Poetic Advent - Weapon of Choice 1/7
Title: Weapon of Choice
Author: Poetic Advent
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 16,100 words
Pairing: Leon/Morgana
Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately.
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Written for the KMM prompt, Uther wants to marry Morgana off for political gain. Leon is merely a knight, a dogsbody. Prompt Here
DAGGER
def: a short, double-edged weapon with a pointed blade and a handle, designed specifically for close combat.
It offers versatility, allowing its user to both slash and thrust as the circumstance demands.
"You hold that blade like a girl."
The young knight's gaze snapped up from his work, his whetstone frozen in his other hand. "Pardon?"
He had the kindest eyes she'd ever seen. No matter where he was, no matter who commanded his attention, those blue eyes stripped away pretense, beckoning a body closer, closer. They mesmerized her, had done so from the very first moment she saw him amongst the others, even though he should've been lost in that scarlet sea, just another faceless guard with more brawn than brains. A man such as this would never survive as a knight of Camelot, but it seemed nobody had the nerve to tell him so.
"You heard me." She straightened her posture, refusing to quail under his attention. For as many weeks as she'd watched him train, she still felt like a child compared to him. He couldn't be that much older than her fourteen years, though. Six, seven years at the outside. "Even Arthur could best you, and he's just a boy." There. Placing Arthur in a different category should help the knight see her as more of his equal.
"Prince Arthur is still in training."
"As are you, if memory serves."
His eyes narrowed. "Can I be of service, my lady?"
Even with her deliberate agitation, he refused to break his polite composure. Short of stripping out of her gown and running through the training fields without a stitch on, she'd tried everything she could to get him to notice her. But Leon was too focused on winning Uther's favor, pushing himself harder than any of the other young men striving to rise through the ranks. He saw nothing but the weapon in his hand and the opponent before him. He gave her no choice but to become one or the other.
She strolled farther into the armory, trailing her fingers along the sword hilts she passed as she skirted the edge of the room. "I rather thought I might be of some service to you," she mused. She deliberately kept her eyes away, her chin up, to better bare her throat and upper chest. Her dress was a size too small, and while she had to move slowly to keep from losing her breath, it succeeded in making her breasts seem fuller. Whether he noticed or not, she had no idea, else she'd shatter the nonchalance she strove for. "My father was an expert swordsman. He taught me everything he knew."
His unexpected snort startled her smooth steps, but by the time she glanced in his direction, Leon had already schooled his features. "I already train with the best."
"The best have you dropping your blade the moment before you strike. That's why Alaric won your match yesterday." She shrugged and turned back to the door. "But it's no matter to me if you wish to die on your first real quest. Camelot needs knights who can actually fight, not boys playing with their swords."
Her silken hem whispered across the stone floor, each step creating another shiver to race through her. He needed to stop her. She'd made her first move, and now it was his turn, didn't he understand that? If he let her walk out, she wouldn't be able to try again, not if she wished to retain even a fraction of her dignity. What more could she do, though? Nothing else seemed to get through to him.
Please, Leon, don't be a fool.
"You watched the match?"
Her feet stopped, but her heart became fleet. Four simple words, perhaps not those she would've chosen, but enough for her purpose, enough for hope to kindle anew like the fires that rampaged through enemy hearts.
"I told you," she said without turning. "I enjoy swordplay. Camelot has some of the finest knights the five kingdoms have ever known."
"Alaric boasted about the win all day."
"As well he should. It was a fair loss." Lying to soften the blow would have been wiser, but she wouldn't get what she wanted if she shielded his ego.
"But you believe I could have won."
She turned with a small, triumphant smile. "I know you could have. You have a longer reach and a stronger swing. Your weakness lies in form."
"Then why have none of the others pointed this out to me? Why hasn't the king?"
"You're one among many, and you haven't yet been called upon to do anything more dangerous than nightly guard duty. They won't notice you until you give them reason to."
His head cocked. Curiosity played in the depths of his eyes. "You did."
Maintaining the distance between them helped quell the butterflies that had found a permanent home in her stomach. "Because I had reason."
At times like this, she craved the guidance of a mother or an older sister, someone familiar with this battle between men and women who could tell her how much was too much to admit, how much was too little. She had the feeling that Uther's amusement at her flirtatious behavior with visiting nobles wasn't entirely appropriate, but this was what she knew best. She knew men already found her beautiful. What she didn't know was whether this one would-or could-see her for more than the king's over-indulged ward.
His response was an eternity in coming, time slipping away from her when every second in battle counted. "I don't wish to be lost in the shadows."
"Of course not." A step forward. Each one mattered. "You're proud of what you do, who you are."
"I've wanted to be a knight of Camelot my entire life."
The sudden ferocity in his tone sliced through her defenses. Her pace faltered, her traitorous thighs quivering at the proof of passion he so rarely unleashed. "I could help you be the greatest knight Uther has ever seen."
"If I accept your help, the others can't find out."
"I know." Though she didn't like it. For Leon, though, she'd settle for being the secret for the time it took to gain his affection. "They wouldn't understand. Their so-called honor blinds them."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "Do you question my honor, then?"
"Far from it. I applaud your wisdom in recognizing a strong ally." She came within arm's reach, sidestepping the tip of his sword so nothing more came between them. "We are allies now, are we not?"
For all his outer calm, he wasn't as unaware of her as he wanted her to believe. His nostrils flared, and his lashes ducked for a single moment as his gaze strayed elsewhere than what was best and proper for a ward of the king. Not for Morgana, though. She'd thrown away thoughts of best and proper the first time she saw Leon.
He nodded once. He even smiled.
"Allies."
Part 2
Author: Poetic Advent
Rating: NC17
Word Count: 16,100 words
Pairing: Leon/Morgana
Disclaimer: Not mine unfortunately.
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Summary: Written for the KMM prompt, Uther wants to marry Morgana off for political gain. Leon is merely a knight, a dogsbody. Prompt Here
DAGGER
def: a short, double-edged weapon with a pointed blade and a handle, designed specifically for close combat.
It offers versatility, allowing its user to both slash and thrust as the circumstance demands.
"You hold that blade like a girl."
The young knight's gaze snapped up from his work, his whetstone frozen in his other hand. "Pardon?"
He had the kindest eyes she'd ever seen. No matter where he was, no matter who commanded his attention, those blue eyes stripped away pretense, beckoning a body closer, closer. They mesmerized her, had done so from the very first moment she saw him amongst the others, even though he should've been lost in that scarlet sea, just another faceless guard with more brawn than brains. A man such as this would never survive as a knight of Camelot, but it seemed nobody had the nerve to tell him so.
"You heard me." She straightened her posture, refusing to quail under his attention. For as many weeks as she'd watched him train, she still felt like a child compared to him. He couldn't be that much older than her fourteen years, though. Six, seven years at the outside. "Even Arthur could best you, and he's just a boy." There. Placing Arthur in a different category should help the knight see her as more of his equal.
"Prince Arthur is still in training."
"As are you, if memory serves."
His eyes narrowed. "Can I be of service, my lady?"
Even with her deliberate agitation, he refused to break his polite composure. Short of stripping out of her gown and running through the training fields without a stitch on, she'd tried everything she could to get him to notice her. But Leon was too focused on winning Uther's favor, pushing himself harder than any of the other young men striving to rise through the ranks. He saw nothing but the weapon in his hand and the opponent before him. He gave her no choice but to become one or the other.
She strolled farther into the armory, trailing her fingers along the sword hilts she passed as she skirted the edge of the room. "I rather thought I might be of some service to you," she mused. She deliberately kept her eyes away, her chin up, to better bare her throat and upper chest. Her dress was a size too small, and while she had to move slowly to keep from losing her breath, it succeeded in making her breasts seem fuller. Whether he noticed or not, she had no idea, else she'd shatter the nonchalance she strove for. "My father was an expert swordsman. He taught me everything he knew."
His unexpected snort startled her smooth steps, but by the time she glanced in his direction, Leon had already schooled his features. "I already train with the best."
"The best have you dropping your blade the moment before you strike. That's why Alaric won your match yesterday." She shrugged and turned back to the door. "But it's no matter to me if you wish to die on your first real quest. Camelot needs knights who can actually fight, not boys playing with their swords."
Her silken hem whispered across the stone floor, each step creating another shiver to race through her. He needed to stop her. She'd made her first move, and now it was his turn, didn't he understand that? If he let her walk out, she wouldn't be able to try again, not if she wished to retain even a fraction of her dignity. What more could she do, though? Nothing else seemed to get through to him.
Please, Leon, don't be a fool.
"You watched the match?"
Her feet stopped, but her heart became fleet. Four simple words, perhaps not those she would've chosen, but enough for her purpose, enough for hope to kindle anew like the fires that rampaged through enemy hearts.
"I told you," she said without turning. "I enjoy swordplay. Camelot has some of the finest knights the five kingdoms have ever known."
"Alaric boasted about the win all day."
"As well he should. It was a fair loss." Lying to soften the blow would have been wiser, but she wouldn't get what she wanted if she shielded his ego.
"But you believe I could have won."
She turned with a small, triumphant smile. "I know you could have. You have a longer reach and a stronger swing. Your weakness lies in form."
"Then why have none of the others pointed this out to me? Why hasn't the king?"
"You're one among many, and you haven't yet been called upon to do anything more dangerous than nightly guard duty. They won't notice you until you give them reason to."
His head cocked. Curiosity played in the depths of his eyes. "You did."
Maintaining the distance between them helped quell the butterflies that had found a permanent home in her stomach. "Because I had reason."
At times like this, she craved the guidance of a mother or an older sister, someone familiar with this battle between men and women who could tell her how much was too much to admit, how much was too little. She had the feeling that Uther's amusement at her flirtatious behavior with visiting nobles wasn't entirely appropriate, but this was what she knew best. She knew men already found her beautiful. What she didn't know was whether this one would-or could-see her for more than the king's over-indulged ward.
His response was an eternity in coming, time slipping away from her when every second in battle counted. "I don't wish to be lost in the shadows."
"Of course not." A step forward. Each one mattered. "You're proud of what you do, who you are."
"I've wanted to be a knight of Camelot my entire life."
The sudden ferocity in his tone sliced through her defenses. Her pace faltered, her traitorous thighs quivering at the proof of passion he so rarely unleashed. "I could help you be the greatest knight Uther has ever seen."
"If I accept your help, the others can't find out."
"I know." Though she didn't like it. For Leon, though, she'd settle for being the secret for the time it took to gain his affection. "They wouldn't understand. Their so-called honor blinds them."
Leon's eyes narrowed. "Do you question my honor, then?"
"Far from it. I applaud your wisdom in recognizing a strong ally." She came within arm's reach, sidestepping the tip of his sword so nothing more came between them. "We are allies now, are we not?"
For all his outer calm, he wasn't as unaware of her as he wanted her to believe. His nostrils flared, and his lashes ducked for a single moment as his gaze strayed elsewhere than what was best and proper for a ward of the king. Not for Morgana, though. She'd thrown away thoughts of best and proper the first time she saw Leon.
He nodded once. He even smiled.
"Allies."
Part 2