Summary: One was the King of Franks, the other the former Black Dog of Faerie Britain. It was an odd pairing for a new Servant team, but things would work out. Most definitely.
…Hopefully.
Note: This was an idea I came up with on the trolley ride to work one day, encouraged by Carim/partialdignity. Because after getting Charlemagne in FGO NA proper, not to mention playing through all of Traum, my brain went places. Especially when thinking about the Tam Lin of this chapter, and how I had used Robin for every single boss battle with her.
And well. Considering how hellish Lostbelt 6 was to the bitter end, one of the Tam Lin/Faerie Knights definitely needs a good friend. So why not Charlemagne?
The theme for this chapter is the 1.5 Remix version of 358/2 Days' rendition of Dearly Beloved, straight from Kingdom Hearts. Because when talking about two knights who have been shadows of themselves, I felt this song fit.
Here we go!
Day 84: Paladin and Knight
"As repayment for you attending and watching over the end of Britain, I will wield my sword for you until my life ends."
Those were the words Barghest said when coming back to life as a Servant, just after a poison arrow, two grand swords, and an honorable shield had put her out of her misery in the flaming hell that was left of Manchester. In an ideal world, Barghest wanted the citizens within her domain to be happy. It was the duty of a knight to defend those who couldn't do the same for themselves, but those… those so-called "citizens" were just a mockery. Of her dream, of her ideals, of the Knights of the Round Table. Learning the wrong thing from her mistake — killing and eating Adonis after wanting to love him — and then gloating with "This is so much fun" after slaughtering and then eating their human neighbors…
It was no wonder High Queen Morgan had given up on the people. Especially when they couldn't be called people anymore.
It was no surprise to find a version of said Queen supporting Chaldea either, even after shedding her Tonelico disguise with Faerie Britain's end. Because if Proper Human History could look like a saint's ground with the number of possibilities for the future compared to Faerie Britain's stagnation, Queen Morgan would've probably taken anything over the faeries who continuously condemned her.
Not that it made being part of the end of said faeries any less difficult to bear. Because they were still a part of home, no matter how doomed it was. Yet here Barghest was, having been reborn as just another Servant in Chaldea — Novum Chaldea, the Throne of Heroes cautioned her from its place amongst the stars — and now serving the "weak" Proper Human History with the guidance of the girl who helped bring her previous life to an end.
And said girl — Vy, her heart whispered in a warmer tone, not unlike how it did for Adonis and everyone else she loved — had, for today of all days, decided to pair her with…
"Yo!"
Right. Charlemagne. King of the Franks, leader of the Twelve Paladins.
Sometimes, Barghest wondered what made him so great. Even before his righteous self-introduction to the Saber team (something along the lines of, "hey, let's get along and be cool!", whatever that meant), there was something about his carefree attitude that honestly threw Barghest off. He wasn't like Arturia Pendragon — Queen Morgan's sister in Proper Human History, King Arthur, and the Grailed Saber out of Vy's large Servant roster — in her stern demeanor, nor was he like Tristan, Lancelot, Gareth, or even her Proper Human History namesake, the original Gawain.
Charlemagne was brash, cheerful almost to a fault, and—
"—Hey, Barghest! Baaaarghest!"
Ah. That's right. He was currently waving his hand in front of her face.
Barghest blinked and ignored the urge to push the shorter man away because yes, he was a fellow Heroic Spirit; yes, he was a monarch in his own right like Queen Morgan and King Arturia herself; and yes, Vy had a fondness for him, but…
Did he have to be so… chaotic? Was that how he was supposed to be? Or how he always was, even in life?
Nonetheless, as a knight, she had to respond, and the least she could muster was a passively worded reply of, "What is it, King Charlemagne?"
"Gah, you're doing it again!" Charlemagne puffs as soon as Barghest's eyes focus on the outside world of the simulator, the nearby tree shade making his own facial shadows stand out as he shakes his head. "I get that you want to be a knight, Barghest, but you don't have to keep calling me 'King'! For me," he bumps a hand against his chest, "the adventurer me, 'Charlie' is just fine!"
Barghest knows that. She consciously does, but the instinctual defiant edge in her voice still comes out through her words when she follows up with, "But you are still a liege, Charlemagne. A leader." It takes a modicum of self-control to withhold the "King" title for him out of respect for his wishes. "Even if we are on the same side working for the same Master, you are still a King just as much as Her Majesty, Queen Morgan."
Despite how odd it is to see how… gentle said Queen is when it comes to their Master. Barghest could have sworn that Baobhan Sith was the only faerie to strike Morgan's kind side, yet from her brief observations since coming back to life, the former Winter Queen seemed to have grown a particularly soft spot just for Vy. From the treehouse that populated one of Novum Chaldea's break rooms, the ever-growing tolerance she gave to the Saber version of her sister, to even the daily fatigue relief spells that were cast on Vy herself in the early mornings — the Chaldean version of Queen Morgan obviously loved their little Master.
Just as much as Charlemagne did, considering how he was still frowning at her with the mere mention of Vy's formal name. His arms folded across his middle as he went on with, "Our Princess would still say otherwise, Barghest."
Barghest rolled her eyes. "I'm well aware of that."
"So whyyyyyy?"
Ugh, he just had to be infuriating even when bringing Vy into the conversation, didn't he? It was no wonder someone with no reason like Astolfo could call him "King." So Barghest crossed her own arms over her chest plate, shaking her head. "I still wish to be an ideal knight, even after the fall of Britain, Charlemagne. Knowing my place amongst the weak and strong is the least I can do."
"Ideal knight, huh? That's new." The last thing Barghest expected was for Charlemagne to give her a look. "…Does that mean," he suddenly says in a lower voice, "you see Master as weak?"
Where is he going with this? Despite her internal misgivings, Barghest instinctively nodded her head. "She's not a faerie or a Calamity like me. She's not an adventurer like you either, Charlemagne." After all, a strong Master wouldn't have let her eat their Command Seals or a fraction of their life force in Faerie Britain, unprecedented threat or not. "So long as she is still human, she is weak."
The last thing Barghest expected then was for Charlemagne to reach out and lightly punch one gauntlet of her armor. It didn't help that he specifically seemed to aim for the one metal plate that protected the bicep of her dominant sword arm. "…If you really think that way," he said in the same low voice, tone promising something else to match his blue eyes suddenly flashing red, "then it's no wonder a self-proclaimed rogue like Robin beat you. And that's coming from a me who's always been unfit to be a King."
Barghest felt her jaw unhinge itself from the shock, but before she could act on it, Charlemagne was turning away from her, just as another voice echoed from deep within the simulator.
"Charlie~! Barghest~! Where are you? We're in the last stretch of the simulator and it's time to go to the next run!"
"We're coming, Princess!" Charlemagne suddenly calls back in his lighter voice, and it takes Barghest a second too long to realize the King of Franks has grabbed her hand to pull her along with him. "Be right there!"
With nothing else to do but to stumble after him, Barghest felt the befuddlement flood her even past the warmth of mana that connected her to her new life. Because the hand that squeezed hers past her armor —
Even if it wasn't Adonis, the strength Charlemagne possessed could've — no, would've — possibly put the original Queen Morgan herself to shame.
A few explosions later, Charlemagne lands neatly on both feet amongst digital rubble with an extra-flashy swish of his cape. "How was that, Princess?!" Charlemagne twirls his sword by the hilt, grinning at their shared Master along the way. "Was I cool or what?"
Even with a bit of drool hanging from her lip at the sweet scent of Vy, Barghest discretely wipes it away before Master can see, instead opening her ears to wait for Vy's reply. After all, Barghest was a Servant now, not just the Black Dog of Faerie Britain's end. And if Charlemagne claimed Vy was more than weak—
Vy smiles from ear to ear, seemingly unaware of Barghest's thoughts (and for the better, honestly), clapping her hands together and jumping in place. "You were!" She hums happily, rocking back and forth on the boots of her Decisive Battle uniform, apparently not noticing Robin and Skadi's fond gazes directed into the back of her head as she looks just at Charlemagne. "You were really really cool with your Noble Phantasm, Charlie!"
"Really?! I was definitely cool?!" Charlemagne grins back, dispelling his sword to rub the back of his head. "You reeeeally think so?!"
"Aye aye, sir! You were awesome!"
Perhaps it was how high-pitched Vy had gone in that moment. Or the impression she made of a flying blue cat with her tiny salute. (Her ponytail would have certainly resembled a cat's tail with how it weaved itself behind her back.) Or maybe it was just the extra warmth in the air when she had added on the extra praise. But nonetheless, Barghest blinked as Charlemagne started turning pink in the face, a sheepish chuckle leaving his lips as he lowered his hand to scratch at his cheek. "…Geez, if you heap it on so honestly like that, Princess, it'll get embarrassing—!"
Barghest doesn't get much time to react before Charlemagne is falling.
(Because really — when did a ruler fall?)
Vy yelps (something along the lines of a FWAAAH) once the Saber seems to exaggeratedly lean against her, both arms immediately extended to catch him before he hits the ground. Robin sighs above her head once the duo collide with one another, right before Vy does her best to lift the slumping Saber up and say in a softer voice, "…Charlie?"
"Maaaaaan, Princess!" Charlemagne bemoans loudly, voice barely muffled by his mouth being pressed into her shoulder. "You're so cool and cute, I've half a mind to be jealous of Robin taking your hand first!"
(It sounded cheerful enough. Yet Barghest knew from a single cursory glance that the flash of red iris she saw from Charlemagne mid-fall made it clear he wasn't entirely joking either.)
(What was that flash of red?)
Vy still squeaks, cheeks flushing a bright pink to put Charlemagne's earlier blush to shame. If Barghest didn't know any better, the young woman could've easily passed for a spooked cat with how wide her eyes grew behind her glasses. Or, no, not a cat. Perhaps a "mouse" would be a better analogy, considering her high-pitched voice. Not that Barghest would ever point that out aloud. "Eh? Fweh? Um — j-j-jealous?"
"Oi," Robin interjects pointedly in that moment, making his presence clear by gently placing a palm on top of Vy's head — right where Charlemagne could get a clear view of the silver band sitting on his ring finger. "She's my little sparrow and wife, Charlie." Robin pats Vy's head then, the glint in his eye clearly threatening despite how gentle the motion appears to be. More so with Vy blushing brighter underneath his palm. "So hands off."
"I knooooooow." Charlemagne still slumps against the reddening Vy, the armor on his arms dissipating to let him loosely hold the young woman's waist. "But as a Servant, I can at least hug our Master, riiiiight?"
Robin chuffs a noise caught between a cough and a sigh, leaning forward to press his chin into the back of his hand while being careful not to add extra weight to Vy's head. "Asshole," he mutters. "What's a guy to do when his lady's being courted…?"
"Robin, I don't think this is a courtroom…"
"That's sweet of you to say, but it's not what I meant, little sparrow."
"Um… I-I still don't mind the hugs, so…"
Skadi hums, just before Barghest can think of saying something. Even when clad in the one piece lounge dress from her Ruler Spirit Origin, the Grailed Caster seemed surprisingly content when looking at everything. Her voice was light enough to match once she went on with a sudden, "Then how about a game to pass the time, Archer, Charlemagne?"
Both men immediately look up from their impromptu staring contest over Vy's head. "What's the game?" They say in unison.
Vy immediately makes a tiny Meep noise.
Barghest was starting to get a bad feeling once Skadi turned to her with the same humming smile. "Tam Lin Gawain, you should join us too. The more the merrier."
"F-For what?" Vy squeaks for her five pieces of QP. "Skadi-san, what is this game for?"
In response, Skadi beamed. If Barghest didn't know any better, the former Lostbelt King could've made up her own sun with how bright she was smiling. "It is nothing bad, Vy. Something fun, if anything. All I ask is to please shut down the simulator and call Yan Qing over, dear child. This is just a game."
Barghest felt herself gulp before she knew she was doing it.
Eventually, words formed on the tip of her tongue. "We are to, um…" Barghest stared. "Guess which one is Master?"
Skadi merely nodded and twirled her wand, writing out Barghest's previous statement in sparkly purple mana handwriting above the heads of the spectacle. The plain white walls of Novum Chaldea's hallway between the simulator and the rest of the base made the announcement all the more blinding, considering what it was really for.
Because standing in front of them all were two Vys. Barghest instinctively knew one was the genuine article, the other was a transformed Yan Qing through his Doppelgänger Phantom Spirit powers, but after the Assassin had shown up in his original form at the original Vy's call (simulator shutdown included), Skadi had escorted the duo elsewhere, only to come back with this game. Two Vys and all.
And with both figures having the same lotus ribbon hair clip, height, and general appearance (even down to the minute scent), Barghest couldn't help but be befuddled.
What was the whole point of this "game"? Just to prove who knew Master best?
Was this what the supposed "weak" got up to in their free time? Was that it?
"I naturally know which one is my child," Skadi huffed, not making Barghest feel any better. Perhaps it would've been an easier endeavor trying to convince Vy not to power down the simulator before this whole mess happened, because the look on Skadi's face proved she wouldn't budge on her opinion. "So with that in mind, do not think of asking me for the right answer. I already know and will not allow any cheating."
"Besides! We could've easily switched places!" One Vy chimes in cheerfully while wearing the Chaldean Standard uniform, placing a finger to her lips.
"Or we just changed clothes." The other Vy says in a more demure manner, pressing her fingers together and fidgeting with the sleeves of her Mages Association uniform. "So, um. Who wants to try their luck?"
…This isn't about trying my "luck." Isn't this whole endeavor impossible?
Charlemagne then looks at Barghest from his place standing next to Robin, a positively shit-eating grin on his face and all, and the Tam Lin feels herself start to sweat. With nothing else to do, she stares at the Chaldean Standard Vy, then unconsciously acts on the instinct to walk towards the Mages Association Vy, taking the girl's left hand and squishing it between her larger ones. Even with all three Command Seals intact and glowing from her knuckles, her hand was still small.
Even with more than 300 Servants protecting her, this Vy's fingers still felt fragile.
"I…"
Both Vys stare at her, blinking slowly. The others weren't saying a word.
"I…" Barghest inhaled the air, taking in the combined scents of the duo before slowly shaking her head. She had to move. She had to get away. This wasn't Adonis. This wasn't any of her previous loves either. This was just— "No. I cannot beat around the bush because in the end, I have to admit that I'm troubled. Due to my status as a newer Chaldean Servant, I have no idea which Master is the real one."
Despite admitting defeat, she took the smallest bit of glee from hearing Charlemagne suddenly trip over himself from an interrupted gloat, a loud "WHY?!" punching through the air as Barghest took the hit. The extra "DON'T GIVE UP!" a second later didn't really sound encouraging coming from Charlemagne, though.
The hand in hers nonetheless stilled, and the Mages Association Vy blinked up at her. Huh? "…You don't have to give up just yet, Barghest," the young woman said in the same demure voice, shaking her head. What? "We can give you a hint if you'd like."
What? What did she just say? A hint?
Is she… is she pitying me?
"It's not that hard!" The other Vy interjects then, breaking up Barghest's new train of thought with her voice. She sounds bright and cheery even when waving both her hands in the air to get Barghest's attention. "Look a little closer!"
"How would—?"
"…Oi. Lasses. Don't be so nice. It takes a trained eye that even warriors would need a second to think about when it comes to small differences," A new, gruffer voice then interrupts, and Barghest's gaze is torn away from the Mages Association Vy once she sees a wooden druid staff emerge out of the corner of her eye. Skadi hisses, but the new arrival in Cu Chulainn Caster — Grímr, her memories call out — merely shrugs it off, giving a casual wave to Robin (which the Archer returns with a nod) when walking into the room. "I'm just amazed you agreed to what the lady had to ask for."
"T-To be fair, Skadi-san said this would help with bonding—!" The Mages Association Vy is then suddenly cut off by Skadi promptly casting a spell on her coat ribbon, the cloth levitating itself into the air to gently cover her mouth. "Mmph." She went on to say with no other preamble. "Mugu."
"Yeaaaaah, I saw that coming a mile away," Cu finished for her. "So no spoilers."
"ANYWAY! This is still fun!" The Chaldean Standard Vy fills in for her counterpart, jumping up a few times in the air while looking at Barghest with a bigger smile. Why was she doing that? "So c'mon, Barghest! Try your luck at guessing! Unless—" The not-muffled Vy then goes on to look past Barghest's shoulder, and Barghest doesn't miss how Charlemagne reorients himself to match Robin standing up to attention. "The guys wanna try~?"
"Ooh, maybe me—!"
Robin suddenly takes the moment to sigh while smacking the back of Charlemagne's shoulder, interrupting the Saber's reply with something along the lines of "What is the world coming to…?" — much to Cu Chulainn's stifled laughter, it seemed. Still, Barghest could do nothing but let go of the hand she was holding in favor of stepping back.
Considering who was stepping up was the man who truly killed her back in Britain.
The unofficial "leader" and Archer of the Grailed merely walked around the stumbling Charlemagne, the chuckling druid version of Ireland's Child of Light, and even his fellow Grailed Caster in Skadi before taking Barghest's previous position of standing in front of the two Vys. His head swivels between them a single time before his gaze is fixed on the Mages Association Vy, and without any visible hesitation, his hand reaches out for her.
The Mages Association Vy actually blushes as soon as his fingers gently brush her cheek in its path to remove the ribbon covering her mouth, instead having it open in a small "o" once he gets the cloth off. Then Robin's hand goes up to her hairline, brushing some stray hairs away from her forehead before going down to her chin, closing her mouth and stroking the outline of her exposed lips. Seeing it all play out right then and there, from Barghest's place as an onlooker — it all looked like he knew.
No. Without anything else, not even a hint, she could see that he truly knew.
Far more than me…
Barghest then felt more than tasted the raw sensation of all the saliva drying out from the back of her throat once she heard Robin say in a softer voice, "…This one." His thumb traces the outline of Vy's lips again — once, twice, thrice — before longingly resting against her cheekbone, his palm cupping her face with so much care Barghest could never recall seeing from him before. Especially at the time of her previous death as the Black Dog. Robin's other arm even snakes around the back of Vy's waist, lovingly pulling her close to match his gentler conclusion of, "This one is my little sparrow."
In response, the Mages Association Vy flushes red.
Barghest can barely hear how Charlemagne whistles in the background (a "wolf-whistle", Proper Human History apparently called it for short), instead only able to take in how there's a deeper cry of Awwwww from the other, not-picked Vy as the mana in the air shifts. Surprisingly, Yan Qing is quick to take the Chaldean Standard double's place once Skadi nods her head, his grin dull compared to the ferocity of Charlemagne and Cu Chulainn nearby as he rubs the back of his neck. "…Damn," he mutters, shooting Robin a look through hairs falling out of his long ponytail, "What gave me away?"
"You were playing up the energy too much, Yan Qing," Robin quipped, apparently not minding Barghest's growing shock as he took the moment to pull the real Vy into his chest, bundling her up and hugging her tight as if not to let go. "After a farming mission, our little sparrow has a habit of getting tired and more sensitive to everything. And once she tried offering a hint to Barghest, it just confirmed my suspicions." Resting his chin atop Vy's hair, he let out another sigh. "Besides, if I could be fooled by an illusion of my wife, what kind of husband would I be?"
"O-Oh…" is all their Princess says at first. Those tiny, tiny hands of Vy's merely clutched at the collar of the No Face May King, knuckles turning white to contrast her reddening face as she ducks her head. Her reply is muffled against the Noble Phantasm once she says, "I-I really can't win against you, huh, Big Robin…?"
There is a slightly pointed smeck noise as Robin leans down and presses his lips to Vy's temple. "Why are you trying to win, little sparrow? I'd be more than happy if you let me hold you for now as a prize."
"Muuuuu… I can't say no to that…"
Without thinking, Barghest felt herself step back. She could see how Vy, Robin, and Charlemagne all turned to look at her thanks to the loud clanking of her armor, their eyes widening in almost unison, but the excuse fell out of her mouth like it was normal. Like she was back in Britain, handling a domain again. Handling Manchester again. "…In that case, please excuse me, everyone. There's no need for a second round of the game when I know how I am."
"Barghest…?"
…No. No more.
Through it all, Barghest turned away.
From her fellow Servants, from the game, from Master, who oh-so-sweetly called her True Name — all to walk away.
She didn't have to keep playing, anyways. She didn't need to.
After all, she wasn't human enough to join any of them.
Especially not when the man who killed her before had proved (once more) he was far stronger than she could ever be.
"Did that guessing game really get to you?"
Damn Charlemagne. He wasn't one to give up, and considering how he had just shoved his foot into the door threshold Barghest was about to close, he certainly wasn't going to start now.
It was why Barghest exposed her teeth in a wordless growl, glaring at him with as much irritation she could muster. "…What does it matter to you, King Charlemagne?" Her gums feel dry even to the insides of her lips as she bares her fangs, concentrated anger filling her voice to compensate. "You already proved that I'm not as strong as the man who defeated me twice over in Faerie Britain, whether it's in strength or knowledge of our shared Master. What else do you mean to say to me when I've already been defeated?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold the phone, hold it right now — you're getting it all wrong. And that's not cool." Charlemagne still somehow shoved his way past her door (was it from his Strength Stat? Or something else? His resolve?) and her armor, taking her nearest chair to sit himself down and fold his fingers under his chin. Despite her continued glare at him, he looks as "cool" as a cucumber underneath it all, or so Proper Human History would coin it. "Sure, I might've given Skadi the idea of the 'Guess which one is Master' game to show you what the 'weak' get up to, but that wasn't the only reason." His elbows hit the banister backs of the chair no thanks to how he folded himself around the whole thing, cushion and all, blue eyes gleaming with something Barghest couldn't read. His expression even screams "lazy" despite the focused spark in his eyes as he said, "I can swear it."
"Then what was the other reason, considering you were rude enough to intrude on my quarters?" Barghest felt herself hiss in spite of her dwindling anger, staring into those blue eyes of his with growing contempt to match. "Unlike the Child of Prophecy, Lady Mash, or even our Princess of a Master, I do not have the energy to feed you."
"And I wasn't going to ask for food either," Charlemagne retorts dryly, and it takes too long for Barghest to realize his eyes are flashing red again. That infuriating shade of red. "Are you really so caught up in the past that you can't even realize why Vy tried giving you a hint earlier?"
Barghest bit the inside of her cheek. Once again, he was bringing Vy into this. "…It's because she felt pity for me, didn't she?" But she could guess that much, even if she didn't win that game. She was a Tam Lin who served someone like Queen Morgan for hundreds of years already. She could at least read eyes. And the look in Vy's eyes at the time implied what she said, even if it hurt to see it. "I had admitted defeat far too quickly, so she must have felt the need to—"
All of a sudden, Charlemagne rested his chest against the back of her chair and raised his hand to violently chop through their shared air. Almost like he would with his sword, only there was no enemy to kill. "Nah!" He said cheerfully.
"Nah?"
"Nah!" Charlemagne repeated in the same tone, punctuated with another air chop.
Barghest blinked. "What do you mean by 'nah'?!"
"Just what I said! Nah! To all that!" Charlemagne insisted, and a single blink revealed one red, one blue eye in his gaze as he met her stare. "Vy doesn't just do that kinda thing out of pity. If you got so close to the truth earlier in the guessing game, wouldn't you see the same thing now, Barghest?"
Barghest leveled another look at him as she slowly closed the door behind her. The quiet hiss of the airlock sealing itself didn't help the tension. She could've eaten it instead, considering the concentrated mana that was filtered from Novum Chaldea's generators. But there was no point. Not when Charlemagne was still there, sitting so recklessly right in front of her. "…I don't understand what you are trying to say, Saber. What are you getting at?"
"Just think about it, Saber," Charlemagne shot back, wagging one finger in the air at her. "When you held Vy's hand back then, you nearly made the right choice that Robin and I already did. So when you gave up after getting so close, Vy saw that." He then brought that same finger to his forehead with an uncharacteristically long sigh. "And since you fought her three times in Britain and with her since then, shouldn't it be obvious as to what our Princess was thinking?"
Barghest blinked again, and for a moment, the white walls of her personal room in Novum Chaldea were gone.
All she could see in return was red.
Red flames, burning rubble, propagating Mors, screaming faeries, and through it all — two human figures sheathed in almost all black thanks to the surrounding soot, accompanied by two shining white knights and one mythical man dressed in all Lincoln green.
The only one who directly addressed her before the battle was scuffed, white Mystic Code dirtied with dried blood and ashes, but—
"Tam Lin Gawain, in honor of your pride, your love for knighthood, and your dedication to your original wish, let us have this final fight."
She was truly the last flower of Britain outside of the noble Shielder and her chosen green Archer who fervently protected her.
And that flower had—
Her next blink revealed white walls and Charlemagne looking at her with two blue eyes again, and Barghest exhaled shakily. "She just…"
Charlemagne leveled her with a look.
"She just…" Barghest gulped, unconsciously reaching up with one hand to wipe at drool that just wasn't there, smearing at dirt and sweat sticking to her chin instead. "Vy just wanted to help me with a hint all because she wanted to?"
"…You finally got it." Charlemagne's smile at her answer could have — no, possibly would have — resembled Adonis for the smallest of seconds before the image faded along with the memory, leaving a reckless adventurer's grin behind as he chuckled. "It's as simple as that. 'Wanting to help.' And a 'weak' Master can be more than her Magic Circuits, Barghest. Just like how there's more than one kind of 'knight.'" He laughs a bit louder, shoulders shaking with his mirth. "And considering she recruited a shadow of an adventurer like me," he points a thumb at himself then, "and a former Calamity like you," he then points at her with the same thumb, "Vy has her own power through all that weakness!"
Barghest felt her shoulders slump through her armor. The metal plating was already tight as is against her body, yet her chest felt heavier through it all, making her reply sound choked and concerned to her own ears as she ventured out with a softer, "...Was that it?"
Charlemagne merely turns the chair around so that he can rest his back against it in a proper sitting position. "Was what it?" He echoed back.
"You look like you have more to say," Barghest pointed out, crossing her arms to hide how tight her chest felt. "Surely the great leader of Charlemagne's Twelve Paladins can do that much to match my Winter Queen?"
Yet to Barghest's surprise, the smile on the other Saber's face disappeared as quickly as it had originally arrived, the flash of emotion in Charlemagne's blue eyes serious and unforgiving as he shook his head. "...See here, there's no need for me to match anything. That Queen and I are two completely different people." He waves his hand in the air, brushing off some kind of imaginary weight hanging onto his shoulders before stretching his arms upwards. "I dunno about Morgan, but from what I can remember about leading others, there's a difference between helping from afar and truly knowing what it's like to be weak from the bottom down. And—" Charlemagne lowers his arms to cross them over his chest, sending nothing but another pointed look Barghest's way. "Vy has a better idea of what that's like than Charles the Great ever did."
Barghest felt herself bristle before her mind caught up with her instincts. Any such warmth from their previous conversation and game was gone. All that was left was her thoughts. And compared to the Calamity of the Black Dog, they felt suffocating.
He said "Charles the Great" — not his own name. What did that mean?
…No. It didn't matter.
None of it did.
"…The strong are supposed to protect the weak, while the weak should merely obey the strong. That is what I lived by, Charlemagne. That is—" she gulped, feeling her confidence ebb away once Charlemagne's eyes flash red again. "—It is what Queen Morgan taught me. So let me rephrase my original line of thought: are you trying to question my beliefs?"
"Let me ask you something in return, Tam Lin Gawain. How did that belief," Charlemagne points out with one raised index finger from his bicep, his folded arms merely tightening against his chest, "turn out for you two compared to our Princess?"
Barghest knew she had no answer, no matter how frustrating it was to admit that. Because Faerie Britain was still gone — forever denied by Proper Human History after the Abyssal Worm swallowed up everything. Her Queen Morgan, not the Tonelico that Vy had summoned — was still dead.
No matter what, Adonis too was still dead. Long dead, with no corpse or bones to bury.
All because she had eaten him. Without any hesitation.
All because it was her purpose to Faerie Britain. To destroy everything.
Charlemagne then scoffed, tearing Barghest out of her thoughts. When raising her head to look at him, amazingly, for just that moment, the crow's feet around his eyes made him look older than he actually was recorded as in the Throne of Heroes. "…Now look here. I'm still a new Heroic Spirit, just like you, Barghest. But from what I know as a Paladin, the weak don't always need protection. They don't always need to listen to the strong when they have their own strength to survive. Because if strength was all that mattered, then none of my shit-for-brains paladins would've died with me." He stands up then, all the way up to his full height, and the mantle that comes with his manifested full armor of his Second Ascension swishes behind his every step as he approaches her. Seeing him like that could've had Barghest forget his earlier verbal misstep. Could've, but not would've. "And when someone like Vy was able to summon me and you together, I'd say she's more than 'weak.' She's her own cute, innocent, oblivious Princess who has the heart to save both of us."
Barghest feels her jaw drop. It takes too long to realize her hands are frozen in place — far beyond fixing it.
Charlemagne still grins wryly at her. It's brighter than before thanks to the lack of distance between them. "So hey. Listen to the failure of a king like me and just give the whole 'strength' thing a break, alright? There's more to life than just 'strength.' Life can be cool past all the strength too. A former Master of mine showed me that, long before Vy."
Barghest looked down at the shorter man, just as Charlemagne reached out with one armored fist to lightly punch her chestplate. It wasn't strong enough to cause a dent, but the undercurrent of meaning was still there, making her blink slowly. "…So…" she exhaled, bringing her hand up to rub at the edge of her mouth again. Even when the inside of her glove comes back slightly wet, it didn't matter. Charlemagne wasn't Adonis. Charlemagne was just… Charlemagne. And— "Are you trying to say weakness is 'cool' as well, Charlie?"
And, just like the foolish adventurer he was, Charlie beams at the sound of his own self-proclaimed nickname. She didn't know why she used it, but seeing him grin made her feel a little bit better about it. "More than cool, my knight! We actually have a movie show to watch together with the Princess just to prove it!"
Barghest slowly blinks again. It was true that Proper Human History did have such things (outside of the slang, why was he using it now?) to heavily contrast Cnoc ni Riabh's chocolate parties for socializing, but… "What kind of show is it?"
Charlie lowers his arm to then grab her hand, squeezing as tight as he could. Through the metal, his grip felt warm. Inviting, alluding to something more that Barghest could never remember seeing from Adonis, even when he was in better days. What could it all mean? "Less asking, Barghest," Charlie hums with a brighter grin, "but let's get to more watching!"
"Luke, I think I've finally gotten to the bottom of this mystery."
"I can't see a solution, Professor. Ah, now I can't… see at all."
"Our villain escaped through this room."
"But…" The one little boy in blue turns on his lantern. "There's no way out of here."
The light on the screen then solidifies against a brown top hat of an English gentleman that Barghest could never recall from her knowledge provided by the Throne of Heroes. Fictional or not, thanks to the shock, her gaze unconsciously starts drifting.
"I call teleportation," a bunny-eared, maid-dressed Astolfo interrupts past a mouthful of popcorn, a fang peeking out past his bottom lip. "What do you think, King Dumbass?"
Despite his armor and sweeping cape, Charlie grabs a nearby cup to start pouring himself a hefty serving of soda. The fact that said bubbly drink wasn't splashing against the table of the kotatsu he nestled himself into with Bradamante was a feat in itself. "Maybe jumping? He could've been like you, Astolfo, in losing all his sanity!"
"Hey! My hippogriff at least makes my heroic landing look great, thank you very much!"
"You mean," Bradamante said in a quiet voice over a tangerine Arturia tossed to her from the kitchenette, shaking her head, "the hippogriff you borrowed from me, right, A-chan?"
"Eep."
"...'Stolfo," Vy interrupts patiently, apparently not minding Robin Hood (persistent as ever when it came to their Master, it seemed) hugging her from behind in their shared bean bag chair. "Down, boy. Just focus on the movie, okay?"
"Aw! Roland's not down, though!"
"Kiiiiinda can't see it, so that's a moot point."
"Booooooo."
"Don't boo the Princess, Astolfo," Charlie said dutifully past his sloshing soda cup. "She's the host here."
"Seconded," Arturia added, tossing another tangerine Astolfo's way, much to the holiday Saber's chagrin (if his loud screech at the fruit pelting his forehead was any indication). "On that note, please excuse the hit. My hand slipped."
Charlie scoffed. "Of course it did. And Roland was just accidentally left out."
"Are you complaining?"
Barghest certainly wasn't.
(This was all because Robin was apparently covering Vy's line of vision from seeing a strangely naked Roland dancing about from the other side of the currently sealed entrance threshold of the recreation room that they all were populating, it seemed. Because that was going on too. And did Robin mutter something like, "Roland, stop being Gray Fullbuster for one goddamn day and just get some fucking clothes on" under his breath, or was it a figment of her imagination?)
(Hm.)
(To think Barghest once thought her ideal Knights of the Round Table were chaotic to meet in person. Roland dancing to the current movie soundtrack with his junk in full view had them all beat for sure.)
(Though with how thick his girth was, perhaps he would be a better knight in bed. Barghest could entertain the idea later.)
Nonetheless, even when being embraced by her beloved, Vy sat in the center of their little group, sounding authoritative despite her current lounging (and pajama attire) when adding to the nearby Rider-turned-Saber, "And 'Stolfo, please remember to give Bradamante her hippogriff back when possible. And no calling Charlie 'King Dumbass.' That last part's specifically an ableist word."
"Awwww! But it fits him!"
Charlemagne rolled his eyes. "No awwww'ing the Princess either!"
Hm.
Charlemagne's Twelve Paladins. Even if only three were present with their King to contrast the mostly populated Round Table of Proper Human History's Britain in Chaldea, there was something about watching them up close that had Barghest think for a moment.
Surely, Barghest couldn't say she was… close to the other Tam Lin in comparison. Baobhan Sith was always obsessed with being close to her mother, and Melusine was just… Melusine.
But when watching a movie together with the paladins, two of the Grailed, Vy and — and Charlie, Barghest turned back to the TV out of curiosity. Just as the main protagonist — Professor Layton, so the title screen said with the movie's title of The Eternal Diva — smiled at her, she started to reconsider. Just this once.
If strength wasn't what saved her in this new life as a Servant, perhaps…
"Remember," Layton said with a chuckle then, right over a floor made up of a star, a moon, and a sun. "This case started with the impossible."
As the fictional man began his deduction, Barghest couldn't help but wonder if the impossibly weak could save the rest. Just like they did in bringing her back from the brink of hell.
Layton's newest line seemed to sum it all up for her. "When the stars and planets align, you will see your way."
Listening to Charlemagne — no, Charlie — banter about something in the movie's plot with his paladins, Vy, and Robin most certainly proved there was some merit to it. Barghest at least wanted to hope so.
