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Merlin’s the first to spot Leon as he staggers into the courtyard, cloak askew, face and armour blackened with soot, a bloody hole in the centre of his chainmail. Leon’s eyes flicker with relief when they land on him, and Merlin runs over, meeting him halfway.
“Leon! What happened to you? We need to get you to Gaius.” He slings Leon’s arm around his shoulder, and the knight looks at him, looking horribly lost.
“I’m– I’m not hurt,” Leon says uncertainly.
“You have a gaping bloody hole in your chainmail,” says Merlin impatiently. “Don’t tell me you’re not injured.”
“No, I was, I– I got stabbed, Merlin, and then–” he stops, digging his heels in, and Merlin frowns at him, worried. He’s never seen the knight this lost.
“Leon?” he prompts when he doesn’t continue.
“I think I might be immortal.”
Merlin sucks in a breath. “Change of plan. We’re heading to my chambers.”
He half-drags, half-carries Leon into the castle, glaring at anyone who tries to approach. He knows he should let them near, let them ask, but his mind’s spinning too much to answer their questions, and the knight himself won’t be much use. He locks eyes with Arthur near the entrance and nods, trying to convey that he’ll be alright. That’s enough, should be enough, for word to spread.
He hopes Leon will be alright.
Merlin elbows open the door to his chambers, guiding the knight to his usual seat by the table and pouring him a drink which he gulps down gratefully. “You know where the spare clothes are, change into something that isn’t covered in blood and soot.” Leon nods, heading over to the wardrobe, and Merlin locks the door with a flash of his eyes. Not that there’s much point. Most people are too scared to visit the court sorcerer, and those that aren’t know not to disturb him if he’s helping someone.
When Leon’s changed into something more comfortable he joins Merlin on the bed, swaying slightly. It’s likely a mixture of exhaustion and shock, and Merlin grips him with both hands, pushing him up against the pillows.
“You’re going to collapse.” The knight doesn’t protest, focused on Merlin’s hand combing through his hair. “Tell me what happened. Why do you say you’re immortal?”
“I was ambushed by bandits. Opportunists. They stabbed me. Definitely stabbed me. I don’t... I thought I was dead. And then I woke up.” He frowns, leaning into the warlock. “I’m sure I was dead. They wouldn’t have left me if I wasn’t. I was covered in blood and I’ve got a big hole in my chainmail. A hit like that should’ve killed me, but I don’t even have a scar, Merlin.” He pulls up his shirt. “See?”
Merlin frowns, tracing the skin. “You don’t. That’s weird. I still scar.”
“I know.” He swallows. “What’s happening to me?” Merlin shakes his head, baffled. “I didn’t manage to collect your herbs.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ll do some research. You get some sleep.” He bends down and presses a kiss to the knight’s forehead. “I’ll wake you if I find anything.”
He’s halfway across the room when he realises what he’s done and he turns round, ears burning. Leon looks fondly amused.
“We’re talking about this when I wake up.”
“Uhh... right.”
Leon’s eyes flicker closed and soon he’s snoring. Merlin waves his hand, causing any books he has containing information about immortality to float across to the desk in front of him. There’s a lot of them, and he settles down to read, trying to ignore the fact that he kissed Leon (on the forehead, but still). The thought of Talking about his feelings makes his stomach churn.
He’s still there some time later when there’s a knock at the door, and he opens it to find the king there, uncharacteristically wringing his hands nervously.
“How’s Leon?”
Merlin beckons him inside with a jerk of his head, putting his finger to his lips and speaking in a whisper. “He’ll be fine. More than fine, in fact.”
“Good, good. What are you researching?”
“Immortality. There’s not as much as it looks, most of the books only have a couple of paragraphs in them at best.”
“Why are you... you think Leon’s immortal?”
“So it would seem. But I don’t understand why.” He glances at the sleeping knight briefly. “How could he have become immortal?”
Arthur hums. “Your ears are red. Did you finally confess?”
Merlin looks at him, startled. “How did you– what makes you think I have feelings for him?”
“It’s obvious, Merlin. A blind man could see it.” Arthur chuckles softly as he buries his face in his hands. “You’re not the kingdom’s most subtle person when you’re in love, you know. You couldn’t have waited another week? Then I could have won the bet.”
“You’ve got a bet on us?” Merlin exclaims. Leon mutters something and turns over, and he lowers his voice to a hiss. “You have a bet about me and Leon?”
“So,” says Arthur, changing the subject remarkably quickly, “what do you think caused Leon’s immortality?”
Merlin scowls but decides to let it drop for the moment. He can always needle Arthur about the bet later. “I’m not sure. It could be anything, really, we don’t have a lot to go on.” He flips over the page. “Well, fuck.”
Arthur peers over his shoulder. “What is it? Some sort of cup?”
“The Cup of Life. You remember? The Druids used it to heal him all those years ago.” He gets up, pulling the book with him, and shakes Leon’s shoulder gently.
The knight stirs, looking sleepily up at him. “M’rlin... what...”
“I found something.” Leon instantly becomes more alert, sitting up, and Merlin places the book on his lap. “Here, have a look.”
The knight reads aloud, “‘If used correctly, the Cup of Life can imbue the drinker with certain aspects, including invulnerability, mediumship and immortality.’ So you think the Cup of Life did this to me?”
Merlin nods, stroking Leon’s hair from his perch on the bed beside him. “Looks like it. I can’t find any other way that would make sense.”
“I’ll never die. Never get hurt either. Forever?” Leon’s voice is slightly tremulous, and Merlin can guess what he’s thinking of – their friends, dying one by one, alone for eternity. It’s a lot to take in, and even more to bear.
He embraces the knight. “You’ll still have me Leon. I’ll be there.”
“Yes,” murmurs Leon fondly, “you will, won’t you?”
Merlin tangles his hand in the back of Leon’s hair and tugs him in for a long, passionate kiss. At some point the book falls to the ground with a thud but he doesn’t notice, too tangled up in Leon. It’s only when someone coughs that they break apart, turning to face the flaming red king.
“I’ll just... go and tell Gwen she won the bet,” he mutters, fleeing the room.
Leon looks at Merlin, brow furrowed, eyes slightly dazed. “What bet?”
“I’ll tell you later. Now. Where were we?”