Notes:

It's set in the Cursed tv verse with influence from the legends.

I decided to use post-Vulgate Cycle Arthurian tellings because in them there is the existence of two different ladies of the lake so this introduction could make sense. Vivian (Or as I call her in this Vivienne), who dies at King Balin's hand, and Nimue, who's known for being the one to trap Merlin as well as his lover and adopting Sir Lancelot - Obviously I will not be following the route because she's too young to be Lancelot's adoptive mother and she's Merlin's daughter in this (Weird choice writers, but okay). Multiple POVs.

P.S. This is the first draft because I'm lazy and once I finish something, I never want to see it again so it is what it is. WARNING! Grammar and punctuation errors will definitely exist. This will probably be very true for all other chapters to come. Will update at least once a week, when in quarantine you know! Would love to hear your thoughts.

The Dying Girl in a Watery Grave (Nimue P.O.V.)

She was suspended in the water for what seemed like forever, Nimue felt as if she was frozen in place and couldn't move around no matter how much she may wish to. Rather the water moved her and dragged her below with such strength. Almost as if it were trying to claim her as it's own. An odd thought on its own, however, this was an extraordinary moment.

She was bleeding out, the blood surrounding her, the sight filling her eyes as soon as she dared to open them. Yet she didn't feel like she was dying, she didn't feel anything at all really. Not the piercing pain of the arrowheads as they lodged into her body, nor could she even acknowledge the pain from the strain on her arm from the effort of hanging onto her father just before her fall. Not even the pain she should feel in her lungs if she were drowning desperate to breathe air once more.

No, she was all alone, displaced from time and it seemed space as well. Not even the company of pain to remind her she still belonged to the land of the living. Or maybe the lack of pain meant she was already dead? She hoped it didn't. She can't just be done. The story can't end here. Her people were in danger, Squirrel was in danger. Morgana and her father were left to face what was left of the Red Paladins and Iris alone. And Arthur… what of Arthur? Did he save them in her place? Or did he die bleeding for a lost cause in her name? NO. His story can't end here!

"Don't worry dear Nimue, it doesn't end here. Not for Arthur and not for your people," a soft feminine voice spoke to her in her mind. It shocked her, could it be the hidden finally speaking to her after remaining so quiet for so long?

"No, daughter of Lenore, I am not of the hidden, nor are you going mad. I am merely Vivienne, The Lady of the Lake. There is no death here for you. Nor is there death here for me, at least not yet," the voice – no, Vivienne – answered Nimue's question rather cryptically.

What do you want from me, she pushed the thought urgently to the forefront of her mind, confusion, and suspicion rising.

"Me? Nothing. I want nothing from you," she paused, "Fate, on the other hand, wants everything from you."

With those words, she's suddenly blasted into darkness, the pain growing in her temples. Before she flooded with visions, so many of them all at once – what has been, what is, and finally what will be. Her body finally moving, shaking with the great power surging inside her, foreign to her and much greater than her own. STOP! Her mind seemed to scream. She didn't know how long it had been but it had felt like an eternity, and the pain never stopped at any moment.

"Do not fret, Nimue, for Fate has given a gift to you. The gift of Destiny." She spoke only with warmth, as if in an effort to comfort.

"This is no gift at all. It is a Curse!" Nimue managed to scream. She didn't dwell on her ability to speak within the waters of this lake, she knew the reason. She was shown it. "We're cursed by Fate. All of us. Not one of us is spared."

"There are those of us who are cursed to die to make way for a great king, with no more thought spared our way," Her thoughts went to Uther, her enemy, the vision of him at his deathbed, trying to grasp at some sort of legacy. Yet it is futile, and she can't help but feel pity as he won't be alone.

Again, she spoke, "Cursed to suffer for nothing only to be forgotten by the world." Her thoughts went to the visions of Pym, her perfect Pym, her suffering at the loss of love, home, and family. And then to the future that will be in a long, distant time from now where she remains unacknowledged by history. Her heart ached for her, she called on the memory of her as she knew her for strength to continue, "Cursed to live to go such great lengths to achieve the impossible, only for a friend to receive all the glory." Her Squirrel. The vision of him as a man no longer Squirrel, only Percival, strong in her mind. And filled her with anger in her heart. Though he too should have been rewarded for all his efforts in reaching the Holy Grail, he too was slighted by this 'gift' of destiny.

"Cursed to turn to darkness and letting consume her, leaving all friends and family and love behind," she felt a deep sorrow fill her, for the vision of Morgana shrinking into herself, becoming a shadow of herself and forced to dwell in that life for decades. There was no one on earth who Nimue felt could deserve it less.

"Cursed to fall so deeply in love and betray in the name of that love, even if it means damning the very man and kingdom they both love so dearly," Visions of the man whose presence gave her terror at the destruction of her village and the death of a great number of its people including her mother suddenly filled her mind, as he stood within a throne room, Arthur's throne room, he seemed less a monster and more a man. No sight of the coldness long spoken of the Weeping Monk by her people, especially not as his eyes landed near the throne, on the queen – to Guinevere. The Red Spear. An unspoken love and devotion were obvious in the monk's, no Lancelot's eyes. She was filled with anger on Arthur's behalf, at them, at their destiny, and at Fate most of all.

"Cursed to be trapped in a tree forever by a creature bearing the face of family," she angrily began sobbing. For it would be her face that traps her father to a tree for eternity and she would never be able to reconcile with him again.

She continued her tirade, anger, and sorrow were all she could feel. "Cursed to watch himself be betrayed by many so near and dear to him while he must go on in the name of a new age, only to die for that very reason." The visions of Arthur began to fill her mind, however, she shook her head and forced herself to move past it. Arthur, my Arthur.

"I REFUSE." She declared defiantly, "I refuse it, I will not lie in wait in a lake for the rest of my life and watch these events occur, I will not allow such suffering. I will not!"

"Fate will not be denied, Nimue," the lady spoke in an effort to calm her down, growing as impatient as if dealing with a child.

Willing all the power of the hidden to her, her anger breaking through whatever magical barrier the water had created. Feeling secure with the magic circulating around her once more, she loudly declared, "She WILL be. By me. I will not become you." And with that, she used all the power she could to blast herself out and away from the waters.

She gasped around for breath once she was secure on dry land. The world around her looking all shiny and new… and different. It was only then that Nimue realized she had used so much uncontrolled power, she had landed in a place she has never known before. She didn't know where she was and come to think of it, neither did she know when she was. For who could tell how long she had remained underwater?

Only one question now bouncing around in her mind: what the hell is she going to do?