Sir Leon of Camelot was a Knight (as was probably apparent by the name). A Knight that had lasted an extraordinarily long time (the profession should include the word dead in the title). Most Knights were dead before they reached their fifth year. He was well into his eleventh.

He lived in Camelot (also obvious for the name) and protected its monarchy.

Not that they protected him particularly well.

Sir Leon had apparently suffered a multitude of horrendous and painful deaths. And still come back to Camelot. Every time he 'died' he was left alone by the Prince and the other Knights to make his own way back, despite the likelihood that he would soon awaken. It was very irritating and quite boring (who was he going to talk to? The trees? The birds? No, the walk got more boring each time he did it. He was starting to lose his sanity – last time he'd actually talked to himself for half of the ways back. Soon he'd be talking to no one at all)

The eleventh time that Sir Leon came home (fell into a river and washed away by the tide. It had been a week long journey back) he discovered a bet that had been going on since his sixth 'death' (that one had involved yet another battle and a horse that had been frightened by a fishing rod). Only this time the King himself had become involved. He wasn't sure whether to be flattered that they all thought he would live or annoyed that they counted on him 'dying' again.

It was really very strange. In a Kingdom that condemned magic, a Knight that couldn't die was known to live. And the King knew (in fact, the King was betting on him). If the ordinary people of Camelot had known they would have been rather puzzled, having seen evidence of their monarch's attitude towards all things magical, most of them in the form of their friends and family being burned alive. They probably would have called him hypocritical.

Luckily the public had no awareness of the number of times their beloved Sir Leon had 'died'.

One time he'd 'died' he'd seen an odd thing (actually he'd seen a variety of odd things; people didn't care what they did in front of a 'dead' man). The Prince's manservant, Merlin – cheeky, insolent but undeniably witty, shouting in a strange and guttural language. At a dragon.

The sight was almost enough the kill Leon then and there.

He'd wondered – if he 'killed' himself then would he stay dead. Or would he stay alive? (because really the impending heart attack was all Merlin's fault)

The dragon had halted in midair and bowed before the servant who called it by name (wasn't that part of a Christmas story?) and ordered it to leave the Kingdom or else be killed.

And the dragon (a giant, man-eating dragon who breathed fire and was a dragon) listened to the fragile looking boy was apparently wasn't as fragile as he appeared. It would seem the boy had magic. Or was a Dragon Lord. Considering the last Dragon Lord had died only yesterday, Leon would put his money on the former (he would only be half right).

If Merlin, of all people, could command dragons what was the Lady Morgana or anyone else capable of?

(Sir Leon would later look back on those thoughts and laugh. Morgana was capable of far more than she seemed.)

The dragon, it seemed, would no longer be bothering Camelot (it was flying away. After listening to Merlin. Who had magic. The world had gone mad.). 'That was nice,' was Leon's last though before he fainted.

When he awoke he found he'd been left alone in the field with a collection of dead Knights and horses (and a distinct lack of dead dragons). Again.

This really was annoying.

And for the thirty second time, Leon made the solitary journey home, thanking the Lord that this time he was relatively close to the citadel and not in a neighbouring (or distant) Kingdom.

At least he now had something to think about on his long travels (he really got to tour the world, didn't he?) – What else was Merlin capable of?