Vol 2. Chapter 18. Morning Exercise

Artoria was at rock bottom.

She had her ideals spat on, her kingship ridiculed and dignity torn to shreds in a matter of minutes, all because she agreed to host Rider's banquet of 'kings'.

And to top it off, thanks to her bout with Berserker, the castle was now in ruins, forcing Irisviel and her 'Master' to relocate to one of their safe houses.

So she had spent most of the night transporting items to their new 'home'.

Now as daybreak had arrived, she had finally finished moving everything important into the new base of operations.

Silently, she left the house, leaving Irisviel and Kiritsugu alone, as she had already informed them earlier that she'd be leaving to keep her end of the bargain with Rosalind.

Luckily, her new base of operations was in the same district as Rosalind's home, so the walk wasn't too long.

Reaching the house, she instinctively pressed the doorbell, before noticing the fact that not a single light was on.

Artoria didn't have the chance to regret her actions, as she noticed a light flicking itself on in the house.

She felt a bit bad at probably waking Rosalind or Alistair, perhaps both, up, but she waited in silence, as more and more light flicked on leading to the entrance.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a disheveled looking Rosalind, who had clearly thrown on whatever clothes that were laying around, to make her look somewhat representable.

"Artoria?" She questioned blearily, while squinting at Saber, as if to make sure that she was seeing it right.

"Good morning, Rosalind, I am sorry for waking you up," Saber greeted, while giving a slight bow of her head to show sincerity. "I can come back at a more opportune hour, if you so wish?" She suggested, while looking Rosalind in her eyes.

The sleep in Rosalind's eyes vanished instantly, and she gave her ancestor a once over.

Saber looked tired.

Her eyes were less firm as they had been last Rosalind had seen her, and her shoulders were slightly hunched over.

Those few signals caused Rosalind to furrow her brows, before smoothing out her expression with a light smile.

"Please, come in," she said lightly, before stepping out of the doorway.

Artoria was a bit hesitant, something Rosalind caught on to, and she gave an encouraging smile. "It's early, how about I throw something together for breakfast, hm?"

Before Artoria could give an answer, a light rumble emitted from her stomach, causing her to blush.

Rosalind merely smiled at the scene, and patted her on the back. "It would seem your body has spoken," she exclaimed, while slightly pushing her towards the interior.

Sighing to herself, she stepped inside, and took off her footwear.

"I'll be taking advantage of your hospitality then," she remarked gratefully.

Rosalind merely smiled at her acceptance, and swiftly turned around. "Follow me," she proclaimed, before moving towards the living room.

Artoria sighed to herself before following her in tow.

As they reached the living room, Rosalind slid into the open kitchen section of the living room.

She smoothly tied her hair into a high ponytail, before washing her hands, quickly drying them off.

"Prepare for the height of English cooking, the Full English," Rosalind remarked, while opening the fridge, and pulling out a carton of eggs.

Artoria grabbed a chair, and pulled it closer to the kitchen part of the room. "You sound confident in your cooking, might it be a pastime of yours?" Saber questioned while taking a seat on the chair.

Rosalind gave a snort at the comment, before pulling out a bag of mushrooms.

"Please, my attainments within 'the culinary arts' can be described as bland, or at the level of a grade schooler," she remarked with a hint of amusement.

The comment made Artoria internally panic, as the first part of her explanation was eerily similar to how Gawain expressed his own culinary 'prowess'.

Seemingly noticing the silence, Rosalind turned her head around, and noticed the blank look of Artoria.

Somehow, she seemed to read the internal distress she was experiencing, and rushed to reassure her ancestor.

"Ok, that was a bit harsh, but I can vouch for my capability of making Pancakes, a Full English and a plethora of Cocktails," she explained hurriedly.

The King of Knights gave a slow blink of her eyes, before gaining a confused look.

"That is… an odd combination…" She intoned neutrally.

Rosalind gained a wry smile, before turning back to the fridge, retrieving some sausages, bacon and tomatoes. "Well… I needed something simple and good to eat as a hangover breakfast, and a Full English can be made in one pan…" she explained sheepishly.

She started cutting the mushrooms in cubes, and slicing the tomatoes, before throwing half of them into two separate pans. "The pancakes was the newest addition to my roster of 'perfected' dishes, as I felt a mother should know how to make pancakes for their child," she explained with a hint of warmth.

Artoria felt a small smile worm its way onto her face, before it vanished. She felt guilty at getting along with her 'family', after Caster's comments on her taking advantage of them.

"Not that I've ever gotten the chance to show it off…" Rosalind's comment caused Saber to get out of her funk. "The golems that cook for us have never been out of order since Alistair was born, so I haven't gotten the chance to flex my cooking skills," she said rather wistfully, before humming to herself.

"Maybe I could make a few for my grandkids… Grandma rights and all…" she mused under her breath.

Artoria watched on as Rosalind absentmindedly dropped eight sausages in each pan, before cracking four whole eggs in each as well.

"Anyway, safe to say, I have not made this in a while…" she explained, before pausing for a moment, and dashing for the cabinets.

Quickly, she pulled out two large tin containers, and salt and pepper shakers.

"Almost missed the most important part," she grumbled, before opening the cans, and dumping an entire can in each pan, before adding a pinch of seasoning to each.

Rosalind grabbed some bread, and threw a few into the toaster, before flashing Artoria a smile. "Let's hope that I haven't forgotten anything too important, shall we?"

Artoria closed her eyes, and felt the smell of the food waft over to her, and she gave an impressed hum. Opening her eyes, she raised a brow at Rosalind. "If it tastes as good as it smells, then you have been selling yourself short."

Rosalind only smiled in return, before walking over to the cabinets and pulling out two trivets and snatching two sets of cutlery.

Heading over to the table, she placed the trivets down, and shot her a smile. "I hope you don't mind my laziness, as I can't be bothered to plate the food, so we'll be eating off the pan," she said with a wink.

Saber gave a shrug, as she moved the chair back to the table, and seated herself down. "I do not mind, as I am rather hungry myself."

Rosalind scampered back to the kitchen and stirred each pan a bit, so as to not burn the food, before placing some butter and toasting a few more pieces of bread.

Another few minutes passed by, before she hurried out of the kitchen, and placed a large iron skillet filled with food on top of each respective trivet, before scrambling back and bringing the salt and pepper to the table.

Seating herself down, Rosalind hurriedly grabbed her cutlery, and flashed Artoria with a smile. "Dig in," she exclaimed, before she picked up a piece of toast, and buttered it.

Artoria picked up her own cutlery, and glanced at the food, before looking up at Rosalind. "Thank you for the food," she remarked before scooping up some of the food.

To be frank, Artoria was skeptical about this… dish, consisting of half heartedly thrown together beans, eggs, pork and tomatoes. Rosalind hadn't endeared herself with her own appraisal of her own skills.

But all was set straight with a single bite for her to decide one thing. It was good.

Artoria's food rapidly disappeared, as her spoon worked furiously to chip away at its newest adversary.

As the spoon grazed the bottom of the skillet, Artoria noticed, much to her dismay, that the food was gone.

Opening her mouth, she was about to ask for seconds, but that thought died in her throat, as she felt she didn't have the right to impose on her, more than she already had.

Rosalind wasn't far behind Artoria in the eating department, as only a scant few seconds later, she too had finished her breakfast.

Placing her cutlery on the pan, she shot Artoria a smile. "Happy?"

Placing her cutlery neatly on the pan, Artoria gave a soft smile. "Quite."

Rosalind gave a happy smile, and stood up, picking up the two pans, and walking back to the kitchen. "I'll leave these here for now…" she mused, as she dumped them into the sink.

Turning to look at Artoria, she gave a raise of her brow. "Now, not that I don't like you being here, but why did you come over?"

The question made Artoria stand up from her seat, while gesturing towards the door. "I came here to hold up the end of our bargain," she explained calmly. "Morning exercise, if you will."

Rosalind seemed to perk up at the news, and she quickly scampered out of the kitchen. "I won't say no to some morning sparring," she exclaimed with a nod.

Artoria gave a hum of approval, and followed Rosalind, who had moved to the exit immediately after leaving the kitchen.

The two moved quickly through the house, and the pair swiftly ended up in the dojo.

"So…" Rosalind mused, while picking up a shinai, and lightly swinging it to test its weight. "How do you wish to go about this?"

Saber picked up her own shinai, and mirrored Rosalind's actions, giving it a few practice swings.

"I think we should just start out with a light spar, I could give you some instructions after getting a better feel for your style," she suggested with a raised brow.

Rosalin gave a contented hum, and moved into the center of the room, getting into a proper stance.

Seeing her acceptance, Saber moved to a suitable distance for a spar, and got herself into her own stance.

Rosalind steadied her shinai, her gaze locked onto Artoria's eyes.

The subtle creak of the wooden floor beneath them was the only sound as they both settled into their stances.

Without warning, Rosalind initiated the first move.

She stepped forward with her left foot, shifting her weight as she brought her shinai down in a swift overhead strike aimed at Artoria's shoulder.

Artoria raised her own shinai effortlessly, the wooden blades connecting with a sharp crack that resonated through the dojo.

Undeterred, Rosalind withdrew a half-step before pivoting on her right foot. She swung her shinai horizontally towards Artoria's midsection, hoping to catch her off-guard.

Artoria anticipated the move, twisting her torso just enough for the blade to slice harmlessly past her.

Using the momentum, Rosalind spun into a low sweep targeting Artoria's legs.

Artoria leaped back gracefully, her feet barely touching the ground as she repositioned herself.

She observed Rosalind's footwork—the precision of her steps, the fluidity of her motions.

Deciding to test her further, Artoria advanced with a quick thrust towards Rosalind's left side.

Reacting swiftly, Rosalind parried the thrust, their shinai clashing again. She felt the force behind Artoria's attack—a measured strength that spoke of immense control.

Pushing back, she disengaged and circled to the right, searching for an opening.

Taking a deep breath, Rosalind tightened her grip and launched into a series of rapid strikes.

She began with a diagonal slash from the upper right, followed by a reverse cut from the left.

Artoria met each attack with calculated blocks, her shinai moving with minimal effort to intercept.

Sweat began to bead on Rosalind's forehead as she intensified her assault.

She attempted a feint, drawing her blade back as if to strike high, then swiftly dropping low to aim for Artoria's hip.

Artoria saw through the deception, her shinai already in place to deflect the blow. The impact reverberated up Rosalind's arm, but she pressed on.

Switching tactics, Rosalind stepped in close, hoping to unsettle Artoria's defense with proximity. She delivered a quick jab aimed at the center of Artoria's chest.

Artoria sidestepped smoothly, using the opportunity to tap the flat of her blade against Rosalind's exposed side—a gentle reminder of her opening.

"Your attacks are bold," Artoria remarked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.

"Trying to keep you on your toes," Rosalind replied between measured breaths.

Artoria decided to offer a challenge.

She advanced with a fluid combination: a downward slash transitioning into a sweeping arc aimed at Rosalind's legs.

Rosalind reacted by dropping into a low stance, her shinai angled to block the first strike before springing upwards to avoid the sweep. As she did, she brought her shinai up in a rising cut towards Artoria's arm.

Artoria retracted her arm just in time, the tip of Rosalind's blade narrowly missing.

She countered with a swift strike towards Rosalind's shoulder, but Rosalind tilted her body, letting the attack glide past.

The exchange continued, each movement becoming more intricate.

Rosalind's breathing grew heavier, but her determination didn't waver.

She noticed, however, that Artoria's eyes seemed distant.

While her body moved with practiced ease, there was a subtle disconnect—a lack of engagement that hadn't been there before.

Seizing the moment, Rosalind attempted a bold maneuver.

She feigned a stumble, drawing Artoria in. As expected, Artoria moved forward, perhaps concerned. Rosalind then pivoted sharply, swinging her shinai in a tight arc aimed at Artoria's undefended side.

But Artoria's reflexes were swift.

She brought her shinai up just in time to block the strike, though the effort seemed almost automatic. Their blades locked, and Rosalind found herself peering into Artoria's eyes, searching for a sign of focus.

"You're not fully here," Rosalind observed aloud, her voice tinged with concern.

Artoria blinked, her expression momentarily surprised. "I'm assessing your technique," she responded, though the words lacked conviction.

They disengaged, and Rosalind took a step back, her shinai still raised but her posture less aggressive. 

"This isn't working," she declared, her tone firm.

Artoria looked at her, eyebrow slightly raised. "Why do you say that?"

"Because something is clearly bothering you," Rosalind replied. "Your thoughts are miles away."

"I'm merely focusing on observing your style," Artoria insisted, though her gaze drifted momentarily to the floor.

Rosalind's frown deepened.

She let out a soft sigh before completely lowering her shinai, the tip resting against the floor. "Artoria, please don't brush me off. I can tell something's bothering you."

Artoria hesitated, her grip on the shinai loosening. She met Rosalind's eyes, seeing the genuine concern reflected there. "You're quite perceptive," she admitted softly.

"Comes with being stubborn," Rosalind replied with a small smile.

Artoria exhaled slowly, lowering her own shinai. "Perhaps a break is in order," she conceded.

Rosalind nodded and gestured towards a nearby bench nestled against the wall of the dojo. Sunlight streamed in through a high window, casting a warm glow over the wooden seat. "Let's sit for a moment," she suggested.

They walked over together, the quiet of the dojo amplifying the sound of their footsteps. Rosalind took a seat, laying her shinai across her lap. Artoria joined her, her posture was ramrod straight, though she sported a slight hunch.

A moment of comfortable silence settled between them. Rosalind glanced sideways at Artoria, noticing the distant look that had returned to her eyes. "So," she began gently, "do you want to talk about it?"

Artoria remained silent for a few seconds, her gaze fixed ahead. "It's nothing you need to worry about," she finally said.

"Well, I am worried," Rosalind replied earnestly. "Something's clearly weighing on you."

Artoria turned to face her, the usual stoicism in her expression softened. "It's just..." She paused.

Artoria had a lots of things she could say.

She could speak on her Master's 'exploits', and come clean to Rosalind, probably earning her ire. Which was a bit too risky in the current circumstance...

Or she could mention Casters venomous words, which had been ringing in her mind the whole night. Words which she found to rebuke.

But there was a safer path to tread, one which she was alright with discussing with Rosalind, and she might be able to help her thoughts regarding the manner.

"...Rider's words from last night," she confessed. "They linger in my mind."

Rosalind tilted her head slightly. "What did he say?"

Artoria gazed down at the wooden floor of the dojo, her fingers tracing the grain of her shinai. "He questioned my right to be called a king," she began softly. "Rider claimed that I lacked the greed, the desire that a true king must possess. That I was more of a martyr than a ruler."

Rosalind watched her intently, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "He said that to you?"

"He did," Artoria affirmed. "He believes that a king should embody the extremes of all things—good and evil—and inspire their subjects through sheer presence and ambition. He accused me of abandoning my people by adhering too strictly to my ideals."

A quiet settled between them, punctuated only by the distant rustling of leaves outside. Rosalind rested her elbows on her knees, her hands clasped together as she processed Artoria's words.

"So, he thinks you weren't... kingly enough because you weren't greedy?" she mused aloud.

Artoria nodded slowly. "In his eyes, I failed to lead because I didn't impose my desires upon others. That I was a distant figure, disconnected from the people I served."

Rosalind gave a low hum, her gaze drifting thoughtfully to the sunlight streaming through the high windows. Minutes passed as she mulled over the revelations, her mind piecing together the complexities of leadership and responsibility.

Artoria, meanwhile, found her thoughts wandering. Doubt seeped into her mind like a creeping shadow.

Was Rider correct?

Had she truly failed her kingdom by holding herself apart?

And would her own flesh and blood agree with him?

Her reverie was broken when Rosalind drew in a deep breath, sitting up straighter as she turned to face Artoria. "You know," she began thoughtfully, "comparing your kingship to Rider's is like comparing night and day. The circumstances were entirely different."

Artoria looked at her, a hint of surprise in her emerald eyes. "How so?"

"Well," Rosalind continued, "Iskandar—Rider—chose to be a king. He sought out conquest, relished in his ambitions, and his desire to expand his empire was his driving force. You, on the other hand..." She paused, searching for the right words. "You were chosen by destiny, or perhaps pressured by necessity. Britain needed someone to unite it against the Saxons, and you were the one who took up that burden."

Artoria's gaze softened as she considered this perspective. "I did what I thought was right for my people."

"Exactly," Rosalind affirmed. "You didn't become king out of personal desire or greed. You became king because it was what your country needed. You sacrificed your own wants and needs for the sake of others. That's not something to belittle."

"But perhaps Rider is right," Artoria murmured. "Maybe I was too distant, too consumed by my ideals to truly lead them."

Rosalind shook her head firmly. "Every king faces challenges, and no reign is without its flaws. Both you and Iskandar saw your countries fall into turmoil eventually. But that doesn't invalidate the good you did, nor does it strip you of your title as king."

"There might have been a thing or two that you shouldn't have let fester, but you, your knights and people were blindsided when it all went wrong. And while that is still partly on your head, you had enemies working against you in the shadows, and not seeing them is not your fault."

Artoria looked into Rosalind's eyes, searching for any hint of doubt but finding only sincerity. "Do you truly believe that?"

"I do," Rosalind replied without hesitation. "Leadership isn't a one-size-fits-all. Yes, Iskandar was larger than life, a charismatic conqueror. But you were a beacon of hope, a symbol of unity in a fractured land. Your people needed that."

A subtle warmth spread within Artoria's chest, easing the cold grip of uncertainty. "Thank you," she said softly. "Your words bring me comfort."

Rosalind offered a gentle smile. "Anytime. Besides, who better to understand the weight of the crown than family?"

Artoria allowed a small smile to grace her lips. "Indeed."

Pushing herself up from the bench, Rosalind stretched her arms overhead. "Shall we get back to it? I still have a few tricks I'd like to show you."

Artoria stood as well, a renewed lightness in her demeanor. "I'd like that."

They returned to the center of the dojo, taking their positions once more. This time, when their shinai crossed, there was a brighter gleam behind Saber's eyes.

"Ready?" Rosalind asked, settling into her stance.

Artoria nodded, her grip steady. "Ready."

~~Fate/False Order~~

Rosalind lay sprawled on the polished wooden floor of the dojo, her chest heaving as she gulped in deep breaths.

A thin sheen of sweat covered her skin, and a few rosy marks blossomed where Saber's shinai had found its mark. Her limbs felt like lead, every muscle protesting after the intense sparring session.

Standing nearby, Artoria leaned casually on her shinai, her breathing steady and composed. Not a single hair was out of place, and she regarded Rosalind with a mixture of amusement and mild concern.

"Perhaps we should end it here," Saber suggested gently, tilting her head as she observed the exhausted woman before her.

"Agreed," Rosalind panted, her words rushing out between breaths. "Completely... wholeheartedly... agreed."

A soft chuckle escaped Saber's lips. She walked over and settled herself on the floor beside Rosalind, the cool surface soothing against her own skin. "Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, her eyes reflecting genuine care.

Rosalind turned her head to face Artoria, a mischievous glint sparking in her tired eyes. "Actually, there is," she managed, pausing to inhale deeply. "Could you go next door and drag my son out of bed? Alistair needs his morning beatdow– I mean exercise."

Artoria raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering across her features. "I was wondering where he was this morning."

A warm smile spread across Rosalind's face. "Oh, last night I sent him on a 'mission'," she replied, adding a playful wink for emphasis.

Saber sighed softly, recognizing the sly undertone in Rosalind's expression. "Very well," she conceded, pushing herself gracefully to her feet. "I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Artoria," Rosalind called after her, still sprawled comfortably on the floor. "You're a lifesaver."

Artoria offered a small wave in acknowledgment before making her way to the dojo's exit. She slipped out quietly, the sound of her footsteps fading as she headed toward the entrance hall. Sitting on the bench by the door, she donned her shoes with practiced efficiency.

Stepping outside, the morning air greeted her with a gentle breeze, carrying the scent of winter. She walked the short distance to the neighboring house, the pathway lined with neatly trimmed hedges. Reaching the front door, she pressed the doorbell and waited patiently.

After a moment, the door opened to reveal a woman with striking white hair and vivid blue eyes. She offered a polite smile upon seeing Artoria. "Good morning. Can I help you?"

"Good morning," Artoria replied with a slight bow of her head. "Is Alistair available?"

Vivian nodded. "Yes, he's here." Turning slightly, she called into the house, her voice carrying with ease. "Alistair! Someone's here to see you!"

From inside came the sound of hurried footsteps, and soon Alistair appeared beside his Vivian.

His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Saber. "Artoria? What brings you here?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

"Your mother requests your presence in the dojo," she informed him calmly. "She thought you might like to join us."

Alistair and Vivian exchanged a knowing glance. Vivian's lips quirked into a subtle smirk before she patted him on the shoulder. "Better not keep them waiting," she teased lightly.

Alistair met Artoria's steady gaze, a resigned smile forming on his face. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Saber's mouth. "I'd say it would be informative, but you aren't wrong, yes."

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90 Hours, 22 Minutes And 42 Seconds Until Zero 

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A/N

Welcome back, my reader Overlords, please add this to your library and give me some comments, stones and Reviews, as it would be much appreciated.

Thoughts?

How was the family bonding? Did it feel alright?

And before anyone mentions it, yes, Artoria still feels immensely guilty when she is with her 'family', as Caster's words cut deep. But she still enjoys the time spent together with them.

Btw, I have made a Discord server for the fic, come on and chat with me!

https://discord.gg/8UkprnrG

Now I'm tired and have a fuck tone of Uni stuff to do, so have a nice day, and send me some stones or some shit, I need motivation, or some shit like that.