Difference between revisions of "914/Days Past"

Latest revision as of 20:40, 6 November 2014

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
Welcome to Dún Reáltaí, where the weather is miserable between the months of July and March. Or so it seems, anyway. Every other day it seems a storm is sweeping through, bringing with it howling winds and cold rain. Nothing's frozen just yet, but if the damp chill is any indication, it'll be well on its way as winter advances.

Today, someone's convinced Bedivere to stay inside; a rarity, surely. Probably that someone was Arturia, either threatening him to be good or buying his obedience with some recipie or another involving apples. Since he can't do any work outside or run any patrols, the knight is slumped in a chair before the great hearth, trying valiantly not to listen to the driving rain pattering against the stout stone walls.

He has his battered old harp braced against a thigh, plucking disconsolately at the strings. He's dressed in surprisingly modern clothing today – a pair of boot-cut jeans and a Henley shirt in soft grey, and over that, a thick, warm sweater from some city shop or another; and for good measure, a red plaid scarf wound loosely around his neck. He's cold and he just can't seem to warm up, so sitting in front of the fire is as good a way to waste the time as any.

Honestly, he'd prefer to be working. Patrolling for erosion, at the very least, and helping villagers set up barricades to pre-emptively halt inevitable flooding. But he'd woken up feeling sluggish and out of sorts, and Arturia had effectively forbade him from running patrols for the next few days. And Bedivere, ever the dutiful and loyal knight, wouldn't dare disobey her.

All told, he really prefers sunnier, warmer weather...

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
The weather's been heck on Shirou's mood. He's not taking it much better than Sir Bedivere, really. Idleness is one of his worst enemies. Time spent sitting around and not needing to rest is time wasted. he should be out there searching for home, helping others who need help, or at the least improving his skills so he can be more useful when he actually can help.

And it's raining, so there won't be any Archery practice. He promised not to practice Projection of Noble Phantasms indoors, and ugh...

But, with the villagers working hard to setup barricades, Shirou's been using his own talents out in the rain. Hoisting building material around and using Structural Grasp to point out parts of the barricades that looked under par and needed shoring up.

The young man only returns to the castle after much of that's been done, sopping wet. He's wrung out most of his clothes and hair in the foyer and is beelining for the hearth when he spots Bedivere...

Blink.

"the weather's really not good for anyone right now, huh? Feeling better, Sir Bedivere?" Shirou's tone is a bit hopeful.

The boy strolls right on up and goes for a seat himself to help dry off by the fire...

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"The weather does not agree with anyone." Bedivere seems almost morose as he looks away from the fire, glancing over to note Shirou's arrival. He had heard the boy first, though, and so he doesn't actually startle. It's pretty tough to sneak up on him. The knight sighs. "I would have preferred to make another patrol, but..."

He shrugs, gesturing somewhat nebulously. Arturia forbade him, but he's not about to say it out loud. Somewhere in there he has some little shred of dignity left alive. Maybe. Gesturing loosely to the fireside, he lays his harp down. "Have a seat by the fire. You look as wet as I was yesterday."

"I suppose I feel alrgiht. A bit under the weather this morning." No pun intended, probably, to go by his almost mournful expression. That probably explains why he isn't riding patrol right now. "Aí," he sighs, a single plaintive syllable, "in truth I don't know what to do with myself, today. My lord is resting, and I've already gone over the ledgers..." His eyes settle back on Shirou. "But you did not come here to hear me complain, and it is unknightly to complain. Ah, and speaking of that... perhaps we might speak of the Eight Virtues, since there is little else to be done." He smiles, thinly. "Your training will not halt with the weather, or whether or not you will accept my offer. I cannot teach you swordplay without teaching you the virtues as well."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
Shirou's caught by surprise. It only shows on his face for a moment however. He seats himself, pulls up the chair closer to the hearth, and leans back to gaze at the ceiling. Or he would be gazing, if his eyes were open. It's clear, however, that he's thinking hard on this.

Accepting this all but means he will be trained as a knight... and perhaps, one day, sit on a new round table, if Saber and Bedivere accomplish that.

That's almost like picking what sort of life he wants to lead. And that's already been made.

The flash of that fiery hell striking his thoughts as he thinks on that is a surefire reminder of that.

Can being knightly save people who cannot be saved?

.... chances are much better than using Kiritsugu's methods, probably.

He barely suppresses the urge to shudder at the implications...

"... Sir Bedivere. Can I ask you something? Where do you see this going? Dún Reáltaí, the Union, all this stuff about the Holy Grail..." His words are somberly deliven, as the youth is himself uncertain.

So much has happened in the last few weeks he can't even be his usual hot-blooded self and power through things blindly anymore. He has to think far too much.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"You may always ask questions of me. Whether or not I have an answer, though..." Bedivere glances over somewhat listlessly, regarding Shirou for a few long moments. Where all of this is going? "Mm."

He shrugs, straightening and leaning one elbow against the arm of his chair, chin in his cupped hand. His violet eyes fall to half-mast as he stares into the flames, perhaps remembering his own memory of flames; the fires of rebellion that had burned at Camlann, and devoured the very foundations of Camelot. For a brief instant his expression seems almost troubled.

The knight makes a sound somewhere between a sigh and the faintest hint of a groan. The sound is almost resigned; an outside observer might observe it's not unlike the sound Shirou sometimes makes.

"Truly? I do not know." Bedivere shifts his grip on his harp, regarding the battered wood thoughtfully. "Dún Reáltaí... ultimately I suppose the responsibility of this place will pass back to the winter-witch, its rightful guardian. I am honoured to have watched over this place, but it is not mine. Perhaps we may be permitted to stay, after Lady Alaia has resumed her guardianship."

His fingers drum restlessly on the harp's wood. "The Union... I owe them a debt, so I will serve them as long as I am physically able. Truly, they saved me, before I was reunited with my king. I would have wandered that weald until I'd died, if not for happening across a Union member."

"As to the War of the Holy Grail... I do not know." This time his expression definitely looks troubled. "I could not say how that will end. I hope only that my lord is uninvolved for as long as possible. I do not doubt her abilities... but she has earned her peace, so many times over." His eyes slide back to the fire again, half-lidding. "I do not know. Who can know the future? It is not for us to know, certainly, but for the Lord God. It is for us simply to cope with things as gracefully as we are able."

His gaze then flicks to Shirou, studying the young man intently for a moment. "Emiya Shirou." He doesn't smile, but his voice softens slightly. "Why do you ask that of me...?"

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
"There was talk earlier about establishing a new Round Table, or something close to it. There's no point to it without people to protect though, is there? And I keep hearing that Dún Reáltaí's situation is probably temporary. And Saber's a Servant who keeps attracting attention from all kinds of people, sooner or later a Servant who doesn't care about what world she's from will come this way." And Shirou's tensing as he mentions this.

That could be a disaster.

"Sorry. I'm just worrying over stuff there aren't any answers for, huh? .... the current situation won't last too much longer but who knows what will happen next." He's been separated from his home, his new one is undergoing constant change, and the Multiverse is constantly throwing curveballs!

IS there anything stable to hold onto in this mess?

Relaxing, he leans forward in his chair?

"Because planning for the future's pretty hard right now. There's no helping it when things turn out like this though." He 'hrmphs' lightl, breathes deeply, then faces Bedivere with far more focus.

"Alright. I'll learn about the virtues, if you're teaching them! ... just so you know, becoming a knight's still not a thing I'm too sure about with things the way they are...." He does seem to sincerely want to hear about the Virtues though!

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"Aye, you heard rightly." Bedivere looks to the fire again, one hand running absently along the battered, scarred wood of the harp. "My king wishes to reinstate the Round Table in some form. Yet it will not be only knights of Camelot who will be invited to its counsel, but those whom we deem worthy, who exemplify the virtues and conduct themselves in keeping with behaviour worthy of the legends that survive us."

He pauses, fingers playing lightly over the harp's wire strings, plucking a few notes. "Dún Reáltaí will most likely be temporary. Aye. And we already have been drawn into the War of the Holy Grail of another. Sir Gawain's, to be exact, for we will not abandon my brother-knight to stand alone through his. Yet I have a feeling that some already suspect I am a Master." The knight doesn't quite scowl, but his expression does sour for a fleeting instant. "I had hoped to avoid direct involvement, but it may yet come to that. And you are right about that much; that is not discounting the Wars of other Servants, and other Masters."

"But there is one thing to be learned from this, Master Shirou." Those violet eyes flick back to Shirou, perhaps disquieting in their intensity. "There is much and more in this world that is temporary. Very few things last the reign of years, and I have perhaps learned this the hard way. The legends of Camelot have survived – but even those are not always parallel to the truth of our world, and many of the details are missing or incorrect."

"No one thing lasts forever, young master. That is why it is even more important that we live according to the virtues. The world is an uncertain place, as it ever has been. Perhaps you look to me for stability, as my king once did, but look not to me. I am but a mortal man. I will die, too, someday... that much is fated. This castle will fall and its people will disperse, someday. Only the sun, the stars, and the Lord God Almighty are permanent in this world. Remember that. Yet it is not something to be frightened of, either. Trust in the Lord, and He will not lead you astray." He smiles, though the expression is a little bittersweet. "I have suffered through things that would have put other men down, yet I never lost my faith in Him. And He rewarded me for that faith."

"He will lead us through these uncertain times, too. That I promise. One must only have faith. And if that path leads you to accept my offer, then I will be glad for that. But if your path leads you elsewhere, I will not think any less of you for it. Indeed," he murmurs, approvingly, "I am glad that you understand what a monumental undertaking it will be, for it will not be something you should accept or reject lightly."

Leaning back in his chair, he lets his eyes hood. "Very well, then. The Virtues: There are eight, which were incorporated into the oaths and behaviour that a Knight of the Round Table is expected. They are Militia, Exercitium, Fortitudo, Fides, Generositas, Pietas, Humanitas, and Ingenuitas."

"Which would you hear of first, Master Shirou...?"

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
"Fides and Militia?" Shirou echoes, struggling to pronounce the latter with his accented take on the language. HELLO, ENGRISH.

"The rest I think you and Saber mentioned several times so far. It's the first time I've heard those, isn't it?" He honestly can't remember it coming up before.

"...You're right, by the way. ... Nothing's gonna last, I shouldn't get too hung up about it." He makes a kind of smile - not a very happy one. More like rueful. Will he ever find home again?

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
The knight's violet eyes hood, and for a moment it almost seems as though he may not have heard the request. His gaze is caught in the fire, distant for a few moments. He'd learned his knightly virtues as well, although he didn't always struggle as much as his contemporaries to adopt them.

Bedivere snaps back to reality a moment later, regarding Shirou curiously. Of course. He has no way to know the virtues themselves by making a guess at their Latin names. Latin is a foreign language to him.

"Militia. Courage and bravery. Military spirit. A knight must conduct himself with courage befitting his station on the battlefield, and they must obey the chain of command as well. Doing these things allows them to protect the people, as is their first and foremost responsibility," Bedivere intones solemnly. "In other words, we are soldiers, but even the highest-ranking among us must not allow status to go to our head."

"Fides. Faith and loyalty, honesty and trust. A knight must trust in his king and country, and in his brother-knights as well. Every knight, regardless of rank, is expected to be honest in his dealings. His word is binding and absolute, as binding as written documents seem to be in this modern era. To us, our word is a promise. And we must be prepared to make good on that promise, no matter the cost. We are to be trustworthy, as examples to and champions of the people."

He raises one hand from his harp, rubbing at his jaw thoughtfully. "And that leaves six others. Which would you hear of next...?"

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
Indeed, nothing's gonna last in this Multiverse. he'll just have to protect what he can when he can. Right now, he wishes he could be protecting the life he had and the people that were in it. At the same time... this is where his dream is. It's an awful kind of mixed feeling.

His amber eyes are set solemnly on Bedivere's face for the whole explanation, his attention focused hard. "If only every opponent we keep running into out there acted like this." He points out. They keep running into so many unreasonable situations!

"Humanitas and Generositas? That was something about being helpful and generous...?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"Alas that they do not," Bedivere sighs. "You are right. Few carry the virtues any more, which is why it is so critical that we must remember them, and live them. That, it seems, is Camelot's legacy."

He nods, faintly. "Humanitas. Courtesy and kindness, which every knight is expected to conduct himself with. We must especially remember to be kind to those less fortunate than ourselves. We are to be respectful and kind to all, regardless of their status... mercy and clemency are to be offered even to enemies who might invoke this virtue."

"As for Generositas, that is the quality of charity, and generosity. A knight is required to give alms and charity to the church, to provide for those less fortunate. Or to give whatever they feel may be needed, point in fact. In Camelot, winters were harsh, and so I would gather wood for fuel, and distribute it to those who could not afford it." He drums his fingers on the scarred wood of the harp, considering. "Under Brehon Law, a knight cannot refuse a guest, or a request of hospitality or aid. Likewise, the knight must never demand anything of anyone he himself could not give, for that would not be generous towards one's host."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
"It's kind of worrisome that anyone needs to write down 'be nice' as a rule." Shirou remarks lightly. Lots of people are taught to be polite and thoughtful as children. Not all take it seriously, though...

He listens to all of this, and already things are standing out in his thoughts. "There are provisions to keep good intentions from being abused, right? There's already plenty of questionable staying around.... well, I trust you and Saber's judgement, but the idea of it... how does that work?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"In an ideal world, no, it would need not be written." Bedivere shrugs, shaking his head. "Still, it is our duty to serve as the paragons of chivalry. Our behaviour is to be a role model to the people whom we serve. And that, too, is key. The people do not exist to serve us. We exist to serve the people."

He plucks at a few strings of the harp, regarding the instrument with tired eyes. "That is the purpose of the Eight Virtues, yes. Lady Kagenashi is here because she did, technically, help to dispatch the creatures that had been plaguing this place. And Master Loros is here because he requested." The knight glances down to the harp. "Say what you will of him, but he is a creature of the ancient laws. He will respect Brehon Law so long as he stays within these lands, and if his curiosity keeps him away from meddling in Union business, I will consider it at least a minor victory."

"The idea is thus: A poor pilgrim or traveller begging at the door of someone better off than they will find the safe harbour they seek, always. But there are other reasons, too. The messengers who meet in the hall of their enemy will be granted safe passage," the knight explains. "Brehon Law and the laws of chivalry... they were the instruments that allowed peace in the machinations of kingdoms and empires, both in Camelot and its contemporaries. Protection of the poor and less fortunate, but also, establishment of a basic sense of honour among all peoples; certain constants that could be counted on no matter where and to whom you spoke."

He smiles, faintly, but the expression seems a little bittersweet. "At least... that was the theory."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
Shirou nods, making an agreeing sound. "It's not that I disagree." He just said that, after all. "... I just thought it would be bad if someone tried to take advantage of that generosity. There's always people who won't play fair or follow rules." He's had to be reminded of that recently. Kiritsugu's tactics were anything but fair.

Shirou makes a rather weird face. ... They weren't fair, but they were the best way to take that horrible magus down and prevent him escaping... sigh.

"I do get it, though. It would be hell if you couldn't at least count on negotiations to get anywhere.... and there's plenty of people who need help. Yeah, I still want Evette to come here and be with people... oh, right."

"Exercitium? Fortitudo?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"Of course there are." Bedivere chuckles, but the sound carries a slightly bitter edge to it. Maybe he's thinking of the assassin, too. "That in turn makes it all the more imperative that we hold to the chivalric virtues, young master, for we prove that we are above reproach in this." He gives a curt, satisfied nod. "And the Lord rewards those who keep with chivalry and generosity."

The pale-haired knight nods again, but this time it's in agreement to the red-headed youth. "Aye. That is why it was considered such a dire trespass to breach Brehon Law. For, while that was respected nearly everywhere, chivalry was still spreading in our time. It was my king who codified it, you know; such a thing did not exist formally save by individual values before her reign."

"Unfortunately, I can say little of the state of the realm before my king drew Caliburn from the stone and anvil." He offers a faint flicker of a smile. "Between the Saxon raids and the predations of petty lords, Britain was not much to speak of before my king's reign. Even bickering parties must respect such things. Truly, there is some overlap in both the ancient laws and the laws of chivalry."

"Exercitium. Proficiency, skill, training, and practise. A knight must not be lazy, and he must not rest on his laurels once he has completed his training and won his knighthood. There is always room for improvement in one's skills, and that improvement comes through discipline and training, which is something a proper knight will use to the end of his days." He smiles, then, regarding Shirou in a way that might make the youth uneasy. "That is, in a way, what my training of you is, young master. Even the novice has things to teach to the seasoned knight. Aye?"

He considers for a moment. "And Fortitudo. Strength, courage, and valour. Every knight, regardless of his rank, is expected to conduct himself with courage in the face of adversity, no matter how bleak the situation. He is the one to whom the people look when there is a crisis, and he should be able to handle it in a way that inspires the people. He must persevere in spite of the odds... and he must have a level head in his dealings. Inner strength, rather than strength of arm – he must not lose his calm." Bedivere ducks his head, briefly, with a wistful half-smile. "That lesson in particular was one I was forced to take to heart."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
"YOU did?" Shirou finds this hard to believe, and it shows in his face. Bedivere's given a quizzical, doubting look. "... That's really hard to imagine. You're so dedicated, nothing seems to faze you at all." And here he is, forced to rest because of that habit of overdoing it in the face of adversity.

"...There sure is a lot to being a knight... and this is just the principles. You've had to study other things too, right? To govern a nation and beat the Saxons back..." He doesn't sound happy thinking about it. It's a LOT to ask of anyone... very hard times.

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"I was not as you know me when I first travelled to Camelot. You knew I was not native to Albion, yes? I came from Dál Riata, a kingdom to the north of Camelot. I did not even know Welsh, which is what I am speaking, most times; and what was the language of the court. My training was not just to learn swordplay, or the virtues. It was also to temper myself; to make myself above reproach, for I was regarded with much suspicion, being not only a commoner, but also a foreigner."

He gestures loosely, indicating his pale hair and his violet eyes. "It was one of the many 'open secrets' of the court, my status as a foreigner. I was resented for it, and it grew that much worse when I was appointed Left Hand of the King. Yet it was absolutely necessary that I control myself. I could not give them any reason to doubt my king's decision, or rule, for her reign was still tentative, in spite of her having drawn Caliburn. There were many who resented her, for when I was appointed, we had still not yet driven the Saxons out."

"Aye, there is a lot." Bedivere regards Shirou seriously, but not without a hint of warmth. "Yet you realise this, and grasp it. And yet you still wish to, I think. I am glad for that, truly, and proud." He smiles, faintly, though it fades. "Aye. My training was as much to study as it was to train in the art of war... to learn figures and letters; for reading was not common in Camelot as it seems here. I received the education of a noble. And I put that to use as Marshal of the Realm. I taught myself to be efficient with numbers and logistics, for that was what my duties would require."

"I will not ask that of you, in your training... unless you wish it, of course, and I will teach what I can."

Emiya Shirou (560) has posed:
"Man... the situation all of you went through's nothing short of awful. An uphill battle there and back." And here's Mordred wandering around as proof of how much of it went all wrong.... Shirou makes a face. "Dál Riata... you did mention being from somewhere else, but this is the first time you've named where. You know Kiritsugu will find out you didn't give him the name you gave everyone else pretty quickly.. is there a good reason to give that one? ...And... hm... I'd rather focus on the things I'm good at. I'm not that talented. ...So... the others?"

Sir Bedivere (482) has posed:
"That is the path of a knight," Bedivere agrees mildly. Clutching his scarred old harp, he climbs to his feet, carefully tucking the instrument under an arm. "And that is why so many lack the wherewithal."

A smile crosses his face, briefly, when Shirou questions the wisdom of giving Kiritsugu a false identity. The expression is cold, though, and blade-thin. "Better than to give him what he would have known me as. Have you ever heard of a Fionnlagh in the cycle of tales involving my king? No. History did not remember my real name; when I stayed in Camelot, I was forced to adopt a name that would not sound so foreign. So I became Bedwyr: Bedivere. My brother became Lucan. And my cousin became Griflet."

"Emiya Kiritsugu will not know who Fionnlagh is, and he will not find out who that is through research, I think. Many materials I have heard of do not even know I was the king's marshal." He waves a hand almost dismissively, though, turning away from the red-headed youth. "She took great pains to avoid any impressions of favouritism. We... understood one another, yet I could not allow that to compromise her reign. There was much in the way of misdirection, and layers of obfuscation... save on the battlefield, none knew that we were so similar in personality; that we were so united in purpose. I have no doubt that history has forgotten that, too, save in the most basic of means."

"It seems I was remembered as her first knight, and as her last knight, but I was not remembered as the Left Hand of the King. I was not even remembered as a foreigner... and that now works to our advantage. He will learn my name sooner or later as a Union ally, of that I have no doubt, but I would like to delay that for as long as possible," Bedivere murmurs. "I do not trust him."

"In any case... forgive me. I find I grow weary of speaking. It is time I had some rest, and I have no doubt that my king would order me to look after myself, in any case." Bedivere sighs, a little exasperatedly. That is to say, he'd rather be patrolling, and she won't let him. Even still, he offers Shirou a respectful bow, clutching his harp close. "Fear not; we will speak of the remaining virtues another time, and I will answer any further questions you may have."

"But for now... rest well, yourself. There is little else to be done today in such weather," he adds over his shoulder, already turning to make for the staircase.

With that, provided the red-headed magus doesn't stop him, the knight will take his leave.