Merlin's magic (Oneshots) 1

Tiptoeing around the mistle (part 5)

It was deep in the night, when George's first son was born.
It had been a long procedure. With Gwen as midwife and Morgana as a helping hand. (And George of course. Leon turned in last. And he's had shadows under his eyes, because the only thing he managed to do was wash up and get a clean shirt after he had stumbled back into his room.)
The three women had been friends for many years now. Because Morgana loved the dresses that Karen made and Gwen was often send to grab them. To get them mended or to just invite Karen over for dinner.

It wasn't something that was often talked about.
And some nobles, like Arthur, didn't really have eyes for the activities of his sister or that of other servants (his mind was constantly preoccupied with only one certain manservant, if you know what I mean).

It was just a fact. It was the reason why Gwen and Morgana had disappeared randomly more often than not. It's also why you haven't seen either of them much in this story :) *(8)

Either way, the next day, Karen was lying in bed to rest, while Morgana and Gwen talked to her about all kinds of gossip, George was holding his son who was sleeping soundly in his arms, while Leon made them all breakfast.
Gwen, Morgana and Leon had spend the night. Neither of them slept at all, but they were there all night. They technically may not be family, but they also kind of were.

Especially Leon.
However, since both Leon and George were mostly working all day, neither Gwen nor Morgana had been aware that Leon could have just as well been related to them by blood.
Karen had mentioned they were close friends. Hell, everybody knew that. But she was well aware that telling people exactly how long and HOW she knew Leon was bound to get her tangled in webs of lies.

And now that morning had come, Morgana and Gwen were out of topics and Karen had fallen asleep in the bed she shared with her husband, so silence had settled over the four wake people.

Leon wasn't talking much, as he put a kettle of hot water over the fire and basically went through every cabinet as though he knew exactly where which object that he needed was. Which he did.
He made some dough and started baking the way he had been taught many centuries ago. The process never really changed. Still, knights weren't expected to know the art of baking.
George was smiling like an idiot and didn't comment on Leon's nervous habit. He was completely preoccupied with his first born.

"Say, Leon.... are you here often?", Morgana carefully asked, as she observed Leon's practiced hand movements.
Leon startled at the phrase shortly, before grinning amused.
"Are you here often" was a sentence often misused on him. That's why his mind's first reaction was always alarm.
It was tiring to always be alarmed by people's words and how they phrased things.
That's just how it is.
You're not interested, but people always talk about love and who they wanna date and then you hyper fixate on phrases and implications that you somehow have to work your words around so much that you can't stop thinking about it at all.
To the point where sometimes you notice innuendos faster than your friends, who then start questioning, if you're actually serious about your claims NOT to be interested.
And maybe you overthink it so much that you start doubting yourself too. Are your feelings even valid, when you keep thinking about things you're supposedly not interested in? But, apparently you're invested enough to be more knowledgeable than anyone else seems to be.

The answer is yes, you're still valid. Because jokes are not the same as attraction to people. Stories you happen to like don't have to line up with your reality. You like movies about murder investigation, too, don't you? That doesn't mean you want to be part of one. It may be fun to think about it. But as soon as someone you love dies, you will realize that you actually don't ever want to witness that. Ever.

What you have is anxiety.

Leon was past that point of self doubt. But he did experience it too, when he was younger.