Reminiscing Under the Stars

Part 2

(Alright, thanks to those amazing people who asked me to make this longer, I decided to make this a multi-chapter fic. I might extend it into a story, if people like this chapter ;) Anway, thank you so much for your feedback and enjoy!)

"Arthur? You haven't eaten anything, in fact, you've been staring at your plate for almost fifteen minutes straight. Do you want me to take it away?"

The prince shook his head. It wasn't that he wasn't hungry. It was, goodness, he didn't know what. Never had any dreams got him so unnerved, but this one was recurring.

Had been for nearly two weeks.

"No," He said finally, more absentimendedly than anything else, "Just start polishing my armor."

Merlin nodded slightly and crossed the room to pick up Arthur's hauberk. In no time, he was scrubbing at it, but not with the usual vigour he had to put into it to actually get it clean and he let the cloth slip from his slim fingers several times. He wasn't focused, but it was not absentmindedness that caused him to tighten his lips.

No. He was trying to erase the taste of Morgana's.

Yet it was quite far from succesful.

Her touch still lingered there. Her caress on his cheeks still caused the light blush on his high cheekbones. In fact, he could almost swear still smelling the lovely scent of lilac. A scent that he almost immediately associated with beautiful smiles, flawless porcelain skin, bouncing black curls, and stunning green eyes.

Her fragrant perfume.

"It seems you're not entirely yourself either." Arthur commented dryly, bringing Merlin somewhat back to reality.

Merlin shook his head, "Just tired."

But it wasn't that, was it? Perhaps he was a bit tired, yet it wasn't exhaustion that showed most preeminently on his pale face. He was confused, even-

Pained.

Why had Morgana kissed him? It didn't make any sense. Did she want to make him angry? To play on his old feelings?

Perhaps, it could be to anger him. But then, why had her eyes not betrayed the slightest glint of malice? They had been so pure, innocent. No traces of darkness behind those shining green eyes, only genuine happiness. It was such happiness, that it ruled out his suspicion that she'd been simply playing on his feelings. She'd been genuinely glad to see them all, especially him.

Perhaps it was for that reason that Merlin had acted as though nothing had ever changed.

Because he'd never wanted it to change. He'd never wanted to hide the truth from Morgana, he'd never wanted to let her go.

Merlin drew in a deep breath, "Do you want to know the truth?"

Arthur stared dumbly at his manservant over the rim of his goblet, not entirely catching on.

"Why I'm being like this." Merlin elaborated, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice. Arthur could be thick at times.

The prince's face turned quizzical at that, yet he figured he may as well humor Merlin.

"Have you been reading too many ghost stories?"

"Something like that," Merlin admitted, "I've been having these strange dreams."

Arthur's lips twitched slightly, a queer feeling washing over him. That had struck a cord. And now that he looked interested enough, the manservant was prompted to continue.

"You, Gwen, and I were all lying down in an open field at night. We were talking and laughing, enjoying ourselves for what seemed like an eternity. Then, all of a sudden, someone else enters into the clearing."

Arthur straightened up slowly at that and, to Merlin's surprise, did not make a snide comment.

"Morgana," He mumbled suddenly.

Merlin had expected many things, but not that.

"How did you know?"

The prince shook his head, "Please, go on."

"She came and lay down with us, and we began talking together-just like nothing had ever happened. I would've dismissed the dream, but it's been coming up every single night. Same setting, but we always have a different discussion."

"For how long have you had them?" The prince asked.

He did not notice how much of a therapist he sounded like at this moment. One would think Gaius' influence would rub off more on Merlin that him, but he didn't care.

He needed to know.

Merlin shrugged and shook his head, "About two weeks."

...

Gwen stretched slightly in her cot. It was time to go to arise and tend to Uther, yet she had a hard time doing so. It was that confusing dream who was to blame.

Again.

For a full fortnight she'd had the same dream. She couldn't remember a night in which she did not dream it.

She'd been under the stars lying beside her friends. In fact-before Morgana's betrayal-she, Merlin, and Arthur had been closer than any friends she'd ever known.

It felt so strange to see her again. Not only see her, but converse with her and laugh with her just like old times. It felt almost out of place, but strangely refreshing.

After Morgana had summoned the Dorocha and threatened all of their lives, the dream was like a sweetening of the bad blood between her and the citizens of Camelot. A breath of fresh air, a pause from a heart-breaking reality.

It was a shame it had only been a dream, her own imagination making its way back to a happier time.

Guinevere sighed, pulled her long ringlets into a neat array over her back, and made her way towards the castle's main entrance.

She shivered lightly, as a gust of wind managed to blow through the door just before she closed it behind her. It was icy, no doubt, but she shivered more of fear than of the cold.

Habit, perhaps. The days following the Dorocha's passing had been restless, and some were still living in fear even after the terrible creatures had been destroyed. She had the feeling most would never recuperate.

In a short while, Gwen had acquired Uther's breakfast and soon entered the King's chambers. As she slowly closed the door behind her to avoid startling him, Guinevere found Uther sitting up in his bed. His eyes were dull, and his head hung somewhat low, as if his neck no longer had the strength to keep his chin up in the prideful manner he once had. It was heart-breaking to see how far Uther had fallen into this trance-unreachable, distant.

"My lord?" Gwen ventured.

Uther did not move, but Guinevere supposed he had heard. She made her way towards the bed and set the tray on the small table beside him.

She did not bother asking him if he would eat. She had given up on that a long while ago, but she was glad when, in the evening when she would clear away his food trays and prepare him for the night, that some food would be missing from the tray.

Usually it was the chicken and berries that would be missing, and because of that Gwen would bite her lip sadly.

Such foods had always been Morgana's favorite, and no matter how wounded Uther was emotionally, he would never forget the vision of a once loving daughter. Gwen knew he would remember her silken dresses, her favorite foods, her mother's eyes, her love for all the citizens of Camelot. He would cling to the memory of the person she once was, till the day he died.

Gwen bowed to the King now, but as she was turning to leave so that she could get Gaius' potion for the King, a quivery voice stopped her.

"Guinevere."

Gwen froze. Had her ears deceived her? Had King Uther Pendragon just called her by name?

She turned slowly, a bewildered expression on her face.

"My lord?" She rasped.

The King did not look at her, but for once it actually seemed as though he were listening. Taking in a deep, shaky breath, he spoke in a slightly clearer voice.

"The anniversary of my son is tomorrow-"

He paused, and raised his head to meet her eyes, "Is it not?"

Gwen looked open-mouthed, but she managed to speak.

"Yes, sire."

Uther gave an incomprehensible nod of his head, as if expressing his gratitude that she had confirmed it. A nod which a still very confused Gwen took as her cue to leave.

Unable to quite gather her wits just yet, Guinevere gave the King a slightly sloppy curtsy, turned, and made her way out. Once outside the door, she paused to reflect on the strange occurence. What had come over Uther? After all these days and months of silence, had he really just addressed her as calmly as if he were speaking to the sweeter version of Morgana? It was a foreign feeling. As if he'd overlooked the fact she was simply a handmaid, and instead was actually beginning to look her in the eye, instead of down on her. Perhaps, with all that had happened, this broken man had realized the people around him weren't only his subjects, but his friends too, deserving of equal respect? Perhaps, even as insane as it sounded, he was looking for someone who could fill the crater Morgana had left in his heart?

If that was so, who better than Gwen? She was the one who, despite the fact that he'd had her father killed, stayed by him these many months. The one who looked after him, the one who treated him more kindly than any servant's duty was to.

"A substitute?" Gwen asked herself doubtfully.

No, maybe not a substitute, she could never fill her former mistress' place. But maybe this change in the King's attitude was a form of his acceptance. It couldn't be denied that the King had been present when Gwen had wrapped her arms round his son in farewell. Was he-giving his approval? A King's blessing of hers and Arthur's blossoming love?

Guinevere could not imagine-yet truth be told she considered this new man, though having to go through trials, one who had come out kinder and wiser than before.

"Perhaps he really has changed."

And so, as she continued her duties, that thought stuck with her.

"Arthur? I hope I'm not disturbing."

The prince's head turned sharply, and even though his face was now turned away, Merlin could guess a smile had lit up his face.

"Of course," He agreed gently then, turning to Merlin, "Would you give us a moment?"

"Oh no," Gwen assured, "I wanted to speak with the both of you."

Merlin's brow furrowed slightly, but he turned his interests away from his job of folding Arthur's clean laundry and gave Gwen his attention.

Arthur was focused in a moment on her dark, sparkling eyes, and so Gwen spoke of what had been on her mind. Of the dreams, and with each word of confirmation from Gwen's lips, Arthur and Merlin grew quite shaken up.

"It's impossible," Arthur reflected, "How can all three of us have the same reccurring dream?"

"I'll have to ask Gaius," Merlin said, "But I don't think we had anything to do with it. Something else is at work here."

Those words made Gwen's brow wrinkle softly, and Arthur's shoulders tense.

"Magic?" Gwen dared, barely loud enough for the others to hear. Merlin knew that the tone of fear in her voice was out of habit, but still it hurt him.

"It could be."

"But whom?" Arthur asked, protectively grasping Gwen's lightly shaking hand.

The manservant shook his head, but he knew they were likely guessing the same thing.

Morgana.

(Yipee! The next chappie is up! The inspiration for the Gwen and Uther bit was my irritation that he failed to acknowledge her kindness to him in Season 4. Yeah, I get it that he's broken, but come on, Gwen's been looking after him for practically a year-right? The least he could do is thank her! Anyway, I really hope you enjoyed this, and please leave me a fave and follow! Oh, and that review button is calling, so leave me your thoughts there! Thank you all!)