Title: In Camelot
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Merlin
Rating: G
Disclaimer: The TV show, Merlin, does not belong to me. Nor does the musical, Camelot. I mean no disrespect or infringement upon either.
Summary: It's snowing in Camelot. Merlin thinks it's beautiful. Arthur is less thrilled.
Notes: Written as a snow drabble (ficlet) on my snow day on February 17, 2015.
In Camelot
Merlin stood at the window, watching the first snowfall of the season. The light dusting of flurries settled upon Camelot.
“Merlin!”
He turned to see Arthur standing at the dressing station. “Did you somehow forget what you're doing here?” Merlin hesitated. “My shirt?”
“Right.” Merlin crossed the room and helped Arthur dress warmly.
“What were you staring at out there anyway?” Arthur asked as Merlin buckled his belt for him.
“It's snowing out.”
Arthur groaned. Only Arthur could complain about this.
“You should go look,” Merlin said, gesturing toward the window. “The way snow falls on everything makes the whole kingdom look so...” magical. Magical was the word he wanted to use, but he couldn't use that word in front of Arthur Pendragon. “Beautiful,” he finished. Arthur did not look enchanted.
“Beautiful?” Arthur repeated. “You would say that.”
“Why?”
Arthur strode to his table for breakfast. “Because you're a woman, Merlin. Now, where's my breakfast?”
*
“Is it still snowing?”
Merlin tore himself away from the window in Arthur's bedroom and walked over to the table with the tray of breakfast. “Yes, it is.” Camelot's first snowfall had lasted three days already, and it didn't look like it would let up any time soon.
Arthur groaned. “I was supposed to be training my knights this morning.”
Merlin turned so Arthur wouldn't see his expression of amusement. “And you can't do that in the snow?”
Devouring the end of his bread, Arthur shrugged. “Not easily.”
“Because your knights will only have perfect weather when they're fighting to protect Camelot?”
Arthur gave Merlin a look and stabbed a sausage. “I hate the snow,” he grumbled.
*
Two weeks. Two weeks of snow. And the only person who seemed happy about it was Merlin, though he had learned to hide that fact from Arthur if he wanted to escape without the headache smacks to the back of his head caused.
The sound of coughing drew Merlin away from Arthur's bedroom window.
“Still sdowidg?” Arthur threw the covers off himself and started shifting toward the edge of the bed.
Merlin hurried over and pulled the covers back up. “I'm not sure you want to know.”
Arthur groaned and laid his head back against one of his pillows. “That's a yes. I... huhh-PTSxxshhh!” He tried to get up again, moving toward the nightstand where a handkerchief sat.
Noticing, guessing, Merlin snatched up the handkerchief and handed it to Arthur. “Bless you.”
After blowing his nose, Arthur seemed exhausted by this simple action. So when Arthur tried again to get up and push down his blankets, Merlin took hold of them and held them in place. Arthur pushed. Merlin held tight. And, in the end, Arthur's strength failed him. Frustrated, he flopped back again against his pillows. “Berlid...”
“You're never going to get over this cold if you don't rest. Besides, the citadel is snowed-in. There's nowhere for you to go. So you'd better stay in bed.” Merlin tucked the covers warmly around Arthur. “Giaus sent a mixture to add to your tea that will help your throat. You stay right here and I'll bring it to you.”
Reluctantly and with his arms crossed over his chest, Arthur sighed. “Fi... fide... huhhhh...” Arthur cupped the handkerchief to his face, snapping forward. “huhh-UHPtchhhh! Huhhh-Ehptchuhhh!” He rubbed his nose thoroughly. “Add what about these?”
“Hmm?” Merlin stirred the medicinal herbs into the tea.
“By sdeezes,” Arthur said, accepting the tea. Though he made a face at the taste, he kept drinking. He drained the cup and shoved it back at Merlin. “Will that helb get rid of the sdeezes too?”
Merlin smiled at him sympathetically. “I don't think so.”
Yet again, Arthur groaned. “Whed I'b kidg, it wod't sdow id Cabelot 'til Deceber add there will be a legal libit.”
“A legal limit to the snow?”
Arthur nodded but didn't stop there. “Add dode of this slush, odly the bowdery stuff that's easy to clear away. Add it wod't be allowed to raid udtil the dight.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “And I suppose by eight in the morning the morning fog will have disappeared?”
Arthur stabbed his pointer finger in Merlin's direction. “That's good. Add... add subber... suh... huhhh-UHPTSchhhhhh!” He rolled onto his side, snuffling into the handkerchief. “The subber...”
Reaching over, Merlin rubbed Arthur's shoulder through the blanket. “The summer will linger through September, but it won't be too hot of course.”
Arthur nodded wearily. His body relaxed.
Merlin sat down on the side of the bed, leaning against the headboard. He continued to rub Arthur's arm, and Arthur continued to drift back to sleep, which is what he truly needed to feel better. Merlin whispered after him, “When you're king, the climate in Camelot will be perfect. I'll make sure of it, Arthur.”