Chapter Text
Leon was Camelot’s first knight, a member of the Round Table, and Arthur’s most trusted.
He had friends among the knights, especially among the others of the Round Table.
He was living the dream of every knight who had ever come before him.
trusted and loved by his king,
Respected,
Looked up to.
He should’ve been happy.
He was supposed to be.
He had to be the perfect model, someone the squires and young knights looked up to and achieved to be like.
That is what everyone saw. The perfect loyal knight who’d die for his king.
He thought he would. He was hoping he would.
He had.
But his eyes kept opening when they should’ve stayed closed.
Leon figured out about his immortality the hard way.
He was on patrol with five other knights; it was supposed to be a simple border patrol to ensure no other kingdoms nor bandits had been crossing over into Camelot Land.
They weren’t prepared for the attack; they were outnumbered; it was a slaughter.
It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened; a few years ago, Leon and two other knights were attacked on a patrol by Cendred’s men. He was the only one that survived thanks to the Druid’s finding him and bringing him back to health.
Now, even years later, Arthur had increased the number of knights on patrols to prevent stuff like that from happening. But even six fine knights of Camelot were no match for over a dozen magic users.
There was also when the dragon attacked Camelot—hundreds of people burned in the flames, nobles and peasants alike– he himself was not safe from the flames, his face along with his chest and torso still bore the scars from the attack. The damned beast had burned nearly the whole left side of his body. He heard the gasps and whispers of others when they saw him, he’d even caused a few servants to faint. He lost most of the senses on his left side, it was so bad Uther gave him the choice to retire early with honor.
He didn't take it.
Leon did not hate magic; he was born before the ban was placed; he was only 4 summers then, but he remembered a Druid maid that served his mother. When he cried, she would summon things like butterflies or lights with magic to calm him down.
She was one of the first to be executed when the great purge started.
His mother had loved magic before the purge; she taught him that it was a gift, not just a weapon. But then Uther’s laws prohibit anyone to speak of magic, and she never once spoke of it, nor her former maid.
After the druids had brought him back to health, he felt he owed them a debt, not only for saving his life but also for all the magic users he was made to kill.
Maybe this was his punishment for being so loyal to the Pendragons. A punishment to live for eternity with the blood of hundreds of innocents.
For that reason he could not blame the sorcerers for wanting him and his brothers-in-arms dead; they had every reason to hate them. And despite everything he did not blame the dragon for wanting to rain fire down on Camelot, it too had a reason to hate them.
Dying had hurt for the first time, and as he closed his remaining eye, he thought they would never open again, but he was wrong, so very wrong.
When he opened his eye again, he thought he was still dead, just in some form of afterlife, maybe even a ghost.
It didn’t take him long to figure out that wasn’t the case.
The wound wasn’t even there anymore, but he was still covered in his own blood. He was pale, like he should’ve been dead.
Should’ve been dead.
Dead like the knights he had taken on the patrol with him, they were younger knights, only knighted a few moons ago. They were so happy to go on a patrol with the first knight of Camelot. They didn’t deserve this.
He had laid there for what seemed like hours, in shock of it all.
Maybe if he closed his eyes long enough, they would stay closed.
That didn’t work.
The journey back to Camelot was a blur, he didn’t even remember getting up, his feet simply dragged him against his will. His fate to always serve a crown, no matter what.
He didn’t even fully process what had happened until he had finally got back to Camelot,
he had just died.
He had come back from the dead.
Why?
His whole body was shaking, but he couldn’t tell if it was from pain or shock,
Probably both.
His fellow Knights surrounded him as he entered the citadel, blaring questions down at him.
“What happened?”
“Where’s the rest of the patrol?”
“Where’s your horse?”
“You must see the king!”
“Are you hurt, Leon?”
That question was strange, different from the others.
Leon looked towards where the voice had come from, he saw wide blue eyes staring back at him.
Merlin.
Merlin was always there.
Merlin always knew when something was wrong.
Leon didn’t even realize Merlin was dragging him away from the other knights and towards the castle,
“I’m taking you to Gaius, you’re obviously hurt.”
Wait, there was no wound, it was gone, he couldn’t let them see it had healed, it would look too close to-
Magic.
This did have something to do with Magic, it had to.
Leon jerked away from Merlin’s grip, making them both stumble. “I’m fine, I don't need Gaius,” Merlin only narrowed his eyes at him as he raised an eyebrow, Leon almost shivered at how much he looked like Gaius while doing that.
“You’re covered in blood, and you’re obviously in shock, so even if it somehow isn’t your blood, which yes I know you were about to say that, you still need to be checked over by a physician.” Merlin went to grab Leon’s shoulder again but Leon backed away.
How was he supposed to explain these things to Gaius? The physician was old but he would see right through Leon’s lies.
“I’m fine, Merlin.” Leon hated lying, especially to Merlin, who wouldn’t? He was a good friend to anyone, even animals.
Leon had seen wild animals walk right up to Merlin and nuzzle him like puppies craving attention, hell, Leon would believe Merlin was capable of taming a dragon, like the one who had rained fire down on Camelot.
“No, you're not” curse Merlin and his stubbornness.
“Please, just- I don't need to see Gaius, I'm fine. I need to report to the King.” Leon turned and walked away from Merlin before he could drag him to the physician's chambers.
Merlin stared after Leon, his eyes narrowed. He knew Leon was not the best at talking to people but that was weird, even for him. The man looked like a walking corpse, he was covered in muddy blood like he had been lying in the dirt while bleeding out, his blonde curly hair dirty and tangled, not to mention his eye bags made him look like a skeleton from how dark and sunken in they were.
He’d have to keep an eye on Leon.