Title: After all
Summary: Leon is not happy with the latest additions to Camelot
Warnings: not betaed yet, sowwy!
Word Count: 693
Author's Notes: This one was inspired by something Rupert Young said this weekend at RingCon when he was asked how Leon might have felt when Arthur knighted some commoners.
Leon slammed the door and ripped the cloak off his neck. This couldn’t be! Arthur couldn’t mean it! These were desperate times, he knew, and they had needed anyone they could get to free Camelot from Morgana. But now that they were back, Arthur didn’t revoke his decision and Leon had to train those peasants who were not worthy of the red cloak.
Scrambling out of his chainmail, Leon just dropped it where he stood and sat on his bed to pull the boots off his feet with such force that one of them escaped his grip and flew across the room. The other he threw at the door, where it caused a loud bang and then dropped to the floor.
Ever since he’d been a boy, he wanted to become a knight. From very early on, he, the first born son of one of Uther’s most loyal advisors, had been trained and went through all the official stages. His time as a squire had been hell, but he knew it would be worth it one day and he had never been prouder than when Uther had knighted him.
He believed in Arthur, too. He did things differently, of course, and a lot of times it made Leon cringe when Arthur bent the rules here or made up new ones there, but it had always been for the right course.
But now…Leon had grit his teeth in the cave when Arthur had made the rowdy bunch of nobodies into knights. Those chaps didn’t have the faintest idea what it meant to be a knight of Camelot.
Pacing his room, Leon had to admit that they all knew how to fight. They knew how to handle a sword. Some in ways that weren’t officially taught and trained here in Camelot, but which had proven to be very effective.
Lancelot had been to Camelot before. He at least understood the rules and the basic idea of knighthood. So maybe he wasn’t that bad, even though he wasn’t of noble decent.
Percival was still young. A bit rough around the edges, but given the right training, he might live up to the expectations.
The one that aggravated Leon the most was Gwaine. A scallywag if this world had ever seen one who didn’t believe in anything or anyone. Who didn’t even understand the meaning of the word ‘rules’ and who didn’t have any intention to sticking to them. Gwaine detested everything that had to do with nobility and made rude remarks whenever he got the chance.
It made Leon’s blood boil just to think that this man would sit at the round table with them all and would probably take any chance he got to influence the younger knights in bad ways.
As the door to his chambers opened, Leon had a deep scowl on his face and was ready to bellow at anyone who dared to disturb him in his anger.
“What do you want?” He demanded when he was faced with the main object of his wrath.
The cocky grin on Gwaine’s face alone made him want to punch something.
“Care for an apple?” Gwaine held his gaze and bit into the red fruit he was holding.
“You know I don’t particularly fancy apples.” Leon’s tone of voice was icy and he was a bit proud that he managed to stay this calm.
Unfazed, Gwaine finished chewing and set the apple aside before he stepped close. “Fancy the bearer of the apple?”
No, Leon wanted to shout. No, he didn’t care about the beautiful smile, the livid eyes, the nose that was slightly on the large side, the wonderful shiny hair. No, he didn’t want to kiss the fruit juice off those lips and pull the strong shoulders against his chest. This man presented everything that Leon was brought up to look down upon. Then why did he want him so much?
When Gwaine wrapped his arms around Leon’s neck, dug his fingers into his curls and pulled him close for a toe-curling kiss, Leon started to believe that Gwaine might have some talents that added to the assets of Camelot after all.