✿ THE HOUSE ✿
Adra's house is a cozy stone cottage on the outskirts of Caissa, close enough to the sea that one can hear the breaking waves throughout the day.
This afternoon, there's light, cool rain falling intermittently, tapping in a rhythm at the windows and roof. Fortunately, the kitchen is warm, bright, and welcoming. Its counters and tables are covered with freshly prepared foods of all kinds, and there are plenty of chairs for visitors who might like to sit and relax.
A door from the kitchen leads out into the garden, which is not quite yet fully landscaped, but which boasts a promising array of flowers (orchids, roses, lilies, tulips, etc) and herbs. Adra's also cultivating strawberries, tomatoes, lettuce, and so on; the strawberries and cherries in particular are ripe for picking. Adra has strung enchanted, floating fairy lights all over the garden; they cast a soft, ethereal glow over the paths and carefully tended patches of greenery. At the garden's center, there's a clear pond filled with red and pink lotus blossoms.
Back inside, a visitor might like to rest in the den. There's a roaring fire in the hearth, and sitting near it for a short while offers a boost to the weary spirit. Soft, plush chairs and couches fill this room, making it ideal for lounging. The tables are covered with books borrowed somewhat indiscreetly from the library; they deal largely with the magic and history of Enprise.
Adjacent to the den is Adra's study. In here are half-empty bookshelves and antique rolling desk covered with neat stacks of papers, boxes of quills, and numerous pots of ink, each one in different, brilliant colors. His journal is somewhere here, too ...
Finally, down the hall one will find a half bathroom and, across from that, the door to the second bedroom--belonging to one Gilgamesh. The master bedroom, belonging to Adrasteius, is at the end of the hall. There's a full bath in there, but this room is definitively locked.
✿ THE SPREAD ✿
As usual, Adra's gone over the top in his preparations. For drinks, there's a sweet, refreshing punch; delicately pink and decorated with sprigs of flowers. There are pitchers of sparkling ice water, jugs of wine and spiced mead, and plenty of glasses to share.
Though Adra does not eat meat himself, he prepares it ably; there's a honey-glazed, roasted turkey in the center of the table, right beside a carving board heavy with seasoned, hand-carved slices of fresh beef. Red potatoes, bright with paprika and salt and glistening with pats of melting butter, are arranged in wedges around the turkey. There are woven baskets of steaming rolls, flaky and soft; platters of carrots and broccoli and asparagus; enormous bowls of belly-warming soup filled with thick wheat noodles, sliced egg, and shredded cabbage. At one end of the table, there's a plate of burgers, along with small dishes to fix them--bacon, crispy onions, sauteed mushrooms, and all the necessary condiments. He has plates of savory pies, filled with beef or pork or chicken; steamed and fried dumplings stuffed with meat and spring vegetables, plump and perfectly shaped.
The desserts are similarly extravagant: he has a plate of meticulously crafted flower and fruit cakes; some look like ripe, blushing peaches, others, he shaped into red orchids, lotus blossoms, or golden roses. He's made a chocolate tart so dark that its smooth, sugar-dusted surface shimmers reflectively in the overhead light. Cupcakes of all kinds are scattered here and there, as well as an extravagant, multi-tiered confection dripping with fudge sauce, encrusted with sliced strawberries and vibrantly colorful, fondant flower petals. There are loaves of warm banana bread; fruit tarts glittery with rainbow sugar crystals; and, under glass, an assortment of flavorful macarons baked to look like something plucked right from the starry sky.
But the most important thing about Adra's lavish banquet is this: all of the food is enchanted, laced with magic meant to inspire feelings of comfort and security. Eating it may conjure up familiar, welcome sensations or memories--nothing sorrowful or painful, and only as specific as you'd like. It could be something as simple as the feeling of a fuzzy blanket on a cold day, or as complex as a particular soothing memory. In all cases, the intended effect is meant to inspire calm and ease.
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She thinks about whether she should reject it, seeing that there are other guests, but it's so tempting. It takes her a moment to contemplate before carefully taking it in the most subtle way possible. She'll eat this at a slower pace, as if savoring it. ]
As said before, it's well made. [ She's not sure what else does he want to hear? She's not good at expressing herself, let alone what she enjoys. ]
I especially like the addition of fruit to the cake. It also has an airy texture despite look rather heavy. Can you not eat a piece, Gilgamesh? [ WHY ARE YOU INQUIRING WHEN YOU CAN EAT IT YOURSELF? ]
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But ultimately she does manage a bit more. It brings a softer smile to his lips, especially the invitation.]
Here. I will try some with you.
[Gilgamesh picks up a spare fork sitting on the counter, and coming a little closer, starts sharing the slice with Saber. Thankfully, it's large enough for both of them.]
It is quite good. Adra's very talented in the kitchen, it would so seem.
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But it's weird every. single. time.
It doesn't stop her from eating the cake as well. Except she's making sure to get the pieces on the opposite side he chose. ]
Yes, of course he is. [ It can be no less!! She had thought that maybe Gilgamesh made the cake or helped, but now she is less impressed overall. This would have been the best time to wow her, but here we are.
As long as the cake is delicious, she continues to eat it. ]
This house is a lot different than I would imagine it to be.
[ Where is the snake skin? The leather prints? The distasteful mounted heads on the wall and all that tacky man cave stuff? ]
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I bought a small present for you.
[Just... ignoring the implications of that questionable statement and breezing on past in typical oblivious Gilgamesh fashion. He's noble enough to let her hoard her own bites, of course, carefully picking at his own and eating with all the elegance expected of a golden King.]
In recognition of your prowess during our dungeon foray. You were quite something against that dragon.
[Something like outrageously beautiful, or at least as much as he could see. A very beautiful dot skipping about like it was on fire. Yes.]
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I did what was necessary. [ She wouldn't recommend to anyone. Ever. It's not like she expected a reward--it's only to be expected, isn't it? She wants to say their safety is enough thanks, but saying she's glad Gilgamesh is safe... sounds gross. ]
You need not trouble yourself with such things.
[ Aka useless gift giving. It's rather considerate, so she's a little weirded out. ]
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[That almost went without saying, really. Gilgamesh of course considers himself quite special, but her treatment of him here isn't; even to her closest confidants, he can imagine she'd answer just as reservedly, denying that she deserved any such attention. It's endearing, but also indicative of someone with precious little self-worth.
And while that trauma may have appealed before, Gilgamesh was beginning to see the value in her earnest smile, too.]
Even if that were the case, that you were simply fulfilling duty, your presence was nonetheless inspiring. I am grateful for it.
[As was Adra, he knows. And that was without any of the awe-inspiring backstory of humanity's greatest knight.]
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It seems that you're not afflicted with a fever. [ She is in a state of shock, but coping with sheer denial. There's no malice nor ridicule in her words; she's genuinely concerned. It may be rude in every sense, but this is Gilgamesh. It's hard to believe that he admittedly says anything remotely synonymous to gratitude.
For now, she's considering that he may be ill in some way that doesn't show any physical signs. Yet. ]
If this is a side effect from malnourishment of some kind, do eat more. [ Like a nagging mother, Saber will take a snack nearby and put it in his hand with a fierce gaze like you better eat it. ]
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[Alert, alert, CONSENSUAL AND COMPASSIONATE CONTACT FROM ARTORIA DETECTED. Keep cool, Gilgamesh, keep cool, you'd earned this from the very beginning! By the virtue of being yourself! ...right? Well, she does sound a little worried, and maybe it's not necessarily for the reasons he'd prefer, but this is Artoria. It's hard to believe that she'd ever extend him something as pleasant as genuine touch—and this went a bit beyond companionable pats to the shoulder.
Gilgamesh lets out the breath he'd been holding in, and takes stock of that snack she's offered him. Blissfully, it's a macaron, so he has no problems accepting it from her and promptly stuffing his own face with the lack complete lack of elegance one would also expect from the golden King.
Thumbs up! It's good!]
My! I didn't recognize it before, but you actually have the nature of a devoted mother hen, don't you?
[It's a compliment. Sort of. Look, it's as close as they're going to get to bonding, don't hurt him for trying.]
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I wouldn't call it that. [ Though it did come to her instinctively to care for others, but it's really to make him stop being so weird.
... Maybe he's always like this? They made some strange promise in the dungeon, so she just has to accept that this may be one of his many facets. ]
Are you really not ill?
[ Is it infectious? ]
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[Well, she'd dug herself a nice little hole here. Now she's stuck in until she answers the question... and stuck dealing with his smug, smirking face throughout.]
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I see that you're doing fine; no need for any concern.
[ She munches ferociously with an indignant air. ]
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Gilgamesh sets his fork aside, having left Saber approximately half the remaining slice, and turns away.]
I've stowed your gift in my quarters. When you are ready...
[Gilgamesh presents her with a serious test of trust, leading her to his room. But it is broad daylight, and there so many people milling about that surely not even the King of Heroes would attempt something unscrupulous. Surely.]
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She can take him!! Somehow! She has no doubts?! ]
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Once again, Saber might be in for something of a surprise. The room itself proves far from gaudy, though it's certainly luxurious, decorated in rich reds and classy touches of gold. He's kept everything neat and tidy—sheets made, no clutter on the floor—and a pleasant scent, like flowers mixed with sand, wafts throughout. He'd either cleaned before she arrived, or the King of Heroes was in fact something of a neat freak when it came to organizing his personal space.
It doesn't take much time to find what he's looking for: a simple box with no trimmings, light as could be. Gilgamesh hands it over to her.]
I believe you will find this to be rather useful.
[A hopeful sign, perhaps? The box was certainly too long to hold anything like a a ring, so there's that miserable possibility tossed right out the window. Phew.]
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... What is it?
[ She finds it rude to open it immediately--especially in front of the giver. Gifts are meant to be opened at home, but her curiosity is killing her. While she shows no expression on her face, not even shaking the box, she is staring at it so intently that it may burn up in her hands.
IT ISN'T A RING, SO WHAT IS IT?
Is this a form of torture? ]
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I would not ruin the surprise. Go on; it is yours to have.
[It looks as though she'll need to break through her hesitation and get it over with. It can at least be discerned that the gift itself is very, very light, like a feather in her hand. It may not even be jewelry of any kind, given it has so little weight; even chains of gold or silver would be at least slightly noticeable. But if not jewelry, what is so small and so delicate that would fit in such a box, and that would also be useful to her?
As the saying goes, there's really only one way to find out.]
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If you would excuse me.
[ Quickly, she turns around, back facing him and now in the process of opening the box. Usually, if it were the gift from someone else--maybe someone tolerable more than 80% of the time, she would be able to wait, but she needs to know. The faster she sees this present, the faster she can reprimand the man if it proves to be distasteful.
WHAT IS IT? Her eyes bore into the box once she plops open the lid. ]
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The first, a ribbon of red as dark as wine, with golden lions prancing about its length; the second, a ribbon of black like raven's feathers, with dueling silver knights stitched faintly into its edges; and the third, perhaps most striking of all...
Well, it was striking because it wasn't. It was a ribbon of very simple blue, a blue she might recognize. A blue like the color she would wear back home. It would seem Gilgamesh has gone to great trouble to find a replica of what she once had and had now lost. If touched, even the texture feels authentic. But how would Gilgamesh know a thing like that?
Either way, Gilgamesh appears eager for her opinion, but for once remains blissfully quiet. He awaits her earnest judgment, though can't help but look more than a little excited, standing just behind her. He feels strongly that this is a gift she would would sincerely appreciate, that she wouldn't scorn him... though in a way, that had a certain appeal as well.]
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She has never thought much about her own ribbon before, so the last one really brings back memories. It's the color that ignites something in her, but she shows no outward signs at all. She doesn't take them out, treasuring them instead by fastening the lid back on. There's a quick turn on her heel, now facing Gilgamesh again with the box in her firm hold.
The inquiring look is there, peering deeply into his skull as if it'll help her read his mind, but she relents. Instead, she looks back down on the box, grazing her thumb against a corner.
"I do not understand." ]
As usual, you have fine tastes. [ Her way of saying thank you. Maybe one day, she can readily say it without this feeling of doubt. For now, a roundabout way suffices... It also praises his choice, so it works out. ]
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[In this way, Gilgamesh acknowledges the words she hadn't spoken. Though nothing like shy, as if he could ever possess such a reticent emotion, his eyes do flicker away for a moment. Appear almost distant, like that thousands year old ancient he's supposed to be. Pondering something only he could ever know.]
I cannot entirely explain it myself, but existing in this world, compared to our own—it has me feeling calmer. More settled. Perhaps it is the state of humanity, which I am tied to. Or perhaps it is because I am free of my bonds, and I am flesh and blood once more, able to explore earthly pleasures.
[It may also be because of the bonds he's formed here, though he won't admit to that. His wandering eyes return to hers, strikingly sharp.]
Whatever the case, there are no excuses to be made. I admire you as I did before. And I will seek your company, when I can, and that is that.
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She remembers clearly their strange times together and the way he looks at others. A small sigh follows as her shoulders drop. ]
However, you do not need to justify your actions, Gilgamesh. [ You never had to, is what she thinks. However, it makes her wonder if he's genuinely interested in having her understand--with the amount of effort he puts into his words lately when they're alone, it's hard not to read into it.
Back to the ribbons though. ]
I'll accept your gift. I can't say I've ever had embellished hair ornaments yet.
[ The first... ]
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[He's taking a big gamble here. Even bigger than the gift itself, which he had wondered if Saber would refuse outright on principle. At first, it seems like a harmless question, a bit confusing without context, but then...]
To embrace femininity.
[But then he may go too far.]
To be a woman.
[Then he definitely goes too far. Yet her words inspire an intense curiosity in him, and it certainly hadn't changed that Gilgamesh would always indulge it if given the chance. He would always ask, and always press, because that was simply what he did. He pushed past boundaries to sate his own interests. And he was very interested in her concept of self-identity, of the lonely girl that lived inside her heart. The one that was never allowed to live, past her duty to that sword in the stone.
Gilgamesh may not have known her well, but he knew enough to conclude that some part of that girl had not yet died.]
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[ She doesn't seem the least bit offended nor self-conscious. Maybe because the question is coming from Gilgamesh, a fellow king; it helps her step aside from the topic, perhaps even detach herself completely to the notion. It's a little abrupt, but it's not like she hasn't had these question brought to her--even asked these question to herself. She has always wondered what it would be like to grow up as a normal girl, a far-off fantasy that she can never attain. It's actually not hard to embrace feminity, but she doesn't seek it. Actually, she may be the one holding herself back. Those activities are for cute girls and she doesn't consider someone so muscular and rough fitting.
Her eyes are not listless, but rather pensive. There's also a twinge of desire. Somewhere deep inside her, she does wish to have a feminine touch even if it's a morsel. It's not a large issue to her though. ]
Even if I had the opportunity to change my past, I would still pull out the sword. I would still choose to take the throne.
[ The little girl in her heart loves her country. ]
Why the curiosity?
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[For being forthright with him, for sparing him a harsh reaction, he offers her honesty in return. A scrap of his own worry that often plagued him in this world, that he'd grown too soft and so forgotten his own duties as a result. Of course he cannot say for certain what Saber has suffered, only can discern what's been recited in legend. He cannot know her thoughts and he cannot offer her any meaningful advice because of it.
Ironically, he can only listen, as a fellow king who understood what it meant to walk alone.]
Yet... we have a choice now, that was not present before. So if you wished, you could let down your hair. You could laugh, and love, and introduce yourself as Artoria, rather than Saber. You could dance, or pick flowers, or else enjoy things as a young woman should. You could live.
[Why the curiosity? Well...]
I suppose I want to see for myself what you will do. If your crown will weigh you down, once more, or if you might lift it—and show me the girl within.
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That isn't her. She clutches onto the small box in her hands, as if that's the only thing real in this new world. ]
You are a strange man.
[ If anything this is all so cruel. Is she not living now? There's small smile and it's accompanied a wry chuckle. A laugh of some kind. It's all sinking in. ]
I can barely imagine all that you've described--let alone love. Who can come to adore a heartless soldier?
[ She has at least progressed enough to know who she is, what she is, and accept she's a warrior. A soldier. Never a bride nor one worth anyone's adoration. Despite how she feels so vulnerable, she tries her best to come off as strong. ]
I do not want you think your words are falling on deaf ears, but I wish not to be seen as a form of entertainment.
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