This is a collection of drabbles based on my "Two Destinations" universe, so you will have to read it to fully understand it. Each drabble is entitled with a Christmas song that is one of my favorites (I love every Christmas song, practically) and somewhat represents a bit of what is going on in each story.

1. Let It Snow

Gwen ended the call with the man she could mistake for a child rather than her boyfriend. How could someone be so needy? It was just one night. What did he think there would be a blizzard no one had foreseen that would come barreling down all of a sudden and bury her out here in the English countryside until Spring?

She wandered the halls of the immense manor belonging to the Pendragons, trying to find her way back to the party. She had met Morgana that summer at a protest rally and somehow the woman had convinced her to make this trip, two days before Christmas, to meet her family and hobnob with some of England's finest.

The evening wasn't entirely dreadful. Morgana's stepfather and her brother seemed just as nice as she was and many of the guests had been cordial. The food was as expected and the scenery was like something you'd read in a turn of the last century novel.

She twisted the knob on one of the wrought iron and glass doors and stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the enormous garden. The evening air was cold, and the sky was covered in thick clouds. She walked out farther to try to get a better look of the grounds that had warm, glowing lanterns hanging from something that it was too dark for her to make out exactly.

"Not having any fun inside?" she heard from behind her. She jumped at the sound of the man's voice and spun around to see who it might be. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," he said.

"No, it's fine. I'm fine. Arthur, right?" She said pointing at Morgana's adopted brother.

He stood and began walking over to her. "Did I make that good of a first impression?"

"Well, I do have a knack for remembering faces," she said titling her head.

"Only the good looking ones, right?"

She laughed at his bad joke. "Yes, but it's the truly arrogant, pigheaded ones that really stand out in my book."

He laughed along with her and nodded. "I deserved that."

She stepped closer to the ledge and peered over, placing a tentative hand onto the cold stone. "You really have a lovely home," she told him.

"It's my father's," he said. "But, it is quite nice."

"Are you not enjoying yourself at your own party?" she asked still looking down into the sea of lights.

He set his glass down on the ledge and slipped his jacket off his shoulders. "You must be cold," he said wrapping the warm garment about her. She pulled it snug around her body and instinctively inhaled his scent.

"Thank you," she said.

He leaned his back against the ledge and crossed his arms, staring down at her inquisitively. "Why are you out here?"

"Oh, I just had to make a call."

"Boyfriend?" he asked.

"How did you know?"

"Well if you were my girlfriend, I would be calling every fifteen minutes to make sure that a certain blond haired, blue eyed man with devilishly handsome looks and a sort of witty charm wasn't trying desperately to get your attention out here in the country."

She laughed again. "I would not have pegged you for the insecure type."

"It happens to the best of us."

A few flakes of snow began to fall around them as they stood, comfortably quiet together. Gwen stuck her hand out and tried to catch some of the white frozen drops in her palm.

"He thought there might be a lot of snow tonight and that I wouldn't be able to get back to the city."

"No such luck, I'm afraid," Arthur said.

Her eyes rose to meet his.

"Only a dusting they say. You should be able to get home to him."

"I should get back inside," she said, reluctantly removing the warm, fragrant jacket from her shoulders and handing it to him. "Thank you, again."

"Any time," he replied taking it from her hand and folding it over one arm.

She stepped inside and closed the door, taking one last look out of the beveled glass. His back was turned and he stood staring out at the garden as if he had never seen it before tonight.


2. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairies

"I cannot believe how irresponsible you can be sometimes, Arthur," Morgana scolded him.

"Me!" he said.

"Yes, you," she replied holding Merlin's hand and brushing his dark, damp hair from his forehead.

"It's not my fault he's a lousy skier," Arthur said.

"It was an advance run. He should never have been up there with the both of you," Gwen now added eyeing both him and Lancelot.

"He said he could handle it," Lancelot explained for the pair.

"It's just a little sprain," Merlin interjected reaching for his ankle and then wincing in pain.

The motion and his expression only motivated the women's motherly instincts. Both men stood watching as they cooed and consoled their injured friend seated between them with rubs of the hands and the occasional hug or kiss. Merlin had the ice wrapped around his ankle and a sorry look about his face.

"Do you need me to get anything for you, Merlin?" Gwen asked him.

"Some hot chocolate would be nice," he said as if he were nursing a bullet wound at death's doors. "With marshmallows and whipped cream."

She smiled at him. "Okay," she said rubbing his cheek with her fingers.

She got to her feet and shook her head at Arthur and Lancelot as she walked past them.

"I'll help you," Lancelot said before Arthur could offer.

"No, I think you've both done enough for one evening."

The two ostracized men moved to the far corner of the lodge to sit together by themselves. They watched as the third man received excellent care from the women who would only shoot angry looks their way from time to time.

"He's got to be faking," Lancelot whispered to Arthur.

"What?"

"I saw him. He barely fell."

"Why would he fake something like this?" Arthur asked, but then he looked at the scene playing out before him and found his answer. "That skinny little…," he said.

"Yeah, and now they'll treat us like this for the rest of the week."


3. Santa Baby

"What about these?" Morgana asked holding up the men's undershorts before her face.

"Hmm, naughty or nice," Gwen said pondering.

"Says here, they glow in the dark."

"Oh, Merlin would definitely like those."

"You say that for everything I suggest for him."

"That's because you have the easiest assignment. You could give that boy lumps of coal and he'd love it as long as it came from you."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh you are more perceptive than that, Morgana."

"He doesn't like me in that way."

"Of course he does," she replied. "He's like a helpless little puppy when you're near him."

"It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is," she said a little under her breath, but loud enough so the other woman could hear.

"Changing subjects now. What did you get for Lancelot this year?" Morgana asked with a cheeky half-smile.

"Stop it," she said. "Lancelot and I were over months ago. We tried it and we both agreed that it was a lovelier thought in theory and than in practice."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked.

"Very," Gwen replied firmly to put an end to the matter.


"Whose bloody idea was it to have a twenty quid limit on gifts?"

"That would be me," Merlin said rather proud of himself sitting next to Lancelot with their shopping bags as their friend rummaged through the aisles of yet another store.

"It's not fair," Arthur said shaking his head. He pointed to Merlin, "You have Gwen, who's so sweet that she'd sincerely love anything, anyone gave her and you," he said to Lancelot, "you, have me."

"You're not exactly the easiest lad to shop for," Lancelot said grinning.

"Well it has got to be easier than Morgana," he replied.

"She's your sister," Merlin said. "You've know her all your life. How is this so difficult?"

"It's twenty bloody quid. What could I possibly get her for that?"

The two men sat, thinking. Neither could produce an answer.

"See," Arthur said. "It's not fair. I hate Christmas."

"Oh, don't say that, mate," Merlin chided.

"Yeah, Father Christmas will put you on the naughty list for sure," Lancelot added.

"I know this might be come as a surprise to you, but those random strangers that you stumble into on Christmas Eve offering you presents with holly in their hair, they're not Father Christmas."

"Fair enough, but sometimes they do wear lovely stockings under those robes," Lancelot added.

He and Merlin laughed and it only made Arthur more incensed.

"Okay, okay, calm down," Merlin said to him.

"I want Gwen. Give me Gwen," Arthur demanded.

"No chance," the seated man replied.

"Why not? Aren't you in love with my sister anyway? This will be a good 'in' for you."

"Arthur, if I'm going to steal her away from Alvarr, I'm going to need a hell of a lot more than twenty quid to buy her a proper gift."

Merlin looked to Lancelot who seemed to agree with his logic, before they nodded in unison and then looked back at Arthur as they began to laugh again.

"I hate you both," the blond man told them.


4. Oh Christmas Tree

It had already been a long day by the time he was set to stick the key into the lock of his door. Outside, he could hear the faint chorus of holiday music on the other side of walls. Arthur pushed open the door to his flat. At once, he recognized that it was more than just the jolly sounds emanating from his place that was wrong.

His normally stark white, sleek and modern style flat was now draped in green and red colored tinsel hanging from the tops of the walls, crisscrossing their way down the entry hall. This was Guinevere's doing. She'd only been his flatmate for a few months and for most of that time she had been more than accepting of all his idiosyncrasies; that was until now apparently.

He deposited his coat and walked the narrow artery that flooded into the open area at the heart of his home. She didn't hear him enter or drop his keys loudly into the bowl – the music was up too high. He walked over to the controller and hit the mute button.

"Hello, Guinevere," he said looking at her half twisted body about to hang one of the baubles onto the tree. She formed a nervous smile and looked at him.

"Hi, Arthur."

"Guinevere," he said standing on the opposite side of the sofa with his hands by his side and his face as solemn as he could make it.

"Yes," she said.

"Are these holiday decorations on the walls and ceilings?"

She nodded timidly.

"And is that a Christmas tree?" he asked pointing over to where she was standing.

"It is." She hung the round ball on a branch and turned to face him again, a little more composed now and speaking with a tad bit more conviction.

Arthur nodded and took a few steps in her direction. "And what are they doing here?"

"Well," she began. "I know we discussed this before–"

Arthur cut her off. "You see, that's precisely what I thought as well."

"But Arthur, it's Christmas. How can you not have a Christmas tree?"

"Very easily," he replied. "You just don't get one as I believe we agreed to before."

"I know we talked about that," she said, walking towards him, "and I know I agreed not to do this, but I just thought you felt that way because you didn't want to go through the hassle of buying one and then getting it in here and sticking all the trimmings onto it."

"This all sounds very familiar," he replied. "Continue," he said.

"Right. So that's when I got the idea that as a gift to you, I would do all those things that you hate and then you could have a Christmas tree without the worries."

Arthur rolled his eyes. He wasn't a Grinch. He just hated the trouble of going through the process, only to rip everything down twelve days later. She was still fidgeting a few feet away from the tree as he crossed the room and stepped by her to look at it more closely. "How did you even get it inside?"

"Well, I can't say."

He looked at her knowingly from over his shoulder. "That means Merlin was involved." Her eyes avoided his. "And my sister too, probably?"

"Arthur, what does it matter?" she said moving to stand next to him. He towered over her. "It's nearly done now," she said. "Can we keep it? Please?" she begged.

He looked down at what he imagined was her most adorable 'give me what I want' face.

"I'll let you put the star on top," she said.

He couldn't help the crooked smile in response. She gave him a hug to celebrate her easy victory.

"Fine, but I have your word that this will not happen next year."

"Promise," she said twitching with excitement.


5. Please Come Home for Christmas

"Alright, we'll see you soon then," Arthur said into the phone.

"Was that Gwen?"

"Yeah. It doesn't look like she'll be back from Spain in time for Morgana's New Year's Eve party."

"Oh, that's a shame," Sophia said.

The woman sat next to him and curled under his arm. They sat on the sofa staring at the tree that he and Gwen had bought together. That they trimmed the night before she left to visit with her father and her brother.

"I like your Christmas tree. It's very cheery," his girlfriend told him. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd be such a sap for the holidays."

Arthur chuckled. "I wouldn't describe it as being a sap, but you can't have Christmas without a Christmas tree," he responded.


"A toast," Merlin said lifting his warm cider, "to another year with friends both near and far."

The others clanged their glasses.

"I miss Gwen," Morgana said dropping her head onto Merlin's shoulder.

"And Arthur," Lancelot added pulling Elena closer to him.

Arthur's sister made a face before finally nodding in agreement.

"Well, at least we can be happy that they're also in the company of those who love them," Merlin said.


"Happy Christmas, Dad," Gwen said handing the rectangular box to her father.

"What is it?" He asked in wonder.

"Open it," she said giggling next to her brother.

"Whatever you do, don't shake it," Elyan told him with an outstretched arm.

"Why do people do that?" Gwen said still excited.

"You do it all the time," her brother answered.

She nudged him with a tiny elbow.

"It's a new laptop," their father shouted. "Oh, I needed one of these."

"Yes, so you and Uther can keep in touch or whatever it is you two do," Elyan imparted.

"They play online chess," Gwen said looking at him.

"Oh, that's right," he retorted.

Gwen rolled her eyes at him. "My turn," she said reaching for another wrapped package with her name on it.


6. Last Christmas

Arthur sat next to Gwen in the dark room, lit only by the dancing fairy lights of their fully dressed Christmas tree. This was the third one they had since she moved in and changed his longstanding custom of only ever enjoying the professionally prepared trees at the Pendragon estates either in the city or at the one, miles outside in the country.

"I'm going to ask Sophia to marry me," he said to her.

She turned away from the tree and looked at him, but said nothing. He was hoping she would have said something or told him whether or not she felt it was the right thing to do.

"I wanted to tell you first," he continued.

"That's great news, Arthur. Congratulations," she said. She reached over and gave him a hug. He returned it and held on. "She's a great girl. I know you'll be happy together."

Arthur couldn't say anything, now. He only wanted to hold on to his friend a little longer, but she pulled away and he let her go.

"Thank you," he mustered.

She smiled at him and then went back to staring up at their tree.

"Happy Christmas, Arthur."

"Happy Christmas, Guinevere."


A/N: This was written for NJCOL at LJ because she asked me to. :DDD

Forgive me for messing up all this English in this one...SORRIES. Anyway, I hope you liked it.