Nimue

When Merlin confesses his love, can the Lady of the Lake overcome their differences?

Nimue twirled her long body through the dark waters of the Loch Ness, her scaly obsidian tail flicking back and forth to propel her through the water. Just for fun, she swam toward the moonlight above and skimmed the surface of the lake, undulating her serpentine body into a wave. She briefly broke the surface with her glittering black head.

That will start the locals talking again, she thought, baring her razor-sharp teeth into a wicked grin and diving back toward the deeps.

Nimue knew her king and patron, Galmuiri, would object to such childish antics, for mortals were not permitted to view the immortal bodies of the leviathans. Throughout the world, no other among her kind had allowed the short-lived humans to see their monstrous forms. In doing so, she broke the laws of her king. But Nimue blamed her contrary impulses on the sacred task the king had bestowed upon her, for that task placed her in constant contact with the mortals from whom she hid.

Galmuiri had charged her with building a legend of a man.

She sighed and swam toward the shore, calling upon the magic of Water, patron Element of all the leviathans, to transform her body. She emerged from the crystalline lake as a beautiful, dark young woman, clad in shimmering gossamer of purest white. Shining obsidian locks trailed down her back. Water dripped from her hair and garment, and the gossamer clung to her feminine form.

"Pardon me," breathed the voice of a young man.

Nimue jumped. She turned to face Merlin, the Druid Healer, hiding within the boughs of a nearby tree.

"Merlin! You startled me." She raised her delicate ebony hand to her breast to still the heaving of her lungs, with which she was unused to breathing in any case. Under her humanoid ribs, she felt the wild beating of her heart.

"I am most humbly apologetic and at your service, Lady," he said, stepping clear of the low-hanging branches. He wore a long, hooded robe of royal blue trimmed in elegant threads of gold and silver. "I have spent many nights on the shores of the loch, hoping upon all hope that you might appear to me again." As he approached, he raised his hands to the hood and removed it from his head, revealing the porcelain skin and tightly-curled golden hair of the young Druid. Thus revealed, Merlin bowed his head and dropped to one knee in the mud in front of her.

"Merlin," she scolded, reaching for his hands and lifting him back to his feet. "You know I am not of noble birth. You must not bow to me."

The young man rose, but he kept his head dipped.

"I bow to your majestic splendor," said he in the soft voice of a Healer, "and are you not sovereign of Avalon?"

"Sovereign over none but myself," she answered, a wry smile tugging at her lips. She reached one hand to his chin and lifted he face to hers, searching his verdant, earthy eyes. Merlin met her gaze, and Nimue felt her breath catch.

"Have you considered my proposal, my lady?" Though his eyes wavered not, Nimue saw the uncertainty buried in them. His eyes flicked back and forth, looking for something within the depths of her own. Her pulse quickened.

"Merlin," she began, bowing her own head and breaking the eye contact. She withdrew her hand from his chin and backed away, and she heard him sigh.

"I love thee," he whispered. "Please, lady."

She looked back up at the man and felt his wave of love and sincerity washing over her, stronger than any ocean tide she had ever encountered. "I cannot," said she, her chest heaving again, and she thought her heart might break in half. Tears pooled in her eyes and overflowed, sliding down her cheeks. "I am so sorry, Merlin. You know my desire, but I cannot. I am not of the mortal world. I am not permitted. It is not possible."

Merlin reached up to wipe away her tears. Without her permission or even any sort of warning, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the mouth, his hands lightly touching her cheeks. She felt her eyes close of their own accord, and she pressed into the kiss, returning it with urgency. Her hands found his hips, and they moved up his waist and settled upon his chest. She felt his heart, much more human than her own, its rhythm soothing and warm, and she thought she might stand like this with him forever.

He pulled away from the kiss first, but leaned to rest his forehead against hers, his hands still clutching her tear-stained cheeks. She looked up into his dark green eyes, only inches away.

"My lady," he whispered. "Why cannot this be so?"

"My lord and king forbids it." Yet her heart raced, and she felt so warm. She could never admit to her kind how much she enjoyed the warmth of humankind.

"Surely your lord and king would understand our love, would he not?"

"It is not his place, Merlin." She stepped back from him and stared out over the loch. "Only the king is permitted a life-mate, for our kind must not propagate beyond what is ordained by Water. As His champions, we risk upsetting the Balance between the Elements, should we allow our power to spread." She turned to face him again. "It cannot be. You are an ordained Druid of the Order, tasked only with maintaining Balance. You must understand what is at stake."

"Nimue," he said, simply, and she blinked. Never had he called her by name, and her entire body tingled with desire for this man, this human. He recognized her desire and reached for her again, pulling her back into his arms.

"Merlin," she protested, weakly, tears overflowing again. "We cannot."

He kissed her cheeks, her temples, her forehead. He leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"My darling, beautiful Nimue, I am naught but human. I am Druid, beholden to Earth and Air, a magician in my own right. How could our union upset Balance? Surely it could only strengthen it."

She backed her head away, startled, so that she could look into his eyes again. She marveled that even there, did his warmth seem to find a home.

"Our kind are borne of magic," she said. "I am not even sure a union would be possible."

"Our kind are borne of love," he replied, his gaze never wavering from hers. "There is a special kind of magic among mortals, a magic that is not understood by the immortal beings. We do not merely create progeny."

He paused.

"We create life."

She shuddered. "Your lives are so fleeting."

"We burn like the sun, like the hottest fire," he replied, without hesitation, his voice dripping with passion, his eyes burning with that fire. She wanted the fire, so badly.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head, but her body betrayed her, and she pressed closer to him, drawing on the warmth of this man. She thought of King Galmuiri, of her sacred quest. In her mind, she flashed back to the boy, the young prince who would be king, whom she would make into a legend. Already, the ancient sword rested in its home on the isle of Avalon, waiting for its bearer. She knew Merlin would stand at his side. She knew many things that would come to pass. But this... this she did not know. The Oracle had foreseen nothing of a union between leviathan and human. What she did know was that she was doomed to haunt the waters of this loch for the rest of her immortal existence, to frighten the local humans with her serpentine presence. She knew nothing of love, of warmth, of burning like a fire.

Burning out like a fire. For Merlin would die one day, leaving Nimue alone, forever alone.

"You'll leave me," she said.

"One day, I confess, but not for many years. And I can leave you with a memory and a legacy," he said," borne of life. Life, for mortals, is borne of love. So can it be for you as well, if you find love. If you would only let me, I would show you my love, share the secrets of life. We could share in this magic. Love me, Nimue."

And she did. Her heart overflowed with every feeling she was not permitted to feel, and she loved him.

"Merlin, darling," said Nimue softly, gazing over the waking face of her human lover. She smiled. "I have the most wonderful news."

Merlin blinked sleep out of his eyes and tried to meet her own, but he could not keep them open. She smiled again and leaned over him, kissing his cheek. She leaned farther and whispered into his ear:

"We shall call him Lancelot."

She backed away to watch his reaction, and Merlin's eyes popped open wide. A grin overtook his face, and he reached up to touch her belly. She smiled at him.

"We have together created new magic," said she, "and he shall burn like the hottest fire. He shall serve his king with great honor, and in legend, he will be immortal."

She paused, and her smile turned sad. She touched his cheek.

"As will you, my love."