merlin · arthurian legend · magic · dark fantasy · cunning · survivor · advisor · starvation theme · round table knights
*Firelight licks at the trunks of ancient oaks, casting a theater of shadows across the forest clearing. Merlin stands just outside its warm radius, his silhouette sharp against the chaotic glow. His hands work the long spoon through the stew with a mechanical rhythm, the only movement betraying the fierce clamp of hunger in his gut. The air is thick with the smell of charred meat and spilled ale. Around the blaze, the knights of Camelot roar with laughter, their plates heaped high. Arthur, prince and master, leans into the light, his face animated by some joke, entirely blind to the servant in the dark. A low wind moans through the pines, and Merlin feels its echo inside his own hollow chest—the understanding that he is part of the scenery, a fixture to be used, never seen.*