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xXx The Royal We xXx
xXx Ch. 01: Boy Meets Girls xXx
Harry Potter's eyes widened in horror as he felt a tug just below his navel even as the room around him swirled into a flurry of spinning and stomach wrenching colors that could easily be compared to the interior of a kaleidoscope. He had every right to be horrified too, while the light show was new everything else about this experience informed Harry that he had been touching a portkey and somehow activated it quite unintentionally.
Normally a portkey journey would pass remarkably swiftly, regardless of how far it was taking you, however that was something that this journey had nothing in common with. This journey seemed to take three hours to complete, if he were to guesstimate the amount of time he had been in transit. When it did end, Harry was shocked yet again when he landed in the shallows of a lake he had never before seen in his life.
He had no idea how long his shock induced stupor lasted before he realized he was being spoken to… or more precisely screeched at. That was what informed him he had wound up landing in a lake that a beautiful blonde girl had been skinny dipping in.
The problem was that the girl was screeching at him in a language he had never heard, but which at the same time sounded like it was related to Welsh in some manner. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what your saying…"
Frowning at him for a moment, the girl switched to a different language, one that he recognized instantly, "Quid?"
Harry would probably have to thank Sir Nicholas for teaching him proper Latin, even if it was what is termed Vulgar Latin, when he next saw him, as that would be the only thing that would allow him to interact with this girl… for now. Switching to the language in question he said "Sorry, I didn't understand the language you were speaking."
The girl scowled at him while remarking, "Your tongue was just as unfamiliar to me. Now would you kindly avert your eyes while I locate my dress?"
Harry took a page out of his godfather's book and looked the girl's body up and down memorizing every gorgeous detail he could before doing what she asked. Her flush of embarrassment as he did that was a beautiful thing, even if it did get him attacked by the girl later on.
He waited patiently as he listened to her dressing herself. The outfit had to be one of the frilliest things he had ever heard of judging by the sounds it was making as she put it on. Not long after the ruffling sounds became far less noticeable, she spoke again, "Who are you?"
Assuming that was her giving him permission to face her again, he did so and found himself at a loss for words. While the words 'beautiful' described her facial features and figure, the outfit she was dressed in was nothing more or less than absolutely freaking "ADORABLE!"
"Huh?" the girl questioned. "That word… what language was that?"
Harry blushed having slipped back into the Queen's English quite by accident, "I think the translation would be 'Bella' which is something I refuse to call you or any other girl I find attractive."
And that caused her to blush as well. "You find me attractive?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Harry wondered. "My name's Harrius Potter by the way."
"Muirgen," the girl offered her own name. It wasn't a name Harry would have recognized under ordinary circumstances, but the fact that he found himself conversing with a girl in Latin due to the fact that it was probably the only dialect they shared in common…
Well something like that succeeded in cluing him in to who this girl was, and he just blinked at her for several seconds and then remarked, "I'll do whatever it takes to help you achieve your goals, so long as it doesn't result in the destruction of Camelot."
"What's a come-a-lot?"
Harry blinked at that question for several seconds before cracking up in laughter. "Are you laughing at me?"
"No!" Harry exclaimed. "I'm laughing because I now know for certain Merlin is a PERVERT!"
"Who?"
Harry blinked in confusion, "Hmm, if memory serves he is the progeny of an incubus raping a nun or princess or something like that."
"Do you mean Myrddin Wyllt?" the girl asked. When Harry nodded his head, she scowled and said, "Right I think we need to head to visit Hogwarts…"
"What year is this?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Five-hundred fifty-three anno domini according to the morons in Rome," the girl Harry had identified as Morgan Le Fay informed him of.
"Right, well that means Hogwarts shouldn't exist yet, so I'm now out of my depth," Harry remarked.
"Can you actually Apparate?"
"No," Harry admitted. "Or at least I haven't tried to do so yet."
"UGH!" Morgan groaned in frustration. She extended one of her arms and ordered him to "Grab on."
Harry ignored her arm and grabbed her around the waist pulling her close to him. "I'm sorry, Morgan, but I'd likely have fallen off your arm mid transit knowing my history with magical transportation methods."
She was once again blushing, but rather than getting upset she simply sighed before drawing them into an apparition vortex.
"Itty bitty baby Hogwarts!" Harry exclaimed in an amused manner. In his time period, Hogwarts was a massive hodgepodge of a wide assortment of architectural styles, and had been being drenched in the magical energy of adolescent spellcasters for centuries, granting it a level of sentience and mobility that was virtually unheard of anywhere else. Right now it was basically just the Great Hall and a few attending structures meant to serve the dual function as education and sleeping spaces. In essence Hogwarts was nothing more than the magical counterpart to an Abbey and the accompanying Basilica in this time period.
"I think the first person we shall visit is Lady Ravenclaw. She at least might be able to understand the language you keep reverting back to."
"Lead the way," Harry suggested, not letting go of her waist, causing Morgan to blush a whole heck of a lot harder.
When they reached the classroom/quarters of Lady Ravenclaw they were just in time to nearly be bowled over by a girl that seemed to be just thirteen years old and who was crying her heart out. Morgan all but shoved Harry off of her as she grabbed the girl and pulled her into a hug, "Helena, what's the matter?"
"Mother has betrothed me to that bastard!" Helena Ravenclaw wailed into Morgan's substantially larger chest.
Harry was only now beginning to realize that Morgan was probably a bit older than the age she appeared to resemble, given the fact that she was rumored to be a fairy of one sort or another. He could very well be hitting on a woman that comparative to himself was the same age as Voldemort, and yet that did not bother him in the slightest bit. What bothered him was that he recognized the girl in her arms, and judging by her reaction to the betrothal, he can begin to understand what led to her becoming a ghost.
"I have a distinct urge to challenge whoever this bastard is to an honor duel." Harry remarked.
Both Helena and Morgan turned their attention to Harry, and their facial expressions told him that they thought he was crazy for making such a suggestion. Morgan however, remarked, "Make the challenge, survive the duel, and then I'll allow you to court me as openly as you have been."
"Deal."
"Muirgen, does he know who it is that I'm betrothed to?"
"No, and that's why I'm giving him that offer as a reward should he succeed. He's been being very open about his desire to bed me."
Helena and Harry both blushed over her admission, though in Harry's case it was mostly because he had to admit he was being a bit more open about his attraction to her than he would have been with any of the girls in his own time period. But that had to do with the fact that he was basically an unknown entity in this time period, lending to him a freedom he never had before.
Harry paused as something on his body shifted and a cloak materialized out of nowhere. As soon as he realized the nature of the cloak he was now wearing, he grinned and remarked, "Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Though the question is how you got here."
Almost at the same time the door to the room Helena had come from slammed open, as the 'bastard' himself exited. "Ah, Lady Muirgen, how charming to see…"
The man's greeting was abruptly cut off by Harry hissing out words that few people in the world would be able to understand, the man in front of him was one such person due to having spent as much time around Salazar Slytherin as he did in his youth, "Sattma hud eh dra yvvyenc uv tnykuhc, vun oui yna lnihlro yht dycda kuut fedr gadlrib."
Morgan didn't understand the words per se, but she now had a new appreciation for the boy from the future. However before she could comment, the high pitched sounding voice of one who delved too deeply into the dark arts drawled, "If that was your idea of a challenge, boy…"
"Oh, let me try again…" Harry apologized to Salazar, before turning his attention back to the future ghost known as the Bloody Baron and hissing the words, "Oui yna brocelymmo nabimceja, ehdammaldiymmo nadyntat, oui'na sunymmo nabnarahcepma, jimkyn, ehcahcedeja, camvecr, cdibet, oui ryja hu dycda, y muico cahca uv risuin yht oui csamm. Oui'na hud ajah ehdanacdehk ahuikr du syga sa celg." He then looked in the future Dark Lord's direction and asked, "Better?"
Any response Salazar was going to make was cut off before he could form the words, when a beautiful redhead shoved him out of the way while exiting the room so she could stare at Harry for several moments before demanding, "Did you just quote Witches of Eastwick… in Parseltongue of all things?"
Harry was stunned at the appearance of this woman, "Okay, what the hell? Does… does this make Helena my sister?"
Rowena Ravenclaw frowned as the Diadem on her head explained to her what he was asking her. "I look exactly like your mother?"
"Well, maybe aged by a few years beyond what she looked like when I was a toddler," Harry agreed.
Rowena sighed, "No she isn't your sister, but maybe more of a very distant aunt or cousin if I am right. It does give you a legitimate right to challenge the betrothal agreement though."
"How did you not foresee this?" the moron that Harry had challenged to a duel was now officially going to duel demanded.
Rowena shrugged, "Truthfully, the only reason I was even humouring this betrothal was that the bride price you agreed to was more than worth the insult."
"Morgan, what is a bride price?" Harry inquired.
"Opposite of a dowry."
Harry blinked before asking, "Helena, did you know that he was being forced to pay a bounty for you?"
"No, and I don't care, I hate him!" Helena retorted while sticking her tongue out at Harry in a childish manner.
"Right, name your weapon of choice, time and place for this duel, moron." Harry spoke up. He frowned and asked, "Wait, did I just speak the local dialect without intending to?"
"Small bit of charm work on my part to make your life in this time period easier," Rowena admitted. "From now on any language you are exposed to, you'll become fluent for conversation purposes not long after. However you'll still have to study to learn how to read and write those languages. I'm good but not that good."
The moron smirked, "We settle this with a contest of swordsmanship in two hours. The location will be the school's courtyard."
"Interesting choice of weapon considering in my timeline I used a sword to kill Salazar's pet basilisk."
"HIS WHAT?" Rowena shrieked as she turned to look at her longtime friend and colleague with horror and a bit of hatred.
"You killed a basilisk… with a sword?" Morgan asked in a star struck manner.
"Hmm, if my understanding of the measurement is right, the snake had grown to be about 30 cubits long by the time I killed it." Harry admitted.
"Impossible, a basilisk of such size would have an impenetrable hide." Salazar declared authoritatively.
The attention of every single female in that corridor was now locked on Harry, and it was Helena who spoke first, "Any doubts I had over whether Harry would succeed at defeating Sir Waldo are now replaced by my concern over whether or not I want such a psychotic champion."
"What is it we are missing here?" the now identified Waldo wondered.
"What we just realized is that the thing that pretty much every predatory animal, magical or mundane, shares in common, is that they are most vulnerable in the location where they are most dangerous. Their mouths." Rowena admitted.
Waldo snarled out the words, "Hardly swordsmanship at all then. I'll see you in two hours."
Harry frowned at the man as he stormed off. "Idiotic moron."
"You haven't ever learned how to fight with a sword, have you?" Morgan inquired with actual concern in her voice.
Harry snickered, "He would have to succeed in catching me before he is able to hit me with a sword."
Rowena frowned as soon as she heard that, "You can't possibly mean…"
Salazar broke out in cackling laughter, "Waldo puts too much emphasis on his skill with a sword, and not enough on training his stamina, so naturally this will cause him problems."
Harry stood in the courtyard, he now had a set of garments that were far more appropriate to the era he found himself in crafted from pure magic itself by the girl he had every intention of courting. This was in addition to the silky fabric of the cloak that he had discovered to be a closely guarded and very old family secret within his paternal family after discussing the matter with his godfather Sirius Black. Sirius wasn't even confident that it had been Dumbledore who had the cloak up until Harry's first year, even if that had been the most likely probability.
"You would fight without donning armor?" Waldo demanded incredulously.
"Naturally," Harry agreed. He drew his sword and growled out "Avast, ye scurvy dog."
Rowena blinked at the insult Harry had just used, which he had to speak in the dialect of his day and age due to the fact that there weren't really any equivalent terms. Her diadem was acting as a translation matrix for her so she was the only person who understood what he had said, "I suppose I should enact the same charm on you two as I did on him, so that you can understand him when he talks in his native dialect, shouldn't I?"
"I'd appreciate it," Morgan agreed.
"Me too," Helena urged.
Waldo had just made his first attempt to cut Harry in half, only for Harry to dodge the strike by way of having already run halfway to the other side of the courtyard by the time the sword passed through the air where he had been standing. "I thought we were to duel?"
"You heard what my choice of tactics was with a basilisk, yes? Well I've also wrestled a fully mountain troll, out-flown a dragon on an enchanted broom, and survived an instantly lethal curse impacting my forehead when I was but a toddler."
"You lie!" Waldo roared as he lunged at Harry with his sword, and Harry was yet again halfway to the other side of the courtyard before he got anywhere close.
"Row, was any of what he just said true?" Godric Gryffindor inquired. All four of the founders of Hogwarts had turned up to observe this debacle.
"Every single word," the redhead admitted with a look of horror etched across her face. "All of that happened in this very school too… well except the instantly lethal curse part."
Suddenly a golden light erupted as Waldo's sword was intercepted by one wielded by someone other than Harry. Someone that promptly declared, "Attacking an unarmed opponent is cowardly and dishonorable!"
Harry's eyes widened as he suddenly felt like he was seeing double. His savior had to be closely related to Morgan since they looked virtually identical. The main difference was that Morgan's hair was left unbound and her wardrobe was black, blue and silver, colors that marked her as being a favorite of Rowena Ravenclaw, while the newcomer was dressed in a pristine white armored dress that looked rather similar to a bridal gown.
Harry turned to Rowena, who was the only person that might understand his confusion, "Is this girl really who I presume it must be?"
Rowena actually giggled in a rather childish manner, "Yes Harry, she is exactly who you think she is."
"If you want to avoid me permanently calling you 'Queen Wart', then you'll let me continue fighting the way I've chosen to fight," Harry threatened.
"You wouldn't dare…"
"Sister dearest, he's performing this spectacle in hopes that I will let him court me. Now stop being a pest."
Artoria Pendragon hadn't even realized that her elder half-sister was actually watching this. She had seen a swordsman making sport of an unarmed mage and rushed in to protect him like any responsible knight would do. "He.. you…"
"Come hither," Morgan exclaimed while lacing her voice with the hypnotic magic that would cause most who heard it to become putty in her hands if it had been directed at them. Morgan's choice of words told Harry that she was actually interested in Artoria in a romantic context, even if her tone of voice had been demanding rather than flirtatious. That might be worth looking into.
The thing one has to understand is that while Artoria is highly resistant to magic, as are most people who could become Saber Servants in a Grail War, she's not exactly immune to the phenomena either, and Morgan was receiving a huge boost in power from the planet that Artoria simply lacked, due to her nature as an Incarnated Elemental, or what is more commonly known as a "Great Fairy."
Artoria stood absolutely no chance of resisting her sister's alluring voice, and by the time she came out of the zonked out state it put her in, the fight was already over. "WHAT? But… how is this possible?"
"The imbecile should have spent more time jogging around the lake and less time perfecting his technique," Godric Gryffindor admitted. "In war the victor is determined more by what armor they chose to wear and how physically fit they are not by how flawless a swordsman they are. Surely Ector taught you that lesson?"
Artoria knew when she was being chastised for doing something she really shouldn't have done, "Sorry. What exactly did I intrude on?"
"First, is that really Caliburn?" Rowena inquired.
Artoria nodded her head in agreement. "Well then, the correct way to stop that conflict would have been to declare yourself the sovereign of this region. Although…"
"If she had done that, Morgan and I would have had our first legitimate argument of course," Harry remarked. "Morgan may I introduce you to the founder of a city whose name you mispronounced as Come-A-Lot."
Rowena frowned, "Please tell me you didn't just say what I think you just said, Harry."
"At the future Come-A-Lot, there will be a round table around which all the knights of the land will be viewed as equals to the sovereign, and one of these Knights will have the name of Lance-A-Lot."
"That charm that is allowing me to understand what he is saying, seems to be broken, mother."
"It's not broken, dear. I didn't account for him being able to do what he is doing with proper nouns. Proper nouns that aren't even what we would use for the place and person that he is referring to."
"I'm not going to ask you to tell us what the equivalent words are, mostly cause I fear his presence in our era has ensured we'll never use those words. But can you, please, please please, allow me to understand what it is he is doing with what you are describing as proper nouns," Morgan begged of Rowena. "I would also ask that you teach me the charm you've used so I can duplicate it on anyone I feel deserves to know how to converse with him in his language."
Rowena sighed and waved a hand in Morgan's direction. She then did the same for Artoria, mostly because she had this feeling that Artoria was now stuck with these two as part of her future.
"I SAID WHAT?!"
xXx Chapter Concluded xXx
Author's Note 1: For those who might want to know, Artoria has only JUST plucked Caliburn from out of the stone, and came straight to Hogwarts because she considers it to be the one place where she might find people who won't try and force her to be something she isn't prepared to be. In other words, she's doing exactly what her counterpart in Disney's Sword in the Stone did by hiding inside that cathedral after plucking the eponymous sword from the eponymous stone, hiding from a burden no one prepared her to carry.
That means that Artoria is chronologically 16 years old. In the continuities where she gets summoned to the Fourth and Fifth Holy Grail Wars by the two Emiya gentlemen, that is the age she appears to be due to the fact that her use of Caliburn and later Excalibur halted her aging process, though that might actually have been a result of having Avalon in close proximity to her throughout her lifetime.
Chronologically speaking, Morgan had been about 6 years old when her sister was conceived and her father essentially murdered.
Author's Note 2: As a reminder to those who feel it necessary to leave reviews that critique my fics to the point of correcting everything I write. I do have a Discord Server, and am more than happy to have the help of more Beta Readers. The discord server can be found using the following chopped up URL:
discord (d o t) gg (slash) Dzk7nJ3
