Ongoing Path - Braveheart Universe
By Stargatesg1fan1
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Braveheart or any recognized characters or plots within.
AN:
Murron is played by Catherine McCormack
Princess Isabelle is played by Sophie Marceau
End AN
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Scotland
When Harry arrived in his latest universe he found himself standing in a glade in the moonlight with a beautiful woman standing beside him wearing a simple white dress. It took the young god a moment to realize there was also a priest present speaking in Latin. The words were translated into the Queen's English in Harry's mind a second after that. Harry was getting married or more importantly William Wallace, Harry's counterpart, and now Harry himself was getting married to a young Scottish farmer's daughter named Murron.
The powerful god took a moment to analyze his bride to be and his memories of her. Their romance had been a whirlwind affair, William having only been back in his village of birth for several weeks. But it was easy to see that Murron loved William and William her. She was an attractive woman; that fact was plain to any eye. But the immortal looked deeper into the very essence of Murron's very mind and soul. Murron was loyal, kind, hard working, and intelligent in an unassuming sort of way. The green eyed god found himself loving Murron for the same reasons his counterpart had before the merger. As such the now kilt wearing Harry came back to attention just in time to say that he would take Murron's hand in marriage. When the bride said she wanted to be the immortal male's wife as well the ceremony was complete.
The empathic god sensed Murron's happiness as their handfasting ceremony was complete. Neither newlywed noticed as the smiling priest left. Harry picked Murron up and carried her the short distance over several hills to the forest right beside a large pond. Murron stripped facing away from her husband while Harry did the same, admiring her lean feminine form.
Insert Smut Scene Here (See hpfanficarchive or ficsite version for erotic content)
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The next morning…
The next morning when they awoke Harry's new wife took care of his morning wood before the sex god helped her dress. Murron then returned the favor. Wearing the kilt and other Scottish attire would take a little time to get used to.
"I love you and do not want to be parted from you," Murron whispered after the couple was dressed.
"Do not worry my love…I will not stray far from you," Harry assured her while mentally tasking Aristotle with attaching a replicat to guard his new wife.
Just in case a replicat wasn't enough Harry reached over their bond and accessed Murron's nanite library of powers. Selecting the powers of a Kryptonian and restricting all abilities but the invulnerability until she either had desperate need of them or was told of her husband's true nature Harry was satisfied his lover would be safe.
Harry took Murron back to the village before silently following her from afar as she went about her chores. She was walking through the village carrying a basket of cabbages. Harry watched her pause to look at something before she sensed his gaze. When she turned and saw him the mage smiled, earning a bright smile from Murron in return. The young woman was so beautiful. The couple walked closer together.
"Can I see you again tonight?" Harry inquired.
"I can't," Murron answered, regret evident in her tone. "My father is growing suspicious."
"I think his suspicions have something to do with the glow about you. You are clearly a woman who is extremely happy," the warlock teased.
"And why wouldn't I be," Murron replied with one raised eyebrow. "Tonight," she finally promised.
As Harry walked away Aristotle warned, "Sir one of those guards has been watching you and Murron for the last seventy-two seconds. I can sense his ill intent."
"Thanks for the warning my friend," Harry answered before he turned and focused his powerful senses on the mortal that was about to piss a god off.
"Where are you going lassie?" The ugly British guard interrogated Murron as she tried to walk on about her business. "Oh that looks heavy…let me help you with it," the chain mail clad guard said as he made to take the basket.
"It's alright," Murron answered, drawing her cargo away.
Laughing at her, the guard cut off her path before telling Murron, "Aww…you remind me of my daughter back home."
Harry idly wondered if the guard raped his daughter as well. Murron saw the two other guards approaching from behind so walked quickly off to her left up between a row of huts. The first guard circled around behind. In a blur of motion Harry was invisible and standing behind the guard.
"Hello lassie," the first offender said to Murron, breathing down her neck and cutting off her escape, the other two guards coming up behind her.
When the creepy guard threw Murron's basket down Harry's new wife hauled off and hit him across the jaw. If her Kryptonian strength had been unleashed the man would be a smear on the beautiful woman's hand. Instead Harry channeled his love and courage across the bond to his wife. The wife of the divine being appeared to calm instantly. The guard didn't notice as he grabbed Murron and wrestled her to the ground, falling on top of her. Neither Murron nor the creepy guard noticed as the necks of the other two guards snapped at the command of Harry's telekinesis. The sorcerer then focused in on the mortal he now knew from the dead men's minds was named Smithe. Smithe tried to kiss his wife as she pushed at his chest while screaming. Reaching down Harry wrapped his hand around Smithe's neck from behind and ripped the mortal off of his mate.
"Meet me at the grove love. I've got some trash to take care of," Harry instructed as he reached down and pulled his lover to her feet while holding the gasping for air Smithe at arms length.
Murron looked uncertain for a moment before running off towards the forest. Harry turned his attention back to Smithe.
"Scream for me bitch," Harry urged with a positively feral smile gracing his handsome face.
As he let off his grip just enough for Smithe to scream the young god brought his knee up into Smithe's groin while channeling a very weak reductor into the man's pelvis. Smithe's testicles exploded in his sack as his pelvic bone turned to dust. Smithe's blood curdling scream was music to Harry's ears and served to bring every guard within hearing distance (which was quite far considering the volume of the scream) running. Before they reached him Harry brought more of his power to bear and channeled a curse into the mortal.
From that moment when he chose to anger an Ascended god until the end of the Earth as it was swallowed by an expanding yellow star into a red giant Smithe would walk the third world orbiting Sol with a ruined pelvis. Neither starvation, injury, nor the immense heating up of the Earth over the next million years would give Smithe respite in death. Smithe's pelvis would not heal. Every time from that moment on he even thought of injuring an innocent pain greater than the cruciatus would wrack Smithe's body. Whenever Smithe thought of being sexual with another human his groin would explode in pain. Never again would Smithe rape another being.
Satisfied with his punishment Harry made his way back down to the main walkway. The first guard that ran at him with a sword drawn didn't even slow the warrior warlock. The long haired kilt wearing deity caught the sword mid swing with no damage to his hand before yanking it forward and ripping the guard's head off with a blow. The next guard saw this and stopped in fright. Before the guard could turn to run Harry was in front of him, driving the newly acquired sword through the unfortunate man's chest. Before he met the next guard that would die Harry paused as he received images through the eyes of the replicat set to watch over Murron. The fey's wife had acquired a horse and was riding right into an ambush.
With a silent ripple of spacetime Harry disappeared and reappeared right before where Murron was about to ride into the trap. Tired of playing with the threatening mortals Harry activated his wife's full Kryptonian as well as a full range of Alteran witch abilities. The farmer's daughter pulled her horse to a stop as she spotted her husband, not understanding how the handsome man had appeared out of nowhere before her until the images began to flood her mind as he released full knowledge of the bond to her.
"Oh," Murron could only gasp as she tried to absorb everything while watching the man she loved stride towards two sword wielding guards, duck the swing of their blades and rise up to grip them by their throats.
Murron could only be awed while with a casual flick of his wrist the man she knew as William Wallace but more appropriately called Harry broke the two enemy soldiers' necks. Meanwhile the pike wielding guard who had intended to smash her in the throat with his pointed staff only moments before he knew true fear tried to skewer Murron's lover. With a grace and strength Harry made seem casual he tossed the dead guard in his right hand at the attacking live guard while letting the spear tip shatter on his invulnerable stomach. Harry dropped the garbage in his hands and picked up the broken spear. As the pinned and stunned remaining live guard struggled to get out from under the body of his dead comrade Harry took the shattered spear and jammed it down through the pinned guard's heart, driving the wood half a foot into the ground.
As the guard choked to death on his own blood Harry turned to his wife.
"Are you alright beautiful?" Harry questioned with concern as he walked over and reached up to pull his woman off the horse, conveying his concern over their bond as well as with words.
"I…I don't know," Murron answered as she hugged her husband tightly and clung to him, the fear and adrenalin of her near rape and flight from death washing over her.
"It's ok…come on and I'll take you somewhere safe," Harry reassured as he wrapped his arms around his wife and disappeared with her.
The pair reappeared in the home William had grown up in until his father and brother had been killed years ago. It was at their funeral that William had met a young Murron for the first time. The little girl had gifted the crying William with a purple flower, a flower he had dried and carried with him for all those years until he returned to her a grown man. The inside of the dwelling was not what it appeared from the outside. Inside it was furnished with many of the comforts that would be expected from a home in the twenty-first century. Many more advanced comforts were hidden in compartments that would extend or transport in at the demand of the house's occupants. It was a style Harry found appealing. In Harry's opinion the best part was the indoor plumbing. Carrying his shaken mate over to the love seat in the corner the wizard sat down and pulled her into his lap. The newly made witch began to cry into her man's shoulder.
The reality traveler held her and rubbed her back soothingly as Murron let loose her feelings. The woman's grief didn't last long with Harry helping her come to terms over their bond.
"Thank you William…Harry," Murron whispered. "What do I call you now?"
"Whatever you want my love," answered Harry.
"I'll call you Harry…so it's less confusing," declared Murron before leaning up and kissing her newly realized divine lover.
With a mental command from Harry the couples' clothes vanished. The mage picked up Murron and carried her to the most comfortable king sized bed in that universe. The sex god decided many orgasms would serve to brighten his wife's mood.
Insert Smut Scene Here (See hpfanficarchive or ficsite version for erotic content)
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Several hours later…
Murron slowly woke with a smile on her lips. Memories of her latest session of love with her new husband filled the young woman's mind. The young witch rolled over to see her man laying on his side smiling at her while unfortunately clothed in Murron's opinion.
As if sensing her thoughts Harry suggested, "You can see through solid objects now including clothes."
Harry's mental guidance via the bond had Murron soon gazing through his garments with Kryptonian granted sight. Murron would also be able to see through solid matter with magical sight but the Kryptonian method was easier to master in a short period of time.
"Why are you dressed husband?" Murron questioned curiously.
"I mean to go rid our village of this vile English garrison. No more will they rape our women," Harry answered.
"Weren't you born English," Murron pointed out as she accessed the memories of his youth in Harry's mind, shuddering at his treatment by certain people that Murron was very glad had been punished immensely by the many wives before her.
"Yes…this is a time period I'm not particularly proud of in my birth country's history. I'll just have to teach my native countrymen how you treat your subjects," suggested the wizard with a gleam of determination and power in his eyes.
"Do I need to stay here?" Murron asked as she looked around at all the polished and clean cut surfaces of the bedroom.
"You can go wherever you want honey. Nothing in this world can harm you any longer. Jack," Harry called; a replicat teleported into the room in response. "Murron this is Jack. He's a creature composed of tiny machines," the sorcerer explained while guiding Murron's mind to the knowledge of what Jack was. "He's been looking after you. Ask Jack anything and he'll show you how to do it. I suspect you'll want to go visit your father and mother. They must be worried sick about you now. While no guard that saw me in action yesterday remembers the true might of my powers they will know I left alive with you. My aura altered their memories to see what I desired them to see. No mortal will be able to remember my true might unless I desire it."
"Alright…I'll visit my parents and inform them of our marriage. After you've taken care of the trash I'll expect you to come home and let me make sure you're alright," Murron mock commanded while sending her mate pictures mentally of what her examination would entail.
"Deal," Harry agreed with a smile before leaning over and stealing a kiss from his nude spouse.
Harry stood and vanished from sight to take out the trash.
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Harry had taken a peek into the future to see what fate would have befallen his Murron had he not been more powerful and ensured her safety. What he saw had the young god eager for some smiting and punishment. The powerful Potter chose to walk towards the fort up on the hill on the other side of the village. Walking calmly through the village dozens of guards immediately locked their gaze on William Wallace. When the first guard approached with a sword held at the ready the mortal didn't even see Harry move. The sex god swatted the blade aside and punched a hole clean through the man's chest. The warlock's aura turned to one of intimidation as he waited for the next guard to charge him. The spear that was meant to impale the reality traveler was instead wrenched out of the guard's grasp. The guard continued to rush forward. Harry twisted out of the guard's path and held out his arm to catch the charging opponent around the neck. With a sharp twist the English soldier fell to the ground dead.
One after the other and sometimes in groups of two or more the soldiers charged Harry. They all fell at the deity's feet as he continued his progress towards the fort on the hill. The other village men who had all suffered at the hands of the English began to join in. When Harry reached the range of the fort's archers he raised his hand and halted the deadly bolts mid flight with his telekinesis. With another gesture of the wizard's hands the bolts returned to their archer, aimed directly into the shooter's chest. When he arrived at the closed gate Harry reached out and gripped the thick logs that composed the gate's frame. With a snapping sound all the ropes that bound the gate to the structure ripped free. Tossing the gate aside like it was nothing Harry strolled into the fort. The local magistrate was protected by only a single guard at this point.
"Wh…What are you?" The English magistrate stammered as the other villagers came pouring in and took out the remaining guard.
"He's a sorcerer that's what he is," proclaimed Hamish, William's childhood friend.
Harry fixed the mortal magistrate with a glare that had the man pissing himself instantly. The mortal standing before the fey warrior would have slit Murron's throat as an example, had she been captured. Because William Wallace and Murron got married in secret so that Murron would not have to share the Magistrate's bed on her wedding night she would have been killed. William Longshanks, the current King of England, had decreed the rights of Prema Nockturn; meaning that the English lords had the right of bedding any Scottish woman on her wedding night. No more would Harry put up with that shit.
"Yes I'm a wizard," Harry declared, deciding a little bit of power in his new home would go a long way even if what he showed wasn't a significant fraction of his true power.
The newly proclaimed wizard strode forward and grasped the upper left arm of the English noble just below the shoulder. With a sharp pull the arm ripped free, eliciting a blood curdling scream from the rapist. Harry closed the wound with a healing burst from his palm while purposefully not removing the pain. Wrapping the red and white striped cape wearing mortal in his telekinetic grasp Harry floated the man in his grip until the so called noble was floating face down. The pants of the man vanished to reveal a pasty flabby ass. With a gleam of his true anger apparent on his face Harry pulled back the bloody appendage and jabbed it forward up the former bearer's ass; hand first.
A telekinetic bubble around the appendage along with judicious use of Harry's immense strength and a bit of magic soon saw the limb part way up the man's ass. The screaming magistrate dropped to the ground and cried out. A permanent silencing charm saw silence descend upon the fort.
"You shall walk the Earth until the end of this planet. Never again will you eat or drink. Never again shall you harm an innocent. And Never again shall you forget my face," Harry promised the mortal that had angered him.
With his work done Harry strode from the fort, the villagers hot on his heels.
"William, where did you learn such sorcery?" Hamish asked.
"During my travels I journeyed far and wide and learned much," the Potter male replied.
That was the extent of the questioning. Everyone could sense that William Wallace was not in a good mood as his aura was still projecting out his anger. The villagers wisely didn't want to risk angering someone so powerful.
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That night a group of Scotsman from a neighboring clan arrived and joined the local group which was preparing for war. The new arrivals knew that an English garrison from the Castle at York would come through and burn them out to stomp out all Scottish resistance. In the eyes of these Scotsman it was better to die fighting with their countrymen than to be slaughtered like livestock with no comrades.
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What followed over the next few days was a gorilla warfare tactic carried out by the Scots on their way to the next English fort. Roughly fifty English soldiers were caught out in the open by the Scots and killed swiftly. The English uniforms were taken and put on for when Harry's group arrived at the fort around mid day.
Harry's keen ears picked up the shout of the man on the fort's right watch tower as the guard yelled down, "Patrol returning my lord."
Harry schooled his features to keep from smiling as he rode at the head of the group of English dressed Scots. The fort guards opened the wooden gates as the wizard approached. The green eyed man could see the Lord walking down to meet the newly arriving group, lazily strolling as if he didn't have a care in the world. The fey dismounted from his horse as his men spread out throughout the fort. The warlock was careful to keep his head down with his helmet blocking the Lord's view of his face until the mortal man was close enough so that it was too late.
"So what news," the Lord prompted casually as Harry hauled off and smashed the ponce across the face with a fist that could break mountains.
The disguised Scots quieted the surprised English soldiers with knives and swords held at the captive men's throats. Harry smiled inwardly as Hamish grasped his helmet and smashed a soldier in the face as the poor man tried to run by, effectively clothes-lining the soldier.
The Lord picked himself up before shouting, "I have dispatched a hundred soldiers to Lannuck. They will be returning now."
"It was closer to fifty you idiot and where do you think we got the clothes," Harry scathingly replied before turning to one of his men, Morrison. "Make it quick," the sorcerer told the Scot who's wife the Lord trembling behind Harry had claimed Prema Nockturn with on the Morrison's wedding night.
"Do you remember me?" Morrison demanded as he took off his helmet.
"I never did her any harm. It was my right," the Lord stupidly exclaimed.
"Your right! Well I'm here to claim the right of a husband," shouted back Morrison just before he began smashing the Lord's skull in with a mace, spitting on the English bastard for good measure.
Harry was disgusted. The so called nobleman didn't deserve the title of Lord. Over his life the Potter male had been a Lord many times and never had the young god acted in the manner of any of the English nobles of the time he was currently in. Harry planned to make sure these English nobles learned their lesson about how to properly treat the subjects they ruled.
"I am William Wallace and the rest of you will be spared. Go back to England and tell them there that Scotland's sons and daughters are yours no more. Tell them Scotland is free. If I see anymore English coming to my country and treating my people like they have been I will personally march on England and take your land as my own. We'll see how you like a taste of your own medicine," Harry promised, causing every Englishman present to shiver at the power in his voice. "Burn it," commanded the leader as he led the way out of the fort which was soon burning nicely.
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The English did not respond well. They began burning villages with raiding parties of English soldiers before Harry and his men could even arrive. The English invaders sent further parties after the wizard and his men but were thwarted. The mage remembered one such hunt well. The hunting party found a small group of a half dozen men and chased the Scots into a dead end canyon.
"No point resisting, you're outnumbered and trapped," declared the lead English soldier on horseback. "Now where are the rest of you? Where's Wallace?"
The Englishman had his answer a moment later as a rock Harry threw impacted his forehead, killing the mortal instantly. The other soldiers found themselves surrounded by many more Scots up on the ridge around the canyon. Rocks began to fly relentlessly. Every rock Harry threw killed a man instantly. More rocks seemed, to Wallace's men, to appear in his hand whenever he drew back his arm. Soon all the English were dead. The Scots were uncatchable.
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Lunch the next day…
Harry and his closest men were eating out of a pot cooking over an open fire.
"Eventually Longshanks is going to send his whole northern army against us," Harry pointed out.
"Maybe Calvary…they'll shake the very ground," agreed Hamish's father.
"They'll ride right over us," Hamish added.
"Uncle Argyle used to talk about it. No army ever stood up to a charge of heavy horse. But we'll be the first," Harry declared.
"How do you expect us to do that?" Hamish questioned.
"We'll make spears," answered the deity, "Hundreds of spears twice as long as a man."
"That long," Hamish questioned.
"Aye," confirmed the wizard.
"Some men are longer than others," quipped Hamish.
"Has your mother been telling stories about me again," the father of Hamish quipped.
The men's laughter was interrupted by the shout of, "Volunteers coming in."
A few men came up to Harry and one knelt before him while saying, "William Wallace we've come to fight and die for you."
"Stand up man…I'm not the pope," Harry told the kneeling Scot.
"My name is Faudron…my sword is yours," announced the Scot while Harry sensed he was really an assassin come to kill the great William Wallace. "I brought you this," explained Faudron while he reached into his tunic and made to pull something out before Hamish stopped him.
"We've checked them for arms," one of the original men to join up informed Hamish.
"I brought you this," finished Faudron as he pulled out a sash. "My wife made it for you."
"Thank you," Harry courteously told the man as the sorcerer accepted the gift.
A chuckling man walked up in front of Hamish over to the lunch pot and knelt down while looking at the sky and announcing, "Him that can't be William Wallace. I'm prettier than this man," the crazy sounding new arrival declared before taking a spoonful out of the pot. "Alright father I'll ask him," the man continued. "If I risk my neck for you will I get a chance to kill Englishmen?" The somewhat unhinged man asked Harry.
"Is your father a ghost or do you converse with the Almighty?" Hamish asked.
"In order to find his equal an Irishman is forced to talk to god," answered the new arrival. "Yes father," he shouted at the sky. "The Almighty says don't change the subject just answer the fucking question."
Harry could see a problem building so spoke up quickly, "Yes you'll get to kill English."
"Excellent," the man said with a smile. "Steven is my name. I'm the most wanted man on my island. Except I'm not on my island of course, more's the pity."
"Your island…you mean Ireland," Hamish clarified in confusion.
"Yeah…it's mine," Steven answered with a grin.
"You're a madman," Hamish declared causing Steven to chuckle and nod as everyone around laughed.
"I've come to the right place then," Steven agreed.
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Faudron was sent out to hunt for food as one of his first acts in the army. Unfortunately a pack of wolves found the assassin and tore the man to shreds. The green eyed god might have influenced the creatures into doing his bidding.
Shortly after, the group of rebels received word that the English were gathering an army at Stirling. The Scottish nobles were gathering as well but wouldn't commit to battle. But word of the reality traveler's amazing deeds was spreading, causing highlanders to flock towards battle by the thousands.
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Sterling…
The sorcerer had timed the pace of his men just right so that the group would arrive at the battle at just the right moment for effect. The green eyed mage kept track of the happenings through a replicat. Over three hundred horsemen were in the English forces while the Scots were outnumbered three to one. The noble's cowardice was making the army of Scottish farmers antsy. This anxiety all occurred before the English ranks were even within sight.
When the English did march onto the battlefield in an orderly and organized fashion it was quite an impressive and intimidating sight to the untrained Scottish men of the earth. As the Scots began to break rank and disperse one of the nobles tried to convince them to stay.
"Stop men," the old horse mounted noble called. "Do not flee…wait until we've negotiated," urged the man in an attempt to gain more lands.
That was the moment Harry and his group chose to ride up during. The war paint wearing god's aura caused all of the departing mortals to stop and come back to see what the impressive immortal would do.
"William Wallace," the Potter warlock heard one man say to another as the warrior wizard rode past.
"Can't be," the other man argued. "He's not tall enough."
Hamish, Harry, and the rest of the men rode through the ranks of Scots while several of the warlock's soldiers carried wrapped bundles of long spears. The leader of the rebellion rode towards the gathered nobles.
"The almighty says this must be a stylish fight since it has drawn the finest people," Steven mocked the nobles.
"Where is thy salute?" The noble who had unsuccessfully attempted to keep the ranks together earlier demanded.
"For showing up today I suppose I should say thank you," mused the mage. "But I doubt you'll prove useful from this point on."
"This is our army," the noble Harry now knew was named Lochlan from the man's mind bravely declared. "To join it you give homage."
"This is my resistance movement. To join it you stop kissing ass you pathetic excuse for a man," was the immortal's response. "Besides that…if this is your army then why do the men leave?"
"We didn't come here to die for them," one man shouted, eliciting a collective shout of agreement from the assembled farmers.
"We'll go home because there are too many English," the man's friend added.
"Men of Scotland…I am William Wallace," the sorcerer announced.
"William Wallace is seven feet tall," argued one of the earlier speakers.
"Yes…I've heard," Harry agreed as he got down from his horse before commencing morphing his body larger until he was over seven feet tall, causing the men assembled before him to go silent in shock. "Now do you believe me?" The giant's much greater voice carried loudly over the warriors of Scotland. Not waiting for a response the warrior wizard continued with, "Today we are going to take the first step in throwing off the tyranny of the English. Just by showing up today you've declared yourself against the lawlessness of the English and their King. No more will they rape our women and steal our crops. If you do not fight today the English will continue to force themselves upon your wives, daughters, mothers, and sisters. They will take your food from your table until you do not have enough to eat yourself. Are you going to watch your children starve?"
The sex god's charismatic nature worked a magical effect over the assembled mortals, spurring them to crave battle and the defeat of their enslavers. The army began to cheer for battle in response to the wizard's speech. At that moment three Englishmen on horseback rode towards the middle of the field to deliver the king's terms. As the Scottish nobles rode to meet the enemy messengers Harry rode after them.
"Lochlan, Craig, Mornay," began the English messenger. "Here are the king's terms," continued the man nervously as Harry rode slowly around the enemy while staring intently. "Lead this army off the field and he will give you each estates in Yorkshire including hereditary title from which you will pay…from which you will pay him an annual duty," the nervous messenger said.
At that moment the messenger's words cut off as two prongs imbedded themselves into the man's body connected to the sleek taser the reality traveler had conjured out of sight. The messenger fell off his horse and writhed on the ground as the rebel god turned up the voltage on the device.
"You're disrespecting a banner of truce," Lochlan pointed out in disbelief.
"Grow a pair you pansy. This piece of shite follows a leader that condones rape of our women on their first night of marriage. I could do far worse," the sorcerer assured the noble as he finally released the man from the power of the electrically energized weapon. Turning to the gasping messenger Harry added, "If you don't march your army back to England naked immediately I will personally make sure you all die today."
His purpose of joining the discussion accomplished the mage guided his horse back to the Scottish lines at full gallop. Dismounting the warrior warlock joined his men and prepared for battle. The response of the English commander was to summon the archers forward. It was a tense moment before the archers were commanded to draw their weapons. The Scots broke the moment by beginning to shout and bellow anything they felt like. One Scot lifting his kilt set off a wave of flashing in the front row of the army. That was when the archers drew their weapons. As the arrows were pulled back and the bows were in maximum tension Harry casually opened a wormhole that bent along the exact path of the archer's, more specifically the space where the archer's bow strings occupied. At the point where each bow string existed the wormhole entered the lower dimension before the bow string and then threaded back into higher dimensional space after the volume of space occupied by the strong cord. A cutting curse emitted by the wizard served to sever every single string, even the backup strings.
Violently the bows reacted and injured many of their wielders, causing the Scottish army to cheer louder.
Despite this setback the arrogant English commander ordered the horse mounted soldiers forward in a full attack. The Scottish fighters waited tensely as the enemy rode towards their position at full gallop, appearing as death on horseback. The enemy drew closer and closer until it seemed that nothing could stop the charge. But something did stop the charge, something not easily visible from any appreciable distance. A fence of incredibly sharp super thin netting rose up from two poles at either end of the front of the army. The reality traveler got the idea from the netting the Predators used to kill Aliens in one of the sorcerer's previous universal travels. The netting was made out of advanced nano-materials and had remained concealed on the ground until the explosive propelled poles had shot up from their telescopically collapsible form. The poles were actually more sophisticated than they at first appeared due to the gravity sink field the nanites comprising the poles employed.
The gravity sink field held the object enclosed in the field stationary in space and time due to a warp in the surrounding spacetime continuum. Nothing was moving that fence until the controller wished the fence to be moved. Currently the controller did not wish the fence to be moved as the charging English were turned into chunks of meat and bone along with their horses. Any soldiers able to stop themselves in time were taken care of when the fence was quickly dropped. The Scots picked up the large spears brought by Harry's men and preceded to practice javelin throwing right into the fleeing enemies' backs.
In response to the stunning development the scared English noble leading the enemy army immediately sent in the infantry. The Scots charged forward in turn. The two armies collided with the clash of steel upon steel and war cries intermixed with death cries. Harry ran one enemy soldier threw with his blade before ripping the weapon free and beheading two other men in a clean stroke. The warrior wizard was a whirling slashing death cyclone as he killed three then five followed by eight enemy troopers. Within minutes of entering the battle dozens upon dozens had fallen to the powerful god's might and that was without any outward magic being used. Only strength and infinite stamina mixed with the skill earned from many battles spelled the end for many an English fighter.
As organs, limbs, and heads flew everywhere around the skilled sorcerer the Scottish horse mounted troops circled around the skirmish to attack the virtually useless archers and any enemy troops still not embroiled in a struggle to the death. Harry noticed immediately when the enemy commander yelled retreat while attempting to do just that. The battle mage picked up a nearby spear and hurled the weapon with unerring accuracy hundreds of feet until it embedded itself in the back of the enemy commander.
The battle was over within minutes with hundreds of Scotts injured or dead while all of the English forces were either dead or dying. The sexually empowered deity walked from mortal to mortal, able to sense when one was close to dying. Harry healed the injured Scots while swiftly dispatching the injured English painlessly, unless the telepath found that the English soldier had ever raped a woman before. Then the soldier's last moments were anything but pleasant.
"I never knew quite whether or not to believe the old tales of wizards until today," Hamish's father Campbell declared as the mage restored the stump of the man's severed hand to full healthy status, forcing tissue and bone to regrow with ease. "I'm just glad you're on our side."
The victorious Scots began to chant the rebel leader's name. This jubilation lasted all the way back to the noble halls of Scotland where the army insisted the war leader be knighted as a guardian of their homeland. Immediately after Harry recognized officially Hamish, Steven, and Campbell as his captains the politics began.
"Sir William," one of the nobles who didn't participate in the battle, Balliol, addressed the newly knighted male. "In as much as you and your captains hale from a region long known to support the Balliol clan may we invite you to continue our support and uphold our rightful claim."
"Damn the Balliol claim," another noble shouted before arguing broke out.
"Now is the time to declare a king," Balliol managed to get out.
"Shut the fuck up!" Harry's powerful voice silenced the bickering men. "If you're not going to help then stay the hell out of my way."
"Stay out of your way as you do what?" Craig demanded.
"As I obliterate my enemies and kill Longshanks," declared the sorcerer. "Don't make yourself my enemy," the reality traveler instructed before turning and leaving the assembly hall with his captains following behind.
"Wait," a voice called from the top of the stairs the group had just walked down. "I respect what you said," the dark haired noble known as Robert the Bruce began. "But remember that these men have lands and castles…it's much to risk."
"No more to risk than a farmer going to war and knowing that his beautiful wife and extraordinary children could starve to death if he should not return," pointed out the immortal.
"No…you're right of course. But Scotland does not have an identity to stand on in order to mount an offense. Longshanks has seen to that. If you make enemies on both sides of the line you'll just end up dead without accomplishing anything. We need the nobles," the Bruce argued.
"We…I didn't see you fighting in the battle. Scotland doesn't need nobles. She needs a king. If none of you can step up to the plate then I guess I'll have to," the green eyed Ascended announced before leaving the relatively weak noble behind pondering the warrior's words.
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The campaign of taking back Scotland required the achievement of a single goal; the death of the current King of England and his replacement with someone more interested in the affairs of Scotland. To that end the Scots began marching from town to town, capturing the enemy's strongholds.
When the group of warriors arrived at the heavily fortified town of York the peasants were running screaming into the high walls of the settlement. As night fell, the Scots commenced their attack while the English threw projectiles and shot arrows from the wall.
Instead of sending his men into this inferno of sure death the divine commander took care of the main gate himself. A fusion grenade was tossed at the wooden barrier, causing the massive doors to disappear in a flash of bright light and heat. The Scots rushed forward unfettered as the enemy on the walls had been flash fried in the explosion. York fell swiftly after that. The Scottish soldiers showed the civilians living in York and the other captured towns more civility and compassion than the Scottish women had ever been shown. Harry made sure to send Longshanks a message in the form of the severed head of the king's nephew, the former ruler of York.
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It was several days later at York that Longshanks sent his response flying the flags of truce.
After crossing the moat surrounding the town of York the warrior mage made his way towards the quickly erected tent of the envoy's messenger flanked by half a dozen brightly dressed English soldiers. The messenger just happened to be an extremely attractive woman. As their eyes met the telepathic sorcerer could discern that the beauty, Isabelle, was both somewhat frightened of the Scot's fearsome appearance yet incredibly attracted to the green eyed immortal.
"I am the Princess of Wales," began the French woman. "I come as the king's servant and with his authority."
"And what would we be discussing?" The Potter male questioned.
"The King's proposals…will you speak with a woman?" Isabelle challenged.
"I have no trouble speaking with women. I can assure you of that," replied the sorcerer while following the enchanting young female into the tent.
Isabelle took a seat in an ornate yet collapsible piece of furniture.
"I understand you have recently been given the rank of knight," the somewhat aroused female put forth.
"I wasn't given anything that I didn't earn. Your king forced me to earn that position," the deity replied.
"Did my king also force you to sack peaceful cities?" The brave woman queried. "And did he also make you the executioner of his own nephew and my husband's cousin?"
"That royal pain in the ass that ruled York murdered my innocent countrymen including women and children from the city walls," charged the rebel leader. Isabelle glanced at her English royal advisor who didn't say anything. "We're certainly treating the English better than your king did the last time he captured a Scottish town."
"He is a bloody murdering savage," declared the advisor in Latin. "And he's telling lies."
"I am not lying fool but I can most definitely be savage," the mage spoke up in the same language. "Or we can speak in French if you would like," offered the sex god which brought a brief smile to Isabelle's lips. Switching back to English Harry continued without pause, "Ask your tyrant about these matters and you'll know the truth by his eyes. I can guarantee you that just from the intelligence I see in your eyes," purred the telepath while gazing deeply in Isabelle's aroused orbs.
"Leave us…all of you," Isabelle ordered.
"Yes my lady," the advisor agreed, knowing it would be foolish to disobey the future Queen of England.
"Let us speak plainly," Isabelle suggested. "You are invading England but you cannot complete the conquest so far from your shelter and supply. The king desires peace," Isabelle announced as she stood and walked a few steps closer to the man that had haunted her fantasies ever since she had heard of the warrior Scot's tale and rumors of his magical abilities. "He informed me of this…I swear it. His proposal is that you withdraw your invasion and in return he will grant you estates, titles, and this chest of gold which I am to pay to you personally."
"I will not betray my people. They crave freedom from the suffering they endure under your king's tyranny," answered the warlock.
"But peace is crafted in this way," argued the woman, not wishing to see her interest killed by overwhelming odds.
"No…slave bindings are crafted in the way Longshanks proposes," rebutted the mage while stepping closer to the rapidly breathing woman. "The last time your king proposed peace I walked in on the bodies of the Scottish nobles who were stupid enough to agree to peace talks as those nobles hung from the rafters of a barn."
"I…," Isabelle began hesitantly as she stared into the intense green eyes of the powerful man towering above her. "I understand the pain and anger you feel…I've heard about your woman."
"I love Murrin very much. We married in secret because I refused to allow the scum your king sent to plague our lands to touch my woman. One of the soldiers stationed at the garrison tried to rape her the day after we consummated our love. I punished that rapist and when his friends came for me I killed them all, every last one of them. Nobody will ever lay a hand on those I love," Harry declared while reaching up and running his hand down along the side of the beautiful Princess' delicate features.
Isabelle leaned into the enchanting male's touch as his rough hand set her skin afire with passion.
"I see what I love about Murrin in you Isabelle. You deserve better than what you've received as a fate," the deity whispered as he leaned down and captured the beauty's lips in a searing kiss while he triggered her body to bend to his will, setting her feminine core aquiver with ecstasy. After the immortal pulled back he whispered into Isabelle's ear, "The powers that lie beyond the veil of this existence are watching out for you. I think you know my answer to Longshanks offer."
Isabelle nodded her understanding while touching her lips while watching the handsome warrior leave the tent. The Princess' convoy departed soon after.
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Isabelle's personal escort arrived at York several days later as the Scottish rebels awaited Longshanks' next move.
"You must have really made an impression on her," suggested Hamish as he noticed Isabelle's convoy approaching the city.
"Don't I always," the sorcerer suggested with a grin.
"I didn't think you had enough time to do anything that would leave that sort of an impression William," Hamish grunted while walking with the rebel leader out to meet the escort.
"Hello Nicolette…this is my friend Hamish," the wizard introduced the pair, noticing the interest the two showed in each other immediately as Isabelle's companion and confidant curtsied. "What brings you back here?"
"A message from my mistress," Nicolette replied in her native tongue while passing an envelope to the skilled warrior.
"Thank her for me," Harry made sure to tell the woman before rushing back into the city to rally the troops.
The message was a warning about Longshanks positioning troops to surround the Scottish rebels using Irish, Welsh, and French forces. Scouts confirmed the information once the warlock's troops got moving. Harry didn't even bother trying to enlist the aid of the Scottish nobles. The least treacherous of that lot was the Bruce and that particular mortal was being advised to do the wrong thing by a leper of a father. Instead the warrior wizard put the call out for men while marching his current troops for the battlefield of Falkirk. The son of a Marauder had quite a few surprises in line for his enemies.
On the day of the battle Longshanks actually showed up himself. Several of the nobles also showed up with what meager forces they could scrounge up after most of the men in Scotland answered the call of their country's guardian knight. Harry's perceptive hearing picked up the conversation between Longshanks and the English knight commanding the army.
"Quite a lovely…gathering," Longshanks said. "Don't you agree?" The English King asked the man on horseback behind him who was wearing a helmet and holding a lance.
"The Bruce is sitting behind Longshanks," Harry informed his comrades.
"Are you serious?" Hamish demanded, shocked.
"His is the most treacherous dog in existence," Campbell declared before spitting on the ground.
"Aye and he'll die with the rest of our enemies," Harry assured. "When it comes time to fight you men can sit this one out," the deity instructed. "We'll meet our brethren in the initial charge together but after that retreat back here. I will deal with the enemy."
"The Almighty says this will be good," Steven declared before cackling madly.
"The Archers are ready Sire," the lead English night informed Longshanks.
"Not the Archers. My scouts tell me the Scottish archers are miles away and no threat to our army. Use up the Irish first. Arrows cost money while the dead cost nothing," Longshanks instructed coldly. "Send in the infantry and cavalry."
"Infantry," the first knight shouted, causing the order to be relayed down the line by the commanders and flag bearers. "Cavalry…advance," the knight added.
The Irish men out front began jogging towards the Scottish lines with spears lowered. The cavalry and infantry began marching at a slower pace behind. The Scots began rushing towards the Irish. The two front lines shouted as they closed. The Irish and Scots slowed and quieted as they met, raising their weapons from the attack position. Longshanks and the rest of the English were quite surprised when the two groups began greeting each other as old friends. It was time for Harry to give the enemy another surprise.
"You did well Steven. Now it's time for you to sit back and enjoy the show," Harry suggested as his voice deepened.
The god's skin began turning green as he started to grow in size. The fey allowed his clothes and armor to rip away from his flesh as his skin toughened and his mass began increasing rapidly.
"By the Almighty," Steven declared as the Scots and Irish backed away from the massive being.
"An ogre," Campbell whispered loud enough for those around him to hear.
"Not an ogre…the Hulk," Harry corrected. "And now Hulk smash!"
Harry's roar carried clear to the English and made their blood run cold combined with the sight of the tall titan. The sorcerer in his gamma irradiated form leapt, propelled hundreds of feet in the air. As the mage plummeted back towards the Earth, he grinned while aiming towards the middle of the enemy ranks. Longshanks had wheeled his horse about at the first sight of the Hulk and was riding hard towards the forest. Let the little King run. Longshanks would be meeting a painful end soon enough. Harry crashed into the ground and began tearing a swath through the English lines. Six or seven Englishmen died with each step the green warrior took. The English hacked and stabbed at Harry with their swords and weapons but to no avail. Most often the attacks didn't even tear the skin but when cuts did appear on the Hulk they healed before the mortals could even notice them.
Men screamed in terror as they were ripped apart. Limbs flew as did horses when the sorcerer reached the mounted brigades. The soldiers tried several times to swarm their foe in what they thought would be overwhelming numbers but the power of the Hulk was not to be denied. Each time the mortals swarmed the god batted them away as if they were less than flies, sending many screaming hundreds of feet through the air in all directions. Several times the warrior wizard leapt high into the air before increasing his gravity tremendously as he accelerated back down. The force of the titan's impacts was much greater than normal, shaking the Earth and generating large craters and debris. Some men tried to turn and flee but their compatriot's came hurtling at them at the velocity of arrows, killing the fleeing men instantly.
The Bruce met his end via the Hulk's fisting crushing his head. The English archers concentrated their fire on the enemy champion as he turned his attention to them and the reinforcements hiding among the tree line. The arrows didn't even bother the Hulk anymore than bullets would have. Harry uprooted entire trees and crushed the final remnants of Longshanks' band of murders and rapists within minutes. When done with the English Harry roared his anger as he leapt the full distance to the two bands of horsemen positioned behind the Scots and Irish. The giant plucked Mornay and Lochlan off their mounts by their necks. The two Scottish nobles kicked and flailed as they struggled to breathe.
"I know you made a deal with Longshanks to betray your countrymen for more lands and titles. You wouldn't have ridden to our aids. Am I right?" The Hulk bellowed at the two groups of horsemen.
"Yes…yes Sir," one of the braver Scotsmen managed to confirm. "We didn't want to but our Lord would have put us off our lands and starved our families."
"And that is why you shall not be dying like these two," Harry declared, noticing the stench as Mornay pissed himself and Lochlan did worse.
As that statement permeated the minds of the horse mounted men there was a wet crunching sound as Harry closed his fists. Lochlan and Mornay's heads popped off their bodies. Harry let the corpses drop the ground before causing all of the viscera built up on his frame to vanish under his aura. The warlock walked towards his men while beginning to change back to his base form for this universe. The men were speechless for several moments before a mass cheer rose up from the defenders.
"That was brilliant William," Hamish told his old friend.
"You do the work of the Almighty," Steven asserted. "There is no higher calling than killing English."
"I just wish you had left a few for us," Campbell grumbled with a smile.
"We're going to need to build you a really big throne or you'll crush it when you become that Hulk," Hamish suggested.
This sparked off much joking about the Hulk's prowess in all walks of life.
"Let's just celebrate this victory," Harry suggested. "Feast and be merry my friends," the sorcerer suggested in a voice that carried to all over the cheering. The mage waved his hands at the woods far away from the gory portion of the battlefield and long tables loaded with delicious foods appeared. The cheering rose even louder as the men closed in on the food. The celebration lasted well into the evening as did the ale.
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If anybody thought the legend of William Wallace was amazing before the battle at Falkirk he was touted as unstoppable after the news spread about the victory over the English. With so many eyewitnesses Harry had to wonder how his legend grew so out of proportion. But the tales gave the Scottish people something to believe in and that was fine with the subject of their legends. The remaining Scottish nobles were very nervous after the deaths of three of their numbers. They wouldn't be making anymore deals with Longshanks. More Scots flanked to join the cause. Longshanks heard this news as well but his health was failing him. The English King was growing ill.
Longshanks developed a plot in another attempt to kill Harry. Nicolette, Isabelle's companion, overheard the plot to use Isabelle as unwitting bait in a trap. Assassins would be dispatched to the location Isabelle was supposed to meet William to discuss peace. If Isabelle was killed Longshanks would likely gain the King of France as an ally against the Scots. Harry, Hamish, Steven, and Campbell went to the meeting location. The guards at the door were dressed like French knights but the Scots had been warned that these were in fact Longshanks' finest assassins.
"It is quite pathetic that Longshanks thinks this will work against me," Harry pointed out as the four males stood observing the hut where the assassins lay in wait.
"He grows desperate," Campbell observed.
"Are you going to turn into the Hulk and slaughter these murderers?" Hamish inquired.
"No, these dogs are the same breed that cowardly slaughtered my father and brother. I can sense the masses they have murdered. They deserve a special kind of hell," the god suggested.
"This should be good," Steven declared with a cackle in his tone.
Harry sent his idea to Aristotle and the replicat created the construct with the appropriate program. The new being appeared a dozen yards before the quartet of Scots.
"What is this demon William?" Campbell asked in astonishment.
"I call it a Barney-tubby," Harry declared.
The primarily purplish creature was a hybrid of a teletubby and Barney. The creature sported a large disfigured looking hard-on. The guards at the entrance of the hut had just enough time to scream as the horny creature rushed them. Their screams died as Harry erected a glowing semi-transparent force field around the hut.
"They will never die but will spend eons being violated by the Barney-tubby. Maybe after a few millennia I'll release them from this and let them enjoy a conventional hell," Harry mused.
The wizard's companions didn't comment but all shuddered. The three mortals would have vomited if they could actually hear the horrible songs the Barney-tubby was capable of singing.
"Aristotle…erase the memory of those songs from my mind," the fey ordered his replicat companion over their link while only controlling his urge to vomit thanks to his immense control over his physiology.
"Yes Sir," Aristotle agreed, wishing he too was allowed to purge that data from his memory stores.
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Later that evening at a cottage not far away…
Harry appeared behind Isabelle with no discernible noise to mark his arrival thanks to the precision of the wormhole transporter and its targeting scanners.
"My Lady," Harry greeted in a calm voice, causing Isabelle to turn and face him. "Thank you for your message." Isabelle's relieved sigh gave way to more shallow breathing as the handsome warrior approached her. The Princess' desire for love and to be wanted was focused on William Wallace. A loveless marriage to a homosexual prince was not something Isabelle deserved. "I would like to hear aloud why you are helping me. I think I know but do you desire to tell me?"
"There will be a new shipment of supplies coming north next month; foods and weapons," Isabelle nervously said, unable to put her feelings to words as she glanced away from the handsome warrior.
"Isabelle, stop and tell you why you help me please?" The sorcerer requested while he closed the distance between himself and the princess.
"Because of the way you are looking at me now," Isabelle finally answered.
"That is how you should be looked at by all. You are a being of beauty on the inside as well as on the outside. You should be loved and cherished," Harry declared.
The deity leaned in and kissed the woman on the side of the mouth as she faced to the side. Almost immediately Isabelle turned her head and wrapped her arms around Harry's neck, turning the embrace into a heated lip-lock.
Insert Smut Scene Here (See hpfanficarchive or ficsite version for erotic content)
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Isabelle's mood when she returned to England was a complete reversal of her temperament when she had left. In contrast Longshanks' mood worsened as did his health. The remaining Scottish nobles were scared out of any remaining wits they may have possessed at the news of Robert the Bruce's brutal end. These so-called-nobles went into hiding. It wouldn't matter where they hid, Harry would deal with them when he was done with Longshanks.
Longshanks did not meet his end as a warrior in battle but died in a way that was befitting of the creature he was, put down like a rabid animal.
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The bed chamber of King Edward I A.K.A. Longshanks…
The bedridden tyrant came out of his latest coughing fit to see his chamber doors slam shut. A glowing barrier of some sort seemed to shimmer over the door for a moment before it disappeared into the ether from which it manifested. Then she was there. The woman just appeared suddenly in the middle of the bed chamber. The woman was beautiful yet when she looked upon him Longshanks felt a cold shiver go down his spine that had nothing to do with his illness.
"Who are you and what are you doing in my chambers?" Longshanks demanded in a raspy voice that was barely discernible and more of a whisper.
But the woman had no trouble picking up the tyrant's words with her perceptive senses.
"I am Murron, mate of William Longshanks," the immortal female informed her prey. Longshanks paled and fumbled for the dagger hidden beneath his pillow. Before the mass murderer could retrieve the blade it floated out of his grasp and hovered in the air in front of the witch. Terror coursed through Longshanks at the display of mystic power. "I'm here to return your kindness. At your orders my fate would have been to have my throat slit simply because I did not wish to let the scum you call a noble force himself upon me on my wedding night. My husband has assured me that where you are going you will experience that fate tenfold. You will know what it is to be raped mercilessly for the rest of time. Before I send you off to that fate know that my lover will sit on your throne and rule your people with better skill and honor than you could ever manage. Already his baby grows in Isabelle's womb," Murron informed the terrified yet enraged Longshanks. Burn in hell Longshanks," Murron declared before telekinetically propelling the dagger to drag across the mass murderer's throat, tearing open tissue and causing blood to flow freely.
As King Edward I choked on his own blood he knew the witch spoke the truth and he would suffer eternity in hell. No salvation was had in the knowledge that his line would continue because Prince Edward was irredeemably homosexual. Longshanks' son would soon join his father in hell after Edward took his own life shortly after his father died. Longshanks had murdered Edward's lover, Phillip. In his suicide letter Edward stated that he simply could not live without Phillip. As Edward's wife, the crown passed to Isabelle. Not even a day after Edward's passing Isabelle called a truce with the Scottish. In what was seen as a masterful display of diplomacy by her subjects Isabelle arranged to wed William Wallace. The news of William's single-handed defeat of an English army was well heard among the subjects of England and they had no wish to continue further hostilities with such a being as the Hulk.
It was Isabelle and Murron that made a fitting observation after the crown had been bestowed upon their husband.
"It was for love of one woman that this bid for Scotland's freedom was begun," Isabelle pointed out.
"And it was the love you had in another woman that gave her the strength and courage to end this war and establish Scotland's dominance and joining with England," Murron added.
"In any case your love has amazing results for any woman it is bestowed upon," Isabelle suggested.
No truer words had ever been spoken. Over the following years, Queen Isabelle and Queen Murron would be shining examples of the power of their husbands love as they guided humanity towards a better future.
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Author's Note 2:
I have had at least one person post a review twice asking a question and they were doing so anonymously. Note that if you review anonymously I cannot respond back to you.
If you have a question, visit my Facebook group. It his highly likely your question has been answered somewhere on there. One of the members of my group can probably recall a previous answer.