Chapter Text
“This may sound strange, Merlin, but I have dreamt of you.”
Merlin froze as the voice of the King’s ward spoke up from behind him. He had just gone to give Morgana her dose of sleeping draught, though he knew it would do barely anything to stop her visions. Morgana’s gift as a seer was strong.
It had been a rough day for Morgana. After the fire that burnt her chambers, the fire that she was adamant she started, both he and Morgana had been on edge and Merlin was amazed she was comfortable enough to try and sleep in her own chambers again.
The king’s ward believed it to be magic. Merlin knew this to be true. He knew the signs and he knew exactly how Morgana felt. But he was cautious. He wanted to tell her the truth, but it had been drilled into him since he came to Camelot to keep the magic a secret. However this didn’t stop Merlin from wanting to sit down and explain to his friend that magic wasn’t evil, to simply conjure a flame in his hand to prove to Morgana that she wasn’t alone.
Merlin stopped halfway to Morgana’s door and his heart began to pound as he wondered which of his many secrets could be revealed to her in her dreams.
He turned to face her, schooling his features to look surprised instead of nervous. Morgana herself had a pink tinge to her cheek, as if she was embarrassed.
“I know it is strange to say, considering everything that has happened, but I have dreamt of you three times this past week. It is always the same. I see you in a grand castle, far from here. In a kingdom that embraces magic. In my dream you are the prince, a fierce warrior and beloved by your people. But you were forced to leave. There was a rebellion, a coup, a traitor who wanted the power for themselves … you had to be taken to safety…” Morgana trailed off. She shook her head and laughed, “Sorry Merlin. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”
Merlin forced himself to laugh along with her, “It is alright, my lady. They are only dreams. If only they were true though! If I were a prince, I wouldn’t have to look after the Prat!”
Morgana chuckled and Merlin took his cue to leave. “Goodnight, my lady.”
“Goodnight, Merlin.”
The warlock exited the chambers, pausing to compose himself outside of Morgana’s door. He should have seen this coming. Morgana’s visions had been true in the past, and this time was no different. Morgana thought them to be merely dreams, but he, Merlin Ambrosius, Crown Prince of the Kingdom of Dracona, knew better.
Morgana’s dreams were true.