Title: The Crístesmæsse Miracle

Category: Het (Canon AU)

Characters/Pairings: Merlin, Morgana, Frosty the Snowman (OC)/Mergana

Rating/Warnings: T/...a little steamy :3

Summary: What happens when Morgana holds a snowman hostage for information about Camelot but someone intervenes with her scheme? 

Notes: Okay, first and foremost I would like to thank MadameMorganLeFay for betaing this. She actually did the impossible and made me write drafts. This oneshot wouldn't even be half of what it is now without her, so she deserves at least half the credit for being the beta queen.  The inspiration was off of Wilma's wallpaper she made for ArthurianDream on the Heart of Camelot. Lastly, this is for everyone on HoC. 

Morgana smirked, swinging the torch dangerously close to the ground that was covered in white snow, and she whispered a spell. "Bring this object to life," she breathed, and her eyes flashed gold. The snow looked remarkably like a man, and it was confirmed when the mysterious shape seemed to sigh and it's (or even his) coal black eyes blinked open owlishly. She smirked in delight.

Oh yessss, this is going perfectly. Morgana rejoiced in sadistic glee. 

"Happy Birthday!" the snowman greeted her enthusiastically. It was Morgana's turn to blink, and she scowled too; it wasn't her birthday and besides, she hated December intensely- there was far too much cheer and happiness for her liking. The High Priestess was far more accustomed to a dark, dreary and desolate atmosphere- the complete opposite of the brightness and cheerfulness of the winter holiday season. 

The snowman's eyes widened, as if he was realizing something. He was, of course, but she wasn't to know that and, indeed, Morgana frowned in puzzlement, how did the snowman recognize her? He was only a talking blob of snow, with no true memories or name, why-- he didn't even have a heart! 

"My name is Frosty!" he informed her bluntly.

Morgana rolled her eyes in exasperation. She did not have time for games, no matter how amusing they might be. "Shut up," she snapped and the snowman looked affronted. "I don't have time for this. Tell me where Saint Nicholas is. Now. He is the most feared sorcerer in the five kingdoms, and his power will certainly be a great help in my quest for the throne of Camelot." She commanded, her eyes becoming darker at the mention of the famed kingdom. 

"Doesn't the throne of Camelot belong to...Arthur?" the snowman, Frosty, squeaked, quivering like there was no tomorrow. 

Morgana's eyes burst into flames. "KING ARTHUR!?!?" she screeched and took a menacing step closer to the snowman, whose eyes widened at the apparently enraged sorceress. "KING ARTHUR?" She waved the torch threateningly close to him and a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, "I would melt you right on the spot for that blatant lie if I did not happen to need your help! Arthur is no more fit to be King than you are to be a man! Arthur is an imposter! Uther waived my right to the throne, for his son Arthur who refuses to let my kin to be free! For too long my kind have suffered at the hand of father and son! Our father is long dead by now, and yet Arthur still follows his laws when he is the king! He should know by now that not everything is black and white! Saint Nicholas will help me punish those responsible for the reign of terror inflicted and propagated by Arthur Pendragon! I repeat, take me to him!" She finished her mini-rant with a growl, her eyes flashing gold and a blaze leapt up into the air

Morgana felt all of her pent-up frustration and boiling anger leave her as she explained why she wanted the throne. She had at one time believed that Arthur would be the one to put an end to Uther's reign of tyranny, that he would be the one to end the long years of persecution and despair for her kind, and to bring about the golden age of Albion that she had so longed for. Unfortunately, he had turned out to be exactly like a dog on a leash, still following their father's ways. The funny thing was that Arthur had shown time and time again that he was his own man, in every form, state and right. Even better yet was the sword he used obviously contained some unnatural power— and yet he still failed to notice this, or perhaps he choose to turn a blind eye on it-- maybe to protect his friend, Merlin, who had been the one to show him the sword in the first place. 

Arthur really had much to learn about governing a kingdom, and the fact that he ruled by emotions had not helped him. Take, for example, Arthur's tragic soft-heartedness-- Agravaine had been a case in the point. The King couldn't see that his Uncle had been betraying him for so long when even Merlin had, let alone all those other times when Merlin had tried to reason with him; Arthur had refused to believe his manservant- his best friend, the only man he claimed to trust- until it was almost too late. Well, Agravaine was dead now, thanks to Merlin, the meddlesome serving boy that had foiled every single scheme of hers, and she would never forgive Merlin for that. Nevertheless such ignorance was going to get him killed, one day, especially regarding Merlin, who was obviously a strong sorcerer; really, it was hard not to notice the magic that seemed to practically live around him, that coupled with all the times that he defeated her and her allies... she would never understand how he believed that she had missed it, but then she supposed that it was arrogance that had caused the change in him. She felt a flash of sorrow for the naïve, selfless manservant that he had once been, and Morgana wondered how everything had turned out this way, with her known as the evil, power hungry sorceress, Arthur as the compassionate king and Merlin... he wasn't really known in the first place, he never got recognition. 

Ironically, despite the good he was doing, he still could not reveal his magic to the known world—and she knew there was much more than just Albion, the Romans for example and the Chinese she had met, even a few Greeks although they had fallen from grace and power. She would free magic and everything will go back to how it was like in the old days when magic had been free and its peoples and the mundane would live in an age of peace. She would even give Arthur a second chance, mostly just to prove to him that magic itself was not evil, it was the means that one uses it that matters, like fire. Fire could drive away the cold with its warmth, and provide food and life to people, yet it could also bring about destruction and take life away.

Frosty inhaled sharply as he eyed the fire warily and then he looked back at her in confusion. "Santa Claus?" he questioned sharply and Morgana huffed. "But why would I take you to him? No offense or anything, but you look like you're almost half insane, which I don't doubt-- and besides, why should I help you? How do I know that you're not the one lying and that Arthur is the true king? Perhaps I'll just go to him and ask for his side of his story before I agree to anything; actually, that is a good idea. Besides, who's Uther?"

She needed help, and the snowman was the only person who knew where Saint Nicholas lived; the powerful sorcerer that could bring even the dead back to life, although he refused because it was a horrible act. Morgana agreed with him, the dead deserved rest, and that was the one thing she had disagreed on with Morgause. Exhaling heavily so that she would not antagonize the one person (thing?) that held the key to her success, she calmly stated, "I'll forgive that one offense." She paused then smirked briefly at the feeling of victory that was nearing. "Now, tell me where 'Santa Claus' is. Or I will have to melt you." She waved the torch threateningly close to the snowman, which backed up nervously, holding his hands up meekly in surrender. Or perhaps he was showing that he wasn't guilty. She didn't care, such trivial things didn't matter.

"Listen, lady, I am a Snowman, not an elf. I don't know where Santa lives!" The snowman cried fearfully, trying to get her to see sense.

"Nonsense!" she hissed in fury, "All wintery things know where Saint Nicholas lives! Besides, he is the most powerful sorcerer to ever live; he can raze castles and raise armies of the dead! He even fought Cornelius Sigan and survived! Besides, he's got the ability to bring children to instantly trust him..." Her eyes flashed and suddenly the Snowman was chained to the wall. His eyes widened with shock and fear as she smiled almost serenely at him, an abrupt contrast from her anger. He tried to make himself as small as he could, which didn't help much. "Now," she murmured sweetly. "Hear, snowman!" Her eyes flashed, not with magic, but with insanity. "You will tell me 'Santa's' secret location... this I am sure of." 

The snowman gulped and opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly someone came running into the clearing, tackling Morgana to the ground. She and the unknown figure grappled with each other for a few moments, both of them letting out soft exclamations and ending up getting into several... interesting positions before she somehow ended up on top of him, her chest heaving as she fought for air and the other person stared back up at her with strangely exasperated eyes. 

She looked down at the person who had stopped her; her eyes widened with shock and then they narrowed in fury as she realized who the person who had almost overpowered her was. Him, again! Why is it always him!? How dare he interfere with her plans- again!? "Merlin," she hissed the name out as if it was poison, "You meddlesome serving boy!" 

Merlin cocked an eyebrow at her and grinned almost impishly. She frowned as she straddled him; he wasn't supposed to be happy. He was supposed to be fearful and angry, pleading for her to let go of him and to stop her evil schemes. Of course, he never had done that. Well, he had never been fearful of her, angry yes, and he had pleaded with her to stop her schemes before, but never afraid. 

"I believe I have passed the term 'boy' about four years ago, Morgana." He stated cheerfully, as if she was not on top of him and pining him down in a very intimate position. She glared at him, reached up to pull down her hood and she leaned down so that she could look at him directly in the eyes. Or glare at him. She watched as he gulped slightly and she leaned down even more so that their noses touched and they breathed in sync, his chest rising with hers. Her lips were just a hair away from his. 

"I hate you." She growled and her eyes were like icy daggers. Or so she hoped. Merlin gazed right back up at her fearlessly and she just wanted to claw his eyes out right there and then, so that she wouldn't have to stare at those deep stormy orbs that seemed to gaze into her very soul, as if he could see right through her and he saw everything that made her Morgana Pendragon. 

"As if you had never made that clear enough," Merlin quipped with an impertinent smile. 

She groaned, shifting slightly backwards, why did he always have to come in and ruin everything? The sound of her exasperated groan made Merlin shiver slightly-- to the outside world, it would have been barely noticeable, but Morgana saw it and she was slightly confused.

"You still..." she murmured thoughtfully, and then she smirked slightly, the ever present smirk that she refused to let go because that was the only stable thing in her ever changing world. That, and Merlin always being there in some way or another. In the old days, he had always been supportive of her, now, he appeared only to interfere. Yet, as she pondered on him still being attracted to her, she realized that he had never really left her... ever. Merlin breathed out, his chest and stomach tensing slightly. She wondered what it would look like if she took his shirt off, and then forced the idle (but exciting) idea out of her head. She didn't have the time for such... insignificant thoughts. She tilted her head and she smirked slightly, gently running her hands up his chest nonchalantly so that she could cup his face in between her hands. 

"Why?" She whispered trying to sound nonchalant, but she feared that it might not sound that way, she sounded sad to her own ears. "I would have thought you would have found someone else by now. What would Arthur say?" She tried to joke but Merlin's eyes narrowed at her, as if he was angry and she suddenly remembered that he was a strong sorcerer of some kind. She missed the sudden almost beastlike need rise in his eyes, but what she did notice was that his lips had slammed against hers and that he had lurched up so that she had fallen back slightly, and the fact that he would not let go of her as he wrapped his arms around her. She gasped, surprised at the almost brutal passion, because this was definitely not Merlin, he would never kiss anyone like this, of course he would have never poisoned her so she supposed that it was possible... She was drawn out of musings and she pushed her hands against his chest, trying to get him away from her as she fought him almost savagely as her own nearly forgotten feeling rose in her, she could not surrender-- she just couldn't! She was an unfeeling sorceress who was supposed to not be kissing manservants who betray-- Morgana threw caution to the wind and surrendered to her lust. She quickly removed her hands from his chest and she entwined her fingers in his hair, sitting up-- which was funny because she didn't remember falling back onto the ground, let alone the fact that he was on top of her-- bringing him up with her as she wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt her throat burn and she felt tears sting her eyes, but she pushed them roughly back as she pushed herself closer to him. 

Suddenly, he broke free with a sharp gasp and she felt a surge of disappointment as she stared at him, the disappointment was not at him, it was at herself. Why did she do it? Morgana had no idea, every time she was close to his presence she just wanted to lose all logical reasoning and to just sha-- she pushed the naughty thoughts away and concentrated on him as he rested his forehead against hers, his hands still on her waist and relaxed. She calmed down as she listened to his wonderfully ragged breathing and she felt his hot breath on her face. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she wondered if he could hear her heart beating as it desperately tried to get out of her body and to intertwine with his-- it was so loud, but then she wondered how she even had a heart-- hadn't she lost it once Morgause had died?

"I am sorry," he whispered hoarsely, his voice almost husky, startling Morgana out of her thoughts. His voice was so guilt ridden that her heart ached; if that was possible-- hadn't she established that the feeling side of her heart was long gone? She had lost her identity, so didn't that mean she had lost her heart? 

"I'm so sorry for... everything, Morgana. I should have done something different." He continued sadly on, blissfully unaware to her catharsis of thoughts and the turmoil that he had just caused in her. Morgana felt tears sting her eyes and she cursed herself for being so weak, but she couldn't do anything but let them fall, and so they did. Why did she have to feel this way? She had abandoned all her feelings toward him-- and why did he kiss her? Wasn't he Arthur's little pet? She refused to listen to the tiny voice saying that he was a man who had many secrets and that his life was not centered on Arthur. She knew him as if he was her soul, her other half. Which, in a way, she supposed it was true.

"You idiot," she mumbled brokenly as the tears streamed down her face and as everything she had believed in fell to the ground tumbling in great torrents of Merlin's soulful stormy blue eyes. Acting on a surge of emotion, her eyes flashed gold and the snowman was released, but she didn't look away from Merlin's expressive eyes. She couldn't, not now when everything was falling and he was the only thing that was stable in her fragile world that had been almost utterly ravaged. "It was my choice, not yours. I choose to walk my own path." She sighed softly and leaned back but she kept her legs around his waist. "I can't undo the past, Merlin, and all that I am now is the evil sorceress, it is what I am and who I am and who I always will be." Although I want that to change, so much... 

"The love that binds us is more important than the power that we wield," Merlin replied, his eyes turning a very slight gold and Morgana stared in awe at him, it was almost as if he had heard her thoughts, which she supposed was possible. "Your destiny can still be changed, Morgana," he whispered desperately, his eyes seeming to stare into her soul. She hesitated, and then her lips crashed on his again, mostly to distract herself from his words, and she sniffled slightly. He really had never changed, grown up, yes, but he had never changed much from the young serving boy he had always been at heart. She removed her lips from his and stared at him in shock, wondering just what happened to her and how he had made her iron will crumble. He smiled sadly at her, opening his eyes which had obviously closed and she felt sorrow fill her again. She watched with wide eyes as he lifted his hand up and cradled her cheek, and on instinct she leaned against his soft touch, shuddering as the explosion of emotions (love, grief, fear, joy and sorrow) hit her, feeling as if she somehow was the old Morgana again. 

He had always been able to do that, even when they were fighting. 

"Nothing is impossible, Morgana," he murmured tiredly and Morgana stared into his eyes, confronted by the sheer emotion (the wisdom!) in his eyes. "You've always got a choice." He smiled slightly at her, small and sad, but real, "To do what is right." 

She wanted to believe him so much, so desperately, but she couldn't afford to be swept off her feet just yet, she needed to be at least somewhat practical. "But what about everyone that I have betrayed back in Camelot? Can I really make amends for all of those times that I tried to kill everyone? I've tried to kill you and Arthur and Gwen and Mordred so many times..." she shook her head, the tears were still spilling out of her eyes and Merlin gently cupped her face in his hands. 

"Ami, Morgana, love, calm down—I can forgive you, can't I? So wouldn't everyone else be able to forgive you?" 

She realized what he had said and instead of soothing her like his intension obviously was, he only made her more hysterical. "Merlin, you're you, no one is as forgiving as you are!" –here she punched his chest, bowing her head as her tears started to cloud her vision—"You're different from everyone else, you magical idiot! You forgive far too easily in the first place and no one is as forgiving as... as..." she couldn't talk anymore, her sobs grew in volume and time and somehow she found herself in his arms. 

"Shh, it's alright, it'll be alright, I promise you. Arthur will see sense eventually, I know he will and Gwen and Mordred will understand, they always will, please Morgana, please don't cry anymore, it'll be alright." He whispered into her ear and although she didn't listen to his words, his voice soothed her and she shifted her arms around so that she was hugging him and that they were holding on to each other. 

"Help me then, please, help me." She pleaded desperately and Morgana buried her head more securely in his shoulder, as if he would block out all the horrors she had seen, or caused. He breathed out heavily and watched the Snowman waddle away.

Huh... I thought he left already. 

"Of course," he whispered, bringing his thoughts back to Earth and to her. "Of course I will," He murmured with more conviction. "You don't even need to ask," He felt her smile slightly against his shoulder and he closed his eyes, a strange sense of peace flooding his heart as he gently kissed her temple, slightly stunned at how quickly she had turned but also relieved and grateful. He should have kissed her sooner if that was what it took to get her to come back to him-- and back to them. "I promise..." he closed his eyes and breathed in her scent, wondering just why he had hated Christmas time so much before.

It was a miracle indeed.