Anne sat under a cherry tree, shaded from the sun. The sun was warm and bright without washing out the vibrant colours of the orchard. The heat helped the fruit trees release their sweet aromas, filling the air with an invisible fruit salad.

She was still within the garden gates and within earshot of the Blacksmith, working away on his sword. She refused to go out and talk to him. Clearly, he was upset with her about something but he was too rude to discuss it.

She opened her new leather-bound book, with blank pages waiting to be branded. The Woman in Red had been very helpful in finding a pen and a shelf lined with books just like this. There were a few labeled 'Story Club', but The Woman in Red recommended leaving them for a few days; they were filled with hysterical romance and tragical heartbreak, in a most comedic fashion. Truly tempting but today, Anne itched to create and not consume.

Anne leaned back on the trunk of the tree and sighed. As much as she would love a good laugh right now, she was determined to appeal to the 'elements' and find her own magic. It had been many days since she had last seen The Prince, and Anne was worried the task of the dragon now rested in her own hands. She hoped he had not been injured by the beast but why else would he be absent?

* clang clang tinker clang *

Anne sighed. She didn't know why it bothered her so much but the Blacksmith's aloof behaviour riled her even more than the Prince's absence. She was torn between wanting his friendship and telling him to shove off.

"Perhaps some lemonade to nourish your imagination?" Anne knew that voice! She looked up and instantly recognised her Nurse, the woman who had cared for her for many years. The Nurse was now standing next to her, offering a drink with a small but warm smile.

Anne jumped up and embraced The Nurse so thoroughly, she almost knocked the older woman off her feet! "Oh, my dearest Nurse! How I have missed you! Where have you been?"

The Nurse looked fondly on the younger woman, making Anne feel like a small child of 11 years filled with hope and love.

"It is hard balancing many different charges but you are all doing so well. Helps me a bit. Now, I'm here to see you. Let's take a look at you."

Anne smiled shyly as The Nurse nodded with approval. "Yes, you seem to be recovering nicely. And you are definitely finding yourself again. Are you happy here, Anne?"

"It is pleasant enough. But it's not my home, is it?"

"No, Anne. You are trying to fill it with people you love, in the hope of making it home but you're not there yet. There are others helping you, taking care of you but essentially, you have to do it yourself." The older woman gently lifted a red curl off Anne's forehead, filled with affection to soften the reality of her words.

"But I don't know what I want anymore. I thought I wanted … well, this! With a big announcement to say 'Yes! You filled the gaping hole in your heart!' But instead, the hole grew bigger. How am I supposed to know when it's real? There were no lightning bolts or town criers to declare my love. I was at least expecting an Earth-shattering kaboom! Where was my earth-shattering kaboom?!"

The Nurse only smiled. "Well, the earth shattered when I was told you were here all alone. I know that's not the positive sparkle you were expecting but my earth shattered. Because I love you and I thought I had lost you."

Anne gasped, her tears filling with raw emotion. "Oh, Nurse! I am sooo sorry!" Anne fell into the Nurse's arms as they wept. "Yes, yes! It's like when … Matthew passed away. It was so hard to piece our world back together. I didn't realise how much I missed him until he was gone."

Nurse smoothed Anne's hair and said, "Now that sounds like love. And you didn't need a formal announcement to know that!"

"No. You're right."

The Nurse stood up. "I'm going to go make us some lunch. Why don't you get back to your writing and I'll bring our food out here for a picnic?"

"That would be lovely, thank you. Oh, and Nurse?"

The Nurse turned back to Anne. "Yes, dear?"

"Do you think my writing is a good idea?"

The Nurse smiled again. "Why, Anne. If it is what you want to do, then who am I to tell you? I support whatever dreams you have for you. I just want whatever you want in life. That's what love is."

Gilbert was determined to make this as normal as possible. Despite Anne's continuing "sleep" and complete unawareness to anything else, her friends were there—either in person or through their letters of support.

It had been a month since Gilbert had returned to Redmond. Routine had been his saviour, as the workload had landed swiftly on his desk. During his BA, Gilbert had thrived on routine, finding comfort in knowing what came next. With Anne, nothing was ever routine or predictable… until now. There was an uneasiness to the predictability of her coma. Each night after lessons, Gilbert would visit Anne with hope for some change. And each night, Nurse Foster would greet him with a small sad smile.

On most days, Nurse Foster would start her shift at 8 am, relieving the night nurse and noting any new observations. Dr. Chamberson would arrive around 10 am for any updates and a quick physical assessment of Anne's progress. He usually finished in time for Phil's arrival at 11 am with her basket of morning tea and letters from Anne's family and friends. Roy's visits were less regular and subsequently less reliable. None of the three visitors ever crossed paths; only Nurse Foster remained the common factor.

Gilbert and Phil were constant companions to Nurse Foster and Doctor Chamberson. Nurse Foster also had two assistant nurses to share the 24-hour care for Anne, however, it was Nurse Foster who monitored all observations and participated in the discussions within the special projects team. Both Gilbert and Doctor Chamberson had insisted on her involvement; Gilbert, particularly, encouraged her insights and valued the learning he gained from her.

Sometimes if he had a spare moment at lunch, he would 'drop-in' to say hi to Nurse Foster but often he arrived at the same time she would leave. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, Nurse Foster could see Gilbert cared deeply for Anne; 'common friends' don't visit every day or spend their time reading with such an intense air about them.

"Good evening, Mr. Blythe. And which book have you brought for Anne tonight? Hopefully not Gray's Anatomy again?"

Gilbert gave a soft laugh. "No, Nurse Foster. Although, I was right. Doctor Lewisham did spring a surprise test on us regarding the importance of hygiene in the treatment of communicable diseases."

"And how did you fare?"

"97%. And I am eternally grateful with your assistance. You are certainly as fine a study companion as Miss Shirley here." Gilbert pulled up the seat next to Anne, with a gentle brush of her hand-his way of saying, 'Hello'.

Nurse Foster did not miss the caress, however, she was surprised to hear of their study behaviour. "So Miss Shirley was planning on being a doctor like yourself?"

This time, Gilbert gave a much louder laugh. "Oh no! Anne never wanted to pursue a career in medicine, although she was might good at the practical side of it. No, Anne dreams of being a writer and a teacher. We both studied hard for our goals, and both supported the other. In school, we were fierce rivals. At Redmond, we at least became friends and learned to work together. Honestly, I don't think I would have passed Psychology if it wasn't for her stubbornness and my competitiveness. In return, I had to read endless streams of Bronte. And just between you and I, it wasn't that bad."

"Aha! So now I understand the constant supply of books. Then I shall leave you to your Sleeping Beauty and bid you goodnight, Mr. Blythe."

With a slight nod, Gilbert said goodnight to Nurse Foster and turned his attention to Anne. He opened his book, Shirley by Charlotte Bronte and cleared his throat. "Anne-girl, I agree with the good nurse. Let's revisit your beloved Brontes and help you remember all that you are. Shirley-meet Shirley."

If he was going to find Anne anywhere, of course, it would be in a Spanish Castle.

It was hot. It was steamy. And he was really hungry. There was no point standing around. Gilbert walked across the bailey and stepped through the heavy open gate into a beautiful orchard.

He stopped to take a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh crisp air that held a taste of berries. He released with a long sigh, relaxing his tense shoulders. He knows this is all a dream but at least it is a nice dream. Regenerative, almost.

"Do you mind?"

He hears the voice but cannot see where it comes from. He thought it sounded like Anne? But he can't see her anywhere.

Gilbert smiles and instead looks up. There she is, up in the cherry tree. She is leaning across a thick branch, with her legs hanging down on either side. Her legs are bare of stockings, her pale lily skin contrasting against the forest green skirt she wears. Her blouse is stark white; whiter than her own skin. It softly billows over her arms in the slight breeze. The style is more medieval than contemporary, which gives Gilbert a quick thrill because he can see the curve of her collar and neck.

Best of all is the long thick red braid hanging over her shoulder. This is a far more relaxed Anne; Morrison than anything else he had seen over the last two years at Redmond. This was far more like the wood nymph he remembered from Avonlea. Gilbert was definitely impressed with his dream's attention to detail.

"And I suppose you're writing a story about wood nymphs up there because there is so much more scope for the imagination?"

Anne raises her chin ever so slightly but Gilbert knows that 'tell'. He's right. And she hates that.

"Not that it matters to you but yes, I am writing. However since you won't share your words, I will create my own plea to the elements."

Gilbert has no idea what she is talking about—just like their Avonlea days. Oh well. At least he knows how to play this role.

"Well, of course, that was my intent all along. How could I even dare to hold your creative genius down by sharing my own mortal words?" Gilbert punctuated his charm with a characteristic grin and a dramatic half-bow for good measure. That usually brought a laugh out of Anne.

Instead, Anne looked at him with a perturbed fashion. This was not the Gilbert she was expecting. 'But this is my dream. Why should it matter what she was expecting?', Gilbert thought to himself. There should be witty dialogue, passionate debate, and make-up kissing…

"Anne, what is it?"

Anne jumped down from the tree and stood before him. "Why are you being nice to me? Before, you were rude and curt and … well, I was trying to figure out what I had done to hurt you so grievously. And now … you're trying to charm me?"

Gilbert looked sheepishly at the ground. Okay, yeah. He had been holding a lot of anger after The Proposal. Not just at Anne but at himself too. He had come to realise this after the Fever; there is no benefit from holding on to the anger. All he did was share his pain and make Anne miserable. That's not what you do to someone you love.

Now he just wanted to rebuild the friendship. Go back to the good they once had. He thought… he hoped his offer of friendship would bring back her smile again.

"No, Anne. I'm sorry. I wanted more from you then you were able to give. And that was not fair on you. You needed space. You needed time. You should be true to yourself. Always. Not shackled by the expectations of others. I … I didn't want your friendship because it was too hurtful to settle. I didn't realise how much more would hurt when I took our friendship away. And then I didn't ask about you because I wanted to give you space. I wanted to respect whatever it is you need to learn about yourself." Gilbert sighed, a long and deeply buried sigh. "And now look at us. Can we start again?" Gilbert offered his hand in friendship.

Anne slowly smiled, like a light beginning to glow across her face. Her eyes began to shine and her nose twitched with excitement. Gilbert's breath caught as he was reminded how beautiful she was.

"True to yourself… yes, those words are perfect! Appeal to the elements to be true to themselves and do what is natural for them! If that was your magic then you, sir, are brilliant!" Anne started to look around for her book.

Gilbert was taken aback by the change of mood. "Ohhhhh...kaaaaay. So, are we good? I mean, are we friends again?"

She stops and looks at him. "Why, yes! If you truly believe I should be myself, then that makes you the dearest of friends. I learned that today! Or was it that I remembered? Never mind. Let's start afresh, Mister Blacksmith. A clean slate."

Gilbert laughed. "Well, anything but that!" His laugh was strong and vibrant, as she grasped his hand and sealed their promise of friendship again.

"Mr. Blythe! Mr. Blythe, wake up!"

Gilbert awoke with a start. He felt a pull on one side of his body. and another hand shaking his other side. "I'm awake. I'm awake! Mmmm, sorry. Must have dozed off. What time is it?"

The night nurse stopped shaking. "You were sleeping so heavily, Mr. Blythe. I thought to just leave you there until you woke up. It's nigh on 6 am. The only reason I woke you is because I saw Miss Shirley and needed to tell you right away."

Gilbert sat up, trying to shake off the veil of sleep hanging over him. He was still thinking about the dream, especially seeing Anne smile again. "What is it about Miss Shirley?" Gilbert turned to check on Anne for himself. Just to make sure she was okay.

She still slept but for the first time, Gilbert could see a soft serene smile on her face. Like she was daydreaming. He smiled in response and went to move a loose curl off her forehead.

And then he noticed. He finally noticed what the night nurse had been trying to tell him.

Anne Shirley was holding his hand. And she did not want to let go.