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If Arthur had to choose a favorite holiday, it would be Yule. It came at the most miserable time of year, when training had to be moved indoors and the time one could spend outside, apart from a few winter hunts, was limited. He would never tell anyone, but Arthur loved to inhale the clear air, lightly scented with iron, grass, and leather, that he could smell in the training yard during all other seasons. He loved to show off in front of Merlin there. He could order Merlin to attend as they practiced inside during the winter months, but it just wasn't the same.
If that wasn't enough, there were fewer missions and patrols in the height of winter because it was the time of year everyone in the kingdom hunkered down and stopped doing most interesting things. Winter was a time for respite and survival, and it drove Arthur insane.
Yule’s twelve days came in the thick of winter, and included the shortest day of the year. It always came at the very time of year Arthur thought he was about to go crazy. And every year, it made things so much better.
The feast was one of the best for any holiday. But it wasn't just that.
It was the candles lighting Camelot’s dark shadows, the clean smell of the evergreen wreaths in the halls. It was how it promised that the days approaching would be a return to light and normality, where Arthur could do the things he liked most.
Well, most of the things he liked most. There were some relatively new activities that involved his court sorcerer and fiancé, that like was not a strong enough word for, and they could happen any time of year.
Alright, he hadn’t fully proposed to Merlin yet. He had mentioned he was planning it after they survived being captured by Agravaine and Morgana, and Merlin, being the annoying idiot that he was, had insisted on accepting then and there, despite Arthur's completely reasonable protests that he wanted to put together an actual proposal.
That proposal would come during the festival of Ostara, in the spring—Merlin’s favorite season.
Arthur awoke the first day of Yule to the feeling of gentle fingers running over his back. It felt wonderful. But as it brought him to wakefulness, he noticed that he was starving and light was coming through the window. At .his normal wake up time; there was never light coming through the window this time of year.
“Mmmm, what are you doing? How late?” he asked the man he loved.
“Enjoying myself,” came Merlin's reply, “And letting you sleep in.” One of his exploratory hands moved to run fingers through Arthur's hair. Arthur could feel himself melting at the gentle touches. Merlin scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm around him as he pressed his chest to Arthur's back.
“I would go get us a very late breakfast — I should go get us a very late breakfast,” Merlin continued. “But that would involve stopping.”
Arthur knew that most of the events and speeches took place on the second day of Yule, on the actual solstice. Technically, they had time, but his stomach was protesting.
“So you decided that you would starve us so you could keep touching me?” His words were slightly slurred with sleep.
“Yes, that about sums it up. Only I would like to point out I am not actually starving you, as we are about to embark on twelve days of feasts.”
“Have I mentioned you are horrible at being a servant, despite your insistence on still being one until we marry?”
“Once or twice, yeah.” Merlin's warm breath brushed the back of Arthur's neck.
Arthur snorted. “And how long do you intend for us to lie in bed?” He moved an arm to caress the one Merlin had wrapped around him, fingers stroking the back of Merlin's hand.
“Until you get cranky from lack of food, or we have to start getting ready for the first night of feasting. Or until I get bored, which I don't think is going to happen, but I figured I would mention it just in case.”
It turned out the prospect of food finally lured Arthur away from Merlin's touch. But not for long; the moment they were both done eating, he tackled Merlin to the bed, and they spent most of the lazy afternoon relaxing and enjoying each other.
At long last, it was time to get ready for the first night of Yule. As Merlin handed Arthur his doublet, he asked quietly, “So are we doing what we did last year?”
Last year, they had not been together, but had still somehow managed to get into a contest in giving gifts to each other.
Of course, Arthur had had access to many more resources to draw gifts from, but he had been restrained by what was an appropriate gift to give a servant. Merlin, Arthur now suspected, had used magic to get some of his gifts, but he had needed to keep such things subtle enough not to arouse suspicion.
This year, there was nothing holding them back. Arthur intended to take full advantage of that.
“Absolutely,” he looked over his shoulder and grinned. “I hope you planned, because I did.”
“Oh, I’ve planned alright,” Merlin grinned back at him.
“Good,” Arthur kissed the back of Merlin's neck and then turned him to kiss his lips. “How embarrassing for you if I show you up.”
“There is no chance,” Merlin told him. “You just try.”
The first day of Yule was just a relaxing feast. While the charred remains of last year's yule log were thrown into the fire along with a new log meant to burn all 12 nights, there was no other formal aspect. It was a day when even a king had no duties, and traditionally, the duties of others were minimized well. Which meant the feast was much more relaxed than grand, so as to give the kitchen servants (the only ones working that day) the least amount of work. Most foods had been made the day before and were warmed up before being served. There were also fewer people at the table in the banquet hall; many would have gone to other, smaller parties, hosted by family or friends. Nobles often hosted their own gatherings that night.
However, it left enough people; Gwen was here with Lancelot, and many of the other, newer knights were as well. Gaius was in attendance, but the rest of the council had decided to spend the night elsewhere.
As Arthur tucked into the meat dishes covered with dried herbs and spices, and the various pickled vegetables and bread with jams, he spent a long and enjoyable time with those he cared about most.
Toward the end of the night, people started to drift away to their beds, and Arthur cornered Merlin with his present as they went back to their rooms. He had hidden it in an alcove just for this occasion.
“My first present is here.” He pulled Merlin to a stop.
Merlin turned to look at him with a hint of a smile on his face, that smile turned into a small O, and his eyes widened as Arthur whisked the silk cloth off the circlet he was holding.
“This is your court sorcerer’s circlet.” Arthur presented a band of silver ornately engraved with stars and dragons. It would fit Merlin's head and light up his hair like the night sky.
“Until it becomes your consort circlet,” Arthur continued, “These gaps are so we can add stars coming out of it. Make it a crown, not just a circlet.” Arthur added, running his fingers over the carefully disguised gaps on the top of the band.
Merlin took the crown from him with reverent hands.
“You only have to wear it on formal occasions,” Arthur told him. He knew how much Merlin was attached to his usual outfit. “But you need something to wear, something proper during those. Instead of your usual” — He gestured vaguely to Merlin — “This. We can’t have you embarrassing the crown.”
A moment later, he scolded himself. Alright, this was a bit uncomfortable, and his instinct had been to be to make up for it, but there were times to do that and times not to. He needed to do better.
Merlin looked up at him with slightly wet eyes that said quite clearly he saw through Arthur. But that still wasn’t enough.
“It will look handsome on you. Very handsome,” Arthur tried again.
Merlin’s face instantly brightened with the most beautiful smile. The kind that lit up an entire room, not to mention Arthur's entire heart and soul. It was obvious he loved the gift, but apparently, Arthur pushing through his discomfort to compliment Merlin in this moment had earned him this smile as well.
“Thank you.” Merlin’s voice was rough with emotion as he held the circlet. Slowly, as if testing it, he reached up and set it on his head.
As Arthur had suspected, the silver contrasted perfectly with his black hair. Merlin walked the rest of the way to their chambers quickly, with Arthur following, opened the door, and moved over to the mirror. His head tilted to the side, not in one of his sassy jerks or expressions, but, inspecting himself.
His night-blue eyes were apprehensive, almost confused, then they slowly grew more certain.
“It fits me. I never thought…” Merlin trailed off. “But it does.” Carefully, he reached up, removed the crown, and opened the cupboard in Arthur's chambers that was now his, placing the crown inside beside his typical clothing.
Then he grabbed a tiny wrapped object from deep within the cupboard, presenting it to Arthur with dancing eyes.
Arthur raised a brow and carefully unwrapped a small ring. The ring itself was silver, and the stone set in it was black. It was not a kind of stone he had ever seen in any jewelry before. He looked up at Merlin and raised a brow.
“Black tourmaline,” Merlin told him. “It helps power the enchantment.”
“Enchantment?” Arthur asked. From the look in Merlin's eyes, this could be anything.
“The strongest protection I could muster,” Merlin told him. “It will dispel the negative magic of any other object you might wear. We don’t want a repeat of the troll.”
Now Arthur knew why Merlin's eyes were dancing, and despite Merlin’s teasing, he knew the troll was not the only time a magical object had been used to harm his father. One had led to his death; Merlin likely had not mentioned that because he either did not want to remember or did not want to remind Arthur. A magical object had also been used to harm Arthur, and Arthur was sure Merlin could remember this as well, just as he was sure Merlin did not want to think about that particular incident.
“Of course, it would stop you from ever casting any magic that would harm someone while you wear it, but as you don’t have magic, that shouldn’t be a problem. It should also ward off many curses,” Merlin added. “Or at the very least weaken their hold. I’ve put powerful magic into the enchantment.”
Arthur slipped the ring on his finger. He didn't feel any different, but he trusted Merlin. This stone was a living embodiment of Merlin's care and protection. He would treasure it not just for what it could do, but for what it represented. He had the urge to propose immediately, but managed to restrain himself.
“This is the part where you say thank you,” Merlin told him with a wicked grin as Arthur looked up. “You go on and on about how I am an ill-mannered peasant, but you’ve not even said thank you.” He tsked and shook his head.
Arthur responded by tackling Merlin to their bed. He did not intend to thank him in words.
The many bonfires in Camelot's courtyard were surrounded by drinks and food on all sides. Unlike the day before, the cooks had gone all out with time, the best they possibly could in the winter months. Celebrations would take place not inside the banquet hall, but outside around the fires. The night would be full of dancing and stories. Arthur was determined to enjoy it.
He had already presented Merlin with a gift, a new coat made with the inside of the warmest furs money could buy. Merlin had given him his. An enchanted saddle for Henrogen that would make anything she carried on her back feel lighter and let her go faster. Arthur wasn't sure who would like it more, himself or his horse.
As Arthur watched people dance around the fires and gather by the food and drink, he realised he should give the traditional speech. He approached the slightly raised platform intended for this purpose. He was the only one who knew his speech this time would be anything but conventional.
When he commanded his people's attention, he could feel all of Camelot turn to look at him. This would be his second year giving the speech. He was more comfortable giving it than he had been when he had been regent in all but name, and yet more nervous about what he had planned. He had yet again been tempted to add a proposal, but refrained.
“Tonight is the longest night of the year, and the night we celebrate getting through the darkest of times and into days that will bring back the light.” Arthur began. “Camelot is very different now than it was when I last gave my midwinter speech. I have returned magic to the kingdom. I know many of you must have been apprehensive when I did, especially after the actions of my sister. However, you have accepted my decision, and I believe you can see that Camelot is better off for it. I am not done making changes. I want to build a kingdom that is above all fair and just. As we enter the spring, if you witness an injustice, please come to me. I cannot promise to solve everything right away, but everyone deserves to be heard and their problems considered. This includes those of common birth. I believe the idea that nobles are superior has been disproven by the works of my commoner knights and the work of the two new commoners on my council, Guinevere and Merlin.”
Arthur inclined his head to indicate that he had finished the speech, and stepped down off the platform he had given it on. He could already hear whispering and knew many of his council would not be happy with him inviting anyone to come to him with any problem, including commoners. It was part of why he had done it without asking. With such a thing announced in front of everyone on as special a day as this, they could hardly try to make him go back on his word.
Merlin ambled up to him, pride and approval in his eyes. “I will admit I did not see that coming. I should have seen that coming with everything we’ve talked about, us and Gwen, but I did not..”
Arthur slung an arm around his shoulders. “Good, I would hate to be predictable."
“You’re doing a good job at this king business,” Merlin told him happily as he wrapped an arm around Arthur in return.
Merlin's reassurance meant more to Arthur than he could say. So he said nothing, and enjoyed the rest of the night.
The third day of Yule meant the first true feast of the holiday, along with a tradition that had been introduced by Arthur's father. During the day, the people were encouraged to bring gifts for their king. They were often small things, sometimes fruits of their occupations. During the feast itself, they were all piled up around a throne. Not the actual throne, and not where the king would actually sit, either during the feast or before socialization.
No, the throne was more symbolic.
The whole thing had made more sense in the logic of a man who had conquered Camelot. It was a show to any nobles attending the feast that the king had the support of his people. Of course, the gifts the king decided to actually use were checked before he used them. Not that there had ever been a problem with any of them.
Arthur had thought it a bit tasteless and suggested retiring the tradition, only to have Gwen argue that they should keep it. With all the changes Arthur was making to Camelot, showing he had the support of the people was still important, she argued, and Arthur had admitted she was right.
He was still shocked when he saw the massive pile of gifts; it was larger than any pile he could remember from his father's reign. Larger by far.
“They seem to approve of you.” Gwen came up to him as she saw him staring. The feast would start shortly, but there was time to talk beforehand.
Arthur tried to muster a reply. He was still in shock at such an obvious show of approval from his people. “It seems they do,” he finally said.
Merlin had come up on his other side now. It was a moment before he spoke, so long that Arthur turned to look at him and saw the pride in his eyes before he spoke. “It seems they don’t know how much of a prat you can be.”
Arthur was grateful to Merlin for lightening the moment, giving him a distraction to use to compose himself before the hall filled with people, and he had to act like a king.
“Please, Merlin, if anything, this is proof of what I’ve been saying for years. I am not a prat,”
As Gwen shook her head, smiling and wandered off to find Lancelot, Merlin eagerly engaged. “No, it's proof they have never had to be your servant.”
“Plenty of those gifts come from people who act as servants in Camelot; they seem to have no issue with how I act.” Arthur pointed out.
Merlin grinned in triumph. “Yes, but none of them have been your servant; they don’t get to see the true you. I am the only one able to judge here. And I say you're a prat.”
Arthur shook his head. “No, you see, Merlin, you calling me a prat despite this clear evidence of my benevolence simply proves what I’ve been telling you for years. You are an idiot.”
Happily bickering, they settled in for the feast.
As the feast finished and the time came for socializing, Arthur circled the room, making the expected kingly conversation before departing to Merlin's side near the gift pile.
To his amusement, he could see that sometime during the feast, wine must have spilled on Merlin's jacket, and Merlin didn't even seem to realize it yet. Arthur would wait for the right moment to tell him.
“So, have you given up on the gift contest and finally admitted I am the inevitable winner?” Arthur prodded.
“Not at all.” Merlin reached into one of his coat pockets and placed a small wrapped parcel on a nearby table.
Arthur carefully unwrapped it, taking note that some people, including Gaius, Alice, and most of the knights and nobles, had returned to their own quarters now; that was expected. It was getting late.
Arthur lifted the parcel and opened it to find a small lump of what appeared to be beeswax. He looked up to Merlin and raised a brow.
“It will suck up any ink you put it on,” Merlin explained. “A nice enchantment.”
And instantly Arthur understood. With all the paperwork he had to do as king, he did occasionally make mistakes and had to start over if he didn’t want people to see an ink blot. Sometimes, he got frustrated or impatient and just kept going, but he always felt bad about it. This was a godsend.
He shot a smile at Merlin, in thanks, and then walked over to a wreath where he had hidden a balm-filled glass jar, grabbed it, and returned to Merlin.
“This is a healing balm. I brought the best herbs from exotic lands and had Gaius and Alice enchant it with their healing powers. With how clumsy you are, I figured you could use it.”
Arthur knew Merlin was bad at healing magic. He also knew Merlin made a fuss any time Arthur noticed anything other than a catastrophic injury, and suggested that Merlin go to Gaius to have it healed. This would be a quiet way for Merlin to take care of his own injuries without the fuss he seemed to hate. It was a perfect gift, if Arthur did say so himself.
Merlin grabbed the jar, and his eyes shone with appreciation. Then, a mischievous look crept onto his face, and he looked up at Arthur. “You know I’m not sure this counts, seeing as Gaius and Alice made it.”
That was ridiculous, quite frankly, and they both knew it. None of their gifts had been made entirely by their own labor.
Rather than indulge Merlin, Arthur turned and grabbed a jacket from the pile near the throne. It was a longer one than Merlin’s style and more made to fit someone like Arthur, but it would do.
“Fine, I’ll give you another to make up for it. Off with the wine-stained jacket. You get this. See how generous I am? That's two presents for you.”
Merlin looked as though he was debating if he should argue, then looked down, saw the wine stain, and decided against it.
“You mean you are giving me another present to make up for giving me a gift you didn’t make?” he asked.
“No, I am being a generous king,” Arthur told him, “And indulging you in your misconceived attempt to argue that the fact I didn’t make it entirely means anything.”
Grinning, Arthur helped Merlin remove his wine-stained jacket and held out the new one. Merlin made a show of rolling his eyes, but put it on.
He didn't look bad in a longer coat, Arthur thought, but he did look a bit ridiculous in a jacket that was clearly for someone with a larger frame.
Arthur smiled triumphantly. “There we are. Better.”
Merlin shook his head, “It's made for…” Abruptly, he trailed off, blue eyes going wide. “Morgana’s magic — I sense —”
He stopped talking and quickly tried to pull off the coat, starting with one sleeve.
Only the coat did not let him. To Arthur's absolute horror, the collar started constricting around Merlin’s neck, constricting fast.
“No!” Arthur lunged forward, trying to hook his finger around the tightening collar. He was not fast enough. The fabric bunched up, squeezing tight.
Merlin's hands joined his, yanking at the fabric. He let out a strangled choking sound, and then an expression of fear came over his face. The frantic fear of someone who could not get the air they needed to breathe.
Merlin's eyes flickered gold for a moment; not the sustained gold of a casting spell, but the mere flickering of someone who was trying to summon magic but could not. The fear on his face was replaced with terror.
They both tore at the coat that was now strangling Merlin, but their attempts did nothing. As Arthur watched and tried to free the man he loved, Merlin's face turned red, and then, all too soon after, his legs gave out abruptly.
Arthur caught him, lowering him to the ground. “Hold on. We’ll get it off!” he told Merlin.
Merlin's expression shifted from one of pure terror to a look of realization, then to one of horrible resignation.
“No! We’ll get it off!” Merlin clearly thought he was going to die here. That could not happen. Arthur tore at the bunched-up fabric that was as good as a garrote. This was all his fault. He had offered Merlin a coat that had not been checked.
Merlin lifted a shaking hand to Arthur's cheek as his face started to turn purple. His lips formed the words “I love you.” He was saying goodbye.
“We’ll get it off.” Arthur's voice broke.
Merlin's eyes rolled back into his head, his hand flopping limp to the ground.
Arthur tore at the deadly twisting cloth. “No!”
Another pair of hands joined his. “It's too tight!” Lancelot's voice rang out.
Merlin lay limp on the ground now, oblivious to the efforts to save his life. His face was turning blue. Arthur turned to Lancelot and ordered, “Get Gaius!”
He should have sent someone before. Why didn’t he send someone before? As Lancelot ran, Arthur’s eyes flashed over his belt knife. Arthur had one of those, too!
Arthur pulled the knife from his belt faster than he had in his life, angling it to slide under the cloth. But it wouldn't budge, the cloth was too tight! He switched tactics quickly and cut at the fabric from another angle.
This worked, but as his knife cut through the jacket, more cloth rushed up to replace it. Arthur realized the coat would keep going, trying to replace anything he freed from around Merlin's neck.
He shifted his focus, cutting just below the fabric of the collar, so the magic would have a limited amount of fabric to work with, and yanked the rest of the coat off Merlin's limp body, throwing it aside.
Then he went back to cutting away at the cloth that was constricting around Merlin's neck, working as fast as he could, and throwing scraps of fabric aside.
Finally, finally the spell ran out of material to work with. Arthur yanked the last bit of cloth from Merlin's neck and grabbed him by the shoulders. “Merlin? Merlin, I got it off! Merlin!”
Even as Arthur shook him, informing him that he was now free, his mind absorbed the reality of the situation.
Merlin lay limp on the ground, both his face and lips were blue, there was horrific bruising around his throat where the cloth had been, and his chest was perfectly still.
He was no longer even attempting to breathe.
Sheer panic swamped Arthur's mind. “No… Merlin…” He rubbed Merlin’s chest desperately, trying to stimulate his lungs into some sort of action.
It didn’t work.
Arthur sat Merlin up in his arms and slammed the heel of his hand between Merlin's shoulder blades, trying to trigger some response. “Hey, hey! Merlin, you need to breathe. That's an order!”
But Merlin did not breathe.
He slammed his hand into Merlin's back again. Still nothing. Merlin was limp but for Arthur's strikes. Where was Gaius?
He slammed Merlin’s back so hard that he was scared he would break him, desperate for a sign of life. “Merlin! You need to breathe! Merlin!”
He tried again and again until suddenly, miraculously, Merlin took a high-pitched squeaky-sounding breath, almost like a whistle.
Arthur pulled Merlin into his arms, supporting his head with one hand as he cradled his body close with the other. He vaguely became aware of a crowd around them. “He started breathing!” Arthur told them in a strained voice. His own words made the change real for him. Merlin was breathing, Merlin was alive, Merlin was breathing. But the whistling sounds continued. Merlin was breathing, but was not breathing well! His chest did not rise fully. His face was not regaining much color.
“Gaius will be here soon. Hold on,” Arthur urged desperately as Merlin remained unconscious in his arms.
Someone pushed the glass jar of balm against his leg. Arthur opened it, dipping two fingers in and applying the mixture to Merlin's bruised neck. As he did so, the bruises changed color and faded slightly. And then suddenly, with an odd sound, part of Merlin's throat rose, and his breathing changed. Instead of the horrible squeaking, Merlin started quickly taking deep breaths of air.
There were no words for the relief that filled Arthur. He pulled Merlin tighter against himself, pressing his lips into his black hair. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I didn't check… thank you for coming back.” Arthur kissed Merlin's head again and again as he rocked him.
Merlin's face was starting to lose its blue color as he took deep, full breaths of air. Arthur moved a hand to stroke his cheek, watching intently, waiting. “Open your eyes… wake up. I’m sorry, I love you, wake up.” He kept his voice soft so that just Merlin would be able to hear, not the crowd of people around them.
“Let me through!” Arthur heard Gaius cry out. And for the first time, Arthur looked up away from Merlin. Gaius’s face, as he knelt next to them, was grave. Alice was just behind him.
Alice murmured a few words, casting a healing spell as Gaius’s skilled hands moved over Merlin's neck, assessing the damage. “You used the healing balm then? It worked better than I would have expected. Lancelot told us what happened. And the crowd was vocal about the rest as we made our way through. It sounded like his throat had been crushed. But it's not anymore.”
“I think he should be alright,” Alice continued, voice soft and reassuring as she talked to Arthur. “I’ve helped heal any damage that was left. The worst was from being without air for too long, and there was some remaining trauma to his windpipe I took care of. Gaius is right in what he has told me before; Merlin does recover remarkably well.”
Arthur nodded and looked back down at Merlin, willing him to wake as he rocked his limp body. Color had returned to Merlin's face fully now. But Arthur needed him to wake, needed to see his blue eyes. Needed to know he was still there.
“When will he—”
Just as he spoke, Merlin's beautiful, night-blue eyes flickered open. For a moment, he looked slightly dazed. Then his entire body tensed, and his eyes widened. One of his hands flew to his neck.
“Merlin?” Arthur’s voice filled with fear.
Merlin's eyes flicked to Arthur's own, and his body relaxed. His hand moved away from his neck, and Arthur realized his reaction had just been a response to the last thing Merlin remembered. It was not a sign of more horrible dangers Gaius and Alice had not expected.
“You're alright,” Arthur told him, “You’re awake, you’re alright. I got it off you. I didn’t know it would… but I never should have…” He was rambling now, in front of who knew how many people. Arthur grew quiet and held Merlin close. There was no way to be a strong, authoritative king when he was clutching Merlin to himself like this, but Arthur had no intention of letting go.
So he gave up on being a strong, authoritative king for now and just held Merlin close, listening to the miracle of his breathing, marveling as Merlin wrapped an arm around him in return. Merlin was alive. Arthur’s stupidity had not killed him.
Painfully aware he was about to say the most sappy thing he had ever said in his life — in front of a crowd, no less — Arthur forced the words out. “You win the contest. There is no gift I could give you that could compare to you being alive.”
He shifted Merlin so he could see his face better and could see Merlin's eyes widen slightly. Then, slowly, a smile formed on Merlin's face. He reached a hand up to cup Arthur's cheek and told him in a raspy voice. “Just as I planned.”
Arthur shook his head, feeling himself start to smile. Only Merlin. “Are you joking about your own near-death experience?” He no longer cared about the crowd around him. Merlin was being his usual self.
“Who’s… joking.” Merlin told him. “Planned… this all…. to win.”
Arthur snorted, still holding Merlin close. “Well, next time you come up with a scheme to win something, can you leave out the nearly dying part?”
A mock, thoughtful look came to Merlin's face, and he told Arthur seriously, “I’ll… take it into consideration.”
Arthur laughed and clutched Merlin even tighter. “You’re such an idiot. I’m so sorry.”
“Forgive you… would forgive you for much more,” Merlin told him.
Arthur did not deserve this man.
“But… this means… you have to forgive me… next time… I’m an idiot.” Merlin added. His hand lowered from Arthur's face, now instead resting beside him.
“Fine. I will agree to that, just this once,” Arthur told him as he caressed his cheek.
“Good… I’m going to save it for a time I’m really stupid,” Merlin told him, a hint of a smile still on his face.
Arthur shook his head. “Fine. I will forgive you next time you decide to be really stupid and remind me of this. Don’t try to push it further.”
“Good… I’m tired…”
Arthur looked to Gaius quickly, who nodded his head. “He should get some rest.”
Arthur smoothed Merlin's hair as his eyes closed and his breathing slowed to the slow inhales and exhales of a deep sleep.
Arthur looked up to see the crowd of faces surrounding them for the first time. He stood up, carrying Merlin in his arms. “I am done for tonight. No one is to touch the pile of gifts.”
All the eyes he met were understanding—some too understanding. Arthur took Merlin to their chambers and slept next to him as he did every night. But this time, he appreciated each sleepy breath all the more.
The rest of Yule, as it turned out, was uneventful. Well, besides Merlin being outraged that Arthur let him sleep through the next night of the celebration, and making a point to convince Lancelot to wake him up the following day if Arthur did not.
Other than that, the rest of Yule was quiet.
Yule was still Arthur's favorite holiday; he wouldn't let what happened ruin that. But, while he and Merlin would still give each other gifts next year, Arthur knew it couldn’t be a contest any longer. Merlin now had the advantage, and Arthur just knew that he would use it. He would win the contest by turning up before Arthur with the most smug grin on his face, spreading his arms, and reminding him of those words about him being alive Arthur had let slip out.
Alright, perhaps Arthur should make it a contest again next year, because Merlin would look adorable doing that. Well, he had a year to decide if that was worth losing for.