Author's Note: I know I said I was going to write something set in the past for the next chapter, but I loved the premise of this one so much it just took over my brain. This one takes place at the later end of the 6th Grail War.

A bit of angst ahead, but there's plenty of "squee" material here too. One of my favorite chapters so far.

21st Century United Kingdom

London, England

She pulls on the bandage tight to stem the flow of blood.

"Uhn!"

She ignores his feeble protests as her worry and anger cause her to wrap the wound a little too tightly.

"What on earth happened?" She snaps.

"Nothing." He exhales through his teeth.

"Arthur." Her tone is all steel, the full force of her regality behind his name. Disgraced queen she may be, but even her husband knew better than to argue when she gets in these moods.

Lancer winces and touches his wound. He licks his lips and glances at her, face pale from the earlier battle.

Some things never change. You may look like a grown man now, but I'll always remember your childish pouts, love.

"You froze when Berserker attacked. What. Happened." She pushes slightly on his wound. Lying to her would not be a good idea.

"I..." Lancer pushes himself up from the couch he lies on. "Just... bad memories."

Archer blinks, surprised despite her insistence. She had always, always, asked Arturia where her various wounds and scars came from and rarely received a proper answer.

It had been the cause of their fights more than once. And she had always felt guilty to badger her husband when the other woman was clearly wounded, tired, or busy.

Bad memories about a Berserker? Well, at least he's not telling me he's fine right now.

Caught off guard by Lancer's vulnerability, she relaxes, shoulder muscles she didn't even know were tensed going lax.

After a moment, she asks, "If I remember correctly, this isn't your first Grail War, is it?"

"No. No, it isn't."

"But then... how would you even know? We get summoned from the Throne of Heroes. The only memories we have are of our former lives."

"I'm somewhat of a different case." Lancer smiles sadly and shakes his head. "As you know, I can't go into spirit form."

It had made her curious at first. But soon forgot about it once they realized it was very handy to fool their opponents that there was only one Servant in their party, not two.

"That's because I'm not dead yet."

"What?" Archer recoils.

That can't be right. Lance and I rushed to Camelot once I heard of Mordred's rebellion, but I was too late. Camlann...

"T-that can't be right. I saw you. I saw your... your... I buried you." Her shoulders start shaking. "That can't be..."

Cold points of steel touch her cheek. Fingers.

"I'm sorry, let me explain. I was not summoned from the Throne of Heroes. The form you see before you is me right before my death.

I'm still not sure why I was summoned as a grown man, but it must have something to do with Ron."

"...right before your death?"

Lancer stares at her for a moment, his armored hand still on her cheek. She's seen this look on her husband once before. Like he's trying to commit her face to memory, green eyes shining with melancholy.

Kind, always kind, even as his own heart breaks.

"Yes." He finally says. "When the Grail War ends, I'll find myself back in Camlann."

She feels the blood rush from her face. Archer grabs his wrist, like she's afraid he'd fade away right before her eyes at this moment. She takes a few ragged breaths to compose herself, but doesn't let go.

"And this is... This is your third war?"

A soft exhale. A silent yes.

His fingers move to cup her cheek. She knows that he's trying to console her as her heart breaks for him.

And it does. It does. She cannot help but curse herself, curse Morgana, Mordred, and all of the Knights of the Round for abandoning their King when she needed them the most.

Arturia, who sacrificed everything she had for Britain, died alone. And once this war ends, it will happen again for the third time.

A thumb brushes away tears she cannot stop.

"I know you'll just hit me again if I say 'I'll be fine' or 'I'm sorry'. So I'll just stay quiet."

Despite herself, she laughs. "Yes. Yes, I would."

"I've been battered by enough Servants today, thank you very much."

Archer laughs again. She hates him for learning a new tactic to put others at ease while carrying everything by himself, but that's just who Arthur is.

"I know." He whispers in response to the three magic words she must have said out loud. "I know, love."