Chapter Text
It's the dead of winter when Merlin first notices it. They're making camp a day's march from Camelot, returning from a hunt gone astray. If a few capes on the hard ground and a dwindling fire can be classed as camping that is.
To be fair, it's not exactly anyone's fault that they're camp is so, well, shit. None of them expected to be sleeping away from the citadel tonight. It was supposed to be a quick hunt to raise the spirits of the knights of the Round Table, as Arthur had put it in the council meeting. 'We'll be back by nightfall, no need to worry'
Yeah so much for that.
Merlin's sure that by the time they get back, Camelot will be on full alert, organising search parties for their missing King. There's nothing they can do about it now, though.
What should have been a leisurely ride through the forest as the knights hunted for deer and rabbits turned into a mad goose chase after a magical creature. One causing havoc in Camelot's poorer lands.
They had managed to catch the thing in a village, almost twice the distance they meant to travel from the city, and save any more citizens from being devoured by some sort of hellhound that Merlin was going to have to ask Gaius about later.
And by 'we' he meant that Arthur had used him as bait while he and the Knights took the beast down, with Gwaine striking the killing blow, much to Arthur's playful annoyance.
Anyway, it's far too cold to sleep, especially because, unlike the knights, Merlin doesn't have a cloak to use as a makeshift blanket.
So he's awake. Debating whether everyone is asleep enough for him to use magic to relight the fire.
What? He's cold!
Elyan is closest to the fire, wrapped in his cloak and what looks like his old hood from before he was a Knight. He must still keep it on him for some reason. Well, at least it's coming in handy now, Merlin thinks.
Percival and Gwaine are next to him, in a single tangled lump of limbs and cloaks. They look the cosiest out of everyone on account of their combined body heat. It makes sense that their immediate reactions to cold weather would be to cuddle, as Percival comes from a big family so must be accustomed to sleeping close with another, and Gwaine wouldn't know shame if it slapped him in the bearded face.
That and the fact that they are clearly in love with each other. Honestly, it's so obvious, He's surprised they aren't together yet. It's not like any of the other knights would care.
Arthur lies up against a tree, shivering slightly in his sleep despite his cloak, yet too proud to admit it and move closer to the fire. Merlin doesn't think he's actually so much asleep as refusing to admit he's awake. Probably best to hold off on any magic for now.
And then there's Leon, he's-
Wait, actually, where is the first knight?
He feels something drape around his shoulders and he almost screams. Would have screamed, if not for the fact that his mouth and brain seemed to have lost connection around the same time frost started forming on his eyelashes.
"Hey- whoa! Merlin, it's just me" a familiar voice whispers from behind him and he realises it's Leon's cape now wrapped around his shoulders
"Oh, sorry", he rubs his neck, "just a little jumpy, I guess. You know what they say about cold weather..." Merlin trails off losing the thread of his sentence to numbed lips as he pulls the red fabric tighter around himself.
"No, actually I dont" Leon laughs under his breath because he's polite like that, dumping an armful of miraculously dry firewood onto the embers. So that's why he was gone, it must have taken him hours to find logs not dampened or frozen all the way through.
He takes up the flint, cupping his hands to stoke a flame. The sparks light up his face from the darkness of the winter night, and for a second, Merlin swears his lips and fingers are blue.
Before he can voice any concern, Leon's moved again, sliding Arthur's body away from the frosted tree trunk and closer to the now blazing fire with the practised ease of a man who's done this many times before. He decidedly doesn't look at Arthur's eyes as they flit partially open, choosing not to shatter the illusion that the King had been in deep slumber the whole time. Merlin thinks, distantly, that this is very kind of him. Allowing Arthur his pride while taking care of him just the same as the rest of the knights
The thought of the first knight being cold without his own cloak dances on the warlocks mind, but the fire is warm and he's far too tired. He'll make sure to thank Leon in the morning.
It's only later that he finds out Leon stayed awake all night long to tend the fire, ensuring warmth for all his friends.