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I Reincarnated As My Waifu, What Do? 24
🕑 Added 2023-03-09 03:09:51 +0000 UTCFather and I fought under the watchful eye of the gods. This was no battle of man, but of two kings vying for the same throne.
The Gods' favor was our very weapon, and we clashed against each other, testing not only our mettle, but the divine providence which guided our path forward.
And it was becoming obvious to me that the favor the gods bestowed upon father was not quite as heavy as the power of his fist. His sword clashed with mine, and even though I parried the blow properly, the same way I had learned to parry the head of the royal guards' blows, I had to push my body to its limits just to match his speed, his strength and his ferocity.
And then he punched me in the face.
Before I even realized what was happening he was coming for a vertical cut that would end this battle, but I could not allow it, I rolled out of the way - when had I hit the ground!? - and launched into a cartwheel to dodge the horizontal follow up, landing in a crouch that allowed me to put my sword in position for a forward thrust, though father merely sidestepped it, it gave me an opening to use the tactics that I had learned from the brawlers and thugs in my employ.
As I passed in front of him, I returned the punch he had given me earlier, punching his groin with all my strength. Testament to his strength, it was closer to punching a wall, but he still doubled over.
My feet planted on the ground and I twisted to slash at his midsection, but he moved his sword to cut my slash short, and forcing me to step back with his gigantic weapon's size doing most of the work.
As I leaped back to avoid his weapon, Father planted his sword on the ground and groaned in pain. "Noireee," he cried in a slightly higher pitch than his usual rumbling bass, "whyyyy!"
"There's no honor in battle, father, only victory or defeat!" I responded, jumping on the balls of my feet, spitting out a glob of blood from the split lip he'd given me earlier.
"You could've just told me you didn't want any siblings!" father complained, shaking his shoulders a little as he rose back to his full height. He brought his sword forward, and grasped it in both hands.
I could feel the pressure in the air grow even heavier, as if the wind was cowering from him.
He grunted, and with the whooshing noise of hurricane force winds, he moved towards me, looking almost as if the distance between us had simply vanished. I bent almost ninety degrees, and just barely managed to avoid his attack, but it left him overextended, which I capitalized on by grabbing my own sword with both hands, and executing an opposite slash, rising to the right, where he had slashed down and to my left.
Or at least, I tried, I was interrupted as soon as I put my hands on my weapon's handle.
Father continued moving forward and simply tackled me, though our size difference came in handy, as he had a hard time grabbing hold of me and I was able to sneak out of his grip, his efforts to pin me were in vain, as instead, he landed on the ground, on his back, and I on top of him, with my sword poking at his throat.
It was, undoubtedly, my victory.
Not from strength.
Not from skill.
Not from luck, even.
At the end of the day...
"It's not about the size, it's how you use it," I spoke, laughing. "You're too used to fighting people your own size, father."
Father closed his eyes.
"That's the truth, isn't it? Right in front of my eyes. You've grown up a lot, Noire..." he sighed. "It's my defeat. My total defeat," he said.
"You didn't adapt to your opponent," I said, and after a few moments, my sword faded into golden sparkles, as did father's. It was decided. The gods had witnessed our battle. I had come out the victor.
Father chuckled. "I'm proud of you, Noire... I didn't want you to see your father like this," he said. "But you're right. I'm not perfect, I'm a warrior, I know my limits. The gods favor you... you're way better fit to be the ruler of Trom than I am..."
I got off of his chest, and helped him get up, though it was a bit humorous looking as he towered above me and we were almost face to face as he sat up. Okay, maybe it's not that extreme, but still, he makes me feel inadequate! You don't know the struggle of not being able to reach the tall shelves, father!
Father dusted himself off. "All that remains is legal procedures."
"So that's the succession rite?" I asked. "You just... duel your successor and whoever wins is King?"
"Yes? No?" he responded, scratching the back of his neck. "This is just to confirm that you're worthy!" he said. "I still legally have to abdicate the throne and all that stuff. Also you're going to need a husband."
"It's okay," I said, waving my hand, "I already planned for this. I'll take Cousin Ruy as my wife," I said, "no complaints on the bloodline and social standing, right?"
"I don't think anybody will think twice about it -wait, wife?"
"Yes- say, father, you don't think you're just going to retire after this, right? It's time to reinstate the Thunderbolt General to his post," she said.
Father chuckled. "I'm an old man now, Noire, I could not lead the troops as I used to," he said. "Besides, we're at peace."
"Father, father, father," I chuckled, shaking my head. "You didn't think that the civil and social upheaval coursing through our country wouldn't result in some powerhungry warhawk trying to pick at our sides, did you?"
"The fact that I did think that is why you're a better fit than me for the throne," Father pointed out. "I'll serve my country if it needs me," he said, "but I don't think we're ready to fight a war."
I nodded. "Not yet. First we have to hunt down all the rats, and put down the inevitable last ditch attempt at destroying our country from within... and then," I said, looking at the sky, "and then we start the new age of Trom..."
"What are you thinking of, Noire? What's in our future?" Father asked. His face was of curiosity, but I also spied some element of surprise.
I couldn't entirely blame him. After all, he was dealing with a lot. The daughter he loved had turned out to be a carefully constructed façade. I'd say he's coping with the situation fairly well, all things considered, especially considering he, probably the strongest man in all of Trom, had just lost one on one against me, and lost his throne as well. In a challenge he... issued...
"Father, did you-"
He raised his hand as if to forestall my words. "Noire... I can't say that I am an apostle of the gods. I can't tell you that I'm a saint who receives guidance and revelation," he explained.
"What's that about?" I asked. "What are you talking about? Father?"
"I guess it's about time I tell you about your mother," he said. "The truth, I mean. It's going to be a bit of a long story."
I sighed, closed my eyes, and cast my attention to my people, as they kept moving. This would take a while. Hours, in fact, before I had to interfere directly. Micromanaging too much could be more harmful than productive.
"Well, we have time. And I don't think anybody's going to interrupt us here. So... father, why don't we spend today together? We haven't done anything like this in a while, and I'm pretty sure you won't want to show your face outside until things have settled and we have something concrete to tell the people."
He chuckled, closing his eyes. "Alright," he said, sitting cross legged on the ground. His huge hands grabbed me, picked me up, and sat me on his lap, in much the same way as he used to do when I was small enough to sit on his hand and have space left over.
It made me feel a little nostalgic, and I relaxed for the first time in a long, long time.
"Right... let's start at the beginning. The first time I met your mother, I had just finished wrestling a Sabertooth Lion to death and was taking a dip in the river to clean myself, only to find her doing much the same. It was love at first sight," he said. "It's also how I learned your mother was a size queen."
"Father!" I shouted, "too much information!"
"Oh, if that's enough to get you to blush, girl, then hold on to your pants, because your mother was a wild one!"
Father would spend quite a bit of time telling me about how he met mother, and more importantly, the events that would lead to my birth... with a little bit too much detail, I'll say. Yes, yes, I know.
Me, of all people, getting queasy and uncomfortable, but I really didn't need to know that, dad!
It was... nice.
A welcome break. Things were in motion. Things I had in no way planned for.
I knew this was the last time I could ever be a little girl who felt safe in the arms of her father, to forget that I'm a grown adult and just... indulge in this safety and warmth that almost made me forget I got myself into this mess in the first place.
Alas, even good things must come to an end.
Father told me then, about the Nun that spoke as mother struggled with the pains of childbirth, that would eventually claim her life, calling me a gift from the gods, saying that my future would be one of chaos, and that I would decide the fate of this country.
At the time, father had thought it empty platitudes.
Nowadays, he admitted he was beginning to think it might've been prophecy.
He didn't know the truth of it all, and to be honest, even I'm not sure anymore.
As father spoke fondly of mother, speaking more and more about her, going off on a tangent, I wondered to myself.
What are your plans for me, goddess?
As I left my father's grip, and we walked together towards destiny, I left the childish urge behind, and faced the future.
Nothing else matters. I'm here to protect and serve my kingdom, my people and my family. Whatever happens, I'll face it all, and keep my head held up.
"Ah, I suppose I should put you in contact with your aunt to begin preparing for your wedding," he said. "Good luck with that."
Oh.
Ooooooh.
Fuck me that's going to be terrible.
But Ruy's going to look so cute in a wedding dress, I can't wait! Keep your eye on the goal, Noire! First, bring the country to peace, erradicate the corruption at the root and begin modernizing it!
Then, and only then, can you focus on biting into that juicy peach of an ass and making that cute boi into a proper slutty wife!
I couldn't help it, maniacal laughter burst from the innermost part of me.
"I'm starting to wonder if I miiiiight have made a terrible mistake here," father spoke with a chuckle.
I grinned. "No takebacks," I spoke, turning to him with a wink. "Welcome to the future, old man!"
He laughed. I laughed.
I wouldn't be laughing, pretty soon. Goddamn, inheriting a crown is so much WORK!
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Benjamin Lawton
[maniacal cackling intensifies]
