Credits/Disclaimers: The story is developed by me, everything else belongs to their respective creators. Image Credit: Google Search. See below for more details.

Transcend

The storm outside was finally calming down. But their hearts were beating at a volume loud enough to drown out all reminders of the external world. Too close. They were standing too close and both of them were still reeling from the kiss. Arturia was, admittedly, more flustered and worked up, and be that as it may, Gilgamesh did not intend to stop at only one kiss.

The room was darkening now, they had not turned the lights on yet. Conversation about the Grail – about how he could have lost her - his fears, about how her life was never a priority - her convictions - had led to heated moments and passion had overtaken what usually tempted arguments. He had stood tall over her, towering, trying to intimidate – impressing upon her that he was right: he could not afford to lose her, and she had pushed back just as vehemently – answering him in fervour, that her life was never a priority.

And when his lips were a little too close to hers; they had both given in. Who was the first? It had not mattered and it still did not. It was a full, open mouthed, prolonged kiss that had quite literally taken their breaths away. But she had been the first to pull away...his touch alone was enough to set fire to her skin. His lips did unspeakable things to her.

Just because she had pulled away, in no way, implied that he was ready to let go. And when his lips felt cool air replacing her soft, pliant, heated ones, he groaned unhappily, only to snake his palms around her head and bury his fingers in her chignon. Slowly unraveling it, as he drew in closer to her, lips hovering predatorily over her own kiss-stung ones. She looked up into his eyes and in a rare moment, emerald on ruby seemed to unite in a haze of passion and something more that both of them were afraid to name.

Love is a heavy word, after all. Even heavier to sink into and far, far onerous to honour.

That haze pulled them closer than they estimated to be possible, and once again his lips were over hers in abandoned desire. Somewhat urgently and quite wishfully. She struggled out of it again almost coming undone, like her hair. Her excuse to keep him at bay came in shortened breaths, "You have taken enough of my breath away for one day."

She looked absolutely lovely. Flushed in his emotions and bathed in want.

He smirked widely at her tiny utterance. Oh, she was so wonderful, so beautiful and so very much his. His fond reply was nothing but another confession, "Just returning the favour of what you do to me constantly." And with that he immediately went to nuzzle her nose with his. She had begun to give in to this unknown, unseen force as well.

His lips cajoled hers again and his hands eventually found the clips that were keeping her armour in place and a few clicks later, her defenses were falling to the ground with loud, reverberating clangs, while her lips remained connected to Gilgamesh's fleetingly and eyes fluttered between open and close because he was akin to an addiction, it seemed.

When she was covered in nothing more than her thin dress, hair splayed against the wall to which he had herded and pressed her, his criminal lips detached from her lips and sidled up by her ear, nibbling softly. Insistently. Till he drew out a breathy moan and a whispered prayer of his name, "Gilgamesh..."

That was it. For all the work he had put in to make her think of nothing but him, one call from her was enough to unwind him. And that was not fair. It deserved punishment. He pressed his lips harder into her ear and promised, "Only me. You will think of nothing else tonight. I promise. Nothing else." And she shivered, quite unabashedly and violently, at that promise. The hand in her hair escaped to cradle her neck as he positioned her face to kiss her lips again and the other one found one of her hands to bring it up to his chest. He broke the kiss and looked at her.

It took her a while to open her eyes so that she could furiously convey to him that he was not allowed to stop kissing her anytime soon. But when she did open her eyes, she realised that he was gazing at her solemnly while his hand clasped hers on his armour. She looked at their joined palms and then back into his eyes. It was permission and the right to touch him. He was giving all of himself to her, just like she had when she had accepted his touch. He wanted her to feel him physically, the way he was sensing her. Skin on skin. Breath against breath. Voices entwined.

She fixed her large emerald eyes on him – determined and possessive. And undid the first clip on his armour, unfastening the secure material from his upper body. Leaning up, she whispered against his lips, "Only me." With that she closed the gap and kissed him, for the first time initiating it.

Gilgamesh tried his best to keep his hand out of the way while Arturia undressed him, but the minute his armour fell off, she was tightly situated in his protective embrace again. She chuckled lightly at him and held him in return. Her hands made quick work of his shirt which had string-ties at the back. They separated a little for her to be able to pull the shirt off him, her lips parted and breathing turned laboured when she finally discarded the material and ran her soft hands over his skin. Pale and yet a monument of history. He watched her with apprehension and admiration as she let her eyes and fingers alike, rove over him, drinking in his appearance, learning him and imprinting it in her mind. He was all hers. In every way. With every secret.

His skin may have been pale and smooth, but the scattering of scars still remained from times immemorial. Her thin fingers mapped each one before slowly, teasingly reaching his collarbones where she stopped and peered into his eyes. Somehow all the heated kisses they had shared, all of the passionate claiming of each other from mere moments ago and every desperate grasp they had made at each other seemed to settle into a warmth around them, encasing them in a world of their own. She was prodding him to answer her unspoken question with one hand supporting his back and the other on his cheek, cupping it. What was this?

Not that it was difficult to guess or provide a reply, but he knew that it was important for him to convey the supposed answers. It is strange what love can do to people, it is strange how spoken language is only an extra option when two people, much like Gilgamesh and Arturia, decide to absorb each other so completely and so honestly, that a look is enough to relate a lifetime of stories.

So, he replied, in the form of an earnest look. She understood. He was the first Hero after all, and as perfect as he may appear to be, he still had scars.

Arturia cupped his cheek a little tighter to bring his forehead down to hers. And with eyes downcast, she reminded him that she could erase these marks beyond a shadow of their existence. His hand reached to pluck hers from his face and he kissed every finger starting with the smallest, "You are good to me. Too good to me. But these symbols must stay for they are my foundation. They have made me the Great Spirit I am today. The man I am today."

"A man I love." She added, looking up.

His kissing concluded, he matched her gaze, lips still on her index finger. Without breaking the locked eyes, he tentatively dipped his tongue out to lick the tip of her finger and she inhaled sharply at the sensation. Eyes darting between his gaze and his enchanting lips. Encouraged only more, he devoured the small, slender finger tip suckling on it. Arturia's breathing fastened, chest heaving and all she could do was watch him mark her as his. Possessively.

Before she completely lost her mind, she decided to pull her hand away, earning a smirk from him and if it were possible, another advance from him. She was already attached to him, she could possibly not escape; he did not really need to trap her in, but Gilgamesh liked being close to her. Very close.

The hand she had snatched away, reached behind his neck and their eyes found each other again. Her other arm slid down his back, before abruptly stopping at a scar near his waist. The sensation was not smooth, this was a new scar. Eyes reflecting concern and half-formed questions, she moved to break free of his hold and look at him. His hand was still by her neck and his grip strengthened to hold her in place. Which was all the indication she needed to surmise that he was trying to hide something.

And his eyes were unable to hide anything from her anyway. Slowly, but surely he relented. Grasp lightening. She did not try to see the scar again but just waited for him. He leaned down enough to set his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, "I have one scar that I dislike. It is the biggest regret of my life."

Arturia's hold on his neck tensed. He continued, "I received this from that unworthy cup while I failed to protect you from it's affects." It still troubled him that he had almost lost her to that filthy, lowly object. The only manner of protection he had been able to think of, at last had been shielding her with his body and a small scar was very little payment for having her in his arms today, but he had almost failed. When it came to her, the slightest of uncertainties clawed at his emotions and tore his composure. His brows were beginning to knit and Arturia nudged back with her forehead.

She was smiling as they parted and her hand had left the back of his neck. He did not like the new formed distance. She was going to have to stop taking herself away from him if she did not want him moulded around her for the rest of the night.

Which would probably happen, anyway.

Her hands settled on top of her own breast, eyes closing, and a blunt golden glow enveloping her, alerted him to what she was doing. While Avalon came forth, the lack of distance between them proved to be insufficient enough for Gilgamesh to question her intentions and small enough for Arturia to instill the shield inside him swiftly.

The hand still on the fresh scar, gently palmed his waist and her efforts came into full effect as the scar disappeared. He watched her open her eyes and understand the blatant question in his eyes. Why.

"I do not like to see you hurting in any way." That was all the assurance he needed, all the confession to know how much she truly cared for him. How much he could not do without her.

Her hands were on his chest again, resting on the smattering of old transgressions upon his body. Her presence was the glory of his existence. He picked it up, leaning his face into it and pressed small kisses on to the inside of her hand and placed it on his cheek.

But she immediately caught his hand which was well on it's way to extracting Avalon, with a warning that came laced with love, "You are to hold onto it. I want to protect what is most precious to me."

Gilgamesh looked at her in slight disbelief and slight awe. She was trusting her strongest Noble Phantasm to him. The only person who could possibly hurt her, now also had her strongest defence. This was not trust, this was not love, this was something that existed only between him and her and mere words, a mere small length of time such as life – were not enough to describe, to learn, to understand what he shared with her. There was a reason why he had been forced into servitude to the likes of Tokiomi or Kirei, there was a reason why he had remained by her side for all these years and there was a reason why she was always intriguing to him – from the smallest smiles to largest swings of her sword. It was always meant to be. They were always meant to be. Even a lifetime in separated realms had not been able to keep them away. And the realisation took root in Gilgamesh's heart in a manner he knew was only possible because she was present. Because it was her. Because it was them.

Overcome by emotion, he displayed his love in the only manner that seemed right, by holding her so close to him, hugging her so strongly that neither of them could remember where one ended and the other began. By burying his face in her neck, by letting her see him, feel him, in a state where he would never have allowed anyone else – where he could never allow anyone else. The erratic beating of his heart, the emanating fear and doubts, the ingredients to his dissolution were all only open for her to see and hold. They were each other's now. And for eternity to come.

He had held her like that for a while and then began trailing butterfly kisses along her neck, upto her jawline. She had not protested and only encouraged him with the mewls and moans from the back of her throat. And she was beginning to call out his name in that husky voice again, that made him want to do nothing but ensnare her with him for hours. A thought, that would very certainly earn a scowl from his beloved.

He kissed her on the underside of her jawline and nibbled at the skin there. She was not going to sit quietly and let him do what he pleased. Her hands proceeded to shake free to plant themselves around his neck, but in that very opportune moment, Gilgamesh caught one of her wrists and swiftly turned her around, pressing her front against the wall. The contrast of temperatures of her warm body that had been in his care until recently and the cold wall made her hiss out his name, "Gilgamesh!"

If he wanted a war, he would have one. A merciless one.

She was immediately pulled back into his embrace, set against his body with her back to him. One of his arms settled on her stomach and the other one right beneath her breasts. She was still barricaded from him via that thin under-dress she wore with her armour, but the energy radiating from him was burning through and melting her into him. His lips had descended on the sides of her neck yet again and he seemed to be murmuring something, "I did not mean to discomfort you, my love. But it is only proper that I pay equal and deserving attention to every inch of you. I shouldn't be able to forgive myself for any neglect."

His nibbling and suckling and kissing were enough to send her thoughts haywire, but his talking made her explode on the inside. They had not gone any farther than kissing and she was still clothed, but she was perfectly aware of the fact that every fibre of her being, from her core to the end of the strands of each hair on her body were thrumming with nothing but Gilgamesh.

His ministrations were taking force with each passing moment and one of Arturia's hands had shot up to support his head while his lips and teeth assaulted her neck with wanted attention. The other came to rest upon the hand that was lying atop her stomach, fingers entwining. She pushed back into his body and craned her neck sideways to grant him more access which he happily took and leaned in deeper to bite down, a little harshly, closer to her collarbone. She was a little sensitive there and the slight pain somehow, somewhere gave birth to more pleasure. Belatedly she realised what it was that he was trying to do.

This man was so childishly possessive. He was trying his best to leave love bites. She would have to remember to return the favour - through all this distraction. Which had currently taken the form of his hand that was situated right under her breasts, tightening to take jabs at the offending piece of fabric that still dared to cover her from him. With little difficulty, she managed to turn around in his arms, to face him. He was definitely unhappy at having been interrupted on his mission but a kiss from her silenced him.

He returned the kiss with the full blinding force of his passion. The passion of a King, the passion of a Hero, under the effect of which Arturia found herself drowning in him. She would have shielded herself against this force, but the way he adhered to her, left little room for any other requirements. For all his invasion, he was her fortress as well. The thought itself made her succumb to him a little more. She broke away panting and realising, perhaps for the first time, that her love for him transcended anything and everything she could name.

He seemed to read her eyes and leaned in quickly to kiss her forehead with a subtle, "I give you my everything. Everything."

And that was that.

The next minute his lips were on her collar bone again, swiftly sliding down slender neck, slithering down between the valley of her breasts. Her dress was rapidly being dismembered and scraps of clothing met the ground at an alarming speed as Gilgamesh refused to be separated from her for a moment longer than had passed. He pressed her back to the wall and knelt down to rain kisses on her stomach and leave as many marks on her waist as possible. His hands were still attacking the remaining clothing on her body. And her hands buried in his hair. Her eyes closed on their own. Her head settled against the wall for support and his name, punctuated with only her gasps, poured forth from her mouth.

And as his teasing lips and scratching teeth and soft, soft tongue descended closer to her core, she had to put her hands against a wall to not give way to the melting of her knees. How could he have such influence over her. If it were only her body, she would be able to compartmentalise it, but her heart too. That was...that was...too complicated of a thought process for her at the moment.

Her breath stilted in her throat when his tantalizing mouth found her. And the moments after that, Arturia could not do much more than focus on her breathing and concentrate on not sliding down the wall. She called to him with every inhalation and somewhere between his name and his lips, between her shaky, uncontrolled desire and his active efforts of invading her, the world collapsed around them.

And it felt like forever, before she spotted his lips on her stomach again, slowly guiding him up.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck once more; kissing her. She leaned down her head on his shoulder as well and bit down on his collarbone, only to be rewarded with a hiss, "Arturia!"

She detached from his skin only long enough to supply a simple reply, "I intend to have my way as well, my King."

My King.

Goodness! This woman. He had referred to her as his Queen numerous times only to see her blush mildly and smile shyly at him. But this new title that he had received – of being hers – her King – this was the one glory that would have sufficed his entire life, he felt. He knew.

Her lips were too soft and too gentle against his war-weathered skin, but her assaults were nothing short of the calibre expected of a King. It made his chest swell up in pride and giddy happiness to know that she wanted to claim him just as much as he wanted to claim her. It was so natural and pure to abandon all pretense in front of this woman, so effortless to bare himself for her to see and do as she pleased, so rejuvenating to be this free and so relaxing to be this loved. It was one thing to know that he loved her, it was magic to feel her love coursing through him – mind and body, heart and soul.

Her hands were pushing him away in bits and pieces, for her to make way down his chest - nibbling and scratching. She gave back equivalent to what she received, and that made Gilgamesh smile. His hands caressed her bare back and eventually settled on her hips. Her playfulness emerged with more volume and strength as she cascaded down to his navel and let her tongue peek out.

He shivered at that, all barriers inside him crumbling down and immediately pulled her up and against that ever-present wall behind her. Fire in his eyes, breath coming in short, he almost glared at her. To which she simply smiled – a mischievous, taunting and engaging smile. He pinned her hands above her head and laced his fingers with hers. They pored into each other's eyes with emotions ranging from passion to hunger, from demand to submission, from love to lust and from everything to more. Breaking that lock seemed to be a thought of insanity.

But moments crept along and slowly, painfully slowly, he positioned his hands behind her back. In the following few seconds he had her in his arms, hurriedly making his way to the bed, only to softly deposit her on it.

The bed was more comfortable, after all. While she caught her breath, he shed his remaining clothing in record time in a haste to be by her again. She slid upwards on the bed and he stalked her, on all fours, till his arms caged her in.

The last thing Arturia remembered was his predatory smirk, intense eyes and immense strength that enveloped her while she gave back the equal amount of power in holding him close to her – demanding his attention, intention and affection; as his lips descended on hers and remained there through all the sweet nothings and whispered promises that they shared for the rest of the eve.

She woke up when she felt the beating of his heart change rhythm. He was on his back and her head was on his chest. She loved that. To be able to hear him like that. One of his hands was cocooning her just like she was draped all over him.

He saw her awaken and proceeded to turn and embrace her, which turned to willing imprisonment. Neither of them wanted to leave each other's persistent cradling, anyway.

They lay like that for what seemed like forever, waiting for dawn to break, hearing the first birdsong outside their window. Not speaking, not moving. Just breathing together, for each other and reveling in the comfort and silence.

Words were unnecessary.

Love is a heavy word, after all. Even heavier to sink into and far, far onerous to honour.

But what they had was not mere love.

It was far more than that. It was far wider than that. It was far deeper than that. It was far stronger than that.

It was a responsibility, a possibility, a dream, a path and many more things to come. It was intrinsic to their existence now.

Befitting two kings. Befitting two immortal souls. Befitting Arturia and Gilgamesh.

A/N: This is somewhat based on KitsuneMiyuKendraHyuuga's A Different Fate but not completely compliant with her story or cannon. There was a discussion regarding Arturia entrusting Avalon to Gilgamesh...and this happened. Enjoy, dear readers!