Title: These Are Our Lives

Fandom: Merlin

Rating: K

Pairings/Characters: Ensemble, Sir Leon leading.

Spoilers: None.

Warnings: None.

Disclaimer: If you're looking for the owners of Merlin in this corner, I'll tell ya right now: go fish.

Summary: Leon has eyes. He uses them (and his heart aches).

AN: Another little tidbit from my files. Enjoy :D

Chapter Ten: The Watchers

A lot of people had their eyes on Arthur Pendragon. This was only to be expected, as he was the future king. Most of those eyes were of the judging, appraising, and measuring sort. Judging his personality, looks, and character. Appraising how much favor they could curry with him. Measuring his worth and value. Few of these watchers were really interested in him as Arthur, but only as the King Arthur he would become. Few really knew him. You might even say that his own father did not know him, though there are differing opinions on that.

Leon watched Arthur, from a young age. Being raised in a household that did not discourage him from playing with the servants' children or associating with the lower class, he had a somewhat clearer view than other boys his age. He recognized that while Arthur was the future king of Camelot, he was also a young boy. A young boy would could be molded and directed in almost any way. Sometimes Leon, in trying to imagine what kind of king and leader Arthur might become, would think up all sorts of frightening scenarios. Captured by evil sorcerers, Arthur could turn against his father and kingdom. Raised in Cendred's court, he could become a cruel and vicious tyrant. There was so much molding in childhood, the kind that set the stage for life. It was because of this that Leon watched, almost in agony, as the stage for Arthur's life was set, a stage of deceit, intrigue, and backstabbing. Uther, too busy and full of grief to pay much attention to his son, pushed him away but demanded too much. Plots and near-assassinations made Arthur less then trusting. So-called friends licked his boots and gave him a skewed worldview. Only Morgana was really sincere, but clashed with Arthur so often that he sometimes became more antagonistic and proud, just to make up for it.

Leon tried to help, but there was only so much he could do. He watched as Arthur seemed to slip further and further away from being the king Camelot needed.

The second act in the play of Arthur's life started, and all of a sudden, the stage began to change. It all began with a scene Leon only heard about: a young boy standing up to Arthur and, it seemed, calling him a few names in the process. At first Leon chalked that up as some stupid peasant who didn't know when it was wise to keep his mouth shut, but he had, like many before and after him, completely misjudged the boy. He was like a breath of fresh air, a drink of cool water after a hard day's ride. He was Merlin, and he was exactly what Arthur and Camelot needed.

Arthur did not need someone to tell him he was a marvelous, splendid person even when he was a prat (he had his "friends" for that). He did not need someone to push him too hard or expect too much (he had Uther for that). What Arthur needed was sincerity. He needed respect honestly given. He needed a friend, someone who saw him as who and what he really was: not just Prince Arthur, or King Arthur, or Sir Arthur, but just . . . Arthur. A man who needed encouragement and respect and kindness and friendship and rebuke just like everybody else.

People still watched Arthur Pendragon. Nobles and enemies watched. Leon watched. Uther watched. Morgana and Gaius and Gwen watched. None of them saw the exact same thing, and nobody drew the exact same conclusions, but as Leon watched Arthur and Merlin wrestle on the practice field, smiling and laughing, insults bristling from every sentence, he thought that Arthur didn't need to fear being watched anymore.

"I respect your sincerity. Respect? Oh, man, it's water in the desert . . . "

-Robert Bolt

This story was mostly written for the quote. I was struck by it while reading A Man For All Seasons. I find it funny that Henry the Eighth says something like that (^) and is a little less than sincere, while Arthur never says it and means it all the same.