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86% Fate In Time / Chapter 86: Chapter 86

Capítulo 86: Chapter 86

"Power is not what rules the land, it's wit and subterfuge. You may win a war, but so long as the battle is not won, individual victories become meaningless. Revel in your success, wallow in your misbegotten senses of security, for in the end, only bitterness will await you.

Guileless child, drown in your despair and rue the world for its machinations.

Your rule has and always will be destined for ruin.

It's all a matter of course."

There was more to life than duty and honour. Arturia understood this concept well in recent years. Her life was filled with such joy and genuine wonder that she couldn't imagine living it any other way. No, the thought of everything going wrong was her greatest fear to the point that she refused to fall asleep until Shirou and the kids were asleep first. Strong as she was, she'd already learned that complacency led to ruin, and sleep has always been when anyone is in the most danger. Of course, Merlin had assured her that the wards placed throughout Camelot would warn him of danger far in advance, but irrational worry constantly plagued her. Skilled as Merlin was as a Wizard, Morgan had her means as a Witch.

Slowly, surely, Arturia found herself frowning again, her eyes warily darting from left to right for traces of a threat that simply didn't presently exist around her. She'd been on the march with the rest of the army led by Edgar and Gale. The current destination was a location near the borders of Kent; a Saxon outpost serving as an armoury that would supply the Saxons flying Natalie's banner with proper weapons and apparel. The commander in charge of defending the armoury was a friend of Edgar who had made arrangement to keep news of the army's presence discreet.

Arturia got off her horse at the campsite made by the armoury, and made her way to the tents provided by Gale for Shirou's use. It never crossed her mind that she should have been following Natalie to her tent as Natalie's maid. The confused looks some of the Saxons escorting Natalie gave her went right over her head, as Natalie smiled wryly and waved the issue off with the excuse of early day dismissal.

Needless to say, Arturia had not at all been trained in the etiquette of a proper lady in waiting or a simple maid for that matter. She did things based on her gut instincts, and in truth, she missed her husband's company. Gale and Edgar had been marching the army for the majority of the day and she'd had no reasonable excuses to seek Shirou out over the journey. Only Mordred had the privilege to do so, but in this case, Arturia was not feeling envious. Instead, she'd taken to watching Mordred like a hawk for any signs of persistent illness.

Arturia had not yet revealed Mordred's condition to Shirou in light of the sudden order to march, but she'd decided to rectify that mistake now. Shirou deserved to know, and if Mordred truly was better, then there was no reason to fear discharge. With this in mind, she reached the entrance of Shirou's tent, pulled back the flaps with her hands, and stepped inside.

"Hello beautiful."

The voice that greeted her caused no end to the flush working its way up her face. The fact that she found herself becoming absent-minded and forgetting the purpose of her visit was entirely lost to her. She was a Knight, strong, gallant, and valiant. Ergo, she'd never been praised so openly about her appearance in all her life.

"I-I'm not beautiful," she stuttered out in denial, unused to the honest praise and twirling her hair around her index finger to compose herself. Really, there was a limit to jokes, so stop looking at me with those earnest eyes.

The truth of the matter was that Arturia had no confidence in herself as a woman. She constantly compared herself to the image of the other noble ladies in Camelot's courtroom and couldn't help but feel inadequate. Guinevere assured her that she was always the center of attention and had the admiration of many ladies in the kingdom, but Guinevere didn't seem to understand that Arturia was also comparing herself to Guinevere.

When Arturia would inadvertently blunder in social etiquette for ladies, Guinevere would surely cover for her as friends do; however, it just proved to Arturia again and again that she was lacking. No, more than anything, she was weak to this type of assault from the man she loved.

"If not beautiful, then what about captivating?"

Warmth bubbled up from within her, appearing in the form of a demure tilt of her head. Really? Shirou was never one to lie, but could she really believe in that?

"How about Alluring?"

"…"

"The woman of my dreams?"

Stop. Stooop~! Even Mordred who was seated on a cushion in the tent was growing red-faced.

Arturia's mind temporarily shut down. She was furiously beating away the urge to clap her cheeks and cover her face even as she desperately insisted to herself that she should focus.

She gave Shirou a stink eye that wasn't quiet a stink eye. It was halfway between pleased and 'praise me more.' What a vain feeling, but no woman would ever say it's unpleasant to be complimented by someone they cherish.

Shirou had been complimenting her every day ever since Tristan had got it into Shirou's head that a married man should know how to treasure and appreciate his wife…That man deserved a raise. She'd make sure of it.

It was in times like these that Arturia felt her life complete. Content. Memories of her youth and progression into adulthood, though filled with bitterness and regrets, still brought her joy as happiness existed in the end. The condition of her country was stabilizing; she married the love of her life; she'd even mothered two children of her own from the three that she wanted. She held such pride in them that not even Merlin who advised her to keep her enthusiasm under control could stop her from bragging about what great men and women they'd become in the future.

In any case, Shirou was never much of a romantic, but it was the subtle things that he did that endeared him all the more to her. Here he was now making space for her to sit in the middle of the tent where he and Mordred sat across from each other at a fire pit. He looked at her, and when he did, al that she could see was his devotion to her. This should have been enough to keep her from getting jealous of other women who flocked to Shirou, but romantic jealously was also something she wasn't used to handling as a Knight. She did not know what to do with the irritation she felt.

No wait, her thoughts were wandering. Although it was only natural for her to seek Shirou out for company, this wasn't the main purpose as to why she'd presently sought him out. She sat down on a cushion adjacent to Mordred and across from Shirou.

Immediately, Shirou offered her a drink from his waterskin bag. It was hot outside on the march, and if Arturia was being honest with herself, she was thirsty, her mouth dry. Leave it to Shirou to know when to offer her things that she needed. It was another way he could be romantic.

To know her as well as she knew herself were sure signs of a lifelong partner. Her partner.

She took the waterskin bag and took a sip, her eyes never leaving Shirou's as she relished in the unsaid sentiments of affection in the air. Her ears were reddened at the tips, and she felt heartfelt gratitude for all the blessings in her life. She grew wistful, wanting nothing more than to allow the moment to last and think of nothing else.

Focus. Focus girl.

This was dangerous. In giving up her responsibility as King to help Shirou manage the country as a Queen, she was becoming more human than a ruler, and humans could be selfish. Yet would that really be so bad? If asked now if she cared more for the kingdom or her family, she'd answer her family in a heartbeat. She didn't know if this was just part of her maternal instinct and a dragon's covetous nature, but if it was for Shirou or her children, many things she thought she'd never be able to sacrifice suddenly became dispensable.

Was she really fit for the position of the Kingdom's Queen? Only time would tell, but for now, she came to Shirou's tent with a purpose. Delaying matters would only make things awkward in the future.

Therefore, no secrets.

"Mordred isn't feeling well," Arturia said bluntly and without remorse as she handed back Shirou's waterskin pouch.

Mordred shot her a dirty look, before scowling at the floor. Shirou just blinked for a second before shifting his attention to Mordred who was making a valiant attempt at making herself look small and indifferent.

"I'm fine," Mordred said stubbornly, her mouth setting into mulish a frown. "It's nothing major, so please just trust me on this. The headache I have is going away on its own."

Silence. In this silence, Shirou was thinking while Mordred kept sneaking fleeting glances as if a child seconds away from being reprimanded for immaturity. Her hands were balled over her thighs from where she sat, her nervousness causing her to fidget ever so lightly at the slightest sound Shirou made.

In the meantime, Arturia sighed and simply waited. The more Mordred acted like she was in the wrong, the likelier it was that Mordred hadn't been completely honest with her about her condition the prior morning.

"Is it fine, or is it just tolerable?" Arturia asked. Distinctions had to be made to ascertain severity.

Mordred refused to answer the question and instead bit down on her lower lip. "What does it matter to me now? You've already told him." Mordred was being moody, her expression glum. If Mordred were any younger, it wouldn't be far off to say that she was whining or throwing something of a tantrum in retaliation for Arturia giving her up. As it was, Mordred was refusing to glance in Arturia's direction until her head had cooled down enough.

Arturia sighed. She decided to keep quiet and simply observe. This issue was something only Shirou had the right to resolve. Shameful as it was to admit as a blood relative, but she didn't know Mordred nearly as much as Shirou did to be able to get through to her. Being useful to someone you care for isn't all that matters when said person could care for your wellbeing just as much as you do theirs.

"Why does it matter? Of course, it matters," Shirou finally spoke up and addressed Arturia's previous inquiry. "If I was afflicted with an illness and stubbornly kept pushing myself, how would you feel about that?"

Suddenly Mordred was a loss for words, her eyes widening for a fraction of a second as she contemplated the scenario and grew apprehensive. "T-That's different."

"How so?" Came the patient reply.

"I-It just is alright!" Mordred gnashed her teeth and growled with a frustration directed more at herself than anyone else. She did not know how to accurately explain her stance on the matter and why Shirou's comparison was different. Regardless, she ended up saying something Shirou immediately found ridiculous a moment later. "Your life is worth way more than ten of mine so I just want to be useful to you and, and, and…" she was stammering before just giving up and trailing off rather than voicing her thoughts.

For once, Arturia noted that Shirou looked taken aback by Mordred. "You really think you aren't useful as you are already? More than that, you really believe that my life is worth more than yours? Well, you're wrong."

Here Shirou looked at both Arturia and Mordred at the same time. "My life or any of yours, no matter the situation, to me, I will always prioritize your lives over mine."

Mordred made something of a strangled chocking noise as her breath hitched in her throat.

Arturia's features sharpened at Shirou's declaration because knowing him, he was dead serious. This wasn't just about Mordred any longer. The glare that made its way onto her face was the exact representation of her anger. "Shirou you damn fool! You take that statement back right now!"

Mordred didn't say anything, but it was clear that she was on the same page as Arturia.

Shirou, ever complacent to Arturia's whims took a hard stance in this instance and maintained his stance on the matter. The three maintained a terse standoff with Mordred deflating first. The fact that Shirou had included her in his list of people he'd risk his life for honestly sapped away at her resolve to argue about the current issue.

"Thank you. I don't know what else to say." Seeing Shirou so stubborn, Mordred spoke out her current thoughts.

Arturia understood that she was fighting a losing battle with her husband and soon relented herself, but it didn't stop her from frowning while allowing Shirou and Mordred to finish their conversation.

"Are you really feeling okay or not?" Shirou asked to clarify.

Mordred seemed to hesitate at first, but she came clean a second later. "I feel fine, but the headache hasn't completely gone away. It just came so suddenly that I can't explain it."

"Was it magic related?" Shirou furrowed his brows and moved closer to Mordred to inspect her. If it was magic, he was sure that he could detect it, but he wasn't feeling anything off. Besides, it hadn't been that long since Merlin had cast his magic on them. Surely Merlin would have noticed something wrong with Mordred early on if it was magic related.

For now, it could just be a fever, but Merlin was still the safe choice. Not only was he a court Wizard, but he'd also dabbled in healing arts, something Shirou was not proficient with.

"Mordred, please just hear me out." Shirou came to a verdict in his head. "I won't lie. A part of me wishes to send you back because I'm concerned for your wellbeing, and not just me, a lot of people are." He leaned over and placed his hands over Mordred's shoulders, the two's gazes meeting eye to eye.

Shirou grinned lightly at Mordred before grunting as she froze up at his unexpected action. Though, the fact that she wasn't pushing him away meant his words must have been working, Arturia noted with thinly veiled interest. Was this how to handle Mordred? Be as direct as possible? Questions for later.

"The girl I met a long time ago at a smithy has matured," Shirou began in reminiscence. "From a Knight who tried to shoulder everything alone, she became a person who now has others to rely on to the point she worries them all with how brash and bullheaded she can be." Here Mordred grumbled inaudibly at the implication and the concern in Shirou's eyes, but the redness working its way up to the tips of her cheeks revealed her fluster at being indirectly called out.

"Mordred, you're irreplaceable just for being you. I thought you already knew that when you had promised me that you'd take better care of yourself and come to me if you ever have any problems. Was I wrong in my judgement?"

"No." Came the sullen reply.

"Good. Willingness to listen is a good trait to have." Shirou ruffled Mordred's hair until she began protesting and thwacking Shirou's hands away, a faint smile tugging at her lips from the lighthearted mood.

"You'd make a good King one day, or Queen. Your preference," Shirou soon said with a nod.

"R-Really?" Mordred seemed taken aback by Shirou's words, but Arturia noted that she just chalked it up to glorified praise until she wasn't able to dismiss it as such for much longer.

"Don't say you don't hear it in Camelot, Mordred. Voices whisper from the common folk and the Knights alike who've all seen the amount of effort you put into your duties and actions. They're recognizing you and seeing you for who you are. There are even some nobles who witnessed the battle of Gwent suggesting your right to Kingship."

At this revelation, Mordred grew genuinely alarmed, hurriedly waving her hands in front of her in denial. "I-I'd never-"

"Mordred," Shirou cut Mordred off, staring her dead in the face. "Don't sell yourself short. If you weren't capable of helping this country, then you would have never been able to wield Caliburn in the first place." To this, Mordred had no response. It was fact, not debate.

Oddly enough, after saying such words, Shirou moved away from both Mordred and Arturia in order to rummage through his belonging which he kept in a duffle roll at the far side of the tent. He soon took out a certain sword Arturia had gifted him since his inauguration as King. It was a sword passed down from Arturia's father himself.

"I've actually been mulling over this issue for a long time, but I'd like to entrust you with a more important mission." Shirou said to Mordred as he made his way back to his original spot. "It's not as dangerous as fighting in a war, but it's just as grueling all the same."

Neither Mordred or Arturia were listening to what Shirou was saying at first. Instead, their gazes were locked on the weapon Shirou was nonchalantly holding. Shirou taking out Clarent had immediately drawn both Mordred and Arturia's attention. Both understood what that sword represented; everyone in the Kingdom knew what that sword represented.

Clarent was the ceremonial sword inherited by Arturia who passed it down to Shirou in his Kingship. It represented the coming of peace, and was only to wielded when the time came that all the wars and violence across the land finally reached its end.

It was the symbol of an era of prosperity, and Shirou literally just crouched by Mordred's side and gently placed the hilt of the sword in her hands; cupping her fingers with his own to make sure that she had a good grip before he let go.

"This isn't exactly the strongest sword that I promised for you, but I hope it will be able to act as a suitable replacement for the time being," Shirou said absently.

Mordred had no words. In fact, she looked moments away from fainting while Arturia tried desperately to hold back her incredulousness.

"Shirou," Arturia spoke deceptively slow from her seated position, but her tone was anything but. "What are you doing?"

For a moment, Shirou didn't know how to answer due to the expression Arturia was making. One wrong word and Arturia would not take him causally giving out the Pendragon family keepsake lightly, but he stayed true to his decision as he'd been contemplating over the issue for a long time now.

"Mordred, I want you to take this sword as symbol of my authority as King, and return to Camelot to act as my temporary stand in," Shirou explained, causing Arturia's face to soften in realization. "We all know how the other Nobles are, and my absence may lead to a few questionable moves on their part. Merlin alone may be able to keep things together, but his influence as a court Wizard can only get him so far without forceful means."

"A proxy ruler," Arturia concluded. "Mordred holds an ambiguous status as a person able to wield Caliburn, and unlike me she's not yet clarified her intentions to the throne. She'd surely be able to keep the High-Nobles in line if she were around."

Shirou nodded while Mordred was still taking the time to process everything with a blank face. Slowly, almost robotically, Mordred looked from Clarent in her hands, then back to Shirou, then back to Clarent. "What the fuck?" She said eloquently.

"I believe in you, Mordred. Can you do this for me?"

It was a task personally given to her by the man she admired the most. "Well, ugh, when you put it that way, fine." Mordred rubbed the bridge of her nose with the back of her hand not holding Clarent. "I'll do it."

"Thanks," Shirou said. He wasn't saying anything more, but Arturia could see that the deciding factor that led Shirou into making such a decision was his concern for Mordred's wellbeing. She'd be safe in Camelot, and with Merlin around, the Wizard could deal with ailments magical or physical that Mordred was stricken with.

Shirou placed his index and thumb in his mouth, and whistled lowly. A minute later, and a shrunken down version of Efret's form entered the tent before perching on Shirou's shoulder. "Efret will act as your mount and escort you back to Camelot," he informed Mordred much to her weariness.

Efret thought it its duty to look out and train Mordred so the two shared something of a love-hate relationship. Mordred appreciated Efret, but she hated how Efret always tried to jump her in a bid to train her to always be at the ready. Considering the fact that the sides of her butt were exposed in her current attire, she'd be mortified if Efret got the drop on her and burned her butt cheeks.

Mordred glared at Efret, and Efret stared right back. However, the confrontation was momentarily put on hold as a messenger stopped outside the tent and called out with a strong voice.

"Is this the tent of Brandt Birger?"

Ah yes, the Nordic name Merlin had given for Shirou's use. 'Brandt' for Sword, and 'Birger' for One who helps.

"Yes indeed," Shirou wasted no time calling back and making his way towards the messenger.

Arturia and Mordred stayed behind in order to listen to what was being requested of Shirou.

"The generals ask that you walk around the camp to improve morale amongst the warriors," the messenger said. Knowing Shirou, he didn't refuse, and with a quick nod of farewell, he soon left.

Mordred was next to follow, prompted by Efret for her to mount on his back to begin the journey to Camelot.

"Take care," Arturia called out as Mordred left. For her part, Mordred didn't seem to hold much of a grudge for Arturia telling Shirou on her. The tiny "you too," spoken in barely above a whisper was endearing despite how standoffish Mordred generally was.

Now then, with everyone gone, what was she supposed to be doing again?

The sound of a woman clearing her throat prompted Arturia to stare at the entrance of the tent, only to see Natalie looking at her with an urgent expression.

"You are my lady in waiting, and I can't keep using the excuse that you're on break," Natalie said hurriedly. "We need to go now since I've been summoned to a general's meeting with Gale and Edgar."

Alright. Fine. Shirou had his role, and Arturia had hers. Arturia stood up from her seated position and took her scripted place by Natalie's side. From her experience in war, the Saxon generals were probably planning out how to go about this conflict. Rather than idly allowing them to make any planning errors, she'd use her experience to haggle herself into a position of command.

Let's see if she could make a difference.

Shirou had his tasks, and Arturia had hers, but in what world was she just supposed to sit down and look pretty while the man she cared for was being planned to be used as glorified pawn?

Apparently this one. She was smiling, but not actually smiling while doing her best not to act out on impulse. She'd learned her lesson the first time she'd let her emotions get the best of her and forced Shirou to mend relations with Camelot's trading partners. Before acting out, she had to consider the ramifications of her actions, and she was damn well trying.

Presently, she was seated in a command room beside Natalie with four generals including Gale and Edgar who were conversing with the other two men.

Arturia didn't consider herself the smartest of individuals, but it was clear as day that Natalie was only invited to the meeting for appearances sake. Gale was giving Natalie an apologetic look, while Edgar maintained a polite demeanor. The other two generals weren't as adept in concealing their thoughts on Natalie and Arturia's presence and acted as if they weren't even there.

It was the first time she had ever been treated in a war setting as just some wallflower, and it was highly disconcerting. She understood the principle behind their disregard as women weren't known to participate in war, but it didn't mean that she'd just keep still. Especially when she listened to the plan of one of the generals suggesting to front Shirou at the head of every battle and use his image to gather support from fellow Saxons. From a militaristic standpoint, it wasn't a bad idea. Morale was key in any war, and the more battles Shirou participated in, the more he'd become renowned. However, not all battles had meaning. In fact, some were just pointless and should be bothered with. Evidently, Gale and Edgar were of the same opinion, but she was the first to speak up, having had enough of staying silent.

"Might I interrupt here." It wasn't a question. She stood up and made sure everyone was staring at her. Gale had no problems with the arrangement while Edgar raised a brow. As for the other two generals, they looked disgruntled at her sudden interruption, but one word from their respective aides and they reconsidered voicing their displeasure.

It would seem the Saxon soldiers had long since picked up on the fact that she and Mordred had the same face. Reading between the lines, if Mordred was implied to be a Valkyrie, then what did that mean of Arturia?

The two generals were warned not to take the risk while Edgar simply remains curious.

Seeing that no one spoke up to oppose her, Arturia decided to say her piece and begin her operation to wrestle control of the army. Not only would it allow her to command warriors as she was used to, but it would better allow her to plan movements that could enable Kay and the reserve units to participate without their involvement being discovered.

Now, to prove herself.

"There is no point in empty victories," she began, her back straightening and expression growing stern. "So long as there's no purpose in victory, all battle loses its meaning. Therefore, the idea of fighting consecutive skirmishes with Brandt as the vanguard would only limit what we can do in a campaign."

Edgar and Gale nodded while the other two generals looked less skeptical than before. In fact, one of them had even sat up and showed interest in what could possibly be proposed. The answer did not take long for Arturia to give. She placed a hand over her chest and spoke as eloquently as possible. Hr training from Guinevere as a Queen and Noble Lady bore its fruit, and dignity exuded from her in waves. No matter the time, no matter the attire, the regality of an individual could not be easily masked. In this instance, Arturia even outshined Natalie, a Saxon princess.

"In war, everything is delegated by capability. This is the basis of ranks, but military power isn't everything. Wit is the strongest weapon in war on an even playing field." Arturia spoke with her experience in her five years ruling as King and facing off against the Saxons. "Even King Arthur with his Holy Sword could not end the war. A field commander is a Knight who knows of tactics to keep his unit alive, but it's a strategist that wins wars."

Arturia would have to apologize for quoting Agravain, but she had to admit that when Agravain spoke, no one dared speak back. This was simply because of Agravain's impeccable logic. He'd never been much of a Knight, but he was indispensable to Camelot as an administrator and tactical commander.

"If you're implying yourself to be a strategist, then what do you have in mind?" Edgar was the one to test the waters with a glint in his eyes. It took one second for Arturia to realize that Edgar and Agravain would probably be able to get along well with each other. No matter.

"Rather than fight battle after battle, target their logistics. I would first set up a scouting team to plot enemy supply lines and then decide the best location to strike," she supplied another of Agravain's insights.

Edgar actually looked impressed while Gale silently nodded. The other two generals no longer seemed opposed to Arturia's involvement and seriously began to consider it. Arturia's regal presence plus Agravain's wisdom was truly a difficult combination to overcome. This was further supplemented by her charisma which left little to doubt her. Edgar however was reading between the lines.

"By suggesting to us a method of action, are you implying that you wish to take command."

Arturia considered the question. In situations such as these where Edgar had directly called her out on her intentions, there was no use skirting around the issue as it would only hinder her efforts. "Yes," she admitted despite seeing a couple faces sour.

Edgar remained nonplussed while Gale nodded his support. Arturia noted that Gale seemed to realize something and looked sheepishly at her. It would seem that the man had finally connected the dots that she was the acquaintance he knew and not Mordred. Moving on, but Edgar continued to ask the hard questions.

"And who might you be, fair lady to assume command?"

Who would she be to assume command? Arturia noticed that everyone was looking at her now, even Natalie as Arturia was acting out of the planned script.

Arturia knew that she was going to have to improvise anyway, so she inwardly apologized to Natalie for leaving her out of the loop. Now that Mordred was sent back, it was unanimously agreed that someone had to take Mordred's role, and who else but Arturia?

With a thought, Arturia called upon the energy of her magic core, swaths of flickering blue energy bathing her form and rising up like steam. The sound of static echoed before she called upon her magic armour with practiced ease. It was different from the regal blue she wore as King Arthur, replaced instead with polished form-fitting silver. A mantle was billowing from the force of her magic energy, and she soon willed her energy to take on the shape of ethereal wings.

"Call me Hildegard." Her teal eyes shone blue in the limelight. "I will guide you to victory."

She who ferries the souls of fallen warriors surely possessed the right to lead them in battle. Hildegard, it was the Valkyric name of battle and glorious warfare.

A Battle Guard.

------------

The reeds upon Britain's hills and plains began to sway once more to the tempo of the beating leather-stretched drums. A messenger bird had just arrived in Kent and gave word to Horsa, the ruling King of the Jutes, that his niece has set her sights on his throne.

A formal declaration of succession had been made.

Rumours had it that Natalie's forces were being led by a Valkyrie, and spearheaded by a valiant Nordic Warrior, but no Saxon truly knew what to believe. However, they did know about the two leaders of the vying forces.

Natalie, Queen of the Jutes against Horsa of the Warrior Brothers, King of Kent.

The people would flock to Natalie, but Horsa had the loyalty of the warriors. The odds did not seem to be in Natalie's favour, but the Saxons would wait and see about which side to truly support.

Let the Saxon War of Succession begin.


PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES
Parcasious Parcasious

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious

Capítulo 87: Chapter 87 (Fate-In Time Side Story: Chaldea Alternative Records)

Lancer Arturia had lived a long life. From the start of her childhood, to the ruination of her reign as King Arthur, she'd seen and experienced many things. However, an emotion that compels her to forsake everything else just for the sake of one individual was a new sensation. Just as the iteration of the Arturia she had witnessed, she'd lived what amounted to a second life in her own world. Rather than just a repeat of the events that she'd been familiar with, everything became new upon the addition of a single man.

At first, she was somewhat averse to her Shirou. The notion of mentally being several years older than him had caused her to subconsciously put up a barrier that kept her from growing too attached to anything. What was the point when she knew who was likely to live or to die? In this case, she understood that her entire Kingdom and people had already once perished. What was to stop that from happening again? Of course, she'd do everything in her power to prevent this, but on the off chance that she failed, the mental barrier she'd erected could keep her sanity from breaking. It was the only defence she had, and that endearing fool had slipped right passed it as easily as piercing through wet paper.

She'd tried to keep him at an arm's distance, but his persistence and maturity slowly chipped away at her until she found herself thinking of him at each passing moment. Different from how others treated her, he seemed able to understand her on a fundamental level.

He could tell when she was frustrated, disheartened, or even questioning her own ideals. He always seemed to just look at her and tell if something was wrong. Again, and again, this happened all the way from her childhood to the present time. Sometime she even found herself question if she were the one who was mentally younger than Shirou. She didn't know when she began to realize it, but the distance she'd been trying to keep between them had become infinitesimally small.

It was in the minor things at first such as seeking him out for no reason, or growing irritated whenever Emily sidled up to him. Arturia knew she wasn't being fair to Emily as she'd agreed to support Emily's infatuation with Shirou early on, but everything reached a tipping point on the day Caliburn was drawn.

Lancer Arturia wasn't sure what happened with Saber Arturia on the day she pulled out Caliburn, but Lancer Arturia knew full well what happened to her at Merlin's meddling. In her Merlin's words "Your indecisiveness is annoying."

If Merlin caused Saber Arturia and Shirou to kiss on the day of Caliburn's drawing, Lancer Arturia's Merlin had to take it a step further to convince Lancer Arturia to stop fooling herself.

After Caliburn had been drawn, Merlin had knocked Lancer Arturia and Shirou unconscious with magic before stripping the two, burning their clothes, and then dumping them alone in a vacant brothel. Lancer Arturia had been the first to rouse herself awake, and she was stunned to find herself naked and lying on top of her Shirou. Their bare skin was touching such that if Shirou were awake, he'd be able to feel the way Lancer Arturia was heating up. It went to show the true extent of Lancer Arturia's feelings that her first thought upon waking up wasn't to cover herself, but to make sure that no one else was around to take advantage of her Shirou.

The realization was damning. She couldn't deny her feelings any longer nor keep looking for excuses.

For the first time in her life, she was in love. The barriers she'd placed on herself had shattered, but in exchange she was able to smile an honest smile she no longer thought herself capable of.

Lancer Arturia still vowed vengeance to her Merlin for that day, thought it was more out of embarrassment than real anger. In truth she was actually grateful as it helped sort out her feelings. Trust in Merlin to use the most unconventional of means rather than just doing things normally.

The point of the matter though was that Shirou had won her heart. The ramifications and possibilities of this event were just occurring to her now. How could she possibly be comfortable with Morgan taking Shirou away from her?

She looked down at her hands and noticed that they were trembling. She was nervous? No, she recognized this feeling from her childhood when she was still weak, feeble, and hiding behind Sir Ector's legs seeking assurance: She was scared, terrified even. The barriers she'd put in her current timeline were for her own sanity, and since her Shirou had slipped past them, something inside her would surely break if she lost him.

If this were true for Lancer Arturia, she could only image how it must be for her counterparts. The one thing in common between all of them was that they treasured their Shirous dearly. How could they not when everything Shirou ever did was for their sake since their childhood? To the Alters, this one point about Shirou had earned their affection. No matter what, if it was for their sakes, Shirou wouldn't hesitate.

By the time night rolled in to the dimension housing all the Arturia's, the air had grown somber.

None of the Arturias looked eager to sleep tonight and Lily was the worst. She looked terrible. Her shoulders were slumped, and her hair was a mess from wracking her mind for any kind of viable solution, but constantly failing. Bags had formed under her eyes and her desperation for help was all to obvious. Out of all the Arturias, Lily knew that she was the weakest, only slightly stronger than the Arturia of the main story.

The Alters had sat themselves closer together and each were in their own levels of brooding. For once Lancer Alter was far from composed. Behind her frigid expression, a flicker of anxiety was clear in her eyes. She'd always been decisive, and when she realized she loved her Shirou, she instantly moved to keep him by her side. They were engaged, set to be married by the end off the first campaign against the Saxons. Everything, everything, was hinging on this night for her. A life of contentment, or another life of bitter regrets. The same line of thought was true for Saber Alter.

The Alters knew that they weren't upstanding individuals. They had long since crossed the line separating morality and righteousness for the sake of their countries, and the only one that never shied away from them were their Shirous. He was truly one of a kind, the only of his kind that could ever love a tyrant.

Saber Alter clicked her tongue and balled her hands into fist so tightly that she drew blood. She couldn't lose him. Anyone but him. She had to be strong and repel Morgan using whatever method it takes.

Nearby, Saber Arturia paused and nodded curtly to Lancer Arturia. Neither said anything. In fact, none of the older Arturia said anything, as all of them shared the same goal in this instance.

They would stop at nothing to save their Shirous. Their experience was their weapon, their one defining factor that was different from the main Arturia of the story. However, of the Arturias present, there was one who could not hope to rely on such a means.

Lily was looking pleadingly one by one at all the other Arturias for any kind of suggestion or advice, but none including Lancer Arturia could speak out or meet her gaze. It physically hurt to look at her and know that there was nothing that they could do to help. They couldn't fight her battles, but they also knew that she treasured her Shirou just as much as they treasured theirs.

Lily's eyes were glinting in the light, misty and growing turbulent with unsaid emotions. Each Arturia flinched as Lily desperately walked over to them looking like she was on the verge of crying in her despondence.

None could meet Lily's gaze as none could give her a definite answer to defeat Morgan. Even the Alters who were stewing in their brooding became uncomfortable. Lily's vain attempts to seek aid from her elder counterparts was palpable in her growing anxiety.

"Help, anyone p-please..." Lily was reaching her wit's end, her voice sounding more like a whimper that had the other Arturias reeling. She was practically begging by this point. Lily swallowed audibly and finally let the tears drip freely down her cheeks. She'd not been able to think up of any plan, and that meant it was unlikely that she'd be able to avoid her worst-case scenario by doing anything differently. "I-I can't do this, and I don't want to lose him."

Silence. No words of comfort or reassurance would work here, as all knew that they would be lies. Lily sniffled and did her best to maintain a strong front. She looked at them with a weak smile that wasn't quite a smile. It was the most she could do before reaching a breaking point.

By the time that all the other Arturias managed to fall asleep, only Lancer Arturia saw Lily begin sobbing in despair. Something clutched at her heart, imagining herself in Lily's place. No, she would be in Lily's place if she lost her Shirou.

Sorry for not being of any help.

Lancer Arturia inwardly apologized much like the other Arturias before her eyes finally shut and she drifted to sleep.

-(Chaldea Alternative Records)-

Lancer Arturia opened her eyes to the world of her dreams. As she'd expected, she appeared in the time when she'd just been separated from Shirou and was on her own. If she followed the original script, then she was set to meet Fafnir before Shirou would have his confrontation. If anything, now was her time to prepare.

She considered doing everything similar to how she'd seen things go until the encounter with Morgan, but the risk involved in that venture was too high for her to attempt. No matter her skill, the limitations of her younger body were impossible to overcome. She was weaker, her Magic Core less attuned to her command, and to top it all off, Morgan had the element of surprise.

How was she supposed to defeat Morgan in her current state? She'd watched and seen it fail already. What was she supposed to do? Like Lancer Alter, she was the eldest of the Arturias present in the other dimension. Her life's wisdom was the highest, and she had to use that advantage to her benefit.

In the end though, she was coming up with nothing. It was why she couldn't help Lily in the first place. Just thinking about Lily right now caused a pang of guilt to well up inside her.

Lancer Arturia couldn't just allow herself to give up. Rather than proceed ahead through the tunnel she knew she'd meet Fafnir inside; she stayed rooted in place and began to think. If no solution worked to defeat Morgan, then she had to think outside the box. All possibilities should be considered, and it was precisely because of her age and experience that she soon stumbled upon an epiphany.

It was only tragic that she couldn't share this one idea for Lily's use. If only she'd thought of it sooner, but she'd underestimated her own aversion to even consider such an alternative. In her age, her unbending convictions had mellowed at the fall of Camelot. Morgan wanted Kingship?

Then she could have it.

The cogs of Lancer Arturia's mind began to spin, as her body took motion. From what she could recall, Morgan had made her entrance after dealing with Efret.

Lancer Arturia shut her eyes and began to focus on a source of energy that wasn't Shirou's or Fafnir's fighting in the cavern. Efret's energy signature was large and bright like an open flame. As she'd been acquainted with Efret for years, it didn't take her long to pinpoint its location, and the fact that it was clearly agitated.

Lancer Arturia inferred that Efret and Morgan were in the midst of battle. As much as the urge to help Efret surged from within her, she held herself back and waited. The moment Efret's energy dwindled would be the moment Morgan would make her way to the conclusion of the battle between Shirou and Fafnir. This was Lancer Arturia's chance.

No longer hesitating, she made her way to the cavern where Shirou was fighting Fafnir. Upon seeing her, Lancer Arturia could feel the sheer relief in Shirou's eyes. He'd always cared more about her safety than his, and that fact would hurt her all the more if she lost him. He was as devoted to her then she was to him. If he was willing to risk his life for her, then was willing to cast aside her own ideals and ambitions for him.

You mean more to me than anything else…I understand that now.

Love was truly irrational. Raised since birth to save her country, she didn't hesitate to cast it all aside. Calming the beating of her heart, she readied herself for what was to come. Shirou's fight with Fafnir went exactly as she remembered, but it ended faster this time as she didn't intervene.

By this point, Lancer Arturia was tense, her eyes darting back and forth as Shirou stood motionless in front of her and assimilating the Ashton anchor.

She reacted far before she could be restrained by Morgan's magic. She sidestepped and glared as soon as Morgan came within view, Efret dropped by her feet.

Behind her veil, Morgan was clearly frowning. Her cloaked figure was bathed in a light sheen of magical energy. "You always were a natural, aren't you little sister? To think you'd still be on guard moments after victory, but do you really think-"

"SHUT UP!" Lancer Arturia let go of the control she had over her emotions. Morgan prepared herself for battle in response, but failed to process the fact that Lancer Arturia had just thrown her sword away.

The sound of Caliburn clattering over the ground echoed throughout the cavern as the sisters looked eye to eye for the first time in years. It was surreal. The magic Morgan was channeling was temporally cut off in her confusion.

"I don't care anymore. Just take the throne," Lancer Arturia stated bluntly.

"…What?" Morgan looked genuinely bewildered at the statement, her lips pursing. "Do you think this is some kind of joke or that I'd believe any word you say? Moreover, do you think I need you to give me the throne? Right now, I overpower you."

"Yes, you do," Lancer Arturia said bitterly, her shoulders squaring before slumping. There was still the chance that she could defeat Morgan, but when it concerned Shirou, Lancer Arturia found herself unable to take the risk.

"…" Morgan didn't know how to respond, unable to understand what had brought about such change to Lancer Arturia. On one hand she'd get what she'd always wanted, but on the other, there was no satisfaction in making lancer Arturia feel the same anguish she'd endured as the neglected child of the family. As a result, Morgan didn't answer right away like Lancer Arturia hoped.

"Wasn't this what you wanted from the start?" Lancer Arturia pressed. She was growing nervous, beads of sweat forming over her brow as Morgan remained still. "You can have it, b-but leave Shirou alone," she gave out her one demand.

It was here that things clicked for Morgan and she began chuckling. "So, you knew my objective all along? Yes, today I came not for you, but for him. He will be far more than just a mere nuisance if I let him live."

"But there's no need!" Lancer Arturia argued, her hands growing clammy.

"Would you cry if he was gone?"

Eerie silence.

"…Morgan don't you dare go there." Lancer Arturia didn't know it, but her voice had shifted into a snarl to mask the panic she was feeling, but Morgan could see it plain as day.

Morgan's lips curled upwards, before she took a step towards Shirou.

"Morgan." Lancer Arturia's eyes narrowed fiercely. She put herself between Morgan and her Shirou. She was doing her best to keep her emotions under control, but images of Lily weeping kept coming to her mind which soon overlapped with herself. "I gave you what you want! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Her throat felt hoarse.

"Or what?" Morgan stopped directly in front of Lancer Arturia. She was within range for Lancer Arturia to grapple her, but it was naïve to think that Morgan would leave herself open.

"I'll sign a geis, alright! You can come up with the terms but leave Shirou alone!" Lancer Arturia conceded the most that she possibly could. From what Merlin had told her, a geis was a curse employed by magi that would force a magus to obey the terms of the curse's contract. The only requirement was consent, and right now Lancer Arturia was willingly consenting to it.

Morgan froze as a smile gradually crept up her mouth. "What if I give the condition that you are never to interact with Shirou again?"

Lancer Arturia's breath hitched in her throat, her eyes dilating as denial set in. No. No you can't do that to me!

Morgan watched the flurry of emotion that crossed over Lancer Arturia's eyes and finally obtained her satisfaction. She began to laugh, evidently elated when Lancer Arturia flinched. "Weell now, I find myself in a great mood, and so I won't be that cruel after you've already promised me the throne. Instead, here is my only condition. Should your Shirou ever show signs of opposing my rule, you will kill him with your own hands."

With a snap of her fingers, Morgan produced a film of magic stating her terms and waiting for Lancer Arturia's consent.

Morgan you! Lancer Arturia could clearly see this condition for what it was. A shackle using her own love to never plot against Morgan. If Shirou caught wind of her motives, he'd surely help her and that would be when the curse would force her to kill the man she loved. Yet did she have a choice in this case?

She looked to Morgan, then to Shirou, and then towards the offered magical contract. Morgan would just kill Shirou right now if she refused. At least this way, she could ask Merlin if there was a means to annul the agreement. To seek victory is to know when to step back.

Lancer Arturia raised her hand and consented to Morgan's terms.

"Good. Very good. I had not expected for this encounter to be so fruitful," Morgan gave Lancer Arturia a single fleeting glance before laughing and vacating the premise. "Till next time, little sister."

Lancer Arturia didn't bother with a response. Instead, after taking care of Efret, all of her attention fell onto Shirou as he collapsed on the ground after safely assimilating the Ashton Anchor. He was unconscious, but unlike the outcome of the main Arturia's storyline, her Shirou was safe.

Slowly, gradually, she moved towards him and reached for him with trembling hands. She cradled him to her lap, her hands wiping away the dirt and grime from his face, and not caring about the predicament she'd placed herself in.

King or not, she did not need the title. She could still protect her people as she was, but nothing was more important than the family she wished to start. Nothing was too big of a sacrifice.

From the bottom of my heart,

She leaned down and kissed Shirou softly on the lips.

I love you.


PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES
Parcasious Parcasious

P a treon. com (slash) Parcasious

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