When Gilgamesh had first seen her, in the palace of the vessel after his defeat of Heracles, he nearly didn't recognize her. But then she'd opened her smart mouth, and it had all come flooding back. Really, wearing those pigtails after all these years, it was a wonder he hadn't recognized her immediately.

She'd gone and grown up – she was a woman now, not that little pig-tailed girl who'd snuck into her father's house to threaten Gilgamesh into making sure her father didn't die, and running off before Gilgamesh had recovered from the shock of a little girl threatening him.

And here she was again, threatening – not him, she was old enough now that she knew she didn't stand a chance – but his master.

Smart girl.

However, when the Faker had taken her, and Gilgamesh and his master had confronted them in the attic, the girl hadn't shown even the slightest recognition.

And that, Gilgamesh decided, simply could not stand – to forget his glorious form, what kind of woman did that?

And so, when the Faker was on his way to confront the mongrel, and Gilgamesh's own master was making his way towards the castle, Gilgamesh appeared before the girl – he briefly considered appearing in his armour, so she might fully appreciate his majesty, but decided against it.

And she had looked up from where she had been struggling against her bonds, and glared.

Gilgamesh smirked – he liked a little fire in his women.

"What are you doing here?" She finally spat out, resuming her struggles against the rope.

"You've grown up." He ignored her venom, his smirk widening.

She paused in her work, glancing up at him, her gaze thoughtful. He watched, pleased as he finally saw recognition begin to dawn in her dark eyes – and as it transformed into homicidal rage.

"You!" She snarled, throwing herself against her bonds so viciously the chair skidded forward.

He grinned, pleased that she'd had such a strong reaction – only natural, considering it was he.

"I was disappointed you didn't recognize me sooner."

"My father is dead because of you!" Her eyes flashed as she threw herself against the ropes again, seemingly determined to attack him bodily.

"Your father is dead because he was a weak little fool." He stated blandly – after all, it was no surprise; everyone outside of his glorious self were weak little fools. Only those who served to entertain him would he deign to let live – And it seemed this girl fit the bill.

She snarled again, seemingly enraged beyond the ability to form a coherent sentence. He smirked, calmly standing before her her, his hands in his pockets – the man who was entirely at fault for her father's death – waiting for her to calm down.

Finally, she did, and she sat, glaring at him – at him, the King! He would have to punish her for the impudence later – her chest heaving with the effort of her exertion.

"Now then." He withdrew his hands from his pockets, and took a step closer to the bound girl. Placing a finely groomed hand under her chin, he forced her to look at him, despite her struggles against him. "When one is graced to be in my presence from childhood, one should remember it." His grip harshened, and his grin widened, "I'm going to make sure this does not happen again."

He slid a leg between her knees, despite her struggles, despite her protests, and her breath hitched in panic as she realized what he intended.

"All women in my kingdom belong to me." He said – so close now she could smell him - "And it is only right they should service their king."

He grinned again, a feral thing, his eyes roving over her appraising, like a piece of meat.

"Archer – Archer, wait-" She said, more breathily than she would like, the name tasting like ash in her mouth – that was her Archer's name, not this man's, but she never learned his true identity.

He 'hmm'ed softly, nuzzling her hair as a hand crept under her sweater - his hands eerily hot, or was it just that she was cold? - when his other went and gripped her hair, harshly. Tears sprung up in her eyes – whether from pain, or panic, she could say – and her brain kicked into full-scale panic when she felt his lips on her neck and his fingers trace the edge of her bra.

This was actually going to happen – on her best day, she couldn't take on a servant of any caliber by herself, much less him while bound to a chair. She was going to be raped, and lose her virginity, and it was going to be just because she didn't immediately recognize this man she'd met briefly when she was a child.

He chuckled – she could feel his body shake, a strange sensation – and whispered softly in her ear - "Don't worry, woman. I'm very experienced in taking hymens."

She keened – wait, hadn't Shinji called him Gilgamesh? The man who raped and stole the virginity of every woman in his kingdom – and, impossibly, she lost all pretense of her usual calm, her only thought to get away, to somehow break this bonds-

When he stiffened, suddenly, and halted. She could actually feel his lips curve into a frown against her neck, and he let loose a growl of frustration.

He rose, running a hand through his golden hair. Glancing at her, he scowled.

"I'm not done with you."

And he was gone.

She panted, great heaving things, as she fought against the urge to cry. He was gone – but for how long? Would Emiya come for her before that?

She stared at the empty, dusty room, eyes straining anxiously for a glint of gold, hopefully for red – and cursed her powerlessness.

-
End
-

When I started this, I had no idea where I was going with it. I think it shows.

I will note, I got the timeline of UBW a bit mucked when I wrote this. I think I managed to fix it, but if it's still mucked... well, deal with it. *laughs*