Chapter Text
Predictably, all the snow melted before Christmas day proper. Merlin and Will stood out on the back porch of Merlin’s mum’s house, squinting at the frozen gray-brown of the backyard. Will was half-heartedly pretending to smoke the cigarette propped between his two fingers.
“So, all you had to do was self-actualize?” Will asked. “That’s a trip.”
“I suppose you could put it that way?” Merlin said, squinting at the pale sky. “God, that’s lame, isn’t it?”
“Eh, pretty lame,” Will said. He stomped out the cigarette under his shoe. “You think the smell will be in my clothes?”
“Yeah,” Merlin said, wrinkling his nose. “You reek, don’t worry. Why can’t you just tell your mum you quit smoking? The charade is pretty ridiculous.”
“Speak for yourself,” Will said emphatically, shivering as he pulled his unbuttoned winter coat around himself. “You know how my mum is about my achievements. You remember when I passed eighth year maths, second time around?”
“She threw a party,” Merlin remembered fondly. “We got tipsy on wine coolers on the roof after, and you fell and broke your arm. We were such idiots.”
“Were? We're still idiots,” Will said. He perked up a bit. “You hear that?”
Merlin listened hard. “Hear what?”
“Coming up the drive,” Will said, turning toward the sliding back door. “That’s car. Don’t those hooligans have anything better to do on Christmas day?”
“Be trapped inside with their families,” Merlin said, hurrying after Will as he pulled the door open and rushed through the house toward the front door, “Will, please don’t make a scene, it’ll be worse…”
“It’s a waste of good eggs, Merlin!” Will declared, blowing through the living room in a whirl of torn up wrapping paper. Hunith and Mary both looked up from the tea they’d been having.
“What is going on?” Mary demanded, half standing from the couch. “William!”
But William was already out the front door and down the front steps, shaking his fist like an old man guarding his lawn from the neighborhood kids. He lowered it as Merlin came up behind him, panting.
“I don’t think the Johnson boys drive around in a BMW,” Will said faintly.
“No, usually just their mum’s minivan,” Merlin said.
The BMW parked behind Mary’s green SUV, and the driver’s side door opened, revealing Morgana. “Hey, all, Happy Christmas! I didn’t think we were going to get the greeting committee, as this was supposed to be a surprise. Well, partial surprise. Coordinated surprise.”
Ygraine, her hair tucked under a tied scarf, got out of the passenger side, waving. “Merlin! It’s lovely to see you. And this must be Will.”
“That’s the dead mum?” Will asked Merlin under his breath as he waved.
“Yes, Will, that’s the dead mum, now please exercise some decorum,” Merlin hissed at him.
“I am the picture of decorum,” Will said stoutly. The back door of the BMW opened. “Ah, and there’s the boyfriend.”
Arthur stepped out of the car and stretched before going around to unlatch the trunk and coming back up with an armful of colorful parcels. Elyan and Gwen climbed out of the car after him, Elyan promptly offering Ygraine his arm, and Gwen going around to help Arthur.
“Your life is so weird,” Will told him.
“Trust me, I am well aware.” Merlin said. He stepped forward to assist Gwen and Arthur with the boxes, tugging Arthur’s hat briefly over his eyes before partially relieving him of his burden.
“Terrible,” Arthur informed him comfortably. “I come for Christmas, and this is what I get?”
“You’ll be summarily rewarded later,” Merlin said. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I see I’ve become chopped liver,” Gwen said cheerfully, box propped under her arm. “Used to be I was the main event. Hi Hunith!” She lifted her free arm to wave at Hunith and Mary, who had migrated out of the house to see about all the fuss, and necessary introductions were made as everyone was bundled inside.
Thankfully, Will and Merlin had done a grocery run the day previous unsupervised so there were plenty of biscuits to go around, Hunith raiding a bottom cupboard in the kitchen for the remainder of her mismatched tea set.
“Nice to see you in person, finally, Arthur,” Hunith said fondly, patting Arthur on the cheek as he took a teacup from her. He flushed prettily, which just charmed Hunith more. “I like him,” she told Merlin in a stage whisper as she whisked by.
“I’ve always liked your mum,” Arthur informed Merlin, lingering in the kitchen before they followed to join the others in the living room. Voices rose and tumbled over each other. Hunith flicked on the radio to add the local radio station's Christmas carol extravaganza to the noise.
“I’m glad, I like her too,” Merlin said. He knocked Arthur’s hip with his. “Thank you for coming, by the way.”
Arthur pressed a kiss to Merlin’s temple, grinning. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Gwaine and Percy, for their part, had gone to Gwaine’s house for Christmas, as they usually did, although this time with the comedy of errors being that after successfully having convinced his family that Percy was not his boyfriend, they now refused to believe that this time, he actually was.
Leon had gone home to his family, as he always did.
Morgause hated Christmas and had ensconced herself alone in her house, while Mordred was embroiled in his own comedy of errors between two fathers who were in every aspect excepting caring about a currently sixteen-years-old juvenile delinquent, polar opposites.
Gaius celebrated as he usually did with his neighbor and her granddaughter, a lowkey celebration that involved Christmas crackers and hot coco and a rerun of some black and white Christmas special. Merlin would probably call him later tonight.
And everyone else was here.
Regarding the slightly more complicated details – what did you do with people who were supposed to be dead? – the Pendragon political machine finally did its due diligence, pulling the appropriate strings so all documentation stated that Elyan was a cousin with a very strong family resemblance, Mordred’s father was an obscure uncle that had been off on a very long holiday, and Ygraine was a professor of literature who had never been married.
Uther had orchestrated all this quietly, without complaint, after he and Arthur’s mother had spent a long time behind the closed doors of Uther’s study back at Camelot. He was not forgiven, perhaps, but he had resolved himself. And that wasn’t nothing.
Before they had gone their separate ways for the holidays, they had done their own small gift exchange. Merlin’s gift – being but a poor shop clerk – had been handmade collages for everyone, which were that much more endearing for being silly and a little too heartfelt.
Leon’s had been one of him at Arthur’s stove, making stir fry. Gwen and Morgana’s had been a shared piece, the two of them on Gwen’s couch, Gwen knitting, Morgana’s feet tossed up in her lap, the blue light of the tv washing over both of them. Percy’s and Gwaine’s had also been a shared piece – “You’ll have to fight over it,” Merlin had told them – of the two of them sparring, in full armor. Upon receiving it, Percy had begun to cry and Gwaine had relieved him of it before it got soggy, handing him a handful of Kleenex. Elyan’s was still in progress, as Merlin hadn’t known until a few days ago that he would be requiring one, and Arthur’s…well, Arthur’s had been given in private.
It was a view from above of Arthur’s bed, Arthur laying on his back, facing the viewer, Merlin curled up beside him. Split vertically, on one side of his body he was outfitted in his usual worn out plaid pajama pants and white t-shirt, on the other side, he wore armor, and a red cape, and a crown. Rather than a sword, in the hand outfitted in a gauntlet, he held the baseball bat that typically sat propped by his door.
On the back of this portrait, scrawled in the bottom corner in tiny letters, were these words “always arthur”.
“You did this with tiny bits of paper?” Arthur had asked, studying it.
“That’s the idea,” Merlin had said.
“This is the best gift you’ve ever given me.”
“I don’t think I was in the habit of giving you presents, before.”
“Even better,” Arthur said. “God, I’m shit at giving gifts, nothing is ever going match this.”
“Stupid, isn’t it?” Merlin asked. “It’s just sentiment. Don’t worry about it, I’d be happy with nothing.”
Arthur looked appalled. “I’m not going to give you nothing!”
Now, standing in Merlin’s childhood home, he admitted, “My gift is really my presence, so technically, I am giving you nothing.”
“It’s perfect, and I love it,” Merlin told him. “This is it, you know? What other people talk about? No matter what comes next, this is it. The happily ever after.”
Arthur laughed. “Now that’s sentiment. You’ve got kitsch for a heart, you know that? Tried to hide it, but I see what you are.”
Merlin rolled his eyes. “You caught me.” He lowered his voice as they passed into the living room together, “Just so you know, though, my mum is totally going to make you split the pull out sofa with Elyan.”