#EVEN JUST TO HAZE MORDRED SOME MORE

[pyjamacryptid]

Knights will be Knights. You know how it is.

The photo that prompted this whole thing is under the cut, in all its glory.

[meowww-ffxiv]

It's...hard to explain Mordred and G'raha's friendship during the Crystal Tower raid.

Mordred was drawn to him first. His bright personality, even if G'raha did annoy him somewhat for awhile. But after the excitement died down (after the first raid, Labyrinth), G'raha did apologize to him for being a nuisance.

He was also curious about this Defender of Eorzea with a capital D. He asked very frank questions, about who Mordred was and what he was doing.

It turned out to be very important questions for Mordred at the time. Who was he? What was he doing?

One thing led to another and eventually it came to the point where Mordred told G'raha, "They invent my heroism for themselves. I'm not a hero. I'm just very good at killing the right people at the right time."

G'raha was uh. Like. Why did you unload THAT on me bro? What am I gonna do with THAT?

But he tried. Mordred was curt and irritable, but G'raha's admiration got a degree of "ohhh I can fix him" now. So he went out of his way to be his friend, and Mordred who kinda inexplicably liked him to begin with (it wasn't inexplicable; Mordred liked cheerful, forthright people who made him miss the brief moments of excitement adventuring got him before Praetorium) responded so very well to it.

And then as they delved further and further into the plot of Crystal Tower, as G'raha grappled with his legacy and the role he was so distant from...Mordred asked him, "What if stepping into that role will not make you happy? What if answering destiny's call erases everything that you are?"

Because Mordred didn't think very charitably of Hydaelyn. For the longest time he resented Her. For Her silence during the Calamity. For Her touch on his life now, after he felt like he'd been broken in half over jagged rocks and had nothing left for faith to take roots in. Or what even faith was for.

Her aid in the fight against the Ultima Weapon did make Mordred understand somewhat, what he was set to go up against and what Hydaelyn might mean to him. But at the same time he felt railroaded and still betrayed. Silence for all his life, when the world burned, and now She wanted him to fight this enemy that felt preordained but he was so unprepared against? Mordred felt like a gear turning in some machine he couldn't see, against his will, not understanding. He hated it. He hated Hydaelyn. He was terrified all he'd leave behind in his wake was more ashes and bloodshed. That this would be his sole legacy.

And G'raha had only said, "I don't know. But I do choose to face it. And I choose to believe in the stories of the ancients, in their wish that we, their descendants, will prevail and know hope someday. I choose to believe that in fulfillment of my role I will find satisfaction."

He asked Mordred for a bright legacy. A life lived well, worth remembering. A future worth waking up to. Asked it of him knowing Mordred struggled immensely with his own role and his own path. Asked him in faith and with great hope that it could inspire Mordred to seek...something.

And it worked. Stupidly yet stubbornly this was the seed that made Mordred really think about what he was doing. Why he thought he was powerless. What his words and actions could do.

It made him consciously aware of his influence on the world, and instead of thinking "I can't change this; I can't do anything" he went to "What can I do? What is the measure of my reach?" It turned Mordred into a more active and therefore willing participant in his own path. And with intentional actions came confidence and also the desire to be proactive.

The future was a very fragile thing. G'raha asked for something immensely, immensely heavy and difficult. To live was one thing but to live well? To do good with your life, so much so that it could become inspiration?

But G'raha, his friend, believed in him. Believed enough to ask it of Mordred. And because G'raha did, Mordred began to remember beyond the haze of grief and ashes -- to others no longer here, who also wished for him to live and live well. Some who were no longer here because it was so crucial that he had a chance to keep moving forward.

The short of it was that...it was humbling to be loved and to be believed in. Just a few words. Just an act of faith and a display of courage, no matter how rash.

It was also very anchoring to have something both incredibly long away yet very credibly going to happen -- the Tower coming out of stasis, G'raha awakening -- to strive towards, for Mordred.

He had no idea what would happen tomorrow. Who he would lose, what he'd have to give up. But he knew someday someone he knew would be able to read his story from start to finish and he could NOT give up on himself. He wanted that tale to have a happy, triumphant end. So he would keep fighting until things are alright.

[tikoy]

Kinktober 2020 Day 15

Day 15: Massage

Series: FGO

Lancer Cu Chulainn x unnamed gender neutral master

Warnings: Nightmare mention, swearing

Rating: Explicit

--

Dense purple fog piled in around us, limiting visibility. I called out to my servants, trying to make sure we weren’t separated, but I could hardly make out their figures. I kept calling their names: Mash, Jekyll, Mordred, Shakespeare, Andersen, Tamamo, and Kintoki. I repeated them like a mantra, my own personal chant to fight off the growing dread. Not a single voice answered back. Desperate, I ran forward, hoping that they’d merely gotten too far for them to hear my voice. My legs felt shaky, heavy with fear. I stumbled and bashed my knees against cobblestones. I hissed through the pain, looking around for whatever tripped me.

“Mash?!”

Her figure lay crumpled on the ground. Her shield broken in half. I grabbed her shoulders and shook, but nothing happened. Her eyes remained closed, her breathing faint. No matter what I did, she remained unresponsive. Moonlight peeked  from in between the clouds, illuminating the area. All around us were the bodies of the servants I’d called out to. All of them lay on their ground with their weapons shattered to pieces. I whimpered, blinking back tears . Dread piled in heavily, squeezing my chest until it hurt to breathe. Ominous, raucous laughter echoed. The moonlight vanished and I was left in the dark. My instincts screamed at me to get up and run, but my limbs hung limp. I felt a familiar presence approach, with all its oppressive power and malice.

“I found you, foolish Master of Chaldea.”

I woke up panting and covered in sweat, sheets tangled around my limbs. I stared up at the ceiling in my dimly-lit room, but each time I blinked I saw flashes of my dream. My heart still beat wildly in my chest. I trembled, even as I repeatedly whispered to myself that it was just a dream. Strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me close against a warm body. I gazed up to see Cu’s sleepy face, his eyes barely open. Rough hands swept hair away from my forehead before soft lips pressed kisses against my clammy skin. I snuggled further, doing my best to relax. His scent was calming, bringing to mind forests and meadows brightly lit by the afternoon sun. I wrapped my arms around him, burying myself even deeper in him.

When my breathing had evened out and I no longer shook, he broke the silence.

“It’s that London dream again, huh?” he asked, his voice still raspy with sleep.

“Y-yeah. Sorry for waking you,” I murmured.

“I’m used to worse conditions, don’t worry.” He pressed another kiss against my forehead. “Just frustrated that I can’t really help with that… Can’t fight against a dream with my spear.”

I smiled. “Having you here with me helps me lots already, Cu. You help me calm down.”

“Eh. If you’re happy with that, it’s fine I guess.” He yawned. “Ready to go back to sleep?”

“I think I’ll do a bit of stretching first and then change my clothes.” I pulled away from his hug and kicked the sheets away. “I’m still a bit tense and keyed up.”

“Mmm. Want a massage instead?” he offered.

I raised a brow at him. He’d never brought up anything like this before. “Since when did you know how to massage?” I asked, prodding at his chest. “I didn’t know you were interested in things like that.”

He shrugged. “Heard some of the staff complaining about stiff shoulders and wanting a massage, so I looked into it. Seemed a good thing to learn for future missions, and it was interesting I guess.”

“Have you massaged other people before?”

“Well, I gave old man Fergus a shoulder massage the other day. He seemed to like it. Told me to use more force though.”

I shuddered. “Please use minimal force on me… I’m not built like he is…”

He laughed and ruffled my hair. “Sure thing, Master! Now, strip!”

“You’re just using this as an excuse to get me naked, aren’t you~” I teased. “I see through your plot.”

I sat up to pull my shirt off, and shivered as the chill touched my bare chest. I caught him staring and smirked. His red eyes were half-lidded as he stared me down. He always had this way about him that forced me to focus solely on him. Nothing else existed in the moment but us two.

He crawled over and gripped the garter of my shorts. “I’m a simple man,” he stated. “I see someone hot. They want me. I want them. Clothes go off.” He pulled the fabric down my legs, dragging my underwear down with it. “Nothing much to it.”

He gave me a once-over, showing a toothy grin that sent delicious shivers down my spine. I bit my lip and grinned back. There was no way I wasn’t getting fucked tonight. He made me sit cross-legged on the bed while he stayed behind me. His hands descended on my shoulders, squeezing and rubbing against the sore spots. I groaned as the tension slowly eased out of my body. He was good, remarkably so. He carefully eased out the knots that had formed on my upper back and neck. I started to feel boneless, ready to collapse against him. His fingers drifted towards the front, flicking and squeezing at my nipples. I grabbed his hands, trying to pull them away.

“H-Hey, my chest isn’t tense. No need to do that,” I complained half-heartedly.

“Really? But these are getting awfully stiff,” he muttered, pinching my nipples for emphasis. “Might need a bit of stroking to help them relax.”

He pulled me onto his lap. His naked erection pressed insistently against me. He continued to rub and squeeze, rolling the stiff buds between his fingertips. Kisses rained down on my neck as I squirmed. I moved my hips, rubbing against his erection. He groaned out my name and bit down my neck. I gripped his hair, ran my hands across his scalp and tugged whenever he bit too harshly. After he released my neck, he started nibbling at my ear. My hips continued to move, building up the pace. My arousal throbbed and tingled. My hands drifted down to relieve some of the heat.

“Need me to massage that too?” he whispered. “Got something that’ll feel better than your fingers.”

He lay me on my back and spread my legs. He stuck two fingers in his mouth, staring into my eyes as he sucked. He then pressed the slicked fingers against my opening, teasing and prodding it open. I gripped at the sheets and took slow breaths to relax as he pushed the fingers in. I closed my eyes as he started to probe and spread his fingers apart. Heat started to build as he continued to rub against a particular bundle of nerves.

“It’s all soft and tight, Master,” he growled. “All nice and wet and hungry for a big fat dick.”

I managed a chuckle and glanced up to watch his expression. His mouth was pulled up to a savage grin and his eyes were hazy with lust. “Well, get over here then and fuck me, Cu.”

He growled and lifted my legs over his shoulders. His dick plunged inside me in one smooth motion. I moaned at the familiar fullness. He made a few shallow thrusts, growling each time I clenched around him, before increasing the pace. I bit my lip and glared. He smirked. My pleasure was spiking. I wouldn’t last long. He knew what I liked. I pulled him down, crashing my lips against his, in hopes of delaying the inevitable. Our tongues swirled around one another, fighting for dominance. I tangled my fingers in his hair again and pulled. He groaned and bucked harshly.

“Are you going to cum now, Master? My dick’s making you feel that good, huh?”

I opened my mouth to reply but his thrusts turned rapid. I whined and writhed, but there was no escape. My release bloomed and burst, coating everything in a haze. I twitched and shuddered, waiting for the sensations to fade to no avail. Cu continued to fuck me through my climax, heedless of how sensitive my walls were. Pain and pleasure entwined within me with each thrust. Within minutes, I was well on my way to my second climax. My eyes watered as I praised and cursed his name. I reached out to pull him close again, but my hand trembled and fell mid-way. He grabbed hold of it and pressed it to his mouth, leaving harsh bites against the skin. I squeezed his grip as I came, holding on to him as I crashed.

I gasped out his name as he continued to move. I coiled tight around him at each thrust. Each little movement was electrifying. He swept his hair back. His eyes were almost black and his mouth was clenched in a snarl. He looked near-feral now, like a great beast that had finally cornered its prey. It was terrifying. It was thrilling. It turned me on so damn much. I keened as he ravaged me, squeezing out each droplet of pleasure left unspent. His teeth found my neck, biting down harshly as he came.

We lay curled against one another, utterly spent. There was no tension left in me now, only a boneless sense of completion and exhaustion. He brushed his hand against my face.

“Master, I’m not good with anything that doesn’t involve fighting. I can’t make those dreams go away. But I swear on my spear that I won’t let that happen again. I ain’t letting us feel helpless in front of that bastard again.”

I smiled back at him. “I’m counting on you.”

“Next time, I’m stabbing that bastard in the ass!”

--

[aheartofwood]

the king arthur movie is SO BAD, guys.

imagine a baby and a kitten got together and tried to edit a movie with only the vaguest idea of arthurian legend based on the backs of the VHS of the disney version and also the lion king for some reason, and also the barest idea of how human brains can accept and understand editing and narrative. imagine a pretty good video game opening for 2001, but watched thru the haze of a really strenuous flu and it’s rented and ancient and was chewed up by at least two dogs so it’s glitching a lot. imagine a knight’s tale……………Reimagined™ (needlessly) by a team of randos who only speak italian and their ideas are being translated by jen from the IT crowd in that one episode where she pretends she can speak italian. imagine a movie with a budget of four dollars (except the budget was HUGE). imagine an opium dream within a dream of robert downey jr’s 2009 sherlock holmes where jude law becomes a boring, leathery king who has a bad habit of constantly sacrificing the silent women he supposedly loves to an undulating pile of lovecraftian horror water ladies that live in his shame toilet in his penis tower basement ONLY to super saiyan into a really bad DnD dude with a motorcycle-insignia-metal skull head and the torso of two The Rocks smashed together (sorry, The Rock) instead of (a much better) watson. imagine eragon, but somehow exceedingly, fremdschamenly, schadenfreudingly worse. not many things get both german expressions, in a gleefully terrible adverb form at that, but this movie——oh, THIS movie——-deserves them. 

the letters of the opening credits roll (or creep?) across the screen. the kerning is bad. all the T’s have a phallic, buffylike, sword motif going on and it renders the names unreadable. the colors and the blurry shots look like something out of monty python. again, who hired this editor? who watched this movie, kissed their fingertips like an italian grandma, and gently set this eldritch horror adrift on the tides of eternity to be received with fear and loathing by millions of human eyes? the elephants from lord of the rings attack the bridge from legend of zelda, and that red flamey eye guy from eragon (mordred, for some reason, in a shake n bake wig) ?? or possibly from inkheart?? is defeated. remember, we know nothing about these characters. feel nothing for them. and the trend continues. katie mcgrath appears, of course, in her standard and splendid emerald green, and then immediately dies. none of the shots in the first 20 minutes of the movie match up, we go from scenes with several people to ultra close ups of faces—-it’s like the “mmmm whatcha say” SNL skit, but serious. the movie continues to not know if it’s playing itself seriously or if it knows how bad it truly is (how bad me be?)

finally we get ONE establishing shot of a sweeping wall (maybe? the camera never stays still enough to tell) and the audience (five people) grounds ourselves, sort of. we get a whip-fast, but not whip-smart, super evolution of arthur’s childhood, in which he shoves coins into a wall (see kids!!! if u just put YR COINS IN YR WALLS instead of BUYING GODDAMN AVOCADOS, U COULD HAVE A CASTLE!!!!) and hearkens back to his character in pacific rim, bc he’s just a scrappy, vaguely appropriative white guy that loves 2 fight stuff. oh, his mom is killed when he’s young ofc. charlie hunnam eventually fucks off to the island w the sword in the sort-of stone (none of the physics makes sense in this movie?? the sword in the stone dropped into a lake, but is now in a chasm on a different island which shows no sign of the ruins of arthur’s childhood town?? in the final fight scene, charlie hunnam is several floors up from scythe-y jude law, but then suddenly they’re fighting on the top of saruman’s tower  scuse me at the whipping sea-level, then suddenly BACK IN THE TOWER bc i guess it wasn’t destroyed????? bc then it gets destroyed again??) of course, charlie hunnam is the One Man who can Grip the penis sword, even though in an interesting turn of events, They are Testing Everyone by shipping them in boats to the island (this seems like an egregious waste of resources). charlie hunnam got in this unfortch sitch bc i forgot, but the guy who put him on the boat chuckled darkly and said he was “”””getting on a different boat””””, but like, doesn’t everyone end up there?? it had the air of the DMV, on purpose, so why was this a threat? how did he avoid it for so long? are there that many people in the kingdom??? also, if i was him i’d straight up pretend i couldn’t lift it tbh and come back for it when They were getting donuts. oh, another inkheart thing—the BLONDE MOM SURVIVES (!!!??? somehow???? unexplained? she had a HOLE THRU HER BODY??) and maybe has memory loss or something and spends her days being somehow indispensable to jude law despite doing nothing but moving a plate. 

i cannot explain the rest of the plot, because i do not understand it. charlie hunnam just EXPERIENCES things with a world-weary, almost kingly worldliness, despite flashing in between being an innocent farm boy who doesn’t wanna do anything and a self-assured wisecracking hustler. there are some good jokes about boring white dude names in a medieval setting, and no more humor forever is allowed in this movie or any movies ever again. a chris parnell lookalike with a hat says he can shoot 75 yards but not 175, then shoots 175 with absolutely no introduction/buildup/continuance/jokes and spends the rest of the film as robin hood. there are some other dudes?????? more women (the brothel ladies that rescue arthur from the river ((not unlike….the prince of egypt…..)) are killed to further manpain, including lucy, who is Special for an unexplained reason. jude law murders his daughter (i guess???), who has a russian name and a tendency to sit around and stroke birds and stare sappily out the window (i feel u, johanna). everyone is wearing medieval versions of suits. there are many iterations of snake, ranging from economy-sized snake to a Giant Fuckmaster Snake Mother. at least five cloaks are cast off. eric bana becomes a literal rock. everything has the vague, shuddering feeling of an improv show where everyone wants the final word/bit. there is grit, there is dirt, there is snake blood, and there is clanking. so much clanking. charlie hunnam is bravely hurling one-liners but no one is listening. what is the sound of only one hand on excalibur???? apparently not as powerful as…………T W O hands on excalibur. 

the editing continues to be bizarre. they keep trying to do the inception thing where they talk about the plan while showing the plan, therefore (in inception, correctly) allowing us to get to the good parts, but there ARE NO GOOD PARTS or even parts at all and they don’t fully commit to the dang method anyway. the shining light of the film, an unnamed mage woman with good bone structure and sweet harem pants (and who COULD have at least been set up as morwen but was not) who can possess animals and also make a lot of dust fly around behind her, becomes charlie hunnam’s spiritual guide?? sort of?? maybe love interest??? she seems to have no interest in him or inhabiting the worldly narrative/plane of this movie. i do not blame her. anyway, she’s got the eagles from LOTR on her side. she dopes the shit out of charlie hunnam (again, why) with a literal snake and he solves his daddy/uncle issues (line @ jude law: “”””you created me”””””) in an incomprehensible nonlinear part of the narrative (she was captured, but i guess jude law let her go before hunnam got to the castle???? bc he’s Not So Bad After All? bc he was bored? eating a sandwich? fuck idk so she could have met him in the middle of fuck knows? i mean if they have medieval lyft or medieval twitter DMing or something??)  also, he may or may not have gone to a ””””””DARK””””””””island, but he did NOT solve his daddy issues there. he did, however, fight some rodents of unusual size from the princess bride. 

ok that is all the energy i have; this movie has sapped me, i am nothing in the great maw of its terribleness. other stuff happens. we have a happy ending, with 4/6ths of the Round Table built (literally and figuratively), and some Vikings conceding to charlie hunnam for no other reason than he’s a bro, i guess. line: how do u scam money out of a viking? u talk to them. SEE MILLENNIALS ALL U HAVE TO DO IS TALK AND PPL GIVE U MONEY or be born the true heir to the throne of (fake england). 

the worst part is that i don’t understand how jude law, who is 44, looks the same the entire movie and watches as charlie hunnam, who is 37, grows up and eventually challenges him. eric bana, who is 48, doubtlessly had fictional charlie hunnam arthur at like 27-35, making jude law the same age in that fiction. i guess men can just ???? play any age????????? forever??????? honorable mentions: the soundtrack, jude law’s eyeshadow, and the preview for atomic blonde. 

[a-wanderin-whirlybird]

Harry Potter AU

I got a Harry potter AU idea while reading the Dogfather by @nonasuch. It started in my head as similar but then it changed... big time.

So Harry is left on the Dursley’s door step and the Dursley’s say No Thank you and send him off to be adopted. And Harry is, but not by a muggle or a wizard, rather by the descendant of the Celtic Hero Cu Chulain and her friends and family, all of whom are descendants of ancient hero’s and Gods. He has an Aunt Lilac who owns a Gym and gives self-defense lessons and just sometimes has the sword Excalibur and gets into arguments with Oak trees/Merlin often. And his Godfather Mathias, he runs a restaurant and his gender was more fluid that water, being the descendant of Loki, and could catch fire at will. And Harry’s own father, Carter Elmhurst, had non-stop energy and could summon the Gae Bolg when angry. Harry is raised knowing he can talk to snakes, even getting one for his 10th birthday whom he names Mordred, something that makes Aunt Lilac laugh. He grows up arguing with Oak trees with his aunt when Merlin decides to be a Prat. He grows up with an understanding of death. And most importantly he grows up despising using magic for little to no reason and Hating the confines of the Chosen One. Below is a little story of Harry and his family getting ready for Hogwarts,

Harry sighed as he walked with his Dad through the streets of London. Accompanying them was a recently met Hagrid, his Aunt Lilac and his Godfather Mathias. Hagrid looked sheepish and a bit awkward with the three glowering ‘Muggles’ pressing close. Harry elbowed Hagrid.

“Chin up. They aren’t mad at you. I know for a fact that Aunt Lilac got into an argument with the tree in her front yard this morning. Mer was being an extra big Prat since he found out about the letter. And Dad just gets antsy.” Harry tried to sooth Hagrid who simply nodded as the odd group turned into the Leaky Cauldron. 

Getting through to Diagon Ally was easy and once there Hagrid launched into getting Harry set up with his inheritance and his supplies. Likely to lose the nervous energy. Harry watched as Godfather Mathias vanished into the crowd and Aunt Lilac lifted her head and straightened her back. Bringing her regal aura around her like a cloak. Harry felt Mordred, his little Ball Python, stir on his shoulders as they walked the bustling streets. 

“When do we eat?” Mordred hissed and Harry smiled. 

“Later, we have to shop first.” Harry responded, his Parsaltounge impeccable.

“Shame, I see a few fine rats in the windows. Could I eat them?” Harry laughed.

“No, no I think those are pets.” Harry responded.

“Shame, I doubt they would be missed. Wake me when these lugs figure out who your family is, that will be a show.” Mordred then curled a little tighter around Harry’s shoulders and fell asleep.

“Harry, pup, keep up.” Harry nodded as his father, Carter Elmhurst, paused to wait for him. Harry jogged over to him and took his father’s hand. 

Now, Gringotts was a bit of a scene. Aunt Lilac and Harry’s Dad got into an argument with the Goblins about how Minor’s should not be in charge of their fortunes, and why, if apparently they knew where Harry was all along, they did not contact them sooner. Harry has simply watched with a frantic and nervous Hagrid who had no clue how to respond to two ‘Muggles’ arguing with the Goblins. Said argument quickly turned into an outraged call for basic human rights to be respected for the Goblins and then Harry decided to wander off. After telling his Dad he was going to check out the shops with Mordred. 

Harry liked books. He had read all manner of books at home, everything from his Dad’s research, all heavily annotated and corrected historical tomes, to the beautiful fiction of Sir Terry Pratchett. After paroosing the sweets and sights, of course Harry ended in the Florish and Blotts Book shop. Harry happily lost himself in the shelves, eyes trained on the titles and spied one that seemed interesting. Hogwarts a History called to him, perched on the top shelf. Not that a silly thing like heights would stop him, Harry rolled up his sleeves and began to scale the floor to ceiling shelf. 

“Young Man!” Harry yelped as the shrill voice of a woman joined the unnatural feeling of being plucked away from the shelf by an intangible hand. Harry grumbled along with Mordred as they were jostled and lowered to the floor. “There is no need to climb the shelves! If you want to see a book simply ask, or get it yourself.” 

Harry turned to face the elderly woman wearing a large pointed hat with cracked teeth. She had her little button nose in the air and had an air of superiority about her that made Harry seethe. Harry adjusted his dress and pushed his ponytail back into place with a glare.

“I was getting it myself thank you, until you so rudely interrupted.” Harry watched the woman roll her eyes.

“Muggle-borns. Use magic child, there is no need to-”

“Why? I have working arms and legs and it’s a bookshelf. It would take great skill to slip off a bookshelf. Or a considerable lack of athleticism, which you clearly lack.” Harry heard Mordred laugh into his ear as the woman sputtered and walked away, calling for Harry’s Dad. Harry smirked and turned back to the shelf only to find a wild haired girl peeking out from behind the bookshelves.

“Why did you do that?” The girl asked.

“Do what?” 

“Yell at that woman, you could have just used magic! Isn’t that why you’re here? You’re going to Hogwarts right?” The girl asked walking towards Harry. Harry shrugged.

“Well yeah, but why should I use magic when I can easily climb the bookshelf? There’s no need to use magic for everything. I’m Harry by the way, Harry Elmhurst.” Harry held out his hand, which the girl took.

“I’m Hermoine Granger! And I guess I see your point. What were you trying to get anyways?” Hermoine asked, Harry pointed to the book.

“That one, it looked interesting.” Hermoine squinted and gasped.

“Oh! Hogwarts a History! I read that one! It’s so fascinating!”

“Yeah It looks it! I wanted to flip through it before Dad came by with Aunt Lilac and Godfather Mathias. But that woman got stupid.” Hermoine rolled her eyes and sighed.

“Well alright, here I’ll give you a boost if you grab the Codex for Rare and Unusual Lineages for me.” 

So the deal was struck and Harry, boosted by Hermoine scrambled up the bookshelf and nabbed both the books much to the shouting of various old people. the two children then darted off to a quiet corner, giggling with their prizes, and settled down to read. It only took a few minutes before Hermoine asked another question.

“Why do you do that?” Harry cocked his head.

“Do what?”

“You whisper to your snake. Why?” Hermoine asked, holding her hand out to Mordred who tentatively sniffed, then gently wrapped around her arm. Harry chuckled.

“Oh Mordred has some cool things to say. I speak snake, which, this book says is called Parsaltongue. My Godfather Mathias got him for me last year for my Birthday. He is very smart!” Harry said beaming. Hermoine squeaked.

“You are?! could you show me? it sounds-”

“Dull.” Harry and Hermoine turned to the snivelly new voice. A boy with platinum blonde hair was sneering at them, a man who looked like his father preening in the background.

“So what you say you can speak Parsaltongue, only the heir of Slytherin can do that! And you’re just a Mud-Blood.” Harry sighed as Hermoine shrank a bit. 

“Leave us alone, We just want to read in peace.” Harry said, though he knew that wouldn’t happen.

“I just thought I’d stop your delusion before you hurt yourself. Parsaltongue. pah! You should just go crawling back to that pathetic place you Mud-bloods call home and never return. Neither of you belong here, especially you girl. I’m sure there is a zoo somewhere that would love to have their elephant back!” 

“Fight him Brother. I will keep the girl safe.” Mordred hissed rather loudly as his grip on Hermoine tightened and she shrank more. Harry stood up and Hissed back.

“Sure thing Brother. Make sure you actually have our story straight this time yeah?” Mordred laughed as Harry darted forward and decked the boy square in the face. There was a crunch as a nose broke and a thud as snotty boy fell back. Harry was on top of the boy hand pulled back for another blow.

And another blow did land and another and another. The red haze took Harry’s vision before he was suddenly yanked away and flung down the isle. Harry landed with a heavy thud by the store’s door, blood pumping in his ears. He watched as the elder man, possibly the other boy’s father stepped forward, wand raised, and his mouth moving  to form words, but Harry didn’t hear them. But he saw the light, and he saw a familiar figure step in front of him. then sound returned as the burning light of a spell fizzled out.

“Dad?” Harry gasped, his ribs aching.

“Harry, darling, sit still a second yeah?” Harry recognized the kind and soothing voice of Mathias squatting next to him. Standing in front of him was his dad, and Aunt Lilac and a deadly still store.

Aunt Lilac had the blonde man that had hexed him, sword at his throat, wand lying upon the floor cut cleanly in half. She held herself perfectly, her very DNA moved her into the stance of a knight holding back a foe. And before him, smoking from the after effects of the hex that had been cleanly cut, a jagged thorn wreathed spear in hand was his Dad. Teeth sharp and eyes glowing red in rage. Beside him, his Godfather sizzled, a fire burning in his belly that poured smoke from his mouth. Harry smiled and turned to Hermoine who looked shocked.

“Right. I suggest you stand down Sir. Don’t want this to get any uglier.” Mathias drawled. picking Harry up to his feet as he to stood. Raising to a full 10 ft tall much to the awe of the store.

“Stand down?” That boy attacked my son Draco!” The man hissed and Aunt Lilac laughed.

“And for picking a fight my son shall be punished. By me. Not by you and not by trying to throw him through a window.” Draco’s father snorted.

“Says the man whose Whore of a wife has a sword to my throat.” Harry laughed as his dad, voice heavy and monotone spoke.

“Lilac is my half sister dumbass also your king, technically. Mathias here is my best friend and ten times more threatening than you. and Harry here is my son.” His father pointed at the man. “Now walk away, and we will stand down. Comprende?” 

“I will have your son expelled before he even reaches Hogwarts!” The man spat, and Harry laughed. “Whats so funny Brat?”

“What’s funny is that you couldn’t expel me if you tried! I don’t want to go but Dad’s of the opinion that you need to learn to control power not ignore it.”

“Harry. Now is not the time.” Harry stopped laughing as his Dad turned to him, and nodded.

“Sorry Dad.” 

“Now. Leave.” Draco’s Dad began to speak before Lilac barked.

“Leave now, that’s an order!” The man and his son Draco were helpless as they were propelled out of the shop by the strength of their own legs, but not of their own accord.  Lilac then turned to the shop at large, the authority in her voice still present. “The rest of you back to your business!” 

And with that the store returned to normal, Hermoine crawled out of her hiding space, clutching the forgotten books and Mordred wrapped tightly around her forearm. She raced over to Harry as his family returned to normal, and slammed down the books.

“What was that? I’ve never read anything about magic like that!” 

“Friend of yours Harry?” Mathias asked as Mordred slithered back to the boy.

“Erm, Hermoine I’ll explain but uh, are you ok?” Hemroine scoffed.

“Am I ok? I’m fine! Are you ok is a better question! That, that, monster could have killed you! All be cause you stood up for me.”

“And myself to.” Harry reminded. H gasped as Hermoine hugged him. 

“Right. Harry, I’ll get your books, why don’t you and your new friend go with your Dad back to Olivanders?” Aunt Lilac offered the sword vanishing. 

“Uh sure, Hermoine do you want to join us?” 

A few minutes later, Hemroine was walking with Harry and his Dad. Harry listened as his Dad reprimanded him, rather gently, and checked to make sure he wasn’t to badly hurt. After a little while Hermoine spoke again.

“But really Harry, what was that?  I’ve never heard of any kind of summoning weapons spells. I also thought Muggle’s weren’t allowed in Diagon Ally, even if they were with their children?” There was a snarl and a whispered curse from Harry’s Dad at that.

“Well, My Family aren’t muggles, but they aren’t wizards or witches either.” Harry said. “See they’re Divine Descent.”

“Divine Descent?” Hermoine asked.

“Yeah so they each have an ancestor who was divine or a mythical hero. My Godfather is a Descendant of Loki. Aunt Lilac is King Arthur’s successor and Dad is... Dad, do you want to tell her?” Harry asked. For the first time since getting to Diagon Ally Harry saw his dad give a big smile and he struck a pose, pulling the Jagged spear out of thin air.

“I am a proud descendant or Ireland! The Heir of the Ulster Cycle’s greatest Hero! The Hound of Ireland! Child of Light! I am the Heir of the Gae Bolg, a warrior and a noble soul! I am the descendant of Cu Cuchulain!” Harry laughed as his Dad’s theatrics came to an end, he even heard Hermoine giggle a bit. Harry’s dad cleared his throat, sending the Gae Bolg back to the Aether.

“In short out family, Minus Harry here, all have divine blood that has manifested as traits similar to our divine ancestor. There is a form of magic with it, but it’s not the same you will be learning. Our magic is based on the power of our own creation and our hard work. Lilac had to train herself to have other obey her orders with out question and in doing so became a respected member of society. I trained with a spear for years before I could summon Gae Bolg.”

“What about you Harry? Are you secretly Merlin? or Morgana?!” Hermoine asked, turning back to Harry who shook his head.

“Nah, Dad Adopted me when I was a Baby. The police found me with a letter that gave my first name and not my last, so Dad kept my name the same. I’m just Plain old wizard Harry.” Hermoine shook her head.

“No you’re not! You’re Harry my friend and the boy who can talk to snakes!”  Harry smiled as Hermoine pet Mordred in the doorway to Olivanders. 

Friends. He like the sound of that.