Work Text:
It was only a matter of time before someone approached him. Hell, it was a miracle no one had approached Leon yet with the way that he was acting. His general air of complete instability was likely protecting him for the time being but that very real and very wonderfully effective disguise would not work for long. Instability and mental illness was a temporary deterrent that, if prolonged, would eventually turn into mother-henning or an investigation of some sort.
That last thing anyone needed was an investigation and honestly, if anyone tried to mother-hen Leon right now, they'd probably get punched or the man would have a nervous breakdown and cry. Who knew what horrors that would bring.
But. Fortunately for the hardworking people of Camelot who would be tasked with an impossible job, Gwaine had been anticipating this for a few weeks now.
He was Prepared.
And in the unlikely event that his first tactic didn't work, he had back up plans. Gwaine knew people.
He had connections.
In the end, it was Arthur who finally approached him. The prince-regent. The man of the hour, every hour.
And it would be Arthur because Arthur had known Leon for years now. While reclaiming a kingdom did wonderful things in terms of male-bonding and breeding friendship among virtual strangers, it didn't negate the fact that while steady and sure to be long lasting comrades in arms, the newly knighted knights of Camelot were indeed still new. The friendships were fresh and the period of 'am I allowed to ask' had not quite worn off for everyone just yet. Especially about what were obviously personal matters that didn't involve women.
Gwaine considered himself blessed to not have that particular moral dilemma. He was who he was and it sucked for anyone who had an issue with it.
It was certainly coming in handy with this particular treasonous situation that he and Leon had unwittingly thrown themselves into. Leon was a good guy, Gwaine would give him that. Stalwart, upright, brave, and hardworking. Loyal to the crown and moral almost to a fault. He was, to put it simply, a small step down from Lancelot – and only a step down because Lancelot had an unfortunate habit of being able to make even a priest look like a sinner.
Leon's loyalty was to Arthur first, as it should be. Gwaine didn't expect anything less from him and would frankly be disappointed if he wasn't.
But the way Gwaine saw it, for this to work – in order to protect Merlin's surprisingly dangerous secret – boundaries had to be pushed. Leon had sworn an oath to uphold the law and Merlin no longer fit in the category of law-abiding citizen.
And if Gwaine was good at anything, it was pushing boundaries. Just enough to be effective. Leon couldn't be allowed to simply hide his head in the sand and force himself to forget – he had to acknowledge, process, and accept. He had to see and be okay with the magic – otherwise, it would catch him by surprise out of nowhere, and then guilt and lifelong instincts would kick in and drive him to expose a somewhat innocent man somewhere down the road.
Unacceptable.
He'd continue dealing with that as soon as he dealt with this, in the form of one prince-regent who'd come to stand beside him.
"Is everything alright with Leon?" Arthur asked quietly.
In unison, both he and the heir to the throne turned to look at said First Knight of Camelot. There was definitely reasons to be alarmed. Leon looked less than his stellar self. His hair was in disarray for the third day in a row, going in every direction and making him look particularly crazy. He hadn't shaved (which wasn't the best look for him, Gwaine observed this with the eyes of a very caring friend), his shirt wasn't tucked, his shoes were probably on the wrong feet, and it looked like he hadn't slept in probably a week.
All in all, Leon looked like an unhinged alcoholic having a sudden unexpected midlife crisis.
He squinted, noticing a flask in Leon's hand for the first time.
Dammit.
That was definitely going a step too far.
As a professional drinker, Gwaine knew the dangers of drinking.
Mentally adding an item to his To-Do list, Gwaine turned back to Arthur, casually shrugging one shoulder.
"He's going through a rough patch right now." He said with a perfectly straight face. "But don't worry. I'm helping him through it."
Arthur gave him a strange look. "Why? And that's another thing. Since when did you two become such good friends?"
"About two weeks ago. We bonded in a corridor while accidentally overhearing a private conversation." Gwaine slid his hands into his pockets, leaning casually against the doorway of the armory. The expression on his face was the appropriate amount of mischievous and deceptively sincere. This face had gotten him out of a lot of trouble as a child and into bed with a lot of pretty women as an adult. "He hasn't been the same since. It's tragic, really. But, being the high quality fellow that I am, I've decided to ensure he recovers from the trauma."
"…and what was the nature of this conversation?" Arthur dared to ask after a long moment of silence.
Gwaine pressed a hand to his chest, appropriately affronted. "It was a private conversation, Your Highness. You, the future king of this realm, would have me divulge sensitive and personal information about your loyal subjects for no other reason than to satisfy your curiosity?" He shook his head and tsk-ed. "I cannot. Nor will I. The code of Knighthood forbids such. …I think."
The prince-regent stared at him suspiciously, glanced to Leon who was swearing up a storm under his breath, and then back to Gwaine again. "…is my kingdom in any danger?" He hedged a guess.
Gwaine shook his head emphatically. "Am I not honor bound to report things of that nature? Is not Leon honor bound to report such things? Geez, Princess." He rolled his eyes good naturedly. "Trust issues, much?"
Arthur's eyes flashed and he opened his mouth to respond except that just then there was an exceptionally loud clatter that made every occupant of the armory, except for Arthur, jump in complete surprise.
Gwaine clutched the fabric of his shirt directly above his heart, swearing softly as he took a moment to calm himself from the almost heart attack and looked around for the source of the noise. Beside him, Arthur smirked, amused, when they spotted Merlin who'd apparently dropped an armful of armor.
Of course.
"For the absolute love of God, Merlin!" Leon snapped loudly at the servant, turning his craziness on the poor man in question. The few knights around them looked startled by his outburst. Merlin jumped, looking like a deer in torchlight. "Are you trying to give someone a heart attack?"
"Sorry!" He said quickly, raising his hands defensively. "I just – I... tripped. Sorry."
"Well – don't, damn it!"
Merlin hurriedly knelt to pick up the scattered pieces, face red with embarrassment. Leon continued to glare at him, opening his flask and taking a quick gulp of its contents before returning to his… whatever he was doing, with a frustrated shake of his head.
They watched for a moment before Arthur turned back to Gwaine, his expression tighter than it had been just moments before. Arthur gave Merlin a lot of grief but Gwaine was learning that he didn't usually afford others the same privilege. It was one of the many interesting facets of their relationship and not one that many people, noble or otherwise, were willing to test. The prince-regent tilted his head towards Leon, who'd sat down with a huff and was furiously removing his boots and switching them to the right feet.
The other knights in the armory were silently beginning to make their escape, casting weird looks at the man in question as they grabbed their things and slipped out the side exit.
"It's a midlife crisis, Sire. I swear."
"For the love of Camelot, Gwaine." Arthur threw up his hands, an air of irritation coming over him. "You know what – just, whatever." He finally sighed, running a hand through his hair with frustration. "If you don't want to tell me, fine. Just make sure he pulls himself together and do it fast. I really don't have time for this kind of behavior."
Gwaine offered the prince-regent a now solemn nod and saluted him as he walked away in the direction of his servant. "Will do, my liege."
And as Leon cursed his bootlaces for not being tied properly, Gwaine realized that this might be a little harder than he'd thought.
