Disclaimer: Hallmarks „Merlin" does not belong to me, and neither do the characters. A violation of copy rights is not intended.
A/N: I wrote this very short piece after re-reading one of the reviews I got for my last story, Darker than Ebony. So this might sound a little familiar to you, don't worry, that's normal. In case you are wondering why the hell my stories always take place in bedrooms, or why the hell I am not able to come up with an actual storyline or even a plot…then I am sorry, I don't know the answer to that either. ;)
English is not my first language, so please have mercy, I am trying my best.
PLEASE read and review!
For my dreams I hold my life
He was hot. He couldn't remember the room ever being this warm. The fire in the fireplace seemed to be raging, but he couldn't hear the familiar creaking of burning wood, nor the fluttering of flames. His eyelids felt heavy…so heavy. He tried to reach for his sheets, but they had been kicked off hours ago.
Something felt terribly wrong.
He wasn't as young anymore as he once used to be, but his sense for self-protection was still strong.
He knew he had to open his eyes, to make sure everything was alright, even though it seemed to be the most painful thing to do in this very moment.
When he did, he regretted it immediately.
His whole body flinched as he laid eyes on her, but at the same time, he went into some sort of shock. Unable to move, he just stared at her, because it seemed the only possible thing to do.
She sat on top of him, on her knees, naked. Perfectly shaped legs resting at his sides. Long, silky black hair came down in cascades, and protected most of her body from his gaze, but he was able to vaguely discern flawlessly rounded breasts.
Her eyes were closed, but her face wasn't relaxed. She seemed to be thinking, concentrated, waiting for something to happen.
His eyes left her face, wandering deeper. Her skin was as white as snow, and he knew if his mind wasn't as preoccupied with being scared to death, he'd reach out to caress the immaculate skin around her navel.
She wore a heavy, golden crown on her head, manufactured in a fashion he had never seen before. It seemed to be woven into her dark hair in the most complicated manner. A high forehead, a straight, small nose and full rosy lips… She was beautiful. In fact, she was so beautiful it hurt, and made your heart break in two. He had never been this scared in his whole life.
Not a sound was to be heard, but the air in the bedroom was notably different. It seemed to be hot and cold at the same time, always shifting, never still.
Suddenly she opened her eyes. They were grey…or green, he couldn't tell. But he knew that these eyes didn't belong to a human woman. They seemed more suitable for a wolf. He had no idea if she was breathing, and quite frankly, he wasn't even sure if he himself was still breathing.
Her face was an unmoving mask. He hadn't noticed the dagger before, but suddenly it was there, her hands folding around its handle. She lifted it in the air, stretching her own body. He noticed the skin of her throat glowing. So she was breathing after all…
The dagger came down and drove into his flesh painfully.
King Arthur awoke screaming.
I know this is not the best thing I have ever written, but I needed to get it out of my head. I might actually continue this, just to make this more complete. Please tell me what you think of it.