Worthy
"Do you see over there? In the direction of the waterways?"
The dry ground stretched towards the horizon, a tan canvas flecked with green splotches and etches of blue. Beneath the building - grandiose by the time's standards - smaller and more simple structures stood in every direction, with an abundance of citizens darting to and from each. Men carried bundles of barley, stacks of produce, and blocks of stone as they trudged across the city. A group of women carried pots of water through the center of town, small children in tow. Oxen bearing loaded carts pushed through the streets, carrying important wares. A potter sat just below a nearby neighboring building, clay dried on every finger as he gave shape to his latest product. Young boys grappled in the alleyways as they honed their aggression and muscles for future labor and battle. The bustling people were the lifeblood pulsing through the veins of Uruk, the city itself a heart that throbbed as heartily as that of a robust man's.
And at the head of the circulatory system, the mind that reaped life from the heart and also ruled over it with absolute power, Gilgamesh took stance with his feet planted apart and his shoulders thrust back. He stood at the edge of the platform, the top of the tallest structure in Uruk, with the city sprawling outward as far as his vision permitted. One strong arm, bare except for a polished gold gauntlet that decorated his wrist, stretched out over the edge towards the eastern edge of the city. As a light rush of wind sent his cloth tunic fluttering, the king took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of the city, a composite of tilled soil and animal musk and wet clay. A smirk unfurled on his face, but the movement of his lips left his eyes untouched. Peering beneath golden bangs, his eyes were two pools of blood with a slit pupil that pierced across the city, wide and glimmering in the light. He did not tear them from the land, even as his companion replied.
"Yes, I see."
Gilgamesh withdrew his hand and placed in on his hip, cocking his head as he explained, "That's a major section of agriculture for the city. You'll see a lot of carts travel to and from there, since it's so suitable for agriculture. A large portion of Uruk's citizens earn their livelihood from there, especially the peasants. The river way out that direction also connects with the canals around the city. Also important, the best wine in the region is created out in that area. As king, I automatically receive a percentage of the wine produced, but I can take more if desired. Anything here is for my taking. And yours, if you request it from me."
"I am certain your subjects produce only the finest food and drink, Gilgamesh."
The voice beside Uruk's king rang with a quiet strength, the lift of each note making every sentence a small melody.
"Of course. I accept nothing less from my possessions. And before I forget - you see there, off to the left of that large building? Where those boys are fighting? That is where most of our festivals are held. We have at least one a month, and they are vastly pleasurable. You and I will attend the next one soon. I will be entertained to see how you find the festivities."
"I am sure the sight will bring you amusement, my king."
At last, Gilgamesh turned his snake-like gaze to his friend, a frown tugging his lips. Next to him, the newly-humanized Enkidu stood, just a few inches shorter than the king. The man wore a single white cloth that wrapped around his whole body like a dress, the concealment of his slender body adding to his womanly appearance. Most feminine, of course, was the mass of green hair that tumbled downward over his shoulders, down his back, framing his perfectly crafted face. Currently, Enkidu's pale eyes lifted upward towards Gilgamesh's face, showing no qualms about staring directly into the royal man's red eyes. Enkidu's eyes were not just blank in color, but also devoid of emotion, reflecting only one singular theme - a clean and steady reverence. Not the sort of awe paid to a king, however. It was the reverence given to a statue, to a temple building, to the sun that swelled in the sky. It was the reverence that spoke of acknowledgement and acceptance of greatness to an abstract, but without worship for its receiver.
Gilgamesh noted this all upon first glance. Then, he asked, "What is it? You have been quiet throughout this."
The two had been on the platform nearly an hour, the entirety of the time dominated by Gilgamesh pointing out different areas of the town and explaining life within Uruk. As Enkidu had just entered the village a couple days past, he took it upon himself to equip the man with knowledge. He would not let anyone else be the man's guide.
Enkidu's stare remained unwavering. "It is nothing. I was just observing you, is all. You are a most interesting sight, my Gilgamesh."
An gleam shone across Gilgamesh's eyes as he looked down at Enkidu. He took enjoyment in everything the new man had to say, every word or thought a source of pleasure. No one else in the city compared to this character he'd found just days ago. That did not mean, of course, that he agreed with everything the man had to say. No, that would be dull, unexciting. It was the contrary that made the man's speech cause for anticipation.
"Oh? Why do you say that?" He asked.
Enkidu tilted his head. Just the slight movement made his tangled locks sway. "Kingship suits you. You don't wear your right to rule as a garment, or like the gold around your neck. It's as much a part of you as are your fingers or legs or the hair on your head." He said.
Gilgamesh considered the observation, his expression unchanging as he continued with another question. "Of course. Any less and I would not be able to call myself king. But what is it that prompted the thought?"
"The way you described every portion of the city. The pride and excitement in your voice as you showed off your land. It's not born of love for the people or care for the actual prosperity of Uruk. It's the respect you only have for yourself, Gilgamesh. And for you, this city is part of that. No, I'm wrong. Your ownership of the city is part of that." Enkidu answered.
Gilgamesh, who should have grinned at the compliment, instead caught the undercurrent of Enkidu's voice and kept a serious expression. "You do not say that as if it is a positive thing, Enkidu." He commented.
At the accusation, of a suspicion that alone would prove fatal for any other of Gilgamesh's subjects, Enkidu did not bat an eye. "That's true. Because you are comfortable in ruling, you use your power with immorality. Your treatment of Uruk's brides has stopped, but your other abusive actions have not."
A grin spread across Gilgamesh's face as the speech progressed. At the end, he threw back his head and laughed, a boisterous sound rich with amusement and derision, but free for once of malice. When he finished his fit of laughter, the king looked down at Enkidu with a smirk in place and narrowed eyes. "Immorality? The tamed beast speaks to me of immorality?"
"I do." Was Enkidu's simple affirmation.
"You do not cease to amuse me, Enkidu."
"It does not diminish what I said before, though. The kingship itself - that is most apt on you."
Gilgamesh reached out and clamped a tight hand on his companion's shoulder. "You will never reach it, of course. The level that I am on. The ideal kingship you admire me for reaching in part, but scorn me for not fulfilling to your morality. It's mine by the right of the gods, but you'll never have it." He stated.
"That will not stop me from trying, Gilgamesh."
Moving his hand, the taller man rested his palm now on the pale cheek of his new partner, cradling the man's face. The skin felt soft beneath his fingers, smooth and natural to a point where it bordered on seeming fake. He smiled, and for an instant, his reptilian eyes relaxed.
"I would not wish you to. It is your striving in the face of failure, that struggle and loyalty to what you cannot hope to touch, that makes you so beautiful, my Enkidu." He said.
Enkidu covered Gilgamesh's hand with his own. "My king. I am glad to have found you to stand by. I am glad Shamhat brought me to your companionship. I could recognize no one but you as my king. As my friend."
"And I could recognize no one but you as my companion. You stand with me as an equal, as strong in body and spirit as I. And yet, you will never stand on my level as a ruler. You will never be on the level of the gods, as I am. Tell me, does that make you suffer?" Gilgamesh asked, knowing full well the answer.
"Yes. But I am not angry for that fact. Because it keeps me in your company. And because you are the only one I'd be willing to lose to in that regard." Enkidu said.
"Then we are well-fated. Because neither of us will move from our current states. I will rule forever, and you shall stay by my side in beautiful struggle for all our lives," Gilgamesh proclaimed with a laugh. He wrapped his fingers around Enkidu's so that they intertwined.
"Yes. I imagine you could rule this whole country if it so pleased you, Gilgamesh."
"Oh? Do you now?"
"Yes. I imagine you could rule the whole world if you wanted. I think, if I could see you in that moment, you would look quite glorious. I'd like to see that."
Gilgamesh's hand gripped his companion's tighter, an unconscious display of strength. At last, he turned away from the other man to stare back out towards Uruk's horizon. His hand dropped, so that it fell between the two of them, still holding Enkidu's hand.
"Your idealistic attitude is amusing. But you'll see it, my Enkidu. I should do it if only to see your eyes in that moment. If only to see that same reverence multiplied. Because it is beautiful, and therefore I must make it mine. So look, Enkidu! Look at all that lays before us and imagine the many lands in the distance. It's mine to take. And it's yours. Nothing could be more worthy."
"Nothing, my Gilgamesh. Nothing but us, the world, and your kingship. I cannot imagine anything else more beautiful."
"Then it will be yours. By my word, Enkidu. It will be yours."
It will be yours.
The wind whipped around the skyscraper, a biting cold that attacked the figure of the solitary man standing on the building's roof, only to glance off the man's flesh unaffected. As the wind flew between the city's structures, it whistled and howled like an animal, drowning out the mechanical roar of distant vehicles and the muffled chatter of the people milling about below. Clusters of men and women wandered without any apparent aim, loitering around the glaring lights of city stores and parks, dropping trash upon the sidewalk. In the alleyways, crimes went on in full exposure - prostitutes bearing worn and weathered flesh, young men flashing illegal pharmaceuticals to jumpy customers, masked thugs holding weapons up to unwitting tourists for spare change - all willfully ignored by anyone who passed by. The wind that whipped by carried on it the putrid odor of trash, of sewer, of the rank sweat of people packed together.
Gilgamesh stood at the top of the skyscraper, the tallest in Fuyuki city, his arms folded across his chest. He was clad in a fashionable attire suited for the modern day, albeit ostentatious. He'd traded the traditional tunic for black leathers and thin shirts, but he'd appeared just as flamboyant in cloth garb as he did in the pricey new fashions. His presence had not declined any in the years that passed. Even his eyes, narrowed down at the city below, were as youthfully arrogant as when he'd ruled over all the known world. He scoffed at the sight beneath him.
"Not this." He said. "This is not worthy of either of us."
Gilgamesh glanced to his side, as if expecting his companion to appear there, standing beside him once more. But there was only the cluster of buildings in the distance, the harsh glare of the city lights. The wind's howling was the only response he received.
Gilgamesh had never been as beautiful to Enkidu as when he was ruling over the land, as when he was showing his ownership, his divine kingship, over every piece of civilization he touched. But this filth did not deserve his authority. It would only tarnish his crown. It would only muddy his treasury.
"I will exercise my kingship again, Enkidu. For you. I will make this world worthy so that I may do that. So that you can look at me, and so that you may find joy in my rule."
As his words were met with silence once more, Gilgamesh turned his back on the city and stared at the ground. The ugliness of the modern world did not deserve even to stand in the center of his gaze. He closed his eyes, and he thought of Enkidu.
Kingship suits you.
But this world did not suit either of them. Did not match up to either of their greatness.
He shut his eyes tighter and thought of the holy grail, of the war that had brought him back to this earth as a human incarnate, of Kotomine Kirei and the shelter and the amusement he'd provided, of Saber and how he'd loved her as a female substitute for the partner he'd lost. Finally, his blood-red eyes shot open, glaring at a distant spot in the sky as if he laid curse to some force unseen. And in a harsh whisper, he made his promise.
"It will be ours again, Enkidu. And I will make it worthy. I swear it."