Random rewrite of a benched fic:
The ticking of the clock seems louder at night. Empty halls and the still night air facilitate the sound, carry it far and wide and certainly past the castle walls. But the king pays it no mind. Inside his library, the shuffle of his own pacing drowns out even the persistent ticking noise.
Rumors reached him –distressing ones; if he regrets one thing about his position, it’s the constant influx of troubling news. After the disaster involving Ansem the Wise and his students, he’d hoped things would be calm, at least for a while. They deserve that much –Sora deserves that much.
But the way things stand … rest appears a distant dream. Should the rumors turn out to be true, disaster, of a magnitude seldom seen, is already in the works
Maleficent – while evil and power hungry –always had respected certain boundaries. The Organization – though callous and destructive –had done the same. To everyone who knew about them, the Borderland Worlds had been off limits. They are a double edged sword: well-intentioned, but highly explosive, as Good and Bad of epic proportions collide regularly.
There was danger in involving them in the war and so they were kept out of it by unwritten, unspoken rule. Merely for security purposes Merlin and Yen Sid had contacted selected individuals – years and years ago – to ensure their help in keeping the war a secret, even while it was happening on their doorstep.
But now – … Now the border have been breached. Someone, or something, has entered neutral territory and drawn all eyes towards their biggest, barely kept secret. He doesn’t know how it could have happened. He merely suspects. But his suspicions are dark ones.
Still, there was is need to panic yet.
They have no plan, no way to organize themselves; they share an idea, a hunger, that is all. But even that much is frightening. Enough, in any case, to pull Sora from his well deserved retirement. The poor boy probably expected it already. Some things truly are too good to be true.
It is fortunate that their keyblade bearers are all in one place now. While the king still worries for them individually (Kairi’s abilities are nearly non-existent and Riku’s darkness will never entirely leave him), they will be ok as long as they are together.
And there’s he, after all, to support them and … pull some strings. Play some cards. Put the knights in check while someone else captures the queen. That’ll have to be enough. It will be. They are good kids – strong, determined; he’s not the only one that can play a good game.
And as for the opening move, he has some letters to write
“Your Highness, urgent mail for you!”
The soldier nearly falls over his own feet as he bursts through the door without knocking. “Your Highness, my apologies! This came not five minutes ago!”
He kneels to the ground and raisees a letter above his head. It’s slightly battered and made from strange parchment, but the seal is one she easily recognizes. “Thank you,” she humms. “Please call for the Captain; we will have to discuss new security measures around the town gates. I will be with you shortly.”
“Jiraya-samaaa ~! Not even a drink this time?”
Grey eyebrows waggle at the beautiful woman. “My sincerest apologies, sweet Megumi-chan! You know how it is – super famous authors are always on the run. But maybe I can spare a few minutes for my favorite fan …?” The older man wraps an arm around the giggling girl and they stroll down the street. Megumi’s ‘friends’ twitter and wave at them as they pass by. The girl leans her head against his shoulder and bats her eyes innocently. “That’s what I like to hear,” she coos. Only when they turn a corner off the main street, she pulls a meticulously folded piece of paper out of her cleavage and boffs it against his chest. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
The fireplace comes alive with a muted roar, drowning out the chink chink of a pot of tea making itself. “So this is … real?”
“Quite so, my dear. I am still undecided whether this is a blessing in disguise or not.” Albus Dumbledore regards the letter with pensive eyes. “Tom will certainly benefit from this development. But maybe, so will we. Minerva, be so good and fetch me an owl, will you? I will have to make some arrangements for Mr. Potter.”
And so the King’s letters find their intended recipients. Or at least, most of them.
“So he’s already begging for help, huh? And to think we haven’t even started yet.”
There is a giggle from behind him, and small, childish fingers swipe the two letters out of his hand. “Well, I guess he’s getting old, isn’t he? I heard he’s gotten into the habit of sending child soldiers in his place now.”
“Do you know what ‘irony’ is?” “Pah! I’m far superior to these –“
Again the letters change hands, this time a little more gently. “Now, now. Let’s not get cocky. Child soldiers, who still managed to wipe out a few big players. So let’s take this seriously.” Three pairs of eyes turn towards her, some more serious than others. “I’ll be keeping these – “she tucks the letters into her vest – “and you lot, behave. After all, we’ve got work to do.”
