AN: This is my Secret Santa story for The Hope Lions. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for setting this up!
A Joyous Yule to you all!

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Merlin never ceased to amaze Arthur with his stupidity. The Idiot had been ill for the past few weeks and had only just been cleared for work by Gaius and he goes and does this. What was he thinking?

It was nearly the Feast of St Stephen, which meant servant were to get the evenings off to spend time with their families. Since Merlin was still under the weather, he had been given the week off. The prince had expected the morron to spend the time with Gaius and work on getting over his sickness. Instead, he was currently heading out of the city on horseback without even a cloak!

Arthur knew just how much trouble the boy could get into when left to his own devices. That was why he was saddling his own horse. Unlike Merlin, Arthur had packed warm clothing, a few blankets, and food. Merlin had only taken a small satchel with him. Arthur shook his head at his manservant's simpleness.

It didn't take long to find Merlin's trail in the freshly fallen snow. It took a moment, but it finally dawned on the royal where the servant was heading. He was going home for the holiday. Arthur now understood why Merlin was doing this, but it didn't mean the buffoon was any less like to get himself injured or sick again. So Arthur continued following him.

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Merlin set up camp that night in a cave, well protected from the elements. Arthur found a yew thicket within sight of Merlin's camp and settled in for the night. Though, without a fire.

Some time in the night, Arthur woke to the sound of Merlin's harsh coughing. Snatching up one of his blankets, he snuck into Merlin's cave. The boy was asleep, but his breathing was harsh and he was shivering violently. The fire had all but gone out and the thin cloth the servant was using as a blanket had fallen off of his bony frame.

Without waking Merlin, Arthur built the fire back up and replaced the threadbare sheet with his own thick blanket. As he draped the cover over the sleeping servant, he realized just how skinny Merlin was.

Arthur knew that during the worst of his illness that Merlin had been unable to keep food down, but this was more than that. There wasn't an ounce of fat on the lad and hardly any muscle. How the boy had lasted all day on horseback in his state was a mystery to the prince.

After a quick glance around the cave, Arthur headed back to the thicket to bed down with his horse warmth.

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It was midmorning when Merlin reached Ealdor. Arthur had been hard pressed to keep up with Merlin's pace. The idiot had gotten up before dawn and was nearly ready to set off by the time Arthur stirred. It had been a hard ride but Arthur was glad to see that Merlin had made it home safe.

From the treeline, the prince watch Merlin interact with the other villagers. Most of the adult's ignored him while the children flocked to him. Merlin had on one of his biggest smiles when he pulled a loaf of over cooked bread out of his bag and distributed it amongst the little ones.

The loaf would have been one of those discarded by the kitchens in Camelot, but here it seemed to be a treat. The happiness and thankfulness on those children's faces was a sight to behold. All seemed fine until one of the older boys took one of the smaller boy's bread.

Merlin's cheerful face turned cold at the sight. From where he was hiding, Arthur could just hear what was said.

"Sammy! Dat is my piece! Merwin dave it toos me!" The child couldn't have been any older than three.

"Bastards don't get nice treats like this, Tal. Remember that." The older boy tried to walk off, but was stopped by an angry Merlin.

"Sampson, give Tal his bread back." Merlin's voice was more authoritative than Arthur had ever heard it.

"He don't deserve it. Why should good bread by wasted on that piece of trash?" The boy clearly missed the fury in Merlin's eyes.

"If he doesn't deserve it then neither do you."

"I ain't no bastard." The boy seemed to think that justified the theft of the younger boy's bread.

'Well I am. Now give Tal back his bread. Now." Merlin's voice was cold and dangerous. The boy finally seemed to understand just how much trouble he was in.

From the woods, Arthur stared dumbly. He hadn't known that about Merlin. It explained why he was willing to put up with all the jobs and tasks Arthur gave him.

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts as the boy handed the chunk of bread to Merlin and fled.

"Here you go Tal. You had better take that home to your mother before someone else tries to take it." Merlin was kneeling in front of the teary eyes tot.

"Did your taddy die wike mine?" The wet green eyes were full of hope as he nibbled on the edge of the bread.

"Yes and no. Mine fled the king. He died last year, only a day after I met him." Now there were tears in Merlin's eyes too.

"Was him a nice man?" Merlin nodded sadly.

"That's enough questions. Get that food home and I will see about getting some more, alright?" As he said this he climbed to his feet and smiled down at the boy.

"Mowe?! You muss wive wike a pwince!" Merlin chuckled softly at that.

"That loaf was what the cook in Camelot was going to give to the pigs, so she gave it to me when I told her I was coming here." The child's wide eyes grew even bigger.

"If this is bad bwead, how dood is the dood bwead?!" Merlin laughed.

"If I ever get to taste it, I will let you know. Now go!" This time, Merlin pushed the boy towards one of the homes.

As the boy ran into the house he called out, "Tank ou Merwin!"

No sooner did the hut door shut than Merlin had a coughing fit. He stood there shaking as the coughs seemed too wet for Arthur's liking ripped through him.

"Merlin! Are you alright? I wasn't expecting you to visit me before spring!" Arthur turned to see the servant's mother rush forward.

"Hello *cough* mum. *cough*" Her face creased with concern as she rubbed patted his back lightly. Her other hand soon rested on the boy's forehead.

"Gods, Merlin! You're feverish! You should be in bed resting, not riding out here in the cold. Come on, I have soup on the fire." With that said, she led her son into her home.

From his spot in the trees, the prince of Camelot debated with himself as to whether or not to listen in on what was being said in Merlin's cottage. At first he decided to head back to Camelot, but after a few minutes of leading his horse back, his curiosity got the better of him. Swiftly and silently, Arthur ran to the back of Merlin home and leaned beside the shuttered window.

"Lay down. You are going to make yourself worse if you keep this up." Hunith's tone was a mixture of worry and command.

"But I can't take your bed! I can sleep just as well in my old spot." Merlin's voice was rough and scratchy.

"Bael Merlin Snow! You will lay down on that bed right now and stay warm, or so help me I will sit out in the cold until you feel guilty enough to do as you are told!" Arthur eyebrows rose in surprise. Merlin wasn't his real name? Arthur shook the questions about that from his mind and listened harder.

"Yes ma'am" The sheepish tone of Merlin's voice spoke of a deep and embarrassed blush.

Arthur smirked at the thought. If someone uses your full name, you had better listen to them.

"Merlin? Where did you get such a thick blanket? I thought you were still saving up you money to get a new." Again, Arthur was taken aback by the new information.

"I am. I went to sleep with my old one and woke to this. I don't know how it happened." The roughness of Merlin's voice was getting worse.

"So you didn't…"

"No! You know I wouldn't do that." Arthur really wished Merlin had let his mother finish sentence so he could understand what they were talking about.

"I was just making sure. Things like this have a habit of happening when you get ill. Now go to sleep. And if you still have that fever when you wake up, I may not let you get up for the bonfire." Arthur couldn't see what was happening, but he swore he heard sobbing.

"Shh… It's fine. I forgot about that. Shh… Come here baby." Arthur was confused. Why was Merlin crying?

"It was all my fault! *cough* He would still be alive if it wasn't for me." Merlin's words were muffled, like due to being in his mother's arms.

"Oh my sweet child, he died protecting you. He wanted to protect the son he had never known he had. It was his choice." Her words soothing, but laced with pain.

"If I hadn't let Kilgharrah go, he would still be alive." Arthur's chest tightened at the sorrow in Merlin's voice.

"And if you hadn't freed that blood dragon, you would have lost me. Life is never fair Bael, and your father understood that." Arthur's mind froze. Merlin had released the Dragon?!

Merlin laughed bitterly. "I am a monster. I let the Great Dragon go knowing full well what he was capable of. That action lead to Balinor dying in my arms, many of the knights and people in the town getting killed, and almost getting Arthur killed, twice. Only a monster could do that and still let Kilgharrah live." Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Oh my poor baby. Being born with this power does not make you a monster. Never think that. No one else does, so neither should you." Arthur was not sure what to think.

Part of him was screaming that Merlin was anything but a monster while another wanted to kill the boy for all the pain he caused. But it was pity that won out in the end. Merlin had been his rock since Morgana's abduction, but Arthur hadn't even noticed Merlin's pain for the past year. How do you spend every waking hour with someone and not notice something like this?

Arthur was pulled from his thoughts by a series of deep and vicious coughs followed by a loud thump. "Merlin! Baby? Wake up! Merlin!?"

Arthur abandoned his hiding spot and rushed into the house to see Hunith leaning over the shivering form of his manservant on the floor in the middle of the hut. As he came forward, Hunith jerked in surprise.

"Sire! What -" She would have continued but Merlin began coughing again.

Arthur scooped up his dangerously light servant and laid him in the bed. As Hunith wiped away sweat and saliva, Arthur draped the thick cover over the trembling body in the bed. As he looked at the stubborn idiot who had become his friend, Arthur realized that he didn't care that Merlin was a Dragonlord. He just wanted his friend to be safe and healthy.

"S-Sire. He… He would never hurt anyone, not intentionally. Please don't arrest him." The fear in her voice cut the prince's heart to shreds.

"Hunith, I followed him here because he was still sick. I can't blame him for wanting to keep you safe. Finding out he is a Dragonlord surprised me, but I would never blame him for something that was given to him through his father's death." Arthur watched as confusion and relief replaced the fear and worry on her face.

Her eyes grew wide suddenly. "You gave him the blanket…"

Arthur nodded and gently pushed Merlin's damp bangs away from his eyes.

"HeisnotjustaDragonlord!" Arthur paused at the implication of her short outburst.

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The next morning, Merlin woke to the smell of pork. As he tried to get up, realized he was too tired to even move. That was when he noticed that he was warm. Not the kind of warmth the house usually provided by keeping out the worst of the cold, this was actual heat.

From where he was stuck for the time being, Merlin glanced about. From here, Merlin could see that his mysterious blanket had multiplied into three covers. He could just make out the the pile of firewood on the opposite wall from this spot and it was much larger than it had been during lunch. What was going on?

"You missed the bonfire last night." Slowly, Merlin was able to turn his head to see his mother holding a steaming bowl in her hand.

"What *cough* hap- *cough*-pened?" Merlin did not miss the joyous gleam in his mother's eyes.

"You passed out and then the Spirit of arrived. You were given blankets and fuel for the fire, I was given meat, wine, and peace of mind." As she spoke, she propped her son up and made him eat every bit of the thick meaty stew she had made for him.

When she was finally happy with the amount he had kept down around his bouts of hacking his lungs out, she let him speak. "Mum? *cough* Who brought *cough* all of this? And don't *cough* say Saint Stephen, he died *cough* centuries ago."

Hunith shushed him softly as she rubbed his back and lowered him back down to the bed. "I said it was his spirit, not the man himself. Now get some rest."

If Merlin's body would have let him, he would have protested. Instead, it betrayed him and he was soon fast asleep.

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When Arthur returned from the well, he heard Merlin and Hunith talking. He stood outside and listened to them, well mostly he was listening to Merlin's vicious coughs. He sounded terrible, but Hunith assured him that Merlin would be fine as long as he stayed warm and ate something.

That was why Arthur had cut enough wood to last the woman for weeks, killed a deer, and had gone to the well, all since the sun had begun to light the sky. He usually would not have been awake that early, but not sleeping will have that effect. It hadn't been the hard floor that kept him awake, nor Merlin's vicious coughing, it had been the stories Huith had told him about Merlin before he had come to Camelot.

If some of what the kind woman had said had not been backed up by letters written in Merlin's handwriting, Arthur would never have believed the things his friend had gotten into in the city. Seriously though, who would have believed sweet, goofy Merlin would have killed a High Priestess like Nimueh or defeated Cornelius Sigan? But what affected the prince the most was the boy's regret at hurting two wicked and powerful sorcerers.

Merlin was clearly still the same person he had known for over two years, but at the same time, he was nothing like what the prince thought. Merlin was an intelligent idiot, a courageous coward, and a softhearted soldier. Merlin was also the only true friend Arthur had ever had.

Just as Arthur was beginning to get lost in his thoughts, Hunith opened the door with a smile and pulled him in.

Merlin was sleeping soundly in the bed under a mound of blankets, with only his messy hair visible from where the prince was standing.

"How is he?" Arthur tried not to sound overly concerned, but he obviously failed if Hunith's knowing smile was any indication.

"He will be fine. He ate an entire bowl of stew and then some. He is lucky to have a friend like you, sire." As Arthur opened his mouth to protest, Hunith pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

It was then that Arthur noticed Merlin shifting in the bed. Arthur allowed the woman to pull him outside to finish their conversation.

"Arthur, I know you have been taught to hide it, but is clear by your actions that you care about Merlin as friend would. My son has only ever had a handful of friends in his life, and none of them would have followed him as far as you did and help in the ways you have. So, Thank you." She then wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.

After a second of shock, the prince returned the gesture. "It is I who should thank you. Without your son I would still be the arrogant prat that I once was or even dead. I am just returning the favor."

Hunith pulled back from the hug, much to Arthur's dismay, and smiled softly at him. "You two were destined for this. The two of you are closer to brothers than friends, which almost makes you my son too. With that said, I think you need to go home before your father sends out search parties."

As the prince began to protest, she once again quieted him with a finger. "I will make sure Merlin gets back to Camelot safely."

She pulled him back into a quick hug before rushing into the house and returning with his pack and one of the blankets they had removed from Merlin's pile as he had warmed up. "Go home. Your brother will be back soon."

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AN: I plan on posting a second chapter before the New Year. I hope you enjoyed this. I got the inspiration from the song Good King Wenceslas.