Title: Curiously Golden
Author: Georgiana (pairofweirdos)
Summary: The first snowfall of Arthur's reign as king of Camelot causes confusion in one respect, but perfect clarity in another.
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 887
Disclaimer: This is all fiction, I do not own 'Merlin' (Alas) or wish to cause offence to anyone.
Author's note: This is my first LJ post; que nervous smiling on my part. Hi! Thank you for looking at this, whether you happened upon it accidentally or because you know me from tumblr. I sincerely appreciate it. If you notice any grammatical errors please point them out to me, it irritates me when I read other fics and so I would like to avoid them in my own, if at all possible! Thanks for "taking a chance on a unknown kid" ;)

 Arthur surveyed the picturesque snow scene with meagre expression. It was the first snowfall of his reign as king and frankly, he had no idea how to behave. He knew the councilors certainly would not approve if he went careering off around the castle with the knights, throwing snowballs as care freely as he would’ve had no scruple doing only a few months ago. Something about appropriate ‘kingly behaviour’. He was still mulling over this when a gleeful laugh broke the relative silence and bounded across the courtyard, warming Arthur’s heart with it’s familiarity. Seconds later, the man it belonged to hurtled along after it, still giggling at himself as his legs dangerously skated across the thin layer of ice that coated the ground. The tips of Merlin’s ears were pink, and his cheeks flushed with the exercise. Arthur grinned, and strode over to meet him. 


 “Arthur!” Merlin beamed, and half ran, half tripped towards his friend. At the last moment he slipped, arms windmilling wildly before Arthur stretched out his own to catch him, and suddenly they were nose to nose, so close Arthur could have counted every individual snowflake that laced Merlin's lashes. He was laughing in a way that anyone else probably would have found deeply unattractive, snorting and panting almost uncontrollably but Arthur thought it wonderfully endearing, sweet in a manner that was uniquely, unequivocally Merlin. He stopped when he realized Arthur hadn’t joined him in his (very loudly expressed) merriment, blinking before staggering back out of Arthur’s firm grasp to find his footing once more. 


 “Idiot,” Arthur shook his head, “Are you alright? Not going to trip over your massive feet again?”. 


 “Prat.” Merlin replied, somewhat absently. Arthur began to feel a little suspicious, as clasping both hands behind his back seemed to convey more professional respectability that his manservant was usually apt to. He realized what Merlin must’ve been doing quite a bit too late, actually, and his subconscious shook a wry head at him as Arthur reached up to hurriedly brush the remnants of Merlin’s surprisingly well-aimed snowball from his hair. Merlin snickered wickedly at the kings uncharacteristically slow-reactions before sprinting unsteadily off in the opposite direction. Councillors entirely forgotten in favour of revenge, Arthur chased after him, swearing so loudly he would have undoubtedly have earned some startled looks from passersby, had not everyone been sensibly wrapped up indoors by their own warm hearths. Arthur drew near him in an amount of time that Merlin ought to have been embarrassed by, had he any sense of competitive pride whatsoever and tackled him to the floor, laughing hysterically. After a while they sat up, backs leaning against the stone steps behind them, Arthur so obliviously happy that at first he didn’t notice his companion’s close to violent shivering. 


 “We’d better go inside. I supposed you don’t deserve to actually freeze to death, however consistently cold my baths are.” He strained to keep all shades of reluctance out of his voice.


 “No! No, let’s not. I’m fine, honestly. I can bear a bit of cold because I’m not, in fact, a girl, despite your many insistences to the contrary. Besides, it’s much nicer outside.”.

 Arthur snorted in disbelief, but stayed where he was, pressing their bodies closer together and finding that the layers of clothing muffled the sensation of Merlin’s against his own frustratingly well.
They sat in companionable silence, Arthur reveling in being alone, just the two of them, in a situation that wasn’t his chambers for the first time in an unhappily long while. He glanced over at his friend, whose eyes looked curiously golden in the morning sunlight, the blissful serenity of his face warming Arthur’s whole being. The urge to touch him was insuppressible and so he reached out under the pretense of sweeping away some remaining snow that was melting down Merlin’s neck. His fingertips lingered from longer that was strictly necessary but it didn’t appear to be noticed, whether thankfully or provokingly Arthur couldn’t be sure.

 He had been ‘glancing’ at his manservant from quite some time now, he noticed rather belatedly, as Merlin turned and met his gaze. Arthur’s throat contracted as he focused on Merlin’s lips, chapped from the cold but still impossibly kissable. His breath hitched. Their faces were mere inches away now, breath mingling in a way that was deliciously, fatally intimate and made Arthur feel strangely light headed. Something in Merlin’s expression seized him and his hand was moving, tangling it’s fingers around a curl of hair that rested on the nape of Merlin’s neck. It was reckless, stupid and not at all private but Arthur found it very hard to care as he pressed his lips to Merlin’s, not considering that the consequences may not be worth even that moment of euphoric selfishness.

 Later, much later, as an older, wiser Arthur sat on the very same steps of that very same courtyard, he knew that they would. He knew that he had always known that they would be worth it because whatever the price, he would always give it up to see Merlin smile as he had after that first kiss.

fin