Episode: The Poisoned Chalice
Category: Het
Rating/Warnings: T
Author's Note: In honor of Nimueh's lovers.
Her eyes would remind him of cornflowers, bluebells, or perhaps a summer sky, so brilliantly blue and mesmerizing that he'd find himself incapable of forming a coherent sentence whenever he was in her presence. She'd never seem to mind, however – those lush lips would curve into a gentle smile before parting to bestow some compliment he'd be certain he'd done nothing to deserve.
She'd take him to her bed then, this servant or squire or merchant's son, forever young and handsome as she preferred. And for a short time she'd love him, or at least as far as she was capable of loving anyone in the aftermath of a lifetime filled with grief. She'd be everything he'd ever dreamed of and then some, to soothe her own guilt over how it must end, and in part because she was lonely, too, desperate for even the barest facsimile of a world where she wasn't doomed to wander alone for the rest of her days.
For that brief interlude, they might even be happy… until the day arrived when he inadvertently got a little too close, perhaps learned some secret that was not his right to know. That would be the day she'd have no choice but to dispose of him, else risk the exposure of a revenge that was twenty years in the making. For no matter how sweet he might be, how tender and charming and devoted, her determination to see Uther Pendragon fall would always be more important than the needs of her heart.
She'd kill him then, with a grim faced expression that betrayed none of her true feelings. But he'd never know the truth, nor recognize her as his murderer even as he drew his final breath.
He'd never know because even in this terrible act, the sorceress was not entirely devoid of mercy. Heavy, languid, she'd coax him into his final rest with a smile on his lips and a kiss upon his brow... deeper, deeper into the yawning darkness, with no trace of fear or pain to sully his final glimpse of her beautiful blue eyes.
And if he were aware of his own demise at all, it might occur to him that there were certainly worse ways to die.