DUX BELLORUM. (ɪʀ)

"– and therefore I had liefer to die with honour than to live with shame."   

[kyngearthur]

emiya​.

Wounds are still fresh, mind her. Perhaps it was best she ignore the issue while he recoups on point than make humor toward it. Regardless, his shake of head should hint inclinations. If not, the flick that would be directed upon forehead spells it clearly. “Maybe leave comedy to the jester. Had I intention to remain distant, I wouldn’t had came here.” Let alone speak with again, but he digresses. “I’m here once more. For whatever time this coil grants us, I willingly choose to remain by your side.”

Snorting, his arms would fold. “Just try not to make it too difficult, hmm?” Sarcasm is as ever, but maybe in a way it should be relieving. At least, if she decides to look it that way. Uncrossing, hands drift to thighs, lightly stroking over with thumbs as if to sooth back. Or at the very least, touch as he offers more himself. “Sorry. I didn’t make this the easiest. But, we’re here now.” Which.. for what it’s worth does put him at peace. Enough he makes himself vulnerable, and closes the newly created gap. Cushion if found against her chest, as he embraced for warmth.

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        Is love... supposed to be ‘easy’? The breath she’d been holding frees itself alongside her worries, and her back slacks to fold him within her arms. Even though she readied herself to relieve him of his duties, there was an uneasiness concealed under the sovereignty of her usual calm. It might have shaken her had he decided against her wishes, but... he didn’t. Angled fingertips create trails of soft grooves along his back, stroking rhythmically back and forth to instill calm. Lips follow the mood of comfort and nuzzle into his white hair, pecking it over and over again.

      “You’ve been granted my emotions. They are at your beck and call. Presently, I find myself wallowing in a happiness and relief I’ve not felt for a long time. If I were to be removed from the Throne of Heroes, it would surely be due to my frustration with fate and its whims that we follow. If it were possible, I would have you embark on every journey of mine. Sakamoto Ryouma and Oryou... they have something truly enviable.”

[kyngearthur]

Archer​.

“I know now for sure.” Take all the time she wished. It had been the minimum he could return, and within his ability. Though she immediately would test tension of wire that bonded them with a reminder of his faults. It is not to say he does not accept accountability, but. “I did. As you had abandoned me then, I sought to do the same.” She could bear a grudge for the act if she wished. He was willing to earn redemption for poor choice, but a bit of acknowledgement of fault would serve both well. If she knew of the choice he made.. it indicates more poorly of her than him in truth. As inducing his suffering didn’t exactly sit well with him.

Yet, if there is any malice in his voice allow clarification. “My apologies. I allowed emotions to influence me more than I normally do.” A measure of her strength over in him unironically, that he’d place such a value over such a thing. More than he was comfortable, but accepted as a compromise. “If not someone else however, then would you had preferred I left Gawain to wander? My time was coming to a close then, and while I wished to rid myself of memories of you then not all of my intent was so simple.” A preference to giving the creature a future beyond pure abandonment.

Perhaps in a way he was protecting it. But alas, it remains beside the point. “That was my choice then and one I regret. I’m sure you have your own I won’t burden you with.” Pass was past. This was now.

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        How should one put this... it is the intent behind the action that matters. While her departure came against her will, her attempts to return to him had spoken for more than enough of her faith whereas he willfully — repeatedly — made decisions out of spite. The first fault was hers alone for growing too comfortable with her whereabouts, but the rest fell solely on the obliteration and instability of their worlds. “...T’was but a jest, Archer. To assuage the moment.” To have had it trigger him is regrettable, but it’s seemingly liberated his mind. Acts of reconciliation tend to reveal one’s innermost desires, as well as their darkest reservations. Was he not ready to accept her again?

         “I will say it once, and once only. I did not intend on leaving you then, and I do not intend on leaving you now. We were aware of the choices we made in those worlds unknown. There was truth in my promises, though the variables were not entirely mine to decide. The paths I could control, I willed them toward you.” Arturia’s eyes close, and within the darkness behind them is her personal battle with bitterness. “That being said, I am relieved enough that you have allowed me the chance to speak on my own behalf. Do not feel obligated to return to me should you feel it presently inappropriate. It is... not my intent to force your hand. You should not feel restrained to my side.”

[kyngearthur]

Emiya​.

It was a matter of time really. The impact of burden never truly did manifest as he anticipated, instead spiraling into a matter he is less than astute of. But eventually as the dust settles, and breaths align, realization hits. Surely it’s unintentional, considering her haze moments ago. But vulnerability is not met with scorn or disdain, rather understanding. And protection. Admittedly he failed her in this as things unfolded as did she, but the matter of responsibility was of no importance anymore. Mistakes were just that, and nothing more.

Arms would push off bed to sit up upright, before coming around to cradle. Bruised arms carried many scars through his lifetime, and this one they were added could be handled as well. As he knows better than to speak, to insist, but to instead offer her the respite she had finally earned and sought. The warmth of another, and the affection they could hold. Surely, he far from the most affectionate of individuals but he knows this much.

Compassion is not lost within him. Caring for is the least he can do, and perhaps hopefully could finally put an end to wounds that had been festering for so long. But if silence and warmth was not enough, assurance of lips would do their best as subtle they were. Coating forehead with concern, but also ease. If case she forgotten, she was loved by him.

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       These tears he will witness once in its overture and finality. This destitute exposure... this thing they call a human heart truly is unsuitable for authoritarian rule. To have mauled and slain scores of adversaries from past to present just to succumb to internal, insufferable suffering is undoubtedly karmic consequence. For that reason... relief is found in the realism that she is King no longer. When the sentiment behind his gestures finally assuages the authenticity of a sweeter reality, she feels as if she’s finally awoken from a two-year long nightmare. 

       “Have I ever told you before? Emiya Shirou? That I...” That what she felt for him was nothing of unimportance; that the volume of it could not be compounded by action, words, or time. It was inexplicable, and the feeling of it was so painfully severe, but the permanence of it could be imprinted with three, simple words. “I love you.” 

        For the poets who have bled using the rose’s thorns as a quill, there might have been some sense in their romantic derangement. Arturia always thought those knights of old archaic and foolish for contending war using something as intangible as love as a motivator, but she never quite imagined it to be so intense. Between the fluctuations of infatuation and the nigh-quizzical exchanges between them through the times, there was a line there often danced that prompted her inevitable return. So long she was here, held in a way no one dared hold her before, it would be worth it. 

                         “...yet you gave away Sir Gawain.”                    These are the pivotal, first words following such a monumental confession. 

[kyngearthur]

Archer​.

Once a weakness, always a weakness. Such a thought could apply either way as scene quickly unfolded, the pair sliding into heat that had been subtly ignored by one and grating for the other. Leave it to her to resurface these feelings again, the details that had been ignored. Now, focused. Yet she is as brash as ever, hastily acting in retort. Eager, and admittedly so was he. Thus actions are not meant with any disdain, no fight for power. After all, he granted her the opportunity first to sate herself.

If this was the manner, compliance comes with. Tongue and tooth would operate diligently, stroking and snagging as the limits of her tension were tested. Though they wouldn’t act independently, as the repercussions of aligning herself upon him show. As attention was on thrusts, hands were freed, with specific placements in mind. Surely chest was still cold yes? Only one had been tended too, thus other required some love as well. Index and thumb would ensure neglect was not done, greeting with a pinch before rubbing between. 

Supporting hand had a more enthusiastic duty. It would see her motion refined, ensuring both quickness and force all with placement upon hips, aiding in her attempt to undo. If it was that simple material she sought from him, let him grant it then in due time. With an amount that spoke how backed up he was with the enthusiasm to mark her victory. 

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      There are matters best reserved for action alone. Words cannot fill the gorge time left behind, and even apologies cannot heal the rift of wounds they must have unwittingly caused one another. Even the web of intricate plans she’d orchestrated to undo errors have become ensnared by lustrous passion; logic and rationale seemingly misplaced and the oath to torture him utterly forgotten when her body decides to vacate the all-too heavy burden she’d dealt with for too long. She’s breathless upon release; capsizing helplessly from the blistering flares coursing through her veins.

      To have overestimated her personal supply of patience was foolhardy. Having failed to maintain the exhibitionist of a lioness, the persona of hers that harbored kinship to dragons left a venture of abrasions on his back and shoulders. Patches blotched the canvas of his neck as well. Such realizations only come to fruition after the world around her ceases its spinning, and she wonders if there’s any pity left to spare.

       Sleuthing upward, her forehead comes to languidly rest atop his. There’s nothing but silence from her, as if she was doing her best to find the right words while breaths mingled. Her throat stutters, and her eyes clench. Unbefitting of the moment, but perhaps long overdue, her lashes saturate with tears and freely overflow.

[kyngearthur]

Archer​.

The man had been a fool many times in his lifetime and beyond. Surely one of those moments could be noted for his actions before this point, but not now. He’d knowingly goaded the beast, if just to see how far he had pushed her. Not that he could be offered reprieve all the same, as her swiftness is without delay. Sent on his heels with weakness in hand, still he finds a way to portray power. Even if surely it was faked. Gritted teeth and expression hint the most he would, as she continues to press his buttons. And show the depth of want.

Tch. Ever the power struggle with this woman, proud as she was she had every ability to act true on words. Thus every bit of him believes her when she confesses. Ngh. “A king that wishes to plead? How ironic.” Perhaps this bit could be described as foolish, but- “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait just a moment longer.” Truth be told, was he truly snared by the lion? Or was this much his plan? A vulnerability of hers was exposed yes, but his eyes set lower.

Upon horizons more plump. More delicate, more enticing. So as he’s done many times before, in a show of disobedience he acts. The adjustments needed would be done as to align lips to tips, before the two soft matters would meet. Sinking inside the shadow of view, tongue greeting itself again to an old familiar with strokes indiscriminate. This much power he still had, and would show without restraint. He wasn’t the victim she believed in truth, but the encouragement to her desires. After all, he stood to benefit as well.

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      Hmph. One mustn’t muddle the differences between a plead and a demand. It is his duty as a knight to cater to the wants of his king, regardless of how outrageous their nature. A tyrant in her lifetime she was not, but the way he makes her stir garners second doubts. A muffled sound of restraint is bitten back when he rebels, hand grabbing fistfuls of his hair as her spine curves. Several seconds elapse where she successfully disguises her faux pas of indifference, but with just the right amount of pressure between his teeth, she gasps and shudders, shoulders coming loose.

          “ — haa, ha. eep!”

       The sheer amount of stress culminating between her thighs and the anxiety they can barely contain is dangerous. Archer need not be in her to incur a climax, as even the scantest amount of friction can tip it all over. These sensations are strangely simultaneously familiar and foreign. Solitary touches alone in the confines of darkness cannot match what the warmth of another can — so it is safe to say she never tried. Even if there were nights when she awoke in cold sweat, hungrier than could be.

        Arturia needs to feel him everywhere and precisely somewhere at the same time, as if he didn’t have enough of him to accommodate the beast her bones can scarcely cage. “...What have you done to me?” A woe so quiet it was nearly rendered mute; one more to herself than anyone else. She’s so dismantled by the effect he has that she refuses to allow herself rapture, and believes she must deny him too. To push him to his limits, to see who loses first. She’ll initiate it by forcing his entry inside her — an act that nearly costs her — but she quickly regains focus. She’ll ride him all night if she has to.

[kyngearthur]

Archer​.

Hesitation always was a death sentence in the other’s presence. Memory had forgotten her forwardness, her bluntness. To some degree, her appetite as well. Mind couldn’t even register if he had blinked from one point to another, as he was so taken aback by her brashness. Though not an ounce within him could deny the advance, his own wants albeit more subtle were still conscious enough to stir. Her touch was a sanguine memory, one rapidly reapproaching.

“I suppose I did say that.” As did she confess already. Taking into account details and establishing understanding, where everything stood was clear now. Pin seemed less of a trap, and more of an jumping off point. Why deny friction any longer became his first thought as hands found themselves upon hips, dragging down for contact before digits crowded large volume through fabric. If his stance wasn’t clear, allow him to retort. “Your turn first. Just be ready for my turn after.” Confidence nudges, as if to stir the beast.

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                                        This isn’t a flattering look on you, Arturia.

      “...Do you find me flattering now?” For all the insults he’d slung during their disarray — all the times he’d made a mockery of her character’s vulnerabilities — he’s certainly being obedient. Those historic words had scathed her. Now, the only fire present is her as she unbridles her frustration through a kiss bristled with attitude.

      To have burned a lioness and thought himself safe was a foolish thing. Mayhap the advantage was his then, but as she snares his lips between hers, she knows that it’s returned and purrs with pride. His grip alone propels her hips to push against the plane of his waist soon after, familiar flames rekindling as she drags against him, hands ripping away any defenses present on his body. Denim, cashmere, buckled belts she’d sooner see around his wrists than his waist — naught but shreds now as her tongue navigates the pathway from neck to ear, teeth snagging on cartilage as her hands begin entertaining his arousal, tauntingly.

      Last summer, he’d made a spectacle of himself. Arturia couldn’t stand to see what was hers being beheld by anything or anyone else. She still can’t. His eyes should have been on her, just like hers was on him. A strange storm brews in clouded hues as she pulls part of her warmth away, neck bare and inviting as she cranes it for him. Though her chest no longer warms his, she ensures that the friction between her palms below keeps him heated. “Did you enjoy yourself last year? The thrill of the seaside, the escapade within those haunted walls... I would have enjoyed it if you made me scream, too.”

      The context of her words feels dangerously warped. It insinuates that her ‘appetite’ has become despairingly insatiable; something that bodes poorly for the marksman and any freedom he may have hoped for outside her domain.

[kyngearthur]

Archer​.

It wasn’t difficult to understand once a better glimpse is caught why there was some frustration, as misunderstanding on both ends were made clear by a tint of red taking over his cheeks. It was not a complaint from the man, if anything far from, but surely this was something he did not plan or expect for. “….” Was it polite to look? Was he even still allowed to? Calculative nature found a difficulty in solving this puzzle, before folding altogether. Ahem. This much he knows. “Proper or not, I see no issue.” Give him a moment to explain better as he stands before, pleading case.

“..There are no prying eyes I mean. So long you see no issue in me viewing, I see no reason for you to change other than to inconvenience yourself.” Or was it uncomfortable? He hasn’t had the chance to admire it properly, for one reason or another.

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       WHY WOULD SHE TAKE ISSUE? It was him whom these silver threads were tailored to, overbearing as they were in their sparkling ornery. Novel as the color is for lingerie, she opted to go against the tides of predictable red or black — opting for a hue that complimented the color of his eyes. Wherever they decided to settle, they would glimmer against her skin, as if she were a mirage in the desert. Finding calm, she’ll slowly pivot and beeline toward the bed, gently pushing against his chest until he falls back against the mattress with her regaining dominance. 

        Pinned beneath her, she’ll allow his limbs free will, but traps his sights with her own. In spite of the exuberant confidence, her heart is thundering; skin undeniably flushed with anxiety that consequentially came after a year of abstinence. “...I thought I made it clear that it had been an incredibly frustrating year.” A blink; tendrils of gold slipping past. “You said that I could have you still, did you not?” Lips lower, ghosting just atop his to whisper, “ — we can catch up later.”

[kyngearthur]

Archer.

@kyngearthur​

“It’s wrong to keep people waiting, you know.” Curtness fits him as usual, especially when it’s nothing more than a joke. “What, did you think I wouldn’t show up?” Never mind that he arrived early, they did agree on her quarters right? His hallway was too frequent a hotspot that visiting her was better accommodating to privacy, and preventing interference. Of course he doesn’t appear empty handed, bringing substance to consume. Something to fill the time while mouths weren’t talking. 

While he knows he’s invited, man would still wait at the door, awaiting acknowledgement to enter.

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     A PREMATURE ARRIVAL IS STILL A VIOLATION OF THEIR CONTRACT. They agreed — repeatedly  — at eight. To arrive a quarter of an early shy, before she could even weave herself together... sigh. It is evident that she was in the middle of crafting her appearance for the night; effeminate silk and laces strewn about, a floral mist on her neck. Only her hair had been left unattended, down and astray in its soft curls. It also appears she utterly disregarded the talking and the consuming aspect of the night, which is why she promptly tugs on his sleeve and ushers him in before eyes could pry.

      Frankly, to have jumped so far ahead in her own thoughts... she remains at the door once it’s locked, confronting her own shame before addressing him. “I... briefly considered preparing food. Once I recalled my own talents, I decided to accommodate with wine.” A prolonged silence ensues as she feels her skin growing cold. “ahem. if you’ll allow me a moment, I can properly dress myself.”

[kyngearthur]

archer​.

There would be no invasion of privacy offered, no insistence to see her shame. It had been the reason shoulder was lent to, and he has no intention to turn back on it. Eyes would instead keep to the overcast, as he loosens a sigh. “The paths that bring misery are often paved with good intentions.” It’s a concept both should be all too familiar with, but he digresses. “Time is anything but kind. This alone is a gift really, though perhaps not in the fashion you imagined.”

It’s what they’d work with for now, and that was good enough to him. “If Orion and Artemis can coexist here without issue in master’s eyes, then our situation should pose no issue.” Of course, it should be acknowledged but.. approach that one problem at a time. They only just solved their current dilemma, give it a bit till they look to solving others. “I take it you’d like to request orders to be moved to my room?” A joke of course, though he knows it to be likely true. “We’re capable. Whatever we fight, we’ll be ready.” It’s not to say challenge wouldn’t come, just that it would be approached like it has been before. Careful and calculated.

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      MUDDLING THEIR MOMENT WITH THE TOPIC OF THOSE TWO unwittingly coaxes a chuckle from her. “Orion would not dare misbehave — rather he should not, yet he finds it in himself to wish for death every time.” In that regard, she respects the Goddess fully. For his quip, however, it earns a subtle pinch to the arm. “Living down the hall from one another is not sufficient, Archer?” Far be it from her to admit it, but... it may not be. 

      “On the topic of Master,” weary eyes languidly trail toward their begotten pile of materials. “Do you suppose they’ll question our rather prolonged expedition?” Naught but a few knight medals were to be acquired, and their time limit has since expired. “There is far too much to discuss, far too many things we’ve not shared with one another for so long. The time we currently have is not enough. I propose we return. And perhaps... schedule an arrangement to meet within Chaldea? Busy as you are, I know it may be difficult.”

                                                                        —  ;

[kyngearthur]

archer​.

It’s far from fitting or appropriate, but a small smirk finds itself on his lips all the same in amusement. “I’ve told you before, I’m far from the model knight.” Despite his position he still finds a way to be sarcastic and callous, though more in a fashion that hints kindness than coldness. After all regardless of his sharp tongue, gesture meant deep enough for other to catch on his current standing. That is, if words weren’t already forward enough.

Off that knee then, seems the impact has already hit. Just a hand on her shoulder to initiate contact then as sturdy support starts small. “Then it seems you are indebted an apology.” He feels owed one as well, but he doesn’t shoulder the belief too closely. His pain had subsided, while hers still burned deeply like an open wound. Perhaps then give her the moment to express emotion, as he buries her face into his shoulder to hide shame. And let her be free of shackles.

“..Apologies, my King. I’m here now, if you will still have me.”

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     TO HAVE ONE’S MIND JEAPORDIZED WITH EVERY SHIFTING TIDE makes one fearful of calm. Of stability. Artoria, prior to becoming vulnerable to emotions, did not heed the trifling consequences of her contract. To protect humanity, she forwent individual desires. Was he not the same? “Even now, I cannot promise that we will not be ravaged once again. The world is not merciful, Archer.” Still, “ — still, I... am sorry. The remorse I feel toward leaving you cannot find its weight in words. Forgive me, Shirou, for I never wished to hurt you.” 

      For their souls still sought one another in different worlds. She squeezes him tight, once, twice, thrice for every universe she’s found him in. For every different set of memories they’ve shared. “I had once, naively, believed our reunion would be filled with laughter and joy. For all that we have undergone, for all that the times have taken us away from one another, I feel we have defied fate’s intended course.” 

      She refuses to budge, as she refuses to enable him to see her face in such a raw moment of weakness. “...Do you think Master will allow it? This is not the carefree life we were once used to in those foreign lands, after all. We mustn’t die here.”

[kyngearthur]

archer.

It would be a lie if he didn’t once upon a time. To see the image of her but with no response toward, to exist but be merely a shell without memory. It wounded him deeper than nearly any other of the many mistakes he made. If not worse on the account he did it to himself. Yet, if there is one thing he’s learned over his lifetimes is that pain held like that would only destroy him. And the bigger mistake would be to not move on.

“You are Artoria yes?” A simple question, but one that affirms his belief. And maybe, assures her of his thoughts. “The woman I loved?” Choice of words is picked with purpose, no hints necessary. Just outright. “Perhaps once one of your visages soured your image. But if the genuine king stands before me..” Then maybe his stance is poor. And a knee should be placed on the ground. “You’ve kept me waiting.”

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     SELDOM IS SHE MOVED; never once so deeply. Centuries of living by a blade has filled her hollow heart with steel, but for him to creep upon the precipice of proving otherwise is a feat in itself. He has always had that power, she thinks. That involuntary sway on her. “When the Knights of Round were summoned as Heroes of the Throne, I relinquished their loyalties to grant them freedom. It is customary for me to do so, as I do not typically permit the return of Knights. For you to reprimand me whilst on your knee...”

     Slender fingers web ‘cross the shadow of her face, vaguely masking incredulity. It may be the fatigue of emotional distress affecting her. “...For you to question me. For you to have ever believed me to be anyone else, or for anyone else to have been me.” Universes be damned. “Emiya Shirou, you are possibly the only one I refuse to free. The lengths that I have gone to reinforce the desperate belief that you still belonged to me... absolutely ludicrous.”

[kyngearthur]

archer​.

An all familiar memory is recalled, but remains just that. A thought in passing as words break his silence. “Vows and contracts are just that though. A matter who’s value can only be measured by something invisible.” Who can really say to loyalty? It’s a concept he’s quite clear on, and surely she is as well. Regardless his shrug dismisses, knowing he tests her tolerance for his antics if he continues to speak as such.

“They are what they are.” An attempt to feel the world around. Successful or failure, it was a try. “After all, what are we servants without them but ruthless killing machines?” Perhaps so. But he’s done with that role. “I think I prefer the other way.” A choice to be more human, something he mentioned before. “This time we have is extra. May as well enjoy it, don’t you think?”

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      ARCHER SPEAKS SO CAREFREELY; so queerly that she questions whether he’s deviated from the lonely path of self-perseverance. His tongue still knows the language of vague ambiguity, so she knows that this is him — still, she cannot hide the spark that gleans her emerald eyes. “The time we have is eternal. For that reason, I am of the same sentiment. ...I... would not be opposed to indulging in life’s simpler pleasures. Once again.” With you.

     Were it not for the fracture of time and space between them, she would be so gallant as to see his hand taken by hers. How odd that she can still feel such a harrowing loneliness standing next to the person that once filled it. “I wonder if you are experiencing the same emotions as I in this moment. What is it that influenced your sudden change, Archer? Do you not...?” Loathe her? Emotional fatigue bars the completion of the question.

[kyngearthur]

archer​.

To say this was his issue alone would be a greater stupidity than his own upbringing. Even with the man’s insensitivity at times, he wasn’t that much of a fool. “Isn’t that something I should be saying?” Or at least, it’s something she’d prefer he mention likely. After all, matters on that subject had been silent for an extended period of time. He felt comfortable enough to speak on it, and perhaps shed the light she sought.

“People talk. I wouldn’t pay mind to what the few believe.” Something she should be able to relate to. “But regardless, here you stand and as do I.” A simple statement with deeper meaning past it. “Did you intend on staying longer than a season this time? I know to expect much with other servants is a bit difficult.” Curtness reappears, but softened after thought. “I would enjoy it if so. After all, that was my main issue.” Abandonment aside, she is here now. Maybe there’s something behind it.

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     THE YEARS APART SEEMED TO SEASON HIS SILENCE, so the compliance of his company is both surprising and humbling. There’s a sliver of frustration that underlines her gratitude due to the sheer conversational control he possesses, but words are like chess and she’ll accept that hers are pawns for now. She stills her breath on the precipice of instinct and settles for simple truths. 

     “What are we Servants if not seasonal at best? The calls we answer are not ours to choose, nor are our Masters.” As per the laws of the throne. “I have heard hearsay of betrayal and severance during the archaic phases of the Holy Grail Wars, though I’ve yet to witness it myself. While I cannot fathom the train of thought that would compel one to doing so,” she catches his gaze, and holds it. 

       “ — I would be willing to barter that emotions are of substantial influence. Fits of passion —  whether hateful or romantic — can be quite compelling, can’t they?”

[kyngearthur]

archer.​

@kyngearthur​

It could be considered a fable if not for the reality her presence projects. The knightless King, and a kingless knight, they are beyond acquainted with one another. Their story defined by both joy and pain shared on each side, only now to be foggy due to their hazy recent encounters. But like them all, one thing remain consistent. Regardless of where they would find themselves, the other would appear sooner or later.

Now was no different. Reunited to cooperate on a mission gathering resources for the remnants of Chaldea, it would be their first real time to work together after being summoned to the same blimp once again. And as it normally been before, the disconnect was palpable. Except this time, his stance seemed just slightly softer. As he opened the discussion. “It’s amusing, isn’t it?” His air was aloof, as he walked and talked. “I believe this is the fifth time, yes? I think most would say we’re bound to another at this point.” Perhaps if nothing else, he should look to resolve matters. As they wouldn’t be disposed of another anytime soon.

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      NO MATTER HOW INDISCERNABLE THE MEMORIES BECAME, one always seemed to be defined with a bit more clarity than the rest in the midst of all her world hopping. One with a palpably dry sense of humor that often left her feeling parched for kindness, and stony eyes that she could have sworn once softened with her in them. An idle hand catches the stray hairs behind her ears and tucks them away. 

      “If ‘most’ would say that, what would the remaining few believe?” Archer’s mind did tend to parry more conventional thought processes. Suppose that were true, however, would he be entertaining menial conversations? “The notion of soulmates have long been fantasized about —  even during days of yore. Their references varied, and the theory no more than a dinnertime quip during an era where spouses were merely political property, but it existed. I must say that I thought nothing of it before meeting you.”

         “ — and though try as I may to defy fate, I wonder if it ought to be fought at all.” 

[kyngearthur]

KING OF HEROES.

‘Nothing?’. The cup lowered as a small pink tongue licked his lips, still savoring the almost divine wine. But there was a certain fragment of disbelief in the way he stared at the fabled King of Knights. Hadn’t the weight of her ideals crushed this form of her? 

The challenge was tempting, but perhaps that was why she had grown past her immortal mythical age.

“Your subjects, your people, your Kingdom. The ones whose wishes, hopes and realization you incarnate.” The smile accentuated. “I cannot blame you for not remembering our conversation under the moonlight, after all, those were others, talking under circumstances that cannot be repeated.” Gilgamesh grinned.

“However, my question stands. Will you embody their dreams, just as the Rider fool once claim? Or will your subjects become nothing more than a projection or your will, bent to adore you as the goddess you have become?” 

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     KEEN AS HE WAS, his detection of her deception was not surprising. However, despite acknowledging the existence of her own falsehood, she did not truly understand the depth of it. She merely absolved it as something trivial, not knowing herself how deeply rooted her turmoil was.

     “...I am acutely aware of the burdens my younger self harbors. It would appear that the legend of King Arthur is one of renown, as is the wish sculpted by a form of me that misinterprets selflessness.” 

     Entrusting Camelot in the hands of an unnamed replacement is not something she would wish for now, though the allure of the prospect would seem dazzling with a pair of greener eyes.

    “I never cared for self-gratification. Though I received the reverence of the citizens, it was not something I smiled for. What I valued from them was their understanding my word and actions were absolute; justified. Amid the paltry charms of adoration, there was solace knowing that I would never be questioned.”

     Could the same be spoken for the immortal Lion King, however? “King of Heroes-- what kind of civilization would you have formed if you were successful in your quest for immortality? Would you have remained a ruler, at all?”

[kyngearthur]

ARCHER.

♐ ] This was a dream, one he didn’t want to wake up from. Current reality had been but a fraction of his life, yet he appreciated it silently each time when it’s given thought like this. To think this was the now, he still couldn’t believe sometimes. A thought, he would follow up on. “..Why don’t we do so now, then?” Sitting upright on the tanning seat, he got up before walking over.

Hand pointed away, down the stairs and onto the main deck. “It might seem silly to you but there’s a pool on this boat.” With the sun setting, most were turning in to prepare for the night. Practically as great of an opportunity as they would get. “We can make up for lost time. That is, if you don’t mind?”

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      THE PROPOSAL IS A LAUGHABLE ONE, so much that she scoffs. “Silly is the legitimate notion to subject me to public humiliation. ...While I am confident that I can master anything, I suspect that swimming is something that takes time to learn.”

      Even if she does not particularly care to manage moot matters like aesthetic, ruining it seems particularly daunting in a setting where even the youngest of toddlers seem more adept than she. “I suppose, however, that the timing is as comely as it will get. I am willing to compromise, so long you promise not to find me laughable. An ideal way to start... would be for me to watch you swim first.”

[kyngearthur]

                 ✣ anyone.

        TRAVELING FROM AN ERA where the human body looked more skeletal than it did flesh, it was refreshing to see civilization so lively and healthy in modern times. It meant food wasn’t so scarce to the point wars were waged over it, and life had developed to a point where living could feel comfortable. Still, she could not bring herself to gorge on food so heartily. Be it a habit from the past or simply her transformed nature as a Servant, finishing the rest of her fast-food meal seemed impossible.

        Giving a wayward glance to whomever sat closest to her, she offered the untouched remnants of her fries and drink. “Would you happen to have room for more?”