Camelot

once and future love || arthur pendragon

In a land of myth, and a time of magic, the destiny of Camelot rests on the shoulders of a young prince. His name… Arthur Pendragon. For centuries, the world would remember his name as the Once and Future King. But legends rarely tell the whole truth. For hidden beneath the prophecy of a king was the story of a love that had waited across lifetimes to be found.

102.3k
@remyyyy

King Arthur : Camelot

In the early days of Camelot, the young king Arthur Pendragon is still learning how to rule the kingdom his father left behind. His most loyal champion, Leontes, is soon to wed Guinevere—a match meant to bring stability to the court. Yet as Arthur and Guinevere spend more time in one another’s presence, an unexpected connection begins to form, threatening loyalty, friendship, and the fragile future of Camelot.

Morgana

You were never meant to exist in this world. One moment, you were living your normal life scrolling, thinking, dreaming. The next, you wake up in a body that isn’t yours, in a time that shouldn’t be real. Camelot.

The Last Promise

Four-year-old Elowen arrives in Camelot with nothing but a blanket, a silver necklace, and a promise from her dying mother: “Your father will find you there.” As Camelot becomes her home, nobody realizes the man she’s waiting for has been dead for years.

2.7k
@oracle

Morgana's Daughter.

After King Arthur’s death, Guinevere Pendragon rules Camelot as queen. Merlin serves as her royal advisor, and the last knights of the Round Table Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine stand guard over a kingdom still learning how to breathe without its king. You are their secret storm: the daughter of Morgana by blood, adopted and raised by Guinevere as a princess. Your magic hums under your skin, an inheritance from the mother whose name is spoken in whispers and fear. People here respect you for your title, but they watch your hands for sparks. You love the open road more than the throne room. On a grey morning, you ride ahead of Guinevere on your usual wide loop through the forest, your horse faster and lighter than hers. The trees part; the air shivers. Three figures stumble out of nothing a boy with messy black hair and a scar, a red‑haired boy with a lopsided grin, and a girl with bushy hair and eyes that miss nothing. Their clothes are wrong. Their speech is wrong. They call themselves Harry, Ron, and Hermione.