Trust was an issue that Lancer Alter knew was going to be a problem from the beginning.
To be honest, she still didn't know how to feel about the sequence of events that led her to this point where she saw the life of her younger self play out before her. Emotions, experiences, sensations, she could feel it all as her younger self did, but why did this matter?
It mattered because when Lancer Alter dreamed, she lived her own timeline in the body of her past self.
She was stunned. More than that, she was befuddled at how to feel and act.
She didn't talk much.
She didn't interact much.
This much was a given considering her mental age and aspirations to change the coming future for something better. However, it might have been too much of a change in character.
Kay and Sir Ector didn't say anything, but she could understand their growing concerns with how reticent she was being outside of training. It wasn't a surprise when they started encouraging her to be with Shirou more, at times even inviting him over without her notice if only to see her smile softly.
And smile softly she did.
Time and time again, she found herself doing it.
These emotions were things that were difficult to describe as they were felt, and it was confusing. As a grown and composed woman, it was hard to believe that she would develop such strong emotions for someone as young as Shirou.
Logically, she attributed this to the influence the experiences of her younger self had with Shirou in the timeline she was spectating, but perhaps there was something more to it?
He'd always been quite mature, able to understand her despite his apparent age almost as if he were like her: an adult in a younger body.
Irrespective of such things, she didn't know how the other Arturias were going about their days in their iterations nor did she care, but what mattered was what happened in hers.
Ever since the defeat of the Beast in her adolescence, she'd been more and more consciously aware of her Shirou after he nearly died from her own overconfidence. This was much like what happened with Saber Alter.
To an extent, Saber Alter had likely taken the same steps as her as she was a younger variant of herself, but Lancer Alter digressed.
The present issue was about trust.
Lancer Alter was nothing like her child self. She was cold, detached, and ruthless to those whom she perceived deserved death or were enemies.
How could a person like Shirou ever associate with someone like her?
At first, this was her mindset, and yet again and again, he never failed to persist in his pursuit of her.
When she was brooding, he would come and sit silently by her side.
When she was hungry, he'd prepare food.
When she would train, he would always be ready to train alongside her.
Every time he looked upon her, it was like he only ever saw the good and not the bad.
Pessimistically, she kept waiting and waiting for that moment when he finally realized just what kind of tyrant she would become, but it never came.
H-He would always accept her, and this only made the brewing emotions of attachment stronger and stronger. She couldn't help but keep thinking along the lines of 'if it was him, would he have…'
Damn it.
She would always maintain her composure, but as of late, she found that her gaze was always watching him. She dreaded the devastation of when he would abandon her. She'd experienced it before with her most trusted knights, and she had a feeling it would be even worse if Shirou were the one to abandon her.
It was best to nip the bud while it was early.
She'd had enough.
He had to know that she wasn't a soft or merciful woman. She wasn't the person he thought her as, and as such, his sentiments were misplaced. Her emotions were misplaced.
As soon as she heard rumours of banditry occurring near Bristol, she took it upon herself to hunt them down. Low and behold, her Shirou ended up tagging along, causing a vicious gleam to flicker across her eyes.
She wished to test him; to pressure him, and let him see her for himself who she was as a future tyrant renowned for her brutality and murderous aura.
The meager skills of bandits were nothing against her strength. Upon finding them, she killed them right then and there despite their begging, and without remorse; regardless of their circumstances, she didn't care if they did it for money or to feed their impoverished families. Laws were laws.
Blood splattered over her face, droplets trickling down to drip from her chin. Coldly, she regarded Shirou whom she knew was staring, only to be taken aback.
The way he looked at her; the way he silently walked up to her and helped clean off the blood without another word; the sentiments she could feel when he hugged her; it was opposite to anything she could have ever expected.
He asked her if she was fine.
There was no disgust. No blame. No judgment.
From the very beginning, he never wavered.
This night, she found herself seated upon a hill overlooking a vast expanse of flowing grass, her thoughts deceptively empty.
Wind blew in from the east, the cold breeze lifting up tresses of her hair even as she noticed Shirou approach her and sit by her side.
"You know you can talk to me if there's ever something on your mind," he encouraged.
She looked at him from the corner of her eyes, and ended up pursing her lips. "Why?" She couldn't help but question. "Aren't you disgusted by me? Appalled at my actions? That one bandit was a father trying to provide for his child who's now likely going to die without the father's support."
Shirou frowned while she smiled derisively. "Aren't I cruel? Aren't I unforgivable?"
"Stop that," Shirou inched closer, shutting her up by giving her an uncharacteristically solemn stare. "You're not the kind of person to just kill without reason, and if you expect me to believe otherwise, you're only fooling yourself. You're logical, sound of mind, and though at times merciless, you've never killed an innocent."
She opened her mouth to interject, but Shirou displayed a remarkable amount of initiative.
"I don't want to hear it. If you think that I can't understand you in the time that we've spent together than you're wrong," he laughed lowly at her. "It's true that your ferocity and temperament are far from what I was expecting, but that doesn't mean anything. Let me guess what you were thinking when you killed that bandit. 'Your situation doesn't absolve you of your assisted murders and misdeeds towards others.'"
She gradually closed her mouth, staring down at the ground in shock.
"One of your greatest shortcomings is your lack of emotion that I've told you time after time to fix. You see, I may be able to understand your reasons, but others will only ever see your impassivity to the plight of others and scorn you for it."
She stayed silent before glancing up sharply at him. "Reasons or no reasons, it doesn't change the fact that my actions have negative consequences. My goal is to save the order of this country, but in the end, the people will never understand and all my efforts would be worth nothing. In the end I stand alone, and must overcome everything alone. You shouldn't have saved me that night against that Beast, it only tied you further to me, and nothing good can come from that."
Shirou bristled. "You're wrong."
"Words don't mean half as much as actions." She interjected. "What happened back then was different…you-"
He hugged her abruptly, firmly, as if scared that she would disappear and trying to ground her.
"If you think that I risked my life for you out of the spur of a moment or a mistake in judgment that night, then you're wrong." He shuddered, as if the fear of losing her terrified him beyond all measure. "Very wrong." He gripped her tighter.
Her features softened impeccably, the emotions within her surging. "You were a child. You wouldn't have known better, reckless, and quick to action. Yet, you were brave. Even I was enraptured."
"It was what anyone would have done," he tried to reason, but she wouldn't have it.
"Humble too." She eased her tensions and started laughing, her previous sentiments obliterated by how strongly Shirou would deny her trying to belittle herself. It was a good quality; one that could inspire loyalty in a way she never could. "Someone like you would have made a better King then I," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.
"You sound like you've experienced it before," he chuckled before directing his gaze up at the moonlit sky, her gaze following soon after. "The thing is, I probably wouldn't be a good enough King either."
She doubted the words, but retorted with feigned indignance nonetheless. "Are you suggesting that we're both inadequate?"
"No. Nothing of the sort." He interwove his fingers with her own, firmly pressing their palms together, sharing their heat and warmth. She shuddered.
Tingles shot down the back of her neck, the feeling of the rough texture of his hand caressing over her own.
"What I'm suggesting is that individually, we both have our own flaws that we know best ourselves. It takes a great deal of maturity to understand our own shortcomings, and even more so to admit them openly to another. We both have our flaws Arturia, but that doesn't mean that we can't learn to fill in those gaps. If not by ourselves…then with each other for as long as you'd ever need me."
She looked at him, her heart doing funny things, a jitteriness coursing through her body as she freely interpreted his meaning.
He scratched at the back of his head in response, his features flushed at the words, but he didn't take anything back either.
Her Shirou, he-
She placed strength into the grip she had with him, searchingly, doubtfully. "Is that a proposal?"
Her voice sounded almost weak in its hesitance, no; in its disbelief. No one, not even her own Knights of the Round stuck by her to the end, let alone uttered such words to the tyrant whose reign marked an era of violence and purging.
Heedless of the thoughts spinning in her head, the earnest sentiment in her Shirou's features spoke of no lies.
"If you ask me who I'd rather spend my entire life with," he nudged her such that they were face to face. "That woman's already right here for better or for worse."
Her heartbeat quickened, her breaths inexplicably growing short.
These emotions; these feelings; as much as she wanted to blame them on the things her child-self experienced and conveyed to her, they were unmistakably her own.
Their faces were practically just inches apart, close enough to feel the heat of their breaths.
She reacted violently out of fear for untrodden waters, shoving him away, but forgetting that she maintained a firm grip on his hand. The force toppled the both of them down the hill in which they sat.
They rolled overtop each other, a mess of limbs and soft groans until their abrupt roll came to a halt with her straddling Shirou on top of his chest, her hands on either side of his head. The knot of her hair had come undone, long pale strands hanging over her face which stared into Shirou's own.
She deflated weakly.
"Tell me you don't mean what you just said. Me, you mean me?" She knit her brows, her expression wavering between confusion and suppressing the butterflies in her stomach.
Shirou's features remained unperturbed, his arms wrapping around her waist such that when he sat up, she didn't fall. Instead, she was seated on his legs, her arms over his shoulders as they stared into each other's eyes.
"Would I mean anyone else? Of course, it's you," he said with riveting clarity.
No. No but she didn't understand how it was possible. She was nothing like the lovable and righteous self of the past. She was jaded, darkened, and without mercy for any and all lawbreakers: lawful evil.
"What if I become a tyrant? What if the people's scorn blackens my reputation to ashes? There's no way you wouldn't garner the people's resentment for even associating with someone like me," she revealed.
This was exactly how it had happened in her timeline. At first, an untold number of Knights flocked to her side, obeying her commands and carrying out their oaths. But as the purges began, and the rivers of blood swept across the country, the reputation of the tyrant was just too much. Any and all Knights under her employ were considered ruthless and feared by the masses.
There was no praise in their wake, only fear, and this whittled away the resolve of any Noble Knight including the stalwart and brightest Gawain.
In the end, there was no one left to stand by her side when rebellion came.
Shirou was different.
There was no wavering in his actions nor response as if she herself were the miracle he cared solely for, and the rest only minor nuances.
"For better or for worse," he repeated that same phrase from earlier stronger than before. "You don't give yourself enough credit. If the people scorn you, belittle you, or even hate you to their bones, it will be because they don't know the real you. They only see what they want to see."
Truer words hadn't been said, but wasn't Shirou only able to say that because he hadn't seen the atrocities she would commit in her future reign?
"Are you not the same?" She responded sharply.
Could he really see her for who she was?
That her actions, though inhuman or cruel at times, were for the betterment of the country?
Who was she kidding?
"Look into my eyes and tell me if I'm lying; if I'm the same as the rest."
She couldn't bear to do so because she already knew.
He'd choose her even still.
"You disregard others, never letting them get too close, but you're the one who strives with her utmost to maintain order. You're the one who would take up your sword first to protect those who would judge you."
Stop. Stop it.
"So, why would it be so hard to believe that I can't see that and appreciate you for it? That your enemies would be considered mine?"
She pressed her forehead against his own, resting in that position just like that, feeling weak, feeling lost.
These feelings were real as real could ever be.
"You won't change your mind? You won't regret this?" She murmured softly.
"Would I be here otherwise?" he said wryly.
At this moment, Lancer Alter stopped fooling herself. If anything, she was far more decisive than her younger counterparts as it came with maturity and self-understanding.
With their faces already mere inches apart, she took the initiative to close the distance and kissed him softly as an answer for everything.
Then she kissed him again, and again, until she was breathless and pulled back, staring at his utterly dazed face.
"That Emily girl better stay away, or I don't know what I'll do," she muttered, the tips of her cheeks red, her fair complexion making this even more obvious in the moonlight.
Shirou soon collected himself, hugging her closely.
"You're jealous?" He replied in jest, but she wasn't joking.
She shoved him and glared, albeit without any heat.
"You're mine, and no one else's," she declared, causing him to snort before hefting himself up onto his feet with her in his arms. He always was pretty strong.
"I should head back," he said, his gaze staring at Efret, the Ashton family's Phantasmal Beast, circling above in wait for him.
"Put me down," she said flatly.
"You don't like it?" He smiled at her warmly.
"I was raised as a man. How would you feel If I were carrying you in my arms instead?" She countered. However, she didn't deny the statement either.
"Amused if anything," he gently lowered her down onto her feet. "It doesn't help since I'm more than a head taller than you."
"I'll grow," her lip twitched at the mention of height. Still, she'd catch up eventually given her adult form.
"Then I'll get going. You wouldn't want to miss breakfast tomorrow if you kept me too late now, would you?"
That's debatable, she thought inwardly, yet outwardly she nodded.
Soon after, she watched his figure silently depart, one hand reaching out as if bidding him to stay, but she pulled it back a moment later.
The moon of her dreamscape shone down from above as the echoes of the night let loose their songs of slumber and rest.
She stared absently at the lingering warmth in her palms before cradling her face between them, and recounting the evening's events. Did this count as a proposal?
Marriage, huh?
This feeling in her chest; this ever-growing desire…
"Arturia?"
Her thoughts were in a jumble, the sudden familiar voice only making it worse.
"Kay?" She called out to the man who made his way over to her with carefully neutral features.
Had he been eavesdropping? How long had he been there? Had he been spying from the beginning?
Lips pursed, and mouth kept utterly silent, she could only watch as Kay struggled with himself before grimacing.
"If he makes you happy, then I won't say anything," he said gruffly, almost annoyed.
What was worse, was that he didn't even allow her to get a word in before walking off in a bad mood.
In retrospect, seeing the blush on her otherwise calm and breathless expression was Kay's tipping point.
"Bah! Kid better know what's good for him. If he dares take advantage of my baby sis, then…"
Kay trailed off, but Lancer Alter wasn't listening any further after she shook her head in realization.
She'd been living so far into the future that she wasn't looking at the present; at the people who cherished her regardless of anything.
Alone?
Did she have to be?
A smile tugged at her lips which she touched absently with her fingers, the sensation of his mouth still on her own.
The taste was sweet.
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