Daughter of the Gods (Gilgamesh x Reader)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: His Highest Majesty

You stood by the other end of the table, a bit hesitant and unsure of what to do. On the other end of the room, by the large overlooking terrace, stood the great king. His eyes were overlooking the vastness of Uruk with a soft wave of nostalgia evident upon his expression. He stood tall and proud as he admired the fruit of his hard work. 

Glorious was the only term you could use to describe him. His hair is as white as the clouds. His beard that was kept down and short which is connected to his hair by sideburns was also white, old age apparent in his form. He wore simple yet at the same time, majestic blue robes beneath a layer of gold jewelry that sat upon his shoulders. A portion of his arm from his wrists to around an inch before his elbow was also clad in gold; the same goes for his legs, from his ankle to his knees. 

Despite more than a thousand years of his lifetime, he still looked radiant and strong. Although his back was already hunched forward, his muscles were still hulk. You doubt they still have enough strength in them, though. His mere presence was enough to silence the earlier turbulent thoughts in your head.

Siduri cleared her throat. "Your highest majesty," she said, bowing forward. "The princess is of your presence." That's all it took for the man to turn his head and look at you. Your (e/c) eyes met with his green ones, a shade you imagine to be even more radiant than the grassy plains Ajamu told you of. 

He looked at your figure wrapped in white fabric with designs native to Uruk. For a moment, he held his breath. You looked as beautiful as the Goddess of Oneiromancy, Ninsun—the love of his life. That's why if he were to find out that you have affiliations with the Gods, he wouldn't be surprised. 

"You must be (y/n)," he spoke, his voice deep and a little scratchy. "Please, have a sit." He motioned his hand towards the chair beside you—the one you've always sat on as he walked forward to claim the chair at his end of the table. You waited until he has sat first before you did. Siduri gave a final bow before she went to the kitchen to help with the meals.

"I take it you have heard of me?" He asked. "Yes," was the only response you were able to formulate. Your answer was welcomed by a light chuckle. "Now where is that feisty princess everyone was talking about?"

Your brows scrunched together in disbelief. "I'm sorry?" You asked, trying not to sound rude. He replied with a hearty laugh. Had it been Gilgamesh who had done so, you would've been pissed; but you knew, King Lugalbanda's laughter meant no harm nor offense. You find it hard to read him but something in you tells you he's not a bad person nor is he synonymous with his son.

"Tell me, (y/n)," he said. "Do you have direct connections with the gods?" His question took you by surprise and by a simple inquiry, your mind scrambled to get some answers. "I-I... uhh..." you stuttered for a moment before you gave a firm answer, "Yes."

"I knew it!" He replied with a tone child-like. "Your hair says so." For a while, your eyes widened. Does he know about the myth of the Divine Children? "What do you know about Al-Simr?" You asked him straight to the point.

"Al-Simr..." he hummed as he leaned back on his chair. "Honestly, I've never heard of the said place.

"Then how did you know of my hair?"

King Lugalbanda gave a playful laugh before answering. "I was only bluffing but it turns out that I'm right," he said. "You see, in Uruk, all Mesopotamian deities are blonde." By the mention of blonde, your mind darted to Gilgamesh. You glanced back at the king with a questioning look, keeping the question arising within you to yourself.

Reading your thoughts, King Lugalbanda gave an answer. "My son is a demigod," he said. "Two-thirds god and one-third human to be precise." Your jaw dropped internally by the fact that you've been exhibiting such attitude to a half-god. "Well, he sucks as a god," you unknowingly spoke your thoughts out loud.

A beam of laughter erupted from the king. "My, no wonder he finds you amusing," he said in between waves of laughter. "You mean to say?" You asked but you doubt your words reached him through his fits. "As I was saying," he said, calming himself down.

"His mother is the Goddess Ninsun," at the mention of the Mesopotamian deity, you saw his eyes stare dreamily into space. "You remind me of her, actually. For that reason, I would even believe you if you told me you are a goddess." For a split second, you felt your face heat up. "You humble me," you said. "But I am not a goddess." 

"Yet," he replied, seeming to correct you. "Huh?" You asked in response. You didn't mean to sound rude or anything but this man has a very lively spirit so opposite of his son. Yet he carried a warm aura with him and you find it not impossible to talk to him with ease.

"I mean," he said. "Maybe you're not a goddess now but you will be."

"Is that even possible?"

"Perhaps."

Before you could further protest, he cut you off with another question. "So, what do you think of my son?" His question made you roll your eyes and lean back on your chair. "I dislike him," you answered. "How about you? What do you think of your son?"

His lips curved up into a grin. "I see a promising future ahead of him now that you're here." You scoffed, "That doesn't even make sense." You crossed your arms in front of your chest as you looked away. 

The king chuckled before he stood and made his way towards you. "Come, child," he said as he walked past you. "There is something I must show you." You glanced behind you to see him heading towards the kitchen. Without further ado, you stood and followed him.

As he went inside the chamber, the servants bowed to him before going back to their work. You could feel the dreaminess of the atmosphere follow him wherever he goes. The lack of tension and worry made you feel light. 

You followed him towards a large pot of boiling water. "Here we are," he said. Confused, you stared at the water before looking back up at him. "Go ahead," he motioned for you to get closer to the pot. You raised a brow at him and asked, "Do you want me to burn myself alive in this pot as compensation for the way I treated your son?"

He became another laughing fit. The sound of his laughs echoes louder in this closed chamber. "Oh, dear gods," he said. "You are one funny princess." You were unsure of whether you should take the said statement as a compliment or an insult. "Of course, not! My son serves him right for you to treat him that way—I wouldn't deny that."

He cleared his throat in order to pull himself back together. "Anyway, I want you to take a look at the water as if you're looking at your reflection," he said. Although hesitant, you did as told. You carefully moved your head forward to take a peek at your reflection but you saw nothing but bubbles. You tried looking harder but the steam was warming your face too much for your own good. You pulled back and wiped the sweat that has formed on your face.

"So?" He asked you. "There was nothing there," you answered. He gave a nod and a hum of satisfaction before heading out of the kitchen. "What was that for?"  You asked yourself as you ran after him. The two of you went back into the dining hall. You were about to sit back on your chair when you noticed that the king is headed elsewhere. Sensing that he is taking you somewhere, you gave a soft groan before getting back on your feet and following him. 

He led you into the Royal Hall where he walked up the stairs that lead to the throne and passed it into the garden at the heart of the ziggurat. Behind the throne seemed like a different world where plants of various kinds bloomed. The air seemed fresher and you felt nothing but tranquility. 

As you followed him deeper into the garden, you saw him stop in front of a small pond. He turned to you and motioned for you to get closer. You did as told, letting your feet move forward. When you were standing beside him, he took a step sideward. "Now," he said, turning to face you. "I want you to look into the pond."

You took another step forward and looked into the water. "There it is," you said. "My reflection." For a short while, the image of your sister popped into your mind. A lot have said you looked alike. If only your hair was of the same color as her's you'd probably be mistaken to be twins.

You pulled yourself back and looked up at the king. "You cannot see your reflection in the boiling water," he said. "Similarly, you cannot see the truth in a state of anger, dislike, or hate. When the water's calm, clarity comes."