Here's a little Merlin one-shot, I've been obsessed with the show for forever but have never actually written anything... Should be interesting!

Merlin's eyelids slowly fluttered open as he searched the room. After a few moments, he willed himself out of bed and headed to the window to open the blinds. The room remained as dark as it had been before, no light coming in from the black of the night. Sighing to himself, Merlin started throwing on his jacket. It's still pitch black outside and he has to go work. Seems about right.

He stole through the castle, by now knowing better than to wake any of its sleeping occupants. He had learned that lesson the hard way one morning via tripping over a step and sending Arthur's armour rattling down the incredibly long steps. The entire castle had woken and the outcome was not pretty for Merlin.

This time, his transition to and from the armoury was silent and efficient. He scrubbed at the various stains on Arthur's chest plate (best not to let his mind wander) and carefully folded all of the shining chainmail away. Yawning widely, he made his way to the kitchens.

Only the quiet squeaking of mice accompanied him as he fetched the ham, cheese, and a selection of various different treats for the King. Glancing around mischievously, he sneakily tried a bit of cheese before picking up the platter, closing the door behind him with his foot.

The sun was slowly beginning to rise, ascending lazily above the horizon as the entire city began to stir. Merlin headed back to Gaius's chambers, preparing a simple breakfast for himself and the physician. He wolfed down his own modest portion before leaving Gaius's in a place he would surely find it before heading back up to Arthur's chambers, platter still in hand.

"Rise and shine!" He pulled apart the curtains cheerily, a yawn coming to his features as Arthur grumbled awake.

"Go away, Merlin. It's too early." He stuffed a pillow over his head.

"Tell me about it." Merlin mumbled dismissively, opening a window before being hit with a harsh gust of frozen wind and shutting it again quickly.

Snow began to gather on the windowsill as Arthur begrudgingly ate his breakfast, Merlin continuing to work around him. Finally, the king spoke up.

"You know you have the afternoon off, right?"

"Hmm?" A surprised manservant raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, it's customary for people to be with their families at Christmas." He explained.

Christmas.

Merlin had not realised today was the day, but it did mean he had a lot to prepare for later before he'd be free in the afternoon. The Christmas feast was an annual tradition amongst royalty and was renowned in Camelot for being one of immense grandeur. All of the festivities were prepared in the morning, with only the kitchen staff staying on in the afternoon to serve the attendees.

Merlin looked forward to it greatly.

No official serving robes of Camelot with ridiculous feather hat! No running around and pouring wine to snobs until late into the night and then having to do his duties and getting no sleep! With a new spring in his step, he carried the dirty bedsheets to the washroom and headed to the hall to prepare the tables with a surprisingly optimistic outlook on the entire situation.

After a few hours of shifting around tables and chairs and plates and cutlery, Merlin went to make his master lunch, aware of what that signalled. Soon he'd be free.

Merlin brought the plate to the throne room where he knew Arthur to be, only to be met with a worried Gwen standing outside the door.

"What's the matter?" Merlin's stomach dropped at the idea.

"A hostile patrol has been spotted far inland of Camelot's borders, which clearly breaks the treaty we have with the surrounding kingdoms. That's all I got before they kicked me out. But my guess is, they're probably trying to decide how many troops to dispatch to eliminate the threat." She finished the hushed explanation, as Merlin gave her an understanding nod and knocked on the door three times, pushing the handle down with his elbow.

"Sire." He bowed to Arthur in front of the council members, turning to leave while praying in his head. Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it, don't you dare say it...

"Merlin." The King's voice boomed through the empty chamber. Prepare the horses. We ride out within the hour."

Silently cursing the Gods, Merlin bowed again in Arthur's direction before retreating out of the room. Gwen read from his expression what he'd been tasked to do, and he gave her a weak smile before heading to the stables.

-_-_

The wind was harsh and unforgiving and, no matter how hard Merlin tried to wrap himself in his thin jacket, the snow and the cold still penetrated his skinny frame. As the Camelot patrol had departed, the weather only seemed to get worse and worse the further they went. There was no hope of communication in the whistling wind, and Merlin grumbled his frustrations continuously and freely into the surrounding white of the landscape. He had no idea how Arthur was sure of their direction. Merlin had a sword attached to his saddle, but very much doubted he'd be able to use of even if necessary due to the frost penetrating his fingers. The knights all seemed more or less unswayed by the weather, wrapped tightly in their thick cloaks and seeing the weather as more of a minor inconvenience.

In the storm, no one noticed Merlin muttering a few words and no one saw his eyes flash gold for just a second. His hands were, admittedly, warmer, but due to a lack of rest and food the action only drained his energy all the more. His horse seemed to be on the verge of giving up as well, stumbling every so often and treading heavier with every step.

A wave of relief flooded Merlin as the party entered a forest, the trees sheltering them from the brutal gusts and most of the snow getting caught in the overhead trees. Merlin relaxed ever so slightly, feeling his horse trot easier through the even forest path.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from the back of the group. The entire patrol wheeled around, only to hear another swish of an arrow as a second rider fell from his saddle.

"Everybody down!" Arthur commanded, pushing himself from the saddle while drawing his sword in one swift motion. Cursing silently, Merlin tried to imitate his master's actions which only resulted into a face-first plunge into the snowy ground. Before pushing himself up, Merlin first swept the trees to try and locate the threat. There were at least 20 soldiers hidden amongst the trees, though it was hard to accurately calculate their full numbers.

Springing up, Merlin was met face to face with a soldier who had separated from the group and was making him way towards an oblivious Arthur, who was busy fighting three men at once. Merlin successfully, and to his own surprise, countered three blows from his opponent before the sword slashed across his abdomen. Mumbling a few words more out of instinct than by choice when the man raised his sword again, a magically strong gust of wind swept him into the path of a Camelot knight who impaled the soldier before continuing his own fight.

With a savage cry, the entire group hidden behind the trees charged out to meet the patrol. Many red-clad men leapt on their horses and turned to flee, obviously noticing that they couldn't beat a group of such size. Buy there was no way Arthur was backing down. Merlin knew this. Summoning his last ounce of energy from where he sat, he aided the wind in knocking over a tree directly into the path of the horde. Pushing himself up and ignoring the agony it entailed, Merlin grabbed Arthur by the arm and sharply tugged in the direction of the horses.

"Arthur, let's go. There's too many of them!" He tried to shout into the king's ear, who only pulled his arm free before turning to face the multitude of soldiers advancing on them. There were many more than he had originally though. Too much. Arthur may have been brave but he wasn't suicidal.

It was his turn to urge Merlin in the direction of the horses, sword still in hand as he swing himself up onto the saddle. Merlin ran up to his own horse, somehow managing to climb on top before urging his horse forward. His senses were useful enough to tell him to duck as a stray arrows swished overhead, but that was all his body had the energy for before it sunk into sweet oblivion.

-_-_

Merlin came to slowly, faintly aware of his surroundings as he struggled to recognise where exactly he was. The walls were dark, the only source of light being from the cave entrance and Arthur's flint and steel. Wait, a cave? Arthur?

Merlin sat up sharply, hissing in pain as the sword wound protested. Arthur was at his side in an instant, standing above him and not quite knowing what to do.

"Merlin? What's wrong? Say something!"

"M-merry Ch-christmas my ass." Merlin uttered, shivering severely despite being out of the worst of the wind. He didn't speak again until Arthur started to take off his manservant's jacket.

"No." He protested, explaining apologetically. "Cold." Was all that came out. Nodding in understanding, Arthur rose to his feet.

"I'll go and get some more firewood." As he walked away deeper into the cave and out into the storm, Merlin made absolutely sure the king was out of earshot. A few hastily muttered words, and the twigs caught alight, causing the warlock to move closer to the heat. Arthur soon returned, a look of surprise on his face as he placed more logs on the flames.

"If you're so cold, why don't you put on some gloves?" He questioned thoughtfully, eyeing Merlin's frozen fingers.

"I've never really owned any gloves." The manservant admitted. "They were a luxury in Ealdor. Barely enough fabric for simple clothes. Sometimes we would use socks, but those were usually old and eaten by mice... Not much better than nothing." He finished, while his master thought about this for a moment before returning to Merlin's jacket.

"Come on, then." He removed the clothes around Merlin's stomach, viewing the wound thoughtfully.

"How bad is it?" Merlin's voice quivered slightly, only to get an annoying grin from the prat.

"Stop being such a girl's petticoat Merlin, you'll be absolutely fine!" He didn't really seemed convinced by that either, though. Cleaning out the blood as best as he could, Arthur ripped the bottom of his shirt to tie around his manservant.

"Don't-too late." Merlin sighed at the destroyed garment, knowing fully well who would be the one fixing it.

"You hungry?" Arthur opened the saddle bag he had brought with him, handing Merlin his own before starting on the dinner Merlin had packed for him. The warlock wolfed down his own portion quickly, eyeing Arthur's light bread.

"I don't really have much of an appetite." The king decided, preparing to throw the bundle into the fire.

"Wait!" Merlin stopped him, taking the parcel out of Arthur's fingers. The portion was fit for a king (literally), but Merlin was done with it in no time.

"Hungry?" Arthur grinned at him.

"Yeah... Didn't have lunch." The manservant explained through a mouthful of ham.

Arthur's expression turned into a frown.

"How come?"

"No time." Merlin shrugged simply, avoiding eye contact with Arthur. Neither spoke for a while, simply stating into the now roaring embers of the fire.

"Get some rest." Arthur rose up, squeezing Merlin's shoulder reassuring before moving away. The young warlock slipped easily into a deep sleep.

-_-_

"Rise and shine!"

Hmmmm, thought Merlin. That sounds familiar.

"Stop being a lazy prat, Merlin, get up!"

Grumbling, Merlin slowly opened his eyes in annoyance. Arthur was now stood at the cave entrance, preparing the horses while the sun reflected off the fallen snow outside.

Making a move to get up, Merlin felt something thick and heavy on himself. Arthur's cloak. What was that doing there? He rose unsteadily, carefully walking over to Arthur with the fabric clutched in his hands.

"Here." He offered it back to its owner, who simply shook his head decidedly.

"Keep it for the way back. It's still cold out there. Can you ride?" Merlin nodded unconvincingly, biting his lip as the bandage pulled when he slung himself up onto his horse.

-_-_

They encountered no more trouble on the way back to Camelot, save for the occasional stray bandit that Arthur handled quickly and effectively, with minimal aid from Merlin's powers (not that he knew, of course).

As they neared the city, Merlin dared to pipe up.

"So... can I have the afternoon off?" he asked hopefully, and Arthur only chuckled. Merlin hoped that that meant yes.

As soon as they were back through the gates of Camelot, Merlin made his way to Gaius's chambers where the physician redressed and re-cleaned the wound. Arthur went back to the council chambers to report to the members, deciding on the next best plan of action.

Merlin rested for the rest of the day, praying that he wouldn't be required to work the next day. He retired to his room early, surprised at the parcel waiting for him. Opening the paper up cautiously, he discovered a thick pair of leather gloves adorned with the Camelot crest, as well as some woollen socks and a platter of ham, cheese and bread. Underneath was a hand written note:

Merry Christmas, you ass.

Feeling strangely elated, Merlin settled himself down for the night thinking that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to polish some of that prat's armour tomorrow morning.

So I guess that's it! Have a great Christmas everyone, regardless of when you read this! (There's always a Christmas to look forward to, even if it's 365 days away...) As always, please review if you enjoyed, it'll be the best Christmas present!!