Knight in Charred Armor
Part 2
Three weeks later, while carrying Arthur his breakfast, Merlin saw a ghost.
At least he thought, at first glance, that it was a ghost—but then he looked again (turning his head so fast that his neck cracked), and he began to think that it was actually a real, living person.
A real, live Sir Leon.
But, thought Merlin, grinding to a halt in the hall, eyes nearly popping from his head, that isn't possible. Leon's dead.
Merlin had seen the man fall off his horse before the dragon! He'd seen him just lie there as fire was breathed over him! Who could survive that?
There was simply no way that Leon lived. And yet, regardless of Merlin's mental protests, Leon was inexplicably alive, not particularly caring if he had no business being so.
Of course, Merlin could've asked for the explanation from the knight, who was at that moment chatting to a guard at the end of the main hall. But Merlin and Sir Leon weren't exactly on a first-name basis (okay, technically, since neither even knew the other's last name, they were, but that was beside the point). Besides, it was generally considered rude to barge up to a man and demand a reason for his not being six feet under.
So instead Merlin went to Prince Arthur, for the manservant had no qualms about being rude to the Crown Prince.
\-_-BREAK-_-/
"Ah, Merlin. You're on time."
Merlin blinked absentmindedly at Arthur, placing the food down at the foot of the bed. "I'm always on time."
"When the man you work for," drawled the prince in all his prattishness, straightening his shirt, "gets to a point where he gets ready by himself rather than wait for you… Well, it's not a sign that you are the epitome of punctuality."
Still not really paying attention, Merlin responded without his usual warm sarcasm: "Oh, I'm sorry; I'd hate for you to have to learn to take care of yourself. Imagine. The horror."
At which point, Arthur gave up with the intellectual approach and grabbed the nearest object (a pillow, as it so happened), throwing it with pinpoint accuracy at his manservant's face.
Merlin didn't even mutter "prat" under his breath as the pillow hit him, and Arthur noticed this with some concern. (After all, if Merlin was sick, Arthur didn't want to catch it.)
"Merlin?"
Merlin looked up as though he'd just been awoken by a reverie. "Sire?"
"What's wrong?" asked the health-conscious royal.
Merlin looked embarrassed. "I… uh, on the way here, I saw Sir Leon." He looked up, wincing, and waited for Arthur to laugh, to go pale, or to yell at him for making such a joke.
Instead, Arthur nodded slowly, face blank, like a man who missed the punch line. "Ye-esss… and…?"
"Isn't that enough?" cried the distraught Merlin in disbelief, throwing up his arms into the air.
Arthur stared at Merlin like he was crazy for a moment (and Merlin mirrored the look), but then the realization hit him.
Arthur began to laugh, his head thrown back.
And Merlin began to edge nervously out of the room.
Still laughing, Arthur held up his hand to stop the servant's retreat. "I forgot, Merlin, you didn't hear." Mind at rest once more, Arthur went to his breakfast and glanced over it. "Sir Leon survived the fight with the dragon… He only showed up yesterday; apparently he had only slight injuries and made his way back to Camelot, stopping for medical attention at a few houses. It took him three weeks."
A guilt-stricken look took over the manservant's face, who stopped trying to escape and instead began to stare at his master with horror. "Wait, you mean he was alive, perhaps awake… And we just left him there?"
Arthur didn't look at all upset, but rather thoughtful as he chewed on some cheese. "Yes, we'll have to be more careful next time that happens…"
"We left him with all those dead men? And he was alive?" Merlin was aghast.
"But he's okay now," Arthur assured him, looking confused. "It was an honest mistake."
Merlin gawked at him. "You've got to be kidding me!"
Arthur wasn't kidding, of course. He looked back at Merlin with some confusion, not really seeing the problem.
Right then and there, Merlin nearly gave up on his destiny and went to die a hermit.
\-_-BREAK-_-/
Leon nodded briefly to the guard, then turned and walked away, his blood-red cloak billowing out from around his shoulders.
He knew he'd shocked the man with his abrupt exit, but it couldn't be helped. Leon had seen movement out of the corner of his eyes in the conversation, blonde waves and a flashing sword.
It was Her. Who else?
He had planned on waiting, of course, to finish the talk, but then he felt a now-familiar sensation come over him. Tremors ran through his hands, and his skin tingled. A small, uncontrollable smile had begun to sneak onto his face, and he suddenly realized, like a man half mad with thirst, that he couldn't wait another second.
So he left, went to seek her out.
And he hoped no one saw him, because he couldn't help smiling to himself, a lopsided, secretive little grin. Needless to say, it probably looked a little suspicious.
A/N: I didn't care for this chapter… I know it moved too fast, but I HAD to get it out tonight! So I'm sorry. Please review anyway, and I promise to those of you who haven't read my other stuff, I'm not usually this clumsy of a writer… And if you have read my other stuff, go vote on the poll on my profile. Please and thanks.
I know, also, that they didn't say "6 feet under" then. But they didn't say "pushing up daises", though Merlin did in 3.12. So I am justified! Also, someone asked about (okay, requested) "naughtly bits". Ahem, about that. Well, not too naughty (ew, there's a reason I don't write that!) but you'll probably get some "romance" coming... which is SO wrong...
Again, I say, fellow fanfictioners, by the powers vested in me as Kitty O, I command you to review~~ Or suffer the consequences.