Warcraft belongs to Blizzard
Fate/Stay Night belongs to Typemoon
Warning! This is more of a spin off instead of a direct cross with modern day Fate/Stay Night. I like Saber and so I am gonna put her in the WoW world.
Also, this fic take place during the first Orc -Human war.
Special thanks to Wayfarer and Cheeser for editing this chapter and really polishing this fic. We're talking about some real elbow grease here!
UPDATED! 9/12/14: Xbox432, threw his hat in , here to stay. ^_^ thank you!
Lioness of Stormwind
Chapter 5
**** Deep within the Black Morass ****
For the past few hours, Durotan, the strong and proud Orc chieftain of the Frostwolves, had watched on as the Orc chieftains blamed one another for their humiliating defeat against the pinkskins. Blackhand blamed the Orcs for failing. The Orc chieftains blamed Blackhand for poor leadership. Durotan himself blamed Gul'dan, who in turned blamed the Ogres. It was quite amusing.
"If your damned Bleeding Hollows had done their job properly, these pinkskins would never have been able to alert their forces!" Rend Blackhand, son of Blackhand the Destroyer, accused the old, grizzled, one-eyed Orc chieftain.
The accusation brought a deathly silence to the room, causing the son of Blackhand to realize that he had overstepped his bounds.
"Rend enough! Leave now!" Blackhand shouted as he grabbed his son by the back of his neck and tossed him out of the tent, humiliating him in front of everyone. He had seen the murderous intent on Kilrogg's face, and if the one eyed bastard had killed his son, he would have been honor bound to retaliate. That would have brought war between the clans.
"Regardless if they were ready or not, we should have easily destroyed them if they were really what someone claimed they were!" Zuluhed, the Whacked, the slightly demented chieftain of the Dragon Maw, insisted. He then turned to Gul'dan and pointed at the Head Warlock. "Wasn't it you who said they would be easy pickings?"
Once more, the room became silent as all chieftains present turned their attention towards the Chief Warlock of the Horde. Durotan smiled inwardly at seeing the damn traitor squirm beneath the others' accusing eyes. Maybe Blackhand would wise up and rid himself of the damnable Orc and be done with it. Durotan was glad he had declined the honor of the first assault on the Humans after seeing what happened. The reason for his decline, however, was simple. He was sick of it. He was sick of war. Sick of what his race had become, and he could not watch as his people slaughtered a weaker race that had done nothing to them again. They dishonored themselves by doing so. Durotan had quenched his thirst for slaughter with the Draenei's, a race he had personally helped bring to ruin despite knowing their cause was wrong. And so, he had volunteered his clan to stay back and guard the Dark Portal. Now, more than ever, he was glad for it. Apparently, there was no easy prey in this new world.
"Yes, Gul'dan, please tell us how they were able to beat back our forces?" Blackhand looked to his High Warlock in amusement. He still needed the Warlock to keep the other clans in line but it would be good to remind the worm who held the power.
"It... It's!" Gul'dan looked around and saw all the clan chieftains staring at him expectantly; some were even sharpening their weapons. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Durotan of the Frostwolves, looking incredibly bored by the proceedings. Inwardly cursing the Frostwolves' chieftain, he threw himself before Blackhand in complete submission. "It was a mistake, I admit. My vision, once so clear, was clouded."
"Then why should we let you live since you cost us so many of our warriors?" Kilrogg softly questioned. He took out a wicked looking jagged blade and started to sharpen it in front of the nervous Warlock. "You have outlived your usefulness if even your dreams have betrayed you."
Gul'dan felt his heart beat furiously in his chest as the other chieftains around him nodded in agreement with Kilrogg. He had to think of a way to save his skin first. Then he would deal with Kilrogg. "It was the works of the Draenei!" he shouted quickly.
The other Orc Chieftains looked on and growled at the mention of their old enemies.
Sensing their uncertainty, Gul'dan continued. "They clouded my vision even from the grave! But I have dispelled the last of their magics and now my vision is true once more."
"The Draenei?" Kilrogg voiced skeptically but his eyes did look somewhat concerned. The Draenei were, after all, quite formidable. It was plausible that they could have planned something in advance even knowing of their impending doom.
"Yes!" Gul'dan confirmed, seizing his chance. "The enemy we face here now are... formidable, but they are the strongest this world has to offer. Once we defeat them, this world is ours!"
Durotan wanted to curse the stupidity of his fellow chieftains for believing such a blatant lie, but after drinking from the Blood Cup, the chieftains he had respected did not seem as rational as they once were. Their strength was still there, but their reasoning was suspect. He suddenly stood up and made to walk out of the tent.
"And where are you going Durotan?" Blackhand asked curiously. While he respected the Frostwolves' chieftain for his strength, he would still force his submission.
Turning around, Durotan bowed respectfully to the Warchief. "To prepare my forces, Warchief, as we are the only ones left."
"Prepare for what?" Gul'dan snapped, glaring at the Frostwolves' chieftain.
Durotan gave Gul'dan a look and mockingly replied. "This is why you are not a clan chieftain Warlock. You are no warrior, so you would not understand."
Gul'dan went even greener in the face at the insult. He started to walk toward Durotan but the hand of Orgrim Doomhammer fell upon his shoulder and stopped him in his tracks.
"Durotan is right. His Frostwolves are the only fighting force we have left. He must prepare our defenses," Doomhammer stated, before nodding to his friend.
"What are you talking about?" Gul'dan demanded.
"Are you really that naive?" Durotan sneered. "We have provoked these 'Humans', razing their towns and slaughtering thousands. Do you REALLY think they would not come here to pay us back in kind?"
Gul'dan's eyes widened at the implication. As loathed as he was to admit it, Durotan was right. They only had the Frostwolves and a few remnants of Blackrock. While they were bringing more Orcs from the Dark portal every day, the chieftains on Draenor were still scattered.
Durotan, seeing Gul'dan's understanding, gave the chief warlock a look of disgust before exiting the tent.
"I would suggest that you find a way to solve our little dilemma, Gul'dan. Or I'll be forced to have you beheaded for incompetence," Blackhand told his chief warlock with a grin. Having sent a cruel look to the Orc he stood up and walked out, ending the meeting.
Gul'dan found himself alone after a few moments when suddenly, he was surrounded in darkness again. He saw the mage Medivh in front of him and immediately realized he was in his mindscape
Angrily, he made to lash out at the Human mage. "This was YOUR fault! You promised me power and my people an easy victory!" Gul'dan growled, storming towards the Human mage. However, as soon as Gul'dan had gotten close to the Human, he felt a jolt of searing pain. The Human now radiated a presence far beyond that of a Human, even greater than that of Kil'Jaden, the great demon lord.
"You DARE?" Medivh voice boomed across the black space.
Gul'dan quickly fell to his knees and bowed his head low submissively. "Of course not, Master, I was merely taken in by the moment," he groveled. The sheer power Medivh was giving off was suffocating. "You said we would take them off guard but they were already ready for us. They are likely coming to push us back through the portal. How could we do your will now, Master?"
The great mage's presence slowly dimmed, much to Gul'dan relief, as he walked towards the groveling Orc. "Do not fear. They will not be coming." Medivh informed the Orc as he stroked his beard. "I have told them that your forces were completely destroyed, and they no longer worry. This will give you more time to bring your people here to this land, make sure you have MORE this time."
"Yes, my master!" Gul'dan agreed quickly. He slowly stood back to his feet, his shoulders still hunched in submission. "We only brought a small fraction of our forces over; I will make sure we number in the hundreds of thousands before we march on the Human lands!"
"Good," Medivh said as he now looked off into the distance. "I will weaken them from the inside while you do so. This brings me to another matter at hand."
"Yes, Master?" Gul'dan asked, tentatively standing up straight now that the oppressive presence was gone.
"You have a pet. The half Orc, half Draenei hybrid," Medivh stated simply as he looked directly at the taller Orc.
"What about her?" Gul'dan looked curiously at his master. The girl, Garona, had been a novel experiment. Too bad other hybrids could not have been made.
"I want her. Send her to Stormwind by herself, make her an envoy of your people while you build up your forces here."
At first, Gul'dan was surprised by the request. But then, realizing the deviousness of the mage, he burst out laughing. One hand would extend an offer of peace while the other wielding an axe to strike them down the moment they least expect it.
***** Lakeshire, Three Weeks later after the Battle of Three Corner ****
Saber woke up to the smell of baking bread, its scent tickled at her nose demanding her attention. Wide awake, she jumped out of bed before recognizing her surroundings. This was her Aunt Cecilia's house.
Taking out her royal blue dress and white tunic, she folded it over her arm and made for the baths. She missed the convenience of running water she had experienced with Shirou, instead having to bathe in a wooden tub. Surprisingly, despite the lack of technology, it seemed the people of this world were quite hygienic; as soap, and other things were available to her. Fifteen minutes later she was cleaned and ready as she wore her blue dress and walked out into the living room where she was immediately greeted by her two nephews.
"Arturia!" the two boys said happily as he they grabbed their pretty cousin by her cuff and pulled her to the table to eat.
"Ed, Albert, you're being rude again!" an older woman, whose features were similar to that of Igraine, chided her two boys.
Immediately the two boys looked contrite. Together they bowed their heads low and said. "Sorry, Mom..."
"It's okay, Aunt Cecilia," Saber assured, greeting her aunt with a polite smile.
"How many times have I told you? Just call me Aunty or Cecilia," the pretty older woman corrected as she hugged her blond niece. "I swear you haven't changed at all with your politeness!"
Saber had to quirk a smile at that. She couldn't help it; twenty some odd years of ruling had made her speech quite formal. "I shall endeavor to change," she responded playfully.
"Arturia, you're awake," Igraine observed as she walked in from the front door. She was dressed in a simple violet dress with a basket in her arm. At a glance one could see various fruits sticking out of it.
"Good morning, Mother," Saber greeted her mother affectionately as her mother sighed in exasperation. As much as she loved her mother, Saber could never call her 'mommy' or 'mama'.
With everyone there, the family enjoyed a pleasant breakfast making small-talk with each other. The two older women, to Saber surprise, never once brought up the Battle of Three Corners.
After breakfast, Arturia helped her aunt clean up the dishes before they were interrupted by a polite knock at the door.
"I'll get it," Cecilia said as she toweled off her hand on her apron. She turned left at the hall way and disappeared from view.
Saber was focused on the dishes next to her mother when she was surprised by what sounded like a squeal from her aunt. Curious, she turned to look at the entrance of the hallway to see Lancelot, in full armor, standing there looking at her in bemusement. Next to the perfect knight was her aunt, demurely blushing deeply as she made eyes at the handsome knight.
Eyes twinkling with delight and mischief, Lancelot gave his King a level look. "Ah, Commander Arturia, I hope I was not interrupting anything?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at his King, who was doing what he classified as womanly duties. He noticed his King narrowing her eyes at him for his comment. She had opened her mouth to say something to him when she closed it suddenly and gave him an unreadable look. Not for the first time Lancelot was reminded that, while his King was mostly the same, she acted... differently now, meaning that she was not above getting back at him.
Looking from her aunt to her mother who was also blushing, much to her annoyance, Saber turned back to the famed knight of Moonbrook. "Not at all, in fact, I would like for you to come and give me a hand," she said politely. She smirked inwardly as Lancelot's eyes widened in indignation.
"Arturia!" both Arturia's aunt and mother chided the girl at the same time before looking apologetically to the knight. Igraine had not recognized the famed knight of Moonbrook while Cecilia was his biggest admirer.
Saber's eyes narrowed a fraction as she gazed at Lancelot, giving him a smile that spoke of his impending doom. "Don't worry mother, I insist," she ordered.
Sighing in defeat, Lancelot took off his gauntlets without protest and moved over to do the dishes as his King moved out of the way. A moment later the two women of the house hold were by his side, trying to dissuade him from doing the chore. But he remained obstinate. If this was what his King wished, then so be it. This was to be his long road for atonement no matter what form it took.
Saber dried off her hands, shrugged off the dirty looks her mother and aunt gave her before turning to her cousins, who were staring at her former knight in awe. It was then she saw another Brotherhood Knight enter her aunt's home. A young handsome boy, no more than twenty years of age, he took one look at her and blushed red before locking eyes on the knight of Moonbrook.
The boy surprised by the sight of his superior doing dishes, turned back to the pretty blonde girl. "Ah, Commander Arturia," the young knight croaked out before clearing his throat to sound normal again.
"I don't think I am 'Commander' anymore knight...?" Saber corrected, giving him an opportunity to introduce himself.
"Ah yes, of course, I am so sorry, where are my manners," the young knight replied in a flustered tone. Giving her a knightly bow he introduced himself. "I am Squire Gawain of Sunnyglade."
Saber's eyes widened at the name. She immediately turned to look at Lancelot who winked at her in response. The bastard had planned this to surprise her. She saw the young knight look at her nervously and she turned her attention back on him. "Well, Squire Gawain of Sunnyglade, it is an honor to meet you," she said kindly. She briefly recalled one of her most loyal knights. The boy in front of her looked nothing like the Gawain she knew.
"No- No, the honor is all mine!" Gawain gushed. Thankfully before he could make a further fool of himself, Knight Lancelot hooked his armed around his neck.
"How do you like my squire?" Lancelot asked with a roguish grin. "He worships the very ground you walk on you know. Not unlike someone else we knew eh?"
"Sir!" Gawain yelped as he hid his blushing red face. To his further embarrassment, Commander Arturia's pretty emerald eyes were looking at him thoughtfully.
Saber had to shake her head, unknowingly making Gawain's heart freeze thinking that negative motion was for him. She could guess why Lancelot would pick a boy by the name of Gawain to be his squire. She knew the two never liked each other and this was probably Lancelot's way of one upping her serious knight. She turned to see that her aunt was now practically drooling at the two handsome knights in front of her. Not only that, but her mother was also priming her hair while smoothing her dress. Honestly.
"Oh Gawain, aren't you going to present Lady Arturia her gift from the Governor General?" Lancelot prompted the young knight who looked like he wanted to die where he stood.
"R- Right away, Sir!" the young red haired knight said before running outside.
Lancelot smiled at the young knight in trainings eagerness to please. He had to admit, he found it damn funny saying; 'fetch me this Gawain, do that Gawain, no Gawain, BAD Gawain!' This new world was so much fun! Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he noticed his King's confused look. "Is something wrong, Your Maj - uh, Commander?"
Saber looked at her former knight and asked the question that had been bugging her. "Why are you still referring to me as Commander? I thought it was in jest, but even young Gawain referred to me the same way. You do remember that my battlefield commission was only temporary right?" she reminded him. She dismissed the weird looks her mother and aunt were giving her.
"Young Gawain?" Igraine repeated while looking at her daughter. With her hands rested on her hips she shook her head. "You fight in a battle and now you think you are older than everyone else now?"
Saber opened her mouth to explain when she realized that her mother was absolutely correct; she was sixteen years old in this world! Suddenly she blushed in embarrassment and became flustered at her mistake. Little did Saber realize that she was making herself look adorable to all present. Unfortunately it was this scene that young Gawain returned too.
"Here is the gi-ft?" Gawain trailed off as he noticed everyone's attention was on Commander Arturia. Looking over to the Lioness of Three Corners, he was greeted with a sight forever burned into his memories. A blushing, flustered, Commander Arturia. He could die right now and be content.
Lancelot turned around and saw the small trunk that his squire, aka whipping boy, brought in and took it from his stunned hands. Lancelot never realized his King could look so adorable all this time. Try as he might he could not come to terms with the image of the stern unyielding King with his boy-ish good looks being compared to the cute flustered girl in front of him. He idly wondered if maybe his King's adorableness wouldn't have been a better weapon to wield against all of their enemies. "Here you go, Commander, with regards from the Governor General," he presented the trunk in front of her and propped it open to reveal its contents.
Saber got over her embarrassment and schooled her features again to look. A soft gasp escaped her lips when she saw its contents. Inside was a familiar set of battle armor, not of Stormwind's designs but of Camelot's. "How?" she breathed softly as she held up the breastplate and touched its surface. Even the markings were the same.
"It was crafted with the highest quality mithril gold could buy and has also been enchanted by several mages for additional protection," Lancelot explained. "I had it designed in this manner, as I thought it suited you best."
Nodding in understanding, Saber put the breastplate back in the trunk and looked at Lancelot. "Thank you," she said. Despite this not being her old armor, it was almost an exact replica, and she had to marvel at how great Lancelot's memory was to get the finer details right. Still, something needed to be answered. "Why am I still a Commander? And why would the Governor General gift me with this armor?"
Smirking, Lancelot answered his King. "Because, Commander, the Governor General never withdrew your commission. And as for why the battle armor, she wanted to reward you for your service."
Saber looked at the armor pensively. They had found out later from Archmage Medivh, that the greenskins they fought were called Orcs. They did not look like the Orcs from her legends.
"At first," Lancelot continued as he looked at his King. "The Governor General wanted to gift you a sword, but I mentioned that you already had one."
Saber's eyes immediately locked with those of Lancelot, tangible excitement dancing in them. He was going to take her to Caliburn! She almost couldn't believe it, but Lancelot had assured her that it was the very same Caliburn she lost so long ago.
"Also, by request of King Adamant Wrynn III and Lady Fordragon, the victors of Three Corners have been invited to a parade and banquet in their honor," Lancelot announced formally.
"Really?!" Igraine and Cecilia gasped loudly. As one they turned to look at their daughter/niece and squealed in excitement. "You're going to meet the King!"
Lancelot had to smirk at the reactions of the two women. If only they knew. "You do not have the option to decline," he added, just in case his King was contemplating not attending.
"I see, is it one of... those affairs?" Saber asked, dreading that it would be similar to the formal parties that she had to throw from time to time as King. She hated dressing up; much to the glee of Guinevere, who took great pleasure in dressing her up to be as 'dashing' as possible.
"It would be a warrior's affair, armor would be the best choice," Lancelot informed, much to the relief of his King. "I have volunteered to escort you to the celebration."
Saber sighed and knew that the topic Lancelot wanted to discuss was coming. It was inevitable. "I find it troubling that they would throw a celebration when the Orcs are still out there," she pointed out to Lancelot, who nodded. "Then there is the fact that the Black Morass is no longer safe, what about those that lost their homes?"
"I share your sentiment, as does Lady Fordragon, but the Archmage Medivh has assured us that we all but destroyed the Orcish threat," Lancelot said. He had met Medivh once before and the man exuded an aura much like Merlin, possibly even greater if his feats were to be believed. "However, we have received some good news too; Stormwind is mobilizing an expeditionary force of no less than one hundred thousand to assess the Orcish threat. Unfortunately such a call to arms will take several months at least to complete."
Nodding at the news that something would be done about the towns in Black Morass, Saber looked to her former knight. "When do we leave?"
"Right now. Gawain will go on ahead with your trunk and meet us at Goldshire," Lancelot replied as he signaled for Gawain to take the trunk away. "Lady Fordragon and the survivors of the army already left two days ago."
Saber bowed her head in respectful silence. Along with twelve thousand men, most of the mage contingent along with their cleric brethren had perished. Among the dead were Knight Commander Armin and Archmage Tobin who fell towards the battles end. She took small comfort in the fact that her friend had made it out of the battle alive, whose clerical group had been assigned to Lady Fordragon's. Had Lothar and the five thousand Brotherhood Knights not arrived when they did, Saber was not sure how long the rest would have fared. Her consolation at such losses was the damage done to the Orcish horde being far greater. Already they had counted over thirty one thousand dead and they were finding more every day. Though many of the commanders along the lines lost a great number of men, her section, though hit hard, walked away with the lowest casualties; with only one fifth of her forced killed in battle.
"The passageway to Three Corners has been sufficiently fortified, with fifteen thousand soldiers at each entry point and more in the fallback lines just in case the Orcs are not gone like the Archmage said they were," Lancelot reported.
"Then let us not waste time," Saber said as she turned to her mother and aunt. "I will be back soon, I hope."
Igraine hugged her daughter tightly, her heart swelling with pride for her daughter. "Have a safe trip, my little lioness," she whispered softly to her daughter. She only wished that Athan could have been alive to see what their daughter had become. Everywhere she has gone in Lakeshire they were talking about the Lioness of Three Corner. How she destroyed any that stood before her. How, despite being bloody, battered, and her sword broken by a monstrous Orc, she had roared loudly in defiance at the creature never once showing any fear. Then of course there was the painting that an Archmage by the name of Tobin had magically made of her before the battle.
Already many artists were making copies of it to sell. It was a picture of Arturia's profile, clad in Stormwind armor standing proudly in front of the fluttering Lion's banner with an intricately designed greatsword stabbed into the ground in front of her. The pictures showed both of Arturia's hands rested on its pommel in a ready stance, some would say in a kingly manner. Her blonde hair were tied into a bun with a blue ribbon fluttering in the wind, her emerald eyes large and luminous staring out at something unknown in the distance. It made her daughter look amazing beyond words and the troops that had fought by her side had not stopped talking about her in the taverns.
"I will, Mother," Saber agreed before giving her mother a peck on the cheek and letting go of the woman. She then turned to her aunt and gave her a hug also. "Please look after my mother."
"I will Arturia. Just be on your best behavior!" Cecilia advised her niece. Her niece and sister lived far away from the towns and cities. While politely learning courtly etiquette would not be high on their list, she could only hope that wouldn't somehow offend King Adamant.
Ruffling the hair of her two cousins she turned to Lancelot and nodded. "Let's go," she said and felt Lancelot's familiar presence behind her, to her right.
++++ Elwynn Forest, Ten Hours Later ++++
It was midday when the two riders stopped in front of a large wooden gate barring their way into Elwynn Forest with impressive wooden logs tied together stretching across to touch either side of the mountains. On the mountain's slopes were hastily constructed watchtowers made from wood while its base was being fortified with stone. Saber had to admit that she was impressed by the engineers that erected such strong defensive fortifications in so short a time frame.
"Just a moment, the lads are fixing something down by the door, something about hinges. We'll have it open in a moment!" a guard from on top the wall shouted down apologetically.
"Don't worry, take your time!" Lancelot called back affably as he and his King rested on their horses, where they could hear the sounds of cursing and hammering from behind the door.
Saber had the odd feeling that she was being watched. It was only when she felt the fifth pair of eyes on her that her attention focused on the watchtowers position along the mountain ridges. She discreetly turned her head and saw several of the guards looking at her while whispering to one another excitedly. Turning her head as if to take in other sights, Saber saw other guardsmen pointing then whispering even more excitedly while looking at her.
Finally the door swung open, allowing the two travelers entry. "Sorry about that!" the guard on top of the wall shouted, but his eyes never left the Brotherhood Knight's companion.
Lancelot grinned as he rode through with his King in tow knowing exactly why she was getting all the whispers and stares from the soldiers. 'That's right, I am riding with your Lioness of Three Corners!' he thought gleefully. One day, they would all know the greatness of his King.
Saber watched as they left the fortified encampment and was relieved to be away from all the weird stares. "Any idea what that was about Lancelot?" she asked.
"No idea, my King!" Lancelot replied jovially but he had to reign in his humor when he saw that his King narrowed her eyes dangerously. If only looks could kill... well there would have been a lot of dead people. "They wanted to meet the Lioness of Three Corners."
"Lioness of what now?" Saber asked in a confused tone. She turned to Lancelot her head tilted in a questioning manner, a habit she picked up with Shirou whenever she let down her guard. A habit that now made her absolutely adorable.
"Your Majesty, please!" Lancelot shouted as he struggled to control himself and to not hug his King. She would most likely kill him, but it would be a nice way to go! When did his King get so adorable!
In reply to the knight's plea, Saber tilted her head to the other side with an even more confused look on her face. She was then a bit startled when the Knight of the Lake unslung the shield from his horse's side and smashed his face into it. Repeatedly.
"Ow..." Lancelot groaned. Composed now, he saw his King's displeased look. That he could deal with. He must never let her know the power of her adorableness! "Anyway, you earned yourself an unofficial title, for your actions at Three Corners. You have now been coined 'The Lioness of Three Corner'."
"What?!" Saber shouted in outrage. "Why?!"
Lancelot sat taller in his saddle, grinning at his King as he tried to imitate a storyteller. "Legend has it that during the Battle of Three Corner, there was a Lioness that fought savagely to protect her Pride against the monstrous greenskins! It is said that a single swipe from her claws could cut a man in two. Though their losses were many, the monsters would not be deterred as they sent their strongest to slay it. The behemoth hammered her body, broke her claws and bloodied her proud mane, but the Lioness never faltered. Unfortunately, the greenskin, though wounded had outmatched the Lioness; it had intended to crush her with its mighty warhammer. It was then, facing death, that the Lioness let loose a loud roar of defiance. The roar from the Lioness invigorated the soldiers of Stormwind with her spirit. They rallied against the greenskins and held firm by sheer strength of will, the same strength the Lioness' roar conveyed to them. From then on she was known as the Lioness of Three Corners. That was you, Your Majesty," he saw his King's jaw was unhinged in shock.
"Wh-what?!" Saber sputtered after she recovered. She felt embarrassed and humiliated that such a tale was spreading. Then something else occurred to her. "And what do you mean by 'Legends has it'? The battle is only three weeks old!"
"It'll blow over..." Lancelot comforted seeing the distressed look on his King's face then quirked his lips upward. "Probably..."
"Is that why the towns folk were giving me weird looks?!" Saber demanded. Then another thought occurred to her. "How do they know what I looked like anyway? The soldiers and those under my command sure but the rest, like the guards we just passed?"
Lancelot wordlessly opened up his pouch and unrolled a fine silk cloth with a picture of his King. It showed his King in her usual pre-battle pose that she often did before confronting an enemy army.
"..." Saber said in muted shock. There was a picture of her looking... she didn't even have a word for it. The caption below it said 'Lioness of Three Corners'.
Rolling it back up and putting it in his pouch, Lancelot grabbed his horse's reigns and continued on as if nothing had happened. After a few hours of riding in companionable silence, they came across the next defensive line at Stonecarine River. Saluting the guards at the bridge he made a right turn and followed the river to its source.
Saber had recovered and thought about the new development. While she was perfectly willing to fight, bleed, and lead; she wasn't sure how she felt about being viewed like that. It reminded her too much of the Maid of Orleans situation. That little titbit she learned from Caster was pretty disturbing. She had been so deep in thought that she had almost failed to notice a fish creature lunging at her. Reacting on instinct she punched the creature in its face, killing it instantly. The other fish creatures, seeing what she did to one of their kind with a fist, slunk back into the water.
"Murlocs!" Lancelot spat noticing their little small huts along the rivers banks. He swore every time he razed their settlement to the ground, it would always be rebuilt as if he had never touched it.
Saber blinked and remembered having seen some near the river of her town but the guards had taken care to keep the area clear of the creatures. It was then she noticed they reached the mouth of the river. Across that river was a large mass of land, almost an island, with massive stones assembled at its outer edge in a way it reminded her of the Stonehenge of Britannia but larger.
"The water is deep, we will have to ford through it," Lancelot said as he gently eased his horse into the water. As he continued deeper into the water, he realized his King was not with him. Turning around he saw his King had stripped down to her undergarment and was putting her clothes into her saddle pouch. He knew his King was a woman, but he had NEVER seen his King as a woman. At least not until now. He never knew her skin was so white and looked so smooth, and he wondered how she could be unblemished despite all the hard fighting she had recently done. A moment later his King mounted her horse and rode into the water.
Saber looked at her former Knight and saw that his face was oddly red. Shrugging she continued on as they reached the other side of the lake on their mounts. Finally back on land, she wore the dress again.
"Your Majesty," Lancelot intoned, having finally recovered from the amazing view he had received crossing the river. He was relieved to see his King was putting on the last of her blue dress. "I hope that you remember that you are a woman and something like that should not be done so frivolously."
"Had it been with anyone else I might have had to show modesty but you are not a man," Saber replied dismissively. "You were one of the Knights of the Round. I doubt you see me in that way."
"R-right..." Lancelot mumbled not knowing how he should take the backhanded compliment.
Saber was about to say something else when something caught her attention, there in the middle of the land was a large stone, a stone with a sword embedded inside. "Caliburn..." she whispered as her feet carried her swiftly to the stone.
Lancelot had heard about this moment but he had not witnessed it. The moment his King was chosen to be King. Oddly his King had pulled up short in front of the stone.
Saber looked at the familiar sword and saw the beginning of the words etched on its blade. "Whosoe'er pulleth out this sword of this stone" carved in ancient Cymraeg. Was she worthy to wield Caliburn again? It was weaker than Excalibur to be sure but it still served her well during her early reign before breaking. How it was found and mended she did not know. Nor did it matter save that it was here.
"The people of this land do not know how this sword got here, save that it appeared at least several hundred years ago," Lancelot explained as he looked at the sword stuck in the stone. "This is one of the greatest mysteries of Stormwind Kingdom. Over the years, many have tried to pull the sword from the stone, but none have succeeded."
Saber looked up sharply to see Lancelot still looking at the majestic blade. "They tried to pull it out?" she asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lancelot said as he took off his black armor but kept his mail shirt on. Nightfall was approaching, and it would be best to camp there than go wandering in the dark. "The people of this land have tried using magic to pull the sword from the stone, and the Dwarves to the north had attempted to remove the stone from the sword using their ancient knowledge of forgeworks. Every generation of the Stormwind royal family have tried. Even Lothar and Prince Llane had their turn trying to pull the sword. The great wizard Medivh himself could not decipher the magics binding the sword to the stone. I once heard the great mage Agewyn tried her hand at it also but was unable to do anything except move the rock."
"So many tried to pull the sword from the stone, truly?" Saber asked
"Yes, Your Majesty," Lancelot replied as he finally lit a camp fire. "There was no restriction, people came from all over to try their hand at it, but all failed. It has become something of a rite of passage for many; the Brotherhood has their new recruits try their hand. I tried it myself but I knew it would not be freed by me. I believe it's been waiting for you, Your Majesty."
Saber looked at the sword. "So there is no prophecy about crowning anyone King if they pulled this sword form the stone?" she asked softly. Apparently there was something in her voice that prompted Lancelot to look up sharply.
"My King," Lancelot started, now, finally, he had an opening for the subject he wanted to discuss with his King. His betrayal and his chance for atonement. "Even if there was one, you would be a King people would follow. I would follow you again if you'd have me. I know I am asking much as it was I who crippled your reign. If not for me your kingdom would have endured."
Saber closed her eyes and turned to face Lancelot, who had laid his soul bare to her waiting for her judgment. She remembered her conversation with Berserker during the Fourth grail war of what that copy of Lancelot had said. It was time to put the matter to rest one way or another. "You know, I never at any point, once held a grudge against you and Guinevere," she said softly, the campfire illuminated her face.
"You should have, it was your right, your duty!" Lancelot half shouted before kneeling in the dirt before his King. "You should have executed us the moment you learned of our affair! Not when it became public. We would have gladly died at your judgment to preserve your kingdom."
"I know what the people have always said behind my back. That I was a cold unfeeling King," Saber commented as she turned her back to Lancelot looking up at the night sky. "Behind my back they asked, how can a King understand his people if he showed no emotion? How can a King like that rule the people? They do not realize that I do feel, Lancelot, I feel everything. Every soldier that died under my command, I grieved for them. All the towns I had to sacrifice for the greater victory I mourned them. But I was King, I cannot allow myself such luxury. Only Guinevere saw through me."
Lancelot eyes snapped up and stared at his King's back, amazed at his lord's confession. "My King?" he asked.
"Guinevere was beautiful beyond measure, she could have found happiness with ANY man but she chose to help me with my deception. She choose to wed me and forever denied herself a real husband, children to raise, a family to care for, condemned for the rest of her life to be alone. I felt guilty for that," Saber said softly. A faraway look now adorned her face. "When she found happiness in your arms, I did not begrudge her. I was happy for her. I turned a blind eye whenever I could. I WANTED her to be happy, but I had to be a strong King. So long as you two were not caught I would not have cared."
"But you should not have had to sacrifice your honor for us to do so!" Lancelot shot back full of self-loathing. The Cuckold King they called Arthur later on. He had fought any who had said so within his earshot back then. It was then his King turned to face him, the fire of the campfire danced in her emerald eyes making her look achingly beautiful.
"You do not understand. But then, both you and Guinevere never could understand my selfish reasoning," Saber admitted looking down at her knight as she too confessed her part in the whole tragedy. "I was not sacrificing anything, I was being selfish. It was my desire that you two, who had worked tirelessly for me, find a bit of happiness. I did not judge you because I was selfish in not wanting to. I did not pursue you two when you fled because I chose NOT to, in my selfishness, I stayed my hand. I wanted you two to find happiness in such a brutal world. I had hoped you two found it, but in the end, all I did was drive you into madness and lead my kingdom to ruin."
"No! It was I, the blame lay with me!" Lancelot vehemently denied with tears pouring from his eyes at the pain of his King. Who knew that his King was carrying such a burden?
"No, it was me, I could have killed you and been done with it but I choose not to, I could have saved my kingdom by simply killing you. But no, I let you go, knowing that the people would be outraged. I choose that path and it lead to the destruction of everything. I was King, the burden of responsibility lay on my shoulder alone," Saber declared with unwavering resolve as she explained her actions to her most trusted knight. "My fondest wish was for someone else to be King. Maybe someone that was wiser than me, kinder then me, a King better than I, one the people truly deserved."
Lancelot felt his heart swell with pride for his King and stood up. His King was wrong, wrong about so many things. "Your Majesty, I speak now not only for myself, but for all the soldiers who followed you. From the Knights of the Rounds down to the lowliest grunt, to the people under your rule, and even the enemies who you fought against."
Saber stared impassively at Lancelot and saw the truth in his eyes.
"King Arthur, you were without a doubt, the greatest of all Kings! All of us who served you or stood against you, felt that way, no matter what was said about you behind your back, no matter how harsh your judgment or how brutal your strategies, " Lancelot proclaimed proudly. He prostrated himself before her, his pride be damned. "I ask you now, King Arthur of Camelot, High King of Britannia, to pass judgment upon your unfaithful knight."
Saber stared at her greatest knight at one time and greatest enemy at another. This was not a copy of Lancelot, it WAS Lancelot. Though he had resolved the issue himself he still awaited her judgment. Turning back to face Caliburn, Saber reached her hand out and gripped the hilt. With just as much ease as she did the first time, she pulled the sword from the stone and watched as a golden wave of light expanded outward, illuminating everything for just a moment in its warm glow.
"My King?" Lancelot looked up just in time to see his King pull the sword from the stone once more. Her body was bathed in a glowing light as was the sword as she held it close to her face.
"Lancelot, I hereby pass judgment on you now," Saber announced imperiously like she did in Camelot and turned her hard eyes to her knight. "You will not find ANY easy or swift judgment for your guilt. You will probably spend your entire life resolving this issue but I have faith that you will."
The famed knight of Camelot bowed his head, awaiting the harshest of punishment from his King. He needed her judgment. He had followed her all the way to a different world to seek it.
"Lancelot De Luc, I, Arthur Pendragon, hereby order you to accept my forgiveness."
Lancelot raised his head up and look at his King in shock.
"You WILL accept my forgiveness, if you still feel any loyalty or respect for me, you will accept," Saber ordered the stunned knight. She knelt down on one knee and laid a soft hand on Lancelot's shoulder. "Will you do this for me, your former King?" she asked softly.
Lancelot warred with his emotions, he needed punishment yet, Arthur had given him the harshest of all punishment. Forgiveness. To live with the burden of his sins that he had committed against her. "I-I..."
"I need you to accept," Saber said softly as she squeezed his shoulder. "I need you to make peace with yourself and help me in this new and dangerous world."
"What do you mean, my King?" Lancelot asked softly as he still warred within himself whether to rail against her judgment or accept it finally.
"There is a reason why Caliburn is in this world. After seeing the Orcs, I think maybe that is why. I cannot be sure, I can only feel that Caliburn will be needed and I will wield it. I need loyal knights by my side, knights that are strong and true to me. Will you accept my judgment and be the first of those knights for me, Lancelot?" Saber looked softly at her former knight with a searching expression on her face.
"Yes, Your Majesty, I will carry out your punishment to the fullest of my ability," Lancelot accepted in a soft whisper. "And I will serve you faithfully again if you will have me as one of your knights."
"Then Lancelot De Luc," Saber proclaimed as she stood back up her full height. "I declare my judgment done. And I hereby knight you once more as Lancelot of the Lake, for it is here at this lake that you have returned to my side."
Lancelot bowed and felt the flat of Caliburn touch both of his shoulders. He had been re-knighted by his King. To serve Arthur- no Arturia again! He did not think that he could ever accept his role in what he did, but he will try to accept his King's forgiveness and no longer let it haunt him.
Nodding to herself Saber walked up to the stone slab and laid on it and closed her eyes. With Caliburn she would probably stop aging again, but there had to be a reason why she and Caliburn were sent here. She was sure of it. Did that mean Excalibur was here as well? Was it possible? Maybe more of her knights? Her head filled with such thoughts as she fell asleep.
***** Kalimdor, Caverns of Time ****
Soridormi, dragon consort of Nozdormu, raised her head from her slumber as she felt a shift in the flow of time. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. Taking on her High Elven form, she peered into the hourglass of time. What she saw there shocked her. There was no words to describe it, there was a disturbance in the timeways. This couldn't be! Azeroth was doomed if they did not correct the problem.
"Chronomoru, Arcahnos, Erozion, Vorinos, to me!" Soridormi summoned mentally and felt the four large bronze drakes appeared before her a moment later. "We have much work to do, time has changed, find the cause."
"Yes, Prime Consort!" the Four Dragons replied as one.
TBC...
Next: SW Party!
AN:
Well this chapter was cleaned up relatively fast and it was ALL due to the effort of my editors. It is only with their speed that the fics could be posted so soon. Cheeser is a new editor for the fic who like Way is very enthusiastic about making this fic shine! Thank you both!
As for the fic itself? I choose not to go with the immediate aftermath and show life for Saber in Stormwind. I guess I am trying to make them feel real. Whether I succeed or not who knows? I also mix that whole buddy relationship in there with Saber and Lancelot because it felt natural to write it like that, not overly stiff and formal but not crackish. It's fun I guess?
Also, the picture is the Saber pose we all came to know and love. It's the one where she just stands looking all sort of bad ass. That's what's being passed around :)
Now the most important issue. No doubt many are going "Wait a second, Caliburn's been there for a long time?! Say WHAT!?" Yes, it's true. Caliburn was dropped into Stonecarine for a long time now. How? What? Where? Why? For those that know WoW, time dickery isn't something new. For those that don't, Elune is not bound by time. There is a reason why she picked Arturia of all the people across time and space and yes you will know the reason. Just not now. :) Feel free to guess though!
Also for those that wonder WTF is Cymraeg? According to my little research, it's the ancient name for the Welsh language. Since Saber WAS from that timeframe, and that sword was made by Fae of the Celts. I figured I throw in some authenticity to it. If I am wrong, please feel free to give me a PM.
I also delve a bit into Orcish culture and how it relates during that time frame and what their foreign policies were like. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!
INDEX THINGY:
Yes, Saber punched a Murloc in the face and killed it. For those that played wow... damn murloc village. You know what I am talking about!
Stonecarine Lake is located in Elywnn Forest. It is an isolated mini island or patch of land with huge stones around it. What it does not have is a huge stone slab for Caliburn in it. :D
Dragons in Azeroth: There are five colors in total that are called Flights. Bronze Dragons control time and dimensions much like Zelretch's Kaleidoscope, going into different realities. Their enemies are the Infinite Dragon Flight who also jump into time and other realities at will, altering people's fate.
Garona: Actual Lore Character, Half Orc Half Draenei.
Killrogg, Zuluded, Durotan, Rend are all actual canon character.
As always C+C welcome, Reviews Appreciated. Oh and here is a little something from a friend of mine :)
A Cute Omake from UNSPACY000: I shall canonize it!
"…. cally... burrrrr..." Two year old Arturia muttered in her sleep.
"Should we put another blanket on her?" her father asked.
"No, she just says that even when she's burning up," her mother said.
"Darn... I just wanted an excuse to wrap her up in an adorable bundle again," her father admitted.
"You know what, you're right," his wife said. "I'll be right back with a blanket to do that with."