IN THE ROYAL CHMABERS, the king Gilgamesh lay pale and still, his complexion dulled by the curse ravaging his body.
The room was filled with his family—Arthuria sat steadfastly by his side, her hand never leaving his. Arthur stood at the foot of the bed, his expression stoic yet filled with concern.
Eugene hovered nearby, his magic at the ready, though it was clear even his power was no match for the divine affliction.
And then there was Elaine. She knelt by her father's side, her hands trembling as they rested on the edge of the bed. Her emerald shimmered with unshed tears.
"It shouldn't end like this," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Not like this, Eugene—"
"There is nothing I can do, I tried to warn him…the curse specifically eats away at the divine, the gods made our uncle, the curse was made to take back not him but his power, their power. Thus is why he returned to the earth, father was half celestial, I felt it when he came back, he was like Artizea…it took a third, he is fighting and losing…"
"How long…" Arthur asked, "6 days..?"
"Hours.." Eugene replied.
Elaine sniffed, "No—" and collapsed on her father.
The door creaked open, and a hush fell over the room as Artizea and Rhyssand entered.
"We came as soon as we could," Rhyssand said, his voice steady yet tinged with urgency. He walked to Gilgamesh's side, his gaze softening as he looked at the once-mighty king now reduced to frailty. "The battle is won, and Ishtar's power is broken. My father—" he paused, taking in a breath. "As the throne's successor, I have the authority to undo what she has wrought."
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, his protective instincts flaring. "And why should we trust you?"
Rhyssand met his gaze calmly. "Because I owe this family a great debt. And I intend to pay it."
He knelt beside Gilgamesh, his hand hovering above the king's chest. A faint golden light began to radiate from his palm, growing stronger as he called upon the full extent of his divine authority, and asked all but a simple question…Almost immediately, the black veins of the curse began to retract, the dark tendrils dissolving under the light's touch. The family watched with bated breath as the mighty king's eyes fluttered open. He blinked once, then twice, his crimson gaze sharpening as they focused on the strangely familiar figure above him.
"Father," Artizea whispered, her voice trembling with relief.
As the light faded, the last remnants of the curse vanished, leaving Gilgamesh whole once more. He sat up slowly, supported by Arthuria, who exhaled a shaky breath of relief.
"Thank the gods," she murmured. "You scared us, again—" she whispered harshly, her voice catching. "You promised…"
Gilgamesh's eyes briefly met his wife's. Then, without a word, she buried her face in his shoulder.
Elaine stepped forward with a bright, teary smile. She wrapped her arms around her father's neck, squeezing tightly. "Daddy…"
Artizea leaned in and did the same. The gesture was hesitant at first, as if she feared breaking some unseen rule, but then it grew firm, a show of love and gratitude.
Gilgamesh stiffened slightly, caught off guard. He was not a man accustomed to displays of affection, even from his children.
"I did what you asked of me," Artizea said.
But before he could react, Arthur stepped in, clapping his hand lightly on his father's shoulder before pulling him into a brief, yet heartfelt, embrace.
"Daddd—" Arthur muttered. "I don't want to be Prince regent, please!"
Gilgamesh gave a low grunt, his sharp eyes flicking to his youngest son, Eugene, who hesitated by the edge of the bed, holding a thick tome tightly in his hands.
Finally, after a moment, Eugene set the book aside and joined the embrace, his movements awkward but genuine. "Welcome back, Father," he said softly.
Gilgamesh blinked, his crimson gaze sweeping over his children. The last time they had been this… mushy, they had been mere children, fighting over who would sit in his lap during council meetings. His gaze softened, his rough exterior melting for just a moment. Slowly, he leaned in, resting his forehead against Artizea's briefly before looking at the others.
"Enough of this, please…" he grumbled, though his voice carried none of its usual edge. "You are all suffocating me."
His children chuckled, stepping back but lingering near him. From the corner of the room,
The king's eyelids barely opened fully before Arthur's voice cracked, "Father, who is this man!" he pointed tot he the figure standing outside. "For hell's sake, he has a beard—How old are you?" he questioned.
William lifted a brow. "Five and twenty…"
Arthur nearly fainted on the spot. A voice rang in his head, "I heard it took the queen 3 years…"A… a male heir? He thought, 'Rivalry?" And then he did faint.
Gilgamesh exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Leave him down there for the good of the realm."
Eugene smiled faintly while crouched beside his brother, slipping something bitter between Arthur's lips. He gagged, coughed harshly, then wheezed, "F—fuck—"
"Language."Arthuria chuckled behind her hand. "Children… this is Lord William. His mother once served as a concubine here in the palace, though she was later dismissed."
"And for the last time—I have four children." Gilgamesh cut in firmly.
William's lips curled into a smile," Mother sends her well wishes and many thanks. It is good to see you again, Your Majesties." He glanced between them with an air of mischief. "So… apart from…war and bloodshed, what did I miss?"
Rhyssand watched quietly, a small smile playing on his lips. He had never seen a King like this—vulnerable, surrounded by the family that loved him despite his intimidating presence. The weight of Gilgamesh's authority filled the room, and for the first time in years, Rhyssand felt the gravity of what it meant to stand before a true King.
Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he finally addressed Rhyssand, "I hope," he began, his voice low and measured, "You do not think your elevation in status means you are near my level."
Rhyssand met his gaze evenly, "I would never presume such a thing."
"You have healed me, but I suspect that's not the only reason you have come here."
Rhyssand nodded, standing tall despite the weight of the moment. "You are correct. There's more."
The room stilled. The siblings exchanged glances, but Arthuria, standing near her husband, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should discuss this in private."
Gilgamesh nodded once, his expression unreadable. "You heard your mother," he commanded.
Groans filled the air.
Elaine said, "So unfair."
Once the heavy doors of the chamber shut behind them, silence settled.
The king slowly sat up, his movements deliberate as he studied the young king before him. "Speak, then."
Arthuria remained at his side. She crossed her arms, and her sharp sapphire eyes studied him, too.
"I came to ask for your blessing."
The words hung heavy in the air.
The king's eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "For what?" he asked flatly, though his knowing smirk suggested he already knew the answer.
"For Artizea's hand," Rhyssand said, his voice clear and unwavering.
A moment of silence.
"So," Gilgamesh began, his deep voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "You think you are worthy of my daughter?"
Rhyssand squared his shoulders, his eyes unwavering as he met Gilgamesh's penetrating stare. "I do."
"Even knowing what she is," he said, his voice deep and measured. "Do you understand the weight of such a task, Rhyssand?" he mocked.
Rhyssand nodded, "I do."
Gilgamesh leaned back on his bed, folding his arms. He was silent in thought for a moment. Then, his eyes flickered to Arthuria. The queen gave him a slight nod, a silent conversation passing between them. He smirked faintly, returning, indicating he was not going to make this easy. "They are conditions."
Rhyssand straightened, "Name them."
"When I took Arthuria as my wife and queen, I swore to her that her name would not fade into obscurity, that the name Pendragon would stand beside mine in the annals of history. I took her name, and so will you," he paused. "If you are to wed my daughter, you will not take her as you are; she is the Crown Princess of the four corners of this earth, and when I no longer exist in it…she will succeed me in carrying the dynasty." His eyes narrowed with quiet intensity. "If you are to be her husband, you must take her name—Pendragon—and all the weight and responsibility it carries. It is not merely a condition. It is a vow. That no matter what trials come, you stand beside her. You do not lead her. You do not stand behind her. You stand with her. And only her. "He let the words settle. Arthuria continued after, her voice low but firm. "Marriage is not easy, and I know you haven't had the best example to go by, nor knew what true love looked like—but—you found it anyway. Against all odds, you found our daughter." She smiled softly.
Rhyssand returned the sentiment.
Gilgamesh's gaze held him steady. "If you accept such a thing, you will no longer be known as Rhyssand Rimat," he said, his tone amused but firm. "But Rhyssand Pendragon."
"I accept," Rhyssand said without a second's thought.
Arthuria raised a brow, surprised at the swiftness of his response. "You don't wish to think about it..?"
"There's no need," he said, his voice steady. "The conclusion would be the same."
For a moment, there was silence, then the king threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber.
Gilgamesh stood, his towering form radiating authority as he approached the man who dared defy his expectations. He stopped just a breath away, his gaze locking onto the younger man's with an intensity that could break lesser men.
"Swear it to me," he said, his voice low and commanding. "Swear on your throne, on your power, on everything you hold dear—that you will protect her, honor her, and never betray her."
Rhyssand dropped to one knee, placing a fist over his heart. "I swear, as Rhyssand Pendragon, I will honor her name and yours. On my throne, on my power, on my very soul. Artizea is my heart, and I will guard her with my life. I will carry the legacy of Pendragon with pride." A small smile played on his lips.
For a long moment, Gilgamesh said nothing, his gaze searching Rhys' face for any hint of deceit. Finally, he extended a hand, pulling the newest member of his treasures to his feet.
The role of protector had been passed into the hands of another.
"Very well," he said, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "You have my blessing. But hear this, boy. If you fail her, there will be no place in any realm where you can hide from my wrath…Dead or alive, you will suffer the consequences all the same…"
Arthuria quickly stepped forward, placing a hand gently on her husband's chest, trying to temper the fire in his words. "You must forgive my husband," she said with a tight smile. "This is his first time doing this."
Rhyssand smiled, "I understand."
Satisfied, Gilgamesh leaned back into the silks of his sheets, a faint smirk on his face. "Welcome to the family. Please take your time in expending it—"
"Gil!" Arthuria hissed under her breath
Rhyssand tried his best not to react. " I bid you both good day," and as he turned to leave. Arthuria's voice stopped him.
"Rhyssand?"
He paused, looking back at her.
She smiled faintly. "Thank you. For everything."
Rhyssand inclined his head, then turned the corner, walking to the exit.
"My dearest wife, I have something to confess," Gilgamesh mumbled suddenly, as though he was holding it in for as long as he could.
Arthuria narrowed her eyes in curiosity. "What is it?"
Gilgamesh folded his massive arms, "You were a terribly dressed man…" he said at last.
Arthuria gasped, "I knew you would say that!" she barked, jabbing a finger at him. "And for your information, I dressed better than you ever did; there was even a vote!"
Gilgamesh scoffed. "Only because I was not trying."
"Oh, please," Arthuria snorted. "You walked around looking like a half-naked sculpture."
He gave a slow, dangerous grin. "And you had the legs of a goddess. Half the court knew it," he continued mercilessly. "All of your knights talked about it. The only reason you won that vote was that half the kings wanted to bed you."
Her face went crimson. "Really?"
"Oh yes," he said, entirely too pleased. "Especially after that little speech you gave about your… type preference," folding his arms. "You nearly caused a riot."
"I DID NOT—"
"You did," he said, shrugging. Two men fought in the hallway over who fit the description better. That's when you found me… after I disposed of them."
His grin widened. "And claimed my reward."
"Gilgamesh Pendragon—" She yelled, shoving her husband back onto he bed, only to be pulled down with the wind. "You smug, impossible man," she shrieked, as he pulled her into his chest.
"I missed you," he murmured, kissing her cheek as she squirmed.
Arthuria groaned into her hands. "If you would stop trying to die every ten minutes, you would not have time to miss me."
"I'm done with all that now, Ria…" he said softly.
She froze, lifting her head. "What are you saying?"
He breathed her in—once, then twice—before meeting her forehead. "I'm saying… I need my wife."
She sighed as she melted into his warmth. "…you have her," she whispered as his arms closed around her.
Rhyssand pretended not to hear, though he smiled, hoping that if he got the answer to his wish, he too would experience such happiness, even with the weight of his new title as king settling on his shoulders. As he stepped out of the chambers with a mixture of relief and determination. He did not expect what awaited him—Artizea and her siblings staring at him as though they had seen a ghost.
Arthur was the first to break the silence. "You are alive?" he asked," I thought for sure you were dead."
Elaine gasped, smacking him on the arm. "Arthur! That's not funny."
Eugene tilting his head curiously. "I am perplexed as well. You were there for a while."
"Only you could make a sentence so straightforward… perplexing." Arthur combated
"Maybe if you had half a brain, you would know that any of them mean—"
"Hell on earth," Elaine mumbled
While they were arguing, Artizea stepped around them, "What was it you had to say to my father?" she asked.
Rhyssand hesitated, glancing at her siblings and parents. "Not here," he said softly. "There's a better place for this."
Her curiosity piqued. "Where?"
Rhyssand extended his hand to her, his voice steady. "Come with me."