A KNIGHT'S PLEDGE.

       “Avenger, I didn’t expect you to make that sort of face…” Diarmuid trails off, averting his gaze and stifling his laughter with a hand. It’s endearing, of course, and the knight is quick to point it out as soon as his bout of laughter passes. 

It’s a late night. In between missions, the command room is quiet and empty, the Chaldea staff having long gone to bed—most of them, at least. Enkidu does hear the scuffing of footsteps in the distance, meaning that some must be up and patrolling, even at this hour. They suppose that one of the good things about being a Servant is that none of the most powerful creatures in this complex need to sleep, although certainly some have taken to it.

Tonight the command room door has been left open. Enkidu lingers in the doorway, hand against the cool, smooth material of the exterior wall. It’s a marvel to see that humanity had grown such since their day that they could build such a marvel as CHALDEAS. The astrologer’s ring spins slowly, almost imperceptibly, as they watch, lit up an unearthly from the back by the impossibly heavy floating Spiritrons that make up its core. They do nothing but watch for a few long moments, staring unblinkingly.

A sound from just down the hallway has them perk up and tear their eyes away from CHALDEAS at last, and they lean back to see who might be coming this way at this hour. A familiar Servant’s face—Enkidu offers a smile. It’s that Lancer, the Irish hero—Diarmuid ua Duibhne, if they remember correctly. One of Master’s first Servants, actually. “Hello there, Lancer.” They also raise the hand that’s not keeping them from falling flat outside the door and wave at him.

      Diarmuid has been accustomed to staying awake in the night-- he gets his sleep when he needs it, but some nights, he was restless. His room became suffocating, and the observatory was quite noisy in the day. He didn’t hate that, of course, but the night was usually quieter when the younger servants have been tucked in and are sleeping away. Vigilant as always, Diarmuid feels the need to attend to any abnormalities out of concern for the Master of Chaldea’s safety.

         His face brightens when he realizes that it’s just Gilgamesh’s friend, Enkidu, taking residence in the command room right now. He offers them a wave in return, walking up to them. “Greetings to you as well, Lancer.” Diarmuid smiles, deciding that he would simply stick to their class name. Something about using their real name made him feel like he’d incur a certain someone’s wrath...