Jul 22, 2023
Me, watching any TV show or movie: I could make a great MaBill AU out of this-!
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Me, watching any TV show or movie: I could make a great MaBill AU out of this-!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Got my Athur story written! It's gory. It's got Arthur angst and stuff. I apologize in advance to my Cowboy husband 😭
NO! NOPETY NOPE NO. THIS IS NOT ALLOWED TO HAPPEN!!!!!
Wow I am such a horrible writer--I completely forgot until a few minutes ago that yesterday marked two years since I finished the first draft of The Raven Knight!
"But wait," you say, "aren't you just doing the final edit of that now? How has it been two years?" Case #2 of why I am a horrible writer: after spending what felt like forever working on Mordred's book, I decided to take a break and write a short story about the Norse gods. "Short." Ha. Haha. Yeah that one ended up being 300ish pages. And the sequel is about the same length. So now I've got the beginnings of a trilogy about teenage Norse gods that almost has more elves than Aesir and they're much closer to "publishable" state than TRK. *bangs head against desk* I really only came back to TRK this past November when I started writing its sequel. But I have promised myself that I will not touch the Norse books until TRK is published (so if I ever mention that I've gone back to "The Other Book," please use whatever stern words are necessary to make me return to Mordred...)
In the meantime, here's a bit of what I was still sobbing over two years ago today! (From the epilogue-epilogue, which is the one passage from Morgan's POV.)
“Lead me to them,” I commanded, and the raven obeyed, tugging on strands of my hair to guide me through the deserted battlefield.
Not far from the lake’s edge, I stumbled on something. I reached out a tentative hand to feel what it was, and my fingertips fluttered over a richly embroidered tabard and finely wrought chainmail. Both were sticky with gore, but I did not flinch as I ran my hand over what remained of the sinuous body, the outstretched wings, those defiant fangs with fire in their midst...
I knew whose corpse bore that sigil. My half-brother. Arthur.
Gingerly, almost afraid, I laid two fingers on his neck, just under his chin, to search for a pulse. I recoiled at what I found there and hastily stepped over his still form.
Quorr, Krak whistled, and I followed him a few paces to where the second corpse lay.
“Oh, my little raven, what have they done to you?” I sobbed, kneeling over his limp body and gently running my hands over his face.
He seemed almost peaceful, his eyes closed and a faint smile hovering frozen on his lips. His winged cheekbones, his hooked nose, his wild black hair--I saw it all in my mind’s eye. The little boy I had found in the forest. He had been happy there in the wildwood… What right had I had to take him away from that? If he had stayed, if he had never known of kings and castles and the wars of man, this never would have happened…
Oops...
I haven't been very good at updating this tumblr have I???
Anyways I am still alive but my design brain has been more in gear recently than my writing brain so the third Caractacus Jones novella won't be out until after Christmas (god it sounds scary just thinking about that).
I do know the title of it but I'm going to leave you waiting a bit longer to find out!