Leon had made it this far without collapsing, and he would rather face the great dragon again than admit defeat now, in the heart of Camelot. He gritted his teeth and pressed onward. He enjoyed a lot less camouflage than before while riding alongside the Queen. Streets lined with hateful eyes revealed him for what he truly was. The Usurper's Knight. He repressed a shudder. This ridicule… those eyes… he hadn't let it break through his wall before. He had been stronger. Before.
Above them, a giant black bird swooped lower than usual. Leon caught its beady black eyes watching him, and his breathing hitched involuntarily. You're stronger than this.
He heard Morgana let out an annoyed huff, looking in her direction curiously.
"He's getting sloppy," she muttered.
They made it to the foot of the castle safely. Before a servant could take Ja Lor's reins from him, Leon stroked her muzzle affectionately and whispered, "Thank you for your help." Her golden coat sparkled in the sun's retreating light as she was led away. He watched Morgana curiously as she waved off the servant who offered to take her horse. She eyed the North restlessly.
"You should at least sleep before heading out again," Leon suggested quietly. He knew it wasn't his place to initiate conversation, but couldn't stop himself. She pinned him with a searching glare.
"How'd you—?" She sighed. "Nevermind. It doesn't matter. Go visit the old fool, he's waiting up for you. I won't be back for several days."
Leon held his tongue. He'd find out sooner or later what was taking up so much of Morgana's attention if he remained patient and diligent. Rarely anything had slipped past him, in all his time under Uther, Arthur, and now Morgana. Secrets always trickle down to a knight who listens and keeps his mouth shut. He dipped his head in acknowledgment, leaving Morgana at the bottom of the steps. He heard hooves against the street only moments later.
Admittedly, he'd only made it this far because Ja Lor had been doing most of the heavy lifting. The rough riding had taken its toll on him, it seemed. But again, he forced his body onward. Always onward, there was no alternative.
Leon knocked on the door to the physician's chambers, summoning his resolve with a fortifying inhale.
"Who's there?" A woman's voice demanded, trembling and weak. Leon's heart skipped a beat, pure terror freezing him in place. His thoughts raced ahead of him, too dizzy and quick to catch hold of—except for one, louder and more insistent than all the others. I can't be here!
"Don't worry, Isobel. It's probably just a patient of mine, long overdue for his visit."
Approaching footsteps. But he couldn't get his limbs to respond. The door opened. Gaius stared at him knowingly.
"You look like one of Morgana's undead soldiers," Gaius told him. "Get in here, you daft man."
Leon's face twisted in torment. "I…" he trailed off. Gaius put a hand on his shoulder, guiding him in before he had the opportunity to turn and flee.
A pair of startled eyes met Leon's. Isobel lay awake in bed, barely able to lift her head high enough to see him.
"It's—It's you."
Leon nodded solemnly. It felt like a weight was pressing down on his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Isobel. Your condition is due to my folly. I know it can't mean much to you, after all you've lost, but I've vowed never to let something like this happen again."
"But tha' injury on your face— It was you. You saved me!" She gritted her teeth and snarled in something approaching outrage. Her skin was flushed a blotchy red, making her freckles stand out. "What are you going on about? You say you're 'sorry!'" She scoffed. "Did you 'it your 'ead?"
It took Leon a moment to realize her anger was not directed at him, and afterward, even to try to guess at what he had said that had set the exhausted-looking woman into a spirited tirade.
"It was my duty to protect you both. I failed!" Leon growled, unconsciously widening his stance into something defensible.
"I would 'ave died!" Isobel's breaths were coming quickly, too quickly. Her fists balled at her sides, shaking and weak. Leon swallowed his words with a hiss, regretting raising his voice, regretting speaking at all. Instead of saying anything else that might set her off again, he allowed the silence to hang, palpable, between them. He felt lightheaded. Slowly, Isobel seemed to come down. She didn't speak, not until the very last lick of fire had been extinguished. It left her deflated, drained.
"You didn't fail." Isobel closed her eyes. "I remember—" She winced, pressing her lips together to stop them trembling. "Godfrey tried to protect me. It didn't—it didn't work. Magic only egged those animals on. After tha', I couldn't 'ear anythin' over the sound of my own screamin'. I never knew such an awful sound could come out of me… I thought I was goin' to die. No, I—I knew I was goin' to die." She opened her eyes, but she was still inside the memory. "Then someone found me, wrapped me in their cloak, and took me away from there." She glared. "You didn't fail."
Leon swallowed thickly. "Alright."
Satisfied with Leon's quiet agreement, Isobel let her head fall back to the pillow. She smiled tiredly. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you, lad. I've been told I come on strong—and I don't even know your damn name!"
"Not at all. You were only speaking your mind," he said. "When we met, you were still semi-conscious. We spoke a little, I— I don't know if you remember. You told me your name, and I told you mine." He winced. "It's Leon, by the way."
"Leon," she repeated softly. "I won't forget."
Uncomfortable, Leon broke eye contact. "I'm just relieved you're finally awake. Lady Morgana wanted to be here herself the second you did, but I'm afraid she's away on business." Isobel's eyes widened almost comically.
"The bloody Queen wants to see me?" Isobel chuckled a bit madly. "Why?"
"I don't know exactly," replied Leon, furrowing his brow.
"Enough," said Gaius, an impatient edge to his voice. "You'll both have to wait for her return. Until then, for the love of God, Sir Leon, sit down." He offered a familiar chair. Leon took it with a wince as Isobel let out an unladylike chortle.
"I apologize, Gaius. I've all but ruined your hard work."
"Just don't do it again," Gaius replied softly. "And we're even."
Leon nodded solemnly. "I'll try my best"
It was quiet as Gaius tended after the wound, but it was comfortably so. Soon, Isobel's breathing deepened, and she fell asleep. The steady push and pull of her snores seemed to have a hypnotic effect. Night had swiftly fallen and Gaius was working by dim candlelight. It wasn't long before Leon, traitorously, felt his eyes start to grow heavy. Seemed his body was determined to find the most inconvenient places to fall asleep. After a while, Gaius' voice managed to pull him out of his trance somewhat.
"Feeling sleepy, Sir Leon?" He sounded faintly amused. Leon blinked, shaking his head slightly to clear the fog.
"Are we done here?"
"Yes. You may sleep now."
"Oh, good," Leon said through a yawn. He stood up a bit shakily.
"Careful, Sir Leon." He felt Gaius gently stabilize him with a hand on his shoulder.
"I can walk," he protested half-heartedly. Gaius chuckled.
Leon barely registered what happened next, but he thought Gaius led him up a set of creaky stairs and opened a door to a room that was not his. He collapsed in the threadbare bed, too bleary to care.
Morgana traveled through two nights and two days. On the third night, she tied up her horse and followed the hidden markings across the landscape on foot until they led her to a secluded clearing within the underbrush. The trees blocked out the stars, leaving her nestled in darkness. Dealings with the sort of specialists she sought out were best kept to the shadows. She waited, allowing her watchers to reveal themselves when satisfied with their safety measures. It took ten long minutes before she was no longer alone among the trees.
A small, lithe figure materialized across from her. He was a dark and weathered man with a mane of wild, graying hair and a feral look in his eyes. The grim lines carved into his face betrayed a long history of paranoia and suspicion. His narrowed eyes made no exception for Morgana.
"Kane," Morgana greeted cautiously.
"Morgana," he returned, never releasing eye contact for even a moment. His voice was a gravelly rasp, just loud enough to be heard. "I am surprised."
"My actions bewilder you?" she asked, suppressing a small smirk.
"This job is… unusual. For those of my ilk."
"But it is within your ability, is it not?"
"Unquestionably." He replied with such immediate ease Morgana would never think to doubt it for a second. He cocked his head slightly, studying her expression, her bearing, everything about her from the minutest twitch of a facial muscle to the slightest tightening of a fist. Morgana smiled openly at him. Nothing to hide between two old friends, the smile reassured.
"You are free to back out if you're not up to the task, Kane," she added lightly. "So what is it? Are you in or out?"
"I would not waste all of our time with games of indecision," came his emotionless rasp. "Morgana, I stand before you. I think that is answer enough."
"Good," Morgana purred. "We are at an understanding." She raised an expectant eyebrow. "I assume you brought your people along?"
"Don't lurk, you two," Kane scolded the air. A large shadow slipped from the trees above in the next instant, dropping soundlessly to the ground on light feet. A giant, black raven followed after them, perching on their shoulder. It looked right at home there. The slender figure straightened up with apparent ease, towering over her. Their entire form was shrouded in a long, flowing cloak. Not unlike Emrys's own adornment, this was a druid's cloak. It was of a green so deep as to appear nearly black with intricate patterns and mesmerizing arcane symbols stitched into the fabric. The shadow of the hood clung unnaturally thickly to its wearer, too dense to glimpse even the hint of a form through. Morgana felt a vague sense of unease settle over her, shrugging it off forcefully. They sized each other up silently. After a few moments, the cloaked figure lowered their head in an informal bow, breaking the stand-off.
"Sybil. It is a pleasure," they said curtly. Sybil's voice was deep and smooth, and they had an odd, unplaceable accent. "I have heard of you. You are a welcome ally." It was unusual to hear admiration from the mouth of a druid, given their people's devotion to their deity—the deity currently locked tightly away in Camelot's dungeons. She decided to keep an eye on this one.
"And your recalcitrant friend?" Morgana asked, indicating the raven with a bored tilt of her head. Kane smirked.
"You had me figured out from the beginning."
"I've heard of this agent of yours. I thought you might try something slippery."
"You know me too well," he said, bearing his teeth in a manner too off-putting to be called a grin. Simmering just below the surface, Morgana sensed his frustration with his scheme being so easily sniffed out
"It's in the past. Besides, from what I've heard, I think he will prove quite useful to me."
The raven glared at Morgana from its perch on Sybil's shoulder. It had an almost pompous look about it as it looked her over with its beady, judgmental eyes. Its feathers ruffled unhappily.
"KRAA!" it grumbled.
"I don't like it either, but I'm afraid you and I will have to get along," said Morgana mournfully.
"KRAA! KRAA!" It said, turning its head away petulantly. Too stuck up to show his true colors, huh? No matter.
"I'll be your third hire," Kane said. "Your Majesty." He bowed, and Sybil took after him. The raven followed through reluctantly, dipping its great, feathery crown. "As long as we get our due, consider us at your service," Kane said, the barest hint of a threat in his declaration.
"For Camelot, for our kin—I will pay any price. Now, come along. There is work to be done." She turned on her heel, leading her hires toward Camelot. She didn't hear their footsteps or the quiet sailing of feathery wings disappearing into the night as her silent companions followed after her. By all appearances, Morgana was alone, and the forest was quiet.
