Happy Holidays, everyone!

There is nothing I like better this time of year than watching schmaltzy holiday Romantic Comedies on Lifetime or the Hallmark Channel. The cheesier the better. And when I saw Katie McGrath in one ("A Princess for Christmas"), I was inspired to write this little one-shot. It is cheesy Rom/Com, and I mean a lot of happy fromage and gooeyness. If that isn't your thing, stop reading right now. ;D

Just some comments on historical accuracy; I try to keep to the time period, but this is impossible to do one hundred percent, for a number of reasons. First of which, I can't write in the vernacular of the time, nor would you want me to. It would make for a confusing and boring read. Secondly, the show uses some more modern verbiage and comedic situations, so I feel free to do the same. Lastly, in the time of Arthur, Christmas would not have been the gift holiday; rather Epiphany – or Twelfth Night – would have been the big celebration. However, I'm sure we modern peeps would all prefer it be Christmas, and so that's what I've written in this story. But I did try to include some of the real images and traditions of their holiday festivities.

This fic is for all my lovely readers who sent me such nice comments, and for all the lurkers patiently waiting for me to hurry the hell up and write something already. You guys are the best. I hope you enjoy.

(Disclaimer: I own nothing from the BBC/NBC/SyFy show Merlin, and I make nothing from writing about it either. Suing me would be silly, as all you would get is a very grumpy King. This particular story, however, is mine. So hands off ;D)

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"I don't want a lot for Christmas,

there is just one thing I need.

I don't care about the presents,

underneath the Christmas tree.

I just want you for my own,

more than you could ever know,

Make my wish come true –

Baby, all I want for Christmas….

is you.

-Mariah Carey, All I Want For Christmas

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"Have you gotten the Queen her Christmas gift yet, Sire?"

Arthur's head jerked up from the scroll he was reading. Damn wizard was always sneaking up on him. At least it seemed that way. Of course, dragons could have flown by while he was trying to balance the realm's accounts, and he wouldn't have noticed them. Figures always gave him fits. Morgana was much better at this sort of thing; perhaps he could sweet-talk her into helping him again. With a frustrated sigh, he tossed down his quill and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Without bothering to look at Merlin, he replied, "Not that it's any of your business, but no, I haven't. There isn't any rush, I have plenty of time."

Out of habit, since it was no longer his duty to clean up after Arthur, Merlin bent and picked up a cloak that had been thrown on the floor and put it up on a chair.

"Hmm, I wouldn't think two days is plenty of time, but then I'm sure with your superior intellect, you wouldn't need nearly the time I would."

Arthur's startled gaze flew up to his. "Two days? Surely not. You've got the wrong week again, it's only Monday. Christmas is Sunday."

"Today is Friday."

"Bloody hell, it's in two days. I'm dead."

Merlin let the smirk he'd been suppressing go free. "You'll have to come up with something spectacular, because I know what Morgana's getting you, and it is pretty impossible to beat."

Arthur glared at him. "It isn't a ruddy contest, Merlin. It's the thought that counts."

"And how much thought have you put into it?"

Arthur got up from his desk and began to pace. "Alright, maybe the thought doesn't count all that much. Just tell me what she's getting for me, and that will give me a tactical advantage."

Merlin shook his head. "No."

"Pardon?" Arthur stopped to stare pointedly at him.

"No, Sire. I'm not telling you. Wild horses couldn't drag it out of me."

"I can arrange to have that theory tested quite easily."

"True, my Liege, but if you do that, who will help you out with your quandary?

Arthur turned away from Merlin's amusement to pace again, this time with more force in his step. "You've been absolutely no help so far. I hold little hope that you'll suddenly become useful."

Merlin let go a mock sigh, and plopped down on the chair he just dumped the cloak on. "Sire, you may possibly be right. Still, what choice do you have?"

The king snorted.

Merlin couldn't resist one last smidgen of needling. When Morgana had told him what she was giving Arthur, he'd come straight here to give his king a bit of hard time, but he had no idea he'd enjoy it so much.

"You need to strategize. This is your first holiday with Morgana. Men have been known to be kicked out of the bedchamber for giving horrible Christmas gifts. For weeks. Or, so I've heard. Gwen's always been satisfied with her gifts, but then again, I do have magic. I'm pretty much golden." He snapped his fingers.

Arthur stopped pacing to pounce on that. "Couldn't you just magic me something, Merlin? Jewels, or an ermine-lined cloak, perhaps."

"Both of which you've already given her when she was made Queen. She has every material thing she could possibly want, and you know Morgana holds those things in little regard at any rate. Besides, she'd know in a second if I used magic to make her gift."

When the king just stood there in helpless indecision, Merlin finally took a little pity on him. "You have to give her something from the heart, Sire. Something only you could give."

"I'd like to know who makes up these bloody rules. This is why people hate the holidays, and everyone drinks excessively. I'd love a cask of ale right now."

Merlin laughed. He couldn't help it. "Good thing you're in no rush. With you having plenty of time, and all."

Arthur jabbed a finger at him. "I sincerely hope Morgana is giving me your head on a platter."

With that, he turned and strode out of his solar, mumbling under his breath, "And I'll be damned if I'm getting kicked out of my bedchamber."

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It looked more and more like that could be the case, though, as the week wore on. Arthur rushed around in circles for the next two days. He could not for the life of him figure out what to get Morgana. Why was this so difficult? He'd given her presents before. She lacked for nothing. She already had an excellent sword his father had had made for her, and Arthur himself had gifted her with a beautiful palfrey upon their wedding. She'd also come into the jewels that went with her title as Queen, and she'd always had an amazing wardrobe. Sweets? She was indifferent. Precious manuscripts? She already had enough to read just helping him with the affairs and accounts of state. Perhaps he could have a mountain or something named after her….

Damn Merlin and his meddling. Arthur felt enormous pressure to find the perfect gift, and it was all because of that bloody conversation they'd had in his solar. He knew in his heart Morgana wouldn't care what he got her, but still, he wasn't about to be outdone by her gift, and be left looking like an idiot. Not him. He was the King, and he could do this.

Suddenly – or least it seemed that way to Arthur – it was Christmas day, and he was out of time. He had nothing prepared as a present, and it made him feel like the biggest sod in the world. How can a man not know what to give his wife? Especially on their first Christmas together. It should have been something special, Merlin was right. And now he'd gone and botched it.

He was in a foul mood, despite the festive air of Camelot. Morgana had directed the servants to hang fresh boughs of fir, and ivy and holly garlands around the great hall. Balls of spice and cinnamon suspended from beams perfumed the air, and fragrant mince pies cooled on a side table. A huge boar roasted on the central pit, and the palace dogs kept a close eye on any scraps that might come their way. On a small side fire, a pot of bubbling Lamb's Wool waited to wash down the rich food. Servants went busily to and fro as they prepared to serve the special meal, while a traveling troupe of minstrels and musicians warmed up for their performance from the gallery above the hall. A Yule Log dressed in pagan symbols burned cheerily in the stone fireplace, warming people coming in from Camelot's chapel after mass.

Arthur couldn't meet his wife's eyes as he escorted her into the hall and to their places of honor at the high table. He held her hand warmly, and gently led her to sit on her throne. He dropped down on his throne next to her, and waved at his steward to begin the festivities. Still, he did not look at Morgana. She hadn't given him her gift yet, but he was sure she was just waiting until after the celebration. But instead of eagerly anticipating it, he was dreading not having anything to give her in return. He deserved to be kicked out of the bedchamber. Even Merlin was a better husband than he was turning out to be, and that just stuck in his craw. His jaw was clenched so tight he thought he'd crack his teeth.

Then he felt gentle fingers cover his own where they gripped the arm of his throne. Her soft, white skin caressed his, and he was helpless not to look down in wonder. After six months of marriage he was still in awe of the fact that she was finally all his. How had he made it through life before without her by his side?

Morgana's soothing voice washed over him. "What is it, my darling? Your sour face will spoil the food. "

Arthur laughed, and looked up into her twinkling eyes. That was his girl, always ready to take a piss out of him when he was in a mood. She reached up to his handsome face, and smoothed back a lock of his gilded hair that had flopped down over his forehead.

"There he is, my charmer. What's got you tied in knots? Tell me, so I can enjoy my holiday without you grumping all over it."

Figuring at this point it was better just to get it all out in the open, the lack of gift and all, and somehow try and pin it on Merlin. He told her about his struggle to figure out what to get her for a Christmas present.

"And then Merlin went and said it had to be something special, something only I could give you, and that threw me – I mean, what would you want with sword lessons? You beat me half the time anyway. I know you didn't want any more jewels or furs. Plus I had the added pressure of equaling your gift, - which I still haven't gotten, by the way – which just adds up to me failing at this whole damn thing."

Annoyed, yet somehow relieved to just spew it all out, he was surprised when instead of being angry or hurt, his new wife just laughed. Her eyes were the warm gray of dawn, and her skin glowed like the rarest pearl. The jewels and silks she wore were no match for her own beauty. She captivated him.

Grasping both his hands in hers, she squeezed them in comfort. "Arthur, you silly, gorgeous, lovely man, you haven't failed. You have given me a gift no one else could. And actually, it's become my gift to you as well."

"Could you please not speak in riddles, Morgana? I get enough of that from Merlin. It gives me the headache."

Morgana finally took pity on him with an indulgent smile. "All right. Is this direct enough for you?"

She took one of his hands and guided it over to her still-flat belly. "In seven months time, your gift to me will become my gift to you, when I present you with our first child."

Arthur's eyes locked onto hers in a sudden panic.

"What?"

Morgana giggled. "A baby. You and I. July, as far as I can guess."

"What?"

"Arthur, do you need Gaius? You look a bit green."

"No, I…." Arthur shook his head, to snap himself out of his utter shock. A baby!

A huge grin burst across his handsome face, stretching his cheeks wide. "I'm going to be a father." He slowly rubbed loving circles around her middle. "We're going to have a son."

Morgana cocked her head. "Or a daughter."

"Yes, well, a son first. That's how we Pendragons work."

"Of course, my Liege. As you command."

"Sass? Already? I suppose for this I can tolerate it."

Arthur's face once again became serious, and his hand left her belly to cup her cheek. He guided her face forward to place a tender kiss upon her lips.

"This is the best Christmas I can ever remember. Thank you."

Morgana's smile contained all the joy this brief, perfect moment held.

"Oh my love, this is only the beginning. And you will never have to worry about getting me a present. All I ever want for Christmas…is you."

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