Fate: Time and Punishment, Chapter Five, Part Three
OverMaster
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They'd been given a room in the boy's house, next to that given to the hired killer and his apprentice mistress. Alter and Irisviel had seen no problem with it, and so they retired early.
Iri had recharged her mana the less... intimate way before going to sleep, not that Alter could blame her. It had to be, after all, difficult for her accepting her all over again, in this new state of hers.
Alter thought about that and more, resting on the futon and staring at that unfamiliar ceiling, the Master soundly asleep by her side. After being tainted, it was difficult to bring herself to feel for others again, even if it was for Iri. Right now, she felt like she had lived through two lives, each a different vague dream, and she was but starting the third, a newborn in a fashion.
Of course, she truly was not that sentimental anymore, so this thought did not trouble her particularly. It simply was something she would come to cope with soon enough.
And, on that subject...
The figure in the large armor had somehow sneaked into the room through a window, now standing under the moon light filtering from the outside. Alter looked back at it, reaching over for Excalibur, not lifting it just yet. "Are you here to slay me?" she asked.
"Why... Why would you think I'd do such a thing?" Mordred asked, her voice slightly choked from within the helmet. "I only wish settling the question you wouldn't answer before the others. Why do you hate me?"
Alter sighed, sitting up in the pajamas Rin had lent her. "You truly are not pretending, are you? You still haven't put your mind to it."
"Speak clearly, demon!" Mordred growled. Iri stirred in her dream, and Alter frowned and placed a finger on her own lips, sternly.
When Mordred spoke again, her tone was coldly quiet once more. "I'll repeat myself, what did I ever do to you?"
"It never was about what you did to me," Alter said, "but what about you did to the kingdom."
"Liar! I'd never turn my hand against Britannia!"
"You are far too emotional, always were," the other woman chastised her. "That is why you were not fit the throne. I told you so, and your pride moved you against the whole of Camelot. Because of you, everything was lost, and-"
"No," Mordred said.
"I am telling you exactly what happened, you-"
"That wasn't me!" Mordred barked. "And that's not all of it! Obviously Lancelot failed you and everyone as well, the Berserker proved that, and yet you don't despise him!"
"No, I don't," Alter admitted after a moment.
"Why?!"
"Lancelot's faults were those of a broken heart, yours that of a broken pride," Alter lectured. "There is a huge difference between both."
"My pride! My pride was born from you!" Mordred accused her. "That's the real reason, isn't it! You learned of my origins!"
Alter said nothing, yet her silence told everything.
Mordred took the helmet off, angry tears streaming down her lovely face. "Why is it wrong for me, to feel pride over my birthright, while it was rightful for you?! Is it because of my mother? I never chose the woman who would birth me! Despite her, I always did everything I could to serve my King properly! And I am sure he won't reject me as cruelly as you have!"
"Then," Alter asked plainly, "why haven't you shown him your face yet?"
Mordred gave a step back, eyes growing much rounder.
The ensuing silence was nearly unbearable, a thing of chilling tension, until Irisviel's voice sounded calmly, the woman still not turning around. "It's not fitting a wise ruler," the voice said, "judging a child for the mistakes of another."
"Irisviel," Alter said. "You weren't there."
"No. No, I wasn't. And neither was he... Sorry, her," the homunculus replied while sitting up on the futon, bowing her head to the paralyzed Mordred. "I apologize in the name of my Servant. Her pride as a knight blinds her at times, and while I'd hoped her discussion with the Archer and Rider would have made her reconsider certain things... well, I suppose exposure to primal evil might have set that development back a bit, so please endure her for the time being, Sir Moe."
"I... Sir Moe?! I mean," Mordred gulped, straightening and trying to look arrogant and formal all over again, "of course I wouldn't hold anything of what this deviation does against my King! If she feels differently about me and her bastard, that is her problem, and nothing else! I came here strictly to settle the issue beyond all doubt, that is all!"
"Don't worry, we won't tell you anyone you're such a lovely young man," Iri smiled, and Mordred quickly shoved the helmet back on before the moonlight could betray her blush. "Tell him whenever you feel ready. I will be rooting for you, so you won't stray from the path of the loyal knight."
"You don't know the circumstances-" Alter began.
"Nobody ever knows the full circumstances behind anything," Iri lectured. "We are all creatures of limits, and every thing in this world has untold factors behind. It is up to our hearts, then, to help us navigate through the unknowns, and mine tells me to trust Sir Moe."
"Th-Thank you, but... I think I'd really like it better if you didn't call me that," Mordred rasped. "Since this matter has been solved without the need for bloodletting, then, I will spare your cursed existence and retreat back to my King's side..."
"Not solved, postponed," Alter said.
"Saber!" Iri said as Mordred disappeared back into the night with an indignated huff.
Alter looked back at her. "Do you actually believe she will judge him any differently than I did? That he truly has the capacity my spawn had?"
"I told you, I cannot know anything for sure. My heart still feels they can succeed where you failed." She took her hand in hers. "And hopefully, they can help you pull back from your brink, as well."
Alter was sure they could not, but chose not pursuing the subject further for the time being.
Iri had recharged her mana the less... intimate way before going to sleep, not that Alter could blame her. It had to be, after all, difficult for her accepting her all over again, in this new state of hers.
Alter thought about that and more, resting on the futon and staring at that unfamiliar ceiling, the Master soundly asleep by her side. After being tainted, it was difficult to bring herself to feel for others again, even if it was for Iri. Right now, she felt like she had lived through two lives, each a different vague dream, and she was but starting the third, a newborn in a fashion.
Of course, she truly was not that sentimental anymore, so this thought did not trouble her particularly. It simply was something she would come to cope with soon enough.
And, on that subject...
The figure in the large armor had somehow sneaked into the room through a window, now standing under the moon light filtering from the outside. Alter looked back at it, reaching over for Excalibur, not lifting it just yet. "Are you here to slay me?" she asked.
"Why... Why would you think I'd do such a thing?" Mordred asked, her voice slightly choked from within the helmet. "I only wish settling the question you wouldn't answer before the others. Why do you hate me?"
Alter sighed, sitting up in the pajamas Rin had lent her. "You truly are not pretending, are you? You still haven't put your mind to it."
"Speak clearly, demon!" Mordred growled. Iri stirred in her dream, and Alter frowned and placed a finger on her own lips, sternly.
When Mordred spoke again, her tone was coldly quiet once more. "I'll repeat myself, what did I ever do to you?"
"It never was about what you did to me," Alter said, "but what about you did to the kingdom."
"Liar! I'd never turn my hand against Britannia!"
"You are far too emotional, always were," the other woman chastised her. "That is why you were not fit the throne. I told you so, and your pride moved you against the whole of Camelot. Because of you, everything was lost, and-"
"No," Mordred said.
"I am telling you exactly what happened, you-"
"That wasn't me!" Mordred barked. "And that's not all of it! Obviously Lancelot failed you and everyone as well, the Berserker proved that, and yet you don't despise him!"
"No, I don't," Alter admitted after a moment.
"Why?!"
"Lancelot's faults were those of a broken heart, yours that of a broken pride," Alter lectured. "There is a huge difference between both."
"My pride! My pride was born from you!" Mordred accused her. "That's the real reason, isn't it! You learned of my origins!"
Alter said nothing, yet her silence told everything.
Mordred took the helmet off, angry tears streaming down her lovely face. "Why is it wrong for me, to feel pride over my birthright, while it was rightful for you?! Is it because of my mother? I never chose the woman who would birth me! Despite her, I always did everything I could to serve my King properly! And I am sure he won't reject me as cruelly as you have!"
"Then," Alter asked plainly, "why haven't you shown him your face yet?"
Mordred gave a step back, eyes growing much rounder.
The ensuing silence was nearly unbearable, a thing of chilling tension, until Irisviel's voice sounded calmly, the woman still not turning around. "It's not fitting a wise ruler," the voice said, "judging a child for the mistakes of another."
"Irisviel," Alter said. "You weren't there."
"No. No, I wasn't. And neither was he... Sorry, her," the homunculus replied while sitting up on the futon, bowing her head to the paralyzed Mordred. "I apologize in the name of my Servant. Her pride as a knight blinds her at times, and while I'd hoped her discussion with the Archer and Rider would have made her reconsider certain things... well, I suppose exposure to primal evil might have set that development back a bit, so please endure her for the time being, Sir Moe."
"I... Sir Moe?! I mean," Mordred gulped, straightening and trying to look arrogant and formal all over again, "of course I wouldn't hold anything of what this deviation does against my King! If she feels differently about me and her bastard, that is her problem, and nothing else! I came here strictly to settle the issue beyond all doubt, that is all!"
"Don't worry, we won't tell you anyone you're such a lovely young man," Iri smiled, and Mordred quickly shoved the helmet back on before the moonlight could betray her blush. "Tell him whenever you feel ready. I will be rooting for you, so you won't stray from the path of the loyal knight."
"You don't know the circumstances-" Alter began.
"Nobody ever knows the full circumstances behind anything," Iri lectured. "We are all creatures of limits, and every thing in this world has untold factors behind. It is up to our hearts, then, to help us navigate through the unknowns, and mine tells me to trust Sir Moe."
"Th-Thank you, but... I think I'd really like it better if you didn't call me that," Mordred rasped. "Since this matter has been solved without the need for bloodletting, then, I will spare your cursed existence and retreat back to my King's side..."
"Not solved, postponed," Alter said.
"Saber!" Iri said as Mordred disappeared back into the night with an indignated huff.
Alter looked back at her. "Do you actually believe she will judge him any differently than I did? That he truly has the capacity my spawn had?"
"I told you, I cannot know anything for sure. My heart still feels they can succeed where you failed." She took her hand in hers. "And hopefully, they can help you pull back from your brink, as well."
Alter was sure they could not, but chose not pursuing the subject further for the time being.
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