This one is modern day, and if we could all go ahead and pretend that it isn't quite a few hours late, I'd really appreciate it. Please and thank you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. I'm running out of witty ways to get the point across, actually. It's a rather unnerving prospect, you know...


31 Days of Christmas

Day 4:
Candlelight.


Fic:

Sunday nights were reserved for relaxing and reading, catching up on television and drinking tea with thoughtlessness as they curled up with their laptops and books on the couch. It was a night for preparing themselves mentally for the workweek ahead of them and spending time with one another in the calm bubble of their own home.

So. That had been what Arthur and Merlin were doing. Each with a cup of tea near them, Arthur was watching some television show Merlin didn't quite care for and browsing some website he swore he wasn't addicted to while Merlin flipped through a few books, doing some research on a topic that he'd come across at work and had become curious about.

It was barely seven o'clock, but since it was nearing winter, it had grown dark out ages ago, and the sky was covered beautifully in storm clouds, with snow falling heavily upon the city and their house. They were meant to get quite a few inches, but it wasn't much cause for concern seeing as how they always got quite a bit of snow this time of year.

They were quite content with it, really, and the feeling it gave them to look out the window absentmindedly every few moments and see the snowflakes coming down, piling up gracefully everywhere the eye could see.

Until the lights and television and everything else in the house flicked off at once. Arthur's eyes were still glued to his laptop screen, seemingly oblivious to the situation until Merlin hissed, "Bloody hell," and snapped his book closed. "Arthur." He reached around in the dark, closed whatever other books that were sprawled on the couch between them and nudged his arm, alerting him to the darkness around them.

"What the hell," he looked up, towards the television. "Merlin, what did you do?" he asked, astonished at the harsh darkness against his bright laptop screen.

Arthur's face was illuminated with the faint glow of his laptop; Merlin could see him, but Arthur couldn't see the glare he was giving him as he indignantly said, "Me? Why would—how would I have—it's the storm, you clotpole. Power must have gone out." He smacked his arm and reached around in the darkness for his cell phone, left lying dangerously close to his tea.

He stared at the screen, saw a handful of texts from Gwaine and Percival and everyone else on the street they knew suddenly pop up. He shot off a few replies, confirming his suspicion. "Power's out on the whole block," he said then with a sigh.

He heard Arthur sigh in response and log off his computer, shutting it down with reluctance. He must have forgotten to charge it, Merlin realized with a grin. At least he wouldn't be alone in his boredom and misery, then.

"We'll need candles and blankets, then," Arthur sighed once more, carefully moving from the couch and placing his laptop on the table just in front of them. "You all right with camping out on the couch until the power comes back on?" he asked, not waiting for an answer. "I'll get the blankets, you fetch those candles from the cupboard. Damn, guess it wasn't such a bad idea to stock up on those." He grumbled, walking off to get the blankets off their bed and the hall closet.

Merlin grinned and stood from the couch, getting the candles and returning with them not a moment later. Lucky for them, Merlin had insisted upon buying a plethora of all different sorts of candles last they were out, for situations such as these. Arthur had resisted, saying that the power wouldn't go out any time soon. And how he hated being wrong.

Still grinning with superiority, Merlin went about the room with the collection of candles in his arms and left them lit on the tables and television stand, then went and placed some in the kitchen as well, just in case they needed to get something to eat or drink before the power came back on. He hoped it wouldn't be out too long; he had some food in the fridge that he didn't want to go bad…

Just as he settled back in on the couch, candles lighting the whole room up in a blissfully medieval and romantic way, Arthur came back into the room with an armful of all the different sorts of blankets and quilts they owned. Grumbling under his breath about storms and stupid eye-candy knowing more than they should, he dropped them to the floor, picked the top one up and spread it over Merlin. He picked up one more and threw it on top as well and then took his seat next to him, getting quite comfortable under the blanket as he snuggled close to him.

"What do you want to do to pass the time?" Merlin asked then, raking his hand through Arthur's hair as he grinned at him suggestively.

"I can think of a few things…"

"Mmm, not that. Next time think better before calling me an idiot for insisting we get so many candles at once," he teased, laughing when Arthur pouted back at him.

"Well what else is there to do?" he whined. Merlin rolled his eyes.

"We could talk? No, but that would require too much effort on your part, wouldn't it? Wouldn't want you to think too much and blow a fuse—power's already gone out." He teased again, ignoring the look in Arthur's eyes that said he wanted to retaliate but was much too comfortable pressed against Merlin's side to risk losing it. "We could read. I've got plenty of books around here." He suggested then, reaching for a book he'd left on the back of the couch.

"But those are all boring Merlin-y books. Haven't you got any fiction around here?" Arthur asked, waving off the book Merlin offered him.

"Yes, but," Merlin pursed his lips. "They're on the bookshelf and, well, that would mean I'd have to get up." He said, pointing out the obvious problem. Arthur whined once again but swung himself into a sitting position on the couch anyway, much to Merlin's surprise. He hadn't expected Arthur to be so willing to let him leave the couch. Maybe he was just bored then, without his laptop and TV to entertain him.

Still, Merlin threw the blanket back and braved the suddenly chilly air—damn, he should have insisted upon some sort of heater that would run when the power was out as well—walked over to the bookshelf and grabbed the first one that caught his eye. Walking quickly back over to the couch, he shot Arthur a look of dissatisfaction when he saw he'd taken Merlin's seat. Arthur grinned back and held the blanket open, inviting Merlin to join him.

"Prat." Merlin grumbled, settling in on the couch and under the blanket once again. He stretched out, head resting on the arm and poking out of the blanket and using Arthur's lap as a chair.

"Love you, too, you idiot," Arthur sighed, leaning to press a kiss to the crook of Merlin's neck. Merlin sighed with the sensation and held the book up for Arthur to inspect.

"Does this please his royal highness?" he asked mockingly. Arthur just nodded, probably not even bothering to read the title.

"Read it to me?" Arthur asked, stifling a yawn. Merlin rolled his eyes, not bothering with any sort of witty retort about him behaving like a child. He cracked the book open and squinted against the harsh light given off by the nearby candles. It set quite a romantic mood, but hurt his eyes to read by before they adjusted to it.

"'There are those who say the stories in this book are entirely fiction, others who say there are some truths simply veiled in an attempt to keep the true history of the United Kingdom hidden to those who would abuse the knowledge,'" Merlin read, going on for a long while then, reading steadily and in a tone that soothed both men. With Arthur's hand lost in his hair and along the side of his face, Merlin's voice soon trailed off, having grown heavy with sleep for a good ten minutes before the book finally fell from his grasp and landed on his face.

Arthur smiled softly and picked up the book, closed it and let it fall to the floor next to him. Carefully, he placed a gentle kiss to Merlin's lips and then leaned back on the couch, settled in and let himself drift off to sleep as well, not caring in the least that they would both probably over-sleep in the morning.

Fin.


Ten points to the house who correctly guesses what sort of book Merlin was reading from. I just made up that intro sentence, of course, but still: ten points to whoever can figure out what sort of book it might have been.

Always,
Hisa-Ai.