Disclaimer: The Fate series isn't mine, and the cover is by tama-lynn on DeviantArt.

Epiphany

Her eyes were by far the most fascinating part about her.

They were a deep emerald green, so lovely and clear that they would reflect anything and everything that came within her line of vision. He liked seeing the light of the sun in them, or the stars above. The sight of swords clashing together and blood were very lovely when trapped inside those small worlds of green, too. He especially liked seeing his own face in them. She saw him as a conceited, sickening man- he could tell by the way that her eyes would narrow and her golden eyebrows would arc down at a sharp angle- and thought him greedy, insane- this, he could tell, was from the way that her eyes would shake and tremor the moment he mentioned that she would one day be his own. It was more than just a simple pleasure to see himself the way that she did, and every time he found himself staring at her eyes, so focused on him, Gilgamesh could not help but feel his chest tighten with desire for her.

Another thing he loved watching in her eyes, however, was water. He could stare into her eyes all day, just watching as green moved and swirled around her irises like mist through a crystal ball.

There was only a stream between the two of them. She sat on a log stump, eyes down and watching the waters which moved so fluidly in her eyes. Overhead, there was a canopy of deep green trees that seemed to move aside at just the right angle for sunlight to shine through and reflect off of those green waters with which she saw.

Beautiful.

He stood from his own tree stump and crossed the stream, opting to stand next to her and watch her face, calm and serene, her eyes glowing a dim green akin to that of a light being shone through summer leaves. It was one of those many, strange moments, where he wished for nothing more than to watch her remain as she was, yet, at the very same time, also wanted her face to be in his hands, her eyes locking with his own.

"Arturia."

Slowly, the woman's head lifted, her golden bangs falling back around her face. Her eyes reflected the tree behind his head. "Yes?" The soft tone of her voice, cool and lovely when combined with the lightness of her accent, was nearly suffocating with its pleasurable calmness.

Smiling, he bent down and grasped her soft, delicate hand in his own, delighting in the cool sensation of her skin against his. He watched as her face fell, as did her eyes, which now took to staring at the dead, brown dirt beneath their feet. "Come," he urged her. I desire you now, he almost added.

Arturia's jaw clenched and she slipped her hand from his. "And if I don't want to?"

Gilgamesh's smile widened. He loved it when she played this game. "Then I shall take you by force."

Her eyes shot up to his, green fires bursting from within her irises as she stood, holding herself with pride, despite her diminutive form. "Just try."

A fierce, angry lioness.

He would have nothing less.

His smile was now wide enough to reveal the sharpness of his white canines. With no hesitation at the challenge she had issued, he reached out his hand and grasped onto her hip, running his fingers over the fabric of her dress elatedly. The dress that she wore was of pure white silk, with small straps that perfectly revealed the curve of her neck, and a skirt that flowed in soft waves, ending just above her knees.

As soon as she had felt him groping onto her, she stepped to the side, smacking his hand away with her own. Still, her eyes never wavered in their prideful anger, never tore from his own. As he took a step closer to her, she stood her ground, staring at him ever so defiantly. Only when he was close enough that he could feel her breath on his collar bone did she look uncertain, although only for a moment, before her eyes went back to their raging green.

Her delicate features upturned into a snarl when he cupped her cheek in his hands, and he could not help but laugh aloud at the sight. It was much too amusing; her face appeared to be that of a pug!

"Why must you insist on starving me?" He asked as she tore her face away from his hands, repulsed by his laughter.

She took a step away from him, rocking her arms in front of herself as if it would protect her. "I agreed to marry you; nothing more," she told him. "Marriage doesn't require for one to give in to the other."

"Oh, really?" He mused, eyelids falling over his scarlet irises in enjoyment. "And what would make you say that?"

"I have been married once before," she told him, narrowing her eyes. "And my wife never did any of the things for me which you wish me to do for you."

"Of course," he said, stepping closer to her once again, pleased to see that she stepped back from him. He continued pressing onwards until her back was against a tree, and his body was suddenly caging hers. "But, then again, your marriage wasn't under normal circumstances, was it?"

She looked at him straight in the eyes. He loved how his red mixed so well with her green; it formed such a lovely magenta. "Neither is ours. We are married only by title; this means nothing to me." Her voice was beginning to shake slightly now, but she had the decency to try and hide it by lifting her chin up higher into the air. Such a brave woman.

God, he loved that pride of hers.

He grasped onto her shoulders, digging his thumbs into her pale collar bone. She squirmed a little, pained, and Gilgamesh could not help but take delight in this reaction. He smiled at her, and then leaned down so that his mouth was next to her ear. "But if that's so, then why do you never call me 'husband'?"

Once again, her eyes moved away from his face, so that they were wandering all around, as if trying to look at anything but him. His smile dropped, and he began to push his thumbs even harder. A slight expression of pain formulated on her face, and she looked over to her nearly bare shoulders. Her hands moved to attempt to push him off of her, and he let go of one of her shoulders, only to grasp her chin and pull her head up to face him. "Look at me, woman!" The image of himself in her eyes became that of evil when she stared at him, eyes wide but enraged. Once again, he smiled, pleased with her ferocity, and placed his forehead to hers. "Now call me 'husband'."

"I refuse."

Now he was becoming slightly annoyed.

She shouldn't deny him any longer than she already had.

"I can still go back and kill that child if you continue this stubborn streak."

Her eyes flashed with fear, which in turn sent a jolt of success through his body. He had finally won this round; Arturia wouldn't risk the life of her master, and he knew that fact very well.

That flash of fear, however, disappeared in an instant, and she was left staring at him calmly. She blinked, and he dropped her chin, so that she bowed her head against his chest. "My apologies. Please leave him... Husband..." The words left her mouth sounding bitter, as if she had eaten something that she didn't like, but also held the tone of humiliation. Gilgamesh found great joy in this, for the look of humiliation suited her quite nicely. The anger and worry in her eyes, just barely masked by her conscience, the way her jaw clenched and her teeth ground together... Very lovely, indeed.

She did not rise from her bow, and so he took her shoulders in his hands once more, pushing them back so that she would lift her head. Seeing the defeat on her face was one of the greatest triumphs he had ever felt. He felt need to celebrate, and so he bent his head down and pressed his lips to hers.

He could feel her hands on his chest, little round balls that just managed not to push him away from her. Her lips were soft, unmoving against his own. He found this displeasing, and so he pushed her back harder into the tree trunk which she was leaning on. In response, her mouth opened in a gasp of pain, and he seized the moment, only to find that her hands could no longer resist the urge to be rid of him and pushed against his chest.

He pulled away, disgusted by her reluctance, and she began to spit out onto the ground, equally as disgusted by him.

Damn woman! Why must she always rob him of his pleasures?

She wiped the spit from her mouth and looked up to him, emerald eyes sharp. "You look disappointed."

"Of course. It isn't within your rights to deny my affections."

Something strange seemed to click inside of her eyes. Calmness. Almost a blank stare. "I thought that you liked it when I denied you."

For some reason, he was almost startled by the statement. It could have been that new expression that accompanied it, or it could have been the partial truth behind the words. He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem natural of her to say so... "No." Her head tilted slightly, watching as he answered. "As my wife, you must give me anything I desire."

"And what is it that you desire?"

Once again, that strange feeling of unease overcame him. That empty look in her eyes, that cool tone of voice... Had someone switched her for a clone while he wasn't looking? There was something almost otherworldly about her. Even so, he spoke without the slightest hint of hesitation.

"I desire for the submission of the King of Knights, Arturia Pendragon."

She closed her eyes for a brief moment. A wind blew by during that time, catching her golden hair and the bottom of her dress. As he watched, Gilgamesh realized that the neckline of her dress had become lower than he remembered, so that almost nothing was covered by cloth, as if something was trying to tempt him into to taking her there and then.

Just as he was beginning to stare at the low-cut line of her dress, Arturia's clear green eyes opened.

"Very well, King of Heroes."

Suddenly, the forest disappeared. They were no longer standing under trees, there was no stream nearby, and she was no longer standing in front of him. Instead, he was located in a bedroom. A bed, large and draped with golden silk, stood before him in the dim light of candles that surrounded him, standing on every shelf and open space available. He stared, taken aback by the strange change in scenery.

"Gilgamesh."

He turned to the sound of the voice, and found her standing behind him, her pale, white dress nearly glowing in the soft candle light. She stood silently, unmoving, her golden hair straight and holding an ethereal quality with which he had never seen before. He could see his reflection very clearly through her now vacant eyes.

She began to walk towards him, her legs moving slowly, almost mockingly. The thin straps of her dress fell around her shoulders, finally giving him a clear, unobstructed view of her perfect, pale skin. As if to be in time with the straps, the rest of the dress also began to fall down, the low neckline coming even farther and farther until it was only hanging on the tips of her breasts. Finally, she stopped walking, right in front of him, and let the rest of the dress fall to the ground.

He stared at her naked body, both shocked and awash in a sudden, sharp feeling of lust. The female body was nothing new to him, although it did not go to say that he ever ceased to find it fascinating and pleasurable.

Her arms were around his neck, his around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. This time, when their lips connected, she became more actively involved in their kiss, moving in rhythm with him. Meanwhile, his hands reached out eagerly to touch every exposed part of her body. When he grew bored of her mouth, he moved on to her neck, moving down slowly, savoring the taste of her skin. He could feel her chest moving, rapidly rising and falling against his own, and could hear her moan softly into the quiet of the bedroom.

But something seemed wrong. He wasn't deriving nearly as much pleasure from this as he had expected. Her moans, her body against his... He had always thought that was what he wanted. So why did it not feel as if this was enough?

Frustrated, he pushed her down on the bed and descended upon her, hungry as she began pulling at his clothes.

It felt so very heavenly.

Yet so very meaningless.

Once again, the scene seemed to change around him. Gilgamesh was no longer on the bed, hovering over the naked body of Arturia Pendragon. Instead, he was standing, a small lake before him, aglow in the pale white light of the full moon. Arturia was kneeling beside him, her hair in a braid that wrapped around her head. She wore yet another dress, this one having long white sleeves that fell over her hands and a skirt that flowed down past her feet. The dress was adorned in an intricate gold pattern which appeared almost fluid, like tiny golden stings.

"Come and sit with me."

Her voice rose up unexpectedly, as calm and serene as the lake waters before them. Suspiciously, he looked down at her. "You do not tell me what to do, woman."

She looked up at him with her deep green eyes, apologetic. "Of course, milord. I am sorry."

As he watched her face, so lovely and beautiful in the soft glow of the moon, he suddenly felt the need to get away, but then he felt it, her head leaning against his leg. "But I really do wish that you would join me," she murmured almost too quietly for him to hear.

He stared down at her for a moment before sitting down and allowing her to place her head in his lap. Unsure of what else to do, he leaned back and watched the night unfold.

"This reminds me of the first night we ever really spoke," she whispered. He looked down at her, startled by her words. "It was a full moon, and we were talking about what we would do with the Holy Grail. Iskander was giving me a really hard time..."

The words sounded strange coming off of her tongue, almost as if she had viewed the night as something that she cherished. When he thought back on it, however, she had seemed quite miserable. Still, he listened on, waiting for her next words.

"But, then, after he left, you told me not to worry, Gilgamesh." She sat up and turned her head, so that she was looking in his eyes. In them, he could see his reflection once again, large and beautiful through a world of green.

He almost felt sick.

"You told me that I was right, that I should chase my dreams," she continued, a light smile gracing her lips. "And then... You told me, 'You may prove worthy of still more of my love...' I remember those words so very well."

Although Gilgamesh could, indeed, remember saying such things and meaning them, he also remembered that he had said them in such a condescending way that it had surely crushed her entire spirit. The fact that she had spoken those words in such a nostalgic, dream-like state was enough to make him feel disgusted.

He would have stood up and left her if not for him noticing one thing: the bulge of her stomach, as large and round as a watermelon.

He wasn't sure what to feel: surprise, disgust, unease? Whatever it was, he wasn't conveying it very well, as he simply stared at her stomach.

Arturia, noticing the sudden shift of his attention, looked down at her stomach as well and smiled, placing a hand on the top of it and rubbing slowly. "I still find it strange," she said, "to have a little body growing within my own." She took one of his hands, and placed it on top of her stomach. "Have you thought of any names yet?"

He didn't reply, so she simply continued.

"I was thinking along the lines of Diarmuid for a boy or Irisveil for a girl," she said. "If at all possible, I would like to make the name meaningful." She sighed and rubbed a little more, her eyelids falling softly. "I was also thinking of the name Mordred, for either gender."

"No."

She looked up at him, head tilted to the side.

He had hated every one of those people. Diarmuid, the impudent fool, had nearly stolen Arturia, his precious treasure, from him during the fourth Holy Grail War; he could only be grateful to her master for finishing him off quickly and soundly before anything could have stirred between the two. Irisveil may not have done anything too rash, but he still found her to be foolish and naive, much too trusting to a man that had created her simply for the purpose of her death. And Mordred... Simply the thought of the boy who had slain Arturia in an attempt to win her affections was enough to make his skin crawl with rage. There would be but one worthy of loving her, and none of these mongrels could be it.

And, besides, there would only be one name worthy of his child.

"The name shall be Enkidu." His decision was final.

Once again, there seemed to be a shift in her eyes.

"But of course, dear."

They were now standing in broad daylight in a field of grass and flowers. A little girl, long golden hair and eyes as red as blood, stood next to Arturia, hands locked with hers. Gilgamesh looked between the two, and saw that both their eyes held that same mirror-like quality.

The girl, still holding the older woman's hand, walked up to him, a small bounce in her step. Her head tilted back slightly to look at him properly, and beamed at him with a large smile. Her eyes shone back a ruby image of him, untainted and perfect in every way she looked.

She tugged at his hand, and he looked down to see that she was holding something out to him: a small ring made from flowers of all shapes and colors that formulated into what must have been a crown.

"For the King of Heroes."

He stared down at her, then at the crown in her hands. There was a small white bud, its petals the shape of a teardrop, in the very center of it. He reached out a hand to touch it-

The flower instantly withered into a small brown bulb.

He stared in shock for a moment, not sure what to make of this, and looked up to see that the location had once again changed. Tall walls of bushes stood up around him, everywhere he looked, with small pathways that led out into other corridors of bushes. A maze. Annoyed, he rounded a single corner and stopped to find that same girl standing in the middle, smiling.

"What are you doing, child?"

She began to giggle, and then skipped out into another passage. His eyebrows arched down- he was running low on patience- but then her head popped back around the corner before disappearing again. With great reluctance, he began to follow her, his feet carrying him slowly over the mud and grass. When he had made it, he found the girl waiting patiently, bouncing on the tips of her toes, her joyful grin never faltering. She ran off into another direction.

He continued following, with the same pattern, for what had felt like an eternity until, finally, she rounded one more corner and, when he did, he found himself in an entirely different place.

A room, completely barren of any doors. To his left, a window from which moonlight swept it. To his right, a dark-colored sofa. And in front of him, Arturia.

She stood, hands held neatly in front of herself. Her head was tilted slightly low, but her eyes were now high enough to look into his. She adorned a dress, long and as dark and black as the rest of the room they were in. She seemed different again. The expression she wore was nearly frightening.

He stared at her, simultaneously exhausted and fed up with everything that had been going on. He took a step towards her.

"What mind games are you playing on me, woman?"

There was a smile, so small that it almost wasn't even there, touching at the corner of her lips. His reflection in her eyes was no longer something that he desired. She shook her head. "None, my dear. I haven't an inkling of what you're speaking of."

He reeled his head back, disgusted with the obvious dishonesty that she was showing him, and observed her from the corner of his now-narrowed eyes. "You are not the King of Knights," he spat down at her small form. "Where is the woman who resisted me out in that forest?"

"But I am Arturia Pendragon, and that was me. Or as far as you would know, that is." Sighing, the woman closed her eyes and shook her head. "You must not understand what has happened, King of Heroes." She opened her eyes again, and put her hands behind her back, smile widening into something that must have been amusement. "People change. You have finally beaten me into the submission which you have desired."

It must have been a trick. "My Arturia would never allow me to do such things to her. She is too prideful."

She leaned forward, so that she was looking up at him with new eyes which shone the light of the moon. "But I am only human, dearest. And every human has their breaking point."

"There is nothing human about you, mongrel."

That smile never wavered, but she leaned back again. "You would simply never understand," she said. "You, who is only but one-third man, and two-thirds god. If there is anyone standing in this room that is not human, Gilgamesh, it is you."

He stood in silence, enraged by the words, as she continued. "You never have gone through your life truly wishing for anything, have you? You grew, nearly worshiped by your country. You had a friend which you could always rely on. You even gained the secrets to immortality." Her smile lessened into something small, more sad than amused. "Enkidu's death was the only thing which held you back in life. Your only friend." She laughed a small, humorless laugh. "I find it pitiful that the legendary King of Heroes has lived such a sad existence. Never once have you desired something for more than a moment, have you? You simply wanted to want something, am I right?" This time, when she laughed, it was loud and scorning. She clutched her sides and tossed her head back, laughing hysterically to the ceiling.

At this point, he was finished with this conversation. He knew she was not Arturia, and that was all that seemed to matter. Now to get rid of this nuisance. He struck out a hand, ready to catch her throat and squeeze, only to find that this Arturia was gone. He was in a church, a golden grail sitting on a table covered by a red cloth. There was no mistaking it.

This was where he had first proposed to her.

Another Arturia stood at the doors of the church, emerald eyes alight with pleasure. He tried to turn and walk away- this was not the Arturia he desired, either- but when he did, she was there standing with her head only centimeters from his chest.

"Darling!"

He backed up a few steps only to bump into something- it was her again, green eyes staring up at him.

"Where are you going?"

He tried to push her aside, but her body misted away like smoke upon contact. Once again, she was at his side, holding on to his arm like a railing, snuggling her face into the cloth of his shirt.

"If there is something the matter, you can tell me. I am your wife, after all."

"Off of me, wretch!"

He tore his arm from her, only to find that she was in front of him again, staring with saddened eyes. Her hands were held in front of her, fiddling together solemnly.

"Am I displeasing you, somehow?"

"Yes."

He simply decides to go to the doors of the church and exit that way, so he pushes past her. As expected, her body dissipates upon contact. She is at his side again, and each time he passes her, she turns up on the other, pleading him.

"Please don't leave!"

"I am sorry!"

"What have I done?"

"What about little Enki?"

"I have given up everything for you!"

There are tears in her eyes now. He ignores and continues to his destination: outside of this god-forsaken church. "Holy grounds," his ass!

"You and Enki have given me a life, a purpose!"

"I put Excalibur down the day we were wed."

"I no longer wish for Camelot's salvation, because I would no longer be of use to you."

"I no longer wish to fix things with my son, Mordred, because I now have Enki."

"I have given up my dreams, Gilgamesh! All for you!"

"Please don't leave me!"

Almost there. This should be the last time that he has to listen to any of the pitiful nonsense coming from his beautiful Arturia's mouth!

Little did he know, as he reached the door and felt he arms wrap around his neck in an embrace, that she still had three final, terrifying words left to say.

"I love you!"

And the world was diminished to blackness.

Gilgamesh opened his eyes to find himself leaning on the wall of a shrine building. There was still light outside, although just barely, as the sun was perched just on the horizon, preparing to send the world into the darkness of night.

Kirei was standing not too far off from him, a spell book in hand. Above him was a web of dark goo which leaked onto the ground and stained the grass black. Suspended in the middle of this web was a small girl, not too unlike the "Enki" in his dreams by features, other than her snow white hair. He body was bare, symbolic of her new role at the Grail's new vessel, and her legs and long hair hung down in the air limply.

Kirei paid little mind to him, simply looked back to see that he had awoken, and told him to prepare. So he did so, walking off to the entrance of the shrine. He noticed, as the sun fell, how the moon that had risen was round and full, like it had been when he was sitting next to the fake, pregnant Arturia at the lake in his dreams. The thought was unpleasant, as he soon began to wonder if this, too, was a dream.

But then she had come alongside her master, a young, redheaded boy whom had looked at her as a love-struck child would so many times. Her eyes, still such a reflective emerald green, were alight with that same, burning fire in them which he yearned to see. So this was the right Arturia, the woman whom he loved so very dearly, after all.

Yes. This would be fine then, he decided. So long as she would still fight him, there would be no matter. She would not change. And, just to be sure, he would treat her more harshly than he planned to once he had her, as to make certain that she would never dare think of changing to that soft, gushy mess which he dreamt of so horribly vividly. He would be sure that, when they made love, it would be him taking her, rather than her giving herself up to him. And if she ever bore a child, he would make certain that it was under circumstances in which she would hate him all the more.

She shifted Excalibur in her hands, ready to strike at any given moment.

He drew Ea and prepared for the adrenaline which would only rush in his veins when watching her hatred for him deepen within her lovely green eyes.

He would never see that fighting spirit burn from her eyes.

He was sure of it.