Author’s note: I’m still trying to figure out how greying hair works. Uther’s mane will probably change a bit more. It’s fun, though. Anyway. Happy Valentines! All the wholesome. 😘
Disclaimer: Mildly NFW? In text only.
One of the advantages of being a knight as well as Crown Prince was that nobody questioned Arthur’s actions. Not when he walked around in formalwear, and not when he stepped out in his knight uniform. They all assumed that he was about to go out on patrol, or solve a dispute, or head towards the arena for training. The people in castle Camelot did not question it for even a second.
Heading for the tower ruins in the forest was almost too easy as a result.
It was the ideal place. Remote, but so close to Camelot that the ruin could easily be reached on foot. Protected. The surrounding woods had overtaken most of the structure after it was abandoned, and the two stone walls that remained flanked the center of the ruin in such a way that you couldn’t see the inside unless you walked directly in front of it.
It was perfect. Arthur and his men had spent many nights in here during their training, resting and listening to bad stories from Elyan.
As it turned out, the tower ruins were also perfect for something else.
“Is that for me?” Arthur smiled, looking down on Guinevere as she timidly held out the pastry to him. The maidservant gave him a shy nod.
“It smells delicious. Thank you, Guinevere.”
“You’re… you’re welcome,” she replied, looking away as her cheeks flushed pink for a second. The sight made Arthur’s smile widen.
“I have a gift for you, too.”
“A gift?” Guinevere replied, surprised. The Crown Prince turned away from her, fishing around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small package. It was no bigger than his palm. He carefully placed the gift in Guinevere’s hand.
“I like to carve in my free time,” he explained, scratching the back of his head as Guinevere looked down at the package. “It helps me relax. And we first met at the stables, so… I thought you might appreciate this.”
The maidservant blushed, timidly opening Arthur’s gift. What came out of the package was a small, delicate-looking figurine of a horse. The wood had been sanded down carefully and covered with a layer of varnish. The Crown Prince had improved considerably over the years. Arthur was proud of this one; it had cost him weeks to make, having to steal moments in between his growing pile of tasks to carve. The Crown Prince could feel a nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach as Guinevere looked down on the figurine. Then, her lips curled into a smile, and Arthur’s nerves instantly turned into relief.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
As she looked down at the figurine, Guinevere fell silent. The maidservant got a strange, faraway look on her face as her eyes clouded over. It made Arthur’s insides fall right back into nervousness. His eyes shot back and forth between her and Llamrei, who the figurine had been based on. For a moment, Arthur was in doubt. Then he straightened his shoulders, deciding to take a chance.
“So, I was thinking… would you like to learn how to ride?”
“W…what?” Guinevere stammered, her eyes shooting back up towards Arthur. The figurine in her hand was all but forgotten. The Crown Prince smiled at her in response.
“The horse. Llamrei. You didn’t know how to ride when we went to Scarborough, and I’ve seen you at the stables a number of times now. I figured you might like to learn. It’s a good skill to have.”
Guinevere broke eye contact, looking down hesitantly.
“Oh, I… I shouldn’t,” she muttered. “I’d love to, but… I don’t have anything to give back, milord.”
Arthur opened his mouth, about to tell her that she didn’t need to give him anything. That getting something in return was not what he was offering this for. But when he saw her expression, the Crown Prince stopped himself. Something in Guinevere’s eyes gave him pause. He had seen that look before, back in Scarborough. At the time, Arthur had ignored it, only to end up kicking himself when he realised that he had hurt her feelings. But what was it this time? The Crown Prince frowned. He remembered Gawain saying a similar thing to him, many years ago. He’d been even more baffled by it, then. But…
What was it, again…?
“I don’t really have anything to give in return. It still makes me feel bad, you know?”
At the time, Arthur hadn’t really understood it. But the Crown Prince had matured a lot since then. He had started to understand where Gawain had been coming from, along with a slew of other insights. As a result, Arthur could see Guinevere’s hesitance for what it was.
They were already unequal enough. Arthur did not need to go adding to that.
“Okay, in that case… can you show me how to make pastries?” the Crown Prince asked. Guinevere blinked, looking up at him in surprise.
“Yes,” Arthur nodded. “The sweet ones. I want to learn how to make jelly tarts. Or honey cakes. Or the one you just gave me.”
“But… you have servants for that,” Guinevere replied, confused. Arthur let out a displeased huff in response.
“Well, yes, but they won’t give me any. Sarah instructed them all not to feed me sugar outside of desserts and tea time and now none of them want to bring me anything. I keep having to take them off Morgana. You would not believe the kind of things she demands in return.”
“Wait… Sarah put you on a diet?” Guinevere replied, baffled. “And you’re trying to sidestep it?”
“Yes! I am, because it’s ridiculous,” Arthur huffed. “I am perfectly capable of controlling myself. I don’t need to watch my sugar intake. Not that she listens to that, mind you. It’s like trying to wrestle a shiny coin from a magpie. You’d think that being told by the Crown Prince to bring extra jelly tarts for breakfast would mean something around here, but noooo-”
His sourpuss expression was enough to finally break the ice. The maidservant giggled, quickly covering her mouth to stifle the sound. Her laugh only lasted for a short second. But the sound was like music to Arthur’s ears.
He liked her laugh. He wanted to hear it more.
Eventually, Guinevere looked back up at him.
“I can… show you some things,” she smiled, with an expression that was somehow shy and amused at the same time. “I’m not a good cook, but I’m pretty decent a-at baking.”
“Perfect,” Arthur grinned. “I’d really appreciate that. We’ll figure out how to find a place for it later. And in return, I’ll teach you how to handle Llamrei. What do you say? Does that sound agreeable?”
The Crown Prince tried to stay composed, but part of him was genuinely excited at the idea of learning how to bake. He had suggested it as a way for them to stay even, but the longer he thought about it, the better the idea actually started to sound.
Unlimited pastries. I should have thought of this ages ago.
It probably wouldn’t work out that way. But Arthur could still give it a try. If he cleared up enough time, Arthur could make himself all the sugary treats he wanted… and as a bonus, he’d get to spend time with Guinevere, too. It was perfect. The thought made him feel almost giddy.
And despite his efforts, it showed on his face. This time, Guinevere’s amusement was unmistakable. The girl let out a chuckle as she gave him a single, entertained nod.
Separate from the rest of Albion, the Isle of Mora lay enveloped by a vast body of water. Once, it had been a refuge for all those who knew magick. But a century of warfare had reduced most of its structures to nothing but rubble. Temples had been slowly reclaimed by nature. Persistent winds and rain had brought down what had once been magnificent towers. On most of the island, only traces of Mora’s past glory remained.
But even now, some creatures of magick still found sanctuary within.
Lincoln had been watching his partner for a while. She’d been entertaining him by dancing on top of the ritual circle – but the arrival of a letter in a familiar handwriting had sent her mood spiraling down. The Faun’s brow furrowed when he saw Morgause’s face slowly cloud over. A shadow crossed her expression. By the end of the scroll, the witch was all-out scowling.
“Bad news?” Lincoln asked, approaching Morgause as she let out a huff. She quickly stuffed the scroll into her pocket before crossing her arms in annoyance.
“No. It’s nothing important. Don’t worry about it.”
“Uh-huh,” the Faun nodded. “‘Nothing important’ had Gorlois’s handwriting on it. That didn’t look like nothing, Morgause.”
His partner didn’t answer. Lincoln watched as Morgause broke eye contact, her jaw clenched and her shoulders tensing up as she looked away.
“I said it’s nothing,” the witch snapped. “You’re the one who told me to think about it tomorrow, remember? That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Stubbornness was a trait that did not suit her well. But it was a part of her that would not fade away, no matter how many years she aged. It was also one area where Lincoln could not lose to her. The Faun mimicked her movements, crossing his arms in the exact same way as Morgause as his expression pulled into a disapproving frown.
“Tomorrow has passed, Morgause,” he replied. “Tomorrow is yesterday. You made a promise. You cannot ignore that forever.”
Morgause huffed at him in response. She leaned up against the pillar behind her, narrowing her eyes defiantly.
“Yes, I can. He never specified a date. I can keep pushing this ahead as long as I-”
But the Faun didn’t let her finish, cutting her off mid-sentence with a voice that was much sharper than normal.
“You would stay away from your father for months? Years?”
At that, Morgause faltered. Lincoln could see a flash of hesitation in her eyes. A brief moment of doubt, that she quickly covered up with an even bigger scowl.
“I’ve stayed away for months before. He knows what I’m like. He knows that I won’t be tied down.”
“Uh-huh. And what if he dies tomorrow?” Lincoln retorted sharply. “You humans are not immortal. And Gorlois is an old man. If he passes away before your debt is paid, then you will have broken your word. You’ll have betrayed him, Morgause.”
“That’s not… I don’t…”
This time, the witch could not cover up her feelings. Lincoln watched as her mask began to crack. The stubborn glimmer in her eyes faded, making way for an almost child-like doubt. The Faun could see the pain hiding underneath. Lincoln knew that his words had hurt. But he had to. In that moment, Morgause seemed to shrink, balling her fists in defiance as she hung her head.
“I don’t want to,” she muttered, the words stuck somewhere between a growl and a hopeless whisper. Lincoln placed an arm on her shoulder in response.
“I know,” he said, gently pressing his forehead against hers, “I know you want to run.”
“Then let me. Just for a bit longer.”
“Is that truly what you want? To escape?”
He could feel Morgause’s arm trail around his waist. The witch leaned into him, letting out a sigh as she settled against his chest. She had always fit his form perfectly. Lincoln watched as Morgause closed her eyes, an apologetic smile playing on her lips as she muttered:
“I want… to think about it tomorrow.”
Lincoln knew that she was hurting. The Faun could sense it. That darkness had started to fester inside of her again, lingering and growing as it was taken in from those around her. It always came back. No matter how many times he managed to drag it out of her. Twisting her up from the inside. She had somehow linked it to Gorlois. The Faun doubted if Morgause even realised what it was that she was really running away from.
But Lincoln knew. He had always known.
He would not allow it.
Lincoln could hear Morgause’s breath hitch in her throat as he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her against him. The Faun grounded himself, feeling the magick seep into him from below as he gazed deeply into her eyes. In a low, husky voice, he said:
“You could stop thinking.”
Morgause opened her mouth to respond, but the Faun didn’t let her. In a swift, fluent motion, he leaned forward and caught her in a kiss. Her surprised yelp quickly turned into soft sounds of pleasure as she leaned into the embrace. As he trailed his hands past her shoulders, he could feel her react to his touch. She had always been quick to jump on distractions.
Especially when that distraction was him.
“You don’t need to think,” he muttered into her ear, her skin shivering as his breath trailed past her neck. She didn’t resist when the Faun lifted her up and pushed her against the stone behind her.
She hadn’t noticed.
His hands began to dwell lower. The little noises slowly turned into moans. Morgause wrapped her arms around him, pulling the Faun close as she pressed her body against his. Lincoln could feel the energy slowly start to close around them.
“Come with me,” he whispered.
“Don’t think about anything. Just say yes, You won’t have to worry again. Just come with me—”
It was as if Morgause had been struck by a whip. In a swift, jerking motion, she pulled away from him, almost tripping over the nearest rock in her sudden effort to get away from his embrace. Lincoln only managed to stop her from hitting stone at the last second. But when he turned her around, what was displayed in her expression was not gratitude.
It was anger.
Lincoln blinked, looking at the woman in front of him in confusion. He didn’t understand. This would solve everything. Every problem that she had. Morgause would never have to experience negativity again. Lincoln refocused, attempting to try again- but Morgause placed a hand on his chest, gently but firmly pushing him away from her.
“I know. But you can’t keep me. You know that.”
He didn’t understand.
Lincoln deflated. She wouldn’t let him help her. Defeated, the Faun hung his head, looking at his love with an expression of confusion and hurt in his eyes.
“I love you,” Lincoln muttered. The hard lines in Morgause’s face immediately softened. She extended her arm towards him, gently grasping his hand between her fingers.
“I know,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”
“But you cannot love me the way the Fae do. Ever.”
Monoroe gasped, only barely managing to catch herself as her legs suddenly gave out from underneath her. Clumps of grass and dirt went flying through the air as her spear clattered to the ground. The sudden surge of spirit made her entire body tremble as all of the air was pushed out of her lungs.
She didn’t have to look behind her to know which creature was responsible.
The Huntress could sense it. The overwhelming amount of spirit that rapidly gathered inside of the nearest tree. Monoroe sun her weapon around, pointing it towards the large plant as she steeled herself for the worst.
She did not have to wait for long.
“Not a step closer,” Monoroe snarled. She turned sideways, raising the weapon until it pointed directly at the Dryad’s heart. Eurydice cocked her head curiously in response. Her eyes lingered on the steel-tipped point of the spear before trailing back to Monoroe as she raised a single eyebrow.
“You cannot kill me.”
“And you won’t kill me,” the Huntress replied. “Yet here we are. Again.”
“I have never hurt you-”
“Like hell you haven’t,” Monoroe growled, cutting her opponent off mid-sentence. With a suspicious glare, the Huntress narrowed her eyes at her.
“What do you want, Lesha?”
At the mention of her true name, Eurydice broke into a warm, gentle smile. The Dryad spread her arms wide, leaning in and inviting Monoroe in for a hug like a sundew spreading its leaves.
“I want my daughter by my side, where she belongs,” the Dryad sung. Eurydice took another step towards Monoroe, stepping through the grass without moving it as she beckoned the Huntress towards her.
“Ostara is nearly upon us. I want to celebrate with my family. It is time for you to come h-“
But the Huntress didn’t let her finish. For the second time in a row, Monoroe cut her mother off halfway through her sentence.
“Bugger off. I’m not going anywhere with you ever again.”
Monoroe took a step back, her knuckles turning white as the gripped the spear even tighter. She could feel a wave of anger overtake her as the memories of last Autumn welled up in her mind. The pain of being made to move against her will. The horror of what she’d been forced to do.
Monoroe remembered all of it.
“You made me almost kill Morgana.”
“I love you.”
“You don’t love me,” Monoroe snarled back in response. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
Eurydice cocked her head curiously. Her arms lowered back to her sides. The Fae took a step in Monoroe’s direction, a frown spreading across her face as the glowing butterflies began to fly towards her.
The Huntress reacted instantly. As soon as one reached her, she slashed at it without hesitation, cutting the tiny Fae in half. The wings immediately shrivelled up and fell to the ground. Eurydice let out a small sigh in response.
“Now that was just rude.”
“I don’t care,” the Huntress spoke in a low tone. “I don’t want to go with you. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.”
“I could make you.”
“Maybe,” Monoroe growled. “But you won’t get me without a fight. Not this time. You haven’t changed a bit, Lesha. If you actually cared, then you would have known better than to chase me all over the damn woods. That is not love. That is possessiveness.”
“I do care,” the Dryad smiled, slowly bridging the distance between them. “And they are the same thing.”
Monoroe let out an audible growl in response.
“They are not the same. I’ve learned that much. There is a difference – and whatever twisted desires you Fae have, it is not love.”
Her words were drenched with hostility as a wild rage shone out from behind her eyes. But the Dryad was unfazed by Monoroe’s aggression. Eurydice raised a single eyebrow, her smile morphing into a sinister grin.
“Oh?” she replied. “Do you not feel the same twisted desire towards that little witch of yours?”
Two-faced, carnivorous harpy.
“Shut up,” Monoroe snapped, raising her spear. “I would never shackle someone. Unlike you.”
This time, Monoroe’s words had a visible effect. The greenish glow around Eurydice flared up as her eyes flashed ominously. The moss on her legs darkened in colour as her nails morphed into long, wooden claws. In a low voice, the Dryad asked:
“Because you are human?”
“Because I’m not a monster.”
The Jacoban priest had not seen that reaction in over sixteen years.
Slowly, Agravaine approached his King. He stopped a few feet away from Uther, folding his arms behind him as he looked out the window.
“…Agravaine. What is it?”
The Jacoban priest chose his words carefully.
“Sire… you know that I am your loyal servant. I’ve stood by your side for almost two decades. I pride myself on having your best interests at heart, always.”
Agravaine knew how explosive Uther’s temper could be. He also knew that he could not overlook what he just witnessed. Not this time. When Agravaine opened his mouth, the adviser’s tone was drenched with caution.
“Uther… that is not Ygraine. You know that, right?”
The Jacoban priest could feel the temperature in the room drop to an icy, uncomfortable chill. Uther glanced over towards him from the corner of his eye; a cold, piercing stare that went right through him and chilled him to the core.
Eventually, Uther spoke.
“You’re right, Agravaine. You’ve served me loyally for many years.”
“If you speak of this again, I will have you dismembered. Slowly.”
“Yes, sire. Forgive me.”
“Go make yourself useful and prepare a scouting report. I want an update on my desk in thirty minutes.”
“Watcher help me.”
14 thoughts on “3.30 – Attachment”
*insert ‘I want to hug Gwen’ comment here*
Him giving her a carving was so sweet because if I remember correctly, one of the very early chapters involved the discussion about a carving being more special than a bought gift, because he’d made it and it was made from the heart, which makes this all the more special.
“So, I was thinking… would you like to learn how to ride?” Steady on Arthur, this is technically your first date!- Oh, wait, you mean the horses 😂😂 Just kidding. I like that they get to bond like this in private with no worries about what they look like to others.
Also Arthur wanting to learn how to make pastries, I think a lot of that not only comes from him learning as he is growing up and not being like his father, but also how his friendship with Gawain has made him less like a noble and more like the people he technically rules over. It’s made him see what life is like in someone else’s shoes. He wants to learn how to make and do things and not just let servants do everything for him and that’s come up a few times, I really like that about his character.
Admittedly my memory is hazy surrounding Lincoln and Morgause since I’ve been trying to remember all that is happening with the nobles, but Eurydice looks so cool. Perfect combo of beautiful and terrifying. I can’t remember if this was revealed before or not, but so now we know what had come over Monoroe back then… I like the stark contrast between Fae here, between the loving and sometimes more humanlike Lincoln and the more typical Fae in Eurydice, the playing with words, beating around the bush, unclear morals. Monoroe is doing well to stand her ground but a war of words between a human and a Fae, it’s unlikely Monoroe would win. Even if she can hold herself well physically in a fight, if things got violent I doubt she’d survive either X_X
Oh yay, another fun hurdle with Uther most likely being the ‘NO DAUGHTER OF MINE-‘ type dad. Next chapter is going to be back to high drama I feel X_X
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You can never have enough hugs!
Yup, you’re right! Arthur really took that lesson to heart. I don’t show it in the story often because there’s more important things to focus on, but he carves a lot in his free time. If I left him on autonomy, carving things and baking sweets would be all he ever does.
What, you wouldn’t want to learn how to ride on a first date? 😏🤣🙈
What Arthur learned in his childhood is steering his actions now, just like how what he learns now will steer his behaviour as an adult. I like writing slow character development and having people gradually change over time. I’ve slipped up a couple of times but in Arthur’s case, I think it’s gone well so far 😊
Haha, I’m already amazed that you guys remember so much of it all to begin with. What was going on with Monoroe wasn’t revealed outright before, but it was hinted at. There’s only one more puzzle piece missing before her entire story becomes clear. That one won’t take too long to appear either.
High drama? Me? Naaaahhhhh. What are you talking about 😇 Nothing but wholesome from here on out! Yup. Wholesome. Yuppety.
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“Nobody questioned Arthur in formalwear… knight uniform…” or horse costume? Yep, that’s some get-up there, Arthur. Did you let Guin wear the head? I’m imagining them imagining the pair of them sneaking out of the town in that thing now. Would they have sewn a costume or just ‘emptied’ an oss? What even am I on about. Moving on.
“…would you like to learn how to ride?” I’m sure she would, but you’ve barely looked at her yet, should probably learn her favourite colour and if she likes METAL music, first. Aw, is she disappointed that he meant the horse?
“It’s like trying to wrestle a shiny coin from a magpie.” Or a gold coin from a tiny dragon. I’d recommend a feather, but magpies already have feathers. Are magpies ticklish? Regardless, this whole exchange is incredibly sweet and wholesome. Can’t wait to see Arthur trying to bake. 😆
“Come with me.” 🥵 Woah, the dude sure is trigger-happy. Oh, he meant… ohhh.
Her daughter? Ick. Yeah I’m with you, Monorail; bugger off (let’s try this in autocorrect) Eurovision. Possessiveness is not love; there are a few others who could do with learning that. YAY! Monorail got the hots for a ‘little witch’ huh? Please be Morrie, please be Morrie. * rams Monogana hat firmly back on *
Ugh, I’m surprised Ygraine ever went anywhere near you in the first place, Uther you miserable, shrivelled fuck.
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Bwahaha I don’t think I can pose them in a horse costume, sneaking out together under the confused eye of Aggro, but I really want to try it now, anyway 🤣
All attraction will fade the moment he realises she’s not into METAL but cheery love pop songs, obviously. Can’t have that in the castle. Ick. No non-metal lovers allowed.
You’re quite experienced with tickling things out of dragons now. Whether tickling with a feather works on Sarah (and whether that will lead to the result Arthur is going for 😂) is yet to be determined. Yay! Did the wholesome again! I’m learning!
You’re the second one that read it like that 🤣 hindsight. Lol.
Eurovision HAHAHAHA 😂 oh, that made me laugh. So many people would be helped by learning the difference between infatuation, lust, love and possessiveness. Does Sage offer an extended flipchart for this? If so, my lot might need some supplementary lessons from our green witch-in-the-future.
Aaaand now I wonder what your Monogana hat looks like.
Sorry that this is going to be an incredibly short comment. I love the contrast of love in each of the 4 stories. Arthur & Guin share such a sweet and innocent friendship-romance, The Faun & Morgause … daaaaaamn I think she was waiting for that kiss the way she melted. Her sudden change, & mention of the Fae has me curious. … I’ll try to comment more at a later time 👏🏻
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No worries, comments are great whether they’re long or short! In my opinion anyway 😁 Making this chapter and showing the contrasts was an interesting excercise. Morgause is already running from one responsibility and drowning in Lincoln is a great way to distract herself. Doing that with Lincoln comes with its own risks, though – the Fae have been a staple in my story since the beginning, and all of them are dangerous in their own ways.
Have a good day/evening/night! 😄
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I was excited to read about Eurydice. I love how she embodies the capriciousness of the Greek gods. She’s incredible looking in the photos and I love that Monoroe is a badass warrior. The typical mother-daughter love is not what Monoroe gets from her mother, but considering that Eurydice is not human, it makes sense that the “love” she has for Monoroe is self-serving.
Since I’m new to your stories, I’m not sure who Ygraine is yet, but seeing the couple reminded the King of Ygraine, and looks as though she was a love of his that he lost.
This may be bazaar of me to say, but I’m intrigued that the King would dismember his servant if he brings up (the past) again. Oh man. The King does NOT mess about with words lol.
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Eurydice is one of my favourite Fae to portray. She’s as dangerous as she is affectionate (even without her monster form) and although she wants to trap her daughter in a proverbial tower, Monoroe is definitely not a damsel in distress. Their relationship will be put into perspective a little bit more later.
Ah, I’ll tell you! Ygraine is Uther’s late wife and Arthur and Morgana’s mother in the story. The guy that he’s talking to in the chapter in the Jacoban robes is Ygraine’s brother. Uther threatened to dismember not just his servant, but his brother-in-law. He does not mess around with words at all, no 😆😐
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Ok my first thought… I’ll probably just tell you over whatsapp, lol.
I like that Arthur realises the importance of having him and Gwen be equals in the relationship. Good on Gawain for gently guiding Arthur over creating balance in unbalanced situations over the years.
So I know we talked about Lincoln acting different to other fae in the past, but in here, he was slipping back to his fae nature? So… does he force himself to try to think and feel like a human for Morgause? If so, he must really love her. I wonder what would happen if Morgause gave in. Would the fae steal her spirit? Also, I wonder what her promise to Gorlois was. And if it has something to do with the troops not arriving in Camelot yet.
Monoroe and Eurydyce could have this standoff forever. I wonder how long Monoroe will stay in this loop for – after all, Eurydyce has far more time than her.
Uther continues to be a delight. Woo. *grumbles*
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Gawain has shaped Arthur more than either of them realises. Just as well, too, when you have Uther and Aggro to balance out.
Her promise to Gorlois was a nasty one – if he helped her, she’d do anything in return.
Oof, Eurydice literally has infinity, yes. Unless they burn the entire forest down. But that’s a bit of a tall order just to stop adoptive-mum from being overly clingy… from the Fae’s perspective, at least.
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I like how you arranged the segments here, particularly Gorlois-Lincoln-Morgause and Eurydice-Monoroe-Monoroe’s witch (sorry, not 100% sure who this witch is yet). Everyone is flaunting their different concepts of love from Guinevere to Uther. I’m curious, though, is it Arthur or Uther who has put Arthur on a diet because it’s not Sarah unless she’s somehow a goddess or queen? It seems like Arthur is just blaming Sarah because it’s convenient.
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Sorry — I’ve messed up my comment somehow. I love how you arranged this chapter. It covers so many characters and some of the storytelling is even done primarily through images, but there seems to be a theme that connects everything and I love it, especially given that some of the pictures are so atmospheric and beautiful. 🙂
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No worries! WordPress has been acting strange lately. Aw, thank you so much 🥰 that means a lot; I worked very hard on this chapter. This chapter’s theme in particular is very significant to the entire story, so I wanted to do it justice. 😊
Different types of love and attachment have always been interesting to me, as well as what someone considers to be “love” versus “attachment”. Healthy or otherwise. It’s fun to explore.
Sarah as a goddess. That’s an interesting thought. Normally Sarah would not be able to dictate Arthur’s diet as a lowly maid-and kitchen servant. But for reasons that aren’t clear in the story yet, Sarah has a ridiculous amount of influence over the castle. She can get away with much more than other servants would and has blatantly gone against the royal family’s wishes before without consequence. She’s a unique one.
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