#nobilitydefined

Alone. Once again Arthur Pendragon stood alone among his fallen men. He turned slowly. Another battlefield full of people who’d died for the dream of kingdom that seemed impossible as each day passed and another enemy rose up to take the place of the last. The stifled the sob that wanted to burst from within. There was work to do.

He marked the site, the terrain difficult and deep within the forest. It would take days to return all of them home, but he would lead the groups each day until it was done.

When the king finished, covered in earth and the war, he finally headed back toward camp. His sword heavy at his side. The weight of everything seeping in with the ever growing worry of who he would find once he returned. Breathing deeply, he focused on one boot moving then the next. Until he saw movement behind one of the trees ahead. A familiar brush of blue across a red tunic.

His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the battlefield. It was vast and the smoke surrounding the area made it so hard to see. Through the mist, a figure moved slowly. After the vapors dissipated around the person, he saw it was Arthur. His limbs froze. Was he hurt? He wanted to run to him, his feet didn’t move at first. After he got over himself, he rushed over to the king. It took him a minute to get moving, but eventually he got there. Standing there before him, he did something the other normally would have scowled at or protested. Throwing his arms around the royal. Merlin held him close.

“I thought we lost you.”

He spoke his fear as he squeezed his eyes shut. The nearness of the blonde was comforting. If he pushed him away, he wouldn’t have been surprised. The warlock had enough heartbreaks. Losing Freya had taken a toll on his heart. If Arthur died, he would have lost that part of him. “Are you hurt?” Asking as he straightened out, he could see the weariness. It was a long battle, and he was probably tired. “Let’s get you back to the tent... Arthur.”

     Merlin didn’t know when Arthur would return, he just hoped it would be soon. Why? Not because of a food shortage, a war or a famine. But because Mordred was back. Mordred had returned during what people were calling it the Victorian Era, due to Queen Victoria whom Merlin had only met once. And she was lovely, but that wasn’t the point. Mordred from the medieval ages had returned and he was causing havoc among the magical folk. And that havoc was causing the normal human people to question what was going on and soon, very soon, there might be a war on both sides and that was not something Merlin thought the world could handle right now.

     “Please,” Merlin called out to the Lake of Avalon. “Please bring him back. Albion needs him.”

     He always came back here. It had been hundreds of years already and he always returned. There had been one point in his life where he’d lived there and the cabin in the woods spoke for itself, but he’d gotten lonely and he joined the world again. This time though, he would stay until Arthur returned. Because if Mordred was back then surely the man who would be able to stop him would return, wouldn’t he? He stared out at the water, hoping for any sign of life. Of human life.

     It had been so long. Maybe what he had been told wasn’t true. He had failed his destiny, after all.

     Just as he was considering turning back, the water began to bubbled and Merlin stepped forward, getting his trousers and shoes wet. Right now he didn’t care, not when he had hope again. Could it be that Arthur was rising to greet him? Because he knew that the Sidhe did not rise like this.

     And then he saw a hand. A very familiar hand floated above the water.

“Arthur!”

     Wading through the water, Merlin hurried forward as fast as he could in his Victorian Era clothes. He really should have taken them off, but he wasn’t sure if Arthur was alert, surely not for him to have seen a hand.

     “I’ve got you!”

     Merlin pulled Arthur to him and swam them both to shore. Why the Sidhe released him unconscious he didn’t know, but at least Arthur was back.

Unless it was a dream.

this is so interesting! thank you! Sorry it took me too long to answer. I wanted to have the time to properly analyze it cause it looks fun.

this looks like a double headed phoenix to me (which makes sense since, as you said, he's supposed to be Arthur's nephew), but from what's written underneath (I don't think it's the family motto? My French is terrible, but this sounds like a description of the crest, so I'm taking it as that. Please correct me if I'm wrong). I recognize the word eagle, so searching for double headed eagles, I found out that it was used by the Byzantine Empire, whose use of it represented the Empire's dominion over the Near East and the West. Although they're not the first to use it. It's a widely used symbol historically, used by a lot of civilizations from Mycenaean Greece to Al-Andalus.

The yellow is supposed to be gold, it represents wisdom, generosity, glory, constancy, and faith. As for the pink background, I think it's supposed to be red? If so, it symbolizes magnanimity, military strength, and martyrdom, but going back to the description, I can also see the word purple, so in case it is, purple symbolizes royal majesty and justice.

@nobilitydefined​ 

If you are wondering where your Gwaine x Arthur bantership board is then I’m afraid you will have to wait a little longer. 

It is compulsory to write at least 5000 words in the verse before you get special treats. 

Now get writing! 

It isn’t everyday that Merlin needed help when it came to Arthur - except for when he went out on his dangerous expeditions. This was one of those times and while he wanted to prove to his father and the Kingdom that he could be a courageous, trustworthy king, Merlin refused to let the Prince go on his expeditions alone. 

Which is why when he came across his seventh (maybe) tavern, he hoped this would be the one. The one person Merlin could count on was Gwaine. No questions asked, he was always at his side - and that is something Merlin appreciated about Gwaine. Perhaps he could convince him to become a knight by the end of the day -- that is if he found the man. 

Upon entering the loud ruckus he heard from the patrons was a confirmation that Gwaine was here alright. Stirring trouble? Making friends? He didn’t know which it would be but he looked around to tavern to see if he could find the familiar face. It wasn’t hard when one body came tumbling towards patrons and as soon as they moved, the goon had hit the tables falling to the floor. Merlin stepping aside just so he wouldn’t be trampled by him. 

@nobilitydefined @thelegendofemrys​

Touchdown in Madrid, capital city of Spain. Arthur and the Knights of Albion have reached the second leg of their European tour. Much has happened in the cities east of Paris. The band have played record-selling concerts in Rome, Prague and Amsterdam, amongst others. Their path ahead lay now towards the west. After the European tour has ended, the band has been reliably informed that they would conquer the States next.

Arthur pulls on a pair of Ray-Ban aviators as the door of the small plane specially chartered for him and his bandmates, is opened. Outside and already waiting on the airport platform to greet them are dozens of fans and reporters. The affinity with which the newspapers, TV stations and internet coverage reported on every movement of the band is truly remarkable. Unfortunately, such attention to detail was allowing a host of more unfriendly eyes watching Arthur and his knights in the shadows to plan their attack. 

All they needed was the perfect moment to strike...

Of course, such brewing trouble is hardly something that concerns the young rock star. As Arthur gazes out to observe the layout of the land, a new country to explore and conquer, he stiffens only slightly as his drummer joins his side.

“You finally stopped being sick from the re-entry turbulence, Gwaine?” 

The feckless knight really is a sight for sore eyes. But Arthur won’t forget how the drummer had been teasing him with the others for joining Morgana in the private cabin up front for most of the flight. The guitarist hums dryly under his breath. 

“I’m sure the fresh air will perk you up. Here, hold my luggage. After me.”

Pushing his bags into Gwaine’s chest and enjoying the slight ‘oof’ that the action elicits, the rock star proceeds to walk down the steps from the plane door onto asphalt. The crowds roar at his approach, and Arthur grins and waves a hand to greet them in return.

The rock group are escorted by limousine to their waiting hotel. Having arrived with barely enough time to prepare a stage for a concert, the Madrid gig has been scheduled for the following evening. Which meant the band have time to relax and chill in the grand suite of one of the largest rooms in the Westin Palace. The large and expensive hotel is set out over six floors, with a stunning open lobby under a large glass dome. 

Leaving the tour crew to check in their bags, Arthur and his bandmates take a wander around their luxury accommodation for the night; taking in the game room, the sparkling swimming pools, the saunas, the gym, the restaurants, the bars, the little cinema and even an onsite beauty salon and hairdresser. 

Merlin isn’t with them.

The wandering roadie has had competing priorities. Conversations with Arthur after he’d revealed his magic to the rock star in Amsterdam, swiftly led to the warlock striking out to learn and study more. So the mysterious recluse had left on his quest to find the right books, the right knowledge to finally treat Arthur’s soul problem. 

In reality, he is being played for time. Forces more malevolent than before were afoot. The warlock had been observed in Paris and schemes were unfolding to ensure his extended removal from the situation about to unfold. In order for Arthur and his knights to be eliminated, it had been determined that distancing the wizard from the mortal musicians in his care provided a window of opportunity to carry out their foul purpose. Arthur sending out his warlock to find a cure had been an opportunity almost too good to be true; since it became the perfect distraction to occupy the time of Emrys. 

That book chase was going to be strung out. 

And now, with the wizard out of the picture, efforts to subdue and capture Arthur and his Knights could go ahead. The goddess was still left waiting for the blood of the Pendragon. Mixed with that of his knightly brotherhood, the resultant elixir would only make the gruesome enchantments to raise beasts that heralded the end-times that much more powerful.

***

“Where’s Adrien?” Elyan eventually asks of Arthur, as the group settle down and prepare to head off into separate rooms to sleep.

Arthur shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. He said he had to go and catch up with ‘his studies’ whatever that means. I’m sure he’ll be back with us sometime tomorrow.”

Clapping the shoulder of his backing vocalist, Arthur smiles warmly at Gwen’s brother. “It was nice, by the way, for you to invite your sister to meet us in Amsterdam. We spent a wonderful afternoon together in the café she always favoured.”

Saying ‘thank you’ directly still appears to be a tricky thing for the modern Arthur to say, but he says it nevertheless, in a roundabout way. Elyan smiles warmly in response and tells his band leader to think little of it: all of them were willing to die to make this tour a success for Arthur and his music. The guitarist finds himself strangely touched. 

For it has been hard, continually having to hold himself together - the splintering of his mind seemed to be kept in check only by Merlin’s comforting presence and up until recently; that strange, yet treasured little bracelet he gave the rock star while on tour. 

Unfortunately, Morgana had destroyed the carnelian amulet in a fit of jealous rage in an altercation right before the flight to Spain. 

Arthur sighs. Conversations with both his publicist and his roadie over the last few days have led to some disturbing revelations; ones that make the guitarist truly question his place in this world. Could he really be the famous Arthur Pendragon from legend? But how? It still seemed faintly ludicrous. Arthur had not shared any of this with the rest of his bandmates, of course -- knowing that they would only think he is completely off his rocker.

Merlin’s magic remains a secret too. That would be the roadie’s choice when to reveal his powers to the others. 

Arthur will not break confidence in a friend. Not ever.

As midnight approaches, the bandmates eventually appear to settle down for the night. Percival and Elyan take one room, while Arthur, Gwaine and Leon take another. Snoring inevitably fills the air. Arthur scowls. 

For some reason, he is unable to sleep. 

Rolling his eyes, the brunet tries turning over in his single bed. Leon and Gwaine are fast asleep in their own beds, tucked under the heavy satin quilts, nearby. Gwaine appears to have his mouth open, drooling slightly. The rock star sighs. 

Hello friends. Thanks for the follow. Please find attached your greeter post.

@shadow-king-club @jeda1​ @nobilitydefined @ladies-of-time @apieceofurmind @rin-link @fuckyeahsnackables @grandmoments

One of you, I would quite like to RP with soon. The rest? Let me know if you would like to write together and what your ideas are. I like to discuss ideas before threading, it makes the creative process more enjoyable :)

Also, please take the time to read the RULES and familiarise yourself with the VERSES

@nobilitydefined

Every once in a while something will be said by one of his colleagues that Merlin chocks up to strange jokes or slang said by the youth of the current generation, phrases and terms that are rather alien in their meaning to a man from the fifth century. Perhaps the alcohol actually managed to affect his concentration and perception, it was either that or Kendrick had said one of those new young people phrases and the sorcerer couldn’t make heads or tails as to what it meant.