The people of Camelot weren't used to bad weather; it was almost as if the city had somehow been spared from it over the past year. So this sudden storm did catch them somewhat by surprise.
Yet, they weren't too concerned, they were slowly starting to learn about all the strange things out in the world, magic and mutants being among those.
And among those, magic and mutants, they had learned about some who could manipulate the weather. One was named Storm, and could indeed make a storm like this happen if rumors were to be believed.
Another was called Rain Caller. She did, in fact, live in Albion and was making a name for herself by coursing rain over fields for a price. She could also ward off rain, so every farmer was more than willing to pay good money for her services.
Most importantly, they had faith in their king. They were sure that even if some mutant or evil witch who attacked at the tournament came back, their king would defend them.
So they just went indoors and waited for the storm to clear.
But while the normal people did that, the same couldn't be said for the countless eyes watching Camelot and Albion. Agencies from around the world were on high alert for anything unnatural happening around Camelot, and as this sudden storm appeared, they were now scrambling to figure out how to react.
And they weren't alone in reacting strongly, inside Camelot itself, the noble legendary knights of the Round Table were also trying to understand the situation, expecting the worst.
Sir Bedivere, the king's loyal assistant, ran through the large castle, looking for his king, hoping that nothing had happened to her, dreading the idea that he had failed to protect her once again.
Sir Lancelot, determined to redeem himself for his past actions, quickly made his way to the throne room. Waiting for his king's command.
There he was soon joined by the other knights.
Sir Gawain arrived next, rain still clinging to his hair. He stepped through the grand archway of the throne room and paused—finding it silent, empty but for Lancelot standing at attention before the throne.
"No word yet?" Gawain asked, his voice a low growl.
Lancelot didn't turn. "None. Bedivere's still searching."
One by one, the others trickled in—Tristan with his bow slung across his back, Kay muttering under his breath about celestial omens, Gareth and Gaheris at his flanks, their eyes flicking constantly toward the windows where the storm raged.
And then came Mordred.
She strode into the room like a blade unsheathed, soaked to the skin but burning with energy. Her boots splashed as she crossed the marble floor, ignoring the others as she stood dead center in the hall and stared at the empty throne.
"She's not here," Mordred said flatly.
"No one knows where she is," Gawain added, his expression grim.
"That's not like her," Tristan muttered, arms crossed.
"She could be investigating the storm," Gareth offered.
"Or stopping it," Kay said with a measure of hopeful defiance.
A silence followed—thick, heavy, almost reverent. All eyes fell on the throne, hoping Arthuria would simply appear.
-----
"My king, what is the cause of this storm?" Galahad couldn't help but ask as he stood by my side as I gazed up at the clouds.
I didn't answer him at first.
Not because I couldn't answer, but because I wasn't sure how I should do it.
I was well aware of the nature of the storm, I could feel the powerful divine aura it gave off. The power to destroy a planet seemed to loom behind them.
Thankfully, there was no malice in it, no will; it was just pure raw power. It was so far away, yet here. it felt like my own Lance, the power to pierce space. The Bifrost was impressive, and there could be no doubt about it.
"A guest is arriving." I finally said. I knew I couldn't hide it, shouldn't hide it.
Galahad frowned. "From where?"
I turned my gaze from the clouds to him, and for a moment I saw the confusion behind his discipline. He was brave—one of my best—but even he didn't yet grasp how big the world had become.
"Not from this world," I said softly. "From beyond the sky, beyond the stars. A realm of gods, much like our own once was."
His expression faltered. "Another realm?"
I nodded. "Asgard."
He tightened the grip on his shield, the great weapon forged from the Round Table. "Are they here for peace? Or war?"
"Peace, this is just Odin's way of warning us, reminding us about the consequences of making an enemy out of him."
"Indeed, it's a powerful move… with such thick clouds, even Gawain will be weakened." He commented as he looked all the more on guard.
And I couldn't blame him. Among my guards, none were better at defending me than Gawain, who was invincible under the sun. Even I would struggle to take him down under the light of noon.
So to cause such a storm… it weakened him a lot, and thereby all of Camelot.
Not that I thought Odin was aware of this. This display wasn't just for me alone. It was for all the forces of Earth, all those in the know. They could sense the message clearly.
Finally, the skies seemed to flash with all the colors of the rainbow, as if a thousand colorful lightning strikes struck all at once. And instantly, I felt a new presence inside Camelot. And just moments later, another wave of light, and a powerful strike hits Camelot, as an immensely heavy object slammed down.
I turned from the storm and motioned for Galahad to follow. "Come. The knights are waiting."
…
"Father! There you are!" Mordred exclaimed the moment I stepped into the room.
The tension in the hall broke, but only slightly. My presence had calmed them, yet the storm still roared beyond the castle walls. Thunder cracked like the voice of a god, and all eyes turned to me—expecting answers.
"I am here," I said, walking past them, claiming my seat on the throne. "I am safe, I had Galahad with me."
Mordred crossed her arms and leaned slightly forward. "Then what was that impact? Something hit Camelot."
I nodded. "Camelot is now hosting a royal guest, a divine guest, Thor, the god of lightning, has arrived." I said, my words a fire onto the oil of tension in the room.
The reaction was immediate.
Tristan's eyes narrowed, Kay cursed under his breath, and Gawain took a step forward, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.
"Thor?" Gawain repeated. "As in… the Norse god? Odin's heir?"
"Aye," I said calmly, though I could feel the tension tighten around me like armor.
My knights were mighty, yet when faced with gods, they couldn't help but be nervous and worried. And I understood them. As a FATE Goddess myself, I knew full well the difference between mortal and divine.
"Thor is here in a… diminished state, no more than a mortal man, sent to earth in exile, to learn the burden of kingship, and the responsibility that often comes with power." I explained.
"Thor is here as a guest; he is not to be harmed, he shall be treated as a guest, and no doubt he will get along with some of you well enough. Though I do not demand that you get along with him, only that he is treated as his status demands." I continued.
The knights exchanged glances, the room still thick with the scent of ozone and unease. No one spoke right away—until Mordred let out a dry huff of amusement.
"Well," she said, arms still crossed, "as long as he doesn't try to flirt with me, I suppose we can get along."
Kay rolled his eyes. "He better not try to flirt with anyone. The last thing we need is divine drama in the court."
Tristan gave a faint smirk. "I wouldn't mind hearing about some divine drama."
"Indeed, the stories would be interesting." Sir Dagonet concurred.
"Sir Agravain, I trust that you will ensure the city guards are aware of the situation. And that public order isn't too disturbed. And find a time to invite our guest for a chat at some point, but do not see him out until he reveals himself."
Agravain, ever composed and efficient, bowed slightly. "It will be done, my king. Discreetly."
"Discretion isn't vital; the truth may come out in time. Just ensure he isn't hurt; he is our guest, and we will take care of him." I emphasized the importance of that.
Agravain gave a second, deeper bow before turning to leave and beginning the necessary arrangements.
The others weren't so easy to deal with. Mordred, in particular, was highly curious about this new divine guest.
And while the others were no less curious, only Mordred dared to speak freely.
"Why here?" she demanded. "Out of all the places on this planet, why would a banished god land in Camelot?"
The question cut through the tension like a blade.
No one interrupted her—not because they hadn't thought it, but because she alone had the fire to say it out loud.
I met her eyes. She was drenched, tense, frustrated—not by fear, but by uncertainty. I knew that feeling well. She hated not knowing who the enemy was. Or if there even was one.
And her question wasn't bad, it was one I, too, had had.
Why would Odin send Thor here? Rather than that random town in the US?
Well, honestly, the question was easy enough to answer. It all came down to the fact that Camelot could give Odin what he wanted, and easily at that.
Thor needed to learn humility, needed to understand leadership.
And here, in Albion, he would be surrounded by knights—true knights, not sycophants or jesters.
Men and women who had lived and died for their oaths.
He would see what loyalty meant. What strength meant. What it meant to serve a kingdom greater than oneself.
And perhaps more importantly, he would see me.
He would see what a king could be, should be.
Seeing another king was far different from seeing his father, he didn't see Odin as a king as much as he saw him as his father.
That made him blind to some things, but with me? He would see a divine king other than his father, and see how many things I shared with him, and how I differed from him.
In the original story, the only reason Thor learned the lesson was because of Loki messing around; without that? It could have taken years, decades to teach him what he needed to be set on the right path.
Yet, there hadn't been anyone better to send him. So Odin could only entrust things to Loki, no doubt having planned everything, because I don't believe Loki could have commanded the Destroyer around, or that it would be so weak for Asgard's ultimate weapon unless he had allowed things to happen that way.
But no, now he did have another option, Camelot, so sending Thor here was a no-brainer.
And if I could get a favor out of it, then I saw no reason to not allow Thor to run around, it wasn't like he was much of a problem.
The only potential problem would be Loki, but while the FATE Loki might have been a powerful god, this one? He was nothing, so I wasn't too worried.
"Alright, that's enough. Go rest. Tomorrow will arrive soon, and I will not have my knights tired." I finally decided to end the conversation.
I could already imagine what tomorrow might bring, and I had to admit, I was looking forward to it; it was for sure gonna be better than my normal day-to-day work.
Honestly, the paperwork was maddening.
Hopefully, Thor and his brother would lighten up my life a little.
(End of chapter)
So, just the night before things take off. Still working on the final plan on how to deal with Thor. I got most of it, but the first meeting… I have a few ideas, but only one will work. So this chapter was really just me drawing things out, giving me a bit of time to figure things out.
But yes, Thor will, and has landed in Camelot, which will allow him to interact plenty with Arthuria and her knights. Might have some POV segments from him and others, rather than just focus on Arthuria.
To give a chance to see how everyone feels about him, and how he feels about the knights. But yes, I got some big plans for Thor and Asgard, so look forward to it.