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Friend, Please (Chapter 7)

Fandom: Kirby/Kirby Right Back At Ya!

Gen | Teen

Characters: Meta Knight, Dark Meta Knight, Velka | Arcta Knight (OC)

Summary: They should be used to desperate people making horrible decisions by now, but somehow it always goes too far before anyone does anything about it. A person fell prey to the empty promises of dark, powerful hearts to become Arcta Knight. As they make their mark on Dreamland, Meta Knight grows anxious about the encroaching danger and leaves suddenly to prepare for a duel like no other.

AO3 | SqWA | Quotev

Tags: AU - Canon Divergence, Blood and Violence, Swordfighting, Original Villain Character, Gijinka Kirby Characters

@ocappreciationtag

(Cover art done by Dean, edited together by me)

Alliance

Meta looked up at the Dimensional Mirror. It stood tall despite the damage. He pressed his palm to the largest intact surface and awaited his doppelganger from the other side. He winced at the wound, the pain creeping over his senses now that the adrenaline was no longer dulling it. He held it, stifling the blood a little.

He felt something grip his hand from the mirror and he returned the grasp. Dark Meta Knight grabbed the frame of the mirror with his free hand and pulled himself out from the narrow portal.

“So that’s her.” Dark dusted the bits of glass off of him, clinging to him from the broken edges of the portal. Meta nodded, putting more pressure over the wound. Dark looked over at him and scoffed.

“I would have killed you.”

“I don’t know why she didn’t.” Meta said, biting back the pain. Dark didn’t respond. He knew less than Meta did, he couldn’t begin to explain it either. Meta Knight stepped past Dark and approached the end of the platform.

“Well, she fled again. We can worry about it after we get the others up to speed.”

“Others?”

“We can’t do anything without a ship.” Meta left it at that, dropping through the clouds. Dark grumbled under his breath, following after him.

Descending from the land in the clouds, Dark and Meta dropped into the eerily silent kingdom of Dreamland. Meta returned to his perch on the balcony, overlooking the empty streets of Cappy Town while Dark perused the throne room behind him.

“A whole kingdom to yourself. Hell of a trade.” Dark said, sitting heavily in Dedede’s large throne. He kicked his feet up over the arm rest. Meta ignored him, looking out for the Lor Starcutter.

Arcta gave him something to reach for. Before knighthood. He didn’t dwell that far back very often. It felt like a mere second in time at this point. He had been fighting for Popstar as long as he could remember. Training and aiding Kirby ever since the little warrior arrived. Serving Dedede far before that.

His days as a trainee weren’t significant. He trained hard. Reached his goal and subsequently left to fight for good. Among the Star Warriors of all creeds. There wasn’t much he could recall from those days. Much less anyone with a harlequin mask.

No… that was far before his own mask.

A sudden pain pierced through him and he sucked sharply on his teeth, gripping his side. He was so distracted he nearly forgot. Meta pulled his cape around him as he walked, several droplets of blood lingering on the balcony where he was.

"You need to start training.” He muttered to Dark as he passed behind the throne. Dark lazily swayed his legs and hummed to feign thought.

“No.”

Meta shook his head, leaving him behind. Extra swords were all he needed. Anyone who could take her on while he had her attention. That was the plan for now. Should she appear again before he has the chance to do something better.

He held his side as he gingerly made his way down the empty halls of the castle. A slow crawl through the once lively space. As he passed the vacant rooms where his soldiers once made home, he turned a somber gaze to the floor. It was merely days since he spoke to them last. Merely weeks since Cappy Town had their last NME catastrophe. Kirby putting a stop to it and learning how to better wield his powers.

He staggered, the pain momentarily slowing his progress.

At the time, he had wondered why it was so quiet. It was a calm before a terrible snowstorm. Meta could feel the ache of sorrow pricking at his throat as the tears started to fill his eyes.

They were all gone. If they hadn’t held her back she might have descended upon the town.

Meta attempted to shake off that thought. He didn’t want to entertain it at all. Once he reached the infirmary, he dug through the cupboards and drawers for bandages, leaning up against the counter and removing his armor to begin dressing the wound. He could feel the blood beginning to soak his garments.

He closed his eyes tightly as another pang radiated up his torso. He lowered his head and groaned as he pressed the wound once more, cleaning it and pressing a thick dressing to it in place of his hand. Sharp curses hissed past his teeth, repeatedly, until the bandages were fastened in place.

For that to be his only wound didn’t sit well with him. Nothing about Arcta did.

-----

Holding his helmet in his hands, Meta sighed. It was marred with scuffs and cuts, the cloudy silver offering a blurry reflection back to him. He looked it over for a moment, sitting alone in the hall just outside the throne room. The sounds of metal on stone rang out ahead, Dark slashing at the stone pillars to hone his skill.

Meta leaned on the wall, rolling his head back against it and allowing the lonely breeze to cross his face. He wasn’t sure he was ready to don his helmet just yet. He had a fair assumption that Dark would cease his practice if Meta joined him. And he wasn’t in the best condition for the kind of sparring he might want. So he remained in the hall.

A much needed break from his mask and title.

He slid down until he sat on the floor, setting his helmet beside him and closing his eyes. Resting a moment while his side still ached. Listening to Dark as he cut into the stone.

-----

A raucous, screeching laughter shattered Meta’s rest, causing him to bolt upright and hiss at the pain the motion brought. He put his helmet back on and carefully stood, pulling his cape tight and taking a breath, smoothing over his nerves.

“Dark. They’ve arrived.”

“I heard. I’m pretty sure the whole planet heard.” Dark grumbled, hauling himself out of his comfortable place on the throne. The walls of the throne room were destroyed. Something to be dealt with later.

The Lor Starcutter rested in the hanger, a star shaped portal closing behind it. It appeared like any sea faring ship, a topsail, a mast, three oars in each side. But it sailed through space and dimensions as easy as any ship could sail the ocean. Meta and Dark approached just as Magolor and Marx disembarked.

“Any word from Halberd?” Meta asked the one in a blue and clockwork cloak. Though their face was hidden, bright cat-like eyes shined from beneath the hood.

“I dipped in this dimension a couple times on the way here. No word.” Magolor said, shaking his head.

“I see… Then we’ll have to split priority. Captain Vul should have sent some update…”

“Doesn’t the kid have some kinda history with you two? Maybe he put them off answering.” Dark suggested, stepping beside Meta. Magolor tilted his head at him, his ears falling to the side as he studied the doppelganger.

“Hm,” he blinked at him, “well, I suppose. But I would assume Meta Knight told them of our little alliance. And, besides, we made amends since then. He’s a forgiving kid.”

“I told you we shoulda tricked him.” Marx giggled, balancing himself on a ball as he rolled up to the conversation.

“He would have just eaten the letter if we put “Open for free food” on it.”

“How’re we sure he didn’t eat it anyway?”

“W— uhm…” Magolor scratched his chin, his ears falling behind his head, “good point.”

“You didn’t try video communication? Halberd is equipped with the hardware.” Meta said, cocking a brow. Their reliance on paper letters was beginning to concern him.

“We attempted actually, but something is blocking the signal. We attempted to reach you as well before we arrived.”

“Yeah! We thought it was just them, but it was you too!”

“What do you mean?” Meta folded his arms and frowned. Marx bounced on his colorful ball, circling the trio as he bounded and laughed. Off in his own world as he often was. His hat jingled and chimed as he playfully pranced.

“What! What indeed! Try calling the Halberd and you’ll see!”

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#battyfics #fanfic #oc #original character #kirby fanfic #kirby #tw blood #tw death #fanfiction #ocappreciation #kirby right back at ya #ao3

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