Disclaimer: Who cares? Don't own this shit. Don't own any shit.

Warnings:

Essentially, the author of this story isn't the best author on this website, but he tries. He tries. Therefore, expect the following:

AU, heavily OOC, butchering of character's personalities and actions in order to fit the story, lack of knowledge on both Nasuverse and Narutoverse mechanics, twisted troll-logic, bad syntax and grammar, suspicious spelling, and complete and utter mangling of canon.

Enjoy. Viewer discretion is advised.

When Uzumaki Naruto goes to sleep, his dreams always began with the same scene.

An open grassy knoll, a green plain with a clear blue sky and a blazing yellow sun that radiated warmth and light and heat. This place was an endless peaceful landscape that smelled good and felt even better, and during his dreams, the young orphan could close his eyes and doze off on the grass contentedly.

After a while, the Knight appeared. It may take a while for her to appear, from minutes to what seemed like days, but that Knight always appeared on the endless grassy plain. A figure, dressed in blue, wearing silver armor, wielding a straight-edged sword of iridescent gold.

Naruto saw this sword, and it sang to him. It was a masterwork weapon, beyond compare, so perfect as to have been forged by inhuman hands. That golden sword sang to his soul, singing promises of Hope, Victory, Glory and Salvation. And there was the Knight. An armored figure, garbed in silver and royal blue, standing on a small hill, turned away from him.

Every time, the Knight in his dreams turns to face him.

Eyes of jade green, fair blonde hair that billowed out into the wins, gleaming silver armor. Even with his senses dulled by the calm tranquility of the endless plain, Naruto could feel the weight of the Knight's gaze upon him as she stood, with that golden sword's pommel clenched with her right hand, its blade embedded in the soft dirt of the hillock on which she stood.

Naruto would look at the Knight, and the Knight would gaze back at him calmly. The small boy would note that this Knight, despite her youthful appearance, looked so old and tired and alone. And she would gaze at him with this strange expression, regretful but at the same time... Relieved.

They would stare at each other, the Knight and the young boy. Watch each other curiously, warily cautiously. The knight would be the first one to break the silence. She would sigh softly, releasing a long drawn-out breath, before continuing to stare at Naruto, with those same, strangely piercing world-weary eyes.

And then she (For this person was undeniably a 'she') would speak.

"Surpass me."

Those were the only two words that the Knight ever said. Shortly after speaking, her form would vanish, and all that would be left behind in Naruto's dreams would be himself, a golden sword that was forged from glory and salvation, and a grassy plain that embodied the concepts of peace and goodwill amongst all men.

The dreams shifted from there. The plain vanished, and a new set of images arose.

A sword in a stone, and a slim hand reaching towards it-

An old man wielding arcane power, warning that if the sword was taken-

A round table of armored figures, and each face at that table was-

Standing at the head of an army, and the whisperings-

Betrayal, by one who was closest-

Cold. Cold running through his body-

A hill. A hillock, blasted and barren of any life, weeping rivers of blood and piled with mountains of corpses, rotting, fecund and dead. A hill embedded with swords. Swords to outfit an army, swords that slay men, blood-stained, broken.

Alone, bleeding out from a chest wound, broken and dying on a hill of swords, slain by a son-

A name. Pendragon, King of Knights, Once and Future King-

Uzumaki Naruto wakes from the dream. And he can't help but wonder...

Was it truly a dream? Or was it something else?

(Memories of who you once were, of a past long gone and a land far away.)

There aren't many people that enjoy Naruto's presence. In fact, it would be far more truthful to say that they hated him.

Oh, no one ever lays a hand on him, but it's obvious that these people have a less than pleasant disposition towards the small boy.

Little gestures. Conversations break off whenever the boy draws near, the looks of contempt and disgust and cold indifference, the fact that Naruto is living on the bare minimum of essentials and income.

The fact that he has been living all on his own, and has been doing so for some time now.

Yet among all the people in the village that Naruto lives in, there are a few people that don't seem to outright hate him on sight.

One of these people is an old man dressed in robes and a funny hat, who does most of his work in a tall tower near the center of the village.

Naruto enjoy spending time with this old man. He is a calming presence, one of the more stable influences in his life (Not unlike an old wizard, the King's advisor, mentor and friend... Infuriatingly irritating as he was... ), and thus, Uzumaki Naruto treasures whatever time he spends with the old man in the funny hat.

Especially when the old man takes him out to go eat ramen. After all, hunger is the great enemy. And for young Uzumaki Naruto, ramen is one of the best ways of dealing with this enemy.

The old man and Naruto have conversations over bowls of these noodles. How the day has been, has anything interesting happened, so on and so forth.

One day, Naruto asks what the old man does as for a living.

"I'm a Hokage." He smiles indulgently.

"What's a Hokage?"

"A protector of the village. A leader of the village. The head of this village."

Naruto takes a moment to think about this, and for some strange reason, recalls two words...

("Surpass me.")

He isn't too sure, but he gets the feeling that... Being a leader... That's important somehow.

Naruto nods solemnly. "Is it hard?"

The old man smiles sadly. "It is. Being the Hokage is a terrible burden at times."

"But..." Naruto flounders about for a moment before asking...

"Is it worth it?"

A moment of hesitation, before the old man speaks again. "Every day."

It is then that Naruto comes to a decision. That Knight wants him to surpass her, to over come her, to become greater than her. And so...

"Then I would like to become a Hokage one day."

He needs to surpass the Knight. He wants to surpass the Knight. He has to surpass the Knight. Because she said to, because it was written in the stars so long ago, because he needs to know why. Why he dreams of swords and battle, why he dreams of a peaceful utopia, and why that Knight looks so old yet young, so relieved yet haunted, why that Knight looks at him so regretfully.

Naruto's childish mind therefore comes to the conclusion that he would receive the answers to his questions if he surpassed the knight.

The old man smiles and pats his head, ruffling spiky blond tresses playfully.

"I'm sure you will become the Hokage. One day."

Naruto blinks up at the funny old man with his overly large blue eyes.

Of course he's going to become the Hokage. He has to surpass that person after all, and although he isn't too sure, he's pretty certain that becoming the Hokage is a step towards surpassing the Knight.

There are some things that Naruto knows by instinct, some actions he undertakes that feel nostalgic and familiar.

He prefers blue clothing. Blue, a royal blue just feels right, natural, fitting. Second nature.

He is good at gambling and games of chance, though he does not often partake in such activities very often. He enjoys good food, but doesn't eat junk food all day long. He is diligent in that it is second nature for him to wake up early in the morning, and go out to a field in order to exercise his body. He does this every day.

He doesn't have a real training schedule, only one dredged up from some dark corner of his mind (A laughing older brother, teasing him, asking him if he can keep up), but it seems to do the job.

He is a serious child. He doesn't express anger, he doesn't express happiness, he is as inscrutable as a still lake on a calm summer day. Calm and unfathomable.

It feels right to him, that he should be so unflappable (The king is not human, and you cannot protect anyone with human emotions-), so calm as to be cold. It feels natural, as if it's second nature. It isn't that he cannot feel emotion at all, it's that he's concealing his emotions, hiding his true feelings so as to be completely inscrutable and stone-like.

He wants to be a Hokage, because there is a person he has to surpass and questions that have to be answered.

Uzumaki Naruto will become a Hokage. (You will become a King, and surpass me in every way. Do what I could not, and rise to your title as rightful King of Britain. That is the wish that was made on that Holy Grail.)

Uzumaki Naruto is slated to attend the Ninja Academy. He isn't really sure what to feel about that prospect.

He is to become a ninja. A Shinobi of Konoha. An Assassin. (Gutless cowards hiding in the shadows, honorless thieves, backstabbing wretches.) One who fights without honor, without inhibition. One who does not abide by any code of chivalry. A most dishonorable warrior.

For some reason, that rankles at Naruto. For some reason, the idea of becoming a shinobi breaks some self-imposed rule placed by Naruto. (Battle should be conducted honorably and fairly...)

He deliberates. He isn't really sure if he wants to be a Shinobi. For the first time in his life, he has dreamless rest as he lays in his bed, shuddering until dawn breaks over the horizon. And then he reminds himself that he has to become a Hokage in order to surpass that Knight. In order to become a Hokage...

Uzumaki Naruto has to become a ninja. That's the only way to get the answers he seeks. The only way to surpass the Knight.

In order to become a Hokage, Naruto will become a ninja. Though it may sting at him, though for some reason he dislikes the idea of becoming a ninja, in order to fulfill his dreams, he will have to put aside his own inhibitions and fulfill his duty.

Though this decision does leave a sour taste in his mouth for quite some time.

The night before he is to join the Ninja Academy, he dreams of that Knight again. They stare at each other for a while, the Knight and the boy.

The Knight looks at him in anguish, anger and depression and disapproval. This takes Naruto by surprise. The Knight has never looked at him with disapproval before.

He speaks unconsciously. He doesn't even think about the words as they pass through his lips, he just speaks.

"I don't think... Being a ninja is just being a mercenary for hire, or a super-powered thug. Everybody has their own reasons for being a ninja. To protect. To serve. For country, for friends for family..."

He trails off.

"... Perhaps there can be honor among thieves? Maybe being a ninja... Is subjective, and is only defined by what your definition of a ninja is."

The Knight says nothing, merely regards him, and once again Naruto wonders at the regret lurking beneath her green eyes and what could have caused such a noble figure regret.

"And why are you going to become a ninja?" The Knight finally asks at length.

The answer to this question is easy.

"Because I have to surpass you."

This time, there is a faint hint of sadness glimmering in those bright green eyes.

"See to it that you don't fall down the slippery slope then." The Knight sighs. "Perhaps I was too quick to judge. I have no right to criticize how another should live and rule, not after..." She trails off. "This is not my world, they are not my people, and this is not my kingdom. I cannot tell you how to rule. I cannot tell you how to live, I cannot force you into making any decisions that you do not wish to make. I can only guide you, for in the end, all of your choices are your own to make. Such is our Fate, and the nature of our wish."

The Knight looked as if she were about to say more, but she didn't. She merely nods, jerkily, and steps back, fading away into golden motes of dust.

And then she was gone.

Umino Iruka isn't sure what to make of Uzumaki Naruto.

Iruka remembers when he received his first class of students as a Chunin teacher. He had watched those little figures shuffle in through the door of the classroom, and he had felt several things, all at once. He felt fear that he would be a terrible teacher, felt a slight amount of disgust and horror directed at himself and the village (He was teaching children how to kill, for crying out loud, and how many would die once they graduated? ), and he felt a mounting sense of panic rising up inside his body (I'm not cut out for this).

After a space of a second, Umino Iruka had ruthlessly crushed his fears and terrors. He was a Shinobi of Konohagakure and he would carry out his duty, regardless of any misgivings that he may have.

And so he had watched the children walk through the door of his classroom, and scrutinized them briefly. Some, he had noted, looked prepared for the life of a Ninja (Subtle clothing, calluses on hands and graceful manner of walking indicative of former training in some discipline of close-quarters combat), while others were... Civilians, 'playing Ninja' would be the best description. (Bright, expensive, flashy clothes, reeking of perfume or food, soft hands, no muscular strength whatsoever...)

"Alright class settle down." Iruka had said dispassionately.

He had told the class to introduce themselves stating their names and some various information about themselves. (Likes, dislikes, etc...) When he had reached Uzumaki Naruto...

A serious-faced child had walked up to the front of the classroom. A solemn child, wearing tasteful and functional blue clothing. Golden blond hair that drew the eye, three 'whisker' marks marring each cheek, and those eyes...

Blue orbs that were reminiscent of a still body of water, calm and undisturbed, deep of depth, unfathomable, unknowable. Those eyes were the eyes of a warrior, or a king. Those eyes...

Even the manner in which Naruto spoke was unusual. He spoke quietly and tersely, but he drew the ear. He drew attention. His voice was layered with authority and respectability. It was the voice of someone who disliked speaking, yet in the rare instances that they did speak, were heard.

"Uzumaki Naruto. The reason I'm here is so that I might surpass a certain person one day."

He stated this factually. Not arrogantly, not contemptuously, but factually, as if he were talking about the weather or some other trivial piece of nonsense.

The reactions of his classmates were also unusual in that they were subdued. There was no jeering, there was no laughing or taunting, or even idle chatter while Naruto was speaking. Only silence as children listened with the full force of their attention. It was as if they had unknowingly recognized a leader, and subconsciously deferred to him. Such was Naruto's charisma.

All Iruka could think as he watched that boy walk back to his desk and sit down was,

What a strange child.

Uzumaki Naruto grew. He grew stronger, faster, better. He didn't spend his time idly. He trained, oh how he trained. Exercising to improve his physical fitness, studying to improve his mind. He placed at the top of his class not because he was a natural genius, but because he genuinely worked to the bone, worked until he was a twitching mess of bruises on the ground, worked his mind until he suffered terrible migraines.

Part of why he worked so hard was out of pride. Pride in his own abilities as a rising warrior, and the knowledge that he could always... Be better. (The King is not allowed to show any weakness, the King must be perfect.)

Part of why he worked so hard was because in order to surpass the Knight, he had to become a Hokage. The Hokage was the best ninja in the village. He Hokage had to be the strongest, the fastest, the smartest, the bravest. In order to become a Hokage, Naruto had to excel at everything.

And as he grew, as he trained... He remembered strange things.

He knew where to hit a man to incapacitate, and he knew where to stab a man in order to kill him the most efficiently. Sometimes he caught himself writing in a strange foreign script.

He knew how to step to avoid an enemy's punches, and at times, he found himself staring out at a training ground, fist clenched, as if he were holding a stick, or a sword. And when he was sparring with his classmates, he found himself moving as if he did have some sort of weapon in his hand before he caught himself.

Sometimes, Uzumaki Naruto looks at himself and wonders if he is going out of his mind.

Eventually, that young boy graduates. He places at the top of his class, blowing all the other contestants out of the water.

There are whispers. 'Unnatural,' they call him. Strange, fey, monster, emotionless and oh so cold. And no normal child is that cold, no child that withdrawn.

Uzumaki Naruto hears all this. He isn't truly emotionless. Instead he has hidden his feelings, burying them beneath a cold, stony and august exterior. That is what he has been told in class after all.

"A shinobi must always put the mission first."

"A shinobi must never show their tears."

"A shinobi must never show any weakness."

The side effect of this is that Naruto is slowly losing the capability to emphasize with his peers. (The King cannot understand human emotions.) But that's alright. As long as Naruto becomes the best Hokage, the perfect leader, it won't matter what others think of him. It won't matter what he thinks of others, as long as he rules with a just and fair hand.

"Team Seven. Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura, and Uzumaki Naruto. Your Jonin-sensei will be Hatake Kakashi."

And this is where the story truly begins.

Hail the conquering king.

A/N:

This story is an experiment. I'm trying to refine my style of writing while writing a semi-serious story. I'm also trying to get rid of this stupid writer's block that's prevented me from writing anything for the past six months.

Updates for this story and for the rest of my stories will be slow. I'm still a student after all, and this year is one of the busiest I've ever had in my life.

I write because I want to write, and if I choose not to update a story, it's because of my own reasons. No amount of cajoling or begging will force me to change my mind.

Any sort of criticism is accepted and encouraged. It is how I develop as a writer after all.

Now I bid you, the reader, farewell.