I’m a huge fan of yours – I don’t know if you’re taking prompts rn, but I guess I could just try? idk. The prompt would be “Snow, trickling stream, hayloft”

merlinwyllt:

here you go ❤

Yet Another Sylvan Reverie

In which Arthur outs himself as the worst farmer in Albion and Merlin loves him too much to do anything about it.

(on AO3 here)

* * *

“That’s not where you — good lord, Arthur,” Merlin sighs. Arthur’s appalling agricultural practices are going to make them the laughing stock of the entire village. “The snow’ll melt long before —”

“It’ll keep through the night,” Arthur argues, peering down at Merlin from the edge of the hayloft. The dirt smeared across his chin is adorably rustic; Merlin does his very best to resist smiling at the sight. “And in the morning, it’ll melt directly into the troughs — a trickling stream of freshwater for the horses.” Arthur fancies himself not only a yeoman, but an engineer, too. Merlin would’ve disabused his lover of that notion long ago but the wild cheer on Arthur’s face, present ever since he rushed Merlin out of Camelot in the dead of night, is too precious to sully.

“Haylofts are for storing hay, they’d’ve been called snowlofts otherwise.”

“We haven’t got hay to store yet. I’m only being clever.”

“You’re bored out of your mind, you mean,” Merlin calls. “Come down, love, it’s nearly evening. Dinner’s ready.”

Arthur is silent for a minute. “Up for a roll in the hayloft after?” He grins.

“Can’t believe you thought you needed to ask,” Merlin answers, grinning back.