#waltharius

[haljathefangirlcat]

Sometimes I wonder if Walther of Aquitaine is the one hero from the Nibelung/Volsung/Dietrich Cycle to have to most number of brain cells. He clearly gets the heck out of dodge when he can, and then afterwards refuses to be pulled into anymore slapfights. He and Dietrich are the only heroes from that cycle of myths to have happy endings (if you call becoming an immortal Wild Huntsman a happy ending) off the top of my head.

If you had to do a modern AU, would Walther be the one friend constantly facepalming at his buddies' antics?

Well... the only particularly extra thing I can recall about Walther right now is that one version of the story of his fight against Hagen where he throws the bone of a boar he and Hildegund had just been eating at Hagen. But I suppose that's more being good at thinking on his feet even when startled than being a drama queen, lol. There's also the final dialogue between him and Hagen in the Waltharius, I guess, but that's more a "you're probably not that normal if you're so chill about this" kind of thing. All in all, Walther does seem fairly level-headed and sensible by heroic standards. Whenever I think of Modern!AU scenarios for these characters, I like to imagine Walther and Hildegund as a rather reserved and lowkey couple, looking at all the drama going on around them and shaking their heads while sighing in relief that they're not involved.

However, especially in those scenarios, I also like to think they both have their dramatic and even petty sides. Walther has a few rather iconic lines in the Waltharius (my faves are -- not the exact quote from memory, mostly because I have a rather shitty memory, lol -- "Christ's thorn, you sprout such pricking foliage" and "you dance and jest, but when will you fight me?", both aimed at Hagen) and his attitude towards Gunther, no matter how justified, frankly cracks me up, so I do like imagine him as a rather sarcastic person and one who will hold a grudge if provoked enough. Which makes having him and Gunther occasionally be forced to interact as friends (or boyfriends...) of Hagen who can't stand each other in my little Modern!AU fantasies honestly hilarious. Plus, I also like to reimagine the allusions to the Aeneid in his relationship with Hildegund in the Waltharius, especially those in that scene where Hildegund thinks he's going to marry a Hunnish girl and is upset with him, as both of them having a genuine love for the Classics and bringing that into their admittedly rare fights. Often while Hagen watches on like "I've known you for years and I still don't know what's wrong with you guys."

As for Dietrich... this is ofc outside of Germanic heroic shenanigans, but did you know there's also a Latin story where the Devil himself turns into a black horse, lures him on his back, and then rides off into Mount Etna, which is conveniently a secret entrance to Hell itself? It's a bit like how Etzel's generally a good guy in continental sources but Atli's an asshole in Norse ones, imo. And I guess that's not really relevant to the conversation, but sorry, Dietrich is just so Extra about everything including his death, no matter what tradition you're looking at, and I kinda love talking about it. XD

[big-takeshi]

Waltharius, 380-399: El bárbaro rey [Atila] se enciende de ira184 feroz, la profunda tristeza de su corazón se refleja en su cara, hasta hace poco alegre. Se arranca el manto de los hombros y lo arroja al suelo, fluctuando en un mar de dudas y angustias; como se revuelve la arena en medio de una tormenta desatada por Eolo, así agitan al rey procelosas preocupaciones. Uno detrás de otro se le ocurren pensamientos contradictorios, que, al instante, se reflejan en su rostro, exteriorizando sus cambios de ánimo; la ira, sofocándolo, le impide pronunciar palabra. Pasó todo el día sin beber ni probar bocado, sin poder descansar ni por un momento. Tan pronto como la noche les había quitado a las cosas sus colores, cayó rendido en el lecho, pero no pudo cerrar los ojos por más que diera vueltas con su cuerpo de un lado a otro; palpita su pecho como si un agudo dardo lo hubiese atravesado, arroja la cabeza de un lado para otro, y de pronto, se yergue y sienta al pie de la cama como un loco. Pero esto no lo calma; sale entonces a vagar por la ciudad, vuelve al lecho y, tan pronto como vuelve, lo abandona. Desvelado, así pasaba la noche Atila.

[nya-vivi]

So I have to read a bunch of classics for my latin medieval/renaissance literature class and my last reads were Pamphilus de Amore and the Waltharius.

Pamphilus is an easy read but has severely dissapointed me, would not recommend 3/10 (3 points because some parts i found funny, but that's all). The ending was anticlimatic even if it was foreshadowed. Still horrible ending.

Waltharius on the other hand I enjoyed a lot, 9/10. That one point is because the ending is abrupt, but that's a normal thing with epics. I will read this one again.

[letdreamsbememes]

PROMPT IDEAS FROM GERMAN LITERATURE (MEDIEVAL)

every prompt can be changed to match the mun’s preference. prompts inspired by medieval german literature (700-1500 AD), minus religious texts and translations.

Hildebrandslied: Muse A and Muse B meet each other again after being separated for a long time. Muse A recognises them, but Muse B doesn’t. Bonus: they’re part of opposing armies and meet on the battlefield.

Merseburger Zaubersprüche (1): Muse A has been captured by enemy forces, and Muse B tries to free them - with magic.

Merseburger Zaubersprüche (2): As the muses are on a hunting trip, something bad happens. Muse A tries to employ magic to save them.

Waltharius / Walther und Hildegunde: Muse A and Muse B have been engaged since they were children and as adults, they fell in love. Now the guardian or parents of Muse A decide they should marry another person and Muse A can’t openly refuse. Instead, they both flee in the dark of the night.

Rolandslied: after being betrayed and abandoned, they face an overwhelming army, only to accept a martyr’s death. Bonus: Muse A and B are the monarchs, and B has to submit to A’s mercy.

König Rother: Muse A wants to marry Muse B, but has to court them. Muse B is reluctant to marry them, not before they show themselves to be the ideal partner. Bonus: Muse B wants to marry them too, but their parent refuses.

Iwein: Muse A kills Muse B’s partner in a duel, but now has to marry them themselves - be it to protect them, or because they fell in love. 

Tristan: after accidentally drinking a love potion, Muse A and B fall in love, but Muse B is to marry Muse A’s lord.

Nibelungenlied (1): After a dream of seeing their love being torn apart, Muse A is known to refuse every suitor and vowed to never get married. but Muse B is hellbent on courting them and make them their wife or husband.

Nibelungenlied (2): Muse A retains their power as long as they remain unwed, but Muse B plans to marry them. Muse A agrees, but only if they can vanquish them in a fair fight. Bonus: Muse C helps Muse B.

Der arme Heinrich: Muse A suffers from a mysterious disease that can only be cured with the blood (or death) by Muse B and only if they willingly sacrifice themselves. Muse B accepts death to save Muse A. Bonus: Muse B refuses or doesn’t want to die, and they search for another cure.

Orendel: Muse A, on their way to their wedding with Muse B, gets lost and presumed dead. Only with the help of a magical artifact, they make it to their fiancé(e). Bonus: Muse B is present the entire time, and they survive together.

Under der linden: While Miuse A hails from nobility, Muse B’s family are farmers. They fall in love, but since they can’t marry, they have to meet in secret.

Ich zoch mir einen valken: Muse A leaves Muse B, and now they have to watch them get together with another person (potentially Muse C).

[daylightisminetoconsume]

“Waltharius would be a worthy name. It would suit the Impure’s ego.”

[rosheendubh]

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Waltharius

The strange paths this journey takes me on...I'd forgotten all about this gem of Medieval Saga-hood. In uniting Gwen's unique segment to my most beloved of Germanic myths, a clash of two adored heroines I've always dreamt of uniting has finally taken form. Gwen as a young woman, coming of age, educated in a 460-470s era decaying Rome, convent and hospital style, beneath the tutelage of an Alexandrian or Byzantine physician (still need to pump Arthurian Romance for an adequate prototype to borrow on that--and found it. See the Gold Boobs post...and the Lycurgius Cup), and an abbess...who happens to be the retired, incognito version of Gudrun.

~

A Queen Like No Other...

We’re guiessing, maybe some time frame from about 465 to 475 or 480AD...

The last surviving daughter of the Gepids, exhausted of the world, had sought her peace, retiring to a nunnery in the waning decades of Rome’s twilight,  The massacre of her brothers, Gundahar and Hagano, to the combined forces of Atila and Aetius, was a tragedy instigated first by Brunhilde's vengeance, betrayed by Sigfrid, the only man Gudrun had ever loved, and who hadn’t the honor to stand up to her mother on the night Gudrun had been presented to him, and claim his love for wild Brynhilde. The closure had been all Gudrun’s though, serving her butchered sons by Atila, to their own father, lighting his hall on fire, and watching his men roast, drunken in their excess, celebrating the demise of the Burgundi, retching and choking as Gudrun regaled them the  ingredients of their foul feast while they suffocated on smoke and flame. It wasn’t till some years later, when her tears left her dry, no more grief to spare.  Beloved Swanhild, her only daughter by Sigfrid, convulsed, dying in her arms, trampled to death because of a weak husband’s faithlessness. Her daughter’s broken body was a sack of shattered shells. For all the sorrow Gudrun sustained, it was then her heart had turned to a hard, bitter stone.

Harsh and cynical, she’s always attuned to Old Grim, his One-Eyed Shadow following her, even into the cloisters of the convent, the retreat of the Christian God by which she sought to elude Wotan.  Duty still goads though, meaningless distractions the women find to occupy themselves, like taking in the daughters of barbarian nobles. Providing some means of trade, education, or dowry to unfortunate girl-children of widows and orphans, left bereft in the tumult of a dying Empire.

Gwenafyr ferch Edern of the Cawnr.  Aeternus, her father styles himself here, in these old weathered palaces where men still cling to archaic Latin, trying to dilute the jarring utterances of tribal chieftains who now retain titles of legate and prefect. The young girl put into her charge is a tribulation.. Spoiled, barbarian royalty, her people inhabit a rock sitting in gray waters at the end of the earth. She tasks Gwen with the most menial of novice chores in the convent, enforcing a lifestyle the strictest of ascetics would have found withering. And Gwen, lonely, angry, resentful of her father abandoning her to such mistreatment, lashes out.  Which impresses Gudrun, who approves of the girl's spirit and determination.  Her inherent recalcitrance, it seems. She'll need it one day, to face the world she will eventually inherit. For Gudrun--god's rune--can See.

The gifts her Lord of mead, madness, brilliance, and Vision endowed long ago, before she knelt in obeisance beneath a cross, a broken and sorrowing soul back then. What she sees upon this girl is the shadow of her One Eyed Keeper, a fate of darkness, and a hope so bright, of something into the future Gudrun thinks even Old Grim shies back from, just a little. Courage of mind and heart burning from young Gwenafyr's eyes. Gudrun, in her final, parting defiance to the curse Wotan holds upon her days, steals her nights in a deluge of rotten memory, intends, against all odds in this failing chaotic time, to raise this child, just on the verge of her adolescence, a few years short yet, into a queen such as the world will never forget. A woman to leave her mark upon a future. Where others have failed, she might, just might, open up something of hope, a path leading out of the thorns bleeding these dark times.

Where better, than Britannia, when she returns to her island at the edge of the world. "But first...first, girl," Gudrun explains into the furious gaze of this hoyden, "before you learn to serve a land, you must learn what it is to serve beggars."

And so commences Gwen's education in the halls of Rome's old crumbling libraries, and the stench filled corridors of the charity hospitals. Reciting Latin, Greek, the Gothic parlance of Gudrun's tongue, Gwen ministers remedies from the texts of classical physicians long turned to dust, their words and knowledge leap from scrolls crusted and protesting the sun of a world much different than the one once gracing the mirages still glimpsed amid decaying plazas, toppled pillars, and bramble thick fields.

Hours drag, roll away into months. Months turn with the seasons into years. One, then five. A decade. And finally...finally she may just be ready. To return. Claim a king. Claim a nation.

Gudrun mourns her parting--Gwen, transformed into the daughter fate cheated her when Swanhild was trampled by Eomer's men, rage wrought upon charges of adultery never born truth. Wotan has marked her. A presence Gudrun never hesitated to speak of as their affection deepened in the years. Gwenafyr never seemed bothered. Upon her island, women are goddesses, mortal embodiment of immortal dream. What has she to fear from a shade skulking at the edge of vision?

Merely curious, Gwen's irony and ruefulness have become her defense into maturity, education of reason and science shaping how her student views the foibles of humanity. There's nothing of the virgin philosopher though, Gwenafyr all too aware of the world's temptations and luxuries, and perfectly obliging to hedonism. In moderation. But she would have made a terrible nun. Because there's also nothing of fear in her. What traditions steeped her childhood in that far north country before she'd entered Gudrun's convent, they left an indelible mark, as deep cloven as Wotan's shadow upon Gwen's wyrd. A child of queens before queens--gods and men alike, heroes all of them, to be molded by the guidance of their women. Gwen knows her worth. And she will not be restrained by warlord, priest, bard. Or God. Unless the word of God, a god, rings with truth and compassion.

Gudrun's heart warms with pride, and something she has long denied. That minuscule softening deep inside, where she buried many years ago, the raging grief of so many deaths. Sorrow again, loss, as the ship leavens, creak of oar and plank, its hull buoyed by the current of the Tiber. The price of love.

Gwen approaches the rails, reaching for a final glimpse of her world these last 10 years. Sadness, inevitable at their parting, hangs heavy in Gudrun’s mind. The uncertainty breaking through the excitement animating Gwen’s clean lined face when she seeks Gudrun across the distance of the widening waters eases some of the weight of her sorrow, realizing just then, how much she has meant to her young charge. Gudrun nods to her farewell as the ship glides further from the dock.  Her blessing and confidence in that bow of her head.

It's enough. Her breath catches, the shade about Gwen hovering, cast back by the brightness, not only in the sudden joy shining in the younger woman's eyes, but her spirit. Blazing. To Gudrun's Sight it's a corona that washes out the image of the ship, passengers milling around Gwen--so bright, Gudrun feels the world sway.

She catches herself, shaking her head to clear it, swallow air to still the gallop of her pulse. A small wave of her hand reassures the concerned glance of a food vendor from his stall. So bright, into the threads of the future sometimes illuminated by this curse. Gwenafyr's spirit shimmers, dew drops along spider-silk lit by the sun, her strand dancing with the warp and weft of time. And always, around her, shadow of Grim's talons trying to grasp her light. Until another ray, lancing brilliance, tangles the dark claws away. That second soul always with her, hearts vowed in every life.

Her laugh is purely internal. *Plug it, Old Man. She's never been yours, and never will be.*

His voice isn't sound so much as as sensation. The draft of heat from flame. A wash of fire in the air, heaviness like a brewing storm, pressing thick in the wind. *No. But I am hers, when she wants. And want,* the voice a sigh in the dark, *she will.* Sensuous, it wraps around her, shivering caress down her spine.

Curse the bastard. This ecstasy he commands, how longing not felt for years can awaken her dried husk of flesh, sagging breasts and wrinkled thighs warming with forgotten urge.

*Soon daughter. Soon.* Gudrun hopes whatever passes for his incorporeal eye, the one observing the world, he can see her scowl, plain across her brow.

*Easily. That's why I always favored you over Brynhilde. She worshiped until she hated. You...you hated from the first. My mead deepened your bitterness, Gudrun. But recall, you never denied my gifts. Neither will she.*

*No,* Gudrun finds herself humoring him like they're a pair of old lovers. *But she may take your gifts and turn them into something even you never anticipated, Old Man. She cast Andarvi's Horde from curse to blessing, easing the lives of our poor. And his ring, when finally melted down, became...* At this she does let her dry chuckle escape, hearing, feeling a flabbergasted god's very mortal consternation.

*...became her set of surgical instruments.* Gudrun isn't certain, but she thinks Wotan might not be a little pleased. *Walkryian.*

"She's no harvester of the dead, Old Man. Let her be." Her pointed defense rings sharp in the silence of a deserted square lying along the route she’s chosen. A reluctant fountain bubbles from an eroded sculpture of Venus cuddling Eros in her lap.

*Change, chaos, wrecker of order, I am. Even gods can be no other than what our nature dictates, Gudrun. Her line has always drawn me, at these crossroads of fate. Darkness. Light. She possesses both destruction and rebirth.*

"And she fears neither, Old Man. Nor does she believe in your wyrd."

*Enlightenment,* his utterance, a breeze stirring, sweeping the detritus of the streets in her wake.

"I believe the word she used was...*wealwian*," Gudrun counters.

Silence. So profound, for a moment, she thinks she's actually offended old One Eye. Until, faint at first, a building crescendo of laughter, thunder, waves, and wind in her mind, fills her sense with his joy.

*You’ve done well, Gudrun.* A father, proud of his daughter. She abides his praise, burying her annoyance.  He accommodates the capriciousness of human nature with the ease of a child, even when his acolytes deliberately stray, denouncing him, evading his sight.

*A queen like no other. She will invite the end of an age. And seed a new dawn. Where hovers hope, her dream still waits. But it will take shape, in time.*

The air ripples, waves breaking upon the shore of  mind. Ebbing, a veil thins between universes. Ghostly, coalescing from a fog. A man, lean of limb, hair like russet leaves in autumn sunset, elegant in height, dressed in foreign garb. Shirt and vest, trousers cut to the knee--strange to an eye accustomed still, to the swathes of robes donned by Latin magistrates,   But the trappings of the desk at which he’s hunched, intent upon his writing, a candle burning against shadows, are recognizable luxuries, despite the span of time between Gudrun’s present, and this future she into which she peers. 

His hand, furious as the speed of a river flowing from restless thought. *The tree of Liberty...*  The syllables a garble of incomprehension. She recognizes their rhythm if not their sound. It’s the magic of poetry. Wotan’s gift. Gudrun has known bards in her lifetime. Gundahar crafted verse of such beauty, hearts broke, and serpents sighed in slumber. She knows well, this passion bleeding into ink, soaked into a parchment she’s never witnessed, fine white sheaves, smooth, blank medium where his vision pours from his crippled hand. His ravenous mind.

A door latch releases. Gudrun,  peering into dream, sees a woman, young, slight-built, her apparel too, strange, curves of bust and waist fitted into drab gray, but the trappings accentuate feminine proportions of limb and torso, while skirts, floor-length and layered, conceal the line of leg. What odd tastes must dictate fashion in that foreign time. The woman turns from hanging her outer-wear upon a coat hook.  A cloud of black waves crowns her head, tresses bound into a careless chignon. Her eyes, dark, deepened by her sharp-boned, vivid features, linger upon the man.  Full of a suffering even Gudrun, in her cynicism, far removed from this moment yet to come, finds hard to bear.

The man’s hand slows in its frenzied scribbles. Stills. He leans back in his chair, stealing himself, it seems, to meet the young woman’s gaze.  The look, passing between them, long in its silence, conveys what Gudrun has lived, of yearning, tenderness, and despair.  And she knows, sure in her bones, certain as Sigfrid’s love once filling her lost youth, it’s the woman’s strength and courage which embody everything blooming of hope and truth, testimony from this conflicted scribe. Every bard and poet harbors some tortured secret. Even the intellectuals. That’s the only pearl which Gudrun ponders as the scene dissolves, froth of waves merging back into the vast sea.  Her present, this mundane world, dusk descending upon the abandoned plaza, tucked away in its maze of streets in a city fallen into ruin. Rome. Once the Queen of the World. 

And Gwenafyr ferch Edern--destined to become a queen like no other other. Whose progeny, whether they thrive or perish, will leave their mark upon dreams undiscovered.

*There once was a dream that was Rome...*

[alamio]

willkommen-in-germany: The German Nibelungen (with the...

The German Nibelungen (with the corresponding Old Norse Niflung/Niflungr) is the name in Germanic and Norse mythology of the royal family or lineage of the Burgundians who settled in the early 5th century at Worms. The vast wealth of the Burgundians is often referred to as the Niblung hoard. In some German texts Nibelung appears instead as one of the supposed original owners of that hoard, either the name of one of the kings of a people known as the Nibelungs, or as the name of a dwarf. In Richard Wagner’s opera cycle Der Ring des Nibelungen (1848-1874), it denotes a dwarf, or perhaps a specific race of dwarves. The earliest probable surviving mention of the name is in the Latin poem Waltharius, believed to have been composed around the year 920. Read more about the German tradition here. 

[haljathefangirlcat]

Walther's homeland Aquitaine, in the modern era, sits squarely in the region of Gascony, known for its good food, fine wine, and the homeland of courtly love and D'artagnan of the Three Musketeers. As a result I can't help but imagine him and Hildegund as foodies, as opposed to Hagen's wolf and snake sausages.

Fun fact! In Italian, "guascone" (meaning a man from Gascony) is an old-fashioned term (today, you're not very likely to encounter it said this way unless someone's being deliberately "antique" for comical effect) for a guy who's jovial and generally fun to be around but also a bit too arrogant as well as prone to boasting, often by exaggerating normal things or just making shit up. Which isn't really how I see Walther (while your headcanon, on the other hand, sounds very cute: imagine him and Hildegund cooking together and experimenting by sharing and combining regional recipes and foods from their native lands with stuff they picked up in Pannonia/Hunaland!) but is something I find way too amusing. XD

[maier-files]

New Post has been published on The Maier Files

New Post has been published on http://the.maier-files.com/the-original-laurin-der-kleine-rosengarten/

The original Laurin & Der kleine Rosengarten

The Story of Laurin & The Small Rose Garden

  Laurin was probably one of the most popular poems concerning the knight called Dietrich and is attested in variety of manuscripts as well as in printed editions. It almost certainly originates in the 12th century in Tyrol, and has 4 major variations or versions. They all are written in rhyming couplets, except the Dresdner Laurin which is written in stanzas.

The earliest version of the story (the so-called elder Vulgate edition (ältere Vulgatversion)) starts with a dialogue between Witige and Hildebrand. Witige claims that Dietrich is the biggest hero ever; Hildebrand objects that Dietrich has not ever undergone a twergen-âventiure (dwarf-adventure). At this point Dietrich walks in and is really angered by Hildebrand’s personal critique. Hildebrand conveys to Dietrich where he could find this sort of an adventure: the dwarf king Laurin has a rose-garden in the Tyrolian forest. He will battle any challenger who breaks the thread encircling his rose garden. Dietrich and Witige instantly set off to challenge Laurin; Hildebrand and also Dietleib follow sneakily behind. Upon seeing the stunning rose-garden, Dietrich relents and decides that he does not wish to destroy or harm anything so charming.

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Witige, nonetheless, argues that Laurin’s pride must be punished, and not only breaks the strand, but tramples the whole rose garden. In next to no time the dwarf Laurin emerges, armed so splendidly that Witige mistakes him for the Archangel Michael. Laurin demands the left foot and right hand of Witige as punishment for the total devastation of the garden. He clashes and defeats Witige, but Dietrich then determines that he can not permit his vassal to lose his limbs, and fights Laurin personally. At first, Dietrich is losing, but Hildebrand arrives and instructs Dietrich to grab the dwarf’s cloak of invisibility and strength-granting belt, then fight him on foot (the dwarf was riding a deer-sized horse) wrestling him to the ground. Laurin, now defeated, pleads for mercy, but Dietrich became enraged and vows to kill the dwarf. And lastly, Laurin turns to Dietleib, telling him he had kidnapped and married the hero’s sister, so that he was now Dietleib’s brother-in-law. Dietleib hides the dwarf and prepares to combat Dietrich, but Hildebrand makes peace between them.

Dietrich and Laurin are reconciled, and Laurin invites the heroes to his kingdom under the mountain. All are enthusiastic except Witige, who senses treachery. In the mountain they are well received, and Dietleib meets his sister. She tells him she is being well treated and that Laurin has only one fault: he is not Christian. She wants to leave. Meanwhile, Laurin, after a feast, confides to Dietleib’s sister that he wishes to avenge himself on the heroes. She advises him to do so. He drugs Witige, Hildebrand, and Dietrich and throws them into a dungeon. He tries to commit Dietleib to join his side, but locks him in a chamber when the hero refuses. Dietleib’s sister steals the stones that light the mountain and releases Dietleib. They then deliver weapons to the other heroes, and they begin a slaughter of all the dwarves in the mountain. In the end Laurin is taken as a jester back to Verona. Depending different accounts he could liberate himself and return to his magical kingdom in some versions he became Dietrich’s friend. According to Wolfram von Eschenbach, Laurin confided to Dietrich von Bern: “You still have 50 years to live. Yet know that my brother at home in German lands is able to give a thousand-year life. You need only choose a mountain that is ablaze inside. Then you will be akin to earthly gods!”

A connection exists between the Laurin stories and a Tyrolian folk-story in which the rose garden is the source of the magical morning-glow on the Alps.  However, some researchers believe that, since this story is only attested from the 17th century onward, it is more likely to have been influenced by the text than the other way around. Others have attempted to connect the rose garden to a cult of the dead or with an ancestral cult. Similarities with Celtic inspired Arthurian romance (the rose garden as otherworld) have also been proposed.

The Large Rose Garden at Worms

  Any which way there exists also a Large Rose Garden – Der große Rosengarten – (The Rose Garden at Worms). Der Rosengarten zu Worms is attested in numerous manuscript and printed copies from the early 14th century until the late 16th century. The story connects characters surrounding the legend of Dietrich von Bern with those of the Nibelungenlied, and is closely connected with the similar epic, Biterolf und Dietleib.

The basic outline of the story is this: Gibich is the lord of the rosegarden in Worms, and as Kriemhild’s father also father of the three Burgundian kings, Gibich dares any wooer to defeat the garden’s twelve guardians. Dietrich von Bern and Etzel, king of the Huns take up the challenge together. They travel to Worms with their retinue, and face each of the guardians in single combat. Among the guardians are giants, named Pusolt, Ortwin, Schrutan and Asprian. Dietrich von Bern fights and defeats Siegfried. Except for one draw (Biterolf refuses to fight his kinsman Walther of Aquitaine), all fights end with Dietrich’s side victorious. Dietrich fights against Siegfried, initially doing poorly and complaining of Siegfried’s hardened skin. Hildebrand tells Wolfhart to falsely tell Dietrich of the tutors death, after which point Dietrich’s rage causing him to breathe fire like a devil and Hildebrand must intervene so that Dietrich does not kill Siegfried. Finally, Gibich has to submit to Dietrich and Etzel, and the victors are honoured with garlands of Roses and kisses from Kriemhilde.

A connection between this poem and Dietrichs encounter with Siegfried in the Thidrekssaga is usually speculated: either the author of the Thidrekssaga knew of the Rosengarten and altered it for his work (meaning that the Rosengarten existed in the 13th century) or there was an even older tale of Dietrich’s encounter with Siegfried which diverged into the story found in the Thidrekssaga and that of the Rosengarten. Especially noticeable is the fact that Kriemhilt and Gunther’s father has the name Gibich, corresponding to the Norse tradition and the Waltharius, which in the Nibelungenlied has been replaced by another name.

The saga contains many narratives found in other medieval tales about Theoderic, but also supplements them with other narratives and provides many additional details. It is not clear how much of the source material might have been orally transmitted and how much the author may have had access to written poems. The preface of the text itself says that it was written according to “tales of German men” and “old German poetry“, possibly transmitted by Hanseatic merchants in Bergen.[5] Contrary to the historical reality of Theoderic’s life, most of the action of the saga is set in Northern Germany, situating Attila’s capital at Susat (Soest in Westphalia) and the battle situated in the medieval German poem Die Rabenschlacht in Ravenna taking place at the mouth of the Rhine. This is part of a process operative in oral traditions called “localization”, connecting events transmitted orally to familiar places, and is one of the reasons that the poems collected by the saga-writer are believed to be Low German in origin.

And remember: there’s always more than meets the eye!

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Very interesting is Georg Holz work on Laurin’s Rose Garden from 1897 (A GERMAN EDITION):

http://amzn.to/2oRV3ww

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    http://amzn.to/2toBz7r

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    http://amzn.to/2HfCTeW

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[haljathefangirlcat]

Etzel, looking at his war hostages foster children:

Hagen, who's just learned that Gunther is the new king and not going to pay any more tributes to the Huns:

[haljathefangirlcat]

International Fanworks Day: Self-Indulgence

Or, not quite a crossover, even I don’t really know what it is, but it WAS way too fun to write. So, thanks AO3 for giving me a good excuse!

Of Dragons, Vengeance, And Whatnot

Das Nibelungenlied/Waltharius/House of the Dragon. Gunther, Hagen von Tronje, Walther von Aquitanien, Brunhild, Kriemhild, Siegfried von Xanten. 

G, background Gunther/Brunhild and Siegfried/Kriemhild and Walther/Hildegund, not-so-subtly implied Gunther/Hagen, Walther/Hagen, Volker/Hagen, and Brunhild/Kriemhild. 

The dumb Modern AU where they all watch HotD together and I get to make dumb jokes to my heart’s content.

[haljathefangirlcat]

By the way, what are your thoughts on Glaumvor and Kostbera, if you had to include them in your "ideal" version of the story? Especially Kostbera. In terms of being difficult to get along with, much less remain married to, I would rate Hagens on a scale of Rosengarten Hagen > Nibelungenlied Hagen > Wagner Hagen > Volsung Saga Hogni > Thidrekssaga Hogni > Ballad Hogni. And of course Waltharius Hagen is the prequel where he isn't quite so intense, murderous, or scheming. And especially in the Continental sources, where there's no mention of a wife, it's hard to imagine him finding the time to get married with how much he's stuck babysitting his lord or friends. So if Kostbera exists, is she just clearing out of the room so Walther or Volker can take over and deal with Hagen's bad moods?

I've actually never tried to mix the canons, so to say, when it comes to these two.

As you said, Hagen never gets a wife or even a passing love interest in Continental sources -- he really seems like the sort of guy who'd always be too busy fixing up everyone's messes (and then, sometimes, contibuting to making even bigger ones, lol) to even think about that sort of thing, but to me, there's also the way he just feels almost removed from women and their whole sphere, in a sense. In the Nibelungenlied, he remembers Helche fondly, but she's already dead by that point and doesn't even figure in that story; he seems to like Gotelinde, but when they do meet in person, he really only talks to her due to the shield of another man, her dead brother, and then, that whole interaction between them serves mainly to set up the pretext that later allows him not to fight Rudiger; he seems to agree with every other man in Bechlaren that Dietlinde is lovely, but rather than appreciating her himself, he's more concerned with setting up a marriage for Giselher (and thus, an alliance for the Burgundians), while from Dietlinde's point of view, he seems to be the only strange new man in her home to intimidate her; Kriemhild clearly trusts him and feels comfortable with him in the beginning, but the one scene where we really see that dynamic between them is already the one where he's using her to find out how to kill Siegfried without any apparent regret even while addressing her in fairly affectionate terms, and their relationship only goes downhill from there; he goes from calling Brunhild a devil to passionately swearing he'll avenge her honor, but tbh, to me both of these things seem more like they're about Brunhild's shifting relationship to Gunther, rather than about Brunhild as her own person. And even in the Waltharius, his interactions with (the woefully underutilized) Hildegund pretty much boil down to a "hey, Walther, tell your girl to pour us some wine." I'm not saying that I see him as incapable of having significant relationship with women (on the contrary, I'll cling with all my strength to the scraps we get of his affection for Helche, the possibility of a pre-mess positive-if-deteriorating relationship with Kriemhild, and that one source of the story of Walther that's eluding me rn but where Walther apparently wants to flee with Hagen but Hagen stops him and is all like "wtf, no, Hildegund is great and she deserves better than you abandoning her like this"), or even that I don't ship him women (I do!), but when it's so much easier to build on his relationships with men (as much as those are still, ofc, influenced by hierarchies and alliances), imagining a stable straight relationship of any kind, much less a marriage, for him is just something that always feels a bit too much of a hassle or even too out of left field to me.

When it comes to Gunther's wife, too, I prefer to go with the Nibelungenlied/Klage version, where Brunhild doesn't kill herself but rather stays alive at least until the coronation of Siegfried Jr., her son with Gunther. I actually like to imagine she took on a role as Siegfried Jr.'s chief advisor, with a good chunk of Worm's best knights dead in Etzel's court and Ute being presumably grief-stricken. My girl can (try to) put the entire mess behind her and be a well-respected and influential Queen Mother with a son to shape as she pleases guide and no husband to answer to, as a treat. But that leaves little room for a second marriage...

On the Norse side of things, on the other hand, I see both Hogni/Kostbera and Gunnar/Glaumvor as complex relationships. The former because what little we see of them involves Kostbera repeatedly trying to warn Hogni off the journey to Hunaland and Hogni outright dismissing her fears (to reassure her? To reassure himself? He just kinda snapped at her because he had a lot on his mind? All plausible options, imo) but, at the same time, they worked well enough together to have three or four kids; the latter, because they essentially have a repeat of the warning scene between Kostbera and Hogni, except Gunnar concludes it by admitting he actually agrees with Glaumvor but will face the danger anyway, but also because I can't imagine Glaumvor never heard anything about the whole thing with Brynhild and married Gunnar with a light-hearted, optimistic attitude. I picture both as arranged marriages, with no big "I'd leap through the flames for you" moment, and I think that, while Kostbera may have married Hogni pretty readily around the time Gunnar married Brynhild and Gudrun married Sigurd or shortly after because marrying into the Gjukungs was probably looking like a great prospect at the time, Glaumvor may have been pushed into Gunnar's arms by relatives trying to inch their own way closer to Sigurd's gold. I don't see either Hogni or Gunnar as the type to mistreat his wife (... well, beyond the occasional deception) but I imagine both relationship as relatively detached in the beginning, then warming up slowly and gradually through the years, especially in Glaumvor's case.

If I had to mesh those two visions together, I think I'd have Kostbera and Hagen as two sharp, strong-willed people who do have some things in common yet feel distant and slightly awkward around each other nonetheless, with Kostbera either slightly lonely and resentful of Hagen for being more dedicated to his duty and closer to his male friends (or "friends") than to her but also slightly grateful at the same time for the chance to mostly just do her own thing without her husband sticking his nose into her business, or having her own tightly-knit and kind of dramatic circle of female friends (or, again, "friends") as a contrast to his own dynamics, or a bit of both. As for Glaumvor and Gunther, I'd imagine the same uncertainty and shyness I usually pick for Glaumvor and Gunnar... only taken even further and a lot more difficult to grow past, what with Kriemhild still being in Worms for a while after Siegfried's death/being seemingly sent off to a land of pagans after having her husband murdered. Yup, Glaumvor would really be like "oh god, what DID I get myself into" about it.

(Btw, I sort of cackled a bit at seeing Wagner!Hagen in the middle of that ranking, tbh. Not that I don't love him a lot (<33333) but my boy is self-loathing on legs plus generalized misanthropy to go with the usual murder plus a horrible sleeping schedule probably plus terrible family dynamics no matter where you look... and just the thought of Wagner!Alberich as a father-in-law is, imo, terrifying. XDD As for Waltharius!Hagen, he literally waxes poetry about the human condition and needs to be comforted with hugs and kisses when he's upset. I want to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair. <333)

[haljathefangirlcat]

Sorry about yet more Nibelung asks, but is Ortwin's parentage ever expounded upon in any works? The Nibelungenlied just called him Hagen's (and maybe by extension Dankwart's) sister's son. So far as I'm aware, neither this sister nor her husband ever appears on-page. What is interesting, though, is that in Norse sources, there is a second Nibelung sister alternately named Gudny or Gullrond, and that's the only place we can find any sister of Hagen's appearing on-page (besides Gudrun/Kriemhild, but you know).

Hey, it's cool with me, really! ^^ As for Ortwin... mmmh, I don't think so? Or at least, there's nothing that comes to mind right now, but tbf, I actually had to check the text to see if he he really was identified as specifically the son of Hagen's sister -- not because I didn't believe you on that, ofc, but because I honestly just remembered him being referred to as Hagen's nephew. Which I suppose only goes to show that I've never seen anything expanding on his familial relationships, lol.

Hagen's unnamed sister (or, at least, an unnamed sister) is also mentioned in the Waltharius, in which she's the mother of Patravid, Hagen's nephew who dies fighting against Walther. No additional information is given on her or her husband there, either, but that's still easier to keep in mind for me because, understandably, Hagen angsts quite a bit about trying and failing to prevent his sister's son's death.

Tbh, I personally tend to keep my continental Germanic and Norse headcanon relatively separate (... unless it makes things very dramatic, very funny, or both), and even when talking about just the historical/literary aspect, I'm not quite sure if her figure could have actually had an equivalent in other traditions (especially with how drastically the composition of this family can vary from one source to another, and the fact that heroes having nephews by their sisters was just kind of a trope in Medieval Europe... in England, for example, you have King Arthur's nephews, and even Robin Hood originally had one in the form of an early Will Scarlett), however, I kinda love that you mentioned Gudny/Gullrond! Both because I love Gudrunarkvida I so, SO much, and necause I just like it when the minor/one-time/forgotten female figures of the Sigurd cycle (like Oddrun, or Kostbera, or Gunnar's second wife Glaumvor) get a mention. <3

[haljathefangirlcat]

Sorry for the spam. I have a lot of Volsung-Nibelung-Dietrich Cycle thoughts. But what do you think Volker's early life was like? His job is minstrel, which means two things in a medieval context: a knight with no real estate who was someone else's retainer, and traveling musician, and very often these two meanings would overlap, because knights with no independent income would take up music to make ends meet. However, the official establishment of minstrels/ministerialis as a social institution was around the Carolinian empire, which is later than original historical inspiration for the death of the Nibelung Dynasty or Attila. And I think the German is Volker Spielman, so he's technically just a musician? Volker is also called THE Minstrel, so was he the official court poet for the Burgundians? Scops of England and Skalds of Scandinvia had a fairly prominent position at court, where they not only entertained and recounted the deeds of their leaders, but also recited oral history and use satirical songs to spur people into action on the eve of battles or quests, so do you think Volker was filling this role for the Burgundians?

Aww, don't worry about it! Sure, it was a bit... unexpected, I guess, but that's mostly because I'm not used that many asks, in a row or not, on any topic. XD Also, I totally get the excitement of meeting someone else on here willing to talk about all of this. ;)

As for Volker... you know, I've often wondered about it, too. In the Nibelungenlied, at least, he seems to be placed pretty firmly in Gunther's court, but then again, we don't actually see that much of him before the Burgundians travel to Attila's court and the story starts (imo) zeroing in on Hagen's relationships and connections.

I'm pretty sure "Spielman" is the right term, but on the other hand, I'm not sure if that would indicate a very specific/well-defined role or be more of a "he's the Music Guy in our group, we identify him by his music before any other achievement or title."

Later representations/adaptations of him may not be very relevant to the question, but now that I'm thinking about it, he seems to be THE court poet in Worms in both Lang's and Reinl's Die Nibelungen movies. (Although, frankly, I've always thought he doesn't get enough space or importance in the former.) Stephan Grundy, too, gives him that kind of role in Rhinegold and Attila's Treasure, even if, due to setting his story in Late Antiquity, complete with Germanic migrations, foederati, and wary Romans, he puts more emphasis on him being not just a musician but a keeper of the Burgundians' mythological, historical, and genealogical lore. He also has him act as a messenger and an ambassador of sort between tribes.

I'm also thinking back to this one academic paper... "Volker von Alzey - the figure of the minstrel and standard~bearer in medieval Nibeîungen tradition and in German literature from 1819 to 1968" by David Noble. Bear with me because I read it ages ago, but iirc, at one point the author considered, among other theories on Volker's origins as a literary figure, the hypothesis that the Volker von Alzey we get specifically in the Nibelungenlied might have inspired by an historical nobleman from the Rhine area who was an Imperial administrator (or seneschal?) and standard-bearer who might have just happened to have a talent for music.

In my headcanons, I kind of always go for an aristocrat warrior/court poet angle, as it seems the neatest solution to me, but no matter what prominence and sway on other nobles and royals through his talents, eloquence, and wit I think up for him, I also generally picture him as... like, lower nobility, in a sense? Or at least, lower than, say, Hagen, who gets the "his ancestors totally descended from the Trojans" treatment in the Waltharius. Both because I enjoy the idea of Volker being just a bit of a self-made man, and because I really, really like the idea of the Volker/Hagen friendship (... or "friendship" ;)) and, more than that, their respect for each other and ability to discuss things as equals (like the "we should stand from the bench for Kriemhild" thing or, later, the "please don't go fight a bunch of Huns on your own" thing during the night watch... both arguments Hagen wins in the end, but he does that by convincing Volker and appealing to the affection they feel for each other, not by ordering Volker around) going easily beyond that kind of stuff.

... also, I thiiiiiink there's a little bit in Adventure 33, or anyway during the fight between the Burgundians and the Huns, where Hagen mentions to Gunther that he has a higher position than Volker when they all sit at a table together, and that he thinks Volker should get to wear finer clothes than he currently does? But I might be misremembering (or misinterpreting!) either the phrasing or the intention of that. So take that with a grain of salt, lol.

[haljathefangirlcat]

So aside for the author throwing in things just to be cool, what do you think is going on with the Rosengarten heroes in their titular poem? Gibich, Gunther, Hagen, Gernot, Siegfried, and Ortwin are a given -- the family that fights together, after all. And Volker is a Burgundian mainstay too. Walther...I guess he was allowed to come hang out with his friends, even after maiming both Hagen and Gunther, because friends don't hold a little maiming against each other. Asprian is a giant who pops up both as friend and enemy to various heroes across the legendary timeline. Schrutan is named as a Hunnic knight in the Nibelungenlied, but maybe Kriemhild brought him along with her as some sort of bodyguard? Studefuchs turns up as one of Dietrich's knights in his exile stories. Pusolt seems to be a random guy unless you interpret him as Dietrich's frenemy Fasolt. So what's going on? Did Asprian and Studenfuchs leave the Burgundians after the fight with Dietrich? And there's the fact that in non-Rosengarten materials, Asprian, Schrutan, and Studenfuchs (and maybe Pusolt) are honest to god Jotun/giants/trolls who aren't just being exaggerated as literary license. Is everyone just okay with this?

Tbh, I tend to think of the Rosengarten as kind of... the Beach Episode of Germanic epics. You know, the old style filler episode that doesn't move the plot along or give that much new insight into the themes of the story, but it has character that wouldn't usually meet ourside of some specific context coming together to have a day of wacky adventures? There's so much weird stuff in it that I can't help but see it that way. XD *gestures wildly in the general direction of Ilsan's general existence*

I especially love thinking about Hagen and Walther in that context/mood, actually. The Waltharius ending is already either very touching in a very bittersweet way or simply hilarious, depending on if you take it as a case of using gallows humor to cope or just being Like That even normally, with them having literally just mutilated each other and being already cracking inappropriate jokes at each other's expense ("Don't you think it might a bit perverse, embracing Hildegund with your left hand?" "Aren't you worried that now, whenever you look at another knight, they're gonna think you're looking at them sideways because you don't trust them?"), so I enjoy thinking about everyone else expecting a dramatic confrontation between them only for them to be like... whatever the manly warrior hero equivalent of "OMG HI BESTIE *waves excitedly*" even is, I guess, at each other.

And also about Hagen really, really not wanting to even take part in Kriemhild's silly tourney (as, iirc, he disses the whole idea of it in at least one manuscript) and Walther showing up being one of the few bright spots in it for him.

And also, due to a couple of lines in the Waltharius about the "famous harmony" between Hagen and Walther and about Hagen clinging to Walther's embrace and having to force himself to let go of it to flee the land of the Huns and go back to Worms, about the two of them taking any occasion to sneak away to chat together when they're not the ones fighting even if they're supposed to be on rival "teams"...

So to me that's like... do I have any idea why Walther's even there? No. But do I have this ridiculous mental image of Dietirch somehow meeting him along the way and starting to say "so, anyway, we're going to Worms for.." only to Walther to immediately go "Worms, you said?! Man, I haven't seen Hagen in ages, can I come with you guys?" before he even finishes that sentence? Absolutely.

All the people who turn out to be giants and other supernatural beings are, like, an "okay, this might as well happen today in this poem. Hildebrand's just pretended to be dad so Dietrich would get angry enough to spit fire at Siegfried, making Siegfried cower and hide under Kriemhild's veil, after all" deal to me. I suppose it might come down to different traditions that kind of got lost around the way, but I remember reading somewhere years ago about a version of the Rosengarten where all the knights on Team Worms were referred to as giants, so who knows, it might be literary exaggeration, it might be a new take that didn't, well, take. As for the Hunnic knights, I find your ideas fascinating and think they have a lot of potential, but usually, I just write it off as the same kind of weirdness. The "Dietrich can spit fire and Hildebrand is not above playing dead to mess with him" thing itself fits just too well with the overall weirdness of both characters for me to dismiss it, however, so.... yeah, that one can definitely stay and be a whole thing in my headcanons. XD

[haljathefangirlcat]

fun fact about me: you should never, ever leave me alone with any kind of doll dress-up game or avatar maker. especially very pretty Medieval ones like this picrew. because I will, inevitably, use them to make historically inaccurate (no matter where you begin to look for historicity) Nibelungenlied characters based on different variantions of the same headcanons I’ve had since I was eleven.

so anyway here’s Hagen (sans eyepatch which is really this picrew’s only flaw. any dress-up game or avatar maker with no eyepatch options is a personal attack on my worrying tendency to obsess over arrogant characters with no binocular vision. yes I could just ignore the Waltharius and any illustration, representation, or retelling drawing from it and stop complaining. but I won’t)

Volker

Brunhild

and two versions of Kriemhild (spot the visual pun!)