The first time he had laid eyes on Merlynn, all of sixteen summers old, himself being twenty-two, he had not been particularly impressed; with her tiny frame, ivory skin, high cheekbones, long tresses of ebony hair, and wearing a worn dress, she had looked like a porcelain doll, too delicate to keep up with the bustle of large-city life.
The first time Leon had seen Merlynn, she had been struggling the move through the crowds, a basket on her arm.
(Later, he would boast to the other knights that he had been the first one to meet her)
"Do you need any assistance, Miss?"
She had jumped and turned to meet his gaze, and Leon had been stunned into silence.
Blue. Her eyes were brightest shade of blue he had ever seen before, surrounded by long dark lashes that brushed against those high cheekbones whenever she blinked.
(He would grow to love those eyes - those blue, blue eyes that he would do anything to see sparkle with happiness)
"Um... That would be great, thanks you...?"
"Sir Leon, Knight of Camelot."
A look of surprise flitted across her face, and a small embarrassed blush colored her cheeks.
"Merlynn,"
After that meeting, Leon found himself steadily seeking Merlynn out; he would bump into her in town and apologize by carrying her baskets to where ever she needed to go, escorting her back to her chambers after a hard day of work, he would even find ways to help her in her duties without the knowledge of the Prince.
He learned that Merlynn was not, under any circumstance, the delicate porcelain doll he had originally thought. She was stubborn, sarcastic, and definitely the most unfeminine female he had ever met.
(There weren't many people who were able to call the Crown Prince a dollop-head and get away with it, but it was part of her charm)
But at the same she beautiful, intelligent, and always so passionate in her beliefs.
Leon was obsessed.
The first time Merlynn had nearly died in front of him, he had never felt such fear as he had that day.
"Drop yer swords or I'll slit 'er pretty lil' neck!
Leon had frozen, hazel eyes focused solely on the disgusting bandit who had dared lay his filthy hands on such a pure person as the maidservant with the blue-blue eyes.
(It made his blood boil every time he looked back on it)
The bandit had his blade pressed against her pale neck, and when he didn't like that no one had dropped their swords, a small trickle of shockingly red blood trailed down her delicate throat.
Those blue-blue eyes were wide and frightened, pleading with them to save her, her pale face even paler than normal, and her was mouth pressed into a grim line, and Leon knew at once that that was not an expression he wanted to see on Merlynn's face ever again.
Swords clattered to the ground and the bandit relaxed his hold on the maidservant.
The man leered, and, much to Leon's disgust, fondled the girl. "Now yer gunna leave yer fancy swords on tha ground an' me an' tha lil' lady'll take our leave."
It happened so quickly that no one had seen it coming.
Merlynn had twisted, slamming her heel on the disgusting man's foot hard enough that the knights could hear the crack! of the man's foot breaking.
This gave Leon the opening he needed. Lunging forward as Merlynn dove to the side, the blond knight tackled the bandit to the ground.
Now, Leon prided himself on the fact that he was a very calm individual, but the filthy bandit's actions had crossed the line.
He slammed the man's filthy, dirty, disgusting face into the hard earth over and over again, and when he pulled away the bandit was left groaning on the ground, face bloody and smashed to the point he was almost unrecognizable.
Leon was pleased.
The other knights, plus Prince Arthur, were too stunned to move as their brother-in-arms moved towards Merlynn, whose blue eyes stared at him in wonder.
"Are you alright, Merlynn?" He asked gently, crouching in front of her.
"I'm alright. Thank you, Leon."
(Leon decided he liked it when she said his name)
With a nod, his eyes moved towards her neck, where he could see the smear of crimson blood, bright and noticeable against her porcelain skin.
"May I take a look at your injury?"
When she nodded, he grasped her chin gently and tilted it upwards. It was a straight line that marred her skin, only an inch or so long across her throat, not deep enough to be life threatening, but still deep enough to cause some level of concern, it would need to be wrapped to keep out any infections.
Without a second thought, Leon tore a strip off his crimson cloak and fastened it around the wound.
Merlynn grinned, "Well, Doctor? Will I live?" She asked cheekily.
Leon couldn't fight the smirk that grew on his face, "You will indeed, Miss Merlynn."
She laughed and Leon found himself basking in the sound.
(It was that day that he knew that he would do anything to hear that laugh)
When Leon met Lancelot, the blond felt jealousy for the first time.
The dark haired man had saved Merlynn's life, he should be grateful, but he wasn't.
Watching as Merlynn laughed with the younger man, he could feel the green beast rear it's ugly head.
(It was very petty of him, now that he looked back on it)
"- Leon?"
The knight dragged his attention away from Merlynn towards Sir Hector, an old knight with greying red hair and brown eyes, who had, once upon a time, been his trainer.
"Pardon?"
Hector smirked, brown eyes amused. "I was asking about that lass you keep staring at. A new belle, perhaps?"
Leon blushed and stuttered, making the older man laugh jovially and clap the blond on the shoulder.
"Leon!"
It was Merlynn, she was hurrying over, dragging Lancelot behind her, a wide grin on her face.
Leon prayed to whatever god was listening that his face wasn't still red and turned to the young woman, a small, polite smile on his face, "Hello, Merlynn."
His eyes twitched towards Lancelot, standing awkwardly beside Merlynn.
"Leon, I don't know if you've been introduced, but this is Lancelot, Lancelot meet Leon. He's Arthur's second in command."
Lancelot smiled politely, "It's nice to meet you, Sir Leon."
"Likewise."
Merlynn grinned, "Our lovely Gwen has caught Lancelot's eye. Any advice you can offer him?" She smirked as if sharing an inside joke as Lancelot blushed.
Leon felt a rush of thankfulness as he glanced at the younger man.
"Well..."
After that day that he started leaving gifts for Merlynn. Nothing big or fancy, just small flowers, herbs, sometimes little sweets that he had learned that she liked, on her birthday he had left her a small bronze bracelet.
The gift giving would continue on for quite sometime.
The first time he kissed her, she and the Prince were leaving on a quest to retrieve the cup that the Druids had used to save his life.
The King, in all his (paranoid) glory, had decided that the Druids would use such a life-giving cup against them and had sent Prince Arthur into enemy territory to fetch it.
And Arthur had chosen to take Merlynn, who had a knowledge of Cenrid's kingdom, having grown up in one of the bordering villages, with him.
Arriving at the physician quarters, Leon knocked calmly on the door.
"Sir Leon -" Giaus had said the moment he opened the door, he raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"
"Is Merlynn here?"
"She's packing, should I fetch her for you?"
"If it would be no trouble."
Giaus left and soon Merlynn took his place.
Leon eyed her frame, hidden under trousers, a baggy red tunic, and a simple brown jacket, there was a worn blue neckerchief tied around her neck.
"Leon!" She greeted, her pink lips pulled into a large grin as she swept her wavy black hair into a low ponytail.
If it weren't for her very feminine face, she could be mistaken as a young boy.
"Merlynn," He smiled slightly, and she stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her.
"Sorry, Leon. I won't be able to talk for very long, Arthur wants to leave as soon as possible."
(He doesn't really know what made him do it, maybe because there was this feeling in his gut that something bad was going to happen, maybe because there has a large chance she wouldn't come back)
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a soft kiss, cutting Merlynn off mid-word as she squeaked.
After a moment, he pulled away and studied her face.
There was a flush of pink across her high cheekbones, blue eyes were wide with shock, and her soft pink lips her parted in surprise.
"Be careful, Merlynn." He breathed.
Those blue eyes were trained on his face, "Leon- I- I don't know what to say- I mean-"
Even as his heart sunk, Leon managed a smile. "It's alright, take your time to think about it. I'll wait for your answer for as long as I have to."
Merlynn blew out a breath, and small smile grew on her lips. "Thank you, Leon. I'll think about it... And I'll be careful as possible on the quest."
Leon dipped his head, "That's all I ask."
Then Morgana betrayed them and took over Camelot. And as Leon sat in his cell, he was, for the first time, immensely glad that Merlynn wasn't in Camelot, that she was on a dangerous quest.
As he stared out the small barred window, Leon hoped to whatever gods were listening that Merlynn was safe.
The first time she kissed him was when they were preparing to take back Camelot, and Merlynn and Lancelot had decided that they would take out the warning bells.
As they planned out their attack, Merlynn had approached him, looking a little twitchy, but determined nonetheless.
Excusing himself from the planning, he moved towards the young woman.
"Merlynn -"
He cut off as her hand snatched the collar of his chain mail. She yanked him down to her level and smashed their lips together in a fierce kiss.
After a moment, she pulled away and Leon was sure he looked pretty dazed.
Gwaine wolf-whistled.
"I thought I should answer your question before we start." Merlynn told him. "Be careful. Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori*, but I would rather you live to fight another day."
"What...?"
"'It is sweet and proper to die for your country', but as I said, I would much rather you live to fight another day."
"Hear! Hear!"
"Shut up, Gwaine. They're having a moment!"
"Ow! Gwen!"
Leon couldn't help himself, he laughed, Merlynn's delighted giggles joined his own chuckles as Gwaine pouted.
They started to meet up whenever possible after they managed to save Camelot, going for meals together, walking together, rides together, they even had picnics in between their duties as Knight and Maidservent respectively.
Leon grew to love her even more.
When Leon saw Merlynn cry for the first time, it was after Lancelot's funeral, after everyone had left the clearing where the pyre burned Merlynn continued to stand alone, shoulders slumped as she stared at the leaping flames.
Leon approached quietly, not wanting to interrupt her grieving, and stood beside her, lacing his fingers through hers.
A way of silent support.
As he held her small, calloused hands, he couldn't help but remember the horror he had felt when he had seen her small, unmoving, frost-covered body, her face pale and those blue eyes he loved so much glazed over. He remembered the elation he felt when she had been revealed to be alive, when Lancelot had stepped aside and Merlynn had smiled at them, that warm smile that could brighten his day.
"He's really gone..." She said hoarsely, "He sacrificed himself right in front of me and I couldn't do anything to stop him. That stupid, brave, loyal fool. I-" She cut herself off with a sob and Leon saw something he had never seen before.
Merlynn was crying.
The tears ran silently down her pale cheeks as her shoulders shook and she made no move to wipe them away.
Leon didn't blame her.
He remembered when he, Perceval, and Elyan had been fighting off the wyverns, how a terrible scream had scared the monsters away and all he could think was Merlynn! Merlynn! Merlynn! That was Merlynn! And when they had found the others, Arthur and Gwaine were sprawled, unconscious, on the ground and how Merlynn was staring despondently ahead, mouth moving but only saying one word over, and over again; Lancelot.
Then it had hit him; Lancelot was gone.
He had pulled the shaking young woman into a tight hug, but she didn't cry, only stared ahead and continued to mutter that one name.
She had been in shock, and the dam had finally burst.
Leon wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, allowing her wail into his chest.
"He was like a brother to me! Why would he do that?! He was the big brother I always wanted, the one I could always count on! And now he's gone!"
He rubbed her back as her tears stained his tunic, and he decided that he never wanted to see her cry again.
(But there were somethings you couldn't stop - The King died and Merlynn cried for Arthur - Elyan was killed by Morgana and Merlynn cried for Gwen - Morgana was defeated and Merlynn cried for the girl she had once been)
When he first saw Merlynn use magic, he felt like something had finally clicked into place. Like some mystery had finally been solved.
Merlynn had magic.
Everything he had been taught as a child told him that magic was evil.
But this was Merlynn, Merlynn couldn't be evil.
She just couldn't.
"You're a sorcerer." He muttered, staring at the fallen bandits around them.
They had been abused, one had been about to kill him, Merlynn had used magic to push them back.
Merlynn had saved him.
"A witch, actually." She replied quietly,
"You have magic."
"I have since I was born." Merlynn told him, staring at her feet. "When I was born, my eyes were gold. I was using magic before I could talk."
He took a step forward and she flinched away.
From him.
"Please don't hate me."
She was afraid of him.
His mind was telling him that magic was evil.
But his heart was telling him that this was Merlynn. That he loved her and there was no possible way that Merlynn was evil.
He made his choice.
"I don't hate you, Merlynn. I love you, magic and all."
Because this was Merlynn.
When Leon finally proposed, the first thing Merlynn had said was "Yes!".
Watching her stand beside him, in a soft white-blue dress, hair done up in curls, face flushed with joy and blue eyes sparkling, Leon was truly thankful for it.
"Do you, Sir Leon, Knight of the Round Table, Son of the late Lord Paris and Lady Helena Degrance, take this woman, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, as your wife?" Arthur looked at his knight as he spoke,
He didn't hesitate, "I do."
"And do you, Merlynn, daughter of Hunith of Ealdor and the late Lord Balinor Ambrosias, take this man, for better or for worse, in sickness and health, as your husband."
Merlynn smiled brightly, "I do."
"Then, with the power invested in me, I prononce you Man and Wife."
He was truly glad that she loved him.
"You may kiss the bride."
And he did just that.
And now, as he watch his lovely wife rub her swollen stomach, he was glad.
Glad for all those firsts they had, good or bad, because they led them to becoming the people they were today.
Happily married and expecting their first child.
Leon could picture him or her now, with his blond curls and her blue-blue eyes.
"If been thinking," Merlynn spoke, "about names, that is. You said, for a girl you wanted to name her Iris. I agree."
"And if it's a boy?"
"Balin."
Leon smiled, "It's a wonderful name."
And not for the first time, he was glad for the firsts.
Because they led him to her, the young woman with the beautiful pale face, the high cheekbones, wavy black hair, and the lovely blue-blue eyes.
~~00 END 00~~
* Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori = a line from the Roman lyrical poet Horace's Odes (III.2.13). The line can be roughly translated into English as: "It is sweet and fitting to die for your country."