fics I read

A series of soft raps pulled him from the book he had been attempting to read, a process that was only made harder as the sunlight began to wane, being replaced by the artificial light of the various magical crystals that dotted the estate.

With a word of acknowledgment, get closed the book with a light snap before setting it on his desk, directly next to a steaming pitcher of tea that Grassis had brought earlier, both to his pleasure and surprise.

In that time, the door had already been opened and reclosed, the chair directly across from him now being occupied by the enigmatic face of Reinhard, who had somehow crossed the distance of the room in but a moment, all the while not making an audible sound.

While no words had been spoken, he was more than familiar with the face of someone who was hiding their emotions under a neutral facade, it was one that often wore himself after all.

"Not good news I assume," He deftly poured another cup with a second mug that had suspiciously been included with the one Grassis had offered him, honestly those girls…

Reinhard accepted the offered mug in silence, cradling it in his hands, the rapidly increasing temperature of the mug seemingly not affecting him in the slightest.

"I've been ordered to remain in the capital, the sages want my presence to quell public unrest, and assure them such an event won't happen again."

"I see," he took a sip from his own mug, its contents lukewarm instead of steaming hot, "That throws a bit of a hitch into our plans."

Reinhard didn't respond, his eyes muddy and unfocused.

"Oh well," Arthur murmured, drawing a confused look from his partner, "No use crying over spilled milk."

"But what about the trip to the marquess's domain?"

"What of it? I'll simply have to travel there alone."

Reinhard bristled at the idea, tightening his hands on his mug, a stunning display of emotion from the otherwise imperturbable man.

"But as your Knight, I should be there, assisting you, if I can't even do that…"

"Reinhard…" Arthur sighed, unable to look away from the mirror image of himself across the table, "It's no fault of your own that you've been constrained here, I'd have to be the biggest hypocrite in the world if I held it against you."

Silence descended between the two, yet unlike before the silence wasn't suffocating, instead, it was one that carried the knowledge that neither of them needed to say anything more, they understood.

It was pleasant indeed.

"Are you absolutely sure we cannot locate it sooner?"

"I'm afraid not my lady, tracking the White Whale is hard enough, and after how disastrous the last crusade was… I suppose I'm the only fool still attempting to locate it."

"I see, I should have expected as much Wilhelm, you were kind enough to merely give us the opportunity and here I am attempting to push you even further."

The woman huffed, her verdant hair cascading behind her back as tilted her head, his eyes furrowing as they scanned over a seemingly endless number of documents, each a summary of available troops and munitions as well as strategies and the beginning of what was to become a final battleplan.

"In the face of the odds we face, I believe I'd be more concerned if you weren't pushing any further, Lady Crusch. And after the incident a few days ago I more than understand your position."

At his words, Crusch slumped farther in her seat, a vulnerable act that she would never allow if anyone else could possibly see it.

"First the loss of the royal family, and now a direct attack on the capital, even with the Sword Saint present no less." She sighed as she turned to face a rather large window that ran down the better part of the wall that faced toward the front of the manor.

Outside a light wind blew, causing the trees and grass to lightly flutter, a sight that would typically calm her nerves and allow her to focus and clear her head.

Not today, instead the serene sight seemed to taunt her, standing only to contrast the stagnant atmosphere of her office.

"My lady, while my words might come off as crass and heartless, please know I don't speak out of malice," Wilhelm slowly spoke, drawing the attention of the duchess, his eyes sparkling with memories she would never witness, "I'm my opinion such an event was inevitable as long as the kingdom continued to delude itself believing a single weapon would ensure it's safety. For those who are most dangerous care not if the price of their belief is their life, and if someone has that mindset what does the presence of an individual, no matter how powerful they might be, matter?"

"Another fair point Wilhelm." Crusch weakly smiled, "It seems the discussion to recruit you was one of my best."

"You praise an old man too much I'm afraid."

"Still can you blame them?"

At Crusch's questioning gaze, Wilhelm's brows furrowed, not completely understanding her question.

She seemed to notice his unspoken question as she spoke again, "Can you honestly blame them for placing that expectation on the current Sword Saint?"

"Why couldn't I, after all I believe the common phrase is 'Don't put all your eggs in a single basket' does that not apply here?"

His words elicited a soft smile from the duchess, "I suppose you, out of everyone in this world, would be immune to it, considering your relationship with him."

Her words caused the older man to bristle, his posture becoming more defensive, but before he could speak the green-haired woman continued, her gaze now firmly fixated beyond the glass window, to the bustling city visible far beyond the manor's walls.

"Much of the population grew up hearing tale's of Reinhard, beginning with his victory in a duel against his father when he was a mere five years old, and only a few years later the Kingdom passed the Reinhard Law, not to mention that for a better part of a decade, the kingdom's immediate response to a threat by the Cult or a Great Mabeast has been to throw him at it. It's no surprise then that people expect safety when in his presence. Even I couldn't escape stories regarding his exploits and I'm older than him."

"I hadn't thought of it like that." Wilhelm admitted, causing him to regain Crusch's attention, "I must admit I never knew Reinhard was a popular figure outside of the knights."

"Popular is an understatement," Crusch scoffed, "Yet it's surface level at best, merely children wishing to grow to be as strong as him, aside from his official duties very little is known about him to the public, honestly I can say the same regarding my knowledge of him, I couldn't tell you much more than his combat potential and I doubt even that is accurate."

"It's accurate enough."

"I suppose," Crusch relented, trusting that Wilhelm, even with his damaged relationship with his grandson, would know better than her, "The point that I was trying to make is that for better or worse Reinhard is a figurehead for many, and in this case, the mystery that surrounds him amplifies him to an even larger than life individual but leaves people reeling when they are finally confronted with interacting with him, even other knights aren't immune to this."

"Yes… Felix has relayed the details of that… incident to me."

"Nya, did I hear someone say my nyame?" Came a new voice, the door to the study slowly swinging open to reveal a cat-eared demi-human.

"Ah Felix, good news I hope?"

"Indeed Lady Crusch! The Blacksmiths says nyat the weapons will be done on time."

"Good, nothing can go wrong, we can't risk entering this unprepared, to that end…"

Shuffling her hand into one of the many interior breast pockets inside the jacket she wore, a sealed envelope extracted itself from the folds of her uniform, a quick visual inspection later she deftly handed it to Wilhelm who accepted it with a small bow.

"Please take that to Anastasia, I had hoped to complete this expedition with our strength alone, but after recent events…"

"I understand, pride should not be our undoing."

A new day had dawned and with it the Astrea manor was sent into a flurry of activity.

A dragon carriage had been acquired and within the hour it had been packed with more items than he could hope to use in a month, let alone the mere week the trip was scheduled for.

Various outfits were packed within the carriage, not including the white suit he had worn during the selection, he was currently wearing that particular suit.

Yet, most importantly one of the two heavily padded seats housed the only other soul that would accompany him during his time at Roswaal's manor, the sleeping form of Felt had been painstakingly and carefully moved to the carriage by both him and Reinhard.

After a long discussion, they had come to a consensus that Felt should follow him on his trip, that way, should she wake up, it would at least be in the company of someone she held some meager amount of trust in.

"I think that just about does it." Arthur announced as he stepped out of the carriage, Reinhard hot on his heels.

Besides Reinhard, the only other people present were the twins and the driver Reinhard had hired to take him there and back, a young merchant with ashen hair named Otto who was apparently so down on his luck that even the fabled Sword Saint had no choice but to pity him.

Nevertheless, it was nice to know that regardless of how the trip went at the very least it would do someone some good, he had no doubt that Reinhard would pay the wayward merchant well.

"Surely theres-"

"It's fine Reinhard, we've got enough cargo for a small army loaded in this carriage, I already fear for the steeds that have to pull it."

"I have to agree with Lord Pendragon, Sir Astrea, there is a limit to how much the ground dragons can pull even if it is rather large."

Despite the hesitancy he could hear in the merchant's voice, he couldn't help but admire the courage it had to take for the man to interject in their conversation.

"Of course, I should have known better."

"It's fine Reinhard." Arthur waved off his words, "As the saying goes it's better to be safe than sorry, the hard part is knowing where to stop, lest we create more problems for ourselves."

Out of the corner of his vision, he could see Otto slowly nodding his head at his words.

"Alright, don't let Reinhard sulk too much alright, Flam, Grassius," Arthur spoke to the twins, who briefly looked at each other before nodding at the same time.

Otto made his way toward the front of the carriage as he mounted the carriage once more before stopping.

"Oh, and Reinhard?" He spoke looking over his shoulder, "Please, don't forget my words."

"I'll try my best." The knight responded.

"That's all I could ask."

Only seconds later he was seated in the lavish carriage as it slowly moved onto the busy streets of the noble district, the Astrea manor slowly fading out of sight.

The carriage traversed the sparsely populated noble district, passing a few carriages as it went, none having the opulence that was extruded by the carriage Reinhard had commissioned, it's blue and white exterior contrasted by the blazing red ensign of the Astrea family. With Arthur's minuet knowledge, he would have expected the carriages they passed to favor the more economic districts of the capital.

Before long the extravagant manors of the nobility started to dwindle, sharing the space with large townhouses before disappearing entirely, and even from behind the windows of the carriage he could make out that traffic had increased drastically and their speed all but slowed to a halt at various well-trafficked areas.

For a moment, as the carriage pulled out onto a vast roadway that Reinhard informed him was the start of the Lifaus Highway, he could make out the area that he had entered the world in, its visage quickly disappearing as the dragon carriage started to gain speed.

Sparing a glance at his riding partner, the curls of her golden hair resting comfortably on a bench that no doubt cost more money than she had ever seen before in her life, he sent a brief thanks to the staff of the manor who replaced her soiled attire with a nicer and less damaged outfit.

The Felt that had interrupted the Royal Selection could barely be recognized anymore unless he focused on his memory of the incident, the absence of blood and wounds made the sight slightly jarring when he considered the timeframe between them.

In his previous life, the injuries she had received wouldn't have even begun to heal, and likely they never truly would have.

But he wasn't naive enough to believe she would magically be fine when she awoke, not all scars were as easily healed, and those hardest to heal rarely left marks.

Soon cobblestone gave way to earth as they crossed the final gate that separated the capital from the outside world, giving Arthur his first look at the new world he was dropped in.

Green plains stretched farther than the eye could see, and trees dotted the planes in odd increments, although none were more than a few hundred meters from the walls.

Content to watch the landscape, he comfortably settled in the seat, his eyes glued outside the window as he waited.

Hours had passed, and outside the carriage barely visible from the windows affixed to the carriage, was the midday sun having risen to its apex in the sky, its orange hue clearly visible in the cloudless sky.

Unlike this travel companion, he had found no solace in rest, dreamless sleep having all but vanished from him following the past few days, the black void typically afforded to him when he closed his eyes being consumed by an all-consuming inferno, a million and one different things he could have done running through his head.

Shaking his head vainly hoping it would clear his mind, he spared a glance towards the window before moving his vision to Felt for a moment. Feeling content that she wouldn't magically wake he stood, not hesitating for a moment as he hooked the door to the carriage and threw it open, stepping onto the shallow steps that led to the door before shutting it behind him.

Mere inches below his feet the ground flew by in a blur, the texture of the ground all but invisible at the breakneck pace the carriage was traveling at blurring into a litany of green and brown.

Few would even fathom his next actions, but it was child's play to someone like him, with a soft push he jumped onto the top of the carriage, the force of his jump flexing the steps below him and causing the carriage to veer to the right slightly as his actions strained the wheels against the ground.

"What the hell!"

A brief exclamation could be heard from the front of the carriage as its driver hastily corrected the carriage, the act having been more sudden than severe.

I feel the wind pressure here, Arthur noted, the golden locks of his hair billowing in the wind as he strode along the roof towards the front of the carriage, something that had been lacking when he had stood on the steps earlier, to think a Divine Protection could negate that of all things…

An individual clad in green came into view as he crossed the final few steps to the front of the carriage, before dropping himself onto the spacious bench at the front that was large enough to allow both himself and the merchant ample space.

As expected, his utterly unexpected arrival at the front caused the merchant, Otto, to nearly jump out of his clothes as he registered the sudden appearance of another next to him.

"How in the hell!" He angrily sputtered as he made eye contact with Arthur before rapidly realizing who was sitting next to him, as he corrected his posture and his voice adopted a more friendly, if still questioning, cadence, "Why are you next to me, how are you next to me!?"

"It's rather simple," Arthur responded, glad to finally have something to do rather than simply stare at the passing scenery, "I came out of the carriage door."

"You came out of the door?!" Otto repeated, staring at him in disbelief, the act of piloting the carriage all but abandoned as the reins went limp in his hands. "Why would you do that? you can't just walk out of a moving carriage."

"Ah," Arthur blanched, fully aware Otto wouldn't understand his actions given his lackluster reason, while the act of moving to the front of a speeding carriage might seem normal to him it would be utterly unfathomable to the ordinary person. "I just couldn't stay trapped in the carriage alone, it needed some fresh air and something to distract me."

Otto stared at him for a moment before readjusting his grip on the reins and returning his gaze to the road, for a moment Arthur thought the merchant was going to label him as insane and refuse to acknowledge him but after a moment he spoke, his words lighter and infinitely more understanding than he expected.

"I… I can understand that," Otto spoke, before glancing at Arthur out of the corner of his vision, "Not leaving a moving carriage mind you, but I can at least understand the sentiment behind it."

"Oh," Arthur spoke, a smile appearing on his face as Otto spoke his unadulterated thoughts, "I have to admit that I'm surprised how brazen you are speaking to me."

"Sorry, I'm still a little in shock that you appeared next to me, it wasn't really something I expected," Otto laughed, his expression turning somber as his eyes momentarily grew unfocused and hazy, "I might grow to regret it later but, given your words I figure you'd appreciate having someone to talk to."

"True, nothing good would come if you had to temper your words while speaking to me, I've had enough fake pleasantries and people bowing to my will based on the glow of an insignia."

His words seemed to stun the merchant for a second before a curious look erupted on his face.

"You're really not like the other candidates, are you?"

The question was sudden, and not the one that he had expected.

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, well," Otto murmured for a moment before he regained his confidence, "I can't say the other Royal Candidates would have been as honest as you, adding what you did during the day of red rain, it's just hard to view you as royalty."

"Ah, I'm sorry." Arthur blinked, unable to formulate a better response.

"No that's not what I meant!" Otto hurried, seeing the look on Arthur's face, "Ugh, I've always been terrible with words, I just meant to say that you come across as someone more down to earth, not constrained by the title you carry."

"Is that really down you see me," Arthur questioned, finishing the statement internally, I feel the exact opposite.

"Not many people who weren't knights would have thrown themselves into a fight against an assassin with a body count that is likely in the hundreds."

"Likely thousands now, due to my actions."

"It would have been thousands anyway if no one ever attempted to curtail it." Otto refuted, his gaze directly aimlessly across the plains in front of them, the soft rumble of the carriage cutting through the momentary silence.

"Listen," Otto started again, drawing his gaze, "I'm a merchant, I haven't been in any significant fights in my life, I deal in numbers, not blood, so these words might be callous coming from me, but you shouldn't blame yourself for the deaths in the capital."

Arthur couldn't suppress the scoff at his words, the irritation he felt seeping into his words, "So those who lost a friend, a family member, in the tragedy shouldn't direct their ire at me, the one whose order directly caused the event?"

"No, nobody should," Otto strongly reiterated, combating all of Arthur's bitterness with his own resolution, "The Bowel Hunter has killed many, and would continue to do so if she isn't stopped, you knew this and attempted to end her reign of terror, she might have bested you and caused untold amounts of damage but your intent was noble, and your faith shouldn't waver."

"After all," He continued, "If we let this tragedy bind us, what will we allow her to do next?"

The emotional part of him, still steeped in self-anger wanted to refute the merchants' words, but the more rational side of him knew the words of the ashen-haired man were logical.

The mood dipped the longer Arthur took to respond, Otto kept his gaze locked straight ahead fearing his words had crossed the line with the candidate next to him.

Yet all that was wiped away as Arthur sighed drawing his gaze, "I can't argue against that last thought, perhaps you should have been a candidate instead."

It was meant as a joke but given the way the man stuttered; he must have thought the former king had been completely serious.

"Me? What no- I couldn't possibly have been-"

"Relax," Arthur laughed, glad for a reprieve from the somber conversation they had been having, "You mentioned earlier you'd simply be willing to talk to me, so let's shelf this conversation for another time, why don't you tell me about yourself?"

From the instant Otto responded time seemed to blur as the two of them spoke at length about various inane things about the merchant's life, their respective social positions all but forgotten as the carriage deftly made it's way to the Mathers domain.

"I suppose that just about does it," Otto spoke, finishing his latest tale just as a large manor finally loomed in the distance, its visage just barely visible in the little amount of light still present at twilight.

The journey had taken nearly two complete days with some change, they stopped in a few small villages of little renown, just moments ago they crossed through the small town of Arlem, its village having largely retired for the night leaving only a pittance of life visible as they crossed.

"It's too bad we arrived just as it was getting dark, it would probably have looked much more intimidating in the light."

"I don't know what you're talking about, it's plenty intimidating enough."

True to his words, the merchant was undoubtedly tenser than normally, appearing more how Arthur had expected him to treat him than he had.

"I'm sure it will be fine, who knows maybe you get to make some good connections here, can't have bad luck all the time." Arthur quipped, showing no mercy when bringing up bad memories for the merchant.

"Don't say that!" Otto hissed in response, not willing to tempt fate further.

Silence stretched for a while, the mansion now only a few hundred meters in front of them, before Arthur broke the silence for a final time.

"Otto," he spoke, drawing the gaze of the merchant, "Please don't feel the need to talk to me formally after this, it's been... enjoyable having someone speak so candidly to me."

Even Reinhard hadn't been able to speak to him like this, not that Arthur expected him to immediately, he was still a Knight, and he was all too familiar with how hard it was to get rid of the formalities knighthood ingrained in them.

"Alright," Otto huffed after a moment of contemplation, "but I'm keeping appearances in front of others, I do have an image to uphold."

"I have no qualms with that."

The wooden wheels creaked as they began to slow, passing through the ornate front yawn before stopping at the apex of a circular roundabout.

The entire manor rested on a raised foundation, meaning instead of being greeted by a doorway the carriage instead stopped in front of a large staircase that led to the foundation.

"Look alive," Arthur whispered to his companion, easily being able to make out two figures that were stationed at the bottom of the staircase.

"What are you-" Otto began before Arthur dismounted in a single movement, gracefully landing beside the carriage, only a few short meters from the pair.

"Good evening," Arthur spoke calmly to the pair, stopping a smirk from erupting on his face as he heard Otto hastily dismounting from the carriage behind him.

In front of him stood two nearly identical figures, each wearing an identical uniform, the black and white fabric following a largely uniform color scheme. Long white stockings gave way to ornate black shoes, and the largely black dress was punctuated with a white front and accents, along with a largely white collar. It was, in all essence, the same stereotypical maid uniform that had been present in the small jaunt into the future he had experienced.

On the surface, what was most striking about the two was that the only noticeable physical difference between the two was their contrasting hair color and eye, one shared a similar shade of light blue between her iris and hair, while the other had a similar light shade of pink.

However, that was only the surface, and while he might be far from a mage, years of hardship had ingrained in him the faint ability to sense magical energy. It was far from the precise measurement typically afforded to him by Merlin, but in instances where he could compare two vastly different magical signatures it proved to be more than a simple gimmick.

One of the two, her light pink hair almost appearing as a dark red in the fading light, seemed to be a palpable void compared to the energy that seemed to naturally flow off her twin, it wasn't that the pink-haired girl didn't have mana at all, it was just that it was leagues from that of her twin.

"Welcome to Lord Roswaal's manor, Lord Pendragon." The two of them bowed in unison, their voices melding into a singular cadence.

"I'm happy to be here," Arthur responded, fixing them with what he hoped was a charming smile, "I assume your lord waits inside?"

"He does," The pink-haired maid responded, her face expressionless.

"Is this man your retainer?" Her twin continued, gesturing to Otto, who stood a few steps behind Arthur to his right.

"What me? No, I-" Otto stuttered, displaying none of the charisma of the man next to him, who hastily intervened.

"You could say he is, in a sense, it might very well be a little crass of me but I would appreciate if your lord would extent his benevolence to him as well."

The words were ornate and flowed from his mouth unhindered, the pompous dialogue and refined manner of speaking being too heavily engrained in his psyche to have deteriorated since his time walking the halls of Camelot.

The pink maid's brow rose slightly at his words, before turning to her twin, a silent conversation seeming to take place between the two in an instant.

"Rem here will take your retainer to his room." The pink-haired maid respond, as the blue-haired maid, Rem, bowed low, "Don't worry about your carriage, it would be our pleasure to unload it after we've shown you to your respective destinations."

"That's very kind of you," Arthur spoke, fighting the urge to bow, it wouldn't look good for him to bow before a maid, even if their actions went above and beyond what he expected.

"Otto," Arthur spoke, turning to the grey-haired merchant, his colorful green attire muted in the dwindling twilight, could you Felt, Margrave Mathers was already made aware of her presence, I'm sure a suitable room has been prepared."

It twisted his heart to leave the young girl, but perhaps despite his better judgment he trusted the merchant Reinhard had found, the past few days serving to reinforce the view he had of the man in his mind, and while he didn't wish to thrust Felt's responsibility onto the man it was the best option he had, no harm would befall her at this manor and it wouldn't do to keep its lord waiting longer into the night.

"Absolutely, Lord Pendragon," Otto spoke, the formal tone jarring at first as he was unused to it coming from the young man who quickly broke into a small bow, years of court etiquette allowing Arthur to see every mistake the merchant made yet finding himself appreciating each one.

"Very well," Arthur nodded, before gesturing to the pink maid, "After you."

As they took off towards the large manor, he could hear Otto opening the carriage behind him, and if the grunts of exertion he could hear were anything to go by, him retrieving Felt before following Rem.

As they walked, the only audible sound was his boots lightly clicking against the polished stone that served as a path leading to the manor, stopping only as they crossed through the opulent entrance as stone gave way to wooden floors. Ornate designs painted the walls and every few feet there stood another object displayed prominently in a case or upon a shelf, and they must have passed tens of rooms before they came upon their destination, a magnificent double door proudly flying the kingdom's standard, next to which sat another crest, emblazoned by women clutching a singular book, one that he could only assume was Roswaals own.

Without a single hint of strain, the maid opened the large set of doors, allowing Arthur to walk in unimpeded as the door shut behind him as the maid shuffled in front of him, before speaking with a bow.

"Lord Roswaal, I've brought the guest as requested."

Sat before them, was the man of the house himself, the elaborate get-up that he had been wearing during their first meeting once again prominently displayed in the man's attire and the elaborate face paint he wore.

It didn't bother him, after a point in his life he just accepted the part of being a mage was displaying some… peculiarities.

"Exceeeeelent Ram," the spoke, elongating his words, before gesturing at Arthur to join him, "You are dismisssssssed, feel free to take a seeeeat Lord Pendragon."

It seemed as if the maids even shared a common naming theme, as Ram again game a low bow before retreating from the rooming, leaving the two occupants in silence as he lowered himself into the opulent chair.

The room he found himself in was undoubtedly a meeting hall of some sort, having enough space to house a grand table enough to seat a dozen individuals, but currently, it housed only Roswaal and himself, seated directly across from each other. Smaller tables sat in the corners of the room, and a bookshelf took up a large part of another corner, its shelves undoubtedly filled with all the information that could be needed during a meeting with other members of the nobility.

With a glint in his eye, Roswaal broke the silence in the room first, a wide smile appearing on his face.

"We have much to discuss," the lord spoke, his typical accent nothing but dropped, "wouldn't you agree?"

For but a moment, the manor around them seemed to be less and less of the prized home of a margrave, and more of a den belonging to a lurking viper, who finally found its chance to strike.