Nimue's calls had been unintentional, for the most part. She was in a panic, reaching out for her destiny, and Merlin was that destiny. Or, he had been. The stone was still on her bedside table, untouched.
When Nimue felt Merlin's arrival, it felt distant and strange. It was like she couldn't focus on anything. She tried to climb to her feet but failed, sliding back into the fetal position. Water was leaking from the broken sink onto the floor, and she had bled onto her satin nightgown. What a mess.