#nimue watches mad men

[nimuetheseawitch]

Ken Cosgrove is the only person in the entirety of Mad Men who has little to no ego.

[the-king-and-the-druidess]

Nimueh stayed to live there, at the Island of the Blessed's ruins. She couldn't force herself to leave it. She hid in underwater caves with her scrying bowl, watching the world above, above the heavy waters of her lake. She watched pyre, she watched King Uther Pendragon, her former friend whom she no longer recognised destroying the world they once shared.

Not only people suffered, but also animals and the earth itself. Magical beasts of wonder and danger, these incredible and uncanny creatures of Goddess, were disappearing, were hunted, sold, becoming mere trophies of men. It didn't matter to her, it didn't matter anymore they could harm common people. Nimueh recognised herself and her kind in these monsters.

And she started saving them. She wandered around Camelot like a silent shadow, and collected her own bestiary of crooked, deformed, ugly, wicked, miserable and shy creatures from under the sword of a knight and the torches of peasants. Venomous lizards, basilisks, enormous boars, dogs whose howling brought madness, snakes of all kinds of horror, magical fishes, prophetic birds, griffins and threeheaded horses — any kind found a place on the Island of the Blessed, Nimue's secret hideout.

In the caves, cages, ruins, they shared her loneliness. She learned to tame them, rear them, create new species that later will take their place in the legendarium of Albion — they were hers. Some lived, some died out, some became a tool of her revenge, for the Lady Nimueh hasn't tired of it yet.

“a woman neither one thing nor another – free to spill out & glow & burn„ Kirsty Logan

[sennextheassasinkingoflight]

Redemption, My Love

Chapter 8 update Cross posted to AO3 Rated Explicit Important tags: In depth tags warning can be found on AO3)  Lancewain, Slowburn, Found Family, Eventual smut, Warnings for abuse (emotional, physical, mental) of a child, Rape/ Non Con, Self harm, and the rest of the tags that come almost implicitly with an Lancelot/Weeping Monk centered fic.  Side note: Everything happening with NImue and Merlin and the Fey takes place at the same time as the events from chapters 1-6. 

++++Arthur++++

Arthur is locked in discussion with the Red Spear. It is vital they become allies, he knows this, without her and her warriors the Fey would have been wiped out today. There would be none of them left in this group. He would have failed to protect them as Nimue requested.  He must convince them that the Fey are worthy warriors, capable of returning the support of the raiders. For now the most important aspect of discussion is the vulnerability of the beach. If a storm blows in or the tides change, they could be trapped here. Tonight, remaining on the beach is their only option with so many wounded, but tomorrow they must find a more formidable location. Perhaps they can go back to the woods. “We should send scouts at dawn. Then we may burn the dead. When the scouts have returned we will move our injured.” “Aye.” The Red Spear agrees, then continues, “ Supplies will be short with so many mouths to feed. What would you recommend for it?”

“We should ration, immediately. Send out hunters into the woods to bring back whatever they can to offset the difference. And send those who can pass for humans into the nearest town with funds to buy what we can.”  He stands firm beneath the intensity of her gaze. He could swear it's as if she is looking through him, or perhaps she is looking into him. Setting his jaw he forces himself to meet her gaze and finds himself captivated by the angles of her face and the odd jewelry she wears. Shouting pulls him from his distraction and he turns to face a young boy running towards him. “Arthur! It's Nimue, she’s returned with Merlin and Morganna. Hurry, she's been injured!” He follows the boy across red sand, feet pushing against a malleable surface, slowing him as he attempts to reach his lover as quickly as possible. When he turns to call an apology to the Red Spear he finds that she is keeping pace with them. The boy slows to a halt and pants just ahead of him. Pushing through the crowd he comes to a stop, nostrils flaring as he inhales and chest rising and falling quickly.  He watches as Yeva sends Pym to gather something for her and ushers two boys carrying Nimues limp form into a tent. The Moonwing casts a glance and Merlin and despite her obvious disdain for the man, nods, then shakes her head and enters the tent. Pym passes by him and he reaches out grabbing her arm in a vice-like hold. She meets his eyes and he loosens his hold minutely. “Will she be alright?” “We don’t know yet. I have to go and help.” She pushes his hand away and  moves quickly towards the tent. Not quite a run but far from a walk. Her red hair flies freely in the breeze where it has fallen out of its braid, and for a moment he is taken back to the first moment he met these two girls, singing in Hawksbridge. That day feels so long ago. “The girl they carried into the tent. She is Queen of The Fey?” “Yes.” “And is she more than that to you.” He nods, throat to dry from lack of water to speak, and constricted with fear to function. Frantic voices draw his attention and he glances towards Merlin who is speaking urgently with his sister. His feet drag in the sand as he makes his way to their side. ��Morgana what happened? Why are you dressed like that?” “It’s a long story Arthur. Nimue was shot twice by Iris. There wasn’t… we couldn’t do anything. She fell off the edge of the walk and into the waterfall. Arthur, we barely found her. She’s freezing cold, cold as death.” “Yeva, is skilled. She will heal Nimue. I am certain.” Merlin suggests, voice shaken but firm in its conviction. “What about you? You're thousands of years old. You're her father. Why don’t you do something?”  Morgana snaps back at him furiously, face drawn tight, and arms wrapped tightly around herself. “ I have not practiced my magic in almost two decades. I'm not sure I can help her. Even if I was certain I wouldn't do more harm than good, Yeva will not let me work beside her. When she is done I will do my absolute best to repair any remaining damage. For now, we must be patient.” The wizard says, inclining his head and leaning heavily on the sword pushed into the sand. His staff gone missing in the fray. Arthur bares his teeth, ready to say something else, to argue, start a fight, but it leaves him just as fast when a hand rests gently on his bicep. His sister looks up at him and he pulls her into an embrace. “Are you hurt?” “No. No I am not. But I have done something I fear cannot be undone.” She trembles in his arms and he can do nothing more than pull her closer, he never could shield her from the world, and now less than ever. He wants to help, but without knowing what has happened he cannot. 

“Morgana? Morgana, what is it?” “Later my brother. Later. For now let us worry about Nimue.”  He mutely agrees and looks between the two as he formulates what needs to be done next. The next thing is the only thing he can think of at this moment or he will go mad. There is so much to consider, so much still to do. Instead he begins to lead them towards the center of the camp. They linger a moment looking at the healers tent before he speaks. 

“You two must be hungry. Let us get you something in your stomachs and dry clothing.”

 None of them will sleep tonight. Not well at least, even with dry clothes and full bellies. So, as they sit around the fire in silence, waiting for whatever news the morning may bring, Morgana and Merlin take their turns explaining what occurred at Uther’s camp. Morgana tells him about Nimue’s plan for her to flee with the sword and how she decided to come back. He listens as she tells him and Merlin about how she had met the widow, and that she had killed her. As he listens to his sister speak, the belief that she is hiding something from him rears its ever present  head and settles low in his gut. Their relationship is tenuous at best and he knows it, so he does not press for clarification or more answers. Just listens silently, idly drumming his fingers against his leg and casting furtive glances at the tent whose walls hide Nimue from them. Neither Pym nor Yeva nor the others have come to tell them anything. Eventually Morgana stops speaking and Merlin begins to explain what Uther has done. “Guinevier, The Red Spear, should hear this as well. She and her troops have agreed to help us, if we in return help them against Cumber’s men. It seems we have a common enemy in him, and now Uther as well.” “And the Paladins?” Morgana inquires looking between them and towards the direction of the raiders. “The raiders have been sacking their camps as repayment for raiding the cities before they get a chance. It is to our benefit.” He offers a small smile to his sister. “Nimue left you in charge, did she?” Merlin adds, looking into the fire. “Yes. She did, is there a problem with that?”  He raises his eyebrow in question and stares at the exhausted looking man. “No. I just find it curious is all.” He aches to slap the smirk off his wine drinking grin. Instead he sends someone to fetch the Red Spear. As they wait the sounds of the camp fill their ears. It is the sound of a war camp. The moans of the injured surround them on all sides in the dark of the night. The chill of the sea breeze billows the tent walls around them and carries the sound of death up the cliffs and over the fields. Whetstone on steel is a comfort against the cries of the heartbroken and injured. Morgana shifts to his right and he turns. “You wish to go help them?” “I would be more useful trying to save a life than sitting here worrying.” She agrees as she stands and disappears into the shadows. Merlin shakes his head and drinks deeply from the goblet in his hand.

When the raider joins them the three discuss the political game they have found themselves in. The Fey have their backs against a wall. If the Paladins, Uther, and now Cumber have sided with each other against them their only real hope is to side with the Red Spear and her raiders. Even then, there is little guarantee that any of them will survive.  

++++Pym++++

Even inside the tent it is cold. She shivers against the breeze and watches as Yeva sets up to begin working. She swallows away the tightness in her throat and approaches cautiously. “I want to help.” “Get her hair dry and get her out of these clothes. The last thing she needs is to catch cold.” The Moonwing bites out as she turns half way around to size Pym up. Half blind eyes meet hers and she wonders how this woman can still see to be a healer. Jumping at Yevas sudden proximity over the table she starts to unlace Nimues bodice with trembling fingers. It takes far too long to undress her friend and get her covered by blankets. Yeva works around her with little difficulty. She is grateful for that small mercy. If she were in the way she isn’t certain she could live with that. For now she stands at the head of the table they’ve laid Nimue on and towels long chestnut locks. 

She doesn’t take her eyes off Yeva as she works. It is inspiring to see old hands, twisted with time and tipped with talons work so delicately with the skin beneath their touch. The shoulder is the most logical place to begin as the arrow has already come loose but Yeva ignores it, looking instead at the bruising forming on Nimue’s head, and sides. She runs her hands over the young Fey’s arms and legs, feeling for broken bones, then down her ribs. “Feel this.” She speaks, low and raspy and Pym jumps again, not having expected for such a request to come from the matron. She extends her shaky hand and Yeva takes it, presses it against Nimue’s ribs and slides it up and down letting her feel just how real the damage is. “She must have hit a lot of rocks when she fell.” The whisper falls from her lips unbidden. It’s stupid. Surely, Yeva has already thought the same thing, but instead of telling her off the woman looks at her and asks, “Why do you think I haven’t started with the arrow wounds?”  With hesitation, Pym considers the options carefully. She isn’t really certain, but there is not a lot of blood which means she should be concerned about infection. “They aren't bleeding? So, it gives you time to look for other injuries?” Yeva meets her eyes and gives a nod. “Now what should we do first?” “Why are you asking me? You're the healer.”  Frustration fills her voice and she tries her best to keep it out but can’t. Her friend is dying and Yeva is standing there asking her questions instead of healing her. “You wanted to help. I am teaching you.”  The old woman answers calmly, turning her back to the girls and reaching for several supplies. Indignant, Pym comes to stand by her, crossing her arms and jutting her chin out. “Well then teach me something!” The glare Yeva sends her way makes her spine tingle, slowly she steps back and lets her arms fall to her sides. “Sorry.” She looks to the ground. “Do not apologize to me. Do better.” The woman says thrusting a bowl half filled with water at her. “Clean the wound on her shoulder.” “Shouldn’t I add something to the water?” “I already have. Now go on.” She doesn't waste another moment to do as instructed and sets about cleaning the wound as best she can. It isn’t very deep into the tissue of the shoulder but she can see the edge of the bone when the debris has been cleared away. “Yeva, I can see the bone of her shoulder. And the skin is hot to the touch.”  The Moonwing healer looks up from her concentration on the arrow lodged in Nimue’s stomach and lets out a long sigh. “Prepare a poultice of yarrow, beeswax and pepper for now. Apply it thickly and wrap it.” Moving away from the table, she finds the ingredients she needs on the table, the flickering light of the candles dancing ominously at the periphery of her vision. Focusing on her task she wills away the tears seeking to fall from the corners of her eyes away and mixes the ingredients. When she turns back around to apply the salve to the wound she finds Yeva cleaning the one on Nimues abdomen. This one does bleed. A lot. She knows from her time on the raider ship that the arrow was keeping the wound sealed. Applying the mixture to Nimues shoulder she watches the matron wipe blood from the entry site and flush the wound out with a mixture of herbs and water. When done she packs the wound with yarrow leaf and applies the rest of the poultice to the outside of the wound and wraps it tight. 

“We cannot stitch these, they are puncture wounds and there is infection in them. We must leave them open to drain. We will check them twice a day. Keep them clean and dressed until she is well. Until then we must keep her warm, and when she wakes keep her from pain as much as possible. Her lungs will ache, as will her leg.” “Her leg?”  The look Yeva gives her could curdle milk, still she does not look away. “What is wrong with her leg?” “It is broken.” “What can we do?” “Thankfully the bone does not need to be set. We must keep it still, until it has mended itself. Go and get the supplies for a splint. You know what's needed?” “Yes.” When it is done, the bone splinted, the wounds wrapped, Pym sits beside Nimue. She holds her cold hand in the darkness of the tent and weeps, keeping vigil until she falls unconscious with the first rays of morning light rising over the sea. ++++Percival++++ “What do we do?” He casts his eyes forward to The Green Knight, then turns to look up at The Weeping Monk. He can feel his blood run cold at the thought of being captured. He remembers the smell of hot iron and burning flesh, old blood and vomit that lingered in the tent he found Gawain tortured in, the one Lancelot rescued him from, and his heart hammers in his chest at it. He remembers the sight of blood, old and dried and cracking, splattered on every surface. The way Gawain looked, bloodied and half dead, slumped against the ropes in the chair. He blinks. Head spinning, he tries to settle his stomach. Someone is speaking but it's like they are miles and miles away and he can barely hear them screaming over the rapid pulse of blood in his ears. He feels like he’s drowning. He closes his eyes against the onslaught of noise and it makes it so much worse. He feels like he’s falling over. “Percival! Percival.” 

There is commotion around him and his right shoulder hurts as if someone has wrenched it behind his back but he can’t bring himself to open his eyes just yet. 

“Squirrel? Are you alright? Squirrel.”

He blinks and looks up at The Green Knight and The Weeping Monk, hand on his side and face screwed up in pain, both standing over him. He swallows and tries to take a deep breath as he attempts to sit up. “Careful,” Gawain says, voice steady and calm, though Percival can see the worry creased between his eyes. The Weeping Monk, looms over them both like an ominous statue, watching, he turns, takes a deep breath and winces. “They’re getting closer.” He says turning to look back at them. “Sorry,” Percival starts, looking between them as he runs his sleeve over the sweat on his brow, “What happened?” The shouting in the background grows louder. “We will talk about it later. We need to go. Come on, up you go.” Gawain pulls him along and he climbs up on the mare. He watches him turn to Lancelot. “You said five or six?” “Yes. But it's not exact. It’s never been exact.” “If we need to engage can you fight?” “Yes.” “Alright. We will try to slip away unnoticed. If that fails…” The Weeping Monk nods at him solemn and dark beneath his hood and they both return to the saddle. 

  “Are you going to give him the sword?” He whispers as he leans back against Gawain. He raises an arm up to block a low hanging branch, and The Green Knight does the same. “If I have to.” The response is breathed against his ear as they lean low. “Left!” Lancelot calls from behind, Gawain glances over his shoulder and Lancelot has already cut to the inside, putting himself in the lead. They follow another trail into a valley.  Gawain hot on his heels. When they reach the center, Lancelot breaks off and pulls his horse in a circle. It almost seems like he is looking for something. “Why is he circling like that?” “I don’t know yet.”  

The Weeping Monk comes to a halt facing them, both horses stepping side to side in excitement. 

“The woods are teeming with Paladins. The only way I don’t smell them is directly behind us, and that direction is about to be cut off.”  Percival swallows and tries to keep himself calm. The Green Knight tightens his hold on him for a moment before releasing him. “Then you recommend we fight our way out?”

Lancelot only nods, eyes never leaving Gawain's face. Percival inhales sharply and looks around the spot they have found themselves in. It’s not very defensible. “We need to get up higher.” He says automatically. Both the men with him know this, but he can’t help himself. They should be moving. “You’re right.” Gawain inhales sharply behind him and they fall into unmoving silence. “What are you waiting for, we need to go.” He feels Gawain shift behind him. “Here.” The Weeping Monk eyes the sword for a moment, before nodding slowly. Once the blade is in hand, they climb the otherside of the valley and lead the horses into a thicket. “Percival. Stay here with the horses. Do you understand?” The firmness in Gawain's voice is almost frightening as a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. “Yes. Green Knight.”  He nods urgently and tightens his hand on the hilt of his knife. 

Lancelot whispers something softly to Goliath and hands him the reins. “We should cut back across the valley and take them by surprise.” He watches as Gawain stands and meets the monks eyes again. The two stand at arms length to speak, they can’t give away their location now. “How many now?”  Lancelot adjusts the sword on his belt. “The initial six behind us, another four ahead, and two or three to the right.” “And further this direction?” Gawain points south. “A camp, from what I can tell. Too many to be a scouting or hunting party.” The Green Knight opens his mouth to say something but the monk moves quicker covering it with his hand and using the other to push Gawain further into the brush. Gawain retaliates quickly drawing a knife and pressing it against the others ribs poised to pierce his heart. Lancelot doesn’t flinch. Percival watches in horror as it unfolds to fast for him to help. When they’ve come to a stop barely a foot from him, Lancelot removes his hand from Gawain's chest and holds up an open hand, defensively and tilts his head to the opposite side of the thicket. Gawain, eyes wide, does not move the knife, but gives a slight nod. Lancelot takes a single step backwards and they listen in silence for what seems an eternity.  “Good catch today?” Someone asks. “Good catch? Those are the scrawniest rabbits I’ve ever seen. Barely fit for a stew.” Another supplies gruffly. “At least I caught us something” Another paladin says followed by laughter.  Lancelot tightens his grip on the sword hilt and Gawain does the same, dagger still not lowered, attention caught between the possible enemy and the certain enemy. Percival swallows, they can’t see how many there are. It would be reckless to attack now, but as time drags on the voices grow quieter again. He takes a deep breath. Looks between the two who are watching him and nods. He’s okay. He’s okay. He repeats the line over and over again in his head until he begins to believe it. “What if we wait till nightfall?” He whispers when there have been no signs of the paladins for a while. “Horses could give us away any minute. We need to move.” Gawain murmurs into the air between them. Lancelot nods once in agreement. Slowly the three of them start for the exit of the brushwood. Gawain lets Lancelot lead and Percival doesn’t understand why, but he trusts the Green Knight to know what he is doing. They make it back to the other side of the valley they had crossed before anyone speaks again. “Well then, Monk?” “It’s getting hard to sense their locations. It’s all bleeding together. Two of the groups must have come together here.” Lancelot says turning in a slow circle.  “I do not know which way is safest.” He shakes his head at them. “We need to continue southwest. We should press on, get as far from here as possible before nightfall.” The Green Knight states firmly. There is no room for either of them to argue, not that they would have anyways. The monk mounts his horse and follows beside Gawain in silence. Percival keeps his eyes peeled as they move slowly through the woods. He thinks they should be moving much quicker. 

Eventually they pass by a small stream and rest for a moment. It's at the edge of the woods. The sun is beginning to fade from the sky. Percival drinks deeply from the clear stream and stretches. He feels a little better, still uncertain, still sick to his stomach, and ignorant of how he got on the ground earlier. But the pounding in his head has stopped and while he hates to admit it he hopes he never has to see a paladin again for a very long time. “Should we keep going?” He finally asks when the horses have been fed, watered and tethered and the other two have had a moment to sit. “We will be too exposed in the field.” “We’re too exposed here.” The Weeping Monk counters, softly, voice low enough it would be easy to miss in the commotion of a camp. 

Gawain shakes his head in frustration. Even Percival knows The Weeping Monk is right. “What are the paladins doing all the way out here anyways?” Squirrel asks, trying for casual, but the waver in his voice gives him away and he shrinks under the appraising gazes of the warriors to either side of him. “Search parties most likely.” Lancelot responds offhandedly taking a sip from a waterskin. “Not a main camp then.” “No. More likely, it is a base they spread out from, but it would have no more than 15 or 20 men. Three to five forming a party.” “Hunting Fey.” Percival looks at the ground, even he flinches at the venom in Gawain's voice, but Lancelot does not shy away, “Yes.” The admission slips from his mouth like ash thrown in the air. Percival stands abruptly, panic flooding his body with adrenaline. “What about our prints?” He looks desperately between the two men who also make their way to their feet. They share a knowing look. In its wake Percival feels a stab of betrayal low in his gut as he looks up first at the Green Knight and then at The Weeping Monk. How dare they share something with each other and not him? Hasn’t he known Gawain longer? Besides that, they are supposed to be protectors and they’ve left him vulnerable. They are supposed to protect the fey. Protect each other, now. Protect him. “Percival.” Gawain starts, kneeling to look him in the eye, he pulls away from the hand that tries to rest on his shoulder and inhales harshly. The ring of steel forces him to turn, Lancelot stands facing them, sword in hand. Gawain is too slow. Percival feels a burn like fire across his face as blood soaks his hair and clothes. The ground meets his face and he rolls, instinctively getting to his feet. He turns and draws his knife from his belt but he can't see through the blood in his eyes. 

[capsiclesteebrogers]

Bastard Turned King

So, here is another post nobody asked for, but I’m making it because I see a lot of people ignoring Arthur or saying he is not an interesting character and I can’t stand behind this slander. So I’m here to show support for this wonderful character.

SPOILERS FOR CURSED DOWN BELOW!

Again, if you haven’t watched the show, I do not recommend reading this because I will give spoilers.

In a previous post I made I compared The Weeping Monk to Jaime Lannister and it got me thinking about the parallels between Arthur and Jon Snow. I thought of them during the show as well, but only now are they more clear to me and I can make a somewhat coherent post. So let’s dive in.

1) Bastard (Lowborn) becoming King

This may be the most obvious parallel between Arthur and Jon. One is a born a bastard who later on becomes King on his own and the other one is lowborn who will, in the future, become King. Jon lived all his life with “bastard” associated with him and people having a lot of prejudices against him because of his status and he always tried to be more and prove himself much like Arthur, who alligned himself with the wrong people and has his father’s debts on his name.

Both characters work hard to prove themselves and show people their worth. They are honorable men who fight for their people and want what’s best for them. As we all know, Jon is elected King in the North despite his status as bastard (I will talk about his true parentage later on) and I strongly believe that Arthur will become King through his own actions and will demonstrate his worth and inspire people with his good heart.

2) Being accepted by people who initially hated them

This came to me just the other day when I was thinking about them. Jon is accepted by the wildings and they later on become loyal to him and even support him in his quest to regain Winterfell and the Fey embrace Arthur and even trust him enough to be led by him to the ships.

Both proved to this people that they want to help and are not prejudiced against them. The Wildings helped Jon regain his ancestral home and without doubt the Fey will help Arthur in his journey to become King because he gained their trust and loyalty through his actions. 

3) Their swords

We know that each King has his own sword with great value for them. And it is the same case with Jon and Arthur.

Jon received Longclaw from Jeor Mormont and became his. He even altered the bear to a direwolf because it reminded him of Ghost. Now this ties to Arthur and The Sword of Power/Excalibur. We know from the legends that Arthur wields both swords and proves himself worthy by doing so. In the show, he already had for a little while The Sword of Power and if I remember correctly (I may be wrong) it didn’t seem to corrupt in the same way that it corrupted Merlin and sometimes Nimue. Yes, he stole the sword from Nimue but he did so because he wanted to become an honorable men and do right by his father. But it still seemed to have no negative impact over him. I do believe Arthur will wield that sword again and maybe later on he will receive Excalibur before becoming Kind. Swords have meanings, especially for kings.

4) Red Paladins and White Walkers

I already linked the Red Paladins with the Lannister army, but they also have similarities with the White Walkers. Both want to exterminate a race (the Paladisn want to eradicate the Fey and the White Walkers want to eradicate the humans). And obviously, our heroes are trying to stop them and save the persecuted. Jon succeded (obviouslt with a lot of help) and of course Arthur will succeed as well.

5) True parentage

This may be the most important one and I saw few people discuss this. As we all know Jon is actually Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark’s son and he had a legitimate claim to the throne. Now this storyline was ignored in season 8 (and I am still mad about it and won’t shut up about it) and it strongly believe that Arthur is more than he seems. 

We know who Arthur’s father was, but do we know anything about his mother? I may have forgot if there was anything said or shown about his mother, but I believe we know close to nothing about her. Mothers are equally important as fathers as we can clearly see in Jon’s case. This may be important later on.

And for now we have two kings fighting for The Sword of Power/Camelot. Uther is a bastard and not the rightful king as we were already been told and Cumber claims to be the true heir of House Pendragon but he doesn’t have any proof? Like what makes you the true heir? Neither of them are fit to be king. Enter Arthur! He may be exactly what the people need and even a member of House Pendragon as well (I really hope this is true).

Also, people love triangles and they are often shown on TV. You really think the fight will only be between Uther and Cumber? Also, Nimue doesn’t wish to rule upon men so we will exclude her from this. The two “pretended” kings will have to face Arthur later on and it will come as a surprise to them. 

This also reminds me of the triangle between Sansa/Cersei/Daenerys. One was queen and sit on the throne (Cersei/and in our case Uther), one wanted it and claimed to be the rightful heir (Daenerys/for us Cumber) and one didn’t want it and became queen on her own (Sansa/later on it will be Arthur). And we all know which of the three survived.

Now that I’ve presented my arguments, I can tell you that I think Arthur’s arc is incredibly interesting and will develope more in the future. Arthur is a good person who made mistakes and has time to prove himself and bocome the King he is meant to be. It hurts me that people push Arthur aside and consider him boring or not intersting enough (and focus on the antagonist) when he clearly has more planed for him in the future and his story is only at the beginning.

I can’t wait to see what’s in store for Arthur and where his story will go. Let’s show some love for this character and start acknowledging his importance.

[treatian]

The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse

Chapter 62:  Glimpses Through a Crystal Ball

His new bauble was remarkable. When Jefferson had first told him of it, it seemed too much to hope for that it might be a genuine Crystal Ball and not one of those frauds that gypsies placed simple enchantments on to make money. Holding it in his hands, he could see that those fears were unfounded. It was an authentic Crystal Ball, a heavy piece of cloudy rock that distorted the images inside unless the right amount of focus was applied.

Focus. Focus was all he needed to move forward with it, and this was a perfect situation in which to practice with it. True enough, he hoped to use it to identify the man inhabiting the invisible house at the bottom of the mountain, but he didn't want to try too early, lest he fail and alert Merlin's Apprentice to his knowledge of his whereabouts. No, though the Dark Ones in his head screamed at him to go right then, he ignored them so that their screams were only whispers. They'd had the same responsibilities he'd had, and they'd all failed. There was no use repeating what they had done only to get the same results. Nimue said his gift was patience, and he intended to exercise it. Instead, he practiced on this little deal of his, the plot he'd been working on for months now to attain the thing he wanted most. At this moment that was a Regina who would cast a curse that would end this world and take him to the world his son was in.

Focus.

He held the ball in his hands he could see Regina. At first, the image was blurry and unfocused, but he found that the more he desired to see, the more the image cleared. She was in her room. She was pacing, a smile was on her face and she was shaking her hands, looking as if any moment she might begin to jump up and down in excitement. Remarkable. It was just as if he was looking through the mirror only the angle changed as he desired. When she walked, he could see her face, and when she spun around to face the other way, the angle he was looking at changed so he could once more see her face. Odd. He wondered…

Astounding. He'd held that Crystal Ball in his hands and asked to see his book, the one that he'd originally lent to Cora. He'd taken it back when he thought Regina was growing too dependant on it and now he kept it in the other Tower, safe and sound from Regina getting her hands on it again. And there it was! He could see the book hidden in shadows from where it lay upon a dusty table.

And when he wanted to spy Regina again…

There she was! Unphased by the magic she didn't even know was being worked in her room. It was a minor thing, nothing that proved that magic couldn't be felt in the room. Regina was too new and too excited at this moment to really take note if there was. He'd have to conduct further experiments before he used it to glimpse into the house at the bottom of the mountain. Experiments like…

Looking beyond this world.

He didn't want to get his hopes up, or get too excited, so he started with something easy. What he desired was a world of black and white and gray, and what he got was just that. Before him, the foggy image became something blurry, then slowly revealed the familiar lab of Doctor Frankenstein and…Jefferson! His associate was sitting atop the metal table in the center of the room watching the doctor, whose back was turned to him as he packed a black bag. He would have questioned whether Jefferson had approached him yet or not, but the more he looked, the more he saw Frankenstein's unhappy face scowling before him, muttering. When he stopped, the image shifted and he watched as Jefferson's mouth moved as well. They were having a conversation and that allowed him to see the one downside of his new Crystal Ball. No sound. It was just as it had been when Cora placed a spell over the mirrors in her estate, and yet, he didn't find himself upset. This wasn't something that had been done to him as Cora's spell had been, this was simply something brand new to figure out, and perhaps even tinker with. In time, perhaps he'd figure out a way to improve it, but as he sat in his tower watching Jefferson retrieve Regina to introduce her to Frankenstein, he recalled that he was too busy to tinker at the moment. In order for this deal to go off, he needed to provide Frankenstein with a heart.

It was possible, he supposed for Regina to go out and get him one that would work, but he alone knew it couldn't be just any ordinary heart. It would have to be something special in order to maintain the sort of energy the good Doctor needed to pulse through it. Of course, it would need a very special heart for his brother not to go mad from having another heart inside of him…but he hadn't promised that he would provide that, only a heart that would survive the procedure. In the very likely case that Regina wouldn't provide that when she went out to take one for her beloved Daniel, he needed to be prepared.

A fairy heart would do it, but a glance at his two useless dolls reminded him he wasn't much in the mood for their antics. The heart of the Truest Believer, if it was such a thing, might also work, but he wasn't willing to search the world over for it. No, he needed something just a bit more common and yet just as rare. He could think of one heart that fit that description.

"Show me…a heart born of true love…" he muttered into his crystal ball with a smile. Well, that was a mistake. Faces, so many faces, appeared and disappeared inside that glass ball. Too many for him to pick from; old, young, men, women, babies, mothers, fathers, single, married…he couldn't pick anyone out. Not like this.

Frustrated he set the ball aside. True love wasn't as difficult as finding the Heart of the Truest Believer or getting the heart of a fairy, but that appeared to be the problem. It was rare but still common, and therefore there were none he could single out. He didn't know their stories, didn't know what made them tick, their routines…all were necessary if he wanted to keep this quiet, and he did. But then…

A Heart of True Love wasn't the only requirement then. He needed one that was born of True Love, but didn't know it. He needed someone who hadn't come into his abilities, one who had never learned to master them, and better yet someone who didn't know they were in possession of them. The magic created by True Love was powerful. While he could beat them, he didn't particularly feel like spending his time flexing his muscles today, not when he had Regina to watch. He needed an easy target.

With a sigh, he picked up his crystal once more, closed his eyes, and squeezed. "Show me the one whom I must seek."

The command was simple, he wondered if it was too simple, but when he opened his eyes, he saw the crystal ball focusing in on somebody. A boy. No! It was a man. He was short with sandy hair, in the back of a shop of some kind, bent over…a cake! He was decorating it. Normally a female's job to be sure, but he seemed to have a steady hand and keen eye. He'd done this before. A bakery. He owned a bakery. No, he was a man, but only just. And as he watched the image in the ball, he saw a man, one older than him come up behind him and clap him on the back. His father. No doubt he owned the bakery, and his son simply lived there. Where? Where was it?!

"Show me where-"

Before he could finish the question it came to him. As he sat there staring into the ball, the Seer pulled him into a vision.

He saw Father and son exchange words briefly before the boy took his apron off. Finally, he stepped outside into his little town, and took up a wheelbarrow filled with bread. He was surrounded almost immediately by women and children offering him coins for a loaf. The picture shifted to what appeared to be a dark ally. A look of pain on the man's face as he felt himself pull the heart from his chest before sending the boy away. And then he was in the forest again, far from there. He saw Regina dressed in black, smiling at him in the woods, holding the heart of a witch he well knew had been trying to resurrect her sisters. He felt pleasure as he watched Jefferson take the Doctor back to his own realm. His plan had worked.

He pulled free of the vision so quickly and suddenly, he'd nearly dropped the crystal ball. So much information! It buzzed in his head like a hive of bees, but he smiled at it. If the buzzing wasn't so loud he'd have laughed. If he didn't know any better, it was as if the Seer was jealous he'd found a new way to access information and wanted to prove her own worth.

Where would he find the boy? When he'd left the bakery he'd seen a mountain over his shoulder with a castle perched on it. He recognized it. It was the Kingdom of King Maurice. He hadn't spent much time in that Kingdom, just enough to know who ran it and who would someday, unless Maurice and Collette finally had the son they wanted so desperately. But according to the vision, it did appear it was time for a trip. And after that...well, the Seer appeared to have laid his plan for him.

With a smile, he pulled free a spool of gold and used his magic to fashion it into a lovely stand for his new toy; an elegant throne upon which it could be seated. He was eager to get back and see what more it could do, what it could tell him and reveal about the man at the bottom of the mountain. He was even more eager to see if the Seer's jealousy would reveal anything further to him. But, for now, he couldn't let himself be distracted. He had work to do.

Getting the heart was easier than he could ever have expected. No sooner had he set the ball down did he find himself in that ally he'd seen. Perfectly, as he could not have planned it with so little time to prepare, he suddenly caught sight of the boy, pulled his cloak up over his face and eyes, and called forth some of the pain from his ankle to give himself a helpless looking limp. He made a show of falling down and crying out for help, and suddenly there he was before him. A hand on his elbow and one against his shoulder.

"Here," he stated. "Let me help you, Sir! Easy now, easy-"

The next second he'd plunged his hand into his chest and removed the precious item for him. He had the heart of true love in more ways than one, but the second he removed it, the boy gasped and dropped him. By that time, however, he was already upright once more. He giggled as the boy fell to his knees and put his hand to his chest.

"Please!" he whimpered. "Please, have mercy! My mother was killed by ogres, I'm all my father has!"

Mercy indeed, though it wasn't mercy that made him pause to think. He needed this heart intact, which meant that he could not, as he usually did, crush it between his fingers to kill the boy. But he also knew, the second that Frankenstein placed this heart into the chest of his brother, the boy would die. He was almost relieved at that thought. His time was limited. But it wasn't him that would be responsible for his death, not really. It was the doctor. It was unfair, but then...so was life. Given that, mercy would be granted in this case, a short reprieve. After all he was certain he wouldn't need the heart until tomorrow when the Doctor's job was completed. And since he'd mentioned his father…

"Finish your work," he commanded. "Go home and forget all of this." Instantly the boy stood up to his full height. The look in his eyes fell away and went glassy as if he was looking without seeing. "Tell your father you love him before you go to bed and say your prayers for life is short and you never can tell which moment will be your last. There is no predicting when that heart in your chest…" -he reached out to jab his finger at the boy's chest where he felt the gentle thrum of his heartbeat- "will cease to beat."

That would do it. When the doctor used the heart for his brother, then the boy's heart would stop, and he would die. He would die after telling his father he loved him. It was merciful. Or at least that was what he told himself. But if he was right, there was one other death that would not be as merciful. When he took the heart back to his tower and fashioned a box, like the ones he'd always taught Cora to use, he knew there was another job to do as night settled. Especially because things had not gone as planned.

He'd been hoping all the time that Frankenstein would force Regina to rip out a heart for him. But she hadn't. He watched instead as she floundered, she took the two men with her back to her former residence, and once inside stole a heart from her mother's former collection. He could have cracked his new crystal ball in irritation. She had no guile; it seemed. How was he supposed to work with her if not even the promise of Daniel was enough to get her to turn to taking a heart for herself?! Still, he grit his teeth, held the Seer's vision in the forefront of his mind, and watched on hoping that what he saw next might be enough to make it true.

The experiment failed. He watched that much for himself. He watched as the doctor had taken the heart, disappeared into the tent, where he started his equipment with the heart stashed away, and began to doomed experiment as ordered. Foolish man. He thought he was saving that heart for himself. It might help him. Cora had taken many hearts, it stood to reason that there was one among them that had been born of True Love with no manifestation, but whether or not he had the one that he needed…the chances of that were slim. The chances of his plan working however…grew stronger by the second.

Regina grieved. When it didn't work, he watched as the men stood aside and let her rest her head on Daniel's still chest and weep. There would be no preservation spell this year. This was crying, mourning as she hadn't allowed herself to mourn over him yet. It was an end for Daniel. But whether it was a new beginning for Regina, remained to be seen. Which was why, when he brought the Doctor and Jefferson back by magic and the Doctor demanded to be taken home with his prize, he stole that box out of his hand and tossed it into the fire.

"Not so fast!" he piqued as the doctor held his breath while it burned. It was the face of a man who thought all his hopes and dreams had just turned to ash. Until he held up the identical box. "This is what you need for your experiments. But our deal is not complete until I've seen the result of your work."

"I've done exactly what you asked of me!"

"Well then you should have nothing to worry about!" he laughed, before tossing the box to Jefferson. "Keep a close eye on that through the night. Tomorrow, after my lesson with Regina, bring him into the woods with the heart. I'll decide if the deal was fair at that time."

"What am I supposed to do here tonight! Spin wool?" the Doctor asked sarcastically, pointing at his wheel the corner.

"You know…it's not a bad way to pass the time."

With a snap of his fingers, the Doctor was gone in a puff of smoke. If his magic worked right, and it always did, he was currently taking up residence in one of the dungeon cells…with a spinning wheel and wool.

"In his own defense, I think it will work," Jefferson stated.

"As do I, but one must always be sure before business is concluded," he noted, thinking to the vision of Regina he had in his head. He hoped it was enough to push her to that. "Make sure my guest remains comfortable. I will meet you in the woods tomorrow."

"I'll bring the…payment!" he said awkwardly, motioning to the box in his hand. He would have loved to have guarded it himself, but there was one last thing he needed to do to make the vision he'd seen a reality.

"Winnifred Sanders…" he muttered, letting himself into her home and sneaking up behind her as she worked on a brew. She jumped when he arrived. He could hear her heart hammering even as she made an attempt to quiet herself and look unimpressed and unsurprised. She was the witch he'd seen Regina kill in his vision. She'd come to him at one point asking for the power, but he hadn't obliged simply because he couldn't. It was practically Regina all over again. Irritating as she was, he'd been tempted to kill her more than once. But perhaps, if his vision was correct, there was one last thing she had to give him.

"Dark One…to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, just a brief…" he crept up closer to the pot that was simmering and smelled. He smelled hazelnut, jasmine, thyme, but also leather, blood, and wax…all ingredients for a Black Flame Candle, a candle that was said to have the ability to bring people back from the dead…but it was a myth. It was a myth that happened to be born out of the two-sided candle that he had sitting in his workspace right now, the same two-sided candle that had gotten Regina into this mess and helped him along in his own. But she didn't need to know that. "…conversation. I do believe your candle needs a bit more thyme."

"What do you want?" she growled, suddenly moving about her worktable, clearing up the mess and shutting the book that she was studying from-a book with a human eye on the cover. He smiled when he noted that through her rifling she managed to add more thyme to her brew.

"Still trying to master the art of Dark Magic with a second-hand book, I see. Still trying to no avail to save thy sisters Sarah and Martha!"

"Mary! And what does it matter to you? I asked you for help. You said you wouldn't provide it."

"Well then today is your lucky day!" he squealed. "I just so happened to wake up in a generous kind of mood. Tell me…" he pushed the book she'd just closed so that it slid off the table and onto the floor with a heavy thump! "How would you like to learn from the Master himself for one afternoon?"

[thecomicsnexus]

The Wild Hunt

HELLBOY: THE WILD HUNT DECEMBER 2008 - NOVEMBER 2009 BY MIKE MIGNOLA, DUNCAN FEGREDO AND DAVE STEWART

SYNOPSIS (FROM HELLBOY WIKIA)

Part One Following the events of Darkness Calls, Hellboy has been in Italy, with two sisters. While there he dreams.

Hellboy is in a clearing watching the funeral of King Dagda. He is told that Dagda was the last king of the Tuatha de Danann, and that soon all of his kind will leave the world forever. Hellboy sees Alice Monaghan, who last appeared as a baby in The Corpse, but wakes up.

The sisters give Hellboy a letter, and we see that the sister, like Harry Middleton from Darkness Calls, are in fact dead. The letter is from the Osiris Club, and Hellboy promptly heads back to England. In a ruined building he meets three men from the club. They say it has been hard keeping track of him, and briefly recount his adventures from The Island to Darkness Calls. They tell Hellboy that from time to time giants rise from their graves and that a hunt is setup to kill them again. This time six have appeared. They invite Hellboy to join them on the hunt, and he agrees.

Elsewhere in England, Gruagach has taken the box to the top of a hill in the midst of the fey creatures. He says that when the time is right the Queen will speak to the assembled army and gather a great host.

The hunt charges out on horseback to a bridge. One of the men in the hunt impales Hellboy on a spear and he tumbles into the river. The hunt master tells Hellboy that he should not have returned, and that a Demon will never sit on the throne of England. He then activates the spear and it electrifies Hellboy.

Part Two Hellboy lies impaled in the river bank. He yells out in pain and suddenly finds himself in a room full of dead knights. In the center sits a figure with a crown on his head and a red dragon on his mantel.

Hellboy wakes up in the river surrounded by the hunters now dead. A bird tells him that he was made invisible by a flower from the bird's mistress. Hellboy travels back to the giants, throws down the flower and attacks the giants.

Gruagach is approached by Astaroth, in the guise of an old man. Astaroth asks him why he is in the form of a boar. Gruagach tells his story including the events of The Corpse. Astaroth gives him a covered gold cup filled with the blood of an entire village. Gruagach pours the blood into the box, and a blood covered woman rises out.

Part Three Hellboy travels to Alice Monaghan's house in Ireland. Alice says that she started to see the fairies again. Hellboy says that he meant to come sooner after Dagda's funeral, but that he ran into trouble. Alice says that they have to go meet someone.

The woman sits on the box that once held her body. A witch approaches her and tells the Queen that the witches are hiding until they know what she will do. The Queen harms two witch who betrayed her, and forgives all other witches for leaving her in the box. She calls for an army of forgotten peoples to rise with her.

Hellboy and Alice travel to meet with Queen Mab. Alice tells Hellboy that there is going to be a war. She explains that it is Hellboy's fault because he wronged Gruagach, destroyed Hecate, and refused to be king of the witches, so that Gruagach raised a new queen. Mab appears and tells them that the new queen of witches only wants war and bloodshed. She explains that while on The Island the dead man took his blood and became the thing Hellboy was meant to be. Hellboy was sent to destroy the world, even if he rejects it. Mab says he cannot escape it, but his only chance is through his mother, and that he is bound to wear a crown and raise an army to oppose the Queen of Blood. A small creature appears as the issue ends.

Part Four Hellboy remembers back to the hunt when he slaughtered the giants and in the moment his horns grew back.

The creature introduces himself as Edmund and leads Alice and Hellboy between the worlds. On the way Alice asks Hellboy what it was like to be dead, but Hellboy does not really have an answer. Edmund asks Hellboy about a goddess who one lived under a tree in Leicestershire. Hellboy killed the creature in 1962 and her followers, small men, rise from the ground and attack Hellboy. Edmund calls Hellboy murderer and asks how many beings of power he has killed. The little men throw small poison spears and one hit Alice in the hand. Three birds arrive and scare away the creatures. The birds transform into three women say that their lady has medicine that can help and transport them to the outside of a castle surrounded by a moat of fire.

Part Five Gruagach sits with his head resting in the Queen of Blood's lap. She sees that her army is beginning to assemble. Gruagach says that he could serve her better if he was restored to his former power. She says that when the time is right he will be strong again and Hellboy will be his.

The bird women tell Hellboy that the castle has been under siege by demons for five hundred years. Hellboy goes to defeat the demon guarding the bridge. The demon throws Hellboy around, until one of the lesser demons in the moat of fire tells Hellboy his secret. Hellboy cracks the demon's ring and the assembled legions disappear.

Once inside an old man gives Alice a cup of medicine. Hellboy turns around to see the lady of the castle, Morgan Le Fey.

The Queen of Blood greets an ambassador from Jutland. He says that on the day of battle his king will fight at her side, and gives her a crown. She orders the ambassador to hammer the crown into a knife to kill his king and to make her an iron helmet in the form of three ravens. She says she will be known not as the Queen of Witches but as Goddess of War.

Part Six Hellboy, Alice and Morgan Le Fay sit at a table and talk. Morgan asks Hellboy if he knows who she is. Hellboy answers that Morgan is King Arthur's half-sister, and mother of Arthur's only son, Mordred. Mordred and Arthur killed each other in battle, and Arthur's remaining knights killed Mordred's three sons. However Mordred also had a daughter, and she lived producing a line of daughters, witches all. Morgan says that the final daughter was Sarah Hughes, Hellboy's mother. She explains that Hughes married the demon Azzael in 1574, and though she tried to repent on her deathbed, (as seen in The Chained Coffin, her human children were killed and only Hellboy remains as the heir to King Arthur and rightful King of Britain.

Morgan takes Hellboy through a door and into a hilly meadow. In the center in a small pool lies a sword in a stone. She tells him that because he died and lived again the noble dead of Britain will follow him into battle.

Hellboy asks who the Queen of Blood really is. Morgan explains that she is Vivienne, also called Nimue, who charmed Merlin and took his power. She heard the call of the Ogdru Jahad and it drove her mad. The other witches killed her, but now she lives again, and only wants blood.

Hellboy has a flashback to when he killed the giants. He sees his potential to become the beast of the Apocalypse, but breaks off his horns denying that path. She tells him that with the sword he can save his people. Hellboy asks Morgan, now clearly a dead corpse, why she cares about the world. She responds that her son, Mordred, should have been king, but that Hellboy will be.

Part Seven Hellboy walks through Morgan's castle thinking about what he has learned. He enters Alice's room only to see Vasilisa standing beside Alice sleeping. Vasilisa admonishes Hellboy to be careful. Alice wakes up and asks Hellboy about the sword Excalibur, and why Hellboy did not take it. She asks him if something happened before he came to her house. He remembers the giants, but says nothing. Alice tells Hellboy about her dream. She stood in a room of noble knights waiting, in the center King Arthur stood and told her that she was bound to the sword and that she would be the first to see the new king crowned. She tells Hellboy that all will be ok if he takes the sword.

Hellboy hears howling and leaves Alive. Astaroth appears and tells him it is the wild hunt. The Demon mentions that some think King Vold rides at its head. Hellboy replies that some say it is the Devil, but Astaroth says Satan has been asleep for almost two thousand years. He tells Hellboy that one day he will travel to Hell, kill Satan and claim the crown of Hell. He will take up his father's sword and lead the army of Hell. He will break down the walls of Hell and create a paradise for them on earth.

Hellboy's shadow grows telling him that all this will happen. The shadow wears the crown of Hell and bears the sword of Hell. Hellboy fights his shadow, all the while Astaroth tells him he must take up Excalibur to prevent Nimue's holocaust of blood, and that the one sword will lead him to the other. His shadow grows to enormous size and beats Hellboy. Suddenly fire shoots out of Hellboy and in an instant Astaroth and the Shadow are gone. The fire disappears and Hellboy stands in the smoldering castle.

Part Eight Hellboy walks through the smoking castle looking for Alice. He enters her room to see her smoking corpse in what is left of her bed. Vasilisa appears again and asks why he did not pull out the sword. Hellboy tells her he is afraid of his own love of bloodshed. Vasilisa responds that Alice believed the sword would save him. Slowly Hellboy approaches the sword. Many creatures from Hellboy's past look on. Mab comments that Dagda should have lived to see this. Astaroth, Sir Edward Grey, Mohlomi, the Baba Yaga and Koku all look on as Hellboy pulls the sword from the stone.

Suddenly Hellboy stands, sword in hand, with Alice. She remembers nothing of their trip to Morgan's castle. Morgan sits at a table with playing pieces on it. Two skeleton armies face each other one black one white with a red figure in the center.

The Queen of Blood challenges Hellboy saying that even with the sword he is no match for her. Gruagach asks the be restored to his former power but says that she cannot do it. Enraged she rejects him and throws him out of the camp.

The members of the Osiris Club stand around a crystal ball watching Hellboy. Two try to call the Prime Minister but are shot by other members. The men explain that they are the original seven members from the club's founding in 1866 when Larzod appeared to them and told them to await the coming of a king. In the end they plan to cut off his right hand and use it elevate themselves. The original seven kill the remaining 'new' members.

In the mountains the sound of hammers are heard. A King is dead stabbed by a jeweled knife. A short man hammers at a mighty forge. Crying he lifts a helmet in the form of three ravens.

REVIEW

Not all my reviews happen in the order they come out... but I am just fresh out of reading Camelot 3000. So I feel like I am up to speed with the source material.

The one thing I don’t feel goes well in this story, is that we don’t get all the reveals until pretty much the end. And it is not a complete story (it is only a beginning), so, I don’t know... maybe a framing story could have distributed the information a bit better. The story is still good, especially if you binge the whole thing. I think it is lack of familiarity for me. Hellboy readers will probably enjoy the pace in this mini.

In a way I feel that the best happens in the future, as the story sets the board for a great war. So it doesn’t feel satisfying. It does, however, deal with very important information about Hellboy’s role in the world. So even if the main conflict doesn’t get resolved, at least we got a very interesting story.

Duncan Fegredo doesn’t have the same style as Mignola, but is similar enough to fool a few. I actually like his style, is a bit cleaner, but both are great at this.

I give this book a score of 8

[courtorderedcake]

Untitled, Double Dark Ones drabble

Found in my "WIP - untitled" folder.

Blame this completely on @thisonesatellite who had me searching for my illusive prompt list, or billions of things that I will never write.

No beta, so no better than my usual junk.

Rated M, for gore, multi character death, OUAT forgiveness of everything, a mention of sex, and whump. Would you like fries with that?

Tagging whump machines.

@hollyethecurious @doodlelolly0910 @sherlockianwhovian @killian-whump @artistic-writer

--------------------------🌹----------------------------

Neither of them can destroy the other, without ending their own selfish needs as well. It frustrated both of them, but both of them are happy to use each other in the less contentious moments.

So, the games of torment, of pure hatred that true love bore, carnal needs satisfied in brutal couplings just to forget the names of so many who have died in their war. To drown out the darkness, it's voice no longer the crocodile or Nimue, but their own.

His strikes have an easier grace to them, maybe because he's simply been so deep in revenge before, his teeth and claws easier to sharpen. The Darkness was an old friend made captain.

She does not take to it easily, fighting their purported nature. The Dark Swan cried when he held her Father by the neck, and begged for his life when he bled slowly to death from nightshade. The man had stabbed him. Stabbed the Dark one. Revenge was the expected outcome. A pity that her mother, the queen, had gotten in the way. Respect was difficult to earn without some bloodshed.

Even if part of him dies with David, and another as he watches Snow struggle towards her family. Snow held her husband's body, and Emma both, forgiveness on her lips for the Dark One and her daughter.

“Emma… Don't give in. Don't do it. It isn't him. Fight for your true love.”

Last words whispered to two beings that could never feel anything again. Or, that's what was easier to pretend, at least.

Killian can only watch, the Darkness bemused as Emma ran, fled to lick her wounds until their next encounter. As she steeped in revenge. It doesn't take long.

She burned the harbor, burned his sanctuary and every vessel seaside for miles, the sea a blanket of fire. The fire burned his trunk, the home of every piece of Liam and Milah he'd replaced with Emma's pretty face.

He razed The Enchanted Forest as her subjects flee in terror, and only stops when it's her boy, her son, he's almost burning to death. Her adopted son, the darkness tried to taunt, but her son and the boy Killian returned to raise. Henry's eyes barely recognize him, and Killian feels the recoil, the man who saw this boy as close to his own son surfacing in haste.

Emma doesn't show emotion in her eyes, the tilt of her shoulders, or hard won smile anymore. The surprise on her face is an arched eyebrow, a look of resigned relief, a little give in the tight lines and angles that she is as this dark queen.

“Thank you.” She whispered softly, Henry resting with a doctor. Handing him a glass, she sat by the fire with her own goblet resting on the black of her dress. The distance is purposeful, her pensive frown in it's crimson color like the red of forbidden fruit.

“If that's all his life means to you,” He swaggered towards her, throwing back his drink. “or is another form of gratitude in order?”

Their kisses are frantic and so is their fucking, peace restored for another set of years until the next wars. It's an uneasy truce and forgiveness in quarters that doesn't come without quarrel. It is something.

They watch the world move by, the same mistakes made with or without their touch.

They took no part in the attacks themselves, instead wreaking havoc and sowing mischief in small ways, changing the odds of battle and tipping the scales of fate.

They forget in the terrible lull of almost humanity that magic always comes with a price.

The war spread, closer and closer, until the sea burnt and shipwrecks littered the shoals and shores. It crawled at first then dug in its claws to sprint, blood shed like brush fire. One of Killian’s men made mad with his own strength, pulled his sword from King Henry's chest, Queen Jacinda and the princess slaughtered in the siege.

Emma did not run. She raged, burned as bright as a second sun. The war is over in a blast that is indiscriminate in its destruction, but this is not enough, and the Dark Swan is not nearly done. Killian, the Dark One, knew true pain and true fear for the first time as Emma destroyed him and put him back together again. The darkness in him echoed his own screams, and they are turned inside out, burnt, frozen, tortured in new ways that only another with darkness inside them could create.

In a sudden moment of weakness, Emma shrieked to the skies; they are unable to die, she cannot join her family, she cannot disappear, cannot escape her thoughts.

Killian understood.

Killian ran, for her sake, across the ruined world. Another chase, a hunt that kills both prey and predator. As the years pass, the few people remaining rebuild, trees grow, plants sprout from scorched earth, green returning to a world of charcoal and embers.

Killian studied the old texts, any that are left, and continued to flee from Emma's grasp. They danced around each other, ships in the night passing ever closer. There are times when the attempts were sloppy, as if she's bored, and others where he can see the fire behind glassy eyes. Her attacks were precise and her accuracy frightening. Killian licked his wounds after barely escaping more than a few times.

They both wondered what they will do if Emma does manage to capture him again.

She appeared, eyes full of that flame, and this time Killian was ready with determination of his own. Emma was brutal, speed and hatred, tears streaking across her cheeks as she lept toward him.

It doesn't matter what she does to him.

Killian managed to hit her on the neck, and her surprise echoed through the woods. They are right where he has planned, the clearing full of pink flowers that sway in the breeze, that make the blood coming from her neck look dark against their brightness. Wine on blush lips, deep crimson on soft petals.

Clutching her neck, Emma stumbled toward him, and he caught her with the same grace that they danced with all this time. The sword was thrown aside as he lays her down, carefully, holding her delicately as she looks at him with sad adoration.

“I'm sorry.” The gurgled whisper startled him, but Killian laughed gently at her, finally pushing her hair away from her face to see her eyes. There's no more anger held there, only the tiniest flicker of hope. “Killian, I -”

“Hush, love.” Stroking her cheek soothingly, Emma reached to touch his hair, tracing the lines of his face, gently skimming over his scar. When she rested her thumb on his lips his own tears started to fall. His hand gripped the pommel of the discarded sword. “It's not going to hurt you, is it?” his words are strangled, but Emma made soft noises to quiet him, gently wiping at his eyes.

“If it does, it will only be for a moment. Like ripping off a dressing.” Killian felt himself chuckle despite himself, a sob catching in his throat as he gripped the sword. “Will you…?”

An unspoken question that was understood immediately. He nodded.

“Yes. I'd follow you to the end of the world, or time.” She sighed in contentedness, almost looking as she did when they met.

“Do it.”

Killian leaned forward, letting their foreheads touch. After a moment, he kissed her softly, and pulled away. Gazing into her eyes one more time, he whispered hoarsely into the quiet glade, raising the sword above her chest.

“As you wish, my love.”

Emma was right, her pain lasted only a moment before her face stilled into what looked like a peaceful slumber. Color returned to her, as the darkness was rinsed away by the pallor of eternal rest.

Laying next to her after carefully setting up his rig, Killian interlocked his fingers in the lingering warmth of hers. He looked up at the sword, the darkness in him caged, giving a quiet protest. Looking at Emma, his Emma, before names on swords and swirling ink, he cut the rope with his hook.

The sword burned in his chest, all but forgotten by the blackness that encroached on his view of his love.

The darkness that held him for the last time was different than what dwelled inside him for so long. It was warm, fluid and gentle, guiding him towards something he could not see. Her fingers in his again, Emma pulled him into color and light. There a crowd of people waited who forgot owed apologies, in lieu of welcoming him home.

[swanqueeneverafter]

60. The Final Battle, Pt.4

Enchanted Forest. (Clayton and his rabble are gathered outside the woods.) Clayton: “The Troll is in there. I say we charge in, torches blazing! (The rabble agree, shouting loudly. An arrow whistles by Clayton, clipping his ear as it passes. The men stop shouting as Clayton turns to see Robin stood with her bow raised:) How the hell did you get out?” Robin: “Basic pin-tumbler lock? Child's play. So do you want my help, or do you just want to charge in there like a bunch of losers?” Clayton: “You're just a little girl that couldn't even hit me from 10 feet away.” Robin: “I wasn't trying to hit you. And I wouldn't underestimate ‘little girls.’ I'm Robin Hood.” (The men laugh at this.) Clayton: “You're the legendary Robin Hood? I thought he was a little taller.” Robin: “He was my father. It's my mantle now. And I'll prove it to you.” Clayton: “I'd like to see this. All right, Girl Robin Hood. You've got one shot.” (Robin steps forward and watches as the Troll walks by. Noticing the angry villagers with pitchforks, the Troll heads towards them. Robin reaches for an arrow and notches it to her bow. When she’s about to let the arrow loose, Alice runs in, tackling Robin to the ground.) Robin: (Scrambling to her feet:) “Seriously, Tower Girl?” Alice: “Turns out, I have more than one hairpin.” Clayton: “You Troll-loving lunatic. I warned you to stay out of our way. (To the men:) This girl's troubled. And I don't like trouble.” Robin: (Stepping between them:) “Hey, back off, jerk wad! We'll find the Troll again, okay?” Clayton: “No. She needs to be taken care of.” Robin: (Raising her bow, aiming an arrow at his face:) “Did you not hear me? I said leave her alone.” Clayton: “I thought you wanted to join our campaign. Are you a Troll-Lover now, too?” Robin: “I would rather be a Troll-Lover than fight beside a bully like you.” (Clayton lunges, knocking the bow from Robin’s hands. Now unarmed, the men begin to close in on Robin and Alice.) Robin: (To Alice:) “We need to get out of here. We need an escape.” Alice: “Escape, right.” (Closes her eyes and concentrates hard.)

Will: (Appearing at the top of a hill:) "Oi! Get away from my sister!" (Will hurries down the hill and pushes his way into the centre of the circle, coming face to face with Clayton.) Clayton: "This crazy girl is your sister?" Will: "Yeah, that's right. And she's not crazy. She's just a little mad." (Will winks to Alice who smiles.) Clayton: "Listen, friend, these two have been nothing but pains in our backsides since we met them." Will: "Well, that's women for ya, ain't it. But I’ll tell you something, if you touch a hair on either one of their heads, I'll kill ya." Clayton: (Squaring up to Will:) "Yeah? You and what army?" Will: (Whistles:) "This one.” (Will turns to look back up the hill. Tiana appears at the top, flanked by Lost Boys carrying torches, Camelot Knights and their swords and even Munchkins carrying sharpened candy canes.) Storybrooke. Gothel’s Garden. (Regina rolls to the ground, having successfully avoided a blast from Gothel.) Gothel: (Stalking towards Regina:) “That's the problem with humans. They don't know when to let go.” Regina: (Springing to her feet:) “Letting go has never been my thing.”

(This time, Gothel catches Regina with a powerful blast of magic, sending Regina flying several feet away and crashing to the ground.) Main Street. (Surrounded by the newly awoken residents of Storybrooke, David & Snow White head for David's truck in the hopes of finding the rest of their family.) David: “Come on. We can cover more ground in the truck. (He opens the door and in the window he sees two Dark Ones following them:) Behind you!” (Soon the rest of the group, including Leroy and the dwarfs, are surrounded by numerous Dark Ones, who begin to close in around them.) Henry: (A short distance away:) “Help, help me!” (David and Snow run towards the sound of Henry’s voice. They arrive in time to see Nimue approaching Henry.) David: “Hey! Stay away from my Grandson!” Nimue: “Too late for that.” (Nimue walks through Henry, before disappearing in a cloud of smoke.) Snow White: (Runs forward:) “Henry! Henry, are you okay?!” Henry: “I-I think so.” (David, Zelena and the Dwarfs all catch up to Snow and Henry.) David: “What just happened to us?!” Zelena: “I think I may have the answer to that. Check your wrists.” (Everyone checks their wrists. They all have the same mark.) Snow White: “What is that?” Zelena: “That... is the mark of Charon.” Henry: “Charon? He was the ferryman in the old myths. He navigated a boat... to the Underworld.” Zelena: “Clever you. Back when Hades and I were an item, he took great pleasure in filling me in on how he ran the Underworld. You see, the Dark Ones that we just saw, only have a... a temporary pass into this world, like a tourist visa. The only way for them to stay... is to trade places with living souls.” David: “Meaning us?” Zelena: “Exactly. (Points to the moon:) And, unless I’m mistaken, when the moon reaches its peak, the ferry from the underworld will arrive... and drag us down there.” David: “To the Underworld. Haven’t we done this already?” Nimue: (Reappearing, flanked by dozens of Dark Ones:) “Indeed you have. But this time, you will all be taking our places in the Underworld. As its new permanent residents.” (Nimue raises her hand and the marks on everyone’s wrists begin to glow and burn before they disappear from Main Street.)

Enchanted Forest. (Alice, Robin, Will and Tiana arrive at the foot of Alice's tower.) Alice: (Sighs, staring up at the tower:) "Here it is. Home sweet tower. I hate this place. I hate its stupid stones and its stupid turret and its dumb mossy base. And I hate... I hate that all I've wanted to do since I left is come back. At least when I was trapped, I could have hope that when I got free, everything would be okay. But then I did. (Sobbing:) And it wasn't.” (Will moves to comfort her, but Robin beats him to it.) Robin: “Hey, hey. It's okay.” Alice: (Turns to face her:) “No, no, it's not okay. Who in their right mind wants to be a prisoner?! I've escaped these walls but I'm still bloody trapped. (Looks to Will:) I'll never be free of it, will I?” (At that moment, the Troll’s growling can be heard in the distance. The next instant, a large tree is seen hurtling through the air, hitting the tower and destroying it. Everyone runs for cover from the falling debris.)

(Alice & Robin take cover behind one tree while Will & Tiana duck behind another. The Troll meanwhile, growls into the night.) Robin: “Alice you need to stop the Troll. Now.” Alice: “How am I supposed to do that?! Just say ‘Hey! Troll! Stop!’” (Immediately, the Troll stops his growling.) Robin: “Yes. If anybody can do it, you can do it. (The Troll enters the clearing beside the remnants of Alice’s tower:) Look, you may be mad, but you have magic. I can sense it. Alice, the Troll came home because you wanted to come home. And back there when we needed an escape? - Your brother appeared.” Alice: “What are you saying?” Robin: “What if all those years ago when you wanted to escape the Tower, you created the Troll?” Alice: (Thinks:) “I wished for him on my birthday or at least, to be free.” Robin: “Why has he come back?” Alice: “Because... because today is my birthday. (Voice breaking:) And I didn't want to be alone.” Robin: “You're not alone. I'm here. Your brother’s here. Don't you see? It was you all along. You saved yourself.” (The Troll picks up the tree he threw earlier and is about to take another swing at the tower when Alice emerges.) Alice: “Hello, old friend. (The Troll stops, mid swing:) It's me, Alice. I'm all grown up, aren't I? And I've been so many places since we saw each other last. It's curiouser and madder and sadder and so much more wonderful out here than I ever imagined it could be. (The Troll puts down the tree and crouches before Alice:) So thank you. You don't have to worry about me anymore. 'Cause I'm okay. I promise. I think, after all this time I'm finally... Gosh, it's such a big, beautiful word, isn't it? Free.” (With tears in her eyes, Alice reaches up and rubs the Troll’s nose affectionately. The next moment, the Troll sits down and magically turns to stone. Alice sniffles and sobs as Robin comes over to comfort her. Stepping out from behind their own tree, Will and Tiana share a sigh of relief.) Tiana: “That... was incredible.” Will: “Yeah, I never even knew.” Tiana: “Listen, Will, I haven’t known Tiger Lily all that long, but her description of the Guardian was pretty specific. If we-” Will: “Let me stop you there, your majesty. I’ve got a confession to make. Ever since I heard the words ‘force of nature’ I knew exactly who we were dealing with. It’s the same person I swore to protect Robin from and who locked Alice away in that bloody tower. Mother Nature... Or Mother Gothel, as she prefers to be known, has already left her mark on us. I don’t care about any prophesy, Alice isn’t going anywhere near that witch again.” Tiana: (As Will turns to check on his sister:) “Even to save all the realms? (Will turns back towards her:) This Gothel you speak of, she isn’t going to stop until humanity is wiped out. That means there will be no place for you to live out your lives that is beyond her reach.”  Will: (Chuckles mirthlessly:) "You know, it's funny. We were going to use that magic bean to travel to where Gothel is. We were going to make her lift the curse she put on my heart that separates me and Alice. But now, (Shaking his head:) now that I know that's exactly what Gothel wants? There is no way we're going back there. I'm sorry."

Storybrooke. Gothel's Garden. (Gothel stands using her powers to conjure a raging inferno while chanting. Emma arrives to see Regina laying prone on the ground.) Emma: (Running over to her:) "Regina! Hold on, Regina. (Cradling Regina into her arms:) I’ve got you. Regina? (Lightning splits the sky:) Regina, I'm sorry it took me so long, but I'm here. I remember. I finally remember everything. Please come back to me, ‘Gina. (Sobbing:) Come back. I love you.” (Emma leans down and kisses Regina. A burst of light courses throughout the fields, extinguishing Gothel’s flame before travelling through the town and beyond.) Regina: (Slowly waking, looks up, sighs:) “Emma.” Emma: (Laughs, relieved:) “Yeah.” Regina: “You did it. You broke the curse.” Emma: “No, no we did it. (They kiss again passionately for a long, beautiful moment before getting to their feet:) I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you.” Regina: “Oh, Emma. I'm just glad to have you back.” (As they’re about to kiss again, someone clears their throat, gaining Emma and Regina’s attention. They turn to see the entire landscape has changed. Where they were once in an open field, they are now surrounded by trees, a grotesque looking statue and four people watching them awkwardly.)

Robin: (Stepping forward:) “Aunt Regina?” Regina: “Robin?” Emma: (Confused:) “Robin? How is that possible - how long were we cursed?” Regina: (Shakes her head:) “I’ll tell you later. (To Robin:) How did you get here?” Will: (Chiming in:) “You tell us. One minute we’re alone in the forest, and the next, the ground is shaking and we end up back here.” Emma: (Smiles, looking past him:) “You found each other.” Will: (Softens, turns to see Alice walk forward:) “Yeah, we did.” (Alice’s smile fades as her gaze falls upon Gothel.) Gothel: “My, what a touching reunion. I’m so glad I got to witness it. Thank you, Emma and Regina. Your true love’s kiss was the last piece of the puzzle. You brought the Guardian right to me. (Holding out her hand:) Now, come take your rightful place beside me, Alice.”

[aion-rsa]

Cursed Review (Spoiler-Free)

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This Cursed review contains NO spoilers.

Though many people watching the new Netflix series Cursed may have heard of the character Nimue, they may not be super familiar with how she connects to the story of King Arthur. 

Because, unfortunately, although most of us know the basics of this legend – heroic king, a magical sword and a powerful wizard – its women are generally treated as afterthoughts, and remarkable only in the way their lives impact the stories of the tale’s various men. The difference is usually only in whether they’re adulteresses (Guinevere), outright monsters (Morgan Le Fay), or romantic cannon fodder (Elaine of Astolat).

In most versions of the King Arthur story, the witch Nimue is significant because she entraps Merlin and steals his magic, often imprisoning him in a tree or a cave along the way. In many retellings, she’s also the Lady of the Lake, the vaguely supernatural being who entrusts Arthur with the sword Excalibur. But despite the fact that her character appears in many versions of this story, we know comparatively little about her. 

In fact, most of the original texts can’t even agree on what her name is – what is essentially the same character across various versions of the legend is referred to as Nimue, Niniane or even Viviane, and the one thing that’s generally consistent about her is that she doesn’t possess consistent or definitive personality traits, let alone a character arc.

Cursed attempts to step into this longtime narrative gap, offering not just a complex, messy take on a young Nimue, but placing her in a world in which women drive the story rather than simply exist at its margins. And while its story is far from perfect, this dedicated shift in focus allows us to look at this legend in an entirely new way. 

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In this version of things, Nimue is a young Fey girl, the daughter of her clan’s High Priestess who’s forced to repress her powerful abilities because the other villagers think she’s full of dangerous dark magic. She dreams of a new life in a distant land – one where no one knows who she is or what she can do. (And where the tyrannical religious order known as the Red Paladins isn’t obsessively burning her kind alive.)

Fate, however, has other plans for her. And when she acquires a hidden, magical sword along with instructions to deliver it to the wizard known as Merlin, her life changes forever.

13 Reasons Why alum Katherine Langford stars as a Nimue who’s complicated, but easy to root for. She’s feisty and likable, with an undercurrent of darkness and anger that feels realistic, given the world in which she’s living. Torn among freedom, duty, and a desire to be recognized for her own power, she’s far from a perfect character. In fact, she makes plenty of decisions that can feel selfish or downright stupid at various points in the story. Yet, her continuous attempts to fight for and protect her people make it easy to see why many are motivated to follow her and to hold her up as a symbol of a better world than the one offered by the corrupt King Uther Pendragon.

But as her use of the sword begins to bring about consequences – and to have unexpected effects on Nimue herself – she’ll have to decide what’s most important to her, and what she’s willing to risk in order to protect the things she cares about.

Unlike many of the Arthur myths themselves, Nimue isn’t the only woman at the center of this action. Perhaps some viewers will find Cursed’s relentless girl power attitude tiresome, but I suspect female fans who’ve been waiting an awfully long time to see themselves play a meaningful role in the Arthur legend won’t have much of a problem with it. (I am 100% projecting here, just saying.) 

Nimue’s presence in the story is bolstered by at least a half dozen other significant female characters, who all have agendas and clearly defined arcs of their own. From village girls to a vengeful nun, and warrior women to old crones, these women are driving the story in a way that doesn’t happen very often in shows like this. It’s refreshing and a ton of fun to watch.

Central figures from the Arthurian legend show up as well, including the once and future king himself, here played by Devon Terrell as an unsure young mercenary trying to figure out his place in the world.

Gustaf Skarsgård’s Merlin is also particularly great, a simultaneously timeless and world-weary mess who drinks too much and seems manipulative and mad more often than he does heroic. This version of the character sits much closer to the magician’s Welsh origins as a prophetic poet than to T.H.’s White’s more familiar wise, backward-living counselor and the story is all the better for it.

The series also sports many hidden Easter eggs for fans of Arthurian legend, as various famous faces from the story pop throughout this series in new and unexpected places. Many of the recognizable names will belong to characters who at first seem quite far removed from the versions viewers are probably most familiar with. But for the most part, the changes are grounded in core truths about their identities, and several of these revelations are precisely the sort of twists that make the prospect of a second season so exciting to contemplate.

At various points, Cursed can feel a bit overcrowded, plot-wise, what with all the Fey politics, violent religious persecution, hooded assassins, and multiple armies clashing for want of a crown. (The introduction of competing groups of Northern Viking warriors is particularly confusing as most of the characters – save for the Red Spear – feel relatively interchangeable.)

And for all that Cursed is a story that is driven by the hunt for a magical sword, this is an Arthurian retelling that doesn’t have a ton of actual magic in it. Nimue’s abilities are powerful but draining enough that they must be used sparingly. And though Merlin is still an important figure in this story, it’s not entirely – or even mostly – because of his magical skill.

The result of all this is that this ends up being a much more violent take on the Arthur myth than many recent attempts, one in which violent religious oppressors burn those who disagree with them and battles teem with spurting blood and hacked-off appendages.

The Sword in the Stone this isn’t, is what I’m saying. But that’s a good thing.

Arriving on Netflix so soon after the streaming service’s hit series The Witcher, viewers may be tempted to write Cursed off as a pointless attempt to ride its medieval fantasy coattails. But that would be a mistake. 

This is a show with its own voice and its own agenda – to center female perspectives in a story that’s been lacking them for far too long. And this time, even if it should turn out that Nimue is once again destined to meet a tragic end when Cursed is finished, at least we’ll know enough about her to mourn her when she’s gone.

The post Cursed Review (Spoiler-Free) appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[nimuetheseawitch]

I love how much Hildy judges Pete Campbell. It's constant. And he deserves it.

[nimuetheseawitch]

I want all of Joan's clothes. All of them.

[nimuetheseawitch]

I love Roger Sterling's glasses. He should wear them more often.

[nimuetheseawitch]

"Who is Donald Draper?" They really do just have Adam ask that in the fifth episode and then spend 7 seasons both answering and not answering that question.

[nimuetheseawitch]

"I couldn't go back there" is the first honest thing Dona Draper says in the show, and it's one of the last honest things he says too.

[nimuetheseawitch]

"Kids today, they have no one to look up to... because they're looking up to us."

- Don Draper, Mad Men

[nimuetheseawitch]

I love the detail of all the women in Mad Men taking off an earring to talk on the phone. Those big clip-on earrings, how casual and practiced the motion is, it's perfect.