She almost wanted to think they were just three friends exploring the woods together; that he was no king, that he was no knight, and that she was no king of knights. They could easily be mistaken as such, wearing modern fashion, walking with swinging arms, bickering every now and then. But happy thoughts like that didn't exist in their world did it?
Breathing was becoming more and more difficult. Her heart strained to beat under the pressure of the magic curse, but she willed herself to stay calm.
Breathe, Arturia…Breathe…
She kept her breaths even and bit back whimpers of pain, hoping to the heavens and beyond that Gilgamesh of all people would not notice. She stopped herself from looking back to check on him. At least he couldn't see her face. That made things much simpler.
Nearly…there…
She focused her vision forward on Lancer's back to keep herself from blacking out, but as he blurred and defocused, she knew she couldn't take much more of this stupid curse.
Lancer turned around with an eyebrow raised as if he was expecting an answer.
"My apologies, but I didn't quite hear you," she voiced, masking the strain with an apologetic smile.
Another eyebrow rose. "You must be exhausted. I merely suggested a brief respite."
"You worry too much. This is nothing compared to the challenges I faced in training."
The knight shot her a look, but turned and kept walking.
"If you say so…"
She watched his retreating back, wondering if she'd put up a good enough act. Arturia wanted this over with. The sooner they got there, the better. Every time they stopped, the pain only seemed to worsen. Another break was the last thing she needed. It hurt her pride enough that she fainted not long ago, and in front of the worst type of audience, no less.
"If you think you can fool me, you are mistaken, little girl."
The King of Heroes passed her on the right, eyebrows crossed and hands shoved in his pockets, leaving Arturia alone with her thoughts.
Fists clenched, she walked on.
…
It was hours before Saber talked again. The woman looked so weary, Diarmuid felt guilty for not insisting on another break.
"We've arrived."
Arturia breathed the words out in relief, feeling the bonds around her heart loosen. At the very least, the curse was over. Air had never tasted so sweet. She relished her unburdened breathing so much that she'd almost missed the beauty of the nature that surrounded her.
If the Garden of Eden did exist, then it would have to be here. Hidden within the dense forest they were travelling through was a clearing dotted with round white boulders. Colorful petals peeked up over a rolling green carpet of grass as if reaching towards the expansive blue sky. The breeze made the grass ripple as it twirled through the tiny bright meadow. Birds sang as if they were welcoming her into the little paradise. She held out her open palm, feeling the sunlight's warmth dance on her fingertips. Everything looked so surreal, like it was pulled out of child's storybook and brought to life before her eyes.
She tried to lock eyes with the other knight to thank him, but when she beheld the man, his eyes looked so hollow, she swore she was staring into straight into an abyss. The usual bright orange orbs had taken such a dark turn that they'd looked crimson under the shade of the trees.
Lancer?
She searched frantically for his warm aura and found nothing but a dank emptiness where it used to be. His gentle gaze turned cold. The face that showed such sincere smiles now grit teeth. Hands that had held her so carefully clenched tightly into shaking fists.
"I…need some water," Lancer murmured, disappearing back into the forest with his head hung before Saber could say anything to stop him.
What just happened?
"What now?"
The King of Knights was shaken from her thoughts by the sudden question. She'd almost forgotten her other companion since he was so silent for most of the journey. Saber turned to the King of Heroes, who glared at her with irate red eyes. His tone was stiff, like a challenge. As usual, Gilgamesh was a mystery to her. He had kept that attitude since the forest, and she did not know whether it was better to ask him about it or to leave him alone to reveal it himself. But, given as he was Gilgamesh, she didn't expect any answers either way.
"Now…we wait," she replied plainly, and watched as he pulled an entire couch out of a pocket dimension. His eyes glazed over for a second there, but it seemed he was regaining his mana.
"Care to join me?" he smirked, noticing her eyes on him.
And his attitude, apparently. She turned away from the king and his condescending eyes, and called Excalibur. The strain burned her veins, but just seeing the sword again, the only familiar thing she had in this unfamiliar world, brought a very welcome comforting feeling, as well as the assurance that she could at least summon basic things. She took one last look at the Sword of Promised Victory before letting it vanish into the air. It would be a while before she could actually use it though.
"Now wasn't that a little cruel? Showing me the very weapon you used to kill me just hours before?" Gilgamesh teased, leaning into his couch like he owned the world.
"You would know. You define cruelty after all," Saber stated coldly, but the man just laughed. She could tell he wanted something, even if for the most part, their conversations consisted of insults and disagreements.
"What is it you want, King of Heroes?"
"I believe you already know."
If he was talking about that preposterous proposal, he was out of his mind.
"I have no need of your nonsense."
She turned away from the King, heading in the direction Lancer had taken, to the blonde King's dismay.
"I do not grasp why you prefer that mongrel's company over mine," he grumbled, a tinge of envy slipping out of his usual supercilious voice.
"That, King of Heroes, is exactly why."
With those words and one last meaningful green-eyed look that Gilgamesh couldn't comprehend, she was gone.
Gilgamesh's standard smirk wavered, and then he burst out into laughter.
Did that woman just make him doubt himself?
Him, the King of Heroes, of all people!
What a woman.
Lancer's trail of cut shrubbery was easy to follow. He must have pulled out a spear, judging by how cleanly severed the branches were. The more she walked, though, the more she realized that maybe his slashes were a bit wider than necessary, nipping off tree bark here and there, and leaving tree roots bleeding and scattered about. It looked careless, or unfocused, as if he were hacking away without being aware of what he was doing. Larger gashes scarred the shrubbery as she continued down the path he left.
She clenched her fists. "Lancer?"
Silence.
She ran.
…
Red. Red. There was so much red.
Is this…my blood?
The Knight stared in horror at his bloodied hand, suddenly remembering the dire situation they were in. Where the hell was Fionn? And did he manage to beat the—
The boar! Where-?! Argh!
As he almost blacked out again, he realized he was missing half his gut.
Shit. Shit!
Black stars dancing in his view, he searched frantically for his comrades, feeling relief only when he saw the face of his lord.
Fionn! My Lord, you're safe!
He could almost smile despite the pain that racked his body when he saw his master try to bring him healing water from his hands.
He truly sees me as a knight again.
Drip. Drop. Drip.
His Lord cursed, once again running back to the water .
My Lord was just careless. He'll heal me. I know he will.
The water once again failed to reach his lips.
He will heal me. Don't doubt him, Oisin. He will heal me.
The water splashed, wasted on the ground right in front of his wide eyes.
Pain.
"You don't really think, I've forgotten about that have you?"
AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!
He lunged at his master, grabbing his wrist—
"—armuid!"
Huh?
That wasn't Fionn's voice…
He shook his head violently, opening his eyes only to have them met by wide green ones.
"Saber?"
When her eyes left his for her wrist, he blanched, realizing he'd been hurting her this whole time. He retracted his arm the next second, and stabbed the red spear into the ground next to him
"Saber, I—" he started, nursing the wrist he had nearly crushed in his grip.
"Do not trouble yourself with it," she interrupted, hiding her hand behind her back. "Are you all right, Lancer?"
Her words of worry were answered by panicked apologies.
"I should be asking you that. I must apologize, I didn't realize—"
"I told you not to worry about it," she reprimanded, as if nothing happened, "Shall we continue and get some water?" She asked, hoping to change the subject and take his mind off the earlier event.
Saber turned away from Lancer, already able to hear what sounded like a running stream. The man sure knew how to survive in the woods.
"I bet I can get to the stream before you can," she teased, smiling back at the man behind her.
He looked stunned for a moment before chuckling. Perhaps she wasn't hurt at all and he was just overreacting. After all, she was challenging him to a race.
"You looking to lose a bet, King of Knights?"
"Oh, I don't intend to lose, Lancer. On the count of three."
"One."
"Two."
"Three."
He raced on ahead of her, and when she was sure he was out of sight she discretely brought forward the arm she hid behind her back and examined the bluish skin just below her palm. It only made sense that he had a killer grip from all that expert weapon handling. If anything, she should have expected this. But what on earth could influence Diarmuid so much that he'd turn violent outside of a fight? Her eyes narrowed, and she uttered a simple healing incantation, instantly feeling the power drain from her system as she used her basic magic.
What on Earth had gotten into him?
She looked around and sighed, wondering if covering up the injury was the right thing to do.
Now to find that stream.
The two knights returned from their drink to find a drastically bored King of Heroes sipping on a glass of red wine as he lounged on his luxury sofa. As they had nothing to do, they decided to relax as well. Lancer plopped down on the grass and leaned on a tree, while Saber decided to walk around.
The petite one held her arm out of the shade of the thick canopy to feel the waning sunlight again. This time the rays were gentler, and they colored her pale palm orange as the sky. The entire landscape basked in the auburn light, and Saber found it difficult to think that the view was the same view as when they first arrived. There was just an unexplainable magic to the sunset that she loved.
To be honest, she did not know what to make of the beauty of her surroundings. It just seemed odd to her that such an evil tool as the Grail would contain such wonderful dimension as this. But, a sunset is a sunset. She used to watch them all the time with Kay. It became routine until she had taken the sword from the stone.
A short walk, and she found herself running her hand down one of the marble rocks in the middle of the field. It was unreal. Such beautiful things never occurred in the real world. Then again, perhaps she just never truly appreciated the beauty of Camelot in her old life. Was the grass this green? Was the sky so blue? Was the world painted in more colors than gray?
"Jeanne!"
The woman was shocked out of her thoughts upon recognition of the voice. Gae Dearg automatically appeared in Diarmuid's hand, and in the next second the Irishman put himself between the disturbed dark magus and the two somewhat defenseless kings.
Saber nearly frowned at Diarmuid's lack of trust in her ability to protect herself, but deciding he was only doing it for her best interest, turned her ire to the disgusting mage who had the nerve to show his face to her again.
"How many times must I tell you that I am not this Jeanne you speak of?!" Saber questioned angrily, frustrated that even after ten long years the magus hasn't realized the truth yet.
Lancer's eyes moved from the French man to the English woman. He vaguely remembered the fish-eyed one's complete obsession with the King of Knights, but nothing more. Though, he did grant them a chance to display their honor as knights, so that gave Diarmuid one thing to thank Gilles for…versus a thousand reasons to kill him.
"Is this stalker bothering you, Saber?" Lancer asked, pointing his spear at Caster. "Your defeat is certain, crooked one."
The red spear spun easily in his grasp as he took a stance, causing the gray-skinned man to flinch. Good, the man at least remembered how Saber and Diarmuid defeated his slimy minions that night ten years ago. But perhaps Lancer felt so enthusiastic that he forgot Saber could deal with her problems on her own.
"I am in no need of your protection,u Lancer. I am fully capable of defending myself," Saber reprimanded, her pride feeling a little bruised.
"Oh, Saber, don't be that way," he replied, not taking his eyes off his target.
"Is that really the proper way to treat someone who too was invited to this gathering?" Caster started, but his voice was lost in the bickering of the two knights.
"Lancer, you know I am in no need of protection."
"Of course, King of Knights, but it would be nice to rely on your comrades every now and then. You are a King after all."
"You speak the truth, but I think that dealing with Caster should not take even a minute for me alone," Saber argued.
"Then it will take even less time if we collaborate, will it not?" Lancer countered, not backing down.
And so, the French magus was left only to watch as his Jeanne fought with the pretty Irish dude. Well, this was certainly unexpected. Surely Jeanne would prefer to talk to him over that pagan Knight, wouldn't she? So why was he being ignored, and why of all things was she entertaining that tarnished adulterous playboy? A sinner whom she didn't even know! Why, when he was right here?
No matter, once he successfully returned her to her right mind then he could spend all the time he wanted by her side again. At least for now, he could settle for some attention.
"Jeanne—" he started again, in vain.
"Mongrel, what gives you the idea that you may speak to my wife for such a long period of time?" Gilgamesh shouted from his couch.
"I am not your wife!"
"Saber is hardly your spouse!"
Clearly these two boys weren't going to give him any time at all. And still these duffers call themselves Heroic Spirits.
Caster's brows knit together. He'd be damned if he let those two get in between him and his love. He'd been here for ten agonizing years waiting for her to show up once the Grail War concluded, and here she was, right in front of his eyes. His countless prayers have finally been answered. Like hell he'd let the chance go to waste. He flung his hand forward, muttering a chant under his breath.
With my hand I open the gates of hell
With my blood I summon the beast
Come forth tendrils of below
And capture the maiden I—
The spell was broken with the sudden bang of a thunderclap, and from the heavens fell a heavy war chariot, alive with lightning.
"HOHOHO! Has the King of Knights finally fallen in love? About time!" The boom made him seem like a high Santa Claus.
What in Jeanne's name—Rider? Gilles' magic disappeared undetected, having been interrupted by the thunder of a hero that barged in.
"Don't make assumptions," Saber reacted, automatically recognizing the voice, "King of Conquerors."
She could roll her eyes right now. Arturia hadn't forgotten how this King of ignoble blood had managed to ridicule her way of ruling so easily, as if it had been flawed in every imaginable way. He'd picked at every little thing, scrutinized every detail, and trashed it without a thought to spare. And yet…there may have been truth to his words. After all, he was wishing to expand his rule, and she was wishing to end hers. Still, she couldn't have been completely erroneous.
The King of Heroes may have laughed. But he never said she was wrong. She slipped a brief glance at the blonde man, before welcoming the King of Conquerors. It was not wise to dwell on such strange thoughts.
The colossal man waved at the trio, cape melting into the sunset. But the more they looked, the Servants found two white masks poking out of Iskandar's huge silhouette. Behind him stood two Assassins: a male and a violet-haired female. Hassan. Upon his reaching the trio, the two Assassins remained a safe distance from the King of Heroes and the King of Conquerors himself, but Iskandar approached with no fear. He stood, chest out proudly.
"I am honored to have faced such formidable foes in the war. I shall defeat you next time, King of Heroes," he beamed, showing that big goofy smile of his, as if the bloody, sword-covered death was but a dream and nothing more to him.
Gilgamesh scoffed from his place on his couch. "Ridiculous. The likes of you could never defeat me, the King of all."
Iskandar, at that point, should have at least felt a little shame. However, the red-haired hulk did nothing but stand akimbo and mirror the King of Heroes' signature smirk, leading the blonde to raise an irritated eyebrow.
"You claim to be undefeatable and yet," Iskandar pointed to the adorable King of Knights, "did this dreaming little girl not defeat you in the last war?"
Gilgamesh froze, eyes wide as dinner plates. How in the world—
"HOOOOOOH! So it is true! My sources are indeed reliable!" the King of Conquerors guffawed. The Assassins joined him, snickering in the slightest manner. Even Caster found it amusing.
"Do you desire a repetition of the death you experienced, insolent lowlife?" Perhaps the pain you experienced was not sufficient!" Gilgamesh raged, leaving his couch to stomp menacingly towards the heavily muscled man.
"WOAH THERE, hold your horses, King of Heroes, do we not still have to convene with our summoner?" Iskandar laughed awkwardly, putting his hands in front of him in a desperate attempt to quell the anger he just caused. As much as he would love to tease the shorter king, that defeat ten years ago hurt like hell.
Red eyes momentarily left their huge target and settled on the shortest king, who had her arms folded and was currently looking away.
"Hmph. Be grateful that your King is merciful," Gilgamesh said. He could teach this mongrel a lesson later. Even make a show of it. Maybe then Saber wouldn't show such a disapproving face. Wait a minute. What the hell? When did he start caring what she thinks?
"I will not be reduced to being your subject, King of Heroes. Instead, you should consider joining my army!" Iskandar suggested, as he had done many years ago. Clearly he hadn't gotten the message.
"Is that something you should ask of a king?" The snake-eyed king bit back. This idiot was really pushing it.
Forgotten among honorable kings, knights, and both, Caster cursed. No doubt he could trump the two blondes, judging by their low levels of prana, and the Lancer didn't seem like too much work. A quick summoning spell of his little creatures ought to do the trick, especially since the things were itching to get back at Lancer for taking away their little blonde toy. But Caster didn't have enough power to deal with a team of Rider, Lancer, and Assassin, who no doubt would side with Jeanne, given how he had acted when they all met last. He had left an impression, yes, but not a good one. He'd have to act when he and Jeanne were alone. For now…he could wait a little longer.
The hair on the back of his neck stood up, and Diarmuid swore Caster was up to something just now, and sent the gray-skinned man a suspicious look, which the man took no notice of. Whatever malicious intent he sensed a moment ago was temporarily gone, perhaps due to the appearance of both Rider and Assassin, but that didn't let Caster off the hook. He had done such horrendous things in the 4th Grail War, plus he had an unsettling obsession with Saber, and that definitely did not sit well with the Irish knight.
Saber met Lancer's eyes. They both sighed. Seems they were thinking the same thing. Lancer's expression turned somewhat serious.
There was yet another who some disturbing obsession with Saber though (making the count one…two…three? Three.), and in Lancer's opinion he was much more of a threat than Caster. It baffled the knight how Arturia's eyes showed not a hint of worry, rather, they were laced with…guilt?
But why?
"One missing from the participants of our war," Lancer concluded, singling out the only one not present.
As if on cue, a knight with long purple hair bowed before Saber, his long locks reaching the grass.
"My king."
"Sir Lancelot," Saber said, quite surprised, prompting all the 4th Grail War contenders to look their way. Her knight appeared out of nowhere. Saber knew he would show up sometime. It was clear the intentions of the spell's caster were to bring all the Grail contestants together, and that meant Lancelot would no doubt, come.
"Sir Lancelot, there is no need for such formalities in this gathering," Saber lectured.
No roars. No violent fits of chaos. He seemed to have gained back the sanity he was deprived of during the war. What remained was a stoic, elegant face and an ever serious expression.
Lancelot? The name seemed to trigger a flow of information from the Throne of Heroes for all the servants. Was this gentleman…Berserker?
The other Servants, however, had never seen the side to him that made any actual sense. Hell, he couldn't even speak anything but 'RAH' and "hwoooh" back when they were competing for the Grail. The man that was before them right now was an absolute stranger to them, as he was neither the mad dog, nor the black roaring beast of a man that appeared at the most untimely moments.
"You are kind as always, my liege. However…I still…I still desire punishment for the incident with Guinevere. Because of my actions, you—"
Saber sighed, cutting him off, ignoring the tug at her heart. "Really, what do I do with you?" She asked no one in particular, shaking her head slightly. She gently cupped his face with her right hand, prompting the King of Heroes to put on a bitter scowl.
"When will you understand that I forgive you?" she asked solemnly. Rider almost scoffed. It seemed Saber really did treat all her subjects like they were sheets of glass. Even the ones that deserved to be punished. If it were him, he'd be having this guy walk straight off a cliff. That is, if he really had a woman to fight for.
Berserker just stared back at his king solemnly, finding sincerity in her eyes and gentleness in her beautiful smile. And somehow, forgiveness seemed even more of a punishment than death.
How could you?
"As you wish," he said seriously, taking a look around and realizing this matter could be discussed at a later time. He stood, towering over the petite King. She seemed used to it, as she smiled back at her knight.
Her knight.
Gods. Lancer inwardly slapped himself. I'm thinking too much.
Suddenly, there was a flash of blue. An Irish man materialized in the middle of the group. He opened his eyes, revealing blood red orbs.
"Who the hell are you people?"
His eyes roamed the crowd. There was a huge man clad in red. Red? What horrible taste in clothing. Red is for women. Next to 'Red' were two black-clad masked freaks. He so did not want to talk with them. There was an even creepier gray skinned man with—wait…Are his eyes normal? Last time he checked, eyes pointed forward. Then there was a man who looked sort of familiar… And there was another man who had really…long hair. His eyes landed on the two Servants he recognized.
"That bastard, and Saber," the mysterious blue-clad man said, "what is your business in this area?"
Five of the Servants turned to the two who were called out, wondering who this rough man was. Rider assessed his looks from head to toe. Blue? What horrible taste in clothing. Blue is for women. Iskandar thought.
Saber interrupted before Gilgamesh could lash out at the blue warrior. "Lancer, were you summoned as well?" she questioned, noticing the other Irish man perk up at her words.
Diarmuid raised his eyebrows. Lancer? The Knight of Fianna racked his brain for a name. This man looked familiar; he hailed from the same land, definitely. A wild, bestial look that supposedly made maidens swoon, a barbed, deathly looking spear, and lastly… a name that was spoken of highly, one that was praised long after his death, even among the Fianna.
"Cu Chulainn," the raven-haired Lancer called out. Saber's eyes went back to the man who spoke, eyes immediately flashing a curious look.
The blue man kept silent for a moment, piecing name and face together. He kind of looked familiar…like that kid he saw this one time. He had the same features, except he was much older now, he should think. The Throne of Heroes they were all currently standing in gave him the last clue he needed. This guy was a Lancer too.
"Diarmuid Ua Duibhne, fancy meeting you here, though you were just a kid back then. To think you grew up to be a warrior too, huh. The Grail labels you as a Lancer, doesn't it? I can't believe you were summoned before me. You know what?" he said, waving Gae Bolg in his hands easily, "How about we test which one of us is truly the most skilled master of the spear?"
He lunged. Diarmuid quickly stepped between the fearless Lancer and Saber, moving his own spear to deflect his opponent's, but the very moment their weapons collided, Saber's heart screamed in her chest.
Saber protested, "Both of you, cease this foolishness!" She strained against the excruciating pain that gripped her heart once more. Not good. Not good. Not good. No!
Diarmuid stopped short at the King's words, barely parrying a blow to his neck. Damn it, Cú Chulainn!
Saber's breathing became labored, drawing red snake eyes in her direction. Should he tell them to stop? They won't listen. Should he stop them with weapons? It would worsen her pain. Should he pull them apart? Like hell he'd stoop low enough to touch those mongrels. Perhaps he'd kill them.
"HOOOH! The Lancers of different wars! This truly is a sight to behold!" The huge man came between them and slung his heavy, HEAVY, arms over their shoulders. "But can't we just get along?" Saber sighed, relieved at the efforts of the Red King. Gilgamesh's swords, already half out of their portals disappeared once again into his treasury.
"Bastard, who are you?" Cu interrogated. His spear forgotten on the ground, he struggled to release himself from the big man's death grip.
"Why, I am the King of Conquerors!" he beamed in reply. Lancer and Lancer were not amused.
"I do not see why you should stop our duel, King of Corn Sorcerers or whatever. Here we have Servants, all built for the fight, and yet you stop a duel between men," Cu Chulainn protested, still squirming in the big man's grasp.
Corn Sorcerers? "A duel, you say?" the King of Conquerors challenged, "This is not a duel." The bearded man let go of the other Lancer, who rubbed his neck. He then whispered to the blue-haired man still in his death grip, "Can you not see that this man does not wish to fight? Not now, in any case." The blue man stopped struggling, actually listening to the words of the older man. Really? Who in their right mind would refuse a duel from him? Besides, everyone here was certainly worthy. Archer and Saber may seem to have such little mana left, but hell, Saber had a pathetic Master in their war and still managed to kick ass. Then there was Archer...that demon.
"With the lady there…" Iskandar pointed to the only woman present, who was currently speaking to Lancelot…and ignoring Caster, "wishing to keep the peace, your opponent has no desire to spar with you." The colossal man let go of his air-deprived captive.
"If I were you, I would not want to spar with a man held back by the wishes of the lady he fancies. Perhaps at a later time," Iskandar lectured, a knowing smile on his face.
Fancies? Cu questioned. Though he hated to admit it, this…King of Corn Sorcerers was right. If he could not fight his opponent at full strength, he did not want a duel at all. Fancies? That Lancer fancies Saber? That notorious playboy? Wasn't he married to some dumb babe? Cu Chalainn observed his counterpart. He was still with the Red guy and himself, but he was staring back at the King of Knights, who seemed to be...to be catching her breath? Hm. So he does fancy the little lion.
"NOW, let us commemorate this meeting with some wine!" The huge man grabbed both Lancers by the cloth at the back of their necks and dragged them to Gilgamesh.
It's this attitude that made Rider's master so scared isn't it? Diarmuid thought as he struggled to regain his footing. "HAHAHA! You look pathetic, Lancers! Are you truly Epic Heroes, mongrels?" Gilgamesh mocked as the odd trio reached him. He was momentarily distracted from Saber and the girl had engaged in a conversation with her knight.
"Say, King of Heroes, how about you bring out that fine wine of yours?" asked the buff hero.
"What madness brings you to think that I would share the finest wine in the universe with my subjects?" he accused arrogantly in reply.
"Aw, and I was looking forward to a fine drink," the Red King pouted childishly.
Despite his words, the blonde king waved a hand in the air and several golden chalices materialized, along with a gold pitcher full of wine. His red eyes faltered for a moment as the magic energy flowed out of him, but he refused to show any more weakness and resumed his arrogant face. Saber raised an eyebrow at him before resuming her conversation with the other British knight.
Gilgamesh saw a little opportunity arise and he smiled at his thoughts. What a clever king you are. He said to himself. Red wine flowed out of the jug and into one of the fine chalices. Gilgamesh grabbed it, eyes glinting, and approached the pair of British knights.
"Well," the King of Heroes interrupted, rudely stepping between the pair, "we can all enjoy this fine wine together or…" The arrogant king turned to the other servants, "you can all amuse me with your blood."
Was that a challenge?
His smile was sinister. The Servants could tell he was serious. The blue Lancer for one, was itching to get back at Gilgamesh for the horrid defeat not a day ago, yet wanted to keep the peace at least until the mysterious summoner reveals his purpose. He grit his teeth. He did not want to die by the hands of the same man twice.
Meanwhile, the petite girl glared up at Gilgamesh as if scolding him for his preposterous statement. Not only that, but her conversation was rudely interrupted. Gilgamesh had tripped the stability of the situation. Any time now, the assembled Servants may break out into a war. Gilgamesh himself was unpredictable, and Caster was even more so. No one could tell what the Assassins were thinking. Even as the King of Heroes was exhausted of mana, his looks may be deceiving. Judging by how Lancer was at full power, the other Servants present would be so as well, leaving the participants of the 5th Grail war, namely she, Cu, and Gilgamesh, at the mercy of even just a single angry Servant.
"But," he said, "whether the red we see is of blood or wine is entirely up to you, Saber." He sampled the wine in the goblet he held and turned the chalice in his hand. Iskandar raised a red eyebrow, noticing the familiarity of the King's words.
What is your decision, adorable King of Knights? Gilgamesh thought to himself. There was no way she could refuse.
The blondes warred with their eyes. Saber did not want any fighting for the day, especially since none of them had an idea why they were summoned. Plus, she didn't think she could take much more of the attacks on her heart.
Something big was about to happen. Even Cú showed up, and he was from a different war. As much as possible, she'd like to keep the fighting to a minimum. However, if she chose the wine, that would mean she was accepting yet another gift from that king. It was a form of surrender to one who she considered despicable. Egad.
The air around her was tense. Even the loud King of Conquerors was serious, eyeing the other Servants around him, but mostly, they fixated on the man that had been the reason for his loss in the 4th war. The Assassins were already back-to-back clearly preparing for an incoming battle. Caster, for some reason, was vengefully looking at Diarmuid, who was held back by the King of Conquerors' left hand. The blue-haired Lancer was stiff, though still in Rider's grip, as if in the next second his prized spear would reappear in his hands. The other Lancer was about to interfere but his actions were stilled as Berserker broke the silence. "My King," he addressed Saber seriously, "if this man is troubling you, then I shall rid this world of him at on—"
Saber raised her hand, signaling for his silence. Gilgamesh huffed, receiving a glare from the purple-haired knight. Face indifferent, Saber took the chalice from Gilgamesh's hand though he did not offer it. She brought it to her lips, unknowingly touching where the other king's own lips had been. He grinned at her actions.
"Be thankful, mongrels!" The servants, though disgusted at the standard nickname the King of Heroes had given them, were relieved at the actions of the female king. At least she wanted to keep the peace, no matter how short it may end up to be. The floating jug of wine filled the other chalices, which floated to the Servants present. After a toast, they all sampled the red liquid. Eyes widened one after the other. (Except for the Assassins, mask and all, and Caster because, well could his eyes actually widen more?) It truly was the finest of fine wine. Truly fit only for a king.
"That is the way to do it, King of Heroes!" Iskandar bellowed, already refilling his cup. "This wine is even better than the one we shared before!" he announced, bringing up a very distasteful memory in the Assassins and Saber.
"Do not address me so familiarly, mongrel. But as the one true King, only the finest wine would ever reach my collection," Gilgamesh explained, continuing to enjoy his endless stash of wine.
Iskandar finally forgot to hold the death grip on his two parallel captives. The Lancers distanced themselves from him, learning to fear the man's grip. Man, arm wrestling with him would be hell.
The two spearmen exchanged glances. It could wait. They came to a silent agreement.
Gilgamesh refilled the cup Saber took from him as she watched silently. There was a sudden flash of pink reflecting on the jug. The woman turned, careful not to spill the contents of her gold chalice. Soon, all the Servants followed, trying to identify the new arrival. The pink was from her floor-length straight hair. Her features were womanly and delicate, yet she hid her eyes behind a thick mask. On her forehead was a strange red tattoo. Her clothes were tight fitting and black, matching the ornament on her face. The woman surveyed the crowd, choosing to address Saber out of the pair of Servants she recognized.
"Saber," she said, ignoring the presence of the other strange Servants, "you and Lancer were summoned as well?" The knight was taken aback. It seems that the Greek woman had a newfound respect for her. Saber nodded and said, "I assume you do not have an inkling of our purpose here either."
The other female agreed, prompting a defeated sigh from the blonde. They were no way closer to discovering anything about their sudden summoning.
"And who are these other Spirits?" the long-haired woman phrased lowly, cautious of their other companions.
"The Servants of the Fourth Holy Grail War," Saber answered. The older woman looked over the crowd once again, studying their probable abilities and build. She contemplated on whether she had enough strength to face even one of them. She frowned. Maybe not.
"So you participated in the past war too?" she asked, noticing that only King Arthur of the present crowd could fill the position of Saber. No other Spirits fit the image. Maybe the other blonde was Archer of the 4th war. Speaking of Archers, where was the white-haired Archer she knew?
King Arthur nodded, confirming the woman's hypothesis. "What Servant are you, lass?" Iskandar asked, curious about the new arrival.
"I am Rider, although normally one would introduce himself first before asking others."
"HOOOOH! So this is my counterpart? It is an honor indeed! We have much to discuss, but first, I am Iskandar, the King of Conquerors! Who might you be, woman, and why do you hide behind a mask?"
This man is very forward. Rider thought. But as we all shall be participating in this…strange activity, it should be alright to introduce ourselves. The Servants were curious. What could she be hiding behind her mask?
"I am Medusa," she said simply.
...Maybe it's best to not see behind the mask.
"Perhaps," she continued, "you may also honor me with your names and titles."
The suggestion was put on hold though, with the arrival of two more Servants, both with purple hair. The air shimmered behind Medusa before a Japanese samurai and an elf woman appeared. The 4th Grail War participants stared, remaining curious about the two. Maybe they were their counterparts. That would be most interesting.
"Caster and Assassin," Saber acknowledged. The male greeted her back courteously, amused at the growing scowl of Gilgamesh's face.
"Greetings, little lion," he said. Saber smiled. Seeing this, despite the King of Heroes' bratty attitude, he sent three chalices of red wine to the trio of new arrivals.
Seizing this chance, the King of Heroes talked to his Saber, all the while preventing Lancelot from speaking to her again. Saber began to scold him, and he asked, "Who are you, my mother?"
Anything to impress the lady of his interest, eh? The Japanese Assassin thought, accepting the wine. Medusa did the same, and was quickly swept a little away from the crowd by her huge counterpart, who asked her questions to no end. The poor girl wasn't much of the talking type and was slightly overwhelmed by the chatty king. The rest of the Servants conversed with each other, Lancer and Lancer even talked in Irish. Gilles de Rais was curious about his own counterpart, but cautiously watched on.
The third chalice remained untouched. Caster? Assassin thought. The woman's jaw was clenched. Her fists were closed tight, shaking from the force. Her brows were knit. Her eyes filled with murderous intent and rage. Assassin followed his former master's eyes.
Gilgamesh? But why would Caster be angry at—
Caster murmured something so soft he almost missed it.
"Soichirou-sama," she whispered, her voice cracking with both grief and rage. A magic circle appeared.
Chottomatte. Assassin thought. Does she intend to attack him?
"Caster, it is not wise to—"
Too late.
"Burn."
Heya!
Welp, this took way longer than I thought it would. I'm so sorry! But it's here now, and I'm in the middle of editing the next one, which is actually more of a continuation of this one!
Don't worry, I'm not going to abandon this story. I've got a lot in store for all of you, and I have no intention of leaving this you hanging.
Thank you so much for coming to read my story. :) I hope you enjoyed it so far. Leave a review so I'll know what you think! ;)
(While you're waiting, I hope you'd check out my other Fate project, Sweet Nothings. :) I'm updating it today, too! :D)
And if you're wondering why it took so long, I have been HAUNTED by this new AU for Fate and it has just been bothering me so much that I couldn't write anything else AGHH! I'll have it up when it looks more like a story and less like a hodgepodge of ideas. Bu~~~~ut! Since I have been the worst updater ever, here's a sneak peek:
/preview start/
"This worries me, Enkidu," said the tall Earth Prince to his faithful servant, as he slumped into his luxurious hardwood throne.
"What does?
The monarch almost snorted at his servant's complete lack of formality. Part of it annoyed him because it meant Enkidu didn't recognize him as his prince, but at the same time, since they've known each other since birth, and since he did consider Enkidu one of his few friends, he found it quite nice. He wasn't one for being called "Prince" or "majesty" anyway. But the furrow in his brow didn't leave.
"Aria."
His servant's mouth formed an "O" in response, but his expression swiftly changed into something much more teasing.
"What about her bothers you?" The servant said, his green eyes leaving his ruler for the cup of tea he had been preparing for his liege. The aroma was quite fantastic; Enkidu was getting better at growing chamomile. Surely he'd be pleased. But even if he wasn't, his master was never one to show dissatisfaction.
Anyway, it seemed the prince was having a bit of trouble with his guest lately, but what could have brought this on? He and the Air elemental got along so well. Too well, even. Enkidu was beginning to worry for his flammable friend, for it seemed the flame elemental had taken a fancy to the foreign girl.
His master shot up in his seat. "N-no! Nothing about her bothers me. She's fine company. In fact, I wouldn't mind if she'd like to stay-"
"Forever?" Enkidu interjected jovially.
"Ye-NO! Enkidu, stop it!" the prince shouted, red-faced and obviously flustered, as he jumped out of his seat. It was so fun to tease the guy. He had such a weak control of his facial expressions, even at the age of twenty, he couldn't pull off a simple pokerface. Enkidu happily handed his master the steaming cup of tea. The man looked at him with a cross expression, and then at the tea, and proceeded to take the cup and sit down again.
"So, what is it really?" Enkidu asked, but the twenty-year-old only stared at him with annoyed orange eyes. The smaller man held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, fine. No teasing," he promised, offering a Cheshire cat smile.
Thankfully, his employer sighed in defeat. Enkidu knew he was his prince's personal confidante. It wasn't the King, and it wasn't like the heir could tell his brother anything anymore, so that only left him, the Earth Prince's forever servant.
"It's just...I feel like there's something she isn't telling us," the man admitted.
Us, namely Enkidu, the Earth Prince, their grumpy flammable friend, and...throw in Cú too since he's somehow involved...somehow.
"Well, we have only known her for a few days. And it's not like you told her who you really were, Diarmuid," Enkidu said as-a-matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his androgynous face.
Diarmuid shot him a look, but sighed again. Enkidu was always right.
"But seriously, Dia?" the green-haired man man mocked, "Couldn't come up with a better alias?"
Diarmuid only groaned from his position, burying his face into his hands. He didn't come here to be made fun of. He picked up his cup of chamomile tea and downed it like a drunkard would do beer.
Setting the cup down, he resumed his serious face and said, "It just feels like that 'something' could be important, alright? I'm not suspicious of her. She doesn't seem like—she isn't a bad person. I don't believe she'd ever harm us."
Enkidu could giggle at how defensive Prince Diarmuid was getting about Aria.
"I think so too," he replied, looking back in the direction of the guest room where their foreign guest lay sleeping.
Or so they thought. Arturia lay under the silk covers, green eyes very much awake, wondering if it was good luck or misfortune that she'd lost her crown.
/end preview/
Aaaaaand that was the preview for my upcoming Elemental AU fic, Earth, Wind, and Fire! Do give it a shot when it comes out!
Thank you very much for reading! I'll have the next chapter ready soon! :)
Until next time!
-akampana
