Merlin Headcanons

Sir Leon

Sir Leon also has magic. How else did he survive the dragon, the undead army, and endless other threats? Unlike Merlin, however, he was subtle about it.

Which prompted this slightly crack fic:

When Arthur had announced that if whoever had used magic on their last quest came forward willingly, he'd be willing to listen to whatever explanation they had, he'd expected one person to come forward. One specific person.

He hadn't expected a line.

Mordred hadn't exactly been a surprise. Once he'd admitted it, Arthur had remembered why he'd seemed so familiar. He was the Druid boy who'd been arrested for magic all those years ago. And when they found him again, he'd been a mercenary without objections to magic, so he hadn't been too surprised when Mordred admitted to using magic on the quest.

He was surprised to realize the magic Mordred admitted to doing wasn't the magic he remembered seeing.

Gaius wasn't exactly shocking either. He'd known for a while now the man was capable of it; finding out he was still dabbling had been . . . surprisingly unsurprising.

Gwen, on the other hand, had come in weeping and saying she hadn't meant to do it. That, he hadn't been prepared for. After that, though, he'd thought he'd been ready for anything.

Then Sir Leon had walked in.

And he still hadn't figured out who'd made that sword go flying through the air.

At this point, he was starting to see why his father had been so paranoid. Apparently, half of Camelot really did have magic. He had to fight the urge to start laughing hysterically when the door cracked open again.

Merlin stood there, wringing his hands.

"Please tell me you're just here to bring me lunch."

"I have magic."

Arthur stared at him. "Of course you do." He started laughing. There was a definite note of hysteria. "Of course you do. I'm starting to think I'm the only one who doesn't."

"So . . . You're not going to execute me?"

"Are you kidding? If I executed everyone who had magic, there wouldn't be a Round Table left." He took a deep, calming breath. "So you're the one who flung the sword?"

"What sword?"

He stared at him. Then, in a horrified whisper he said, "You mean there's someone else?"