The Thought That Counts

Fandom: Merlin (BBC)
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, mentions of character death
Summary: Merlin keeps up the traditions of Ealdor, even if he no longer has a reason to go back there.
Disclaimer: I own nothing in connection with BBC's Merlin nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

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The Thought That Counts</u>

It didn't strike Arthur until late into the evening of the Yule celebration that Merlin had never actually been present during one until now. Since going to Ealdor during their troubles with Kanen, Arthur had always allowed Merlin to go back and see his mother during that time of year. As a gesture of good will more than anything, which seemed to be a major point of the entire celebration.

But this year the winter had been too harsh and her health had become too bad. A few weeks ago, Merlin received word of Hunith passing away so he had stayed in Camelot, having no reason or real want to go back to Ealdor now that he had nobody there.

Merlin remained quiet and subdued at the Yule feast, only really coming into Arthur's view when he stepped forward to refill his cup. Arthur had spotted Merlin a few other times in the background, often with Gaius or Gwen resting their hand upon his shoulder. Arthur supposed they were asking him if he was okay. Each time Merlin gave a small, fake smile, nodded and slipped away to somewhere else in the hall.

At around the time Arthur realised this was the first year Merlin had spent Yule in Camelot, he also realised he hadn't seen him for a while. The celebration was beginning to wind down, so Arthur slipped out of the hall and went to search for Merlin. Checking that his manservant was okay would probably count as his gesture of goodwill for the year.

It wasn't long before he did find Merlin. He was on the battlements, leaning forward with his elbows on the merlons, and twirled something in his fingers.

"Hey," Arthur called to get Merlin's attention as he approached. He could feel the buzz of ale in his head but it wasn't anything which would make him say or do something too stupid. Merlin looked up and acknowledged Arthur with the same small, false smile he had been giving everybody. Arthur stepped up beside Merlin and mirrored him, leaning forward with his elbows on the merlons. "What're you holding?"

"Oh." Merlin held up what he was twirling in his fingers just long enough for Arthur to see before he drew it back down again. It looked like a flower, except Arthur was fairly sure it actually wasn't.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Just a flower," Merlin shrugged. "I can make them out of scraps of cloth. Will's mother showed me how to years ago, when I was a kid, so I could make them as a gift for mine. Yule in Ealdor isn't like it is here. We just give each other small presents. It's all we can afford, really."

There was a vague memory in Arthur's head of seeing a small pile of odd-looking flowers in Hunith's home. He hadn't questioned them at all because there had been more important things to worry about. Arthur felt himself smile but it dropped when he suddenly remembered that Merlin's reason for making the flowers was gone. It made worry clench at his stomach.

"Why did you make that one?"

"I made one for Gwen," Merlin said. "And gave her another for Morgana. I made one for Gaius too. It's stupid, but they're the only thing I know how to make. When Will lost his parents," he went on and Arthur let him, "I always used to make one for him as well. So that he'd at least have something. He always used to tease me about it. Because, you know, why would men give each other flowers? But he always kept them."

Merlin's voice started to fail him so he had to stop. He hung his head, staring down at the small scrap-cloth flower between his fingers.

"I kind of made this one for you," he admitted, quietly and nervously. "I was just on a roll, I guess. But you don't have to take it." He started to draw the flower against his chest.

"No," Arthur frowned and stopped the movement of Merlin's hands by reaching out, resting his palm over the flower. Their eyes met and Arthur knew they were both thinking the same thing. The Crowned Prince of Camelot accepting a small flower made of scrap cloth from his manservant. The concept was odd and absurd.

"Look," Arthur curled his fingers to take the little flower away from Merlin's hands. He dropped the small gift down his shirt and patted at where it rested. Near his heart. "I'll keep it here, okay? Then nobody needs to know."

When Merlin smiled it was still small but genuine this time. "Thanks."

"I didn't get anything for you though," Arthur said, leaning back onto his elbows.

"You came to find me," Merlin reminded him.

END</i>