Maybe he would've loved a man like this, once. Maybe, without Enkidu to occupy every errant thought, he would've grown to care for him in the same way. Maybe they would be less subjects, more equals, but as it stands, as they both sit side-by-side with one another, it could only ever be a subject addressing his king.

But Gilgamesh still smiles for it. He won't refuse him, won't reject him. He won't ever really understand, and the same could be said for Gilgamesh himself. What matters are those words bordering on sacred: you are not alone. They are together in this much, in their own separate battles to be waged with Saber.

"I fear there may be no cure for it." Gilgamesh sighs this even as he melts against Diarmuid, takes up that hand upon his chest and brings it to his lips. "I fear I may sink yet further into despair, against my own will, my own nature. But if that day comes, the day when this world falls to me, I will be sure to catch you. I will set you on your feet again and send you back to your proper place."

It is the right and proper thing to do, from one knight to another. Gilgamesh would defeat Saber; Diarmuid would please his lord. In that moment, Gilgamesh decides he would gladly make a world where this was so.