[FGO] Each other's only one

This is my memory.

With the help of his friend (the red-haired knight), he finally remembered his invaluable memories.

What no other Morgan le Fay (the island's incarnation), Vivian (the fairy), or Morgan (the human) could take away—my life, my Arthur, my treasure, which is uniquely mine—

Artorius is my only one, but am I Artorius's only one?

It turns out that his posture as the Storm King was his answer.

"—Because there was someone who once said they hoped I could live as 'Artoria Pendragon,' so I chose to exist as 'me.'"

Not King Arthur who was devoted to his people, nor the mysterious King of Britain who brought about his downfall, but someone who lived as Artorius Pendragon for a specific person.

"I will remember you, Princess Morgan of Britain. As Artoria Pendragon, the Eternal Lord, the Lord of Storms, the Guardian of the Dead, the Storm that tears everything apart, I will imprint your name and image upon my soul."

It is also a heartfelt confession from Artorius Pendragon.

"I haven't yet taken you to every corner of Britain. Wherever you wish to go, whatever you wish to escape, or whatever you wish to save—I will accompany you on your journey."

It's like ending a deeply memorable journey, but not yet reaching the destination, while someone is waiting to be reunited along the way.

I don't want to forget, and I won't forget.

The warmth of the embrace illuminated by the campfire, and the other person's burning breath.

-

Awakening from a long dream, the sense of reality hadn't had time to catch up with the returning consciousness, leaving the surrounding scenery shrouded in mist.

The golden morning light outside the bed curtains, carrying a warm glow, fell on my shoulder, while simultaneously draping a hazy veil over the person just inches away.

The golden-brown hair, tinged with a faint halo, lay smoothly against the other's high, straight nose, softening the sharp, chiseled contours of his face. Even when he was peacefully asleep with his eyes closed, his deep, handsome features still exuded a masculine air.

Her silver hair, flowing like a galaxy, spread across the soft pillow and under her slightly open bodice. The long strands brushed against her skin, causing a faint itch. Images of them sharing a bed floated into Morgan's mind, and all his senses returned, constantly sensing her body temperature, including his own careful breathing, as if afraid of disturbing her.

...As if trying to make up for all the time lost, the British princess stared silently at the familiar yet unfamiliar face before her.

—It is Artorius Pendragon.

She had known and accompanied him for a time, but after several separations, they parted ways completely. She never forgot her beloved younger brother until her last moment.

Morgan couldn't help but reach out to his eyebrows and eyes, wanting to confirm his authenticity through touch.

Just as her fingertips brushed against the golden-haired king's eyelashes, the slowly raised eyelashes revealed a pair of golden lights encased in emerald jade.

In an instant, all was silent.

When Morgan came to her senses, the divine eyes, like the surface of a frozen lake, were reflected in her beautiful face, and then melted into a gentle spring stream by the warm current that rippled across the ice.

Artorius took her caressing fingertips in his hand, and under Morgan's gaze, brought them to his lips. He opened his lips and bit down on the rose-pink fingertips, his pearly white teeth gently biting the slightly curved knuckles with warm breath, and finally placed a kiss on the back of her hand.

Before Morgan could react, he pulled the British princess into his arms.

The red dragon of Britain let out a long sigh, as if it had finally found the missing half of its soul.

A deep voice came from above Morgan's head: "I'm sorry, it's because I fell in love with you that you've been dragged into this embarrassing situation. But I won't give up on this feeling. I love you, and no matter how the stars change or how time passes, this love will never change."

He too embarked on a long journey, with the gods repeatedly revisiting increasingly distant memories. Those magnificent scenes did not become blurred by the passage of time; instead, they grew deeper with the accumulation of longing, like grains of sand forming a tower.

Therefore, before his "self" disappeared, Artoria turned his back on the lofty throne and altar, choosing to become the self that shattered everything and left only this memory.

This is a choice that will neither be forgiven nor blessed.

"Even if you resent me, it's perfectly reasonable and it's your right."

The king who once stripped himself of all selfish desires and protected the country under the glorious crown now willingly accepts the curse of being deeply rooted in the black mud.

Like a flower branch that is entangled by thorns, it resolutely endures the numerous wounds inflicted by the sharp thorns.

Looking at Altoris's vulnerability and self-deprecation, and the heavy emotions he expressed, the feelings that welled up in Morgan's heart were not the anger or trembling that the other party had expected.

"You're such an idiot! You foolish red dragon!! How could I possibly let you bear everything alone?"

Under Altoris's stunned gaze, Morgan buried herself in his chest. Through their skin pressed together, she could hear his heartbeat, heavy and rapid, falling in sync with her chest. The intense heat made her unconsciously curl her fingertips.

The subtle rustling of the clothes, like the tip of a feather, tickled the British princess's heart, making her think of scene after scene of her time with the blond knight.

Morgan felt as if an invisible hand was gripping his heart, but the restless urges churning within him did not cease; instead, they brought back more bright and warm memories.

"Whether it was the time spent in the outskirts of Tintage or the events in the Camelot Gardens, the most profound memories are of the words you spoke to me, which have sustained me all the way here."

Like the whisper of Nitocris, the queen of a kingdom surrounded by vast, scorching yellow sands yet still thriving—

"Because they've been by my side since childhood, the person I know best and am closest to, I can completely entrust them with my trust and love."

Morgan's whispered words made her heart pound even faster, the rhythms of their hearts resonating together. The heavy, pounding pulse made it hard to breathe, let alone utter the words from the depths of her heart. So the British princess said with difficulty and stuttering, "...Al, you, you chose me, so I choose you too."

Her dry tone couldn't hide her nervous and chaotic thoughts, but once she got started, the rest of the words flowed smoothly from her lips.

She never imagined that she would be "the one" chosen.

Vivian is a fairy, the child of the planet; Morgan le Fay is a witch, the mistress of the island; Morgan is a princess, King Arthur's elder sister.

Even the queen of the fairy kingdom is a noblewoman formed by combining the former two.

Only Morgan le Fay, as King Arthur's sister, is mentioned in pan-human history, and only briefly as a villain. What plot developments did the legendary Morgan le Fay, as the "King's sister," advance? What great achievements did she leave behind?

Morgan was never recorded in pan-human history, so she was destined to disappear.

But she still exists at this moment, and she exists right here.

She was only recorded because King Arthur chose Morgan.

For a moment, Morgan couldn't describe the emotions that filled his heart.

Is it joy? It's being happy to be placed in an important position by someone, to remember it for a lifetime even if you forget past honors, to the point that it's almost etched into your soul.

Is it sadness? Sadness for the other person walking alone, the loneliness and pain they may be experiencing, and the sorrow of not being able to be by their side.

Or is it regret? For wanting to gain a spiritual foundation, one makes the other person suffer self-blame, thereby distorting the other person's noble beliefs.

If she were a pure and selfless woman, she would probably want to commit suicide to show her nobility. But as a human being, she has the selfish desires of an ordinary person and longs for the happiness that an "ordinary girl" hopes for.

Morgan is a witch, so she is selfish and will stop at nothing to achieve her goals.

Morgan was a princess, so she valued a magnificent life more than romance.

She is both perfect and imperfect; she will never become a saint, nor will she become a villain.

therefore……

She felt Altoris's burning emotions with certainty.

She truly understood Altoris's resolute determination.

She clearly saw Altoris's guilty remorse.

Morgan embarked on his journey because he wanted to save Britain.

To achieve this, she first had to save King Arthur, but she was saved by King Arthur instead.

"Honestly... I'm the one who's protecting and guiding you, yet you're the one who loves and cherishes me. Just how far do you intend to toy with my feelings before you're satisfied?"

As the island witch's confidante and the king who held her in his arms, Artorius remained silent. Morgan, with her forehead pressed against his chest, could not see the expression on Artorius's face.

The British princess simply parted her lips gently, and spoke in a voice filled with boundless tenderness:

"I have to admit, the flames of love have also swept through my heart, Al."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the silent Storm King made a sound.

As Morgan awkwardly watched, long, slender fingers with distinct knuckles lifted her chin, and then she was suddenly drawn into a pair of emerald green and golden eyes. The Island Witch tried to speak several times, but no sound came out.

The warm sunlight falling on them reflected the dust in the air, the twinkling golden light of the stars adorned their intertwined hair, and the gradually disappearing closeness between them.

The warmth of the body against my skin makes me instinctively hold my breath. The tentative, warm breath gently brushes against my nose, and then the soft touch presses against my lips, like a spring breeze caressing a flower-covered hill, creating shallow ripples on a mirror-like lake in the forest.

The rippling water shimmers like a shooting star streaking across a colorful starry sky, carrying the hope of devout prayers across millennia to reach the other side of a miraculous reunion.

I want to be someone important to you.

A thousand years ago, they made a promise to be each other's only one;

A thousand years later, when they reunited, they fulfilled this vow.

—Even as their lips and tongues intertwined, Morgan did not push the other away.