Pendragon at Midwinter by frostygossamer
It s Midwinter's eve and time for the sovereign of Camelot to show his royal generosity to his subjects. A good king secures the loyalty of his people with a charitable purse and an attentive ear. To that end Uther holds an audience where any citizen of Camelot who has a grievance can bring their petitions and he tries to seem as open-minded as possible.
Meanwhile Arthur and his men distribute largesse, food and fuel, to the outlying villages and farms. He grumbles about doing this every year but actually likes it, as it makes him look good and, really, he does have a kind heart.
Court servants are not forgotten. They each get a new set of clothes and a token coin. Not much but better than a kick in the arse.
In the afternoon a visitor approaches Camelot on a fine white stallion. This is a beautiful woman, evidently a noblewoman from her sumptuous attire, all white fur with gold buckles. She is taken to King Uther who greets her eagerly, the old lecher, kissing her hand and fawning over her. The beauty s name is Lady Nivea and her smile twinkles and bewitches.
When Merlin goes to the stables to muck out Arthur s horses he is impressed by the handsome white steed he finds there. He pats it s flank and it emits a little whinny that sounds like a chuckle. As he works, out of the corner of his eye the animal almost seems to sparkle and shimmer. Merlin s suspicions stir.
Tomorrow on Midwinter s day there will be a great feast for the Court and Uther s many guests. There is so much to do that, as well as the castle s many cooks and scullions, every servant at Camelot is mobilized and run ragged, even Merlin and poor Guinevere.
Whenever she has a moment Guinevere returns to putting the finishing touches, sequins and pearls, to new gowns for Morgana. Acres of satin and velvet swamp her little room and pins and needles poke out of everything. Suddenly there is a knock at her door and, opening it, Guinevere sees the Lady Nivea standing on her threshold. She is holding up the hem of her white velvet gown. Some of the fur trim has been torn from it and is drooping down. Nivea begs her forgiveness for disturbing her with this little problem but Guinevere bobs politely and quickly repairs her dress. Smiling, Nivea thanks her and gives her a peck on the cheek as she leaves. Guinevere feels a smile warm her tired face and her spirits lift a little.
Merlin decides to keep an eye on their mysterious visitor. Following her around, dodging behind pillars and into doorways he notices that Nivea smiles and kisses everyone she meets on the cheek, Guinevere, Uther, Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Sir Leon and even Merlin himself plus lots of others. And as she does so she laughs tinklingly and makes each one smile.
As evening falls gifts are exchanged.
Arthur and Morgana give their king a brace of hunting dogs and a tome on roman war strategy. (Well what do you give someone when he already owns a kingdom?) And Uther responds formally by giving his son a new saddle cunningly tooled with his monogram and royal insignia and embellished with gold plus the revenue from a small yet lucrative village near Camelot s border. Arthur is pleased. Uther gives Morgana a heavy and ornate silver handmirror and a great many bolts of silk for new dresses. Morgana pretends to be happy but is secretly annoyed to do less well out of it than Arthur.
Arthur s gift for his foster-sister is a shoehorn, a somewhat un-girly effort and Morgana s gift looks boring so he doesn t bother to unwrap it. Servants take all the gifts back to their respective recipient s rooms and on the way Nivea runs her hand over the bolts of cloth and admires them.
In her bedroom Morgana counts and checks over her fabric and suddenly notices a piece of paper sticking out of a bale. It s a letter. Opening it she reads:
"Darling, I can t say this in front of Arthur but I love you far more than I love him. Cross my heart and hope to die if I ever tell a lie.
signed: your king, Uther. XXX"
An involuntary mini-smirk of delight flitters across her face. Then she opens Arthur s gift. The rather functional item he enclosed has become somehow more beautiful now that she comes to look at it, skilfully carved from deerhorn and studded with tiny pearls. She regrets her choice and hurries to his room to exchange the gift she gave him for something he would actually like. (And tip the poisonous spider out of the window.)
When Guinevere brings her finished gowns into Morgana s room, Morgana, feeling unusually philanthropic, gives Guinevere several of her old dresses for herself. Not appropriate for a maidservant but they have loads of lovely material in them for Guinevere to reuse. Guinevere loves this. She could never buy cloth like this on her modest wages.
Breathless Merlin staggers into Arthur s chambers with an armful of logs for the fire. Arthur is standing by the fireplace waiting for him. He coughs self-consciously and awkwardly presents him with something he could do without, a new neckerchief. He wished he wouldn t keep giving him those things!
As day dawns on the morning of the Midwinter feast snow begins to fall enchantingly. Gaius and Merlin rise early and exchange well thought out and useful gifts. A dragon-feather pen for Gaius, to help his arthritis when he writes and a large bound notebook for Merlin, for spells. Gaius tousles Merlin s hair avuncularly and Merlin smiles his sunny smile.
The castle is alive with busy and Merlin and the other servants are rushed off their feet right up to the appointed hour, when everyone has turned up and Uther declares the feast begun. Festivity commences.
The enormous trestle tables groan under the weight of food provided: roast boar, goose, chicken, duck, huge hams, beef sirloin, lamb shanks, quail, swan, ostrich, salmon, sea urchins, the lot. And, to accompany these, roast potatoes, sun-dried tomatoes, tiny cabbages imported especially from Belgium and interesting root vegetables from Afghanistan. Plus mounds of fruits-of-the-forest straight from the actual forest. (And ice-cream, a fortuitous accident when the milk churn got left outside in the snow!)
Entertainment isn t neglected. There are crowthers, fiddlers, pipers, singers, dancers, acrobats, jugglers, storytellers and local sports personalities. It is a riot!
After a long merry night finally Uther and Arthur stagger off to their beds. As they disappear and Merlin starts to relax he notices Lady Nivea smile at the cheery gathering and sneak silently from the room. He follows her.
Outside he finds her in the stables and accosts her as she is about to mount her magical mare. He tells her that he knows that she has magic and he wants to know who she is and what she's been up to. What enchantment has she been weaving.
Nivea smiles and kisses his forehead. She tells him that her gift is the spirit of Midwinter, Winterfest or, perhaps, Christmas-yet-to-come. Merlin looks confused so she explains that she came to Camelot to do no harm but simply to grant every soul a little of what they most desired.
Nivea mounts up and canters out through the great gate and disappears into the distance in a trice. Left standing in the snow, Merlin feels totally fatigued by his hard day and longs for his little bed. He doesn t feel that he got anything he really desired today.
But before he sleeps he should check that Arthur hasn t fallen asleep with his boots on again, to avoid trouble in the morning. So he goes to Arthur s chambers and is surprised to find his bedroom cosily lit by only the fire and a single candle. Arthur is already in his nightshirt, sitting up in bed, looking comfortable and slightly dozy.
"So you managed to get undressed by yourself for once", Merlin mutters sarcastically and trails across the room to pick up Arthur s boots, to polish for tomorrow.
"You look tired, Merlin", Arthur says.
"I am", replies Merlin, "too tired to think", and he shivers.
"You're cold?", Arthur asks.
"Yes", replies Merlin, "Chilled to the bone".
"Get me another nightshirt", Arthur orders.
"Why?", Merlin asks, dropping the boots and getting the item from the chest. "What's wrong with the one you have on?".
"Shut up and put it on", Arthur says, turning down the left side of his bed and scooching over to the right, then patting the mattress.
Merlin leans his head to one side, expecting the rest of the joke to follow shortly.
Arthur sighs. "You're cold and tired, Merlin. This bed is warm and there's lots of room. Stop being a baby and get in".
Well it does look very inviting and Merlin s too tired to argue so he kicks off his boots, pulls off his shirt and kerchief then slips the nightshirt over his head and shyly removes his breeches under its cover. Then his slips gingerly into Arthur s bed and pulls up the bedspread.
It s the softest bed he's ever been in. The mattress is soft, the sheets are fluffy, the blankets are thick and velvety. He feels like an egg wrapped in a lace doily in the middle of a summer cloud. He sighs and wriggles his toes. Arthur chortles and stretches out to snuff the one candle and the room is now lit only by firelight. Then, in one shocking movement, he turns over, grabs Merlin by the waist, clasps him against his chest and rubs his back vigorously in an enthusiastic big-brotherly sort of way.
"Better?", he asks. "Mmm...", is all Merlin can reply. At which Arthur promptly falls asleep, stilling hugging him and snoring gently into Merlin s right ear.
Trapped there, Merlin decides he might as well relax and enjoy the warmth. As he drifts off to sleep he thinks "Well I suppose everyone did get a bit of what they desired after all!".
The End