Chpater 13

Chapter Text

While Spartacus had quickly wondered off, Boudica had led us to a firepit, with rocks and logs forming a rather large circle around it, providing just enough room for all of us to have a seat. After being prompted by the red-head, Mash began telling the general about Chaldea, Lev's betrayal, our mission to save humanity, and Orléans. The woman listened quietly, only interrupting briefly whenever she sought an explanation about certain matters. Part of me wondered where the food she had mentioned earlier was, but I held my tongue.

"—So that's the story," Mash said, finally finishing retelling our adventures. "I think we'll be in your care for a while."

"Oh?" Boudica said thoughtfully, leaning back as one hand absently strokes her chin. An old habit in life, perhaps? "From a foreign world, you say? I see. I guess such things can really happen. After all, Spartacus and I are both here, when we shouldn't be," Boudica finally said with a shrug, accepting the tale with little incredulity. Doctor Roman, who had been listening in, finally chimes in.

"Thank you for understanding," he said in a sincere tone. "So…you are a Servant as well, then?" He asked, wanting to confirm that she meant what she had meant with her words.

"Doctor…" Mash said in a mixture of exasperation and warning at the admittedly tactless way the acting-director had phrased the question. Boudica, however, merely chuckled, waving a hand.

"No, no, it's all right. You don't have to hold your tongue," she interjected, and I rolled my eyes slightly when I hear the loud sigh of relief from the doctor. "Yes, I should be dead already, as I am sure some of you have been thinking. I also see that you find this strange. Perhaps asking yourselves, 'How did Queen Boudica become a Roman general?' Right?" She asked, with a small, wry smirk on her lips. Mash nodded.

"Yes. In the history that I'm aware of you—" I raised a hand slightly, cutting off Mash as I realized she might not have considered how touchy the things she had been about to say might be.

"I think what my friend is trying to say is, shouldn't you be eager to see these two Roman factions grind one another into dust?" I asked. Boudica nodded, a conflicted expression replacing her earlier cheer.

"Part of me does want that. After all, I'll never forgive Emperor Nero or Rome. Even the Celtic gods know of this. And yet, I materialized, to the era right after my death, of all things. I did think at first that maybe this was a chance for revenge, but when I saw Rome overrun by the United Empire…my body just moved on its own. Not for Nero's sake," Boudica said, her eyes hardening at the name of the emperor sleeping not too far away from us before softening slightly. "It was for the people who lived there." She paused again, now with a remorseful expression in her eyes as she sighed sadly.

"Or was it perhaps because I feel guilty towards the Londinium fellows that were brutally murdered in the sake of my vengeance? I don't really know myself, but when I think about it, I've always been like that," she admitted with a rueful smile. "I think fighting to protect something is just my personality. That's what seems most natural to me. So, my apologies to Nero, who wrongly sees me as a 'worthy living opponent', but…"

"Are you keeping your Servant status a secret?" Ritsuka asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he stared at her through steepled fingers. The Servant nodded grimly.

"Yes, because somehow she's more dangerous than before. If she becomes overly concerned about me, who knows what she would do?" She asked rhetorically.

"I think I understand," Mash responded. "You're a proper Heroic Servant. A hero whom others aspire to be. The symbol of strength used to suppress villainy, and to save others."

"Nyahaha, I was just doing it on a whim," Boudica said dismissively, and the somber atmosphere finally began to dispel. "Although, if that's how I look to you, who am I to disagree?" She added, smiling warmly at the Demi-Servant.

"There aren't many Heroic Spirits who could put it like that. Queen Boudica, your pride is dazzling," Doctor Roman said, clearly awed by her.

"Still, Ms. Boudica, I don't quite understand why you chose to stand with Rome."

"It's not that difficult. I dislike the United Empire more than Nero. Spartacus feels the same way," she added, though the Berserker was off doing who knows what. Not that I was complaining about his absence. Nothing against him, but the well-built man was quite loud.

Suddenly, however, Boudica stood up, drawing her sword, though not exactly pointing it to us. I raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're not planning on revealing that you're a traitor or something," I said jokingly. Boudica shook her head as she planted the tip of her weapon into the ground.

"Not at all. I apologize for this, especially knowing that you're probably exhausted, but I must get a feel of your group. I don't doubt your skills…well, maybe I do. Right now, the United Empire controls most of Gaul. Not even Spartacus and I have been able to drive them out. The 'ruler' of Gaul—" Boudica paused, her lips twisting into a grimace. "One the 'emperors', is strong. There's nothing excessive about him, be it body or mind. He's a top-notch hero in both looks, and more crucially, skills. Therefore, I need to know this: Do you have the strength to fight him head-on, or should I use you as back-up?" She bowed slightly.

"My apologies, but could I put your abilities to the test?" Ritsuka and I exchanged glances.

"What did you have in mind?" Ritsuka asked hesitantly.

"Two of your Servants against Spartacus and myself. Spartacus is off readying a clearing not far from the camp to use."

"What?" Roman suddenly interjected. Perhaps his earlier silence was because of shock over the suddenness of the Servant's actions and words. Something I can't find it in myself to blame him. "I thought you were a rational queen, but it turns out you're a hero who 'speaks' with her sword!"

"Now you've got the idea," Boudica said with a laugh. Mordred was smirking, already standing, though Clarent hadn't been summoned. Seeing as how she was currently both the strongest and also the most offensive-oriented of my four Servants, there was no question that she was going to be one of the two Servants to face off against the two. "Now, shall we? Just try not to die," she said, though it was clear her words were more for a humorous effect, as opposed to a warning as she smirked. "When we're done, I'll whip up something delicious for you guys. I did say that I would get you feed, but it will be with Britannia cuisine, and none of the silly Roman stuff."

"A fight and free food? Must be my lucky day," Mordred retorted with her trademark brashness, cracking her neck slightly in preparation. Nearby, Mash also stood after having her own exchange of looks with my fellow Master. So, we had our two 'champions' ready. As much as I am not happy about this turn of events, I won't deny that Boudica had a point, as we followed her. Five minutes later, we had found the clearing we would be using for this test of combat. Mash and Mordred stood on one side, facing off against Spartacus and Boudica. The former was laughing eagerly, sounding quite mad. In other words, a typical Berserker, it seems.

"Any rules?" I asked, watching as Mordred and Mash seemed to be whispering to one another. Were they coming up with a plan? For all that Mordred seemed to focus on using brute strength in battle, I felt she was also someone who wouldn't be above using tactics. Either way, despite being in the dark about their skills and fighting styles for the Berserker and Rider who we had to defeat, I felt confidant that we would prevail.

"Neither side can use Noble Phantasms," Boudica replied. "Do either of your chosen fighters have a problem with this."

"No, Miss Boudica," mash replied dutifully, while next to her, Mordred shrugged, a cocky smile present.

"Eh, with or without my Noble Phantasm, I'm still going to crush you two!" She said tauntingly, Clarent materializing in her hands. "Ready, Shieldly?"

"Y-Yes." Mash said, looking towards the far larger Berserker apparently.

"Excellent. My True Name is Boudica, class Rider! Be careful, for my chariot is extremely strong!"

The clearing rang with steel against steel. Grunts and battle cries intermingled with these sounds of combat, as I watched pensively. I might be confidant in victory, but as history has revealed, fortune is a most fickle mistress. Still, at least for now, the battle seemed to be going well.

Apparently, either Mordred or Mash had suggested that the latter focus on holding off Spartacus while the Saber dealt with Boudica. Regardless of who came up with it, the idea certainly had its merits. Mash's unique class as a Shielder had apparently neutralized any class advantage over her, even the powerhouses known as Berserkers. That fact, when combined with her more defensive-oriented weapon, stats, and fighting style, made her far more suitable at tanking Spartacus's attacks as Mordred focused on knocking out the former gladiator's partner.

Ritsuka instinctively flinched every time Spartacus's sword slammed against the massive cross-shaped shield, and we could see that Mash struggle slightly in pushing back the weapon each time. The Berserker used his weapon more like a bladed sledgehammer, pouring massive amounts of strength into each blow.

Against anyone other than a Servant or a high-tier monster, I highly doubt that one could survive a single blow from the brute. And yet, despite his best efforts, Spartacus's attacks failed to penetrate Mash's defenses. Whoever she had formed a contract with in order to become a Demi-Servant must have been one who was highly skilled in the art of the defense indeed.

"Hang in there, Mash!" Ritsuka called out, his hands balled into firsts so tightly his knuckles were turning white. I grunted, and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Easy, Ritsuka. Take deep breathes. If we need to, we have eight other Servants standing around us who will intervene. Have faith in your, ah, kouhai," I said, the foreign term still feeling, well, foreign to me. My fellow Master forced himself to relax slightly, though his deep blue eyes were still locked on the pink-haired fighter.

I shifted my gaze to Mordred, as Clarent slammed against Boudica's thinner sword. Neither opponent had managed to injure the other, Mordred keeping Boudica on the defensive while the Rider's shield and counters prevented the massive broadsword from delivering any damage. I had little doubt that as the seconds went by, Mordred was growing more and more impatient.

The Knight of Rebellion began to increase the tempo of her flurry of attacks, twisting her body slightly in an attempt to deliver a solid hit by trying to swing from different directions and angles. While her expression was strained, Boudica, much like Mash, maintained her guard, even as the powerful swings began to push her backwards physically.

"Damn it," Mordred roared, her competitive nature driving her forward. Mash grunted as Spartacus slammed his sword down onto her shield, shaking the ground beneath their feet violently. It's starting to look like this fight is becoming a duel of willpower, with victory increasingly hinging on which of the two female defensive Servants is dealt with first.

With her free hand, Mordred suddenly grabbed the top rim of Boudica's shield, pulling it hard. Boudica's eyes widened in shock, while I flinched as a meaty smack was heard as the Rider was dragged roughly into Mordred's sword-wielding hand. Boudica released an instinctive cry of pain, stumbling backwards slightly.

Mordred grinned, and swung her sword in a one-handed blow, though unlike every other time, she has the flat of her blade showing, reducing the chances of the blow causing serious damage. Stunned from the punch, and her shield still held in Mordred's right hand, Boudica was unable to do anything other than tank the blow.

The Rider gasped in pain, bending over before a kick to her midriff from the Knight of Rebellion sent her tumbling backwards on the ground. At that point, I felt that victory was assured, and in less than a minute, my prediction proved true.

It took some effort, but outnumbered two-to-one, and with a handicap in this match, the powerful Berserker was whittled down by hit after hit until he feel to one knee, and Boudica called out an end to this match, pushing herself off of the ground steadily, a small rueful grin showing that she held no ill will to Mordred, who walked over to me, her helmet retracted and a large smirk on her lips as she stared at me expectantly.

"Well done, Mordred," I said proudly, clapping the equally-proud Saber's armor.

"It was a good warm-up," Mordred responded in her usual boastful manner, before looking at a tired Mash. "Good job holding your ground back there," Mordred said, giving her teammate a rare compliment. Mash smiled slightly, and straightened up. She seemed to hold the opinions of full Heroic Spirits in high regard, and so a compliment from one must have felt awesome.

It was also a good sign that indicated for me that Mordred was more inclined by now to be a team member, as opposed to a sorta lone wolf that she tended to be in battle. While it hadn't led to any problems for Ritsuka or I yet, I had always been nervous about that possibility coming up, but what I had just witnessed helped alleviate those concerns.

"Ah. That was a good fight," Boudica said, brushing the dust off of her clothing. The Rider was taking her loss in stride, smiling in a mixture of relief and sheepishness. "I must say, I am quite happy to have been proven wrong about you guys. You have shown me just how competent you are. Thank you. I know you must be exhausted from your travels. My defense and Spartacus's offense matches pretty well together, and yet your two Servants held their own against us. I underestimated you!" She added cheerfully, before sheathing her sword and dismissing her shield. "Well, I promised food, and it's time to deliver on that. All you guys need to do is to sit back and just relax while I show you what real food tastes like!"

Boudica must have been one hell of a great cook in life.

I highly doubt that anyone else would argue against that statement, especially seeing as how much gusto had been displayed after the first few tentative bites of our freshly-made supper.

We had watched as the Rider had placed a cauldron over the now-roaring firepit, and soon a savory smell began to tease our senses as some of us, myself included, leaned forward hungrily as we watched Boudica's confidant ease as she had added in various ingredients without a second look.

The food was very good, the meat warm, soft, and savory, its flavor enhanced with spices and herbs. It was an almost herculean effort for me to not wolf it down, though, unless Mordred somehow got her hands on the pot without any of us noticing, there would be more than enough for a second serving.

"I must say, Miss Boudica, that this may have been one of the finest meals I have ever had!" Marie said, having finished chewing a bite with an appraisingly expression before speaking. Boudica's cheeks flushed slightly in pleasure.

"You're too kind!" Boudica replied dismissively. The French Rider's words gave me an admittedly selfish idea, however, of seeing if Boudica wouldn't mind helping out Chaldea's kitchen staff should she ever be summoned after our return. I highly doubt that Ritsuka would disagree with me, considering how his eyes were screwed shut in enjoyment as he savored his own mouthful of the warm stew.

"You fought well, Mordred," Boudica suddenly said, her own appraising look showing as she swept her gaze

"Well, I was only second to my father in life," Mordred responded. I was thankful she had closed her eyes as she said one of her typical boasts, for I had rolled my eyes good-naturedly slightly at her antics. Boudica hummed before looking at the Demi-Servant sitting next to my fellow Master.

"As for you…Mash, was it?" She asked, waiting on the Demi-Servant, who nodded with a simple 'yes'. "You're a shield-wielding Heroic Spirit, right? I really like you. I know it's twisted to have a weapon solely for defense, but to me, it's far better than to have one solely for killing." Suddenly, an impish expression appears on Boudica's face. "I mean, how can you be so reliable when you're so slim?" She asked.

"Fou?" Mash's critter friend chimed in what sounded like confusion, while a bright blush overtook the girl's features.

"R-Reliable?" She stammered nervously, her hand clutching the empty bowl slightly. Boudica emphatically nodded, her smile widening.

"Yes, when you wielded your shield and stood your ground, as Spartacus launched attack after attack against you…it was like you'd taken root," she said, a twinkle in her eyes. Her tone was an admiring one, and Mash's impression of a tomato became even more life-like. "If 'Lord' Nero is the violence of fire, then you're the riches of the earth. I think you'd be compatible with just about any Heroic Spirit."

Mash looked away, looking down shyly. "…Right," she whispered softly. Boudica nodded.

"Yes, good answer. Indeed, indeed…hmmm…." Boudica said, though to my ears her words sounded half-hearted, as if she was just saying them more for conversation than putting any real thought into them. Instead, she stared intently at the still-blushing Mash. "Hmmmm, hmmmm," she hummed. I was starting to feel like I was missing something here, and Mash looked up with her rosy-hued cheeks.

"E-Excuse me?" She coughed politely. Boudica suddenly snapped her fingers, an excited look back in her eyes. "Now that I've looked at you carefully, yes. I see. So that's what it is. If that's the case, you should have just told me!"

"Huh?" Mordred and I said in unison, and I could faintly hear Jeanne and Marie snickering at us. I swear, Marie's definitely been an influence on the shy maiden, that's for damn sure.

"Excuse me?" Mash repeated, equally confused. Boudica closed her eyes and shook her head slightly.

"Things are getting complicated, aren't they? Even we…ah, I just noticed," Boudica says in an apologetic yet mysterious tone. Ugh, this is worse than trying to bend my head around Da Vinci's whole shtick! "How adorable!" Boudica crooned, ignoring my mental plight as she took a step towards Mash.

"Huh?" She said, blinking at the approaching redhead.

"Come here, come here," Boudica said sweetly, embracing Mash tightly, and pulling the surprised Demi-Servant close to her bosom. "There, there," she croons, rocking her body slightly side-to-side as she continued the hug.

"Ah—W-What is it, Boudica?" Mash stammered, trapped in the Servant's grasp. "Augh…What's with you all of a sudden?" Boudica's smile looked like it was about to become its own entity, so massive it was as she beamed down at the smaller girl.

"You're like a little sister to me. Maybe you both are. There, there." Both? I instinctively look down at my (thankfully) flat chest, then at Ritsuka, who was doing the same. Wait…. "I'm so proud of you, coming from a faraway time period. You're so strong,"  Boudica exclaimed, hugging the slightly-thrashing Mash tighter. Unintentionally, however, the former queen had begun smothering the poor girl with her…'assets'.

"Um…?"

"Boudica, I think your chest is mashing Mash…" Ritsuka said. I whirled my head violently, glaring at him. I'm not sure which is worse: Ritsuka's word choice, or his pun? Damn it, that was a good one though.

"Y-Your chest…" Mash wheezed, her voice muffled. "I can't breathe…" Mash sounded faint, and her struggling started to slow down slightly. Uh-oh. Before I could ask Mordred or Jeanne to help out, though, Boudica laughed in embarrassment and released the faint-looking Shielder.

"Ahahaha, sorry about the energy there," Boudica said, though not exactly sounding repentant. In fact, I suspect that if given a chance, she would gladly repeat her affectionate hug. "You called yourself Nero's ally, so I was on my guard back there, sorry! But now I'm in a great mood!" Finally, I threw my head back and released a loud bark of laughter, staring at the kind-hearted Servant with a lop-sided grin.

"You must have been one hell of a great mother, Boudica," I said, before Mordred suddenly scoffed at that. We all turned to look at her. I had a sinking feeling behind her reaction, but hold my tongue. It's one thing to talk about what I have seen of her past with her. Even with the bond that has been built through combat and on a personal level, however, I highly doubt she would appreciate me disclosing such matters, especially without her permission.

"Mordred?" Ritsuka asked.

"The hell are you talking about, Master?" Mordred interjected with a frown, crossing her arms. "Mom's don't look out for other people. Damn sure not like this." She said the words without much thought, it seems, and in her defense, she hadn't had a healthy example of what a mother should be like. I grit my teeth as memories of a far younger Mordred crying out in pain flashed through my mind.

Fucking Morgan Le Fay…

Whether she meant it to be or not, the result was that everyone, even Spartacus, looked at the blonde with expression ranging from shock and concern, to horror and disgust. Of course, they had no idea just how bad Mordred's…mother…was, both as a person and in how she treated the future Knight of Rebellion.

"What?" Mordred asked, her frown turning into a scowl as she looked around. She looked somewhat uncomfortable with the gazes she was receiving. "What'd I say?"

One Servant in particular seemed to be especially affected by this, and I looked towards her with a critical gaze.

Boudica's eyes went through a dizzy array of expressions, first being widened with shock, then hardened with anger, before softening into one of sympathy. Without saying anything, the Rider walked over to the cross-looking Saber.

"W-Why the hell are you getting so close, or looking at me like that?" Mordred said, startled at her fellow English Servant's actions. Boudica remained silent, staring intently as Mordred's brow furrowed. "Hey, answer me!" Mordred demands, standing up, her body tense.

Uh-oh…

I spring up from my rock, ready to force myself between the two Servants before Mordred starts a brawl or something when Boudica finally broken the tense stand-off.

"There, there," Boudica said kindly once more, rocking the armored Saber gently. "Mama Boudica is here to help you, brave knight of Britannia." Mordred looked over her shoulder, her emerald eyes wide as she stared at me in the closest that I have ever come to seeing her plead. Though, in her defense, I would sure as hell feel awkward, to say the least, if I was in her position.

I also noted what the Rider had referred to Mordred as. An English knight. Perhaps the former queen has a soft spot for any Heroic Spirits that are also from England? I make a mental note to inquire about this as I gaze on at Mordred's predicament in a mixture of humor and sympathy.

At least this time one of our Servants would only have to worry about being smothered with affection, as opposed to also being physical smothered.

"O-Oi, Master!" Mordred sputtered more in shock than anger, trying to break free from the hug. "Can you get this bastard off of me?!?" Unfortunately for her, we were all to busy either smiling or, for the more bold (or perhaps suicidal?) members, laughing at her display.

Finally, I coughed. "Hey, Boudica, while I appreciate what you're trying to do, do you mind letting go off Mordred now? She's had enough," I said calmly, recognizing Mordred's scowl and twitching eyebrow. Thankfully, the Briton nodded and released the smaller blonde, who leapt backwards, crossing her arms and slouching slightly, clearly irritated.

"Yes, well, now that's been decided, my brave knight, if you need anything, just come straight to me," Mordred's new self-declared mother said in an almost pious tone. Mordred scoffed and looked away, upset at the loss of dignity. I'd talk to her in the morning, once she's had time to cool off. I could recognize the signs that she wanted to be left alone, even before she turned around with her helmet covering her face once more as she stormed off into one of the tents set aside from us.

Still, though, as we continued chatting around the fire for a little while longer before we had to go to bed (or at least Ritsuka and I would have to do), my mind was smiling as I reflected on the scene I had just witnessed. I was greatly pleased to see that Mordred might have a chance at experiencing what it was like  to have a mother figure who acted like a mother should, even if it might be too late for the Saber.

'She deserved to be happy, after all, and I had decided that I would do all in my power to see this possibly selfish desire of mine to come true,' I thought to myself in the privacy of my own tent, closing my eyes and surrendering to the warm embrace of sleep.