Hello and welcome to my very first fanfiction EVER (a bit nervous about posting). I've been mighty bored lately, so I've decided to give writing a shot for fun. This was done for the 20 Fantasy prompt challenge, this one: #4. Fate. It was supposed to be a short drabble, but it turned into this by the end. Not what I had planned. I blame my 100+ hours of The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion gameplay, as a lot of my inspiration for this fic came from that, you can probably tell.
I'm thinking, for every prompt, I'll write a short chapter of their adventure with a snippet of Arthur's journal at the end of each.
(Rated T for future chapters, it may or may not be bumped up to M; depends on whether or not I feel comfortable writing porn. Haha.)
Pairings: USUK (for now, later on I may add more, but still USUK will be the main pairing.) It can be seen as friendship only at this point, but it will progress into something more in later chapters.
Disclaimer: Oblivion does not belong to me, and neither does Hetalia.
Alfred F. Jones did not believe in things such as fate, the Gods, birth signs, alignments; all of it was merely silly nonsense to him. The village where he was born and raised never once worshipped or prayed to the Gods and Goddesses above. They believed that if you wanted something, dreamed of something- you would work for it, fight for it, until it was yours. Nothing was ever the cause of an angry God, a happy Goddess, or fate. Everything just happened; no explanation was needed. When young boys came of age, they were taught everything about weapons and hunting to survive. Nirgvira was a village of excellent warriors.
However, this was the mindset of Alfred before he met one Arthur Kirkland. A Light Elf mage, from the Imperial City of Aendonal, who had been raised with completely opposite beliefs.
The two sat in a small tent off the side of the main road in a clearing concealed by forests. Alfred had suggested they stay out of sight from the roads, in case of a passing bandit. Not that it much mattered, the way Arthur was fiddling around with the new lute he'd managed to spend half their gold on in the last village they'd last passed through. It would alert anyone to their presence. Alfred choose not to say anything, as Arthur seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He had to admit, though, that merchant was a damn good one, the way he convinced Arthur (Arthur) to waste their hard earned gold on a useless instrument.
Exhaustion finally catching up with him, Alfred laid down and silently listened to the steady stream of notes. Arthur was far from skilled, but you would never believe he had not once held a Lute before now. Although, that did not surprise Alfred, he knew Arthur was a quick learner.
Alfred became lost in his thoughts as he watched the fingers moving gracefully across the instrument's strings, it was almost mesmerizing. He thought back to the night before, when he had a quick read of one of Arthur's books he had found amongst his belongings; a book about the stars.
"What's my birth sign?" he blurted, eyes still on Arthur's pale fingers.
Arthur hit a stray note and ceased his playing, one hand placed flat against the strings to silence them. "Hmm? What brought on this question all of a sudden?" he asked, looking across the tent at the blue-eyed man. "I thought you didn't believe in such things?"
Alfred looked up from Arthur's hands and met his curious green-eyes. "I don't know," he said. "I got bored the other night and had a look through one of your books; it was about the stars."
Arthur immediately frowned. "And who gave you permission to go through my belongings? Don't do it again!" he scolded.
Alfred thought he caught a glimpse of embarrassment and worry flash across Arthur's face momentarily. He'd leave out the fact that he had also found Arthur's journal alongside the many herbs and spellbooks.
"It was only one book, Art. Don't worry." he assured.
"Still, don't do that again." His frown faded. "Now, what did you want to know about birth signs?" He looked down at the instrument in his hands, as if he were eager to begin playing again.
"I wanted to know what sign I was born under," he said. His expression then turned thoughtful, as he shifted to a more comfortable position. "The Mage was circled in that book. Is that yours? If so, it really does fit you."
Arthur's attention was now fully on him, instrument forgotten. "Oh, yes. It does, doesn't it? Intelligent, skilled with magic..." he started, passionately.
"Arrogant, absent-minded..." Alfred added.
Arthur looked completely unamused. "What season were you born in, then?" he questioned.
Alfred thought for a moment. "Uhh... Last Seed?"
"The Warrior." Arthur replied, suddenly. "Not surprising. It fits you; an irrational brute." He then placed his hands in position on the Lute and began plucking away at the strings once again, signaling that there was no more to be said.
"Okay, how about the more positive traits, Arthur?" Alfred chuckled.
With his concentration purely on the strings beneath his fingers, he answered, not once pausing during the melody he had begun playing. "He is strong, skilled with weapons of all sorts, righteous, a born warrior. Here cometh the beginning of Last Seed, with it arrives the Harvest; this the Gods do guarantee. It is during this time, the strength of The Warrior, the people do need. Beside him are his charges: The Lord, Lady, and his loyal Steed."
Alfred lazily clapped his hands. "Have you ever thought of becoming a Bard?" he asked, amused.
Arthur snorted and mock bowed. "If you wish to know more, I'd suggest actually reading the book. It could do you some good; reading."
The two males continued lazing around the tent until the sun set, casting its orange and pink hue across the sky. When night followed, Arthur doused the magical flames that lit the tent with a mystical green light and the two drifted off into a much needed slumber. For tomorrow would be when they would once again set off.
When the sun began to gradually rise, Alfred slowly opened his eyes and stretched. He looked around the tent to make sure everything was okay, and his eyes landed on Arthur's peacefully sleeping form. He was curled around the Lute, holding it against his chest. Alfred smiled at the sight.
Morndas, Morning Star 11, 3e433
In my travels, I came across an interesting young man by the name of Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. He is kind and I sense a great sincerity from within him. He insisted we travel together; I foolishly accepted. I do fear travelling alone now that there have been more sightings of creatures along the roads, but more than that I fear loneliness.
Arthur Kirkland
Sundas, First Seed 21, 3e433
Alfred is a great man. He is so kind to me, he has helped me so much, done so much for me, even risked his life for me! I feel as if I do not deserve any of it. These last couple of months travelling alongside him have without a doubt been the best days of my life.
I believe that the Gods have brought us together. Meeting Alfred in that tavern was certainly the work of the lady Fate and I would not have it any other way.
With this, my prayers have finally been answered. Loneliness, my good friend, you are but a stranger to me now.
Arthur Kirkland
Naughty Alfred took a peek into Arthur's journal~ So, can you guess what Nirgvira and Aendonoal stand for? ...It's quite obvious.
Morning Star = January
First Seed = March
Thanks for reading! Reviews are very much appreciated.