Merlyn's Last Dream

The Coming of Arthur P1

News of the lost patrol had extended further than the court, the lower town littered with rumours of its demise. Death was a foul stench in the air, plaguing the people with a deep sense of melancholy sorrow. Camelot was teetering on the edge of some great catastrophe; Arthur could feel the sombre mood within his very bones.

And then, a lone figure had appeared upon the horizon, the man staggering towards the gates. His cloak was badly torn; the golden dragon embroidered into the fabric now matted in crimson blood. Sir Leon, who had previously been presumed dead, had returned; as soon as he'd stumbled through the gates to the city, the king ordered that the knight be brought to the throne room.

Up close, Arthur was astonished to see that Leon wasn't even scratched, his ordeal only shown through his torn clothing. If the prince could take his eyes away from the living, breathing knight in front of him, he would have seen that the court was a room full of smiles, the nobles just as amazed as he at Leon's state. It was impossible. Cenred, who had claimed responsibility for the attack, never left anybody alive, let alone unharmed.

If Arthur usually made a show of hugging his knights, he would have done so the moment Leon strode into the room, but alas, he was never one to show physical affection. With a genuine smile, the prince closed the distance between himself and his knight, patting the man on the back with a gesture of kinship.

"We thought you were dead!" he exclaimed, not quite able to believe that it was truly Leon who stood before him.

For his part, the knight seemed just as astonished at his survival. "I was dead, or as good as, until the druids found me."

Arthur almost shivered at the instantaneous shift in atmosphere at the barest implication of magic. His father, who had previously been grinning like a madman, let his smile fade, replacing it with some sort of curious frown.

"Druids?"

"Yes, my lord." Leon nodded, bravely holding the king's gaze. "I owe them my life."

There was a long silence. Arthur held his breath, ready to step in if his father decided to do something ridiculous, like execute Sir Leon for consorting with the druids. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlyn straighten, watching her exchange a meaningful look with Gaius. Before he could process whatever emotion that flickered through her eyes, the king stepped closer to Leon, studying him as if he were some scientific marvel.

"How did they heal you? You were as good as dead, as you said." his father questioned, his interest almost as alarming as his bloodthirst.

Leon simply shrugged, hardly well-read in the intricacies of druid custom. "I don't know."

"Did they use magic?" the king inquired although, by the look on his face, he already knew the answer.

Leon seemed to panic, his face flushing brightly.

"Well, I-"

"Yes or no? It's a simple enough question."

Once again, the knight hesitated, but this time, he managed to find his words.

"I only know that I drank from some kind of cup, some kind of-"

"Cup?" the king interrupted rather rudely, his intrigue worrying. Arthur had hoped that his father wouldn't send him to hunt the druids down, especially after they'd saved Leon from an untimely death, but there was something in his expression, a flash of greed, a lust for power.

"It was extraordinary, my lord." Leon murmured, still struggling to find the right words to describe whatever sensation he'd felt running through his veins. "I have known nothing like it. From the moment it touched my lips, I could feel my life return to me."