I'm a little scared to be posting this really. While I was in Iraq I poured over my story, looking for mistakes and trying to make it right. But alas I'm not a great writer. Sometimes I wish I could write out the plot chapter for chapter like say...Draco664. A very talented writer. But I can't seem to do that since I tend to go off in another direction or when I do write it, it sounds stupid to me. So pretty much I've been writing as I go. I have a pretty good idea of where I want this story to go, and how I want things to be, but as I keep reading and re-reading it, I can't help but want to keep changing things, which is troublesome for readers to re-read a posted chapter. I really hope I can keep my focus on this story, and keep readers happy since they are, aside from personal satisfaction, the main reason I write. I really hope you all can understand my problem with writing, in short, I ramble on, or I don't write enough, and I write on a whim. Needles to say I have a difficult time doing something I love. Strange isn't it?
Well, ladies and gents, here are the fruits of my labor (when I wasn't busy playing infantry in Iraq). Hours upon hours of work on a mediocre piece that will take a long time to finish. So please be gentle with flames, comments and praises. What once was "Legacy Of The Pendragons" is now this...enjoy.
Of Kings and Commoners
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
The monarchy of England, many times over served their kingdom with distinction, whether it be by tyranny or by charity, they were remembered. But who can compare their rule with his majesty, Arthur Pendragon? The young squire who drew the sword from the stone and became king. The king who brought prosperity to a dying land, who set out his men in the gallant crusade to recover the Holy Grail. He who had to murder his son of his half sister, the treacherous witch Morgan. Arthur Pendragon brought blessed as well as trying times to his people. But never will the land know such courage, honor and nobility...
***
"Galahad?" He was never far from his majesty's side, being one of the few remaining Knights of the Round Table. His loyalty was never questioned, and his devotion to the king was the stuff of tales told in taverns throughout the land.
"Yes my Lord?" The elderly knight knelt before his king, who, by the hour was regaining his strength for the coming conflict.
"I need my sword." Spoke Arthur, his hand to his chin pondering his fate in the days to come.
"My Lord, we...we do not know where it is. Not since..."
"Gweniviere." He muttered.
"M-my Lord?" He trembled at the name of his estranged queen. She had betrayed his king in an act of lust with perhaps the greatest of them all. It was something he could not accept and would strike her down were it not for his majesty's orders.
"It troubles me no more. One cannot predetermine the course of love, and even a king cannot dictate its path. Nay, what troubles me is the thought of slaying my only son. A son not born from the womb of my queen." He rubbed his eyes trying to hide away his thoughts. "You will find her. Do not fetch her. I shall meet her myself."
"Sire, I do not understand."
Despite his love of his most loyal and faithful knight, Arthur's frustration had gotten the better of him.
"It is not for you to question the will of your king!" He said, with command, and at once Galahad knelt.
"Forgive me my Lord. She shall be found in two days time. I shall dispatch riders to all corners of the kingdom."
"Make it so..."
And the knight turned on his heel and left to carry out his orders. He gritted his teeth in frustration. His orders would be carried out even if he had to lead the effort himself. But he did not have to like it.
'She will be found, but to what end? What purpose does my king have for that unfaithful wench!?!'
***
Arthur rode discreetly through the town, noting its recovery was the same as every town. Though some still spiteful of his. The king was one with the land. Through stories and such, many felt hatred towards him for bringing such sorrow to his people. He knew he was not at fault, but he alone welcomed and shouldered the burden and did all he could to ease the suffering of his people. And now with the coming days, and the shadow of death following closely, he felt invigorated with a spirit he hadn't felt in a long time. The feeling of his sword in hand and the speed with which he rode through battle was a feeling he missed. Along with the elixir brought forth by the recovered Holy Grail, renewed life coursed through his veins and with the land he recovered and welcomed the shadow like a dear friend long missed.
Now he was dressed in the robes of a commoner, looking like a traveling old man. He missed the feeling of coarse wool and cotton his skin. The feeling of a sweat soaked tunic underneath gleaming armor and the stench it brought forth. He smiled at the memories of the squires having to remove and clean their armor after a lengthy battle.
Again he noted the town had more smiling faces than the last. A small farm could be seen with crops, a sight that had been rare but a week ago. He dismounted as he reached the marketplace. Once more his mind was flooded with memories as familiar sights and sound made themselves known. The calling of fresh bread had pulled him to a bakery. Few looked about, eyeing the warm bread hungrily. He looked about them and saw a child, an old man, and one not much younger than himself....
And his eyes met hers. In the robes of the convent, basket in hand and loaves of bread lay inside. He slowly walked up to her, looking only like a lost traveler to the eyes of the village, though he was sure she knew who he was. She lowered her gaze, as a quiet sign of respect, or out of shame he did not know.
"Spare a word for a lost traveler sister?" He asked.
"You can find the church near the town square. They will help you to where you need to go."
"Lost in life, not in land, sister." He smiled.
The two walked to the town's edge, along the thick forest surrounding the town. They came upon a small cabin beyond the eyes of even prying and adventuring children. It was empty save for a pile of hay in the corner, a pitch fork leaning against the wall, and a blanket folded neatly in one corner.
"I come here when even the solace of the convent cannot comfort me..." She kept he eyes down in shame, not daring to look him in the eye.
The two sat on the floor facing each other in silence.
"Gweniviere, I haven't much time. My destiny draws to a close. You have it...I know you do. I have much to ask of you."
"I have it...here." She moved the hay aside and drew her hand across the floor, brushing away the dirt. She dug her fingers into a crevice between the floor boards. Jarring it loose she pulled out a length of cloth that almost spanned from fingertip to finger tip. Slowly she removed its folds revealing the great sword of the lake.
"I-I'm sorry m'lord. I could not leave it. And...and I could not return. Lancelot...Arthur I'm sorry!" She broke down at the memories of her infidelity and the foolishness of her young age. She had long since reconciled her feelings for the young knight and vowed to reconcile her grievances from within the church.
"You must hate me. Had I known what true love was like I would not have been unfaithful! Please believe me when I say I love you! Lancelot...was...yes, he gave me many things but never his heart. I desired attention. I could not understand why you could not be by my side forever. You loved a foolish and stupid girl. But, she loved you. Deep in her heart she loved you," She took his hand placed it over her heart. "And she loves you still. Please forgive the choices I made in my past life and forgive me of mine in this life. Our Lord God has forgiven me, but I cannot live without yours." She released his hand and wiped away the flow of tears from her eyes only to have another hand touch her cheek, running itself down to her chin lifting her eyes to his.
"I cannot do what I have already done..."
***
His body was tired now. It was a chore to dress himself again and tighten his belt. But he had to leave as time was of the essence. He picked up Excalibur and great warmth filled him. He tightened his grip as the hilt grew hot to the point of glowing. His hands burned but he maintained his hold upon the legendary sword.
Slowly it cooled and he sheathed it. His hands were free of charred flesh or even blisters. He wondered, but he didn't dwell. It was not his place to contemplate the wonders of magic. He left Merlin to such ponderings.
Arthur looked upon her sleeping form and spoke, knowing she would hear his voice.
"Bear me a child my love. A son. But free him of my legacy and raise him as my son and not as my prince. I love you; forgive me for not telling you sooner. Know that my love never dies, though this body shall. Farewell..."
***
Eyes from beyond the forest peered into deep forest, hearing cries and declarations of love, entwined in a passion the owner of the eyes was sworn to never have. She watched the man, a common man dressed in dirty clothes and looking haggard, and later her own sister leave though much longer after. She didn't dare confront her in a place of privacy. She did not know what she was capable of if she would go as far as to break her vows. Daring to wear the robes of the convent while exposing herself to the simple pleasures of the flesh to a stranger.
"She can no longer stay..."
***
"Father! She cannot stay! She has broken her vow of celibacy! She has forsaken the convent and resorted to pleasures of the flesh! Whoring herself out to common men! I saw it with my own eyes! She has a cabin in the woods! That's where she's been disappearing too! Lying to us!"
The elder women had paused, her breathing heavy and ragged from yelling. The middle age priest sat with behind his desk, resting his head on his hands, taking in what had just been said to him.
"Perhaps she has a good explanation..."
"The excuse doesn't matter!"
A knock suddenly sounded from the door before it was slowly opened revealing a downtrodden Gweniviere. It was a common look for her, and it saddened him to never see her smile.
"You requested to see me Father?" She spoke timidly, and with reason.
"Yes I did. Sister Blaine says she saw you enter a cabin with a man, procreated, and returned here. She suspects you of prostitution, that his is not a one time incident, and that you should be removed from the convent."
"As she very well should be!"
The Priest raised his hand, quieting her and waited for Gweniviere's explanation.
"Father, I know when you took me in you didn't care about my past."
He only nodded.
"Well that man has very much to do with my past. His name is Arthur Pendragon, Lord of Camelot. I am Gweniviere Pendragon, his queen."
"Absurd! You a queen? Then why aren't you sitting upon a throne? Father this is ridiculous..." The old woman screamed.
Gweniviere quickly reached inside her robes and pulled out a necklace bearing the royal crest.
"This is proof enough." She snapped the link behind her neck and tossed it to Blaine, who eyed it first with suspicion and then with anger.
"It still does not change the fact that you have broken sacred vows." She glared at Gweniviere her eyes reading more than frustration.
"Father, you must know, as many, that I have not given the King a son. He in his last declaration to me, forgiven me for my infidelity, shown me his love for me and ask that I bear him a son. Not and heir to the thrown, but a simple boy. And that was all there was to this I swear it."
The priest folded his hands, covering his mouth, lost in thought.
"Blaine, leave us."
"B-but-." She stuttered, not believing that he may actually side with her and ignore the truth.
"Now. Please. I need to speak with her alone." He commanded with a gentle voice.
Reluctantly the elder left in a huff, her footsteps louder than usually and her frustration in the situation obvious. The two watched her leave before facing each other once more.
"She is not mistaken in the fact that you have broken many rules and deserve to be removed. The only King we serve rules in Heaven and we cannot surrender ourselves with such petty things."
She only nodded and trembled at his every word. She could not go back, and the path she had chosen for herself was all she had left.
"However, I believe that to rid one's self of one's past, one must confront it, accept it, and lastly forget it. You are no longer the Queen. You have done you King's last request. You are now a Nun at this convent."
Her eyes shot up from the floor looking at him with hopeful eyes.
"But I must send you away perhaps to the mission up north. Forgive me to make you travel, but the conflict and the rumors, though petty and simple, would take time to recover from. I'm sorry. It would be best if you make for a hasty departure to give the impression of removal and banishment."
She shook her head in response.
"No! Thank you! This is not a problem, I only wish to remain at a convent and help others. You have given me another chance of which I felt unworthy of. Thank you Father Potter!"
She gave him a quick hug and watched her leave. His heart felt light at the sight of her smile. And now that he knew who she really was, he could only take more pride in consoling a queen. This is why he became a priest in the first place. To help those in need. And a smile was all he ever required in return. They always called him the Smiling Priest since he was hardly ever seen without one.
***
The heavy breathing and screams that once filled the room were suddenly replaced by the struggled breaths and crying of a small and pale newborn baby. The nurse severed the umbilical cord and wrapped the baby in a towel, drying him and looking at it admirably.
"Congratulations Gweniviere. It's a boy." She handed the baby to his mother, quieting its cries in her arms.
She knew it was a boy. That she was able to bear child at all seemed a miracle, that it should be a boy was no surprise at all.
A small rapping came from the door and an elderly man peeked his head in.
"Well?"
"Come in Father. Shhh...He's asleep now."
"He?" He blinked and folded his hands. "Well then, has he a name?"
Gweniviere smiled pressing her lips to her son's forehead and nodded. "It...It was my husband's last wish to spare him of his reputation. That he be raised free of what his heritage would bring upon him."
Tears began to form in her eyes and she remembered the name she had long since chosen for her son. The names of those who had forgiven her and showed her compassion when she did not deserve it.
"My son...Arthur Potter..." And her tears fell, running down her cheeks recalling memories long forgotten. It had been a long time since she cried, especially out of happiness.
***
James leapt from his chair to the window at the sounds of screaming. He cast his eyes upward and saw it. A green skull, looking misty and foreboding. Immediately he summoned his wand and made for the door. He stopped once he heard footsteps follow from down the stairs. He held his hand up, stopping his wife, her worried look even more so at the thoughts that entered he mind.
"Stay with Harry. I'll be back."
And with that he rushed out the door and down the street. His neighbors were fighting back, some fleeing in terror while others carried their kin to safety. He knew the Fidelius Charm would keep him and his family safe, but he was never one to sit by and watch helplessly. He rounded the corner and jumped back behind it as a spell brushed past him. Flashes of green laced out as he watched another of his townsfolk fall. Voldemort could not see him, but he could see them. This thought resonated through his mind and he readied himself to leap out again to rejoin the fray until he felt a tug on his sleeve. A young wizard, about his own age who lived just down the road, wheezed out a breath, trying to fight the pain of the popping boils.
"James..." He sucked in another breath before coughing it out. "James, he knows...he's coming for you. *COUGH* He knows your secret..." And his last breath left him sounding like a sigh of relief.
'He knows? Voldemort knows our secret!?! How? What happened to Peter!?! Harry! Lily!'
He darted back between cover and running back to his home. Death Eaters were laughing manically and he fought the need to strike them down. The sights of the Imperious and Cruciatus curses being cast were sickening and painful to ignore. He saw his home in sight, just a mere left turn away, when he saw the familiar dark flowing robes appear before him.
"James Potter...You know what
I've come for..."
And for the first time in his life, he panicked. He could not think as this monster slowly swept towards him. His mind was a mess. He knew he needed to fight, to cast spells, punch him, anything! But he froze.
"JAMES!"
The sound of his wife's voice shook him from his stupor and he saw her hiding behind the front door, wand in hand.
"Lily!" He screamed, instantly apparating to her side. Instinctively he shielded them and pushed them inside the house. As futile as it was he closed and locked the door putting hasty charms on them.
"James, James, are you alright? What's happening?" His body trembled and he held her close trying to sputter out the words that to even to him made no sense."
"Voldemort knows our secret and he's coming. He right outside," He said calmly, caressing her face as the tears rolled down. "Get Harry and yourself to Dumbledore. I'll hold him off."
"No...James...no!"
"I love you."
He kissed her fiercely and touched Harry's cheek, looking at him with sad eyes. Crying, Lily ran upstairs as James readied himself at the front door waiting for it to burst open. Unbeknownst to him, Voldemort circled around the back, using the sound of the raging conflict to quiet his unlocking charm and strode slowly upstairs avoiding detection. The sounds of his wife screaming sent shocks through his system and he was again frozen in place
"NO! Take me! Spare Harry! He's only a ba-AHHHHHHHHHH!" And a thud resounded trough the house with the cries of a child.
"Lily!" James cried rushing upstairs cursing himself. "You BAST-!" But he did not finish the word. He found the tip of Voldemort's wand between his eyes. It did not matter as James stared defiantly into Voldemort's cold eyes, glowing beneath the shadow of his hood.
"You will join her. Avada Kedavra." He hissed coldly and James fell with a flash of green, collapsing in the doorway.
"And now the last of the Potters. And the beginning of my rise to power..."
"No!....Don't you dare..." A voice struggled. Voldemort for the first time in a long time trembled at the sight of a man who had been touched with the killing curse and remained alive. Was this the power of their bloodline? It was truly remarkable and frightening even for a Dark Lord. And now he understood the Seer's visions to destroy them. They would be the greatest threat to him...But no longer.
"What!?! Impossible!" He cried out as James brought his hand to grasp at Voldemort's ankle. He kicked away from the weakened grasp and "No matter! Even I can see that you have but mere seconds to live. Fear not since you son will join you in the afterlife!"
He thrust his wand at the face of the baby who had for some reason stopped crying. He looked into the eyed beneath the hood with an odd smile and a look of curiosity. Voldemort squeezed his wand and uttered the words that would set in motion the machine that would bring about his ascension as the strongest of them all. A bolt of green shot at the baby, sitting on the bed, unknowingly watching his parents die and beginning the course of life to which legends will be told of.
Voldemort's body had decayed and faded into a thick brown mist, swirling around, before passing through the walls. It's once dark laughter now replaced with haunting moans.
"Harry...Don't worry...I'll be okay..." His dying breath was spent and his body began to shake. The spell that was meant to kill had finally succeeded in disintegrating the soul and the lifeless body writhed in a life like torturous manner, glowing green, and blue before finally expending itself in one great explosion. Decimating the house in a shower of lights and seemingly random spells begin cast from the house. Only the bed, on which Harry sat on, lay unscathed, while the rest lay in ruins. The sounds of Death Eaters on parade were gone, and the tears of baby filled the Hollow, leading a half giant to find him as the moon began to wane. It was the end of a night that would change their world forever.