The only thing she remembers is blood, not even her own name.
Waking up in a strange house in a 'far-off' land, Arturia Pendragon cannot remember a single thing of her past life, luckily she is found just in time to be able to keep on living. With...
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"Arturia," Diarmuid had his back to her because he had been cooking for a while now. He wanted to feel the name on his lips, see how he found it. Of course it was much easier to pronounce, even if Guinevere was a softer name.
She turned her head towards him and blinked a couple of times, "Yes?" She mumbled as she patiently awaited a response, unsure of what he was going to say next.
"I like it better than Guinevere." He turned back and gave her a soft smile, showing her that he was genuine.
She was a little amazed because he had not asked her any questions about her real name and about her fake name. He had not even touched upon the subject of what had happened in the forest and why she was feeling a bit scared for the past day.
She only looked at him, no response left her lips because she was unsure of what to say in return, and it was a knock on the door that had made them both flinch. "I will go and answer it," Diarmuid assured her as he saw a spark of fear in her eyes, she was starting to seem different. She was a little more distressed and scared than he had seen her when she was holding a fireplace poker to his back; that fact sort of saddened him.
Upon opening the door, he had already regretted the decision. Standing in front of him was a certain prince, his arms crossed over his chest and with a nice red velvet cloak covering him and shielding him from the cold weather, "Hello, my hound." He was clearly irritated that the disappointment leaked into his voice.
"Prince Gilgamesh," Dairmuid gave a short bow, still acknowledging the fact that the male before him was in a higher class than himself; even if he was not Irish, "What finds your grace here? Are you having trouble with your personal knights?"
"Mediocre knights..." he rephrase, "Where is Guinevere? You found her, I am guessing..." Gilgamesh pushed past Diarmuid and entered the small cabin. "Ugh, are you making potato stew?" Her wrinkled his nose at the smell of the soup.
"Yes." Diarmuid did not comment on the Prince's childish behaviour, instead he made sure not to sound too annoyed.
"Ah," he nodded, "I thought as much." Passing over to the kitchen, he noted that the female he was looking for was not there, but rather she was standing near the dinner table with the knight's yellow lance in hand, "Oh! Hello, Lady Guinevere," he smirked, "What are you doing holding a man's weapon?"
"I might need to defend myself," she replied, "it is only something females must do when facing men."
"My Prince, I advise you to not tempt her." Diarmuid wanted to let out a little chuckle but held it back.
"She is but a female; she does not know how to handle a weapon." Gilgamesh deadpanned.
"Maybe we should have a duel, my prince," Arturia spoke softly. She was irritated with the fact that he thought she was defenseless, but she thought it best to look innocent. "I could show you that a female is able to fight when needed."
