[ It doesn't take long for Mordred to notice her father visiting one house repeatedly. She's seen the girl around before — Magilou's bright, obnoxious colourscheme is hard to miss — but her connection to Artoria is a complete mystery. And, if there's one thing Mordred feels entitled to, it's sticking her nose in every part of her father's business.
Based on Magilou's outfit alone, she's probably a witch, which makes Mordred even more annoyed at her presence. King Arthur doesn't have friends, which leaves only one possibility: Magilou must be doing suspicious mage things. So on idk a random day after trees happen, and with absolutely no warning, she accosts Magilou the moment she leaves her door; getting right up in her face with an accusing point. ]
What business do you have with f... Blue Saber, huh? You better not have enchanted her! [ Nevermind that this would be near-impossible with Artoria's magic resistance. ] Or is it something else? If you've got some blackmail, you better hand it over right now!
[ This probably isn't the weirdest confrontation Magilou has had on a doorstop in her life - that's what being a witch gets you - so when Mordred shows up, gives her spiel, and points in her face, Magilou just ends up smiling a coy smile that's more annoying than it should be.
"Nosy, loud, rude, childish, and belligerent." Those descriptors that Saber gave her are accurate enough that Magilou feels relatively comfortable making a stab in the dark about the identity of the person before her.
She leans forward right back. Just to be annoying. ]
Oho, the infamous Mordred, I presume. [ It's not really a question, though it's framed like one. ] Do I look like a dishonest witch? No enchantments, I assure you. Just a winning personality and a penchant for mischief.
[ Taken by surprise, Mordred blinks, both at Magilou's closeness and the mention of her name... and then bursts into laughter. ]
Infamous, huh? I like the sound of that! Yeah, I'm the infamous Mordred, alright!
[ Of course she takes it as a compliment. Still grinning, she lowers her finger, crossing her arms over her barely-covered chest. ]
There's no such thing as an honest witch. ... At least, that's what I would have said in the past.
[ Before she met people like Kairi and Maya. She's still distrustful of mages in general (especially women, and ones within a mile of her father), though, so she's not willing to give Magilou the benefit of the doubt. ]
But that dense idiot wouldn't come here for a stupid reason like your personality. So tell me what's really going on between the two of you.
Well, no one's saying witches have to be honest. It's just a nice bonus for the crowd who prefer the pure-hearted. We do work in mysterious ways.
[ So... "the infamous Magilou" is probably equally applicable here. She is digging her own grave.
But that's fine. It's fine. Magilou doesn't really need nor deserve the benefit of the doubt from her perspective, so she takes it in stride, swaying her hips back and forth like she's taking this way less seriously than she should be. ]
[ Anyone else would probably suspect a romantic tryst or something, but Mordred is an idiot. She still hasn't even considered the idea of a Master/Servant contract (the non-sexy kind), despite being a Servant herself. Dropping her hands to her hips, she takes on a more confrontational stance. ]
Like, you've got someone important held hostage in there! And you sent a picture while saying, "come alone, or this one gets it!" Ugh, but that would only work one time, so... Or maybe you're using magic to create mountains of food! That glutton of a king couldn't resist showing up for a chance to fill her stomach! But in that case, wouldn't she stay for longer? If there was a magical source of food, she might just move in altogether...
[ Yes, she's ruining her own arguments before Magilou even can. She runs a hand through her hair in frustration. ]
[ It's probably pretty lucky that Saber has already briefed her on the "king" thing. Otherwise her eyes would be bugging out of her head (or she'd be more disbelieving). As it is - ]
Aw, c'mon. What's shady about a mountain of food shared among the town? You know what they say: Unquiet meals make ill digestions!
[ The unfortunate thing here is that Magilou will poke a hornet's nest just to watch the chaos unfold. Even if that chaos would be harm unto herself. ]
If you must know, I guess the succinct way to put it is that we're compatriots! Comrades-in-arms! United by the joy that is comedy and combat! Where I go, she follows, and where she falters, I strike!
[ This is about the worst damn way she could have described friendship, probably. What's worse is the sentence immediately following, said in a rush: ]
There's also the "exchanging vows for a contract" thing, if that clears stuff up.
Tch... well, obviously. Mealtimes are supposed to be loud and boisterous. But if you put food in front of her, it'd disappear before anyone else got a chance to eat.
[ Mordred huffs, and then... gawks for a moment as she realizes what Magilou just said. A contract? Even she's not stupid enough to misunderstand that, but she can still barely bring herself to believe it. ]
You're saying she chose you to be her Master? As if! Those scrawny little arms of yours couldn't even carry her supplies for one day! [ None of this matters for a mage, of course, but Mordred expects only the very best for her father. ] What's so great about you, huh? 'Cause I'm not seeing it!
[ Nothing's that great about her!! But when she spins on her heel, there's just a flash where her sleeve flies up and a small tattoo is visible on the back of her hand, the three Command Spells that she'd been granted. ]
Why, everything, of course! Can't you tell just by looking? My arms could carry a magnitude of weight that would make mere mortal men mercilessly melt! [ Her arms are like pool noodles. She flexes, as if that makes it any clearer. ] Besides... what supplies does she even carry around? That fancy shmancy armor stuff disappears at will.
Which leads to my next point: it's magical acuity that matters, yeah? I think you'll find that I'm the strongest witch in town. If you need your wounds healed or your debts destroyed, that's what you call me for. And it seems like Saber got the memo! She's awful sharp when it comes to seeing innate talent in people.
[ Never mind that she's one of the only witches in town. The only witch? Eh, it's all the same to her. ]
[ Mordred growls like a dog when she sees the red markings, confirming the truth of Magilou's words. Making a contract is a big deal — what if this woman betrayed her father one day? Only she can do that! ]
Supplies for an army, of course! Even in a strange place, King Arthur is the sort to lead her knights into glorious battle against our enemies!
[ It's a good thing Artoria already told Magilou everything about her identity, huh. The worst part is that she knows Magilou is right — her father is sharp at sensing the capabilities of others, if not their hearts. It's how the Round Table managed to function for so long, despite their many, many, ... many... problems. ]
Let's get one thing clear. I still don't trust you. And I definitely don't like you, either. [ She lets out a sigh. It's as if Saber is a divorced father bringing home a new girlfriend the kid doesn't like. ] But, if you're really her Master, then... we'll be seeing a lot of each other. So I guess we should try to get along, even just a little.
[ That's the most mature thing she's said all day. Probably all week. ]
[ It seems like Mordred is treating her with some sincerity now, and even Magilou can appreciate that. She straightens up for a moment, regarding Mordred with an expression that's years more cynical than her cheerful persona just moments before. ]
Hey, I didn't ask you to trust me. Or expect it, either. If you put trust in people too easily, it'll end up breaking you. You know, the whole, "trust is like glass; if it shatters, there'll always be cracks" thing?
[ She shrugs and leans against the brick of her house, completely disaffected, her words detached and hollow. The markings on the back of her hand stare back at her, the slight burning she felt at their appearance still seared into her memory. The physical symbol of a contract should be proof enough that trust isn't always a bad thing. It is, in some ways. In others... it's never been that simple for her.
But the look is gone almost as soon as it appeared, and Magilou's voice is back to the jovial tone she always carries with her, as though she were pulling it from her pocket as easily as a rabbit out of a hat. Quickchange stage magic works with emotions, too! ]
If you'd like to put a name to the person you're sort-of-but-not-really-hating, it's Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou - [ Said in one quick breath, of course, rolling off her tongue like the time of day. ] - or Magilou for short. Take your pick!
... Tch, obviously. Trusting others freely is a mistake. That's something even the king didn't realize in time.
[ Trusting Lancelot. Trusting Guinevere. Trusting Mordred. Even trusting Morgan, to an extent, and letting the children of a witch become members of the Round Table. What destroyed King Arthur in the end was the people around him betraying the trust he placed in them, one way or another.
Mordred stares at Magilou, half wary of her change in attitude, half confused by her name. It's unpleasant, watching someone switch between emotions so easily; her mother was much the same, albeit always with an ugly, sinister undercurrent. Magilou's hollow words don't match that, but it's enough to set her on edge, even when she returns to normal. ]
What a goddamn mouthful... maybe I'll just call you Witch. [ Mostly to be disagreeable. She smirks, but her voice carries a thinly veiled threat as she continues. ] But know this. Whether past, present, or future, I'm the only one allowed to defile the glory of King Arthur. If you make her do anything that goes against her oath as a knight, I'll turn you to rust on my blade. Understand?
Defile? C'mon, you should pick a word that's less loaded! That sounds like you're gonna do something inappropriate! If you had dreams about being her one and only... whatever your relationship is with her, you shoulda told her that before I got into the picture!
[ Which is... basically the entire point of this conversation! Congrats, Magilou!
The joking facade doesn't exactly slip away again, but her voice is more neutral as she considers the ramifications of Mordred's words. It's probably an empty threat - if Mordred really wanted her dead, she'd do it, and then Saber would get mad at her for some unfathomable reason. With her standing reasonably assured, Magilou attempts to lock eyes with Mordred. She's only the tiniest bit taller, but standing in the doorframe of her house as she is, she ends up standing a little bit larger than she should. ]
Someone like her... Honest, straightforward, and unendingly driven... I'm pretty sure people like that are incorruptible. [ She laughs, just a tiny one. It's self-deprecating, devoid of mirth. ] Even spending time around me and trusting me to be her Master hasn't been enough to bog her down.
Honestly, I think she'd slap me if I forced her against her knightly code, but if it somehow happens, I don't care what you do to me. She might, though, so if you can live with that, then go ahead.
Shut up! I'll use whatever words I want! Body, soul, or country... it's my right to violate anything to do with my father! There's nothing inappropriate about it!
[ It's almost like she's trying to be creepy, except that's just the way she naturally is whenever King Arthur is the subject of conversation. Magilou will just have to get used to ignoring her the way Saber does, now that they're married and all. ]
It's fine if she gets mad at me. In fact, I prefer it that way! So don't think some shitty disapproval is going to save you!
[ This is a blatant lie. She glares at Magilou, trying to make the most of her own unimpressive height and frame... then suddenly seems to realize something, and coughs awkwardly into her hand. ]
Oh, but if she asks if I was here, don't tell her about any of this! Just say we had a totally normal conversation! Or that we never met at all!
That one's even worse! What are you, a villain that goes on monologuing instead of actually doing anything? I'm the only one allowed to make horrible jokes around here, and you're stealing my material!
[ Honestly, at this point, she's just a bit put-out that someone is out-funnying her without even realizing it. At least, she thinks that Mordred hasn't realized the inherent humor in completely missing the point.
At the same time... There's some issues here, and Magilou is simultaneously intrigued and awed that Mordred would reveal her life story in the space between her words. Some kind of desire for approval masked with an indifference to disapproval, yadda yadda yadda. She can't say it's an entirely foreign concept for her.
The threat display doesn't do much to dissuade her. Magilou rocks on her heels, the exasperated expression still evident in the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her lips waver like she'd just been hit by a bus. That bus is named Mordred, and it's crashing right into her life right now. ]
Fine. I'll keep who wants to violate her a secret. Does that satisfy you?
It's not a joke! [ Again, missing the point: ] And being a villain is way cooler than some knight in shining armour!
[ Part of her — the part that never stops looking for a fight, no matter the situation — is frankly annoyed that Magilou agrees to keep things a secret. Of course, that's outweighed by the part that really, really doesn't want to deal with another million pushups worth of punishment from Artoria, so even though she grumbles, she still nods. ]
At least you know your place. Telling her about this would just complicate things. [ Whose fault is that, Mordred. After a few seconds of silent, awkward fidgeting, she hesitantly asks one more question. ] ... Hey. Did father say anything about me? I mean, you already knew my name before, so she must have. Right?
[ She can appreciate the perks of being a villain - it's not like many people call the crew she hangs around with a band of heroes - but the irony of the "knight in shining armor" remark when they're talking about Saber isn't lost on her. The question is just whether it was a random jab or something more revealing than that.
And so... when she hears that hesitance in Mordred's voice, she decides she might as well not hold back. Magilou can be tricky and fussy, but she's not overtly or intentionally cruel. She remembers the days where she was desperate for a father's love. She's getting the impression that her past self might have been kindred spirits with the girl in front of her, even if the family dynamics are different. ]
She called you nosy, loud, rude, childish, and belligerent - [ Which she's pretty sure might be worn as a badge of pride, if she's so intent on being a villain, but still. ] - but that you weren't malicious at heart. So go on, show your soft side all you want! I won't bite, I'm used to the "cool disaffected loner on the outside, big huggable softy on the inside" type.
[ Well. She can still be a witch about it. ]
Edited (catches a crucial typo like 10 hours later im so sorry) 2019-08-01 03:42 (UTC)
[ Unexpectedly (or perhaps entirely predictably, given who she is), Mordred's face lights up at that description. ]
Yeah, those things are all true! As you'd expect from a rebellious knight like me!
[ She should at least protest being called childish, but she's too overawed by the fact Artoria talked so much about her. Magilou, however, receives no such deference; when Mordred hears the word soft she immediately balks. ]
But I'm definitely not soft! Saying that is like asking for me to kick your ass! You should try being intimidated by me instead!
[ Mordred is... well, she's not easy to deal with, that's for sure, but there's some genuine kindness here. It's just not obvious from the first impression she gives. And now that Magilou knows what buttons to push: ]
Nope, you've said plenty. I'm part of a band of villains back in my world, the kinds that don't take "that's illegal" for an answer, but the most evil among us acts all high and mighty on the outside even though she's a big wuss on the inside. Nothing gets past me!
That being said, if you ever want to prove your tough side, then go ahead and kick my ass. [ She genuinely doesn't care. ] But trying to hide it just makes it more obvious, you know!
A band of villains? I knew you were up to no good!
[ ... Nevermind that Mordred herself bragged about being one about thirty seconds ago. Only she's allowed, etc etc etc. She huffs, realizing she's already breaking her "try to get along" rule from earlier. ]
... Whatever. If you were truly evil, there's no way father would tolerate you, so you're probably more of a nuisance than a killer. [ Artoria seems to make a habit of bonding with nuisance mages, after all. ] I'll let you off the hook for now, but don't mistake this for kindness. It's more like I'm giving you a chance to make her happy.
[ Which she hates admitting... but Mordred knows there's no way her or Tristan (gag) can be the ones to do it. Someone completely unrelated to Camelot has the best chance of getting through to her father. ]
Edited (oh right trust is a bit of a loaded word rn) 2019-08-01 23:18 (UTC)
Well, I'm not a huge fan of debts or anything, so it won't be a favor to you if I do. But who can argue with results, right?
[ Apparently satisfied with having pacified(!?) Mordred for the time being, Magilou leans against the doorframe, crossing her legs. Her arms are thrown behind her head, her expression truly without a care in the world. It would almost be callous, but underneath it all is a perceptive eye with a soft, sly smile. There's a lot she could say to Mordred, a lot she could caution her against with her own experiences, but that's for later. They'll be stuck together for the time being, it seems.
For now, she merely closes her eyes and hums softly. ]
I'm not the best at happiness, but just so you don't have to run around town and expend the energy to kill me, I'll try my best.
[ Mordred goes quiet for a moment, staring Magilou up and down, but in a less confrontational way than before. It's like she's appraising her fully as a Master for the first time, rather than looking for any flaw to seize upon.
Their conversation here puts a few things in perspective. Saber's attempts at humour, lame as they were. Her tolerance of Mordred (to an extent), as if she felt less bound by her duties as a king. Magilou says she's not the best at happiness, but she's better than she thinks. ]
You know... the other day, I actually saw father smile for a moment. It was 'cause of some shitty joke she made, but... it reminded me that I never saw her smile in all those years as king. There's no way in hell she'd joke around back then, either. ... Well, it's more like she couldn't, even if she wanted to.
To be human was to be weak. The people cried out for such a flawless king, but condemned her for it in the very next breath. Father's rule was beautiful, elegant, and pure... but I always thought the burden she carried was unfair.
[ If things had been different, maybe the people could have seen the humanity buried deep within the king — that she killed her own emotions for the sake of everyone around her being able to smile instead. If the king had been able to smile along with them, then maybe... maybe they would never have turned against her. Maybe Britain would have met its end quietly, instead of within a bloody nightmare brought about by Mordred herself.
Maybe she's already happier here than she knows. Mordred feels something vaguely like satisfaction in her chest, but turns around before her face can reflect it. ]
Anyway, I'm going before she shows up again. See ya, witch. [ Then: ] No... Magilou.
[ The entire time Mordred speaks, Magilou listens, keeping her weight against the house. It's a surprisingly heartfelt speech, one that she hadn't assumed that Mordred would be capable of from her initial hostility and impulsiveness.
"The other day, I saw father smile for a moment."
She knows, as much as most, that being human is a weakness. Living is the hardest affliction. Having a wavering human heart with wanton desires and whims can hurt more than the most deadly poison. Regardless of the Magilou's Menagerie hijinks she forces others into, regardless of the mirth she claims to spread - Mordred is giving Magilou more credit for easing the burden of leadership and life than Magilou thinks she deserves. What happiness could her miserable, frozen heart ever offer someone? (Maybe it's just the carefree way that she's decided to go about life - but in her case, it's a destructive coping mechanism rather than a healthy way to relieve stress. Maybe she and Saber might have a complete person between them.)
She doesn't stop Mordred as she turns away. Anything she could say feels too much like admitting a weakness, or more specifically, just admitting that she cares. Mordred is here because Magilou cares too much, but maybe for once, it's not the worst thing to come of it, even if it's hard to admit to herself that it's okay. That it's okay to just say that she cares about Saber's well-being right back.
That's something she's keeping buried. All that she says when Mordred turns is a curt, though not cold: ]
I plan on it, Mordred.
[ It's a goodbye, but a surprisingly familiar one. Not to an enemy, nor to a friend - to someone who cares more than she thinks she does, or would ever admit. Perhaps they're more similar than it seems. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
action...
Based on Magilou's outfit alone, she's probably a witch, which makes Mordred even more annoyed at her presence. King Arthur doesn't have friends, which leaves only one possibility: Magilou must be doing suspicious mage things. So on idk a random day after trees happen, and with absolutely no warning, she accosts Magilou the moment she leaves her door; getting right up in her face with an accusing point. ]
What business do you have with f... Blue Saber, huh? You better not have enchanted her! [ Nevermind that this would be near-impossible with Artoria's magic resistance. ] Or is it something else? If you've got some blackmail, you better hand it over right now!
[ ... Because she wants it. ]
please...... bring her worst
"Nosy, loud, rude, childish, and belligerent." Those descriptors that Saber gave her are accurate enough that Magilou feels relatively comfortable making a stab in the dark about the identity of the person before her.
She leans forward right back. Just to be annoying. ]
Oho, the infamous Mordred, I presume. [ It's not really a question, though it's framed like one. ] Do I look like a dishonest witch? No enchantments, I assure you. Just a winning personality and a penchant for mischief.
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Infamous, huh? I like the sound of that! Yeah, I'm the infamous Mordred, alright!
[ Of course she takes it as a compliment. Still grinning, she lowers her finger, crossing her arms over her barely-covered chest. ]
There's no such thing as an honest witch. ... At least, that's what I would have said in the past.
[ Before she met people like Kairi and Maya. She's still distrustful of mages in general (especially women, and ones within a mile of her father), though, so she's not willing to give Magilou the benefit of the doubt. ]
But that dense idiot wouldn't come here for a stupid reason like your personality. So tell me what's really going on between the two of you.
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[ So... "the infamous Magilou" is probably equally applicable here. She is digging her own grave.
But that's fine. It's fine. Magilou doesn't really need nor deserve the benefit of the doubt from her perspective, so she takes it in stride, swaying her hips back and forth like she's taking this way less seriously than she should be. ]
Why, whatever were you thinking was going on?
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[ Anyone else would probably suspect a romantic tryst or something, but Mordred is an idiot. She still hasn't even considered the idea of a Master/Servant contract (the non-sexy kind), despite being a Servant herself. Dropping her hands to her hips, she takes on a more confrontational stance. ]
Like, you've got someone important held hostage in there! And you sent a picture while saying, "come alone, or this one gets it!" Ugh, but that would only work one time, so... Or maybe you're using magic to create mountains of food! That glutton of a king couldn't resist showing up for a chance to fill her stomach! But in that case, wouldn't she stay for longer? If there was a magical source of food, she might just move in altogether...
[ Yes, she's ruining her own arguments before Magilou even can. She runs a hand through her hair in frustration. ]
Dammit, just answer me already!
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Aw, c'mon. What's shady about a mountain of food shared among the town? You know what they say: Unquiet meals make ill digestions!
[ The unfortunate thing here is that Magilou will poke a hornet's nest just to watch the chaos unfold. Even if that chaos would be harm unto herself. ]
If you must know, I guess the succinct way to put it is that we're compatriots! Comrades-in-arms! United by the joy that is comedy and combat! Where I go, she follows, and where she falters, I strike!
[ This is about the worst damn way she could have described friendship, probably. What's worse is the sentence immediately following, said in a rush: ]
There's also the "exchanging vows for a contract" thing, if that clears stuff up.
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[ Mordred huffs, and then... gawks for a moment as she realizes what Magilou just said. A contract? Even she's not stupid enough to misunderstand that, but she can still barely bring herself to believe it. ]
You're saying she chose you to be her Master? As if! Those scrawny little arms of yours couldn't even carry her supplies for one day! [ None of this matters for a mage, of course, but Mordred expects only the very best for her father. ] What's so great about you, huh? 'Cause I'm not seeing it!
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Why, everything, of course! Can't you tell just by looking? My arms could carry a magnitude of weight that would make mere mortal men mercilessly melt! [ Her arms are like pool noodles. She flexes, as if that makes it any clearer. ] Besides... what supplies does she even carry around? That fancy shmancy armor stuff disappears at will.
Which leads to my next point: it's magical acuity that matters, yeah? I think you'll find that I'm the strongest witch in town. If you need your wounds healed or your debts destroyed, that's what you call me for. And it seems like Saber got the memo! She's awful sharp when it comes to seeing innate talent in people.
[ Never mind that she's one of the only witches in town. The only witch? Eh, it's all the same to her. ]
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Supplies for an army, of course! Even in a strange place, King Arthur is the sort to lead her knights into glorious battle against our enemies!
[ It's a good thing Artoria already told Magilou everything about her identity, huh. The worst part is that she knows Magilou is right — her father is sharp at sensing the capabilities of others, if not their hearts. It's how the Round Table managed to function for so long, despite their many, many, ... many... problems. ]
Let's get one thing clear. I still don't trust you. And I definitely don't like you, either. [ She lets out a sigh. It's as if Saber is a divorced father bringing home a new girlfriend the kid doesn't like. ] But, if you're really her Master, then... we'll be seeing a lot of each other. So I guess we should try to get along, even just a little.
[ That's the most mature thing she's said all day. Probably all week. ]
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Hey, I didn't ask you to trust me. Or expect it, either. If you put trust in people too easily, it'll end up breaking you. You know, the whole, "trust is like glass; if it shatters, there'll always be cracks" thing?
[ She shrugs and leans against the brick of her house, completely disaffected, her words detached and hollow. The markings on the back of her hand stare back at her, the slight burning she felt at their appearance still seared into her memory. The physical symbol of a contract should be proof enough that trust isn't always a bad thing. It is, in some ways. In others... it's never been that simple for her.
But the look is gone almost as soon as it appeared, and Magilou's voice is back to the jovial tone she always carries with her, as though she were pulling it from her pocket as easily as a rabbit out of a hat. Quickchange stage magic works with emotions, too! ]
If you'd like to put a name to the person you're sort-of-but-not-really-hating, it's Mazhigigika Miludin do Din Nolurun Dou - [ Said in one quick breath, of course, rolling off her tongue like the time of day. ] - or Magilou for short. Take your pick!
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[ Trusting Lancelot. Trusting Guinevere. Trusting Mordred. Even trusting Morgan, to an extent, and letting the children of a witch become members of the Round Table. What destroyed King Arthur in the end was the people around him betraying the trust he placed in them, one way or another.
Mordred stares at Magilou, half wary of her change in attitude, half confused by her name. It's unpleasant, watching someone switch between emotions so easily; her mother was much the same, albeit always with an ugly, sinister undercurrent. Magilou's hollow words don't match that, but it's enough to set her on edge, even when she returns to normal. ]
What a goddamn mouthful... maybe I'll just call you Witch. [ Mostly to be disagreeable. She smirks, but her voice carries a thinly veiled threat as she continues. ] But know this. Whether past, present, or future, I'm the only one allowed to defile the glory of King Arthur. If you make her do anything that goes against her oath as a knight, I'll turn you to rust on my blade. Understand?
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[ Which is... basically the entire point of this conversation! Congrats, Magilou!
The joking facade doesn't exactly slip away again, but her voice is more neutral as she considers the ramifications of Mordred's words. It's probably an empty threat - if Mordred really wanted her dead, she'd do it, and then Saber would get mad at her for some unfathomable reason. With her standing reasonably assured, Magilou attempts to lock eyes with Mordred. She's only the tiniest bit taller, but standing in the doorframe of her house as she is, she ends up standing a little bit larger than she should. ]
Someone like her... Honest, straightforward, and unendingly driven... I'm pretty sure people like that are incorruptible. [ She laughs, just a tiny one. It's self-deprecating, devoid of mirth. ] Even spending time around me and trusting me to be her Master hasn't been enough to bog her down.
Honestly, I think she'd slap me if I forced her against her knightly code, but if it somehow happens, I don't care what you do to me. She might, though, so if you can live with that, then go ahead.
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[ It's almost like she's trying to be creepy, except that's just the way she naturally is whenever King Arthur is the subject of conversation. Magilou will just have to get used to ignoring her the way Saber does, now that they're married and all. ]
It's fine if she gets mad at me. In fact, I prefer it that way! So don't think some shitty disapproval is going to save you!
[ This is a blatant lie. She glares at Magilou, trying to make the most of her own unimpressive height and frame... then suddenly seems to realize something, and coughs awkwardly into her hand. ]
Oh, but if she asks if I was here, don't tell her about any of this! Just say we had a totally normal conversation! Or that we never met at all!
no subject
[ Honestly, at this point, she's just a bit put-out that someone is out-funnying her without even realizing it. At least, she thinks that Mordred hasn't realized the inherent humor in completely missing the point.
At the same time... There's some issues here, and Magilou is simultaneously intrigued and awed that Mordred would reveal her life story in the space between her words. Some kind of desire for approval masked with an indifference to disapproval, yadda yadda yadda. She can't say it's an entirely foreign concept for her.
The threat display doesn't do much to dissuade her. Magilou rocks on her heels, the exasperated expression still evident in the way her eyebrows furrow, the way her lips waver like she'd just been hit by a bus. That bus is named Mordred, and it's crashing right into her life right now. ]
Fine. I'll keep who wants to violate her a secret. Does that satisfy you?
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[ Part of her — the part that never stops looking for a fight, no matter the situation — is frankly annoyed that Magilou agrees to keep things a secret. Of course, that's outweighed by the part that really, really doesn't want to deal with another million pushups worth of punishment from Artoria, so even though she grumbles, she still nods. ]
At least you know your place. Telling her about this would just complicate things. [ Whose fault is that, Mordred. After a few seconds of silent, awkward fidgeting, she hesitantly asks one more question. ] ... Hey. Did father say anything about me? I mean, you already knew my name before, so she must have. Right?
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And so... when she hears that hesitance in Mordred's voice, she decides she might as well not hold back. Magilou can be tricky and fussy, but she's not overtly or intentionally cruel. She remembers the days where she was desperate for a father's love. She's getting the impression that her past self might have been kindred spirits with the girl in front of her, even if the family dynamics are different. ]
She called you nosy, loud, rude, childish, and belligerent - [ Which she's pretty sure might be worn as a badge of pride, if she's so intent on being a villain, but still. ] - but that you weren't malicious at heart. So go on, show your soft side all you want! I won't bite, I'm used to the "cool disaffected loner on the outside, big huggable softy on the inside" type.
[ Well. She can still be a witch about it. ]
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Yeah, those things are all true! As you'd expect from a rebellious knight like me!
[ She should at least protest being called childish, but she's too overawed by the fact Artoria talked so much about her. Magilou, however, receives no such deference; when Mordred hears the word soft she immediately balks. ]
But I'm definitely not soft! Saying that is like asking for me to kick your ass! You should try being intimidated by me instead!
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Nope, you've said plenty. I'm part of a band of villains back in my world, the kinds that don't take "that's illegal" for an answer, but the most evil among us acts all high and mighty on the outside even though she's a big wuss on the inside. Nothing gets past me!
That being said, if you ever want to prove your tough side, then go ahead and kick my ass. [ She genuinely doesn't care. ] But trying to hide it just makes it more obvious, you know!
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[ ... Nevermind that Mordred herself bragged about being one about thirty seconds ago. Only she's allowed, etc etc etc. She huffs, realizing she's already breaking her "try to get along" rule from earlier. ]
... Whatever. If you were truly evil, there's no way father would tolerate you, so you're probably more of a nuisance than a killer. [ Artoria seems to make a habit of bonding with nuisance mages, after all. ] I'll let you off the hook for now, but don't mistake this for kindness. It's more like I'm giving you a chance to make her happy.
[ Which she hates admitting... but Mordred knows there's no way her or Tristan (gag) can be the ones to do it. Someone completely unrelated to Camelot has the best chance of getting through to her father. ]
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[ Apparently satisfied with having pacified(!?) Mordred for the time being, Magilou leans against the doorframe, crossing her legs. Her arms are thrown behind her head, her expression truly without a care in the world. It would almost be callous, but underneath it all is a perceptive eye with a soft, sly smile. There's a lot she could say to Mordred, a lot she could caution her against with her own experiences, but that's for later. They'll be stuck together for the time being, it seems.
For now, she merely closes her eyes and hums softly. ]
I'm not the best at happiness, but just so you don't have to run around town and expend the energy to kill me, I'll try my best.
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Their conversation here puts a few things in perspective. Saber's attempts at humour, lame as they were. Her tolerance of Mordred (to an extent), as if she felt less bound by her duties as a king. Magilou says she's not the best at happiness, but she's better than she thinks. ]
You know... the other day, I actually saw father smile for a moment. It was 'cause of some shitty joke she made, but... it reminded me that I never saw her smile in all those years as king. There's no way in hell she'd joke around back then, either. ... Well, it's more like she couldn't, even if she wanted to.
To be human was to be weak. The people cried out for such a flawless king, but condemned her for it in the very next breath. Father's rule was beautiful, elegant, and pure... but I always thought the burden she carried was unfair.
[ If things had been different, maybe the people could have seen the humanity buried deep within the king — that she killed her own emotions for the sake of everyone around her being able to smile instead. If the king had been able to smile along with them, then maybe... maybe they would never have turned against her. Maybe Britain would have met its end quietly, instead of within a bloody nightmare brought about by Mordred herself.
Maybe she's already happier here than she knows. Mordred feels something vaguely like satisfaction in her chest, but turns around before her face can reflect it. ]
Anyway, I'm going before she shows up again. See ya, witch. [ Then: ] No... Magilou.
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"The other day, I saw father smile for a moment."
She knows, as much as most, that being human is a weakness. Living is the hardest affliction. Having a wavering human heart with wanton desires and whims can hurt more than the most deadly poison. Regardless of the Magilou's Menagerie hijinks she forces others into, regardless of the mirth she claims to spread - Mordred is giving Magilou more credit for easing the burden of leadership and life than Magilou thinks she deserves. What happiness could her miserable, frozen heart ever offer someone? (Maybe it's just the carefree way that she's decided to go about life - but in her case, it's a destructive coping mechanism rather than a healthy way to relieve stress. Maybe she and Saber might have a complete person between them.)
She doesn't stop Mordred as she turns away. Anything she could say feels too much like admitting a weakness, or more specifically, just admitting that she cares. Mordred is here because Magilou cares too much, but maybe for once, it's not the worst thing to come of it, even if it's hard to admit to herself that it's okay. That it's okay to just say that she cares about Saber's well-being right back.
That's something she's keeping buried. All that she says when Mordred turns is a curt, though not cold: ]
I plan on it, Mordred.
[ It's a goodbye, but a surprisingly familiar one. Not to an enemy, nor to a friend - to someone who cares more than she thinks she does, or would ever admit. Perhaps they're more similar than it seems. ]