Trading Lives

‘Such a good boy,’ Nimueh complimented ironically. ‘Well, then…’

 

She shifted in one smooth movement and stood up, leaving him sprawled pathetically on the ground like a fish gaping for water. His full mouth were slightly parted, breathing deeply as she freed him, and for a second Nimueh wanted to claim what was hers right then and there. Merlin, his raw power, his pure body; this young warlock could give her more than anyone else in all those decades of living like a shadow behind Camelot’s turned back. And she already had him in her net.

 

‘You may go. Your mother is safe, her illness will heal soon.’

 

After a few painful heartbeats Merlin shifted from the ground as well, his reluctant body ready to betray him and collapse any moment. He looked so adolescent, so wrathful; and yet Nimueh realized that deep inside this young man was already broken and devastated by the turn of events he didn’t expect. This will be interesting.

 

‘And when…,’ Merlin stuttered nervously, looking somewhere between her feet, defeated. ‘When are you to…to finish this?’

 

Nimueh couldn’t help but smile at his naïve question. Merlin apparently did believe that everything will be over as soon as they touch. Well…he’d found out, eventually. When time’s right.

 

‘Do you know where the Crimson Chamber is, Merlin?’

 

He gulped and bit his lip.

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘Tonight, when first stars appear on the sky – meet me there.’

 

 

***

 

Merlin was lying completely still in his bed as the sky started to darken dangerously, realizing that never in his life had he been so terrified about what was going to happen. He could almost hear minutes passing in his head, counting every breath until the moment he’d have to encounter Nimueh again, facing her humiliating defiance. His forehead was sweaty and he felt cold shivers freezing and piercing his flesh like tiny ice splinters as he finally stood up, leaving his room and passing through sleeping Gaius as quiet as he could.

 

The Crimson Chamber was placed in a deserted southern tower, far away from this part of the Camelot castle everyone lived at this moment. No one could ever enter, and if anyone dared, Uther Pendragon was sure to take that fool’s head right where he stood.

The Crimson Chamber belonged to Igraine, many years ago, and the mere thought of staining this place was probably driving Nimueh over the edge.

 

Merlin took a deep breath before placing his white palm on the handle and entered the chamber as he’d enter a dragon’s lair.

 

‘You’re just in time, my dear warlock.’

 

It was dark inside, the room lit only by a few candles; their fire matching deeply red cushions and curtains. Merlin turned his head and looked straight into Nimueh’s eyes.

As soon as his heated sight slid down her perfectly fine body he realized that she wasn’t wearing anything at all, anything in spite of her usual collected composure. Delicate, ivory skin and deliciously curved lines of her silhouette on the bed made Merlin’s ears redden at once and he averted his gaze, mortified.

 

‘It’s a first time you can see a woman like this, is it not, Merlin?’ Nimueh’s voice sang in his ears, screaming for him to look at her again, to drink up this sight of perfection and give everything up, to surrender. ‘It’s perfectly fine for you to look…I want you to.’

 

His face was burning and he couldn’t move from where he was standing, petrified.

 

‘But I don’t want to look at you.’ Merlin answered after a pained while,  forcing his voice to stay bitter, but failing miserably. ‘ I don’t want any of this to happen, and you know that.’

 

‘I am perfectly aware. But it’s not about what youwant, Merlin. It’s about what you have to. Now, look at me. ’

 

And this time he did.

 

Nimueh smiled seductively catching his innocent gaze and parted her legs in an intimate manner, as if revealing her secrets to him, only to him. Only for him.

Merlin couldn’t help a gasp escaping his mouth at her enticing movement, his eyes entirely focused on this special place between her thighs he’d never seen before ; her womanhood open and waiting. He was urging himself to look away but couldn’t, cursing his own weakness and cursing his body, which had already started to respond against his will.

 

‘Please…’ he said, not entirely sure what he was pleading for.

 

Nimueh reached her slender, beautiful hand towards him in a gesture of sinful invitation.