By the Bonfire: Shadow of the Lake
"Repeat that to me?"
A grunt from the one who spread the news, they spared her barely a glance as they turned over their shoulder and looked at her. She knew them as one of the other Servants, the druid or along those lines with the fur hood and the blue hair. The one whose counterpart was a Lancer.
"The Saber from Fuyuki, King Arthur or whatever the heck they would call themselves now." He drank once more, she had to hold herself back from slapping the mug from his hand and shaking him down for answers. She could already feel her hands balled into fists by her side, mere happenstance led her here at this time and place and allowed her to listen in on the news, though she was sure it would have come to her eventually.
"You mean to say that King Arthur, King of Camelot, is currently in Chaldea, at this very moment?"
A raised eyebrow, the Caster Cu shot her a look before they replied slowly. "That is what I just said, yeah. Not sure if she's like me though. Looks the same as I remember her being for the latter part of that war, though that was after something really nasty happened." he grimaced as though recalling something, scratching his chin. Though she had long since stopped listening to his words by this point.
King Arthur was here.
The King Arthur that Gareth served was finally here.
That meant they could finally act.
"Where are they?"
The man was midway through the drink when she asked, they raised a single finger towards her in a gesture for her to wait. She felt her lips pulled tight and her jaw clench hard, her posture straightened as she stared at them with mounting irritation. Being so close and then waiting for something like this, they were supposed to be ready at a moment's notice and this fool was slumming away in a tavern like a common drunk. It very nearly made her blood burn, though she was able to hold herself back from reacting immediately.
Pulling the glass tankard from his hand, he smacked his lips twice before he spun around in his seat, leaning on the counter of the bar and then looking her up and down, lips pursed as he did so with a sharp look in his eyes that had not been there before. "Suppose I tell you this right now, what exactly are you gonna go off and do? Because no one is in that big of a rush unless they're about to do something."
"That is no concern of yours-"
"I didn't say I was concerned, I meant your Master." The interruption was made with a roll of the eyes and a careless wave of the hand. "Because in any other situation, I would have just told you to go for it and anything else that happened was your own fault. Can't really afford to do that now, so I need a bit of warning in case the walls are gonna come falling down around us because you ran your mouth at-"
She stepped closer, his seated position gave her the advantage of height as she loomed over them. "My reasons are my own and if you do not tell me, I shall find the information out for myself. So I shall ask you one further time before I discover it with my own power. Where is King Arthur?"
A long sigh was the response, the man rolled his eyes at her and then pushed out of the chair, rising slightly above her as he did so but little else. The two of them locked gazes as he smacked his lips a few times, blinking a couple more, and then rubbing his eyes with his hand before he frowned at her. "My question remains the same here, pal. If I tell you, are you going to go around starting shit where none needs starting? Because there are a couple of rumours I overheard about you and a certain Berserker. So, either you tell me what you're going to do or I go off and let our Masters know and they can deal with it instead."
"My…business with S-" She cut herself off, she did not feel as though he deserved the title. "My business with Lancelot is for me and me alone to concern myself with. As for King Arthur, you may rest assured that I have no intention of standing before them to request a duel or invoke violence between the two of us. It is a matter of importance to me that I speak with them and nothing else."
Cu Chulainn maintained his gaze for a moment longer, then let out another grunt as he turned and lowered himself back into his stool. Clasping the handle of his tankard and moving to closer. She growled at him and turned around, making for the door as she did so-
"One floor up. That's the extent of my knowledge on the matter." She paused at the voice from behind her, turning her head slightly to allow the Caster to come into her field of vision, the man spoke in an exasperated tone of voice. "You better not start any shit here, pal. Because otherwise I'm gonna feel pretty annoyed about all of it."
Her lips thinned and she nodded once. "You have my word that I shall not repeat the actions of Lancelot with King Arthur."
She continued on walking before they could reply, the information she received from them was more than enough for her at the moment. With news of King Arthur's arrival, she was sure that Gareth would be in high spirits. Until then, she had a promise to uphold. If only to herself if no one else.
It was surprisingly easy to come across the room where King Arthur had made theirs, or had been assigned, whichever of the two came first but it was hardly important, standing before it filled her with a sense of apprehension. Ironically, it had been easier to march into the simulator and draw her sword of Lancelot than to come here and face them herself.
Still, she remembered King Arthur from that festival in Rome from some time ago, they seemed of the honourable sort so she was certain they would hear her out and respond to her request to the best of their ability. It would be strange if they did not do so, or perhaps already had plans to do so if they were aware of Lancelot's being here. That was the only conclusion she could come to.
Reaching out, her knuckles wrapped against the front of the door with several heavy bangs before she drew the arm back and waited. Folding them behind her back as she did so and staring at the door.
…Seconds ticked by.
Her brows gradually furrowed as the seconds turned into a minute with no sign of anything happening. She brought her hand up and tapped on the front of the door again. She knew for a fact they were inside the room, she could sense them within. Yet they made no effort to answer the door which was a touch bewildering to her.
Still nothing from the door, she was beginning to debate whether she should just forgo everything and open it up. Though she didn't want to interrupt whatever they were doing, she just considered this to be more important. Wetting her lips, she brought her hand up for a third time and made to repeat the gesture, only to pause at the hiss that came from beneath her feet, the door slid open and revealed the form of King Arthur in front of her.
She blinked, looking down at the figure and pulling her lips into a frown for a touch of a second before they widened. The sensation that flooded her was something else entirely, the blackened texture of their clothes and the very air around them, they had been touched by something dark. She stepped backwards, throwing her body into a ready stance and awaited the next actions with silence, not quite drawing her sword but being ready to do so at a moments notice-
"What manner of fool knocks on my door and then makes ready to attack the moment it is answered?"
The insult shook her from her trance as she turned her eyes to the woman, her brows furrowed a touch more as she took in the features. They bore the same resemblance as the King Arthur she recalled meeting but there was something wrong, the expression was bereft of any sort of emotion and it was the eyes which struck her the most. They were a dull yellow, pale much like the skin and hair of the Servant.
This…
"You are not King Arthur-"
"Fool." She was silenced immediately but the tone of voice that had her clamp her jaw shut, the presence of the words was as though it commanded her very nature. The eyes narrowed dangerously. "You come here expecting King Arthur and it is them you have discovered. What business have you with me? For I have no recollection of ever meeting with or seeing you before in any previous summon."
She watched them for a moment, then spoke slowly. "You…have memories of previous summons?"
"Vaguely." Arthur replied with a single grunt, the pale yellow eyes did not waver from her face, nor did they look at her with anything less than clear dismissal. Lacking the touch of warmth they had when she last recalled meeting with her. "Though if you can ask such a foolish question, then you must be aware of other versions of me. I am indeed King Arthur, whether this version meets your expectations is no concern of mine."
More silence, then they grunted and waved a hand to her. "Now, speak quickly or depart. I have little patience to entertain loiterers."
The words dragged her focus back to her, she straightened herself out and put to rest the brief confusion as to the change that had occurred. Perhaps a slight difference in summoning or whatever had been done to her to bring about this form. Cu had alluded to something happening during his own conflict but she had not thought anything of it at the time.
"I am Ser Verndari of Drangleic. I am here to speak with you on a matter of importance and to make a request to you."
King Arthur didn't so much as blink.
"Are you aware that Sir Gareth and…Lancelot are currently within Chaldea at this very moment?"
A brief pause, then a small moment before Arthur gradually brought her arms up and folded them over her chest. Her eyes briefly flickered with interest before they returned to the same dispassionate stare. "Hoh? So that was the identity of those Servants. I sensed others from the Round Table were present, yet I was not aware of the identities. So then? What is this request you have of me?"
"...It pertains to Lancelot."
"Sir Lancelot." Arthur corrected as though it was little more than a reflex, though she fought back her noise of discomfort when they made the correction. She supposed they were technically still a Knight, regardless of whether she believed they were worthy of the position. "Do not let your dislike of them so quickly colour your judgement. Shall I suppose then, that this relates to Sir Gareth and their history? Given your show of respect to them?"
King Arthur was indeed rather sharp. "I shall not deny it. Through my own research into the matter, I have found that following his actions, Sir Lancelot did not receive any official punishment nor call for punishment from the crown. Rather, his exile was self-imposed and you forbade any efforts to track him down and bring him to justice for his actions."
"I am aware." Their response was almost insultingly bland, then their brows twitched for just a moment. "Did you come here to make some manner of demand of me? Or was it merely just to regale me with events I was present to witness."
"...I would ask why you allowed such a thing to occur in the first place." Verndari replied to them without waiting for much longer.
"I do not see a need to explain my actions to you." Arthur dismissed without even missing a beat, the difference between the end of her sentence and the beginning of theirs was virtually nonexistent. Verndari understood that, in principle, she had no right to the thoughts of King Arthur given the difference between the two of them. That was fair and true, yet that did not make it burn any less at the blatant non-answer she received. "My choice was made then and there. Something you should accept."
Her jaw clenched.
"...I would ask that you look back on this decision and rescind your inaction for this moment." She worded it carefully to avoid making it sound too much like a demand. Though Arthur merely responded with a touch of a raised eyebrow and little else, as though all of this was somehow beneath her concern. It bubbled her anger deep within her to consider, though she avoided letting it slip just yet. "Given the passage of time and the crimes he committed, as well as their impact, I would ask that you at least come forward and condemn his actions. With the benefit of hindsight, I would ask that you see what he wrought-"
"Why?"
The single word stopped her in her tracks, if only because it was delivered with so little emotion and so casually that she found herself struck by it.
Why? What did they mean why? It didn't make sense to her in the least. Surely they would have understood why she was asking for this, for the benefit of those who could at least see something regarding justice done. So that the crimes Lancelot committed were addressed by the King themselves, as opposed to just her.
Ah, perhaps they meant why was she doing this?
"I am a friend of Sir Gareth and-"
"I did not ask your relation to my knights." Arthur cut her off before she could finish. "I asked why you believe that my decision should be changed now? Especially at this point in time. It would seem a futile effort, given the nature that we all occupy."
She stood there, unable to speak. Words did not form in her mind as she maintained a silent stare towards Arthur. She wasn't quite sure she heard that right, and yet they had spoken so clearly that she could not have heard anything else. They had said such an outrageous thing to her with a straight face.
"...Are you truly asking me why I believe that you should publicly condemn Sir Lancelot's behaviour?" The question was posed to her in a slow manner, to make sure that Arthur absolutely understood what she was trying to say to her. "Because I believe that it should go without saying. Given the role he played in the deaths of Sir's Gareth, Gaheris and Agravain, I believe it would at least warrant something on behalf of them. Even if one were to set aside the fact he committed treason against your own Kingdom-"
Arthur scoffed loudly, "I do not need reminding of the crimes Lancelot committed. Least of all by someone with second hand knowledge. I am aware, I know what occurred and I maintain the same stance then as I do now. If you have an issue with that, then it is of your own doing. Do not involve me with your own disgruntled stance on whether justice was done or not."
Her hands clenched into fists. "This is not a matter of whether justice was done. It was not done. That can be no other stance to view from." a sharp intake of breath later, she lowered her voice. "Respectfully, King Arthur, I am asking if you intend to do anything with the knowledge that Sir Lancelot is here and now. If you intend to confront him on the nature of his actions."
A blank look.
"For what reason would I go out of my way to speak with Sir Lancelot now about such a thing?" They looked as though they were inconvenienced by the mere thought of it. "The actions taken in life do not change with death. Even with the knowledge of what occurred in the aftermath. I have already made my judgement on Sir Lancelot. To decide here and now to change my decision on the matter would be an embarrassment and undermine my own strength. It was my ruling that Sir Lancelot be allowed to depart with no pursuit against him, along with Guinevere."
They paused for a moment and waved their hand. "Guinevere was sentenced to death per the laws of the land. Lancelot acted out of his own heart and saved her, this led to the deaths of the knights you speak of. Justice against them would be futile and take much needed resources from Camelot. Chasing them down would be both pointless and outside of my own interests."
"...He slept with your wife and murdered your knights."
Arthur raised a brow. "Should a wife be expected to maintain her affection for a husband who cannot love her as a woman? Our marriage was nothing more than a political symbol. It was my own nature as a woman that brought about her downfall and her seeking Lancelot out. Nothing more and nothing less."
Verndari steadied her breathing, it was as though she was trying to shoulder the blame for their own traitorous actions. Whether or not that was true was irrelevant. There was the cold hard evidence that Lancelot and Guinevere had committed adultery and that the same man had gone on to kill his sworn brothers and sisters of the Round Table in an act of fury brought about by his own sins. He was responsible for his folly, certainly not King Arthur.
Her jaw clenched behind her helm. "...Setting aside your marriage woes, my point remains. What sins did Gareth, Gaheris and Agravain perform to earn this cold dismissal of their loyalty? You cannot blame another for this act. It is the hands of Lancelot that were stained with the blood of those he was sworn to serve with, who he did serve with for many years." she pointed down to the ground as she did so, her voice rising in volume.
Arthur remained insultingly silent and looking utterly uncaring.
A scoff rippled from the back of her throat. "Is this the reward that loyalty to King Arthur grants you?" she pondered aloud, taking a step backwards and looking Arthur up and down, where before there might have been respect, now she felt only a sick disgust as she looked at them. "Sir Gareth held you in such high esteem, she spoke so highly of the King she served and the one she pledged her very life to…and your reaction to her murder - the murder of her brothers - by the man who you swore into your court, who bedded your wife…is to say nothing more on the matter and let him run free?"
The words felt like acid in her throat.
Arthur's eyes narrowed, taking a single step forwards and out of the room and into the hallway with her, though the height difference between the two was obvious, it felt as though she had grown tall enough to look her right in the eye. The next words were delivered with a slow intensity, the subtle hint of warning.
"Do you have some accusation to make against me, Knight of a foreign land?"
She took a deep breath. "The loyalty you are shown by your knights is undeserved if this is how you repay them. Where is the value in serving a King who will turn a blind eye to injustice because the moment suits them? Even if you did not agree, especially if you do not personally agree, the laws of the land were clear. They must remain clear so that all could see none were above them. You should have executed Lancelot yourself. If not for the adultery…then for the sake of the Knights he slew."
She made a half turn. "But if you are incapable of even that basic level of respect to those who swore themselves to your banner…Then you are no King worth serving. A tyrant and little else." she started walking away from them, the budding words in the back of her throat echoed through the halls. "A King who knows not the hearts of those who serve them."
Barely a few steps later, she felt a pressure wash over her, causing her to miss a stride and stumble. It was barely a second after that, something tight gripped the back of her armour and dragged her backwards, whipping around and being thrown backwards, something bent behind her but that meant nothing to the glare now aimed into her eyes, the pale yellow orbs aimed solely through the helmet.
Arthur let her have not even a moment to catch her breath. "Do you believe you are granted either the power or authority to lay judgement upon my actions? That you and you alone are somehow important enough to dictate who is and is not worth serving?"
She opened her mouth to reply, perhaps somehow sensing that, Arthur forced her further into the wall with a tight grip against her collar, she heard the groaning of metal between the fingers of the King as they silenced her with the single gesture.
"Understand this single fact." Their eyes narrowed. "You are not worthy of that. You are a guard who served in the court of a King with, I would wager, barely an amateur's understanding of politics or the difficulties of having one serve beneath them. Perhaps I should have slain Lancelot where he stood the moment the affair came to light. I did not. It is not for you to question that decision after the fact when you were not there in the moment."
They shook her once more, dragging her closer to them. "Suppose I did as you asked and went to Lancelot now. What good would my condemnation of his actions do? We are Servants and, by nature, any justice I would doll out would be worth less than nothing."
Arthur's eyes narrowed into slits, a deep fog started to roll from her body, physically pressing her further down, robbing the air from her lungs.
"There are no courts to recognise my ruling, there are no punishments to inflict upon him and there is nothing it could do to prevent the fall of Camelot. It would serve nothing more than to satisfy my own personal ego for the brief window in which I walk this earth."
The dark Servant growled, the collar was crushed further. "And when that time came to an end, I would forget it was ever an event to begin with. For both Lancelot and myself, it would be an utterly futile endeavour."
With a sharp movement, they dragged their fingers back, the support collapsed and Verndari slid down the wall with a grinding sound, still unable to breath as she stared up at them, cold eyes glaring down at her, as though daring her to try anything. To her shame, she remained silent and still.
"Has Sir Gareth, at any point, indicated that she bears a grudge towards Sir Lancelot or that she seeks out vengeance?"
"..."
"...Pathetic." Arthur scoffed loudly. "You make a claim of friendship and yet act against her own wishes? For what purpose would this serve now? Nothing more than your own quest for satisfaction. There is no justice to be had, merely the right to boast loudly that Lancelot has at last been punished for his crimes in a move that will only be remembered for mere months at best. It is a pitiful show of justice and speaks loudly of your own character. What you seek is vengeance for an action centuries old and justice dealt out to a ghost. Nothing more."
They turned around, marching for the door to their room. "Do not bother me again with such petty demands again. Nor should you insult the judgement of those who pledge their swords to me, or believe that I ever considered them as nothing. All on the Round Table were equal to me. Regardless of their origin." they paused, then shot a look over their shoulder. "Pursue this matter on your own, but do not pretend as though you do anything less than enforcing your own shallow beliefs on another. This act of self-righteousness will benefit none but yourself."
Her lip wavered, she was on her feet before the King could leave.
"It's not right!"
Silence, only the sound of her shout echoing through the walls.
Arthur stopped walking.
"She trusted him! She trusted him so implicitly and he just crushed her skull like it was nothing! He just kills her on the spot, he trained her to be a knight, he trained her to be a member of the Round Table and he just killed her! No matter how you look at that, he is in the wrong in every sense of the word! You cannot just let that go unanswered!"
It just wasn't right.
It wasn't fair.
"She won't hold it against him because of how much she owes him, because of everything he did for her. She can look past his sins and let the matter rest but that doesn't make it any less of an evil! A crime is not absolved because the victim does not hold their murderer with any ill will! That's not how it works. That's not how it should work. You, especially you, have to see just how wrong it is…it's not fair! Why does Gareth have to be murdered in such a brutal manner while her killer walks free? Why does Lancelot live while she and so many others die?"
She was breathing deeply now, taking a step forwards and growling.
"You cannot just turn away from this. Maybe it's worthless but justice isn't about shouting it to the skies. It's not about whether anyone will remember it down the line. It's about doing it in the moment because it is the right thing to do. It's about making a stand even if everyone else believes it's wrong…if you, in your heart, believe that what Lancelot did is unworthy of punishment…then you are evil."
Arthur slowly turned around to face her, expression still devoid of feeling.
"Believe what you will. It shall change nothing in the end." They replied with the same uncaring tone of voice. "Perhaps you speak truth, the fate of Gareth is indeed unfair. However, what will fury do to correct this fate now? Shedding tears for the fates of those who met unjust ends will drown you long before you even reach an ounce of the total number. My point remains. Both Lancelot and Gareth are dead now, they have both met their ends."
"That isn't the point-"
"That is precisely the point. There are many who would decry that we suffer for our actions against them. As a knight, I doubt your own hands are devoid of blood. Did you go your entire life without spilling a single drop or slaying a single man whose death would bring grief to another? Did you at any point face the fury of those who demanded justice?"
…
That went without saying.
She was the final test to serve in the king's guard.
Those who failed were killed by her.
Dozens of loyal soldiers fell to her, but it was not the same. Not even close to being the same.
"I served my king loyally-"
"And Lancelot served his heart." Arthur scoffed, turning around once more and stepping into the room. "In those moments, we were all his enemies. My chance to punish his crime died with Camelot and myself. It's chance has been and gone. Nothing else needs saying."
The door closed immediately after, she stood in the halls, alone and in complete silence. Staring blankly at the door to King Arthur's room. She turned from them immediately and started to march away, uncaring as to where her feet would carry her. Just that she was moving as far away from that room as possible.
Her hands balled in tight fists.
Her jaw clenched tight enough that she could have cracked her own teeth.
A sound reached her ears, as though it was a flap of wings and the patter of tiny feet on the ground. She paused and looked over her shoulders, narrowing her eyes and finding nothing within her line of sight, nor could she sense anything.
With a shake of the head, she continued on her walk.
There was one place she could go.
It was mostly a blur for her, between entering the Simulator and turning it on, everything else passed her by like a series of images and emotions, little else.
Hacking, slashing and stomping on whatever opponent appeared before her.
Skeletons, wyverns, ghouls.
All of them were targets that just blurred together after what felt like such a long time, long enough that she was beginning to tire. Her shield and sword felt like weights in her arms, with each swing her movements became more clumsy, but she cared nothing for that.
At some point, she lost her shield, or she dropped it. She couldn't really remember which and she was just swinging around with her hands. The crunch of bone, the splatter of false blood and her own pounding heart in her ears was all that she could hear. Propelled only by her own feelings.
It wasn't like she was wrong.
There was nothing wrong with her stance.
It was King Arthur that was in the wrong, surely.
Everything she knew pointed towards Lancelot deserving punishment, it all aimed itself towards him being the one who was in the wrong and had evaded the justice his victims were rightfully owed. She had thought that of all the people wronged, surely King Arthur would have understood but instead she was treated to the words of a cold tyrant, nothing more.
Justice was never about achievement or for the rights.
It didn't lose its value because it was ephemeral.
Justice was about right and wrong, even a blind man could tell that what Lancelot had done was wrong. He had killed those whom he had befriended, betrayed the trust of all those he had served with and sworn his loyalty to.
He had done all of that and at the end, he had forced his own punishment on himself through exile.
It wasn't right.
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't justice.
She couldn't be the only one who understood that it was for the principle of the matter, it was so that the people could understand that there was justice. That there was order, that those who committed wrongs would not escape. That there was something they could rely on to protect them, to keep them safe if nothing else. If it had been anyone beside Lancelot, she did not believe they would have approached them with the same level of apathy.
That made it worse, as though relation to the King would spare you from the consequences of your own actions.
How could anyone work with a figure who would practise such actions?
How?
How could they even think to dismiss her demands in such a cold way…Gareth cared too much for Lancelot because she owed him too much. She wasn't Gareth and she owed Lancelot nothing. She could see his faults for what they were and she could see the injustice clear as day. There was nothing else that could be said. Lancelot murdered his closest friends and allies, he betrayed not just King Arthur but all of Camelot and then he escaped his due punishment with Queen Guinevere.
A loveless marriage?
What manner of ill conceived excuse was that?
She had stood by and watched as a marriage born of one-sided love had ripped the kingdom apart, how the only man who had seen the Queen for what she truly held in her heart was beaten and ousted from the very Kingdom he strove to protect.
Was this how justice was dealt in Camelot?
Was this the Kingdom that so many saw as great? Was that the King who deserved the title of King of Knights?
She knew in her heart that such actions, betraying those who you were sworn to, were utterly unforgivable. The same standard was held for her that she held for others. Yet when it truly counted, when it was truly the most important for her to make a stand and to speak up, she held her tongue like a coward. Ultimately, it was all her fault that-
Her head snapped backwards as something slammed into the front of it, a sharp gasp escaped from her as her sword slipped from between her fingers and thudded to the ground, two steps backwards and she turned her head to the attacker. Some manner of armoured soldier with a spear, the construct rushed forwards with another thrust.
She growled and stepped to the side, grabbing the shaft as it thrust past her and swinging her arm out, she caught the construct beneath the chin as she wrenched the spear from it's grasp. She flipped it around and roared at the top of her lungs, holding it in both hands like a club and swinging forwards into the face of the being.
A sound of splintering wood as they fell backwards, the spear having been shattered down the middle from where she struck them. It barely registered with her as she threw herself onto them with a snarl more consistent with an animal, utterly uncaring to how it looked as she just started punching.
There was no form.
No grace.
Just wild aggression.
Her fists rose and fell again and again, even when the construct vanished she just kept on punching, burying her knuckles in the false mud and continuing onwards. Her hands clasped over her head and she swung down, mud splattered along the front of her armour, now painted with grime and blood from the long battle.
She lay there on her knees, hunched over and with her hands in the centre of a wet puddle in the fake ground.
Only her heavy breathing could be heard.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"
The words repeated again and again, unsure of who she was even apologising for. She didn't know the names of everyone in the Kingdom, but she was the one who bore the blame for all those who perished from Nashandra's machinations.
She didn't act when she should have.
It was her fault.
It would always be her fault.
Nothing she ever did would fix that.
Nothing she ever forced out of Lancelot would change Gareth's death.
They were gone and they could never be fixed.
Her hands splayed out in the mud, digging in and clawing tight, dragging grooves into it as she did so. Panting deeply all the while she whispered apologies.
A sound reached her ears.
Her head snapped up and towards the direction of the noise.
Applause.
Sitting on a small rock was a woman wearing a dark cloak, hood drawn up and features hidden from view, though not so hidden that she could not see the black painted lips pulled into a clearly amused grin as they brought their hands up and down, continuing to clap as though they had seen something amusing.
Her first instinct was to freeze up at being seen in this state, the next thought was to rapidly rise to her feet and whirl on the individual who had entered without her knowledge, the growl in the back of her throat was unable to give way to words before the woman spoke up.
"That was a rather impressive display of brutality, certainly one of endurance as well." Her words felt mocking, as though she was telling a joke. The mirth in her voice was apparent at any rate. "Swinging a sword here for well over an hour without taking a break? I doubt this exhaustion of yours is anything other than mental…I would say that there is something that burdens your mind."
The woman brought a hand to her chin, pinching it between her fingers and tilting it to the side. "Now what is it that would usually trouble a knight such as yourself? Especially to bring you to such a state that you would fall to your hands and knees like that…it does seem to be a touch beyond what you would usually go for, does it not?"
"Leave." Verndari croaked as loud as she could, hands clenching tight to the point she could hear her armour creak in protest.
The woman released a single huff of amusement. "So soon? But I came all the way down here because I was worried about you."
She felt a great wave of unease and disgust wash through her at those words, she knew who this was and the mere thought of having this one's attention upon her was more than enough for her to be on alert. Chaldea had already felt the ramifications of this fool's concerns and she felt as though she could certainly do without those.
Velka sighed for a moment, dropping her hands onto her lap and leaning her head forwards. "You make your dislike of me all to clear. What is the point of wearing a helmet if you're going to make everything obvious in the first place? Oh well, some people are just easy to read I suppose."
"I do not need to listen to this." She made for the door.
"Was it not the way of Knights that they should pay proper respect for Monarchs? I am still a Queen, you know?"
"I do not believe in the Gods."
Another empty huff of air from the Goddess, shaking her head from side to side before she waved a hand. "I come to you with the intent of soothing your aching soul and you greet me with such cold words?"
Verndari scowled behind her helmet. "You should consider yourself lucky I did not greet you with cold steel. The thought is growing increasingly appealing."
Velka sucked in air, making a face as she did so all while her eyes gleamed with unhidden mirth, not at all affected by the very obvious threat made against her just now. "That was very nice, very witty. You should watch yourself around Gwynevere, she always did have an appreciation for those who had something of a dry wit."
She wasn't interested in this, with a grunt of dismissal she tuned the Goddess out as she made for the door. Only a few steps later, she was halted by the words of Velka yet again.
"I was privy to your conversation with King Arthur."
She whirled on Velka, snarling as she did so. "Are you so debased that you must eavesdrop on a conversation that-"
"That you were shouting about in the hallways where others live?" The Goddess cut her off, an unimpressed look on her face as she did so. "It is through my generosity alone that you did not have a dozen heads opening their doors to see what the fuss was about. A little appreciation would go a long way, you know? It's important to thank people when they do you a kindness out of the goodness of their heart."
Goodness?
Her lip curled down, her arms were brought up and folded themselves over her chest. "This goodness which has unleashed doom upon us and the same goodness which saw nearly a dozen of our own cut down? Chaldea has seen enough of your goodness to last a lifetime and if you have come to me with this same intention, then it is all the more prudent that I flee from you before I come to harm."
The Goddess thankfully fell silent, the amused expression on her face vanishing for the first time since they had started speaking. It was vindictive, but she enjoyed watching the grin disappear. Probably a bit too much but she was getting her amusement where she could find it in this situation, especially with her current feelings.
"If you came here to-"
"I came here because you're a hypocritical liar."
Verndari stilled, her eyes narrowed into slits. "...Excuse me?"
Velka tilted her head. "I thought the senses of knights were supposed to be honed through many battles? Surely you are not so hard of hearing that my comment flew like a bird well above your head?"
Her hand clenched into a fist, the weight of her sword fell into her grasp. "No. I needed to be absolutely certain you had indeed said what I thought you said. I would tread carefully, if I were you, it is dangerously close to insulting me."
The Goddess merely scoffed at her. "Is that what you're going to do? Swing at me because you disagree with my words?" with a click of her tongue, Velka looked away and raised her hands in a helpless gesture. "Honestly, I liked to think that someone such as yourself would be a little more skilled in the art of dialogue, especially given your own history with lying."
She took a single step towards Velka and growled "What did you just sa-"
"Must I spell it out for you?" The eyes of the Goddess bore into her for several short seconds, then her voice dropped down into a low whisper, yet it still bounced around within her helmet. "I'm talking about the sheath between your legs."
She froze. "...I don't know what you-"
"Yes you do." A disinterested flick of the hand and Velka was rising up from her seated position, sighing as she did so. "But I don't care all that much about it. Especially given that the Silver Knights had women within their own numbers so really, I consider your little Kingdom's customs to be a touch backwards in regard to who could and could not serve. But that is neither here nor there."
Her posture tightened, the thought of striking the Goddess down did briefly flicker through her mind before she crushed it down. Instead her shoulders trembled for a mere moment before they fell, she could not muster the energy to become enraged and attack the Goddess. She had already burned through all of that anger. "What are you here for?"
"Did I not make it obvious? I'm here for you." Velka replied, shrugging her shoulders as she did so. "But I suppose a good point to begin would be your role. Guardian of King Vendrick and the one who judged those who sought to become a member of the royal guard. Those who bested you were allowed entry and those who failed…" a coy smile pulled on the lips of the Goddess. "Well…they weren't granted the luxury of a second chance, were they?"
She stayed silent, it wasn't that she was ashamed, she was just confused as to what this had to do with anything.
"You killed all those who pledged their loyalty to the King, the very same King as you. I would say you made a career of doing that." Spreading her arms wide, the Goddess smiled at her in a way that was much too sharp. "One that I am certain you hold in quite high regard, as well you should. The secret proof that a woman was just as capable in the field of slaughter as a man. Even if it never came to light, that is neither here nor there. What is important though, is that you killed many, many dozens of loyal knights without so much as an ounce of hesitation."
Verndari waved her free hand. "What is the point of this? I already know my own role and what I was charged with doing-"
"You killed those people because you ultimately believed it was right. That your actions were right and that those who stood before you and failed…well, that was right as well, wasn't it?" Velka started to pace around her. "And the only reason that you yourself never faced any punishment is because this was mandated by King Vendrick. Though I'm certain the families of the fallen and their friends might be a bit less inclined to forgive you or King Vendrick for what befell the failures."
"Those who stood before me knew the risks-"
"Obviously." Velka scoffed loudly, shooting her a look. "You do not become a knight with the belief that you will see a ripe old age unless you are either arrogant or incredibly optimistic. All those who swear themselves to the sword are likely destined to meet their end upon it."
A moment of silence, then Velka clapped her hands together. "But let us not speak of this. Let us return to Sir Lancelot who, like you, killed those who were sworn to the same King as he was. He did so because the one he loved, the Lady Guinevere, was doomed to be executed and he believed that saving her was right and true. So he follows his heart and then the rest is history. Why is one unforgivable to you but the other is acceptable?"
Verndari blinked behind her helmet. She could not even be angry at such an absurd sentence. "Are…are you slow of mind? The two could not be further apart!"
A blink of surprise from Velka. "Really? In what way? Either the killing of one's fellow knights is an unforgivable sin or it's acceptable. There isn't much of an inbetween in the two."
"My actions were my duty! They were mandated by King Vendrick, by your own words-"
"And is the silent inaction of King Arthur not a mandate for Lancelot and Guinevere?" Velka cut her off with a raised eyebrow, turning to her and tilting her head. "If King Arthur made no move against Sir Lancelot then, whether or not she agrees with what has happened, she accepts it is something that has occurred and sees no need to punish them for it."
She glared hard at the woman, her grip on her sword so tight that she could hear it grinding between her fingers. "There is a…mountain of difference. My actions were sanctioned, ahead of time they were all known. The laws of the land were known. Sir Lancelot committed a wrong. He murdered his fellow knights in cold blood after it was exposed that he and the Queen had bedded one another. How can that not be considered a wrong?"
Velka tilted her head. "When did I say it wasn't?"
It was her turn to blink. "Wha-? But you just-"
"I said that there was little difference between the two in principle. Certainly, there was a change in circumstances but at the end of the day, the two of you were just killing your comrades for what you believed was right and correct at the same time. Perhaps Lancelot has the excuse of an emotionally induced haze of fury over the thought of his beloved being executed, but you were fully aware the entire time."
Velka fell silent, then sighed and waved her hands. "But this brings us back to the main topic. Your dislike of Lancelot is a lie. Or rather, the reasoning behind it is. King Arthur made their judgement on the matter in life and it was settled there. I'm sure there would be many families who would demand King Vendrick kill you, laws or not, for what you did to their beloved spouses, brothers and friends. The human heart is a touch irrational when it comes to loved ones."
The smile pulled itself up. "The least you might do is confess your true reasoning as to why you so deeply dislike Lancelot. It is nothing more than a case of disagreeing with what happened because you have grown to like Sir Gareth. Indeed, Lancelot committed a sin and he never faced what you would call justice for it but the King allowed their actions in all but decree, a silent admission of events. Regardless of the families involved, of which she was also a member."
Velka stepped closer to her, a minor height difference between the two of them as she looked down at the Goddess, who maintained her beatific smile. "At the end of the day, Ser Verndari. You're furious because the one who you think of as a friend was killed in such a terrible way, in such a way that you cannot find it acceptable, and that her killer escaped what you tout as justice…but speak of it as it is. Vengeance."
Her jaw clenched tight.
"The matter of treachery and the fall of Camelot…it is in the past now but there is one little thing that haunts you still. Which is the treachery that you believe must be answered for? That of Sir Lancelot…or your own?" The golden eyes bore into her own for a moment, then the Goddess stepped backwards and put distance between them once more. "But that is something that I cannot answer for you. You're free to come to me if you seek absolution but I doubt you would be content with a mere donation and a few choice nothings whispered to you…"
She turned her head down, staring at her feet and keeping her gaze locked there. All the while she heard the rippling chuckle of the Goddess start to fade away as they made for the door.
"As you were then, dear." Velka called back, she twitched at the name but kept silent. "If you do seek to forgive yourself for whatever it is that troubles you, then you can always seek me out for it. If not…well…I'm sure there is someone that you might be able to confess to."
The doors clamped shut, the words of Velka remained even after their speaker departed.
Verndari stood there in silence, the sword slipped from her fingers and dropped to the ground with a dull thud, a sound she barely even reacted to.
Her helm turned towards the direction of the crater not far from her, she stared at it in silence before her eyes fell back to her hands, bringing them up and turning them over to examine the splatters of mud and false blood across all of them. Her fingers clenched inwards for only a brief moment, then her arms dropped back to her side.
She didn't know why it was.
The thought of Gareth dying, the thought of her dying in that sordid way.
Being killed in such a foul way by one she trusted.
It struck a chord with her, she just couldn't agree with it.
But King Arthur made their choice already.
All she was left with…was nothing but her own feelings on the matter.
…What was she supposed to do with all of those anyway?
