A/N: Written for http://ainzeltinsel(dot)livejourna(dot)com/ because she is wonderful, and maybe a little bit ill. And I love her. And she liked the idea. And I made her die from triple squee and writing this is the punishment. We're both totally insane and mind readers. Yeppidy doodle do.

Lots of Fluff. Irresistible, slightly pointless fluff. Because I can't watch Merlin, so I might as well write about it.

Title: It's Snowing
Rating: G? PG?
Warnings: May cause teeth to rot. I suggest you have a toothbrush and toothpaste at the ready. And some floss. Just in case some of the sugar gets stuck in your teeth. Un-beta'd
A/N: Sorry, the poll kinda died. Horribly. *points at English teacher* She found my notebook. Told me I have to write it. So I did. Because she owns my soul.
Summary: "It's snowing." Merlin shows Arthur his Angel!Arthur. And Arthur tells him Angel!Arthur is nothing without his own guardian angel. Morgana features in this one quite heavily.

"Morgana," Arthur said, staring out the window, "It's snowing!"

They where in the middle of a banquet. Not a particularly important one, but one nonetheless. Merlin was sitting beside Arthur in his chair, because the last time they'd tried to separate them, Merlin had fallen over and hit his head, and Arthur wasn't very happy. He shouted. A lot. And then refused to let anyone see Merlin ((Interrupting to say I might write this at one point)) or himself all day.

"That's nice, Arthur," Morgana answered, the only one not immediately shot down by Arthur's pout. Merlin, however, was a different story. She couldn't say no to Merlin. Though, thankfully, he seems less inclined to use this to his advantage. Unless, of course, it would somehow make Arthur happy.

"MERLIN!" Arthur was either oblivious to the rest of the hall, or ignoring them. Though he was staring intently at Merlin, so Morgana bet it was the former. Very little could distract Arthur from Merlin, least of all Uther and his boring court full of (in Arthur's opinion) old farts.
"Merlin, it's snowing!"

"I know," Merlin said with a sigh. "Sit down and we'll go play later." Arthur seemed contented with this and sat down. Morgana fought down a triumphant laugh. She settled for a smug smile. Take that, Uther. See who really controls your precious son.

One of the visiting ladies screeched her delight and reached for Merlin, pinching his cheeks and picked him up, blissfully unawares of Merlin's discomfort and Arthur's increasingly annoyed expression. No-one messes with his Merlin and gets away with it. He's possessive and protective. He can barely stand it if Merlin's happy, but should you be making Merlin even the slightest bit uneasy and you will pay. Mini-Pendragon style.
Morgana wasn't particularly fond of this particular woman. So she thought she could possibly get away with keeping her mouth shut and laughing. Arthur was glaring at her, rather pointedly for a seven-year-old.
He growled. "E'scuse me, Ma'am," she peered at the Crown Prince round Merlin, "Could you please but my manservant down before you de-cap-ti-tate him."
Morgana stifled her laughter behind her handkerchief.

The women put Merlin down. He turned and clung to Arthur, burying his face in Arthur's neck. Arthur's hand tangles in the dark hair of the other and muttered soft, comforting nonsense words to him, while glowering at the women.

Morgana took great pleasure in standing up and ushering them both out the door. As they walked past the women, Merlin cringed a little and hid himself in Morgana's skirt (Arthur was infront, looking very determined and threatening), and she smirked at the insulted women. Uther just dropped his head into his hands and groaned.


"Snow," Arthur says, contently, "Is the bestest thing ever."
"Ever?" Morgana questions, from her place in the snow beside him.
"May not quite ever, then." Arthur is watching Merlin, whose playing in the snow a few feet away. Morgana smiled. Arthur mini-fied shows his obvious concern for Merlin more blatantly then normal Arthur does, and no-one thinks anything of it. It;s almost sad that, had they been their proper age, Merlin would probably be dead by now.

"Arthur, come here!" Morgana giggles. Arthur's half way to Merlin before he's even finished his sentence. Arthur's new purpose in life is to please Merlin.

"Lie down." Arthur does so. "Stretch out like a star." He does. "Wave your arms and legs." Arthur does so, to intent on Merlin's grin to care how much of a fool he looks. Morgana has happy tears in her eyes. She feels a surge of sisterly affection for both of them and dabs at her eyes with her sleeve. She knows where this is going.

Merlin pulls Arthur to his feet and writes something in the snow. It says, "Snow Angel!Arthur. My Prince."

"See," Merlin tells his feet, flushing, "You're my angel, and well, you protect me, and it's just kinda perfect and..."

"It's not quite perfect," Arthur adds. "Not without his best friend. Arthur!Angel is nothing without Merlin!Angel."

Morgana watches them play and a tear escaped down her cheek. She hiccups a soft laugh as she watches them hug and play and laugh. She's never seen Arthur so happy in all his life. He seems perfectly content to lie in the snow all day. It doesn't matter where they are, so long as they're together.

She goes over to them and hugs them both tight to her. She murmurs into their hair, "Whatever you do don't forget, and gods, don't ever change." She knows they won't understand, but her heart hopes, almost against hope, that they'll remember that together, they will unite Albion. She doesn't need dreams to tell her that much.


*smile* Thanks for reading!