So, here it is. In respect to those who dislike this Shirou... I don't know what to tell you. I'm sorry you don't agree with my portrayal of this Shirou, but I've begun the story like this, and intend to work with this until its eventual finish. Regardless, I appreciate your reading and while I may read your critiques in full, that does not necessarily mean that I will bow down to them. I am writing this story because I desire to - if you prefer a different Shirou, might you try reading a different story instead?
In any case, thanks for reading. :)
Both Shirou and Meilyr sat up against the bars on their respective sides, each nibbling on their breakfasts. It was fairly early in the morning, and neither of the two were particularly interested in carrying on a conversation. Meilyr nibbled on bread while Shirou bit into a chicken wing – where'd Meilyr manage to get his hands on actual meat, and how? As he chewed, he thought again of his seemingly hopeless situation.
He was going to die in this cell. He just knew it.
Three weeks. Three solid weeks Shirou had been stuck in his newfound home under lock and key. Once he'd grown to know Meilyr better, he'd attempted asking the jailor to look up some people for him, to see if someone could bail him out. If he were somehow able to get in contact with Percival, or even Eos or Zago, he'd be that much closer to getting out. Percival definitely had the clout to plead to the king for his release, Eos could possibly ask her husband, and Zago was loud and annoying enough to put up such a stink that everyone present would be forced to pay some attention.
However, Meilyr's actions were considerably limited, despite the fact that he was a soldier. Even for a rank-and-file soldier, he should've been able to get someone to listen to him, but he, too, was under constant watch wherever he went, apparently. Shirou wasn't sure what was going on the man, but he was almost as much of a target as the redhead.
Meilyr had zero backing behind him, and wasn't actually assigned by chain-of-command to be in the dungeons. By Shirou's guesstimate, he bet that no one actually knew he was down there guarding Shirou's cell either, which meant that he wasn't a very important person after all. If he was so forgettable, then something incredibly terrible must've taken place for Meilyr, or some other unfortunate circumstance. Meilyr didn't have control of the keys, which was part of the main reason Shirou wasn't allowed to leave. That, and whatever was forcing Meilyr to guard him scared the man into inaction. So, Shirou was stuck.
His jailor did guarantee him two meals each day though, sans the poison. Shirou still wasn't quite sure where the man procured the food, but it was always there and starting a few days ago, Meilyr had started eating together with him. At first, neither had said much, but soon enough, Shirou began taking part in small, short conversations about life in general: how did he like Camelot, what did he dislike – he'd had a whole list lined up for that particular question – what was his favorite food, and things along that line of thinking. Shirou wasn't particularly interested in trying to make any friends, but it was far more interesting to make small talk than it was to count all of the 50,236 tiny holes within the stone ceiling. That was just for his particular cell. Not that he'd been bored or anything.
Physical activity, or rather, varied physical activity also ran a bit on the mundane side at times. There were only so many pushups, sit-ups, and wall flips he could do before running out of things to do, again. He had taken to trying to dig a tunnel with the rocks he had on hand so he had someplace to bury his fecal matter, but it just sat there in the corner, mounting up like an anthill. It was disgusting. He was disgusted. He would have given anything for a bidet, but he'd just have to wait for the French to think up that invention in a few hundred or so years, or wait until he got out to trace his own.
Shirou rolled his eyes. He'd never expected to play the damsel in distress again, but this time there wouldn't be a dashing Saber running to his rescue.
No Rin either, he mused. Hell, I'd even take Zago at this point.
He glanced back at the other man. Meilyr was incredibly silent for once, to the point where it seemed out of character. That was slightly worrying. The man may not have been Shirou's friend, but it was slightly disconcerting for the other to be so...quiet. Rather, Shirou couldn't recall a time where the man had been quiet for more than ten minutes straight, and here they were going on over half an hour. He shrugged his shoulders and attempted to start a conversation for once.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Meilyr seemed loathe to explain his train of thought, instead appearing to let it run through his mind for a few minutes before even attempting to speak. Shirou waited patiently – after all, there wasn't much else he really could do. Being in a jail cell had a tendency to limit one's options.
Meilyr turned around, his armor scraping across the stone a bit. His expression was rather contemplative, and Shirou wasn't sure he'd ever witnessed this particular side of the jailor.
"How old are you, if I may ask, Shirou?"
What?
Shirou frowned somewhat. That was an odd question to run into.
"Uh," he stumbled. "I'm...twenty-four? No, wait..."
He had been born sometime in September or so, and it was still only late March... Yeah, he was still twenty-four. That was heartening to know – nothing could contradict that information otherwise. Or could it? How did the time travel thing work anyway? Did he still age like normal, just in the past? But, if he was in the past, didn't that more or less mean his existence hadn't yet come to be, and so he couldn't age because he hadn't been born yet? If he hadn't been born yet, though, he couldn't be in his current situation though, so it made little sense to...
No, Shirou wasn't a scientist. He was not going to try to figure out the point of his existence within the time stream. He was a living paradox.
He turned to Meilyr and shrugged his shoulders, his answer more or less given. The latter looked back at him, still frowning.
"You're still quite young, though older than myself by some years. And, you said you were a cook, yes? You work in the kitchens."
"Yeah...?" Shirou replied hesitantly, not sure where this line of questioning was going.
Meilyr looked at Shirou determinedly. "Then, I suppose that is the part where I fail to understand. You are young, fairly kind, hardly judgemental, lacking ill will," – Shirou scoffed at this point – "and a generally good fellow. How did you earn someone's ire? Why are you here?"
Shirou shrugged again. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Understatement of the year.
"Your luck must be poor, indeed."
Try Rank E.
"Story of my life," Shirou muttered, settling back against the bars.
"Is there nothing more to your story?" Meilyr pressed, sounding concerned. "One does not simply get put into jail."
The redhead scratched the back of his head, sighing. What was the harm in telling anyone? It wasn't as if it would land him in deeper shit... Probably. "I pissed off the wrong people."
"Pissed off?"
"I made them mad – in particular, some guy named Dai. Not sure what his deal is, but he had me ambushed, captured, sent into a fight that practically guaranteed my death, and then stuck me in this jail cell to keep me out of the way while he does...whatever. The crappy thing about it all is that it's totally working. I can't do anything in here. I have no resources, no one to fall back on. No one knows I'm here."
"I beg your pardon, Shirou," Meilyr began, looking confused, "but perhaps my ears have deceived me. Do you mean to tell me the king did not sanction for your imprisonment?"
Shirou yawned slightly. "That's right."
"You are an innocent party?"
"Those aren't the words I'd use," Shirou answered carefully, tilting his head, "but that's the gist of it."
Meilyr suddenly fell silent, his armor clinking as he stood up to his full height, eyes darkened. Shirou didn't pay him much attention until several minutes passed by with only the sound of scuffling as Meilyr paced back and forth in front of his cell. Meilyr would pause every so often before quickening his pace and then coming to complete stops. It happened so many times that Shirou had begun to lose count. He simply yawned again, bemoaning the fact that he was already ready for his mid-morning nap. At the very least, he'd gotten a good deal of sleep over the past few weeks.
He flinched slightly when Meilyr slammed his gauntleted hand against the far wall. Shirou swiveled around to stare at his companion, who looked nothing short of furious.
"That despicable monster," Meilyr bit out, teeth grit together. "Has he no shame? I've half a mind to approach the king myself and have him officially executed for such audacious crimes..."
"I'm not about to disagree since I think the prick deserves it," Shirou conceded, "but what's stopping you?"
"I am not without a spoiled record myself, Shirou," Meilyr responded, his eyes glaring at the ground. "Just as he's using your anonymity, or lack of power, against you, he is using something I value more than life itself against me. I am, to my complete humiliation, entirely powerless against the man. I can no more fight against him than can you – not without serious repercussions."
Shirou narrowed his eyes slightly. "What, is he holding your family for ransom or something?"
Meilyr paused for half a second before turning back around slowly. His brown eyes gleamed with something Shirou couldn't really place.
"That, Shirou," he said haltingly, "is actually closer to the truth than you might think."
"He has your family?" Shirou exclaimed, wondering how the hell the cook had managed that.
"Not precisely," Meilyr said deliberately, eyes not leaving Shirou's. "He, fortunately, does not have that much influence. However, allow me to tell you that he and I are not strangers. Rather, we are from the very same hometown."
Whoa. "Was he a little shit back then, too?"
Shirou was rewarded with a wry smile.
"One of the worst."
The blunt answer made Shirou chuckle somewhat, and the sound felt foreign to him. He hadn't had reason to laugh for quite some time. It was pretty sad, actually. He was starting to forget how to enjoy life, something Rin had drilled into him for so long. What would she say if she were here with him now? He could almost hear her now:
So, you went back in time – without telling me, for that matter – to save someone who used to be your Servant for a reason entirely unknown to you, and proceeded to become a complete weakling and a liability to everyone you are near? Wow, Shirou. You. Are. An. Idiot.
He grunted, sitting up straighter. That had sounded entirely too much like her and it kind of scared him a bit that he would know exactly what she would say. He couldn't fault Thought Rin's views, but they made him feel like crap, which was probably the point.
Meilyr cleared his throat, regaining Shirou's attention.
"Before, I believe I once told you that I was here through extenuating circumstances. I was being truthful back then. Dai has threatened to ensure I am relieved of my position should I make any...unfavorable movements."
"What are you talking about?" asked Shirou, feeling slightly confused. "Does he have people back in your hometown that are holding them prisoner or something?"
His jailor shifted nervously, rolling his shoulders back with agitation. "Shirou, you are of course aware that it is an honor to be a part of the king's army and guard?"
Shirou shrugged. "I don't doubt that it is."
"It is, very much so. When a part of the guard, each soldier receives compensation in the form of food or other necessities that are sent to the families of each soldier. My family earns its way by fishing, but that kind of job will not pay for the levies exacted, nor will it put clothes on my siblings' backs. For my payment, my family is given raw materials once a month, such as wool and other hard goods."
Shirou felt the information slowly start to click together, and he narrowed his eyes a bit.
"I think I get it. Dai must have a way of getting you off the payroll, and in exchange for you keeping your job, you have to guard me down here and essentially do whatever the asshole says. That's why you don't have any clearance or access to the guard keys like normal jailors would. I'll even bet the king has no idea you're down here, or your superiors for that matter."
Meilyr's eyes widened comically. "You're unusually perceptive, sir."
The redhead scowled slightly. "It's not hard to add two and two together. If you lose your job, you lose your monthly stipend, which means your family will suffer. Dai would definitely get a kick out of that."
"Were I a normal soldier, I wouldn't be as concerned," confessed Meilyr, "but I don't rank high in quality as a soldier, to be entirely honest. I've always been known as the sickly sort, so I have only ever been assigned the lesser known jobs, or should I say, the duties no one would ever particularly want."
"Like cleaning the bathroom?"
"Bathroom?" Meilyr asked, looking confused.
Shirou frowned somewhat. "Uh, the latrine? The water closet? The toilet?"
When he was met with a quizzical expression, he sighed. "The place you where you urinate and-or defecate?"
"Ah." Meilyr looked happy to finally reach the same page as Shirou. "No, I don't clean the chambers, thank the Lord. More along the lines of cleaning the weapons used for training, or evening the training field, or cleaning horse excrement... Practically anything that can technically be done by one of the lesser guard. In a manner of speaking, guarding you is something of a promotion, though it is not without its bad points."
"Well, excuse me," Shirou countered with a grin. "I don't want to be stuck down here, either."
Meilyr's eyes fell to the floor. "I do not mind guarding you, so to speak. I gave up a life with my family to work for the king, and I have no regrets whatsoever about that decision. I do not regret that my constitution is so lacking that I am unable to assist in any other ways but to clean up after my fellow guardsmen. Nor do I regret that I cannot march on the different campaigns His Majesty undertakes."
The jailor paused slightly, seeming to have difficulty in uttering his next words:
"Were I to regret anything, it would be that I have become a liability to my family, instead of an additional foundation. Were I to regret, I would feel remorse over being foolish enough to be caught in a plan that, in the end, has little to nothing to do with me. Were I to regret, I would be angry that I have allowed myself to become less than that of a man. And, had I not been stuck down here with you, those regrets might have once upon a time come to fruition."
Shirou stayed silent throughout the entire monologue, feeling a bit wary of interrupting and causing the man to lose his nerve. When Meilyr raised his eyes up to meet Shirou's though, the former couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in surprise.
Meilyr smiled softly, an action that completely contradicted his spoken words.
"True, you are not the ideal that I sought towards," Meilyr conceded with a small grin – the first Shirou had ever witnessed, "but you have given me worth. I cannot stand Dai, and I believe the cur should pay for his crimes. However, I will always feel grateful to him for pushing me into this situation, for without it, we two would have never acquainted. That is worthy of any regret I may have once harbored."
Shirou felt his face pale when he heard those words. "I'm just a prisoner. I haven't done anything for you. I spent all the energy trying to ignore the fact that you even existed. I never acknowledged you for any of the food you brought me. Quite frankly, I've been a pain in the ass for you."
"I will never deny that," Shirou's guard quipped without hesitation. "You were a right headache much of the time, but, I would not have it any other way. I will always value and cherish the chance His Majesty has blessed upon me, but..."
Meilyr rubbed a hand over his breastplate with a grimace. "Despite that, though, there are times when I felt like less than a person, and more like a part of the background with little worth. It is...difficult to remind yourself that you have meaning when you are cleaning the feces from a horse's rear end."
"...I can imagine," Shirou agreed wryly.
"So, thank you," Meilyr continued, as if fearing he would lose his nerve. "I also appreciate your understanding of the current situation."
Shirou snorted. "You're just lucky I didn't find a way to bail on you."
"Dear me," the other man remarked with a smirk, "and here I was almost certain that you well on your way to digging a tunnel with that hay of yours."
"Shut up."
So he'd gone a little crazy and attempted to attack the stone floor with some hay. What the hell else was he supposed to do?
Meilyr shook his head out of amusement. "Forgive me, but I must take my leave for now."
"Oh, don't worry about me," Shirou muttered, waving his hand loftily. "I'll just be here, glaring my stone prison to death."
The jailor tapped the prison bars a couple of times as a greeting before turning and walking down the corridor towards the exit. He paused and looked back at the redhead leaning back on the bar, a frown on his face as he saw how increasingly despondent Shirou was becoming. He was a victim to his situation, as was Meilyr, but unlike the jailor, had lost nearly everything and looked as if there was no hope for him. Meilyr turned and faced forward, his jaw tightening as he considered how unfair it was that a wicked person like Dai could control the lives of others for his other glee.
A couple of steps forward and Meilyr paused again. He shook his head back and forth. There was little he could do – if he even dared step out of line, Dai would see that he was incapacitated and his family starved in a heartbeat. He couldn't risk that – not for Shirou, even if the Scot was one of the first friends he had ever made... No. He couldn't. His family was far too important. His family meant the world to him.
Meilyr made it down the corridor, around a corner, down past yet even more prison cells before finding the steps to the first underground level. It was on this level that he finally ran into other prison guards, although they hadn't a clue of who he was. Many of them guarded criminals who had turned on their family, or had been caught with vital information, or had simply spoken ill of the king. There were also common thieves and fools who had been reported to the city guard, and were just waiting for their eventual execution days, weeks, or maybe months in the future. Then, there was the other one...
He gripped his helmet tightly in his hand as he peered into the cell of the newest inhabitant. Rumor said that this man had been foolish enough to attempt to pull wool over the king's eyes. Sir Percival had brought him in personally, and his crimes against the kingdom were both exceedingly high and treasonous. The fact that he was still in a cell and not dead yet was simply due to the king wanting to imbue within the prisoner a sense of worthlessness, as if the king couldn't even be bothered with such a nuisance. The prisoner would simply watch as other prisoners were taken away to be sentenced or freed without nary a glance his way. It was a means to humiliate him and cause despair.
Meilyr narrowed his eyes sharply.
This man, unlike Shirou, deserved every feeling of pain inflicted upon him. He deserved to suffer. Unlike Shirou, he had caused a wealth of troubles, enough to possibly hurt the kingdom as a whole. Unlike Shirou, this prisoner truly was an eyesore. Yes, unlike Shirou...
His brown eyes fell to the ground as he slowly walked past the cell's inhabitant and jailor. Shirou may have made Meilyr feel better and may have heightened his self-worth, but the truth of the matter was, Shirou didn't belong in that cell. He didn't at all, and Meilyr knew it. He knew it, and yet he did nothing.
"Nothing's changed," Meilyr muttered as he walked the long flight of steps leading from the dungeons to the main castle. "I am as cowardly as I always have been. What am I, a guard, doing hiding within the shadow of an innocent?"
The need to do what was right and just weighed down heavily on his shoulders, but he hadn't the courage to correct the obvious mistake.
"Will I forever be haunted by that poor excuse for a human being?"
His last step out of the dungeon proved the heaviest and most burdening of them all.
Papers straightened into place as she aligned them on the tabletop, her shoulders seeming to slump slightly before straightening as she took a moment to look at every single attendant of the meeting. King Arthur glanced from one man to another: Bedivere, Gawain, Percival, Kay, Gareth, Tristan, and Lancelot. She found herself pausing to look at the last night for a bit longer than the others before gradually finishing her sweep of the room. It was unfortunate that her other knights could not be present, but they'd not returned from their various duties just yet.
To be truthful, however, she really had little desire to still be conducting this meeting. As for the why, well, she and the men had already been sitting down talking about important business matters for the past few hours, and every single one of them was starting to become a bit antsy. Luckily, there was only one more thing to discuss before she could call the meeting to a close.
The king breathed out a soft sigh through her nose before erecting herself in a more regal manner.
"I believe that brings us to our final matter of topic: the traitor involved with the Puria incident."
Arturia's eyes focused on Kay as he snorted without mirth.
"Ah, yes," her foster brother started, his forest-green eyes looking down at his own collection of papers, "the fool who attempted to cause complete and utter madness, and nearly succeeded, if I may be so bold to add. Whatever shall we do with him? Would it not be a simple matter to, say, simply kill him?"
Bedivere frowned deeply. "After we spent so many resources to catch him? Are you daft, sir?"
"Kill him with fire and be done with it!" argued Kay, a frown now on his face as well. "I grow weary of this game to try to gain information from pawns who obviously have none to give."
Arturia merely continued to watch Kay carefully. "That is always an option, Kay. Are you certain it is so simple?"
To her right, Tristan slammed a fist down on the table, eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "Enough of this tool we speak of! We should be focusing our attention on the man behind it all: Conan! He slides in and out of grasp like a slimy leech, always certain to suck out a bit of blood with every encounter. Until we contend with him, mark my words my fellow knights, this 'game' we play will be never-ending!"
"Calm down sir, before you have a heart attack," murmured Gawain. "There is little doubt of Conan being a priority, but the man simply will not be found unless he desires such. You would risk much attempting to follow him into the deep with so little information."
Gareth nodded, though no one was at all surprised to see him agree so readily with his brother. There was a slight moment of silence as each knight considered what had been said. Arturia looked from one man to another before asking,
"What of you, Lancelot, Percival? What would you propose?"
Percival, who had been less than attentive throughout the entirety of the meeting, ducked his head down as he righted his posture.
"As the one who sought him down and captured him myself, I say there is little worth in simply killing him. There must be a way to utilize him to get to the bottom of this."
He fell silent as soon as he said these words, much to Arturia's befuddlement.
Percival, while many things, was not one to fall into depression or become as listless as he currently was. Rather, the fact that he showed no signs of interest in the very prisoner he had sought to hunt down himself cause the king some concern. She peered at him closely, trying to analyze what little she could before turning her attention to the last knight, who stared across the table pensively.
Lancelot met her gaze steadily, his dark brown, near black, eyes searching her expression for possible clues of what she might desire. Arturia was quick to close off her expression even further – what she desired was meaningless, what was necessary for the kingdom was the sole purpose for why they were meeting with one another. If the man was intent on trying to supersede this specific ideal of hers, he was in for a rocky ride that would only meet with a dead end.
Lancelot apparently caught the hint, though he seemed somewhat disgruntled by her obstinance.
"I, personally," he began with a soft, gentle voice, "am of the opinion that everyone here has raised a decent point. As Tristan was quick to vocalize, Conan is the reason for our recent misfortunes. The sooner we seek him out and eliminate him, the sooner we can concentrate on solidifying the kingdom."
Tristan nodded steadfastly, his hands clasped in front of him on the tabletop. "Exactly right, my brother! Conan is simply baiting us, waiting for other chances to strike at our weak points. The longer we allow the scoundrel freedom to network further and turn even more against our cause, the more we are setting ourselves up for a quick and easy downfall. His Majesty's kingdom has not progressed this far only to fall short due to senseless actions."
"Mighty we may be," Kay interrupted as he leaned forward, "but I believe Gawain just said that we lack enough viable information to take that route. Tristan, I praise your willingness, but I do not think you are considering this in full. Perhaps you should go cool off that head of yours in a vat of ale? Perhaps that will help you think better, though it is rather a shame that a drunk would do better than that of a sober man."
"Save your jests!" Tristan argued back, his voice rising. "Have you nothing better to do than make witty comments and act holier-than-thou? If you've so much to say, then let it be said, my good man! However, I'll ask that you not waste anyone's time and patience just because that head of yours only has room for women and foolhardiness!"
"It is this wit of mine that keeps things afloat, dear Tristan."
"The ship you float upon causes me nothing but headaches, so please forgive me if I'm not ready to take a ride."
"Kay, Tristan, enough!" Arturia snapped, not wanting this to escalate into an all-out fight. She glared at the two of them until they sat back in their seats and gained better control over their emotions.
Taking a deep breath, she waved a hand airily towards Lancelot. "As you were saying?"
Lancelot nodded, swiftly continuing: "As Kay was quick to reassert, Gawain spoke of the danger we would undertake by searching for that menace without knowing what traps might lie ahead. I believe the obvious way to curtail the possible danger would be to, of course, interrogate our prisoner and extract as much information as possible. As soon as we have procured anything of value, we could then draw up a plan on tracking down our elusive foe."
Arturia voiced her agreement softly, her index finger tapping against the table intermittently.
"I will perform the interrogation myself," she announced after some deliberation. "I will admit I still have some irritation over the fact that the prisoner made bold-faced lies in my very presence."
She noticed her knights cringe slightly at her declaration. Confusion swept through her mind as she frowned.
"Is there a problem with my participation?"
Bedivere was the only one who felt bold enough to clear the air: "Not...exactly, Sire. We are simply concerned..."
"The last time, you killed the damn bloke," muttered Kay, head in his hands.
Arturia's eyes widened slightly before she glared at all of them. "My techniques are humane. I have not killed anyone."
"Yet," Kay was quick to correct, though quietly.
Gawain leaned forward slowly. "If I may, Your Highness," he began, gaining her attention, "the last man you interrogated was left so mentally scarred that he might as well have been dead. We do not mean to say that you did kill him –"
"Except he kind of did," someone who sounded suspiciously like Kay rebuked.
"– but that you are so skilled that there was nothing left to salvage once you were finished," Gawain concluded while narrowing his eyes at Kay. "If I may, I would suggest Tristan and Lancelot handle the task."
Tristan grinned evilly. "What a fine suggestion, Gawain, my good fellow. I would gladly take part in this endeavor. I will not disappoint."
Lancelot merely closed his eyes. "I will do what is necessary for His Majesty and the kingdom."
The king's eyebrows rose slightly. She had been overruled – politely and respectfully, but ultimately, overruled. She wasn't even sure what to say about it, or if there even was anything to say, so she would just not say anything at all.
"How kind of you to undertake this matter for me," she eventually answered dryly, not missing the slight grins and smiles her men made.
Arturia simply shook her head, knowing better than to push the matter when she had been so easily outvoted. Until the prisoner was thoroughly interrogated, they didn't have much choice other than to play the waiting game. Lancelot had been right, of course. Attempting to pursue an enemy that was as elusive and particularly annoying as Conan would only be wasting valuable resources, time, and energy. Better to adopt a suitable plan once helpful information was gathered than to attempt anything further. She was an aggressive leader, to be sure, but even she knew that her actions were not always necessarily infallible.
She bowed her head once in silent consent of her thoughts before turning her attention back to her men.
"Then, I take it we are in agreement of waiting until after interrogation has taken place? All those in agreement, say aye."
There were a number of replies across the table. She believed that everyone had agreed, but just to be sure:
"All those opposed...?"
When silence met her question, she stood up from her seat, head high.
"Then I hereby call this meeting to a close. We will then reconvene once the interrogation has been finished to further plan for our future operations. If there are no other questions, then I will see all of you when you hand in your individual reports for missions undertaken."
Kay rose quickly, raising his hands high over his head as he stretched. "Lord above, finally. I don't recall the manual for joining the king's special knighthood illustrating any need for such long, incredibly boring meetings."
"I don't recall there being a manual at all, Kay," Gawain said with a slight grin. "I would have thought it would have been nothing short of obvious."
The two walked towards the door, after giving a respectful nod to their king, with Gareth in tow. Kay shrugged, his face screwed up into an expression of distaste.
"Yes, of course. For such a thing to exist would make life far too easy, wouldn't it? Can't have that now, can we?"
Gareth chuckled. "What use is life if nothing proves a challenge?"
Gawain agreed readily and Kay rolled his eyes. "You two are complete eyesores, sometimes."
Arturia sighed as the three men walked out of the room, bickering on and on. Bedivere only sneered at them, but was quick to leave the room himself, after bowing slightly to Arturia. Lancelot nodded his head respectfully and Tristan pumped his fist with a characteristic grin on his face.
"Until we next meet, Your Majesty!" Tristan said energetically. "I will not fail and will glean as much information from the prisoner as possible! Your humble servant will prevail!"
Arturia chose not to say anything in return, though she wasn't quite sure Tristan knew what the word "humble" meant. She was ready to leave the room herself, but had noticed that Percival had made no indication of getting up from his own chair. His sapphire-blue eyes were dark with an emotion she couldn't depict, and it wasn't until she drifted to his side that he even showed signs of recognizing his surroundings.
Percival stood up tall almost immediately, looking somewhat ashamed as to having kept the king back for so long and for losing sight of himself.
"Your Majesty," he murmured demurely, which caused her more alarm than anything else.
"Percival," she replied, voice giving away nothing. "You were not very attentive to this meeting. Was there something else you deemed of having more importance?"
"No!" he denied vehemently, causing her to reel inwardly before looking chagrined again. "No, of course not, Your Majesty. Nothing takes more precedence than the safety and good fortune of the kingdom."
Her hand rested against her hip as she frowned slightly. "But...?"
The brunet winced. "No, there's... It's not..."
He seemed to come to a decision before righting himself proudly and turning to face her completely.
"It's about Shirou."
Now, that was a name she hadn't heard in quite a while.
"Shirou," she deadpanned, uncertain of how else to continue the conversation. "The kitchen boy, am I correct?"
"Yes, my king. The foreigner you personally brought to the kingdom to serve as a cook. I have...sufficed to say, become rather close to him."
"Close, you say?" Something about this conversation was putting her at odds.
Percival shrugged, seeming to naturally fall back on his real personality. "As close as a servant and knight can be, I suppose. We talk every now and then, when I make the time."
Arturia turned her gaze away from her knight, wondering if she should sit down for this. It seemed to be something weighing heavily on Percival's mind, though how it involved her, she hadn't the slightest. Once again, it appeared, Shirou had landed himself in some kind of bad predicament.
The boy attracts trouble like a magnet.
"What of him, Percival?" she sighed, not wanting to deal with this.
"That's just it," the knight continued, forcing Arturia to turn her sharp gaze back upon him. "He's just disappeared as if he never existed. It's unnatural."
"Perhaps he was simply let go?" Arturia argued, though she wasn't sure why. "It hardly seems unnatural that Baeddan would get rid of yet another of his servants."
Percival frowned deeply. "That is true, but my liege, you know as well as I do that Shirou is quite famous, or infamous, within the walls of this castle. If someone like him were to be kicked out, I think such information would have definitely made its way to your ears eventually."
That...was true, Arturia was slow to acknowledge. Considering that it was she who brought the man to the castle, for him to be kicked out with her none the wiser was highly improbable, likely impossible. She was certain many would cheer were the "Scot" to be thrown out on his rear end, never to return to the inside of the castle. The information would make its way around to all of the servants, then the knights, and eventually, even her.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "How long has it been since Shirou has gone missing?"
"It has been about a month, my liege."
A month. How could someone as well-rumored as Shirou go missing for nearly a month without a word otherwise? He didn't have the permissions needed to leave the castle under any circumstances, and his death would likely travel through the grapevine just as quickly. If anything out of the ordinary had happened to the man, Baeddan probably would have stormed Arturia's office almost immediately. Now, there was an additional problem. If Baeddan wasn't beating down her door about yet another issue, that meant that he might be unaware that anything was amiss at all. That, of course, meant that someone else was pulling the strings in this sudden disappearance.
"Have you spoken to Baeddan any?" she asked, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
"Not just yet, Your Majesty."
Arturia frowned at him. "What did you hope to gain by coming to me with this problem?"
"Nothing even remotely," Percival answered honestly. "However, I was hoping that you would allow me to look into this issue further without any interference."
"What interference might you mean?"
His eyes darkened angrily. "If I find that someone has less-than-noble intentions with my friend's life, I would like to take measures against that person, should that come to pass. I do not know how far I will need to push to get to the bottom of this. For all I know, Shirou could very well be in good health with little trouble to his name at all, but he has never struck me as someone who would not inform someone else of his motives or intentions. I feel that if he were to set out on a trip to hunt for resources, that Baeddan would be one of the first to know, as his boss."
"I see," Arturia murmured softly. "And for Baeddan not to know seems to contradict Shirou's general personality as a whole, and unintentionally gave you pause."
"Baeddan is a great many things, Your Majesty, but a liar and a criminal mastermind do not fit into his scheme for life, I do not think."
"No," she agreed slowly. "No, I suppose they do not. Please understand though, Percival, that there is little I can do about this situation. Shirou is a low-ranked servant, far beneath what I 'should' consider to be important, as according to my chancellors. I cannot, in good faith, allow you to run rampant to pursue this personal goal that in no way obviously benefits the kingdom."
Her knight nodded solemnly. "I understand, of course. I realize this isn't considerably important to anyone other than myself, but –"
"Let me finish," she interrupted gently, making Percival look back at her with interest. "You know as well as I that I cannot be everywhere at once. You are also aware that I have complete and utter faith in my knights. In which case, if one of my men deems to undertake some unknown mission without my prior knowledge of the event and it, in turn, causes no irreparable harm to my people, castle, and kingdom overall, how could I ever be the wiser?"
A slow grin crept across Percival's face as the king turned her gaze away.
"So, unless I was to cause trouble directly with this mission of mine, then far be it for you to personally attend to the matter, yes?"
"What matter?" Arturia shot back, though not unkindly. "I know not of what you speak. Now, is that all, or may I attend to other matters that actually require my attention?"
Percival smiled boyishly, making Arturia huff in annoyance.
"Not at all, Your Majesty. Might you be so kind as to honor me with a kiss before I take my leave?"
She stared at him with half-closed eyes, unsure of how to deal with the sudden change in emotion.
Percival leaned in close to her and she held up a hand in front of his face.
"Do that, and I will personally see that you know how it feels to be castrated."
Percival backpedalled so quickly that Arturia thought he might trip and fall on his butt. He muttered a quick "thank you for your time" before speedily retreating from her sight and out of the room. Arturia reached over to pick up her papers as a quick grin lit up her face.
Ah, but her men were so entertaining to tease at times.
When Baeddan was called out of the kitchen and down the corridor away from where people normally walked, he vaguely knew that there was something wrong, but not the reason behind it. It was rare for Percival to ever speak to him voluntarily, and without even an insult or slight given in between. In a manner of speaking, it was almost awkward, and Baeddan very much hoped this wouldn't be some kind of "moment" for the two of them, or that Percival was not finally planning to ask for his sister's hand in marriage. Perish the thought.
Baeddan wouldn't have even considering giving permission anyway, no matter how much the man might have begged.
The very last thing he expected the moment Percival paused at the end of the corridor near the east wing's service doors was to be grabbed by the collar of his tunic and thrown against the wall. Percival's gauntleted hands ground into Baeddan's collarbone as he tightened his grip on the material, his blue eyes narrowing dangerously. Baeddan reached up to clutch at one of the knight's hands, but was completely overwhelmed by the other man's power.
"To what do I owe this pleasant greeting?" Baeddan grunted out, his own expression bordering on furious for his treatment.
"Enough of these games you play, Baeddan. I have bid my time, waiting for the day you would realize your error in judgment and release my friend from his poor situation, and yet you insist on playing these ridiculous dramatics of yours."
Baeddan snorted. "What are you prattling on about? The only game I seem to insist on playing is staying in this godforsaken wreck of a castle. I must have lost my mind somewhere over the years."
Percival ground his teeth, his anger growing in intensity.
"It is to Shirou I refer, you daft man," Percival informed the other, muscles tightening further. "What kind of cook attends to gathering resources for the castle? A job of that caliber should be delegated to a merchant, or a team of farmers, or perhaps even hunters. A cook's place is in the kitchen, not out there where he could presumably be killed."
"Shi-ro-u?" inquired Baeddan with a slight frown. "Who are you... Ah, you mean Ro, do you? What is this nonsense?"
When Percival had chosen to press Baeddan for details in such a manner, he had been absolutely certain that the man, without a doubt, was somehow implicated with whatever crime had been committed, if any. After all, if there were any troubles within the kitchens, then Baeddan was more than certain to be mixed up in it somehow – more like, the man chose to create trouble wherever he walked, and it just so happened that each situation stemmed into even bigger messes and headaches for everyone else. However, in this case, Baeddan seemed almost, dare he say, innocent. Rather, he appeared innocent of any wrongs by Shirou, at the very least.
"Nonsense?" Percival questioned, a bad feeling making its way up his spine. "You dare tell me you weren't involved whatsoever with Shirou's disappearance?"
The Head Cook shifted his head slightly, his eyes clouding over with some confusion. "Have you not heard, oh honored knight? Your pathetic disgrace of a friend is out gathering herbs or some such ridiculousness. That was hardly anything I would ever consider suitable to the boy. Regardless, we need the resources, and I am not interested in concerning myself with our fool king yet again so soon."
Percival pulled away from Baeddan, blinking a few times as if to clear his head.
"What do you mean? Are you saying you did not send him on such an errand?"
"Idiotic as the boy may be," Baeddan snorted with some derision, "he is a blessing within the kitchen. It would hardly make any sense for me to turn the child away when I dearly have use for him."
"How is it that you had no part in his going out of the castle?"
Baeddan laughed, much to Percival's annoyance. "So much time spent in the king's presence, yet he distrusts you so much that he would not tell you of a ruling he made?"
The knight stiffened, his face draining of emotion. The event caused Baeddan to grow silent, unsure of exactly what was happening.
"...I take it he made no such order," Baeddan said flatly, the possible truth dawning on him.
"He did not," Percival conceded softly, his own tone lacking emotion as well.
Baeddan cleared his throat importantly and adjusted his tunic, smoothing out the small wrinkles and ruffles that Percival had made. Percival eyed him with some distaste, his hands on his hips as he glared at the other man.
With Baeddan being somewhat of a dead end, Percival didn't really have anyone else lined up to question. Certainly, there was the riffraff that Shirou had chosen to make company with, but Percival couldn't remember what the other man looked like, and wasn't sure he wanted to even bother to take that route. He supposed he could check the recent logging of any and all servants who had left the castle for different tasks, but he had a gnawing feeling that he wouldn't see Shirou's name on that ledger. There was always the chance that Baeddan was hiding something, but lying simply wasn't his style so much as being a magnificent pain for every individual forced to contend with him.
Baeddan sniffed. "That boy attracts trouble like the plague."
"When I want your opinion of someone I look to with high esteem, I will plainly ask for it," Percival snapped. "If you know nothing of the man, you are no longer of any use to me."
"Wait," Baeddan called as Percival readied to walk away, shoulders tight. "I understand that Ro...means something to you. Or something along those lines. I do not care in the slightest. However, I am concerned that one of my best servants, much as I loathe to say that, has gone missing, without my prior notice. I may have an idea of who might be the root of all of this mayhem."
Percival turned around, eyes raised as he looked back at Baeddan with new appreciation.
"You mean to say that you, too, are worried for Shirou, Baeddan?"
When a snort of laughter met his question, Percival's expression closed off entirely.
"Worried? For that lout?" Baeddan said with a chuckle. "Please, do not jest. I am simply annoyed that if he should disappear, I would need an extra three to four hands to make up for his absence. Our king would barely grant me one servant per request. What do you think would happen were I to ask for three more?"
"Get to the point."
The Head Cook frowned softly, all humor vanishing. "I meant what I said when I believed this was the king's directive. Arthur –"
"King Arthur, you mean," Percival spat out, his fists tightening.
"Yes, yes, of course." Baeddan waved away Percival's anger as if didn't matter to him whatsoever. "King Arthur has made terrible decisions before, in that he hardly pays attention to the lesser people at all. While I did find it somewhat odd that he would specifically target Ro for this trip, I only thought it was because of his strange partiality to the man. You must have sensed that there was something strange about their relationship, surely."
"Get, to, the, point."
Baeddan shrugged. "Such impatience. That mother of yours should have taught you more manners."
A muscle in Percival's jaw jumped before he suddenly slammed a fist into Baeddan's face. The force behind it sent Baeddan crumbling to the ground, nursing his jaw with both satisfaction and pain gleaming in his eyes. With just the barest of sneers, Percival bared his teeth at Baeddan before curtly turning around and starting to walk away.
"Dai."
At the one word, Percival paused, slowly looking back at the still fallen man.
Baeddan sat up, a hand to his jaw as he stared back with no expression present on his face. He cracked his neck by shifting his head from side to side before slowly rising up.
"You want the possible perpetrator behind this insanity? I would suggest you go to Dai, of the supposed Upper Echelons in the kitchens. I will bet two horses that he is part of the reason for Ro's absence, if not the main one."
"Where is he?"
Percival's words were laced with a subtle venom, though his body posture betrayed none of that viciousness.
"Where else?" Baeddan replied, tilting his head back as he focused directly on the knight.
"Bring him to me."
"Am I your servant?" Baeddan questioned with his eyes narrowed.
Percival crossed his arms over his chest. "You will soon be so much less if you do not do as I have commanded."
Baeddan grudgingly walked away with his head held high, Percival's gaze trained on him the entire way. Percival continued watching even as Baeddan disappeared into the kitchen far down the corridor, his fingers tightening over his armor as angry thoughts swirled through his mind like leaves caught up in a breeze. He knew of this Dai – the queen had taken to assigning a couple of soldiers to guard him and make sure he didn't stir up any trouble. He had also been there the last night that Percival had spoken to Shirou. His eyes, that day, had been filled with hatred and malice, though Percival hadn't thought to pay the fact any real attention. People were free to hate those whom they wished – it was only natural as a human. The knight couldn't be certain of anything just because of that.
What if it didn't end at Dai? What if Dai was only wrapped up in some convoluted stratagem that connected loosely with more and more difficult characters? What if Shirou was in far more trouble than Percival had originally thought?
No. That couldn't be it. Percival was merely thinking too deeply about a simple matter, which was probably a side-effect from being in the king's presence so often. Considering problems from every possible angle was more along the lines of something King Arthur or Lancelot would do, and it didn't suit Percival to such a degree. No, this was a simple cut-and-chase situation.
At the sound of clanking from someone's armor, Percival slowly lifted his gaze to look at two soldiers following directly behind a sandy-brown-haired man who looked as if he had never seen the sun in his life. The man annoyed Percival at a somewhat primal level, the frown on his face showing cordiality, but still seeming as if to taunt the knight.
"You called?" the scruffy man spoke up.
"Ah, you must be Dai," Percival proceeded politely and calmly before giving the two soldiers a look. "Leave us. I will take him back to the kitchens myself."
The soldiers bowed respectfully and walked away. As soon as they were out of hearing range, Dai flicked a glance at Percival's hip before noticeably relaxing.
"You did not bring your sword, Sir."
"I do not make it a habit to carry it with me when among friends," Percival responded with a short smile. "Do you deign to label yourself my enemy?"
"Of course not," came the polite response. "Who would dare be so foolish?"
"Ah, I have the luxury of being in the presence of a civil gentleman. 'Tis good fortune indeed."
Dai was starting to becoming restless, though he tried not to show it. "May I ask the reason for why you have requested my presence?"
Percival's smile grew, though it never once reached his eyes. "Indeed, we waste time with only standing here. I am looking into an issue that has come to my attention. I wonder, do you know of my friend? His name is Shirou."
Dai's expression didn't change whatsoever upon hearing that name. "Yes, sir. We have worked together a number of times."
"Yes, yes, I see," Percival replied amicably. "Then, you must have surely noticed that Shirou has suddenly disappeared without any notice. Of course, this has caused me some concern, as he does not seem the type to leave without saying something first. I have since discovered he was recently sent on a trip as a representative of the kitchens to search for herbs. If that is the case, it is quite an honor."
"Yes, I suppose it is," Dai murmured, a sinking feeling started to take place in his stomach."If only we were all so fortunate."
"Indeed. But, this is where I must admit to being confused. You see, to go on a trip outside of the castle, a servant requires permission from the king. Yet, after speaking with His Majesty, I've come to realize that no such permission was given. Rather, my lord was hardly even aware of the event. And, with how interesting of a figure Shirou has proved to be, I find it rather odd that this particular news has not reached his ears. Would you not say this is strange?"
The feeling began to grow stronger. "Yes, Sir Percival. That seems quite strange. I wonder what all this has to do with me, I must say."
Percival crossed his arms over his chest as he continued smiling politely. "A wonderful question, Dai. I heard from a little birdie recently that you were the one to deliver news from the 'king' to Baeddan about this outing, so to speak. That makes me curious – how did you come by this information? Where are you hiding Shirou?"
Dai's change in reaction was immediate. "You have no proof that I've done anything. All you have is the word of a cook that talks shit about the king on a normal basis."
Dai's fingers curled up to make fists, the muscles in his arms tightening as a shadow loomed over Percival's face. The knight sighed softly.
"I was hoping we could converse about this like gentleman, but it would seem you will not give me a choice in the matter."
"You don't scare me. I don't care if you're some knight or not. You can't touch me without suitable cause."
"Big words," murmured Percival, his eyes darkening perceptibly. "But can you back them up, I wonder?"
"You're going to attack a civilian?" Dai grunted out with a slow smirk. "You can't. The king would –"
His words ceased as Percival grabbed a hold of Dai's tunic, and swirled around to throw the servant into the wall with no hesitation whatsoever. Dai gasped out as his head cracked against the wall like a whip before he glared up at the knight, who suddenly seemed like an entirely different person.
"Listen, I am going to say this once, and that is all," Percival warned in low tones, his grip never wavering. "My friend has gone missing, and no one knows where he is. I have heard your name a number too many times for your rudeness and ruthlessness. You have guards posted to your person no matter where you go, or what you do. You are not an innocent. Let's make that clear.
"You are quite free to act like you have had no hand in this deception. I am going to search high and low for Shirou. I will search the dungeons, I will search your room, I will talk to every single person you have ever spoken to, I will wander the sewers or send people to do so if necessary. I will scour the entire castle if I must, but I tell you this: if ever I find that you have had even the slightest implication in Shirou's disappearance, your head will be on the chopping block before you can count to three. Do you understand?"
Dai sneered. "You have no right. When the king finds out, your knighthood will be stripped and you'll be as meaningless as the rest of us."
"Keep thinking as much, you little piece of filth," the knight spat out. "Though maybe you should ask yourself who the king will be more than likely to believe – his faithful knight, who has fought beside him without recourse, or you, the little troublemaker that even the queen is slightly wary of? It isn't terribly difficult to figure out the answer to that question."
Then, as if nothing had ever happened, Percival pulled away with a kind smile on his face, leaving Dai spinning. Percival gestured down the hallway, softly saying,
"Now, I must ensure that you are taken back to the kitchens as promised. Shall we go?"
Dai was reasonably shaken as he duly and silently followed after Percival towards the kitchens and into the proverbial protection of his two guards. Percival gave him one last slow smile before he walked off to his next destination. Dai was hardly worried that Percival would somehow connect him to the crime – he'd covered the evidence leading back to him well enough, in his opinion. However, if the man was intending to search the entire castle, in particular, the dungeons... That wouldn't do.
Valeria could fuck herself. Dai wasn't interested in playing this little game anymore. Shirou needed to be eliminated, and soon. Dai smirked as he walked back into the kitchens with his head high.
And he had the perfect tool to make it happen.
"Kill him?"
Meilyr was stunned. He hadn't spoken to Dai for weeks since he'd first been ordered to guard over the prisoner or face the consequences, but this is not how he had expected the next meeting to turn out.
Dai spared the two guards posted a few meters away a quick glance before glaring at Meilyr again.
"Look, you," Dai growled, slamming finger against Meilyr's armor. "You remember who you're working for, don't you? It's me, you imbecile, not the goddamned king. Either you do as I say, or I take your life, you miserable coward. Now, which will it be?"
"B-but, I don't understand," Meilyr stammered out, his expression full of confusion. I thought I was just supposed to watch over him. Why the sudden need to –"
"That's my business, not yours! Either you do this, or else!"
Meilyr took a step back. "B-but, this isn't right. Dai, I'm not sure what it is you have against the fellow, but Shirou has done nothing wrong. I'm sure of it. This is all a mistake. It would be in our best interests to free him, not kill him. We can make this all right again, without a doubt."
Dai took a good, long look at Meilyr, a frown of puzzlement crossing his face before anger quickly replaced it.
"You pitiful, little fool. You've taken a liking to the bastard, haven't you?" he sneered, rounding in on Meilyr with barely concealed hate. "Let me guess: he gave you some ridiculous sob story, and now you want to make things all better again, do you?"
"There was no sob story," Meilyr affirmed with a slightly steadier voice. "I know it in my heart and soul that he is not meant to be in that dungeon. He should have never been placed there. He's been framed of something."
"Your goody-two-shoes act does nothing but make me angry," Dai said, spitting in Meilyr's face. "Fine, take that bleeding heart and get the hell away from me. I'll send someone else to do the job for you."
The soldier looked taken aback, but didn't try to argue the point. There was just one last thing on his mind.
"What of my family?" Meilyr asked quietly. "I've done all you've told me to do up until now. Will you keep your promise to keep me on the list? Without those necessary resources, my family won't make it..."
The scruffy cook looked at Meilyr, completely surprised, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.
"Your family?" he asked, tilting his head. "The list?"
"Yes, the list that we soldiers are applied to so that shipments to our families are calculated out," Meilyr said slowly, panic starting to well up in him. "You promised that you would no longer take any interest in hurting my family so long as I did what you asked."
Dai blinked a couple of times, not saying a word in return. "Did I? The list?"
He tilted his head the other way before a bark of laughter suddenly left his mouth. "Oh, the list! You little fool! You were never part of any list. Your family has been dead for over a year! Both of ours have, thanks to a sea trek gone wrong."
Meilyr froze, his mind refusing to accept the new information. "I do not understand. Dai, you promised that..."
"Not that I take pleasure in reminiscing, but I wonder if you recall back when we were both children, and your family denied mine a kill that would have fed us for an entire week. Or maybe when your little brother decided to leave me in that hole to my death. Or when your mother slapped me for no reason whatsoever? Karma is quite a pain, isn't it?"
Meilyr's face paled before abruptly turning a dark shade of red from anger. "Your part of the family stole all of our fishing supplies and our fishing spot, and yet you somehow thought that you would take the kill when we were able to catch something regardless? My little brother was two! How could he have possibly helped you? And my mother slapped you because you hit me!"
"I didn't deserve that trouble your family caused me, Meileer."
Meilyr gritted his teeth. "Do not call me that. Those actions were no one's fault but your own!"
Dai smirked. "And so here we are."
"Why was I ever cursed with a cousin like you? How could I have been so foolish as to believe you would help one of your own?"
Dai dangled a key in front of Meilyr's face, with a grin that could match the Cheshire Cat's. Meilyr eyed the keys with an empty expression, his shoulders slumping as he stood there with nothing else to support him.
"There is nothing left for you, Meilyr," Dai consoled. "I would hate to leave you to simply fading away, and I really would prefer to simply rely on you instead of getting some other peon to do your work for you. Just think of it as one last thing for our family."
"Why would I?" Meilyr asked, his voice dull.
"My aunt always said you were a boy who would do anything for his family. I'm all you have left now. Your main family may be gone, but we leftovers have got to stick together. What do you say, cousin?"
Meilyr looked at the key for a few more seconds before slowly reaching out and grabbing them.
"What else have I to lose?"
Dai continued smirking. "That's the spirit."
Shirou bit into the wilted cabbage, and sighed. What he wouldn't do for a bowl of white rice, some tempura, a nice filet of grilled mackerel, some gyouza, miso soup, and piping hot glass of green tea on the side. It's been ages since he's had the opportunity to eat "real" food with "real" seasoning in a situation that was nice and calming. Just half year before, he had been relaxing in his and Rin's house, and now... Well, at least no one came around to bother him in the jail. It gave him a lot of time for introspection.
Another thing that now bothered him, though, had to be his jailor. Meilyr had been solemnly quiet for the past few days, never sparing Shirou a single word whenever he brought food. It was actually somewhat unnerving for the redhead as it was just so unlike Meilyr to be unfriendly in any sense. It seemed like he had a lot on his mind, and though Shirou wanted to ask, he was hardly a stranger to dark, unbidden thoughts, so he chose to give Meilyr his peace and leave it at that. When the man was ready, he would broach a conversation on his own.
"Have you ever killed, Shirou?"
Huh, like now.
Shirou frowned. "I have, yes."
"How did you deal with everything that happened after?"
"Oh, you know," Shirou started, shrugging his shoulders, "lost sight of myself, regretted taking someone's life, forgot how to fight, forgot how to be me. Nothing out of the ordinary."
Meilyr turned his gaze downward towards the ground he sat on, looking nothing short of depressed.
"That sounds like a terrible experience. I would hate to forget who I am."
"It's not the most pleasant thing to go through. I wouldn't recommend it."
Meilyr turned to look at Shirou. "I spoke with Dai the other day."
Ah, that was reason enough for anyone to become upset, even in the slightest. Meilyr turned back around to stare at the opposite wall, his face shadowed.
"For the past year, I have been living a lie," Meilyr confessed softly. "I told you that I became a soldier for the sake of my family, did I not, Shirou? I became a soldier because I firmly believed that I could help them by leaving them and taking care of them from afar. I left with the intention to do my best in hopes that this way was the best path to take. I came here because in my mind, there was no alternate route available to me."
Shirou stayed silent, wondering where Meilyr was going with this. The latter gripped his helmet in his hands tightly.
"I just found out that for the past year, I have been doing all of this for no one's sake, not even my own. My family has long since been dead from a fishing incident. My mother, father, brothers, sisters... All of them are gone, and without me ever once knowing of their deaths. It leads me to wonder what I was ever thinking, leaving them and coming to Camelot. I cannot fight, I cannot assist the king in any manner – I am nothing short of worthless. I realize this now."
Meilyr stood up on his side of the bars, and Shirou watched him out of the corners of his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He wasn't sure if Meilyr simply needed to rant, or if there was really a reason behind telling Shirou all of this. Shirou was hardly a stranger to losing others – after all, he'd essentially lost every person he'd ever loved or been friendly with by going through time. They may as well have been dead to him – he probably wouldn't be able to ever return to his time.
In a way, he could understand how Meilyr felt, and yet, there was no denying that he would never truly understand what it meant to lose one's entire family. Yes, he had lost Kiritsugu, but it wasn't quite the same. It wasn't, and Shirou would be unfair for acting as if it were.
Meilyr turned to stare down at Shirou. "I never did tell you that Dai and I are related. We're cousins."
Shirou's head swiveled around, his neck popping with the quick action. He stared back at Meilyr, completely gobsmacked. They were cousins? Well, it wasn't like Shirou was a stranger to crazy relationships either. His own adopted sister had attempted to kill him with a berserk Greek hero with twelve freaking lives. There was also the fact that his sister wasn't exactly human either, but it wasn't necessarily important to dwell on the details.
"Oh," Shirou offered lamely, unsure of what to say.
Would it have been rude to say, "Sorry, your cousin's a dick and I'm going to kill him"?
Meilyr continued looking at him, his face empty of all expression.
"I was ordered to kill you, as a favor to my last remaining relative."
Shirou rose to his feet slowly, shoulders tightening as he considered Meilyr's words. "Oh? And do you plan to?"
That he would fight back against his new friend went unsaid – they both knew what would happen, and they both knew that Shirou would more than likely win. He would just hate himself for a good, long time afterwards.
Meilyr dropped his gaze for a moment before his eyes rose up again, hardened from making his decision.
"No," he said determinedly, a click in the door echoing through the cell as the iron door slowly swung open, much to Shirou's surprise.
"I plan to free you."
Shirou stared at Meilyr, shock racing through his body. He looked first at Meilyr, then to the door, then back at his jailor, almost unable to comprehend what had just occurred. Meilyr took the confusion in stride, and simply walked into the cell himself and set his helmet down on the ground.
"What?" Shirou asked weakly, thinking this must have been some kind of trick. "What about Dai? What if he finds out?"
Meilyr grasped at one of his gauntlets and unclasped parts of it before sliding it off easily. It was as he was doing the same action to the other that he said,
"Dai is a manipulative, pathetic soul who would stop at nothing to hurt others so long as it somehow benefits him in the end."
The other gauntlet came off. "I have spent far too long hiding in that man's shadow, strung by his fingers' threads, doing whatever he would bid me to do.
Next, Shirou watched as Meilyr unhooked his pauldron from his breastplate. Then, he slowly shimmied out of his breastplate as well, setting it gently on the ground next to everything else. Shirou eyed him carefully – Meilyr, for all of his confided weakness, was still fairly muscular and had a decent build under all of his armor. Shirou couldn't tell for sure, as the man was still wearing a loose tunic, but he definitely wasn't all skin and bones.
Meilyr looked at him without any hesitation. "I will die before enacting any plan of his, especially when it concerns someone who should have never been punished in the first place. If his desire is that you should die, that is precisely what I must fight against, with all that I am. I am no one's slave."
He took off his sabatons and greaves next, and lined them up next to the other parts. Shirou frowned at him.
"I see," was all he said as he looked down at all of the armor parts. "I can understand that. What I don't get though, is why you're stripping everything off. What are you doing?"
Meilyr cocked a slight grin at Shirou before next slipping off his cuisses. As soon as the cuisses were off, he stood back up and slipped off his tunic, his pale skin smooth and unblemished. He turned to Shirou and held out the tunic to the redhead, still smiling.
"You will be wearing these in my stead, of course."
Shirou stared back blankly. "I'm sorry, what?"
Meilyr chuckled. "Wear this armor in my place, Shirou."
"Can't we just, I don't know, walk out together?"
Meilyr immediately lost his smile. "One soldier came down here, and it is only one soldier who may leave without raising any suspicion. In addition, my cousin seeks your life. You would not make it past the upper level before someone attempted to stab you or put you in a terrible position. My armor will shield you. The helmet will hide your identity. I know of no other way than this for you to get out. I beg that you understand."
Shirou gritted his teeth and looked down at the tunic bitterly. "So you have to stay here while I go off to my freedom? What's fair about this?"
His jailor shook his head, and thrust the tunic into Shirou's arms. "You act as if there is nothing but fault with this plan. Please remember that I chose this path. Not you, not Dai, not even the king, but me. I, for once, am acting out my own desires without anyone forcing me into one position or another. I am freely choosing to take this route, to liberate you. It has been a long time since I sought to do something for the sake of myself and none other."
"This isn't right," Shirou muttered, clenching the tunic in his grasp.
"Such is life, eh, my friend?" Meilyr quipped with another smile. "If you are so opposed, then see that my choice is not made in vain. Show my cousin that he has taken the wrong and unjust path. If you can do that, then I have no regrets whatsoever."
Shirou looked down at the tunic, never once attempting to make eye contact with Meilyr. After a few seconds of deliberation, he slowly nodded his head in concession. If that was what Meilyr wanted, then Shirou could do that, or attempt to.
"Wonderful, my friend," Meilyr said with some joyfulness in his voice. "Now, let us fit this armor on you. I dare say that I doubt you have ever worn any yourself."
Shirou chuckled to himself as the tunic went over his head. Meilyr was smaller than him by a bit, but it still fit more or less. Shirou next took off his breeches – Meilyr was admittedly taken aback by his boxers, and upon saying that he'd like to inspect them, Shirou firmly told him no. He switched Meilyr's breeches, which were the same color as the rest of the soldiers', and then one by one, began putting on one piece of armor after another.
It was somewhat awkward for Shirou to be clasped in armor, and the metal was heavy. It was heavy! He wouldn't be doing much running and jumping with all of that on, and found himself suddenly seeing Saber in a new light. She'd run up a building with this crap on, plus she'd been carrying a huge sword like Excalibur, too. Certainly, she had been a Servant at the time, but, in this day and age, she hopped up on horses and fled off into the distance like a medieval Batman, so that was still something. Shirou lifted up one arm and frowned at the amount of energy necessary to keep it raised.
Meilyr grinned at him, having already shifted into Shirou's boots and breeches.
"Armor is rather cumbersome, isn't it?"
Shirou just looked at him as if he were crazy. "Cumbersome" was not the first word to come to Shirou's mind. Try annoying, heavy, bulky, and pain-in-the-ass.
Meilyr continued smiling before giving the open cell door one last glance.
"Shirou," he said, sobering as he thought up his next words, "I do not know what comes next for you. I do not know what you will face. I only hope that by doing this, you will reach some sort of closure. Dai was wrong to put you here, and he was wrong to try to force you into such a terrible situation. I hope that you can find it in your heart to somehow see past that."
Shirou sighed. "I don't know if I can. I'm surprised you would ask me to."
"He is a manipulative demon," Meilyr said, "but he is still my cousin, my family. I hate him with all my soul, and still love him with all my heart. He is all I have left. I understand that this does not hold true for you, but I know that I would never be able to hurt him. This is all I can do to fight against him."
Meilyr shrugged one shoulder. "I have no regrets."
"Meilyr," Shirou started before being pushed out of the cell and into the corridor.
The brunet smiled again and closed the door himself. "You must leave now. I normally go back at this time, and if you are to maintain anonymity, you must leave quickly. Do not concern yourself with me, I will be fine."
Shirou glared back at Meilyr before nodding curtly. "I'll make sure to come back."
"See that you take care of what all must be done first. I am a secondary matter. Now, go."
The redhead gave Meilyr one last cursory look before walking down the corridor.
One step after another took Shirou past one cell after another, up to the next floor, and then down the long line of cells with guards posted at each one. He walked past each jailor with nervousness swirling in his stomach, wondering if they would be able to tell who he was. It wasn't until he had left the dungeon entirely that he felt all of his anxiousness just float away, like nothing had every happened. He stood at the top of the steps outside of the door leading back down to the dungeon. For the first time in a month or so, he was out of a cell and in relative freedom.
Shirou felt his muscles tighten as he walked away from the dungeon door and away from the watchful gazes of the men posted to watch the dungeons. Blue sparks of prana leapt over the armor as anger boiled deep within him. No matter what happened, he was going to find Dai and make him pay. Shirou wouldn't kill him right away, no. That would be too convenient, and if he did that, there was no telling what Dai's little network might do, much less Valeria, for that matter. No, Shirou would make Dai see the error of his ways, not only for Shirou's sake, but for Meilyr's as well. What Dai had done was unforgivable – no human being should be able to treat anyone else like that, no matter what.
War was one thing – mindlessly hurting people because you found enjoyment in it? That was something else entirely, and Shirou was not going to stand for it for even one more second.
He walked down the hall, not really knowing where he was going, when he heard voices of people walking his way.
"I would at least like to watch how you attend to the prisoner. You would deny me even that?"
"Your Majesty, I mean no offense, but I feel that you would not be able to stand idle while we have all the fun."
"I would hardly consider this as fun, Tristan."
"Beating the ever loving lights out of a terrible person? If that is not entertainment, Sire, then I fail to understand what is!"
Shirou stopped in his tracks, eyes wide.
She was here? That wouldn't do. King Arthur needed to be told about what had just occurred within her castle over the past month, but Shirou didn't yet have any proof to give her. Without that, she wouldn't pay him any mind and that might cause trouble for him later.
He needed to talk to Dai, and take care of the situation. If Dai could not be dealt with in a fatal manner, then Shirou would simply need to extract every last bit of information the idiot held within that head of his so Shirou could find a way to contend with the situation better. Even if Dai could point him to his superiors, or tell Shirou where Valeria was hiding, or who she really worked for, then he would quickly have a leg up and be able to produce some results in a satisfactory time period.
There were so many things he needed to do...
Shirou shook himself to get rid of the thoughts that suddenly plagued him. At the moment, his task was to act like a normal soldier and get past his newest obstacle: the king. That's right, he would hold his head high and march forward like he belonged there. She couldn't know who he was or he wouldn't be able to do anything.
He walked forward with new vigor, trying to look like a normal soldier as he walked past. He saw her as soon as she rounded a corner with a few of her men. He noticed Percival almost immediately, and nearly smiled before remembering his current mission: getting away without catching anyone's attention. As King Arthur neared his position – were they going to the dungeons? – he happily thought that he was doing okay.
Time seemed to slow down for him as she passed him by, though he never caught the quick glance she gave him and the subtle narrowing of eyes. As Shirou walked away, King Arthur faced forward again, her mouth in a tight line as she once again rejoined the conversation with her knights.
Why was he...?
Shirou was simply happy that he'd been able to fool everyone, even the king. Now, with that problem behind him, he needed to deal with the even direr one: Dai. Now, how would he find out where Dai's quarters were?
It was time to pay a visit to Zago for a little reunion.
See you guys with the next installment. Hopefully it won't take two months again...