AN: Another short chapter, I'm sorry. The flashbacks are hard to draw out, because I just have certain things I want to say in each one. The next chapter should be a little longer (though I feel like I keep saying that - you must be getting tired of hearing it!).
ArthurianDream: Thanks :) I'm glad I'm capturing the characters right. I feel like it's not that difficult, especially because they banter all the time in the show, but it still feels AMAZING to hear it! Thank you thank you thank you!
Read on!
10 months ago...
He'd had another dream the night before. This time, his former manservant was resting in a campsite, with the bastet - now in the form of a girl. He still couldn't hear anything, but that was OK. They were probably talking about all sorts of magical nonsense that would only make the Prince's head hurt. Not that it wasn't hurting already. Not that he couldn't follow a conversation. He just wasn't learned in the ins and outs of magic. This was the first time he'd even considered it.
It had been a month since Merlin left. Though Arthur had forgiven him, and sent out patrols to find the warlock, there was no sign, except these dreams. Dreams of Merlin running, the bastet loping beside him; dreams of Merlin and the girl going into a town and buying food, clothes, blankets. Dreams of Merlin in the tavern, drinking some ale, perhaps a little too much; and having the girl drag him out. Dreams of the girl and Merlin kissing, which made far too much sense, as they relaxed under the clouds.
Sometimes Arthur wished he could turn his subconscious off.
Arthur didn't understand. He just wanted Merlin to come home, and for them to have a long conversation, and for all to be forgiven. For things to go back to normal.
No, not back to normal. Better than normal. Because now Arthur could really, properly thanks his manservant. Can people cry while having dreams?
This dream was different. They had stopped somewhere that seemed completely random. Merlin had pointed out across a valley, and though it was nighttime, the moon was full and the stars were out; so it gave the impression of a cloudy day, though the shapes and distance and size of objects was difficult to gauge. Small, round things dotted the hillside opposite (where they sheep?), and flowers of pink and purple and white popped up here and there among the grass. With a flash of gold, Merlin built a campfire and set out the blankets as the girl hugged him. They were so happy, but Arthur couldn't help feel a dull ache - although he would never admit it, Merlin was a dear friend, and Arthur had all but chased him away.