The day had been perfect, it had been my birthday after all. And what girl doesn't thing that a feast for her thirteenth birthday is perfect? King Uther brought me a girl, Gwen, to be my maid. He said I was too old for a nurse now. Arthur gave me a little wooden horse he had carved himself and it now stands proudly by my bed. I can just barely see it, silhouetted against the window.
Oh, why could the night have been as perfect as the day?! But of course the nightmares came. They are not usually so bad, but tonight, every time I close my eyes, I see men lying across fields in bloody ruin, fires consuming villages and a scrawny little boy, with a mop of black hair, running through a forest. They frighten me and I cannot sleep.
There must have been a click as the door opened. The floor must have made some noise as feet padded across to my bed. But I did not hear them over my tears. Suddenly there's a hand on my shoulder, rubbing soothing circles across my back and a voice whispering in my ear. I gulp my sobs down and wipe my face, turning over to find Arthur standing next to my bed. He looks so pale and vulnerable in his night clothes. He looks rather skinny too, but I know that his small frame hides a wiry strength and steely resolve that passes boys older than his eleven years.
"Arthur?" I whisper.
"You're crying. I came to see if you were alright." He moves across the room to poke at the fire and soon has it back to a crackling blaze that fills the room with flickering light. I sit up, pulling the blankets around my shoulders as I shiver despite the warm fire.
Unbidden, the faces of the dead men and the little boy return to my mind and I start to cry again, trying my best to stifle the sound.
But Arthur hears and comes running back to me. "What's wrong? Please stop crying, Morgana, please?" He climbs up onto the bed, patting me awkwardly on the back as I lay my head on his shoulder.
"The nightmares are so horrible, Arthur," I sob. "All those dead men. Everything's so bloody. And that poor boy. Someone was chasing him. I tried to tell him to go faster but I couldn't speak." I moan as I remember his face, white with fear. ""Run, Merlin, run'. But I couldn't say it."
"It was just a dream, Morgana." Arthur pulls me from the bed to sit before the fire, but despite the blankets he wraps around the both of us I can't get warm.
"He's not a dream. Merlin's real," I whisper fiercely.
"Where is he then? If he needs help we have to find him."
"I-I don't know. I've never met him. Never seen him, except in dreams."
"Then how do you know he's real?" Arthur scowls, clearly thinking I'm being silly. I suppose I am because I honestly don't know but that boy, Merlin, is out there somewhere. So I merely shrug in reply as Arthur pokes at the fire again, sending sparks shooting up the chimney. He's silent for a long moment before he speaks again. "I think you should see Gaius."
"Oh no, not Gaius," I groan. "He'll give me some nasty potion!"
Arthur grins at my distress. "So you'll go see him tomorrow then?"
"No."
"I'll drag you."
Though he's small for eleven, I'm even smaller for thirteen and I know he could easily make good his threat. I sigh and agree to go see the court physician in the morning.
Arthur nods triumphantly and helps me carry the blankets back to my bed. He tucks me in, smoothing out the wrinkles, then stands back and looks at me worriedly. "Will you be alright, Morgana?"
"I'll be fine," I say, knowing the dreams now won't come back till tomorrow night. He nods firmly and leans over to kiss me on the cheek, just as if he were my brother, before walking out the bedroom door.
"Wait, Arthur?" I call just before the door can shut. He pokes his head back around questioningly. "If you ever hear me again," I say quietly. "Will you come back?"
He gives me a small smile. "Of course, Morgana." And with a final click, the door closes behind him. But I'll be fine.