middaeg | Don't fill your mouth with gluttony, for pride will surely swell [semi-open]

As if you could beat me.

[ Now is really not the time to get into a pissing match like this. It's a meaningless fight, one of pointless pride. Berserker glowers for a moment longer before he folds his wings back again. ]

... You have no reason to care about my well-being. I'll question that again. Just because I live in your home doesn't mean I need to be your problem.

[ Defeated. He can't understand why someone would care about him -- he doesn't understand why Diarmuid cares for him and he certainly can't imagine why Ozymandias would, either. At least Diarmuid had the excuse of being bonded to Berserker -- the Rider before him didn't. ]

Were you not a false king, you would understand immediately and not waste my time with such questions.

[Not a false king and not someone still so new to what pieces of emotions appear to sometimes cut through the coldness within his eyes. But Berserker cannot help who and what he is. Ozymandias realizes this. Which doesn't make it much easier to deal with (certainly not calmly), but as Berserker backs down from his goading, Ozymandias demonstrates a greater willingness to explain.]

This home is not as vast as Ramesseum Tentyris let alone the whole of Egypt, but it is mine. Any that might reside here now or in the future are either mine or my guests, but regardless, I am not a king who would not protect his people from harm.

[He rests his weight back on one foot, cocking a hip out as he folds his arms.]

In your case, Berserker, it quite unfortunately happens to be your own stupidity and stubbornness that would do you harm.

[ A false king...The judgement didn't sting because it was true. He never wanted to be a king nor did he have any right to be one. The title and responsibilities were forced on him by one selfish woman. Berserker grows silent and discomforted by the emotions rising in him. Bitterness at his own existence and the circumstances of his summoning, irritation and anger at the role he was made to take...Combined with his exhaustion and injuries, these feelings are only magnified.

Berserker averts his gaze, his expression hardening. ]

I do what a Berserker is supposed to do...but I survive against all odds. [ His voice is uncharacteristically soft. The bitterness is overwhelming, seeping into his tone, though he spares Ozymandias the venom. ] I will continue to survive with or without your intervention.

[ Claws dig into his palm as he clenches his fists. Resentful thoughts torment him now and he can do nothing with them. Resting now would be pointless with the turmoil in his mind. But it would get Ozymandias to leave him be. The tension leaves him as quickly as it came, his shoulders drooping just slightly. ]

Fine. I'll rest.

[Ozymandias watches the emotion move through Berserker, the way it alters his expression, shapes his voice, and then eventually leaves him once more. It needn't be bonded to the other Servant to recognize that bitterness and resentment to his own existence. It's always been there after all. Bonding with Diarmuid has simply made it more impossible for Berserker to ignore.]

[As unfortunate as it is, he doesn't pity Berserker. If there is the capacity for that bitterness then there is a capacity for something to change if he can learn to want it enough. Ozymandias isn't foolish enough to believe that he can become who he was supposed to be, but that does not mean he cannot become something else. Something more than what he has been since he was selfishly wished into existence.]

[When he concedes and his shoulder droop, only then does Ozymandias move out of the way.]

Go on then. I will be in in a few minutes before seeing to Arthur in the Coven.

[Then if he wants to disobey Ozymandias and sneak out, he may. But until then...]

[ Berserker brushes past him without another word. The emotions stirred up in him are in too much to bear, but he can do nothing with them. He doesn't know how to deal with them, so he chooses to ignore them instead. It just makes him feel worse, of course.

Once alone in his room, he strips out of his armor and most of his clothing, leaving him in just his tight pants. The extent of his injuries are even more visible now: bruising and cuts, both shallow and deeper, and small scrapes here and there. They're painful, certainly, but that's a pain he knows how to deal with.

Berserker sits in silence on the edge of his bed to wait of Ozymandias, elbows resting on his knees with his hands clasped. His head lowered, he doesn't exactly look like the cold, intimidating beast people fear. No, the Mad King is exhausted and broken inside, unable to understand why he feels this why or even how to begin dealing with it. An unwilling king with a broken crown. ]

[He doesn't watch Berserker go, remaining where he is until Ozymandias hears him make enough progress that he's likely almost if not already in his room. Once in the kitchen, he pulls down a tray and necessary dishes. Ozymandias has no skill to speak of in the kitchen, but he doesn't require it. With a little bit of spellwork, he's able to conjure a suitable meal. It takes a few tries for the date bread to manifest correctly with warmth, but it's a simple enough spell that the rest -- some fish and vegetables -- comes together easily enough. (He tests the rejects and only needs to toss one out, the flavor being somewhat off and unsatisfactory.) He doesn't bother with a glass of water, opting instead to pour some wine from a bottle he opened the night before.]

[What he finds when he brings the tray to Berserker's room... It feels somewhat like a breaching of the other Servant's privacy, a thing that should not be witnessed. Not even by someone entitled to all things Ozymandias is. It's not the plain display of his injuries that gives rise to this feeling of intrusion. Although they would likely appear painful on another's skin, they seem commonplace things on Berserker. No more than decoration in a similar vein as his tattoos.]

[It's how...small he seems. Not physically, of course. Even somewhat slumped over like he is now, Berserker continues to take up an inordinate amount of space physically. But without his cold distance, his apathetic approach to merely fight until finally, his body breaks, there seems to be so little of him. And what little there is seems quick to shrink and evaporate. It's not something that one would wish to display. King or not.]

[Ozymandias shrugs the feeling aside, clearing his throat loudly to announce his presence before stepping further into the room and placing the tray on the bedside table. As he sets it down, he says,]

Even if you won't do me the courtesy to eat the food I've prepared for you, spare me any complaints that you're not hungry. [He moves to stand before Berserker.] And at the very least, don't let my wine go to waste. You've clearly fought well. You may as well indulge.

[ He straightens up when Ozymandias makes himself known. Though he knows the pharaoh won't saying anything, he still saw the weakness on display. That stung more than anything else -- an embarrassment. Berserker rarely showed weakness to anyone and only to those who might deserve it. For someone he didn't want to see him like this only made the pain in his chest worse.

Annoying. ]

I can't turn down hospitality. [ Again, it was one of the few things Medb's cruel wish couldn't remove. ] So...I will eat.

[ But first, the wine. Like any good Celt, alcohol is something even some like him can appreciate. He takes a drink from the offered cup. ]

... You didn't need to do this, but I appreciate it.

[Hearing him say he appreciates it throws Ozymandias a little off. He's quite accustomed to words of gratitude from others, but not so much from Berserker. He fully anticipated that another burgeoning squabble was on the horizon until he finished that sentence the way he did. Instead of insisting that he is truly not Ozymandias' problem and beginning that vicious cycle all over again.]

[It gives Ozymandias enough pause that he's forgotten what he was about to say. Which is probably for the best. It wasn't likely to be in response to words of gratitude.]

You're welcome.

[Normally it would feel a strangely weak thing to say, but with Berserker it seems fine. Let the matter be simpler. Perhaps in the future, he'll fight Ozymandias a little less on his welfare.]

[Still, Ozymandias doesn't like sitting with it and brushes right past it.]

I will bring salves and the like with me when I return from the Coven. I've held no interest in learning the healing arts, but with the way you and Arthur continue to carry on... [It might not be so bad to learn a thing or two. Zelda would likely teach him if he were to ask.] We should start maintaining a supply here.

Although, [he says, his gaze wandering back to Berserker,] do you even know how to apply anything yourself?

[It's not as condescending of a question as it might sound. Berserker may be good at sustaining injuries and pushing past them, but treating them? That seems unlikely.]

[ Berserker picks at the food presented as he lets Ozymandias speak. Needing to eat is still strange for him, so it's hard to make himself eat. It's providing a good distraction, though, and keeping him from saying anything that might cause another verbal squabble.

At the question, Berserker narrows his eyes. While it might have not been intended as condescending, that's certainly how he takes it. ]

... Yes, I do. [ He hasn't had to do it before -- Waver did it for him last time. ] I haven't had a need to do it myself, though.

[ He's just going to leave Waver out of this conversation. It's not like he'd asked for his assistance in that matter, either -- he took it upon himself to care for Berserker's mangled ear and wouldn't take no for an answer. ]

[He arches a questioning eyebrow at that because given Berserker's nature, it's hard to imagine he hasn't had the need for it. Repeatedly. So, someone else is likely managing that end of things for him. Perhaps his Bonded?]

[Ultimately, Ozymandias shrugs.]

You cannot fault me for wondering, Berserker, when we both know if I were to ask if you are in any pain, you would dismiss it.

[Either through outright denial of the pain's existence or minimizing the amount of discomfort it provides. He can see Berserker doing as much to himself and neglecting to tend to his wounds, letting them be as they are.]

Regardless, it pleases me to hear that there is someone else willing to tend to you. [He huffs a laugh.] Gods know that not even I can likely keep up, nor care to argue with you that much.

Waver won't take no for an answer, so it's easier to let him do as he pleases. He only does it because we're bonded to the same person.

[ So much for keeping him out of this conversation. He doesn't know if they're acquainted, but he feels like he at least owes Ozymandias a name. Someone that makes his life easier by taking care of Berserker's reckless ass should be known. ]

...But don't concern yourself with my well-being so much. I can survive this. There's little I can't survive.

[ Through sheer force of will and being too stubborn to die where he doesn't deem worthy. ]

[Waver? So, it would seem that boy is a little tougher than Ozymandias was initially willing to give him credit for. Then again, if he is to be Iskandar's vassal... Regardless, he will have to remember that for later. This is probably not the only time that Berserker will stubbornly refuse help.]

As you continue to needlessly remind me, [Ozymandias says with a clearly bored hum.] My judgment remains unchanging and absolute, Berserker. You are free to dislike it all you like or stamp your feet like a child, but this will change nothing.

Besides, [he says, turning and heading back towards the door,] if I thought you were going to shame yourself and succumb to such minor injuries and over such a trivial battle, I would have kicked you out and left you in the streets where you would belong.

Edited 2019-08-14 19:47 (UTC)

[ If Berserker had any real pride left, that comment might sting. If he had any emotional capacity to feel shame and regret, he might feel those now. Instead, it just irritates him. He's tired enough that he actually growls in response to that emotion, a low rumbling noise in his throat. It passes as quickly as it comes, though, and he settles right back down.

In the end, he knows Ozymandias is right. It would be pathetic for someone that has survived so much and so many fights to die to such a pointless thing. He lowers his head. ]

And I would deserve that treatment. [ He raises his head again, cold eyes settling on the pharaoh. ] Now go scold Arthur as you've scolded me.

[ Is that...a joke? Of sorts, anyway. ]

[Whether it's intended as a joke or not, Ozymandias huffs a laugh.]

Do not presume to issue commands to me, Berserker. [There's little bite to Ozymandias' words as he's hardly any more serious than he took Berserker's words to be. He pauses in the doorway, just a moment and looks back at the other Servant.] And consider yourself fortunate you are not in Arthur's position if you thought this scolding was such a hardship to tolerate.

[Arthur is in for much, much worse.]

I'll leave you to your rest.

[And true to his word, he does walk away, leaving Berserker be.]

[Finally.]

Don't fill your mouth with gluttony, for pride will surely swell [semi-open]

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