Disclaimer: As always, I can't claim credit for the wonderful world of the Fate franchise because all characters, places and references are the copyright of Type Moon and Gen Urobuchi, and everything else is simply a figment and work of my imagination.

Utopia

Chapter 1 - Pride

It was the sudden crunching of leaves underneath his boot that gave them away.

Raising its head in alarm, the stag paused momentarily as its eyes flickered from right to left; almost as if the animal could smell predators lying in wait. The moon's gentle rays bathed its majestic snow-white fur in a silvery cloak, illuminating it with a faintly ethereal glow. Despite the night air being completely still, save for some neighbouring crickets, the graceful mammal clearly decided that its drinking hole was no longer a safe refuge; darting away into the safety of the forest's shadowy depths in a matter of seconds.

Instantly, he let loose a string of arrows at the fast-retreating deer. But by virtue of its swiftness or sheer luck, the animal managed to evade them all.

Raising his bow in pursuit, he was about to fire another round of projectiles before a firm grip wrapped around his arm. "Let him go free, Gilgamesh."

The golden-haired king let out a disbelieving snort. "We have not stayed hidden at this very spot for 7 days and 7 nights only to have our target elude capture as soon as it is spotted. Who knows when we may ever see it again!" He made to stand up, dusting his golden-plated armour and boots that were both stained with flecks of the forest's earth. The stag could not have gone far, he could still hear the faint sound of its hooves thundering no more than a few metres away.

Looking at his companion's impatience, Enkidu merely let out a chuckle. "Ah, that may be true," he smiled, scanning the shadowy darkness carefully for a glimpse of white. "But Gil, aren't some things the most beautiful simply because they are unattainable?"

Pausing momentarily to digest his words, Gilgamesh raised his head to the starry sky. A storm was coming; he could smell it in the wind, making it likely that the thunderous rains would wash away all traces of their quarry's scent. With only a selected few of Heaven's chosen ever being lucky enough in their lifetime to check a glimpse of the divine animal, there was no telling if their pursuit of The Great White Stag of Mesopotamian Divinity would ever come to fruition, or simply remain another legend to be told around the embers of a fire.

Catching a flash of brilliance at the corner of his eye, the Babylonian ruler nodded as he signalled to Enkidu to head northwards back to Uruk. Giving a last glance back, he murmured, "Your resilience is splendid – never let it tarnish."

Pride was a beautiful thing.

Gilgamesh had ruled a mighty empire spanning almost a quarter of the Ancient World, commanded armies with as many soldiers as there were grains of sand in a desert and amassed so many of the world's finest treasures that he had long ago stopped caring to count. His people had sang songs, fashioned his likeness into clay and marble and immortalised his exploits in poems carved onto stone tablets so that the mongrels may continue to know his name throughout the ages.

He had been exalted as the greatest King that Babylon or the world would ever see again. Part human, part god; Gilgamesh would forever be revered as the alpha, the first, and the supreme Hero and King of the world.

And yet, even his greatness had not been without marring. He had received both the praises of his subjects and the damning of the Gods, tasted the headiest heights of pleasure this life had to offer and languished into the deepest abysses of suffering.

Enkidu.

Yet, Gilgamesh was proud.

He may have admitted defeat in his failure to save Enkidu from the wretched gods and later, in his quest for immortality. He had lamented in utter despair as his only sworn friend had returned to the dust and clay he had come from and watched in fury as the snake had swallowed the elixir of immortality he had come so desperately close to having.

But Gilgamesh was proud still; of the life he had led, the kingdom that had once been his and the glory his reign had shone on his subjects. To deny his worth would be equivalent to denying that the sky was blue – the rejection of a reality.

Nonetheless, here stood that foolish girl spouting nonsense about how she desired the Holy Grail as a means of changing her country's fate and rewriting history.

In other words, the legendary King Arthur; undefeated King of Knights and one of the greatest heroes ever to lead Britain – was ashamed of her kingship. She wished to undo the wrongs of her reign and allow someone else to take the throne of Britain; all in a bid to undo the destruction her homeland had eventually succumbed to.

It seemed unthinkable to Gilgamesh that anyone would ever desire to do so.

Despite her idealistic, foolish utterances, Saber did not strike him as anyone devoid of pride. She spoke of pride in her lifetime of devotion and service to Britain. She spoke passionately, even reverently about the need to sacrifice herself for the sake of her country and people. Despite being relatively short of stature, she stood as tall and proud as any warrior, wearing her badge of pride and chivalry on her proverbial sleeve.

Then, Rider ripped her to shreds.

Gilgamesh tolerated, maybe even respected Rider, just a little. It was difficult not to be infected by his larger than life persona, although the golden Archer would never care to admit it. While his philosophy was stupid, the Babylonian ruler could appreciate the pure and noble love of conquest that he boasted of. Where Gilgamesh had loved to rule, Rider had loved to conquer. Where Archer had sought to dominate, his fellow king had sought to win. Iskandar loved and led his people by example; by being the greediest, the loudest and the biggest dreamer of all.

Two different, yet related sides of a coin.

Gilgamesh would make sure he personally put an end to the King of Conqueror's foolish dream; after all, delusion of such scale by an otherwise admirable figure deserved to be struck down on nothing more than the grandest of stages.

But for now, there were more amusing matters at hand.

"You saved them, but you never led them. You never showed them what a king should be. You abandoned your men when they lost their way. Then, alone and untroubled, you followed your own petty little ideals.

Thus, you are no true king. You are only a little girl, enraptured by a false idol of the king who serves others, but not themselves."

Her face crumpled at Iskandar's words, twisting into a glorious mess of shock and humiliation. Ah Rider, to have the gall to actually deny Britain's greatest King to her face and shatter the very pedestal she believed she had stood on her entire life…

Why, he hadn't laughed so hard in centuries.

"What's so funny, Archer?" she spat, the venom in her voice clearly meant to disguise the hurt and humiliation the little king was surely feeling right now.

Training his gaze slowly over those enchanting green eyes, he curled his lips into one of his signature smirks. "Your face…it's just like that of a virgin deflowered in bed." Taking delight in how her brows furrowed in consternation at the innuendo behind his comment, he deliberately let a lecherous note enter his next words, "Exactly what I like."

Laughing once again at her predictably disgusted reaction, he settled down to watch the two mongrel pretenders (he would not acknowledge them as true kings) engage in the remainder of their verbal sparring. Though he had to admit that as irritating as her naivety was, the King of Knights stirred something in his breast and it wasn't entirely to do with her pure, virginal beauty. Perhaps it was her steadfast commitment to upholding her ideals even to her death, or the pure, self-sacrificial spirit of nobility she embodied; which made watching Rider strip her of every inch of her illusions, beliefs and pride all the more enjoyable.

He almost felt sorry for her.

Yes, Gilgamesh could not deny his growing fascination with the blonde Saber-class Servant.

Sadly, those detestable Servants belonging to Kirei decided to make an appearance at that very moment; no doubt on Tokiomi's orders, that mongrel. His uninspiring Master was beginning to form an annoying habit of interrupting the fun just as it was reaching its climax.

Gilgamesh felt a slight twinge of satisfaction when Rider materialised Ionian Hetairoi, watching impassively as the Assasins were swept away as if they were nothing more than the sands of the desert under which the great armies of Alexander the Great stood upon. So he had been right in guessing that the blathering old fool had more up his sleeve than met the eye. This truly would be a fitting stage to showcase the absolute power of Ea and bring a final end to his magnificent yet foolish dream.

"All dreams must end when the dreamer wakes," he murmured, watching the last of the Assasins disappear as Rider's Reality Marble dissolved and gave way to the starry skies of the real world again. Next to him, Saber had remained silent throughout the one-sided obliteration of the Assasins. "Wait, Rider," she called hesitantly as the scarlet-robed Servant sheathed his sword again, lamenting the lack of entertainment his opponents had provided. "I'm not done yet." She held out her hand apologetically.

To his amusement, the elder king only stared down at Saber with a clear look of disappointment on his face. "You would do well to keep silent, girl. Tonight's banquet was meant to be a conversation among kings…but I no longer acknowledge you as a king, Saber."

The female knight was so shell-shocked by that final, damning snub as Rider rolled off in that ridiculous contraption of his that she forgot that the Golden King was still standing beside her. But though she clenched and unclenched her fist furiously again and again with her jaw so tense it looked like it was about to snap, she stood firm.

Was Saber naïve in her utmost conviction that the Grail could grant her dearest wish of undoing Britain's destruction?

No question about that.

On top of that, was Saber completely deluded by her self-sacrificial martyrdom that in some ways was every bit as selfish as Rider's brand of tyranny during his reign?

Oh, the Babylonian King certainly thought so.

In her own way, she was an even bigger fool than Rider for wanting as well as believing that by erasing the marks she had made on history's books, she could somehow change the course of fate her country was destined to fall to.

But yet, she did not move to lie, deny or regret the ideals that Iskandar had just denounced. Like a golden flower, the gentle blossom belied a steely strength that continued to shine throughout the darkness of confusion and doubt she was surely battling against. Pride borne from such desires too lofty to be borne by any human…such a fall would be spectacular.

Gilgamesh had to admit, he was enraptured.

"You need not listen to him, Saber."

That got her attention. Noting the small sound of surprise that escaped the blonde woman, he continued. "Follow the path you believe in. The agony and conflict you wallow in as you bear the burden of a kingship too heavy for anyone else..." his smirk grew again. "...it really is a pleasure to see."

Predictably, her eyebrows knitted together in undisguised anger as she realised he wasn't offering her any soothing words of comfort. Gilgamesh chuckled internally. She really had the most adorable reactions, particularly to him; it was as if every word that came out of his mouth was guaranteed a frown or grimace across that lovely face. He couldn't wait to see how much more of him she could take before cracking or exploding and her breakdown would surely be a thing of beauty he would make sure to personally savour.

Stretching as he stood up, the Golden King couldn't resist throwing a parting shot at her. "Keep at it, King of Knights." Once again Saber paused, hesitating at his words. "You might actually prove even more worthy of my love."

He couldn't help but let his laughter ring into the night as he dematerialised, imagining that splendid look of fury she must have on her face right now. No doubt she would be cursing his name until she drifted into the land of dreams and shadows, her pride stinging as she replayed his words over and over again in her head.

Until we meet another night, my little lioness.

A/N: This chapter actually turned out to be something like a character analysis of Gil and how his thoughts may have been during that pivotal scene in Fate/Zero. Writing Gil is so enjoyable, simply because that man is so twisted yet interesting in his own right. While I would secretly love a fluffy Gilber story, it was impossible to write one simply because unlike fanfiction Gil, actual F/Z or F/SN UBW Gil is actually well...kind of a jerk.

Reviews and constructive criticism most welcome.