I do not own the fate series, this is an AU.

"Brave king of knights, you are the one who saved Britain. You are my shining star. My king, My liege...No, this time, I will return the sword to you." Bedivere stated as he then placed the golden sword into his king's hands, as then a bright light shone from where the blade and hands touched.

The Lion King gave him a confused look, before her eyes then widened in realization. A slight bit of the humanity that was utterly devoid within her eyes seemed to return for a few seconds.

"I see...I finally remember. That forest. That hill. The face of the crying knight who watched over me to the end. Did you wander all these years out of regret of what happened?"

Bedivere could only manage a slow nod, as he felt himself crumbling into dust. "Yes, milord." The Lion King gazed at him. "Well done...You are my last, and most loyal knight. The sacred sword has been returned. Be proud, Bedivere. You have truly...fulfilled the order of your king."

He wanted to reply to his king, but his knees gave out, as he collapsed, breaking into dust before he could even say anything. Yet, he still managed a sad, yet satisfied smile on his face.

"I will serve you to the end and beyond, my King."

Brrrrringgg! Bedivere woke up to his alarm clock ringing right in his ears. "Why..." a questioning look was fixed onto his face, as he pondered about the dream he just had.

Why do I keep getting the same dream...on and on again? He wondered what that was about, with a tear coming to his eyes for a reason he had no idea of. "Why does it seem so sad?"

Walking to the bathroom, he then looked over at the silver-white clothes that he often wore. Taking them in his hand, he tucked them on, before grabbing his backpack, and then heading out the door.

After a quick breakfast, he grabbed the car keys, then yelled, "Mom, I'll be taking the smaller car!" "Take care!" "I will!" Bedivere then rushed to the car, before then opening the door and driving out of his neighborhood.

Today for him was Monday, the first day of the second week of high school. Being a junior, he had recently transferred schools as his family had recently transferred their business HQs to another firm, thus needed to move from Britain to the U.S.

He could consider himself rather lucky. As he and his entire family had already registered himself as citizens in the U.S. much earlier than now, entering was not much of a problem, even more so that they had already had a house prepared in the U.S.

He was grateful, but at the same time, he was ambivalent about it, preferring not to spend so much time thinking about it. Parking in the school's parking lot, he then opened his door to the school that he was somewhat familiar with, but still lacked complete understanding of.

The school in question was Avalon high school, a school in the state of California. "Bedivere! Hurry up, dude!" a vaguely familiar voice sounded, as he then spun his head in the direction of the one calling. "Ah, right." Bedivere said, before he then followed Gawain's sprint towards the school's entrance, then into the hallway.

"Halt!" A loud voice resounded across the hallway. Both Gawain and Bedivere stopped with the sound of a strict, piercing voice right behind them. "What the hell are you doing, Gawain?! Running in the hallways like that?! Bedivere, you weren't running, get to your class already."

Bedivere gave a silent nod, as he left Gawain to be scolded by his younger brother, Agravain. From what he had heard, Agravain was a long-time member of the high school student council, and enforced the rules quite vehemently.

"Agravain, I have classes! Lemme go!" Gawain yelled at his younger brother, who held him by the collar of his shirt, keeping him from getting away. "If you have classes, you should've woken up earlier, saving you the need to run! Even Gareth and Gary came earlier than you!"

With their conversation fading from Bedivere's ears, he then entered his homeroom, 11K. "Hey, Bedivere." Someone poked at his shoulder. He looked over. "Oh? I'm really sorry...but who are you exactly again?" he asked.

A book was then slammed into his head. "You dullard!" the person screeched. "How dare you forget about me!" Bedivere scratched his head. "I'm really sorry, but beating my head isn't going to solve matters. Besides, why did you do that? And...who are you?"

"I'm Mordred. I did that since you're a idiot." Mordred folded her arms. Bedivere shrugged. "Alright, Mordred. Well, I'd like to point out that you used 'a' instead of 'an.'" Mordred rolled her eyes. "You're such a grammar Nazi!" she exclaimed loudly.

"Enough, Mordred. Not everybody needs to hear you." a feminine voice in the front spoke, then Mordred obeyed her. Bedivere raised his eyebrows with interest, but said nothing. Apparently Mordred listened to her. Apparently he didn't notice that during the first week. Well, better late than never.

"But anyway, you going to the basketball team tryouts or not?" Mordred whispered to Bedivere. Bedivere nodded. "I suppose I will." Mordred laid back. "I'll enjoy beating the shit out of you with your skinny arms!"

Bedivere didn't have skinny arms, but he didn't bother to correct Mordred in this situation. Instead, he said, "Well, I do wonder how that's possible. After all, isn't there a girls basketball team and a boys basketball team?"

"I'm not a girl, goddamnit!" Mordred yelled at him. Bedivere pointed at her, before pulling her student ID card from her jacket's pocket. "I think your student ID and your ponytail seem to disagree." he replied to her.

"My ID is a liar!" Mordred protested, and Bedivere nodded understandingly. "Well, alright, Mr. Mordred, I'll do as you-" "How dare you call me a boy!" Mordred screeched, as Bedivere sighed as the bell rung, signaling them to head to their tags.

"I'm just going to ignore her from now on." Bedivere muttered to himself. "She's quite annoying, isn't she?" a voice besides him said. Bedivere glanced over. "Tristan, isn't it?" hoping that he had gotten the red-haired boy's name correct.

"Yes, that is my name. Bedivere, right?" Tristan said to him, his eyes seemingly perpetually closed. "Yes. We...share the next class, AP Environmental Science, correct?" Bedivere asked the other junior. "Yes...I hope you have something in mind. After all, Mr. Vorty is quite the boring, yet picky teacher." Tristan murmured.

Bedivere and his classmate entered the classroom, as the entire classroom began to listen to Mr. Vorty rant on and on about global warming, polar bears, and pollution. "Tristan...so, I heard from other classmates that you were on last year's basketball team, correct?"

"Yeah, I was." Tristan said as he still kept the same serene expression, his eyes closed. "Are you interested?" He asked his silver-haired classmate. Bedivere sighed. "Well, I suppose you'd say that I'm interested...do you have any tips?"

Tristan folded his arms and rested on the table, before turning to seemingly look at him, as his eyes were still closed. "Just do your best, Bedivere. That's all I can say, since I did that as well." Bedivere nodded silently, before then asking him after a few moments had passed.

"What would you specialize in, Tristan?" This got Tristan thinking for a few seconds, before he answered. "I'd say that I specialize in free throws. I'm quite adept at aiming the ball and scoring from far distances." Bedivere frowned. "...even with your eyes closed?"

"They aren't closed, Bedivere. They're just rather small." Bedivere looked at his eyes, but no matter what, he just seemed to be always closing his eyes. "...I'll take that, then." Tristan then rested his upper body back on the table. "I'd like to see you enter the team if you can."

Before Bedivere could say a word of gratitude, a loud roar resounded across the room. "TRISTAN!" Mr. Vorty grabbed the young man by the shirt, then hoisted him up. "DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE RULES?! NO SLEEPING!"

Tristan had a slight frown on his face. "Mr. Vorty, I wasn't sleeping." "That's bull! Then why the heck are your eyes closed?!" Tristan's frown then transformed into an understanding smile. "ah, I see you that you misunderstand as well. My eyes are not closed. They're just very small, so they seem to be closed."

"...How the heck does that work!? You will be sent to the principal's office if you keep on sleeping!" Tristan sighed. "I told you, I'm not sleeping. It's just your own imagination at this point." "Open your eyes!" "They already are." Tristan responded.

Mr. Vorty's voice kept endlessly beating in a futile attempt to try to shake Tristan, but that simply wasn't going to be the case. Bedivere shrugged, then began to take notes as he write down the details on the PPT that was projected onto the board.

"Fine, you wanna see my eyes?" Tristan's eyes opened, to give off a fear-inducing glare right at the roaring teacher. At that, Mr. Vorty stopped yelling. "Alright, then. Back to the subject at hand, class..."

Bedivere nudged his classmate. "So…wait, what exactly are you doing?" He looked over at Tristan, who was sketching the strings of a harp, before noticing his curious gaze. "Do you play the harp, Tristan?"

Tristan let out a small, serene, smile, but yet it still had a slight hint of warmth in it. "I suppose I do. It's just a bit heavy at times." Bedivere thought of Tristan sitting upon a chair, while letting the heavy instrument rest upon his shoulder, as he let his fingers flow across the instrument's strings.

"Have you ever gone to the school orchestra, Tristan?" Bedivere asked him. Tristan lay back a bit. "I would consider if they weren't so incompetent, and I also have the MMA club to dedicate myself to. Do you play an instrument, Bedivere?"

Bedivere nodded. "Yes, I play the violin quite well. MMA club…I think I signed up for that." He murmured, before placing a thoughtful look on his face. "So, you can both qualify for a team and then participate in a club?" Tristan nodded. "Yeah, that's possible, just hope that you have the time for both of them."

With that, the bell rung, and it was time for the students to head to their next classes. "Well, so Tristan, you're gonna be there for the basketball tryouts, right?" Tristan nodded. "Yeah, see you there."

"Bedivere!" a figure caught up to him, while Bedivere was running around the track. Bedivere couldn't comprehend how Gawain had already caught up a lap ahead of him, as fast as he himself had ran. Sure, Gawain had a bit of a head start, but Bedivere was no slouch either.

However, it just seemed that Gawain was just so much better than everyone at this point that even. "I yield, Gawain...can I call you Gorilla?" He groaned as he collapsed besides a few other students who had given out.

Gawain chuckled at the nickname. "I see you've already learnt about my nickname, eh? Sure, call me Gorilla if you want, I don't mind. For such a new student, you sure do learn things pretty fast." Bedivere scratched his head. "Thanks, I suppose. So, how did you get so fast?" Gawain scratched his head. "I'd suppose it might be my genetics."

Bedivere glanced at him. "I'm sorry to say this, but that sounds a bit like bull." Gawain shrugged. "I get that a lot. But I really don't have any better explanations that I can think of…" Bedivere's brow creased a bit. "Judging from what you just said, you don't really know how this is possible, right?"

Gawain shrugged. "Know it or not, the fact that I can do this is now pretty clear it by now." He replied, before stretching by pressing his hands against the back of his waist from behind. "So, you interested in anything?"

Bedivere shook his head. "They aren't really worth mentioning since they're not very interesting to me as for now." Gawain lay down besides him. "Hey, you ever heard of Arturia?"

Bedivere had a thoughtful look on his face, before he responded. "Maybe, but since there's so much to catch up on, I haven't paid so much attention." Gawain got up as he kicked a soccer ball towards Bedivere, who tried to catch it with his legs and missed, and it hit his chest instead, though it evoked little reaction.

"Well, Bedivere, I guess I'll let you find out yourself." Gawain said. Bedivere frowned. "…what's that supposed to mean?" Gawain chuckled, as he bounced the ball with his feet and head.

"Eh, nothing much."

"So…will I be facing one of the basketball team in order to get accepted?" Bedivere asked. Gawain pursed his lips a bit. "Well, that'll probably be the case. I suppose that the former members may get an advantage due to having much more experience working together and know the coach better."

"Who would I have to watch out for the most?" Bedivere wondered. "You?" Gawain laughed softly, before stopping. "You flatter me. Well, you'd have to watch out for me, but it'd be better if you watch out for Lancelot even more. It really depends on the day and mood for me in effectiveness on the court. He's far more consistent in terms of his effectiveness."

Bedivere kicked the soccer ball back to Gawain. "Good to know, then. See you at the tryouts."

Beeep! "Tryouts over! Y'all are dismissed!" the coach yelled as the tryouts ended. Bedivere resisted the urge to take off his jersey, as he knew that modesty was quite important in a setting like this. Glancing to the right, he could see Gawain, Tristan, the purple haired guy who was apparently Lancelot, talking to a couple of girls who had been watching the tryouts.

I suppose it's no surprise. They are pretty ripped, after all. I could barely keep up with Tristan, and I don't even want to think about Lancelot. Bedivere thought to himself, as he hurried over to where his locker was, opening it and reaching for his water bottle.

As he drank from it, he then noticed a girl sitting by the bench, all alone, in a white t-shirt and a blue skirt. Wondering if he should approach her, he decided it would be best if he first asked Gawain or Tristan about her.

"Hey, Tristan, Gawain!" Bedivere called as he ran over, as the two noticed him. Tristan waved, gesturing him to come over. "Lance. This's the guy Gawain and I've been talking about. You saw how he fared with me, right?"

Lancelot was a bit distracted with a girl he was talking to. Gawain was also enjoying the company of a girl, as he had his arm around her. Bedivere gave an awkward laugh as the two kept on talking, ignoring him.

"Are…they like this, Tristan? Are…you like this?" Bedivere asked the red-haired junior. Tristan shook his head. "Nay, I've only had eyes for my beloved, not this bimbo over here. In fact, I'm just only entertaining her so I don't hurt her feelings." Then his eyes opened in realization that he had just said that out loud.

The girl who had just been talking with Tristan slapped him in the face, before going off in a huff. Bedivere stood there with a presence of awkwardness as Tristan pulled out his phone and switched its camera on, to see if his face was terribly injured or not, before putting it back into his pocket.

"Ah, so, Bedivere…what have you come here for?" Tristan asked as the silver-haired teenager sat down beside him. Bedivere stretched himself, as he then turned his head towards him. "Alright, Tristan, I'm just going to be blunt and honest towards you. Do…you know that girl over there?"

Tristan's eyebrows were raised, but his eyes still didn't open. "Her name's Artoria, the older twin sister of Mordred, the girl who was bugging you this morning. She was the president of the MMA club last year, and she'll likely still be the president of the MMA club this year."

Bedivere raised his eyebrows. So she would most likely be his club president. "So...is she often alone like this?" Tristan held a comb to his hair, as he brushed it. "Depends. Sometimes Mordred hangs around her, sometimes she doesn't. She's somewhat well-liked, but she doesn't often laugh, and her seriousness kinda just turns people off. I won't deny that she's a good leader, though."

Kneading his hands, Bedivere turned towards Tristan. "Should I go talk to her? She seems a bit lonely…" Tristan had a bit of a soft smile on his face. "If you want to go, then go. She's not the most sociable, but I doubt she'd bite you."

"If you say so." Bedivere rose up, as he tied his loose shoelaces together. "Thanks, Tristan." Tristan hummed a melody, nodding as a sign of acknowledgement. Walking over, Bedivere then sat down next to the blond-haired girl.

"So…how're you doing? Is there anything I can help you with?" Bedivere said, as the blond girl noticed him. "I guess I'm doing fine, the tryouts really weren't as interesting as last year's…" She traced a star with her finger on thin air, before a small smile.

"I suppose you could help me by talking to me. There's still an hour before school ends, and there's really not much to do besides study, but since it's just the 2nd week, there's not much homework, so it'd be nice if you talked to me." She said, in a calm fashion and with an aura of mild seriousness.

"I'd be happy to." Bedivere replied. "So…if I remember correctly, your name's Artoria, right?" Artoria nodded. "Yeah, that's my name. Do we share a class? I feel like you're a bit familiar. Oh, and on a second thought, what's your name? Sorry for asking this late."

Bedivere nodded. "Yes, I think we share the same English class and History class. My name is Bedivere. It's nice to meet you, Artoria." Artoria gave him a smile that seemed slightly forced, but at the same time, still tried to be genuine. "It's nice to meet you too, Bedivere."

A moment of silence and acknowledgement was shared between the two, before Bedivere started talking once more. "So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you're interested in basketball, aren't you?" Artoria nodded. "Yeah. I just decided to stop by to see how the boys were doing, since the girls' tryouts are tomorrow."

She then noticed the ball that he was patting slightly. "Mind if I play with you?" Bedivere was about to say that he didn't mind, but then noticed her skirt. "Are you sure you're okay with it, with only your skirt?" Artoria looked down. "It's okay, I'm wearing pants underneath."

Getting up alongside Bedivere, Artoria could see that Bedivere was much taller than her by quite a few centimeters, but it didn't really bother her in any way. "Should we keep count of the scores?" Bedivere asked her. Artoria shrugged. "I'm fine with it."

Bedivere wondered if this was even fair, as she was much shorter than her, but he then let the thought brush aside. She had asked to play with him, after all. Guess Tristan was correct. She's doesn't laugh a lot. He thought in his head, before he began to dribble towards the hoop.

Artoria moved in front of his way, to block him from his path to the hoop. Noticing her movement, Bedivere faked a crossover to the right, before bursting towards the left, as he dribbled towards the hoop. However, within two steps, he realized that the ball wasn't returning to his hands, and he looked backwards to see Arturia dribbling the ball out of the 3rd line, before bursting towards him.

He blocked her path, as she faked a crossover to the right, then made a throw towards the hoop. However, Bedivere was just taller than her, as he then caught the ball and dribbled out of the 3rd point line.

Artoria bent her knees as she went after him. "Using your height to your advantage, Bedivere?" she said without any emotion in her eyes, with a focused expression. Bedivere shrugged. "If you're going to go for the girl's basketball team, I believe you can be able to find a way around my height."

He wasn't incorrect, she thought. She was shorter than him, but she knew that she herself was remarkably fast. She rubbed her hands, deciding to switch up her tactics a bit. After all, as I used to be on the girl's basketball team, I'm not exactly used to playing with people who were much taller than me.

However, that disadvantage that I have likely also applies in a different way to Bedivere, but in that he probably isn't used to playing against very short but fast people. Maybe I can use that to my advantage.

Artoria weaved past Bedivere, bringing the ball behind her back before sidestepping and turning her body around to match the ball. Bedivere moved to the right to try to intercept her, but she had already burst past him, before she then jumped up, and threw it into the hoop.

"That'll be 7 for me." Artoria said. Bedivere wiped his brow, before they passed the ball to each other, as he took the ball this time. As he looked at Artoria bursting towards him, he tossed the basketball right past her shoulder as she ran towards him, causing her to come to a stop, costing her a few precious seconds, before dribbling and tossing the basketball in.

"9 for me." Bedivere said, as he then took the ball to the center, before passing to Artoria. Artoria took it, before dribbling around the third point line, and then faked to the right, before going for the left.

At this point, Bedivere wasn't going to have such a familiar trick work on him, as he then stepped towards his right, blocking her pathway. Artoria's serious expression never changed, as she then jumped up, for a throw towards the hoop.

However, Bedivere then jumped up, knocking the ball from the air, before dribbling out from the third point, and then noticed that she had already caught up to him by now. Dribbling between his legs, he then prepared to burst into a run.

What he didn't account for was that his foot landed right on the basketball, and then he slipped, and fell face first right onto the floor, his arms positioned well enough to cover his face as he crashed onto the floor.

The ball bounced off as Artoria walked towards Bedivere, her mouth slowly forming a giggle, then she tried to hide her giggles with her hand. "Are you alright, Bedivere?" she asked as she helped him up, hoisting his right arm with her right hand, while her left hand covered her mouth.

Bedivere groaned as he propped himself up on a seat, stretching himself out. Artoria tried to suppress her giggles, looking at his entire dirtied and sweaty form. "Where does it hurt, Bedivere?"

Cracking and forcing a half-smile, Bedivere groaned, "My...everywhere." Laughter could be heard, as Mordred ran over. "That was FUCKING hilarious, Bedivere!" she yelled while laughing.

Artoria gave her a disapproving look. "Mordred, stop laughing. It's not nice." Mordred kept on laughing loudly, as her laughs filled the entire basketball court. "And you have the audacity to say that?! Sis, you're giggling as well!"

Artoria still again, tried to hide her smiles and giggles, before she then patted Mordred on the head, shocking her to the point that Mordred was almost frozen, paralyzed in place.

It was as if Mordred's mind had encountered a glitch, as the only thought that ran throughout her mind was: Sis pat me...Sis pat me...Sis pat me...Sis pat me... as her jaw dropped and her eyes seemed to be empty with shock. Her sister rarely showed any affection towards her, so such an action surprised her so much that it was like she'd turned into a statue.

"So...Bedivere, I think you really need some rest." Artoria started. Bedivere could only give a groan as a response. "Are you feeling better now?" She asked him. Bedivere propped himself up.

"Well, I think that'll be it for today. The bell's about to ring, I think it's about time to go home." he pointed towards the clock. Artoria looked at it. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" she asked, her face slowly fading from a humored smile to her normal, serious expression.

"No, nothing that I can think of now..." Bedivere murmured. A thought then came up to his mind. "You were the president of the MMA club, correct?" Artoria nodded slowly. "And your point is?"

"Well, see you at Wednesday afternoon, Artoria." Bedivere said as he packed his stuff up, and walked off, waving. Saber waved back, before dragging a still comatose Mordred with her.

Well, I suppose that ends the chapter there. I've checked for mistakes or any signs of OOC, but I don't know if I've caught all of them. If there are, please either review or PM me, do give all criticisms that you want.

But anyway, what do you think? Please review, I'd love to hear what you think and I'll try to reply to reviews in the next chapter.