maids washed the clothes. On the way, he explained that he needed to talk to her, but it was a delicate subject and they needed privacy. Gwen agreed to meet him in his chambers in an hour.

When there was a knock at the door, he already knew it would be Gwen on the other side. He opened it and let her in. Gwen brought a tray of food, which—although he hadn’t ordered it—he was grateful for, as he hadn’t eaten anything yet.

“I needed an excuse to come to your chambers,” Gwen explained, leaving the food on the table.

He would have liked to say that it wasn’t necessary and that she didn’t need excuses, but he knew that wouldn’t be entirely true. Rumours spread quickly in the castle. And the last thing either of them needed was for word to spread that there was something going on between them.

Leon knew Gwen would never assume something inappropriate if he asked to see her, but there was no way the rest of the palace would believe the same.

It wasn’t public knowledge, but it also wasn’t a secret, that Gwen’s mother had worked for Leon’s family before she died. She had been a maid, mostly tending to his mother. Leon’s mother, Elaine, had a soft spot for Gwen—being the only young girl in their home. Elaine had always wanted a daughter, though she had only given birth to two sons: Leon’s older brother, Edmund, and himself.

So she doted on Gwen as much as was acceptable, considering Gwen was a servant’s child. Always offhandedly and subtly, but Leon knew Elaine had been the reason Gwen got her position in the royal household as Lady Morgana’s maid.

His childhood had been shared with Gwen and her brother, Elyan, until they moved away to live closer to Gwen’s father’s work in the citadel. When Leon also moved away to train as a knight, he regained a closer bond with her, as she was the only truly familiar face he had.

Still, they had to be cautious due to the difference in their social status. But he knew her. Gwen was someone careful—always knowing how to walk the line without falling.

She was good at judging a person’s character, and she was kind and easily trusted. Most importantly, she was honest. Leon knew he could ask her for a real opinion on someone and she would give it—even if she tried to be careful not to be rude.

“It’s alright,” he said. “I haven’t had lunch yet.”

He sat at the table and motioned for her to do the same.

“What is it that you needed to talk about?” Gwen asked.

“I require your insight. I know that you are friends with Arthur’s manservant, Merlin.”

“Oh. Is this because of the tavern incident? Because that wasn’t Merlin, exactly. It was Gwaine. I think prince Arthur already handled the situation.”

Leon blinked.

When and how had Gwen met Gwaine?

“Gwaine?”

“You know... The man that saved Arthur. He had a situation at the tavern, ordered more than he could pay for. Merlin had Arthur handle it. I thought that was what you were asking about. According to the squires, the knights were involved in whatever punishment Arthur gave them.”

“Yeah, I mean- Arthur just asked for the knights‘ boots. He’s having Merlin and Gwaine polish them all. I didn’t know what they had done, though. This is certainly... revealing.”

“Oh.” Gwen bit her lip. “Sorry. I thought that was what you wanted to talk about. I shouldn’t have assumed – I should have let you finish talking. You can ask now. Not that – You don’t need my permission, of course. You’re a knight and – “

“It’s okay, Gwen.” He interrupted gently, knowing she would not stop rambling on her own. “That information was still helpful, even if it wasn’t what I had in mind.”

She nodded, visibly relieved.

“I just wanted to know what your opinion was on Merlin. Honestly. What do you make of him?”

Gwen hesitated, clearly thinking. Leon let her, turning his attention to the food so she wouldn’t feel pressured

“Merlin is my friend. I do trust him, and I think he is good,” she said at last. “He cares about everyone, practically, especially Arthur. He’s always running around to help him with whatever he needs. He’s smart too. He always knows what’s going on, which is impressive, really.”

Leon saw Gwen's expression shift. Her brow furrowed and she looked away, nervously playing with her fingers, without even realizing it.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Why do you wish to know more about Merlin?” she asked, confused.

“It’s nothing bad.” He tried to reassure her.

“You wouldn’t be asking me in secret if it was something good.”

He gave her a look, which she gave back.

“There is something odd about him, but I don’t know yet if it’s good or bad. That is what I’m trying to figure out. Arthur trusts him, and you do as well, so he can’t be all bad. I’m just trying to make sense of things, I promise.”

Gwen sighed, biting her lip and adjusting her sleeves without noticing.

“Lately he has been... weird,” she said slowly. “But – I think he’s sad. I don’t know why, I’m trying to figure it out as well. He used to be so happy, when I first met him. Always smiling and joking around. Lately he’s been a bit down, like he’s always worrying about something. He barely talks to me.”

“Camelot has been through a lot, lately. He’s always in the middle of things with the prince.” Leon said in response, trying to ease Gwen’s mood with an explanation.

“That is true.” She picked up a piece of bread. “I don’t know how to help you, Leon. I truly believe Merlin is a good person. I wouldn’t be his friend if I didn’t.”

“I know.”

...

His conversation with Gwen had been more enlightening than what he had anticipated.

He knew from the start that Gwen would never say something that could incriminate Merlin. Merlin was her friend, and she cared about him, Leon could tell. She would never jeopardise Merlin’s safety, even if it was Leon the one asking the questions. Gwen would never betray Merlin’s name or speak badly about him.

Still, she expressed her worry about Merlin and his behaviour lately, which was indicator enough that something was happening. Something that was draining his energy and optimism, enough that Gwen noticed and felt the need to comment about it.

Night had fallen in Camelot, and everyone had already retired to their rooms. Everyone except the guards and the knights on night patrol. Leon was one of them. It wasn't on purpose, or with the intention of avoiding sleep but because he wasn't going to participate in the melee it made sense for him to stay patrolling at night while the rest of the knights could rest after training all day and preparing for the tournament the next day.

They were trying their new patrol routes, two or three guards with an assigned knight. The guards could clearly defend themselves and were trained for the role they played, but the training of a knight was somewhat more intense, and they were more prepared to fight. They felt it was needed, after the sentry’s attacked and death, to make sure no one patrolled by themselves and to be ready just in case.

The fact that they hadn't found the murderer or the traitor didn't sit well with Leon. They couldn’t just forget about the threat because the moment had passed, and he knew the King was still waiting for them to bring in results.

The sound of metal colliding with each other broke the near silence of the night, causing them to stop in their tracks to distinguish where the noise was coming from. Leon had heard it enough times to recognize the sound of swords fighting. He could understand wanting to be ready for melee, but it didn't make sense that someone would be practicing at this time of night, when they had had all day to do so.

 So, he had to assume that something was wrong. He quickened his pace and signalled for the guards to follow him. They found the source of the sound, but Leon didn't expect that when he opened the door to the room and entered, what he would see was Gwaine with his sword to Sir Oswald’s throat and Sir Ethan sprawled on the floor.

“What’s going on?” He demanded to know.

He couldn’t help but fix his gaze on Gwaine. His focus was drawn to the way he held himself, so confident in his stance and so strong in his grip on the sword.

Gwaine turned to look at him.

Sir Oswald took the opportunity and punched Gwaine, sending him to the floor. The sword clanged against the stone floor and Gwaine fell to his knees, head down. Defeated.

Leon watched, knowing there was nothing he could do.

“This man attacked me!” Sir Oswald screamed, between pants, looking dishevelled. “I demand an audience with the King!”

The guards moved, as protocol indicated, and grabbed Gwaine by his arms and hauled him up. They arrested him. Leon gave them a nod, in agreement, and the guards took Gwaine to the cells.

“I’ll alert the King, Sir Oswald, Sir Ethan.” Leon said, in autopilot. “Are you alright or do you require the physicians aid?”

“We are okay.” Sir Ethan said. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”

“We appreciate your help, however.” Sir Oswald added.

There was a glint in his eyes Leon didn’t like. He nodded his acknowledgement anyway.

Leon looked at Merlin, which – surprise! – Was somehow involved. Merlin quickly and silently left the room.

“I’ll let you sort yourselves out. Guards will let you know when the King’s ready.” He said at last and left the room as well.

Once he stepped outside into the hall, be in called out Merlin’s name, making the man stop in his tracks. He walked to the end of the corridor to meet Merlin. The servant was nervous, he kept fidgeting with his sleeves, looking around like he wanted to leave as soon as possible. He had a moment, where apparently, he remembered himself, and awkwardly bowed to Leon.

This didn’t surprise the knight. He had seen how Merlin behaved with Arthur. If the prince never demands you to be proper with nobility, not seriously, then is it really surprising when you forget to bow to a knight?

“What were you doing in Sir Oswald’s chambers?” Leon questioned.

“Arthur assigned me to look after Sir Oswald, I couldn't exactly say no.”

“I understand that. I meant, at this time?”

It was too late for Sir Oswald to require a servant’s help. He should’ve been sleeping.

“I- I wanted to make sure he had everything he needed. It can get cold, you know? And I – um. Well. Sir Oswald hasn’t exactly been... easy... to tend to. He’s very picky.”

Leon tried not to smile, but he could see why Arthur and Gwen found certain charm in Merlin. Still, he couldn’t condone talking about another knight like that.

“What happened tonight?” Leon asked.

He wasn’t sure if he could completely trust Merlin’s recalling of the events, but he still needed to ask. If the King accepted the audience – Leon was sure he would – then Arthur would want to know how and why his servant was involved. Especially since it also involved the man he had invited to the castle himself.

“Gwaine is innocent, I swear it.” Merlin said, his voice didn’t waver.

“He had his sword pointed at a knight's throat. That doesn't look innocent."

“It was self-defence, Sir Leon.” Merlin’s jaw clenched, just for a second, before he masked it with a shrug.

Merlin didn’t look like he was lying. He looked like a man who was exhausted from telling the truth too often and never being believed. Leon knew that as a servant, his voice often went unheard, and he could understand the frustration that might build over time. But – Merlin also looked like he was holding something back. As if there were more things he wanted to say but couldn’t.

“You may go.” Leon said instead of responding, “but you might need to be present at the King’s hearing.”

Merlin nodded his understating and walked away. Leon saw his rushed steps; shoulders hunched like the weight of something unseen dragged behind him. He knew Gwen had said that something was worrying Merlin, but what kind of burden could a simple servant carry? Arthur wasn’t exactly easy to deal with, he knew, but this felt like it went beyond something so trivial.

...

The sun had barely started to rise. The King had been informed and agreed to hold the audience. Guards went to inform Sir Oswald and Ethan that they would be heard. Leon went to the cells. His head was a mess. He didn’t know what to think.

He liked to think he trusted Arthur’s judgement, he had seen Arthur growing and learning how to lead to one day know how to rule. Arthur had sung Gwaine’s praises. He brought the man to the castle, and the King was going to thank him for his bravery and heroism.

Had Arthur made a mistake? Was Gwaine just another commoner mad at his life and seeking revenge against those of noble statues? Was this just an opportunity for him? Or was it true, that he just wanted to protect Merlin. Had Sir Oswald truly become the kind of man that hurts a servant?

Leon had never had a relationship with Oswald, but Arthur was friendlier with the man than he was with most. The knight had never seemed like the type to think himself above others like that.

He stood outside of Gwaine’s cell, the bars keeping them apart. Gwaine was sitting with his back to the wall, looking at him. He looked resigned, as if he already knew what awaited him. But not in a way that conveyed guilt for his actions. He looked angry. His hands were balled into fists in front of him, chained with handcuffs, while his jaw was clenched.

“The King is ready to see you.” Leon opened the cell and stepped in, helping Gwaine to his feet.

The man didn’t acknowledge him, but he also didn’t resist when the guards came and started taking him to the throne room. Leon walked behind them.

They dropped Gwaine to his knees on the floor in front of the King. The room wasn’t crowded; it was too early in the morning for the court to be awake. It was just the King, prince Arthur, Gaius and Merlin, Sir Ethan and Oswald, and some guards.

“Sire, this man attacked me, with a sword.” Sir Oswald started. “Tried to kill me.”

The monotonous, clipped way of speaking made Leon do a double take; it was a stark contrast to the raised, demanding voice with which he communicated in his chambers. Of course, at that time he had just had a confrontation, and one tends to calm things down in the presence of the King, so Leon couldn't judge it, despite finding the situation disturbing.

The King stared at Gwaine in disbelief, probably trying to make sense of this information along with the one provided by Arthur earlier.

“Is this true?” The King asked Gwaine.

“I stepped in to protect Merlin.”

Leon noticed that Gwaine didn’t dare to look the King in the eyes and thought that the man might have a survival instinct after all, against all odds.

“I tried to talk to him. He was like a man possessed.” Sir Oswald interrupted, earning a deadly glare from Gwaine. “I’m sure Sir Ethan will back me up.”

“Indeed. I can vouch for his every word.”

Gwaine raged, losing control. He tried to stand up, trashing in the guards hold. “He’s a liar!”

The blatant disrespect angered the King, and he screamed, pointing at Gwaine m “I will have your tongue! How dare you speak to a knight in that way?”

 Gwaine lifted his chin, twisting his head to speak directly at Sir Oswald. He looked repulsed.

“Nobility is defined by what you do,” he spoke confidently, and looked back at the King, staring right at him. “and not by who you are.”

The King turned to look at Arthur, as if daring him to say something, to get involved. Arthur was speechless, opening and closing his mouth, not knowing how to protect Gwaine.

But Gwaine was not done. “And these men are anything but.”

He said it with certainty, as certain as saying the sky is blue and it's hot in the summer. He had no respect for Sir Ethan and Oswald, because he didn’t think they deserved it.

“They are arrogant thugs!”

He trashed again in his chains, destroying any chance he might have had at being taken seriously. Leon understood how the scene looked. A wild, screaming peasant attacking the noble knights, insulting the king and the nobility in his delusions.

“Gwaine.” Arthur warned but his voice was lost to Sir Oswald’s interruption. “You see, Sire, the way he behaves.” He said, completely dismissing the Prince.

Leon found that odd too. It was one thing, to interrupt a commoner, while rude it wasn’t inappropriate. But to dismiss the crown prince?

“I’ve heard enough.” The King said.

Arthur clenched his teeth.

“For a commoner to attack a knight is a violation of the Knights’ code.”

“I couldn’t agree with you more, Sire.” Oswald said, crossing his arms. “He must be made an example of.”

Arthur took a couple of steps forward, raising an arm as if to appease, “Sir Oswald, please.”

The knight wasn’t stopping though, and Leon knew he wouldn’t. No one demands an audience with the King of they’re not hoping for a grand verdict.

“Nothing less than his execution will give me satisfaction.”

“Father, I understand how this must look. It’s an embarrassing situation,” Arthur was changing tactics, then.

He couldn’t appease the knights, but he could try with the King. Addressing him as his father instead of his title was one way to go. “Sir Oswald is a dear friend and our guest here in Camelot.” He acknowledged, “But Gwaine is my guest here too. He might not be of noble birth, but I can vouch that he has a noble heart”

“How can you say that when you see the way he behaves?”

Arthur was still willing to defend and protect Gwaine, and Leon didn’t know if that spoke of Arthur’s compassion or naivety.

“Gwaine risked his life to save mine.” Arthur replied, “I beg you, please, if a knight’s word is his bond, then I give you my word.” Arthur's confident and steady voice exuded security and confidence, he knew exactly what he was doing, and the consequences that it could bring. “Gwaine is a good man.”

The King considered everything for a moment. He stared at Gwaine, assessing him.

Leon didn’t know what his final sentence would be.

“You are banished from Camelot.” The King declared. “If you ever return, you will pay for it with your life.”

The King turned, walking away with his back to them all.

...

Leon recognized Gwen’s voice easily but it took him a couple of minutes to realize that the person she was talking to was Gwaine. He stopped just before turning into the hallway they were in, so they didn’t notice him. They chatted with a certain familiarity that Leon found odd. He already knew that Gwen was acquainted with Gwaine, but he hadn’t thought they’d spent enough time together to justify such easy familiarity.

He didn’t want to interrupt them, but he couldn’t just turn around and walk away. It wasn’t eavesdropping if he could barely make out their words — the way they murmured, heads close together.

Everything about Gwaine had been quite confusing, from the moment Leon met him in Gaius’s chambers to now. Nothing seemed to follow a logical rhythm.

Arthur thought so highly of Gwaine to the point where he was willing to give his word as a knight that Gwaine was worthy and did not deserve to die.

Gwen, sweet and attentive, was paying attention to Gwaine and seemed to have some affection or appreciation for him.

Merlin also seemed to want to defend Gwaine, and Leon knew that this desire to look out for each other was mutual. Gwaine had responded, somewhat upset and annoyed, when Leon had mentioned Merlin, defending him even when Leon had no intention of attacking him. But Leon had also seen Gwaine’s disrespectful and arrogant ways. Sir Oswald and Ethan had also noticed this, despite having taken it to the extreme.

Before the King’s audience, Leon had had his doubts about the story of the fight between the knights and Gwaine. Arthur was also friendly with Sir Oswald, and frankly, the knight didn’t have the track record or image of attacking servants out of nowhere.

After the audience, Leon wasn’t sure anymore. Demanding an audience with King was already bold, demanding someone’s death might have been the right thing to do in some cases, but the way Oswald said that was going to be the only thing that would bring him joy was strange and concerning.

A knight should never let his judgment be clouded by revenge.

He caught Gwaine’s last words before the sound of footsteps shifted — one pair fading, another approaching. He squared up his shoulders and walked ahead. He didn’t crash into Gwaine, but by chance.

Gwaine stopped dead in his tracks, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t know I was getting personally escorted away.”

“What did you mean by that?” Leon asked, not raising to the bait. “Let’s hope he lives that long.”

Gwaine tilted his head to the side, a smirk growing. “Tell me, is it in the knights’ code to eavesdrop as well? Or is that a personal trick?”

“I’m not playing games.” Leon’s voice was low but steady.

“What do you want me to do? Talk so you can ignore it? I’m nothing but a commoner, or have you forgotten that already?”

“I’m asking because it sounded like a threat –

Gwaine huffed loudly, shaking his head. “Oh, perfect!” He gave a dry laugh “I’m already banished. I saved the prince and his servant, the last thing I need is to threaten him.”

Leon rolled his eyes, exasperated. “I never said you were threatening him. If you’d had listened to me and let me finish speaking, you would have realised.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that you, of all people, are going to believe me?” Gwaine challenged.

“It’s my job to protect Camelot and its rulers,” Leon explained, “That means I pay attention to all the threats that may arise and stop them before they happen.”

“And where was this heroism when the threat fell upon a servant? Or do you only put effort into lives that are truly worth it?” Gwaine’s words were full of irony, and his eyes were filled with barely contained fury.

“I protect all the citizens of Camelot, or so I try. You were the one who had a knight at the tip of your sword.”

“And we both know why.”

Gwaine was challenging him with every word. He hadn’t realized it, but they’d been getting closer as they talked, and Leon had to take a step back when he noticed another step towards him was going to mean no space between them.

“They’re planning to kill Arthur.” Gwaine said. “Their swords are sharpened, even though at first glance they may seem otherwise. Believe me, I would know.” He smiled showing his teeth, “I’ve felt their blades against my skin.”

He approached Leon, ignoring any sign or understanding of personal space. “Those swords were forged using magic.” Gwaine leaned in, his breath brushing Leon’s ear. “Now tell me, what kind of knight brings sorcery into a kingdom that burns it?”

Leon held his ground, though the truth in Gwaine’s voice made his pulse stutter. He didn’t let it show. The heat of Gwaine’s breath lingered longer than his words. Leon forced himself not to move — knights didn’t flinch, not even from ghosts, and certainly not from men like him.

“That’s a grave accusation.” Leon said.

Gwaine stepped back first, and the air between them felt sharper for it.

“It’s the truth.”

Leon ran a hand through his hair and then rested it on his jaw.

“I need proof, I can’t just go to the King with an accusation like this one.”

“Why?” Gwaine snarked, “Won’t he believe it coming from a royal knight such as yourself?”

“It’s not about that.” He argued. “But this is a lethal accusation. If I say it, and at best you’re wrong, and at worst you’re lying to me, then two men would have died unjustly.”

That made Gwaine pause, considering Leon. “So check his rooms, you’ll find the swords and see for yourself.”

“I can’t just go and check other knights’ rooms for no reason, especially when the information comes from a man who has just been banished from the kingdom.” He explained. “I’ll just... find a way to protect the prince. If what you’re saying is true, they’ll most likely strike during the melee. Perfect cover for them.”

“I know.” Gwaine nodded slowly, as if he were surprised. “I thought the same.”

That probably explained his surprise, Leon supposed. He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He wasn’t participating in the melee, so he had to accompany the guards in making sure that nothing got out of control with the crowd and the high tension of the battle. He was exhausted too. The conflict with Gwaine and Oswald and Ethan greatly disrupted his shift schedule the night before, having had to take charge of notifying the King and preparing everything for the audience. He had barely managed to sleep a couple of hours. Now he had to find a way to get into the melee without attracting suspicion.

“You’re not fighting the tournament.”

“What?” Leon asked, snapping out of his thoughts at Gwaine’s interruption.

“The melee. You haven’t been training like all the others. You’re not fighting, are you?”

Leon cleared his throat, uncomfortable at feel observed like that, “No, not this one.”

“It’ll be weird if you were to suddenly join now.” Gwaine said. “You could spook them into not acting, we’d have no proof then.”

“Maybe there’s nothing to prove.” Leon mumbled.

““If you believed that,” came the cheeky reply, “I doubt we’d still be having this conversation.”

Leon didn’t answer. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t give him away. Not to Gwaine, and not to himself.

...

Being a knight, vowing to protect and serve, meant that you knew and agreed with the risks that came with it. You trained, fought, and pushed your body past exhaustion. You knew you’d be hurt, that you might die. You’d face the wilderness, the cold, the heat.

You prepared for it.

What Leon had not prepared for was doing his duty by stealing a set of armour for a banished commoner, so that same commoner could save the prince from knights wielding enchanted swords.

Here he was, though.

“I will admit, I had my doubts,” Gwaine started, as Leon made entered the room with the armour in his arms. “ Congratulations on your first thievery!”

“I’m not stealing.” Leon defended, “I have access to the armoury and permission to take these.”

“Sure,” Gwaine agreed easily, “but I’m sure I’m no the one meant to wear them. Yet....” he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Here we are.”

“Just...” Leon moved his hand to gesture for him to move, “get changed. We don’t have much time before the melee starts.”

Gwaine did as told, the sound of metal filled the small, dusty room. They’d chosen an unused chamber in an empty wing of the castle — safer than the knights’ floor or the tents outside, where anyone might have seen that Gwaine hadn’t truly left Camelot.

“Are you done?” Leon asked.

“It’s not as easy as it looks,” Gwaine complained.

Leon turned. Gwaine was almost finished, only a few ties left and his helmet off. To speed things up and avoid attracting attention by being late to the tournament, Leon took it upon himself to help Gwaine with the final details of the armour. When he was done he stepped away, but noticed something on the floor that hadn’t been there before.

It was a small flower. He kneeled down to pick it up, and looked at it. It was simple, but pretty. He had no idea what it was doing in a room so devoid of everything.

“Oh, that’s mine.” Said Gwaine, noticing the flower in Leon’s hand. “Must’ve fallen off while I changed.”

“Why did you have a flower with you?” He questioned.

Gwaine took it from his hands, and winked. “I like pretty things.” He turned the flower over in his hand before placing it on the small table in the room. Leon tried not to get distracted and regain focus on the situation.

“Don’t forget the helmet. No one can see you.”

“I know, I’m not an idiot.” Gwaine slipped it on and picked up his sword from where it leaned against the wall. “Let’s go.”

Leon hoped he wouldn’t regret this.

The melee started. It was hard to tell who was who and how things were with the motion blur of all the knights fighting. The sound of metal clashing and the galloping of the knights was all that could be heard, and the dust they kicked up clouded the view. Knights started to fall off their horses and others were beaten and defeated. Leon shouted to the guards to move and start collecting the wounded with the gurney. Then, he saw a knight heading straight to Arthur, sword raised, and knew that Gwaine had been telling the truth.

Arthur was a good fighter, but he stood no chance with an unsharpened sword against two knights. Leon looked at the bodies lying on the ground, trying to see which one was Gwaine. It was already too late for Leon to join the battle; it would be embarrassing for the knights already in the arena to be interrupted. The crowd would understand this as a sign of weakness, and that was the last thing the heir to the throne should represent.

All his hopes for things to turn out well rested on Gwaine getting up and helping Arthur. He breathed out in relief when he saw a man staggering up, gathering strength to join the fight. He knew it was Gwaine.

Gwaine and Arthur fought together, and they did it well. They understood how to cover the other’s back without talking faster than most knights did. Then, Gwaine pulled off a move Leon had never seen before. The way in which he twisted and moved his sword, flawlessly and smooth, stealing his enemy’s own, was brilliant. Leon felt a thrill of energy go through his body, unexpected but not unpleasant.

Gwaine ran his sword through his opponent, and the knight fell to the ground. The crowd exploded with noise and cheering, a mixture of some encouraging for more and others gasping in disbelief.

Arthur fell, exposed for his opponent to strike, but Gwaine was faster and knelt with one sword stopping the one about to hit Arthur and with the other he ran through the man.

That only left Arthur and Gwaine on the arena, and the crowd was expecting them to finish the fight to declare the winner. Leon saw the King rising from his seat, needing to watch the scene closer.

Arthur took off his helmet, sword pointed to the ground. He was an honourable man, and he knew he would’ve died earlier in the fight if it hadn’t been for the armoured man in front of him. He was willing to give him the victory he deserved.

Leon was paying attention, wanting to know what Gwaine would choose. What kind of man, what kind of warrior, was he? There was no doubt Gwaine was a warrior, after seeing the way he fought. Leon could see now how he had managed to save Arthur the first time. He’d never seen someone fight like Gwaine.

Leon held his breath.

Gwaine stuck the sword in the ground.

Leon exhaled, relieved.

It was over, the prince was safe and Gwaine hadn’t lied.

But then he took off his helmet — and Leon knew he had just condemned himself. Gwaine looked around, his gaze finding Leon’s. There was an apology in his eyes.

Before he could react, the King was pointing and screaming for the guards to seize Gwaine, which they did immediately. The fighter didn’t resist, knowing it was fruitless.

...

Leon was waiting at the edge of the citadel, using the excuse of patrolling the area, waiting for Gwaine to appear on his way out.

“Am I being escorted this time?” Gwaine called as he approached, bag slung over his shoulder. “I promise, I’m leaving for real.”

Leon turned. Despite himself, he let out a small laugh.

“Afraid not,.” He said, “I am working, you know? I can’t leave my post.”

“Of course.” Gwaine sighed dramatically.

“You were right.” Leon said, more seriously this time. “They weren’t noblemen at all. It was bandits using magic to pass themselves off as knights. You saved the prince, more that once.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Gwaine replied with a shrug.

“I apologise for doubting you,” Leon said quietly. “You fought bravely, and I thank you.”

Gwaine regarded him for a long moment. “I appreciate it.”

The sound of approaching boots became clearer, and Leon turned his head to see two knights approaching.

“I think that’s my cue.” Gwaine joked. “I only had until sunset.”

“Have a good trip.”

It was the only thing Leon could say. He watched Gwaine walk away.