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"Yule already?" Leon's voice raised in pitch from behind the changing screen. The rustling and soft clinging of the garments and chainmail almost comforting in the damp silence that came with the winter solstice.
The snow beyond the warm, candlelit room made workers less busy and nature itself quieter. No more scampering and singing animals or rushing water as it was all frozen over. The rustling of leaves having left just a few weeks before, when autumn came and left. Now leaving the trees barren and the birds locating to different places to make their nests.
"Indeed, Sir," George replied. Reaching up to throw the gambeson over the screen and collect the discarded clothing.
"George." Came Leon's chiding tone. The servant internally groaned as it had been the same tone used with his name he had heard time and time again for many years since he started working for Leon.
"Indeed, Leon." He corrected his words.
The knight quickly peeked around the side of the screen. "Thank you," He said before he returned to change. George let out a low breathy chuckle.
In the comfort of Leon's chambers or within just each other's company, Leon's requests to drop the titles were always forgotten. Even after more than a decade of knowing each other. The proper titles were ingrained into his head.
"I should get to Arthur to discuss the-" Leon stepped around the screen, freezing at what he saw which wasn't there minutes before.
He stepped up to the table that sat in the middle of the room, "What's this?" A burlap-wrapped item laid on the table almost taunting Leon at its sudden nature.
George shrugged, "First day of Yule." He glanced at Leon, now regretting the action.
"I just thought—maybe—you don't have to accept it." He quickly sputtered out, trying to find something else to do to keep his hands busy and stay preoccupied.
"No it's…" Leon shook his head with a small smile on his face.
He picked up the item, turning it in his hands. "We used to do this all the time when we were just boys."
"But these past few years…" He continued.
George couldn't help but scoff, "You fought a dragon."
"Goodness George," Leon chuckled, "I still don't remember much of that night."
"Wasn't there something with a troll as well?"
Leon only laughed more, "George please."
They both stood with fond smiles on their faces. Leon looked back down at the gift in hand while George ducked his head and took to fiddling with the flowers in a vase that didn't need any tending to.
Leon unwrapped the burlap, putting it aside as he saw the gift. He lifted the dagger and unsheathed it. The silver plated blade glistened with the dancing flames of the nearby candles.
"It's beautiful." He muttered, voice but a gasp and full of shock.
"You mentioned needing a new one." George left the flowers and moved towards Leon's bed. Fixing just wrinkles of the bedding as it was already made. But that took all of two seconds leaving him jittery in his steps and hands at a loss for contentment.
"That must have been months ago," Leon said in disbelief. All while George finally abandoned the hope of finding anything to fix or clean, and stood with his hands clasped.
"Nonsense, a week, maybe two." George refused to believe he remembered something from months ago. Leon had just mentioned it the other week… right?
"I recall Beltane, us having that conversation."
George opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it. Leon was right, they had had the conversation many months ago. The day when kids were running about dancing around the maypole and flowers were being weaved in braids, into crowns and tucked behind ears.
He had accompanied Leon on his patrol of the grounds. Not much of a patrol, but more so all the knights watching for any danger while still enjoying the celebration. All the merchants that travelled into Camelot during the celebration had their goods on display, one, in particular, being a blacksmith.
Stunning Leon had said as he had unsheathed a silver dagger. Followed by other rambling words of its intricacies and balance that George never quite caught when Leon went on his tangents of swords, daggers, crossbows, amongst other things.
But he knew after decades of being in one another's company, Leon found the beauty in objects like the crafters themselves.
George shrugged, "Good memory, I suppose." Picking up a polishing cloth he moved to the, not in use, candlestick holder. Opting to polish something even if he soon wore the shiny silver down.
"Thank you, George."
Leon set it down as the tolling of the bell sounded. Striking the daily morning bell everyone in Camelot knew.
"I should get to his Majesty about tonight's feast." Leon grabbed his sword belt, strapping it on, before grabbing his cape as well.
"Of course," George answered, not raising his gaze from the spot he was running the cloth over.
"And George?
There were a few moments of silence before the servant realized Leon wanted his attention. Briefly giving it, as he stopped his hand and looked up at him.
Leon smiled, "Don't polish that poor candle holder to death." The door swung shut behind the mischievous teasing grin Leon had supported.
Leaving George alone as he set down both items and let out a breath of air. The day had just started yet he couldn't wait for it to end.
~*~
George sighed. While Leon was right about the past few years being nothing but chaos and the unimaginable. Some things changed rather more drastically in the months passed. And by changed he meant events that led to multiple magical people now in Camelot. But not everybody knew that. The one secret he held from his friend of many, many years.
"Stop moving." He said again for what seemed the third time in the past thirty minutes
"Sorry," Daegal replied. The boy who had far too much energy for such events couldn't stay still. And for the servants, having to remain in one place, hands clasped, waiting to be beckoned forward by their masters was all to be done during the feast.
But George quickly found out the young boy wasn't much of a servant to Mordred. But just a title concocted and given to keep him close to Merlin and Mordred and safe in the castle.
Leon looked back every so often giving him an amused but sympathetic look. The feast had just begun and George didn't know how much longer he could stand the fidgeting of the boy beside him.
Mordred seemed to notice his plight with the boy, taking sympathy on both of them as he called Daegal to him. Telling him something that made the boy happy before he returned back to his spot. Still wiggling in place, but not enough George felt the need to tell him to stop at how obvious he was being.
Soon he figured out their plan at the King rose, made his speech, then sat; Mordred excused himself with Daegal quickly bounding after him. Though what confused him was not even twenty minutes later Leon did the same. An out of bound action for the knight as he always stayed till the very end, usually long enough to end up with random drunk stories from his fellow Knights.
"Long day?" George asked as his steps fell into sync with Leon's, beside him rather than behind him.
"You could say that."
"You looked like you were having some exacerbations back there yourself." Leon chuckled much to George's demise.
"He's young." He stated.
While Leon laughed half-heartedly. "To be that young again."
"Is that the reason why?" George asked.
"Why what?"
"Excuse yourself from the feast." He looked up to meet Leon's gaze. Quite the ways up, with them so close and Leon being over six feet tall. And yet with the given hints, he still received a confused look from the Knight.
"Old age hangs heavy and weary on many things." He provided.
Leon stopped in his steps and looked down at him, "Did you just call me old?"
The accusatory tone mixed with amusement and disbelief made George's stoic expression dip into a brief smile.
"Well…"
Leon scoffed, "fair reminder that you're not much younger than me, George."
"And actually, no." He continued. He reached into his coat pulling out an item wrapped in red cloth. Much fancier than simple plain burlap.
"It was this." He placed the item in George's hands. The fabric, soft, almost silky much in comparison to the capes the knights wore. We used to do this when we were boys, Leon's earlier words replayed in his head. Both of them, teenagers having just met by accident and ended up in many unlikely situations, and to come some months later to say they even became friends.
"It won't bite." Leon joked. Seeing as George was still staring at the item in hand, without uttering a single word.
George looked to Leon, alarmed. "Sorry, I just…" He looked back down. The present wasn’t the problem, as he was rather grateful for it, the uncommon warm feeling consumed him with the small gesture. But rather what Leon had said. What has happened these past years… Leon was a knight of Camelot, and George a servant.
But Leon didn’t know the story of how many magic users were held under Camelot's roofs. To tell him, George felt he would be betraying all those young teenagers he promised their deadly secret would be safe with him. But not to tell him would be betraying and lying to Leon, his friend of more than fifteen years.
"Really thought I wasn't going to get you anything?" Leon continued as George failed to answer again. His thoughts, too complicated to form a sentence that wouldn’t be a drastic change of conversation.
"No, I— thank you." He undid the soft red cloth, revealing the present.
"A dagger?"
"For protection." Leon started.
It wasn't anything ornate but certainly something far out of what he would buy for himself. While still simple, it somehow held an elegance to it, similar to daggers he's seen other knights wield.
"Most of everyone carries a dagger around." The knight continued. "You never have, I figured better now than never. Especially with everything that has been going on as of lately."
He wanted him to be safe. And while he had always felt safe within the citadel walls, trusting the reigning kings or queens and the Knights who always protected them. This was Leon making sure and wanting him to be safe.
"You like it?"
"Yes, of course." It felt right in his hands. All of Leon's words about critical perfection, balance, and the way the blade felt didn't matter anymore when it came to meaning.
Though he could fight himself on and on till he couldn't stand to face the knight, or till there were dark circles under his eyes. While the cool metal felt right grasped in his palms, it didn't feel right in his heart.
"George?" Leon's tone fell the same as his hand did to George's shoulder; softly but firm.
"You alright?"
His voice laced with worry and concern George felt was a tied string to a lie. To continue to lie, continue to hide his knowledge of magic users in Camelot. And in keeping their secret safe, it was keeping them alive. What was trust compared to that of a life?
"George?" Leon's voice grew louder. Finally grabbing George's attention back to him.
"What's going on?"
George quickly shook his head. "Nothing, I'm sorry. I'm wasting your time-"
"Hey," Leon quickly interrupted what would have been George's inevitable rambling. "Are you sure it's nothing?"
His eyes were filled with concern and his eyebrows were curled up in curiosity. This manner of behaviour was out of character for George, even if he did act more himself around Leon. There still was a certain facade he always held.
"You know you can always tell me anything?"
George quickly nodded his head, forcing a small smile onto his face in an attempt to convince Leon. "I Know."
He could, he always could. And he knew that. But this, holding someone's life in his hands. He was no knight, or king or queen or any title which required him to have to decide between life and death. He was a servant and that's all he would ever be. Keep his head down and take orders and don't say anything unless asked or talked to.
"Then, Come on," Leon patted his shoulder, "let's end this night on a good note."
George almost scoffed. A good note… a good note would be saying all that he knew and not having to worry about Leon possibly going to tell the King what he was told.
Instead, he nodded his and pretended to be the person he had always been before everything had changed.
"Sitting by the fire sounds nice." Leon started to walk again. George's footsteps lagging behind then catching up as Leon would see and slow down, but only to continue this uneven pattern all the way to his chambers.
He was just a servant, and all he could do was pretend everything was okay. So he would do just that, follow Leon, sit by the fire and pretend everything was okay.
And lie to Leon… but lying wasn't the only thing he was doing, but keeping a secret, a secret that would keep many people he had grown to care about alive.