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With the raspy rattles of a crow cawing the clock struck twelve. Outside, the moon hung on the inky sky, its pale silver light fell over the winding lane and the large trees lining it on both sides, their dark skeletal branches pointing toward the mansion. Merlin stood by the tall windows on the second floor, admiring the happenings in the garden below.
Twelve scarecrows of different shapes formed a circle, and right in the middle stood the biggest one. Its garb consisted of a long black cloat, old hat and for a head a pumpkin with a spine-chilling expression. The hands consisted of rubber gloves Morgana probably stole from Gaius' lab. She and Mordred were terribly excited about the bonfire, working hard to make things perfect.
Merlin admired their drive, they'd procured petrol all by themselves. Keeping the family's millennial traditions was important. He was proud of them.
A sharp meow distracted him from the sight of Mordred using his magic to summon nearby bats. He looked down to see a demanding Cattastrophe twine himself around his legs, bumping him with his head. Merlin bent down and picked up the fuzzy black cat.
"You little menace. Where had you ran to?" He asked, sratching it behind its ears, receiving a contented purr in response. "Look, doesn't it look like they're having fun?" Merlin let out a wistful sigh. He remembered his first pyre, clear as if it had been yesterday.
Mordred doused the figures with petrol and Morgana lighted up the fire. One match at a time.
Strong arms came out of nowhere and wrapped around his waist. Merlin's body instinctively relaxed, his head falling back to rest on Arthur's shoulder. Arthur took the opportunity to kiss him, wet and languid. "What are you doing here by your lonesome?" Arthur asked inches away from Merlin's lips.
"Watching the kids wreak havoc," Merlin answered. Arthur made a sound of acknowledgment and set out to kiss and nip at Merlin’s throat and jaw. Hot breath ghosting over his skin. Merlin shivered. Cattastrophe jumped from Merlin's arms right then, affronted by the shift in his attention, permanently jelous of Arthur.
"I was thinking," Merlin began.
"Uh-huh."
"That the bonfire ought to be more--"
"Gloomy?" Arthur guessed, stopping his ministrations but keeping Merlin in his arms.
"Tenebrous," Merlin declared, loving how Arthur knew his innermost desires.
"Grim."
"Ghastly."
"Macabre."
"It needs more--"
"Fire."
Merlin reached for his magic, powerful and deep running from him. The fire outside suddenly began to burn brighter, higher, hotter. Merlin linked his fingers with Arthur's. Both watched the scarecrows burn, smoke and ashes. Embers reflected in Merlin's gaze.
"Do you remember--" Arthur said, gestured to the blaze with his free hand.
Merlin felt something stir in him, licked his lips. "Our wedding night?"
"What a bliss."
Arthur kissed him and carried Merlin back to their room. Merlin magic-proofing the door as soon as it closed.
Down in the garden Morgana and Mordred danced around the fire, invoking dark forces and shouting their battle-cry.