Queen of Spades

Hello lovely readers! Welcome to Legacy of the King, my humble retelling of Harry Potter if Arthur had a bit more prevalence in the wizarding world. Kara is not perfect but she's mine and I love her.

I have bits and pieces of lore dragged from different fanfics that I used.

Notable influences-

-Core Threads

-Harry Potter and the Rise of the Protector

-The Intelligent Potter

This chapter is very info-dumpy and I apologize but this is the groundwork for what I've added. Think of this as an overview of Kara to this point.

Enjoy!

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Kara stared down at the ornate chest resting on her bed. She gently unclasped the lock and opened the old wooden lid to look down upon 6 beautiful, but simple weapons.

All of them were Faery made, thus had an aura to them, an aura more visible to Kara than most. Kara gingerly lifted the largest blade from the box. Excalibur was hers today by right of conquest, she had finally bested her instructor in single combat the day before. So many possibilities ran through her mind when grasping the ancient hilt, power thrumming through her. This sword held a legacy Kara only hoped she could amount to, but when she had it in her hands, she felt she could take on the world.

Breaking out of her reverie, she looked at the other weapons. Clarent, the sword of rulers, was shorter than Excalibur's bastard sword length, but still just as beautiful, if not more so. Rhongomyniad, Uther Pendragon's spear enchanted by many throughout the years, gleamed gold in the calm light of her room. Carnwennan, Arthur's dagger, laid perpendicular to Clarent, holding its own in the battle of majesty the swords and spear seemed to be fighting.

There were also two weapons that did not belong to her but would instead lie with her siblings. Moraltach, the answerer, would go to her brother, Alex. Then there was Fragarach, the death blade, that would be bestowed upon her sister, Nimnue. Neither blade was English but had been sized from Ireland by one of the ministers at some point, and she felt mildly guilty knowing that there were parts of her inheritance as future Queen were...less than stellar. The swords were Celtic to the core and won through conquest. But those actions were not hers and the blade's legacies would be honored with her beloved siblings.

She then looked at what lay beside the chest...what she dreaded. A letter from one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengoment, Sorcerer, Order of Merlin first class, and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter invited her to Hogwarts as a diplomatic ward of the British Ministry of Magic while Avalon sorted out what to do with their 7 magical children in the new generation.

The Wizard, a man brought in by Merlin to train her before they knew she would be going to the Scottish school, had been gleeful when she received the letter, which scared the hell out of her.

Kara hated wizards. Magic had always been the worst part of her admittedly brutal training as princess for the last 11 years. Avalon had a time dilation when compared to the normal world, meaning Kara's 11-year-old self was mentally closer to 16 now, and they had abused that in every regard. She had been put through hell by that man every day. The first thing he had pounded into her mind in a time that felt so long ago now, was occlumency. She had been so excited then, to learn magic. The next thing had been utility spells and basic cleansing rituals. Then her training as a future Queen and Knight began. Occlumency had been a ploy to cram as much information into her head as possible. The joy of learning magic soon turned to horror as she spent 13 hours every day for years in a row being beaten physically and mentally.

Martial arts, war strategy, history, normal school subjects, sword practice (though she didn't mind that one.), and by far worst of all, magic. About halfway through the rituals and surgeries began. Little muscle enhancements here, reinforcement rituals there. They had taken her eyes when she was 8, giving her magically constructed ones in their place. At 9 they had given her a dragon's heart, specifically a Hebridean Black. The Wizard was behind it all. Though in the end, the occlumency he had forced upon her had been a blessing. She only had to go through a lesson once, meaning if she got herself far enough ahead the training became easier to bear. Enchanting and Alchemy had always come to her though, which made many hours easier.

All of it was to help her, she knew that, but once she was coronated she would stop at nothing to make him pay.

But all that would not prepare her for a school of wizards. She didn't blame children, not at all, but a school had teachers, had a board, had a community. She knew her opinion was a little biased but she found their entire society unimaginably dumb. But she was the Heir to Arthur Pendragon, she would not falter.

The Queen of Spades was the lovely nickname her siblings and Cousins had given her, she had a fondness for black and they made fun of it at first, but it ended up fitting her. She had painted her armor, shield, and pendant black to honor the title. Those pieces The Wizard had enchanted with her and called the process 'bonding'. She was good with enchanting, incredibly so in fact. She figured it wasn't the worst specialty to have when dealing with armies. Avalon had certainly kept up its armies through the last thousand years, publicly they were a private military company now, very few outsiders knowing about the hidden nation's true existence, taking contracts with the US and Britain. That wouldn't matter for some time though.