FIC: Icy (Merlin/Arthur - 1680 - G)

[winter-mod.livejournal.com]

Title: Icy
Author/Artist: ???
Pairing(s): Merlin/Arthur
Prompt: my own
Word Count/Art Medium: 1680
Rating: G
Contains (Highlight to view): *Fluff and h/c*
Disclaimer: Merlin characters are the property of Shine and BBC. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Thank you for letting me play again! I love this fest! Thanks to my trusty beta, who always does stuff on short notice even though she actually does have a life, too! Love you, hon! Have a great winter everyone and wonderful holidays, whatever you might celebrate!
Summary: Arthur slips on the ice on some stupid dumbass's footwalk

(Icy)



Arthur couldn't get the frown off his face. First, this stupid meeting had taken hours without reaching the desired result, then it had started raining and on top of it, someone had sent his driver home before he was done. The busses had stopped running and because of that, he would have had to wait for a taxi an unacceptable long time, so he tried to reach the train station by foot. The trains would have no issue with a bit of black ice, would they?

He just wasn't dressed for the weather. Usually, he didn't need to. His driver waited for him when he left the house and at the end of the work day, he waited for him in the parking garage that was underneath the building, so there was no need to bundle up as if he was on a trip to the North Pole. His fine Italian leather shoes didn't have any grip on the mostly icy sidewalks, so his endeavour to reach the train station was a bit more difficult than he had expected.

Some parts of the sidewalks were kept ice-free as well as it was possible, others were slippery as anything. As he was walking along, umbrella in one hand, his briefcase in the other, he noticed a man in a bright blue winter coat and a beanie pulled down to his eyebrows coming down the stairs of his house, holding a snow shovel and a little sack that was probably road-salt or something. Was about time that this slob cleared the foot-walk!

"Hi! You better be careful, I just came home and didn't have time to salt the sidewalk yet!"

The man had a friendly, deep voice and for a split second, Arthur was so distracted by it that he didn't watch where he was going. His smooth and already wet leather soles slipped and sent him tumbling. He would forever deny that he let out a very undignified yell.

He heard another yell and some clattering and the man in the blue jacket was at his side.

"Are you alright? Does anything hurt?"

Just my pride, Arthur thought, but sent the man one of his darkest looks. "You should pay someone to do this if you can't be here when needed."

"Did you hit your head?"

"No. I said..."

The man grinned at him. "I heard what you said. Can you get up?" He held out his hands and tried to pull Arthur up.

Yelling out in pain, Arthur slumped against the man.

"What is it?"

"My ankle. I think I broke my ankle. You better call an ambulance."

"Let me take a look at it. Come on in." The man gestured towards his house.

Arthur threw the house a look and then the man and then the house again. He wouldn't be able to walk anywhere in his state. Even though his ankle most likely wasn't broken, it hurt like hell. Could he risk going into a total stranger's house? "Take a look at it?"

The bloke had gathered Arthur's umbrella and briefcase and helped him over to the stairs. "I'm..." He grunted as Arthur leaned on him heavily as he tried to hop up the steps on one foot. "I'm a nurse. I know a thing or two about fractures."

He managed to get Arthur into a tiny living room and stripped him of his wet and dirty coat. "Let me get you some towels and...maybe my sweatpants will fit you?"

Before Arthur could object and tell him that no, he would just call a taxi and leave in no time, the man had already run up the stairs. He returned with sweatpants that looked a bit too small, a t-shirt that was probably too tight and a very baggy zipped hoodie that had seen better days. Arthur just stared at the clothes. There were mere rags.

"Come on, get changed. You're wet and dirty and probably cold. Get out of your things and wear this and then we'll look at your foot. Do you want to wash up? I'll help you to the bathroom!"

"No, there's no need..."

"There is. If you sit on this couch in your clothes, you'll make it all dirty."

"Would serve you right, it was your fault that I fell."

"If I hadn't been out there, you might still be lying there. Frozen to the ground." Without much ado, the man reached over and tried to strip him off his clothes.

"Hey! I can do that on my own!"

"Well, then do it!" The blue eyes underneath the beanie sparkled. "I'll get you a bowl of water, so you can at least wash your hands."

While he was gone, Arthur carefully undressed and put the rags on as quickly as possible. Damn, his ankle hurt. And his feet were cold. Slowly, he sat down on the couch and arranged his foot up on the seat. That was better.

The man came back with a bowl of warm water and more towels. Arthur had just wiped his hands on his dress pants - they were ruined anyway - but he was surprised when the guy started to wash them with a cloth. He was surprisingly gentle. Maybe he had spoken the truth and he was a nurse?

"Better?" The man grinned and only then took his jacket off.

"Yes, tha..." As the other pulled the beanie off his head, Arthur just stared.

"They're called ears. Everybody has them." A bit self-consciously, the man ran a hand through his hair in an attempt to cover his ears.

"No...yes, I mean...I apologize, I didn't mean to stare." His friends told him for years that he had a thing for sticking-out ears. This man's were huge.

"Alright. Let's look at your foot."

"Can't we...can't we call an ambulance?" This man was still a stranger and this place was alien to him, but somehow he felt a bit reluctant about the thought of leaving.

"In this weather, they'll only come out for emergencies. You're still breathing and conscious, so..." He shrugged and then produced a little first aid kit and pulled on a pair of disposable gloves. Before Arthur could protest, he examined the ankle. "Just as I thought."

"What? Broken?"

"I don't think so. I'll put on a bandage with a salve. I'd like to put an ice pack on it as well, to prevent swelling, but your feet are icy enough." As he spoke, he quickly applied the bandage with practiced moves. "Let me get your some thick socks and then I'll make a tea. I can give the hospital a ring to arrange for an X-ray."

"But you said nothing's broken."

"No, but I'm not a doctor." The man grinned widely and then got up.

When he came back, he had two mugs of steaming hot tea in his hands. He set them down on the coffee table and then pulled a pair of hand-knitted socks out of the pocket of his jeans. "Here you go. Your feet will be warm in no time!"

It was a bit embarrassing that someone else put socks on him, but it felt nice, too. Arthur never had hand-knitted socks. He had always seen something like that as beneath him, but he had to admit that they warmed up his feet.

"Listen...I should call for someone to pick me up. I can't..."

"Do you have anyone who can take care of you at home? You shouldn't spend the night alone."

"Why? It's just the ankle and..."

"You might have hit your head without even really noticing. Someone needs to keep an eye on you. So...who is waiting for you?"

It was a rather personal question, asked in such a professional tone of voice that Arthur suspected the nurse was talking to him. "Err..." His answering machine was always waiting for him, some emails, the mail, probably a movie. He shook his head slightly.

"See, that's why you are going to stay right here." The man beamed again.

"I can't expect you to check on me during the night while I camp out on your couch." He should go home, but somehow this place was cozy, something he never had in his own place that looked like a model apartment from some Nicer Living magazine.

"Well, you slipped on my footwalk, you can as well sleep on my couch."

Arthur knew he should be furious. He had slipped on the footwalk because this man hadn't done his civic duties. He was injured and should sue the hell out of him. But the cheeryness in the man's voice and the wide smile dissolved his anger. "Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure. I'll cook something later and then we can watch a movie. I'm Merlin, by the way."

"Arthur," Arthur offered. "You...cook?"

"Contrary to you posh gits, normal people can't go out for dinner all the time. And trust me, when the only other alternative is the hospital's cafeteria, you learn how to cook for yourself very quickly."

While the man rummaged in the kitchen across the small hallway a while later, Arthur looked around. There was a small Christmas tree in the corner, still in its net, probably just brought in that very day, some candles on the window sill and a collection of rather kitschy Santas on a shelf that was loaded with books. None of the furniture matched, it all looked like it had a previous owner or two, but somehow it didn't matter.

Over dinner, which was a simple pasta dish but the best Arthur ever had, they talked and Arthur found himself laughing at Merlin's jokes and enjoying the banter. It almost felt as if they had known each other for ages.

Merlin made more tea and when he came back, he held out Arthur's mobile. "This was making noises when I passed by your coat. It might be urgent."

Arthur reached for it. He had several texts from his sister, asking for his whereabouts.

Don't worry, I'm at a friend's.

He looked up and smiled at Merlin.