I'm gratified at the reception this version got, and I'm glad that changing the concept seems to have been the right choice for this story. Hopefully, we can see a full version being published. Hell, maybe I might keep a full version aside as a Christmas present for you guys.
Now, while this is mostly Nasuverse characters transplanted into the Potterverse, I may yet bring a few Nasuverse concepts into it, like Heroic Spirits. The Grail Wars never took place though...but maybe we could see Arturia having an unwelcome reunion with one of her old friends, a la Fate/Zero...
In case you're wondering why Arturia and Mordred are a bit OOC, well, the latter is, admittedly, because I am yet to watch Fate/Apocrypha, beyond some videos on YouTube. The reason why Mordred even tolerates Harry/Salazar calling her a girl is that, during their meetings in Arthurian times, Salazar managed to reassure her that he didn't think her any less a warrior. To Salazar, Mordred was the closest thing he had to a daughter or a neice, though they weren't on very close terms. However, they were close enough that Harry/Salazar regrets her death, and blames Morgan for the civil war than Mordred herself. Arturia is a little OOC because, well, one, it's her oldest friend she is talking to, so she's relaxed a little, and two, she knows that Camelot has fallen, and there's little she can do about it (because, well, no Holy Grail to give her a time travel Macguffin). She's also relaxing a little in her attitude towards Mordred. She's still angry at Mordred, but she also has enough self-control to realise other parts of the problem. Oh, she and Mordred will have a major row later, as will she and Harry...but things will work out. For now, she's at least acknowledging Mordred as her child openly
Also, that little bit at the end, with Merlin's 'prank'? That comes from Dis Lexic's challenge. I very nearly didn't put it in, but decided, what the hell.
KING OF HIS HEART (REVISED)
CHAPTER 2:
REUNION
Harry…yes, that's all he could think of himself as. He'd spent admittedly less years alive as Harry Potter than as Salazar Slytherin, but it was enough for his identity as Harry to solidify. His memories of being Salazar Slytherin only added to the sum totality of him. Then again, in many ways, they were more alike than they cared to imagine.
The part of him that was Harry Potter found it astonishing that much of what the history books said about Slytherin was false, or at least exaggerated. True, Salazar Slytherin hated Muggles, but then again, he hated wizards as well. He was mostly a misanthrope who made exceptions to the rule. . Then again, when you were the bastard offspring of a so-called Pureblood line born when your father raped a Muggle woman, and were treated like dirt by relatives both magical and mundane, it was rather hard not to be. Especially when you were bullied by a boy by the name of Godric Gryffindor, who himself had been orphaned by the Slytherin line.
One of his few friends in the village was a girl with golden hair and eyes as emerald as his own. The foster daughter of Sir Ector, and the adoptive sister of the boy who would become Sir Kay. Arturia, she was called. After they became friends, he'd often call her 'Ria', and she 'Sal'. She was the one who kept him out of the darkness he nearly fell into…only to find she had a higher calling. He'd warned her, and so did Merlin, that bloody effeminate cambion troll, that she'd be sacrificing a lot to become king. But she had seen the suffering of the people, mundane and magical alike, and wished to put an end to that.
So dutiful. She pulled Caliburn from the stone. On that day, Ria ceased to be, and King Arthur took her place.
He admired her from afar, and while he never became a fixture at Camelot, they met at times. He was one of the few whom she allowed any cracks in that façade of perfection to show. He'd advised her to not to show that ridiculous perfection, the one that might alienate her subjects, but she refused. And then, the rows. The last one, where accusations had been made of Salazar murdering one of her trusted knights, was the last straw. Arturia had been forced to exile him to save face, even though she knew that Salazar would never had done such a thing. At the time, Salazar suspected Morgan le Fay to be responsible for that. In truth, it had been Godric Gryffindor.
And then, the civil war caused by Mordred, with her mother, Morgan Le Fay, pulling the strings. Mordred, who only wanted to be acknowledged as worthy, but Arturia, knowing Mordred would not be a good king, refused her time and again. Sal had met Mordred on several occasions, and knew that Mordred had no real malice, just an ambition, a desire to be noticed, acknowledged, and, Sal was sure, loved. And had Arturia been any more flexible, she could have at least returned it. She never hated Mordred, but she never showed her the warmth her daughter desired, the acknowledgement, beyond Mordred's skill as a warrior.
And then, he was pleaded with to return. And he did so, only for Godric to intercept them, killing the knights and mages with him, and declaring that Salazar would never have Arturia, for Arturia was Godric's, and his alone, and if he couldn't have her, then nobody would.
That battle between them never made it into the songs or history books. They said Salazar merely slunk off in cowardly disgrace over blood purity. How ludicrous.
Even now, he wasn't in full command of his memories, to say nothing of his abilities. Only some memories stood out, and some of the spells he remembered, he knew he wasn't quite powerful enough to use them. His magic needed more training first.
Still, it was good to see her again. And not just Arturia, but Mordred as well. Okay, Mordred tried to kill Arturia (and certainly landed a mortal blow), but Mordred was a tool of Morgan.
"So, where are we, anyway?" Mordred asked, wrinkling her nose as she peered out into the darkness beyond the chamber. "Smells like something the Kneazle dragged in and pissed all over."
"My little secret lair beneath Hogwarts," Harry said. "The Chamber of Secrets. Only my line hijacked it. Frankly, I don't know how you two ended up here in the first place."
He looked over at Arturia, and gave her a sad smile, one she returned. That little tuft of golden hair sprouting from her noggin like an insect's antenna. He remembered teasing her about it, while she just teased him about his unruly hair. It was so wonderful to see her actually looking human, instead of that stern, kingly demeanour. "You've changed, Sal," she said. "You're young again…and yet your eyes…"
"It's a long story, Ria. The last memory I have of you is of your corpse. I managed to arrive just as Bedivere was leaving. He told me. I'd wished I had dabbled in the same sort of arts the rest of my accursed family had in, if it meant bringing you back. So, instead, I went after Morgan."
"…You killed her," Arturia said. It wasn't a question.
"Not before torturing her. The irony is, she killed me with a Basilisk she had tamed. But before I died, I used the cursed flames of Fiendfyre."
"Whoa-ho! Hardcore stuff right there, Salazar!" Mordred chuckled. "Still, couldn't have happened to a nicer person. I mean…I realised Mum was playing me…but by the time I did, I didn't care anymore."
"And what of the people of Britain?" Arturia asked archly.
"Hey, don't you start, Father! Or do you need reminding? 'The King does not understand human feelings'," Mordred quoted mockingly, her teeth bared in a snarl.
Before the argument could get anywhere, Harry snapped, "Oi! Stop that. I would've thought you two would be satisfied with your mutual kill at Camlann. You're not here to continue that! Anyway, it's been centuries since Camlann. Britain's still around."
"And what of Camelot?" Arturia asked.
"Lost to the ages. Or maybe it's under a Fidelius," Harry said. "Merlin, or a projection of him, was here just before you two awoke…and I regained myself. He said that, once you two awoke, he said I'd know where Excalibur and Avalon were. I presume he meant the sheath of Excalibur, not the isle of Avalon." He frowned. "Then again, I vaguely recall Avalon being associated with Glastonbury Tor. Maybe we should go there first. Well, we need to find a way to explain you two to the other students here. We'd need clothes. And I know what you're thinking, Mordred. I've seen what you wear under your armour. Even these days, it's considered a bit scandalous."
Mordred scoffed, her armour fading away in a flare of light to reveal…well, somewhat revealing clothes for a girl in her mid-teens. Basically, it amounted to little more than a strapless sports bra, sleeves, leggings and a vaguely skirt-like assortment of cloths. "Not for a man," Mordred retorted.
"Look, Mordred, we've been over this. You're a young woman." He matched Mordred's automatic glare with an unimpressed look. "People are either going to stare, or want you. And they're going to call you a woman anyway, including some good friends of mine. This is an age where, theoretically, women can be warriors and not be looked down upon. Anyway, you know I didn't give a damn about Ria or you being women knights."
Mordred, after a moment, clicked her tongue. "You're lucky I liked you, Salazar. Anyone else said that crap to me, and I would have unmanned them."
"This isn't the Dark Ages anymore. Impromptu castrations are generally frowned upon these days in civilised society," Harry snarked.
"Even of rapists?" Mordred asked.
"Sadly, yes. I won't say no, though, only just you be discreet."
"Sal, don't encourage Mordred's bad habits," Arturia said with a sigh, dispelling the armoured part of her dress for now.
"Oh, wow, is Father actually trying to live up to the name?" Mordred asked, crossing her arms. "It's…how many centuries since Camlann again? So it's a bit late for you to start being a parent!" She shook her head in disgust. "Okay, so I'll dress in other clothes for now."
"Hmm…Dobby!" Harry called out. Dobby appeared, and stared at the two girls…well, one girl, and a woman with the body of a teenaged girl. "Dobby…these two are Arturia and Mordred. Now…I need some Hogwarts uniforms in their sizes. And that doesn't mean stealing it from others."
Dobby's eyes widened. "The Once and Twice King, and his son…her daughter?" Mordred growled at the House Elf.
However, Arturia knelt down, and smiled at the House Elf. "One of the Fae's servitors," she mused. "Well met, Dobby. Would you kindly get my child and I some suitable clothes?"
"Dobby will do that, Miss Arty!" nodded the House Elf eagerly. "Oh, and by the way, congratulations!"
As the House Elf disappeared, Arturia frowned. "Congratulations? What do you think he meant by that?"
"Whatever. You know, that's the first time you've ever really called me your child," Mordred said.
"And? I never disavowed you as my child, Mordred, only as my heir."
Harry interposed himself between Mordred and Arturia. "Mordred, Ria…please. Do you want to spend your new life bickering? Seriously, things must've gone very badly wrong if I'm meant to be the peacemaker."
This had Arturia smiling a little wryly. "…Yes. I remember the rows you had with almost everyone. I remember you threatening Sir Ector, intending to, and I quote, 'shove your sword where the sun doesn't shine', when you were arguing about the reputation of Queen Boudicca."
"Whereupon he promptly whacked me with the flat of his sword and said, 'Uppity punk, I'd love to see you try!'," Harry said with a rueful smile. "He was an arse, but he at least treated me better than half the people there. A wizard and a bastard and a Slytherin. Three strikes against me."
"…And this life?"" Arturia asked quietly.
Harry stilled, and then looked at Arturia, weariness in his emerald eyes. "I was orphaned thanks to a deranged Blood Supremacist warlock calling himself Voldemort who claimed to be the heir of Slytherin, just because he was a Parselmouth. He's also a Halfblood, not a Pureblood. My Muggle relatives treated me like a live-in servant, making my bedroom a small boot cupboard. Half the time, the British wizards can't make up their tiny little minds as to whether I'm Merlin's second coming, or Slytherin's. And I mean that damned nephew who stole my name. I'm a celebrity for something my mother in this life probably died doing. At least you chose to remove Caliburn from the stone, Ria."
Arturia looked down to her sword in her hand. While Excalibur was her most famous sword, Caliburn, the Sword in the Stone, was her preferred sword, albeit for sentimental reasons. Unfortunately, it had been lost during one battle. Some legends claimed it had been shattered, and yet, here it was.
"So…what do we do about this Voldemort?" Mordred asked.
"Step One: Find Excalibur, Avalon and/or Avalon. Step Two: I dunno yet. Step Three…"
"Profit?" Mordred asked.
"No, we deal with Voldemort for once and for all," Harry said. "Still…that's something I should be grateful to my memories of my past life. I'd bet he made Horcruxes. That diary was probably one of them," he mused out loud. "Then again, Excalibur's full blast could burn through the links he has to the Horcruxes."
"Horcruxes?" Mordred asked.
"Merlin spoke to me of them once," Arturia said with a scowl. "They are a type of phylactery, a receptacle for one's soul in order to ensure immortality…except you fracture it via the vilest of magical rituals combined with cold-blooded murder. Herpo the Foul was rumoured to be one of the first to create them, if not their originator."
Mordred stared at her 'father' incredulously. "…Seriously? Some morons go so far as to split their soul to be immortal? I don't think even Mother went that far." She looked down at her own sword. "I wonder if my sword would be enough to do the same. Still…it would be more than enough to deal with any pathetic warlocks of this age." Then, her green eyes caught a glimpse of something she hadn't noticed on Harry's hand. "Hey…Salazar, did you get wed in this life or not? Only, I'm pretty sure a ring should only be there if you're wed."
Harry looked at his hand startled. Sure enough, there was a simple ring. On his ring finger. And then, on an impulse, he looked at Arturia's hand, now uncovered by gauntlets…and saw a similar ring. Arturia looked shocked, and Mordred snickered. She then wandered over to a bier, and looked at where her head had been resting. "Hah! There's a letter from Merlin here. Must've left it here when he revived us. To Mordred, you may read the letter within out loud, because I know you'll enjoy doing so."
She shrugged, and opened the envelope, cleared her throat, and began speaking. "To Arturia Pendragon, and Salazar Slytherin, aka Harry Potter. Now, as you have doubtless noticed by now, you each have wedding rings. My doing, I'm afraid. Consider this part of my penance for setting Arturia on the path of the king, and separating you, when in truth, you should have been together. Then again, it's going to be amusing watching your faces when you realise you are now bound in magical matrimony. You're welcome, by the way. An acquaintance by the name of Zelretch suggested this."
"…I am going to sodomise him with his own staff," Harry said in a flat tone.
"Hey, there's more, don't interrupt! On a more serious note…I might be able to free myself soon. I hope. Voldemort, I fear, is far from your only serious foe. Harry, Arturia…I hope you two find the happiness in this life that you never could all those centuries ago. And the same goes for you, Mordred. Yours sincerely, Merlin Ambrosius."
"…Sideways," Harry added. "I mean…it's not that I don't want to be with you, Ria, but…"
"I understand. Merlin has taken a major liberty," Arturia said, with considerable understatement. "Still…there are many far worse whom I could be bound to," she added ruefully, looking at the simple ring on her finger. "We'll consider what to do about this later. The hour is late, and while we have slept enough for many lifetimes, fatigue is the enemy."
"Along with hunger, lack of awareness, mosquitoes, pebbles in shoes…" Harry snarked, thinking back to all the little things Arturia would claim to be the enemy. Still, it was good to have her back.
Now, the real problem was, how to explain the pair of them to everyone else?
CHAPTER 2 ANNOTATIONS:
How indeed?
No numbered annotations this time.
