(Iris: Many, many thanks to Leoanda Taylor and HMemma546 for reviewing. Much appreciated. For the prompt from Leoanda, my first thought was of flowers, but we didn't use it for reasons you'll see later. Fortunately for me, my perfume reminded me of the smell of one of my favourite sweets when I was younger... :P

As before, we don't own Merlin. That belongs to the BBC and scriptwriters. If we owned Merlin and I had any say in it, Merthur would be canon, even though it practically already is. As for warnings, hmm... Slash if you squint??? Present day setting. Oh, and Arthur's a bit OOC. Sorry.)

Violet

Fed up, Merlin started his cold walk home, slowly climbing down the steps in front of the building. The middle of November was never a good time for the car to break down. On top of that, an overly controlling boss was breathing down his neck. A new exhibition was due to open in a few days at the museum where he worked and Merlin's supervisor wanted to make sure everything was absolutely perfect. Merlin sighed, a cloud of white vapour obscuring his vision for a few seconds. Why the hell was that woman so interested in the old Arthurian legends anyway???

Speaking of Arthur, he wasn't having a much better time than Merlin. On the plus side, Arthur owned his own small business so there was no boss examining his every move, but there were bills, loans and the recent recession certainly hadn't helped matters.

All-in-all, the situation wasn't great. By the time they got home, they were sleeping on their feet. With both pulling double shifts, there was little time available to either of them. Merlin tried, he really did. He tried so hard to find the time to talk with Arthur, but it was impossible.

It was one of the few times in life when Merlin really couldn't see a way forward. Of him and Arthur, he'd always been the optimist of the pair, so he couldn't even imagine what Arthur was going through. The future appeared dark and blank and he really couldn't see a single light in the future. It was like one long continuous dark tunnel, but there wasn't a single pinprick of light to be seen. He didn't know where the future led, but certainly, it couldn't get much more cheerful than this. The world was a cruel place after all. He'd learned that from an early age. Merlin dug his hands deep into his pockets to protect them from the cold, glad he'd chosen on old, comfortable pair of jeans. The Museum didn't require it's employees to wear formal clothes to work, which was one of the things that had attracted him to the job. A lorry rumbled past and overhead the clouds tumbled on, shaded in a threatening grey. Brilliant, Merlin thought examining them, Rain's the last thing I need.

Merlin's fingers touched something tubular in his pocket. Slowly, he brought his hands back out of his pockets, one grasping the new-found object. When he saw what it was, Merlin couldn't help but raise a smile. The packaging had practically disintegrated, making Merlin wonder just how long they'd been in there, but there was no mistaking the unusual bi-concave shape of the sweets wrapped in the packaging or their smooth texture against his fingertips. Merlin had to stop himself from laughing aloud.

If the packaging had been whole, in would have been a delicate shade of bluey purple that matched the sweets inside. There would have been bright pink writing outlined with black, clearly standing out from the background reading PARMA VIOLETS. A few of the sweets had been crushed by some kind of force or impact Merlin couldn't recall. How long ago had it been since he'd seen these sweets? Probably longer than when he'd bought this packet... His finger fumbled in the cold to undo the wrapping.

Violets! Merlin brought the packet to his nose and breathed in deeply. He closed his eyes, enjoying the scent before realising how out-of-place this looked and hastily lowered his hands again. That scent brought back so much. The violets reminded him of the smell that lingered around his grandmother's house. That scent was warmth and comfort; it was support and a sympathetic ear when he needed it. The fragrance reminded him of the safe haven he turned to when his parents where arguing again. It was the scent of refuge, but most of all, it was the same aroma he'd smelt when his grandmother told him what she thought was the most important thing in life. Hope. He could still hear the words echoed back to him from almost a decade ago. "Hope is the greatest gift you can ever give someone else," her soft, gentle voice had taught him, "Nothing else matters, as long as you have hope, because when you have it, the whole world changes. It's what keeps us going, even on the most dreary of days."

With a downcast look, Merlin remembered how that same woman had passed away four years ago next month. Cancer really was a terrible thing, but she'd fought back to the very end, with hope, precious hope, giving her eyes the steely glint and wondrous shine that so many of cancers victims had lost. His parents had only turned up towards the end of the funeral and Merlin resented them for it. Since then, he'd always given to cancer charities. He'd seen what it could do up close and personal, no-one should have to go through that.

But even if she had passed away, Merlin would carry on that message, proudly. Hope is the greatest gift. He brought his hands up once again, no longer caring that it looked like to passers-by. As he took another waft of the soothing scent, something small and cold hit the back of his neck.

Whoopee. Rain. The cold lingered too long to be rain though. It stayed put for a few seconds before travelling down his collar and back. Merlin looked upwards and was greeted by a flurry of thick white snowflakes. This time, Merlin didn't hold back. He looked upwards and laughed openly at the sky.

And suddenly, there was light again. The black tunnel of the future ceased to be so dark as the light sparked once again never to dim nor waver. Merlin walked on, watching the snowflakes float downwards, his wide smile never leaving his face.

"Merlin!" A voice he knew so well called at him from across the street. Had he really come this far already? "Where the hell have you been?!"

A rather tall and very agitated blonde stood in the open doorway of his and Merlin's house. He was holding a mug of steaming liquid, later identified as hot chocolate.

"Get in here and stop grinning like an idiot. Seriously, I even tried calling the museum and got through to that stuck up prig of a boss of yours. She's a right cow." Merlin's smile grew. "What took you so long? I thought you'd been run over or beaten up and mugged, not that you've got much to nick, or had fallen somewhere and knocked yourself out. Knowing you, that would be just your luck..."

Merlin almost skipped up the short garden path and took the mug gratefully, holding it in both hands and using it as a small heater. He waited for Arthur to finish his monologue with a patient smile.

When Arthur finally took a breath, Merlin knew the lecture was over. "Sorry Arthur," he apologised, his constant smile still evident on his face.

"Do you want a violet?"

After all, it was amazing what effect a single violet could have on someone's outlook. It really was.

(Iris: I know it sounds really cruel, but to me, violets really do smell like my aunt's house, no offense meant. I love the smell of Parma Violets! The sweets, I mean, not the flowers. I've never actually smelt a violet blossom before... I hope this hasn't let you down!

Anyways, don't worry! Just because I've written the last two one-shots doesn't mean that Artemis isn't busy. She's got a lot planned and written and I can't wait to see your responses. Once again, any suggestions for unusual colours/hues you think we might have forgotten about are welcome.)