No spoilers this time. Just a basic little oneshot. A little more on the mature side but heck, you probably watched Apocrypha. This is nothing...
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It was every Friday night for the past five months that she had shown up there. It was always the same beer that she ordered, and she never really talked to anyone other than him. (Y/n) found it odd, but he never said anything about it. He enjoyed Mordred's company whenever she paid his bar a visit.
This Friday was no different, but perhaps something different could happen. Maybe (y/n) would finally be able to ask Mordred why she came to visit him every Friday. He couldn't be anything more than her friend thanks to the rules. Bartenders were not to get involved with customers. Nothing more than friendly customer service was allowed, but Mordred sure was interesting to say the least.
It wasn't a busy night. Most of the usual customers had come in early. Some of the regulars didn't even show up. At the moment, no one was in the bar. That only made things easier on (y/n). He merely worked there because he was good at his job and needed the money. No other reason at all. Seeing Mordred had only recently become a plus.
"The usual!" she called as she walked in. He had been expecting her arrival, but her sudden appearance slightly startled him. This time, a red leather jacket and matching fingerless gloves adorned her figure. Mordred always managed to catch his attention whenever she arrived.
"Don't you ever feel like trying something new? I've been told I make the best margaritas around." (Y/n) met her gaze briefly before starting on her order.
"Are you trying to say that I have bad taste in alcohol?" she questioned.
"No, that isn't what I meant," (y/n) hurriedly denied. He set her drink in front of her seeing the smirk she held as she stared at him. "What?"
"Someone had a good day. Or are you just happy to see me? I don't come here for you. You're just always here. You know that right?" Mordred spoke before starting on her beer. (Y/n) merely gave a nervous laugh in response. In all honesty, he didn't know why Mordred came to the bar. Every customer had their reasons, but (y/n) couldn't help but feel that Mordred's reason was fixated on him.
"Round two! That's a new record, isn't it?" Mordred exclaimed as she slammed her empty glass onto the counter. (Y/n) was never able to understand how Mordred was able to remain sober for so long when she drank like that.
"I wouldn't know if that's a new record or not. I dont usually keep up with that kind of stuff." An unfamiliar customer entered the bar before anything more could be said. He wore some rather strange attire, but (y/n) wasn't the type to judge. He'd seen some pretty odd things during his time as a bartender. "Welcome. Could I offer you any specials tonight, or did you have something in mind?" he spoke to the newcomer.
"Saber, right? You're that left behind Saber. I didn't really believe it when I was told that you were a regular here. Guess I should have checked this place out sooner." The strange guest had entirely ignored (y/n), and it seemed like he was talking nonsense.
"(Y/n), the beer," Mordred spoke. Her tone had changed. She no longer held her casual friendliness. (Y/n) had worked at the bar long enough to know when something was about to happen.
"Right, here you go." (Y/n) watched the stranger who remained where he stood.
"Don't ignore me. I don't get why you decided to get yourself involved with another grail war when you've already won yours, but you've managed to bother both me and my master. That I cannot forgive," the stranger growled. Mordred finished her second beer before standing.
"I think I'll try that margarita just this once. Have one waiting for me after I handle this," she spoke flashing (y/n) a grin afterwards. "And stay behind the counter no matter what," she added in warning before turning to the stranger. "You've got some guts coming here and getting on my nerves. War, you say? Don't you know the rules? Outsiders aren't supposed to know about it. Maybe you didn't notice, but my bartender here isn't a mage."
(Y/n) did his best to act like he wasn't listening, but he felt like his life was suddenly in danger. Following Mordred's request, he prepared a margarita, but he was on high alert for a possible fist fight. He was worried about letting a guy fight Mordred, but didn't doubt that she would win. Afterall, she had gotten into a fight on her first night at the bar, and it was surely one he would remember.
"I'll deal with him once we've finished our fight. Out of respect, I won't kill him in front of you, but you know the rules," the stranger spoke. (Y/n) felt his blood run cold as he sat the margarita on the counter. This person intended to kill him? But why? And what were he and Mordred even talking about? There was no war going on anywhere.
"You aren't killing anyone. I've got nothing to do with your war. I don't want any part of it," Mordred snapped.
"You should have thought about that before you stopped Caster. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but the simple fact is that you intervened. Now you're a threat to the remaining masters in this war. I am merely here to follow my own master's orders," the stranger explained. Confused was not the word (y/n) even wanted to use to describe how he felt. Things didn't get any better when the man suddenly pulled a sword from thin air.
"So you're a Saber too, huh," Mordred noted as she also materialized a sword out of nothing. "Make sure you stay where you are (y/n). Can't have you losing your life because of this bastard." He found her words ironic. Already he had thought of making a run for it, but Mordred had now warned him twice. Should he listen to Mordred who had defied all logic by pulling a sword out of thin air, or should he keep his sanity and leave before he passed the point of no return? He didn't have to make the choice. A sudden tremor stopped the fight before it even started.
"It seems you're in luck today. Berserker has caused an issue and my master has asked for my assistance. Next time, I won't let you go so easily," the stranger spoke.
"Hey, don't you pick a fight and just run away!" Mordred charged at the him, but he vanished before she could do anything. "Damn...he got away," she muttered. The sword in her hand vanished just as it had initially appeared. With a sigh, Mordred returned to the counter and emptied the margarita glass while (y/n) stood there in disbelief.
"Mordred...what just happened?" he managed to say. He couldn't find anything else to say that wouldn't give away how badly his nerves had been scattered by the short events. Mordred sat the empty glass down and shrugged.
"That wasn't really anything. The bastard ran off before I could finish the fight. But hey, margaritas aren't too bad. You really are good at making them." She spoke as if a disappearing man was a normal occurance. "Come on, we gotta get out of here before another one shows up."
"What? There are more of them? Wait, wait, I'm not supposed to leave the bar unattended, and it's not closing time yet. You're going to get me fired." He had to think logically here. Whatever just happened had nothing to do with him. He'd just pretend he didn't see or hear anything like he normally did when incidents happened at the bar during his shift.
"Do you want to die?" Mordred bluntly asked him.
"No, or course not, but-" He was cut off by Mordred who had pulled him forward by the collar of his shirt. She stared him right in the eyes almost as if she wanted to glare at him but couldn't decide if she wanted to or not.
"You said no, so let's go. This place probably won't even be standing minutes from now." She seemed slightly upset that he didn't want to leave.
"Okay. I'm going," he agreed. Sure he'd probably get fired, but it was certainly better than being dead or on Mordred's bad side. If she could summon a sword out of nowhere, (y/n) didn't even want to know what she might do if he genuinely upset her.
"Good," Mordred spoke before releasing him. Even though she'd said the building wouldn't be left standing, (y/n) made sure that everything was in order and locked the bar before heading out. Much to his relief, Mordred allowed this without a word to rush him along.
Just as he put away the key, another tremor shook the ground beneath him. There wasn't a way to tell which way it came from. "I don't even want to know. I really don't want to know," he thought as he did his best to ignore the sounds of what he could only describe as a possible street riot. That was what he wanted to believe, but after what he'd seen that night, he highly doubted it.
"Where do you think you're going?" Mordred asked as she caught the back of his shirt collar. He had begun to walk away in hopes of getting home before the streets got to dangerous.
"What do you mean? I'm going home. It's not far from here. Whatever you got yourself into doesn't seem like something I want to get involved in. I'd rather head home and keep out of your business." The smirk on Mordred's face told him that it was already too late.
"If you go home, you'll get killed. The rules are pretty strick when it comes to outsiders knowing about the war. They'll make sure to silence you...but not on my watch. We can't have my beer dealer die, right?" Mordred said.
"Mordred, I'm not your beer dealer. Hey! Wait, what are you doing?! Put me down!"
"Shut up already. I'm saving you. You aren't someone I want to see get killed. I don't come to this bar every week for nothin," she muttered as she walked away with (y/n) over her shoulder. He wasn't exactly surprised by her strength, but he hadn't expected her to pick him up. Mordred pulled a set of keys from her jacket pocket before sitting (y/n) down next to her ride.
"There's a lot you don't know just yet, so why don't we get somewhere safer. I'll tell you everything to know about holy grail wars." Mordred started the engine of the red streaked, obsidian black motorcycle.
"This is crazy. I don't even want and explaination. Just let me live..." (y/n) muttered to himself. He took his seat behind Mordred and hoped they wouldn't crash along the way to wherever they'd be going. "Are you in a gang or something? That guy said you were a Saber. What does that even mean?" (Y/n) went silent as the engine revved up. Mordred didn't even warn him, but quick thinking let him know to hold on or else he'd fall. He quite literally held on to Mordred's waist for dear life.
"You really have no idea. I'm not named Mordred for just any reason, you know. I'm the real deal. But I bet you don't believe me. You're not a mage. Your mind probably can't comprehend this nonsense. I really don't get it myself, but the information is there," Mordred spoke over the wind. It wasn't like (y/n) could really hear her anyway. The most he heard was the mentioning of her identity, and the rest of her words were lost in the sound of the motorcycle's engine.
Mordred didn't know the definition of speed limit. Their surroundings were passed as unrecognizable blurs thanks to Mordred's disregard of the law. Once he got past the initial scare, the bike ride seemed less dangerous than it really was. For a moment, (y/n) forgot about the events that took place at the bar. Mordred was letting him ride on her motorcycle. That was something (y/n) never expected to happen.
There was no way for him to know what mess he had gotten dragged into. All (y/n) knew at that moment was that the girl who visited him every Friday night was a knight herself, and he'd never have another normal Friday ever again. And the worst part about it all was that he didn't even get to ask his initial question. Just why did Mordred visit him every Friday night?
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First oneshot ever done in a oneshot book. More is on the way, so hopefully I didn't do too badly.