(A/N: Depression warning. Writing this chapter depressed even me cause it deals with an Artoria that's depressed, hates and regrets everything she's done. Pretty much an Artoria that's trying to get a hold of herself after what Aston insisted. A conflict between his facts and her own, one taking only marginal precedence over the other considering the nature of their relationship. Getting into that mindset does things to you, especially if you're mostly happy-go-lucky.)
Artoria observed the moon in silence, her emerald eyes reflecting her contemplative mood unappreciative of the oddly beautiful night sky, dotted with varying stars large and small but in the end, completely inconsequential to the people observing them unless they were moving but that was an entirely different can of worms not worth poking.
The British King had opted for a more modern and casual attire in light of the fact that they had guests over at her Master's house, wearing a dark blue knee length skirt, along with tights and a simple white button-up shirt accented by a blue string tie.
She pondered upon the words her knight, Aston, continually insisted were truth and her own thoughts regarding her rule.
He insisted it was flawed yet splendid.
She felt it was entirely flawed, untruthful and ultimately detrimental to her nation and it's people. She'd failed to provide her people with the utopia they were promised, sacrificed the few to save the many, and countless had died to the rebellion that brought her kingdom to heel.
No matter how much she had done, no matter how much she gave up, the dreadful reality of Britain's end washed her effort away with ease.
Aston countered that with the fact that even till the end, so many had followed her to their deaths because they held faith in her and were satisfied with the little she had done. That she'd delivered the common folk from the oppression of Vortigern and the invaders, driven off threats both internal and external AND set them on the path to progress built using their own hands.
She wasn't dull enough to not see the truth in his words but it also brought up another problem.
If she had done so much, why had they chosen to rebel and sought destruction instead of peace and prosperity?
Why had her Round Table left one by one?
Why had Lancelot betrayed Aston, killing his student and subsequently entered combat to defend Guinevere from a raging, saddened friend?
Again, there were objective answers to all these questions.
The human mind worked in mysterious ways, they'd talked quite a bit the prior night and Artoria had come to understand that more than before.
They rebelled because they began to perceive her as inhuman, unapproachable and unacceptable because she was perfect to a fault. Greedless, not motivated by personal desire and concerned only with the prosperity of the common man to the point where they began fearing her instead.
Artoria knew this and Aston reaffirmed it, insisting strongly that she should not blame herself for it all but how couldn't she?
How did knowing the answer make things any better?
How was being aware that she had been so good it circled around and made her insufferably terrible supposed to be a satisfactory answer?
In the end, all her good was cancelled out by the bad and her country was destroyed. How could she have been perfect if people were dissatisfied to the point of rebellion?
Artoria wished to undo her rule so that all those she'd wronged would have better endings, so that her knights wouldn't become victims of atrocity of atrocity.
So that the man she'd branded as the 'Knight of Atrocity' wouldn't have to surrender his fame and respect to become hated and feared so that she might shine brighter in his darkness.
"Saber, how long are you going to sit out there?"
Artoria was brought out of her musings by the young auburn haired teenager that had summoned her and stared at him in thoughtful silence, making him fidget slightly, wondering if he'd done something to wrong her, "I will join you soon." She addressed him cordially.
Shirou Emiya could only sigh in response, closing the wooden door of the traditional style Emiya Residence, "I see." He'd begun to think it was normal for these heroes of legend to have depressive backgrounds and question their own actions.
Even if he knew his words would fall on deaf ears, Shirou Emiya couldn't help but speak them, "With that wish, you'll waste the efforts of everyone who supported you." His servant had been quite vocal about her wish for the Holy Grail when interacting with the spear wielding knight loyal to her, "Even Lancer's."
It would be the same as running their hopes, dreams and effort into the ground for a future that could end up bleaker than the one she forged.
"Shirou, it is not.." Artoria pursed her lips mid-sentence, not wanting to finish her sentence.
For now, she was this man's knight and as such, honorbound to consider his words, or perhaps it was just the desire to have another opinion on a matter that practically plagued her mind.
One opposing her own conclusion so that she might heed her knight's words and come to terms with the absurdity and even unrequired nature of her own.
"What would you have me do?" Bullheaded as she was, the British King wasn't exactly keen on abandoning her convictions even if she was continually reminded of their selfish if not superfluous nature.
Shirou paused for a moment, surprised that she would consider his words, "I.." He paused again before releasing another sigh, "I don't know." He admitted truthfully, unwilling to lie even if he had to face his servant's disappointed gaze for his indecisive answer, "But do you honestly believe you could become a king supported by many if your rule was unwanted?" He wasn't aware of the details but conversation and the fact that the tale of King Arthur was well-known told him enough.
"I suppose not." Artoria nodded slowly, once more turning her gaze to the moon.
If one person disagreed, it could be a difference in opinions.
If more did, there was some sort of fault to be found.
Artoria was stubborn but by no means dull, Britain wouldn't progress as much as it did under her otherwise, even if her legend was one prophesied and brought about through the efforts of many a people.
She failed to notice- or rather, wasn't quite interested in her Master going back inside seeing as they were at his residence and would have gone back to her musings had a bright and cheery woman with short light brown hair not leapt out just as Shirou left.
Taiga Fujimura, as Artoria had come to know, was an elder sister-like figure to her Master and an obnoxiously cheerful person that did NOT take kindly to her flaws being pointed or made fun of.
Oh and, she seemed to disdain Artoria for some reason.
"Are you sure you're an acquaintance of Kiritsugu's?" Taiga questioned with a scrutinising gaze, crossing her as she stared down at the aloof blonde foreigner staying at Shirou's home. They'd introduced her as an acquaintance of his father but she was too smart to be fooled by that.
Artoria confusedly met her gaze, "Is that not the previously established understanding?" She slightly tilted her head, somewhat irked by the reasoning this woman and the other guest had for 'keeping an eye on her'.
"Yeah but are you sure?" Taiga didn't trust Artoria one bit.
Artoria could only smile amusedly at the woman's seeming disdain, there was a time when this behaviour would have left her baffled and with questions but it was certainly not the case now, "You need not be wary of my intentions regarding young Shirou." She addressed the problem directly, "I possess no interest of that sort in him."
Taiga found herself slightly flustered by her bluntness but forged through, for Shirou's sake!
"Hmmm.." She narrowed her gaze, leaning forward with both hands on her hips, "Why's that?"
Artoria stared at the woman in well-disguised awe, finding her line of questioning to be somewhat baffling.
Answering her question though, that was an entirely different matter.
The British King went completely silent before, for the first time since Taiga had seen her, rubbing her left arm with her right hand and averting her gaze, "Well I.." She paused, a small blush on her cheeks conveying her embarrassment, "I already.."
"Oh.. Oh.." Taiga didn't need any further explanations from the stranger and stood back up with a massive grin, almost sheepish, grin on her face, "That's how it is!" She scratched the back of her head before laughing, "Hahahaha, I guess I was worried for nothing!"
The British King failed to understand her own reaction to what she'd done but averted her gaze entirely, was this what it was like to behave as a woman would? Was the rapid beating of her heart upon such questioning the norm?
Artoria felt living as a commoner, free of worries beyond the next meal, wasn't too bad a prospect.
The moment of common happiness didn't last long however and, warned by her instincts, the servant quickly jumped to her feet and knocked Taiga unconscious with a swift blow, aware of how the Grail War was to be kept secret from the masses.
An unconscious civilian in her arms, the King of Knights leapt away just in time to avoid an incognisable weapon ripping open the ground where she previously stood, kicking up dirt and dust.
Shirou rushed out into his yard, alarmed by the sudden noise and found himself knocked over by Taiga being thrown into his arm as Artoria drew the Sword of Promised Victory, cautiously eying their surroundings in a bid to defend her Master.
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