Tale of Two Ages

Chapter Seven – King's Road

Author's Note: As usual, I apologize for the long wait. Everyone who has reviewed/commented/followed/favorited/gave a kudos has my heartfelt thank you. Your support is what writes this fanfic. If it weren't for you guys, these ideas would have never escaped my brain.

21st Century United Kingdom

London, England

That did not go well, Lancer muses as his fingers tap an erratic rhythm on the windowsill. Guinevere looked so tormented when she saw him, so eager to flee his presence. She probably knew who he was long before he said her name and confirmed his identity, but he does not blame her for wishing he was someone else instead.

Lancer's fingers stop their unfocused dance and only the tight set of their owner's shoulders belie his tension. Guinevere, Guinevere…

Memories from their last meeting come unbidden to his mind.

Guinevere stares at the king. She is kneeling, disheveled on the other side of iron bars. Her velvet dress is covered in days worth of dirt. "Arthur," she whispers, almost as if she cannot believe the sight in front of her eyes. "You have come."

Lancer exhales and runs a hand through his hair. He knows how it ended and it is not something he wishes to remember. Her presence in the Grail War will be troublesome, he notes. She is not someone he can willfully harm, so they would be at a severe disadvantage should Guinevere ever betray them. And given her earlier reaction, he is unsure how likely that would be.

A moment of concentration tells him that Archer has not left the building. He snorts. If it is any consolation, he supposes that she is just as confused about the entire matter as he is.

Shirou comes in a few minutes later. "Rin is in their room with Archer right now," he says sheepishly as he leans against the door.

"I know." Any Servant can sense another from such close proximity.

"Right." Shirou fidgets a bit under Lancer's impassive stare. He coughs and flops down on the nearest bed. "So, is it… is it really you, Saber? The same Servant from the fourth Grail War?"

Lancer smiles slightly and nods. "It is, Shirou. Although calling me Saber is… inaccurate. I no longer wield Excalibur."

"No longer-? Why? And while we're on topic, what-" Shirou waves a hand at Lancer. "happened to you?"

Lancer frowns and scratches his chin. "To be honest, I do not know. I was summoned like this, but before I was summoned there was an odd… conversation if I remember correctly."

"An odd conversation?"

Lancer only shrugs in reply. "While we are on the topic of summonings…" He sighs exasperatedly. "I expected better from you Shirou. Your first summoning was hasty and lacked finesse-"

"I didn't even know what I was doing back then!" He says, back straightening as he raises a fist.

"Yes, I know. But why is it, that at this time, when you should know by now how to summon properly…" Lancer frowns. "I find myself deposited on a field several miles away from my Master? Your first summoning was better."

Shirou winces and scratches the back of his neck. "I-uh… sorry? I did exactly what Tohsaka did and she summoned Archer flawlessly. I don't know. Maybe I made a mistake somewhere and…" He inspects Lancer from top to bottom, causing the Servant to raise questioning eyebrows. "Is um, your new body my fault too?"

"That would be… unlikely. Perhaps it is a cause of being summoned in Europe? Influenced by my legend?"

Shirou smiles brightly, reminding Lancer of his Master's old enthusiasm. "We're not just in Europe, Saber. Er, Lancer. We are in Britain. Your home."

Lancer's eyes widen. Britain. The land of his birth, the endeavour of a lifetime. Even now, he fights for Britain's future, a chance to erase the mistakes of his rule. Or is he?

He is unsure of what being summoned in his homeland makes him feel, but there are more important matters at hand. "That is wond- um… why? Are we not supposed to be in Fuyuki?"

Shirou sighs. "It's a long story. I'm not sure why a Holy Grail War is happening in London, but Rin and I think that the Holy Grail may not be too pleased at attempts to destroy it. This war may be a defense mechanism of some sort."

"You attempted to destroy the Grail?" Lancer cocks his head to one side. "Again?"

Shirou nods somberly. "After what happened during the fifth, it was obvious that the Grail had to be destroyed. After a few years studying at the Clock Tower here in London, Rin asked Lord Ell-Melloi for help. Since he was a former Master during the fourth Grail War, he also knew how dangerous the Grail was."

Ell-Melloi? Lancer frowns as images of a man in his mid-thirties with blond swept back hair come to mind. An arrogant man. He was the Master of Diarmuid, who did not deserve such a cowardly master.

Noticing Lancer's frown, Shirou asks, "You were in the fourth war too. Did you know him?"

Lancer nods. "I did. Although if I remember correctly… he died by my hand."

Shirou stands from the bed and is unable to speak for a moment. "Y-you must be mistaken. He's alive! Rin and I spoke with him just a few days ago."

Lancer frowns at his agitated master, annoyed at the implication of being unable to kill a fallen enemy. Although that was not a moment I am proud of… He sighs inwardly. "Regardless, Shirou, we must focus on winning the war. Assembling theories can wait."

"But-" Shirou looks ready to protest, but just scratches his head. "Y-you're right. Everything will fall in place sooner or later."

Later that day, Rin decides to take the two Servants outside to shop for clothes. They trail behind Rin, careful not to move too much in their ill-fitting clothes loaned to them by their respective masters. They had no choice but to wear modern clothes if they did not want to draw attention.

How much Londinium has changed…

Horses and armour-clad soldiers used to wade through Londinium's muck-filled roads; now, red double-decker buses run over clean asphalt. Sleek buildings made of glass and concrete lie where there used to be bathhouses and farms. Lancer idly wonders if the London Wall still stands. The bustle of the city is not unlike that of Fuyuki's, but Lancer is having trouble associating the fast paced hum of the city to the lazy drawl of life outside the castle from his time.

A surreptitious glance to his left reveals that Guinevere is as silent as he is. He wonders what thoughts run through her mind; is she comparing this London to Londinium, as he is? Is she planning strategies for the war upon them, like they should be doing?

She shifts uncomfortably as they walk, a hand to her shoulder. Lancer chuckles inwardly. Or she may just be concentrating on not accidentally ripping her master's clothes.

"We're getting close to the shopping district now, Archer. You only have to bear for a little while longer." Rin says somewhat sullenly, eyeing the two slightly hunched Servants.

Something on display catches Archer's eye after a moment of walking.

She looks upon the clothes on display with such interest and curiosity that Rin is compelled to ask her if she wants to go in. Archer nods and enters the store, not looking behind her if her companions followed.

Lancer stays outside for a moment, looking at the dress that Archer was looking at so intently. He sighs slightly, wondering if he should warn Rin about Archer's rather expensive tastes. He finally enters to find a handful of people inside the store, all of them looking affluent.

Rin and Archer are by the women's section, with the latter inspecting clothes as if money wasn't an object, not even bothering to look at the price tags. Rin is delegated to the role of a lady-in-waiting, holding Archer's chosen clothes in a basket in her hands. Something she does not seem to appreciate, especially since it her who will be paying for their clothes.

Once the clothes become too heavy, Rin finally has had enough and hands the basket over to a very attentive attendant, who seems rather happy to have a customer such as Archer.

Lancer shakes his head and starts looking through the clothes in the men's section. 'Shopping', as Rin puts it, for clothes like this is a different experience from flipping through the pages of a fashion magazine, as he has done all those years ago with Irisviel.

His lips curl into a smirk as he remembers the sheer amount of girlish dresses that were in the closet of the Einzbern castle in Germany. Needless to say, none of them fit the King of Knights very well, both figuratively and literally. Such clothes were not suitable for one of Arturia's temperament and body.

After that, Irisviel had insisted on looking through fashion magazines. She had suggested dressing the King of Knights in a short skirt, something that the latter found embarrassing, saying that one could not work properly with their legs bared in such a manner.

But the surrogate Master had not been satisfied with that, no.

She had suggested ribbons and ruffles, which were out of the question. Being not a matter of like or dislike, but simply because they did not suit Saber. Also sleeve decorations, which made the Servant wonder when their conversation had turned into making her wear such clothes, she had wondered if Irisviel was teasing her, which the latter had denied. It was the first time she had doubted her pseudo-master.

Eventually, they had settled into letting her wear a suit like Kiritsugu's. Dark and somber, accentuating her blonde hair and green eyes, and ensuring that her outfit matched with Irisviel's white apparel.

"Lancer."

Lancer is taken out of his thoughts when Rin calls him. "Ah. Rin, please let me choose my own clothes." He blurts, still remembering being forced, nay, pressured into wearing unsuitable clothing.

Rin blinks. "Of course, Lancer. I have never pushed you into wearing anything you didn't want to." Then she looks at him suspiciously. "Or have you forgotten that I have lent you clothes before?"

The very idea that the slender Rin, who is only a few inches above five feet would lend clothes to the well-built, 6-foot Lancer seems ludicrous to anyone who might overhear. It is not as if they know that Lancer was not always so tall, after all.

Rin shrugs and shakes her head, dropping the subject. Archer, who is standing beside her Master, decides to interject.

"You had a weird expression on your face just then, Lancer." She asks with a weird expression on her face herself. "What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing really, Gw- Archer. Just… idle musings." Lancer says noncommittally and turns back to the rack, not really wishing to discuss his thoughts. The time has long since passed and the people he remembers have been dead for years, if not decades.

He does not see Archer frown at him.

The pleased attendant approaches them with a practiced smile, mostly aimed at Archer. "Please come this way, madam. The fitting room is ready."

"Just… how many did Archer take, Rin?" Lancer asks, watching as the other Servant charm the attendant as they walk.

Rin sighs, probably wondering what she has gotten herself into. "I don't know, I just hope she doesn't buy half the store."

"I feel that I should warn you then, about Archer's rather expensive tastes."

Her eyebrows raise and Lancer continues before Rin can protest. "If it is any consolation though, she prefers quality over quantity. She may not buy many pieces of clothing."

"But only the finest ones?" She chuckles dryly. "Well, I suppose you would know, Lancer."

He offers a sympathetic smile and resumes his search.

End of Chapter 07

Author's Note pt 2: I honestly wanted to include more things in this chapter if only to make up for my almost-year-long absence. But I feel that there is enough monologuing in this chapter already.

So… this fic is not dead. I have just been struggling to find motivation to update and/or continue due to either school, writer's block, or the lack of a beta. The first one's over by the way for those of you who care. I am now officially unemployed, which is either a good or a bad thing. I don't know. *sigh*

Anyone there interested to beta read? I would prefer someone to bounce ideas and plot stuff with rather than grammar and spelling checks. In any case, thanks for reading.