Controlling
Title: Controlling
Author: Amata le Fay
Story: Force-Benders
Flavor(s): Chocolate Chip Mint 27 (dangerous), Peach Pie 11 (equality before the law), Flavor of the Day (fabulist: a liar; a person who invents or relates fables)
Toppings: Butterscotch, Sprinkles, Hot Fudge
Extras: None
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 463
Notes: Fourth in a series revolving around evil!Merlin and Nimuë; first part here, second part here, and third here. Concrit always appreciated.
He watches her sleep every night. There's something about it that satisfies him-how beautiful and natural she looks in the dim torchlight, perhaps, or how sweet and innocent her thoughts are when she's dreaming. Reassurance that she is, in fact, his-that nothing ever has the chance to come between them. He needs to be with Nimuë day and night, every hour of her time devoted to him. Just as she spends every hour of his time watching his every move, twisting and twirling him around her little finger.
After all, theirs is an atmosphere of constant deception, smoke and mirrors everywhere. One manipulating the other, the supposed loser forming plots and plans of their own in response. A haze of lies so thick that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth is unthinkable. Both of them are born liars, able to fabricate tales out of thin air as easily as breathing.
No doubt this is what Morgan le Fay had planned for the girl-distract him, immerse him in a world of treachery, lust and adventure so that he won't see the fatal blow coming. He has seen it coming a mile away, though, and isn't going to let those Force-Benders of the Resistance or whatever they're called take his throne so easily.
That's not to say that he doesn't enjoy his time with the seductress. He loves it. All those pretenses add a whole new dimension to their relationship-they make it more of a thrill, that way. And no Magician can ever stay out of danger.
He leans in closer, a breath away from where she lies sleeping, affectionately tucking a strand of flaxen hair behind her ear. Oh, yes, she is beautiful indeed. Perhaps when this Resistance is all over with, he can spend the rest of his days with her. But not now. Now, there's work to do.
He glances down at the open pages of his dusty leather spell book and then back at his lover. Slowly, he begins to trace patterns into her skin with his index finger, ancient runes and symbols for hellyntae, rivata, elasalivaga kaskylvalta. He murmurs “cypsa,” and the markings glow with an ice-blue light and then fade into the woman's skin, invisible to any eyes but his. Smiling, he kisses her neck and settles next to her in the bed.
Merlin doesn't need to trust her. He doesn't need to trust anyone. Just because she is almost his equal in trickery does not mean she cannot be tricked by him, just as her being his lover does not make her exempt from being controlled like a puppet.
A storm is coming, and when it does, Nimuë Vivienne du Loch is going to be on his side, be it her intention or not.