Author's Note:

If you read the title, you'll know this is not a run of the mill fanfic. It is an Elseworld set in medieval times only with elves, mages, and trolls and all those fun creatures and of course, normal humans as well.

I tried my best to give the main characters a way to have their power as well different ways to integrate things you would recognize from the normal Marvel timeline and some things that are totally out in left field from all you know (just to warn you if something seems wacky, I'm pretty familiar with Marvel timeline but to totally copy it into an Elseworld would be quite burdensome and near impossible to fit the kind of story I'm going for- but I promise it won't hurt too much).

Remember: A fortnight is 40 days and nights. Elves are immortal unless scathed mortally by wound, incurable illness, or cursed… also, as long as they remain in Elden. Humans live about 70-80 years. Vampires, of course, are eternal unless they are in sunlight. Finally, Faeries are eternal as well.

PLEASE: If you lose interest, please leave feedback to explain why! I want to know what my writing lacks. Thank you!

MAIN CHARACTERS: Storm, Nathan Dayspring, Apocalypse (had to have a bad guy), Gambit, and other various characters sprinkled throughout.

Now shall we begin?

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Chapter 1

Electricity crackles from within the woods, and a brilliant light illuminates the forest path taken by a dark warrior maiden. She emerges from the wood to the crisp, cool air of the night and marvels at the brilliance of the scattered stars in the sky. The light provided by her clenched fist dissipates as she relies on the moon to aid her way home to Elden- home of elves, mythical place hidden within an enchanted wood that can only be imagined by most of the Outworld. Her white horse maintains a steady pace; as horse and rider create an interesting spectacle in the sleeping town- were there anyone awake to see it. They wind through the dark, deserted streets of the city under the silver moon, the horse still remembering the path after so many years. She breathes in deeply of the pure air and once more tells herself, "It's good to be home."

As she reaches the palace, she cannot believe how little it's changed in the 13 years she's been gone. The ivy still snakes up the towers, fireflies dance around the gardens, and the fountain still bubble in the same rhythm- not even the crumbling statue of the dragon that once guarded Elden has degenerated further. Not even before her feet touch the ground does Jean rush out and hug her in a warm embrace.

"Easy there- you'll snap my ribcage even in this armor! It's nice to be welcome back home!"

"It's about time you've come home- we've been waiting for ages- and you couldn't have picked a better or worse time- take your pick."

She shakes her head at Jean, perplexedly as she struggles with unlatching the saddle from the horse. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Jean's green eyes droop in sadness. "Ororo, Achmed's dying."

It takes several seconds for her brain to process the statement just made by her best friend. When it clicks, tears spring to her eyes and she breathes in sharply, feeling a lump form in her throat and tightness in her chest.

"I'm really sorry, Ororo. When you sent a messenger to say you were coming, we had no way of contacting you mid-journey…"

"Is he in his bedroom?"

"Yes. He's sleeping."

"Then let me know when he wakes. I'll be in the mage loft… I need… some time alone."

"I understand. You'll be the first to know when he awakes."

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"Mistress Ororo… the King wishes to see you now."

The spell the blazing fireplace held upon the young warrior being addressed was broken and she turned her face form the light and heat, her face cooling in the darkness. "Thank-you, Katya." She heads for the doorway and pauses, placing a weary hand on the girl's shoulder. "Kitten, how is he faring?" The normally cold warrior holds her friend's brown eyed gaze in a desperate, almost frightening intensity.

"He… is not improving. The Healer believes he will die tonight- if not within the hour."

The only noise following the statement is the snap of a log in the fireplace and sparks filter up the chimney. After Ororo exits the room, Kitty collapses on the floor and sobs, tears cascading down her cheeks for the dying Father of Elden.

She enters the room reservedly, not knowing what to expect. Candles and incense burn everywhere, giving off the scent of the forest meadows. "My lord…" Her voice is steady and she thanks the Great Faerie for that much.

"You know such formality is not needed between us."

She smiles through her coming tears. "Father Achmed."

"Come here, Ororo. Don't linger in the doorway."

Her worn leather boots tread softly on the thick oak panels of the floor and the candles flicker as she passes them. She reaches the bedside and kneels. Finally, she is able to see his face. It has been three months since he fell ill and twelve years since she has seen him last. The once robust, lively man lay bedridden- forced to have someone spoon feed him soft foods and wet his lips with a sponge so he could just drink water. The illness has left his body ravaged and frail.

He's so fragile, she thinks of her formerly invincible father as she clasps his bony hand in her brown one. And his hands like ice… "Father, are you cold?"

"No, no. Are my hands cold again?" he coughs and Ororo holds her kerchief to his mouth, pretending it is not blood she wipes from his lips and chin. He continues,

"They go on and off- warm to cold, nothing to fret about if it can't be helped."

"I've missed you," she says quietly, rubbing his hands to warm them somewhat. Her heart aches to will her youthful strength into his body, to kill whatever it is that is taking him from her.

His grey eyebrows arch, and in his blindness, he tries his best to look towards her. "You? I find that hard to believe. When you left, you said…"

"Evil, spiteful things- words you did not deserve and I'm so sorry I did not hold my tongue. My temper has been tamed, somewhat, since then. I cannot apologize enough."

"No need- I know you were angry. And I too am sorry. For arranging your marriage to En Sabah Nur when it made you so unhappy. I should've have been a father before being a king."

"That's just the beginning of the fairy tale in this kingdom."

He chuckles and raises a hand up to her face, reaching to stroke her long platinum hair, only to grasp nothing. "Ororo… your hair…"

"I had to sell something to buy food when I first set out, not many people willing to offer reputable work to a fifteen year old girl. I later decided to keep it short- it has its advantages in combat," she laughs nervously.

"Geddes and Nymon," he muses. "I've heard of your good leadership skills in the battlefield- most reports were of your ability to connect with all the people, victims, or warriors. You get that from your mother." He leaned in closer, "You may not know it, but I lost 27 of the best warriors I could hire from the Outlands keeping track of you. Never knew they'd need protected instead." He giggled gleefully and then turned serious, "Ororo, please take my throne when I pass to Tara, heaven."

Tears sting her eyes and she wipes them away, refusing to cry in his presence. Be strong, Ororo. Everyone dies… Great Fairy give me strength! She tries her best to not stumble on her words. "I will, father. I'll try to rule as you have."

"No- you must rule as you would, Ororo. I may be blind, but I am not deaf and my messengers have brought many counts of trouble brewing in the out-world and soon, or maybe many years from now, it will come to a boil- and my people need to be prepared. They're just farmers and tradesmen with magic. You, however, are a warrior and can educate them the skills they nee-." His body begins to writhe in another, more severe coughing fit. Cecilia, the Healer, rushes in and he waves her away, knowing it is futile and he has but moments left.

"Cecilia, Ororo is… the... l-leader of Elden now." He struggles hard with the words, obviously frustrated with his tongue. "Long live the Queen." He whispers up to her before he falls back on his satin pillows, eyes closing in eternal slumber.