#fillathon

Honestly, Oberon thought sulkily. If he wanted to watch a soap opera, he’d steal someone’s television. (And he really, in point of fact, did not. Soap operas were annoying.)

The one…okay, one of the many bad things about being stuck in Novum Chaldea as one of Master Komadori Fujimaru’s servants was, well, the interpersonal drama. God help him but it was everywhere! You couldn’t take two steps without spotting some idiot with more issues than a magazine subscription, and his Faerie Eyes made it that much worse. Granted it was a bit more wildly varied and unhinged and frankly slightly more entertaining than Faerie Britain had been, yes, but still. Gah, were Heroic Spirits allergic to communication?!

(Not that he’s one to talk, but he has an excuse.)

And the worst part? Oh, the worst part was that not even their esteemed master was above it all! On the bright side, she was one of the most sincere, genuine, earnest people he knew, and it really did kind of hurt his eyes to look at her sometimes, clear and bright like Proper Human History’s blue sky – and there were icky emotions on his end there that he was not about to properly examine any time in the near ever – so it was a bit less awful than literally any other human ever. But on the downside, beyond her. Uh. Well, she had Thoughts about him he was studiously ignoring, and she had a remarkable propensity for horny thoughts every so often about…a lot of Servants, of both genders, but neither of those things were the problem here.

Oh no. The Komadori soap opera was about one person in specific, and it wasn’t the dead doctor or the samurai chick, both of which he’d heard about and heard she was still pining for in varying degrees. No. No, she had much worse taste than that. (Not that he knew the two dearly departed to judge her taste where they were concerned, but honestly, if she was eyeing him she had abysmal taste anyway.)

It was the infamous golden Archer, in point of fact. The shiny, arrogant, insufferable King of Heroes himself. Why, he had absolutely no goddamn clue. But boy, were her thoughts and feelings a whirlwind of pining and wistful sighs and all that stupid shit that sent her borderline swooning. Ugh! He was too busy gagging internally to parse the mashup of feelings that she gave off when he was in her vicinity, but it was goopy and gross and he desperately wished she’d just say fuck it and kiss him already, but nooooooo. Nooooooo.

And as if that weren’t bad enough, the stupid king was giving off the same bullshit pining nonsense! You’d think, given his attitude about basically everything, he’d be the first one to do something about it, sweeping her off her feet and declaring her His and making some arrogant proclamations about treasure or some dumbass shit. He didn’t seem the type to pine. And yet here the idiot was, watching her when her back was turned with the most stupidly fond expression on his face, and physically restraining himself from calling her whatever it was – probably some sappy ass nickname – that popped into his head every time he talked to her.

And of course, half the time he walked into the cafeteria to filch a meal from someone not paying attention, there they were. Being stupid. In front of his salad! Yeesh.

Thusly irritated, he spots one of his own usual targets and waltzes over, perching daintily in the seat beside her and resting his chin on a hand to beam sunnily at his Artoria, the Caster sitting distractedly with her tray of food in front of her. If he was going to be in a sour mood, he sure wasn’t going to be in one alone if he had anything to say about it!

“Gooooooood morning, Artoria~!” He chirps, his false cheer turned up to Extremely Grating levels for this early in the morning. “And how are we this fine day~? Why the long face?” He reaches out to steal a strawberry from her fruit cup just to add insult to injury, but she barely notices. Huh.

Instead, she flops onto the table, her forehead hitting it with a solid thunk. “Why is she so stupid,” she groans, voice muffled. “Smart about everything else, and yet. And yet. Gahhhhh.”

Oberon blinks slowly. “And you would be referring tooooo….?”

She tilts her head to peer up at him, one of her green eyes fixing him with the most deadpan look she can muster, which is definitely nothing to sneeze at. “Komadori. Duh. You can see it too, or you wouldn’t be trying extra hard to piss me off this morning. You always try to needle people when you’re in a bad mood.”

…well, he’s not going to belabor the fact that she knows him that well, even if he absolutely resents the hell out of it. In any case, she’s right, and he steals a grape and sticks his tongue out at her before popping it in his mouth.

“Busted,” he says, sighing dramatically. “Honestly, it’s exasperating. Look at them! I’d thought that King of Heroes was the type to take what he wants whether you want him to or not, and yet here they are, being– ugh, starcrossed. That hack Shakespeare’s written comedies like this and I hate them just as much.”

Artoria rolls her eyes. “No kidding!” She complains. “I’ve talked to my other selves about it, the original knows him pretty well and from what she says he’s absolutely the type to go for it way too hard if he’s into someone. Not to mention Komadori! I’ve seen her hit on a ton of Servants, and heck, she even flirts with him, but have they gotten their act together? No!” She sighs, just as dramatically. “It’s ridiculous!”

They fall silent, and stare at the duo – Komadori was with one of her usual mealtime groups, that being that Irish Lancer that looked like Grimr, the red haired Archer in green, and a couple others, and the King of Heroes was off being an arrogant tool with that just-as-gold pharoah, and both were studiously not shooting looks at each other every so often – for a long moment. And then as one, they turn to look at each other.

“Operation: Soap Opera Busters?” Artoria suggests.

Oberon grins, showing off his much-too-sharp teeth for a handsome faerie king. “Oh yes, let’s.”

She grins back, showing off her matching set. “Meet me in my room later, I’m gonna investigate. You see what you can find out too.”

“Got it~” He hums. “Let’s get our dearest darlingest Master laid.”

(Maybe if she was getting railed regularly by Mister King Goldie, she’d stop having those Thoughts about him. Right?)

——

Well! He thinks, as he finds his way to Artoria’s room – ‘room’, given she crashes in Komadori’s room more often than not – he’s discovered some very stupid, but very pertinent information about the King of Idiots. Okay, to be fair, it’s not objectively stupid, but it’s making the man act like a complete buffoon.

A quick library raid behind that mousy, big-breasted librarian Servant’s back got him the most basic information on the golden idiot’s myth, and that sent him seeking out the Servant named Enkidu. Now, he’s aware there’s a goddess or two from the area around, but he’s seen Ishtar in the cafeteria and hell the fuck no, no thanks. He actually likes Enkidu, anyway. The thing’s a clay doll made from the Planet itself, and considering he’s, well, similarly born…there’s a bit of a strange kinship. Granted, one of them was made to corral a semi-divine tyrant and the other was made to devour an entire country, but hey. Gaia’s weird like that.

And Enkidu, it turned out, was just as frustrated with golden boy as the two unwilling spectators were! Good! The homunculus had happily divulged what Oberon had been looking for, and even offered their assistance in ‘forcing Gil to stop acting so ridiculous about Master’ if needed. Which was probably going to be needed if Oberon intended to have a Pointed Conversation with the man, given golden boy could probably break him in half with one hand. Stupid arbitrary Strength stats.

Anyway! Onward. He pops into Artoria’s room with nary a knock, and waves at her sitting on a crate – yes, her ‘room’ was a storage room she’d decided to commandeer as her little headquarters when she wasn’t napping in a pile with Komadori on her bed – with a winning smile. “Hello, hello, do I have some juicy gossip for you~! Courtesy everyone’s favorite green haired homunculus, who sends their regards and offer of assistance beating Golden Idiot upside the head if we need it.”

Artoria snickers. “Komadori told me they made friends by beating each other senseless in a market square,” she says. “I’m somehow not surprised it’s that kind of friendship. Anyway! I ended up talking to that Servant, um, Robin Hood, because I asked around and someone told me he was actually there in that Singularity thing that took place in Gilgamesh’s kingdom. Komadori gets evasive about some of the stuff that happened there, so I figured it’d be a good place to start. And boy, was it!”

“So I take it we both have the juicy gossip~?” Oberon says, amused. “Good to know, so spill it. What happened?”

Artoria leans in, eyes alight with that vicious sort of glee that he’d always found so damn funny, more so now that he’s met her other selves, who have none of that unhinged sort of feral wildness she does. “Gilgamesh – like, actual living person in the Singularity Gilgamesh, though ours has his memories apparently – literally jumped in front of a laser for her. Like, Robin was there, he saw it but didn’t move fast enough and then like, boom! Right through the heart! He literally died for her, Oberon, like, oh my god! Robin said he said some dumb shit about needing to anyway for Singularity reasons, but like, of all ways to go!”

“He died for her and she still doesn’t think he–” Oberon groans. “Is she stupid?! She’s stupid! Look at him, you’ve seen him, he’s got a head bigger than Cernunnos and acts like a spoiled five year old half the time, he wouldn’t do something like that unless he legitimately gave a damn! How the hell does she not see it!?”

Artoria shrugs helplessly. “Robin says his best guess is that Komadori’s got some trauma over losing people after that doctor guy and the samurai lady and, like, half the people she’s ever met along the way saving the world– and to be fair, we didn’t help– so she’s afraid to commit just in case,” she explains, and Oberon grimaces. Hell, she did have a point there. They, uh, really didn’t do much to not reinforce the ‘all my friends die’ trauma. Oops, sorry not sorry (on his end, at least, he’s sure Artoria does feel a bit bad). “Which does make sense. But, I mean, come on, he’s a Servant! She can always summon him back. Which, granted, doesn’t erase the dying part, but still. Isn’t he like one of the most mega-powerful Servants anyway? He’s gotta be hard to kill!”

“And anyway, she’s not one to balk at taking stupid, reckless risks,” Oberon adds with a roll of his eyes. “You and I both have seen how insane she is firsthand.” He studiously is not going to mention the fact that one of said risks was nearly jumping off the Border after him when he’d fallen. Nope, not relevant. “But…wait a minute,” he blinks and then slaps a hand to his face. “Oh my god, they have the same damn issue! This is ridiculous!”

Artoria blinks. “What?”

“Yes!” He complains. “I told you, I talked to Enkidu! They said that when they were both alive, they’d died because gods are shitheads, and Golden Idiot was mega ultra traumatized forever by it!” There was more to it than that, about the idiot’s terminal semidivine induced loneliness and avoidance of any real connections besides Enkidu themselves, but given Oberon understood that part a tiny bit too well he wasn’t going to think about it too hard. “They’re both sitting around pining relentlessly but being too scared to say anything because they don’t want to risk losing someone they love again and being hurt, my god this is actually worse than Shakespeare!”

Artoria buries her face in her hands, swearing inarticulately in a mix of very colorful Cornish, Breton, and Welsh – he’s so proud, who taught her half of those – for a moment before sighing. “We’ve got our work cut out for us, don’t we?” She moans.

“We do,” Oberon complains, draping dramatically across another crate. “Uuuuughhhhh, why did I sign up for this?”

“Because you’re as sick as I am of watching them dance around each other?” Artoria suggests. “Because you like Komadori and want to see her happy?”

“Shut up, do not accuse me of that second one, how dare you,” Oberon snaps. Rude! He absolutely, totally, definitely hates their master. For sure. Completely. Yep. No lies here. “But damn it all, you’re right, I am sick of it.”

They fall silent for a moment, staring at each other.

“…we have to talk to them now, don’t we,” Oberon says.

Artoria blinks slowly. “That…is the next step, yeah.”

More staring.

And thus comes the simultaneous frustrated screams of two people who are notoriously terrible at sincere interpersonal communication realizing they’ll have to actively do just that in order to resolve this issue.