A/N: A few things! 1) Things are not winding down. We're about a third of the way through what I have plotted!, 2) This does not mean I'm back to updating every other day., 3) The whole vegan Merlin thing is an inside joke-ish thing between LyreBoleyne and myself that keeps getting out of hand, and it's really affectionately meant. So hopefully it comes off that way? 4) Everyone wondering about Galahad and Viviane should look at her "The Quest of the Lake" story because that is all from their perspectives!
Anyway, I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I hope you like it! Thank you for reading and reviewing! :D
Persistent whimpers break through Merlin's consciousness, dispelling pleasant dreams of kisses and readings, and he wakes to a sharp pain in ribs. His eyes blink open, and he takes in his surroundings as the events of the night before come rushing back to him.
Morgana is tucked into his side, her hair tickling his shoulder and her arm splayed across his chest. Her face is contorted into a frown, and he feels a warm drop against his bare skin as she whimpers and digs her nails into his ribcage.
Cringing at the pain, he reaches for her hand and pulls it away from his side. He intertwines her clenched fingers with his and squeezes before dropping a feather-light kiss to her forehead.
"Morgana," he whispers, brushing hair out of her face with his free hand.
She doesn't respond and, instead, groans as the tears come on faster.
The sound pierces his heart, and he feels the overwhelming need to shelter her from all future pain. He'd hoped against all hope that her nightmares had left her in their time apart, but the bags under her eyes from the night they'd spent at Arthur and Gwen's come back to him and he sighs, holding her closer.
He strokes her hair, whispering words of love that he doesn't feel ready to say come morning but knows he means with all of his heart in the night. He holds her other hand and brings her wrist to his mouth, brushing his lips against her pulse point and willing her to wake.
Minutes pass and finally – finally, her whimpers begin to taper off and her eyelids flutter open as her lashes brush against his skin.
Merlin stands above Morgana, sword in hand, and she clutches at her stomach. She gasps in pain and desperately tries to writhe away and save herself. But then helping hands persistently make their way into her hair and comfort seethes into the burning, searing pain as she falls forwards onto her knees and opens her eyes.
She's in her bed, far from the medieval wreckage she'd seen herself in, but the hands from her dream are still in her hair and she sits up to find Merlin looking back at her.
Concern drives the malevolence from his eyes, but she remembers the anguish she'd felt as he'd dug the sword into her and pulls away from him, releasing his hand and protectively holding the silken sheets to her bare chest.
He sits up against her quilted headboard. "It's only me."
She shakes her head and croaks, "No."
She squeezes her eyes shut as hurt seeps into his gaze.
He reaches out to brush his fingers against her upper arm and she flinches and scoots away.
"Morgana." The hurt she can't see seeps into his voice, and she hears the question behind it.
"I dreamt... " she begins and trails off. She swallows, her dry throat burning. "You tried to kill me. You stabbed me. More than once. And you just watched. Your eyes… In all these years, I've never seen anyone look that cold or that cruel."
Tears burn against her eyelids, and she draws her knees up to her chest. She leans her head against them and begins to rock in place, willing the images to go away.
They don't.
She sees the ruined castle and her hands caked in mud as she helplessly writhes on the damp, dirt floor.
What she logically knows are only minutes go by, and Merlin tentatively places a hand on her back. His fingers are soft and warm and his touch tender and so different from that in her dream. She flinches but doesn't move away.
"I would never…" he whispers, and she nods against her knees.
"I know."
"Do you want me to go?"
She hears the hesitation in his voice, and she knows, logically, that this is the Merlin she knows, that the other is a horrible, horrible conjecture drawn by her worst fears.
She doesn't want him to leave. She wants the images to go away, wants to lose herself in his arms and let him drive her to oblivion.
"No." Her voice comes out muffled from the covers, but Merlin moves his hand from her back to her shoulder and squeezes.
She feels her heart rate begin to slow, and when the burning in her throat gets to be too much, she lifts her head and begins to move towards the edge of the bed.
"I need water."
Merlin scampers to get up. "I'll get it for you."
Morgana shakes her head. She knows the dream was just a dream, but the horrible memories of others float back to her and she needs to get her own drink and make sure she's safe. "Stay. I'll be right back."
Merlin frowns. "Are you sure?"
"I am. I'll be right back. I promise."
She takes her time in the kitchen. She slowly drinks a glass of water and goes through her breathing exercises, willing herself to stay calm. She stops in the tiny powder room off the entryway and splashes water on her face. The cold brings her back to her senses, and she pads back into her bedroom knowing exactly what she wants.
Merlin is sitting up in her bed and has her bedside lamp switched on as he leafs through the copy of The Buried Giant she keeps on her night table. He's transfixed on the book, frowning as if he too is trying to remember a distant past but doesn't know if it'll cause more pleasure or pain.
"Hey," she whispers, nearing the bed.
He puts the book down and turns to her, eyes adorably wide. "Hi."
"I'm sorry."
Merlin shakes his head, reaching for her. "You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry about your dream. Are you feeling better?"
She shrugs and sits on his side of the bed.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
She gives him a close-mouthed smile and repositions herself so that she's straddling his lap. She leans forward, bracing herself by grasping his shoulder with one hand and cupping the side of his face with the other, and whispers, "Make me forget."
They spend the rest of the night in each other's arms, mouths and fingertips driving all possibilities of nightmares and dark thoughts away, and it's well into the late morning when Morgana wakes not to pain but to Merlin trailing feather-light kisses down her abdomen.
She tangles her fingers into his extremely mussed hair and guides him back up to her, muttering her good mornings against his lips.
Every bit of her pleasantly aches, and she toys with the idea of suggesting that they spend the rest of the day in bed. They haven't discussed what this all means, but she wants to relish every moment, whether this is one, incredible fluke of a night or the beginning of something amazing.
She's about to say so, but then Merlin pushes away from her after pressing an exceptionally fervent kiss to her lips and smiles. "I'm going to make us coffee."
And who is she to turn away the one thing keeping this moment from achieving perfection? She beams and rolls over, reaching for the raw silk dressing gown she'd shed after her midnight wanderings. "I'll come with you."
They eat breakfast cuddled together in the little nook in her kitchen, her legs thrown over his lap and their problems seemingly far away. Merlin savours every moment, and as she looks at him from over the rim of her oversized coffee cup, he thinks that he's ready to forgive everything if it means they can pick up from here and move on.
He's missed this and her and everything they ever had together, and the love he feels for her after all this time terrifies him in its persistent strength. It hasn't faded in the way he thought it had. It had simply buried itself in his subconscious, waiting for her return to come back to the surface. One week in her presence and one night in her arms and already he doesn't know how he managed to live five years without her.
He reaches for her, then, and trails a row of kisses along her jaw before catching her lips in a coffee-flavoured kiss. He's home, and he'll be damned if he lets anything drag him away from it again.
Galahad calls as they're laid out in bed, reading and intermittently discussing the latest books they've read.
She digs her phone out of her bag, where she'd left it, forgotten the night before.
"Hi, Lad!"
"Morgana," he greets her. "You sound happy this morning."
Morgana grins. "That's because I am."
"Care to say why?"
She watches Merlin flip through the pages of the book he'd pulled out of his bag, hair flopping into his face. "Nope."
"Mhmm. You called me yesterday?"
"I did! Merlin suggested a place for us to go."
"Merlin, huh?" Galahad teases, and Morgana hears his smile through the phone.
"Yes, Merlin. He'd be joining us, if that's okay."
"It would be as long as it's not today and as long as you promise not to leave me to do the naughty in the bathroom and get us thrown out of wherever we're going."
"Galahad!"
Merlin looks up from his book, cocking an eyebrow at her reaction. She rolls her eyes, and Merlin's lips quirk into a grin.
"What?! You're with him right now, aren't you?"
"How could you possibly…?"
"It's early afternoon on a Sunday, you sound disgustingly happy, and I saw the two of you on Friday night. It was only a matter of time."
"You're unbelievable!"
"I do try."
Morgana snorts. "We'll see you later in the week, then?"
"Awww, 'we'!"
"Galahad."
"Sorry." He coughs.
Morgana frowns. "Is everything okay?"
"I caught some sort of bug. I went to a vernissage last night, and I think something was wrong with the shrimp."
"I'm sorry. Do you need anything?"
"Not unless you want to see me being sick?"
"That, I do not."
"Besides, it might just be a bug, in which case I don't want you to catch it and ruin your reunion honeymoon."
Morgana wolfishly grins, running her eyes over Merlin's mercilessly bare chest as he reaches over for a water bottle he'd left on her night table and drinks.
"No, I'm certainly not done having my way with Merlin just yet. I won't come within a hundred feet of you and risk getting sick."
Merlin splutters at her words and begins to cough, face and ears turning red.
"I should go, Lad," she adds, sitting up to pat Merlin on the back. "Feel better!"
"What was that?" Merlin asks
"Galahad has a stomach bug, and he wishes us well."
Merlin's flush deepens. "Did you have to tell him?"
"He guessed, Merlin, and it's alright, we're all adults."
"Oh, my god," Merlin mutters.
"What?"
"Gwen! I forgot I was supposed to have dinner with Arthur and Gwen."
Morgana leans back against her headboard. "She's going to be insufferable. Are you going to tell her?"
"Do you want to tell her?"
Morgana smirks. "We could mess with her. Pretend to still be on the outs."
Merlin swallows, eyes wide. "I think we should tell her. I don't have it in me to pretend, Morgana."
Morgana's smile softens and she reaches out and strokes Merlin's stubbly cheek with the backs of her fingers. "Okay. Then we tell her. And Arthur."
Gwen's eyes widen when they show up together, and her shriek sounds down the street as Merlin's ears redden and give them away before they even have a chance to speak. Morgana grins at her reaction, simply happy that they'd decided to meet outside the restaurant.
"I knew it!" Gwen exclaims, turning to Arthur with a smile. "You owe me money."
Arthur grumbles and shakes his head at them. "Couldn't you have waited another week?"
Morgana shakes her head at them. "Arthur, I understand, but Gwen?!"
"Really, I thought you would be the last one to profit from our pain."
"Honestly." Gwen rolls her eyes. "I betted on you getting back together sooner rather than later, not against you. Though mind you, I was ready to change my bet after you suggested showing up at her flat with vegan sushi yesterday."
Morgana feels her own cheeks heating up at that, and Gwen squeals anew.
"No!"
"Morgana doesn't share your prejudice, Gwen."
"Please tell me he at least brought you flowers?"
Morgana snorts. "You know that doesn't work on me. I like flowers, but not when it comes to life-altering decisions."
"No, for that you apparently have sushi."
Morgana grins, looking up at Merlin. "No, for that I have Merlin."
Arthur looks at them both with distaste. "I'm glad you've…" he pauses, gesturing between them, "worked things out, but that's just disgusting. Merlin?"
Morgana's smile grows. "Don't be immature, Arthur. You wouldn't be able to handle Merlin."
"And right before dinner. Can we leave them, Gwen? Please?"
Gwen snorts, shaking her head at them all and stepping towards the entrance to the bistro. "I thought I was getting two children off my hands, and now I have three."