#morien
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The next Arthurian knight that refutes the misconception that every character in the Arthurian mythos had to be British or otherwise exclusively Western European.
Morien was a Knight of the Round Table whose life was narrated in the 13th century Arthurian poem “Moriaen,” written in the Middle Dutch. His father was the knight Aglovale, and his mother—a princess from a “Moorish” land. Just like the common imagery of Arthur’s court doesn’t have a strictly defined era or cultural affiliation (you’ll see hundreds of paintings of 6th century British knights wearing 17th century French armour), this image represents Morien as more of a legendary figure, combining regionally accurate elements in a bit of an anachronistic fashion. One of the first cultures to be referred to as Moors by the European Christians were the Maghrebine Berber people, giving some context to which region Morien's mother could be from. Amazigh-style weapons served as a basis for his weapons, while Tuareg dyeing techniques the design of his clothing. The description of his “Moorish” clothes and his armour as black as a raven reminds me of the beautiful indigo fabrics of the Tuareg people, which can appear to shine like raven feathers. His sword is barely visible, but it is based on the flyssa, an Amazigh traditional sword. He also holds an adarga, the Amazigh leather shield, which was actually so good at—well, being a shield—that it was adopted by many cultures of Europe because of its efficacy.
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What would you say are the main "themes" or "tropes" for every route? (poly routes too, if possible)
Arthur: arranged marriage (duh), extreme devotion (on both sides), destined love
Evaine: pining (mutual or one sided at first - by Evaine), healing from past relationships (Evaine), dealing with rumors (about Evaine, about MC, about both)
Yniol: slow burn, mutual protectiveness,
Morien: annoyances (affectionate) to lovers, strangers to lovers, recovery
Gwyar: forced proximity, confidant to lover, partners in crime
POLYS
Arthur/Gwyar: power dynamics (you know who has the most power - gwyar), power throuple
Arthur/Evaine: fluff and comfort, found family, gossip (both done by the poly, and done to the poly)
Yniol/Morien: healing from trauma, slow burn, taking care of each other, pining
Morien/Gwyar: 2 menaces and 1 cinnamon roll (roles are not fixed), heated arguments (with happy endings)
#i will likely make edits#but those things are off the top of my head#ask#arthur#gwyar#morien#yniol#evaine#ros#poly routes#arthur/evaine#arthur/gwyar#morien/yniol#gwyar/morien
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Gawain is so happy to see his horse again that he feels better from his battle wounds and his horse is so happy it friend-bites him.
This is adorable.
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Morien is literally a young teen looking for his father and eager to prove himself but instead of meeting good influences he meets Lancelot and Gawain so he goes back home and kills fifteen people
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Sir Morien! An arthurian black (moorish) knight who has a whole romance about him! Son of Sir Agrovale, nephew of Sir Percival, he’s described as extremely strong, having the capability to deliver mighty blows and catch spears midflight and snap them like reeds. He further proves his strength by almost defeating Lancelot in combat. Despite the knights being fearful of his dark skin, he smiles brightly constantly despite all the hardships he’s been through. He spends the story looking for his father Agrovale so he can drag his loser ass back to his mum so they can get properly married.
(if you want to read the story, here’s a link) https://www.gutenberg.org/files/8447/8447-h/8447-h.htm
(Sir Morien, sketch done by my friend and painted by me) the headpiece is based off of saint Maurice's
(Saint Erasmus and Saint Maurice, oil on wood painting, artist Matthias Grünewald)
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#arthuriana#arthurian legend#gawain#lancelot#lamorak#tristan#galahad#Percival#morien#poll#arthurian mythology
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A little crossover between Sage & Morien (from @the-kingshound ) because I couldn't resist <3
They observed the physician for a while, now. Blended into the background, away from prying eyes, they slowly got to know them. Learned how they breathe, how their expression changes, and how their gaze becomes hollow when the painful memories start to crawl back onto the surface of their mind.
They felt a string of familiarity—understanding—between themself and Morien. The need to be burned alive, inside out, the crushing weight of the sins on their shoulders, and the ghosts bleeding from the past into the present.
They revealed themself, of course. ‘Sage’ is the name they gave to Morien; Sage from Nowhere, subordinate of No One, a shadow with no history.
Slowly, a relationship formed. A peculiar one, based on quick-witted banter; every conversation between them was a dance around double-meanings and carefully chosen words, with occasional boldness from Morien.
Sage found themself addicted to this, very quickly.
“There are more creative ways to self-destruct, I’m sure you’re aware,” their voice echoed in the chambers, sweet like honey. “Alcohol is the most boring of all, truly. You could be more creative,” they note, looking down at the drinking physician.
They did not judge, of course. They never did, despite the evidence to the contrary. Hell knows Sage made worse decisions, that would warrant disappointed glares and judgemental stares.
Morien didn’t seem too keen on Sage’s company, however. Granted, they were drinking. It was hard to take anything they’ve said to heart.
“You are worse than the castle rats, coming back in the worst moments to bite my ankles.” Sage chuckled at that. The vast majority of people feared them. They felt the primal urge to run away from Sage, like a mouse eyed by a hungry snake. Not Morien, though. Sage didn’t know if it’s a sign of bravery, stupidity, or both.
Or perhaps, they did not care. Perhaps danger felt more comfortable than peace—maybe the familiarity of it was a refreshing change for them.
Sage tilted their head. “Ah, but if I stopped coming back, would you not miss me?” Their lips curled into a smile. There was a note of danger behind it, so subtle most people wouldn’t notice it.
Morien laughed, surprising them once again. “I would. It’s what scares me. I’m becoming dependant on your visits.” Sage’s heart shudders in their chest—something they have not felt in a long time. It was invigorating to feel such power, to have someone admit that they have it. It was a drug like no other.
Then again, did were they not the same? Longing for the next conversation with the King’s physician, the subtle intimacy between them as Sage fixed Morien’s collar, moved a stray, auburn hair from their face. Morien made them weak and starved for something so mundane—it was terrifying and exciting at the same time.
Sage moved towards Morien like a cat, light on their feet, the phantom pain buried underneath the avalanche of emotions that fought inside them.
Keeping their face mere inches away from Morien’s, their piercing gaze studied the smallest details of the physician’s expression.
“You make the worst choices, my dear songbird,” they purred, “I think I might keep you.”
#ro: sage#if crossover#the king's hound#other ifs#interactive fiction#morien#the king's hound if#drabble
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Watch "QUICK'E | BabyboyAV x Victony x Yarden Type Beat | 2023" on YouTube
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#davekizzle#youtube#beats#afrobeats#artists on tumblr#burna boy#wizkidnews#wizkid#afro#flgang#babyboyav#tems baby#badgalriri#boj#victony#yarden#morien
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The story of Morien and also The Hart with the White Foot (because they have the same plot for a bit) adapted to fit the Squire's Tales universe and told from Terence's POV (mostly). For those of you who haven't read either text, Lancelot goes missing on a quest and Gawain and Terence set out to find him. Along the way, they meet a young Moorish knight with a quest of his own, and agree to help him. It takes place between Quest of the Fair Unknown and The Squire's Quest, and is mostly cannon compliant.
I low key told @peregrin-tookish I would write this at least two years ago and just got around to it, so I hope everyone is still interested!
#The Squire's Tales#arthuriana#Terence#Gawain#Morien#Lancelot#lancelot and the hart with the white foot#gerald morris
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Welcome back, friend
@shellysaurus-rex
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Dj Buka – American Wonder Ft Morien
Dj Buka – American Wonder Ft Morien
Dj Buka – American Wonder Ft Morien Mp3 Download.
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For his thronging fans, Nigerian alternative serial hit-maker, Dj Buka discharges another brand-new song titled “American Wonder.” It is his third single to be released this year.
The…
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Someone carving/making the first ever dog whistle for mute mc
It's Morien. Morien made it.
Or, if MC showed the doggos to their family, Adrei may have done it for her little sibling
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Reading Morien and apparently Percival is just going around the country pwning unworthy knights and sending them to Arthur all beaten and bloody? Like a cat leaving half-dead birds on your doorstep. I love this guy
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Face Model: Morien from The King's Hound
My take of Male Morien from Interactive Fiction called "The King's Hound" by @the-kingshound @kal-down.
The unscarred version of M!Morien, with his hair loose.
From the first chapter alone, I imagine him to be someone whose default expression is set on scowling. The scars he has surely enhance the "if-looks-could-kill-you'd-be-dying-in-agony" face I imagine him to frequently make toward visitors of his ward.
@kal-down The author has likened him to a feral, grumpy cat before, and honestly that is where my inspiration came from :")
(I am so torn apart between playing a stubborn, unflinching MC and an obedient, clueless-kitten-for-personality MC against this brooding doctor.)
(Now, admission into the Moldien cult, please?)
#face model#edit#face#potrait#the king's hound#ro#interactive fiction#interactive story#tkh#wavy hair#tkh fanart#face edit#morien#tkh morien#auburn#red hair#red head#green eyes
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#arthurian legend#arthuriana#arthurian mythology#arthurian characters#tag game#king arthur#queen guinevere#lancelot du lac#knights of the round table#sir gawain#sir mordred#sir kay#sir percival#sir bedivere#sir yvain#orkney brothers#agravaine#sir gareth#sir gaheris#galahad#forgot about golden boy for a sec oops#morgan le fay#ragnelle#lynette#lynette and lyonesse#sir morien#sagramore#sir palamedes#lady of the lake#king pellinore
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The castle’s infirmary is quiet today.
The main physician sits at their desk, scribbling away some new kind of prescription, while the royal consort sits in a nearby chair, tongue stuck out in concentration. They hold a notebook up on their curled-up knees, reaching for a green pigment to add to their drawing. They’d come to help Morien organize some deliveries, but now that that was done, they’d taken to absentmindedly doodling in the quiet.
Eventually, Cuáine deems the drawing finished and gets up, sidling over to the physician’s desk.
"Look, it's you." Cuáine slides over the piece of paper with a small, teasing smile.
On the paper scrap is a doodle- almost childish, with how cartoony it is- of a seal with big green eyes staring up at Morien from the paper. The whiskers framing the eyes are overexaggerated to give it a little grumpy face- as grumpy as a cartoon seal can be, at least, and one flipper lies over a long, rounded cane with a green ribbon around it.
Morien blinks.
"...You drew me. As a seal." They state, deadpan. Their eyes drift over to Cuáine's expectant face, expression unnervingly blank.
Cuáine nods. Then, as the seconds tick on, they suddenly remember where and who they are.
They are no longer the laughing child on the coast of Venegard’s territory, pointing out seals playing on the rocky shore to their older brother. Their eyes no longer carry the bright-eyed brilliance they had been named after, the one that would make their parents ruffle their hair when presented with silly doodles.
Times had changed- those happy moments were undermined by the much clearer memories of when Cuáine had tried to talk to their parents or show them a pretty rock found down at the shore, only to be waved off for another time that never came. Osia called it stupid, really- low effort, not worth calling a ‘gift’ when a 5 year old could make something better.
Maybe a child could, but the intent had been pure- now, Cuáine just stares down at their silly scrap of paper with a sour taste in their mouth. This probably seemed stupid to Morien too.
"...Nevermind. If you think it's stupid, you can tell me." Their hand moves towards the scrap of paper on the physician's desk, fingers shaking slightly. "It's just supposed to-"
"No, no, it's-" Morien waves them off, and Cuáine's hand falls away. "-not. I was just... surprised. Doesn't seem very 'nobleborn battlemage' of you to do." They grumble, seeming almost defensive now as Cuáine lingers awkwardly by the side of their desk.
Cuáine hesitates, then says, "Well, I'm not many of the things I should be." They seem to think for a moment, then sidle closer, half-sitting on the edge of Morien's desk. They wait, taking the physician's half-glare as a sign to get off, but Morien doesn't say anything. So they relax, still being careful to put most of their weight on their ground foot.
Morien continues to write something down in their notebook, and Cuáine hums, going to twist their armlet.
“...I wasn’t aware you liked seals so much.”
Morien’s comment is quiet, and Cuáine would have almost missed it if it weren’t for the heavy silence blanketing the infirmary. For a moment, the royal consort blinks, unsure how to respond.
…They actually want to talk to me?
A small smile tugs at their lips, one of their ringed fingers tapping against the desktop. “I’ve loved them since I was a child. It’s rather an amusing story, actually. My parents have always lamented that they didn't name me ‘little seal’ Ronán, for how much I ended up loving them." Cuáine laughs lightly, shifting their gaze over to the little window that lets some light into the infirmary. "Apparently my father was of the opinion that the name was 'too common', so imagine his surprise when his seventh came out and eventually had to be dragged away from watching seals play on the shore. The, uh, doodling them-” Cuáine gestures again to the small seal drawing with a somewhat flushed expression, “-came from messin’ around with Saraah. It got to a point tha’ when I considered changing my name a couple times, he suggested I go with Ronán. I didn’t, obviously, but…”
“Hm.” Morien continues writing something down on a nearby pad of paper, and Cuáine has to resist the urge to be nosy and peek. They oddly aren’t meeting Cuáine’s face, but maybe they’re just focused? “Speaking of family, didn’t you say earlier that you had a meeting with Arthur and the council?”
Cuáine’s swinging leg stills, and they immediately swear, dark blonde hair swinging past their face when they jump off the desk. “Shit, I forgot about that! Thanks Morien!” They grab their bag and immediately dash out the infirmary door, but not without giving one last grateful wave to the physician.
As the door to the infirmary slams shut, Morien waits until the footsteps of the king's spouse have fully faded away before doing anything, including looking back down at the childish seal doodle.
"...Fuck." Morien murmurs, burying their face in their hands. It's the only way to successfully counteract their burning cheeks. "They might as well just fuckin’ stab me through the heart if they're gonna keep bein' this fuckin' cute."
Cuáine visits again only a few days later.
“Morien?”
When their knock and call go unanswered, they peek inside. Surprisingly, the infirmary is empty, devoid of its usual red-headed physician.
Perhaps Morien just had to go to the bathroom?
Regardless, Cuáine is here to drop off some herbs they gathered. They nudge the door open, walking over to the desk to drop the bundles off. Out of curiosity, green eyes stray to the mess of papers pinned to the wall’s cork board.
There, nestled among the notes for needed medicinal herbs, prescriptions and schedules, a small needle pins a little seal doodle to the wall.
Cuáine doesn’t quite believe it.
…Morien actually kept it?
Despite themself, Cuáine can feel a small grin curling their lips as they reach for another scrap of paper and lead pencil.
When Morien comes back, they find a package of herbs on the table and a new scrap of paper pinned to the wall- one with another seal doodled on it, holding a tiny knife in one flipper and a scar across its abdomen.
Look! It’s you n’ me.
(Eventually, the collection grows to include a seal with a crown, two with knightly armor, one with a long black braid, and a seal pup with tiny dragon wings, but the first two remain pinned together.)
---
(Morien and the setting belong to @the-kingshound!)
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