arcanarumlogs | [COMPLETE] In Absinthia

Who: England, Saber
When: Monday, September 19, early afternoon
Where: around Queen of Cups (the potions store)
What: A loyal servant meets her lord, and a lord meets his loyal boss.
Warnings: probably pg, nothing bad except for gratuitous angst

It had occurred to England that morning that, although he had been on the island for a long time, he had done very little exploring. Usually when he tried to go out, his legs would carry him to the edge of the forest, and he would frantically pace back and forth in front of it, watching it longingly, before Prussia or someone else had to forcefully drag him away. Today, England wanted to focus on going somewhere else. He wanted to know if there were places on Arcanarum that could actually help him in his quest to get back home.

He found the shopping district on his own, and he explored the fresh market first. That reminded him of his home, so he lingered there for at least forty-five minutes before deciding he should move on. It was getting cooler, anyway, and it looked as though a lot of the people were thinking about packing up. The wind blew against England and he searched for a shop where he could go inside and take shelter.

What caught his interest first was a potions shop. Brilliant! It had been a while since he'd been able to use his own magic, but at least he could still mess around with spells. He smirked to himself in victory before heading inside.

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As was her custom, Saber reasserted her careful neutral mask, though her troubled state remained underneath.

"A great many things... I was never able to bring the people the utopia they prayed for. But Camelot fell when a former knight led a rebellion against me. Only a few survived the war that resulted. After my death, Britain eventually recovered, but Camelot..."

She shook her head slightly. "I cannot accept its fall. My duty as the king is to protect my country and its people. To that end, I have pledged my sword to the Holy Grail War to correct my mistake."

Ah, so this was similar to what he had been thinking about. Camelot. His weak spot. England absentmindedly rubbed the area between his shoulder and neck where Camelot was. It had been his Achilles heel, everything he ever wanted and believed in. It wasn't just a legend. To him, and King Arthur, it had been a dream. And that dream had clouded their minds and left them open for attack.

"Mordred?" he asked, in regards to the traitorous knight. England knew the story. He continued on without waiting for the answer. "That's not your fault, you know. Camelot was doomed to fail from the beginning. If there's one thing I've learned in my many years, utopias do not last. They may sound like a good idea at the time, but there will always be someone who disagrees with something."

"Mordred's rebellion was simply the turning point," Saber explained with a slight shake of her head. As troubled as her homunculus son had been, Saber nevertheless placed the blame squarely at her own feet. "Had I been the king the people needed, no one would have followed him."

Camelot's foreordained doom was something she could never accept. "No. Had I been a stronger king, it would not have fallen. The people were unhappy because I could not save them, in spite of every decision I made. No... the blame is my own."

It was unfortunate to think someone thought so poorly of themselves. England wanted to encourage Saber, but he remembered two things; one, Saber was human, and humans often beat themselves up over their past mistakes. And, two, England did the same thing. Many, many times. He was always thinking about the past, always longing to go back to a way of life he'd been familiar with.

However, for the most part, the decisions about way he was run were not up to him. His bosses made the choices, decided who to go to war with and who to align with, set up the government. So, in the end, England was able to move on more quickly and not blame himself for what happened whenever.

"And you intend to go back and fix your mistakes."

Saber should have known the personification of her country -- a strange concept, but hardly impossible in her own reality -- would have seen though her mask. In the back of her mind, she wondered if there were other hidden things about herself that she would inadvertently reveal. However...

"Yes... I do," she replied with her usual resolve. "Whatever the cost, I will save Britain."

Her response made England smirk a little bit. Such devotion. He loved that. "I'm certain you'll be able to," he said as he crossed his arms. "You seem dedicated. That is the number one quality I look for in a knight. As long as they are willing to die for their country, then they needn't be all-powerful. Loyalty is the key!"

Saber was not completely certain she heard him right; the usual reaction to her wish varied from telling her she was wrong to outright mocking her. So far, the only one to back her up had been Irisviel. But now a variation of her own country? She was conflicted between the usual guilt and being almost relieved.

And then there was loyalty as a virtue. Without it, all her ideals meant nothing. "You maintain a commitment to chivalry, my lord," Saber replied almost reverently.

"And what's wrong with that?" he asked, still smirking. "It seems to be lost nowadays. There have to be some people who keep it alive."

[COMPLETE] In Absinthia

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