[Third Person Pov]
"Ughhh!!!" Arthur groaned in pain as he was jolted awake, his eyes shooting open when he felt something heavy land squarely on his stomach. The air whooshed out of his lungs as Merlin bounced playfully on top of him, giggling at his misery.
Merlin leaned down close enough that a few strands of her silver hair brushed against his nose and said in a teasing singsong tone, "Good morning, sleepyhead—and Merry Christmas~!"
Arthur's eyes fluttered half-open, his face scrunching up in discomfort. He let out a small, pathetic whimper as he mumbled, "Merlin, please… it's too early. I barely slept a wink."
"And whose fault is that?" Merlin scoffed, crossing her arms and raising a perfectly unimpressed eyebrow. "No one told you to stay up half the night experimenting with spellcraft. You've only yourself to blame, genius."
Arthur gave a muffled "Hmm…" as he tugged the blanket over his head in defiance, trying to shield himself from both her words and the morning light filtering in through the window.
Merlin sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward with fondness. "Honestly, you're hopeless. Come here, you fool."
Before Arthur could react, Merlin reached down and cupped his cheeks in her hands, forcing him to look at her. Her touch was warm, her violet eyes glimmered faintly as she pressed her forehead to his.
In that moment, a soft pulse of magic radiated from her, filling the air with a gentle hum. Arthur felt the fatigue in his body melt away—the heaviness in his limbs dissolved, and the fog clouding his mind lifted like mist under sunlight.
"Ahhh…" he sighed in relief, blinking a few times as energy flooded back into his body. "That felt… incredibly nice. Thanks, Mel. You're a lifesaver."
Merlin smirked but quickly tried to hide the faint blush creeping up her cheeks. She gave his face a light pat before letting go and pushing herself off him. "Don't get used to it," she warned, though her tone lacked any real bite. "I'm only doing this because it's Christmas. Think of it as a one-time gift."
Arthur grinned up at her and chuckled warmly. "Then Merry Christmas to you too, Mel." while stretched his arms with a content groan before hopping out of bed.
After a quick bath, Arthur came down the stairs dressed in soft, warm winter clothes. His golden hair was still slightly damp, catching the soft glow of the morning light. The scent of cinnamon, cocoa, and baked bread drifted from the kitchen, wrapping the house in a blanket of holiday comfort.
As he entered, he saw everyone already gathered around the table, laughter filling the air. A steaming cup of hot chocolate—complete with floating marshmallows—was waiting for him at his seat.
"Merry Christmas!" they all chimed together as Arthur joined them.
They exchanged cheerful greetings and dove into the feast prepared by Merlin and Perenelle. Though their group was small, the table was bursting with life—clattering utensils and laughter. The room felt alive, cozy, and bright, as if the walls themselves were humming with warmth.
Once breakfast was over, Arthur leaned back in his chair, brushing a few crumbs off his sweater before giving a cheeky grin. "So," he began, looking around the table with mock grandeur, "shall we begin with presents?"
"Actually, wait!" Perenelle interjected, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Before that, I have something for both of you."
Arthur and Merlin exchanged curious looks, before motioning for her to continue.The next time they turned to each other both Arthur and Merlin found themselves wearing matching wool sweaters.
Arthur's was royal blue, soft and finely knitted, with a large golden A stitched across the chest. Merlin's, on the other hand, was white with a delicate violet M embroidered on hers.
Arthur looked down at his sweater, his face lighting up with genuine joy. "This is amazing!" he exclaimed proudly, puffing out his chest. "Look, Mel! It's even got my initial!"
Merlin, meanwhile, sat frozen, staring down at her new attire with a look of absolute horror. Her cheeks burned red as she muttered under her breath, "This is so humiliating…"
A witch who had lived for countless centuries—respected, feared, revered—and yet here she was, reduced to wearing a cozy holiday sweater like a child at a family gathering. She felt as though a piece of her ancient dignity had just been knit into the fabric.
Perenelle, utterly delighted, clapped her hands over her mouth to suppress a squeal. "You two look absolutely adorable!" she exclaimed.
"I have to get a picture! Please—just one picture of the both of you!" Perenelle exclaimed, her eyes lighting up like a child's. She scurried around the room, frantically looking for her camera before stopping mid-step and smacking her forehead.
"Oh, right," she muttered to herself with a sheepish laugh, "I'm a witch."
She waved her wand with a quick Accio! and the camera came soaring through the air, landing neatly in her hands.
"Absolutely no—" Merlin began to protest, her tone sharp and immediate. But before she could finish, Arthur clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting her off.
"We would be delighted," Arthur said with an overly polite grin, his voice dripping with charm. "After all, it's the least we can do after you went through all the trouble of making us such lovely sweaters."
He shot Merlin a look—one that clearly said behave—and put extra emphasis on "lovely," just to drive his point home.
Merlin blinked, then slowly turned her eyes toward him with a sly smirk curling at her lips. She noticed something immediately—Arthur had been in such a rush to come downstairs, he'd forgotten to put on his gloves.
Perfect.
Without warning, she stuck out her tongue and licked the palm of his hand.
Arthur recoiled as if struck by lightning. "Yuck!!" he yelped, jerking his hand back and staring at it in disgust. "You're so gross! Why would you lick my hand!?"
"Don't cover my mouth next time," Merlin replied smugly, brushing her hair over her shoulder with mock elegance.
Arthur's face twisted into playful vengeance as he ran his slobbered hand right across her cheek. "Here, you can have it back," he said, smearing it triumphantly.
Merlin froze for a split second before shrieking, "Ew! Don't rub it across my face! And you called me gross? You animal!"
"Oh, I'm the animal now?" Arthur teased as she licked her palm threateningly.
Before she could retaliate, he caught her wrist mid-swipe, and the two dissolved into a ridiculous tug-of-war—half laughing, half snarling—as they grappled like bickering children.
Across the room, Perenelle and Nicholas exchanged weary glances.
"Do we… stop them?" Perenelle asked, half amused, half exasperated.
Nicholas only sighed, rubbing his temples.
With that, he stepped forward and physically separated the two squabbling mages, one in each arm like a tired parent breaking up fighting siblings.
Both Merlin and Arthur huffed, arms crossed, glaring at each other like sulking kids before finally trudging off to wash their hands.
When they returned, Perenelle had the camera ready, smiling brightly. "Now, come on, you two—pose together! This one's going in the family album."
Merlin and Arthur exchanged a look of mutual resignation before stepping close. Arthur wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her in tight, forcing a broad grin on her face. Merlin, in turn, grabbed his cheek and pulled it down into a frown.
Click!
Perenelle giggled as she captured the shot, utterly delighted. "Perfect! I love it! Oh, that one's going on the mantle—now hold still! Smile a bit more! Don't blink!"
She snapped several more, moving around them like an excited photographer at a royal wedding. Soon the entire room was echoing with laughter as she called out, "Wonderful! Yes—just like that!"
Then she paused, eyes gleaming mischievously. "Nicholas, here—take the camera. I want one with them."
Merlin leaned toward Arthur and whispered something in his ear. He snickered quietly and gave her a subtle nod.
Nicholas took it with a chuckle as Perenelle hurried to crouch down between Arthur and Merlin, wrapping her arms around them both.
Just as Nicholas was about to take the picture Arthur and Merlin each leaned in and planted a kiss on Perenelle's cheeks at the same time.
Perenelle froze, her eyes going wide, mouth forming a small "O" of surprise.
Nicholas burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped the camera.
Perenelle, on the other hand, turned bright red from ear to ear. "You two—! I wasn't ready!" she exclaimed, though her voice trembled with laughter.
Then, much to everyone's surprise, her eyes welled up. Tears slipped down her cheeks—not from embarrassment, but from sheer affection. "Oh, you two… I love you both so much," she said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
Arthur and Merlin exchanged a look that softened into smiles. They each hugged her gently until she finally composed herself.
They obliged in taking another set of pictures together, each more cheerful than the last.
Finally, for the grand finale, Merlin floated the camera into the air with a levitation spell so they could all squeeze into the frame—Perenelle, Nicholas, Arthur, and Merlin—all standing together in front of the glowing Christmas tree.
The camera clicked, capturing the moment perfectly: a little crooked, a little chaotic, but overflowing with warmth and joy.
It wasn't just another photo—it was a memory, sealed in magic and laughter.
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