...

Large crowds gathered around town square as a commotion stirred in the center of the plaza. The sound of a horse's hooves strolling through the center of town would not normally attract such attention, but it was the rider and the legacy that he carried which soon aroused those around him. What started as one or two commoners gazing in disbelief soon gave way to shouts and yells to alert the town of their new visitor. Soon a massive crowd corralled around one another as men and women peered over the shoulders of those in front of them. Some even tried to jump up and down a few times to catch a glimpse of the legendary hero they had heard sweep through the lands, fighting for the future itself. Meanwhile, children climbed on top of the branches to the lone oak tree dotted in the center of the desert kingdom as an effort to get a better angle.

With so many people crowded together, it made the blazing sun seem that much more brutal. The sweat and stench of a large crowd that lived on meager means compounding to what was already a horrid day in the middle of a dry summer. However, no one there would have noticed or cared if they had. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. A chance to see someone who became a household name in Plegia. Perhaps even one of the most beloved icons of the country since he nearly lost his life fighting on their soil.

It was strange in a way. No one knew much about him, or where he came from. Truth be told, even his closest confidants would be hard pressed to give much history or background. They too only knew him recently from the wars, and the more they got to know him, the more apparent it was that he held a past more mysterious than what first might have let on. However, it was not because of secretiveness, or any attempts to cover up the life he used to lead. In truth, he was very open and willing to share his past to those that would lend an ear. The problem was that there was simply too much to tell, and he himself was not the most gifted storyteller. However, that was part of the appeal. He was someone you could laugh at with in a bar for an hour or two, mumbling out jokes before passing out drunk. The wealth you held or the class you belonged to were unimportant as long as you had an ear to listen or a snarky joke to add to the conversation. Rumors even spread that the last quip someone made to him was what encouraged him to come to town today. Of course, rumors are just that, and hundreds of them circulated around the crowd while the man glanced back at his captive audience.

Despite the temperature, there was a chill in the air. The pure silence shrouding one of the busiest marketplaces in the country. One of the few areas that had been restored since the chaos that came with the Grimleal summoning their demon. Validar and his men came at a time when the country was straining as it desperately tried to heal from a decade of death and suffering. A decade of pain and loss, and a decade of poor leadership. Plegia had been torn in two, sown back up, and then crushed under the weight of its own collapse. Any semblance of dignity or pride had bled itself into the sand long ago. Recently, as traders carried about their day the idea of hope itself was a rare commodity that few seemed to have an offer for. Not even the local swindlers were able to peddle a fake bottle of joy. To make matters worse there was a power play for the vacant throne between the nobles and aristocrats. There was news each day about a noble claiming to be related 1/16th by blood to Gangrel or the king before him. Nonetheless, there was another rumor that had made its way to the blighted capital less than a week ago, but it was just a rumor after all. Surely it couldn't be?

...

"It has been too long." A loud gruff voice pierced the silence as he gazed at the rubble of an old building to his left. The eyes of the crowd widened as they had not been expecting him to speak. He had considered dismounting his horse, but he feared that those around him would not be able to see him otherwise. Although he would have preferred it that way. Despite his rough and callous exterior, the mere thought of so many people watching him made him nervous and blush. This was not his element, and despite his brashness, he was closer to modesty than many would believe. Despite all this, he would try. He had too after all, because who else would?

"Far too long." A woman remarked in the crowd, seeming to understand the unspoken sentiment. Those around her nodding slightly as they looked at the ruins of the Ylissean embassy. It was a ten-year-old pile of rubble that resembled the relations between the desert people and their neighbors. A relation that only began to improve after Emmeryn's sacrifice.

Sighing, the man gave a passing look to the gates of the city knowing he still had an opportunity to retreat. The grip of the leather reins in his hands tightened as he felt his resolve waver. It wouldn't work he reasoned. He was not the person that was supposed to be here. He was no Chrom, and certainly no Robin. He did not possess a background to lead others. He stuttered, he was inexperienced, born in a foreign land, and he seemed foolish to those that did not know him well. Certainly the number of reasons he did not belong here extended far past the crowd of people around him.

"Mister?"

In that moment, he looked down to see a boy gazing at him with fear as his voice trembled. The young man was conflicted himself, just like the man he looked up to on the mount. Nonetheless, the child spoke with the courage to ask a question that no one else in the crowd dared to asked, because they could no longer risk seeing their dreams crushed anymore.

"Are the rumors true?" The boy asked, a fading glimpse of hope in his voice. An innocence in his eyes that many thought had been lost long ago.

It wouldn't work. The words echoed in his mind again while his eyes examined the fearful crowd. With his heart as big as a whale he felt obligated to step forward, to offer himself as a choice. Yet what other qualities did he have to offer? What good could passion provide when he could not speak the right way, or follow the proper etiquette? He was a man who many saw as bizarre and crude. Above all else, he was a fool.

Yet, his tongue made its decision before his mind could stop him.

"Aye! They are true!" He yelled with a strong and commanding tone that echoed through the town.

In response the crowd gasped, a collective look of disbelief as some held their heart to their chest. Many whispered among themselves in hushed tones to confirm their ears had not deceived them.

"As many know, Plegia's king was consumed by deep darkness. Validar was like a viper ready to bite with sharp fangs on the hearts of those he did not care for."

An ominous hush fell over the people as they lowered they heads not wanting to recall his rule.

"Oy! But he is dead now. Sleeping underneath the sand in a warm place. Yet Validar left the seat to throne without an heir." The man cried, finding the nervousness in his chest grow. He was deeply afraid that he was not speaking clearly enough, but he gathered his strength to make his announcement.

"That is why-" He paused, one last time while clutching his hands and inhaling the air around him in one deep breath. "That is why Gregor has something to tell you all today. Gregor has seen the pain that many have faced. The pain and desperation of fighting the insurmountable while few offered help in darkest of times. Yet! Gregor sees many beautiful things in Plegia despite struggles. Gregor sees many proud people whom work hard to survive, fight for those that cannot, and love those they know not. Indeed, Gregor is inspired by the hope and strength of Plegian people, and it is time to unshackle the great weight of old that plagues the country like nasty stomach virus which causes diarrhea.

Pledging his hand to his heart and looking at those around him, the ex-mercenary said with a strong call, "Gregor painfully remembers the time slavers tried to harm someone they thought was but a young girl, and Gregor mourns those that were not able to be saved in wars. Which is why things must be changed for the better. And better they will be because the strength and courage of Plegia's citizens knows no bounds. Gregor has seen it first hand while traveling this country both recently and in years past. With the opportunity to succeed this country will thrive as if it were a fierce saber tooth tiger roaring into the sky.

"But as a bumbling old soul, Gregor can think of a hundred reasons not to be the one to lead this country out of dark times. However, Gregor would like to try. If people of this wonderful nation will give this wandering drunkard a chance, then Gregor promises not to disappoint. Which is why my foolish self comes here today to ask for the support to claim the throne. Gregor does not possess the birthright, or the brains, or the experience to run a country, yet Gregor promises to use all of his heart and soul to steer Plegia into a more shiny future. With help, the vacancy to the throne will be filled with someone looking to reverse a decade of sad memories and bleak outlooks. To bring peace to all those who have not experienced such luxury in over a generation, and to restore the wounds caused by a poorly helmed ship."

...

Gathering his breath Gregor looked towards his audience, wondering if his words had any effect. To the man's disappointment the crowd was still silent, neither showing any emotion or reaction from his words. They seemed a little confused, but mostly indifferent. He had expected this of course, but the red-headed old man wanted to believe he could help the country when he traveled to the capital. Nonetheless he internally resigned his ambitions as the crowd kept its silent stare.

"Nyha ha ha" A hidden voice came up from behind him with one of the most nerve-racking laugh that anyone ever heard. As the crowd thinned around the noise of the newcomer, you could see that the figure in question had snow white hair and a sinister grin on his face that only a man raised by wolves could wear. As he approached with what appeared to be an increasing curiosity, his grin widened and said. "Wat'cha doing Gregor?

"Oy!" Gregor said surprised seeing his friend Henry. It had not been long since they last fought together, but still seeing a comrade in arms was always a pleasant surprise. "Gregor was trying to inspire people of country to let Gregor be their leader."

"He he he." Henry gleamed "Why would you wanna help these people when you could help me see how much blood I can lose before I pass out?"

After working with Henry as part of the shepherds, he had gotten use to such banter, but others in the crowd seemed horrified at such a thought. "Gregor believes he owes a debt to the people. Gregor had to fight many warriors on the battlefield to see that the world was protected, and wishes to make up to the families that were torn apart because of those actions. It also makes Gregor weep to think that those fighting to rule kingdom do not care for country."

"So why not just seize the throne?" Henry asked nonchalantly "I'll help you kill the guards, you'll help me rip off their thumbs."

"No." He shook his head and said firmly, "Gregor does not wish to cause anymore bloodshed or fighting. Too much of that has happened already. The sands have been stained red enough to be confused with clay."

"Alright then, I guess I'll help you claim the throne the boring way." Henry sighed for a moment before perking up to his cheerful demeanor.

The mercenary raised his eyebrows skeptically and said, "You will help Gregor?"

"Of course. I've been soooo bored ever since the war ended." The mage complained oblivious to the hundreds of people around him. "Besides my wife has been full nag nag nag mode. I'm surprised her tonsils haven't dried out from all the nagging, which would be cool to see, but it isn't worth all the effort. If I wanted my ears to bleed I would have just jabbed a knife in them."

"Henry should have more respect for wife." Gregor said crossing his arms.

"Oh I do." The crazy mage reassured, "But you should hear her talk. She rambles on about trivial stuff like finding a place to live, or our plans for the future. It's so boring sometimes. I just had to escape for a moment, and now that I am here I can help you with your quest. So tell me, what's your plan?" The white mage said with ever growing interest.

"Oh, well. Gregor was hoping that strong words would be enough to persuade public, but it seems like effort ended in failure." He said depressed.

Henry then turned around to see the large crowd of people watching the two of them talk. The fact that they were still around led the mage to believe that he had struck some chord in them, but he hadn't hit it home. "Greetings ladies and gentlemen." The mage respectfully bowed as he changed his posture to be more stoic. "I don't suppose Gregor mentioned to you how he has saved my life on multiple occasions?"

"Henry there is no need to be mentioning that!" Gregor quickly warned, but was surprised to see the sudden reaction from the crowd. Henry was-well known as one of the strongest mages to ever come from Plegia. The Raven of the Night was thought to be invincible because he could bleed endlessly but never succumb. His ravenous quest for blood was thought to be an effort to recover what he had lost in countless battles from his wounds.

"Did I also mention how he saved Robin, the Great Tactician of Yllisee, life by his quick thinking and resourcefulness. Or the time he clashed with Basilio in Regna Ferox as a worthy challenger beyond compare!" Henry gallantly cried. What Gregor did not know was that Henry liked things he considered bizarre, and Gregor's past was no exception. So the sadistic sorcerer made a point to learn more about him during their journeys. "No, perhaps he failed to mention how he protected a young wyvern's life from being poached, or when he risked his life to protect a young child from human trafficking. Nyha ha ha, this my friends are only some of Gregor's accomplishments that have earned him such high regard among the valiant shepherds!"

The chatter among the crowd rose as Henry climbed on Gregor's horse and then climbed on top of Gregor's shoulders. Gregor tried to stop him, but Henry propelled himself up using dark magic so that he was standing on Gregor's broad shoulders with effortless balance. "You see, when it comes to actions and deeds, I can think of no one greater than Gregor himself! How many other heroes do you know that took the name of their dead brother in order to honor their legacy? How many other great men do you know that faced the vile Grima without fear as he plunged his mighty sword into beast's throat, leading the god of enternal darkness to howl in unbearable agony!"

"Uh, Henry, there is no need to be making up stories." Gregor warned fearing this was getting out of hand.

"He he he and modest above all else!" Henry cried to the audience with a devilish gleam in his eyes. "A man who doesn't boast about the legendary accomplishments that earned him people's deepest respect. A true warrior whose feet have touched the soil of many lands. Years of experience fighting for the common man with a big heart and a refreshing grin that has captured the hearts of many women. The question you must ask yourself is who else would you want to lead this country? Who else possesses such skills necessary to rule?"

"Er, Henry you should really stop, you are making Gregor blush."

"I can think of none!" Henry called out adamantly while grinning manically the whole way. "So I ask that by looking at my friend's actions and his words you see that there is no other choice! In fact you would have to be caw-razy to think of anyone else. Tee he he" Henry joked with pride that he was able to get in his trademarked puns.

And to Gregor's dismay, the crowd around him had begun an open discussion of the question. The eyes that looked back at him were inspecting his character, but perhaps it was the other way around in a sense, because they only ever glanced for a moment before turning to the next person in the crowd to see how they felt. Lost in the chaos was that the crowd had actually grown larger, and that the glowing testimony Henry gave was now being relayed to those further back in the crowd that were not able to hear from such a far distance away.

"Mister, I don't understand. What can we do?" The boy looked up at the gentle giant in confusion. No one had ever called to them in the city streets asking for help. The only time anyone ever had an announcement to make was to sell something or watch the execution of a former servant to the king.

"You can do many great things!" Gregor said warmly as if to answer a different question. He did not understand that this process was foreign to the Plegian people. In Ylisse birthright was not enough, and the king or queen was selected only when they were considered wise enough to lead. Valm and Regna Ferox required the strongest warrior to lead them. Virion's home of Rosanne required the shrewdest duke to balance its place in the world while surrounded by much stronger countries. Say'ri's homeland also had a strict set of rituals and passage rights. None of this was the case with Plegia. There was no formal tradition, and usually the new king was the assassin of the last. Even the notion that the king served its people was a foreign concept to the citizens who had never seen their rulers care for their well-being.

"I'll tell you what you can do!" Henry beamed as another thought crossed his mind that made him giggle with excitement. "We can all form an angry mob!"

"Oy!" Gregor said in horror. "No, no, no. Gregor does not want any more violence!"

Not to be undeterred by his words, Henry cried, "We can form a peaceful angry mob!"

A/n

Something important to note is that this a stand alone story that takes place in the same world as Bed Time Story. So while you do not need to know anything from this story's predecessor, there will be minor things like parings and some events that tie into it.