For silverfur-ookami
Title: The Death of Kotomine Kirei Characters: Gilgamesh, Lancer, mentions of Kotomine Kirei Warning: Character death, spoilers Type: AU of sorts. The gap between Kirei’s death and the start of FHA, with some padding towards Lancer’s knowledge of the Gilgamesh/Kirei duet.
Hiiiiiiiiiiii, I’m so sorry this was late. I feel really bad but I was really hating what I wrote before so I fixed it up (tbh I redid it all…OTL). I hope you enjoy. I’ve had this rolling around in my head for a while, and it seemed like a fun idea to explore. I’m a bit rusty, so I apologize in advance if I missed any spelling/grammar things!
It had been about a year. Or at least, that was what he’d been told. Truthfully speaking, the Servant hadn’t exactly bothered to keep record of it. One day would lead to another and it was nothing more than a procession of time anyway right? Then again, his attitude was about as laid back as he was.
Lancer yawned as he reached over to crack open the can of soft drink beside him. He had perched, cross-legged, in his usual spot on the Fuyuki pier. In one hand he held a ratty, beat up fishing rod. It wasn’t anything flash, but it did the job just fine; and that was enough for him. The blue-haired male had become somewhat of a ‘part of the scenery’ kind of guy. Here at an exact time, leaving again after he’d fished what he needed (or wanted) and the sun going down while tinting the air with warm colours. Status quo.
Some of the townsfolk did wonder where the strange-looking foreigner had come from (and where he went when he wasn’t at the pier for that matter) but none had managed to get an answer of some kind from him for it. Lancer just seemed to shrug and comment about how nice a day it was or similar methods of changing the subject.
In a way, he wasn’t entirely sure why he was still around. That whole business of the priest being defeated should have meant that he and a certain blonde asshole had disappeared. At the very least, he should have since he had been directly connected to Kotomine; and yet here he was. Alive (kind of) and kicking.
The Lancer leaned back in thought, nose wrinkling as his memories lingered on the chaos that had followed Kotomine Kirei’s death and what it had entailed.
Gilgamesh, King of Heroes had been angry. But truthfully, anger did not even begin to encompass the surprisingly unintelligible mumbling that had left the blonde when Kotomine’s corpse had been discovered; head lolling in the Servant’s lap.
Gilgamesh had lowered himself to allow the little slime of a child, Matou Shinji, demand order from him. It was part of the priest’s ‘plans’. Plans that even Gilgamesh himself was not entirely privy too, much to his distaste. But the Holy Grail War had been the duo’s endgame; a beautiful play spread out across Fuyuki and dripping red with blood. Whose blood, it did not matter in the end, as long as they revelled in it until their skin was stained crimson.
These were the kinds of words that Lancer had been forced to endure. The two were not unlike a married couple, albeit a disgusting perverted and dangerous one.
But the endgame, and the Archer-class Servant’s tolerance of the gutless child, had been his reason of absence from the church.
Meanwhile, Lancer had been doing as he was ordered; in that he had been patrolling the city and looking for Servants or Masters to spy on. It wasn’t as though he had a choice. Kotomine Kirei was his Master in this War, so choice of obedience was little.
Maybe if they had been there, the priest’s death wouldn’t have occurred. It was possible, but without the ability to go back in time there was no way to know for sure.
What time was it? Lancer glanced upwards, his thoughts on the past temporarily distracted. He was warm and the sky had started to fade a little towards twilight; the sun beginning to sink towards the horizon. Not quite time to head home, but getting there.
Home.
Lancer snorted to himself. The derelict wreckage of a church that was his and Gilgamesh’s ‘home’ was appalling. The only part of the church undamaged was the actual bedrooms, a stroke of luck which certainly wasn’t thanks to his rank.
It hadn’t always been that way, but Gilgamesh did have a way with destruction.
The mumbling had been confusing at first. Why did the blonde care that much about the dead priest? The cold, clever King who cared for none but himself was upset over a dead human? The questions that Lancer had asked when he’d returned from patrol that day still hadn’t really been answered. He hadn’t dared speak them, only approached Gilgamesh cautiously and with a frown.
“How dare you, Kirei. How dare you. You do not decide when to leave this earth. You are mine, you belong to me. How dare you leave me here. Like he left me here. You are forbidden, Kirei. I forbid you to die. I am your King. Your God. You will obey me. Kirei, obey me. I will not suffer such disobedience from you.”
He remembered clearly how it had happened. The soft swish of his ponytail against his back had alerted the grieving blonde to his presence, slitted pupils focusing on him not unlike a wild cat with its prey.
“You,” Gilgamesh hissed as his fingers digging into cold, hard flesh.
That single word had chilled him to the core. Lancer knew the other was a hell of a Servant but he’d always known him to be more akin to a sleek and lazy housecat. The bloodlust in the blonde’s eyes now was very much nothing of the sort.
“You,” he repeated. Gilgamesh’s lips curled in contempt and his breathing seemed haggard. “You allowed this, mongrel.”
Oh shit. They thought it was his fault?
Lancer raised his hands up to show he was empty handed. “Hold on, Gilgamesh. I didn’t do anything,” he said in reply. He’d only just gotten here hadn’t he? What were they thinking?
“Do not mock me, mongrel.”
Gilgamesh rose then, his liquid grace once almost beautiful was now rather terrifying. “You are his Servant. You are his to control and to use as collateral. You are the one who is supposed to keep him from death. You are the one who killed him.”
Lancer backed away slowly, the dangerous aura coming from the Archer-class Servant was practically visible. He had walked into the lion’s den and was about to suffer the consequences of that.
The church was filled with a golden glow. The Gate of Babylon was even more imposing in such a confined space, spanning the entire width of the church and until it touched the edges all the way around. A wall of death.
Gilgamesh stood there, missing his usual arrogance and smug grin. He was blank but for pure and consuming anger.
The Archer-class Servant’s clothes, Lancer noticed, were stained with blood. It was almost laughable that Kotomine Kirei had meant to turn the world to blood, and instead it was their blood that had been spilled; tainting the King’s clothing.
“Oi…Gilgamesh…calm down…”
His words were unhelpful, and it was clear that Gilgamesh had no intention to listen to the priest’s ‘muderer’. Weaponry slid out from the Gate, thousands of blades in all shapes and sizes; all aimed at the very unlucky Irish Servant.
Lancer summoned Gae Bolg to his aid, gripping the spear tightly and straightening. He was no coward after all, and while he couldn’t possibly hope to face Gilgamesh he did need to defend himself. At the very least, speed would be on his side.
“For daring to allow this King’s flower to wilt and die in your hands, you will be punished.”
Blades and spears and a whole manner of dangerous items rained down upon Lancer. The Servant darted away quickly, utilizing what tiny gaps he could find as the blonde deemed him dead dog walking.
Between his speed and Gae Bolg, Lancer was able to avoid much of the onslaught. Shattered glass rained down on his head also, and wood chips were sent flying across the church as the attack destroyed the windows and pews that were around them. The shards sliced into Lancer’s skin and collected on his battle armour, adding to the confusion and destruction.
Vision impaired by blood, the blue-haired male was forced to slow himself and earned several swords in various body parts, causing him to stumble. In such small quarters it was the magical equivalent of shooting fish in a barrel.
“Stop it you fucking insane gold asshole!”
The swearing had started now and Lancer used Gae Bolg to gut the front door of the church. The hill was dark and lonely, now occupied by the injured male as he lunged through the doorway.
Freedom.
No longer confined, Lancer exited post-haste to find a secluded hideaway for his own safety. Gilgamesh did not give chase, instead allowing the Gate to dwindle until a single golden portal remained. From it, heavy chain clanked and shifted, falling about the King’s shoulders.
He reached out to stroke it gently, expression hard and eyes still glittering with anger. “Your presence is not a comfort, Enkidu,” the blonde said curtly, turning his heel and walking back to the corpse.
“Kirei, you disappointed me.”
The body of the priest was collected and Gilgamesh, with the Chains of Heaven still resting across his shoulders, carried the second man he ever cared for to the basement below; placing Kotomine’s body in an empty coffin before leaving.
Lancer hadn’t really known what followed after that. There had been a few days he had hidden out, somehow healing and not fading away. The third night he had been interrupted by chains wrapping around him like a snake, coiling and rendering him immobile.
He was dragged then, to the feet of the King of Heroes. No words were spoken nor did the chains loosen their grip. Gilgamesh turned and headed into the church, to the sleeping quarters he had shared with the priest. Gagged by the metal, Lancer could only protest in small, muffled sounds. What the other planned to do, he had no inkling, but seriously doubted he wished to find out.
Gilgamesh yanked the chains until Lancer was dumped into the bed. The blue-haired Servant opened his mouth speak but found several weapons pointed at his throat. “Speak, dog, and it will be your last word.”
Gilgamesh lay down in the bed beside Lancer. “Sleep,” he hissed angrily after a while, slitted eyes opening when the Lancer did not fall asleep.
Confused, Lancer did as he was told.
It wasn’t until time had passed that he had started to understand why Gilgamesh had dragged him there. There was no intimacy or caring that was displayed. It was simply that the bed was cold with a single person to occupy it. It had occurred to him that perhaps the two had shared more than just the room.
The days had melted away, and after so long, Lancer was used to it. Gilgamesh was no less of a dick than he had always been, but lately the blonde had been using a potion of some kind to alter his age. Instead of sharing a bed with an angry, bitter King , the Servant had a strange blonde child to keep him company. At least the youth was of a much better temperament, though still demanded Lancer remain his bed-partner lest he grew cold.
In contrast to his days spent fishing or doing odd jobs, Ko-Gil was friendly with the local children. When the adult was around, Gilgamesh still somehow managed to charm the Fuyuki youths, often taking to the pier to humiliate and harass Lancer.
It had become the norm, Lancer mused as he packed up for the day. Empty cans were disposed of and he slung his rod over his shoulder to trek back up to the damaged church. To think what had happened since that day, it was odd that time continued on as though they were humans and not Servants.
But normal could not remain for long Lancer realized, as he stepped through the front doorway of the church. He blinked, pausing in confusion as someone he did not know nor recognize stood before him.
Her golden eyes focused on him and a small smile found a way onto the woman’s face as silvery white hair fluttered from the breeze of the damaged windows.
“Have you lost your way, Child? Come to me and speak your confessions of sin.”
