MERLINLADIES’ FAVOURITE COSTUMES Gwen’s embroidered Top And Fur Vest in 4x13 “The Sword In The

Not to Merlin-post in the year of our Lord 2024, but I love Gwen as a character. She goes through too much honestly. She deserves such a good life and so much love. I want to see a spin off show about Gwen's reign as queen because that would be awesome.

FULFILLING THE GREAT PROPHECY

I was always frustrated because I felt like the "Arthur is going to be this great king and unite Albion" thing never came to pass or only kind of did sparingly BUT maybe it's that thing with prophecies where they come to pass in unexpected ways.

So maybe the great prosperity and uniting of Albion happens because of Gwen's peaceful, fair, and progressive reign, which technically happens because Arthur made the choice to marry when she was a commoner. She wouldn't have been on the throne otherwise. I'm calling it. I believe she would be a freaking great queen. With her empathy and intelligence and bravery? Hell yeah!

It's very likely that she had the guts to finally lift the ban on magic during her reign (and all that entails) which Arthur was never able to do because he had trouble /didn't have the chance to work through the negative feeling about magic that had been instilled in him by his father. Merlin was never able to push him to do so because he became too entrenched in supporting the current power structures because he was blinded by his love for and devotion to Arthur. Maybe they could have gotten there in time (there are hints of that), but instead the revelation is made inadvertently and the end of the show happens before they cross that boundary. That's one of the great tragedies of the show. It painfully demonstrates how power corrupts and people can be forced to try to work within a system that is actively harming them, especially when they love and believe in the people entrenched in that system.

Maybe Morgana had a twisted sixth sense about this too because she's peculiarly focused on Gwen being queen for a lot of reasons (SHE EVEN HAS VISIONS ABOUT IT).

Anyway, I'm sure someone has said this before.

Thoughts?

for the @merlinmicrofic prompt "harvest" Gaius/Geoffrey, G , no warnings, 290 words, ao3 link

seedling

You'll want to wait for the grain to wither, to go brittle-dry, before you take the scythe to it. Not meant to be cut are stalks still full of sap, unless nature made them weak. Or so Death would reason if it had a voice.

By Uther's wrath though, old and young alike fell before the reaper. The king's most trusted were tasked to ensure bountiful yield. There were lists.

Gaius felt sick. He had sworn, he'd sworn to leave his old life behind and all that came with it. Magic. Tradition. Conscience? “I couldn't bear it,” the king had said, “if any harm came to you,” and Gaius had cowered before the threat.

There were lists, and Gaius felt sick. “So many souls.”

Geoffrey looked up, gaze sharp, quill idling. “Do you not love our king?”

“And do you not love me?”

It was as much as either of them could say out loud. The moment lingered, then something broke between them. The quill resumed its scratching. The reaper bound sheafs.

Sneaking out in the night was not something that came easily to Gaius. He cursed this bout of courage as fear constricted his throat, a premonition of the hangman's noose.

Up in the tower over the courtyard, there was a light in the window. The infant prince must be keeping his wet nurse up again. Would he one day have to pick the fruit grown from his father's bitterness, and choke on it? Had fate, moving its playing pieces into place, already entrapped him in its vines?

“Gaius?” The blonde girl's eyes shone bright with fear and magic both. “What of my sister?”

“Don't be afraid. She will be safe.” Gaius took her hand. “Come, Morgause, let's go.”

So you know when you're writing a scene where the hero is carrying an injured person and you realize you've never been in this situation and have no idea how accurate the method of transportation actually is?

Oh boy, do I have a valuable resource for you!

Here is a PDF of the best ways to carry people depending on the situation and how conscious the injured person needs to be for the carrying position.

Literally a life saver.

(No pun intended.)

Constantly obsessed with the concept of a man forced to be a myth. What do you do when every step you take is embedded into the text. Every word you say prose to read. You're part of something bigger than yourself. The narrative tugs you along like water currents. There is no time to rest, to be human. You must be great, you must be legend

'The Milky Way' (detail) by Frida Hansen, (1855 - 1931).

There's a lot of pros to this, in my opinion:

Soup and blankets for me.

I have little magic at my disposal, therefore I am capable of less.

Pushing myself may result in even more magical exhaustion.

There are tried and tested things I can do to work through it or help prevent getting into this state, e.g. breathing, music, walking, finding a crystal cave or something.

Gives me permission, where possible, to temporarily expend less magic (take annual leave, ask for help with my tasks).

That's it, I'm reframing my anxiety, burnout and brainfog as magical exhaustion.

Illustrations done for the chapter "Gareth and Lynette" (that has a major Tennysonian influence but with the ending from Malory) in the 1909 book "The Children’s King Arthur: Stories from Tennyson and Malory" by an unknown author, published by Henry Frowde and Hodder & Stoughton [x].

I really appreciate that the Alliterative Morte Arthure is giving Kay a solid 45 lines to go full batshit mad scientist on his feast preparations, featuring

Peacocks, plovers, pork, porcupine, herons, swans, beef, wild boar, barnacle goose, young hawks in bread, cranes, curlews, rabbits

By my rough count, approximately eight different kinds of wine

On-fire blue stews ("wavy with azure sauce all over, they appeared to be flaming")

More fire: "pheasants adorned in flaming silver"

Poison-proof gold cups: ("So that if any poison should go secretly under them [in the cup],/The bright gold would burst all to pieces with anger,/Or else the poison should lose its power because of the virtue of the precious stones")