❝Do not procreate! Children are fucking evil!❞
— something that Nero definitely did not say (... probably)

In all honesty, Arturia has no slightest idea how to raise a child.

Really.

There is an endless list to the things that she can do, admittedly. She was raised to be independent, raised to not relay on anyone, and raised to be a quick thinker, but by God, none of his father's words of wisdom could ever prepare her for this.

"Eat your vegetables, Mordred." She says in a authoritative voice.

Usually her tone would make even the toughest man alive adhere yet, this time, she is only met with a tiny huff and an equally tiny hand pushing her plate as far as she could.

"Don't wanna!" The shriek makes her cringe.

Arturia tries her hardest to not let her lose her temper then because that's the last thing that she needs. "Mordred Pendragon, eat your vegetables. I'm not gonna ask you twice." She continues sternly.

Said Mordred on the other hand merely crosses her arms on her chest. "How about you eat your vegetables first? Stupid hag." The name this FOUR YEARS OLD called her is enough to make her eye twitch. Often times she wonders just how did her brother raised her for her to know such words.

Then again, Arthur is shady in his own ways.

Inhaling a deep breath, Arturia shakes her head and reminds herself to be patient because she's talking to a kid.

"I don't need to eat vegetables. I've already grown to my full and best stature." The older of the two replies before bringing the lips of her mug to her mouth.

"Gueh," Mordred fakes gag before turning to the side. "The fact that you're still small is enough to convince me that vegetables don't make people grow!" Then she stands on her chair and starts to pound her tiny fist on the table. "I want meat! Vegetables are not going to make me big! I want meat! Meat! Meat! Meat!"

Oh, my fucking God.

What had she ever done to deserve this?

Arthur Pendragon definitely has some good qualities of his own. Arturia is not blind to not see that.

While technically he is viewed as the "black sheep" of the family, her brother is great at what he's doing. When he left and went against their father's wishes (Uther wanted him to be a doctor, Arthur had other plans) nobody was really expecting that he'd make a name for himself in his choosen field.

Much to everyone's awe, he did.

Being an archaeologist (in their father's eyes, anyways) isn't really a big deal, it is certainly the less favorable job that one would choose—again, their father's words—but when you find evidences that the tale of King Arthur had been very much real, that is the time you become a big deal. And Arthur (oh, the irony) was able to dug up evidences that proved that the great King had been pretty much alive at some point, and it was definitely a cherry on top when he found the Excalibur, hidden in a dungeon that was meters and meters underground in a nameless castle in the middle of a very vast unknown forest.

It was like fate itself for the Archaeologist Arthur Pendragon to find King Arthur Pendragon.

(And ironic. There's has been tons of joke made due to that fact.)

Needless to say, her brother was able to prove himself to those who doubted him.

For what he's worth, her brother could be the smartest person that she'd ever met, but if there's one thing that she learned growing up with him, it's the fact that he has tendencies to be the craziest person that you'll ever meet.

She'd proven that right when one day, after a long tedious day at the police station and she's nearly dragging her half asleep body to her apartment, she sees a little girl sitting in front of her door. Arturia noted the two suitcase besides her and how she held the Lion plush in her arms, not tightly enough that would indicate that she's afraid. Instead, all she saw in those familiar set of green eyes when she looked up were, well, annoyance.

"You're late!" she remember the child exclaimed with a huff.

"Excuse me?" Arturia could only blink in confusion.

"You were supposed to be here an hour ago! You made me wait for an hour!" The little child continued to exclaim, this time standing from her sitting position and crossing her tiny arms in front of her chest.

Shaking her head, the woman frowns. "I'm sorry, but who are you?" She couldn't help but question. And as if realizing that she hasn't introduced herself just yet, the little girl blinks and mutters a small "oh".

"Pardon me," The little girl starts with obvious arrogance. She straightens her posture and places her tiny hands on her hips, a stance that made Arturia think of a very haughty prince on one of those movies she likes to waste her time in. Smirking—yep, that's definitely arrogance that she sees—the little girl puffs her chest. "My name is Mordred Le Faye Pendragon! Daughter of Arthur Pendragon and I have descended from Romania to live with you!" She exclaims. "Well, at least that's what Daddy said. He wasn't really clear about it."

Oh.

Wait, wait, wait!

"WHAT?!"

(She's quite sure her scream startled most of her neighbors but possibly disturbing them was the least of her concerns then.)

That was her first encounter with a niece she never knew existed until Arthur confirmed—after he called later that night—that, yes, she's his kid. It was certain that she's mad at him (after all, never had he contacted them for five years before then and their only assurance that he was still alive and kicking was the articles showcasing and praising him for his latest discovery.) but after he told her that she's the only one who he could trust Mordred with, Arturia let out a dejected sigh.

That pretty much was the start of the mess that she's currently in.

Really, she has no slight knowledge about taking care of a child, much less one that simply refuses to listen. Between grade school, middle school, high school and eventually the police academy, she never had any encounter that would somewhat help her with the unexpected task Arthur gave to her.

And for seriously, she is about to lose her freaking mind.

"Mordred, for the last time, get off the floor." Arturia nearly whines as her niece continue to lay face first in front of her apartment door, refusing to budge and sticks her butt to the air even further. The elder is mildly concerned with the amount of dirt sticking to her uniform (something that cost her quite a fortune even though it was only a miniature version of Fate High School's pleated skirt, white button up underneath a black vest) but her concern is mostly replaced by annoyance and exhaustion.

God, when will her suffering ever ends?

"Don't wanna! You're going to send me to an evil place! I refuse to surrender!" The little girl raises her face from where it's hidden and stuck her tongue out. Arturia feels a vein pop at her antics and she could only sigh in exasperation and rub her temples. "A rightful King never surrenders!"

"We've been through this, Mordred, preschool is not an evil place." Arturia groans and tries to pick the little girl from the floor. Which is pretty much a wrong decision because she let out an ear piercing shriek.

"NO!" Mordred screeches as she curls herself to the ground even further. "That is the place where they start to hypnotize you and force you to be something that you're not! I refuse to lose my identity!" She continues and Arturia once again finds herself questioning if Mordred is really only four. She wouldn't be surprised if Arthur lied about her age to begin with.

"Who on Earth told you that?" Arturia grunts as she manages to pry Mordred off the floor.

The little girl stops struggling for a moment and shrugs. "Daddy did." And she is back to wriggling herself off her aunt's grasp.

Oh, for fuck's sake, Arthur!

Never had Arturia ever want to punch her brother then. Well, except for the time where he stole and ate the steak she's been saving for midnight snack from the fridge when they were thirteen.

"Mordred, stop resisting! I need to go to work too!" Arturia groans and carries the still resisting Mordred to the direction of the elevator, since obviously it's quite an hazard to use the stairs when you're carrying a wriggling child. Entering the elevator, the elder let out a relieved sigh and places Mordred back to the floor just as the door closes.

The little girl immediately makes a run for the buttons and slams her little fingers on them not so gently, giggling as she did so. Sighing—God, she'd been doing that a lot lately—she reaches for the top of Mordred's backpack and pulls her away. And of course, the little girl is not so happy about this.

Crossing her arms on her chest, Mordred glares at her reflection on the steel door. Arturia still had her hand on her backpack and there is obviously no chances of escape. The little girl scrunches her nose at the thought.

Then, an (evil) idea crosses her mind.

Looking up to the floor number, Mordred blinks for a couple of times before she smirks just as the number hits the ground floor.

Arturia literally had no idea what came to her when Mordred takes hold of her pants and pulls it down just as the elevator doors opens. The woman is quick to flush red when her plain black underwear is laid bare for the person standing outside of the elevator.

Unfortunately for her—of all fucking days—her green eyes locks with confused, slightly half lidded crimson ones. The way the eyes' owner's hair is not in its usual stylish state and how crumpled his white shirt as well as the bags under his eyes indicates that he is possibly hangover, and Arturia wishes that he is still drunk just so she can save her dignity.

Yet, when his eyes falls south, her ears fully turns into a crimson color just as realization reflects on them. And when his lips quirks up before a loud taunting laugh escapes his mouth, she wishes for the world to blow up already.

Seriously, of all the people who would see her in this state, it just had to be this jerk.

She hates her fucking life.

(... And Mordred is already running away.)

© TYPE MOON

Fore warning, this is going to be random and crackish lol. If you're looking for a serious story, this ain't it.