Finis Chaldea

A ridiculous sentiment it was, but what could she have truly been referencing? It could have been the proclamation itself, or it could have been how he referred to the woman. Perhaps it was even a bit of both. Regardless, it was not a complaint she offered. Of course it wasn't; what had she to complain about? Artoria Pendragon had officially tasted of the heavens, in the most literal sense possible within this era. it was unexpected, she said. Oh? Such a statement could result in only one thing. "Unexpected? Between being spoiled with affections and receiving my glorious seed, I should wonder what you speak of," he jested while tracing that recently-licked thumb across Artoria's bottom lip. What drove her to lick that digit slathered in seed? Instinct? How very interesting. "H'oh. For one so brash and in charge of all walks of life, you play the role of a pet exceptionally well. Shall I acquire a collar and call you a good girl?" he mused, seeming to be in rather high spirits. The clarity found post-ejaculation was not a thing that would haunt Gilgamesh. It never had, but in this case, it never could. Regretless would be his walk toward a future that involved Artoria Pendragon. Regretless and... apparently thrilling at every turn.

Did the rest of him taste like that strange dessert Artoria favored? He wouldn't know. In truth, it was a completely subjective matter, some form of passive effect locked as a requirement of his existence. His form was divine, and all things divine were to be appreciated as such. Nature itself was the reason Artoria tasted what she did, and perhaps that would be an effect that wore off eventually. He'd never tolerated a single person long enough to find out the truth, nor did he ever care to do so. Whatever Artoria tasted now, or in the future, was not his concern; the act of tasting was the only thing of importance. "You are pleased, then. The ziggurat is almost upon us. If your loins burn with maximum impatience, the journey could become even shorter."

The jest of the King of Heroes hit Artoria's ears and she scoffed. He would find it amusing the way she'd said such a thing, but how she meant it was rather open if she was being honest. "Yes. Moving on..." In typical fashion she seemed content to leave such a sentiment with as few words as possible. Why was she always so short? It simply wasn't in her nature to be overly expressive. Both acts were technically unexpected for various reasons, she had no expected to taste something which she enjoyed from someone else's body, she'd also not expected to be bombarded with words that made her feel warm and tingling inside that were factual and honest. These were things she enjoyed about Gilgamesh irrespective of all else.

Gilgamesh's teasing good mood did not seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Actually, his words about the subject of her making a good pet in spite of her normal personality made her look at him strangely. She did not wish to be called a good girl, nor did she wish for a collar, her behavior had been one of instinct not of any particular leaning known to herself. "I seek no praise and I do not like collars," she said clearly, that last bit was a hard bit of disapproval but that was to be expected. That being said, she did not have a problem with Gilgamesh claiming ownership of her in various ways... something about that seemed right. Actually, considering it from her current perspective she did not truly mind him being as he was in these situations. She was often brash, moody and commanding, not having to be so all the time was a bit relieving. Just as right was the action she'd taken of licking his thumb and equally right was the strange feeling that thumb traveling over her lip gave her. She did not understand all of these nuances, but she was quite certain she would not deny a sexual activity that felt right to her. Nor would she deny this non-specific face of hers access to whatever notions kept her without stress. Arguing with her body about it was not worth the extra effort.

Regardless, the Ziggurat was something that they could apparently be back to within a shortened amount of time if it was a wish, and she was asked if she was pleased. Artoria was not a dishonest person by her own nature, and as such she answered honestly. While busying her fingertips to travel along those markings on his chest she'd gotten used to since the end of her Holy Grail war."I am pleased, and the feelings that I had never truly stopped. I am not impatient but I am also not particularly so... do with that what you will," that statement wasn't even evasive. She truly did not feel overly stressed about their movements one way or another. She was comfortable enough in his presence to remain where she was situated in spite of his nudity. She liked when he touched her and spoke to her, and she was coming to find she liked engaging in sexual activity with him. That small curiosity stayed burning in her head though, she also wondered about these markings on his person. She'd never properly asked before either, no use showing real interest, now she was content to let her fingers explore and her mind wander over the possibilities.

Yes was her answer. Surely it was natural for both things to be surprising; they could both carry on shocking each other as such. What of the next thing he'd become curious about, though? He could imagine a collar around the Queen of Knights' neck; it made a very interesting image to contrast her typical demeanor. Alas, it was neither truly fitting nor accepted. The rest, however, he processed as half-truth. Artoria Pendragon did not seek praise; that much was always clear. However, there were some nuances. Artoria sought victory, valorous as she was. Was it not a victory to receive praise from the King of Heroes? Perish the thought of it being anything else! "What a shame. I suppose I'll have to use something else," he said, moving his hand until his fore and middle fingers took her fringe and slid down it. Yes, that would more than suffice.

Whatever the case, Artoria admitted in her own indirect way to her impatience... or at least, a lack of patience despite the alleged lack of impatience. Very well. He took this information as needed, and with a click of his fingers, Vimana's trademark "speed of thought" movements carried them immediately to the king's balcony. There, the ark landed, dematerializing beneath them as Gilgamesh hooked an arm beneath the Queen of Knights' rump to keep her elevated while he walked forward. This place would be nothing unfamiliar to the queen. It was far from well-lived in, hardly seeing King Gilgamesh at all even over the last millennium. Artoria had been the last one to sleep upon the bed they approached, and she would be the next one to lie on it as Gilgamesh lowered her. On his way to do so, of course, there was more to be said. "Hmph. There are many things I will do as I please with. You are included, of course... but we've known that for quite some time, haven't we?"

Artoria found herself being watched by the King of Heroes. Soon enough, he was pushing the fringe away from her face claiming he'd have to do something else with her dislike of collars. That thing he did with her hair made her look away from him just a bit. Why was he so doting? Did she like that? Yeah, probably. Well, people fussed over her a lot, but it wasn't something she generally accepted. It was the nature of monarchy to always have people at one's beck and call. Of course, she was the type of person who wasn't originally brought up to be such a person, so she found it annoying for the most part. Here and now, it was less annoying but somehow still embarrassing.

Speaking of embarrassing, they went from floating around outside to walking onto the balcony into the bedchambers of Gilgamesh. Of course, walking was not the right word. Artoria was being carried in a very strange way. Why did he not just put her down?! She started to protest this treatment her hand meeting his shoulder while his arm was under her rear holding her up. "... Oh," she seemed to have something to say but thought the better of it. After the first few steps she couldn't decide if she liked this or not. Yes, she was an adult and perfectly capable of walking herself. But she did not dislike being held up like this. Was that strange? Probably. "Well, you at least seem to be very certain of that..." she said. If she was going to be lowered to this bed, she'd enjoy her time in the place known as up, wondering what it was she liked about it. Regardless, she seemed content enough to go along with his plans at this point... she was quite familiar with this room. It was one she'd slept in before, so it was hardly something she could not be used to at this point. If she was being honest, she felt at ease in this man's presence and in his country for the most part.

Indeed, he was certain of nothing more than the fact that he'd have his way with Artoria. The process had already begun, and was in progress during this very discussion. All the while, Gilgamesh was gently placing the woman on the bed that would soon enough be theirs. He didn't stop at placement; he kept moving forward as well. The king's own body would become what kept the sitting woman mobile, until she lay back against the bed. Gone was the time for patience. In hovering over the Queen of Knights, Gilgamesh took her right thigh into his hand and lifted it. His place was between her legs, so he took this action unto himself to make it so. "Hear me, Artoria Pendragon. It is not surety that drives me toward you. Even if I were not certain of this moment coming to pass, it would be made the only acceptable path by my own hand."

While speaking, Gilgamesh drew closer and closer still. He wouldn't stop until his lips brushed against hers, but there was far more to the movement than that. In their current position, his tool was laid over her folds and lodged between their bodies by the time one pair of lips met another. Gilgamesh's hand would be found rubbing the woman's thigh once more while he assaulted her mouth, care regarding both of their excretions thrown to the wind.

Artoria was placed on his bed, and Gilgamesh continued to move forward, hovering over her. She found herself leaning back until eventually she lay back against it. Strange, she was not used to anyone having this particular view of her. She stood over many an opponent but being in the position of being below someone was not truly something she experienced. Even if counting her attempted defiling, the struggle of such moments left her without a good view of those moments. This one was very different. She could see him here and now... she came to the conclusion she definitely found him attractive. Moreover, she did not dislike him being this close to her. Her leg was lifted and he took his place between them, fine... that gentle rubbing of her thigh was something else as well. She took a breath hearing the words he spoke. It was not certainty that led him to her, he would have made that happen by his own hand. Artoria's eyes widened at that statement, she did not dislike that earnestness. Even as his girth was planted between them she could do nothing but enjoy the moment. He brought their lips together, seeming not to care about where either of their mouths had so recently been. Would she protest? Well, a hand would be found against his chest but there was no real tension in it. If nothing else, she seemed to be relaxing into it, as her mouth was assaulted. What an interesting taste his lips had, she did not mind it. In fact it only seemed right that she know that information too. The smallest little moan escaping her lips in a moment like this. that little slip of cloth she wore sipping further and further up her hips with the gentle twitching of her legs. She liked this and she was unsure why, but she was only the type to move forward. She kissed him back, her mouth attacking his back as they settled into this new endeavor.

Once more, it seemed as if Artoria was almost prepared to shirk his advances, but lo, that hand reaching out to his chest presented no force at all. It served the very same purpose as before, resting against his torso and doing nothing to halt progress. The same could be said of that little gown she wore as it continued slipping away from the tiniest movements. He'd already been granted immediate access to Artoria's undercarriage; he could feel it through his own. Gilgamesh never even made contact with that fabric until his hand traveled up the woman's thigh, onto her hip where it would continue rising to drag the useless article up Artoria's torso. Minor movements of both bodies had their loins rubbing against each other just slightly, and that alone had him throbbing against her. Anticipation had never been as high.

Alas, he would not waste this moment with hasty approaches; that line of thinking led to the relentless onslaught upon Artoria's mouth. His tongue was entering the space between her lips by the time that dress made the trip halfway up her torso. By that time, he gave up on lifting it. Superior was his hand's purpose in grasping his own shaft instead, redirecting it by guiding it down Artoria's womanhood. Contact was never broken during this time, all the way to the moment of prodding. In that moment, Gilgamesh came to realize this would be a hard-fought battle indeed. Every bone in his body told him to thrust, but when was the last time he'd even encountered the inexperienced woman? Virginity was no trait belonging to the people of his era, essentially from the moment of maturation. A stage of life was being torn away this day, taken with the simple act of walking through a door, in a manner of speaking. It would be foolish to burst through said door. One first had to knock, and knock he did. In the wake of said knocking though, he took it upon himself to push open the door and, in typical insistent visitor fashion, peak his head inside to announce his arrival.

Artoria was not going to push away Gilgamesh. Even as her clothing shifted upwards around her body and his own hovered atop her. That hand she placed against his chest was one which she was using as a point of comfort. Even though she only knew forward momentum and would not change herself for such an encounter... there was still that gnawing itch in the back of her mind which bred nervousness for this new experience. Though she'd come to expect and feel this man within her depths, she had no idea what that would feel like and as such she found herself unprepared. Even so... there would soon be a meeting between them which was not unlike an introduction. It would seem, he'd even abandoned moving her clothing away, to take up a single movement which was this introduction.

Pressure.

That was such a strange feeling. Even with the preparation of the passing hours and the deep seated tingle in her loins, Artoria felt an extreme bit of pressure directly as she was greeted in this manner. She was sure no great breech had been made, but still... she'd liken it to the first press of a knife's blade into flesh. There was resistance, even when the blade was sharpened to perfection and only after a few seconds did the very tip of that blade sink in. This was a torture tactic or one of mercy depending on the placement of the blade. A single moment was usually all it took to bleed someone from the right angle. Luckily enough their mouths were brought together still, she could distract herself remain relaxed and do everything within her soul not to brace against this intrusion. Still that first insertion even of just the head was something surprising and once again Artoria's body seemed apt to do as it wished. The gentle pulses which had occurred within her nether started up again, in a manner which could be seen as an invitation, even her hips wanted to shift gently to allow easier access. Ah, but it was also rather snug, like squeezing in just as the door had barely opened. She could not say whether she would like or dislike this feeling in the moment, but at the very least, no one was twisting this particular knife as it tried to sink in, that was helpful.

There was resistance, and not simply the natural contention of the body. It seemed Artoria's mind and body were on the verge of another war. There was an effort to remain diligent against any inclination to tense; he could sense it within her. Ah, but that was not her job, was it? No... it was his place to ensure she remained relaxed. Easily done, he thought. The hand which steadied his member during its approach needed something to do anyway, so of course it traveled north just a bit─ into the queen's crease. What better way to aid relaxation in the face of one than to provide additional stimuli? Well, if there was any other, it didn't matter. His choice was to let a finger rediscover her love bud. The rubbing that ensued was in no way furious, and in fact barely registered as movement at all. However, it was joined by the pulse of his member in sequence. He'd put an entire orchestra between her legs if she had enough receptors for it, but... this would suffice as the slightest of thrusts began. Tip in, tip out─ that would be enough for a start. Of course, his efforts above the belt would pause for nothing. It seemed he'd never gotten enough of a sample for the taste of Artoria's mouth. Even now, his tongue swam around inside as if it were having its first experience with a new point of focus. He would soon take the next big leap... but not yet; not yet at all. For now, for the sake of acclimation, he found this sufficient.

Artoria was indeed in a bit of a battle. It was lesser than most, but to fight the most natural of her inclinations was difficult... she often did such things but the difference between battle and dance was becoming known in a moment like this. Relaxing was difficult to do when you were actively trying to do so... but this was not a solo endeavor. It was presented to be the case, that Gilgamesh understood the nature of her plight and sought to ease it for it her a bit. His hand was now found between her folds, ever so gently teasing. Warmth spread across her face in a moment like this and her mind's functions ceased for just a second as she exhaled a breath. Her mouth was now open to the invasion presented by Gilgamesh and she found interest in his taste of her mouth.

Surrender.

That word almost did not exist for Artoria Pendragon. But her body agreed enough with the notion that she sank deeper, her body losing the edge of its external tensions. Her lips moved against his and that hand resting against his chest began to move. She was tracing the muscles of his chest, up to his shoulder before slipping around the back of his neck. There those fingers gently traced his hairline and the skin on the back of his neck... at her fingertips she found extra relaxation just as she did in her careful inspection of her newest weapon. This was distracting a bit, enough for those little thrusts of his tip to feel less intrusive than she'd originally thought. The more they happened, the more she was certain it would eventually find its home within her person. Actually, that was wrong, she wasn't just certain she was sure her body was inviting it, with gentle pulses as she moved closer and closer towards that lovely feeling she'd come to understand fully in the last few hours. Though admittedly feeling it in this case would be quite different than before.