Chapter Text
Out of Character (The Story)
“Is Camelot’s first knight… courting your manservant?”
At Agravaine’s question, Arthur looked up from the grain storage report he was reading and had to turn around to face his uncle whom he realised had stopped walking and was staring at the courtyard, an expression of disbelieve on his face that matched the incredulous tone to his question.
He followed Agravaine’s stare to see Sir Leon presenting Merlin with a bright orange scarf, a hopeful, almost bashful smile on the knight’s face.
Merlin looked surprised but his lips slowly curved upwards as he reverently touched the material of the scarf.
Arthur smiled when he saw the knight fondly wrapped the scarf around Merlin’s neck before teasingly tried to wrap another round around him as though trying to bundle Merlin up like a child.
The prince swallowed back a chuckle when Merlin laughingly swatted Leon’s hands away.
Undaunted, the normally stoic ginger-haired knight simply put an arm around Merlin, locked him in a bear hug and ruffled his hair, grinning widely as he did so.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen Sir Leon that affectionate with anyone,” Agravaine said, a note of amazement in his voice.
Arthur cleared his throat and silently reminded himself to have a small chat with his knights regarding their treatments of Merlin in public.
Ever since coming back from the Isle of the Blessed and discovering Merlin’s gifts, his knights of the round table had become more protective of Merlin and it was becoming obvious. This won’t do for they had all agreed to keep Merlin’s secret.
Arthur may be regent, but his father was still king and magic was still outlawed in Camelot.
Then again, his knights had always been rather protective of Merlin. So maybe it wasn’t so out of the ordinary after all.
So Arthur simply shrugged and calmly replied, “Leon adores Merlin as he would a little brother.”
“It seems out of character for him,” Agravaine insisted.
“You’ll find uncle, Merlin, has that kind of effect on almost everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
Arthur maintained his gaze on his raven-haired warlock and smiled when he saw the other knights approaching.
Turning back to his uncle, he nodded towards the courtyard, “Watch,” he said.
And watched Agravaine did.
His mouth thinned into a grim line when he saw Sir Gwaine bounding towards Sir Leon and his nephew’s manservant.
He didn’t like the roguish knight much. Sir Gwaine was too brash and insolent in his opinion, much too fond of the ale and had no care in the world. He doubted the knight even know how to be anything but rough and loud.
It took less than a minute for him to be proven wrong for the knight’s expression conspicuously softened as he pulled the servant gently out of Sir Leon’s arms and proceeded to gently brush the light snow off of the boy, a tender expression and an almost sappy smile on his face as he attentively listened to the boy’s chatter and obligingly stroke the material of the scarf that the boy was happily showing off to him.
Agravaine’s eyebrow lifted when the knight turned to Sir Leon with obvious gratitude on his face. He never knew that Sir Gwaine could care about anything as much as to have that kind of look on his face.
Next came Sir Lancelot whom Agravaine could never find any fault with no matter how much he scrutinised. The knight knew his place, always respectful, never spoke out of turn and knew his manners. He had never once seen the knight be anything but proper, the very picture of composure.
His brows drew together when he saw Sir Lancelot’s face turned teasing, a mischievous look in his eyes as he too, playfully tried to bundle Merlin up the way Sir Leon previously did.
His eyes widened when the knight’s face covered with worry, almost frantic when the servant slipped on the grass and fell on his behind. Gone was his calm demeanour as he hurriedly attempted to make sure the boy was alright in an almost earnest panic.
He shook his head at what he was seeing. That was three knights acting out of character in but a small fraction of a candle mark.
He continued to watch in fascination when the raven-haired boy laughingly ducked behind the towering Sir Percival, seeking refuge from Sir Lancelot’s and Sir Gwaine’s obvious attempt to ensure his well-being, was almost in awe when he saw the other knights including Sir Leon, laughing when the boy loudly declared two of Camelot’s best knights, renowned, celebrated knights, a mother hen and a papa bear.
“Leon became an adoring older brother, Gwaine an overprotective papa bear, Lancelot a fretting mother hen, Percival an expressive chatterbox and Elyan an observant guardian around Merlin,” his nephew needlessly pointed out.
Keeping his gaze on the courtyard, sure enough, Agravaine could see that the normally taciturn Sir Percival whom he could barely get a word out of was enthusiastically describing something to the manservant, complete with hand gestures and animated facial expressions while the usually distant and almost gruff Sir Elyan stood by watchful and mindful, joining the rest of the knights in silently steering the servant away from puddles of melted snow or slippery grass, ready with a steadying hand to keep the clumsy boy from tripping or falling, an equally fond expression on his face.
“Merlin has that effect on people. They tend to act differently around him,” Arthur said, nodding at Agravaine as he took his leave to join his knights and manservant in the courtyard.
“I cannot believe you bought him an orange scarf, Leon. He’ll scare all the game from miles away without ever needing to trip and make all the noises he usually makes to warn them away,” the prince drawled out as he walked towards them.
“Well, I wouldn’t have to if you lot stop insisting that it's fun chasing little animals even in the winter, dollophead,” the servant answered with a wide grin on his face.
Instead of being outraged by the insolent respond, Agravaine watched an answering grin formed on his nephew’s face.
“Idiot,” said the young prince, the fondness in his tone belying his mocking word.
“Clotpole,” the servant responded unrepentantly.
What on earth is a dollophead and a clotpole? Agravaine wondered even as he heard his nephew’s reply.
“That’s still not a word, Merlin.”
Huh…out of character indeed, Agravaine thought as he saw the fond looks exchanged between prince and servant, amused and teasing, clearly affectionate.
***The End***