Lancer || Diarmuid Ua Duibhne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
croibhristeoir) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tvklogs2011-10-21 10:17 am
croibhristeoir) wrote in tvklogs2011-10-21 10:17 am
Entry tags:
//in a world that repeats itself
Who: Lancer and Saber.
Where: Roof of the hotel.
When: Sunset on Saturday, 10/21.
Summary: Finishing what was started. Also should I warn for F/Z spoilers?
Rating: T for violence, UST, and...flirting?
Log:
["I have spent the whole day searching the city, and everyone simply hides away in their little holes. You alone have accepted my offer."]
[For her, it had been ten years since that night. He didn't know how clearly she could recall it or what kind of an impact he had on her. That was fine. He hadn't been expecting her to remember every detail after so long.]
[But it hadn't been nearly so long for him. And Lancer remembered everything about their encounter, even after months spent in Prospero. That first confrontation between them had been thrilling, an evenly matched fight against a truly great opponent. He remembered the strength of her blade against his lances, the carefully choreographed technique with which they had both moved...it had been exhilarating.]
["That pure energy surrounding you...You are Saber, I presume?"
"Indeed. And you are Lancer."]
[Had he ever met an opponent that could match him so well before that night? Lancer seriously doubted it. Even among the Fianna, combat skill at her level would have been well respected. Possibly even feared.]
[The faintest tremor of anticipation went through his shoulders as he recalled that first night, and his grip tightened on the lances he held to calm himself. He'd waited this long, a few more minutes would be nothing. In silence, the former heroic spirit of the lance watched the sunset from the hotel's roof.]
[Even when his own Master hated and scorned him, he had been able to find a measure of joy in meeting Saber in combat again. Somewhere in the clash of blades and flying sparks laid Diarmuid's true reason for living, the reason he had lost sight of upon his death as Lancer. The reason he still couldn't fully comprehend, and the resolution to the inner turmoil coming with that lack of comprehension.]
["Glory shines from within the sword of the King of Knights. It is truly great that I have been able to meet you."]
[...No. That was his purpose right there. He would never be loyal to Kayneth or Sola again, never raise his lance in service to anything but what he believed was right. Lancer had sworn an oath of loyalty to Saber and she to him in return. And they were equal, which was more than he had ever been to Fionn or to Kayneth. Especially Kayneth. They trusted each other--understood each other. She knew the honor of knights better than any other, and Lancer knew full well he had no reason to fear betrayal a third time. Not from her.]
["Head knight of the Knights of Fianna, Diarmuid ua Duibhne———attacks!"
"That is well. King of Britain, Arturia Pendragon meets battle——!"]
[No more interruptions. No more of Kayneth, Fionn, or anything else that would trouble him. His mind had to be perfectly clear to face this opponent; anything less would disrespect her.]
[There was a path laid out before him now, one that he could only take as himself. Not as as subservient to any other knight or Master. The only person he would answer to now was himself, a concept beautiful in its simplicity.]
[But first...there was a fight they both needed to see through to its end.]
Where: Roof of the hotel.
When: Sunset on Saturday, 10/21.
Summary: Finishing what was started. Also should I warn for F/Z spoilers?
Rating: T for violence, UST, and...flirting?
Log:
["I have spent the whole day searching the city, and everyone simply hides away in their little holes. You alone have accepted my offer."]
[For her, it had been ten years since that night. He didn't know how clearly she could recall it or what kind of an impact he had on her. That was fine. He hadn't been expecting her to remember every detail after so long.]
[But it hadn't been nearly so long for him. And Lancer remembered everything about their encounter, even after months spent in Prospero. That first confrontation between them had been thrilling, an evenly matched fight against a truly great opponent. He remembered the strength of her blade against his lances, the carefully choreographed technique with which they had both moved...it had been exhilarating.]
["That pure energy surrounding you...You are Saber, I presume?"
"Indeed. And you are Lancer."]
[Had he ever met an opponent that could match him so well before that night? Lancer seriously doubted it. Even among the Fianna, combat skill at her level would have been well respected. Possibly even feared.]
[The faintest tremor of anticipation went through his shoulders as he recalled that first night, and his grip tightened on the lances he held to calm himself. He'd waited this long, a few more minutes would be nothing. In silence, the former heroic spirit of the lance watched the sunset from the hotel's roof.]
[Even when his own Master hated and scorned him, he had been able to find a measure of joy in meeting Saber in combat again. Somewhere in the clash of blades and flying sparks laid Diarmuid's true reason for living, the reason he had lost sight of upon his death as Lancer. The reason he still couldn't fully comprehend, and the resolution to the inner turmoil coming with that lack of comprehension.]
["Glory shines from within the sword of the King of Knights. It is truly great that I have been able to meet you."]
[...No. That was his purpose right there. He would never be loyal to Kayneth or Sola again, never raise his lance in service to anything but what he believed was right. Lancer had sworn an oath of loyalty to Saber and she to him in return. And they were equal, which was more than he had ever been to Fionn or to Kayneth. Especially Kayneth. They trusted each other--understood each other. She knew the honor of knights better than any other, and Lancer knew full well he had no reason to fear betrayal a third time. Not from her.]
["Head knight of the Knights of Fianna, Diarmuid ua Duibhne———attacks!"
"That is well. King of Britain, Arturia Pendragon meets battle——!"]
[No more interruptions. No more of Kayneth, Fionn, or anything else that would trouble him. His mind had to be perfectly clear to face this opponent; anything less would disrespect her.]
[There was a path laid out before him now, one that he could only take as himself. Not as as subservient to any other knight or Master. The only person he would answer to now was himself, a concept beautiful in its simplicity.]
[But first...there was a fight they both needed to see through to its end.]
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