For Rosaria Marie
~oOo~
He paused at the entrance of her room, for in it she appeared transformed. Any sign of pain or worry was absent from her features while she was absorbed in holy words. The woman he spied on was the woman he knew before the fire.
Looking away from sacred scripture and to the presence she'd felt, a smile spread across her lips. Her eyes were backlit by happiness.
She rose from her bed and came to him slowly, walking through shafts of gold light. On the ledges of windows, on tables and shelves, were candles flickering in the draft of the abbey. The room was of the sun. Even the corner shadows contained warmth.
Merlin leaned forward, reaching out to embrace her. It had been so long since they'd seen each other. In the mild air, they could the same as feel the time passed since last they were together. As he kissed her, the doubt that plagued Nimue in his absence, the fear that they would never be together, faded.
Merlin would serve his kings. He would fight the wars of others, but in the end, after all of England's suffering and their own, there would be peace. Nimue believed it with all of her being.
It was effortless to give into hope as Merlin stood beside her, blending with wax and flames, dried herbs and flowers. His positive nature was to Nimue akin to an inescapable ray of light.
Merlin was of the air; a trait of his dark mother made light. He carried the element with him always, as though an emotion. Nimue could sense it, even if Merlin was unaware. It was as if his spirit detached itself from his body whenever he was indoors so as to alleviate his discomfort. He was away over the fields now, on his way back at Camelot, though his body remained in Avalon.
Nimue was all he wanted, all he needed, besides a peaceful future for England. He was all she wanted outside her love of God. Yet, their happiness seemed to be the one thing the world wanted to prevent them from knowing.
There was always someone or something calling Merlin away from the woman he loved.
Merlin's hand went over the cowl covering Nimue's head, as though his hands were passing through her hair, before moving to her temple. The soft weave of his olive sweater grazed her chin as she turned to regard him.
His eyes were full of mischief, smiling with an inner light.
~oOo~