I awoke at an unnamed hour to find myself alone in the forest of dreams. As I stretch a little in my nest of overgrown grass, I can feel the heat still rising where Archer spent the night beside me. He must have just gotten up.

My eyes grudgingly open to a bleak darkness as if I was only asleep for twenty minutes. The red drapes still blanket me, and I never would have thought I could ever again find comfort in that color. His sleeves were comfortably too big, and even now they keep the heat in. I pull them off, smooth them straight, and lay them on his folded silks.

No one's in our little clearing. It's a safe bet that they just let me sleep longer, but it's a little creepy being somewhere I don't know and absolutely alone… well, its creepy being somewhere I don't know with people I do know but are super-soldiers from the past, but this feels a little worse all of a sudden. I stand at full height and stretch before honing my ears.

Harder…harder…

"No no no, that will not do! If they truly are combatant warriors, a frontal assault will not prevail!"

"You are not listening to me," the lifeless moan of Archer's voice tickles my ears in reassurance. "I'm not saying a frontal assault – I was suggesting a slight of hand."

"Ah, a tip of the hat, so to speak?"

I fade back away from them (it's a boring conversation anyway) and try to find our emerald knight.

He was fishing.

Of all the things.

He doesn't need to turn to know I'm there – he could hear me rustling from my little nest in the grass. He smiles sideways, brilliantly, waiting for me to come by his side.

I would have thought that the easiest way to fish with skills like his would be to simply spear the fish in the river, but here he sits idly, one leg kicked out, one bent under him, as if he's soaking in the sunshine. Like it's the last day on Earth, and he's simply enjoying what he can of life's smallest pleasures. Tied to the end of his crimson spear is a string, fastened tightly to the tip, with the opposite end bobbing dreamily away in the gentle current. A small pile accumulates beside him of minnows and salmon, the most recent one set aside with a bit in it.

"I never pegged you for a sushi kind-of-guy." I sit beside him on a flat stone. Lancer leans back on his left arm, a kind gleam glistening in his eyes as he muses over days long gone.

"I myself do not peg an Irishman as a raw-fish consumer. However," He flips his stray strand away and faces me, orange eyes bright. "The world will always turn away from where it was last. There is no harm in trying something I have yet to test."

I wrap my arms around my legs and look up at the dreary sky again. "I feel like it should be about dawn-ish, but its dark as hell right now. Am I off, or did the sun die?" Lancer looks forward across the river and into the bleak forest. "I can neither confirm nor deny your assessments, but my internal clock seems to be out of array as well. It is hard to judge the world around you, when you yourself do not know what you are judging."

"Were you always so… wise? And wordy?" I ask. He smiles fondly, and I blush. I look away to hide my cheeks, and he keeps his eyes forward. "I have never before been called a wise man, nor a… wordy one." I glance quickly back at him to see his soft face patiently waiting for me to return to him. "Thank you. Your words mean a lot to me."

I huff, not unlike Archer would. "My teacher said the only words to take into consideration are from people who are important."

"And you do not think you yourself is important? Where you not vying just last night with the man clad in red that you belong among us?"

I don't know how to reply to that, so I simply don't. I peek back at him to see his magnificent gaze tracing the bobbing ripples in the river. We sit silently for a moment, and while I'd really APPRECIATE the opportunity to understand everything, there are more pressing questions on my mind right now.

"No one ever called you wise?" I pester gently. Lancer's brow furrows a little as he thinks it over. He responds in due time. "I am sure one of my sons must have said it once, but I do not recall it. I highly doubt I would have allowed such a comment to pass by, however."

"You had a son?" I can't help but speak with surprise – him, a heroic spirit, a legend, a fairytale!

"Oh yes, four, actually." His face falls apart at the memory of the family left behind in the tide of time. "Yes. I recall it now. He called me wise when we were building a new shed. I was wise to him because I knew to place the door on the East side, so that we could-"
"So you could watch the sun rise." I interject quietly. He turns back to me. His black hair seems at one with the space above us. "Yes, precisely." He sighs and lets his gaze trail back to the buoy in the river. "That was what made me a wise man. I wish my father could have heard that."

"I didn't know you had kids. I bet they were something special."
"Every child is special, dear Kazumi. Mine were simply… perfect. Perfect beyond belief."

This is nice. I can almost feel the sun on my back too. "Were you married?"
The silence lingers longer than usual here. The buoy bobs too and fro before he responds; and when he does, he stands up, leaving me behind as he reenters his few memories.

"Yes, I was married. I loved her, and she loved me. She was precious, my Grainne. Her beauty is eternal and shall never be matched by this wretched world." He quickly pulls the thread off his Gáe Dearg. His fingers are nimble, almost like Berserker's piano-players', but I know it's from long practice of a different skill. How do you skin a hare, after all?

"Why do you treat me so kindly?" He tosses his hook down in the blank space on the ground beside me; it was made of some twine.

"Why must you ask that?"
"I don't mean to compare, but Archer isn't all that kind, and he…. Kinda has a point… sometimes."

He huffs in his own way, an acknowledgment of my words. "Because you remind me of her." His lanky legs weave over boulders until he finds a proper perch.
Do I dare ask?

"Who?"
"My daughter." He spears a salmon within seconds, easily the biggest one yet.

Finally, he looks back at me. His eyes are sad, yet… fulfilled. "You remind me of my daughter."

"So... it wasn't just four sons."

Lancer throws the fish down on the pile. "No, she was the last of our children. Grainne wanted a daughter so desperately." He leans against his spear, clean of the blood he spilled hundreds of years ago. "And she was so… perfect."

His aggression towards the fish makes me guilty; he wasn't like that before I came over. It's all my fault.

"I'm sorry," I begin, standing and brushing water droplets and dirt off my jeans. "I'll go back to the others."

"Wait."

I turn around and face him. He is hesitant at first, but makes his way in a single bound across the simple river.

The sky is dark, and in each direction, shadows linger with the most malevolent of intentions. The trees sway at bay to the vile breeze, a stiff wind cold as an unsheltered child.

He stands in front of me, his broad chest inches from my face. I look up at him as he thinks his words over. I smile a little, encouraging, and patient.

"I am a knight of Fionne. Do you know what that means?"
"…"

I don't blink. I can tell he needs this off his chest. How long has it been since he's really spoken his mind?
His dark hair wrestles the uncaring breeze. I don't feel cold though… I'm not cold at all.

"That means that I am a killer. I am an unforgivable killer in my time and no code of chivalry can make up for that, not when chivalry is dead in an age such as this." His orange eyes bleed as he speaks. "I used to think my code of conduct was a reason to fight forward, if I do not have my family to defend. But if there is nothing to fight for, as my code is absent today, and my pride all but lost memories of a time long forgotten… tell me, do you truly think me a wise man? Why do you not fear a killer such as myself?"

He's practically praying with his eyes alone, praying to hear what he fears. Do I tell him how I genuinely feel, or tell him what he wants to hear?

"I… the biggest fight I've ever been in is with myself. I don't know how to march in war, and the thought of even trying terrifies me." I glance down and wring my hands, but refocus on him. Diarmuid remains unchanged. "You… well, all of you have fought actual battles before. It's a crazy thought, since war seems to bring out the worst in people. I mean, we had a world war a while ago – well, I wasn't around for it, but in the big scheme of things I guess it really wasn't all that long ago – and some really, really horrible stuff happened. I thought… well, what I'm trying to say… I guess I'm just saying there's difference between fighting for the moment and fighting for the future. It takes a lot to stand in a war like you guys all did, and even more to bring the peace you fought for.

You sign up for war knowing you may never come back. If nothing else, you're brave as hell."

He smiles beautifully, defeat in his heart. "Bravery is nothing more than glorified exuberance. That is not a characteristic of a wise man."

"No, I don't think so." He cocks his head as he arches a brow. "A wise man's really just a deep-seated guy. You see the truth of the world and you question it – if that's not wisdom… well, I don't know what is. Besides, you do still have your family to fight for." He reclines slightly, startled by the suggestion. "What do you mean?"
"Didn't you know? Its said some Scottish clan is filled with your descendants, or at least the descendants of the people who aspired to be like you. If you won't fight for the moment, you're still welcome to fight for the future."

He stands, [shocked], his mouth slightly agape. I can see his eyes shaking slightly in realization, as he raises his hands to the heavens.

"You speak the truth?" His voice is low, almost non-audible.

"Yeah. They claim to be your descendants, I'm sure of it. The crest is a boar, we had a quiz in first year on the clans of Ireland and the noble families of Scotland." Are you okay? I almost asked.

He's laughing. It's a beautiful and weak thing at first, but picks up fervor like swallows dancing the sky away. Lancer raises his hands and drops them behind his head as he spins on his heel.

I thought they learned everything about the world when they materialized. I guess its just the modern world, or maybe the reception's spotty this go 'round.

He laughs fully and finishes his spin by wrapping his arms around me. His squeeze is something ferocious, and his body shakes with joy.

He holds tightly. I think he's found his peace.

Heh. And to think I'm the one who helped him.

I wrap my arms around him, and he releases all too soon. He holds me at arms length. Was he crying just now?

I smile with all my heart, wedging my eyes shut. "So, I guess whether or not chivalry's dead, or you're dead, there's always someone you've impacted greatly. Does that answer your question? I'm not afraid of you because you're not someone to fear, but someone to… to respect." When I open my eyes, it's not me he's looking at.

I doubt I look anything like his daughter did, but I'm sure he's seeing her right now.

.

.

.

I was rewatching Fate/Zero to get some notes on the characterization, and I couldn't help but break down a bit at Lancer's death; why? Because, right beforehand, someone confronted him with respect, something he spent his entire life fighting for (in the legend, at least). The clan referenced is a Highland Scottish clan, Clan Campbell. It's a pretty widespread one with a few ties to royalty, and the surname is prevalent today. Who knows, maybe you're a descendent of Diarmuid? :P As to the "knowing everything when they materialize," I think Diarmuid actually knew this legend, but to hear it from someone made it a little more real than a long-lost hope. The fact that someone acknowledged it as a fact, someone so far from his homeland, would have meant the world to him.

I love Diarmuid. The ending he was given in Fate/Zero really didn't do him justice. If it wasn't clear, I'm a little biased when it comes to sexy men of moral.

Shits gonna go down pretty soon, we're pretty much bridging into the climax of the story. I'll keep uploading at least bi-weekly