Mightybog - Your Local Bog/Otherworld

Allow me to offer you all merthur fanart… referenced from La belle dame sans merci, 1893 by John William Waterhouse… I love them so much

I need to do more merthur fanart soon 🫶

affection that held us together

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")

learning about plants in ur area is wild. like you also learn about the histories of the plants. Like oh! Thats garlic mustard! That was brought over from europe as a crop! it smells just like garlic and you can cook with it!  And thats yarrow!  Its been used for tons of stuff and pollinators love it! Oh hey! Thats hemlock! They killed Socrates with that! 

Gwen & Merlin | Teen & Up | No Archive Warnings Apply | Word Count: 500

Post-Canon | Ghosts | Grief & Mourning | Immortal Merlin

For @merlinmicrofic with the dialogue prompt "almost" and the @tavernfest Merlin Horror Month 2024

An elderly Gwen summons Merlin to Camelot on Samhain. Their old friends walk the Earth again for a night.

☾ ☾ ☾

She was sitting by the fire in the chambers she had once shared with her husband. The flames sputtered in the grate, attacked by the late autumn winds. Upon the hearth there were food offerings; it was Samhain, the eve of the night the dead woke from their sleep and roamed the Earth once again.

“Merlin,” Gwen called to him softly, her eyes shining and a little cloudy in the light, evidence of the cataracts laying claim to them. She stretched out her hand and he hobbled over with his staff and took it. It was soft, wrinkled, but strong. 

Gwen had received him earlier in the throne room but this, with the night blackening the windows, was when they could truly speak. 

He sat down groaningly beside her. Immediately, she leaned towards him in her chair and poked his knee. “I heard a rumour.” 

He leaned as well. “A rumour?” he croaked. 

“I’m told that you're not as you appear to be. That you…” she seemed to search for the words. “They say nature has not taken hold of you as it has me.” 

He opened his mouth but she stopped him.

“Let me see you as you really are... Please.” 

He changed, letting go of the glamour he had assumed. 

By the way she reached out, he knew she couldn’t help it. She cupped his unbearded face, swiped a thumb over his cheek like there was a tear there just as her own eyes filled. 

“It’s like…” she trailed off in wonder. 

“Seeing a ghost?” he guessed. 

“No,” she shook her head, retracting her hand. “No. I should know… I called you here because-” 

There was a knock at the door. 

She cleared her throat, emotion leaving her voice. “Come in.” 

A knight entered.

“Is it time?” she asked.

“Almost.” 

“Help an old woman up, Merlin?” 

They were on the ramparts of the outer walls, it had been a struggle to get up here, but Gwen, now bundled in Merlin’s cloak, had been singularly determined.

It was a full moon but the night was choked with mist. 

Merlin’s magic prickled, beyond the walls something had stepped back onto the mortal plane. 

He tried again to implore her to return to the palace. “Gwen, it's Samhain, we shouldn’t-” 

“Just… Watch.” 

He grimaced but did as his queen bid. 

A horse whinnied faintly, like the tail end of an echo. From the mist, three caped figures on horseback were given form. Ceremonial Camelot banners, washed grey by the night, waved silently in a non-existent wind above them. Their shape, their faces, tilted up, serene, their eyes on the queen – Merlin startled. “It’s-!”

“Gwaine… Lancelot… and Elyan,” she finished, her voice breaking more with each name. 

“But..? Gods, why-?”

“They came last year, and the year before that,” she said, breathing. She drew her borrowed cloak closer. “I know now. They're waiting for me.” 

In Avalon his friends would be together again. Death had never been kinder, and fate more gruel. 

Seline Burn (Swiss, 1995) - Untitled (2024)

arthurian gothic

there is scratching in the woods. they tell you it is the questing beast. you’ve never seen the questing beast. you don’t even know what it is.

a knight introduces himself. he is a cousin of gawain. you have never heard of him, but no one thinks anything of it.

there is something wrong with the lake. everyone whispers that there is something wrong with the lake. no one will say what.

everyone keeps telling you the queen is the most beautiful woman in the world, but you can’t get past her eyes. they are dead.

there are footsteps in the hall. there are always footsteps in the hall. there are not always people.

you have never seen the king. some say he is the man in velvet. some say he is a war hero. some say he is a sad old man. he is a roman, someone tells you. another one insists angrily that he is a knight. a third says he is gone.

no one sits in one of the chairs at the round table. you ask if you can sit down. a knight crosses himself.

you are on a horse. you can’t remember how long you’ve been riding. “where are we going?” you ask. “on a quest.” it is always a quest.

the queen is no longer the most beautiful woman in the world. there is another girl, under the pavilion in the forest. her eyes are black.

the red coat of arms on the back of a chair has been removed. there is a different coat of arms, now, and a new knight sits. no one remembers the old one.

castle carbonek is beautiful, they tell you, but be careful. you see a door cracked open. the light that streams through blinds you.

you are speaking with a woman who insists she is elaine, but you know better. elaine was a different woman yesterday. all the women are elaine.

you see a telescope in the castle. you are confused. you have never seen anything like it, but they insist it has been here since the time of the romans.

one of the knights is missing. you ask what has happened, but all anyone will tell you is that it was a fit of madness. he is back the next day.

there is blood on the rose bushes outside the queen’s window. they are trampled.

everyone wears black in may. you ask why everyone is wearing black. no one answers.

bat

Aberdeen Bestiary, England ca. 1200

Aberdeen University Library, MS 24, fol. 51v