Hi everyone! This is the greatest idea I've kept in my heart for a long time.
A magus OC from the 21st century inserted into Sir Kay! A changeling knight of the round table!
Morgan with some backstory! Not a Shirou MC time-travel fic! YIPEEEEE!
PLEASE LIKE'N'FOLLOW IF YOU ARE INTERESTED!
HERE WE GO!
Chapter1 The Changeling and The Two Queens
POV?
I am a full-grown man.
And I am in diapers.
With my mouth on a beautiful girl's boobs.
Uh, I phrased it wrong.
Ok, please don't arrest me, let me explain!
…Please?
Thank you. Now, where should I start at….
The very beginning?
As you wish! Ladies and gentlemen!
Allow me to tell you a marvelous tale of a young soul, transported through dimensions, and straight into a newborn's body like some cursed birthday gift.
Yes, I am a man from the 21st century.
And I somehow ended up waking inside the body of a zero-year-old.
Yeah, that is what happened!
I was a mage-hunter, by the way.
The executor of the Holy Church.
Does that ring any bells? No? A shame.
The Holy Church is a place where raving fanatics hunt down raving lunatics. Get the general Idea?
My tutor was Kotomine Kirei. That explains why I'm dead.
Oh, you know Kirei!? That fucking bastard?
He tricked me into using the Shroud of Magdalene, which main power is to RESTRICT AND BIND A MALE.
Oh yes. He told me that the Shroud is the key to capturing our target, a vampire.
What he didn't explain, is that I should never make physical contact with it.
There I was, a trussed-up turkey waiting to be eaten.
Apparently, he just forgot to send backup. Sarcasm fully intended.
Kirei killed me along with the vampire when it was busy feeding on me.
Convenient, eh?
I died, praying to whatever high being at home.
Allah, Buddha, Jesus-I didn't care.
I prayed for them to smite down that piece of shit.
I also prayed for FROM SOFTWARE to release their new game.
I prayed for a second chance.
They answered.
Ah well, the last wish, that is.
They just don't let me choose, don't they?
At least they gave me a new life, even though not in a way I had expected.
Who could predict their next life would be in medieval Britain?
As a baby, nonetheless.
Shit, I pissed myself. AGAIN.
I will make the best diapers in this world once I grow up, I swear!
I shall be called King of the diapers!
No guarantees, by the way.
Oh, here comes mommy. She's gorgeous.
Hey, not in a sexual way, of course!
She's my flesh and blood, no matter what. I'm NOT into real-life incest, bro.
Anyway, she is the most stunning woman I've ever seen in my whole life.
With her long pale-blond hair, dazzling porcelain skin and enticing features, accompanied by emerald eyes which glittered with a hint of gold, she was just exorbitant.
At least, from her child's eyes.
"Mama! Mama!", I giggled.
Her eyes widened with overflowing joy as she scooped me up into her arms, smiling from ear to ear while doing so.
"My child. My beautiful son. My only true love. My hope in the dark. I shall give you everything in the world. I shall commit every kind of atrocity for you. I shall do whatever you want."
She kissed me thrice, twice on each eye and once on the tip of my nose.
I held up my chubby arms to softly caress her cheek, enjoying the way she looked at me with ferocious, fiery love.
I was an abandoned child, found on the cold steps of a church.
They took me in, fed me, but they never gave me much love.
Once they found out I had a splendid talent in fighting, they sent me to the Holy Church.
The rest, as they do NOT say, is spartan history.
At least my mentor grew on me and came to love me as a younger brother.
I was very fortunate to have her, Bazzet Fraga McRemitz was her name.
She died though, a few years before my own unfortunate death.
I have a vague idea of who did it.
That son of a bitch….
Welp, that is why I am craving for maternal love, and my mother gave me that in buckets.
She practically drowns me in her love every day, almost with some kind of unhealthy obsession.
There are times when I suspect I am the only thing stopping her from going off the deep end.
Oh, if only I knew about her truth!
If only I knew how accurate my suspicions were!
I guessed she must be a high-born, with her black tiara and dress, along with how she often wore a veil when in the presence of a servant.
What I didn't know was her true name.
An infamous name known wide across history.
The witch-queen, the sister of King Author, the mistress of the dark.
Morgan Le Fay.
POV Morgan
Morgan cradled her precious baby, her Artorias.
How adorable he is!
How wonderful he is!
She thought back to the time she conceived him.
Her son, Artorias Pendragon, rightful heir to the iron throne.
His father was a man like no other.
He wasn't strong, but he was kind.
When she was suffering, he always cooked for her a delicious feast.
When she was sad, he held her hand and stayed by her side without uttering a word.
When she was angry, he listened to the curses she spouted at him.
He was there when she was at her most vulnerable after she fled Camelot.
He was one of the many nameless knights whom died for the king.
He died for her sister, Artoria Pendragon.
And because of that, she would never forgive her sister.
She took almost everything away from her without so much of lifting a finger.
Her fame, her name, her home, and then her love.
She will NOT let her take away her son. NEVER.
She hungrily stared into her son's eyes, trying to tell him without words how she loved him more than anything of this world.
The night crept its way into the sky as the sun sank.
The full moon basked her bedroom in silver light as stars lit the night sky with a faint glow.
'Time to sleep.', she yawned as she climbed onto her enormous bed, her baby tucked close to her chest.
The blankets were carefully wrapped around her baby, keeping him from the cold.
Morgan drearily looked at the peaceful face of her sleeping son, as she too drifted into the void of dreams.
'What shall I do with my son on the morrow', she thought with a warm smile.
Stillness filled the now silent room.
Abruptly, a distortion took place in the now shadowy room.
A colorless void appeared.
Not the void of dreams, however.
The void to the other side of the world manifested in space, unnoticed by the slumbering queen.
A gate has been opened, by someone, or something.
A glowing hand reached out.
The hand snatched the baby in one swift swoop.
The void closed, as abruptly as it has opened.
Stillness returned to the room.
Morgan's hand twitched, somehow sensing the absence of her soothing warmth.
Her eyelids fluttered open; her eyes still unfocused.
Her hands hovered over the place her baby boy used to be.
She felt a cold body.
Sleep gone from her eyes, she leaped up, kicking off her blankets and revealing the thing underneath.
The dead body of an infant.
Cold, unmoving, rigid.
Her pupils dilated as her breath quickened.
NO.
NO.
NO.
NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!
Not her baby, she prayed.
'Not my son!'
But the truth denied her fragmented hopes, the truth baring its fangs like some vicious beast.
The body of her son.
So cold, so light.
His life, snatched away from her arms.
Snuffed out like a candle in the dark.
'He was murdered.', a cruel part of her mind thought. 'By whom?'
The murderer must have known his birthright.
'The mongrel has used fae magic', she suddenly realized. 'He or she must have used a type of magic synced with dreams, or it would have triggered off the hundreds of traps I've set around.'
Morgan froze.
A mage, whom specialize in dreams.
A mage, whom is powerful enough to circumvent her defenses.
A mage, she knew well.
Morgan's shoulders shook.
"Ha, hahahaha. Heeheehee. HA, HA. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Small chuckles gradually grew into out bursting laughter as Morgan's beautiful face contorted with madness.
"Merlin.", she whispered. "Oh, dear Merlin. Mage of flowers."
"You wanted my son that much?"
"You wanted to tear apart my love that much?"
She threw back her head as fits of maniacal laughter took hold of her once more.
Morgan inhaled deeply as she passed a hand over her face.
Silence engulfed the room once more as she looked down upon her baby's body.
She looked up.
The deadly smile that was etched onto her face was nowhere to be seen.
In its place, there was an emotionless mask.
A cruel, calculating mask.
The mask people fear as Morgan Le Fay.
"Very well.", she said in a monotone, "Let there be war."
In a land of magic, the kingdom of fairies. The other side of the world.
Dragons flew in the sky as Behemoths shattered the ground and Leviathans tossed the sea.
The inner world, where all kinds of magic collide.
In this fearsome world, a kingdom was seen floating above a massive forest.
In the kingdom, there was a massive castle of ivory and gold, with its humungous castle walls of arcane iron, taller than any other tower in Britain.
Inside the castle, a Queen ran towards the throne room with a small bundle in her arms.
Royal doctors in white robes ran after her with helpless, but suspiciously relieved looks on their faces, as if they had somehow managed to dodge a bullet.
The royal guards gave each other a knowing look as they pushed open the enchanted oak doors without a word.
The queen took no notice of these peculiar behaviors however, too immersed in her own excitement as she was, she ran over to her lord in his mighty throne.
"Look!", she shouted in jubilance, "My son! Our son, my king!"
Oberon stood up from his throne with a wide smile as he hugged his wife and their newborn 'son'.
A complex, fleeting expression filled with inner turmoil crossed his face but was gone in an instant.
He remembered how devastated, how horrified his wife looked when nobody dared to answer what happened to their first newborn son.
His Titania, his proud queen of fae had been on the brink of madness.
So, he did what he could, what he must.
He took in a foster son.
A changeling.
Fae minds are very different compared with human minds, for they are an entirely different species, no matter how similar they might be.
For a fae female, children are the soul of life itself.
Frankly spoken, they are driven mad if their children leave them in death.
Being a fae means being immortal.
It also indicates that fae children are very, very rare.
Almost non-existent, one may even say.
Fae breeds not because of need, but because of an unbearable, emotional drive of love for the other.
You could say a fae 'makes' love, for sexual interactions are not needed when a fae bears a kid.
Thus, it is common for a fae to take in a changeling as 'desperate measures'.
Kay, they named him, was one of them.
He was selected because of the fae blood he inherited from his mother, Morgan, and because he was a newborn.
Oberon traced his 'son's' cheek in affection.
No matter what, this baby was now, by all means, his son.
Their son.
The proof of their undying love.
The anchor Titania needs.
The prince of fairies.
Oberon lifted his son as he walked over to the royal balcony overseeing his kingdom.
He lifted his son high up in the air, straight to the heavens.
He held up his heir for the whole world to see.
His magnified voice boomed through his entire kingdom like divine thunder.
"Behold, your prince!"
"BEHOLD YOUR PRINCE!", his entire army repeated after him.
"Behold, the glorious prince of the fae!"
"BEHOLD THE GLORIOUS PRINCE OF FAE!", his army chanted.
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!", a civilian shouted.
More and more joined the chorus, as musicians flooded the kingdom with their merry music, and bards sang their enchanting songs.
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!"
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!"
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!"
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!"
"LONG LIVE THE PRINCE!"
Zealous shouts shook the kingdom as agitated dragons roared above.
"LONG LIVE, FAE PRINCE KAY!"
In the midst of this, the baby in question cracked upon one bleary eye.
There was only one thought on his mind as he slowly observed his bizarre surroundings.
'What in the actual fuck?'
Here it is, folks.
This is an experimental attempt, so please Follow, Love,n' Review if you want more!
X-kalibuuuur, over and out!