#pendragon reader

A Sir Leon x Princess! Reader Series - Ongoing

Summary: The youngest Pendragon is too smart mouthed for her father, too kindhearted for court, and far too interested in the Captain of the Guard. In other words, what if Camelot had a Princess? One who finds herself in a whirlwind romance that changes the course of her life forever.

This work is a Sir Leon x afab reader. She is nameless & without description besides that she has long hair. No use of y/n.

Warnings: Will eventually include some canon typical violence, and brief mention(s) of parental death. Currently SFW however, that may change in the future.

Chapter One: Escaping the Palace

Chapter Two: A New Friend

Chapter Three: Summer Heat

Things That Bloom

Sir Leon x fem! reader

Summary: The reader finds solace from life at court by working in her beloved garden. She almost never has visitors. At least, not usually.

Word Count: 2,129

previous

series masterlist 

Warnings: Brief mention of parental death.

Author's note: Wow! I apologize for how long it took me to get this story on paper. I struggled with writers block for some time, and I'm currently completing my grad program which has been taking up a lot of my energy. That being said, this is another continuation of my Sir Leon x princess! reader series. I plan to make this story more coherent in future, but for now I hope you enjoy this sweet interaction between the two. The princess' mother is mentioned briefly however, my intention is for this story to be as inclusive as possible so it is not specified whether the princess shares a mother with Arthur or if Uther remarried in this universe. That distinction is up to you. Happy reading!

-Lera 4/29/26

The sun hung swollen and lazy overhead, the afternoon stretching long across the castle walls. Hidden below the shade of an ancient oak tree, the princess sat elbow deep in the soil carefully replanting a lilac bush, her matching skirts pooling gracefully around her. Not many outside the royal family, the kingsguard, and the servants knew about this hidden oasis. Tucked between the western wings, the garden was a beautiful escape from the expectations that came with having royal blood. In her childhood, the garden was her and Morgana’s favorite place to play. They would spend hours hidden away in the flowers, imagining they were going on wild adventures in faraway lands. Sometimes they were even able to convince Arthur to join in, usually having him play the part of a fierce dragon, or a noble knight. But as the years went by, and the three children grew up, only the princess continued to visit. 

In recent years she’d taken over this potion of the garden for herself, asking the gardeners to leave it to her tending alone. Whenever she was able, the young woman would steal away to care for her flowers and enjoy the quiet solitude and fresh air. Days like today were her favorite. When she didn’t have any etiquette lessons to attend, or servants asking her opinions on decorations for upcoming galas. Days when she could be completely herself, with only her plants to keep her company and her thoughts to occupy her mind. 

The Princess hand poured soil around the delicate root system with all the grace and gentility afforded by the privileges of her station. She smoothly wiped her brow as she carefully tapped the remaining loose earth, a muddy smudge marring her cheek in the aftermath. 

Soft footsteps from behind alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Even before she turned, she could feel his presence. A shift in the air that caused goosebumps to cover her skin.

“You know–” She started without looking back. A shy smile creeping across her features. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” She slowly shifted to face him. Her grin fully evident as she rested her hands on her cotton skirts, staining the lavender with the soil she had just been tamping into the earth. Before her, Sir Leon stood tall. A look of surprise painting his handsome face. 

“My apologies Princess.” His voice nearly faltered. “It was not my intention to sneak.” 

The young woman couldn’t help but notice soft blush coloring his cheeks. ‘Surely it’s only from the heat.’ She internally chided herself for daring to think it could be in response to her.

“I was unaware the garden was occupied.” He carefully bowed his head, golden curls gently falling into stormy eyes. “I will take my leave and disturb you no further.”

“You didn’t!” She interrupted, possibly a little too eagerly. “Disturb me that is.” A sheepish look crossed her face. “You’re welcome to stay if you like. It’s no bother to me.” She finished. ‘Congratulations, now you’re holding the poor man hostage! Surely he must think you unstable.’ Her thoughts berated her. “That is unless you’re busy, of course.” 

“No.” He smiled back at her. “I’ve actually found myself with a bit of free time today. Arthur’s training some new novitiate knights, most of whom have never held a sword before so your brother’s putting them through all the basic trainings. He’s given me some time to myself before I’m due back to assist with duelling.” His gaze dropped to the lilac that she had been planting. “It’s beautiful. Did you plant all of these?” Leon asked, taking in the lush greenery surrounding them. 

“Only the ones in this corner.” She answered. “I try to tend to them as often as I can, and I’d like to add more but it seems there’s never enough time for it.” 

“I think it’s perfect as it is.” The knight nodded with admiration. “You’ve done a lovely job, Princess.” The young woman felt her face flush at his words. 

“Thank you Sir Leon, I appreciate the sentiment. Although you should take care not to inflate my ego too much.” A giggle escaped the girl’s lips. 

“I sincerely doubt your humility would allow for it.” Sir Leon smiled back. “Since I’m unoccupied at the moment, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Well if you’re offering, I suppose I wouldn’t mind some help with the weeding.” She smiled shyly. “But only if you’re careful not to dirty your uniform! I wouldn’t want to incur Merlin’s wrath if he has to scrub out any stains.” Leon huffed out a laugh.

“This cloak has certainly seen worse than a little dirt, Princess. But if it eases your mind.” He reached to unfasten the buckle at his neck that held his scarlet knight’s cape secure around his broad shoulders. Carefully, he shrugged it off and folded it a few times before draping it across an oak branch. “There.” He knelt down to meet her on the clovered ground. “Now it is in no danger, and you’re free to put me to work.” He grinned, shining blue eyes meeting her own. She quickly glanced away, smiling instead at her lap. Visions of another response to that invitation clouding her mind. ‘Stop! He’s only being gentlemanly and you are a lady of gentle birth.’ She scolded herself, brushing away any thoughts of impropriety. 

This turned out to be a simple prospect since Sir Leon was such an easy companion to pass the time with. While the princess might have expected herself to feel stiff or uncomfortable, being so used to the plants being her only company in this place, she was surprised to find that the two seemed to fall into an easy back and forth. 

“Now this one I do know.” Leon nodded towards a tall cluster of deep purple flowers as he carefully pulled a butter yellow dandelion from the soil. His brow furrowed upon further examination. “At least I should, it practically covered the grounds at my family’s estate.” He considered another moment, his mouth pursing in concentration. “Dogsfoot?” He finally answered. 

The princess let out a bubbling laugh. “Dogsfoot?” She giggled. “Is that your final answer?” 

“I take it from your reaction that I’m incorrect in my identification.” He smiled, this time the blush across his cheeks and nose, undeniable.

“You’re actually not far off, it’s foxglove.” The princess answered with a grin. 

“See, I knew it had to be shoe or foot something.” His gaze returned to the task at hand. “It was my mother who was the botanist in our family. My father always said it was an unsuitable hobby for a lady.” He broke off abruptly, eyes wide with apology. “Not, of course, that I share that belief, Princess.” 

She smiled understandably. 

“I take no offense. Please.” She gently rested a hand on his arm. “I’d like to hear more about her.” 

“Well she would have loved this place.” He told her, glancing around at the vibrant florals surrounding the pair. “Her favorite flowers were bluebells. In spring, she’d fill every room with vases full of them.” He dipped his head solemnly. “When I think of her, even now, I can smell those flowers as surely as I did when I was a boy.” 

The princess’ chest tightened with sympathy. She had known that Sir Leon’s mother had passed before he’d had the chance to grow into a man, but she had never heard him speak of her before. Carefully, she took his hands into her own smaller ones. To her surprise, he held them firmly, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of her wrist.

“She must have been an extraordinary woman.” She said with sincerity. “I’m sure you miss her very much.” 

“I do.” He met her with a soft gaze. His blue eyes shining with unshed tears. “But you know that feeling as well as I do, Princess.” The girl’s eyes dropped to her lap. Although her own mother had died soon after giving birth to her, she felt guilty comparing the two losses as she’d never had the chance to know her mother. To love and understand her the way that Sir Leon had. Her loss, she felt, was insignificant next to his. 

Always the gentleman, Sir Leon quickly pulled the conversation away from thoughts too distressing for the princess. 

“I speak the truth, Princess.” He squeezed her hands with a careful strength. “If my mother had been able to see what you’ve done here she would be most impressed.” A bright smile lit up his handsome features, pulling a similar one from the young woman.

“I wish I’d been able to meet her.” She answered. “I’m sure there’s so much I might have learned from her.” Sir Leon’s eyes softened, tracing over her delicate features.

“I know one thing for certain, Princess. If you had met, she would have absolutely adored you.” He told her in earnest. 

Before she could even begin to form a response to such high praise, she was distracted by a high pitched buzzing near her face. She pulled in a sharp gasp, as what she was almost certain was a wasp, burrowed itself into the front of her hair.

“Don’t worry it’s only a bee, Princess.” Sir Leon leaned forward, only a fraction closer than he was before, but she could feel the space between them shrinking just as clearly as she could feel the movements of the poor creature that had become caught in her locks. “Hold very still and it won’t hurt you.” 

With a practiced steadiness, the knight leaned in even closer. His hand cautiously reached up to brush the insect away, gently grazing the side of her cheek as he did so. 

“There.” He nodded. “All gone.” But he did not move away. Instead, he turned his hand, agonizingly, painfully slowly, to gently cup the princess’ face. His thumb lightly stroked her cheek, the way it had her wrist just minutes before, causing her to be devoid of all speech. Her lips dropped slightly open, but no words came to follow. Any thoughts of decorum were banished to the far reaches of her mind as she covered his hand with her own, leaning further into his tender touch. 

Without meaning, her eyes dipped down to his mouth, primrose pink and gently parted. His face tilted ever so slightly closer, and glancing up the princess saw that his own gaze was fixed on her mouth. As if drawn by gravity, she leaned her chin almost imperceptibly towards the knight’s own. But before she could draw any closer, the clamorous clanging of the bell tower rang through the garden, interrupting the heated moment.

The pair practically leaped apart, the princess sheepishly brushing her skirts in an attempt to disperse her embarrassment, and Sir Leon looking anywhere but at her. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence between them.

“Erm,” He stammered as he got to his feet. “That’ll be the top of the hour. I’m afraid I’m needed back at the training grounds.”

“Of course you are!” She fumbled slightly as she stood, a smile threatening to break through at the thought of what had almost happened. “Tell Arthur I said hello!” She winced at the request. ‘Can you at least try to be normal?’ She berated herself. ‘When have you ever sent along good wishes for Arthur?’ Sir Leon, mercifully, ignored the strange request, dropping into a low bow. 

“Thank you again, Princess, for allowing me the pleasure of your company.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Sir Leon.” She said instead, resisting the urge to take his hands one more time. “Oh!” She turned suddenly, reaching up into the branches above her. “You might need this.” She gingerly handed him his cape, just as neatly folded as it was when he’d hung it there in the first place.

“Yes.” He let out a dry laugh. “I guess I might.” Upon taking it, their hands brushed again, causing the princess’ fingers to tingle with electricity, and her mind to go blank once more. Draping the cloak over his broad shoulders, he was instantly his serious self once more. But she couldn’t help but notice a hint of a smile pulling just slightly at the corner of his mouth. “Will I see you at dinner tonight, Princess?”

“Of course you will.” She smiled. Briefly, he bowed his head once more.

Escaping the Palace

Sir Leon x fem! reader

Summary: The reader tires of her meaningless expectations and duties as Princess of Camelot. Her father's continuous disappointment and her brother, Arthur's endless boasting drive her to indulge her adventurous side. This is an ongoing series.

Word Count: 2,734

next

series masterlist 

Authors note: It’s certainly been a while since the writing bug has visited me. Merlin has always had a place in my heart and Sir Leon is a long standing crush of mine. I hope you enjoy this short story. Sending you all love and well wishes in the new year.

-Lera 1/10/25

*Revised as of 5/26/26*

The princess had just about heard enough of her father’s dreary remarks on trade relations and her brother’s training. How it was coming along ‘just marvelously’ and ‘how he was more and more proud of the man he was becoming each day’. Well, maybe that last part was a bit of a stretch. Surely Uther would never be able to state such a thing out loud to his eldest child. But the sentiment was clear as crystal for everyone at the table, except of course Arthur who, ever confident in front of everyone but their father, failed to grasp what wasn’t spelled out right in front of him.

“Tomorrow I want you to join me in the village.” Uther took a long sip of his wine before continuing. “I’d like for you to come with me to meet with the blacksmith to see about some new equipment for the knights.”

“My Lord,” Morgana tilted her perfect, milky face in confusion. “You never see about those things personally, why now?” 

“Leave it to you to question the king.” Arthur retorted with a sneer.

“And-“ Uther continued as if he hadn’t heard either of them. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to have some new armor made. Tourney season is only a few months away and I intend for Camelot’s Prince to continue his reign as champion. There can be no mistakes made, especially in your gear.”

It wasn’t uncommon for the princess to exchange a knowing look with Morgana from across the table. Although the two were not sisters by blood they almost always knew just what the other was thinking. As Morgana’s striking emerald eyes met her own, it was obvious they both knew that Arthur would be over the moon.

Arthur nodded his blond head earnestly. 

“Of course father.” She tried not to laugh. He always tried to be so stoic in front of their father but a hint of a smile still appeared at the corner of his mouth. “I look forward to it.” 

“Father, might I be able to come too?” She piped up before she could stop herself. “I promise I won’t get in the way, but it could be fun to get out of the palace.” Uther was shaking his head before she could finish. 

“Absolutely not.” His eyes were hard and unwavering. “It’s no place for a princess.”

“Besides, you'd find it terribly dull.” Arthur added.

“I wouldn’t! I’d love to do something different, it wouldn’t matter what it was.” She argued back, heat beginning to flush across her cheeks.

“Please, you couldn’t stand missing your 4 hour bath.”

“That’s not-”

“Enough!” Uther slammed his goblet down. “My dove, your place is here and that’s final. Now, can we please finish our dinner in peace?”

“Of course Father.” Said Arthur.

“Yes Father.” The princess begrudgingly returned her gaze to her plate. 

Once all bickering was finished, the evening passed by uneventfully and the princess found herself wishing she was anywhere else as her maid, Gwen, readied her for bed. She was dressed in a satin nightgown, trimmed with lace that graced the floor as she walked. Her hair was washed with rose oils and set in curls to be unfurled in the morning. Any woman in the kingdom would all but kill to be in her place. Yet she still wanted more.

After bidding her goodnights to Gwen she set to work. She wouldn’t be obedient. She wouldn’t be the perfect princess, it was all too hard an image to maintain. The endless rules and expectations she could never hope to summit weighed on her daily. Princesses were supposed to be quiet, demure, agreeable, and polite. Yet she had been cursed with a voracity for life that could not be tempered, and tongue that could not be held. She wanted to be without restriction. To be as wild as she wished. To be beyond what she could imagine within the palace walls.

The castle was quiet at night. Only a few hallways were lit and guards were stationed only every so often. And since the young woman knew it all like the back of her hand, it wasn’t too difficult for her to find herself in the laundry rooms. Finding a simple frock in a plain brown, rather than the jewel tones she was accustomed to wearing, was easy enough. ‘I’ll return it in the morning.’ She told herself. Finding her way out of the castle walls and into the night was even easier. Their current state of peace in the kingdom made the castle guards more inclined to a drink or two, making it all too easy for the princess to slip past them unnoticed. 

The streets of Camelot were alive with lights and laughter. The castle’s early night had no impact on the townspeople, who were only just beginning their evening. The princess did her best to hide her telltale curls beneath her veil, afraid of being recognized. But the city paid her no attention. Women laughed and smiled as they skipped down the cobblestoned streets in groups. She saw a couple sneak a kiss under an archway, her cheeks flared in embarrassment, or was it envy? Either way everyone seemed to be making their way to a brightly lit tavern down the way. Lively music flowed from the doors and windows and she found herself itching to dance, a smile covering her face.

The inside of the tavern was almost achingly hot, the warmth of the fire reaching every corner of the room. The seemingly endless number of people didn’t help, bodies pressed firmly against one another as everyone tried their best to reach the bar. The princess was nearly knocked to the floor as a boisterous man and his partner shoved past her, yelling for another round.

“Miss, are you alright?” A tall stranger reached out his hand, pulling her back to her feet. 

“Yes, quite, all thanks to you.” She blushed even harder. It was undeniable the man was handsome. Sharp features framing deep eyes, his dark locks accentuating smooth, marble skin, it was hard not to lose one’s breath. His look was only of concern.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you here before Miss-”

“Mirabel.” She swiftly lied. “And no, it’s my first time. I’m not usually one to be out this late.”

“Well Miss Mirabel.” The handsome stranger grinned. “I would be most honored to buy you a drink this evening. After all, it’s not every night I’m blessed to escort a lady such as yourself.” The princess was overwhelmed. Usually the men she met were too intimidated by her title to offer her such chivalry.

“That would be lovely, Sir-” She paused with a flirty grin.

“Florian.” He swiftly kissed her hand. 

“Sir Florian.” She smiled. ‘Keep it together, you’re only here for the night.” She told herself. “I would absolutely love a drink”

“Right away Miss Mirabel.” He turned away with a flourish, the crowd seemingly parting around him. The princess pushed her way through the almost endless number of people to find an empty table to sit at. The patrons seemed to be dancing on air, their spirits as light as the ale they drank. She couldn't help but be influenced by their joy, a giddy grin taking over her face even before Florian had returned with two dangerously full mugs.

“These aren’t too strong are they?” She asked, taking a cautious sip. Florian just laughed. “Of course not, as long as you have a tolerance. Don’t you?” He asked pointedly with an unmistakably wicked grin.

“Oh of course.” The princess lied. She’d never had more than a glass or two of wine at state dinners. “This should be nothing.” She took a large gulp of the bitter liquid, expertly masking her disgust. The ale burned her stomach, but made her head spin in an irresistible way. She wanted more. Before she knew it she’d polished off her glass and was asking for another, and Florian was all too obliging.

Soon she was spinning under the candlelight without a care in the world. Florian’s arm strong around her waist. His sultry voice whispering sweet nothings in her ear. And the Princess was too high in the clouds to care much what he said. Only that he was seemingly kind, handsome, and paying for her night of freedom. She hardly noticed when his fingers began to dig harder into her arms, red marks making their way onto her skin. Only when his lips pressed firmly against her collarbone did she speak up.

“If you would excuse me, I think I need a moment.” Her head spun. She’d never been touched like this. And although her understanding was that women generally enjoyed this kind of attention, she wasn’t all too sure that she did. Florian was a handsome man, and seemingly kind. But his touch made her feel guilty, almost sick to her stomach. She knew she had to get away.

“What, so soon?”  His strong hand gripped her wrist tightly. “Darling, the night’s just beginning?”

“I do apologize.” She feigned a smile. “I just need a moment’s rest. I’ll be back before you know I’ve gone.” She lied, keeping her eyes on the door. The hand on her wrist tightened painfully.

“I’m sorry my dear, I’m afraid I just don’t believe you.” He smirked, his eyes sharpening. The princess cursed herself internally. ‘This is why Father never lets you leave, this is why Arthur never brings you on his adventures.’ She scolded herself as Florian began to pull her towards the door. Unlike her brother, she had never been trained in combat. Which was becoming increasingly clear as her attempts to kick and pull away gave her no advantage to the much larger assailant. Just as she was about to be dragged out the door, someone stepped into their path. 

“Excuse me, but I believe the lady has no interest in going with you.” The princess would have recognized him anywhere. Deep golden curls, perfectly sculpted cheekbones, that devastatingly stern look in his ice blue eyes. 

“Sir Leon?” She gasped. Florian only tightened his grip.

“Apologies, but I don’t believe you’ve any idea what the lady does or doesn’t want. Now if you’ll excuse us-” Florian was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m afraid it wasn’t a suggestion.” Leon responded with a stoney glare, his other hand now settled firmly on the gilded hilt of his sword. The princess' heart stopped. Surely he didn’t mean to draw it? Her nausea worsened at the thought of Sir Leon needlessly engaging in combat due to her inability to control herself. Thankfully it was unnecessary. She let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding as Florian’s grip vanished and he melted back into the crowd as seamlessly as he’d first appeared. Her relief didn’t last long however, as Sir Leon lowered his gaze to meet hers. “Princess” He all but whispered. “Are you unhurt?” 

“Yes, I- I’m alright.” She answered, all too aware of Sir Leon’s large hand that now gently gripped her elbow. She couldn’t tell if it was the ale or his touch that sent heat radiating through her body, her cheeks most certainly flushed, her pulse fast and unsteady. She only hoped he wasn’t picking up on these tells as he glanced over her, confirming that she was, in fact, safe. 

“Then I would be amiss if I didn’t tell you how completely reckless this was.” The princess shrunk a bit at his stern look. “What were you thinking? And coming here, of all places? Anything could have happened to you.”

“I just-” She struggled to find her words. “I’ve never seen the city, and everyone’s always so careful around me at court. I wanted to see what it would be like if I weren’t royalty, if I didn’t have to be so proper all the time.” His gaze softened as he let out a deep breath . 

“I’m just relieved you’re unharmed.” He held out his arm for her to take, always the gentleman. “I should take you home.”

The cold air bit at the princess’ cheeks as they walked silently down the now empty street. She tried not to stumble too much but she was finding it difficult to hide her state of inebriation. Being so uninhibited she couldn’t help but peer up at Sir Leon’s handsome features. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t noticed him before. Sir Leon had been practically raised at court, Arthur and him were almost inseparable for much of their youth. But somewhere upon his entry into the kingsguard the princess hadn’t been able to ignore just how attractive he’d become. How noble, and chivalrous. Something she’d whispered to Morgana about on more than one occasion, but she’d never been so close to him before. She’d never been so close to any man save her father and brother once she thought of it, save for- the memory of Florian’s painful grip digging into her waist flashed back into her mind. Suddenly embarrassment simmered in her chest. How ridiculous that Sir Leon was having to end his night early because of her careless stupidity. When she spoke she felt as though she’d rather have crawled under a rock than be imposing on him in such a way.

“Sir Leon, I must apologize.” Her feet halted as her words hung in the air. Confusion clouded his face.

“Whatever for, Princess?” She took a breath before answering.

“For ruining your night! I’m sure you were having a perfectly pleasant evening before having to rescue me. And now for having to leave early because I don’t know how to look after myself.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. A hint of a smile tugged at the edge of Leon’s mouth.

“Your apology is unnecessary. Truthfully, I’d been playing cards and was about to lose an awful lot of money before I noticed your predicament.” The princess couldn’t help but laugh. “So really it was you who saved me.” His smile now beaming across his features as he continued leading them closer to the castle. “But still. Your apology is accepted.” She breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Well good, I wouldn’t be able to bear it if you were upset with me Sir Knight!” She giggled as she took in their surroundings. “This isn’t the main entrance?” 

“I don’t imagine you want the whole court learning of your adventure do you?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. The princess blushed. She didn’t even want to begin to imagine her father’s reaction if he were to hear about this. Let alone what exaggerations the staff might whisper amongst themselves.

“I suppose not.” She stopped as they reached an archway that she knew led straight to the kitchens. “Thank you, Sir Leon. For saving me, and for the company after.” She smiled up at him.

“You are most welcome, Princess.” He smiled back. 

Of course he wasn’t letting her wander the castle halls alone at night. While the castle was well guarded, Leon was all too aware of how dangerous characters could make their way past their defenses, and he wasn’t taking any chances with the princess’s safety. They moved silently through the empty halls, Leon making sure to avoid any active patrols, and before she knew it they were approaching the door to her quarters. 

“This is where I bid you goodnight, Princess.” Leon spoke softly, his golden eyelashes nearly obscuring his cerulean eyes. The young woman couldn’t bring herself to break his gaze. Her heart began to pound again as she noticed his gently parted lips, how his skin glowed under the candlelight. ‘How soft his lips must feel.’ She wondered absentmindedly. For a moment she thought she saw his pulse pounding beneath the alabaster skin just below his jaw. ‘Does he feel this heat as well?’ The question slammed into her without warning. And before she could be stopped by her clearer judgement that the ale had banished to the back of her mind, she found herself on tiptoes, pressing a gentle kiss against his stubbled cheek. Maybe it was the lowlight, but she could have sworn she saw warmth flush his cheeks.