#daily life in camelot

[ispaintingcalmly]

Camelot sketches (I’ll probably add more in the future)

[dollopole]

Let’s take into consideration:

Arthur would rather waste precious time before an important council meeting to run around the entire castle and search for Merlin, who, in his very honest opinion is the worst servant of the entire kingdom or that he had ever known, than to call literally anyone else to help him dress (as if there wouldn’t be anyone ready to assist Arthur, their king, with clothes);

Arthur, and therefore Agravaine (which makes it all the more hilarious) knows every single place where Merlin could be, at that precise moment, or during that day in general; (EDIT: As someone pointed out in the comments, everyone and Agravaine included knows who is the “dollophead”)

The guards nod to Agravaine without asking anything, which only means that it is canon that everyone in Camelot knows Merlin by name; EDIT: It also means that the guards deal with this on a daily basis. They must be tired.

The aforementioned point implies that everyone knows how Merlin looks like, that also means Merlin is known to never leave Arthur’s side, even during council meetings;

Arthur is running around the castle in what today we would call a pyjama, just because Merlin didn’t wake him up with, “Rise and Shine”. And he’s barefoot. That’s right. The king of Camelot, everyone, has just walked barefoot in Merlin’s chambers, in the armoury, where other knights probably are, and in the bloody stables (yes, the ones where the horses and their dungs both are), without boots on, just to look for Merlin;

Arthur is more distressed in this scene than in the one where Morgana declares war in season five. He’s fretting like a mother hen. Not only he is without breath, which means he was just coming back from his checking around, but he is red in the face and almost yelling in desperation. “Does he expect me to dress myself?!” Because apparently, Arthur literally cannot do anything without Merlin by his side. The way he says, “No sign of him” to Agravaine is so endearing, and he shouldn’t be this adorable. Unfair, Arthur. Really unfair.

Arthur just yells, (and distressingly looks around) in hope that Merlin will come back to him, because he always does. *sounds of my heart breaking into millions of pieces*

And last but not least, Arthur shouts, “Last night!”, which means the actual reason he’s going around searching for Merlin, it’s because he’s worried his world will end without his quirky and clumsy servant by his side (and the love of his life). Merlin is currently out on a quest with Gwaine to look for Gaius, since he has been kidnapped, but the problem is that Arthur doesn’t know this. What he knows is that he has fought with Merlin the day before about Gaius in the council chambers, and believes Merlin is gone for good, this time, and solely for the fight they had. Arthur feels more than guilty that he can’t make it up to his best friend, the love of his life (Agravaine helped Morgana kidnap Gaius, and it explains the ending of the scene, where he understands where Merlin is.) Now Arthur is worried that his last words to Merlin were harsh. He had last seen him when he was done with his duties the night before, and then Merlin disappeared.

No wonder they deleted this scene.

[amirmeavid]

PART 2

Full disclosure I was not expecting people to like my ramblings as much as they did, and i'm running low on ideas 😭 . (Part 1: https://www.tumblr.com/amirmeavid/762962965752332288/i-know-the-fandom-generally-agrees-merlin-and?source=share)

Visiting Diplomat: I have heard stories of Camelot's noble pursuit for the eradication of the vile performance that is sorc-

Merlin: *head on arthur's shoulder as he levitates a cup to drink from*

Arthur: *raising eyebrow* Why did you stop? You were talking about Camelot's magic ban.

Diplomat: *blinks multiple times* sorcery... v-vile?

Merlin: *hmmms in mock approval* Its wonderful to know how much you trust Camelot's decisions.

Serving girl: *gets very nervous, accidentally makes a mini explosion at the centre of the table*

Nobles: *have been stewing over the past week of merlin being 'public' with his magic* Sorcery! She's a witc-

Merlin: Don't be ridiculous. Its my new trick. I picked it up from a jester.

Particularly brave Noble: Forgive me your highness, but i highly doubt that was a mere trick...

Merlin: *Makes the table explode again, eyes very obviously gold* See? Its a sleight of hand!

Noble:

Noble:

Arthur: *visibly trying not to die of laughter*

Merlin: *is going about his daily business, levitating Arthur's sword to him when he is interrupted by a fucking scream*

New Knight: *pointing at the levitating sword, looking around wildly because why is no one else saying anything?!*

Magic-(hating?) Noble: Oh shut your mouth boy. Thats our king-consort. Of course its not sorcery. He just practices sleight of hand.

New Knight: ... *is having a mental breakdown, because what?*

Merlin: Sleight of hand. Its becoming increasingly common you know. I can teach it to you if you want

Arthur: *with all his regal prattiness* As a knight of the realm, you should be educated about all facets of life. Imagine. If it weren't for good sir 'Magic-(hating?) Noble', you may have accused your King Consort of sorcery!

Merlin: *dramatically* Imagine.

Poor Knight: ...yes sire.

[tossawary]

One of the more amusing narrative constructions in "Merlin" to me is how explicitly magic is tied to medicine from the very beginning of the show, with the healer Gaius as Merlin's mentor in both medicine and (secretly) in magic.

The third episode deals with a magically created plague in Camelot (which frankly seems like it should have killed WAY more people than they show dying, if it was in the water and as deadly as they suggest) and from the beginning, Merlin is like, "I can use magic to fix this. Let me use magic to help. I can save all of these people's lives." And Gaius stops him because he fears Uther will find out somehow. (You can also suppose that magic usually requires greater training than Merlin has, and fighting/curing a malevolent plague would burn most sorcerers out very quickly, and Gaius has no real concept yet of just how badly Merlin's gifts break the curve.)

Later in the episode, Merlin ignores Gaius in order to secretly cure Gwen's father. This quickly becomes a disaster because Arthur notices this quick recovery and finds the physical charm used, Gwen is blamed, and Uther decides to go straight to an execution about it because he sucks. But Merlin was RIGHT that he could cure the plague! Apparently with relatively little effort on his part! (Possibly because he's a freak of nature among sorcerers, admittedly!) It is a magical plague, potentially more of a curse than a virus, presumably working on different rules, but still!

It really underlines that all of these people are dying JUST because of Uther and Nimueh's conflict. Firstly because Nimueh is trying to get her revenge against Uther in the worst way possible, a plague, and secondly because Uther won't let anyone use magic to fight back.

In the next episode (4), it's all about Arthur getting a (magic?) flower to cure the (magic?) poison that Merlin drank. Episode 6, which I haven't rewatched yet, features another magical healer, come to take revenge against Uther for the death of his healer parents. In many of these cases, it's magical remedy versus magic cause, but it seems not unreasonable to assume that magic could still be very useful when dealing with non-magical ailments.

In fantasy worlds, I personally tend towards the idea that magic would just be another form of technology, and in many cases would be integrated with all other human technology in society. (Cooking! Humans LOVE cooking! Not starving is the #1 societal concern throughout much of history! Magic, if practical, would be used for a LOT of food-related stuff.) Obviously, there are fantasy worlds where magic is new in the world or sourced from evil demons or whatever, or there may be some anti-magic ideology for another reason, so people in those worlds wouldn't use magic casually. Magic, its origins and its cost, is different in every fantasy world, of course!

But in pre-Purge Camelot here, it very much seems that magic was a practical skill that would have been useful during daily life, even just to boil water or have a light in the dark. Maybe the gifts are relatively rare and the training is difficult for most people, but it seems like most people who work in medicine would want to have as much knowledge about magic as possible, even if they themselves can't really do any spells, and do not become druids or priestesses or anything like that. There seem to be a significant amount of magical plants and animals here, which would be crucial to the work.

So, uh, it looks like Uther's Purge would have primarily targeted anyone with medical knowledge. The equivalent of this society's doctors, nurses, and pharmacists. Healers, midwives, alchemists, and anyone else who refused to give up a useful tool that could save lives. Also anyone who made their living selling protective charms or magical herbs or any small thing that could have helped during a plague. Uther's Purge presumably wiped out Camelot's ENTIRE existing medical infrastructure.

Camelot has SEWERS somehow. And why wouldn't magic have been used in the construction and maintenance of a sewer system? If magic is a practical tool, it would have absolutely been used in waste disposal* and water filtration.

*EDIT: Yes, I know that the shown sewers aren't used for waste, obviously. I phrased this poorly. These sewers ARE directly connected to drinking water in the show, however, and the human waste that is generated by a city (which is a lot) getting into this system somehow would be a serious concern. SEPARATELY, I do think magic would have uses in regards to waste disposal. I don't think that these specific sewers are for waste, just that magic could be a tool for their cleanliness.

(Mulling over the potential headcanon that the only reason Nimueh's plague wasn't worse is because Camelot still has hidden layers of various magical protections holding over, even 20 years later. No one has been recasting the old Circles of Protections on the castle lately because very smart CEO Uther Pendragon has also killed most of the custodial and IT departments. "It's fine," he says, "there is no measurable difference," when Camelot is teetering on the edge of catastrophic failure several times a season.)

Like, uh, no wonder Uther can't get a single huzzah even when he announces a festival. It's the anniversary of this shitty king killing nearly all the doctors and outlawing Camelot's equivalent of vaccines and antibiotics. I'd hate his guts. Infant mortality probably skyrocketed. Do you think that people who live near the borders of Camelot regularly sneak one kingdom over to visit the nearest healer? I do. I'm imagining that some noblewoman in Camelot gets pregnant and then immediately goes to stay with her sister for a little while in the neighboring kingdom, because that king over there didn't kill all of the damn midwives. Fucking hell.

[demonicbaby666]

Me and the Devil

Kinktober 2023 | Once Upon a Time Masterlist | Masterlists

Fandom: Once Upon a Time

Pairing: Dark swan x fem!reader

Genre: smut & angst

Words: 2.1k+

Warnings: fingering, public sex (sorta), bit of violence, toxic relationship

Summary: Ever since she became the dark one, Emma has developed a habit of keeping those she didn't like around you away. The problem came when she decided that that was everyone.

A/n: wrote this in a day... enjoy xxx

Emma had changed. Of course, after Camelot, everyone saw it. The difference was seen not only in her appearance but in her regard to those around her, and the balance between right and wrong had dramatically shifted in the saviour-turned-dark one's mind. You'd learnt the hard way that Emma had become an enforcer of her rules. Therein lied a modicum of problems, one being poor sneezy had been turned to stone - alongside other menial townsfolk Emma deemed insignificant - another problem being anyone who set their eyes on you, romantically or platonically didn't matter, would pay a heavy price. 

It started small. Whale was one of the first. His punishment for leering was the removal of something the man held to the utmost importance - the ability to get 'it' up. Then came the bartender at the rabbit hole, who paid particular attention to you. At first, it was a free drink here and there, which was fine, but then he got a little too loose-lipped. As you exited with one very drunk Ruby, who was clinging onto Belle for dear life, you saw a dark silhouette in the alleyway next to the bar and a bloodied figure on the floor weeping. 

Though it was initially amusing, and you appreciated the gesture, being that creepy men never dared to flirt or check you out again, you never said. In fact, you made a point of never addressing Emma at all. You simply assumed she punished people who made you uncomfortable in an attempt to assuage the resentment you felt towards her for becoming the dark one. But as time passed, the justice the former saviour dished out became far too severe - and often unwarranted. 

You'd feel her eyes on you everywhere you went, sometimes in the privacy of your own home. Looking into a reflective surface, you could almost pick out the green hue of her eyes. People were scared to come within two feet of you, and the list of townsfolk who once smiled and waved to you from across the street or stopped to chat with you lessened and lessened. Now, only those closest to you dared to be in your presence, and sometimes, they, too, kept a wary eye out. 

Despite the predicament you found yourself in, you refused to pay Emma any attention. You went about your daily routine: work, catch-ups, meetings with the merry band of heroes and, of course, your magic lessons with Regina. 

"What were you doing?" A familiar voice called out from behind you as you closed the door to the mausoleum. 

Letting out an exasperated sigh and debating just walking back into the tomb, you brought your fingers to your temples and traced soothing circles, the presence of a headache already looming, "Hello to you too, Swan." 

"I asked you a question." The blonde seized your wrist and spun you around to face her. 

"Stuff," you snidely answered, raising a challenging eyebrow. 

The grip on your wrist tightened, but you trained your face to remain impassive and unbothered, "Don't be a brat. It's not cute when you're fully dressed." She snapped, "Now tell me what you were doing." 

You snatched your hand back, "I was with Regina."

"Doing what?" 

"You know what." You replied, rolling your eyes.

Emma took a step forward, trapping you between her body and the grand red doors of the tomb. Olive eyes scanned your body head-to-toe before Emma smacked her hand down next to your head, "Did she touch you?" 

"That's none of your business," the older woman clenched her jaw, and the rising veins in her neck led you to believe it would be in your best interest to answer her, "No, she didn't touch me." you huffed and looked out into the vast expanse of the graveyard. 

Grey smoke bathed her flattened palm, "Prove it." She smugly smirked. 

Your head snapped back to the blonde, and her shit-eating grin struck a nerve in you. She looked so sure of herself, so conceited that you so desperately wanted to prove her wrong - just for the sake of chipping at her inflated ego. 

"Give me that stupid thing!" You said, snatching the dream catcher from her hands. Closing your eyes, you focussed on your time with Regina, channelling the memory of the lesson to appear across the intricate face of entwined string. A series of flashing images appeared before they settled. You bore your eyes accusingly into Emma as she witnessed the innocent encounter between two friends, "Now you've seen. Nothing happened. Are you happy now, Dark One?" 

Choosing her new title was a low blow, but the occasion called for it. In truth, you owed her nothing. You hadn't needed to answer her when she asked what you'd be doing. The moment she donned those black clothes and her name was etched in metal, she'd as good as lost you. You both knew it, yet one of you was more stubborn to accept it. 

Emma turned her nose up at you, "She put her hands on you."

"You mean the two-second goodbye hug?" Your frustration levels were rising, and with them, your disregard for volume control, "You've got to be fucking kidding me." The statement bellowed across the graveyard, bouncing off cracked headstones and finally dissipating in the distant fog. 

This situation had indeed aggravated you. The notion that Emma had some claim over you was maddening, especially since she was unwilling to act in any other way aside from threatening and enacting violence upon anyone who stood too close to you. 

The anger that coiled in your jaw and forced your knuckles white fought heavily in your chest to be set free, and why shouldn't it? Emma was being unreasonable, and you didn't have to endure it any longer. 

Closing your eyes, you took a few deep breaths, waiting till your heart stopped hammering against your chest to look at the blonde. With a stern and controlled voice, you spoke again, "I'm not doing this." 

Pushing past her to walk away, as in the theme of things, was not straightforward. The moment your foot touched down on the plot of land in front of you, your body was propelled backwards and thrown against the concrete wall of the mausoleum. The dark one clutched the empty space between her palms with an outstretched hand. Though she was not touching you, the feel of her fingers clamped around your neck so tight you fought to breathe. 

Thrashing your legs, determinedly attempting to find purchase on the unreachable ground and clawing at the wall, you shot daggers at the woman who stood before you. Her actions, despite her swearing otherwise, strikingly resembled those of a villain.

"Emma, stop this!" You croaked, "Let me go." 

Blood-red lips thinned into a malevolent grimace, "I will never let you go. You belong with me. To me."

"You're full of shit," You spat, ignoring the stars swimming in your vision and the shaking in your chest, "I will never be yours, not whilst you continue this frivolous crusade of yours." 

The former saviour surged forward the moment she released her hold on you, roughly pinning you to the wall with both the weight of her body and her hands clamped to your waist. The smell of magic danced in the air, and your worst fear was confirmed when you weren't able to move your hands. She had you where she wanted you. Trapped.

Lessons with Regina had only taught you the basics of magic, but that didn't stop you from fruitlessly trying to untangle yourself from the grasp of Emma's dark magic. 

"My magic is too strong for that," she stated proudly, inching closer. There was the ego again. 

Bringing your head slightly back, with all your strength driving it forward, you thrust your forehead into that aggravating grin. It'd leave a nasty bruise, but you didn't care. The blonde's head fell back, though that was the only response. Her hold on you was still firm. 

She spat to the side, leaving a tiny crimson puddle of saliva, then turned to you, a false pout on her bloodied lips, "Well, that wasn't very nice." 

"Fuck you." 

"Be nice." she chided, her anger visibly growing. 

"Or what?" you seethed between your teeth. 

The two of you stood in silence, searing holes into one another. Tension in the air mounted with each rushed breath, and your bodies burned with molten fury. 

"Brat," she whispered, inching forward. 

"Brute." 

The second you glanced down at her lips, it was game over. Emma closed the space between you and dominated your mouth instantly, plunging her tongue inside and coaxing a low moan from you. 

This woman had made your life a living hell. She'd done nothing to rectify her wrongdoings, never sought you out directly to make peace or even explain what had led up to her choosing to amass the title of 'The Dark One'. And somehow, none of that mattered because you'd missed how she kissed you, how the world fizzled away, and how you truly felt like yourself. 

You withdrew your tongue from the confines of your mouth and greeted Emma's familiar taste. At the first contact, the blonde let out a satisfied sigh, and the invisible restraints on your wrists were released. Free to place your hands wherever you pleased, you laced them through platinum locks and scraped your nails along Emma's scalp, drawing her impossibly closer. 

As hips started to move, Emma wedged her thigh between your legs, and a silent cry broke in your throat. Your head flew back, hitting the cold wall of the mausoleum, and the older woman wasted no time, planting wet, hot kisses over your exposed neck. 

"Fuck," you whimpered as the blonde bit down on a particular chunk of flesh she knew drove you crazy. Her tongue ran over the sore flesh, soothing it. 

Hands wandered, and soon enough, you had your arms around Emma's neck whilst she paid attention to kneading your breast and fiddling with the zipper of your jeans. The way she kissed you left your head dizzy and your lips sore, but that didn't stop you from encouraging the former saviour with a litany of explicit sounds and continually grinding down on her explorative fingers. 

When her fingers finally entered you, a crackling sob prompted Emma to, once again, pay homage to the scattered marks splayed over your neck down to the beginning of your shirt. 

"I've missed this," she said, peppering kisses up to your ear, "I've missed you."

You moaned in agreement, unable to form words with slender fingers sliding in and out of your wet channel. 

"I want you to say it," she said. 

"Hm?"

"Tell me you're mine," she whispered hotly into your ear, squeezing your nipple between her thumb and forefinger, "Say it." 

"No." You whimpered as she thrust into you again, her knuckles slamming against your clit. 

Teeth sunk into the sweet spot under your ear, and the blonde's fingers slid slowly out of you, "Say it, or I'll stop," Emma growled. 

The older woman began pumping into you again, this time at a cruel pace, leaving you winded and crying out, "No. No. NO!"

"Tell me who you belong to. Tell me who you'll always belong to, who owns you." She sucked the sore patch of skin below your ear into her mouth, painting it a shade of red that would soon darken purple. With her thumb hovering over your aching clit, Emma commanded you one last time, "Say it." 

As her thumb brushed over your neglected pearl, she roughly tweaked your nipple, and the weakened dam holding you back from surrendering broke, "You, Emma Swan. I belong to you and you alone!" You screamed into the expanse of the graveyard and were forced to listen to your acquiesce bellow over misted grass and mildewed slabs of stone.

And with your submission fresh in her ears, the older woman was satisfied. She applied a circular motion to your clit whilst curling her fingers, fucking you deep and hard. 

Emma's lips drowned out your roaring cries and moans. She removed her hand from your chest and laid it flat against the wall. With the extra support, Emma was free to use the full weight of her body. And that she did. Her hips drove back and forth, aiding her fingers to piston rapidly in and out of your sopping sex. Lewd moans escaped from the kiss that had grown messy - all teeth and tongues - but neither of you cared because you both knew what was coming. 

Your release came strong and heavy. Your scream was unrecognisable, mangled and broken, tearing your throat to shreds whilst a single tear rolled idly down your cheek. The sated feelings running through your body were euphoric. Memories of a better time flashed in your mind: a red leather jacket, a bubbly blonde, evenings spent laughing and cuddling. 

When you looked at the woman before you, so changed, your eyes clouded with tears. 

And then the shame and guilt came. 

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[futurepastme]

Emrys and the council of the seven

Just another thing I need to throw in the void to see if it leaves my mind alone. This "chapter" is just a rambled info-dump that I started before falling asleep and decided to continue today, so I acctually still have more to this universe and might do a part 2.

Au where Merlin didn't turn his back on his kind and accidentally became the unofficial king of a secret kingdom that he created himself. ≈ 2400 words

Prologue: The vanishing door

Camelot was known to be the strongest kingdom of the five lands that composed what would one day be known as Albion, its knights were fierce and strong, its walls were tall and impenetrable, and its King was imposing and unforgiving.

The knights of the king were trained by their own Prince, a man known for his swordsman skill throughout the five kingdoms.

The knights were strong, noble men, whose family's loyalty to the crown surpassed generations, men who dedicated their lives to the king and to the people, sons of Dukes and Earls and Barons.

All men who came from a noble blood lineage could try for a position as a Camelot Knight.

The common man who didn't, however, could still try for a position as a guard. 

The guards that protected the castle went through rigorous training before being worthy of their station, difficult trials meant to test their loyalty, strength, and resilience would take place through an extended period of time. Only those who could pass them all managed to qualify for the position, and only those who could survive training with the prince could keep it.

The Prince was a man made for war. From a very young age he was trained in the arts of politics, strategy, and combat. He knew how to read an opponent as well as he could read a map, could come out of seemingly impossible situations like no other, and knew how to inspire his men to fight for his kingdom to the death and without hesitation.

Besides training the knights, one of the prince's duties was to come up with the rounds for the guards; they were assembled in a way to be confusing but efficient and were cautiously scheduled just so, so people couldn't figure out a pattern.

All these capable groups of men worked together to ensure the kingdom's safety, to ensure their walls were kept strong and to ensure that no one could breach their defenses without being caught.

It is why, after all this training and planning, it is almost comical that we can see the figure of a man seamlessly passing through every guard like they weren't there.

It was on a normal night, uneventful in its nature, that we could see this hooded figure dancing down the halls of the castle, taking advantage of every guard’s blind spot and every secret passageway known to him.

The figure never ran, he didn't have to. He would count down his steps and easily avoid anything that could possibly get in his way.

One, two, three steps forward and one backwards, to avoid being spotted by using a pillar as cover. Thirteen steps ahead and through the door on the right, waiting for six seconds before going out again, to avoid a group with three guards. Eight more steps and push down the torch bracket to go through a secret shortcut.

Step by step he went on his way through abandoned halls and others not so much, passing by paintings and tapestries, bedchambers and supply closets, down staircases and through secret doors until he reached his goal.

He went through one last door and finally found the abandoned staircase. Dark gray coloured stones formed the uneven steps, spiderwebs covered the broken sconces and a stale flavour weighted the air.

Behind the closed door he finally let himself relax completely, in a way he wasn't allowed during his daily life, and with a soft wave of his hand a floating white ball of light appeared, following him about as he continued his path down the cold steps.

After all this sneaking around, it might surprise you that the biggest crime this man committed so far was in the form of that small floating light.

Camelot was a great, strong kingdom that for over twenty years had been at war with magic users.

The purge, as it is called, has many beginnings. 

The baker that lived in the citadel his whole life, would whisper of how a sorceress enchanted the king into confidence and used this trust to try and kill the unborn prince, taking the queen's life in her attempt.

The shoemaker one town over would tell how the enchantress was actually the king’s old lover, who had learnt magic to steal his heart back and kill the queen to take her place, but botched the order her plan should go and forgot to enchant the king before getting rid of the queen.

A traveling merchant, that now could be found in the kingdom of Mercia, would spread the story of how the queen's own lady in waiting had traded her soul for the secrets of magic, but when the time for payment came she took the queen's life to try and offer it instead, effectively losing her soul and her heart along with what was left of her mind.

The bards would sing the sad prose of a king who had a sick wife with child. He begged an old friend to save his wife and son, not knowing that this friend had lost her soul to magic. The sorceress took the queen's life but was chased away by the brave king before she could get to the prince, and the king swore to protect the land from such evil, to never harm them again.

The court physician wouldn't say a thing, loyal to the king, he is one of the three people who were there the night the queen died. But from his mouth, the most one would hear on this matter is a solemn phrase and nothing more. The Queen died giving birth to the prince.

How many variations can one single story have? It's fascinating how one simple tale, retold a thousand times, can change form and become something so different from its origin that turns into its own thing. 

But if you look closely, all the overlapping facts and the substantial discrepancies draw one single truth.

The purge began twenty years ago, because the king lost his queen. 

After that night, no one with magic was safe. No woman, no elder, no child. The King chased and burned, slashed and drowned. He hunted down sorcerers with every man he had, with every dog he owned. He burned their books and burned their bodies, and no one could escape the rage of his darkened heart.

The ones that survived went hiding, running away from a destiny of pain and death.

As the years went by, the slaughter diminished along with the numbers of magic users found in the kingdom, but that didn't mean the king's hatred was any less latent. The use of magic or association with a practitioner of magic would still be punished by death at the stake, and any rumors related to magic would be met with search parties and red caped knights following a bloody mission by the name of the King.

The hooded figure reached the bottom of the stairs, his floating light following dutifully. 

He found himself inside a great cave covered in darkness. It was so big that he had to make the light shine brighter to be able to see the edge of the cliff that separated the entrance of the staircase from the rest of the abyss that composed the cave.

Once upon a time this cave was home to a great dragon, a magical creature, that was captured by the King during the worst years of the purge.

The dragon waited years to meet his liberator, until the same hooded man came through the gates of Camelot. He then told the man about the prophecies that for centuries predicted his birth, about his duties to his kind and about his destiny.

In exchange for this knowledge and many other insights that helped the man fulfill his part of the prophecy, the dragon was released. And now the empty cave had almost no trace of once being housed by a dragon, apart from the broken chain links that littered the ground and a few claw marks that decorated the walls.

The man approached the edge of the cliff, to an untrained eye there would be nothing but the abyss that dragged down the cold air and unbalanced unprepared men, but the man knew this cave as well as he knew the guards' rounds. 

Hidden by darkness, a barely accessible ledge could be seen a couple of meters lower than the edge of the cliff, big enough to fit a person.

With calculated care, the man jumped down to the ledge. 

If someone were to look down at him from the cliff, they would think our sorcerer was trapped, but the view from the top of the cliff had a blindspot that made it impossible to see that the ledge continued with a narrow path to somewhere under the castle. Somewhere only accessible by that ledge and the unassuming cracked slit on the wall by the end of it.

He continued on his way, slowly gliding through the narrow ledge with his back flushed to the wall, the tips of his feet losing ground for a second before regaining it later on as the ledge broadened slightly when he approached the slit.

Upon reaching the slit one would see that it didn't reach the ground of the ledge, with its bottom sitting at the same height as the man's chest, the slit from up close looked like a narrow tunnel. With the ease of someone who's done this before, the sorcerer jumped up and with a little bit of struggle managed to stand almost straight inside the tunneled slit.

He pushed his way through the tunnel, moving his body to fit through as its space changed size. Turning his body on the side when it was narrower and bending down when it was lower, avoiding sharp edges and tripping holes. 

After all the trouble he went through, one would be disappointed after reaching the end of the tunnel and finding nothing more than another empty cave. Different from the one that once housed the dragon, this cave was barely big enough to fit a dozen men, a frustrating sight to anyone who followed the man's steps hoping for adventure.

Jumping down inside the cave, he continued with confident pace towards the backmost wall of this disappointing place.

That wall was different from the rest of the cave, while the other walls were jagged and uneven, this wall was smooth from the bottom to the top. It resembled the walls that formed the hallways of the castle, except, instead of being made out of cut stones shaped for building, this wall was composed of one single smooth stone, like a vertical tablet.

The sorcerer let out a small sigh as he brought up one hand to glide across the stone's surface, at the same time he raised the other hand to the hood of his cape bringing it down and revealing his face to the emptiness of this secret place.

With dark blue eyes that never left the stone, the sorcerer brought both his hands to a chain that sat on his neck, pulling it out. His brows frowned as the chain got caught on one of his ears, he let a small sound fall from his mouth as he fought the bothersome thing off of him, leaving a small red spot on his ear caused by the aggressiveness he used to pull the chain.

Dangling from the chain was an iron key, simple in its look, the key didn't seem to be of any importance, just another key like many others.

The sorcerer held the key in his hand and took a second to frown down at it, letting mumbled curses reprimand the misbehaving object, as if it were its fault to get caught.

His gaze did a quick once over of the cave, as if daring the walls to say anything about what happened, before coming back to his senses. There was no one but him there, and the walls couldn't possibly be laughing at him. 

He brought his gaze back to the cursed thing in his hand and finally brought it up to the stone wall at the same height a keyhole would be. Once it made contact with the stone, it stopped for a second, before going through the hard surface and sitting in a perfect fit. 

He turned it once, and the little cave was suddenly consumed by a blue light coming from the stone as the frame of a door began to blink into existence.

He waited for a few seconds until the light diminished, and now in front of him was a hard oak door, with hinges, iron straps, a handle and yes, a keyhole. He turned the key two more times and reached for the handle.

The room was rapidly filled with a warm light that came from the open door. 

A waved hand dismissed the ball of light, relieving it from its duty now that the light coming from the door would be sufficient.

The man took the key out of the keyhole, stepping through the threshold inside the lit room before quietly closing the door behind him.

For a couple of seconds the cave was drowned in darkness, only a faint line of light escaped from underneath the door, before it was once again lit up with the same blue light as before.

Slowly, the magical blue light started to fade beginning from the frame of the door towards the middle, and as it went off, the door too began to disappear.

In a matter of seconds the stone wall conquered back its space, it consumed the frame, the hinges, the whole door until there was nothing but the keyhole. It blinked for a second before it too disappeared.

The stone wall was back to its natural form, inside a hidden cave with no trace a doorway could ever have existed, with no magic light to ease its darkness, and with no hooded man staring at its smooth surface.

On an uneventful night at Camelot, a sorcerer waltzes through the defenses of the castle to reach a cave that no one has heard about, with an illegal magic light that followed his steps, towards a secret door that didn't exist.

And as his journey through the depths of the castle reached its end with his magical disappearance through the said inexistent door, Camelot continued with its routine dance: the guards continued their rounds, a few knights drank at the tavern, and the prince slept on his bed, all of them unaware of the shadow man and his magic door.

[georgies-ftts]

just another Merlin headcanon/fic idea that i may or may not write… (AU: Post canon/nobody dies, Arthur knows about Merlin’s magic but not quite what Merlin does for Camelot in his spare time)

Merlin and Arthur have been teetering around each other since the Battle. Arthur showing a more protective and outwardly caring side to the younger man. Merlin leaving lingering touches and soft glances whenever he’s able, defending Arthur more openly and strongly to those he never would’ve dared to before.

The Knights have bets on their relationship. Leon is winning. Gwaine is in debt. Percival wants to rip his hair out, Lancelot and Eylan are secretly betting on Gwaine going bankrupt before Merlin and Arthur even admit their feelings out loud.

After a particularly close encounter with his servant, soon to be court sorcerer, Arthur finally works up the courage to ask Merlin if he feels the same as he does, to tell Merlin that marrying for an heir is what the court want, he wants to marry for love, and he loves Merlin.

He asks Merlin, by a letter that he thinks gives a clear light to his intentions, to meet him outside the castle, in a spot they sometimes sit at together when the days have been long and stressful. The spot where the moonlight shines brightly over the flowers and the grass is somehow soft year round and in the summer a small refreshing cross breeze is created by the way the trees are sprayed out scarcely before them.

But Merlin never shows and Arthur feels embarrassed, hurt, somehow more betrayed than when Merlin revealed the gold dragon within the flames of the fire but he understands that Merlin must’ve read Arthur’s intentions loud and clear and saved him the mortifying rejection of his manservant. So instead he turns to avoiding Merlin, that seeing him after the clear rejection would only send him into a spiral so he tries his best to stay away.

However he notices that, despite his effort to avoid him, he hasn’t seen the sorcerer anywhere at all, his chores untouched, a dreadful feeling that hasn’t been there until that morning fills the air. It’s obvious the others within the castle feel it too.

Arthur turns to the knights, questioning if they have seen Merlin, if he is okay and well, but they have not seen him and that only causes Arthur to panic more.

He sends the guards to search the castle, the stables, Gwens house, even the small opening by the lake where Merlin traipses off to when he’s feeling rough, when he’s hiding. But he’s never gone this long.

He orders them to tear Camelot apart if they have too.

But he’s found in none of those places.

Instead Merlin and Gwaine find him, bloody, broken and shivering beneath the castle where he hasn’t been able to move himself for the past two days even calling for help had been pointless so far below the occupied layers of the castle.

Merlin is rushed to Gauis as he his eyes flutter and Arthur can do nothing but sit and panic as Merlin’s wounds are tended too.

Once he is awake and competent Arthur sits beside his cot and, though it feels wrong too, he questions him deeply, his voice tremors and his fingers shake but he does it anyway.

And Merlin tells him everything, how he received the letter and his heart almost gave up on itself at the thought of alone time with the King, how he’d been sneaking around near the stores, trying to find a bottle of wine or two just before their meeting so they could truly relax after a stressful council meeting and had caught the assassin that had been snooping low in the castle. A poisoned dagger strapped to his belt.

He had been strong and relentless and had nearly left Merlin with less than his life but Merlin had fought for Arthur and he had won, even if he ended the scrap with blood coating his body and an ache in his ribs that made him hiss and cough with each movement.

That even before Arthur knew about his magic this had been a large part of his daily life, to keep Arthur safe and to never let him know just how much it hurt him, how much it broke him. He jokes that he doesn’t even know where the tavern is.

But Arthur echos that now he doesn’t need to hide, he can ask for help, and he will receive it.

Then Arthur realises that Merlin truly had no idea what he was going to ask him and he knows that if he doesn’t do it now he won’t ever be able too again.

So he asks.

And Merlin replies.

[mediocre-stoned-dragon]

((alternate meeting, injured Arthur/physician apprentice Merlin))

Taking care of Arthur would’ve been easier if Arthur threw less things at Merlin’s head when he wasn’t looking.

“Who gave you this chalice? Because I’m not picking it up for you again.” Merlin continued his daily task of covering all the prince’s bruises in salve. He had been momentarily stopped by Arthur’s desire to kill him via poorly-thrown projectile.

“If I ask you to pick it up, Merlin, you’ll pick it up!”

Two things had developed over the last few days. One, Arthur had become more obstinate, violent, and arrogant than any human being ought to become. Two, Arthur’s facial swelling had gone down, and so his aim had improved.

Merlin was still sporting a bruise from where he had thrown a fork at high velocity into his head. Merlin had screamed at him for almost taking his eye out, but he feared it just encouraged Arthur, whose life goal was to get another physician on his care.

“Merlin, I want the chalice!” Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur was sure to yell for another five minutes before accepting defeat. There was some benefit to the prat being bedridden.

To Merlin’s understanding, he was not receiving particularly special treatment. The prince had been aggressive towards all of his servants. He was so spoiled and held no regard for the working class; Merlin only felt his sympathies dissipate. He had half a mind to strangle Arthur himself.

Arthur grew red in the face from exhausting all his air to yell at him, “When I get out of this bed, Merlin, you’ll have to run back to Essetir to escape my wrath!”

“Yes, yes, your majesty. I’m quaking in my boots. Absolutely terrified,” Merlin deadpanned, voice raised.

There was a third development, but it hardly needed mentioning.

The prince, unfortunately, was not the ugliest broad in Camelot…

(I wrote this for glompfest last year and now I am sharing this little part bc i reread it this last week hehe)

[nimrism]

hello! daily morgana pendragon deserves the world. also, i'm very curious to see what you think a morgana and lena interaction would look like! i feel like the universe would break. oh! this is me realizing they both have something against their brothers. what a nice realization to have! anyway, just wondering what you think that might look like :)

DAILY REMINDER THAT MORGANA PENDRAGON DESERVES THE WORLD!

i'm so sorry it took me THIS LONG to get to replying to this but i wanted to do it JUSTICE cause i love this ask with all my heart it speaks to my very soul :)) (i do apologize for this getting really really long, though)

lena and morgana!! they're so similar and yet so different at the same time it's so awesome to delve into their characters and try to dissect what's happening in those brilliant heads of theirs like i could write thesis papers analyzing their characters without ever getting bored. they're just so special to me :,)

what would an interaction between them look like, though? hmmmm i guess it depends on the context of the interaction like why would they be in the same room in the first place? has morgana been reincarnated? what is she doing in national city? or is lena the one who crossed the pond and went to england? are we talking canon s6 lena who has magic? has she gone to england to get closer to her witch ancestors? IS MORGANA HER WITCH ANCESTOR? DID SHE ACCIDENTALLY/ON PURPOSE RAISE HER FROM THE DEAD? i think the concept of morgana being lena's ancestor is super interesting cause it would influence lena's opinion on arthur and merlin and camelot in general. so, if we consider the connection between them ancestral, i think their interactions would be reverent (at least on lena's end) and morgana would (maybe after initial reluctance or hostility) sort of accept lena as her descendant and her protégé and teach her all sorts of magic. lena's part in helping morgana adjust to the modern world would also be a huge aspect i feel like cause morgana would be so confused with modern technology and the fact that technically there are no more "kingdoms" and camelot is no more so what exactly is her purpose in this modern world? lena helping her through that (or at least trying to) would form a huge part of their relationship i think.

buuuuuut if the context is different like maybe lena has discovered a way to time travel and she finds herself in camelot or in the woods around morgana's s4 cabin and morgana happens to stumble upon her there, it would be different. because WHY is there a woman in morgana's image in the STRANGEST clothes walking around with glowing objects (technology) that aren't inherently magical (morgana can't feel the magic in them) but MUST be because this isn't just something anyone can conjure up?? no matter the time we're talking (s1/2/3/4) i feel like morgana would react very negatively until lena can earn her trust or at least convince her she's not a sick joke merlin/emrys is playing on morgana. i also think lena would be wayyy out of her depth in medieval england like yeah she's a genius but she eats salads and fast food and has a bajillion-dollar penthouse equipped with all the latest technologies so living without the luxuries of the modern world would be a CHALLENGE even for her so i think it'd be fun to see morgana's reaction to lena absolutely STRUGGLING to get through her day.

once we're past the logistics of the interaction and the awkward introductions and general initial animosity phase and they FINALLY get to talking, they'll have lots of things in common. like you mentioned, they both have this innate hatred for their brothers, but with lena, lex has caused her unimaginable trauma and pain and despite all of that she's managed to get back up and say to his face that yeah she hates him but she loves herself more and that she's finally letting go of that hatred to go live her life. with morgana, however, that hatred for arthur has become all-consuming, even though it only stemmed from uther sort of unknowingly pitting them against each other forever by acknowledging arthur as his son and heir but never morgana. morgana's hatred for uther extended to arthur and when uther died, arthur became the sole recipient of that hatred. unlike lena, morgana doesn't have anyone to pull her out of the darkness, to show her that even when family fails to understand you and/or accept you, there are friends who will. she doesn't have that support system, and so she succumbs to the darkness and the hate and lets it eat away at her soul. this is where they differ, in my opinion, lena had a support system and the innate strength to stop the generational trauma cycle, while morgana had neither (doomed by the narrative from the start maybe i'll just cry).

this part's a bit controversial cause it depends on your headcanons and who you ship and stuff but another thing i feel was detrimental is UNREQUITED LOVE. lena's half-hearted "villain" arc only happened when she found out that her best friend had been keeping such a huge part of her identity from her (which isn't something you would do to someone you love) so she was like fuck it i'm going to fix humanity cause you guys SUCK. but when she eventually realized that wait, maybe kara does actually love her and care about her and she didn't entirely mean to hurt her (whether you read it as platonic or romantic, her love was requited) she went back and apologized and everything (even though she didn't need to apologize she's never done anything wrong in her life). morgana's brand might as well just be unrequited love, on the other hand. it goes as far back as her biological father (bro didn't even acknowledge her as his daughter), and extends to pretty much everyone she may or may not have been in love with (whether you ship her with gwen (the only right answer) or merlin or even the dumbass alvarr guy). she's been made to feel unlovable her whole life and at some point she believes it and takes it at face-value as the truth, and that's part of what pushes her to extremes like the ones she goes to in the show. ("if i can't have love, i want power"). with both gwen and merlin they're both so devotedly loyal to arthur that even if i were in her shoes i'd get pissed off, so, since she doesn't believe that they'll ever be loyal to her just because, she tortures and brainwashes merlin to get him to do her bidding, and she kidnaps gwen and brainwashes her to get her "old friend" back, because, in the state that she's in by s5, she doesn't believe that anyone will ever be devoted to her for HER, so she forces them to be. this concept of never having love requited voluntarily plays such a huge part in shaping morgana's character and making her that much different from lena, in my opinion.

i could go on and on about the implications of the dark tower episode and every word morgana said to gwen, but that's a story for another post because this one is already getting waaay too long.

ANYWAY i may have strayed from the point a few times BUT I JUST HAVE A LOT TO SAY ABOUT THEM, OKAY? thank you so much for this ask it was so much fun to answer and AS ALWAYS if you want to further discuss morgana or lena or both and speculate on how they would meet/interact i'm always up for a fun discussion 😼

[yorit1]

Merlin could tell Arthur the truth about him being a sorcerer and a dragon lord. Merlin was also able to save Arthur’s life. Now that Arthur was alive, Merlin thought that Arthur was mad at him.

“Please forgive me, Arthur,” Merlin pleaded.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” Arthur asked.

“I was told not to,” Merlin said.

“I want to see you with the dragons. I want to see your powers,” Arthur said.

Merlin called killgarah. They heard the flapping of wings, and Killgarah appeared.

“I love how you do that. It is amazing. I thought I knew everything about you, but I didn’t. I will make you court sorcerer when we are back in Camelot.

“Clotepole,” Merlin said affectionately.

“I think I like you in a new way,” Arthur said.

“A half cannot hate that which makes it whole,” Killgarah said.

“You do make me whole. You complete me. Even if you are a complete and total idiot,” Arthur said.

“Prat,” Merlin said.

“Should we ride the dragon?” Arthur asked.

“I’m not a service for getting you from one place to another,” Killgarah said.

“This is the one and future king who is still weak from near death. We should take him to Camelot to rest,” Merlin said.

“Fine,” Killgarah nodded in assent.

Merlin and Arthur climbed on the dragon. Arthur puts his arms around Merlin.

“I do forgive you for not telling me about your magic. I understand why you didn’t tell me anything when Father was king, but why didn’t you try to legalise magic when I became king?” Arthur asked.

“I did what I thought was best. Now, we can build Albion as it was supposed to be and bring magic back to all of Albion. I was born to serve you, Arthur,” Merlin said.

“Can I try something?” Arthur asked.

Merlin nodded. Arthur leaned in and kissed Merlin. The kiss was a relief. Merlin was relieved that Arthur was still alive. He did not fail in his life mission. Arthur knew the truth, and they were united, and Arthur was now kissing him. It was magical. Merlin could not believe that Arthur was kissing him. His magic was singing, and he could feel it burst to life. Arthur tightens his hold around Merlin’s middle as they ride the dragon.

Soon, they arrive in Camelot. Gauis, Gwen, and the knights are waiting for them.

Arthur took Merlin’s hand, and Merlin tripped over himself. Arthur caught Merlin and straightened him up.

“Idiot,” Arthur said fondly.

“Prat,” Merlin said fondly.

“Let’s go, and we have a lot to do. Killgarah, thank you for the ride. We have much to do to make magic legal in Albion. You and aithusa are to be our official dragons of Camelot,” Arthur said.

Arthur takes Merlin’s hand in his own and smiles at him. Merlin could not believe that Arthur now knew all of him. He has no secrets from Arthur, and Arthur wants to be with him. The real him. Arthur thanked him for everything, and now they were together.

“YOu should get your things and move them into my chamber. We shall live together,” Arthur said.

“Aren’t we moving fast?” Merlin asked.

“I feel like we moved at a snail's pace the last ten years. There is no time to waste,” Arthur said.

“Arthur, do you truly forgive me for hiding who I was from you all those years?” Merlin asked.

“The first time I met you, I felt there was something about you that I could never name. You have spent the last ten years saving my life daily. You have served me the best that you could, Idiot. There is nothing to forgive. You and I are meant to be. Remember when I gave you my mother’s sigil? That was me saying I need you. Now I truly know how much,” Arthur said.

“Clotepole,” Merlin said fondly. “I’d happily serve you daily. My purpose in life is to serve you, and I will do it forever.”

Arthur and Merlin arrived at their chamber, and Arthur put his arms around Merlin and kissed him. The kiss was a lot like the first one. It gave everything that they wanted to say for all those years. Merlin and Arthur were so happy that they finally had the opportunity to share all of themselves with each other. They would spend the rest of their time showing each other how much they mean to each other. Arthur and Merlin are united for all eternity as two sides of the same coin.

@merthurweek2023

[oh-merthur-charm]

'If I can heal Uther, Arthur has given me his word that when he is King, magic will no longer be outlawed. This could change everything.'

'I live with the risk of being exposed every day. If I don't take this opportunity, maybe I'll spend the rest of my life having to hide who I really am. Everyone's always telling me I have this great destiny. Maybe this is it. I have to try.'

______________________________________________________________

I feel like it's this moment here, where hopeful, Season 1 Merlin shows himself to us one final time. It breaks my heart knowing how reserved, hopeless and alone he becomes in season 5. The friendship with him and Gwaine fading, him becoming obsessive over Arthur's safety rather than his own crumbling mental health.

To see him energetic, his eyes alive, with this very raw and vulnerable excitement of hopefully changing Camelot for the better, deeper still, his joy in not hiding anymore and showing his true self to Arthur. Just ALLOWING himself to be hopeful and not in a brave, steel resolve kind of way, but a real, honest and childlike wonder. He's not forcing himself to be hopeful here, he truly believes this is what could change everything.

Merlin's tasks, personal and prophecized are layered. Thus he looses his true self in the process. Here, he is hopeful for a self reason, here it's not about keeping Arthur safe as it's his job to for his prophecy. It's not him planning to stop Mordred from hating Arthur here. Here, he is excited about not having to hide himself anymore. Acknowledging that he wants more than just realising his prophecy, rather his homage to the druids. To restoring magic back, to being free and showing his magic to Arthur on a daily, safe basis. To not hide anymore.

It breaks me every time, how the walls finally come down after so long. We see the young Merlin again, the youth's ideals we thought had gone, finally comes back for one scene.

[tiodolma]

What are your thoughts about the alcove scenes for mergana? Do you think there were more that we don't know of?

What are your thoughts about the alcove scenes for mergana?

my headcanons

morgana knew a lot of the hiding spots in camelot. she knew the citadel and city by heart. she was truly the lady of camelot.

she has observed merlin there before and memorized his schedule and habits. this was her own personal secret thing. something that she keeps even from guinevere.

my thoughts

i like the clandestine, forbidden vibe of it. the whole concept and lore of it has so much potential.

i like that it's something that only the two of them know about.

also morgana is still the "outsider" looking into the daily life of merlin (hunchback of notre dame reference). she always has that vibe of not belonging anywhere

there's an aspect of it where morgana is always the one reaching out to him first. some people may describe it as a trap. but it also is testament to morgana's patience and willingness to stew and wait for opportune times to get to him even in her innocence, in her fear and in her anger.

when merlin hid in the alcove to watch and hide from her as she fought the guards in s4, i felt sad coz unlike morgana who always bared herself to him whether in trust and in hate, at the end he still hid from her from the alcove where she was always was vulnerable and honest to him.

Do you think there were more that we don't know of?

i wish yeah. it would have added more flourishes to their dynamic if they both had happier moments there.

but honestly no. i dont think there are more moments between them in that alcove. those scant two instances where they were actually alone in the alcove were too heavy in nature for them to be followed up with anything less heavy.

.

.

thanks for the ask

[dollopole]

There’s something so sweet about this scene. Not only Arthur is surrounded by his knights, his friends, he still can’t seem to forget there’s someone missing.

And the way he approaches Merlin is nothing funny or sarcastic: it’s pure concern, it’s love, it’s respect.

Merlin admits he’s scared, without thinking about it twice, because yes, this is Arthur, the same man who makes fun of me on a daily, but he’s also my best friend, the man I love, and who I could lose, but I can’t tell him, but, oh God, if he needs to know I don’t want him to die. I’m the most powerful warlock on earth, yet I’m scared of Morgana, because she wants to kill Arthur, and I’m weak when it comes to him, I’m scared I won’t be able to protect him as I should (especially since Merlin has heard the prophecy that spoke of Arthur’s bane).

I like Arthur’s stunned face. Merlin is referring to his life. “You don’t care you could die?” And not only Arthur is shocked by it, because he thought Merlin knew his reasonings by now, knew that Arthur would never risk losing his knights, losing Merlin. But Arthur doesn’t care as long as his men are safe, as long as Merlin’s safe (because, let’s be honest, this conversation is nothing but a way for them to tell each other how they feel towards one another, without exposing themselves to the danger of this revelation). And Arthur needs to make something clear:

“Only about you.” Because Arthur brings Merlin everywhere like he’s a solider, a warrior, someone who knows how to fight with a sword, who’s an asset to Camelot and the kingdom itself, so he considers him an equal, someone he can sit with on a lower step and chat with about his fears, because he can be vulnerable with Merlin. Arthur knows he’s safe with him.

Arthur includes Merlin in his speech, and this is something that could mean, “Oh, so Merlin isn’t a friend, isn’t a brother, he’s so much more.” This scene is so impactful, because it’s one of those rare moments where Arthur shows how deeply he can love, how much risk he’s willing to take to bring peace to his kingdom and to his people: to the ones he loves.

And he knows his knights, he knows Merlin won’t abandon him, because he has never done it, and Arthur truly believes Merlin has no reason to do it now, even if he’s scared. It’s as if Arthur is asking, just to make sure, just to have the confirmation that they think the same of it.

And they do:

I wish I didn’t understand how much I’m willing to risk, and have already risked for you. Because this is why I’m here: for you and only for you.

The self deprecating smile, because Merlin can’t back down, he never will. He’s so frightened, yet not even the prospect of battling against Morgana and her army will make him run.

He has Arthur to protect.

The way he smiles, it’s as if he’s saying, “Why didn’t I understand this sooner? Arthur’s just like me.” But it’s the fact that they told each other this, they know now, after ten years, that they’re willing to do anything and more for the other to stay safe, to be alive, even if one of them isn’t.

Merlin tells Arthur. He watches him intensely, because Arthur needs to understand. He’s honest.

Arthur gets it, and he’s finally happy. He’s relieved that Merlin won’t abandon him, that he will stay by his side, like he always is, protecting him, fighting with him, and helping him.

Arthur smiles at Merlin like he’s seeing him for the first time, and he falls in love with him just that tad bit more.

[life-in-the-garden]

A Spell for Bisclavret

Introduction

I don’t talk about my academic life here much, so for those who aren’t in the know: I’m an undergrad in the US working towards an English degree (going part-time because I also have to work to earn my daily bread like the wage slave that I am). Last semester was… incredibly stressful, but I ended up really enjoying a class about romances written in medieval Europe. We started with eight of the Lais (long poems) of Marie de France, a woman writer of the time period, and one of those Lais was titled “Bisclavret.” If you aren’t aware, Bisclavret is an Old French word for “werewolf” AND is the name of the main character… since songwriters in the Middle Ages weren’t exactly subtle much of the time.

The spell I created—and am now sharing with you—was inspired by the character Bisclavret and his story, and draws upon the power of this knightly werewolf of yore.

image credit

If you want to read a translation of Marie de France’s “Bisclavret,” you can do so here. This isn’t a translation that I’m fond of (I think the rhyming is unnecessary), but it’s free to access and gets the gist across just fine. On the off chance that you want to read the translation that I actually recommend, which includes the Old French source text alongside the English, then check out The Lais of Marie de France: Text and Translation by Claire M. Waters.

If you don’t want to read a good many lines of poetry, here’s the summary: In his story, the knight Bisclavret is tricked by his scheming, adulterous wife into revealing his wolf form to her, whereupon she becomes frightened and hides his clothes. Therefore, Bisclavret cannot change back into his human form, and so lived in the wilderness as a wolf until found by King Arthur and brought to Camelot. There, in the court, he behaves so courteously that everyone remarks at how noble and regal the wolf is… until Bisclavret sees his former wife and her new husband, whom he attacks. Arthur, who believes that the wolf would not attack without reason, interrogates the human couple and learns the truth about Bisclavret. The werewolf’s clothes are returned, and he transforms back into a man as Arthur orders the exile of Bisclavret’s ex-wife and her husband from the realm.

This spell, titled "Garwolf," is a piece of baneful magic intended to punish a thief.

Garwolf

You will need:

1 or more pieces of paper for writing upon

a writing implement

a method of destroying the paper, ideally via fire (and all associated fire safety accouterments) or else via a shredder, scissors, or what have you

Method:

Think of a time where something was stolen from you. The stolen thing doesn't need to be a physical item; maybe an abusive parent stole a happy childhood from you, for example. This spell assumes that the stolen thing has been permanently lost in spite of your best efforts to retrieve it, and that you cannot find peace through mundane methods. If the only option left is magical retribution for the hurt you've undergone, then this spell is for you.

Take the paper and write a letter about the person who stole from you. (if you can't write easily or struggle to read your own handwriting, you are absolutely allowed to type the letter on a computer/phone and then print it out). Pour out all the hate in your heart onto the page. Describe how you were hurt, and how it made you feel, and how you want the target of this baneful working to feel and what they should suffer as recourse for the pain they've caused you. You are an entire human being who deserves respect, dignity, and safety; don't minimize your own feelings here. Let it out and hold nothing back. (This step focuses your intention).

When the letter is finished, fold it up as small as you can and carry it on your person for three days and three nights (approximately 72 hours). Shortly after each time you wake up during this period, read the letter aloud to yourself and ruminate on your feelings towards the target. Do the same thing before going to sleep. Remember that you are worthy and that nobody has the right to make you feel lesser. (This step charges the spell).

When the three days and nights are finished, read the letter aloud a final time and then destroy it with all the rage and hatred you can muster. Tear it to pieces! Burn it! Shred it! Render your words unrecognizable as you release your energy into the universe to carry out your will of bringing misfortune, hardship, and/or suffering upon the spell's target. (This step casts the spell).

(If destroying the letter via fire, remember to follow all applicable fire safety procedures and don't burn down your surroundings in the process).

To cool down from casting this piece of emotionally intensive baneful magic, practice some self-care. Make yourself a cozy beverage and/or take a luxurious bath or shower, for example, and remember that you have an innate worthiness that can never be stolen from you.

If you found this spell intriguing, please consider tossing some spare change towards my ko-fi so that I can continue sharing my magical work!

[queenofglassbeliever]

I feel like Merlin would have gone back, but after seeing how hollowed out he was and how hard it was for him to trudge through daily life, Gwen would have let him go to live in nature, to try and heal. Maybe she hoped he'd come back one day with the light returned to his eyes, but only stories reach her, stories of Emrys, stories of a mighty mage, his incredible feats, his misshapen but beloved dragon. Gwen always knows which bards have actually met Merlin, though. They never fail to describe an ancient sadness, a vast lake of loneliness, mirrored in his sky blue eyes.

Interesting. Poetic. But consider this. Merlin has friends in Camelot. He has Gwen, Gauis, Leon, and Percival. Merlin has a support system. In Camelot he's surrounded by people who loved Arthur (and Gwaine) too. They understand to an extent what he's lost. Yes the days ahead are difficult but in time and with support Merlin takes it one day at a time and things get better.

[ladyjuquia]

『𝓡𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼』

𝓐 OCxCanon/Yumeship Comic

Art by @/OBazzotto (Twitter/X)

The Concept and Dialogues are once again done by me!

This Comic also reflects more how I view my „Daily Life“ at Chaldea!

The Ring Tristan is giving to Juquia is by the way based on official Camelot Movie Jewellery! You may have noticed this Ring maybe in other Commissions as well!