The clock struck midnight and Arthur wrinkled his nose when the fireworks went off. Merlin smirked and took a sip of his ginger ale.
"I don't get it," Arthur said, arms crossed. "What's the point?"
Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Why we celebrate?"
Arthur nodded his head. "We used to have a reason to celebrate -- a good harvest, something religious, a victory. This doesn't mean anything. So it's a new year; what does it signify?"
Merlin thought about it, trying to remember when the New Year became something to celebrate and if anyone had said why. But it had been some years and he only remembered celebrating it continuously, not the why. "Maybe we ran out of things to celebrate so we just made something up."
Arthur took a deep breath. "That's just..."
"A waste?" Merlin offered. One thing he did remember was not struggling to survive. There was usually food to be had in Camelot, but he knew that it wasn't true everywhere and hadn't been true for most of history for many. He had nearly starved some winters for lack of a good harvest. To be able to set of fireworks for no reason and to have so much food so often was...
Arthur turned off the TV and stretched. Merlin was distracted from his thoughts by a strip of skin from where Arthur's shirt rode up. When he looked away, Arthur was watching him with a smirk. "I've got something better we can celebrate. It isn't a waste at all. Shall I show you?"