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Entry tags:
[open/closed memshare TL catch-all]
Who: Gilgamesh + Others, Etc.
When: the beginning of human history
Where: ancient Sumeria but also the literal moon because that's we roll in Nasuverse
What: memshare event!!
Warnings: some could get nsfw so I will mark just in case
Open prompts will be linked here!
Open Memory: A Day in the Life, Featuring Gilgamesh and Enkidu
When: the beginning of human history
Where: ancient Sumeria but also the literal moon because that's we roll in Nasuverse
What: memshare event!!
Warnings: some could get nsfw so I will mark just in case
Open prompts will be linked here!
Open Memory: A Day in the Life, Featuring Gilgamesh and Enkidu
(closed to Hakuno and/or Saber)
[ i. days of uruk past ]
[ around the glass of this mirror, there are scattered relics of a time at the beginning of civilization; a shrub, the shed skin of the first snake, thinner than paper and more translucent, and cuneiform that burns brightly with the mana that was so abundant during the Age of the Gods. beyond the silvery ripples on the mirror's surface, the air is heavy with the weight of a legendary time.
sunlight suffuses over the cut stone of a massive ziggurat, though here it is viewed in partial: the mirror opens onto a throne room, presided over by a sitting King who looks thoughtfully at a stone tablet. beyond the throne and its white curtains opened far above, palm trees glow in the open air of this Sumerian city-state, the edges of their leaves whitened by the glaze.
welcome to a world of antiquity, the Age of the Gods. humanity is still moving away from its infancy, and the genesis of all possibilities begins with this era. in the shine of every surface is the last lingering echo of the fading gods' voices.
(and beside the King can be seen this lovely lady). ]
Hm.
[ he examines the inventory -- really, when you actually bothered to be responsible, it always seemed as if everything has to be numbered and taken into account.
was life not better in the earlier days? anyone close enough to witness this memory will realize that this is Gilgamesh at a... different, later stage of life than the prime of strength from which the Throne took him to create the Servant, or they will at least realize this might be an unusual iteration of Gilgamesh, because since when does Gilgamesh actually appear to be considering such mundane matters as inventories of sheep (since, after all, you too can understand the tablet in this dreamscape)?
his eyes continue to move lower, scanning the wedge script. ]
I have overseen the measurements and preparations of the Eanna Temple. [ this is, quite literally, the final page of Gilgamesh's legend in its original -- the King returned home to build the walls, to live and die as the first among heroes. ] And the grain has been prepared from the harvest.
[ -- the mirror ripples, the surface wobbly with the memory of something so ancient. a vast civilization lies in the background, unseen but perhaps felt. a little while later, the veiled woman departs with a small bow and a smile. in a world with only sconces, torches, and magic for light, the sky is impossibly blue-black, but spotted with white stars.
Gilgamesh rises, striding to the top of the grand stairway and overlooking the city.
his expression as he turns back -- to the one beholding the dream -- is fond, if still with a certain mischief that never quite seemed to abate. long ago, and yet here you are, where you probably should not be, viewing the solitary King, who still has a little knowing look. ]
no subject
She watches in silence, taking all of this in. It is Gilgamesh, of that she's sure, but a different Gilgamesh than she is used to seeing. Not the one from her own time or even the one she recognizes here. He seems... absorbed in his kingdom and its people. Ruling with thought as to the future of humanity. It is strange to see him so serious and involved in matters that she would have thought would have bored him or otherwise might have been considered beneath him. Stranger still to see him work in such close concert with a woman.
As it all begins to wind down, as he finishes with his place and his rulership for the day, she tries to step back, as if to recuse herself from the memory. As if she's seen something she ought not to have. Something stirs in her breast and she isn't sure what, only that it makes her feel as if something or someone has reached into her and squeezed. It is not unpleasant, but it is also strange and different.
Can this truly be the same Gilgamesh? ]
no subject
Would you believe me if I said I knew you would come here someday, Saber?
[ he looks sufficiently pleased, gesturing at the decorations and expansive throne room around them. of course, as he faces her, he removes that turban and the vest, beginning to slowly shed the symbols of another era -- not so unlike that snake who stole his immortality potion. there is something farcical about being here again, at this date and time, when this is not the time which corresponds to any summoning she might be aware of. but it is still a memory of his. ]
But I did not expect it to be so soon. Well, regardless, here you are. [ he looks at her almost warily; it does not particularly do for two Kings to expose such intimate secrets of one another's hearts, not when they are or were Servants, and not even with his ... particular interest in her. ] Perhaps that so-called mage of flowers sent you to this place, hm? I am given to understand he wanders through dreams --
-- ahahaha, obviously, I am simply teasing. Of course this is the mirror. But... you are here. Therefore -- [ his eyes narrow ] -- shall you come and see my Uruk?
[ he gestures for her to come a little closer -- a few steps and she can stand at the top of the staircase. she may see both the starlight and the city. ]
no subject
[ She says that with a bit of dry wit. She doesn't know if she would have ever come upon this memory if it weren't for this place or if she would have ever spoken to Gilgamesh again. Perhaps once their Grail War ended, they would never have encountered one another again. He glances around his throne room with a curious expression. Despite herself, she does feel a certain curiosity about this place and about how he has ruled. She had expected to find a tyrant, someone cruel and grasping and utterly indifferent to the needs of his people.
So far she has seen something else. She is not sure how far to trust it. ]
Merlin has nothing to do with this.
[ She says this quite flatly. She's about to continue when he makes his offer. Perhaps she shouldn't be so surprised by the offer and perhaps she ought to be more wary. She presses her lips together and folds her hands at the small of her back, her wings twitching. Oh yes, she has those. A pair of brown-black wings folded in tightly against her back. ]
I suppose I shall.
[ She strides forward to the top of the stairs, head held high and then pauses as she looks out over the city below. It is... beautiful, in its own way. In some ways it reminds her of Camelot, but is utterly different in so many ways. Camelot was a castle first, a city second. Uruk is a city. It teems with life, even now, the lights of fires and lamps dotting the streets. It is humanity in all of its glory. The walls ring all of it in and she can hear the buzz and hum of a city that is preparing for the evening and to sleep. The sound and smell rises up to meet her and her eyes widen in amazement.
This is a memory, of course, filtered through Gilgamesh's perspective. But it still sways her. ]
no subject
[ that is what happens, of course. no matter how great a King you are -- even if you are the first legend, and well, especially if you are the first legend, ultimately the genesis of legend, time still moves on. it gives way. Arturia was called the Once and Future King, but they have both been returning to so many times and lives. ]
Ah, but a story. That survives a long time. People come to believe in someone, and perhaps they become a symbol. People tell stories.
[ and incidentally, when Gilgamesh claims he knew he would see her here, he refers to his clairvoyance, of course.
... but most likely that is a tease. after all, this particular dream is that of a Witch in slumber in Aefenglom. still, the flow of time here has an unusual rhythm. ]
You are surprised I should be different than you expected? Ahaha. Saber, why should you be so? [ he tilts his head, looking at her curious, if (as ever) serious, reserved expression. ] As the linchpin of the gods and humans, why should I not embody all the possibility thereof? That was my destiny from the beginning.
[ though it would seem she still does not understand his legend. ]
no subject
[ She sounds sadder about that, but her loss is fresher. More raw. She has only recently lost and only recently tried to grapple with her grief and her self-sacrifice. Her martyrdom and her lack of closure. She tears her gaze away from the city below to look at Gilgamesh. Is her surprise so obvious? Or is Gilgamesh simply skilled at reading people? She's not sure if she likes either option. She takes a deep breath. ]
To be frank, I am surprised, yes. From what I knew, you seemed a tyrant, who cared little humanity or even his people. You were vain and self-absorbed and arrogant, preferring to indulge in luxury rather than rule wisely.
[ She frowns. ]
And yet in this memory, you rule as a wise king. You consider the supplies of your people, their well-being. I did not expect this from you, of all people.
[ She's not quite ready to apologize. ]
no subject
[ well... some. might debate that. circumstantially. but he has plausible deniability here, anyway. ]
But the progress of humanity itself... that is a different matter.
[ listen, there is a distinct difference in his mind.
she deflected from his mention of Merlin, but really, as Merlin himself would acknowledge, he and Gilgamesh have a certain similarity, namely that they are people who would oversee the continuation towards a certain result in humanity rather than participants in human life. they enjoy the pleasures occasioned by humanity. for Gilgamesh, of course, that means treasures. ]
I care for treasures. And who makes treasures? Humans, naturally. Therefore, is it so strange I should wish for humanity to succeed? Hmph, otherwise, what should I collect. Ah...
[ the stars are twinkling and the wind is stirring ever so gently. ]
But at this stage, I have collected all treasures. Soon, or what passes for soon in the span of a human's life, my vault shall be distributed, and all of the originals of the noble phantasms shall spread throughout the world and develop their own legends. Hmph, to think those mongrels eventually took my treasures.
[ and developed them, no less. ]
... ah, you still do not understand?
[ even for him, to explain the contradictions she may witness and his own contradictions are perhaps not so easy, but maybe she is beginning to grasp at his consciousness a little better. a very expansive consciousness it is, in fact (more so even than his vault). ]
I do not know how much time we have, but perhaps I may show you more. A glimpse, only for the King of Knights.
no subject
She's going to give herself another identity crisis at this rate. ]
So this is near the end of your journey; the end of your life and the beginning of so many other things.
[ She turns her gaze away again, brow furrowed as she considers. ]
...I will accept this glimpse, King of Heroes. If only so I may better understand.
[ And she wants to understand. He is, for lack of a better word, fascinating to her now. The more she learns, the less sure she is of her opinion. She takes a step down the first step and then another. Her wings spread slightly, unconsciously, threatening to catch the night breeze. ]
I had thought you would rage against the dying of your light. Fight it to your last breath. Perhaps I misjudged you.
whoosh, well, here you go!!
Of course, Saber. [ he tilts his head, looking over those wings. so Saber's body is continuing to change -- first the tail, and now these wings. what could it all mean? he leads her down the steps, and hey, he is not wearing armor now, so his footfalls on the stone are not nearly so loud nor so obnoxious. actually, Gilgamesh looks much softer. those cruel expressions have somehow relaxed, and that dangerous beauty has somehow attained a perfect easy-going irony about its own existence. ] Indeed, you do not know my legend! Hmph, yet you must. It is the first, and without me, even you, the one hailed as the greatest of Kings, the one some mongrels call superior ... in some eras... hm... should not exist.
[ that, at this point in his life, and seeing into the future, knowing what comes next -- that is the most he shall concede. ah, but he still does not know the conclusion of their story. but does Saber? they battled. who won? well, perhaps someday he shall learn. ]
To rage against the dying of the light? Indeed! Indeed! None raged more so than I! Rejoice, Saber! You have asked the question which holds the answers you seek to understand me.
[ see, here is the thing you may actually entirely forget about Gilgamesh if you only encounter his Archer (tyrant) Servant incarnation: his legend, the Epic of Gilgamesh, is a legend about an arrogant hero-king who is humbled
and because he was the most arrogant existence, and the most epic existence, the most un-self-aware existence, because he is a dual demi-god who was meant to be chaotic, when the descent into humility began, it too was the hero's descent. as he walks beside Saber, he opens a golden portal, revealing an orb which shows an image, and that ripples with this image and this audio as Gilgamesh holds it up in the air -- portraying the scene in full detail and depiction to Saber.
there it is. an entire life told in minutes, beginning with the defining moment of Gilgamesh's life: the loss of his friend, Enkidu, whom Saber will have seen here, and who she will see him holding in his arms there.. the entire story of how one existence became another. this failed god went on to become the one who loved humans. the truth is that the person almost all of them know, the hero they met through the Throne, was only the beginning of his existence, before the twilight -- for he wandered the whole length of his life after his friend's death, and that whole length of dejection, wandering, humiliation, loneliness, is obscured, hidden far from view. ]
Now do you begin to understand? I could never be as I was, again.
[ now... how will he justify the inevitable contradiction when they return to Aefenglom and the waking world?
... most likely, he will not. there are no paradoxes to the King of Heroes as an existence. ]
no subject
I do seek to understand, if only because without understanding I cannot fully grasp you or your actions.
[ And she does get a chance to see. A truncated version of his legend, played out from one of his great treasures. From the moment of Enkidu's death to the time when he becomes a wiser king, she is spellbound, held for a moment on the steps as they descend. Things begin to make more sense to her now. The arrogance and the cruelty and how it is so different from what she now sees. His encounter with death; with the futility of immortality. It all adds together. She thinks she know understands Gilgamesh better than she ever has and even thinking such a thing is deeply strange to her.
She never thought she would've wanted to understand him, let alone actually do it. ]
I... believe I see. That is only a few sparse moments from your lifetime, but... I understand. If only partially.
[ She takes a few small steps down the stairs, leaving him behind for a short while. ]
But I do not know if you understand. Or if I can make you comprehend.
no subject
her back, newly-winged, but with that same solemnity to the sharpness of her shoulder blades. his eyes trace up those shoulders, set with the weight of duty, up her neck and her golden braids. there stands Arturia Pendragon beneath the moon of Uruk, but this is the same pose she wore in Camelot. in life or at the edge of her forever-denied death, Arturia's posture never ceases to be that of a knight.
she wonders whether Gilgamesh can understand her. looking at her now, he thinks upon the life and the legacy of the King of Knights.
for their kind, time seems to be relative. this is not the first time he has found himself contemplating her in such a manner, but in a sense it is the first time: she is here, at the beginning of time, but at the end of Gilgamesh's era. so many times has he turned his gaze towards her, but always it has been through the lens of proprietary desire; so many times has he been sure that he could see what no one else could see about her, her own concealed impulses, and maybe he did see something there, but has he ever seen her fully? she must wonder if even now, having seen the deep, having attained the finality of human wisdom, can Gilgamesh finally see something more? it is a worthy question. it seems sometimes as if the universe made her selflessness in perfect opposition to him. even now, even at his last and best self, he is still pure self.
but he does look at her back, and he does review his own memory. ]
You are my opposite.
[ in some ways, at least. in some ways, they might be rather similar. but they are opposite where it counts. that is the conclusion, and -- ]
I was made apart from both gods and humans. You are a human who became something else.
[ Gilgamesh's journey finally brought him into contact with his own humanity, but Saber's journey took her away from it. when she pulled the sword from the stone, she became a symbol to the people.
but ... perhaps there is something else. perhaps there is something more he has not been seeing, and perhaps it is how even now for her to see it.
the mirror of the dream ripples and a comet shoots across the dark curtain of the heavens; in this magical world, the Gate opens before Saber, with Gilgamesh watching from behind. this time, the treasure, the magical orb, shows another image: Camelot, the fortress city. ]
I lived in luxury and battled all the evils of the world. I opposed the gods and stood with humanity against them. [ Still speaking, Gilgamesh does take a step forward, though he is mostly content to linger behind her. They are making their way into the streets, and all around them, Uruk slumbers. ] You killed more men on the battlefield than any man, but never with malice. You never hated your enemies, the Saxons. You only wished for a paradise where people would not live in fear.
[ Camelot shielded the people of Britain from the invaders who came across the sea. it was always Arturia's dream, the dream of the King. the whole scene is tinted with nobility: the nobility of the nights, the dreams of a people who came together under the banner of their leader. but what did those shared dreams mean? had her knights loved her, even when they betrayed her? had she loved them? when Arturia led them through countless battles, taking countless lives, purpose had always driven her blade. her ideal for a better world had guided each blow, no matter how bloody, and how matter what loss she took or what pain she endured. ]
You lived in a fortress city among knights who dreamed of paradise. [ the true name of her final Noble Phantasm -- but that... remains something even he has not seen, the final page of their story in some other place. ] You are unable to live as a human because you can only think of dreams of paradise, though your Avalon is outside of time, and so is that Grail you chase.
Still... [ oh-so-briefly, his expression darkly flashes back to a steely sneer, like the one she has seen before, before softening again, though now it's just the look of confidence in this assessment. ] I think you are the most human woman I have ever met.
no subject
She pauses in her stride, only half-listening to him. Her wings flutter slightly and settle as something occurs to her. She still lived when she made her deal with the World. Perhaps that explains some of her own attitude and her own ability to change. Is he held like an insect in amber? She cannot truly hate the Gilgamesh she faced in the Grail War, not now. No, she pities him, for not being able to move beyond his anger and grief, trapped in that moment where he must surely be reliving some of the worst parts of his mortal life.
She, herself, is (was) trapped in her own thoughts. A cycle of grief and anger and determination to make up for all of her failures. Something she still grapples with, even now. Even with people pushing her to move beyond that, to find something to take up anew, it still strains, it still tugs, it still weighs her down with the weight of it. It is not an easy task and one she has undertaken only reluctantly. Is it harder for him? And if so, does being present in the city of Aefenglom make it possible for him to alter his future and his destiny? ]
I am human. Was human. Even in life, although touched by destiny and powers beyond me.
[ She sounds thoughtful as her gaze turns to the display he puts before her. A vision of her own story and the sight of Camelot almost makes her flinch. It is still raw and fresh, even months later. She does not turn to regard him, but rather listens and watches. ]
That is still my dream, King of Heroes. I still wish to build a paradise. I still wish to help, to make a better world, although I failed my own dream and my people. I cannot let go of it so easily. I still reach out for it and you know why. You know that it cannot be cast aside so easily. I have endured pain and hardship and yet... I cannot bring myself to abandon that dream.
[ She shakes her head. Even if her dream has turned darker and - for a time - her dream was instead to build the paradise on her own bones; to erase herself entirely so that someone else could give them paradise in her place. She still toys with that thought, but with the Grail beyond reach, it is a more distant one. An impossibility. At least for now - although Hakuno has done her best to help her understand why she ought not to chase it in that fashion.
He calls her "human" and that makes warmth creep up into her cheeks. Why so? And why from him? She refuses to look at him just yet, hoping to hide the trace of pink that threatens to come into her cheeks. The most human woman he has ever met. How does she take that? How does she understand that? A puzzle to unwind. ]
I will take that as a compliment, Gilgamesh. And I think you meant it as one. I set myself apart from others, I cut myself off from humanity and my people because I needed to be perfection itself. To be the wise, distant king and to avoid letting my own heart make decisions that might lead them into harm's way or into ruin.
[ Her shoulders untense, bit by bit, her head bowed forward slightly. ]
You know all this.
[ She takes a breath, decides on something. ]
Let us return to the mirror. [ She flexes her finger against her side and makes another decision. ]
You showed me this; I owe you something I return. [ To frame it as an exchange - that is how she manages it. ]
no subject
it is true that she is beginning to understand him: the Gilgamesh she knows, the Servant Archer, represents the King of Heroes at the prime of his strength. when he went to the Throne, he was reset to that prime. whatever humanity existed for the demi-god King was burnt away, leaving only this spiritual core, an imprint of extreme arrogance, an existence who knows no fear of death, frozen before he has attained any sense of caution or humility or humanity, a man who collected all treasures and believed himself capable of all things.
if she thinks the Gilgamesh before her is an exact opposite, that is not the case: he is still Absolute, only whereas his extreme nature was once directed towards empowering only himself, he now views empowering his kingdom, empowering humans, as the mark of his pride. the future he creates and passes on is his legacy as a hero, but Uruk is still his legacy. he has simply learned how to transform his selfishness into a heroic form of opposition against the powers that would shackle humanity, namely the gods themselves. and once again, there is another key difference between them: Gilgamesh does not, now or ever, hold regrets. he speaks freely of his own foolishness in pursuing immortality, but the story ends with laughter, not sadness. so what if the Throne of Heroes should reset him? there would be those in the future who would need the might of the King of Heroes... such as Hakuno.
... well, given the corrupt Grail and the problems of the modern world's incompatibility with Gilgamesh, Saber in Fuyuki had also gotten a particularly raw deal on Gilgamesh's, all things considered.
for some reason, as Arturia speaks, she does not turn to face him, but hearing those words, spoken in that cadence -- the voice of the King of Knights -- he feels a low, warm amusement. he almost thinks he can imagine the rays of the sunrise falling over her shoulders. he had scoffed at her, mocked her ideals, and tried to destroy that dream; her dedication to something so far beyond herself had amused and intrigued him, but looking at her then, he had not been able to believe in anything so idealistic. it was a mere absurdity, when only he was a hero capable of rising to such heights. looking at her now... ]
The world is still my garden, King of Knights.
[ he returns to it again and again, immortal through summonings. he had explained this to Hakuno.
ah, but Aefenglom -- yes, that is an unexpected outcome. the results remain to be seen.
Gilgamesh closes the distance between them, standing at her side. ]
As to the matter of paradise ... let us simply agree that humans do best when they, when we, strive for something.
[ that is not necessarily to concede that he now agrees with all of her ideals, only that they at least have this one view in common. and that ... that is why she fascinates him, and why she always has, even if he is often too cynical to believe in those things she says. still, looking at her now, at the King approaching the distant dawn, he almost thinks that even he, the King whose own vision is too Absolute to see anything whatsoever beyond himself, can almost imagine the distant white-gold brightness of the island she dreams of. ]
Very well. On my honor as King, I shall agree to hear you this time, Saber.
no subject
It has hard not to think of what happened to Lancelot and what he ended up becoming. Her knights at Camlann. Mordred.
Mordred, she thinks, is likely one of her own largest personal failings and yet it cannot be changed.
She has a life here, though. Aefenglom has made her human again in all too many ways and she is still adjusting. She makes a noise, low in her throat. The world is his garden? Perhaps, but-
He refers to himself with the rest of humanity. That little word - we - causes her to look at him with something like curiosity and perhaps even shock. She has never heard Gil place himself alongside other beings, let along the great mass of humanity. She has only known him to lord above them all, to regard them as amusing or useful, but rarely (never, honestly) has she heard him place himself alongside them in their struggles. In that moment, in the dim light of the moon and stars of the memory, she sees the wise, noble king he had become at the end of his legend and her heart feels like it might burst. She's overcome with something, an emotion she cannot describe and she turns away after a long moment, unsure of how to describe the warmth in her chest. ]
I would agree. To keep fighting to a goal, even if that goal is unattainable... it is something that humanity does well. To believe in something greater than one's self, to have hope, to believe...
[ She glances down at her hand and flexes her fingers absentmindedly. Can she still do that? Does she still do that? Can one who has come close to losing all hope for a better future still fight for it? It takes her a moment, but she straightens and sets her shoulders. Resumes the mantle of her title, eyes gleaming in the starlight. ]
And it is we who inspire them to do so. That is our duty and our privilege as kings. [ She thinks she understands something now. ]
Even if we fall, it is our legends that allow those who come after to rise up and follow in our footsteps. [ There it is again; that pride and that voice that must have commanded the adulation of her subjects. ]
Come with me, King of Heroes. [ The dream fades around them; dissolves until they are again in the Mirrorhouse, standing before her own. It is deceptively simple; silver gilt with gold, engraved with knights and waving banners. Set at the top is a depiction of the red and white dragons, locked in mortal combat. The prophecy that foretold her coming. ]
I do not know what this will show you. I doubt I can control it.
no subject
minutely, the sharpness of his usual self returns. the shift is nothing especially overt. he makes no thunderous speeches. it is simply the flintiness in his expression and a certain distance that falls silently between them, a curtain between the King of Heroes and the world, one Saber should recognize all too well from the other side. still, his expression is calm, and he carries no weapons. he looks downright casual in this setting.
Gilgamesh blinks, tilting his head and smiling so familiarly at Saber. ]
If it is you, it is certain to be a worthy show, hm?
[ his voice has that little edge to it again. the softness, the world-weariness from before, has disappeared. he is himself again, perhaps a little disoriented from the dream, but in the mode of his strength and prime, in the mindset he was at the time of their meeting in Aefenglom.
he looks up at that banner. Pendragon, hm? deep within Saber, there exists the spirit of a dragon -- the symbol of her power, her rule. Gilgamesh regards the icon in silence, letting her words wash over him. so this is Saber when she puts aside that obsession with the Grail, perhaps? is she finding her own path as king in this new world?
Gilgamesh follows her silently, wondering what he shall behold in Camelot, that fairy land of dead dreams. ]
no subject
I believe it may very well be. Although perhaps that will depend on my audience.
[ Then she turns to reach out and touch the mirror. It ripples for them and then the world shifts again and they stand in a field of grass; a stone is set in the middle of the field and above them a blue sky. In the stone is a sword. Not Excalibur, but another one. The first one. Caliburn. Saber takes a slow, deep breath and then takes a few steps forward.
This is familiar. A moment set in her memory. ]
The beginning of it all.
no subject
[ -- what can Gilgamesh say that has not been said already, that even he has not said already? the King of Heroes can almost imagine Merlin standing behind Arturia, telling her to extend her hand, to take hold of Caliburn. it is there before him, the moment of Saber's choice.
Gilgamesh never had such a choice, did he? or, no. that is not precisely correct: Gilgamesh was formed in Ninsun's womb for a specific purpose, to oversee humanity and act as adjudicator. that had been decided for him as destiny before the moment of his birth. but he could have abandoned his destiny, and indeed, even with that role before him, he still ruled as he pleased.
in that sense, Saber is still far more burdened by her role, by this sort of unfortunate fate she has taken upon her shoulders. ]
Something that is as far behind you as that kingdom and that ziggurat are behind me, hm, Saber?
[ it's only a little nihilistic. but you know. in a mostly positive way. Gil has got this. ]
no subject
[ She didn't pass from this life. Not quite. She watches the waving grass and then her younger self appears and begins to stride toward the stone, followed by Merlin. They speak and Saber closes her eyes to listen. ]
Arturia, you should carefully consider this. Once you take that sword from the stone, there's no going back. You will no longer be human.
[ That's Merlin. Her younger self pauses and then replies. ]
No, if I can make people happy with this, I'm sure it isn't a wrong decision.
[ And so saying, she steps forward and grasps the hilt of the sword. It comes free with the lightest of tugs and her younger self lifts it to the sky, letting Caliburn gleam. It is done. ]
no subject
Ah, so this is it: the moment when Arturia chose to become King of Britain, the very instant when she placed upon her shoulders forever the burden of a people, their hopes and their dreams; here, as she grips the hilt of this blade, as she holds it before the sun with such intensity and purpose, her body has already been forever altered. So brilliant does this woman appear, sword held high above her head, and such greatness she shall go on to achieve, and yet never once did she think of herself. She did not hesitate whatsoever, not even when given such a warning.
There is much that Gilgamesh could say in response to the vision before him. The tale, and its eventual outcome, is certainly one he has mocked, laughed at, and altogether scorned. Watching now, Gilgamesh's expression might appear to have a certain sort of blankess, an emptiness, or rather one might say his thoughts have receded into unfathomable depths.
He is silent for a long while, unsmiling. ]
Do you still believe that?
[ -- after everything they have discussed, this point remains difficult to ascertain. just how has she reconciled her own regrets with her rule, hm? Gilgamesh's eyes linger on the young girl, the King whose body would never grow, blessed and cursed by the fae themselves. ]
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[ That is her answer, unwavering. The dream has started to fade around them and she turns to regard him with a face as schooled as she can make it. ]
I did not believe that, for the longest time. I still have so many regrets. But I cannot believe that all that I did was for nothing. That is my answer; I still believe in that ideal and I always will.
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there is some part of him, even now, the part of him which thrives naturally on crueler impulses, which cannot help finding her downfall beautiful. if only human empathy were easier for either of them, hm?
ah. but then, as Gilgamesh himself has acknowledged, Saber is quite empathetic. that cold face of hers which so intrigues him is merely a mask to her own hidden and human warmth. is that how she now perceives him? it is somewhat more complex than this for Gilgamesh. half-god, half-human, watcher of humanity, and unevenly balanced in attributes.
well. they might have certain similar attributes in loneliness, in isolation. but one of them is rather more feral. ]
And that Grail you seek? Do you continue to obsess after it now? Do you continue to think only of undoing yourself, Saber?
[ for even now, she dances around this point.
they are standing in the Mirrorhouse, in the gloom of the night and moonlight. another night together, the sequel to the Full Moon. and yet here it is a calm, sleepy, dreamy darkness, facing Saber as if they were at their prime once more, standing across from one another like this. ]
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She isn't used to being a person. ]
I do not.
[ It's a half truth. There are still days where she wonders if she would take the Grail if it was offered to her. There are still days where she wishes she could undo it all. It hasn't turned off. It hasn't gone away. But she's better. ]
But I do not know what my end will be. Not yet.
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yet it is quite different, is it not? Saber is a selfless King, one who objectifies herself and takes on a title and status for a purpose; for Gilgamesh, on the other hand, he is the epitome of the self, always pursuing whatever pleases him, whatever he takes his pleasure from. still, in that very respect, and in the purpose for which he was created, the King of Heroes is likewise inhuman and unpersoned within his own station. he remains an anomaly, even here. out of place and out of time. ah, yet every time and place is his. ]
This is not such a bad place, is it, Saber?
[ for a certain value of post-apocalyptic. it's deadly, but almost charming. he finds things blooming in him a little, here.
ever-so-slightly, in any case. ]
Heh. Hm. But it is best you return to bed, is it not? And I, as well.
[ he closes one eye, winking at her. the gesture softens his expression somewhat -- a little closer to what she saw in his dream. ]
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It... is not a bad place, no. It is not where I would have chosen to arrive, but that is beyond my control, just as my arriving in the Grail War was beyond my control.
[ She shifts her weight a little to look at him more directly. The wink makes her blink in surprise. Is he trying to be... charming? ]
We don't control these dreams, Gilgamesh. So I suppose we will return to sleep or to wakefulness as this magic dictates... but perhaps it is that time for us.
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or something.
he just laughs. ]
You are so literal, Saber.
[ was there anything in what she has just said that is not stating the obvious? her penchant for doing so is... well, there should not be anything remarkable about it, but there is a sort of obliviousness about her, a lack of guile; she is noble and innocent in a foolish way, but -- ]
It is this contrast which intrigues me, I suppose. I cannot think of myself seeing the world as you do. Simply, there is no playfulness to you.
[ ah... yes, that's the nicest way he can put it, isn't it? Saber will become defensive against if he implies that he desires her for her innocence -- but if he negs her about how she needs to open up more and have fun... well, that's a more harmless topic. she might become defensive, but having seen him at that cafe, she might even acknowledge she could take more to the pleasures of this world, as she is already doing. ]
You see, if you trusted me more, I am a King who knows all pleasures. We could find entertainments in this world during the moments when there is not a battle. What would be the harm in such an outing? Were there not already prior encounters?
[ eating together, battling alongside one another... the cat cafe, and of course the Full Moon. when one thought of it in those terms, there were many instances of them coming together, only always with some aura of hostility. and perhaps they even preferred that. Gilgamesh himself is very particular about how he sees his own companions, as all know, and it would not do for Saber to seem too much like a friend or a Master, not even when she is another Servant. yet perhaps unconsciously, he had ceded a little more to her than he had intended, even in his own possessive attractions. ]
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I do not indulge myself, King of Heroes. You know this. That is my own choice and my own decision. Whether I choose to be playful or not... that is none of your concern.
[ She frowns, just a little. ]
I do not know what 'entertainments' you wish to enjoy, but my own tastes are simpler and I do not know if we would be a good match in that regard. Especially as you are now.
[ Which is to say: very much Gilgamesh. ]
We may be able to tolerate another at this point and we have a common foe... but you continue to play the part of an arrogant ruler. Or at least maintain some arrogance. You require humbling, King of Heroes - or a better understanding. That seems to be what brought you around before.
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[ he just lets that roll off him -- at least outwardly.
Saber's continual moralizing does test Gilgamesh's patience. there is a part of him which feels angry at her self-righteousness; there is a part of him which feels tested by her very demeanor, and he bristles at it. but he is also all about image, as untouchable as gold and as cold. so his expression shifts are minimal. ]
Ah, Saber. Could it not be that you yourself are beholden to some of the same faults you see in me? Arrogance? Presumptuousness? It is simply of another sort.
[ he wonders if she shall deny that -- to think, mere moments ago, or what seemed to be moments ago, the two of them seemed to be achieving some modicum of understanding; Gilgamesh has not forgotten that, but the fact remains that he is who he is, and she is who he is.
when he spoke of pleasure, for example, he said nothing untoward. she merely assumed it, as is her way, suspicious woman that she is. just how is that to lead to the understanding she imagines to be possible? but then again, he is not a man to beg; he is a man to take, so perhaps Saber is correct to distrust him. indeed, whether he meant harm originally or not, such a reply inspires anger towards her and a desire to hurt her anew for daring to perceive hostility in his words.
yet Gilgamesh is not one to correct her biases nor shame her for misconstruing a man's words. to do so would be again to acknowledge too much investment in a matter so clearly beneath him.
so he simply turns to leave. ]
But you are correct, Saber. [ he laughs. ] Nothing has changed. And when this world is settled, you shall be at my side forever.
Farewell, and sweet dreams, King of Knights.
[open]
[ ii. even more days of uruk past (the prequel!)
strewn around the glass of this mirror are the blue petals of ancient flowers from the Cedar Forest of legend. the mirror has a fine layer of dust around it. the feeling evoked by the dream playing out within is wistful -- ultimately happy, but tinged with that bittersweet sensation of bygone days: and bygone they are, for this is once again Mesopotamia, one of mankind's earliest civilizations.
one who approaches this dream will witness the King's great ziggurat and the city of Uruk. as the dream continues to unfold, the setting flashes in and out of the darkness. eventually, it settles. this dream is blurry-edged, as dreams tend to be, but soon the quiet dream cityscape of Uruk is teeming with people; the initial dream silence steadily becomes the sound of a crowd, a murmur of voices at a market, and the wind over the arid steppe. the sunlight is bright and the day is warm, so warm that even the dream onlooker can feel it.
if any viewer of this dream happens to know Gilgamesh from his reputation as a tyrant-king, or a particularly and uniquely impossible Servant in Grail Wars, the vision of him here could not be more different. the only similarity is that he continues to surround himself with splendor, but as he walks through the streets with his friend and (in her second dream cameo) a certain veiled, pretty woman, Gilgamesh looks far happier, even at ease.
certain threads of conversation in the dream may be more difficult to distinguish than others, but if one continues to watch, they will see that the King of Uruk is speaking to his friend about some manner of meat being proffered by a street vendor -- ]
-- it is of exceptionally good quality.
[ the vendor, pleased at receiving the attention of the King, eagerly hands over the samples. the mystery meat is long, stringy, and skewered like a kebab. ]
Though, as I am the only one who possesses the license for hydra preparation, it was necessary for me to oversee the foundation of this industry. Yet it remains niche. It seems as if even my people are behaving as mongrels who only wish to drink beer and eat familiar fare.
[ such as mutton, which Shamhat and Siduri have been plying Enkidu with.
anyway, Gilgamesh shakes his head, though he seems to be considering everything. ]
Tch. Can no one with an adventurous spirit be found in my own kingdom? [ beside Enkidu, Gilgamesh looks as disappointed and perplexed as a child; he was so certain that financing this hydra meat industry was going to be a big hit among his people!! but no one seems to have his zest for living on the edge. ] Ahahaha, yet, it is no matter.
[ this is still Gilgamesh at the height of his power, and even if he looks almost vulnerably human in his excitement about something, he still has virtually never-ending wealth and his sense of responsibility has... not quite culminated fully, yet. ]
Enkidu, you must sample this dish. The meat of a beast so deadly that one drop of poison should kill us both if the might of our stomachs is not sufficient to the task of digesting it -- naturally, what more exhilarating entertainment can a man have in a meal?
[ and Gilgamesh is just holding that mcfucken skewered hydra-hell-kebab up with the happiest puppy expression, looking so eagerly at Enkidu, whose expression is one of perfect camaraderie. ]