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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2015 5:03:11 GMT
The King of Knights had to admit, being able to revert to a spiritual form was a first. Materializing just outside of the Chaldea compound, Arturia stood upon a balcony overlooking the surrounding mountains. During her time as a Servant in Fuyuki, she could never dematerialize, so the actual experience was a new one for her. It did feel uncomfortable though, like her feet weren't in contact with the ground. It was the least of her concerns right now though, and so she let the cold snap her back into focus on the matters at hand.
First, she had been summoned as a Servant into the year 2015. The grail system in Fuyuki was not the only one capable of summoning Servants apparently. However, this time it summoned her as a proper Servant rather than a cheating one. It also was capable of summoning several Servants, including those of the same class. A small army of the greatest heroes was already forming within the pale white compound. Were it not for a greater cause on the horizon, this would be a force capable of taking over the world if they so wanted.
Which lead to her second concern, being the reason she was summoned. Supposedly in one year humanity will cease to exist. The cause is unknown, but that is the apparent foretold future. In order to fight this, they summoned Servants to send back in time to fix fluxes in space-time that might be causing it along with proxy-Masters to provide the prana. She couldn't help but wonder what sort of threat drove them to devise the ability to summon Servants to fight it, but that was something she could only speculate on.
"I wonder if anybody I know has been summoned..." she thought aloud as she let her gaze drift into the snow-covered mountain peaks. They truly were in the middle of nowhere, nothing at all like being summoned in Fuyuki. It would be strictly business here, it seemed. With the fate of humanity on the line though, who could blame them? It was the greatest cause a man could take up arms for. A rush of cold air blew by, though she didn't take much notice. This was something easily tolerable for her compared to some of the other things she had encountered. "Lancelot, Bedivere,...Merlin....perhaps we may meet again." |
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Post by Mordred on Oct 13, 2015 5:21:49 GMT
Swing to the left! Burst, and respond by chopping down to the legs! Don't let up, damn you!
Mordred's training was explosive and violent, clearly able to be heard from a fair distance away. She refused to train inside Chaldea: She wanted to operate under situations where the mana drawn from the facility was minimal, about as much as she'd gain from a Master. It was pointless to train where there was no similarity between the training and where you would be fighting. It would be like learning how to swim on land.
The location was cold and inhospitable, but it was acceptable to her. Though a nagging voice in the back of her mind compared it to the bottom-most layer of hell, there was really nothing that she could complain about. There was an ample supply of mana, there was competent company, a small but present fraction failed to irritate her, and there was a cause that was worth fighting for?
That alone was the clincher. The thought of fighting for something greater than herself, of being someone relied upon and of use to people...well, it reminded her of a time that was both painful and beautiful. A time where she could be something close to happy. So, she forced down as much of the black rage as she could, and composed herself as a knight should. Her patience was still shaky and she was irritated by more than she should have been, but...it was something she felt satisfied doing.
The presence of another Heroic Spirit flared in the back of her mind, if this was a Holy Grail War, she would have bolted into combat. However...it was not. "There is plenty of snow. You should find your own patch." She was not in the mood to be interrupted.
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2015 5:50:16 GMT
Perhaps it was her focus on her thoughts that caused the knight to miss the sounds of armor clanking, of air being cut by a blade. The words brought it all to the forefront of Arturia's mind, but perhaps what sealed it was the voice that spoke. It was familiar, the sort of familiar that you can never forget. The rebellious child that lead to the downfall of Camelot...no, that wasn't accurate nor fair. They were a knight of the round table, and they sought a cause they believed in. It was regrettable that both sides ended up losing and everything they worked to build up was lost, but there was no changing that. To undo it all would mean undoing everything that had happened since, to undo everything that her knights and followers sought to protect.
"Mordred." Arturia spoke the knight's name aloud, intending to get her attention. She took a few steps towards the knight, brushing a lock of hair that had been blown into her face by the wind. Though she had on her signature blue dress, she had yet to manifest her armor or sword. She had no will to engage in hostilities, and if Mordred wished to train together, she would likely say so. Once she had finally developed her own desires, the child was not one to keep quiet about them. At least, that was the impression that she had of her through their limited interaction as parent and child.
"It has certainly been some time." she continued, though she honestly wasn't sure what to say. Aside from an estranged parent/child relationship, the two were also technically mortal enemies on opposite sides of a war back in life. On top of that, while Arturia knew what she had gone through since and what changes she's had, she couldn't say the same for Mordred. Did she even have any experiences she could recall after the battle at Camlann? Would she still hold the desire to be king close to her heart, or had she moved on? She had no way of telling, so it was walking into the metaphorical minefield from here.
"It seems we've both been summoned by Chaldea." |
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Post by Mordred on Oct 13, 2015 6:04:09 GMT
Being addressed by her name caused her to turn...and the voice was all but unmistakable. No, it was completely impossible to mistake. There was only one person in all the world that could be.
"...Father."
Turning around, she faces the king, and blinks. The dress was something she didn't expect. It was not something she was used to seeing her father in. It was...soft, almost. It made her seem less high, less austere. Still, that didn't change the facts, or what happened between them. She was still the same person.
"It has." These taciturn agreements ate at her very soul, but there was little more to say. Her past claws at the back of her mind. It wasn't something she wanted to face, but...here she was. There was no avoiding it. She had to stare her mistakes, her failures, her regrets, all staring back at her with a face that was so much like her own.
"...Did you really seek this confrontation, only to say that? How foolish. Such a statement is obvious considering our presences." Her helmet dissolves into the snowy night, revealing her face. It was an idle gesture...she wondered passively if she'd recoil at the sight. It wouldn't surprise her. "But why are you talking to me? You should have known that there would be far less risk of me abandoning my duties to Chaldea if I simply never knew of your presence. Why would you take such a pointless chance?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 13, 2015 6:31:08 GMT
Arturia's eyes widened slightly upon seeing Mordred's face, but not out of disgust or disapproval. It was simply a small amount of surprise, having forgotten how similar their faces really were. They'd only made proper eye contact at the end of the battle they slew each other in, so not all of the details registered at the time. It was only a moment though as her eyes returned to their normal, calm stare as she maintained eye contact now with Mordred. This was perhaps the greatest challenge she would face, but it was necessary to continue forward.
"We would run into each other eventually; there's only so many places to hide in the compound. More importantly though, I didn't seek to confront you." she responded, her voice calm but firm. She had to at least some degree reverted back to her mannerisms as a king, something likely necessary when dealing with Mordred. The two stood at about equal height, so they truly stood eye to eye with one another through this dialogue. There was no hesitation in her eyes or in her voice, and her arms remained still at her side.
"I've come to talk. Much has happened since our last encounter...things I did not believe possible, and these events have taught me many things about myself." her explanation continued as her mind carried her back to those times. Encountering Lancelot, discussing Kingship with Alexander the Great and Gilgamesh, meeting Shirou...all of these things and more contributed to her current state. Lancelot had driven himself mad from her own self-righteousness and refusal to administer punishment, while the other kings rejected her as nothing more than a dreaming girl. Shirou...he had done many things....the memories were hazy. At times it seemed like she had differing events for the same time in her head. Either way, it was a minor issue to be resolved later. "I wish to make amends and start anew for us, to allow ourselves to work as best we can to save humanity."
It was far from perfect, but it was a start. Hopefully if Mordred's hostility lowered, the conversation would feel a bit more natural for her. |
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Post by Mordred on Oct 13, 2015 6:45:58 GMT
"...Hmph." Her answer was correct, she couldn't fault it. If they were both present, they'd run into each other sooner or later. Besides, if Arturia found Mordred unacceptable, what better place to kill her than out in the snow? Still...there was something off. While she still had her kingly stature...it was softened, more than the dress could have implied. There was something else there...she had to wait for an explanation.
The words she spoke were unbelievable to her. She wanted to make amends? After all she did? It was inconceivable. If there was someone that could be so perfect, it was her, but...why now? Were those transformative experiences really so much that it'd fly in the face of the pain and destruction she wrought. Still, there was one point where she couldn't move.
"I freely admit my actions were inexcusable. Sowing pain and hate for little better reason than revenge was...beneath me. Beneath the standard I held for myself." She clenches a gauntleted fist...she could remember the pain of the betrayal vividly, but she quenched the memory as best she could.
"...If you wish to start anew, then the answer is simple. First there must be some measure of willingness to forgive my unforgivable crimes. And then...I need the only thing I ever wanted from you. If it must be qualified, that's fine. But..."
She sighs, turning away. "Is it so wrong to be my father's son? Is it so wrong to seek validation for a life I attempted to live in your image?" She clenches her fist once more, but can't keep herself from getting angry. Raising her head, she glares right into her face. "You were everything to me! And yet you tossed me aside like garbage! My birth was foul, but were my actions so insufficient that they couldn't even get a hint of pride from you? Was there really nothing I could do to overcome what I could not control?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 14, 2015 0:44:09 GMT
Mordred certainly took the notion well. That was a good start, and it helped Arturia out a lot. The acknowledgement of what had happened on Mordred's end was the first step for her, and she too would have to do the same. Though, much more would have to happen, and that's when the second step came into things. She would have to forgive the actions of her "son", things which tore apart her country, ended her life, and caused so much suffering for everybody. Ultimately, the blame for everything could fall on her own shoulders; her inability to connect with people and refusal to acknowledge Mordred lead to the rebellion. So to forgive Mordred's actions, she had to forgive her own and acknowledge what happened.
"'Not once did I despise you.' I believe that's what I told you on the Hill of Camlann that day." Arturia began, her eyes meeting Mordred's and then shifting to gaze into distance, "I wasn't lying. Morgan was using you as a pawn in her gambit for the throne, but I did not harbor ill will towards you because of it. You turned my friends and allies against me in your rebellion, but I cannot hate you for it," her eyes moved back to meet Mordred's, maintaining their calm and serene gaze but with a hint of sadness behind them. It was never an easy thing to admit guilt, but it was necessary for things to move forward, "Not when all of it was ultimately my own fault. How could I fault you for my own errors?
"They say I was a perfect king, ruling justly and properly, but can you really say I lead my people? I saved them from the suffering and injustices, but I was so focused on making myself the ideal king I did not connect with those I was claiming to lead. That sowed the malcontent and distrust you used to turn the Knights of the Round Table against me. And your birth and my unwillingness to publicly acknowledge you as my son was a result of my inability to properly deal with Morgana. So, to forgive your acts is to forgive my own mistakes, and that's all I can do at this point. I've already tried to undo my whole kingship, and failed." A sad sort of chuckle came from her mouth, amused at her efforts to attain the impossible and how even the world itself seemed to be trying to tell her that Iskandar was right the whole time.
"The only other reason I could not accept you as my son was because of your desire for the throne. It was Morgan's scheme that planted the desire in you, but you seemed to genuinely wish to succeed me as my son once the truth was known to all. My judgment then still stands now; you do not have the capacity to be a King, and I think even you can see that. So long as we both still lived in our own time, that was going to always be a factor and who I was back then could never get around that." Arturia kept her tone neutral and void of her emotions, but in her heart she couldn't help but feel regret. Mordred became fueled by hate and jealousy because of her actions; who she is was nothing more than a result of the actions Arturia herself could not take.
"So, Mordred, I would like to ask you to be completely honest. If you could have any one wish, what would you wish for?" |
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Post by Mordred on Oct 14, 2015 1:40:52 GMT
Mordred’s fist clenches at those last words that were spoken to her. She couldn’t tolerate them, not when they didn’t make any sense. Her explanation only made her more and more angry. “Why don’t you start saying things that make sense. You don’t hate me, even though I was your mortal enemy? I betrayed you, so you merely take the blame yourself?” Such an action was perfect...too perfect. Though it seemed to come from the same spent feeling that Mordred had been plagued with since arriving here, there was still something strange about it.
However, her light ruminations were cut off by the tirade into herself that Arturia began to engage in, which elicited a snarl. “Do not say that. That...that’s something I can’t tolerate. You rejecting yourself is the same as you rejecting me, and I will not hear it.” There was no way she’d be willing to let her father say that about herself! Arturia betrayed Mordred, and Mordred betrayed Arturia in return, but that didn’t change the fact that she could not stand to hear the kind of self-criticism that Arturia was engaging in. Not from the king she felt, at her core, was perfect.
Her first explanation was one she considered repeatedly. Her plauged, rotten birth, the way she’d come into this world. Born from treachery and deceit from her outset. Still… “...Public? Who said anything about public? Of course you couldn’t consider a bastard like me, someone formed from such a shameful beginning your son in public. That’s why I spoke to you in private when I revealed myself, so that I could hear your words without the strain of the need to be a perfect king on you. I suppose I was mistaken, perhaps I could not get a candid answer out of you with just that, but I never had any desire for public acknowledgment.”
The other answer was one that simply caused her to blink. Then, her fists clench, her teeth grits, and she has to restrain herself from just outright screaming at Arturia. “Desire for the throne? Desire for the throne! What desire for the throne!?” She stops, fighting back tears, and returns to a more passive tone, though there’s an obvious choking as she continues. “You misjudged me totally, in two ways. First, I will never deny that I lack an inherent capacity to be king. I am your son, and you are the perfect king. How could I not be?”
She looks up, glaring at Arturia. “The second, is that I had no desire to sit upon Camelot’s throne. Not until you offered that as a reason I could not win your favor, did I even consider it. That was Mother’s goal, not mine, and I would have nothing to do with her. Though I knew I was or would be worthy if the need arose, I would be just as willing to serve a different successor if one should make itself known. I myself had but two reasons for turning against you. To crush your single dream, as you crushed mine, and to prove you wrong about rejecting me for such a reason. To prove that I could lead Britain, as you did.” She laughs, mirthless and dry. “I never got to find out, of course.”
Mordred turns away at the last question. “My desire...my one wish, is the same as it’s always been. To be acknowledged. Privately, with caveats or qualifications, but I wanted to, when my identity as your son became known, to feel as if I was someone who brought you pride in being related to. That I was a son you could trust and believe in. That my life lived in your example was not a waste, with obstacles I could not surmount merely because I was the child of someone you did despise. If...if you can't do that, then there's nothing for us to discuss.”
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Post by Deleted on Oct 27, 2015 3:15:27 GMT
It could not be helped that Arturia's eyes widened slightly with Mordred's response. It seemed that the "perfect king" really did have a lot to learn about being a person, a father. She could not even judge correctly her own kin correctly. Though, that lead to the issue of her just self-criticizing again which would just lead to more anger from Mordred. It was going to be a weird self-fueling loop if she couldn't break it here, and so she made sure to fully take in everything Mordred was saying. Once she had said her piece, Arturia believed she may have had the answer to this. Hopefully. It was a sort of ultimatum moment, so she had only one shot to make things right.
"As King Arthur, then, I misjudged my loyal knight because of my own fear of my enemies. I translated your connection to Morgana as a thread of conspiracy. That was truly my mistake." she spoke not self-deprecatingly nor with sadness, but as one would simply relay the facts. Before Mordred could cut it off into another rant though, she continued, "For our time, perhaps I was what the country needed. But, Mordred, this is not my first time as a Servant. I've run into other kings whom I could have never met and spoken to in life. I've seen other ways to live, others who were able to avoid the mistakes I myself made. I've been able to live my life some as a person, and not as a king, and it's allowed me to see things differently."
The knight took a couple steps closer to her son with a softer expression. It was a face she had not truly known how to make until being summoned as a Servant in Fuyuki. Mordred just wanted acknowledgement and acceptance, and with the two no longer in their own time it was very much possible to bridge that gap. Here, the two were on equal footing, two Servants both fighting for a common goal. There was nothing to force a divide between them. She believed that it was possible, and she was willing to do so.
"When we were both alive, we only ever spoke as King Arthur and Sir Mordred. Even when you approached me as Mordred, son of Arturia, I only ever spoke to you as King Arthur. Give me a moment to speak to you as Arturia, father of Mordred." she took a deep breath to prepare herself for this one. She had no idea how it would go or how Mordred would view her words, but she just had to go ahead and say them, "You became a Heroic Spirit, which alone is worthy of any parent's pride. In spite of everything, you kept going and succeeded in something that many tried and failed. As a knight you were the embodiment of chivalry more so than any other. You've shown that when you believe something, you make it happen, and that is something any parent could be proud of. I'd hardly call a life that became a heroic spirit a waste, and there were no obstacles you could not overcome. Though...in regards to trust, that is perhaps the trickiest one to answer."
Arturia took a moment to think over her words carefully. Trust was a tough thing to answer; Mordred was known as the "knight of betrayal" for a reason. That betrayal came at the very end of things, but it still happened. It was not out of pure malice though, and Mordred gave her reason for it, so was it worth continuing to hold that as a reason to not trust her? A moment of contemplation before steeling her gaze and meeting Mordred's.
"I trusted all of my knights. In the end, my trust led to my betrayal and death and Lancelot's departure from Camelot. However, I held that trust to the end. Do not think that I do not trust you, Mordred. You betrayed me, but for reasons that we've already discussed. Those motives and reasons are no longer relevant, so I see no reason to not trust you now. As a knight, I trust you as my ally on the battlefield. As your father...is there any parent that does not implicitly trust and believe in their children?" |
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Post by Mordred on Oct 27, 2015 4:01:55 GMT
Mordred would not have corrected Arturia there, even if her father did not hastily continue to speak. The betrayal was certainly something that she could view as a mistake. She mistook the pure intentions of a knight who loved her king and her father as one of a power-hungry monster. She was viewed as her mother’s son, and not her father’s. Arturia admitting the mistake in turn caused Mordred’s eyes to go wide.
What she said next, though, was more suspect. Memories of Grail Wars? Seeing other ways to live? This definitely sounded of self-deprecation, and if it wasn’t for the surprise and the general slant of the conversation being one of apology and forgiveness, she might not have tolerated it. So, instead of interrupting her, she simply waits for a lull in her words and says, simply “Explain.”
Her simple words catch in Mordred’s throat. This...this was far more than she could have expected. Instantly, she acknowledged her, with a simple sentence, she gave her what Mordred wanted. Even before she even said her piece, Mordred was pretty much satisfied. No longer did the words that once burned her mind, that seared her soul, “I will not recognize you as my son” hold any power over her.
What came after was not what she expected, but the flattery left Mordred dumbfounded. She almost wondered if this was her father, if the experiences she had really changed her so much. She accepted the words, that seemed to go against her idea of who Arthur was, on the context that this was Arturia the Father. Of course, the Perfect King had no time for a true relationship with her son, that went without saying. It was far, far more than adequate to be acknowledged, and be someone that her father held pride in, no less. However, the trust aspect came up, and Mordred felt fear in what was perhaps the first time in her short life. She couldn’t blame Arthur for holding that against her, especially after all that...but she wasn’t sure she herself could handle it.
The words that did come, eventually proved to be another affirmative. Mordred looks up at the sky for a moment, letting snow fall on her face to hide the tears that were forming. “So. You trusted me as a knight, but not as a son. That’s hardly surprising, considering the circumstances. I...I’m very glad those circumstances are no longer.” She tried to keep her emotions down...but that was likely an impossible task. She was given a second chance, and was granted all that she wanted on top of it. While she liked to think she matured far faster than most mentally as well as physically, it was too much for her to take while still holding things together.
“Father!” She closes the distance and hugs her, letting her armor disappear and leaving her in her somewhat skimpy underclothes that primarily serve to cushion and support the armor. Her somewhat-present mental justification was that she didn’t want arturia to be harmed at all in being pressed against metal...though in all likelihood, she just wanted a more personal contact. Almost as soon as it began, the sobbing happened. If she’d been in control of herself, she’d call the display rather disgusting and beneath her, but she couldn’t help it now.
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