Fate: Servant and Cook

by Serenarey Chiba

Shirou is forced back in time to save Arturia from her downfall, though he doesn't know how or what to do about it. He's not a fighter, but an idealist. Is he supposed to use his ideals to oppose, or supplement Arturia's? Saber/Shirou

6. Arc I: Trials and Errors 6

Okay, so here is Chapter 6. It stands around 16.5k words as is. As it's basically mid-December already, I'm going to close the poll that I have up on my profile. The winning votes stand at 10-15k words, so I will try to maintain that quota with each chapter.

As always, I very much appreciate the reviews and criticism everyone gives me, and it helps me to become a better author overall. So, keep doing what you're doing, and stuff.

Lastly, be sure to check my profile every so often. I leave snippets of the upcoming chapter for your enjoyment, and to give you a look into what's going to happen next. I also had to cut this chapter a little short, because the next scene I envisioned would have expanded this chapter by approximately 10k words or so. So...expect that in the next installment, I suppose. I'm also still looking for a beta reader. :)

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The room that Percival had taken him to was actually Percival's own, as Shirou wasn't technically part of the cooking staff yet. Percival had also wanted to make sure Shirou was in a place where he would easily be found again, someplace where "that fool Baeddan" wouldn't be able to get his "greasy" hands on him. Shirou had expected a barrage of questions or something of the sort, but Percival had simply lain him on a makeshift cot and bid him a good evening. Apparently, now that the king had returned, there was much business to be discussed among the remaining Order.

As soon as the next day dawned, Percival had dragged Shirou away from his resting place and out into the main wing of the castle. The first place Shirou was shown was all of the third floor where all the knights of the Order and many other highly-ranked officials slept. The fourth floor, he was told, was off-limits to all but the king's closest confidants, and the fifth floor was actually the roof. It was okay to go there, but he had to make his presence clearly known, or he might get shot by someone's arrow.

The second floor was reserved for lower-ranking officials, like Baeddan, as he was the Head Cook. Of course, many rooms on the second and third floors were empty, but that would change as King Arthur grew more influential, Percival had told him. The first floor was comprised of the Great Hall, the Chamber Room, the Throne Room, and other miscellaneous places that would actually have no relation to Shirou whatsoever. There was also the Grand Hall that everyone had to pass through to get anywhere at all, and it led directly to the Throne Room.

The east wing, quite deep in width, was and comprised of the kitchens on the main floor, the buttery, the winery, the storeroom, the pantry, and other food related things. The second floor was composed of the cleaning servants, and a majority of the other servants necessary to keeping the castle running smoothly, like the main cooking staff. The third floor housed various cleaning materials, such as makeshift brooms, towels for dusting, and other necessities, such as blankets and other household goods. The fourth floor of the east wing was currently devoid of anything until even more people moved in.

The west wing, which was approximately as deep in width as the east wing, used the space of all four floors. Up on the very top floor were all of the pages, three to four to a room, with the squires on the third floor, with one to two to a room. The second floor housed all of the appointed knights who were to stay with the castle and main troops. The ground floor was where the armory was located and the intel room. This was the room where the king ordinarily prepared the captains and knights for strategic maneuvers to be taken on the battlefield. Shirou wasn't allowed to go inside those particular rooms, but he did get a tour of the second, third, and fourth floors.

The last and final wing was the north wing. This wing was a bit of an oddity, as it could only be reached by detouring through the second floors of the east or west wings. It entrapped the castle gardens, and by going down to the first floor of the north wing, a person could reach a smaller chapel and a small, albeit wonderfully beautiful, resting place normally only visited by the king, queen, and their closest confidants. The gardens themselves were free for everyone to see, providing they had the time to do so. As for the hidden area that was restricted just to the select few, well, the little, lion cub made sure to guard the bridge entryway well. The second floor was simply a walkway, and the third and fourth floor were home to the several magicians who were employed to the king, and were receiving training from Merlin.

There was supposedly a hidden tower somewhere near the north wing, but a person wouldn't be able to see it unless Merlin wanted them to. It apparently was somehow linked to a trans-dimensional portal that would allow it to either appear of vanish with Merlin's will, or for those who had the key. King Arthur, Percival had been quick to say, was the only one who had that key aside from Merlin himself. Even if someone else stole the key from the king, somehow, they would just be incinerated as soon as they attempted to unlock the tower door. Shirou had vowed not to bother even considering trying to see what kind of key it was. Well, he didn't have much reason to try seeing Merlin in the first place anyway.

Percival had offered to show him around the grounds, too, but Shirou had asked to see the roof of the main wing first before anything else. Once they had reached the roof, despite Percival grumbling that there wasn't anything up there worth seeing, Shirou had walked to the outer wall and quickly hefted himself up onto it at one of the lower ridges. The archers on the roof stared at him as if he was crazy, but when they noticed Percival didn't make a move to stop him, they turned back to continue their surveillance.

Shirou had quickly funneled prana into his eyes and was immediately greeted with a view of not only the grounds in complete detail, but a basic layout of the city spanning out away from the castle. It really was a huge place and Shirou had been curious about how someone would think to protect a town so large. Obviously, its size had nothing on Fuyuki City, but it was still impressive. After a couple more minutes of looking out at the place, Shirou had jumped off of the wall and gone back to talk to Percival, saying he was finished. After that, Percival stated that he had to get Shirou to the kitchen by the scheduled time or the king would have his head.

At this point, they were walking down the stair column towards the first floor and Percival was warning Shirou about the boss he was soon to have.

"The guy is a complete madman, constantly ranting about this and that and perfection and how everything must be laid down so. 'Tis a shame that he somehow managed to snag himself the position as Head Cook, though the title comes nowhere close to actually fitting him."

Shirou frowned at Percival. "You don't seem to like him much."

"No, mate," Percival denied, "I don't think you understand. No one likes that whelp of a man, and even the king would like to do away with him. What's unfortunate is that he really is the one most knowledgeable about food in that ridiculous place. You understand now why I was so pleased that a man like you would show up out of nowhere and please the king as you have. The best route, of course, would be to make you Head Cook, but that won't happen."

"I don't think it would be right for me to take away that title after just getting here, anyway. I'm fine just helping out around the kitchen."

Percival grabbed hold of Shirou's hands and sniffed. "You, good sir, have a wonderful soul! So humble, so brilliant, you practically glow with magnificence! Are you certain you won't take my hand in marriage?"

Shirou peeled his hand out of Percival's grasp and shook his head. "Sorry, I'm into girls."

"Oh, I am, too, my good fellow. But everyone must have someone cook for them. You would be my husband, only second to the wife that I am to take in the future."

"Your wife wouldn't cook for you?"

"Indeed she might! But, what to do if she turns out to be a shrewd incapable of lifting a cutting utensil?"

The brunet sighed dramatically. "I would be fated to live a life of eating that which does not need cutting. In other words...the same life I currently live. How dreadful an existence to imagine."

Shirou chuckled a bit at the knight's antics. The guy was a real card, all right. Though, with Percival around, nothing was ever boring, and Shirou had no time to think about what had happened only a mere week before. The knight was always frolicking – no, this was not meant to be used as flowery language as the man truly did frolic – everywhere, and sometimes he would even skip. One time, as they were up on the second floor of the east wing, Percival had suddenly dashed down the corridor and flipped up the long skirt of one of the cleaning girls. She, of course, screamed and, for some reason, all the women looked at him as if he were the culprit. Their glares were reminiscent of Rin, Sakura, and Saber's glares and had freaked him out. He'd had to run away after the cackling knight to escape their fury.

"In any case," Percival said, continuing his bashing of Baeddan, "the only good thing about that louse would have to be his sister. The only reason I spoke to him in the first place was because I found out how absolutely, gloriously beautiful she is."

Percival clenched his fists tightly as he looked up at the ceiling with a smile upon his face. Shirou raised an eyebrow. "Did you manage to ever get with her?"

"Of course, my good man. At least once a week, if not seven, give or take a few nights," Percival admitted with a lecherous grin. "You see, I cannot sleep without exercising a bit beforehand. As such, deep in the night, I am always looking for a little bit of, well, fun, so to speak."

The redhead shook his head. "You seem like you have a little bit too much fun, if you ask me."

The knight drew back away from Shirou as they walked, seeming somewhat offended. "You just do not understand, mate. What is life for a man without a woman? Rather, I should believe that it is only by having that significant other that a man truly comes into his worth and becomes that of a true man. He becomes something pure, something untouchable, a powerful presence."

"So, you're trying to say that it's the woman that makes the man?"

"Precisely so! For instance, take a moment to consider the king, if you will. His Majesty is resolute and strong not only because he is naturally inclined to be, but because he has the backing of a strong woman like the queen! The queen would never consider leaving him either, because he also fulfills her in a way no other man could. They are the embodiment of perfection. In a way, I must say that I envy His Majesty's greatness."

Shirou had begun frowning partway through Percival's explanation. No, that wasn't the case at all. King Arthur was strong and resolute, sure. That much was true. However, she wasn't strong because of Guinevere, but because she was born and raised to be that way. Guinevere may have supported her, but in no way was the queen the king's reason for success. Not to mention that it was partially because of the queen that King Arthur had fallen in the first place. Shirou couldn't exactly place all the blame on Guinevere, though. He probably wouldn't have been able to deal with a situation like that either, no matter what the cost.

"I don't think that a person's success should have to be due to the support they have from someone else," Shirou started slowly, carefully thinking of how to word what he wanted to say. "People can succeed from sheer determination even if they have no one backing them. One of my closest friends had no one as she grew up, but she's still one of the strongest, unbelievably incredible people I've ever had the luck to meet."

Percival shook his head, his grin fading as he approached the discussion maturely. "I speak of matters of love, not matters of life. I believe it to be a fact that one is capable of so much more when they have that love bound to them. Do you honestly believe a person who has not loved could be stronger than one who has, or even one who has loved and lost?"

"I think that would depend on what trials the person who hasn't loved before had to deal with up until that point. If that person had lived a harsh life, and the person who had loved had lived an easy one, I sincerely doubt that the latter could defeat the former."

"Yes, I suppose that is true," the brunet conceded, looking down. "Then let us analyze this particular situation: both men have lived a similar life, yet one continues without knowing the concept of love while the other marries, has a family, and continues forth. Would you not say that the man with the family has much more to lose than the one without? In which case, the former would fight harder and triumph over the loveless one."

Shirou shook his head. "That's being too optimistic. The latter may not have had a family, but what of his pride and goals? Those are enough to propel a person forward through anything, and succeed no matter the strife."

"That is true, too. You present a wonderful point, my red-haired friend. I must consider this more deeply."

Percival and Shirou walked side by side, finally reaching the first flight and turning to head towards the east wing. The silence was welcome and unassuming, and Shirou had to be honest – it was nice having someone to bounce random ideals off of. He and Rin had always discussed a number of things in explicit detail, to the point where they would often lose track of the original question, but it had always been an interesting experience. She brought up so many points that he would never have considered in a million years.

Sir Percival was the first person in this time period Shirou could trade various ideas with and not have the take offense for whatever ideals he may have blabbed on about. Ceri hadn't been one for hypotheticals, but had been more focused on the present. In a way, Shirou supposed he could say that King Arthur had actually been the first person with whom he could talk about what-ifs, but those conversation had mostly been about his own future, so they didn't really count as much. It wasn't like he wouldn't have survived without the mental stimulation, but it did make him feel more at home, so to speak. It was a good feeling to have.

Percival turned to him again. "Perhaps I think this way because I love the idea of a happy ending. Fighting a war doesn't allow me to be so sentimental, not that I would have the time to consider such on the battlefield regardless."

"There's nothing wrong with having a happy ending," Shirou argued softly. "I just don't think you can place all your faith on a specific ideal and expect that to be the one that governs your entire life."

Wait, that didn't make sense. Wasn't that his sole reason for living, to become a hero? That is the only thing he had thought about for the entirety of his life after his father had passed away, and was how he became who he was up until that day. Shirou gritted his teeth as he thought over his comment. It wasn't wrong, but rather, it just conflicted with everything he'd done up until now, in a way. In another way, it entirely supported him.

"Right," Shirou continued. "It takes more than just an ideal. It takes everything you have that comes with zeroing in on that specific ideal. You can't just focus on one aspect, you have to carefully consider everything that comes with acting upon it. I have a goal, too, but if I didn't have the determination or a loose concept of what my goal was, then the ideal itself would be meaningless."

Yeah, saying he wanted to be a hero was fine, but unless he took the steps to fulfill his goal, then it would just remain an ideal. He had to work to make that possibility a reality, and not just something that floated around in his head when he wanted to feel better. It was why he had trained so hard, and had studied magecraft so feverously under Rin's tutelage. As Rin had made clear, ideals were nothing without gumption and sustenance. Sustenance, for fueling the gumption, and gumption for fueling the sustenance.

It was odd, Shirou thought with a frown. He had somehow forgotten about all of that. He had somehow forgotten, or misplaced in his mind, one of the most important pieces of his essence and being. When had that happened?

"Nary can I deny the words you speak, Shirou," Percival said, agreeing with the time traveler. "After all, it is not simply the love I seek that pushes me forward, but the love I gain from my woman and my tenaciousness that allows me to continued succeeding as much as I have. I also desire to strike down any enemy who would stand against my king or mean him harm."

"That's good to hear," Shirou said with a smile.

"Speaking of love," the knight continued, "have you ever loved a woman in a non-familial manner?"

Shirou quickly lost his smile. "Yes, once."

Percival was quick to latch onto the confession, missing the terseness in Shirou's tone. "Oh? And where do you keep this woman of yours? Do you hide her in a far off village?"

"She died a long time ago."

The mirth in Percival's expression vanished instantly, so swiftly in fact, that Shirou was shaken a bit at the transformation. The knight's blue eyes narrowed as he averted his gaze, mouth set in a frown.

"I see," he said simply, not offering up any more than that.

The two had stopped walking as Percival continued looking down, looking somewhat guilty. Shirou shifted around his shoulders, feeling sore from carrying his backpack all over the castle. The conversation had come to a dead halt thanks to him and the tension felt thick and uncomfortable.

"I'm okay though," Shirou said as he looked at his new friend, and began walking forward again with the knight matching his pace after a moment. "It was a short and sweet relationship, but I don't regret a thing. She wouldn't have wanted me to anyway."

"What was she like?" grudgingly asked Percival, unsure if he even should have.

"Strong, determined, someone who followed her ideals to her end. I guess in a way, she was the reason I came to understand that it's not just your ideals that make you strong, but everything that comes along with them. I was...blessed, to love her as I did and be loved like I was."

"She does seem rather brilliant, I will admit. What did she look like?" Percival ventured further.

Uh, was it really a good idea to say? Well, it wasn't like this was Japan, and besides, even Ceri had blonde hair and green eyes, right? This was Britain. Features like that were common. Yeah, telling him wouldn't really be a big deal.

"Blonde hair and green eyes," he said honestly.

"Oh, so you're into blondes, you say?" Percival said, cracking a hesitant smile. "Well, I have the very person for you!"

Shirou's eyebrows raised as Percival suddenly dashed forward down the hallway. The redhead had to break into a jog himself to catch up as Percival stopped next to a rather unimpressed looking person standing next to the main entrance of the kitchens. He gulped when he saw the brunet standing behind King Arthur and pinching her cheeks and creating a forced smile on her face. Shirou also took note of how her trembling right hand was barely inches away from where Excalibur was hooked to her belt. He wondered why she was walking around with it – had she been out on the grounds with the soldiers?

"Pershibal," she slurred out as Percival continued squeezing her cheeks, "if you do not get away from me right now, I will be forced to hurt you."

The brunet let go of her cheeks and then nuzzled his face against the king's. "See, Shirou? The king is a handsome blond with green eyes! He already has a wife, but the spot for his husband is still open."

Shirou wasn't the only one to suddenly take a step back away from the two – two boys who had been right behind the king before Percival had bounced over had also quickly separated themselves from the king. They hugged the outer wall tightly and Shirou felt like doing much of the same.

As Percival leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, he was surprised to suddenly find himself holding nothing but thin air right before something very, very hard slammed into his chest, sending him flying back and sprawling onto the stone ground. Shirou gaped with wide eyes as King Arthur gently drew her foot back and set it back down on the ground lightly and gently touched her crown – wow, she had a crown? That was pretty cool – to fix its position slightly. Her royal blue skirt and the cape attached to her left shoulder flowed around before eventually falling still while Percival didn't even move a muscle. For a moment, Shirou had thought he was practically dead before Percival suddenly raised an arm and pointed a finger at the ceiling, exclaiming,

"How feisty His Majesty is! What a fine husband!"

His arm then fell back onto the ground with a clank as he groaned slightly.

Shirou jumped a bit when the king turned her annoyed gaze over towards him. Her cheeks appeared to be flushed a bit red, but that was probably because of how hard Percival had been pinching them.

"Should you deign to keep him as your company, Shirou," she warned, tone completely serious, "I plead that you never mimic his mannerisms. For your own sake."

For a second there, Shirou thought that Percival really had died from the king's strike until the man groaned again and pushed himself up off of the ground. King Arthur and the redhead watched as Percival stood up, bowed over a bit briefly, and then drew back up to his full height again. He clutched tightly at his chest, looking slightly miserable and yet impressed at the same time.

"I believe that was one of your hardest kicks to date, Your Majesty. Good show, good show."

"I thank you for giving Shirou a tour," the king said, ignoring Percival's comment. "You are no longer needed at this time. I ask that you do not be late to the meeting this afternoon. We have much to discuss concerning the mission you set off upon."

"As you say, Your Majesty," Percival said, bowing deeply. Then, he looked at Shirou with a grin and added, "I am telling you, the king would make a grand husband!"

"Percival," King Arthur warned, her mouth firming with disapproval.

The brunet spared the two one last grin before turning away and walking back down the corridor, head held high. Both the blonde and the redhead watched him walk away, and once he was far enough away, King Arthur turned towards Shirou, face expressionless. He looked back at her expectantly, but she didn't say anything and merely frowned at him as the occasional person walked down the corridor doing whatever task necessary. Then, she appeared to strengthen her resolve and steel herself – for what, he wasn't quite certain.

"Behind me, as I am sure you are now more than well aware," she began, "stand the kitchens necessary for preparing the food meant for all of the people within the castle. Within those kitchens is a staff of approximately nearly one hundred people: Baeddan, who is the Head Cook, ten to fifteen others who make up the 'upper echelons', so to speak, and the remaining members who act as normal servants. All of your orders will ultimately either come from Baeddan himself, or filter through the upper echelons through a branching system. Do you understand what I have said thus far?"

Shirou nodded silently. Percival hadn't had too many good words to say about the man, but after dealing with Matou Shinji at his worst, how bad could this guy possibly be? If nothing else, Shirou thought, he might be able to keep his head ducked down and stay out of trouble.

"Good," King Arthur acknowledged with a nod. "Then there is no need to explain myself any further on that matter. As I have promised, I will introduce you to Baeddan and have you accommodated appropriately. However, as I have declared once before, this will be the end of my direct support to you – you will need to find your own place as a cook and come into yourself on your own. Do you understand?"

The redhead nodded again, noticing the two boys passing him glances every now and then. Was he that interesting to look at? He turned his gaze back to the king as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I wish to hear your vocal assertion that you have heard and understood my words."

"I understand," Shirou said simply.

"I do not believe you have replied in full, Shirou."

He stared at her, not sure what else he was supposed to say. He shifted his gaze left to think about a word more formal than "understand", but wasn't really coming up with anything. Then he shifted his gaze to the right, feeling somewhat troubled. One of the boys standing next to the king mouthed a couple of words, and Shirou had to narrow his eyes and concentrate on the mouth movements really hard. Hearing the old tongue and actually recognizing it without sound were two completely different things. King Arthur followed his gaze and turned to look at the boy herself, but he had quickly reverted back to a serious countenance. She frowned further and turned back to face Shirou.

"Shirou. Your reply."

"Uh," Shirou muttered, paying very close attention to the boy who had renewed his efforts to help the confused redhead, "uh, uh, oh. Oh! I mean, right! I understand, Your Majesty."

King Arthur let out a light sigh and scowled softly at the two boys standing behind her. Shaking her head slightly, she said, "Very good. Though it is worrisome that you needed to confer to another person before you realized your mistake."

"Right, I'm sorry."

She raised an eyebrow, and Shirou quickly added, "Your Majesty."

"Better late than never, I suppose," she muttered. "In any case, as I have said, I will no longer be able to help you directly. If you need something of me, though I could not possibly imagine what situation would require as much, you must request that assistance through the proper chain-of-command, which, in your case, would be to start off with your upper echelons. That will allow for seamless communication to occur.

"Which brings me to the foremost important point," King Arthur affirmed. "You are no longer directly under my protection. Of course, should there be an attack, and you are, for one reason or another, within range of me, I will protect you as a king and a knight. However, with this, you truly are on your own. If a problem occurs and you are at the crux of it, I will not be able to spare you due to any pointless or random sentiments. Should you do something grave enough to require my attention, I may be forced to imprison you thusly and have you prosecuted and publically executed. Also, depending on the nature of your transgression, perhaps tortured as well."

She said all of that without a hint of embarrassment or hesitation. In other words, she meant every word – if something happened and someone claimed he was the cause of it, that would be the end of him. Period. No ifs, ands, or buts. Shirou blinked a few times as he averted his glance, thinking about what she had told him seriously.

"I doubt it will ever come to that, however," she said, though Shirou definitely detected a hint of warning in her tone. "So, and I ask this in the most sincere manner possible: please do not cause any unnecessary trouble, whether in the near future or far. You are now a person of my kingdom, and I do not wish harm to befall you, but should that happen, there will be nothing more I will be able to do in such a situation. I am bound to the oaths I vowed once I became king. Now, shall we proceed with introductions?"

She turned to open the kitchen door before turning back and looking at him again. "Ah, and one last thing: the food you made during our journey – it was more than acceptable. I had meant to make that clear, but did not have the opportunity. My apologies."

King Arthur pushed the door open as Shirou pondered over her words and the two walked in, with the two boys remaining outside to wait for the king to come back out. Shirou wasn't sure what he had been expecting when he first went into the room with her. If nothing else, he hadn't ever thought kitchens could be so large. Not just large, either, but overwhelmingly so.

The entire room spanned the length of nearly fifty meters at the very least from north to south, was around twenty meters deep from east to west, and was the room closest to the southern side of the castle. The tall ceilings arched far over his head, each stone brick blackened with soot and coal used to maintain the cooking hearths. Metal pipes ran along the edges towards the outside, filtering out the hazardous fumes from the main area. All three of the comparatively small fireplaces were placed against the southern wall, each crackling and popping violently as they fueled heat for the food cooking over it. The northern wall opened up to an inner passageway that probably traveled to the other rooms alongside of the Great Hall.

Practically forgetting that he was supposed to stay close to the king, Shirou took a few steps forward, his golden-brown eyes shifting back and forth as he took in everything there was to be seen. Several tables laden with plates – wait, didn't Saber say there weren't any plates to be found in her time? Maybe she meant serving plates, because there were definitely a ton of plates to be seen, mostly stocked with a lot of meats or other goods. Vegetables, fruits, and different cheeses lined the many tables running along the length of the room, with several iron bars hanging down from the ceiling to hold onto the several hanging pots, pans, and other materials.

Shirou navigated around someone, hardly noticing them as he approached the table closest to him and traced the shape of a few knives laying down its top. He looked up again towards the hearths, and the spinning wheel up in the corner nearest to northernmost hearth caught his curiosity. Shirou looked closely at the wheel and his eyes widened when he realized there was a dog running inside of the wheel, and the wheel was, in turn, connected with each spit as they spun the meat attached to them. He hadn't realized that in the medieval period, they'd used dogs as a type of electricity. That would probably have fallen under animal cruelty in his time.

The westernmost wall was where all of the, by his standards, old fashioned ovens were. The metal pipes he had seen before were funneling the fumes from the coal beneath the ovens and essentially keeping the area nice and clean. There were nearly six ovens lining the wall, each one right beside the other. That was a safety hazard if he'd ever seen one. Lining the easternmost walls, near the doors he and the king had entered through, were a great number of shelves that held a lot of odds and ends. He mostly saw a lot of bowls, but – and Saber had been right – no plates.

How was there not a single serving plate to be found anywhere within the entire castle? Did they really just eat their food right off of the table? Royalty ate their food right off the table? Where were the forks, spoons, and knives? It wasn't as if they didn't exist in some form or fashion. Shirou rubbed his face with a hand – the kitchen was amazingly overwhelming and it had plenty to offer him, but he had definitely taken things in the future for granted. Using dogs for manpower definitely couldn't be a good idea, either. The entire kitchen was unbelievable, though. Even if he didn't have state-of-the-art materials and appliances to work with, it was definitely a souped up kitchen for the sixth century.

The thing that blew his mind away the most, though, had to be how busy it was. She hadn't been kidding when she said there were nearly one hundred people buzzing around, preparing meals. It was after noon, now, right? That meant that people were actually eating lunch or whatever as he stood there gawking, and as he'd looked around, he'd had to jump out of the way of a number of people as they darted back and forth. He was pretty sure, actually, that two hundred people could fit within the kitchen alone, but he also saw a number of people racing in and out of the room performing various tasks.

Some people were taking care of the meat specifically, others were mashing things into bowls – mortar and pestles? – some were cutting up something or another, others were attending to the ovens, a few were feeding the fires with wood and the ovens with coal, a number of people were washing a good amount of dishes in the sinks lining the walls to the left and the right of the door leading to the passageway, and an incredible amount of other things were being done as well. Was it a good idea to be sweeping as people were cooking? That was probably not very hygienic, and what were they using to wash those dishes? Liquid soap obviously hadn't existed back then, so, were they just soaking them in regular water? How did they scrub them?

"Is that cold water?" he asked himself while frowning a bit.

"Is cold water a problem?" asked a voice from beside him, and Shirou felt himself jump a bit. Holy crap, he'd forgotten that she was still there.

"No," he sighed, willing himself to calm down as he turned toward the king next to him. "Hot water would probably help make them a bit cleaner though. But wow, this kitchen is unbelievable. It's so busy and lively. It's incredible. A lot of work has obviously gone into this place."

Though King Arthur didn't physically express anything, he could feel the warmth in her words as she responded,

"I am glad to hear the kitchen meets your expectations, Shirou."

She gestured to her right and Shirou took notice of the man standing next to her. Standing at nearly 175 centimeters, he was of an average height for a man. His rich, raven hair was cut short and his chocolate-brown eyes seem to pierce through to Shirou's soul as the man looked him over. The man wore a jet-black tunic that was tied at the waist with a yellow sash. The blackness of the tunic carried on down to his breeches as well, which were also accompanied by blackened leather boots. He kind of reminded Shirou of an assassin of sorts, save for the yellow sash that added just a bit of color. The man looked less than impressed with the redhead in front of him.

"Baeddan," King Arthur said, "this is Shirou, the man I spoke of before. And Shirou," she continued, turning back to look at the time traveler, "this is Baeddan, the person you will be working for starting today. You will report to him for your future duties."

Baeddan and Shirou measured each other up, Shirou unsure of what to say. He didn't get the sense that Baeddan was a bad person overall, and definitely not to the extent that Percival had made him seem. Rather, he seemed to just be a serious person and –

"I suppose I could put him in the spinning wheel with the dog."

And, Shirou took that back – the guy was asking to be punched in the face.

Shirou didn't even bother to mask his look of anger and King Arthur didn't appear very happy with Baeddan's response either. She fixed the Head Cook with a glare, obviously somewhat irritated.

"You will do no such thing, Baeddan," she stated clearly, lest the other man try to ignore her in some manner. "You have pestered me daily for months for more assistants, and with each demand, my steward has procured yet more and more people to work under your service. Yet, you dare turn down the one person that I have personally found fitting for this profession, and have given a solid recommendation?"

"Would working with the pigs and oxen prove a better job then, Your Majesty?" Baeddan questioned, seemingly genuinely curious.

For a moment, the king merely stared at the other man who seemed undeterred in the slightest. She took in a short breath, let it out slowly, and turned to face Baeddan, green eyes cloudy and dark.

"You test my patience, Baeddan. Perhaps I have been too lax in allowing you such freedom to this day," she spoke slowly, her voice deeper than usual. "Allow me to be more specific: you will be using this man in the main kitchen, not as a runner, not as a server, not as a bottler, not as anyone who does not actively participate within the kitchens where we currently stand. Do you understand?"

"I would sooner cut the cur up and serve him as slabs of steak than have him prepare food and potentially bring harm to Your Majesty."

Oh, whoa, this guy was, for lack of any better words, a dick. Cut him up and serve him as pieces of steak? Shirou couldn't even fathom such an idea, but after thinking over it, he took a quick peek down the collar of his tunic. He hadn't been exercising like he'd done so much in the future, but he hadn't really lost any of his muscle tone and there was hardly any flab on his body at all. He wouldn't make much of a good steak, he surmised in the end.

"Cur?" King Arthur repeated, almost with disbelief.

"You would have the enemy traipse around in one of the most important rooms of the castle, a room where miracles are made and people are essentially resuscitated and able to continue with their existences?" asked Baeddan, placing his hands on his hips. He snorted as he turned and walked away to direct a few people handling the fires of the hearths.

Shirou just watched him walk away before looking back at the blonde beside him. She hadn't bothered to chase him down or anything, but simply stood there, the index finger of her left hand tapping the hilt of Excalibur with an uneven rhythm. Her narrowed eyes were closed as she appeared to be deep in thought. He looked around them and saw that no one dared approach the door they were right in front of, instead darting through the inner passageway and taking the long way around to get to where they needed to go.

Well, it looked like he wasn't going to be working in the kitchen anytime soon. That was a shame – he had kind of been looking forward to it, especially after seeing what the kitchen looked like. What else was there left for him to do, though? If worse came to worst, Shirou could try becoming a soldier after all, but he didn't think himself ready for that kind of leap yet. Maybe he could work with the cleaning staff? As long as he was still in Camelot, maybe it didn't really matter all that much what he did. Cooking had seemed like it would be an interesting experience, though.

"I sincerely despise that man."

The words were spoken softly enough that Shirou could barely hear them over the roar of the kitchen itself, so softly that he wasn't sure if he had heard correctly at all. As she wasn't paying him any particular attention, her glare focused on the retreating back of Baeddan, he wasn't sure it was even an admission that he had been meant to be privy to in the first place. In a way though, Shirou thought as he crossed his arms over his chest, it was nice to hear words like that come out of her mouth. She had such deft control over her emotions and speech that she didn't seem human most of the time, which he knew had been one of the reasons that led to her eventual downfall.

That...was incredibly depressing to consider. Shirou still didn't know how much time he had left, but what he did know, or what he assumed, was that she was somewhere in the earlier years of her reign. The castle wasn't as busy as it could possibly be, her influence was still lacking, and something about her just made him feel like there was still hope. She still had her humanity, as opposed to the person he had met that one fateful night, the one who had lost everything and more. The King Arthur next to him still had time – there was still hope. There was, but, what was he supposed to do about that?

King Arthur cursed softly and looked at Shirou, saying, "Remain here. I will return with Baeddan shortly."

"Wait," he spoke up, reaching out for her. "Maybe this isn't a good idea after all. Your Majesty."

She frowned at him. "Did you not desire to work in the kitchen?"

"I do, but not if he plans to cut me up and feed me to people. Or treat me like a dog."

"Hm, indeed," she agreed softly. "You need not concern yourself with that empty threat. I will deal with this problem accordingly."

He felt the air chill a bit as she straightened her shoulders even more than usual. She turned away from him, lowered her chin slightly, clenched her fists, and marched over to where the other man was talking to – read: admonishing, berating, chastising – a person who was working the hearths. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, her right hand shot forward and grabbed hold of Baeddan by the front of his tunic. He seemed appalled when he looked at her, and she pulled him down to her eye level, green eyes glaring fiercely.

"My business with you is not yet finished," she spat out softly, so soft that the people around them would hardly hear her, if at all. "Now, do you think yourself able to walk back on your own, or shall I assist you in that endeavor?"

Baeddan glanced around quickly to see who might have been watching them. The king had been quiet enough with her words that no one had paid them any more attention than when she had first strode in. However, being that she was the king, there was hardly any possibility that they weren't being carefully watched at that very moment. He swatted her hand away, righted his tunic, and with a small "hmph", walked back over to where Shirou was standing warily.

King Arthur followed after, her gaze focused on Baeddan's back until she was again took a position next to Shirou. Scowling, she let her left hand rest on Excalibur's hilt to serve as a warning to the Head Cook, just in case he had any plans to cause her further aggrieve. Baeddan, taking the hint, merely glared back at her with his head held high.

"Really, Baeddan," the king started, voice still rich with anger, "must you cause me so much stress? Introductions should be a simple, timely action to deal with, and yet, you make any conversation we have so very difficult on a regular basis."

"What can I say?" Baeddan retorted. "Your charm leaves much to be desired, King."

"I could not hardly care less," came the biting reply. "Who are you to walk away in the midst of our discussion? Did you not learn any manners as a child?"

"An interesting question. Perhaps I should entertain my father with such a discussion. Should I tell him that King Arthur bullied me into following his every whim?"

"I shan't have to say that, as a king, I need not 'bully' you to do anything."

"Hmph, what a child you must be to always rely on your status to have your way. Perhaps once you finally grow into a man, you'll recognize what it means to have a real discussion."

Shirou saw the king's fists clench and tighten to the point where he could practically hear the steel of her armor grind together slightly. Aside of her eyes growing an even darker green and the quickness with which they defocused and refocused, if he hadn't been well-acquainted with her, he would never have known that she was ripe with fury. Of course, that was to be expected – Baeddan had both stomped on her pride as not only a king, but a man, and given a swift kick to the rear on top of that by saying her age made her incompetent. It was probably safe to say that she was pissed, and Shirou was only too happy to note that he was not the target of her anger.

"I will have you pay for that slight, Baeddan," she mustered out as calmly as she could.

"Throwing a fit now, are we, Your Highness?" Baeddan remarked lightly, crossing his arms across his chest and appearing slightly amused. "Take that demon and be gone from here with your jests, Your Majesty. Though I do find it amusing that you are capable of leading me on like so. New help, indeed."

"I see no demon present," King Arthur was quick to retort through clenched teeth, "but what I do see is someone who will soon regret his words if he does not care to recall the position he currently is in."

"Quite the empty threat," Baeddan countered with a grin. "Your Majesty and I are both well aware that I am the best cook within the whole of England, and that is why I work here at Your Majesty's castle. The best, and most qualified. You would never do away with me."

"How odd. As a matter of fact, I was of the mind that there was someone even far better than a person of your standard standing here in this kitchen with us."

"Impossible," Baeddan rebuked with a frown. "If nothing else, I have utmost confidence, to the point of arrogance, in my cooking abilities."

"Ah, but 'tis true. And yes, the person I refer to is the very one you wished to have sliced up into steaks."

The sarcasm is strong with this one, Shirou thought.

As Baeddan's intense gaze suddenly switched over to look at him, Shirou had to wonder what kind of relationship the king had with Baeddan. In a way, they seemed like a bickering couple – a couple that should have divorced before even getting married in the first place. However, with the amount of enmity they were emitting, he knew there was some real hatred being passed between the two, despite their light banter. If she hated the guy so much, why didn't she just get rid of him?

"Perhaps he is capable of cutting a few carrots here and there."

Shirou felt a headache coming on, but noticed that King Arthur didn't seem the least bit surprised. Had she expected the man to say as much?

Man, Baeddan was way too much – he had to be about the biggest asshole in England, and that was saying something. Shirou ran his hands back and forth through his hair, feeling a bit angry. When he took notice of his surroundings again, though, he saw that both the king and Head Cook were staring at him, with the former's frustration quite palpable to see. Baeddan was grinning fiercely when Shirou made eye contact with him. King Arthur simply glared at him – oh, great, now he was the target of her anger...again.

"Oh, I'm an asshole now, am I? I cannot say that I disagree with you, but I am less than keen on hearing such words from a fool such as yourself."

Damn it, he'd given voice to his thoughts again. That was seriously a bad habit.

Baeddan turned to the king, bowed, and said, "Your Majesty, I will be more than happy to take this...man, off of your hands. With pleasure, truly."

"See that he is taken care of, then," sighed King Arthur.

Then, as she turned back around, she caught Shirou's worried gaze with a glare of her own, and softly, just so only he would hear, asked,

"Do you take such pleasure in digging your own grave? Did I not inform you that I would take care of the situation? You have just managed to place yourself on his blacklist. Do not cause me any further trouble than this in the future."

She was really mad, though the anger seemed be directed between both him and Baeddan – mostly at the latter. He bowed his head slightly, making sure not to make eye contact with her as he did. Shirou really hadn't planned to get involved in their little spat, but he apparently hadn't kicked that bad habit yet. If it wasn't his words, - the mouth was the cause of all calamity, after all – then it was his inability to hide his facial expressions, which was practically just as bad. When he opened his eyes and stood up straight again, he saw that she had forgiven him silently, if only just barely.

"Shirou," she said calmly, "I have thus now fulfilled my promise to you. Have you any further questions?"

He hesitated slightly before just shaking his head in the end. He'd have to figure stuff out on his own.

King Arthur nodded. "Then I must now bid you farewell as I have other pressing matters to attend to. You will now report here as ordered by Baeddan, and Shirou... Godspeed."

He noticed there was a warning somewhere in those last two words of hers but was unable to comprehend what had actually just happened as she walked past him, her armor clinking gently all the while. She walked out of the kitchen and Shirou watched as the wooden door closed, creaking all the while. He really was on his own and left to his own devices now. And, just what the heck had she meant when she said he was on Baeddan's blacklist? Well, no, it obviously meant what he thought it meant, but was it all that big a deal?

The clap of a hand on his shoulder brought Shirou back to reality and he turned to see a grinning Baeddan standing right next to him. Scowling a bit, Shirou pushed off the other man's hand and moved back a few steps. Baeddan merely kept smiling, his brown eyes twinkling with delight as he acknowledged the redhead.

"Tell me, friend, are you hungry?"

"Depends," was Shirou's guarded answer.

"I'll have you eat your meals in the Great Hall today then. Only today, though, while I'm in a good mood. I'll also have your rooming situation dealt with, and I'll even relieve you of any duties I might have otherwise assigned you. Ah, 'tis a sweet day."

"What's going on?" asked Shirou, not entirely sure if he wanted to know or not.

"I think I actually will make you cut the vegetables, though. Maybe if you can handle that, then maybe, just maybe, I'll give you more responsibility. Quite doubtful that you'll even know which way to hold a knife at all, though, so, probably not."

Baeddan had completely ignored Shirou's question. He really did appear to be genuinely happy for whatever reason, a fact that was quite easily understood by the way he would raise his hands up towards the ceiling and praise God for blessing him with such a life. Baeddan pumped his right fist a few times before sliding back over to Shirou's side and wrapping an arm around Shirou's shoulders amiably. The smile on the other man's face was beginning to creep Shirou out.

"Friend, I ask you, did you see the look upon the king's face? You," Baeddan remarked cheerfully, jabbing a finger into Shirou's chest a few times, "must be quite the special peasant. Never have I seen the king lose his composure so, well, not to that degree. And did you see his face when I called you a cur? You, my good sir, are quite the man. I like you!"

"You said you wanted to cut me up into steaks."

"Yes, but no, friend! You see, that was before you called me an 'asshole', of all things. You see, that takes some audacity, and never have I been called such a thing to my face, of all things. I admire that spirit of yours! Normally, I would have killed you with a butcher knife myself, but seeing as I was able to pay witness to such an event, I have thought to spare you. Isn't that wonderful?"

Well, that was another strange person that Shirou could add to his list of oddities. Did he just have some sort of penchant for drawing in strange, nonsensical people? Taiga was downright crazy, Shinji had been a lunatic during the war, Sakura – well, he'd never known what was going on with her, Rin was a nut, – nice and kind, but a nut – Issei had that thing against Rin, Myrus had, well, he was Merlin, so that was self-explanatory, and Saber had been a bit of an oddity, too, in that she loved food far more than a person should have. Now, he could officially add Percival and Baeddan to that list as well. Hm, well, normalcy was overrated, anyway.

"So," Shirou began, trying to grasp an understanding of the other man, "we're cool? I mean, you're fine with me?"

"Oh, no, you silly monkey!" Baeddan denied happily. "I hate you, abhor you, loathe you even, for calling me such a rude term. Who do you think you are, foreigner, to label me like that? I'll have you know that you know absolutely nothing about me, and yet, you dare to insult me? Such cruelty, but what else is to be expected from a mere plebian?"

Baeddan lost his smile with his next words. "However, Shirou, was it? I'll just call you Ro" – damn it, there was that name again – "because it's easier. So, Ro, I now know that you are the key to toying with that fool king."

"Your words sound an awful lot like treason to me," Shirou murmured, his eyes narrowing.

"Of course not. King Arthur is absolute and amazing in every way. He's a fool though – he thinks I'll be taken aback by having some foreigner in my kitchen? He thinks I will rage and destroy everything in my wake and give him a reason to kick me out? Oh no, my friend. That will not be happening. You'll see to that yourself."

"So, you're an egotistical asshole, then."

"Now, there you go with the rude statements again. I will be making your life a living hell starting tomorrow," Baeddan replied, smiling again. "I can't wait. For now, however..."

The egoist turned away from Shirou, his facial expression changing to something far more serious as he sneered at a man sweeping out food particles from beneath the food preparation tables. Baeddan snapped his fingers a couple of times.

"You there. What was it again, Zago? Zagobel! You, come here, now."

"Zagobel" shifted his gaze over from he stood, looking less than amused with the man who had called for him. His cloudy-grey eyes flicked over at Shirou once briefly before shifting back to look at Baeddan. He turned around and walked over to Baeddan, gripping the broom in his left hand tightly.

"You called?" drawled out "Zagobel", his eyebrows raising as he seemed to feign interest. "And for the tenth time, my name isn't Zagobel. It's Dagobert."

Baeddan slapped Dagobert across his face, the noise barely audible with the backdrop of noise within the kitchen. Dagobert didn't react in the slightest, just rolling his head back around to continue staring at Baeddan with boredom.

"You presume to think I care," Baeddan sniffed. "Well, whatever your name is, you're currently alone in your room, am I correct?"

"Yeah."

Baeddan seemed a bit miffed with the plain manner in which Dagobert answered, but ended up ignoring it.

"Good, good. This boy, Ro, will be your new roommate. You've been lucky to be alone until now, but soon, you, too, will be living with three roommates."

"Goodie."

Shirou bit his bottom lip, unsure of whether to make fun of Baeddan for how annoyed he looked, or just stay silent to keep himself from getting into more trouble. After a few seconds, he realized that causing trouble was the one thing the king had ordered for him not to do, so he could obey at least that much. As far as first impressions went, he was pretty set on the type of person he'd judged Baeddan to be, but Dagobert was rather mysterious. Aside of the assertion of his own name, everything else he said was just one-worded phrasings. There wasn't much to go off of, but since they'd just met, that was only natural.

"Okay. Sure."

Shirou raised his eyebrows as he came back to the present and he glanced at the other two men, one at a time. Dagobert thrust the broom at Baeddan, who looked down his nose at it, as if even touching it was something far beneath him. Dagobert frowned at him a bit, held up the broom and then just let it drop to the ground as he turned away. He walked past Shirou, pulled one of the large, wooden doors open, and then went out into the corridor. Shirou took one last look back at Baeddan, but the other man had long since dismissed him, instead choosing to look at the broom as if it was something distasteful and wrong to touch. Letting out a whoosh of air, he, too, opened the door and walked out of the room.

Dagobert spared him a glance. "Let's go."

"Okay. Where are we off to again?"

"You weren't listening?"

Suddenly, memories of being chastised by Saber and Rin for not paying attention flooded his mind. It was a bad habit of his that he knew he needed to rein in, but he'd always forget. He hoped he didn't anger his new roomie – who knew what kind of temper the man had? Shirou didn't particularly desire to start off on the wrong foot, as he had with practically everyone else in this time period. He kind of had a knack for doing so, though.

He shook his head slowly to answer the other man's question.

Dagobert stared at him for a short while before clucking his tongue and turning away with an expression of frustration.

"Shit. I wasn't, either. Damn, now what?" After thinking for a bit, he then said, "Fuck. Who the hell cares? Let's go get some grub or something."

"Uh, okay, but what about the room thing?"

"I haven't eaten for the past seven fucking hours. We're getting some damn food first."

Dagobert swiveled around and, with Shirou following behind dutifully, headed for the southern exit so they could head around to the main entrance and hit the Great Hall from there. The inner passageways were only for the servants to get around easily when serving food and the like, but if they were going to actually partake in meals themselves, they had to go in through the proper entrance. The Great Hall was actually split up into two separate areas – the real Great Hall was separated by a thick curtain that stretched across the entire room, and was for the explicit use of the king, queen, and highly-ranked knights, with an entirely separate entrance, as well. When there were guests, the curtain could be opened and the entire room used for the entertainment of the guests.

The other area of the Great Hall was technically called the Mess Hall, and was meant for the soldiers and other higher-classed individuals to use. As most of the soldiers ate their morning meals anywhere from six to eight in the morning before taking to their duties, servants were forced to eat any time before that, which usually meant somewhere between four and six, providing there was actually food ready for them, or sometime from around eight-thirty to ten, when the soldiers would be in again for a quick lunch. If the servants were unfortunate enough to miss these windows, they were forced to stand with their meals, or just skip them entirely.

Regardless, what the servants ate was not normally something a person of good sense would call food fit for a person. The early morning hours were the leftovers from the day prior, the mid-morning hours were laden with scraps from the six-to-eight time slot, and so forth. The real food was served to the people who played a more solid role in the castle or battles. Since Shirou was new though, the two would be able to eat the food normally given to soldiers – the food given to the royalty was a dream that would never be attained by the likes of them, said Dagobert.

If what Saber had said was anything to go by, though, Shirou doubted they were really missing out on very much. He peered around as Dagobert led him to a serving table where they would both pick up pieces of their meals and carry them back to whatever table they were going to sit at. They were only allowed to have as much as they could carry, so it wasn't really surprising to Shirou when he saw Dagobert load up as much food as physically possible. Having eaten with Percival barely a few hours earlier, Shirou wasn't ridiculously hungry, but had been sure to grab some meat, hard bread, and a some soup in a metal container. When Shirou sat down next to his compatriot, the latter immediately turned to look at him, both of his cheeks stuffed with food.

"Ro, right?" Dagobert managed in between chews. "I heard that there was this guy who came with the king from someplace, but never knew it'd be you."

"It's Shirou, actually," the redhead grumbled slightly. "No one can ever say my name right around here."

"Oh, hey, man, I hear you," the other man agreed. "My name's actually pronounced Dah-go-berh, you know, because the 't' is silent and shit. No one gets it right, so I tell them to call me 'Dago', but then some stupid fuck called me 'Zago' as a mistake, and that one stuck for some reason. Well, better than 'Bert', I guess."

"Dagobert," Shirou repeated, sounding it out slowly. "That name doesn't seem indigenous to Britain somehow."

"It ain't, brother," Zago confessed. "Let's just say that I'm not really from around these parts."

"So, what should I call you? Dagobert, – am I saying that right? – Dago, Zago?"

"Baeddan hates you well enough, so you must be a good sort. You can call me Zago, I guess."

Shirou took a bite from a piece of meat and found it incredibly bland. Nothing was seasoned at all here in the past – it really was just used for sustenance to survive to see another day. There was really nothing special about it at all. The soup was tasteless as well, and the bread was practically a rock. Shirou was sure he could've skipped it across water without too much difficult, or he could use it as a baseball, or something.

"What's the deal with Baeddan anyway?" Shirou asked after a while, the question having floated around his head for a while. "King Arthur didn't seem to be too pleased with him."

"He wouldn't be. Baeddan is basically the bane of the king's existence, or one of them, at least. The guy takes a piss on King Arthur every chance he gets. If he ain't doing that, he's constantly complaining about the lack of staff, which is fucking stupid since we've got more than enough people for right now, if he'd actually use us right. The fucker is an asshole, and I'm totally for King Arthur kicking his dumb ass out of Camelot."

Zago glanced around quickly before whispering, "Eh, but you didn't hear that from me, mate."

"You don't seem to like him much either," Shirou whispered back.

"That's because he's arrogant about shit he knows nothing about. You heard that line about how he's supposedly the best cook in all of Britain, right? That's so far from the truth that it kills me to hear it. The fucker."

Shirou tilted his head, and rolled the piece of bread in front of him on the table. He was seriously thinking of just chucking it – it was practically inedible. Maybe if he dipped it in the soup, would that help...?

"Isn't that a bit cruel?" he asked innocently. "He seemed pretty confident."

"Yeah, he's got confidence in spades, but the guy has no taste buds. No, don't look at me like that. I mean, literally, has no taste buds. He can't taste the shit he puts out, but is more than willing to make everyone else eat the crap. Actually, we lesser people are way better off. I feel bad for the king. Baeddan actually tries to cook fancy stuff for him."

Maybe that was what Saber had meant by "crude". Well, actually, hearing that information only made him all the more curious as to how Baeddan became the Head Cook in the first place – King Arthur obviously didn't like him, nor did a lot of the staff, seemingly. Shirou tapped his finger on the piece of bread before eventually just putting it into the cold soup and letting it sit there for a while.

"I've been wondering," he said, frowning down at the soup and at the piece of bread that refused to get soggy. "Why is he still here, anyway? Why doesn't the king just toss him out?"

"Can't."

"Why not?"

Zago waved his hand back and forth lightly, looking somewhat annoyed. "Something about some debt or whatever. Don't ask me – don't care, can't find the will to care. I have no fucks to give on that matter. If the guy could actually taste the crap he put out, I'm pretty sure he'd actually be a damn amazing cook. He's got the technique and skills, but his one Achilles' Heel is his damn inability to taste anything. A cook who can't taste. Seriously?"

Zago peeked over at the bread stubbornly refusing to turn soggy in Shirou's soup bowl and pointed at it, asking, "You going to eat that?"

Shirou shielded his bowl of soup away from Zago with a small frown. "You talk a lot more now than you did in the kitchen."

"Brother, I am one of the most talkative people you will ever meet. I just hate that pissant because if anything bad happens, it's always the lower servants' faults, never his. He takes the position of being like a god within the kitchen, so much that no one can even come close to approaching his brilliance there. Besides, speaking in monosyllables when I can makes him unbelievably, incredibly, indescribably angry. When he's angry, he kicks you out of the kitchen. Sure, the next day is pretty bad, but hey, where's the harm in a few extra hours of sleep behind a bag of flour somewhere?"

Zago tapped his fingers on the table rhythmically, his food already eaten. Shirou looked forlornly at the piece of bread that was still too hard to eat, sighed, and just drank the soup instead. As expected, it was completely bland and tasteless and left him wanting for something a bit better. As soon as Zago saw that Shirou was finished eating, he waved for the latter to get up and follow him. The two left the Great Hall with Zago explaining how things worked in the kitchen and in general.

The mornings begin incredibly early at anywhere from four to five in the morning to begin preparations for the morning service, and none of the servants received breaks until approximately nine or so, but only for half an hour, give or take a few minutes. Even then, the breaks were taken in shifts, and, if Baeddan hated the person enough, they might not receive a break for the entirety of the day, disregarding bathroom breaks. The noon service lasted from ten until around two, which meant everyone was usually rushing around for the full four hours, plus some time after for cleaning the kitchen.

It was after the lunch menu that the servants received their largest break of nearly a couple of hours. Then, it was back to work around four in the afternoon for the evening meal which began around when the evening bell usually rang, which was at approximately six in the evening. The evening meal, like the morning one, only lasted a duration of approximately a couple of hours, as most people needed to get to bed early. There was one more service – the midnight one – where some people were arranged to stay in the kitchen from approximately ten at night until midnight to cook for the soldiers who worked the night shift, but that was actually voluntary. Those who signed up received special benefits, but because that would leave them without much rest over the day, not many actually wanted to participate in that shift.

Zago wasn't sure what kind of perks came out of doing the night shift, as they were different for each person. Sometimes they received extra breaks, or chances to eat in the Great Hall during the main meal times, or even permission to skip out on shifts entirely and sleep in for longer. The frequency of receiving more breaks as opposed to other perks was a bit greater, as one was free to do as they wished during the breaks. If they wanted to sleep for a bit, or if they wanted to head out into the city, or whatever the case might be, that was something the receiver could decide at their own discretion.

However, the problem with the breaks was the people who would award the special advantages. Those in the upper echelons, not Baeddan, were the ones to divvy out such rewards, and therein lied the main issue. There were exactly twelve people who made up the higher-classed staff, and for the most part, they were all quite kind. Two of the people, however, warned Zago, were not to be trusted, under any circumstances. Firstly, there was Dai, a man who hailed from a town to the far west, along the coast. He originally grew up as the son of a fisher, but ran away from home at the age of seventeen, having been too buried under responsibility and wanting a new life. After four years of wandering around, he eventually came to Camelot a few months after King Arthur was officially crowned. The castle required people familiar with cooking and he was then recruited after directly appealing to there.

Dai's personality was that of a miserly man who cared for nothing but himself, for the most part. More than likely, he was only a part of the higher staff because he had arrived at Camelot so early when the kitchen was nothing much to see. He and Baeddan got along rather well as each one aspired to make meals that were not only well-tasting, but looked to be of high-class material. The reality was a bit different from their ideology, but regardless, whenever Baeddan required assistance, it was Dai he would always quickly go to. However, Dai was not only content with his position in the upper echelons, but flaunted the status around, practically boasting to any person who was unfortunate to be close enough to him. More often than not, Dai took to making incomprehensible commands, and then getting angry whenever the person with whom he was speaking wouldn't understand. For example, he would ask someone in charge of handling meat to go empty the chamber pot the majority of the kitchen staff used. Not only did it not make sense, but if the person refused, Dai was known to resort to violence. Zago was quick to point at his shin where he apparently sported a large bruise.

The next person that Zago was certain to warn Shirou about was Telyn, from the kingdom of Lyonesse. Telyn, too, was a runaway, though for a completely different reason. Her father had been an upstanding citizen within the city and had wanted to have her married off to a soldier with a very well-off family. When she had thoroughly, and quickly, refused the demand, the soldier decided to take things into his own hands. One evening, when Telyn was out buying ingredients, the soldier captured her and forced her into a shack that wasn't often used. After binding her down and stuffing her mouth, he then took her that night without a single word. In the soldier's eyes, if she was deflowered, then she would not be able to wed any other man but him, for she would be considered as too sullied to touch. In addition, in the case that she became pregnant, he would be able to swoop in and declare he was marrying her for a better future, for the both of them. When the soldier had released her, Telyn, instead of running home and informing her father, wept and asked for her rapist to turn around while she cleaned herself up. The soldier, not thinking anything of it and already believing himself to be in the best situation possible, was quite taken aback when Telyn jumped on his back and slammed a sharpened piece of scrap metal into his back.

The soldier didn't even have a chance to breathe in to scream or push her away when Telyn pulled the metal out and slammed it in again repeatedly. She had apparently sat there for a long while, her face and dress splattered with the blood of the man who had taken her virginity. She had calmly stood up, walked home and snuck into her room, changed clothes, and vanished that same night. Whatever she might have been before that night no longer existed in the present Telyn. She had changed forever. In running away, she found Camelot kilometers away after months of traveling and turned to it with the hope of escaping her past and building something new. King Arthur was the sign of a new age, and where better to turn than the kingdom he ruled over directly? She was scouted by Baeddan personally when he saw her looking at ingredients somewhere in the city.

Overall, Telyn was not a horrible woman. She could actually be quite gentle – she did not hate anyone as she considered it a terrible emotion, but was unable to bring herself to actually trust anyone in particular.

"Then what's so bad about her?" asked Shirou as the two approached the room they would share starting that day.

Zago snorted and opened one of the many doors in the corridor. "The lady knows how to hold a grudge. She doesn't forget even the smallest slight against her. So, as long as you don't tick her off somehow, she's fine with you. Ah, but let's not forget that the smallest crap sets her off. She's even worse when she's together with Dai."

When Dai and Telyn first met one another, it was more or less a never-ending friendship from the very start. Dai was willing to take action and punish those who might begrudge either him or her, and Telyn was willing to display a kindness Dai would never have been able to demonstrate. They were like two pieces of a puzzle that fit together admirably and neither one separated from the other if they could help it. Dai, for his part, carried no grudges or ill will against anyone – he just liked to show his superiority. Telyn didn't particularly care to boast, but was very quick to remember any wrongdoings.

As for why it was terrible to receive any kind of award from either of them? Telyn was quick to recall the bad things the person being rewarded had done, and Dai would deliver a punishment that would basically nullify whatever award the person might have received otherwise. If someone were to have received extra time to sleep, but had once arrived to their shift late due to oversleeping, they would instead need to work the shift they would've gotten time off for instead, despite doing the night shift. This meant that the person would have had little to no sleep, but wouldn't be able to go to bed again for hours on end.

"That...actually seems kind of fair."

"Yeah, when you aren't the one who has to deal with it yourself."

That was true.

Shirou looked down at the cot Zago had led him to, sighing as he finally took off his backpack. It had been a long day, but he was really exhausted. Looking back at where his new roomie was, he found Zago lying on his own cot, already snoring. Smiling slightly, Shirou plopped down on the cot and sighed.

It was kind of hard to believe that he was actually in Camelot, sleeping more or less under the same roof as King Arthur. Turning around on his cot and lying down fully, his arms folded under his head, he suddenly thought about the life that he had left behind. What would Rin do when she found out he was gone? Would he be stuck in this time period forever? What exactly was he supposed to accomplish in this time period?

All right, so Myrus had said that King Arthur was suffering due in part to him, and that she had never died after that battle. So, how long afterwards had she lived, then? Had Shirou forced her into a situation where she had to reflect over every single mistake she had made in her life, without the solace of knowing death was close by? So, how was he supposed to do anything about that? Was he supposed to wait until the moment that the Battle of Camlann took place to say his apologies? What good would an apology do in that instance, anyway?

"Oh hey, Saber. I'm sorry you had to suffer for all this time, but, uh, there's got to be a plus to this, right?"

Yeah right. He would basically be shitting on her with that comment.

Shirou sighed again, his eyes starting to droop somewhat. He had to come up with a plan... Maybe if he could somehow change her outlook on life now, then maybe she wouldn't have to suffer a fate like that. Then again, if he did somehow manage to change her outlook, wouldn't that mean that the two of them would never meet in the far future? That filled his heart with sadness, but if he could make up for causing her such pain by making her see the error of her ways earlier, and not have her deal with becoming a Servant at all, wouldn't that be the best thing he could possibly do for her otherwise?

"It's my turn to try protecting you, Saber," he murmured, eyes finally closing as he fell into a deep sleep.

He just needed to get stronger first.

---

The next day brought with it a flurry of craziness for Shirou. Zago had woken him up sometime around four in the morning – he still couldn't get a handle of telling time by the stars yet, plus it had been cloudy that morning for once – so they could eat an early breakfast together. After eating quickly, they had ran to the kitchen to prepare for the morning service, and since Shirou was new, he had to be there earlier than most others so he could receive training of sorts.

Zago had merely patted him on the back, told him "good luck", and ran off to start sweeping the area. Baeddan had immediately put Shirou to work on cutting vegetables as promised. The knife he had given Shirou was rather crude, but sharp. Baeddan had stood next to him the entire time, arms crossed over his chest, as Shirou skillfully peeled and sliced every carrot set in front of him. While Shirou couldn't read Baeddan's facial expressions very well, he figured he must have done something marginally acceptable as far Baeddan was concerned, because the Head Cook was quick to head down the inner passageway and come back with two baskets full of carrots.

"Cut every single one of these into wedges the width of your pointing finger. Then wash them, and have them given to those in charge of making soup."

When Shirou had looked down at baskets, he had realized there had to have been at least a hundred carrots in each basket alone. That wouldn't have been a problem for him, but by the time Baeddan had finished instructing him on his duties – why did talking about cutting vegetables have to take nearly half an hour? – it was nearly five in the morning, and he had approximately half an hour to get every single cut carrot to the soup makers. He was good, but he wasn't that good.

He had made it through about three-fourths of one basket when Baeddan had come back demanding that he hand over his work. When the latter had realized that Shirou hadn't even finished one basket, he had merely frowned.

"I suppose I shouldn't have expected that much from you."

If Baeddan hadn't taken so long to talk to him about how to slice a damn carrot, he might've been able to actually finish. What had the man expected him to do in just a half hour? What was he supposed to be, Superman?

"Morning service is two hours right? If you just give me another hour, no, even maybe forty more minutes or so, I think I can –"

"You had your chance, knave," Baeddan had said coldly.

The Head Cook had turned to the table where Shirou and a few other people were preparing the vegetables and told everyone to step aside. Then, with strength that Shirou would have thought impossible for the man, Baeddan had flipped the table over onto its side, sending everything that had been atop of it scattering and flying across the sooty stone floor. Shirou had stared at the mess with a horrified expression before sending a glare over at Baeddan. The latter had simply ignored him and gestured at the mess as he had stomped on a few carrots and leaves of cabbage here and there, making sure to smash them into the soot and dirt even further, utterly destroying them.

"Thanks to the new boy, Ro, here, I will now be forced to inform His Majesty and all those who come to eat breakfast that there will not be any soup available for consumption and that they will simply be forced to wait until the lunch session for that. How incensed they will be to find they have little to partake upon but bread and ale for breakfast."

"Are you freaking insane?" Shirou had shouted. "You're going to waste all of this food because I couldn't cut two hundred carrots in half an hour?"

"I assigned you that task, and expected you to fulfill your duty."

"How about not assigning something so impossible next time? All of this food is going to go to waste now!"

"I assigned it because I assumed you could do it," Baeddan had responded matter-of-factly, as if never having considered once that no human was capable of doing something like that. Even seventy-five carrots had been impressive. "And this food won't be going to waste. Obviously, it cannot be served to the soldiers and royal members, but it will not be wasted, nonetheless. This will the mid-morning meal of you four in particular, if you desire to eat anything at all, so might I suggest you all start cleaning up? Unless you're not interested in eating for another six hours or so."

This was supposed to become their meal? There was soot everywhere!

Shirou had been so angry at what Baeddan had done that he had rushed the man, not thinking clearly of the consequences that might come of doing so. For all of his whining and complaining, the man was built as solid as a tank – there was not any wasted energy in any of his movements and he was as physically fit as possible. He could have been a soldier himself with how healthy he seemed to be.

When Shirou had charged him, Baeddan had, like a judo martial artist in the future, grabbed him by his sash and collar and completely flipped Shirou forward and slammed him flat on his back. Baeddan had then slapped him across the face once and then hefted him back up to his feet. Gripping Shirou's dirtied tunic collar as if with a vice, Baeddan drew the redheaded man closer and asked,

"At any point, did you ever once feel that you could actually cut that many in that much time?"

"Of course not! What normal person could?"

Baeddan had closed his eyes for a short moment before opening them again, rearing back his fist and smashing it straight into Shirou's face. Shirou had flown back and hit the ground hard, immediately bringing a hand up to touch the place where he'd been hit. Wincing slightly, he pushed himself up off the ground to a sitting position to glare back at the other cook.

"And that's where you went wrong, boy. The second you thought you couldn't do it was the second you failed. Now, clean up this mess and think over the mistake you've made and the damage you've caused."

Shirou had gritted his teeth as he'd looked at the mess on the ground. The three people who had been in charge of cutting various vegetables alongside him had stared down at the mess as well, looking slightly depressed. Unlike him, they had been working for at least an hour on all of their cutting and washing, and all that had turned to nothing in the blink of an eye thanks to him. He had reached forward and picked up one cut piece of carrot colored black by the soot and clenched it tightly in his fist. He had made a real mess of things, though it hadn't entirely been his fault this time around.

"Do not worry so much, Ro," one woman was quick to say, her eyes kind. "This is not the first time something like this has taken place, and I can nearly guarantee that it will not be the last."

He later learned that this woman was Eos, one of the few close friends Zago had managed to make within the kitchen. She was a secretive one, and Zago had never seen her with anything but a smile upon her face. She was also, apparently, ridiculously kind and always ready to give a helping hand. Eos, too, was a member of the upper echelon, but took greater pleasure in being around other "normal" servants as opposed to flaunting around her power as most of the others tended to do.

"Don't spoil the lad, Eos!" growled one man who scowled down at the disaster. "Damn that Baeddan. Does he think for one second that I'm really going to get down on my knees and clean up the chaos he created? Damnation!"

The man who had said all of that turned his back on Shirou and walked away with the fourth person who had been at the table.

"You won't see me cleaning up that craziness. That boy was the one who caused this mayhem, so he can be the one who cleans all of the crap up! Damn it, I'll just go hungry then. The things I have to put up with..."

Shirou had gritted his teeth as he scooped some soot into his hands. The rest of the people in the kitchen had made sure to ignore what had gone on and Shirou wasn't able to blame them in the least. Eos had bent down next to him and started picking up pieces of vegetables here and there, her saddened smile never disappearing.

"Nothing's going right lately," he had muttered to himself.

"These things take time. Do not worry – Baeddan will get used to you soon enough. Not everyone can go at the same pace as he can."

That had annoyed Shirou more than anything else. Maybe it was his competitive nature, or maybe he just didn't want to be told he was incapable of doing something at the same rate someone else could, even though he excelled at it. Either way, Eos's kindness had only put him into a worse mood.

With only the two of them working together, cleaning up everything had taken the better part of a couple of hours, and considering how covered with soot they were, Baeddan wouldn't let them go near any other food. On top of that, the Head Cook had still been irritated by Shirou's folly and chose not to acknowledge him due to the incident. Eos and Shirou had been unable to fully clean off every single vegetable, and so every single bit of it had been disposed of. Eos had been considerate enough to get Baeddan off of his back, but Shirou was still incredibly irritated. Baeddan had acted as if cutting up two hundred carrots was a simple task in a mere half an hour, but Shirou couldn't figure out any way to actually go about it. It was really getting to him. He wasn't exactly a master chef, but he'd still had faith in his abilities, regardless.

Shirou sighed as he and Eos walked down the corridor on the second floor of the east wing. She was making sure he could find his way before she went off to brush all of the soot off of her own clothes. As soon as they both reached his and Zago's room, Shirou turned to her with a slight bow.

"I'm sorry about everything. It took a long time to get everything taken care of, too."

"Fret not, Ro. Ah, no, sorry, Shirou, wasn't it?" she amended, smiling softly. "As I stated before, you need not concern yourself. These things do tend to happen, and there is nothing to do about it but allow time to bide as it will. If you try rushing things, nothing good will ever come of that."

"I guess," he said grudgingly. "I promised the king I wouldn't cause any trouble, but it seems like Baeddan is already ready to toss me out."

"Nonsense," she disagreed. "The king wouldn't pay any attention to a single word Baeddan said at such an early stage anyway, and believe you me, he has most certainly tried in the past."

"Thanks, Eos. You're a really sweet woman."

Eos seemed to freeze as a bit of redness spread across her cheeks. It was the first time he had seen her without a smile on her face, though he wasn't quite sure what could be wrong with her at the moment though. Eos cleared her throat, her midnight-blue eyes turning away from Shirou.

"Thank you kindly, Shirou. I am simply here to help."

"Yeah, and you've done a lot of that. I'll try harder not to be so annoying in the future."

"No, no, you're just fine," she countered as he opened the door to his room.

Shirou looked inside and was surprised to find Zago laying back on his cot and just staring at the ceiling.

"Whoa, Zago? Are you on break already?"

Zago waved at Shirou. "Hey mate. Nah, I made a run for it. Working is overrated, anyway."

Eos's eyes widened slightly before she frowned and politely slid in through the opening between Shirou and the doorjamb. The second Zago saw her, he flipped back off the cot and pushed himself up against the far wall. Holding his hands up in surrender, he chuckled hesitantly, saying,

"Oh, hey there, Eos. Long time, no see?"

Eos narrowed her eyes slightly. "Yes, although that may be due to a certain someone always skipping out on work when it's his turn. It's no wonder the kitchen never gets cleaned."

"Hey, hey, don't blame that all on me. I'm just one man. Besides, sleep beckons me."

"I have long since grown tired of covering for you, Dagobert," she pointed out softly. "If you do not intend to fulfill your duties, I may be forced to exert the power I hold over you. I trust that you will not like my doing so in the least."

"I'm innocent! Sleep! Blame the sleep! It called to me, wrapped around me, and made me wanting for more," Zago said, holding his hands to his chest. "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. It's like the loving embrace you would have from that one, lovely woman. Ah, 'tis agony to leave her be. Sweet, sweet sleep."

She scowled slightly. "I most assuredly would not, I will have you know! And you will never get this woman you speak of with such a lackadaisical attitude. Simply dreadful."

Zago cowered slightly as Eos walked closer to him before eventually reaching out and grabbing a hold of his ear. Shirou couldn't hide a grin as Zago squeaked before begging and pleading with Eos as she dragged him along and out of the room. Initially ready for some relaxation after the mess earlier that day, Shirou thought it might be a little better for his mentality if he wasn't left alone to muse and contemplate over various things. He followed them out into the hallway, making sure to close the door after him as they walked ahead of him.

Eos finally let go of Zago's ear when he started whining nonstop, her expression filled with annoyance.

"God damn, woman, you're like the older sister I never wanted!"

"How dare you use the Lord's name in vain?" she retorted. "Such a child you are, constantly complaining and yet never lifting a hand for yourself!"

"How the hell does that guy deal with you?"

"Don't you dare try to shift the blame to others for where you lack. Unbelievable."

"Bitch! I don't lack shit!"

Eos turned to look at Zago with a soft and gentle smile. Zago frowned at her with narrowed eyes, and seemed to be about to ask what her deal was when her hand whipped out and grabbed his ear again. With a silent yell, Zago clasped his hands over her right one, trying to find a way to get her to release him.

"My, my, perhaps my hearing is becoming faulty. Could you say that again, more clearly this time?"

"You are a beautiful, all-knowing woman who is incredible beyond her twenty-three years! Ah, even as the seasons change, you never will! How I have always desired an older sister such as yourself! Now, could you please, possibly, perchance let me go...?"

She smiled genuinely this time, readily releasing her deadly grip on his ear. Zago rubbed his ear over and over and drifted back to walk next to Shirou.

"Holy mother of Jesus! Why does she do that?"

Shirou chuckled. "I think you were asking for it, honestly. What'd you think was going to happen if you said all of that?"

"Uh, I don't know. Not that, at least."

"Then you deserved it."

"You both suck."

As they walked past one of the windows, Zago noticed that the shutters were open and that a cold draft was flying in. He motioned for Eos and Shirou to wait as he went to close them before they heard him groan slightly. Both of them walked up to his side and looked out of the window alongside of him. Eos frowned as well, sighing deeply.

"What?" Shirou said, confused.

He didn't see what the issue was. The window overlooked the patch of dead grass in between the castle and the outer wall. He looked up and saw a bunch of grey clouds in the distance, but not much more than that.

"See those clouds up there?" Zago said, pointing up at the sky. "The big grey ones? We're going to be dumped on really hard."

"It's just like last year," murmured Eos, looking slightly concerned. "I had hoped that with us so far into December that maybe it wouldn't happen at all, or at least, not to such a degree..."

"What? Rain? Snow?"

"Snow," confirmed Zago. "And a whole lot of it. Damn it, the supplies come in at the end of the week, but we're going to be buried. Ugh, I don't want to go outside now."

Eos nodded, feeling much of the same. "It was difficult enough last year, but I'm not sure anyone is prepared for that to happen again this year."

"Is it really that bad?" Shirou asked, looking out of the window again.

"I guarantee we'll only be seeing white by the end of the week. Who knows," Zago said, shrugging his shoulders as he started walking away after closing the shutters. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

"Aw, it can't be that bad," said Shirou with a small smile.

Eos and Zago looked at him pitifully, but said nothing as they walked away.

True to Zago's words, the snow began falling that very night.

---

And...that's that. I'll tell you right now, I love Zago. Zago will be everywhere for like the next 3-4 chapters. So...get used to him. :D
Percival will be around. You know, always ready to pass King Arthur a kiss here and there.

Also...beta pleeeeeeeeease. :D