Saber x Irisviel
Touch
Later on we'll cut through the park
And she can hold my hand 'cause she hates the dark
And we can laugh as we both pretend
That we're not in love and that we're just good friends
Nickelback
This had never happened to her before.
In all the wars and with all the people, she had never felt like this before. She was a King; she was a knight. She had never been close to anyone. She had never let herself. Not in her real life, and not as this an incantation, called forwards to fight in the service of her Master. She had never cared particularly for a Master, knowing full well that she was simply a tool to them, as they were to her. Not that she was close to this Master, either; Kiritsuga Emiya was, in her unvoiced opinion, an arrogant man whose ideologies were flawed and whose morals were questionable.
But, those questionable morals did result in one positive- his decision to let his wife appear to be Saber's Master meant that, though he put her directly in the line of danger, he also put her in Saber's care.
And Saber, though not faultless, was an able guardian.
She didn't think she would ever be able to forgive her Master for the way that he treated Irisviel. Though there was clearly some affection between them, and a child had been produced, it was obvious that his heart lay with another woman, and he didn't even have the decency to keep her far away from Irisviel.
She could not quite bring herself to hate him for it though, as it was clear that he had not married her under false pretences. Both of them had been well aware that the marriage had been arranged for mutual convenience, rather than for love.
It wasn't his fault if he hadn't been able to love her, but he didn't have to ignore her the way that he did.
As if the indifference hadn't been enough, he also showed a complete disregard for her safety and for her care, and seemed to view her only as a useful tool in the war that he was waging in pursuit of the Grail. If she hadn't been tied to him with the bonds not only of Master and Servant, but also those of chivalry and the code of honour that she lived by, she would have left his campaign and abandoned him, but as it was, she could not.
And, really, she would not want to.
Not when Irisviel would stay by his side.
She was well adept at hiding her deepest and most truthful emotions behind a cool, collected mask, a stoic expression and closed eyes. So, despite the anger and frustration that she felt for her Master, she neither voiced nor showed it, knowing that to do so would be inappropriate and pointless. She also knew that even if she tried to talk to Irisviel about it, she would simply shake her head, and tell Saber that she had got Kiritsuga all wrong. That was another thing; she didn't understand how her Master could ignore all of the kindness and beauty that his wife possessed, all of the grace, wisdom and softly spoken clarity.
Sometimes she felt like she could listen to Irisviel speak forever; just lie there next to her, and let the soft nuances of her voice soothe the troubled storm that had wreaked havoc within her soul for centuries.
It worried her, that Irisviel could calm her in this way; what if her guard slipped?
What if…
"Saber?"
Her thoughts interrupted, she turned to the woman next to her, who was wrapped up warmly against the cold in white fur. She herself needed nothing more than her black suit, thin leather gloves covering her hands- though she could barely feel the cold in the way that humans could, a cold, dry wind could still cut at her skin, and bleeding knuckles would severely hinder how she held her blade.
"Yes?"
"You seem worried about something."
She shook her head, and her fists tightened a little around the carrier bags she was holding. Her Master had left the two of them in the Japanese-style house after their original base was destroyed in the fight against Lancer's Master. He had sent them with the keys and a guide to the place, and that was it. The inside was echoing, cool, and covered in a thin level of dust, without any adequate provisions, heating or even any shelter more than the thin outer walls, which would not stand up to attack the way that the old mansion would have done. All in all, she thought it a poor substitute, but had said nothing on the matter. It would have to do.
She still found it hard to remember, sometimes, the basic needs of humans. It had only been when Irisviel's stomach had made an audible noise that she realised the woman had not eaten in over twenty four hours.
They had immediately left, on an expedition to find the nearest shop in the quiet neighbourhood. It seemed, however, that they should have taken the car: it was a longer walk than they had thought, and the dark shadows on Irisviel's face was becoming more and more pronounced as her skin drew paler. When they eventually had stumbled across a convenience store she had been so tired that Saber had picked the food out for them, and unsure of what she would be able to cook, she had stuck to ready made bentos and instant ramen pots, hoping that would be acceptable.
Saber held the carrier bags of food, but she did not begrudge the weight; she knew that Irisviel could barely move her fingers, let alone carry heavy bags. And besides, she was hardly weak.
"There is nothing wrong. I just wish to return quickly."
Her smile was sad when she looked at Saber.
"I'm sorry I am slowing you down. I know you didn't expect to be stuck with me when you were summoned."
"I never expect anything."
Saber had never learnt the art of consoling words, and Irisviel's face fell further, misinterpreting what the Servant meant. The silence of the dark streets seemed heavy as she tried to think of something to say; the orange glow of the street lights only served to make Irisviel's tired face even more sallow.
She shifted the bags into one hand, and slid the other around Irisviel's waist, pulling the other woman closer to her, making the rhythm of their footsteps fall in with each other.
Neither of them said a word, but a look of yearning crossed Irisviel's face as her ruined hands throbbed with uncomfortable lack of sensation in her mittens. How she longed to reach out and touch Saber's face, feel those pronounced cheekbones and the hard line of her mouth… but she could not.
Not as long as she was like this.
They reached their new base soon enough, and, under Irisviel's instruction, Saber managed to light the generator stored in the cellar of the place, giving them light and electricity, if not heating. After a quick tour around the building, she decided on the safest part of the place, and quickly installed Irisviel there. This wing of the house was much older, and built with much thicker and solid stone, with small windows and heavy doors. It would probably make no difference against the brute force of Rider or the power of Archer, but it served to make her feel better.
The light did not work, but there was a large, ugly lamp abandoned in the corner, and when she plugged it in, it seemed that the generator was working, and it cast a warm, yellow light across the room.
She quickly drew the heavy, dusty curtains across the windows and barred the two of them in. The room she had chosen must once have been an en-suite bedroom, but had been used by the previous occupants as some kind of study or library, judging from the abandoned desk and the empty bookcases. She had found an old, dry mattress in another room, and though it smelt a little fusty it seemed comfortable enough, and had slid it into an alcove where once a great fireplace might have stood. It was deep, and not particularly tall, as the chimney had been bricked in. A person lying on it would be able to sit up, but nothing more.
Irisviel was sat on an armchair, white fur still covering her pale limbs, legs tucked up underneath her and her arms positioned awkwardly, so that her hands fell limp and without touching anything.
Saber stood and watched her for a moment, wondering if she was asleep.
The heavy, slow breathing seemed to confirm it, and though she would sorely have liked to have let her sleep on, she knew her Master's wife pressingly needed something to eat if she was going to regain any strength.
She sifted through the case of scant possessions that they had brought with them, and found the strange, silver appliances that Irisviel had told her to pack. She put them next to the plug sockets and stared blankly at them, not knowing what to do.
Instead, she took the blankets they had brought and spread them all across the mattress, and then woke Irisviel.
"You require sustenance."
Under the careful instruction of Irisviel, she boiled bottled water in a thing called a kettle to make a reviving hot drink, which seemed to make her feel much better. Most of what they had bought was ready to eat cold, and Saber was content to let the other woman take her fill of that, for speed.
"Thank you, Saber."
She was most welcome, but Saber only nodded in reply, and pointed to the makeshift bed in the corner. Irisviel looked at it, and laughed.
"You have been busy."
Saber had to end up helping her with the hooks on her coat, and finding the things in her bag for her to sleep in, but Irisviel would not let her help in getting changed. Saber turned away, and tried to ignore the sounds of her laboured breathing as her near-dead hands struggled to change her clothes.
It took nearly half an hour for Irisviel to manage, during which time Saber became more and more frustrated that she could do nothing to help. When she finally turned around again it was to see Irisviel stood in the middle of the room, barefoot and shivering, in a silk sheath nightdress with fur night jacket wrapped around her.
"Get under the covers, Irisviel."
She nodded, but did not move. Saber began to pick up her clothes, something she knew that Irisviel would only be able to do with a great amount of difficulty. She slowly folded Irisviel's skirt and placed it on the armchair.
"It is too cold to stand there, Irisviel. Get some rest."
Her feet were turning blue, and her white skin seemed even paler, veins standing out through skin that seemed almost translucent.
"Will you lie with me, a little while?"
She nodded, not looking her in the eye. Irisviel took a step towards her, and tried to take hold of her by the wrist. Her grip was loose, barely able to hold on, and Saber did not fight it for fear of hurting her. She let herself be lead to the bed, and sat down as Irisviel slid underneath the piles of blankets. Slowly, she lowered herself down on top of the covers, pinning the other woman underneath them. They lay on their sides, facing each other.
Saber's voice was low, quieter than normal.
"If someone tried to attack us now, I would not be ready to defend you."
Irisviel's eyes were full of a smile.
"You would sense them coming along time before they actually arrived."
Saber said nothing, but reached a hand to touch the porcelain that was Irisviel's cheek. It was cool to the touch, smooth as water. The feel of it under her fingertips made her pulse quicken, made her throat dry.
She didn't want to let go.
Irisviel's eyes stared into hers, the strangest eyes she had ever seen. She watched the light catch the strands of pink and gold, and wondered how such a creature could exist.
And how, if only for these briefest of moments, it could be hers.
Hesitantly, still unused to the desire for affection that now afflicted her, she kissed Irisviel's forehead, still cradling her face in her hands. She was starting to feel warmer to the touch now, the ice in her soul thawing slightly as she rested and the pain from her overworked and under-rested body seeping away with the warmth and the comfort. Saber lay there until the other woman fell asleep, and then held her a little longer still, the caress of her skin a balm on her own pain.
After an hour or so, when she felt the flicker of a servant pass by somewhere not too far away, she left the bed, and stood guard over her sleeping mistress, knowing that though the Master of her servitude was elsewhere, that the fragile Master of her heart was sleeping nearby, and needed protection.
The night passed slowly for Saber, whilst Irisviel slept fitfully on the makeshift bed. Several times she woke from nightmares sweating, and only the soft touch of Saber's battle-hard hands against her face seemed to soothe her back to sleep.
Nearly asleep, incoherent and half in dream, she whispered up at Saber, face pressed against the calluses and scars of the hand of a knight.
"Be here in the morning?"
Feather light and unsure, Saber pressed a kiss against her dry lips, and promised that she would be.