Chapter 8: Divine Light
In which things are overthinked and the point missed.
"Are you sure this is not your original form, mongrel?" Gilgamesh pulled Rider closer to his couch and forced him to sit on its edge.
"I'm actually fond of this body, because it is the one that let me know endless beauty of ordinary things," Arjuna answered, as casual as he could, putting the wine back on the table. "All I had to do was to crush my ego."
"But it's still here, and seems quite big, from what I can see."
"It is. It's a part of being born a mortal. And a man."
"You think you're smart, but I know that you say these things to ruin the mood." Gilgamesh was playing for a while with the curls of his Servant's hair, then his hand moved to Rider's back. It was still a muscular back of a bowman, he discovered with a certain dose of amusement. He should have formed his orders precisely, that was an important lesson for the future. "Struggle all you desire, but I will have you, sooner or later."
"Rather later, from what I see." Arjuna chuckled at his Master's confusion and it was a feminine, attractive sound. "I was never a saint, my king, I do know lust. There's no sign of it in your gaze... yet."
"As if lust was truly needed to make a woman know her place and purpose!" Gilgamesh mocked; his tyrannical laughter echoed through the room. "Since some parts of your legend slipped into my dreams already, do not dare play the fool, just answer my questions. You surely used to attract some men, not only during that time in disguise. Have you ever responded to their advances?"
Rider tried hard to not show, how worried he was by this revelation. So they went this far with their Servant-Master bond, even with barely any interaction? Was it because of the Gilgamesh's outstanding potencial or the Age of Gods made everything complicated?
The question itself was problematic as well, however no more than the king's hand caressing Rider's thighs. This kind of touch had long ago crossed the border of what Arjuna would call proper and now became highly uncomfortable.
Still, he managed to give Gilgamesh a somehow wicked smile in response.
"Even lovers keep secrets from each other. And that, my king, would be mine."
"Careful, mongrel. I know ways to make people cry out their secrets to me."
Rider had a snarky comment about edgy threats on the tip of his tongue, but he suddenly felt out of breath. His neck, collarbone and exposed arm had been assaulted by slow yet violent kisses. What normally could be taken as a caress of a lover, reminded Arjuna rather of a predator, searching for the best spot to bite the immobilized prey and do as much damage as possible. Whether or not all of it was only to humiliate the Servant, the king seemed to have fun.
To make everything worse, Arjuna's Noble Phantasm activated against his will. Colors and smells reached him few times stronger than before, all unimaginably beautiful. The distant sounds of the city and wildlife around it now sounded like a sweet music. He saw even the particles of magic in the air, so clearly he could touch them. And Gilgamesh became in his eyes just a pillar of divine light.
To think that this Noble Phantasm would never activate, if his Master was a mortal... the two-thirds of a god in Gilgamesh made it possible. Fate could be really cruel sometimes. Rider had no choice but to go with the flow of raging magic and curse the summoning system for allowing such awful spells to exist.
"Your Highness..." A frightened servant interrupted those struggles and almost fell flat to the floor, pierced by Gilgamesh's furious gaze. "Lady Siduri sent me to inform you that she has troubles with putting Lord Enkidu to bed."
"Call the guards to help her then."
"They tried, my Lord. But you're the only one who can match Lord's Enkidu strength. And when there's alcohol involved..."
Gilgamesh sighed.
First Enkidu, now Siduri, huh? How dare you steal them from me? He smiled wickedly, feasting on the confusion in Rider's eyes. You'll pay for that. But tonight... have it your way.
"Fine. Tell Siduri that I'll take care of it." The servant walked away in a hurry and Gilgamesh stood up with a flourish, knocking Rider off the couch. "You may go rest, mongrel. Your performance was entertaining enough, you deserved it this time."
Arjuna returned to his room on autopilot, still fighting with the effects of his Noble Phantasm. It felt wonderful yet awful. It was a bliss and a torture. Magic was truly a vile thing, to forcefully turn such beautiful display of devotion into a grim joke.
"What an asshole," Rider spat out, not sure if he meant Gilgamesh or himself.
But, most importantly... What was wrong with this body? Why was it responding to a touch of such awful man?
Right, let's blame everything on magic. That would be convenient, wouldn't it?
No, body had nothing to do with it. As Rider told Siduri before, a mere container could not change or influence his true self in any way.
Apparently, he was a much worse person than his Master. Gilgamesh was everything Arjuna couldn't ever be, even if he wanted to. The king did not pretend to be someone else, he did what he wanted to do and took anything he desired. Unlike Rider, he wasn't drowning in the bottomless ocean of self-loathing.
Such boldness could be considered attractive, Arjuna thought, especially when there was real power behind it. Gilgamesh had a potent divine aura around him, perfect build and gaze of a hungry predator. He, indeed, possessed the best qualities of the gods and humans of this land mixed together...
Where had those thoughts even come from, huh? Why was he impressed by a damn tyrant? Did it mean that his soul was this rotten?
Rider sighed. He performed that specific dance tonight to purge the evils within himself. Obviously, it did not work.
Still, what could he really do against the king's divine authority? As a hero, whose legend had been built around worship, he was probably more affected by this kind of aura than any other of Gilgamesh's subjects. What looked simply like a warm, golden light to others, to Arjuna was blinding, so much he could cry in pain.
Now that's a total disaster. Even my own thoughts make no sense anymore...
Exhausted, by both dancing and prolonged tension, Rider breathed out loudly, burying his face in his hands. Was this how the famous storyteller, Scheherazade, felt every night? If they ever meet, Arjuna will treat her with mad respect!
Why was he still fighting, though? Wouldn't it be easier to just give up and self-destruct? Or to endure and forget? Gilgamesh would surely lose interest right after getting what he wanted. It wasn't a matter of pride, let alone of proving anything. Then why Arjuna kept struggling?
"Because no." It was the only answer he could think of at the moment. Quite surprising, for he never considered himself defiant. "Not like that."
After saying that out loud, Rider understood the reason. The game they played at some point became a battle, just like Siduri implied before. And Arjuna had never fled or retreated from the battlefield, not once in his life.
He would accept eventual defeat, but not cowardly escape. And he decided to feed himself with this lie, until he believed it.
I wanted to publish two chapters at once, but the page tends to freak out, when I do, so it's better to wait a bit. Thank You for all the PMs, comments etc. Let's go with the true ending first, as You suggest. And thank You for staying this long!