Chapter Text
1. Reminiscence
They were sitting on the plain grass, smiling and laughing with each other. She had her head in his lap, and was listening to his stories, he was weaving through her hair, braiding it slowly.
"… and then Tohsaka exploded into an angry fit, criticizing every mage in the room for their lackluster work, saying that she'd gladly follow the 'heretic idiot' if it meant standing up to the Cardinal."
Artoria chuckled. It truly was like Rin to do so.
"It is good to hear that all of them are still well."
"Mhm, that it is."
Shirou looked into the distance, his hand stilling. Artoria looked up from her position, a questioning glint in her eyes.
"…I'm going to miss them, huh?"
"Yes, you will. As do I, believe me."
He looked down at her. He never doubted that for a second.
"I missed you."
And as Shirou started with his handiwork again, and as Artoria closed her eyes and started humming silently, their worries in the past, she answered his words with a soft "I did too."
2. Home
Their home was a brittle castle which had seen better days.
Its roof was missing on most parts, and almost all of the upper floors had been leveled to the ground due to weather and climate.
Between the stones, in crevices and other small openings, plants grew as if to take over what was once nature. There was no hard ground either, everything being overgrown by grass and other greenery.
There even was a small pond running through a rather nasty looking crack.
It was no Emiya residence, and it was no Camelot castle, but it was perfect nonetheless.
It was home.
Because she could spend the rest of eternity with the person she loved most.
3. Memories
He'd often wake up in the middle of the night, screaming and shaking with worries past.
Of fights and battles impossible to fight, impossible to win; yet that he did, against all odds.
Of Dead Apostles, the Grail War, Mediterranean Gates and other feats, which by all right should be completely impossible to accomplish for a mere human; yet which he won nonetheless, always pursuing his dream.
She'd wake up as well, and calm him, hold him, both waiting till the nightmares subsided.
Murmuring sweet nothings till his eyes grew heavy, till his tense muscles relaxed.
And then they'd fall back to sleep, her holding him and him holding her.
4. Smile
He was incredibly happy, seeing her smile every day. Be it because of something stupid he'd done, like using a Noble Phantasm as an impromptu torch, or because she was remembering something.
Nonetheless he'd take her smiles every day as small victories, and her laughter a trophy.
Because when Shirou Emiya first summoned Artoria Pendragon, she did not smile or laugh. Because as a King, she did not show much emotion.
So he'd do something increasingly stupid or foolhardily, and wait for that small curve of her lips, that small twitch that told him she knew what he was doing, but played along.
Because he loved her smile.
5. Neighbours
After the impossible spell was broken, life returned to Avalon-
Is what Artoria would've loved to say, but it more like bulldozed into their home a good week after Shirou came.
Its not like she was mad, but some more privacy would've been nice. Or forewarning.
Especially for Shirou, who was swarmed by the female body of the fair folk inhabiting Avalon.
Repeatedly.
Though, she mused, it was nice seeing some familiar faces once in a while, as the fairies left the two of them mostly alone.
The only person-fairy-whatever that she had yet to see was both the Lady of the Lake and Merlin, who was still mysteriously absent.
Which worried her more than the nymphs currently fawning over Shirou.
So it didn't come as such a great surprise, when she awoke one morning, with a note next to her reading 'So that it gets more interesting.' and her looking at a repeat of her wedding night with the Queen.
There was only one thing left to do: "MERLIN!"
6. Parenthood
He was braiding her hair, them sitting on a green field, when she'd asked the question.
"Would I have been a good parent, Shirou?"
The question was asked with a quivering voice, fear clearly noticeable.
He sighed. She had asked him the same question once, but he was too stunned to answer her then. It was sad, knowing how much she doubted herself, so he continued to rhythmically braid her hair to soothe her, and answered honestly.
"Of course you'd make a good parent. A little strict maybe-" here he had to chuckle, "- but good nonetheless."
He heard, or rather felt, her exhale in a shudder, followed by a silent "Thank you."
He finished the braid, tying it off, and wound his arms around her from behind, hugging her.
"Always."
7. Lake
They were strolling along the dense undergrowth, searching for berries and herbs for that days dinner.
That is, until they found a little stream. Deciding to follow it, they abandoned their earlier task, now engrossed in their impromptu adventure.
Trekking after the little stream across the forest, they started idle chatter.
It was quite meaningless, true, but it served its purpose: within minutes they reached a little clearing where the stream ended in a lake.
"Quite a beautiful sight, is it not?"
He smiled. "Beautiful."
She smiled back, eyes glowing with warmth.
They walked to the edge, peering over.
"You know," he started, still gazing at the lake, "this would make a great picnic spot."
"Oh?" she tilted her head to the side, thinking. "With a red and white checkered cloth, a basket and the like?"
"Yeah," the voice was soft. "and with a group of friends goofing off to the side."
Artoria looked sympathetically at Shirou. "It truly would be rather nice."
8. Blessings
"Shirou!"
They were in the lake.
Or rather, they'd fallen into it somehow. He didn't recall how precisely they fell, only that he was at the edge of the water one second, and in the lake the next, having dragged her with him.
"Yes?" His smile held laughter and mischief, and Artoria suddenly felt more cold wetness on her face, as he splashed her.
"Why you?!" She growled back in mock-anger, retaliating.
This went on for a while, both having fun in the water like little children until the sun was over its zenith, leaving the lake in a cool shade. The cold finally catching up to them.
Climbing out of it, they laid out their clothes on a still-warm stone, being clad in naught but traced cloaks.
"Well," he started, "are we going to wait till they dry?"
She smiled at him, coyly.
"I wonder…"
And as she put her hand on his bare chest, her nails skimming over skin, even though her face was red, he couldn't comply more.
9. Fondness
"I do wonder, what my brother would have thought of you, Shirou."
The statement came with little to no warning one evening, both sitting on a boulder overlooking the grassy plain, their 'home' at their back.
He glanced at her, muttering a questioning "Hmm?" and sipping at his tea quietly.
She didn't turn to him, her gaze unfocused as she was delving in the past.
"Is it not customary to introduce ones partner to the family?"
"Well yes, of course…" He doubted though, that his father would've been open to the idea. Later maybe, at first? No.
"Then I can say with certainty that he probably would've tried to kill you on the spot."
She shot him a glance, which he reciprocated.
"Gee, thanks."
There was a short silence after his sarcastic retort, until she looked up at the sky, muttering, "My father would have liked you, probably."
10. Proposal
He'd forgotten to bring a ring with him, the first time.
It was to be expected, though. He didn't know when he'd die, so he hadn't thought about the ring.
But he had a Reality Marble, and his Tracing.
So Shirou would oftentimes trace a blacksmith's tools, and the steel of a particularly beautiful sword or Noble Phantasm, and form a ring.
But never was he content with the rings he made, always shattering hours-long procedures.
They had to be perfect, after all.
Shed catch him, sometimes, sitting by a stream, thinking. But she never commented, not wanting to startle him when he looked so deep in thoughts.
Until, one day, he took her to a small clearing, with a picnic basket and the red and white checkered cloth, fell to one knee and proposed.
She smiled the brightest that day, and the ring would never leave her finger again.