Disclaimer: I don't own Fate Stay Night

Imporant A/N:

Read carefully, I'll go through names and titles so you guys can keep up with the amount of Egyptian and Babylonian mythology I put into this fic. Both canon to the fate series, and not. It would be in your best interest to read the NOSTOS ALGOS EVENT CHART ON MY WORDPRESS.

It was raining.

The perfect skies that had been clear a minute before were relentless as they showered his kingdom in splashes of cold water only further chilled by the night air. Though it wasn't like Gilgamesh fully believed the skies were going to be clear for the rest of the night. He had lived long enough to know not to trust whatever it was the skies promised. It would rain – it always did. People around them scrambled back inside their houses, others that were able to see him through the impromptu pelting still stopped to droop down into the lowest of bows before continuing on their way.

He ignored all of them.

Gilgamesh kept his gaze on the woman before him, pinning her with his unwavering stare. His hair left its slicked back style and now matted itself down on his forehead. His robes clung to him and he could see the rain take its toll on her own appearance as well. He wondered for a brief moment if perhaps she'd get sick if she stayed too long in this rain, but he quickly perished the thought. It's not like that mattered. Besides rain or no, he still looked flawless. Though he was a bit bothered by the fact that the rain was ruining his robes.

Two of his weapons shot out at her in a quick test of her skill. He couldn't have another incident like what had occurred at the Temple of Uruk. He had completely emptied his vault when he had faced off against Enkidu, having underestimated the power of one of the gods' messengers. This, however, was unlike that time. He could tell from the way her eyes widened and how she glided around the two weapons fired at her with panicked surprise. She didn't shoot anything back at him, no powerful attack, no great offense – nothing.

In fact, she looked more adept to dodging and running away than actually fighting back. If the way she slithered around was any indication. A wave of disappointment and confusion flooded him at the realization that she wasn't out to get his head. Why then, was she here? Had the gods really sent her to punish him? Of course they had. Nothing else could explain the strange aura she exuded. An aura so much like his own.

Gilgamesh glared at the woman standing above him. She blocked the moon from his sight, but with her there before him he probably wouldn't have been able to see it even if he tried. Her presence didn't command his attention – of course it didn't. That was an outlandish thought. Only his own attendance could do such a thing. He willingly gave her his notice. Not because he was angry at the fact that she stood on a ground higher than he did, nor was it because he was annoyed by the self-important way she spoke or looked down on him from her position, and it most definitely wasn't because he was absolutely livid by the slap he had just taken to the face.

No. Definitely not.

He wasn't that petty.

"Uncultured swine," Gilgamesh's voice boomed, piercing through the crisp night air and overpowering the sound of rain, of nature, itself. He put a hand on his hip, giving the illusion of casual candor. "If you beg, perhaps I'll give you the gift of a quick death."

His Gate of Babylon itched to shoot, to let out its contents. A vault that he hadn't opened in far too long. Now that he had, he wanted to enjoy firing his precious treasures. Projectiles that produced light far brighter than any star. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was curious about her. Mere humans didn't possess the capabilities to dodge one, let alone two of his weapons, so what was she?

"My King," she said with a frown. She called his title without any mockery or malice. Just another honorific. Said in a way that made it seem like she defused the anger of nobility and the wealthy often. But she still didn't obey his words and that more than anything had his annoyance rising, bubbling to the surface – along with his amusement at the entire situation. "I'm afraid that a different venue requires my attendance."

His eyes narrowed in disdain. As far as he was concerned, he should have been her first priority. "Nothing should be more important than your King."

"Nothing is," she tilted her head up at the Heavens in a gesture. One he easily read through. The gods – or perhaps only god – were her kings. What a foolish woman. To trust beings that cared not for her was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

"And what of the one standing before you?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. Irritated eyes glancing sidelong at her in a demeaning way. "You have the gall to say that I am not your King after saying such fancies, after throwing around the word my. Lying to my face… How badly do you wish for death, mongrel?"

It wasn't a question; it was a blatant threat.

One that she had no doubt he'd make good on. But she was surprised to hear no edge of arrogance in his voice. Only cold fact. Said so confidently that it could only be hailed as truth. His voice almost had a sing-song cadence to it, as if he enjoyed threatening random strangers. He probably did. Gilgamesh laughed out loud at her silence as she narrowed her eyes at the unpleasant sound. Then, almost as an afterthought, he swung his hand in a lazy arc. More portals opened and he gave her a threatening smirk. But his hand suddenly stopped midway, his eyes narrowing as a voice boomed from the sky.

"Enough," the voice commanded.

Gilgamesh sneered, head snapping up to look up at the skies heavy with rain. An aura of death and violence emanated from his form. It made the very heavens cry out as more rain poured and the loud sparks of thunder got even louder.

"That is enough," the voice said again in an uncompromising tone that had Gilgamesh scoffing.

"You dare order me around?" Gilgamesh challenged, looking up at the Heavens with a provoking look in his eyes. Utterly defiant. "If you want me to stop then you are free to come down and force me. I will not be swayed by mere voices."

"I said," a hand grabbed his arm. "Enough."

Gilgamesh looked at the beautiful goddess that stood before him. Her skin was glowing pure white. She wore a plain white tunic and a gold circlet sat on her head. Dark hair with orange eyes, her pupils like a snake. Gilgamesh, however, was not swayed by such beauty. He merely narrowed his eyes and gave her a glare that would have sent lesser men cowering with their tails between their legs. Who was this goddess? She clearly wasn't part of the Mesopotamian gods. Why was she here? Why did she still his hand?

Gilgamesh noted that the rest of the world had stopped moving. Humans stood still and even the rain had steadied. No noise present; only the sound of her voice. A goddess, indeed.

"Do not touch my daughter, King of Heroes," the goddess all, but spat. Venom dripping from every word. "Shuri is not for you to keep, nor to touch."

"Daughter?" Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed into slits.

"A bastard child," Shuri chimed in, carefully making her way down the building and dropping to a low bow before her mother. It wasn't everyday a goddess left the Heavens, and in this humanoid form, Shuri knew that it must've strained her body.

Gilgamesh paid Shuri's words little to no attention. Instead, he looked up at the sky and bellowed, "Anu, you sly prune! Explain this!"

The Heavens were silent.

Gilgamesh scoffed. Of course. Leave it to gods to disappear when they were most needed. Always offering false hope and whispering promises they had no intention of keeping. Such unreliable beings. But that was fine, Gilgamesh would never abandon humans as they did. It was his duty – and his curse. But this, this was a blatant disregard of the rules. He was the only demi-god on this Earth, given a job and sent to watch over the humans. There was no need for another like him. Her very existence infuriated him.

"I am the Egyptian goddess, Wadjet," the goddess said, snake like eyes crawling over his form. She stood as straight as a bow and held her head high. "Protector of Egypt."

"What is an Egyptian goddess doing in Babylon?" Gilgamesh crossed his arms in displeasure. "Don't tell me you're lost, if so then I'll happily bring you back to that sorry excuse of land."

"Such an unpleasant man doesn't deserve the hand of my dearest daughter," Wadjet said.

"Nor do I want it," he looked over at Shuri, her red hair darker in the rain. A blur of light against the gloom. She looked nothing like her mother. Just the eye color, but even their pupils were different. Wadjet was more intimidating, her daughter more… human, was perhaps the best description.

"Do tell that to your gods," Wadjet turned her back to him, pushing her daughter away from him. "They've been scouring all of Egypt in search of those like my daughter – those like yourself. They want to unify the lands apparently."

"It's a very brazen move," Shuri said, all hints of defiance gone from her voice as she spoke to her mother. "Though I don't dislike the fact that they led my caravan to Babylon. There are many impressive sights and welcoming people."

"Such a forgiving girl," Wadjet cooed over Shuri like any high class mother would over a daughter. Gilgamesh had seen the wealthy treat their daughters the exact same way. "However, do keep in mind your position. You cannot die, not when I still have need of your talents."

"Yes," Shuri muttered. "I know."

Gilgamesh scoffed at the interaction. To him, she was defiant and stoic; yet one word from her mother had her sitting down like an obedient dog. He turned his head away in disappointment and instead looked above him with contempt. He knew those gods were up to something, but this was just ridiculous even for them. To go behind his back was a new low. One he didn't think they'd hit. They were silent as he stared and after a moment, Gilgamesh turned his head away.

"I bid you farewell, Gilgamesh, King of Heroes," Wadjet turned away from him and pushed Shuri forward. "The humans are waiting, my lovely daughter. Go, I will see you again."

With that, she disappeared as abruptly as she had come.

Time moved again.

The rain pelted them, the voices of locals permeated the air, and all that was left was Gilgamesh and Shuri. Staring at each other for one long moment. He could hear some people wondering when he had put away his portals or when she had moved to stand before him. Little they knew; little they saw. Gilgamesh ignored them, opting instead to examin her form, eyes trailing over her body and getting a good eyeful as if to imprint to memory her appearance. At least he had received an answer to his question. She was like him though her purpose was an entirely different one. Her purpose was to serve, to entertain. How pitiful.

He broke the silence first.

"Shuri," he called, trying the name on his tongue. All previous hostility nowhere to be found. "Other than those meddlesome geezers on the throne, what brings you to Babylon? To my city?"

She looked up at him through wet locks, her eyes wide in surprise. Clearly she hadn't been expecting the question since he had been trying to kill her just a moment ago. She took a deep breath to gather her thoughts and she whispered something into the rain, but it was drowned out by a flash of thunder. He could have probably caught her words, but he was loathed to admit that her hair drew his attention. It was such a disgustingly vibrant color. Noisy. Uncontrollable. Almost as if it were calling out to him, saying,

'I'm here. Alive. Notice me. Dampen me! Take away my vigor! I dare you!'

Loud, unruly and red. So damn red.

She had a kind face, but the hair was the giveaway. She was intense, lethal, and just a little bit mad.

"Shuri!" A young boy suddenly ran up to them, bumping right into Gilgamesh's leg and falling to the ground.

Gilgamesh looked down at the boy not even gracing him with a grimace. He noted that the boy had called for Shuri. "I'm in an agreeable mood," he said with arrogance that could put the gods to shame. "Consider yourself fortunate."

Ahn looked up hesitantly at the voice of the King, swallowing the lump in his throat and not even caring that he had fallen right into a puddle of mud. What in the world was the King of Babylon doing in a place like this? What did he want with Shuri? His eyes met with the perfect form of Gilgamesh, himself, who merely spared him a glance. One glance and that was it. As if everything that Ahn was had been perceived, judged and dismissed in that one instant. Red eyes turned away from him and focused back on Shuri – they looked surreal in the rain together. Ethereal. Staring at each other as if they were longtime acquaintances with desperate secrets.

"I didn't quite hear that," Gilgamesh said to her, referring to her previous whisper. "Speak up, mongrel."

Shuri's eyes narrowed though he didn't look to be trying to insult her. Perhaps that's what made it all the more infuriating. "I have a show, so I'm afraid I must be going now."

"Come to my palace," he announced without a care for her schedule or life for that matter. Her eyebrows moved in a mad attempt to reach her hairline. Caught completely flat footed at the abrasive and uncompromising tone of command. "You're an entertainer, are you not?" He continued, as if it had already been decided. Then again, Gilgamesh's word was law. "Do a show for me."

"I must be returning to Egypt soon," she told him, tilting her head. "Though you are free to sit in on tonight's sho—"

Gilgamesh sighed and turned his back on her.

"I said come," he said. "So hurry and follow."

"Don't be absurd," she replied and he stopped in his tracks. "Why not visit my show. I'm sure the view from your castle is tiring, no?"

He turned to her, raising a perfect eyebrow. "You have obviously never seen the view of my castle."

She grinned at him. "Come to my show and I will come to your castle."

Ahn's eyes widened as he quickly jumped to his feet. "Shur—!"

Gilgamesh laughed. It was loud and masculine.

He had a smirk playing on the corner of his lips.

"How interesting," he said, eyes alight with mischief. This was a first – the first time he had ever been presented with an ultimatum. He abhorred not getting his way, but perhaps there was something interesting for him at the end of this road. No matter how infuriating her words sounded at the moment. "You're interesting."

She tilted her head at him, before shrugging. "You have a strange way of complimenting someone."

"You are no longer a third rate mongrel, I am promoting you to first rate. Or worm, I suppose works just as well."

She smirked at his words and Ahn watched as some strange sort of mutual understanding spread between them. Not acceptance. Not like, either. Merely a consensus. Common ground where they both could tread, though Ahn doubted he could follow. They were surrounded by an invisible bubble and here he was unable to even get his mouth open. Perhaps it was because he was in the presence of the King of Babylon, himself.

The skies suddenly cleared and they looked up at the moon that had peeked out again, as if responding to Gilgamesh's better mood. Perhaps it had. Shuri could somehow believe that even the weather would obey the King of Babylon if he so wished it.

The man in question, however, seemed to have a different thought on the matter.

"The gods are mocking me," Gilgamesh said, looking up. He was extremely aware of how his bad mood was fixed in the blink of an eye, almost like a child. It was clear how petty he was being, and that pettiness was clear to the gods, as well. But he couldn't find it in himself to care. Those gods could laugh all they want because in the end, he knew they were jealous of mortals.

"Gods shouldn't be laughing at men," Shuri said and he turned to face her, seeing her looking up at the skies. "They are also foolish."

He closed his eyes, silently agreeing. "I, however, am no mere man."

She grinned at him.

Neither are you, were his unspoken words.

He followed her not because he couldn't force her back to his palace, certainly not because he feared her headstrong attitude in some way, and definitely not because he was still holding onto petty anger over the slap he had received to the face. No. He followed her out of simple curiosity. Then he'd bring her back to his castle – for what purpose, he didn't quite know himself. Entertainment, mostly. A few questions about Egypt and how much she knew of the gods' plan to unite their two countries. An extra way to kill time, before he settled back into thoughts of his own inevitable mortality. But for now, he focused on the present, and his decision to follow her to satisfy his inquisitive nature.

A decision he was regretting with each passing second.

It wasn't that he wasn't used to the noise of the crowds or the stuffiness of the dry city air – because he was. He just wasn't used to being right in the middle of it, or perhaps so insufferably close to it was a more accurate description. He wasn't used to being near such a large amount of people unless he was single handedly destroying an army – one of his more bloody pastimes – or in his temple, where people came to bow at his feet. He watched his subjects from a distance as Shuri and the young mongrel boy he was with performed law defying acrobatics. Shuri stood on ropes tied onto buildings, gracefully dodging lit torches that were being juggled by the boy below. Shuri played with snakes, as another performer played with lions.

Such an amusing performance.

Though it wasn't enough to hold his attention for longer than five minutes. His eyes were already roaming the spectators that had come to watch the display. Some came to watch the performance for a good laugh, while others came to pickpocket the sorry fools that did. Then there were those that just wanted something to gossip about the next day. Frolicking and withered biddies with nothing better to do with their spare time.

By the time he turned back to the stage, the show was over.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Shuri asked, walking up to him. She had a snake wrapped around her arm, which she gingerly placed back into a glass pot. Gilgamesh was vaguely reminded of the fact that her mother, Wadjet, was symbolized by a snake.

"I didn't dislike it," Gilgamesh replied, eyeing her. Wondering what she knew behind that smiling face. It was always the perpetually smiling ones that hid the most secrets.

"That's a start," she shrugged. Shuri raised a hand and pointed over at a large, bulky, masculine figure. "That woman there is Remy. She's our leader. If you'd like us to come to your castle then I must speak to her first."

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow, waiting for the moment this Remy turned around. Once she did, Gilgamesh still couldn't see how this person was female. Her bone structure was larger than his own and she was about three feet taller. If he didn't know any better then he'd say that she belonged to some race of giants. But he didn't doubt his hearing, so it must've been true.

"Do they know of your origin?"

Shuri didn't answer that, though silence was another type of answer.

"Us?" Gilgamesh said instead. He grabbed her chin and gave her a manic grin. Inexplicably delighted when he found defiant eyes glaring into his own – tension sparking. "I believe I only mentioned you. I'm interested in what you know, not these meager skills of two minute fancies. If I wanted a quick dalliance then your body would more than suffice. Now, I will only repeat myself once more—"

"Don't you understand what's happening?" She shot back. Venom dripping from every word. "Forcing me to go with you will only anger the gods of Egypt! Have you not just witnessed that today?"

A shame Gilgamesh didn't care.

"—Come to my castle."

A/N: Read the Notice Board on my Wordpress. Thank you. I just wrote this chapter up now, so excuse any typos.

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