A Thousand Years

by IlurThVir

How does it feel to be forgotten? To be looked at by someone with the same face, the same voice, and to not see recognition cross their eyes? Artoria Pendragon would find out very soon. Emiya Shirou, Demi-Servant vessel to Sengo Muramasa, is summoned to Chaldea, but without his memories of her. Will this be enough to stop the King of Knights from pursuing her beloved? (FiveChapter)

4. Part 3 of 5

PART 3 OF 5

---

Snowflakes fell lightly outside the hallway's large windows. Atalanta stared at them as she continued her stroll back to the Cafeteria while lost in pleasant thought. There was a hint of a smile still on her lips as she walked the nearly empty, spacious hallway. She was clearly in a good mood today. Lunch had been delicious, and her children were finally getting along after all this time. It had taken a lot of efforts and time on her part, but in the end she had managed to get them to accept their new situation. So, yes, today it was definitely a good day.

Her eyes flickered sideways, intent on observing said 'children' with an affectionate smile.

The two little Servants were racing along the corridor, not bothering to cheat through use of their skills or spells. One child wore a black, Victorian dress with a simple bow in the front. Two hot pink bows tied her white hair into two braided ponytails. Her violet eyes glanced at Atalanta as she giggled in her run. Her adopted sister beside her had whiter hair, albeit much shorter. She wore a black turtleneck sweater, with white accents along the sleeves and collar. A single scar fell over her left, silver eye, and another one graced her right cheek. Her blue jeans covered legs allowed her to move slightly faster than her companion.

"Don't run too fast, Nursery Rhyme, Jack," she simply said, shaking her head with fondness.

"Yes, mom!" they chimed together with small smiles as they ran past her. They always did brighten up an area when found together. A fluffy, white creature, no larger than a toy dog breed, was wrapped in Jack's arms as she and her new adopted sister raced forward. Its tail wagged happily in the air as it listened to the two children's laughter and giggling, even if its ears lowered because of the loud sound.

Atalanta felt her joy overwhelm her. While there had been several problems between them at first, she was genuinely glad that she had managed to get the two little kids get along after all this time. Seeing them now was always a pleasant treat. She was glad she had adopted them as a foster mother. Within weeks after Nursery Rhyme's arrival, Atalanta had adopted the little Caster as a way of personally ensuring that all children can be saved. She had ceaselessly showered Nursery Rhyme with care and affection, which was also the same case for Jack after her adoption much later.

Their start had been stormy, at first. Atalanta had committed a lot of effort into making that family work, especially during the act of bridging the previous gap between her and Jack. Her almost animalistic determination had allowed her to break through the hearts of the two little girls. Thanks to that, soon the idea of having a loving mother and a family started to resonated well with them. The female Archer had also successfully managed to convince the little Assassin there was far more affection and comfort to be found outside of the womb. At the very least, Ritsuka was no longer waking up in the middle of the night, screaming in total horror upon finding Jack cuddled snugly into his side.

The two girls entered the Cafeteria, laughing and playing with each other as always. Atalanta followed them with a smile, passing the entrance and finding herself inside the large white room. She expected to find no one inside yet, given that lunch had just finished and most of the Servants were still finishing their meal. This was what she wanted, actually. She preferred to come here early than others. It allowed her to have a moment of peace and quiet, and enjoy her coffee in silence.

Her eyes, however, quickly found the intruder as they scanned the room. A young boy sitting alone at a table in the center of the hall, with red hair, a muscular body and a youthful face. He wore a white Kimono-like cape over his shoulders, with black pants and a Katana tied to his side. He looked like a samurai of some sort. He was currently drinking a cup of tea, with one hand pressed on his forehead and a thoughtful expression on his face. He seemed distressed, almost, given the deep frown on his face.

The three observed the young man carefully. Atalanta knew who that guy was. It was impossible not to know the identity of the newcomer of Chaldea. Especially after all the fuss he had caused the previous day with a certain King of Knights. Everyone had heard of him and his situation, by now.

"Mom? Who's that?" Jack asked, visibly confused. Nursery Rhyme wast staring at him as well.

Atalanta did not answer. Instead, her lips let out a sigh as they saw the little animal in Jack's arms slip out of her grip and start running towards the young man sitting alone. It jumped on the table without hesitation, observing his face with a curious look and a twitch of its tail.

"Fou?"

The boy blinked, confused. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't seem to have noticed their presence until now. "Huh?"

"Hey! Get back here, Fou!" Nursery Rhyme exclaimed, running up to catch the furry animal. Jack followed her closely, and Atalanta let out a second sigh. No peace and quiet today, it seemed.

The boy observed the little animal with a confused look, tilting his head slightly to the side. Fou followed suit, tilting its head too in a copying gesture. "Fou?"

His golden brown eyes twinkled, before settling on the three people approaching him. "Excuse me, does this little guy belong to you?" he asked them politely. His eyes lit up slightly at the sight of Jack and Nursery Rhyme, and his lips curled into a small smile. Maybe he was fond of children too, Atalanta noted.

The female Archer shook her head. "Forgive him, he does this with everyone he sees for the first time. Anyway, no, Fou doesn't belong to anyone. He just comes and goes as he pleases," she explained, smiling slightly when she saw the little animal starting to lick the young man's fingers with a curious look. "He likes you."

The boy smiled. "I'm glad. He's pretty cute," he replied, patting the fluffy-looking cat. Or was it a dog? He couldn't tell.

Atalanta watched him for a couple of seconds, before smiling slightly. He seemed like a decent guy, despite his recent fame. "You must be Shirou, right? I'm Atalanta, Archer-Class Servant. These little girls are my adopted daughters: Jack the Ripper and Nursery Rhyme," she introduced, pointing to the girls currently circling around the young man, observing him with wide and curious eyes.

The red-haired boy hesitated. "How do you know my name?" he asked her.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Are you dense? Or simply plain stupid?" she asked back seriously. "You do know you have memeory loss, do you? Don't you even entertain the idea that you may have known people before?"

Shirou flinched, scratching his neck with embarrassment. "T-That's..." she got him there. She got him good. His expression dropped with a weary sigh. "It's not like that. I just... I don't immediatly trust people as soon as I meet them." His gaze moved back to stare at her amused face with a frown. "So? Did I met you before?"

Atalanta shook her head. "No. But I've heard of you. Everyone in Chaldea knows of you, by now. You've made quite a scene with King Arthur yesterday, after all," she merely explained.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw his face twitch into a tired grimace. Shirou closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair as he sank his back into the chair and looked into Fou's confused face. "... yeah, I figured. Just my luck," he whispered softly. He looked both torn and irritated at the same time as he took a sip of tea.

Atalanta watched him carefully. "Are you alright?" she asked him slowly, moving towards the counter to make a cup of coffee.

He merely shrugged. "...I don't know. A lot happened to me during the last twenty-four hours," he grumbled, as if that was enough to explain everything.

"I can imagine," she agreed with a smile. Then she sighed again. "…sorry for the kids," she added.

Shirou smiled. He simply chose to ignore Jack and Nursery Rhyme as they started to play with his white cape. "It's fine, I don't mind," he reassured her, honest.

A couple of seconds of silence passed after those words. Shirou managed a small smile as he stroked Fou and watched the girls play behind him. They were hiding under his cloak, trying to hide their faces from each other. Atalanta visibly relaxed at that scene. Despite the various rumors she had heard about him, he seemed to be a decent person to her. She wasn't a very sociable person, but after that scene she couldn't help but ask. "I know it's rather indiscreet of me to ask such a thing but... have you decided what to do with King Arthur?"

The red-haired man lost his smile instantly. His eyes fell on the table. "...no, I still have no idea of what to do. All I know is that I'm supposed to go on a 'date' with her tomorrow night," he admitted with a sigh.

Atalanta raised an eyebrow, sitting down at his table while holding a cup of coffee. "A date? That's sounds nice. You don't look very happy, though," she pointed out.

"Why does everybody think I should be happy about this?" he muttered back, irritated. "It's not as easy as it sounds."

"Why?" she asked. In her head, she already knew why. But she assumed it was best to let him vent for the moment. It would surely do him some good to take that weight off his chest.

Shirou furiously ran a hand through his red hair. "Just... put yourself in my shoes. I find myself here, out of nowhere, with no memories and no idea of who I am. All I know is that humanity is in danger and that Servants like us are needed to protect it. And then, while I'm seriously trying to focus on my duty, out of nowhere I come to learn that one of these Servants – the legendary King Arthur, moreover – has a past history with me and is currently in love with me! How should I feel about her? How can I be happy about this? I don't remember anything about her, or myself! And I can't just accept her feelings with a smile on my face and a shrug of my shoulders! A relationship between two people is a serious thing!" he declared, visibly lost and scared.

Atalanta nodded. "That's a good thing," she agreed, surprising him a lot. "The fact that you are so nervous shows that you care. That you are taking this situation seriously. This is already something."

He stared for a while. "...despite that, how can I reciprocate her feelings?" he continued again. "How do I know I'm the same man that I apparently used to be? Is it even 'me' the one she truly loves? Or just my past self that she affirms to see inside me? Is she only searching for him while looking into my eyes? I... I... I just don't know what to do," he sighed with sadness, burying his face in his arms and leaning heavily on the table. He seemed completely lost on this matter. Seeing this, Fou started to sniff his hair in confusion.

Atalanta looked at him for some time. She had no idea why she was listening to all of this, but she felt like helping this guy. She just met him, but there was something intriguing about him. Something that made her want to help him. To give him a little advice. "...you know, you're pretty weird," the female Archer said. Her lips curved into a little smirk as she saw him raise his head in confusion, making the little animal on the table jump in surprise. "Until now, you just focused your thoughts on your past, and on what that woman might think or see in you. But what about the current you, instead? How do you feel about her?" she asked back seriously.

Shirou visibly hesitated at that question. His brow furrowed in thought, his eyes glittering with uncertainty. It took him ten seconds before answering. "I-I don't know," he finally admitted. "She's... hard to read. Obviously she is beautiful, and seems to be a nice person. Her dedication to me is pleasant as well, sure. But... something inside me is telling me that she bears a huge weight on her shoulders. That there is a great pain behind her eyes. A pain she's desperately trying to hide."

The Archer smiled. "That's deep," she said. "You read her well, you know. You still seem to care about her, one way or another."

He scoffed. "How could I not, given everything that has happened?" he retorted sarcastically.

"Then you already know what to do," the woman replied, shrugging. "You don't have to force yourself to love her. Just try to get to know her better. Spend time with her. That's what your date is supposed to be. To get both of you to know each other, and to see if there's still a chance between you two. I think that woman knows this too. In fact, I'm completely sure that's exactly why she invited you to this date, actually."

The young man looked down, lost in thought.

Atalanta sighed, slowly rising from the table. "Don't worry too much," she finally said, setting her now empty cup into the hands of a robot dressed as a waiter. "Not everyone gets invited on a date with King Arthur, you know. If you are honest with her and with yourself, I'm sure everything will go smoothly. She cares about you, apparently. So just go with the flow and be yourself. Everything will be fine."

Shirou nodded slowly. "...thank you," he said sincerely.

The woman simply nodded in appreciation before turning to the two children. "Come on, girls. Time for your afternoon nap."

"Yes mom!" they chimed together, before waving at the red-haired man and starting to follow their adoptive mother.

As the Archer and the two girls left the room, Shirou remained seated at the table, staring into Fou's curious eyes that were still watching him intently. "Fou. Fou!"

His lips curved into a small smile.

"I hope things are going well for you, Mordred."

---

"This isn't happening… this isn't fucking happening…!"

Mordred cursed inside her head for what seemed the hundredth time that day. While she was in that situation, her mind was full of emotions. Emotions too strong, confused and overwhelming to be described. Confusion, disbelief, fear, and anger were there, of course; but there was so much more. It was impossible to count all of her feeling right now. Literally.

"Why the fuck did that idiot make me do this? Why did he ask for this?" she mentally roared, her arms shaking with rage, anger and, more importantly, fear.

She was scared. Mordred couldn't deny it. She was afraid of coming face to face with her Father. To be in the same room as 'him'. To look at him in the face and observe his eyes. Those same, damned eyes of hers that had always ignored her, or briefly looked at her only with disappointment, disgust, and denial. And knowing all of this... it confused her. One part of her wanted to explode with anger and deny everything. Mordred was afraid of nothing. She was a Knight. She was THE Knight of Rebellion and Treachery. She would not tremble in front of anything, and no one.

And yet, now she was.

She blamed Shirou for this. This was all his fault. It was him the one who had blatantly asked her Father to speak to her. Mordred did not understand. She couldn't understand. Why had that idiot done such a thing? Why did he want her to join the Round Table again? What the fuck was on his mind? Was he mad? Did he just want to see her humiliate herself in front of her Father? No, it couldn't be. Shirou cared about her. Even she knew that, although she would never admit it out loud. So... why? Why? Why!?

Their latest talk echoed in her head once more.

. . .

"Why? WHY? WHY DID YOU DO IT?"

"Calm yourself, Mordred."

"Don't fuck with me, idiot! Why did you do it? Why did you ask Father for such a thing?"

"…to help you."

"…what… the… fuck!?"

"Go talk to her, Mordred. This is your chance. Your chance to speak to you father and clear things up with her once and for all. Don't waste it, please. Isn't this what you wanted?"

"I get that! I fucking get that! But… why? Why did you do this for me? Just… why?"

"…because-"

. . .

"-I care about you," he had said.

Mordred clenched her fist. Deep down in her heart, she knew his friend really meant what he said. She knew he had done it for her sake. Because he knew that she was suffering because of King Arthur. She fucking knew it. And yet, at that moment, she couldn't help but hesitate. She couldn't help to be afraid, and to curse her friend for making her do this.

Because, inside her, she didn't really know if she wanted to do this. She didn't even know what to expect from this 'talk'. Her Father had never cared about her. What was she supposed to do if Father just insulted her? What if she told her – for a second time after all this time – that she was just a disappointment in her eyes? That she didn't want anything to do with her after causing the destruction of Camelot?

Mordred... she didn't know. She didn't know what to do. And this frightened her. A lot.

But she wasn't the type to back down from a challenge now, was she? She always faced the enemy head on, bold and fearless, just like a Knight should do. But now? Now, she didn't really think she could do it.

She had no choice but to get this over with.

Gawain was glaring right back at her, still standing in front of her father's room. His face was was a mask of rage and irritation, and she couldn't help but smirk at this. At least, getting on this idiot's nerves was way worth the trouble of coming here. It was always fun to get under this idiot's skin. Especially after the way he treated her during dinner the day before. She knew he couldn't do anything to her now, since her father agreed to this meeting.

It didn't stop her from putting more salt on the wound, though. "You stink. Get away from me before I puke on you."

The way his face twitched with seething rage was immensely amusing to watch. His arms were literally shaking from the effort to stay still. Mordred smirked ferally.

"Gawain. Let her in," her father's voice ordered from the other side.

Slowly, reluctantly, the Knight obeyed, stepping aside and allowing her to pass. Mordred walked over him without sparing him a second glance. Her mind was too busy suppressing the tension to really care for him and his anger. The female Knight stepped inside the room, her eyes aimed straight ahead. She did her best to hold back the trembling of her legs as she walked.

Her father was there, sitting on her bed with a calm, collected gaze. Her emerald eyes were watching her, studying her as she entered. Mordred stopped, right in front of the door. She stared at her as well, unwilling to back down from that staring contest. She was inwardly screaming in fear, but she wouldn't show it on the outside. Not even under threat.

Silence filled the room as the door closed itself behind her. Mordred swallowed, even if her mouth had suddently become dry. Her father said nothing, did nothing. She merely pointed to the chair placed right in front of the bed, urging her to sit as she still kept her eyes glued to her. The female knight complied slowly, with a stiff movement and arms trembling slightly.

In all the scenarios Mordred had envisaged their next encounter, this one had never entered her mind, not even for a moment. And indeed, sitting right in front of her father as she stared at her, with not a single word having been shared between them, was a rather awkward situation. Nor the best one she had imagined, actually.

"How the hell did I end up in this situation?" Mordred demanded inside her head, with great confusion and irritation at the absurd situation she found herself in because of her newly made friend.

So utterly confused by what was just occurring before her, Mordred zoned out and completely missed her father's first words. Registering that the other blonde's lips were indeed moving as her brain struggled to catch up with reality, she blinked and asked with dazed eyes. "W-What?"

Not seeming to care that Mordred hadn't been listening, Artoria repeated patiently. "I said… I apologize, Mordred," she said slowly, closing her eyes and sighing softly. "I know… that we never really had any interactions until now. I… I didn't mean to ignore you all this time, really. I was just… afraid to speak with you again. I still am, actually."

Mordred stared at her for a couple of second after those words. Then she nodded dumbly as she swallowed again, unable to speak. Silently, the two faced each other with barely a few meters between them. Their expressions were both tense at first, but shifted to firm looks as their silent standoff continued… But it would not be like the ones before it. Artoria would not allow that as she broke the silence once again.

"…do you hate me, Mordred?" she asked quietly as she looked in her son's eyes.

"…do you hate me, Father?" Mordred asked back, clenching her fist with barely suppressed tension.

Artoria smiled slightly. Barely. "I see… I'm sorry. It seems that I was right. We really are similar, you and I."

Mordred nodded quietly, but said nothing. Seconds passed between the two. It was a middle ground between awkward and comforting. They were both studying the other with caution and fear for the unknown ahead.

The blonde King was the fist to break the staring contest again. "I was always worried about you," she admitted slowly. "I have wished to speak with you for the longest time. I simply was… too afraid to admit it, even to myself. I have to thank Shirou for this opportunity he has given us."

The female knight's eyes lit up as she stared at the King. There was a small smile on Arturia's face, even if her eyes carried a lingering sadness and steeled resolve. But the genuine hint of appreciation and honesty as Artoria gazed calmly to her would forever embed itself in Mordred's mind.

"…Y-You were worried for me?" Mordred practically whispered.

Artoria blinked in confusion, before she nodded her head slowly. "Of course…" she began to say, before looking at the other knight firmly in the eyes. "I never hated you, Mordred. I believe… it was all just a giant misunderstanding between the two of us. We… We should learn to communicate with each other better. Me, you, the Knights; all of us should… but me especially."

Mordred gaped, completely flabbergasted by this. Slowly, a small smile began to grow on her face at the revelation. Her father didn't hate her… That was something she didn't expect, truly. It felt… strangely good to hear. And refreshing, too. As if a gigantic weight had been lifted from her heart. "…I see," was all she whispered.

The older womand stared at her son intently. Her silence was unnerving. "…Is there nothing you want to say? If you have questions, I will do my best to answer them. I promise you this, Mordred."

The Knight of Treachery hesitated again. She inhaled deeply, before looking at the ground as she spoke. "Father," she ventured hesitantly, steeling herself as best as she could. "Do… Do you regret how things ended up between us? Did you not at any point wish that I had never come to be and avoid all that befell us?"

Artoria widened her eyes after that, caught by surprise by her sudden question. She almost flinched as if struck, her grimace racked with a profound guilt and shame that she was seemingly struggling to suppress. Her eyes softened slightly as she shook her head. "I have accepted my past, my mistakes, since long ago," she replied. Her son glanced up as she spoke. "I have never, not even once, thought ill of you or your birth. But… know that my acceptance of our fate doesn't mean that I lack remorse for what passed."

Mordred clenched her fist again as her eyes glued on the ground.

"I will not lie. Your rebellion costed Britain dearly and caused a great deal of suffering, Mordred. I did not, and still do not condone your rebellion; just as I remain firm in my belief that you were not ready for the throne at that time," Artoria continued, her voice stern but tinged with pain. "Regardless of that, however, I came to understand your motives with time. And now… I can say in all honesty that I do regret how our ties were severed."

The female Knight swallowed, feeling her eyes begin to sting a little. Her teeth gritted in rage, pain, and frustration. "I… I just wanted to be accepted by you," Mordred hissed angrily. She wasn't really blinded by rage now, but she couldn't help but feel a great twinge of pain and anger after those words. "I always looked up to you, adored you, followed you… You were my role model. A flawless, perfect King. I just… wanted to be acknowleged by you. I-"

"A perfect King does not exist, Mordred," her father cut her off, gently. The blonde girl raised her head in shock after those words, stunned, staring at her father's calm and sad eyes. "It was my mistake to even entertain such a notion, back then. If one without apparent flaw stands as a King, then he will not have the wherewithal to comprehend his subjects. He will not understand their emotions, their needs. That's why I failed, Mordred. That was my flaw."

Her son trembled in stupor. "B-But…"

The King of Knights smiled sadly. "I have come to terms with that. It was you, Mordred, the one who showed the world that I was an imperfect King. The one who exposed the flaws in my rule. And you were not wrong in doing that, despite the tragic way that it ended in the end," she said, smiling with sadness and regret. Her emerlad eyes found her son's stunned face once again, smiling softly in acceptance and understanding. "I truly am sorry, Mordred. I never wished for you to suffer. I just… couldn't accept you back then, because of my misguided idea of the role I had to uphold. Your actions, your rebellion, they are not just your burden, your mistakes. They are my burden, my mistakes as well. I'm just as guilty as you are… child."

Her mind exploded with a myriad of emotions. Mordred looked at the King with wide eyes full of unshed tears. Her body was shaking uncontrollably.

For the first time ever, Mordred`s most vulnerable aspect of her personality was on display to the last person she ever wanted to expose it to. For the first time ever, her tears began to flow… right in front of her father.

She cried.

Artoria watched her child shed tears from her face with her own teary eyes. "If I could really turn back in time, the only thing I would change is the way I have treated you, Mordred," she said, with absolute certainty and honesty. It was exactly the same as before, when she talked to Shirou. There was no trace of hesitation in her face. No trace of deceit. She was sincere. She was completely, honestly, totally sincere.

And that was what made Mordred cry.

"F-F-Father… I… I don't know what to say," she hiccupped, her body shaking without control.

The blonde King smiled, shedding a lone tear from her left eye as well. She didn't say anything, at that point. She merely raised one arm, offering her right hand to Mordred. The female knight hesitated, still too shocked and wrapped up in her confused emotions to understand that gesture. Then, slowly, her arm moved to grasp her Father's hand with a trembling, uncertain movement. Until, she was pulled forward and forced to leave the chair.

Artoria pulled her on the bed next to her, giving her a hug.

Mordred gasped.

"I know, Mordred." Artoria soothed as best she could, eyes watering as her emotions finally catched up with the moment. "I know. I'm so, so sorry I rejected you. I truly am."

"F-Fath-er…"

Artoria leaned in further into the embrace, somewhat hesitantly at first, before she threw caution to the wind and fully wrapped her arms around Mordred, taking great care not to force her into that gesture. She was still unsure of how she would react, of what she could do. They never had any interactions before… but right now, she just decided to throw the whole truth at her. The one, true regret that she still carried inside her heart even to this day. Because this could be the one and only chance they had to sort things out. The one and only chance that Shirou offered them to talk, and reconciliate once and for all.

She couldn't waste it for any reason.

Artoria never hated her child. That, she knew. That had always been the truth, even when she couldn't admit it herself. But now… now it was different. Now she was finally being honest with herself. She had to. Because she deserved this, just as her son deserved it as well.

On her part, Mordred remained frozen for a long time at first, completely shocked by the sudden turn of events as they registered in her mind. However, within moments of realizing the action was not a dream, she cracked further. Tears streamed down her face as she buried her head into her father's shoulder, ignoring the sobbing and the shaking of her body as she cried and sobbed for the first time in a long while.

Artoria gently squeezed her in return, letting the knight release her mixed emotions onto her. "I'm so very sorry, child," she said again.

Whatever she replied with, it was inaudible as she sobbed into her shoulder. The King of Knights smiled with some tears shining at the edge of her own vision. "Just relax… We have a lot to talk about, and many misunderstandings to clear… but we'll get to that in time. I'm just glad I was finally able to tell you this."

Amid her uncontrolled tears, Mordred smiled and tightened the warm embrace.

When they finally parted, they were both smiling broadly and chuckling in happiness. Mordred was filled with joy and confusion, and Artoria with relief and a little embarrassment. It seemed that she really did become bolder than usual thanks to Shirou's sudden appearance in Chaldea.

Speaking of which...

"Mordred," the woman began slowly once again, putting her hands on the girl's shoulders. "I know we have a lot to talk about and a lot of things to clear... but there is one thing I want – no – I need to know."

The knight blinked, trying to wipe the tears away from her face. "Huh?"

Artoria looked at her straight in the eyes, her gaze as serious as ever. "I love Shirou," she declared, without an ounce of hesitation. "I have loved him for a thousand years, and I will love him for a thousand more. I know that you two are friends. I know that he cares about you. So, I want to ask you directly..." Her face hesitated for a moment, looking at the completely confused and uncertain expression of her son. Artoria took a deep breath before speaking. "...do you have feelings for him as well?" she finally asked her, both her voice and face deadly serious.

Her son's reaction was interesting. The girl didn't answer right away. Her eyes widened little by little, and her face reached a bright red color all of a sudden. Her lips parted soon after, stammering incoherent words and sounds for some time. Then, after a while, just when Artoria thought she had received the proof of her fears, Mordred whispered slowly.

"What are you talking about?"

Artoria blinked once. Then twice. "D-Do you have feelings for Shirou?" she asked again, narrowing her eyes even as she stuttered a little.

"W-What? Of course not!" her son denied, her brows furrowing in anger. "We're friends!"

Artoria hesitated, uncertain. "But... you seem to care a lot about him..." she tried to say.

Mordred just shook her head. "I do care for him," she replied quickly. Maybe a little too quickly for the older woman's taste. "But not like that. He... He just..." her gaze fell hesitantly to the floor, lost in her thoughts and memories.

Artoria waited for her child to elaborate. "He, what?" she repeated gently, softly.

The female knight sighed slightly. "All my life, I've always wanted to be accepted and recognized by others," she started to explain hesitantly. "Wherever I went, whatever I did, everyone treated me coldly, or with suspicion. Even today, even here, everyone still treats me like that," Artoria felt a pang of pain as she heard those words. She knew Mordred was telling the truth – her reputation was not the best – but she had never imagined that her son was suffering so much because of this. "But when I met him... he was different," she said again, looking at the ground with a confused look.

The King of Knights blinked. "Different?" she repeated.

Mordred smiled fondly. "He never looked at me with suspicion, nor fear," she explained. "Heck, that idiot even said that I looked like a decent person straight into my face. He talked to me, approached me, trained with me, and even asked me to share a meal with him. It was… the first time someone did something like that to me. I was… shocked. And happy. Truly, truly happy," she admitted, blushing a little.

A bit of relief filled Artoria's mind at that explanation. Leave it to Shirou to do something like that so casually. He really was the same good, kind, and wonderful boy she met many, many years ago.

"I started to open up to him," Mordred admitted again. "But, I've never seen him like that. I've never looked at him that way. Especially after you k-ki… what you did yesterday," she stuttered, trying to ignore Artoria's increasingly flushed face. The blonde knight simply shook her head with a sigh. "Yeah, I blush a lot, and I know that I'm not the best at showing gratitude and appreciation towards other people… but I only ever thought of him like a… like a parent, actually. I guess… that he is more like a father figure to me. He treated me like a friend, and he looked after me when I was treated harshly or wronged. He simply looked at me with care and affection… the same things that I always hoped to recieve from you… Father," she finally said, looking at her.

Artoria flinched. Ok, that hurt. She felt really bad after hearing those words from her. She knew that she had never been a real parent to Mordred, and that was something she could never take back. But to hear that Shirou was acting like a father figure to her son was… good to hear. She felt relieved, actually. He did what she should have done… in her stead. Even without memories, even without knowing her son… he befriended her and looked after her. Just like a parent, and a friend.

Just like what she was supposed to do now.

"I see…" Artoria said then. Her lips formed a smile after all of that. "I'm glad, then. I'm glad that you met him, Mordred. He really does surprise me everytime," she said with a fond, adoring smile.

Mordred noddedd, smiling as well. "Yeah… I'm glad too. He even made that embarassing request to you for my sake…" she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "Is that guy for real? Was he like that during your past too?" Mordred asked her with profound befuddlement.

Artoria nodded as her smile deepened. "Shirou has always been an incredibly kind guy. His kindess, his courage and his heart were… truly beyond words," she explained. She then laughed softly. "He was quite stubborn as well. Just like now, actually."

Her son hesitated after hearing that. "But… how do you know he's still the same guy you met in the past?" she asked, perplexed. "I mean, how can you be so sure that he's still the same inside?"

The King smiled. That was easy. "I just do," she simply answered. "I can feel it. When I look at him, when I speak to him, when I touch him… I can feel it inside of my heart. That's how I know, Mordred." Her expression became a little tense and sad after that. "And actually, to be honest, when I first saw him with you, when I learned of his memory loss… I was afraid. I thought that he was replacing me with you," she confessed, looking down in shame.

The knight blinked with shock. "W-What?" she exclaimed.

"I know now that it was foolish for me to think like that," she continued quickly. "But even now, I can't help but be a little jealous of you, Mordred. You are the closest person to him right now… and that makes me uncertain. I… I'm afraid that if things stay like this, I won't be able to reach him."

Her son hesitated for a while after hearing her confession. Her hands clenched into fists. Frankly, if she had to be honest, now that she knew how her father felt about this, she didn't really know how to feel. She was glad, really, that they were finally able to talk like this, but… what was she supposed to say to her? What could she do? It's not like she didn't want Artoria and Shirou to be together again; but she knew what he was feeling about this. She knew how much Shirou was suffering because of his memory loss and his situation with Artoria.

So… what should she do?

"…I'll root for you, Father," she finally decided. Her lips parted in a small grin when she saw Artoria stare at her with eyes full of confusion and shock. "I… I truly hope you two can be together again now. I truly believe that you'll make him happy once again. So… I'll be rooting for you. I promise."

The older woman didn't react immediatly. She simply stared, eyes wide and mouth agape, looking at her child with a stunned expression. Then, her face broke into a smile, and tears of joy and relief started to form inside her eyes.

Mordred blushed when she found herself enveloped in another hug from her father.

"Thank you, Mordred. Thank you. Thank you," her father was saying, weeping softly on her shoulder. The female knight felt her heart flutter with emotions under that gesture. "I'm so, so glad that I could talk to you. I… I'll try to be a better father to you. I promise this. I promise… son."

Mordred grinned, hugging her father as well, with the unspoken bond of family helping to bridge the gap left by bitterness and feelings of betrayal.

"It seems that the talk went well, my liege."

Artoria and Mordred stiffened. Then, slowly, they broke their embrace and turned their heads to the right. There, right in front of the door, Bedivere, Tristan, Lancelot and Gawain were watching the scene in silence, with smiling faces and their eyes full of relief and joy.

Mordred blanched, sweating profusely under the amused and mocking gaze that Gawain was throwing at her.

He had just seen her cry and laugh while she was hugging her father.

There was only one thing she managed to say.

"…fuck."

---

Shirou stared blankly at the three muscular Servants in front of him, tilting his head to the side in confusion. This was not what he had expected to see upon entering the Underground Levels of Chaldea. Da Vinci had just advised him to go pay a visit to the underground floors of the structure, stating that they were full of interesting rooms and activities such as the Night Pub, the Casino or the Gambling Hall; so Shirou had decided to take a look. But the young man had just taken a couple of steps into the Billiard Room when he suddenly found his way blocked by those three Servants, standing right in front of him.

They were looking at him as if he was a luscious piece of meat, with a decidedly unpleasant glint in their eyes. Well, not all of them, actually. One of them – a tall, red-haired, muscular man in Greek robes and red tattoos all over his almost completely bare body – was looking at him apologetically. He looked almost sad as he watched him while the others towered behind him. The latter two, on the other hand, had disreputable smiles on their faces. It was clear that they were the ones that had decided to approach him first. But it was hard to tell who the leader was, given how all of them were filled with muscle from head to toe.

Not that Shirou cared that much, anyway. Nor was he scared. He merely raised an eyebrow. "Can I help you?" he asked.

The tall man with red hair (even more red than his own, Shirou noted) sighed. "I apologize, young one. I did not want to bother you, truly. But these two insisted, so I had no choice but compromise," he said, pointing to his companions behind him.

The young man nodded slowly. "You are?" he asked.

The man streched out a hand for him to shake. "Servant Lancer, King Leonidas I," the Greek Servant introduced himself, with a sincere smile. Shirou shook his hand without hesitation, glancing back at the other two with a curious gaze.

One of them was another tall, muscular man, albeit a bit smaller than Leonidas. His body was tanned, covered in Celtic tattoos and scars all over his chest, arms and even his face. He had sandy yellow hair and a stern but intrigued look. "Beowulf, Berserker Class," he said gruffly with a nod, smirking in anticipation as he studied him with narrowed eyes.

"And I'm Fergus mac Róich, Saber-Class. Nice to meet you, lad," the last one declared as well with a friendly grin. Like all of his companions, he was barefoot and shirtless but with dark pants. He had purple hair, a gentle face and three scars on his chest.

The young man was silent for a couple of seconds, assimilating their names in attempt to remember them later. "I see. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Shirou Emiya, Pseudo-Servant vessel to Sengo Muramasa," he introduced himself in turn. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Leonidas smiled broadly. "That is easy to explain, young one," he said solemnly, crossing his arms on his sculptured chest. "You see, my companions and I personally witnessed to your evaluation this morning. And, to be honest, we were definitely impressed. It has been a very long time since we felt this excitement from a sparring evaluation. You have proved to possess enviable skill and strength, worthy of the most intrepid warrior of Sparta!" he declared with decision, nodding in approval.

Shirou blinked, finding himself in a bit of a loss. "...thank you?" he exhaled slowly.

"So, we would like to make an offer to you," the greek King promptly continued. His smile became more and more excited as he spoke. "Come with us on the External Fields and train with us."

…he did not expect that. "Train?" he repeated, confused.

"Why, yes, of course!" Fergus exclaimed with a mighty grin. "There's nothing better than a training session on the cold, fresh air of the mountains! It is very important for the body, and the muscles, to train in the cold!"

Shirou blinked again. "…muscles?"

Beowulf nodded, grinning like a madman. "Bulging muscles and surging blood compel the body to move! They cooperate to move forward and challenge one's limitations! Victory doesn't always mean beating the enemy... It can also be a display of someone reaching their absolute pinnacle!" he declared, stomping with one foot and raising his arms to flex his biceps. His eyes flashed of a gloden light as he posed without a reason.

Sheer silence followed that scene for a while. The red-haired young boy sweat-dropped with a blank stare. Even Fergus and Leonidas looked ashamed after their compainon's actions. "…I see," Shirou said evenly, completely lost on what to think about this whole 'muscle thing'. "Why do I always find myself in such bizzarre situations?" he mentally sighed.

"Do not mind him," Leonidas said with a shake of his head. "We merely wish to test your strenght. A simple training and sparring session, outside the walls of Chaldea."

The young Saber crossed his arms. "I see. But why train on the External Fields? Why not use the Training Room, instead?" he questioned.

Fergus shrugged. "Because it is always crowded on this time of the day," he answered. "We wouldn't be able to go all out with other people training there as well. Besides, even if it's cold outside, we'll still be fine, since we're Servants."

Shirou blinked, before noddong slowly. That made sense, actually.

"So? What do you say, lad?" Leonidas asked, smiling at him.

Shirou hesitated for a couple of minutes. He hadn't expected this particular turn of events, sure, but he had no reason to refuse. Without Mordred and Iskandar to keep him company, he would have probably ended up wandering around Chaldea aimlessly, anyway. The idea of training was tempting from this point of view. Also, these three Sevants seemed powerful, albeit a little weird (especially the Berserker one), but he didn't mind too much. The idea of challenging his skills against some powerful opponents was definitely intriguing. Shirou liked to fight, after all. He was still a Saber.

And, quite frankly, he needed to clear his mind for a while. Standing still and doing nothing was boring, and it only forced him to put his mind and thoughts on heavy subjects like... like Artoria and his memory loss.

So, yeah… he definitely needed a little distraction.

The young man smiled. "I accept," he decided.

The face of the greek King lit up in approval as his companions grinned in anticipation. "Very well. Great answer, young one. Follow us, then," he declared, gesturing him to follow them to their next destination. Shirou did so without hesitation or questions.

It took a hour for them to reach the fields. Once they exited the main structure, Shirou almost gaped at the view. The mountain where Chaldea was built, with the building sitting at nearly four thousand meters above sea level, was the largest and most prominent in sight. Several mountains acted as makeshift supports for the colossal mound of earth, with one of them flanking the structure. This smaller cousin formed its peak only a scant few hundred meters above the facility, forming no threat of avalanches. A saddle formed between it and the massive mountain, connecting the organization to another large, flat outcrop that used to act as a helipad.

To reach the External Fields, individuals needed to walk half a kilometer west of Chaldea over the small saddle between the main mountain and the smaller, adjacent one. Circumnavigating the small mountain through the small and snow-covered paths was not an easy task. The trek was just barely eased by a metal grate, raised walkway that was easy to clear of ice. Occasionally, an avalanche or two would bury the path, but robots would handle the cleanup work with occasional Servant assistance. Thankfully the avalanches couldn't threaten Chaldea itself due to its reinforced nature.

The former landing field served well as a training area. Several smaller peaks rose around the almost circular plateau, partially hampering the view of the range beyond. Structures on sight were limited to separate bathrooms and a small observation deck with a slanted roof, but no walls to protect from the cold. This lack of environmental protection was amplified by the wind that was always blowing at least ten kilometers an hour, increasing to fifty at random intervals.

It was rare to ever see an employee out here unless it was to repair something intricate a robot couldn't. High altitudes made the work extra strenuous, on top of the harsh conditions. The relatively shielded, by mountain and structure, shooting range was one of the only safe places outside for employees. Even the Servants were reluctant to come here unless they were keen on sparring. The ones that absolutely loved coming here enjoyed the challenge of training under adverse conditions to keep themselves primed.

Once they were all there, Beowulf stretched his arms and grinned in anticipation under the cold wind. "Well, here we are," he said, approaching two large stone boulders jammed into the snow of the training fields with a grin.

Leonidas nodded, turning to the youngest warrior among them. "This kind of training is pretty straightforward and simple. We'll start by simply using those boulders to test our endurance," he explained, in a cheerful, calm tone, as if that was the most obvious thing to say in the world.

Shirou blinked, before arching an eyebrow in confusion. "Wait, start? Boulders?" he repeated, uncertain. He didn't like the direction this talk was taking. "Shouldn't we just fight each other?"

The three Servants looked at him with an ardent look and a knowing smile. Fergus grinned with a laugh. "Lad, where would be the fun in that? Fighting is the last part of training, not the first one!"

"We'll get to that, of course; but later. Simply fighting without exercising the body first would be an extremely lax method for our standards," Leonidas explained, nodding in decision.

Shirou started to pale at that. He had no time to retort, however, before it was too late. Stretching both arms to his side, he saw Beowulf shifting into his battle attire and summon two swords. The largest of the pair, Naegling, was lifted onto the shoulder of the Berserker as the chain connecting his wrists rattled. He shifted his legs, squaring his bare feet with his shoulders, before flashing one hell of a smirk as he swung the lengthier blade, Hrunting, like a windmill at one of the gigantic rocks in front of him.

The stone broke off the ground suddently, before flying through the air in his direction and crashing onto Shirou's shoulders with a thud.

The young man yelped in surprise, reacting instinctively and raising his arms to keep the boulder from crushing him. He struggled to keep his balance from the impact, staggering for a few seconds before lifting the rock over his head. He could barely hold the boulder up in his arms, holding it with a sweating face and teeth clenched. "W-W-What... is... this...?" he grunted with fatigue, struggling to keep the rock raised.

"Oh? Nice, lad! Very, very nice!" Leonidas complimented him, nodding. "You have considerable strength for a Saber-class."

"And good reflexes, too," Fergus added.

The red-haired young man swallowed, holding the boulder with trembling arms. "Is... this... good... enough ...?" he hissed through clenched teeth, more and more fatigued by the second.

Beowulf grinned. "Oh no. We're just getting started," he declared, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his neck. His bones cracked audibly at the gesture. The eyes of his friends became more solemn and amused at that scene. "It's going to be anything but easy."

An unexpected shadow appeared behind the young Saber all of a sudden.

Shirou turned his head with difficulty, paling visibly at the sight of the large, tall and muscular Servant towering above him.

Beowulf grinned. "Oh? You're here too… Heracles."

---

Merlin hummed, absently leafing through another page of his book in search of the formula he needed. A soft hiss echoed in the air, along with the sound of the slowly boiling liquid in the large phial to his right, connected to numerous test tubes through small, transparent channels. Alchemy books, sheets full of formulas, torn pages and empty vials filled his entire work table. To the right, a huge shelf filled with Bechers and glass containers of all shapes and sizes towered above him, filled with measuring and distillation tools.

As always, the Alchemical Room was full of potions and concoctions of various kind. It was his small, private little world. The place where the famous wizard of Camelot spent almost every second of his time since being summoned here in Chaldea, actually. No one was allowed inside the room except him. Sometimes, and only under special occasions, Medea or Da Vinci would come and give him a hand to make some particular potion or request his help for a complicated formula; but in most cases, he was alone. Not that he cared, after all. He had been alone for a long, long time before, trapped inside the silent tower of Avalon. He was used to it.

Not that it made too much difference for him, actually. Merlin preferred to be alone most of the time. Even in the past, when he still was the most famous and feared wizard of the Court of Camelot, he still preferred to work and study alone, immersed in peace and quiet. The rare occasions where he had shown himself back then were when Artoria needed his advice, major battles and – obviously – his countless love affairs. Speaking of which, not many had ended well. But he couldn't help it. He was a half-incubus, after all. Playing with women, and fire, was in his nature.

The silver-haired wizard smiled. Another couple of minutes under the fire, and then the regenerative formula that Fujimaru had asked him to prepare would finally be completed and ready to be mass produced and used. And that was the only thing he cared about for now. Because once this task was completed, he could finally leave the room…

…and pay a visit to a certain young man who managed to win the heart of his pupil.

Merlin couldn't lie. He was really curious about this boy. He had long known of his existence by now. Artoria did tell him what happened between her and the boy in the past, (he actually forced her to tell him). So, she didn't have a choice but to tell him what they shared during that brief, but intense, Holy Grail War. And the wizard had been pleasantly surprised by the news he received back then. It certainly did not happen every day, after all, to come to know that your pupil had been able to deal with her sins and remorse thanks to a mere young man who, apparently, managed to make her fall in love.

This was something that even he would have never been able to predict. Something that even with his Clairvoyance he could never have discovered before. Artoria barely, if ever, showed an ounce of emotion, even to this day. To learn that she managed to fall in love with someone… with a mere boy that was also a third-rate magus… it was quite the shock indeed. And Merlin, being the peculiar, inquisitive man he is, was absolutely determined to meet this boy. This Shirou Emiya. It was his duty, after all. His responsibility as an advisor of his precious little King.

He knew he was here, now. He heard everything about him just a few hours ago.

And nothing would ever stop him from arranging a little… chat, with him.

The potion was ready after a couple of minutes. Merlin wasted no time. Hurriedly writing the formula on a piece of paper and sending it to the young Master of Chaldea with a mere movement of his hand and a teleportation spell, the Magus of Flowers finally came out of his room at a brisk pace. A mischievous and enigmatic smile curled his lips as he walked through the corridors and halls.

It was time to meet this boy.

He reached his bedroom in just a few minutes. Although he never directly interacted with this 'Shirou', he knew everything about him. He knew the room he had been given, how he looked like, his memory loss, and even the events he had unintentionally caused in the last few hours. His Clairvoyance had this effect, after all.

Merlin smiled as he entered the room without even bothering to knock.

His smile turned into a frown. The room was empty, and the bed untouched. The boy wasn't there. Which was odd. He had expected to find him here, seeing that he was still new and he wasn't familiar with the facility.

Mentally sighing, he just went out and looked for him somewhere else. He was bound to find him, sooner or later. He simply knew it. And yet, his frown grew deeper and deeper as he inspected the main halls and activities of Chaldea one by one, only to realize that the boy was eluding him. Now, the wizard had directly started to grit his teeth in frustration, his face a full mask of irritation and cold displeasure, much to the confusion of every Servant who saw him.

The boy was nowhere to be found.

He checked everything. Dining Room. Cafeteria. Training Room. Gaming Room. Kitchen. Saloon, and even the Underground Levels of the structure. There was no trace of him. This... was unexpected. Merlin didn't want to use his Clairvoyance to track down a mere, simple boy on his second day here. It wouldn't have been fun, as well as fair. Besides, Artoria would probably beat him up into a pulp if she ever discovered that-

Artoria! Of course.

Merlin almost burst out laughing. How naive. Where else could that young man be but with her? He should have known right away. It was obvious that his pupil wouldn't want to lose sight of him now that they were finally reunited. She was surely keeping him close to her. It had to be.

Because if that wasn't the case, his patience would ran out soon. Very, very soon.

Still, his lips couldn't help but smile at that thought. He was happy, really happy, for Artoria. Although he knew that the boy had lost his memories of her, he had also heard that they had reconciled once again. And that her pupil was more than willing to make him fall in love with her. And THIS, this was a something that Merlin was not going to miss for any reason. There was no way he could miss a chance like this. Not in the whole world.

Merlin knew it, after all. Artoria deserved this. She deserved to be happy, and to find someone who could love her and share her burdens with her. She had spent her whole life suffering in silence, desperately trying to bury her emotion because of her role as a King – and Merlin was fully aware that he was partially to blame for this – so, hearing that she was making progress now and was finally moving on with her life was... pleasant to know. Refreshing. It gave him a feeling of relief and pride that not even he expected to feel.

Since when had he become so fond of her?

His lips curved into a faint smile. "Until the very end, you did nothing but endure and persevere," he thought to himself. "I should think that it's fine for you to be rewarded now, no?"

The wizard slowly shook his head as he walked, removing those thoughts out of his mind. Now it was not the time to reflect on the past. He would surely end up being depressed if he did. Even though Merlin always – apparently – seemed to be cheerful, joyful and calm in every situation, it didn't mean that he really was. Even he himself was self-aware about the fact that he is a foreign body in regards to human society; and because of this, he was always determined to stay on the sidelines. He never crossed that last step... the wall called friendship, with anyone.

Ultimately, (just like a child who enjoys tasty food) he simply decided to always watch over and protect the world so that mankind can reach a happy outcome from the shadows, never really interfering with the lives of others.

But now, he was too curious to resist.

He entered Artoria's room with a broad smile and theatrically raised arms. "~Artoria! Your dilgent, favorite and incredibly charming wizard has come to visit you!" he boasted loudly, gleefully, completely ignoring any concepts of privacy and decency. And modesty, too.

Sheer silence greeted his entrance. Merlin waited a few seconds. Then, his eyes opened to see what was happening and blinked in confusion. He had expected to hear Artoria's weary sigh at his antics, or even her indignant screams in case he abruptly interrupted her from sleep or other private activities... but none of that happened – much to his displeasure. It was always funny and amusing to make her angry for no reason.

Instead, the scene he faced was one he had not been expecting. Artoria was currently sitting on the floor, graciously surrounded by her Knights, chatting with them. But that wasn't what surprised him. The particular and definetly unexpected detail on that very same picture of everyday life... was the presence of Mordred, sitting right next to Artoria and intent on looking at him with wide and confused eyes. Artoria and the other Knights also turned to look at him with exasperated expressions.

"...Merlin, don't you ever contemplate the idea of knocking before entering my room, do you?" the blonde King sighed, shaking her head with an exaggerated movement.

The wizard was silent for several moments. Then he blinked again. His arms fell smoothly along his sides. "Oya?" he mused, observing Mordred with a confused look. "I wasn't expecting this."

Lancelot scoffed with a small grin upon hearing this. "That would be a first."

"Indeed... it's not often that something takes me by surprise," Merlin admitted, putting a hand to his chin as he watched the scene with obvious disappointment. He took two steps forward, towering over Mordred and observing her with an inquisitive and curious gaze. The female knight narrowed her eyes at him. "Her presence here... I take is due to something that happened recently?"

Artoria nodded, putting one hand on her sons own. The woman smiled seeing her flustered face. Merlin widened his eyes. "It is. I made peace with Mordred just a little while ago," she explained. "We were just finshing to clear all the misunderstandings between us."

Merlin held his breath, thrilled. "Y-You made peace with her?" he exclaimed in turn, stuttering a little. His eyes widened even more. "And you didn't tell me?" he added dramatically. He felt deeply wronged by this.

The King of Knights looked at him with a blank expression. "You hardly ever leave your room," she retorted promptly, making him flinch with that statement. "If you deigned to come out from it more often instead of observing everything with your Clairvoyance, maybe you would have learned that many things have happened during the last few hours."

"...damn, I'm getting rusty at this," the wizard sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "I just missed one hell of a show! I won't ever forgive myself!" He even shed a tear after saying that.

Bedivere chuckled. "Come on, Merlin. Aren't you happy that her majesty has finally made peace with Mordred?" he asked cheerfully, trying to brighten the mood.

The Magus of Flowers nodded slowly, looking back at the Knight of Treachery. "Indeed, that's quite the surprise," he admitted. His lips then parted in a wide grin that was anything but reassuring. "I guess this gives me the chance to learn everything about her… we didn't really have many interactions during our past, did we?" he asked her with a sly smile.

Mordred took a suspicious frown at his words. "Don't get any strange ideas, wizard," she said slowly. "I'm not exactly fond of mages. You'd better not get on my bad side, or I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Merlin just widened his grin, laughing at her. "Now, now… don't be like that, Mordred. A cute girl like you shoudn't frown and threaten others with such unlady-like words, don't you agree?"

That sentence made her stiffen all of a sudden. "…what did you just say?" she muttered, her eyes turning ferocious.

The wizard just blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

"What did you call me!?" the female knight roared suddently, getting up from the floor and summoning her sword. Her face was literally a mask of rage, outrage and anger. She even took a menancig step towards the wizard, more than willing to kick his ass after that outrageous declaration towards her. "No one can call me a girl and live to talk about it!"

Merlin visibly paled, taking two quick steps backwards to distance himself from the threatening girl who wanted to skin him alive. He even hid behind Tristan, watching the female knight with apprehension while using the red-haired man as a shield.

Luckily for him, Artoria decided to go to his rescue. The blonde woman put a gentle hand on Mordred's arm, urging her to stay still. "Calm down, Mordred. There is no need to make a scene here. Don't give too much weight to Merlin's words. He's just like that, although even I have to admit that he can be extremely annoying from time to time," she said slowly, giving an exasperated look at her old mentor.

That sentence made him laugh nervously. "Ahaha... you're so harsh with me these days, Artoria..." he sighed, scratiching his neck.

Mordred hesitated for a while, still fuming with rage, glaring at the mischievous wizard for a couple of seconds with a growl. But then, slowly, she decided to let it slide and dissolved her sword. She sat back on the floor with a scowl, trying to calm her nerves while her father slowly stroked her back in gratitude. She didn't stop glaring at the man, though. Bedivere, Tristan and the others chuckled at that scene.

Seeing that he was not going to die and return to Avalon today, Merlin let out a loud sigh of relief. His smile returned once again as he watched the unexpected interaction between Mordred and Artoria. "I see. This is quite the pleasant surprise. But, if I may ask, how did it come to this, exactly?" he asked, addressing everyone with a raised eyebrow.

Lancelot looked at him with obvious confusion. "You don't know? Someone voiced for Mordred and asked our King to talk with her," he aswered.

That seemed to confuse the wizard even more. Bedivere chuckled. "Indeed. It was thanks to our King's lover. He agreed to interact and try to reconnect with her, as long as the two of them tried to make peace with each other," he explained simply.

Merlin hesitated, narrowing his eyes. "Did he, now?" he mused, frowning inwardly. He put a hand to his chin as he thought to himself. "So it's that boy's doing, huh. But how did he manage to make them reconcile after all this time? He hasn't even been here for twenty-four hours, and he already managed to do something like this without me knowing..." That boy was getting more and more interesting by the second. Now he had to meet him, at any cost.

He turned his attention back to the people in the room. "And are you guys ok with this?" he questioned them further, curious.

Gawain sighed heavily, casting a stern look at Mordred. "As long as she doesn't do anything bad or unworthy of the Code and our King, we will not object," he merely said, crossing his arms sternly.

Mordred looked at him with narrowed eyes. "How generous of you," she muttered with sarcasm, making the blond knight glare at her. But a single glance from Artoria made both of them shut their mouth promptly.

Merlin watched that scene with a knowing gaze, slowly crossing his arms with a decisive movement. As fun as it was to see the Knights bickering with each other, he had another interest now. Another goal to reach. "Speaking of the boy... where is he?" he asked out aloud. He took a look at the room, knowing it was useless. "I came here with the intention of meeting him, but it is evident that my efforts have been in vain."

Artoria raised an eyebrow with royal grace. "Maybe he is just walking around Chaldea?" she asked back.

"I've been looking everywhere, but I haven't been able to find him so far," the wizard promptly retorted, his face visibly displeased. Why the hell was it so hard for him to find a mere boy? Him, the great and famous wizard Merlin? He shot a confused glance at his pupil. "I thought you wouldn't want to lose sight of him now that you're finally back together."

The King of Knights blushed furiously, sticking her gaze on her hands that were resting on her thighs, looking the very definition of bashful. "O-Of course not! I'm not some kind of p-possessive lover..." she stuttered awkwardly, embarassed.

"Somehow, I doubt that…" he inwardly mused. Then, he sighed in resignation as he summoned his staff with a twitch of his hand. "I have no choice then. I'll have to use my Clairvoyance to-"

"You will not." Artoria solemnly declared. Merlin swallowed and turned pale, holding back a tired sigh in front of the determined and cold expression that the blonde woman was giving him. Her eyes were effectively murderous. "I've told you many times not to use your Foresight to spy on me and my friends. Shirou is no exception. I won't let you spy on him against his will."

Merlin merely smiled. "...you really do care about him," he noted with interest.

Artoria blushed, but she kept her head high. "He is my future consort. Of course I do," she declared, firm and adamant in her statement. The Knights smiled at that scene, and even Mordred seemed to cheer a little.

That only seemed to make him more frustrated. "To actually manage to make her say something like this… boy, you'd better come to me soon; ore else…" he thought with irritation, shaking his head.

Mordred decided to put an end to that discussion. "Worry not, crazy old wizard. That guy promised to come to dinner with us later. You can meet him there," she said simply, glaring at him. "But you'd better not do something to him, once you met him. I will shove Clarent up your ass, if you only dare," she declared menacingly, with perceptible decision and – the wizard almost gaped when he felt it – dedication and care in her tone.

That statement made him pause. Merlin hesitated, his body suddently stiff. He glanced at Artoria, and he did not fail to notice that she had the exact same menacing look as her son. She was glaring at him, silently ordering him not to cause trouble for her beloved. Just like Mordred.

His lips twitched, mouth curving into a scowl.

"That's not possible. That didn't just happen."

Mordred and Artoria were both defending Shirou? He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. How the hell was that possible? How in the world did that guy manage to gain the affection and trust not only of Artoria – which was already a great feat in itself – but of Mordred as well? A rebel Knight feared and shunned by almost everyone because of her temper and arrogance? It couldn't be true. His instincts were lying to him. It simply wasn't possible.

This boy… who the hell was he? What was he? To be able to do something like this… he had to be something close to a god of seduction! Even he wouldn't be able to tame a girl like Mordred in less than a day! It was literally impossible! He had to get answers, he had to know. Right now.

Merlin smiled with barely hidden irritation. "I see. I shall tag along with you, then. I usually don't like crowded palaces like the Dining Room… but I will make an exeption for this," he said through gritted teeth, clenching a fists behind his back. His grip on his staff visibly tightened, too. Artoria and the others looked at him strangely, confused by his weird behaviour. What the hell was wrong with him? But they didn't care that much. Merlin was always weird. There was no need to worry about what he could be thinking inside that head of his.

In the end, they simply chose to let his behaviour slide. Artoria slowly rose from the floor. "We should go, then," she said, her lips curving in an excited smile at the thought of seeing her beloved again. She glanced at her son with barely contained glee, offering her a hand. "It's almost dinner time. Let's not waste time here. It's gonna be our first dinner together, after all."

Mordred grinned back, nodding at her father as she took her hand and rose frome the ground. The others Knights visibly smiled, happy to finally see those two get along with each other after all this time, and started to follow them outside the room.

Merlin followed as well, with a frown on his face.

---

"…I don't seem to understand what you're saying, Berserker."

Heracles growled softly, shaking his head in a slow motion. His stern face was contracted into a frown as he watched the red-haired young man walking (limping) beside him. He merely grumbled something incomprehensible, putting a hand in Shirou's hair – a hand three times bigger than a normal human's hand – and patting his head slowly. The boy looked at him with a tired gaze full of confusion.

Beowulf laughed. "He's saying he's sorry, kid," he decided to explain, grinning along with Leonidas and Fergus as they walked next to the boy and the tall Berserker. "He didn't mean to hit you that hard during the fight. He didn't really want to make you crash into the side of the mountain with that punch."

Shirou laughed nervously with a tired chuckle. "I-It's ok, really. I'm not mad. It was my fault. I should have been more alert during the last sparring session," he said, trying to reassure the grumbling giant next to him. He was too tired to actually bother about that last punch. Right now, he was too exhausted to even care, actually.

The five of them were heading back to the main halls of Chaldea, walking along the white corridors now that their 'training' was finally over. Shirou almost sighed at the memory. The training session Leonidas had come up with had been anything but easy for him. He literally spent the last four hours lifting boulders, doing push-ups on a board balanced between a cliff and air, and – in the end – fighting. It had been extremely tiring. The fight was only the final part of the training. And what a fight it had been… He had been literally thrown into the snow, knocked on the ground, hit by stone and rock, and thrown into a mountain during the sparring session. By now, he could no longer feel the muscles in his arms, and his legs and back ached with every movement of his body.

The young man mentally promised to never do this kind of training again.

"I must say, I'm even more impressed now," Leonidas declared all of a sudden, patting Shirou on the shoulder with a proud grin on his face. "You lasted way longer than I expected, lad. I see that your muscles aren't just for show, huh?"

Shirou merely smiled, too tired to answer the compliment. He still hadn't figured out why those three were so fixated on muscles, but he didn't really care, actually. They weren't bad people, albeit a little strange. But all he wanted right now was to eat, relax, and go to bed. He didn't have the strength to talk or think about anything else.

When they finally arrived to the Sleeping Quarters; Leonidas, Heracles and the others began to head towards a corridor to the right. Shirou, instead, headed for the one on the left. His room was on the other side of the quarters, it seemed. "We''ll go take a shower now. See you around, kid," Leonidas waved at him, giving him a thumbs up and a grin. "Feel free to come and find us if you want to train again!"

Shirou laughed nervously. "I'll think about it," he replied, waving at them as they smiled in appreciation. Even Heracles was was making a strange twitch on his lips similar to a smile. "But don't count on it," he mentally added.

Left alone, he went into his room and quickly took a shower in the private bathroom. Once he was clean and dressed again, he walked out of the room and made his way to the Dining Room with a tired sigh. He promised to Mordred that he would have dinner with her before the two of them got separated, before lunch. He assumed he would find her there by now. Dinner already started half an hour ago. He was late for it, again.

His lips curled into a smile as he walked. "I hope things went well between Mordred and Artoria," he thought at that point. In his mind, even if he didn't really know why, he was sure they did. After all, Mordred wasn't really a bad or evil person. He knew it. She didn't hate her father either. All she wanted was to be acknowledged by her, actually. And Artoria seemed to be an understanding and gentle person too, given how their last meeting went. He was sure they could be able to reconcile if they really tried. He was sure of it.

Tired and deep in thought, he turned a corner on the right, but he was so distracted that he didn't realize that he was about to bump into another Servant. He blinked, shaking himself out of his trance just a second before he could hit the other person. He quickly took a step back, abashed, with the other doing the same. "I-I'm sorry, I was distracted," he hastly apologized, looking to the female Servant he almost bumped into. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"I-It's fine, it's fine," the girl replied with a sheepish grin, shaking her head. "We didn't really hit each other, so it's ok. Don't worry. I'm fi-"

The woman stopped suddently. Shirou sighed with relief for a moment, then his eyes quickly moved to study the girl in front of him, confused by her sudden silence. The Servant looked like a young woman with violet hair and eyes, wearing a blue silk sari wraped opon her waist area and a blue blouse with short sleeves. She was also wearing a golden circlet around her head, with a strange lance that resembled a trident firmly grasped in her right hand. She was looking at him with wide, stunned eyes; her face a mask of stupor and shock.

"S-Senpai?" she whispered, staring at his face intently.

Shirou blinked, confused. "I'm sorry?"

The woman almost gaped at him. "I can't believe it…" she whispered, still looking as shocked as before while she continued to stare at his body from head to toe. "It is you! The same boy this vessel used to fancy and love…"

That made him pause. Instantly. The young man almost screamed inside his head while his complexion paled even more. "…no. Please no," he pleaded in his mind, panicking. "Please tell me this is not another girl who I used to know and who has feelings for me…"

He swallowed audibly. "D-Do you know me?" he then asked, slow and terrified.

The girl smiled. A smile full of joy, elation and sincerity. "I do! You're Shirou-Senpai! What a surprise! This vessel of mine was deeeeply in love with you during her life! I can still feel my emotions flutter when I look at your face, even now!" she declared without hesitation, laughing softly at his panicked face.

Shirou blanched. "…oh God. No way…"

The womand laughed again, even more amused than before. "Don't worry, don't worry! That was in the past! I'm not even her, actually. I'm a Pseudo-Servant. I'm just possessing this body," she then explained quickly, reassuring him with a wave of her hand. Her face become more serious at this point, even if she never lost her smile. "My name is Parvati, Goddess of Beauty, Devotion and Love. I am the faithful wife of the great lord Shiva, God of Destruction and Rebirth. I was summoned here as a Lancer-class Servant. It's very nice to meet you… Shirou."

Hearing this, the boy sighed in relief. He even brought a hand to his chest, exhaling a heavy breath as he visibly calmed down after that explanation. "That's... good," he said slowly, before regaining his composure and nodding to her. "Yes. That's my name. Shirou Emiya. I'm a Demi-Servant too, actually. A Saber. The blacksmith Sengo Muramasa gave me his powers. I was supposed to be him, originally, but he decided to give me full control in the end," he slowly explained. He then gave her a quizzical look, tilting his head to the side. "So, how did our vessels meet in the past?"

The woman, Parvati, looked at him with confusion. "You don't remember? This girl, Sakura, was your friend during your school days. She even came to your house very often for breakfast and dinner," she replied, watching him closely.

Shirou raised an eyebrow. "I see. But, didn't you hear about me? I have memory loss. I can't remember my life. I thought everyone here knew, by now."

Parvati shook her head. "I just came back from a mission. I didn't even know we had a new Servant, actually. That's something I didn't expect. There hasn't been a new summoning in almost three months," she answered. She then offered him a sad smile. "I'm sorry to hear about your condition. It must to be tough for you to live without remembering your identity."

The red-haired boy gave her a bitter smile. "Yeah. It's not very pleasant. Especially when you meet people who know you and are happy to see you, but you have no idea of who they are and what they want from you. It's... scary, really. And sad too," he admitted with a low voice, looking down to the ground.

The goddess hesitated for a moment or two. "I'm sorry. Did I make you sad with my presence?" she asked slowly.

Shirou shook his head, giving her a calmer smile. "It's fine. You're not the first one I had a similar scene with. You should have been here when King Arthur kissed me right in front of everyone last night. That was really something I didn't expect."

Parvati's eyes widened slightly. "Saber..." her expression became understanding at that point. "I see. She still loves you, after all. She must be devastated by this," she said softly.

"…I imagine. We made peace this morning, and I apolgized to her. But I still don't know what to do with her. How to look at her, even," he admitted, his expression tense and sad at the same time.

The woman with violet hair and eyes touched his arm gently. "…are you gonna be ok?"

He nodded slowly. "I will. I just… need some time to sort things out," he answered. Then he shook his head, offering a small smile to the goddess. "I'm sorry I started to vent about this with you. I will be fine now."

Parvati shook her head too. "It's fine, really," she reassured him with a soft and gentle voice. Her face lit up slightly after that, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you going to the Dining Room too? We can go together, if you'd like," she offered with a cheerful gaze.

Shirou smiled. "I don't mind," he replied simply with a nod.

Then, the two young Servants began to walk side by side along the structure, heading towards the largest room in Chaldea. During the journey they exchanged only a few words, deciding to share their short journey in a pleasant silence and a calm quiet. This, however, until the woman noticed a little detail on the other Servant.

"Hey... are you okay?" she asked him suddenly, looking at the red-haired young man with a worried look. "You're... You're limping. And your face looks terrible, too."

Shirou winced, smiling with a little difficulty. "It's fine, really. I just had a very hard training session a while ago, and my body is still recovering. There's no reason to worry," he explained, trying to act strong despite the slight pain he felt with each step.

The woman didn't seem convinced. "Here. Stay still," she ordered, pulling him to a halt in the middle of the hall and putting a hand on his chest.

The young man raised an eyebrow, confused by her gesture. He was about to open his mouth and say he was fine, when he suddenly noticed something. A strange green light was starting to glow from Parvati's hand, and little by little, the light began to pervade his chest and his whole body, making him glow softly with a warm, soft light. The boy watched in wonder as the woman continued to inject prana into him, and as the seconds passed, the pain in his body faded more and more. Finally, after about two minutes, the purple-haired woman removed her hand from his chest and looked at him with a smile.

"How do you feel now?" she asked with a knowing smile.

Flexing his arms and observing his body with a confused look, Shirou's eyes widened slightly. "It doesn't hurt," he realized, surprised. "I still feel fatigued, but my body doesn't ache anymore." His eyes moved to look at her in amazement. "How did you do it? You said you are a Lancer. How did you cure me without being a Caster?"

Parvati smiled proudly. "It's one of my skills: Divine Core of the Goddess! It's a skill that expresses my status of a perfect goddess from birth, closer to the Divinity skill! It preserves the absoluteness of the mind, and it allows me to repel pain from my body, or the body of others!" she explained, crossing her arms with pride. She gave him a little wink after that. "You're welcome, by the way!"

Shirou chuckled nervously, scratching his neck with embarrassment. "A-Ah... sorry. I'm grateful for what you've done. I really am," he thanked her immediately after, sincere. He even made a little bow with his head.

Parvati smiled kindly. "It's fine! As a Goddes of Devotion, it's my duty to help others when they are in need!" she said sincerely. Then, with another wink, she looked at the young man with an amused smile. "Besides, my vessel was in love with you. She certainly wouldn't have wanted to see you suffer for such a trivial thing. Consider my gesture as a favor from Sakura!"

The boy smiled nervously. "Please, give me a break," he mentally pleaded.

Without giving him time to say more, however, Parvati simply grabbed him by the wrist and resumed walking down the corridor, dragging him to their destination with a happy smile without wasting any more time. That day, Shirou learned another lesson.

Gods are weird.

---

Merlin was bored.

The Dining Room was full of Servants, as usual. It was a continuous coming and going of people, along with a constant mix of noises and smells that followed one another incessantly. The shouting and laughter from the other tables was audibly loud and clear, along with the noise of the kitchen staff who cooked quickly and endlessly. The wizard was not very fond of this place. As everyone who knew him could say, he preferred peace and silence. And yet, now, for this occasion, he had no choice but to come here.

As he watched the people talk next to him, his eyebrow continued to twitch every few seconds. To his right, Artoria sat in a composed and regal manner, patiently waiting as she talked to Jeanne and Isthar who sat right across from her. To his left, Mordred was nervously trying to interact with Bedivere and the other Knights, discussing something trivial about food and swordsmanship as they too waited to eat. And, as funny as it was to look at the embarrassed and tense face of the Knight of Treachery, that was not what he had come here for.

The Wizard of Flowers was becoming increasingly irritated.

"...he sure is late," Lancelot said, voicing the common thought of all the people seated at their table.

Jeanne looked at the worried face of Artoria. "Maybe he simply got lost?" she suggested.

"Hardly. He's been here already. There's no way he would get lost so easly," Tristan merely shrugged, looking disinterested but confused at the same time. "Maybe he forgot?"

Mordred scowled. "No way! He would never forget! I'd kick his sorry ass if he really did!" she grumbled with a scowl.

"Mordred," Artoria glanced at her, making the female knight flinch. "We talked about this. You need to watch your language. You are a Knight, and so you must behave like one," she reminded her seriously.

Her son pouted, nodding softly while she grumbled under her breath. "...yes, Father."

That scene almost made him laugh. Merlin casted an amused look at his pupil and her son. Mordred seemed so docile now that she was in Artoria's presence. Almost like she was afraid to disappoint her, or anger her. She wasn't even paying attention to Gawain's mocking gaze. Perhaps what he had always suspected was true, then. Maybe that child really did hide a good heart behind her foul mouth and her temper, after all. He was glad to see they cleared up their misunderstandings, then. Maybe from now on things would get better for everyone. He really hoped so.

"Look! There he is!" Jeanne suddently exclaimed at that moment, pointing to her left.

Merlin's head turned towards the direction indicated by the young woman, as well as everyone else's. His eyes narrowed. His target was right there, a few meters away, and he looked exactly like he had seen him before through his Clairvoyance. Short and messy red hair, golden brown eyes, and Asian features. He was walking towards them with a tray full of food in his hands, his face tired and some strange dark bags under his eyes. Merlin merely raised an eyebrow at that. What happened to him? He looked exhausted.

But he didn't pay much attention to that, now. What really, really caught his attention was the person, the woman, who was accompanying him, intent on talking to him with a cheerful smile and a joyful expression. His mind froze in suspicion at that vision. It couldn't be…

"Shirou? What happened to you?" Artoria rose from her seat immediately, rushing in front of the boy and touching his face with a worried expression. "You look awful," she whispered, caressing his cheeks with her fingers right in front of everyone.

Merlin saw the young man blush and turn his eyes away from the blonde girl. He felt his gaze narrowing even further at that. "I-I'm fine, really!" the boy stuttered, laughing nervously. "I'm just a little tired, that's all!"

The wizard held back an amused smile as he saw the care on Artoria's eyes as she gazed at the face of the young man. She really loved him, huh? His lips parted to say something, but he didn't make it in time.

"Wait, Parvati?" Isthar exclaimed, confused. Everyone's eyes rested on the purple-haired woman next to Shirou. "You're already back from mission?"

Parvati smiled at the other goddess. "Isthar-san. Yes, the Singularity was small, and pretty easy to deal with," she replied cheerfully, in a soft, gentle voice. Her eyes flickered to the boy next to Artoria. "And I also met a certain person on my way here. I was really shocked! I never thought I'd see Senpai again, let alone here in Chaldea!"

Artoria sighed after hearing that. "I figured you would remember him too. You still posses Sakura's memories," she slowly admitted.

The goddess smiled. "Can I join you guys? If it's not a bother, of course," she asked immediately afterwards, smiling innocently at them. Merlin was almost tempted to answer and 'play' a little with her, but he stopped himself immediately. Even though he was a half-incubus, he wasn't stupid. He knew that fooling around with goddesses was dangerous. Very, very dangerous; even for him. His past experiences with Isthar, Ereshkigal and Quetzalcoatl had clearly shown this to him. Heck, after meeting Jaguar Warrior and – especially – that cold mannered Vivian, he had started avoiding Divine Spirits too.

He liked to play with fire, but he didn't want to die yet.

Isthar nodded with a smile. "Yeah, come sit next to me! We haven't seen each other for quite a while, now," she conceded with a grin.

As the two goddesses sat close to each other, Merlin kept his eyes glued on Shirou. Artoria made him sit in the seat she had promptly saved for him, right next to her. The boy sat down awkwardly and hesitantly under the gaze of all the Knights, pausing only to give Mordred a weary smile. The female knight returned the smile with a grin, bumping a fist with him. Artoria sat down next to him with a beaming expression instead. Merlin narrowed his eyes, his mind growing colder. Without knowing why, that scene was irritating him more and more.

As soon as Shirou took his seat, Mordred raised an eyebrow at him. "Wow, you look like someone who just got beat the shit out of him. What the hell did you do until now? You're late," she asked him.

Shirou chuckled nervously with a tired face. "...remind me to never train with Leonidas or Heracles again," he replied simply. The other Knights cringed upon hearing this, offering him a sympathetic look. They knew very well what he was referring to.

But then, the young man seemed to lighten up slightly. His eyes widened little by little. "Wait... you two!" he exclaimed in amazement, looking at Artoria and Mordred who were sitting close to each other on the very same table. "Y-You're... sitting here? Together? How? D-Does this mean...?"

He was not very bright and attentive, Merlin mused. Or, maybe, he was simply too exausted to notice that obvious detail until now.

Artoria offered him a sweet smile. "That's right, Shirou," she replied slowly. The boy seemed to lighten up as he looked into the embarrassed face of the Knight of Treachery while the King spoke. "Me and Mordred talked to each other, and we cleared all the misunderstandings between us. We made peace now."

His reaction was interesting. His face visibly relaxed, and his shoulders slumped in relief and weariness soon after. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off him. A tired but sincere smile curved his lips. "…I'm glad," he finally said, his face filled with relief. He even moved a hand to ruffle Mordred's hair. That made him pause. Merlin expected to see her explode in rage, but the girl simply remained quiet and half-glred at him with a pout – much to Merlin's inner amazement. So it is true…

His irritation was reaching extreme levels. He couldn't resist any longer.

Merlin forced a smile on his face. "I must say, you're a bit different from what I expected, boy," he then began to say, slowly getting up from the table and approaching him with a firm step. His smile widened when he saw the young man turn his head towards him with a confused expression. "It's about time we met. I have long waited to talk to you, face to face."

Shirou watched him for some time. Merlin continued to stare at him with an amused smile. He blatantly ignored the suspicious looks from Artoria and Mordred, along with the stares of everyone on the table, waiting only for the young man's response.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, after a couple of seconds of silence.

His smile widened. "I suppose it's fair to introduce myself first. Very well then, you may call me Merlin. I am the handsome, renowned, and absolutely charming Wizard of Flowers," he declared cheerfully, making a small bow and summoning his staff with a burst of pink petals. "I once was the court magician of Camelot, as well as the previous advisor and mentor of our dear little Arthur here," he proptly ignored the blonde girl's indignat glare. "It's sooo nice to finally meet you, boy."

Again, his declaration was meet with sheer silence. The wizard raised an eyebrow at the red-haired young man's blank face. "Oya? Are you not amazed yet?" he asked, barely amused.

Far from amazed, Shirou was looking at him as if he was an enigma. He supposed he had a point. All the boy was seeing was a man who wore dazzling white robes, with long silver hair cascading on his back, a few bangs that fell near his grey coloured eyes and a smooth face. There was only one term to describe this man: pretty.

"I see…" was all he said. Shirou slowly rose from his seat as well, bowing a little to the tall wizard. "Then I'm pleased to meet you, wizard. I'm Shirou, even if I suspect that you already knew that."

Merlin rased an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to ask why I approached you?"

"I can guess that you wouldn't tell me anyway," Shirou replied with a serious gaze. "We've just met, but you seem like the kind of person who hides a lot of secrets and intentions."

"I see, I see," Merlin nodded his head. "I suppose my evaluation of you was a tad off. I suppose I can remove 'naive' from the assessment, then."

Artoria glared at him. Mordred too. This only made him more irritated. "Merlin…" the King warned.

The wizard dismissed her with a wave of his hand. He narrowed his eyes at the smirking face of the red-haired man. "Stop that," he intantly ordered. "I don't know why, but seeing that smile on your face is quite off putting. Maybe it's because you're not a woman."

Shirou closed his eyes, sitting back at the table. "Fair enough," he conceded.

Merlin was not amused. "However, to answer to your unspoken question, the reason I have approached you is quite simple," he began to say, looking at him with that strange smile from before. "Curiosity. You, boy, are a person that even I, the greatest Wizard in Chaldea, am unable to read and comprehend fully. The reason for this is that you managed to win my pupil's heart... a feat that even I would have thought impossible to achieve. For anyone."

The effect was immediate. Shirou visibly hesitated, with a blush growing on his cheeks while he looked down at his food with a lost gaze. Artoria, on the other hand, was blushing madly, staring at the wizard with wide, incredulous eyes full of silent rage and mouth agape. She was even stammering incoherently, deeply embarrassed by the statement he had made not only in front of Shirou, but also in front of his Knights and friends. This was not what she was expecting, for sure. The wizard inwardly smiled. It was always amusing to tease her. He simply couldn't help it.

"It's too bad that you lost your memeories," Merlin continued, shaking his head in disappointment. "I would have loved to talk with you and hear what you did in order to make this child open up to you…"

Artoria was about to pass out from the rush of blood on her face. Shirou hesitated as he glanced at her, still unsure of what to say on that subject.

Mordred had had enough. "Oi, crazy old wizard! Stop it already! You're making them uncomfortable!" she growled furiously, rounding on him with a full-fledged glare.

Merlin laughed. "Now, now, calm down. I'm sorry, ok?" he apologized, not feeling guilty at all. He sat down on his seat as well, smiling innocently under the accusing gazes of all the Servants around the table. Even the kind-hearted Jeanne d'Arc was looking at him with disappointment. "I was just being honest, really."

"You shouldn't inquire on other people's feelings," Parvati said with a shake of her head. "As a goddess of love, I feel ashamed for you. Now I understand why all the women who have been in a relationship with you hate you."

Merlin inwardly cringed, his smile faltering a little. Ok, that hurt a little. He was a little mischievous – and just a tiny bit unfaithful – but he wasn't that bad... was he?

"She's right! Leave Emiya-kun alone! What he did during his past is not your business!" Isthar exclaimed as well, crossing her arms in solemn irritation.

Merlin's heart froze instantly.

No... No, it can't be... That's impossible…

The wizard rounded on the mesopotamian goddess with frightening swiftness, his eyes wide and his expression distressed. The smile on his face was gone. He seemed incredulous now, and shocked, and outraged and inquisitive at the same time. "Y-You? You're defending him?" he exclaimed with shock, stunned. His eyes also flickered to the purple-haired goddess next to Isthar with panic and disbelief. "Don't tell me your vessels had feelings for him too?"

The reaction of the two goddesses only made him mentally scream. Parvati lowered her eyes, visibly ashamed and flustered while she played with her hair. Isthar, instead, blushed violently all of a sudden, even starting to stammer incoherently and wave her arms wildly. "W-W-Whaaa!? What are you s-saying!?" she squeaked, her voice higher than usual. Small spinning spirals formed into her eyes soon after.

Merlin gaped, feeling utterly wronged by the revelation.

First Artoria… then Mordred… and now even these two…?

It wasn't possible!

Merlin had enough.

The wizard gritted his teeth. He rounded once again, raising from his seat with an impressive speed and appearing in less than a second behind Shirou. The young man could only blink in confusion before he found Merlin's hands pressing on his shoulders. The wizard was observing him with his wide, incredulous and inquisitive eyes fixed on him, his face a mask panic and jealousy. Shirou looked at him in sheer confusion.

"How?" he demanded, looking utterly stunned, jealous and shocked at the same time. He was shaking his shoulders, pressing on him insistently. "How did you do it? What did you do!?"

Merlin refused to accept it. He could not believe that this boy was left unscathed while handling not two, not three, but even four women at the same time. It simply wasn't possible!

How did he manage to do something like this? How does he possibily work this fast? What kind of godly Skill did he possess in womanizing? Merlin was an half-incubus, but not even he was able to attract so many women at the same time! There had to be an explanation! A spell, an Ability, or even a magic Skill that he did not yet knew of! And – most importantly – was it learnable? Whatever the case, he was determined to obtain it, at any cost. He had to!

On his part, Shirou stared at him with mouth slightly agape, furrowed brows and a growing feeling of panic. He was utterly confused with what Merlin wanted, completely unaware of his intentions and motives. He tried to ask what he meant, but-

SLAM!

Merlin froze instantly. With a trembling movement and wide eyes, the wizard turned his head to the right, carefully watching Artoria's shaking body and her dark expression hidden by her bangs. A heavy, oppressive aura was surrounding her head, giving her a grim appearance. The table had a visible crack on the point where she had punched it, urging him to stay quiet.

The Magus of Flowers swallowed nervously. If there was one thing Merlin knew from his past with her, it was that Artoria Pendragon was quick to temper, despite what she would tell you if asked. She didn't outright express such feelings in any noticeable way, being used to bottling up her troubles and emotions during her upbringing and her role as the King of Britain. It would sometimes be a twitch of her fingers, before realising that making a fist would be too noticeable and stopping immediately. Or, it could also be a slight burrowing of her eyebrows, barely enough to be noticed by anyone that was not in her inner circle of friends and family.

But in extreme cases she would result in gnashing of teeth and unsaid curses that wouldn't – and shouldn't – be uttered from the King's lips.

Which goes without saying that right at this moment, with that vicious snarl on her previously flushed and red-coloured face, Artoria Pendragon was livid.

Merlin blanched, sweating profusely.

"…get off of him," she ordered through gritted teeth, staring at the wizard with a murderous gaze. "If you dare bother him again with these useless questions, I will reduce you to dust." Her tone was genuinely terrifying as she spoke.

She didn't have to repeat it twice. Merlin quickly left Shirou without saying a word, returning to his seat and sitting down at the table in less than a second. His face was white as a bone and he was still sweating with terror. He resumed eating as if nothing had happened, ignoring the world and remaining utterly silent after that scene.

He still felt wronged, though.

The others at the table were as stunned as he was. They were looking at Artoria with obvious concern and a hint of fear. Even Shirou had turned paler than normal, as he glanced nervously at the woman while she tried to calm down with deep breaths.

But then, suddenly, Artoria turned to him and took his hand into hers. "Don't worry," she said soothingly, smiling softly at his stunned face. "I won't let that useless wizard bother you again. I promise."

Shirou looked at her, completely thrilled for several seconds, before relaxing slightly and blushing with embarrassment. Despite this, however, the young man gave the woman a sincere smile, seriously moved by her dedication to him. "T-Thank you," he told her softly. His cheeks were tinged with red as he watched her with gratitude and shyness.

The King of Knights widened her smile, looking at him with adoring eyes.

The table was silent for a long time. Then, little by little, everyone calmed down and started to chat again to each other, with Mordred who began discussing swordsmanship and future training with Shirou while Artoria watched them with amusement and a quiet laugh. Merlin, on the other hand, did not speak for the rest of the time.

It was the quietest dinner he would ever remember.

---

"Y-You didn't have to personally escort me back to my room…" Shirou said nervously, looking at her with an apologetic gaze.

Artoria simply shook her head. "It's fine, Shirou. It's nothing worth apologizing for. Actually, I want to. I wouldn't be able to relax without seeing you return to your room without further interruptions, given how tired you are," she assured him with a smile.

"I-I see," was all the young man managed to say, scratching his neck with embarrassment.

Their walk through the corridors of Chaldea was silent after that exchange of words. The red-haired boy was too embarrassed – and exhausted – to be able to say anything, and Artoria simply chose to remain in a comfortable silence. They walked in silence, side by side, with a slow pace. Every now and then, as they advanced trough the halls and corridors, Artoria would glance at him with a few worried looks to make sure he was okay.

It was inevitable that she would do this. She couldn't hold back her concern. After Shirou almost passed out from fatigue during dinner without any warning, it had been unanimously decided to send him to bed. He was too worn-out to be able to even sit without falling asleep, after all. And Artoria, obviously, had offered to accompany him to make sure he would arrive safely. Or, should we say, decided. She wouldn't have accepted any other compromise, under any circumstances.

"Shirou… I'm sorry about Merlin," she suddently said at some point. The blonde King clenched her fists in irritation as she walked next to him. "He's irritating, annoying, and mischievous... but he has a good heart. I'll talk to him personally, and tell him not to bother you anymore."

Shirou chuckled. "It's fine, don't worry. He didn't bother me that much, really. There's no need for such drastic measures," he reassured her immediately, his expression even more tired than before. At that moment he was so exhausted that he didn't even have the strength to care about that man. He barely even understood what he wanted from him, actually. He guessed he was simply weird.

Artoria looked at him for several seconds before smiling shyly. Her cheeks turned a little red. "You know... I'm really looking forward to our date tomorrow. I really am," she admitted quietely, folding her hands together and looking down with a bashful smile.

Despite his weariness, the red-haired boy couldn't keep the blush from his face after her bold declaration. He glanced at her with wide eyes, stuttering a little before scratching his uncovered arm with embarrassment. "O-Oh... I s-see. That's..." he visibly hesitated after that, unsure of what to say. "T-That's good."

The King of Knights looked at him with a sad smile. "...you're not looking forward to it as well, huh?" she deduced, unable to hold back a hint of sadness in her voice.

"N-NO!" he exclaimed quickly – perhaps too quickly – looking at her hesitantly but sincerely. "That's not it! It's just... it will be my very first date. Well, t-the first one I'll actually remember… and I just... I just..." he tried to say, sounding more and more dejected by the second.

She looked at him with obvious worry at his hesitant expression. "What is it?" she asked gently.

Shirou turned to her with an expression of pure uncertainty. He looked almost panicked. "S-Should I dress up for it? Or bring something? Or prepare something for you? I-I don't even know if I can find some clothes or gifts around here! A-Are there any flowers here in Chaldea? And-And then..."

Artoria stared at him blankly. Then, she began to laugh. Shirou blinked, confused by her strange reaction, and watched her with wide eyes as she giggled loudly while covering her lips with one hand, completely amused by his words.

"...is that what you were worried about?" she asked again, still shaking with giggles while looking at him with mirth and affection.

The young man blushed. Her laugh was pretty cute. "Y-Yeah…" he admitted quietly.

Well, this wasn't all he was worried about, of course, but he was worried about that too.

The blonde shook her head, sighing in amusement and glancing at him with a re-found smile. "You don't have to do anything," she reassured him, giving him a mock slap on his arm. "We'll just go as we are. Just be there, and leave the rest to me." Her smile was both soft and seductive as she said those words.

Shirou blushed. Then, he hesitated for a couple of seconds before relaxing and smiling as well. "A-All right," he exhaled softly, sighing in relief. His expression grew more cheerful at that point. "You know... you look really pretty when you laugh. You should do it more often," he told her in total sincerity.

Artoria blushed too. Her eyes fell to the floor, but her lips remained curled in a small, delighted smile. "T-Thank you," she said sincerely.

They didn't say anything else after those words. They walked in an awkward silence through all the long corridors, until they reached their destination after a couple of minutes. They reached the Sleeping Quarters without problems, and then moved towards the direction of his room.

The woman looked at Shirou's room door with a curious smile. "I see. So this is your room. I've rarely come here, you know? The corridor wing opposite to this one is where I and the other female Servants reside. But I should have known that your room number would be 74," she mused to herself.

He nodded curiously. "I see. By the way, why are there numbers along each room?" he asked her.

"It has to do with the order we were summoned in," Artoria explained. " My room, for exaple, is N°8. That's what the numbers are for. Rather than indicate any sort of hierarchy, it is a way for our Master and the staff to call on other Servants when necessary."

"During Singularities?" Shirou asked.

She nodded. "Especially then," she said. "Sometimes Roman and Da Vinci must change their strategy as quickly as possible. That's why efficiency is essential."

"Makes sense," Shirou said approvingly. He then waved his hand in front of the sensor, making the door open with a hiss.

Artoria did not move to enter, but she tilted her head slightly to the side to observe the interior with a curious eye. "Huh. It's small," she noted.

Shirou blinked. "Is it?"

She looked at him with a seductive gaze, smiling slightly. "Some Servants request larger rooms," she replied, looking straight into his eyes, her cheeks lightly flushed. "If they feel the need."

The young man blushed, his heart hammering inside his chest. He gulped. For a long moment, the couple looked into each other's eyes without saying anything. They simply stared, their gazes glued to each other, without saying a word or moving a muscle. Time seemed to slow down for both of them, completely dissolving the world around them for what seemed like an eternity.

Until, slowly, Artoria reached out a hand and cupped Shirou's cheek with it. The boy felt his cheeks flush. "Sleep now," she told him gently, softly, gazing into his eyes with a tender expression. "And don't worry about anything. I will meet you tomorrow, when it's time for us to go."

He swallowed, nodding stiffly without saying anything.

Then, just when she seemed to be hesitating and turning to leave, she suddently leaned in and kissed his cheek softly.

Shirou's head exploded with emotions.

"Goodnight, Shirou," she simply said with a flushed smile, before turning away quickly and leaving him alone inside his room.

The young man remained frozen and motionless with an embarassed face and mouth agape. For a long, long time, he was utterly unable to move or think. Then, slowly, after an eternity, his hand moved on its own to touch his cheek with a hesitant movement, still feeling the warmth and softness of her lips under his fingers. That little King… she was sure bold with him. She had successfully managed to stun him, again, with her actions. She… She was quite something, for sure. He could definitely see why his previous self fell in love with her.

His eyes widened at that thought.

Atalanta's words suddently echoed in his mind at that point.

Until now, you just focused your thoughts on your past, and on what that woman might think or see in you. But what about the current you, instead? How do you feel about her?

A small, uncertain smile curled Shirou's lips.

"This feeling… it's not that bad."

---

Marisbilly Animusphere's private suite and workshop was far more elegant when compared to the ones of most mages of the Clock Tower. It had six rooms adjacent next to each other, forming a gigantic hall; or a small house, based on who you'd ask to describe it. It was a series of large, spacious adjoining rooms, richly decorated and filled with books, screens and electronic equipment worthy of the most advanced room in Chaldea. Accessed by a lone hallway and built separately from the main structure, it was also perfectly isolated.

This made it the ideal residence for Chaldea's most egoistical King.

Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, had taken over Marisbilly's old suite since all personal belongings had been long removed. He was sitting in the living area, which served as the first of many smaller rooms that encompassed the suite. It was the largest of the connected rooms, which made a great lounge for a small host of occupants. Four couches, two tables, a large bookshelf, and a mini-bar defined this purpose.

Right now, there were only the two people in the room. Not that many people could usually come here, in reality. Few were those in Chaldea who were allowed to enter the domain of the King of Uruk.

Iskandar, the King of Conquerors, was one of them.

With a more unsatisfied look than usual, Gilgamesh rested across the entirety of a couch. Dressed in casual clothes, "playing attire" – as he used to say – to ward off boredom from being in spirit form; he was now wearing a fashionable white v-neck with three quarter sleeves, and python print pants, just like his time during the Fourth Holy Grail War. He stared at the burgundy wall as he lounged on the royal-red cushions, with a clear and displeased frown on his face.

The King of Conquerors sat with one arm thrown over the back of a matching couch. He remained silent, patiently waiting for Gilgamesh to sort out his thoughts before asking seriously. "Is there a reason why you're so annoyed today, Goldie?"

Gilgamesh flashed a glare of annoyance at the chosen nickname, but chose to ignore it. "It's nothing but a mere news that I recently heard. It should not bother me this much."

Iskandar watched Gilgamesh curiously after his admittance.

The two made eye contact as the golden Archer stared sourly at the Rider. Only a small number of people ever interacted with the arrogant King on a rather civil level. Though their young Master Ritsuka could be counted in the number, even Roman and Da Vinci could not get through to him. It was a rare form of acceptance of sorts, and Iskandar took that honor seriously. It was one of the few times the Rider would consciously attempt to reel in his overbearing persona, if only not to lose this rare chance at being in Gilgamesh's good graces.

The room fell silent as the King of Heroes took another sip. He swirled the wine in his hands, mimicking the thoughts that churned behind divine, red eyes. Only the ticks of the clock could be heard as time passed. Finally, it broke once more as Gilgamesh decided to speak again. "…I heard that a certain 'Faker' has finally being summoned here."

Iskandar's eyebrows rose. "You mean that boy, Shirou?" he asked, his espression growing more pensive. "So you have a history with him too, huh."

The scowl on the golden King's face deepened at the mention of his name. "He's nothing but a worthless Faker to me," he declared irritably. His eyes even flashed with ire for a second. "I chose to ignore that useless Archer related to him because he never really had something to do with me; but that Faker... he committed an unforgivable crime against me in the past."

That seemed to surprise even him. Iskandar narrowed his eyes, already imagining what kind of 'crime' the boy could have committed against the ancient Archer. "Really, now? What did he do?" he asked instead.

The King of Uruk's face was twisted into an outraged grimace as he answered. "...he stole a precious treasure from me."

Iskandar sighed. "Listen, Goldie... when you say treasure... you're not actually referring to that girl, are you?" he asked with barely veiled exasperation.

Gilgamesh looked at him with superiority. "I am. She is a treasure that is not meant to belong with anyone but me, as all the other treasures in the world already do. The fact that someone else stole it; no… the fact that this worthless Faker stole it from me... is something that I simply cannot accept," he declared, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Come on, now, it was in the past," Iskandar tried to dissuade him with another sigh. "And I know you already heard of the fact that he has lost all of his memories. Even if he did something you don't like, that should be enough punishment for a mere boy like him. He's surely suffering because of his condition. The kid doesn't even remember the girl he loved, nor what happened between the two of you," he tried to say.

But the King of Heroes merely shrugged his shoulders. "What he remembers or not is not important. He stole from me once, and he is still doing it now, even without memories. That girl should belong with me, and yet she's still clinging to that Faker. This is already a crime that should be punished with death," he replied, unfazed.

"…she is in love with him, Gilgamesh," Iskandar said seriously. "She's the one who chose to chase after him now. If you touch the boy, she is sure to get revenge on you."

Gilgamesh scoffed with barely contained amusement. "As if such a trivial thing would stop me. What she thinks or chooses is not important to me. I already made my intentions clear, since a long time ago. If she doesn't want to belong with me, then she won't belong to anyone. That's what I, the one, True King decided. And so it shall be."

The King of Conquerors sighed, running a hand trough his red hair. He knew there was nothing he could do or say to truly convince Gilgamesh to leave that boy alone. Fighting or opposing him wasn't an option, either. Iskandar had been defeated by him in the past. He had no chance of defeating him. Besides, the man was too stubborn, too powerful, and too arrogant to even consider such a thing. When he made a decision, no one could stop him or change his mind. Not even him.

But that certainly did not mean that Iskandar would stand by and do nothing in this situation. Not only such a thing was not his style, but that boy, Shirou, was a cool guy. He was a friend. Iskandar certainly didn't want to see him suffer more than he already was because of his condition. But if he wanted to help him, he had to be discreet and secretive.

And there was only one thing he could do.

"Boy, I have no idea of what you did to this arrogant Goldie here, but for your own good you'd better watch your back from now on," Iskandar sighed mentally, shaking his head.

Because the King of Heroes was displeased.

And it wasn't a good thing.

---

For those who asked... no, this is not a Harem story. I wanted to insert the Parvati, Isthar and Merlin scene just for personal enjoyment. The story will always focus on Shirou and Artoria only.

Beowulf, Leonidas and Fergus's training scene is inspired by a Craft Essence in F/GO available during the Nero Festival Redux - 2017 Autumn - event. It's called Muscle Cavalier. I wanted to include Rama in the scene as well, but since I know absolutely nothing about his character, I decided to ignore him in the end.