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#walther of aquitaine
haljathefangirlcat · 5 months
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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
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rhianna · 4 years
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Uniformly and persistently personal, the Sword became no longer an abstraction but a Personage, endowed with human as well as superhuman qualities. He was a sentient being who spoke, and sang, and joyed, and grieved. Identified with his wearer he was an object of affection, and was pompously named as a well-beloved son and heir. To surrender the Sword was submission; to break the Sword was degradation. To kiss the Sword was, and in places still is, the highest form of oath and homage.
Lay on our royal Sword your banished hands
says King Richard II. So Walther of Aquitaine:—
Contra Orientalem prostratus corpore partemAc nudum retinens ensem hac cum voce precatur.
The Sword killed and cured; the hero when hopeless fell upon his Sword; and the heroine, like Lucretia and Calphurnia, used the blade standing. The Swordxii cut the Gordian knot of every difficulty. The Sword was the symbol of justice and of martyrdom, and accompanied the wearer to the tomb as well as to the feast and the fight. ‘Lay on my coffin a Sword,’ said dying Heinrich Heine, ‘for I have warred doughtily to win freedom for mankind.’
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maier-files · 7 years
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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/2HfCTeW
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haljathefangirlcat · 4 months
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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
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haljathefangirlcat · 8 years
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The Waltharius as a Triad Poem
So recently I discovered the existence of the Triad Verse AU thanks to this wonderful blog: @triadverse
(Read their world-building posts they are SO COOL!)
… and since then I may have kinda sorta maybe spent a whole day, night included, imagining a Triad AU of the Waltharius Manu Fortis. Yes, the German poem by Ekkehard I. Yes, these are kind of things I usually think about. No, I don’t know why, I just do.
(Warning: I’m actually not that good at history and/or speculation, so this will probably end up not mostly not making sense. Yay!)
 So, the plot of the Waltharius is this:
Attila the Hun plans to expand his power in the west. King Gibicho of the Franks, fearing the oncoming invasion, asks his vassals what he should do, and they advise him to pay a tribute to the Huns and to send a hostage to them. Now, Gibicho has a son, Gunther, but he’s too young to be separated from his mother and embark on such a journey, so instead the king sends Hagen, the son of one of his vassals, whose family is supposed to be descended from the Trojans and so is noble enough not to be deemed an unfitting hostage.
Following Gibicho’s example, Heriric, king of Burgundy, sends his daughter and heiress Hildegund as a hostage, too. King Alphere of Aquitaine then also sends a tribute and his son Walther, who happens to be Hildegund’s betrothed. Now satisfied, the Huns return to their land, Pannonia. Attila decides he will raise the three hostages as if they were his own children: he personally oversee Walther’s and Hagen’s education, and lets his wife Ospirin in charge of Hildegund’s. Walther and Hagen eventually become first men in Attila’s army, while Hildegund is made the steward in charge of all his treasures. In the years they spend together, Attila and Ospirin grow to love them all dearly, Hagen and Walther become the best of friends, and the love between Walther and Hildegund grows.
Things abruptly change when Gibicho dies and Gunther take the throne, dissolves the treaty with the Huns and refuses to keep paying the tribute. Fearing for his life, Hagen flees back to the land of the Franks. After discovering this, Ospirin fears Walther will want to leave, too, which would diminish the strength of Attila’s army. So, she tells her husband he should convince him to marry the daughter of one of his Hunnish vassals to tie him to their court forever. Walther, however, refuses this proposal, saying he wants to concentrate on serving Attila in his army and that having a wife and children would only distract him from his military duties. Having said this, he leaves to go suppress a foreign king’s rebellion.
When he comes back, he finds Hildegund and declares his love to her, but apparently, the maiden has heard of his earlier rejection of marriage, and so doesn’t believe his feelings are sincere. Walther reassures her of his honesty and reveals that he wants to flee to his homeland with her, and that in truth, the thought of leaving her alone in Pannonia is the only reason he hasn’t run away already. The two lovers then concoct a plan: Hildegund will use her access to the treasure to steal the king’s gold, while Walther will prepare a feast for the whole court and make everyone drink until they pass out, and then they will escape together, unnoticed and full of riches.
The plan works and the couple do leave Pannonia unscathed, because even after the wine wears off and Attila comes to his senses and tries to send his warriors after them, everyone is too afraid of Walther to run after him and challenge him. Eventually, Walther and Hildegund come to the valley of Wasgenstein (also called Vosges), where they set camp and rest for a while. Meanwhile in Worms, not far from there, Gunther and his court hear news of the arrival of two mysterious travelers. Hagen immediately recognizes his old friends and is overjoyed. The king rejoices, too, but only at the thought of challenging Walther and taking his gold, which he sees as a repayment for the tribute the Franks once paid to the Huns. Despite Hagen’s pleas and warnings about Walther’s strength, Gunther orders twelve of his men to come with him to fight him. Hagen, too, is forced to follow him. Once they reach Wasgenstein and Gunther refuses Walther’s initial offers of peace, though, he distances himself from the other knights and refuses to fight.
Walther fights the Frankish warriors and defeats them all, one after the other, until Hagen’s nephew Patavrid challenges him, too, despite his uncle begging him not to. Walther initially refuses to fight the youth, understanding that his friend holds him dear, but Patavrid still insists on attacking him and accidentally almost wounds Hildegund, so in the end Walther’s forced to kill him.
Eventually, of the twelve Franks who came to Wasgenstein, only Gunther and Hagen are left alive. After much pleading, promises of generous rewards and insults to his manhood and martial prowess, Gunther finally manages to persuade his vassal to fight by his side. Together, they ambush Walther and attack him, and despite Walther’s pleas for Hagen to remember their friendship, the fight resumes. The ending is a bittersweet one: Walther cuts off Gunther’s leg, Hagen cuts off Walther’s hand, and Walther pokes out Hagen’s eye, but after this, they all finally stop fighting, and Walther and Hagen even start joking together about the situation, the way they used to in Pannonia, while Hildegund pours wine for them. After the friendship between the two warriors is repaired, Hagen and Gunther go back to Worms, while Walther and Hildegund resumes the journey towards Aquitaine, where they’ll marry and one day rule for thirty years after the death of Walther’s father.
 Now, the reasons why Walther/Hildegund/Hagen is, like, the best OT3 ever:
- They were all taken away from their families and homelands at a young age and raised together. Stuff like that’s likely to make people grow very close. Especially if you consider that, while Attila appears to have lots of vassals of Germanic origins living at his court in other poems, he seems to only have Hunnish warriors by his side in this one. And even if he did German vassals off-screen, they probably wouldn’t be in his hostages’ age range anyway, living them still quite isolated and likely to cling to each other.
- They’re all brilliant, gifted people. Growing up, Walther and Hagen “surpassed the brave in strength and the wise in wit, until soon they boldly excelled all the Huns” and “whenever [Attila] made a campaign, [they] sparkled amidst triumphal decorations”, while Hildegund “abundantly displayed her outstanding character and the industry of her works” and as a result “was but little short of ruling herself, for, whatever she wanted, she actually did”. Their position as, respectively, first men in the army and steward of the king’s treasure, are clearly both given “not undeservedly”. Acknowledging and appreciating each other’s qualities and virtues, they may all be drawn to each other.
- Walther and Hildegund clearly love each other. Walther can’t bear the thought of leaving Hildegund alone and always strives to protect her, and Hildegund is visibly upset when she doubts his feeling and intentions. Once reassured of Walther’s sincerity, the girl declares herself willing to follow him and support him no matter what he will do, even if his actions will cause her suffering.
- Walther and Hagen have some serious No Homo™ thing going on. Like, really. The Wasgenstein part of the poem, where Hildegund gets (sadly) sidelined to focus on all the loyalty conflicts and the fighting, looks more like a love triangle with Walther and Gunther competing for Hagen’s heart than anything else. There’s lots of talk about childhood games and promises, unbreakable bonds based on a “famous harmony” that “used always to remain in both war and peace, never knowing the traps of temptation” and apparently almost made the two youths forget all about their families and homelands, and other things like that. An example I personally find really shippy: when he attempts to convince Hagen not to fight him, Walther remembers how, during their recent farewell, Hagen “seemed hardly able to be pried away from [Walther’s] embrace”. Which seems quite an emotion-driven and risky thing to, as Hagen had to quickly escape in the middle of the night or risk being discovered and caught, and likely couldn’t afford to lose too much time. Oh, and right before saying this, Walther sees Gunther embracing and kissing Hagen to “comfort” him before the fight and feels “fear” at this sight. Which in the poet’s mind probably just means he fears the king and his vassals joining forces against him and becoming an actual threat to him, but a shipper can dream. Also, the ending with them joking about the mutilation they’ve inflicted on each other instead of hating each other forever is lovely.
- If random essays found on the internet aren’t lying to me, there are versions of the story where Walther wants to flee together with Hagen, but Hagen himself stops him, reminding him that he’s betrothed to Hildegund and that the maiden will be a fitting bride to him so he should treat her like an empress. Which, let’s face it, probably means Hagen likes Hildegund, at least platonically, and he totally ships her with Walther.
 How the story could work if it was written in a world run by the rules of the Triad Verse:
- In the original Waltharius, before being shipped off to Pannonia, Hildegund is supposed to “reside at her father's court and […] to enjoy the wealth collected there”, as she is the “heiress” to the kingdom of Burgundy. In this Triad version, this could mean Hildegund and Walther hadn’t yet been betrothed to the third member of their marriage at the time of the Hunnish invasion, which means Hildegund should have been able to live at her parent’s court for at least some more years and learn to manage its wealth, before being married off. Perhaps, Hildegund and Walther’s betrothal as a primer couple was initially born out of political necessity, but there wasn’t yet any real urgency to complete the triad and go on with the actual wedding. Or perhaps, Walther and Hildegund would have been allowed to search for a third together and discuss the matter between themselves as a primer couple, maybe as a way to prevent their parents meddling in and trying to find a third that would really be beneficial to only one of the families.
Their ideal third later turns out to be Hagen, of course, as they both fall in love with him in Pannonia.
- If I understand correctly, in ancient times in the Triad Verse, MFF triads were encouraged over MMF, so as to produce more heirs. This would be especially important for noble and royal families, having also a need to pass titles, lands and power to said heirs. Two wives also likely means two dowries given by the brides’ families to the groom’s families, and two noble or even royal brides’ dowries will consist of lands and various riches. Therefore, Hildegund’s and Walther’s parents probably wouldn’t be too happy to find out their children would actually prefer a MMF marriage.  
However, Christian theology actually encourages MMF marriages, as they are seen as a reflection of the holy triad of God/Mary/Joseph in everyday life. Now, Walther is a very Christian character, the kind of devout hero who first mercilessly slaughters enemy after enemy and then thanks God for allowing him to defeat them while also begging him to redeem their sins and allow them to find their way to Heaven. If there’s one character who would pull out that particular example to justify the validity of his relationship, that’s probably him.
Incidentally, Hagen is the kind of character who (in the Nibelungenlied) tries to drown a priest in an attempt to avert a prophecy and save his kings and comrades. So, it’s safe to assume that he’d put practicality over religious morality, and even over morality itself. The scene where he encourages Walther to stay with Hildegund instead of following him could be incorporated in the Triad Waltharius, but inserted at an earlier point in the text and reworked as a more complete discussion between Walther and Hagen. I can just imagine a young and love-struck Walther declaring that, as soon as their exile will end, he will do his best to persuade his and Hildegund’s parents to let them marry Hagen, only to have Hagen protest that Walther should look for a more advantageous MFF marriage for himself and especially for Hildegund and find a noblewoman who will be a fitting bride for them both. This would evolve into a discussion of pragmatism versus spirituality, and eventually Hildegund would have to do what many other Germanic and Norse women have done before her and step in between the two men as a mediator and peacemaker, as she would wish to marry Hagen too but wouldn’t want him and Walther being driven apart by a discussion over events which they may still not need to think about for years. Of course, this would also mean giving more speaking lines to Hildegund, who is a young lady with lots of sadly unexplored potential and who I love from the bottom of my heart. In short, it would be a win-win situation with lots of philosophical discussion, introspection and character development for everybody.
- Still on the subject of MMF marriages: parental consent aside, the marriage between Walther, Hagen and Hildegund could actually be a viable option. For a MMF marriage to work, at least in ancient times and then in more traditional (read: patriarchal) cultures, it needs a wife, a “lord” husband, and a “swain” husband. The swain husband should be weaker/more effeminate than the lord husband and be submissive to him. Hagen is not weak by any means, and I doubt anything about him could be described as “effeminate” in any traditional sense, and clearly is not “submissive” by any means in German tradition. He is a fierce warrior who strikes fear into his enemies and later on, in the Nibelungenlied, becomes a cunning and ruthless advisor to Gunther, with a vital role in his court. But he is still the son of a vassal, while Walther is the son of a king. So, Hagen is of lower social rank than Walther, and that must count for something, when it comes to the acceptability of their relationship.
I briefly wondered if Hagen’s father would be offended at the idea of what his presumably his first male child (I actually have some sort of headcanon about Patavrid’s mother being Hagen’s older sister, but that doesn’t really matter here) and heir ending up marrying as a swain husband. But, after all, he would still be married to a future king, which I’m sure wouldn’t be all too bad of a position.
- On a semi-unrelated side note, one of the things I love about Walther/Hildegund/Hagen in the Waltharius is how their relationship looks very unequal from all sides but is actually pretty well-balanced when you look deeper. When you look at it from a social point of view, Walther and Hagen are men while Hildegund is a woman, but then again Walther and Hildegund are the children of royalty while Hagen is only the son of a vassal. Seen in this light, their dynamic sound unbalanced. Growing up in Pannonia, though, Walther and Hagen become friends, treat each other as equals and obtain the same rank in Attila’s army, and Hildegund gets a very important position too when she is made “the steward to watch over all the king's treasure” and afforded the freedom and independence that goes with it. This makes it all sound more equal. Adding a possible lord/wife/swain dynamic to this would mean adding yet another layer to the pre-existing dynamic, making it even more interesting and complex.
- Now, for the part after Hagen’s escape (which would obviously include a tearful farewell to both Walther and Hildegund, this time). Attila himself would have two wives, who I think should be the Ospirin of the Waltharius and the Helke/Herke of other Germanic traditions, and these two very wise and cunning wives (because of course they would be) would first consult between themselves, fearing Walther and Hildegund could flee to the Franks to reunite with their lover, before bringing the matter to their husband. Attila’s attempts to give Walther a Hunnish bride would become attempts to convince him to add a Hunnish lady as a third to his primary couple (as a substitute to Hagen and the possible but disadvantageous marriage with him), and Walther’s refusal would become a refusal to give his complete attention to two women and a serious, complete relationship. Hildegund would be upset about Walther denying her, possibly forever, the chance to experience the complete happiness of a full marriage, and without even bothering to ask her how she feels about their recently-failed relationship with Hagen or their status as a newly-incomplete couple.
- Hagen’s inner conflict between loyalty to his friend and loyalty to his king, one of the main themes of the original poem, would turn into a conflict between love and duty/social obligations. Gunther would be read by scholars not only as a greedy king but also as alternatively an immature youth still unable to fully understand the love of a triad or a selfish suitor trying to separate Hagen from his lover to have him all for himself. The last fight scenes would be even more intense and heartbreaking, as would be the death of Hagen’s relative Patavrid at the hand of his lover Walther.
- Hagen losing an eye could be read symbolically by later commentators as punishment for his decision to blind himself to the love he still feels for Walther and Hildegund. Walther would lose his hand as punishment for raising it to strike his almost- swain husband. Gunther would lose his leg for daring to step in between an established triad and ruin their relationship. Many scholars would probably read the poem as a cautionary tale meant to warn readers not to prefer MMF triads over MFF triads, but others would think it’s actually about how social duty should take a step back when it risks endangering a triad’s bond.
- The last scene, with Hildegund pouring wine for Walther and Hagen, would become a mirror to the earlier scene where she offers a cup to Walther and he makes the sign of the cross over it as a way to renew their betrothal’s promises. Walther telling her “"Now mix wine and offer it first to Hagen” would not be meant as a half-compliment half-jest as it is in our Waltharius (in it, Walther motivates it by saying “He is a good athlete, provided that he keeps his pledge”), but rather as a symbolic way to complete the couple’s bond to Hagen before they’re forced to separate themselves from him yet again, this time forever. Of course, Hildegund would then skip offering the cup to Gunther, too, but after all, she is never actually shown doing that in the text.
- Other German poems dealing with the Burgunds/Nibelungs or even the general concept of triadic love would likely refer back to the Waltharius as either an earlier source to draw on or a model to follow or deconstruct.
- In the Nibelungenlied, instead of taunting Hagen about not being brave enough to fight Walther, Hildebrand could remind him (and the poet’s audience) of the events at Wasgenstein by accusing him of being unfaithful and dishonest to his lover.
- In the Rosengarten zu Worms, where several knights come to Worms to fight each other in hopes of earning a kiss from Gunther’s sister Kriemhild or one of her ladies in waiting, Walther could renounce the promised reward and ask instead for a kiss form his older lover Hagen, if he should win his duel.
In conclusion, I personally this story would be perfect for a Triad Verse - style reworking.
Now... time to find other Medieval material that could work just as well...
*squints in Arthuriana’s general direction*
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