eachdraidh | ♔ I ► video 【open to both courts & backdated to 02/01】

( Her progress in working out what her locket does is very much a WIP. Still, she has fiddled with it enough to activate whatever magic controls the moving images of people. This is in an invaluable tool in her eyes, because she has precisely the purpose to put such a resource to use. Keenly aware that appearances matter especially so upon making a first impression, she is dressed elegantly, and her hair is mostly left in loose waves, some cloth-of-gold ribbon threaded throughout. She keeps the look on her face pleasant, but cool.

There is no benefit for the time being in playing the fool, as she had at home. The warmth of her smile does not extend to her eyes, not yet. Instead they hold a light of curiosity, and a great amount of seriousness. Her awareness of the situation at hand is dim but for this: she is not dreaming. She has lost all, and stands to gain everything if she but works for it. Just as her father had won the throne of England: with smiles, charm and good business sense.

Her address, then, is an earnest one. )

Good day to you, one and all. I know not how many of you there are, or from whence you come. Yet if I may, I would humbly beg a favour, if you would be so gracious as to indulge me: your acquaintance.

Indeed, I would meet as many of you as might be possible. And, if you would be even more indulgent, information pertaining to the state of affairs in this land and abroad. I find myself possessed of a desire to know the full scope of things here ere I chart my course and navigate myself through whatever trials I may face here.

( Now, finally, the warmth enters her eyes. She has no choice; it would not do for all the land to bear witness to her grief. )

I am Elizabeth Plantagenet of England. It is my hope that I will be able to repay any kindness shown me sooner rather than later. I look forward to meeting and speaking with many of you!

Until then, farewell. Deus vobiscum.

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( His empire has long since faded into the annals of history by the twilight of the fifteenth century. But she would know of it, were she made aware. Such kingdoms and the stories of their heroes and gods, kings and queens have fascinated her since childhood.

But she is not thinking of that at the moment, nor of legends from closer-to-home. No; because her perceptiveness has picked up on something which alarms her: he knows. Inexplicably, this man somehow is aware of the goings-on of her realm. Though she has neither spoken of it, nor of the notion that he hails from anywhere close to her land. She is tense, skin pale beneath her smile, which despite all remains in place.

Nor do her eyes widen, thanks be to God. She has caught herself early before her expression might reveal overmuch. )

The eve ere I arrived here, as a point of fact. The dragon was nearly gored by the boar, but revealed itself to have a poison stinger upon the tip of its tail.

( The creatures she speaks of representing the heraldry of both Richard III and Henry Tudor. )

Henry Tudor is the dragon. It is his badge.

[Kings and queens, heroes and gods form the backbone of his world. It might be said it was fate that drew that together because of it, but likelier still is that Gilgamesh is simply nosy, and makes a habit of butting into another's business whenever it stands to benefit his own.

There is a slip in her demeanor, but it is brief and therefore reveals just enough: that she is well-coached and not part of the common rabble. Far be it a run-of-the-mill commoner to mind their manners and speak in riddles.

She refers to the Tudor dynasty, and so confirms that she came along after Saber's generation. Unfortunately, it also confirms that Saber's beloved England will never be free of those forsaken invaders. Gilgamesh hums thoughtfully.]

A most curious dragon, then, to rely on its poison instead of its teeth. Now, let us see... Deus vobiscum... blessed in the name of God, yes?

[It's been a while since he's exercised his Latin muscle. Not much need for it in the middle of a modern war.]

( England has ever been a prize for would-be invaders. Many of whom succeeded in landing, and many of whom did not. Elizabeth is the descendant of both Northmen and Normans, both of whom had lain siege to the shores of her isle over the centuries. It is ever the way of things.

Though that does not mean she is not relieved to be here and thus granted blessed relief from being forced to the altar alongside the aforementioned dragon. For her country, she would do her duty. But here, she can privately think that she'd rather see him prone on the field among the dead than poised to enter London like some conquering hero of old. The cur.

Elizabeth pays close attention to this man's words now, more than before. He has continued the riddle, and thus revealed to her in turn that he is no ordinary man. )

Its teeth were dull and diseased, and nearly all fell out or were broken during the battle. Ah.. nearly, but not quite. "God be with you."

( It's impressive. Peasants do not speak Latin. Who is this man, exactly? )

A blighted beast, indeed, that it had so many fooled into believing in its brazen charge.

[Then again, Saber was much the same way, all talk and no teeth when criticized for childish idealism and petty contradictions. This woman has now offered proof that England would never earn its freedom, but the King of Knights wouldn't stand for it, he knows. England will always be free, he can nearly hear her say, because that is the England that beats inside of me.

She won't catch his wistful look as it comes and it goes. Sometimes nostalgia hits in unexpected places.]

An interesting turn of phrase, don't you think? "God be with you." "God watch over you." "God is with us." And yet you are here, and I see no God, and I hear the deaths of so many, so where might He be watching? Why has His gaze stilled? So perhaps a better wish might be...

[Gilgamesh turns the locket the over, before a dark red eye, and replies in the same tongue:]

...memento mori.

[Remember that you are human. Remember that you will die.]

Indeed. The poisoned stinger once belonged to the boar, and yet the dragon somehow managed to obtain it. Trickery and deceit and no small amount of cowardice won this battle. If not for that, the boar would have won the day, the kingdom, and my hand.

( Here she has just lain bare her own position in this conflict; as much a prize, a spoil of war as the kingdom itself. Her country should be free. Her people deserve better. After half a century of civil war, and a long war with France and the Plague a century before that.. yes.

They have been through enough. As surely as she has. )

We are not meant to see Him. His presence is meant to be ever felt, never doubted. ( And yet, she might. A little. But a little is a seed, a kernel, and that is enough to grow into more if nurtured. She has both seen and felt more proof of the existence of her ancestress the river nymph than of God.

And Elizabeth still is uncertain as to how to deal with that. This man's words are bold, as his appearance is startling. But she has seen and heard many startling things even before her arrival here. She smiles wryly, inclining her head. )

Et in Arcadia ego.

( Everyone does; that much she knows of a surety. God and Death both spare none. Young or old. )

[It all starts coming together, behind the little puzzles and witty exchanges. A prospective hand in marriage equates to a pawn on a board; this indeed was a lady of the court, perhaps a princess, perhaps higher, but certainly no stranger to the games of men and attempts to maneuver them as a second class citizen.

This was a Saber who put down her sword in favor of politics. Not a King of Knights, but someone simply lost in the shadows, trying to fumble their way about the last place they ever wanted to be.]

So we are among Arcadia. A land of miracles, where some are fated to die and some are fated to prosper, yet all is well, as God is with us.

[The locket presents her a handsome face and a handsome smile. And he almost sounds kindly, almost...]

Did you know that I once fought this god of yours? And I drove him into the ground, for daring to think himself above me.

[...if not for that sharp remark and blatant reveal of sharp teeth.]

( Nay, she is no King Arthur. It has not yet dawned upon her that any woman in her day and age might wield such power. She is no woman of the Ancient World, a time where women have held far more power than in her own. However, she is very much capable of it; she is her father's daughter. He was born for greatness, and so, perhaps has she been.

To be a piece on the board of life has been her calling since the day she was brought into the world. Being a woman, and all. But perhaps she will fumble for a time and find her footing, and become who she is meant to be. Whether that be a King of Kings, or a powerful woman in her own right. )

Even those who prosper are fated to die, are they not? Death comes for us all, as the plague has shown us. But God is ever with those who believe in Him, yes.

( The man's words give her pause, driving a chill down her spine. Her only outward reaction to them is to turn pale, though she is equally confused and frightened as she is utterly aghast at the gall of this man to claim such blatant blasphemy as a truth. )

However did you manage to climb your way to Heaven to do so, I wonder? Or have you wings?

( Yes, she is doubting very much that this man, king or noble perhaps but still very much a man, might deign to think himself higher than God. )

♔ I ► video 【open to both courts & backdated to 02/01】

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