Notes: This is my first Merlin ficlet, and it's actually not very slashy, at least, not anymore than their entire relationship already is. I hope you enjoy it, anon! Originally written for In Small Packages 2013.

It takes Merlin months just to gather all of the metal. He works it with a magical flame, with some of the tricks he's picked up from watching the castle blacksmith and with his own magical ability.

It's going to be perfect, he thinks, absolutely perfect. Worthy of the greatest king who shall ever live, worthy of Arthur.

"Merlin!" Arthur's voice comes out of his chambers, and Merlin shakes his head as he pulls open the door.

"Right here, Sire," Merlin says, coming in with the large festive box. "What can I do for you?"

Arthur looks up from his desk, where he's obviously misplaced something, but his eyes catch on the box instead. "What's that?"

Merlin smiles. "This? Oh, it's nothing; it's uh, just your Yule present."

Arthur straightens at his desk, and he seems to consider the gift. "You got me a present?"

"Well," Merlin corrects, shrugging as casually as possible, "I made it, actually."

Arthur makes an impressed face, puts his hands on his hips and nods. "That's, wow," he says, and then he holds up a hand, "That is such a coincidence because I got you something as well!"

"You did?" Merlin says, and he lets some surprise come through in his voice, along with the mirth. Of course Arthur's gotten him something. He wouldn't just forget to give Merlin a present on the one holiday known for gift exchanging, not with everything Merlin does for him.

"Yes, but it's, uh," Arthur says, "It's not wrapped yet, so you'll have to close your eyes if you want it now."

Merlin sets Arthurs gift down on the desk, and makes a show of closing his eyes. "Well, if you insist."

"Right, let me just get it," Arthur says, and Merlin can head him walking around the room.

"I don't know where you would have hidden it that I wouldn't find it," Merlin says, with some amusement, "I clean this whole room."

"Yes, terribly," Arthur says, though his voice doesn't sound amused, "No peaking!"

Merlin waits until Arthur is standing in front of him again and says, "Alright, open!" before he does.

Merlin isn't sure what he's expecting, exactly. He's not expecting anything horrible glamorous or large, just a token, really, of Arthurs appreciation. He's certainly not expecting what appears to be a torn piece of Arthur's bed sheet.

"It's," Merlin begins, and finds he doesn't know what else to say.

"It's a new scarf!" Arthur says enthusiastically, holding the roughly triangular piece of fabric up to Merlin's neck.

"Oh, a," Merlin says, taking the piece of fabric despite feeling kicked in the gut, "A new scarf! Yes, yes of course it is."

Arthur makes a noise like he's incredibly proud of himself for having thought of this, at the last moment, to tear his bed sheets which Merlin washes and repairs himself to give Merlin a shotty new scarf. Merlin tries to make a face that isn't a grimace.

"Thank you, Sire," he says.

"You're quite welcome," Arthur says, and he goes back over to his desk and points to Merlin's gift. "Shall I open yours, then?"

Merlin stares at the package with a sinking stomach and waves it off, "No, no, don't open it now. Open it later, when I'm not here," he says. "If there's nothing else, my lord?"

Arthur makes a wave of his hand that seems to agree with his dismissal, and says, "Enjoy the scarf!"

Merlin doesn't answer and instead runs out the door.

Merlin slams the door as he comes into Gaius's chambers, making the bottles on Gaius's table rattle. Gaius looks up and over his glasses at the young warlock. "How did it go?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Merlin says, and he goes into his room, and comes out a moment later with a satchel.

"Where are you going?" Gaius asks, watching Merlin quickly cross the room again towards the door.

"Out, away," Merlin says angrily, waving his satchel, "Anywhere that isn't here."

"Will you be back for the Yule Feast tonight?" Gaius asks, taking off his glasses and wondering if he should try and persuade Merlin to calm down before he leaves. "You know very well Arthur will be lost without you."

Merlin stops, his hand on the door handle. "Yes, yes he would, wouldn't he? He'd be lost, absolutely lost without me! I've saved his life more times than I can count, I do all he asks me to do, and for what, hmm? For what, Gaius?"

Gaius tries to come up with an answer and ends up lightly shaking his head.

"Nothing, that's what! I do it for nothing. Well, if his royal arsehat comes calling for me, you can tell him to shove it!" Merlin yells, and then he whips open the door and storms out.

"I doubt very much I can say that to the king!" Gaius calls, but it is too late, and Merlin is gone, leaving Gaius very confused.

It's mid-afternoon by the time Arthur is able to think about opening Merlin's gift again. He's been working on important papers all morning, and it will be time for the feast soon, which means Merlin will be back to dress him. Arthur remembers Merlin's instructions to open his gift when he isn't there, and he goes over to the box which he'd set by the window and smirks.

Probably embarrassed, poor fellow, at having made Arthur something himself. Arthur undoes the bow, and pulls open the small wooden box.

To his great surprise, something shiny gleams at him from inside. The box is lined with the soft material, and when Arthur reaches in, his hands grip a magnificent silver circlet.

No, Arthur realized, as he pulls it from the box. A silver crown, made of materials Arthur can't even name. It has no jewels, but it seems to shine like moonlight, the soft metals colliding together at just the right angles. Arthur turns it in his hands, amazed that every which way it twists it seems to look like the front is meant to be, and also at how light and soft the crown is. As he holds it, he looks down into the box to see a tiny note in Merlin's nearly illegible scrawl.

For you to wear on Yule, it reads, Your Friend, Merlin.

Arthur is absolutely astounded, and as he is about to lift the crown to his head to try it on, something occurs to him.

He flashes back to that morning, when he had felt so devilishly clever shredding his bed sheet to give Merlin a piece of it as a scarf, and his heart sinks.

"Oh, you stupid," he starts, and then he gently places the crown back in the box and rushes down to Gaius's.

"Gaius!" Arthur calls, bursting in through Gaius's door and starling Gaius for the second time that day. "Gaius, where's Merlin?"

Gaius frowns. "He left earlier this morning," Gaius tells him, "And he left a message for you, but I'm not comfortable repeating it, Sire."

Arthur puts his hands on his hips and sighs. "Did he say where he was going? It turns out I've been a bit of a prat, and I need to apologize."

Gaius snorts. "So you've seen the crown."

"Where did he buy it?" Arthur asks, "It's marvelous, I've never seen anything like it."

"He didn't buy it," Gaius says, walking over to his table and sitting down, returning to his work while Arthur frets around him, "He made it. It took him several months, you know."

"But how?" Arthur asks. "I mean, it's Merlin!"

"Forgive my impertinence, Sire, but Merlin has a great many more talents than you care to notice or appreciate. Metal work is just the most recent in a long line of things he's learned to better serve you, and you never seem to remark on any of them. I can't blame the boy for being angry with you," Gaius says. He leaves out the part of Merlin using magic to help weld the crown for obvious reasons.

"I gave him a new scarf," Arthur says, and he sounds like he truly regrets it, "And it wasn't even a scarf. It was a torn piece of bed sheet."

Gaius turns to Arthur and looks at him over his glasses. "You're joking."

"Help me, Gaius," Arthur pleads, "Or he'll never forgive me."

Merlin sits in the woods, poking at his magical fire with a stick and sulking.

A bird tweets on a branch nearby, reminding Merlin of the growing twilight. "It isn't as though I ask for much," he tells the Finch he's been relaying the story to, "Just a little bit of human treatment, you know?"

Merlin sighs, tossing his stick into the fire. Arthur will be wondering where he is about now. It's nearly time for the feast, and Merlin knows quite well Arthur can't be bothered to learn how to dress himself.

"I'll go back," he tells the bird, who tweets sadly, "Of course I will. Just a short while longer to let him fret."

The bird tweets and flies off, and Merlin huffs.

"You're right," he tells the bird as it flies towards the castle, "I'll probably just get yelled at."

By the time Merlin get's back to the castle, it's nearly dark. He rushes to his Gaius's chambers to find him already gone, and opens the door to his room to toss in his satchel and get moving.

He stops, though, when he sees a large box on his best, with a festive sprig of mistletoe on top.

At first, he wonders if it's a consolation prize from Gaius, as a way to make up for how awful Merlin had been feeling earlier. But then he sees his note, the one he'd left for Arthur in the box with the crown, placed carefully on top.

For you to wear on Yule, it reads, and instead of Your Friend Merlin, it reads Your Friend Arthur, with Merlin being scratched out in new ink. Merlin scoffs. Prat.

He pulls open the box and sighs. "You've got to be joking," he says, as he pulls out the giant, red, fluffy, plumed hat of his nightmares. It's the damned ceremonial hat Arthur had made him wear the first time he'd worked a formal dinner.

"Don't worry, I am," Arthur's voice says, and Merlin whirls, not having realized Arthur was standing in the corner of his room.

"Arthur," Merlin says, and Arthur pushes off the wall and takes a few steps forward.

"Actually I thought you could burn it," Arthur says, indicating the hat, "As a small way of getting back at me for being a horrible, unforgiveable, unmitigated arse."

Merlin tries not to grin, he really does. But he never gets tired of hearing Arthur call himself names. "Figured that out, did you?"

"This is all I had time for right now," Arthur tells him, "But I promise, I'll make it up to you. You can have any gift you want, anything you can think of."

Merlin raises his eyebrows. "Anything? Really? Because I could want something that might be very embarrassing for you."

Arthur narrows his eyes. "I was thinking something money could buy."

Merlin hums, turning the hat over in his hands. "Not sure that's going to be good enough."

Arthur sighs, but Merlin can tell he really is sorry. Just sorry enough to agree.

"Firstly," Merlin says, setting the hat down, "I want a new title. I don't want to be called your manservant anymore. I want to be called something with a little more dignity. I'll still have all the same duties, but I want to be called something like your assistant, or the Master of Trousers. Something."

Arthur laughs. "We'll come up with something. Brand new title, just for you."

Merlin nods. "Good. Secondly, I want a full thirty seconds of praise every day."

"You're pushing it, Merlin," Arthur warns, and Merlin laughs.

"Fine," Merlin says, and he picks up the hat again, "Then I have one other request."

It is a token of how much Arthur cares for Merlin that he goes along with the idea. It's far better than any gift Merlin could ask for or Arthur could buy.

You have to love it, Merlin told him, No playing it off like you lost a bet or are doing me a favor.

And Arthur does. He owns it, works that ridiculous hat like it's the most glorious crown he's ever worn.

And as for the crown Merlin actually made him, well. There will be other years, other Yule Feasts to wear it at. Tonight, Merlin just enjoys the show of Arthur wearing the hat like a good sport.

"What's that you're doing?" Arthur wonders the next day, as Merlin sews at the table across from him.

"Just fixing that rag you gave me into an actual scarf," Merlin says, pulling the needle through the now more triangular fabric.

"Merlin," Arthur says, standing up from his breakfast and coming over, "Give that here."

"Absolutely not," Merlin says, standing and circling around the table to put it between them, "You gave it to me, it's mine."

"I will buy you an actual scarf," Arthur says, dashing around the table as Merlin quickly jogs to the other side, "Please give that back."

"No, no," Merlin says, laughing, "It was a present, however ill thought, and I intend to wear it."

Arthur jumps over the table at him, and Merlin runs back into Arthurs chambers, tries to run over Arthur's still rumbled bed to put it between them, but Arthur is faster and he yanks Merlin's legs out from under him, bringing him crashing down to the mattress.

"It's mine!" Merlin shouts, shoving a hand in Arthur's face and laughing as Arthur lands on top of him.

"Merlin!" Arthur says, his shout slightly muffled by Merlin's hand.

Merlin's holding the scarf just out of reach of Arthur's hand, balled up in his fist, and finally Arthur stops struggling over him and pauses.

"You just want to wear it to make me feel guilty when I look at it, don't you?" Arthur asks, and Merlin takes his hand off of Arthur's face.

"Well…" Merlin teases, and Arthur sighs.

"I am sorry, Merlin," Arthur says quietly, making Merlin pause. "The crown was magnificent, truly."

The corner of Merlin's mouth quirks up. "That's not a full thirty seconds," he says gently, elbowing Arthur lightly in the stomach.

Arthur ruffles his hair irritatingly.

"Alright, here, take it!" Merlin says, tossing the scarf backward at him. Arthur takes it and climbs off him, and then holds out a hand for Merlin to take. Merlin does, and Arthur hauls him up and then tucks the scarf into his pocket.

Merlin is thinking how easy it's going to be to steal it back when he washes Arthur's pants when Arthur changes the subject.

"Someday, I'm going to get you to tell me how you made that crown," Arthur tells him, pointing at the bluish silver crown that Arthur has set on display near the window.

"Mmmm," Merlin agrees, glancing back at him, "Someday."