It is just before dawn in Camelot.  A dark figure is coursing stealthily through the streets, keeping to the shadows, avoiding any guards on patrol.  The figure stops outside the door of a house and slips silently inside.

            The cloaked figure approaches the bed and produces a trumpet-shaped flower of red and gold and holds it aloft.  Morgana gazes at the flower.  A whispered incantation, a flash of her eyes, and she tips the flower, pouring a fine gold dust that settles on Guinevere’s sleeping eyelids.  It shimmers for just a moment before it disappears.  Morgana heads for the door.  She pauses for a moment and looks back at Gwen’s sleeping form.  For just a fleeting second she feels a pang of guilt, remembering how good Gwen always was to her.  She shakes her head.  Fool, she chastises herself, and slips from the house.

xXx

            It is full morning now, and Guinevere is walking to the castle.  It is late fall and there is a chill in the air.  She shivers a little, wrapping her shawl tighter around her.  It’ll be warmer once the sun clears the treeline, she thinks, looking up at the clear sky.

            As she approaches the marketplace, a few vendors are starting to open up shop for the day.  She stops and selects a few items of fresh produce to bring to the castle for the day, taking care to choose things she knows to be favored by Arthur.

            “Good morning, Merlin,” she greets her friend as she enters the castle.  Merlin is carrying a tray covered with a linen napkin and appears to be in a hurry.

            “Hi, Gwen,” he replies.  He starts down the corridor, but she lays a hand on his arm to stop him.

            “Is that Arthur’s breakfast?” she asks.

            “Yes, and I’m late getting it to him.  He’s going to start yelling any minute now.”

            “You can spare me one moment,” Gwen says.  She reaches into her basket and brings out a large apple.  Yellow, Arthur’s favorite kind.  She pulls back the edge of the napkin and places it on the tray.  Before Merlin can escape, she reaches back in the basket.  This time she produces a purple flower, which she places on the tray, re-setting the apple atop it.  She replaces the napkin, and looks at Merlin, saying, “There.”

            Merlin smiles, understanding the flower’s meaning.  Gwen gives him a friendly squeeze on the elbow and sends him on his way.  He scurries down the hall towards Arthur’s bedchamber and Gwen continues to the kitchen to deliver her purchases.

xXx 

            As Merlin walks quickly down the hall, Arthur starts yelling.  Merlin is not concerned now, however, as he knows that his master’s mood will change once he sees the gift Gwen has left him.  He knocks on the door.

            “That had better be my breakfast,” Arthur calls from inside.  Merlin enters to find a scowling Arthur seated at the table.  He grins at the young king’s scowl.

            “Why are you so chipper?” Arthur snaps.

            “Oh, no reason.  I just have an extra special breakfast for you today.”

            “Well, let me have it, then.  I’m starving.”

            Merlin sets the tray down in front of him.  Arthur pulls the napkin off and places it in his lap.  He inspects the tray.

            “Sausages, bread, some cheese, an apple, I don’t see what’s so special about…” he tilts his head and sees something purple.  He lifts the apple and sees the flower beneath.  His brow unfurrows and a small smile plays across his lips.  Guinevere, he thinks, and his heart beats just a little faster.

            “Thank you, Merlin, that will be all for now,” he says, taking a bite of the apple.

            The day is uneventful for a change.  Gwen doesn’t have much to do with her time now that Uther has died.  Arthur has made it clear that he does not wish her to do any strenuous work any more, so she busies her day as best she can.  Tidying things here, bringing a pitcher of water there.  None of the other servants seem to harbor any ill will toward her changed workload.  She has been there so long and has always been kind and helpful to everyone so they cannot fault her.  In their minds, since the king is not displeased with her, why should they be?

            She finds Merlin again shortly before lunch.  He looks tired.  Arthur and the knights have been training, and since the day is quiet, they are bored, so they run Merlin ragged as they look for ways to amuse themselves.

            “Merlin, why don’t you sit and rest a bit.  I’ll bring Arthur his lunch,” Guinevere offers.

            “Are you sure?  You know he doesn’t like you serving,” Merlin says, but she can see the thanks in his eyes.

            “Let me worry about that.  Let’s go down to the kitchen and get you something to eat and rest a bit.  I’ll take care of Arthur.”

            Merlin agrees, and they walk to the kitchen together, chatting companionably.  They don’t see each other as often as they used to, and they miss one another.

            Gwen leaves Merlin in the kitchen and takes Arthur’s tray to the hall where he is waiting.  At first he is displeased with Merlin for letting Gwen talk him into taking over for him, but he quickly realizes that he benefits from the change in personnel as well.  He’d much rather spend his lunch in Guinevere’s company than Merlin’s.  He is tempted to ask her to sit with him, but he hesitates, knowing she will refuse.  As he is in the great hall, anyone could walk in at any moment, and Gwen is still very cautious.  Soon enough, he thinks, remembering the promise he made to her.  He decides instead to find every excuse possible to have her come close, even “accidentally” spilling his drink.  Twice.

            The afternoon wears on, and as the sky grows pink in the west, Merlin and Gwen cross paths once again.

            “Gwen, you’re the one who looks tired now.  Are you well?” he asks her, noticing her eyes look heavy.

            “Yes, I think so.  I can’t imagine why I feel so exhausted.  I slept well last night, and I’ve hardly done anything at all today.  In fact, I was going to ask if there was anything you needed me to help you with.”

            “I hope you are not taking ill.”

            “I’m sure I’m fine,” she says, “just a bit sleepy is all.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

            Merlin starts to say no, but he knows his friend.  She will press until he gives in, so he may as well think of something.

            “Um, Arthur has some shirts in the laundry.  I was going to go and see if they were dry and bring them up.”

            “I can do that,” she says with a smile and makes her way to the laundry.

            Guinevere does not feel well.  She doesn’t feel ill exactly, but something is not right.  She makes some small talk with the girls in the laundry, but her attention keeps turning to the forest beyond the castle.  That’s odd.  The woods never interested me before, she thinks.  Still, she feels pulled to the door.  She tells the head laundress, Eleanor, that she will be back shortly for the king’s shirts, but instead of going back into the castle, she goes out the door leading to the castle grounds and the forest beyond.

xXx 

            The light is growing dim as Merlin returns to Arthur’s room, where he is reading some parchments.  He is clearly not interested in their contents, because he seems pleased to see his servant.

            “Ah, Merlin,” he says.

            “Yes, sire?”

            “Have you seen Guinevere lately?”

            “Um, she didn’t come up here with your shirts?”

            “No,” he pauses, “wait.  With my what?”

            “Your shirts.  She was going to check on them and bring them up if they were dry.  But that was hours ago.  Surely they would be dry by now, even in this weather.”

            “You know how I feel about her doing unnecessary work,” he scolds.

            “Yes, I know, but you know how she doesn’t listen to you,” Merlin counters.

            Arthur stops short.  “True,” he admits.  “I was hoping to have a quiet dinner with her here tonight, but I haven’t seen her to ask her.”

            “I haven’t seen her either.  Are you sure that dinner is a good idea?”

            “That’s why it’ll be here, in my room.  And that’s why I need you.  To stand guard.”

            “I’ll go and see if I can find her,” Merlin says, and turns to leave.

            “Merlin,” Arthur stops him.

            “Yes?”

            “Should we be worried?”

            “Not yet.”

            Merlin goes to the laundry to see if Gwen has been there.  He sees Arthur’s shirts, clean, pressed, and folded.  No sign of Gwen.

            “Eleanor,” he asks the laundress, “was Guinevere here earlier?”

            “Yes, but it was quite a while ago.  The king’s shirts were not yet dry, so she said she’d be back in a little while.  But she hasn’t been back,” she answers.  Then adds, almost as an afterthought, “She didn’t look well.  Perhaps she went home.”

            “Maybe,” Merlin says, looking out the door leading to the grounds.  Something catches his eye in the distance.  A shape on the ground.

            “Did she go out the door here?” he asks her.

            “Heavens, I didn’t see which way she went.  She might have done.”

            “Thanks,” he says, now becoming worried.  He heads out the door.

            It is dark in the garden, but there is enough light coming from the castle that Merlin is able to see well enough.  He heads for the shape he saw in the grass.  As he approaches, he gains speed.  It is a piece of fabric.  Gwen’s wrap.

xXx

            Merlin picks it up and runs for Arthur’s room.  He bursts through the door, panting heavily.

            “Merlin!  Did you find… what is that?” Arthur asks, suddenly nervous.

            “Gwen’s… …wrap… …found it… …outside,” gasps Merlin.

            “Outside where?”

            “Outside the laundry.”

            Like a bolt of lightning, Arthur grabs his sword and coat, rushing past Merlin with a hurried, “Let’s go.”

xXx

            The two men go through the laundry, ignoring the girls there, who are shocked to see the king rushing through their domain.  They go out the door.  It is full night now, and it is cold.  The sky is clear and there is a half moon low in the sky.  Merlin has a torch, and he leads Arthur to where he found the shawl.  Arthur crouches, looking for a trail.  He is a skilled tracker, and is able to follow easily.  They make their way into the wood.  Merlin calls Gwen’s name once, but Arthur shushes him.

            “If she’s in trouble, she may not be alone.  We would lose the advantage of surprise.  Right now I don’t see any signs of anyone else, but we cannot be too cautious,” he explains.

            They walk for a time.  Merlin is nervous.  He can see that Arthur is beside himself with worry, but he is hiding behind his task.  He must concentrate on finding her, not worrying about what else he may find once he does.

            They see a gulley ahead.  Arthur seems certain that they are still on her trail.  They approach it, and look down.  About three feet below them is Guinevere, lying in the brush and fallen leaves.  She is not moving.

 xXx

            “No, no, no, no…” Arthur says as he jumps down onto the slope where Gwen is laying.  He crouches down by her, searching for any sign of life.  He touches her hand, her face.  Both are like ice.  He looks up at Merlin with terror in his eyes.  “She’s freezing cold,” he chokes.

            “Is she…?” Merlin asks, feeling a lump start to grow in his throat.  Arthur leans in close and puts his ear to her chest, listening for a heartbeat.  He lifts his head and exhales.

            “Her heart beats,” he says.  He can only feel minor relief.  She’s alive, but unconscious and frozen.  Her breathing is very shallow.  “We need to get her back to the castle.”

            Merlin is now beside them, frowning deeply.  Arthur removes his coat, lifts Gwen’s shoulders, and wraps it around her.  He then lifts her into his arms and starts to climb up the shallow slope of the gulley.  Merlin sets the torch upright between his feet so that he may remove his own coat.  As he does so, he spies a peculiar red and gold flower next to the indentation in the leaves where Guinevere was laying.  He plucks it from the ground and places it inside his tunic.  As it touches his skin, he feels the unmistakable hum of magic.  He quickly picks up the torch and scurries up the hill to join Arthur.  He places his coat over Gwen’s legs like a blanket.

            As they walk quickly back to the castle, Arthur asks, “Why would she be out here alone?  She doesn’t like the forest.  She would never go out here alone, I know that much.”

            Merlin ponders the flower in his shirt.  He must tell what he found.  “Arthur?”

            “What, Merlin?”

            “I found this strange flower right in the spot where we found Gwen.”  Merlin produces the flower.

            “Yes?” Arthur responds, not sure where his servant is going with this line of thought.

            “Well, I’ve never seen anything like it before, and most flowers close at night.  This one was blooming as if it were noon on a summer’s day.  Plus, look at it.  It kind of… glows.”

            Arthur looks at the flower.  Indeed the gold bits do seem to be shimmering.  “We’re taking her straight to Gaius.  Perhaps he’ll know what it is, or have a book that can tell us.”

 xXx

            They reach Gauis’ door just as he is emerging from it.  “What on earth has happened?” he asks.

            “Gaius, she was out in the forest.  She’s freezing.  We need to get her warmed up,” Arthur hurriedly tells him.

            Gaius comes closer, puts a hand on Gwen’s cheek and says, “Yes.  I think you’d better take her to your room.  Merlin, run ahead and get a fire going as hot as you can.”  Gaius gives Merlin a very clear by-any-means-necessary look, and Merlin runs back up the corridor.

            “My room?  Why there?” Arthur asks.

            “Move.” Gauis orders, and Arthur does so.  “We need to bring her body temperature back up as quickly as we can, and your rooms are much warmer than mine.”

 xXx

            They reach Arthur’s room to find Merlin and a roaring fire.  Arthur looks at Gaius and asks, “Now what?”  His concern for Guinevere is taking control of his brain and he is now following orders rather than giving them.

            “Put her in your bed,” Gaius says, striding ahead to pull back the covers.  Arthur places Gwen on the soft mattress and Gaius leans in to remove the extra coats.

            “Arthur.  Boots off, shirt off.  In the bed with her,” he orders the king, and starts on removing Guinevere’s over-gown.

            Arthur bends to remove his boots, then his brain kicks in.  “I beg your pardon?” he asks, looking at Gaius with complete disbelief.  Merlin, who is standing several feet behind him, mirrors his expression.

            “For heaven’s sake, man.  The fastest way to warm a cold body is with a warm body.  If you don’t feel qualified, I’m sure Merlin will be more than willing…”

            “No, no, no, that’s all right, I think I can manage,” Arthur interrupts hurriedly, kicking his boots off and yanking at his shirt.  Merlin steps up to assist Arthur, but then Gaius calls to him, “Merlin, help me with this, please.”

            “Why are you taking her clothes off?” asks Arthur, peeking through his half-off shirt.  “I thought we had to make her warmer, not colder.  Besides, um, I don’t know if I should…”

            “Clothes only work to keep you warm if you are already warm.  She will need to draw heat from you, and her clothing will only act as a barrier.  And don’t worry; we won’t be taking anything further off.  She’ll still have her underdress on.  Under the circumstances, we are not doing anything improper.  All right, then.  In you go.”

            Arthur gingerly climbs in beside Guinevere.  This is to save her life, he reminds himself, but he is nervous that other parts of his body may not understand that.

            “That’s it, come closer to her.  Now.  Hold her to you.”  Gaius commands in a very businesslike manner.  Arthur looks sideways at Merlin.  Gaius sees his discomfort and says, more gently, “It’s all right, Arthur.  I know.  So you don’t need to pretend you don’t want to do this.”  Gaius smiles as Arthur gathers Guinevere to him, holding her to his chest.  Merlin pulls the blanket up over them, tucking them in.

            “Hold her as close as you dare,” Gaius says with a wink.  Arthur exhales and tries to think about jousting.

            “Merlin, tell Gaius about the flower,” he remembers.

            “What flower?” asks Gaius, turning to Merlin.  Merlin picks up the flower, which he has set on a bedside table and shows it to Gaius.  His shrewd eyes narrow and he inhales.

            “That’s a Duermorte flower.  I didn’t think they were real,” he says.

            “Duermorte?” repeats Merlin.

            “It roughly means ‘sleeping death,’ and it needs to be destroyed in order for Gwen to recover.”

            “Fireplace?” offers Arthur.

            “Should do the trick,” says Gaius, shooting another meaningful glance Merlin’s way, “but we will need to watch Guinevere closely once it is thrown in.”

            Merlin takes the flower to the fireplace.  He stares into it.  He glances back over his shoulder to his companions, and sees Gaius distracting Arthur by giving him instructions on how to maximize the use of his body heat.  Very well, then.  Merlin gazes down into the flower and clears his head.  Ever so softly, he whispers the words that come to him.  His eyes light, reflecting the fire, and he tosses the flower.  The fire burns large and red for a few seconds, sending up sparks.  He turns and says, “It’s gone.”

            Arthur and Gaius stare at Gwen.  Merlin joins them.  They wait, holding their breath.  Suddenly Arthur says, “Gaius!  She’s shivering!  It didn’t work!”  He is panic-stricken.

            “No!  This is good news!  If she’s shivering, that means her body is fighting to warm itself!”  The three men breathe, and Arthur snuggles her closer, rubbing his hands slowly up and down her back.  He kisses her forehead, and finds it less cold than before.  He closes his eyes, not wanting Gaius and Merlin to see how close he is to tears.  He allows himself to feel some relief, but he won’t be able to relax until she wakes.

            Gaius sits.  Merlin looks at him and tells him, “It’s late, Gaius.  You need your rest.  Go home and get some sleep.  I will stay up with them.  I’ll come get you the minute she awakes.”

            “Are you sure, Merlin?  I am certainly capable of staying here as well,” Gaius says, but he can feel the tiredness in his bones.  The cold air always makes his joints ache.

            “Go.  We’ll be fine.  I’ll behave myself,” says Arthur from the bed with a smile.

            “You should try and get some rest yourself, Sire,” Gaius says as he stands and walks from the room.

            “Somehow I doubt very much that I’ll be able to sleep.”

 xXx

            Several hours pass.  Merlin is unusually quiet.  He, like Arthur, will not feel any real relief until he sees Gwen wake up.  He busies himself keeping the fire going and tidying things around the room.  Arthur seems lost in his own thoughts.  He is waiting, very diligently doing his best to warm his love.  He rubs her feet with his own, rubs her arms with his hands, doing everything Gaius suggested to bring her chilled body back up to temperature.  He whispers softly to her at times, words only for her ears.  Merlin feels like he is intruding, but he must stay for propriety’s sake.  Also he promised Gaius.

            Suddenly Guinevere takes a large breath of air and squirms just slightly in Arthur’s arms.  Arthur whispers loudly, “Merlin!”  Merlin hurries to the bedside, sees Gwen is stirring, and runs to go wake Gaius.

            Arthur strokes her cheek, looking down at her.  She moves again, and he loosens his grasp slightly, reluctantly.  She squeezes her eyes tight for a second, then blinks them open.  The first thing she sees is Arthur’s worried face.

            “Arthur?  What am I… where… why?”  She asks foggily, trying to get a handle on what’s happening.  She feels as though she has awakened from a drugged sleep.

            “Shhh,” Arthur coos, kissing her forehead again.  “Something enchanted you and you wandered out into the forest.  Merlin and I found you unconscious and nearly frozen to death.”

            “Why am I in your bed?”

            “Gaius’ orders.  I was instructed to warm you up.”

            “He ordered you?”

            “I was a little out of sorts myself,” he admits.  “Do you remember anything?”

            “I remember… going for your shirts.  Talking to Eleanor.  I was so tired.  That’s all.”  She snuggles her head into his shoulder, just because he’s there and she can.

            “There was a flower.  Do you remember a flower?”

            She thinks, closing her eyes.  “A red flower?”

            “Yes, red and…”

            “…gold.”

            “Yes.”

            “Gaius knew what it was.  He said something about ‘sleeping death’ and it was only supposed to have been legend.”

            “Where is it now?”

            “Burned.”

            “How did this happen?  Why did I go out into the woods?  What does that flower do?”

            Her body, now warm, is starting to distract Arthur, and his hands start to rove a bit.  He finds himself actually hoping that Merlin and Gaius will return before he does something he shouldn’t.

            “Arthur?” she prompts.

            “Hopefully Gaius will have some answers.  Merlin went to fetch him when you started to wake.”  He runs his hand along her spine.  She feels like liquid in his arms.

            “They’d better come back soon,” she says to his chest.

            “Hmm?”  Arthur hadn’t heard her.

            She looks up into his eyes, and says, “They had better come back soon.”  Their eyes lock and they both understand the precarious position they are in.  Guinevere still feels exhausted, but she is unaccustomed to being in this kind of close proximity to Arthur, and the two separate needs are starting to do battle.

xXx

            Merlin comes bursting through the door, Gaius following close behind with a book in his hands.  “Guinevere!” Gaius exclaims, “I’m happy to see you are awake!”

            “Thank you, Gaius,” she says to him, now feeling a little embarrassed to be laying in bed with the king now that there are two other people in the room.  She starts to get up, but finds she has very little strength.

            “Stay there, Gwen, I will come to you.  I would like to examine you.”

            “Of course,” she says, settling back in.

            As Gaius examines Gwen, she asks, “Arthur was saying something about a flower?”

            “Yes, I looked it up when I got back to my room.  The Duermorte flower.”

            “Yes?”

            Merlin opens the book and reads, “’The Duermorte flower, or the flower of sleeping death, when properly used, will place its victim in a dreamlike state.  The victim will wander until he finds the flower.  He will then stay with the flower until they are either found or killed.’”  He then adds, “A very effective way to eliminate a person and make it look like an accident.”

            “What does it mean, ‘properly used’?”  Arthur asks.

            “Well,” Gaius says, standing up, “a sorcerer must somehow apply the pollen from the flower to her victim’s eyelids while they sleep.  Then, come next nightfall, the flower will call to that person, who will travel as though sleepwalking until they find that flower.  There is only one sorcerer, or sorceress, that we know of who would do such a thing.”

            “Morgana,” Merlin says coldly.

            “I’m afraid so.  Gwen, you appear to be recovering well, but you need some real sleep now.  You were not actually sleeping this whole time, which is why you still feel so exhausted and weak.  So sleep.  Both of you.”

            “Here?” Guinevere asks, unsure.

            “We’re not moving you,” answers Gaius.  “Besides, you won’t be unchaperoned.”

            “I’ll stay here,” Merlin chimes in.

            “I do think it would be safer for you to stay put,” Arthur adds, though he is not convinced that it is the best idea either.  “If you like, I can sleep elsewhere,” he adds, hoping that she’ll say no.

            “No, I think I need you here,” she says, granting Arthur’s wish.  “I just don’t understand how Morgana could do this.  How she could have turned so completely.”

            “None of us do, my dear,” says Gaius, placing his hand on her shoulder.  “We none of us can understand this because we don’t have the same capacity for hatred and cruelty she seems to possess.  I’m sorry she has hurt you this way.”

            “I am, too.  She always used to be so good to me.”  She looks down and closes her eyes.  A tear works its way free from one corner of her eye.  Arthur wipes it away with a finger.  He is still fretting over her like a mother hen, his emotions beginning their own battle within.  Rage over what was done to the woman he loves, worry for her well-being, desire at having her so close, and relief that she is alive and will recover are all warring for dominance in his heart.

            “Get some sleep now,” Gaius says as he turns to exit.  “Come and fetch me again in the morning when she wakes again,” he says to Merlin.

            Arthur cuddles her close.  She no longer needs his warmth, but she needs his care.  She is exhausted.  She can hardly move.  She cannot keep her eyes open, but she manages to look up at him through heavy lids and say, “Thank you, Arthur.”  She kisses his jaw.

            “Go to sleep, love,” Arthur whispers and she drifts off immediately.

            Arthur is not so lucky.  He lies awake for a while, his thoughts a whirlwind in his head.  Why?  What has Guinevere done to her?  This is my fault.  She is using her to destroy me.  I cannot allow that.  I will double the guards in the lower town.  I will have Gwen move into the castle.  I will have patrols out in the forest to try and find Morgana, and then… Oh, what then?  Her powers have grown so much that I almost wish I had a sorcerer on my side.  Almost.  God, she smells good.  What is that flower she smells like?  The little purple one.  Lavender?  Yes, that sounds right.  Oh, I could get used to this.  Focus, man.  Morgana.  Witch.  I have to think of a way to put a stop to her mayhem…

            Merlin sees the king staring up at the ceiling, brows knitted, then looking at Gwen, tenderly.  Then back to the ceiling, perplexed and upset.

            “Arthur.  We will find a way to stop her,” Merlin says quietly to him from his chair placed nearby.  He is getting sleepy, too.

            “Will we, Merlin?  I just don’t know what to do about her.  I fear she is past reason, so trying to make peace isn’t an option.  She always manages to evade our grasp, and I’m running out of ideas.”

            “Try and get some sleep.  You will be no good to anyone tomorrow without any rest.”

            “I know.  I’m just so furious.”

            “With Morgana.”

            “With myself.  What happened to Guinevere is my fault.”

            “No, it isn’t.  Morgana is desperate.  She is grasping at anything she can to try and destroy this kingdom so that she can make it her own.  I don’t think it’s a personal vendetta against you.  Not anymore.  Her anger has gone so far past logic that she will stop at nothing, not caring who she steps on during her journey to attain the power she thinks she deserves.  She wants Camelot, and it is not just you standing in her way.  It is all of us.”

            Arthur sighs.  “Merlin, sometimes you do make a certain sense.  Thank you.”  He finally closes his eyes.

 xXx

            The morning sun is streaming in through the window, waking Merlin.  He had fallen asleep in his chair, and now there is a sunbeam in his eye.  He stirs and stretches, muttering, “Ow,” when he feels how stiff his neck has become from the awkward position he fell asleep in.  He looks over at his charges.  They are still sleeping, curled in each other’s arms.  Once again, he feels like he shouldn’t be there, like he is intruding on their intimacy.  This is what it will be like when they are married, he thinks with a smile.  Arthur and Gwen are his two closest friends and their happiness means a lot to Merlin.  He stands and quietly starts preparing for the day.

            Guinevere’s eyes open.  Where am I?  She is looking at a neck.  Arthur.  Why am I in bed with Arthur?  Slowly she remembers.  She remembers the cold, the flower, Arthur, Merlin, Gaius.  They saved her.  She would have frozen to death had they not come looking for her.  Morgana, why?  She looks up at Arthur’s sleeping face.  He is still sleeping, but he doesn’t look relaxed.  Is he worrying about me still, even while he sleeps?  She hears Merlin’s quiet puttering behind her.  She turns as best she can.  Arthur has a pretty tight grip on her still.

            “Merlin,” she whispers.

            “Gwen!” he exclaims.  Arthur scrunches in his sleep.

            “Shh!” she admonishes.

            “Sorry.  How are you?” his voice drops to a whisper and he comes to crouch by her side of the bed.

            “Better, I think.  I feel a little… foggy, but I think I’ll live,” she smiles.

            “Good.  I’m so glad.  Arthur was so worried.  So was I.  We just couldn’t think of what we’d do…” he trails off, afraid of embarrassing himself.

            “You saved my life, both of you.  Thank you, Merlin,” she says, putting her hand on his.

            “Gaius!  I’m supposed to go get Gaius when you wake up,” he says, remembering his orders.  He stands, adding, “Be back soon.”

 xXx

            She turns back around so she is facing Arthur again.  She peers at him.  He’s faking it, she thinks.  She leans up and kisses him.

            “That’s not fair,” he mumbles, eyes still closed, “how am I supposed to stay asleep with you kissing me?”

            “That’s the idea,” she says, and kisses him again.  His eyes open and he looks down at her.

            “See now, this is how I want to wake up every day,” he says, smiling down at her.   “How are you feeling?”

            “Better.  I haven’t tried to move too much yet, though.”

            “Why not?”
            “Because you won’t let go of me.”

            “Oh, sorry,” he says, but still doesn’t let go.  In fact, he holds her a little tighter.

            “Arthur….”

            “I’ll let you go when Gaius comes back.  Until then, you aren’t going anywhere.”

            She snuggles into his chest.  She feels unnecessarily happy.  “Strange, isn’t it?” she asks Arthur’s chest.

            “What’s that?”

            “That the best morning of my life was caused by me almost dying.”  She leans back and looks up at him again.  Her heart feels filled with his presence.

            Merlin and Gaius will be back soon, and then she’ll have to get out of his bed and go back to reality.  Arthur seems to be thinking the same thing, and he dips his head and kisses her tenderly, softly, reminding himself that he will be proposing marriage soon enough, and it will not be long before she will be in his arms every night.