The Hill of Swords

by gabriel blessing

When Louise Valliere performed her summons for her familiar, she certainly didn't expect for it to be a human! Strangely enough, the boy she summoned, Shirou Emiya, didn't expect to get summoned so soon. He hadn't even died yet!

14. Promised Blades: The Fourteenth night

The Hill of Swords: The Fourteenth night

Author's note: And thus closes the second arc of The Hill of Swords. I'll probably be going back tomorrow to make a few minor edits to the previous chapters, so if you see this story back at the top of the updated list but it still only has 14 chapters, that's why.

A few minor notes. First off, I've found my review list flooded with questions and concerns regarding Rho Aias. My first response to this, is pride. I'm glad that I've managed to get so many people so invested in my story that they're willing to take the time to comment on the parts that catch their eyes. I thought I'd write a bit of an explanation behind my intentions of that scene. I was trying to point out the technical skill of Karin in it. The part where I was talking about 'multiple discrete counter rotations' was my justification of the shield falling so fast. I was trying to imply that Karin had set a lance of wind screwing like a drill, than wrapped that lance with another rotational air element going in the other direction, and done that four times total. The implied result was that her attack literally chewed its way through the shield, instead of just trying to pierce it like a normal attack would. I admit, that part in the game where Lancer and Archer were having their face off I was scrolling through pretty fast, eager to see what happened so I might have missed some of the details. What do you guys think? Would it have been enough?

Beyond that, now for the notes on this chapter. I decided to start it right towards the end of the campaign, and leave the actual events between Louise and Shirou joining to be explained briefly through narration. That has more to do with the fact that, well, I kind of think it would be boring to have to write what would amount to two months worth of bickering with the brass and inane army life. I decided to just jump forward to the important part instead. Does anyone think that diminishes the effect, or are they just happy I got to where the good stuff was?

Also, I hope this chapter helps explain some of the other major concerns most people have. Reviewers seemed to be split into two camps. Those who think Shirou is too powerful, and those who think Shirou isn't powerful enough.

For the too powerful camp, I've always saw Shirou more as being the ultimate handy man rather than being some kind of towering titan of awesomeness. It's not that he's super powerful, its just that he almost always has precisely the right tool to make the job easy. I tried to point out earlier in the work that Shirou has always known what his major weakness was: sheer numbers, or an enemy that is just skilled enough to overcome whichever advantageous weapon he was using.

For those who are wondering why he seems so weak and isn't spamming some of the truly astounding weapons he has, well, it's because he's just not strong enough to use them yet. Remember how Saber was described as having an incredibly high mana capacity in the game? Well, one use of Excalibur against Rider, and she was on her last leg. Simply put, some of the weapons just are out of his reach right now. He might be able to make them, and even use them once, but he's going to be redlining himself in his circuits if he does so, and he's just to cautious to let himself be that weak in front of a foe. That's why just about every weapon I've had him trace so far was something with an inherent effect rather than an activated one.

For any of you looking for soundtrack recommendations, I advise two songs in particular for this one. The first is the amazing "Emiya", quite possibly one of the most addicting to listen to battle songs of all time. The other is "Yume no Owari". Those of you who recognize those two titles will know the appropriate places to listen to them.

And as always, if there's something you hate, point it out to me, respectfully of course, and I'll see what I can do about it. If there's something you love, just let me know as well for the heck of it.

Now, On with the story.

*Story Start*

I listened carefully as the young noble in front of me carefully outlined his plan. It was a well reasoned, very detailed, and actually quite innovative. When he finished he turned and addressed my Master where she sat in front of me. "Very well then, you will be leaving tomorrow."

From where I was standing at my Master's back I answered for her. "Refused."

"Ah?" the young man said, looking like he didn't quite understand what I meant.

"I said that this mission is refused," I explained for him dryly. His brow knit.

"Now listen here guard," he began, drawing himself upright. He was dressed in immaculate linen, a uniform that had been well tailored to look both regal and functional. "I will not have a lowly swordsman thinking that they can speak to I Mathew Penterdon, the son of General Penterdon of the third air force, in such an insolent manner. Now depart and prepare yourself for your mission," he ordered me imperiously. I quirked an eyebrow at him, studying him curiously.

"I see. Tell me, when you got your appointment, did it happen to come from someone who was historically an enemy of your family? Maybe someone with a political agenda? Possibly someone who wouldn't be the least bit saddened, and would probably end up coming out ahead in some way if you were to die?" I asked, cocking my head curiously. The strange line of questioning seemed to confuse the young noble, this Mathew Penterdon.

"Ah," he trailed off, his eyes darting to the side in apparent thought, before shaking his head briefly. "I don't see how any of that is relevant!" he declared. I gave him a wry smile.

"Then they obviously haven't told you what I did to your predecessor when he attempted to circumvent the chain of command and issue unauthorized commands to my Master in an effort to further his career, and then tried to coerce her into it when she refused him." The smile on my face grew slightly in fond remembrance. "The one who appointed you probably thought I'd do it again and they could get rid of you while keeping their hands clean," I explained to him.

Mathew was a smart enough young man. He glanced to the side, looking at the faces of some of the assembled generals to whom he had been presenting his plan. A few of them refused to meet his gaze. A few others coughed nervously, and refused to meet mine. Mathew's eyes widened as his eyes darted back to me, and he suddenly looked a bit more nervous.

"Don't worry," I assured him. "You're not an incompetent ass like he was. It's just that your plan hasn't taken several key points into account."

"And those are?" he asked, not quite stammering, but sounding like he might be pretty close to it at the moment.

"First off, the Dragon's Raiment," I told him, ticking a finger on my hand. "It's not an all powerful artifact. It has limits to the speed which it can move. I'm pleased to note that you made adjustments to your plan according to rumor, but you were over generous. It cannot safely handle those kinds of speeds. Beyond that, it requires a very specific kind of fuel to work, a fuel which we have an extremely limited supply of," I explained. His widened eyes shrank down to a more normal size as he absorbed the information. The fact that was I calmly explaining rather than attacking probably helped ease his nervousness.

"Secondly, you're not taking in to account the purpose of my Master's place as a trump card. The more she is used in this campaign, the more the enemy will be able to discern her abilities. The more they know, the better they can prepare. Yes, this would advance the position of a small portion of the army, but then what? How much intelligence will they gather from it? How long till they begin to recognize the Raiment's approach, and know that they only have to destroy it to keep us away?" Mathew bowed his head, seeing my point. I continued regardless. "Plus there is my Master herself to consider. How much will power does each of her experimental spells use?" That was the cover Henrietta had assigned. Officially speaking Louise was a member of an experimental magic research initiative known as 'the Zero Organization'. The Dragon Raiment, my Zero fighter, was supposedly the result of that research, as were the supposed 'experimental' spells Louise used. "How many times can she cast a spell before she would require a significant rest to recover? Is it better to use it to achieve what would take nothing more than a few platoons, or would it best to save it for the final assault on Londinium, or perhaps as defensive measure in case the enemy out maneuvers your forces?"

"Now see here, boy," one of the older members of the staff spoke up harshly not liking the implication that his forces might be outmaneuvered. I glanced at the speaker. The Marquis of Handenburg was a Germanian general that led his countries contribution to the war effort. He was hot headed, burning with every bit as much passion as the only other Germanian I knew personally, Kirche. Unfortunately his passion lent itself more towards violence than the red headed school girl. When the campaign had begun two months ago he had learned that Louise and powerful options available to her that he didn't he had instantly planned a high speed assault that relied on my Master leading the charge into every battle between the port town of Rosais and the capital of Albion, Londinium.

He hadn't taken kindly to me vetoing his suicide run instantly. Especially when it was determined that the only person in this camp whose authority I would acknowledge was my Master, and since Louise was a court lady in the employ of Henrietta directly, they couldn't just order her to get me to shut up.

"Furthermore," I continued, ignoring the angry Germanian. "There is my Master to consider directly. She is still a young girl, and not used to the rigors of military life. Though she has been adapting, she is still exhausted. It would do no good to have a trump card that is simply too sick from being worked too hard to be used."

"And what proof do you have that she is close to such a state?" This time it was the Chief of Staff Wimpfenn who interrupted. Wimpfenn's position was a figure head, and everyone but him knew it. The only reason he had been granted such a pretentious title was so that he could be lured in to participating with the war more enthusiastically. His contribution was largely financial and political.

"Because she's been asleep since she sat down," I pointed out dryly. Many of the generals looked to confirm what I had called to their attention, and they saw that yes, the little pink haired girl was asleep with her eyes open in her chair. They hadn't even bothered to notice.

That was quickly becoming the routine of this campaign. Louise's void magic was instantly recognized for its power. It was through a new spell she had managed to develop, 'Illusion', that we had been able to land uncontested and without a single casualty at the port of Rosais in the first place. That single act had already earned her worth more over than any other participant in the war so far. The problem came in the fact that once her power had been proven, it had drawn the hungry eye of every general in the war. The unfortunate aspect was that in their eyes Louise was no longer a person. She was a tool. A tool that they wanted to use till it snapped in their hands.

Their problem with me was that I wouldn't let them, they didn't have the authority to overrule me, and I was more than capable of killing off any one of them without consequence or hesitation if they tried to push it. A fact I had to demonstrate three times so far.

"What is your opinion on when the girl will be capable of returning to duties?" the Supreme Commander General de Poitiers asked me, his voice polite. Of all of the old men gathered in this room, he was the least contemptible of them. He at least made minimal effort to hide his distaste for Louise as a person, and was too politically savvy to make any obvert attempts to undermine my authority through means like assigning me a junior liaison officer in an effort to distract me long enough for him to take advantage of Louise in my absence. That had been the marquis attempt.

De Poitiers was dangerous to my Master in a different fashion. He was a methodical general, neither particularly outstanding not exceptionally incompetent. He was actually the perfect man for the campaign, carefully planning each move, refraining from dangerous gambits, and adhering to established military doctrine. The problem was that his intentions were all politically oriented. If he won this war, he stood for promotion to field marshal of Tristain's forces. And with that in mind he had no problem sacrificing everyone here to ensure his victory. He was also the only one here beside myself and Louise that knew just what Louise's elemental affinity was.

"No sooner than the end of the upcoming festival, the Silver Pentecost," I declared firmly. Naturally, a general roar of disapproval swept the officials. It was enough to jerk Louise awake, and she discreetly began to glance around trying to figure out just what was happening without revealing that she had missed anything.

"Preposterous! What makes you think that you can tell us, the generals of this army when we can and cannot use our troops?" That was Handenburg again. I waited patiently till the generals stopped murmuring. This took quite a bit of time. In fact, until de Poitiers spoke up, it looked like they wouldn't shut up at all.

This was why I hated getting involved in wars. Old men talking, young men dying.

"First of all, hasn't an official cease fire been agreed upon for the duration of the Silver Pentecost in the first place?" I pointed out the obvious to begin with. This was less a matter of them finding my finding my suggestion preposterous, and more them finding me giving a suggestion preposterous. "Unless it is the army's intention to violate the truce, then I think the time frame is more than reasonable." My voice was so pleasant and benign and reasonable that butter wouldn't melt in my mouth. "Second of all, she is not your troop. She is under the direct command of the princess herself. She is here contributing at her own volunteering and at the request of your liege." I smiled peacefully at them. "And third of all if you try to overrule my decision when it comes to the safety of my Master, then I will regard you as a threat to her and run four foot of sharpened steel down your throat and leave you impaled where you sit." This was delivered in the same cheerful tone of voice. The room suddenly had a great deal less talking going on in it.

Mathew gawked at my casual declaration of intent, and then turned to the generals to protest my obvious insubordination. Even as he opened his mouth, he noticed that several of the generals were looking at him and turning a little green around the cheeks. He shut his mouth, and I had a suspicion he had realized what had happened to his predecessor.

Louise sighed in her chair. She might not quite know what was going on seeing that she had been partaking of some hard earned rest a few moments ago, but nonetheless she spoke. "Shirou, stop threatening to kill the generals." The order was given in a long suffering tone. It was one she had to repeat on more than one occasion so far.

"I keep trying, Master, but it's just so hard," I muttered. I eyed Mathew, who looked very unnerved at the moment. "You appear to be a great deal more competent than the one whom you inherited your position from. Come see me tomorrow, and we can go over your plan in greater detail." He swallowed, uncertain if this was a welcoming sign from me, or a signal that his own doom was eminent. "Relax. You show a great deal of promise. It'll just be an informal exercise so that you can become more familiar with our capabilities. Then at least you'll be able to give practical recommendations at the meetings that we are 'forgotten to be invited to'," I drawled. Strangely enough, that didn't seem to reassure the young man at all.

*Scene Break*

"This isn't at all how I thought it would be," Louise admitted to me, sounding exhausted. I didn't blame her. She was exhausted.

"What did you think it would be, Louise?" I asked her gently, pouring her a cup of tea. The two of us had retired for the evening, returning to our lodging in the city of Saxe-Gotha. The town was an important midway point in the campaign. It had a straight road leading all the way directly to the city of Londinium. So far the Albion army had been playing a defensive game. After Louise, using me and the Zero fighter as a delivery system had managed to simulate an attacking fleet through the use of the latest nugget delivered to her via the Founder's Prayer Book she had made her first vital contribution to the campaign and allowed the invading army to land unmolested the only response the opposing army had given was withdraw to a safe point. They were holed up tight, not reacting to us all, and I had to admit it was making me nervous.

Sadly, I was apparently the only one whom found the action suspicious. It had been the initial plan for Tristain-Germainian forces to meet their enemy head on at an earlier point in time, using Louise as a trump to emerge victorious and then finish conquering the land at their leisure. Afterwards the most strenuous thing they had planned for was arguing over how to divide up the new territory. Since the enemy hadn't engaged them in a futile battle, they were now planning to lay siege to the capital and finish the war that way.

My observations that they could potentially be allowing us to advance to a suitable position for them to lay a trap for us and turn the tides was continuously ignored as the uneducated opinion of a backwater iron swinger.

Even with just a high school education I probably ranked as the most widely and well educated person on this giant floating landmass. Nonetheless, it didn't particularly matter to me if this campaign succeeded or failed. Rather than try to force my opinion down their throats, I had simply began drawing up contingency plans for evacuating my Master if the need ever arose.

"I don't know," Louise admitted, sipping her tea and relaxing for the first time that day. "I thought there would be arrows and magic flying about, and blood being spilled. I thought I'd be crawling over dead bodies and fighting for my life, before finally emerging tired and triumphant surrounded by your discarded swords." She sounded embarrassed at her expectations. I had to give her credit. Most people think war would be a bloodless effortless victory. Nothing more dangerous than a stroll in the park. Louise's explanations went far the other direction, though her inevitable victory being predicted was typical with her naivety.

"That's the kind of conflict I'm more used to myself," I admit, feeling a stab of guilt that she would envision it such. I didn't have to wonder where she got those kinds of expectations from. Root damn the dream cycle and what it's done to her. "With smaller campaigns it's much more intimate and intense. You see the enemy face to face, and once the battle is over then that's it, time to divide up the loot and go your separate ways. War," I waved my own cup, grimacing as I did so. "That's something different. War is two fifths preparation, managing supplies, digging latrines, making sure the army is well rested enough. Then it's one part boredom, waiting for the enemy to finally show up. Then it's one part frenzied action and battle. The last part is either accepting or giving surrender." I shrugged cynically. "And it's entirely soaked with the mindless politicking required with managing such a large number of differently minded people."

"I think I'd like your way better," Louise sighed slumping down in her seat. She hadn't been handling the other parts of army life that well either. There simply were no elaborate carriages here, and animals for riding were mostly tapped for military purposes, so she had ended up having to walk a great deal more than she'd ever had in her life since she arrived at this floating island. More than that, for a girl who was used to lavish five course dinners and carefully met dietary needs the sometimes short rations and coarse food she'd been exposed to hadn't been gentle to her either. I had shamelessly and relentlessly begged, borrowed, stole, and coerced every supply I could in order to circumvent the final peril of war: sickness. With so many people pressed into one place, and often at the expense of personal hygiene, illness frequently ran rampant through the ranks. Generally it wasn't anything too serious, just an annoying cough or phlegm throat. But if you weren't careful than otherwise simple infections could become life threatening, especially combined with improper nutrition as well.

Honestly, it could have been a lot worse than it was. As a lady of the court, Louise was afforded a great deal more privacy and better shelter than some out there. Even now, we had an entire room to ourselves in a reasonably sized inn in the conquered city we were staging in. Before that we had a decent tent, and moved several paces behind the army proper. By the time we arrived at the next forward station shelter would already be set up for us.

In the end it was simply the change in lifestyle combined with the personal effort that Louise was putting into this war that was catching up with her. She insisted on knowing all the major initiatives and objectives, on sitting in on the review boards and strategy sessions. She was shouldering the responsibilities of an actual commander instead of just a fancy weapon waiting in it's sheathe to be drawn. She was learning a lot, but the demanding nature of what she was learning was proving too much for her fragile and unprepared body. If it hadn't been for all the training she had forced herself through with me I don't think she'd have been able to handle it.

"So do I," I agreed with her, sipping my own tea. "Louise," I said to her gently. "You need to rest more."

"I can't," she murmured, her eyes unfocused. "There's just too much to do. The scouting parties to the east and west should be returning soon. I'll need to correlate the expected enemy strength with the strategic analysis…"

"No," I told her, still gentle but firm. "Master, you need to rest. Sleep is a part of battle preparation. Exhaustion is the enemy here. You won't do anyone any good if there finally rises a situation where they need your magic and you simply can't stay awake long enough to cast."

"You sleep far less than me," she pointed out. Despite her insistence, she was drowsing where she sat.

"And I'm fully grown, and a lot more used to it," I cut her off. She knew I was right, and it was only her pride keeping her in her chair now. "Sleep. And then you need to eat. Hunger is the enemy here too."

"There sure are a lot of enemies, aren't there?" she managed to get out, her voice tinged with amusement. I smiled back at her gently.

"Indeed," I agreed solemnly. "We are beset upon from all sides." Especially from the command side I couldn't help but grouse to myself silently.

Louise finally put down her cup of tea, unable to resist my urgings any more. When she tried to stand, her exhaustion caught up with her, and she stumbled back down. She gave me a tired look. "Help me please?"

I lifted my little Master carefully and placed her on her bed. I began to undress her gently. She tried to help, but her hands trembled too much to be able to handle even a single button. I wrapped her in her new nightshirt, and helped her fasten it up.

Once we arrived we discovered that Louise hadn't really thought too far ahead when she was considering what she was going to bring. Despite the fact that she still had the strange quirk of not being able to sleep while wearing undergarments she hadn't thought to bring along any night clothes. She had experimented with sleeping in nothing but her cloak, but it had proven uncomfortable for her. In the end, my old red button down shirt that had been worn down to softness like silk from its long use was sacrificed for the task. I had had to hunt down a new top, and settled on the moderately tight black shirt that I now wore. I had torn off the loose billowy sleeves it originally came with, and now Louise's blue aborted sweater that I had purloined to cover my runes also served for keeping my arms warm.

"Shirou," She muttered, already wrapping herself in a woolen blanket. "Go out and relax a bit. I'll be fine for a bit, but you need to unwind too. Stress is the enemy…" She yawned mid sentence, let out a little 'fuuuu', and was asleep the moment her head hit her pillow.

I sighed. "Very well, Master," I addressed her sleeping form. I turned to the table, where Derflinger was still propped up with a cup of tea. "Can I leave her in your care for a while?"

"My care?" the sword let loose a snort. "What am I supposed to do? Tuck her in if she has a nightmare?"

I rapped it on the hilt with a knuckle. "No, but you can shout if there's an intruder to wake her up," I scolded it. I headed to the door. No matter how much I might want to deny it, I was on edge myself. Louise was right. If I didn't find some relaxation soon, I'd probably end up slaughtering all the pigheaded generals myself.

"Go on," the sword told me, sounding sly. "I think there was a settlement of camp followers on the east side of town," it informed me, though how it had gotten that information I don't really want to know. "You should see some of them. Sexual frustration is the enemy after all."

"You are entirely too crude for an asexual weapon, you know that right?" I told it dryly as I headed out the door to find some kind of distraction from my own worries.

*Scene Break*

As I walked around the city of Saxe-Gotha I took a moment to reflect on the fact that Louise hadn't been the only one ill prepared when it came to clothing. It can't be helped. No one is perfect, and no matter how hard you try you're always guaranteed to miss at least one thing.

What I had apparently missed in my own planning was the fact that due to Albion being a floating island, it was freaking cold. Why the army had chosen to begin its campaign at the end of summer, right when fall was beginning to break and the weather to chill, I'll never know. It didn't seem like the kind of amateur mistake that de Pointier would make, so I could guess the blame for it would most likely lay on Henrietta herself. Her eagerness to crush the ones who had taken her love was admirable in its own way, but I wish they had crushed him at a point two or three months earlier.

The atmosphere of the city itself was nearly that of a festival. It was the Silver Pentecost, which was a new year's festival that ran for about two weeks. It was vaguely similar to Japan's own Golden Week in scope. The local residence of the conquered town had set up stalls, and music and hawkers echoed from just about every street corner. When the Tristain-Germanian forces had arrived, they had discovered that the Albion forces had deserted the town without leaving even a token force behind. Instead, they had taken every scrap of food they could. In accordance with the directives of the princess, the army had been forced to share their food with the locals. This left everyone on short rations, but combined with the fact that this city still had lingering loyalties to the now dead and disposed original rulers it had left us as a liberating force rather than a conquering one in the townspeople's eyes. Everywhere you looked there were old men and women thanking the soldiers for their kindness, and young soldiers flexing their muscles and acting silly for the sake of winning them some local lass' affection.

I wondered idly through the streets, keeping an eye out for a vender that would have a decent cloak. I might be able to ignore the cold to a higher extent then some of the others around me, but hey, cold was cold. It was while I was examining a potential buy, a thick piece of heavy blue cloth that would serve nicely as a way to not freeze to death, that I heard a surprised voice call out behind me.

"Oi! New guy!" a woman shouted, and it sounded familiar enough to warrant me turning around. I couldn't help but blink when I saw who was addressing me with a grin.

"Jessica?" I asked just to confirm that this wasn't some very strange case of mistaken identity. The chesty dark haired town girl grinned at me as she picked up her pace a bit. She must have noticed me from across the street while in the middle of doing some shopping of her own. Hanging from the crook of her elbow was a large wicker basket laden with wrapped packages. It looked like she was trying to get her hands on ingredients and was having trouble finding anything people would be willing to part with. "What on earth are you doing here?" I asked her as she flounced up with a grin.

"That's what I should be saying," she teased me, bumping me with her hips playfully. "Don't tell me you got the war bug too and decided to enlist?" She raised an eyebrow in humor. "I hear fighting in a war is on a whole other level then taking care of a few drunks in a back alley."

"Well, something like that," I dodged the question, dropping the cloak I'd been examining earlier. It was an outrageous price, and too small for me anyway. I glanced at the basket in her arm, and raised an eyebrow, lifting a hand to her. "Want me to take that for you?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" she said happily, taking advantage of my good nature to instantly shift her burden onto me. It looks like she definitely remembers how much I like to help. "Come on," she said in a cheerful tone. "When word came down that the army was short on supplies, they opened up the option for merchants to start arriving on their big war ships. When dad heard about it, he decided to start expanding. Figures he'd be able to make a killing on lonely soldiers!" she gloated happily. Apparently she felt her father had good business sense for jumping on the opportunity.

"How is Scarron doing anyway?" I asked letting her lead me along as she started skipping from stall to stall, hunting down bargains with a speed and efficiency that I could never hope to match in a million years. City girls were scary like that out in these lands. Jessica rolled her eyes in long suffering patience.

"You know daddy," she told me as though it should explain everything. I nodded remembering the big man and his very…unique… personality. "The first thing he started doing when he decided to come out here was figure out what his new wardrobe would be." I winced involuntarily.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told her in fervent gratitude. It's not that I didn't like the guy. Really, he helped out a lot of girls in troubled situations, had a good head for business, and was about as nice as they came. It's just, well, I had trouble dealing with him for long periods of time without an appropriate buffer.

"No problem," she chirped. It looks like coming across a familiar face had made her day. "So," she said slyly, glancing at me from the corner of her eye, "what do you think the chances are that the commander of whatever unit you ended up in would be willing to part with your services? We've had trouble finding someone as good at washing dishes as you out here." She teased me playfully.

"Oh," I said dryly. "I doubt they'd be willing to part with me so easily." So that's what the little imp had been angling for.

"Oh? You sure? We'll be willing to give him and a few of his friends discounts. It'd keep you out of the field too. Just think about it, no more risking your life," she sang, trying to tempt me into leaving the military life for the civilian sector once more.

"Oh, I'm positive," I gave her a half grin. Still. Louise had told me to take the day off, and I do need a way to relax… "However, Jessica," I begin, stopping.

"What is it, Shirou?" she asked me, cocking her head and turning to face me. She let loose an 'eep' when she found me standing a foot away from her. She began to blush when I took one of her hands in mine. "W-w-what are you doing?" she gasped, her face red.

"I do have the day off, and there is something you can do for me, if you want me to spend it helping your shop out." My eyes were intense as I peered into hers. "Something that only you can do, something personal."

"W-w-what do you mean?" she stammered again, the flush growing. I let loose a wolfish smile.

*Scene Break*

"Ah!" I said happily, glancing down at the bounty in front of me with a feeling of bliss. "This is just what I needed."

Behind me, Jessica giggled as she shook her head in amusement. She shrugged and turned to her father who was standing beside her and wiggling gratuitously. "Well, he said he'd be happy to help out a night if he got to cook," she explained to Scarron as I happily bustled around the tent's kitchen. The Charming Faerie Inn mark two was a tent, but since it was a semi-permanent one it had a great number of resources that other tents didn't have around here. "I figure we give him enough food and he can make something that lasts all night. We won't even have to pay him!" she declared happily, before suddenly giving me a strange look. "Oi, Shirou. Where did you get the chef hat?"

I had traced it, but naturally I wasn't going to tell them that. This was my night to relax, and I was going to do it in style. "It was over there somewhere," I waved at one of the counters dismissively. Hmm, they had fish, and potatoes. I think the meal would be…

"Uncle," another voice called out, and this one was enough to bring me out of my trance in surprise. "Have you got the ingredients yet? I'm about ready to start…" the voice trailed off when the speaker entered the room and froze, dropping her tray. "Shirou?"

"Siesta?" I gawked back. She was dressed as a maid still, but in getting with the theme of the bar it had been modified to show off more skin. It looked more fetishy then functional. The skirt was much shorter, and the top seemed to be missing a good bit of material. The apron that covered it all was entirely too frilly to be in a kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" we both asked simultaneously. We paused, and I indicated that she should go first.

"Well, a little after you and Louise left there was an attack at the school," she explained, looking like she was still getting over the surprise of running across me in the kitchen of her work. "They closed it down and sent all the students and staff home till the war was over. When I heard that my uncle," which was apparently Scarron, "was coming here to open a store I volunteered to come along." She sounded happy that she had. She smiled at me and clasped her hands in front of her, wiggling almost in sync with her uncle. "And I thought it would be hard to find you here!"

"Well," I began, giving my own explanation, tying an apron on while I did so. "Louise has given me a day off, so I was wandering the town and came across these two," I nodded at Scarron and Jessica, both of whom were glancing back and forth in surprise at our apparent familiarity with each other. "I'd spent some time working for them before, so I agreed to give them a hand on my day off," I gestured at the small kitchen area where I had begun to set up the ingredients I'd need for the menu.

"Ah!" Siesta yelped, finally noticing that I was apparently about to start cooking. "No! Here, let me do it," she ordered, rushing over to try and take the knife away from me as I prepared to begin chopping the vegetables.

"No!" I yelped back, holding the knife above my head as she leaped at it, once more trying to steal my time in the kitchen. "It's fine! Really! I want to cook! I like to cook! You don't have to take over."

"No! I like to cook too! I like to cook for you even more! Let me do it!" When she realized that my height advantage had rendered her incapable of getting the blade from me, she instead targeted my apron, reaching around my neck to try and get at the straps tying it there, her face set in an expression that would have been cute if it hadn't been intended to deprive me of my reward. I used my other arm to try and stop her.

"Ah! Don't tell me that this is the young man you've been writing to us about," Scarron gasped, wiggling as he happily started to narrate his thoughts. "The one you're in love with, but has another woman, but you don't think he'll ever be able to be with her again, so you're trying to convince him that you can heal his broken heart!"

I gawked at Siesta, even as she ignored the world around her as she tried to usurp my position as chef. I still had the knife and apron, but she had managed to get the hat, and it was now perched on her head as she continued her campaign of terror against my recreation. "Just what is it you've been telling them?" Suddenly, a new thought came to me, and I glanced at Jessica with wide eyed horror. She was returning the favor, gaping at me unashamedly. "Wait, you're the cousin that keeps trying to get her to use love potions?"

"Wait, you're the one she's trying to get me to help with seducing?" Jessica gaped back just as shocked. "Great Brimir, it's true," she whispered, as though coming to a realization. "Y-y-y-you really are too much for any one woman." She gaped at me, awe growing on her face. "I didn't really believe it before."

"Argh," I grit my teeth and pressed my temple in frustration. "Will you leave that stupid rumor alone? It was just Louise getting revenge for me making fun of her knitting!" Then I realized something important. I had my hand on my head, which meant…

Sure enough, in the distraction Siesta had managed to get my apron off me and was now bustling behind me, using a smaller paring knife to start cutting the vegetables up while humming. In the fetish maid outfit she looked more like something out of an 'H' game then an actual homemaker like she was trying to portray herself as. Seeing me staring at her, she winked at me over her shoulder. "Just have a seat, Shirou! It'll be done soon!"

No! My dinner! I had it all planned out. First I was going to take the fish and…

No, if I go over my plans again, she'll defeat me while I'm distracted! I refuse. I refuse to surrender the kitchen. This called for desperate action.

"You know," I said, my voice low and deep, as I moved to stand directly behind her. She froze when she realized I was pressing my chest against her back. "You don't have to kick me out," I whispered in her ear. Her face began to turn bright red. I placed my hands on her shoulders, tracing my fingers slowly down her arm to her wrap around her hands. Her blush turned atomic and she began to shake. "We could both help each other. In close proximity, brushing against one another. We could cook," and here I let my voice trail to a whisper, my voice slow and intimate, "to-ge-ther."

It proved too much for the maid. With a long high-pitched whine that sounded like water in a kettle coming to a boil, she passed out in my arms.

"Well then!" I declared happily, recovering my apron and my hat. "You two look after her, I should be done soon!"

"Wow," Jessica whispered, staring at me in shock as I handed Siesta to an entirely too amused Scarron. "Was that Shirou's attack power? No wonder women fall to him…"

I rolled my eyes. Now, to get started on the fish.

*Scene Break*

"Mou!" Siesta pouted, her face still flushed, but this time in embarrassment at having been defeated so easily. "But I wanted to cook!"

"There there," I told her benevolently, smiling as I put the plates on the table where Scarron, Jessica, Siesta, and soon to be myself were sitting. Around us the rest of the girls at the bar were flitting about, their skirts flouncing behind them as they helped happy soldiers and curious locals, beginning to serve the meal I had prepared earlier. "Just try it."

Still pouting she took a bite as I took my seat. She froze, the fork in her mouth. Without another word she slumped. "I've been defeated," she began to cry piteously.

"There there," it was Jessica's turn to console, even as she happily began to tuck in to the food. "Just think. You, him, the kitchen, and…" she leaned in to whisper something in the maid's ear. Siesta's face began to flush, starting at the base of her neck and flooding all the way up to her hairline.

"You don't think…?" she said, sounding unsure, but like she wanted to believe. "Would that work?"

"It will!" Jessica proclaimed, clasping her cousin's fist in her hand her own face determined. "I guarantee it. And I will help!" Siesta's eyes widened in response to the declaration and she grasped her cousin's hand with both of hers.

"Really, Jessica?" stars shone in her eyes. I tried really hard to ignore their presence the same way they were ignoring mine as well.

"Yes! I will find out once and for all if he really is too much for just one woman to handle," fire had lit in the city girl's eyes. "The dual naked apron will win this battle with absolute certainty!"

"So," Scarron started, also purposely ignoring the two impassioned girls sitting besides us. "How's little Louise?"

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it. Using all my skills, I ignored the reality a few feet beside me and focused on Scarron instead. An act I never really thought would be the lesser of two evils. "Absolutely exhausted. She's been working herself to the bone again," I sighed. "Today is the first time she's had more than four hours of sleep since she got here."

"Ara!" Scarron wiggled a bit, and concentrated on eating his food and not paying attention to the two girls embracing each other and crying happily next to him. "That poor girl! Do you think we can see her?"

"Not tonight," I tell him directly, but I smiled at him to soften the order. "I'll bring her by tomorrow though. We have time off with the Pentecost, so I'm sure she'd be happy to swing by."

"Tres bien!" Scarron proclaimed wiggling in his seat.

I decided to focus my attention on the customers around me, watching as they enjoyed my food. That way I wouldn't have to see Scarron wiggling, nor Siesta and Jessica plotting.

Just savor the peace, I told myself. Just savor the peace.

*Scene Break*

"Shirou," Louise said to me patiently as she sat at the table. "Why do we keep coming here again?"

"Because it's a reservoir of peace in an otherwise tumultuous maelstrom of chaos?" I tried, supplying the answer as best I could.

"Hahaha," Louise said, not actually laughing but just saying the syllables in a dry tone. I tried not to shudder at the sound. It wasn't that it was a bad sound, it just that the way she pronounced was just a little too similar to the 'Tohsaka Rin Scary Laugh'. "Really? This is the best we can do?" she asked eying the scene in front of us.

"Just try to ignore it, Louise," I advised her. It was a survival mechanism that I had become quite good at using. No, Jessica hadn't started to spread rumors of my sexual prowess. No, those imaginary rumors were not grossly exaggerated and humanly impossible. No, the other girls at the inn were not staring at me with wide eyes laden with worship and awe. No, they were not dangerously close to forming a cult.

"I'm trying, Shirou," she told me her eye twitching and her fists periodically closing on her knitting needles without warning, causing her already shady stitching to develop strange and disturbing knots all up and down the scarf she was working on. "But it doesn't seem to be working."

"Then try harder, Master," I recommended, and took a sip of the sake I had in my hand and sighed happily. It was actual sake, not wine. Albion itself didn't carry much in the way of wine. I think it had something to do with the climate not being good for grapes. Instead they brewed a strong and rather tasty beer instead. However, Scarron had taken offense to this supposed inadequacy. In Tristain wine was the only way to go when it came to drink. Thus he had gone overboard in brining a very large variety of his favored brew with him when he set up shop. He was hoping to cultivate a taste for it in the local populace and thus ensure a monopoly on the market. Part of the process of going overboard had been brining a wide variety of lesser known or cared for wine.

And in that mix, I had discovered this gem: genuine rice wine. It wasn't very popular, and I didn't blame anyone for that. Some mad genius in this land might have tried to brew it, probably at a whim, but they hadn't exactly had the experience for making proper sake. Thus, the drink was of poor quality. It was such a nostalgic taste that I honestly didn't care, and that left me the only one willing to drink the brew.

The morning after I had discovered the inn I had informed Louise about it. She had been thrilled, and consequentially she had insisted we head over immediately, for once not caring about the fact that we'd be missing the generals meeting. When we had tried to head out, I had discovered that contrary to my expectations the aide Mathew Penterdon had shown up to have the review session I had decided on.

We had brought him along rather than put off our intended trip. The end result was that Penterdon was no longer scared to death of me, and that the Charming Faerie Inn had managed to get a good bit of reputation amongst some of the higher ranks of the command. Business was doing well for them.

After a brief bit of happy girlish squealing when Louise and Siesta had met up, followed by the two of them disappearing for a prolonged period of time after Siesta had proudly shown off her newest romance novel and Louise dragging her to the back so they could read it immediately, we had settled down to do a bit of recovering. After a week of being with her friend, eating well from the meals I continued to help with, and being able to genuinely relax, Louise was looking much healthier than she had before.

I took another sip of my sake, practicing my reality denial skills while looking out of the tent peacefully. Beside me Louise continued to frown at her knitting. She glared at it with an expression of fierce concentration, poking her tongue out unconsciously as she did so. I think she was trying to make a scarf this time. So far it didn't look like it was going to try and eat anyone like her sweaters usually end up doing, but I was giving it time. It might just be laying in wait for an opportune moment to strike.

It was just the two of us at the moment. It was the height of the Silver Pentecost festival, and business was booming for the inn so Jessica, Scarron, and Siesta were all busy waiting on tables. It was a very peaceful moment for the two of us. I was wondering how long it would last.

"Sir Emiya?" a surprised voice came from behind me. Looks like I jinxed myself. I glanced over to confirm who it was I had just heard. Despite myself, I was actually surprised to find I was a little happy to see who I thought it was who I thought it was.

"Guiche," I greeted, smiling slightly. Louise blinked and glanced up to see where I was looking. She smiled too, and then seemed to get a confused look on her face when she realized that she too was apparently happy to see the annoying skirt chaser.

"Oh? Louise too?" the blond haired young noblemen proclaimed, smiling at his sister in suffering. "How have you been? I haven't heard that you were on this campaign. What regiment are you with?"

"None," the little pink haired girl told him as the blond came over to join us at the table. Beside him was another man, a fairly big fellow. It looked like Guiche had made a friend in the army. "I'm here as an observer," Louise told him, using her cover story for her presence. "Princess Henrietta asked that I come along to help see that the remaining generals had a moral presence around." Louise gave a small helpless shrug, as though to say, 'What can you do? The command needed a woman's touch.'

"Ah," Guiche moaned dramatically, putting his hand to his forehead and posing. Beside him, the large fellow rolled his eyes, but seemed inured to the smaller noble's actions by now. Seeing both Louise and I giving the taller fellow curious looks, Guiche hurried to introduce us. "Ah! This is Nicola. He is the sergeant in the company that I have been placed in charge of." He drew himself up and I recognized the symptoms of an imminent brag fest, but then he paused. Looking sheepish, he assumed a more humble stance before continuing. "I have to admit, I was ill prepared for a command post, but the sergeant has been assisting me greatly," he admitted. The big man gave him a playful whap on the shoulders, nearly sending the smaller lad of the chair.

"Don't sell yourself short, commander," Nicola said, seeming fond of Guiche for some reason. "You might be a bit inexperienced, but you did a superb job once combat started. They even gave you a metal for it!" He turned back to us grinning. "Your young friend led our unit to being the first to enter Saxe-Gotha proper during the invasion," he explained. I glanced down at Guiche's chest and saw that he did indeed have something shiny pinned to his uniform. I had assumed it was just something he put there to look good, but it appeared it actually had worth.

"Congratulations, Guiche," Louise told him, sounding genuinely happy. I wasn't certain if it was for his accomplishments, that he had survived, or simply if she was just overjoyed to see a familiar face after having to deal with so many people so much less pleasant than a wannabe lothario.

I nodded my head as well in praise. "I'm glad to hear that, Guiche," I told him. Hmm. What was this strange feeling in my chest? It was warm and vaguely self congratulatory. I think its pride. So this is what a teacher feels when they realize the problem student they thought would be flipping burgers all their life goes out and makes something of themselves.

The blond grinned smugly, posing with his flower wand again. "No," he declared magnanimously. "It is I who should thank you for this honor, Sir Emiya! Without your guidance, I fear I would have been lost." He turned to his sergeant and explained. "Sir Emiya was the one who taught me all I know about battle. He is a master swordsman, and without his guidance I fear I would have done nothing more than hide once we actually confronted the orcs at the gate."

It was Nicola's turn to eye me. His gaze looked a little disturbed. "So this is the one who taught you how to deal with orcs?" he asked, looking a little green. He flinched as instantly Louise, Guiche, and my own faces all narrowed into glares.

"Stupid, smelly, swinish, baby eating abominations," I muttered darkly, my two students nodding darkly. Nicola looked a little unnerved but continued.

"And he's also the one who taught you that…" he trailed off, this time wincing. "That interesting training method?" he finally put delicately. His eyebrows rose as both Louise and Guiche simultaneously winced.

"I know it worked," Guiche muttered, rubbing at phantom bruises. "I'm thankful it worked, but still, I can't help but think there must have been another way." Louise nodded her head solemnly in agreement. I rolled my eyes at the two drama queens.

"You both asked for it," I reminded them pointedly, sipping at my sake. I held out the bottle to Nicola, indicating an empty cup. He nodded and I poured him some. He took a sip, and then seemed surprised at both the taste and the fact that I insisted the sake be prepared warm. He put on a contemplative look, and sipped again, tasting it carefully. "Repeatedly, I might add."

"Still, there is another thing I must thank you for, Sir Emiya," Guiche went on, ignoring my quip at him. He sounded genuinely excited now, nearly jumping in his seat. "During combat, you were right. I found myself achieving a greater level of awareness. Not as great as your own," he hastened to add for some reason. It's not like I'd be jealous if he managed to start doing his own blind sword stopping. If anything I'd just use it as an opportunity to spar with him more seriously. It's good to have an experienced partner to sharpen yourself against. "But it is because of the new awareness that I managed to advance," Guiche crowed. "I have become a line class mage!"

"Really?" Louise asked, her eyes widening. "Congratulations, Guiche!" and this time she sounded like she really was congratulating him for his accomplishment. I nodded along with her, but now my curiosity had sparked.

"Really now?" I murmured softly, mostly to myself. "Guiche," I said, my voice suddenly authoritative. The blond jumped, straightening up in his seat unconsciously. "Did you use your sword in the assault?" I asked him directly.

"Yes, Sir Emiya!" he said immediately, his voice a bit loud, sounding more like he was addressing a superior in a briefing then an old pseudo friend at a bar.

"Form it," I commanded him in the tone of his instructor. "Right now." Without another word Guiche was holding a sword in his hand immediately. Nicola seemed amused by how the blond instantly obeyed me. I got the impression that he had a bit of experience with the 'poseur' Guiche as well as the apparently forming 'combat' Guiche. I took the blade from him, and began studying it carefully. It only took me a second, and then I returned it to him with a smile. "Very nicely done," I complimented him freely. "I can see that you've began to make your own style."

"Really?" Guiche asked, sounding pleased that he had impressed me. "How can you tell, Sir Emiya?" he asked eagerly, sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited more me to explain my conclusion.

"Here," I told him, and held my hand up.

Trace on.

I formed Guiche's original sword in my hand, holding it up so that he could compare it to the one in his hand now. Nicola gaped as he saw me perform magic. That happened often enough. Out here when someone was called a 'swordsman' it meant 'commoner'. "Look," I pointed out the differences. Guiche leaned in eagerly. Louise did too, but her attention was more out of curiosity than anything else. She was always eager to pick up little tidbits of information and was used to me being a reliable dispensary of them. "You've subconsciously altered the curve of the blade, rendering it a more effective slashing weapon than piercing weapon. You've also widened the fuller at the hilt, yet shortened it at the tip. You began to make your sword heavier at the tip, altering the balance so it stronger on the swing. However, you've improved the composition as well, so the blade itself is stronger yet lighter. If I were to guess I'd say you like a set stance, not doing much in the way of movement. You probably use your valkyries to cover your rear and flanks, forcing opponents to meet you head on, right" I predicted.

Nicola looked impressed. Apparently he had noticed Guiche's style while serving under him and found my assessment to be fairly accurate. The sergeant looked like a lifer, someone who's been serving in the military since he was a kid and would probably stay in till he died. Guiche took the two swords from me, and began to study the difference, noticing the points I had made. He probably hadn't realized what he had been doing at all. Louise nodded contemplatively. She had begun to adopt a vaguely nostalgic look, as though remembering a time when Guiche wasn't a credible person and more a comic relief persona in her eyes.

"Oi," a voice penetrated over the din of the crowd, causing Guiche to start in surprise from his careful study of the blades in his hands. "No swords out in the inn!" Jessica had managed to sneak up on the group, and now stood with her hands on her hips and a stern look on her face as she lectured the young man. Looking sheepish, Guiche dissolved the blade he had made and I discreetly allowed my own contribution to fade. Then Guiche got a good look at the girl lecturing him, a look which mostly comprised of him staring at her chest. Jessica was in her serving girl outfit, a sleek green off the shoulder number that left her with quite a bit of exposed cleavage and pretty much guaranteed her a tip every time she leaned over. Guiche reacted naturally from there.

"Ah," he said, his voice achieving that tone that he only ever managed to hit when he was about to slip into flirting mode. "Forgive me! I should have known better then to have steel out in the presence of a blossom," he apologized shamelessly, smiling a pearly white smile at Jessica. With a flourish he swiped his wand, and instead crafted a small delicate looking flower. It was polished bronze and very intricately done. If he had put half as much effort into his swordsmanship as he had into practicing that little trick then I imagine he'd truly be a horror someday. "Please, except this token of my apology."

Jessica gave a flustered smile and blushed prettily. "Ah," she gasped. "It's lovely. Thank you good sir." She fluttered her eyelashes shyly at Guiche.

"Such a trifle pales in comparison to your presence," he assured her grandly. Jessica delicately pressed it to her breasts, glancing down demurely. However, the moment Guiche turned away to pour himself a glass and wink at Nicola, Jessica gave me a wink of her own and stuck out her tongue mischievously.

Louise and I both noticed, and both had to take sips of our wine in order to cover up our own smirks. Looks like Jessica got a new target. Maybe losing every penny he had to the city girl would finally teach the blond noble to be a bit more cautious when it came to women.

"Ah! Mr. Guiche," another voice declared, and the blond turned again in surprise. Siesta flounced up to stand beside her cousin, smiling at him as she did so. The two hadn't exactly been best of friends, but they both spent enough time with Louise and me individually to at least be familiar with each other. Guiche responded again, this time less flirtatiously and more sincerely.

"Siesta," he proclaimed with a note of welcome in his voice. She might have been beneath his station, but she was a pretty girl so of course he would be polite to her. Nicola seemed impressed with Guiche's way with the ladies as the cute maid in the somewhat abbreviated maid costume gave a little curtsey to the blond before flouncing over to me. "It is surprising to see you here. Come for Sir Emiya, I imagine?" he sent me a sly glance as he asked her politely.

"Of course!" Siesta declared without hesitation. "Shirou, it's time for my break! I've come to play," she beamed at me before sliding into the seat next to Louise and I. Nicola looked a little lost at the interpersonal on goings, but was happy to have a pretty girl join the table no matter what the case. She glanced over at Jessica, and an apparent silent message was sent between them. The other dark haired girl grinned wickedly before sliding into the seat between me and Guiche.

"Well," I said, trying to ignore the feeling of nervousness that was beginning to form in me for some reason. I kept getting the sense that I was about to be attacked, but couldn't identify the source. It wasn't like assassins had managed to penetrate the city and were now hiding directly behind the girls on either side of me, was it? "You might want to be careful," I cautioned the maid dryly.

"Oh?" Siesta asked, looking unsure of why I would say something like that. "Why's that?"

"Well," I began, cocking my head to the side. "It's just that Louise is knitting again, and well, it can get dangerous." Siesta glanced over to her other side and saw what I was talking about. Somehow during the conversation the simple scarf my pink haired Master had been knitting had managed to sprout what were either stray threads or woolen tentacles again, and had managed to wrap them around Louise's hands in mid stitch. Louise apparently hadn't noticed, paying too much attention to the conversation around her. When she glanced down and saw her predicament, she yelped.

"Ah! Shirou! Kill it! Kill it quick!" she ordered me. A few painful experiences in the past had quickly taught the pink haired girl that once her knitting had gotten this far it was better to throw pride to the wind and get help before her experiments managed to get further out of hand.

"Louise," Siesta moaned, sounding sad for her friend's predicament. With a sigh I leaned over and began freeing the pink haired girl from her predicament before she started panicking and made it worse. I swear. I know its most likely just her getting tangled up by accident, but sometimes I could almost believe that she really was somehow empowering the yarn with some sort of extra dimensional tentacle horror from beyond the realms of human comprehension. "Keep practicing, Louise," the maid encouraged, raising both her fists up in the air in encouragement. Then the dark haired girl seemed to realize my position: body leaning across hers as I helped free my Master from her woolen oppressor. She smiled happily.

"Why does this keep happening?" Louise wailed. The yarn monstrosity had somehow crept up her arms and down her legs. Her clothes were beginning to get entangled in it, and she flushed as she realized that her struggles was pulling up her skirt and stretching the buttons on her blouse.

"Louise," I said trying my best from not becoming entangled myself. "Please promise me that you'll never practice alone," I begged her. "I know you don't like people seeing you while you do it, but if there's no one around to free you then your knitting might end up taking advantage of you." Louise flushed as everyone at the table had a laugh at her expense. She puffed up her cheeks angrily, and her eye began to twitch as she glared at me.

The sad part was that I wasn't trying to be funny. For some reason her entanglements inevitably led to some kind of embarrassing position for her. It was part of the reason I was so sure that they were tentacle monsters.

Once she was finally free, Louise decided the best thing she could to was weather out the laughter was drink. "It's not that funny," she muttered. Still, despite her failure she took it well.

"No it wasn't," I agreed fervently. "I keep worrying one day I'll lose, and then a monster the world just isn't prepared to face will be free to wreak its horrible wrath on all it comes across." That set everyone to laughing again. I shook my head. They didn't realize I was being serious. Rather than finding my statement comforting Louise's face turned even redder.

Finally, in desperation to get the attention of her she snapped and used on of her trump cards. "Shirou! No killing Eleanor!"

Something inside Siesta heard that and reacted on instinct. "For Louise's sister!" she cried, launching herself with such force that her chair was sent scraping backwards loudly as she sank my head into the crevice of breasts. Considering she was still wearing her low cut maid outfit I was left feeling a great deal of her warm skin on mine. Caught off guard I stumbled to the side, falling off my chair and bumping into Jessica, who looked surprised.

"Wait, Siesta! Already?" she asked, confusing the situation. Her face took on a resolute look. "For my cousin's happiness!" she declared, and then launched her own attack, sandwiching me in my own personal marshmallow hell. The rest of the room began laughing and launching cat calls and wolf whistles at the scene.

"Truly," Guiche murmured, watching with wide admiring eyes. "Sir Emiya is one of the greatest men alive." Beside him, Nicola, who was completely caught off guard by all the shenanigans could only sit there and gape, nodded in silent admiration of his own.

Louise watched the devastation she had unleashed, and smiled happily at me when it looked like no one was going to pay any more attention to her adventures in knitting.

*Scene Break*

"Shirou," a hesitant voice started from over my shoulder, causing me to turn my head. An hour or so ago I had separated from the rest of the party, leaving Guiche, Louise, Nicola, and Jessica who had been joined by Scarron and a few other troopers that were apparently in Guiche's command. The men were having a grand old time, drinking freely and swapping stories. Jessica was having a grand old time taking them for every tip they were worth. Even Louise was having a grand old time, telling embarrassing stories about Guiche's misadventures with women to the table at large, evoking laughter with each tale.

"Yes, Siesta?" I said, addressing the maid. She had been part of the group as well, though she was apparently the only one who had noticed when I had separated myself so I could take my sake and sit closer to the exit. She was flushed in what was probably embarrassment at her earlier actions.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked softly, looking downcast and pushing two of her fingers together. She looked ashamed at the thought that she might have been responsible for me leaving the group at large.

I smiled at her ruefully, shaking my head gently. "No," I assured her. "It's fine Siesta. Your heart was in the right place at least," I told her wryly. She gave me a small grin, sticking out her tongue at my gentle jibe.

"Then why are you over here by yourself?" she asked curiously, her hands clasped in front of her as she cocked her head to the side cutely.

"Just having a snow viewing is all," I told her, sipping my sake and turning to the door of the tent again. It was late at night, and without electricity lighting was scarce in the city. For the most part the only thing illuminating the immediate surroundings was the light from the lamps of the inn.

"A snow viewing?" Siesta asked, sounding hesitant. I nodded a chair for her to join me. I made sure not to offer her any wine though. I wasn't sure what would happen if I lit the fuse on that powder keg again.

"Yes," I agreed, before explaining. "In my homeland we like to have viewing festivals sometimes. Flower viewing in the spring when the cherry blossoms are falling is a national past time. And lots of people have late night private moon viewings as well." I let loose a small contented breath. "I guess I was just feeling a bit nostalgic," I admitted, blaming the wine. Not just because it was alcoholic, but also because it was a poignant reminder of Japan.

"Ah," Siesta hummed in understanding, turning her attention to the fat drifting flakes as they were illuminated by the arc of light of the tent. She smiled gently as she watched. "It's very peaceful," she admitted, turning her small smile to me again while brushing some of her hair over her ear.

"Mmhm," I hummed back in affirmation. Together, just like the time when the two of us had watched the dawn at the field of Tarbes, we sat together peacefully, enjoying the beauty of nature.

"It's almost enough to make you forget that there's a war out there," Siesta finally said, her voice sounding sad. I glanced at the kind girl. She had her face puckered up in sorrow, and had fisted her hands in her skirt.

I snorted at that. "There's always a war out there, Siesta," I told her cynically. "If there's one human alone, they're a saint. If there are two, they're lovers. And if there's a third, well, one of them will kill the other. It's the way it is now. It's the way it was before. It's the way it'll always be."

"That's a sad thing to say, Shirou," she scolded me with a pout.

I sighed. "You're right. Sorry. The nights drinking has brought out the worst in me I suppose." I was lying. I wasn't sorry at all. When did I start to think like that, I wonder? I kept staring out at the snow falling. I imagined it was ash, descending from some vast fire some incalculable distance away.

A hand on my knee almost made me start. I glanced over at its owner. Siesta was looking at me again, her face sad. "It's because of this. Because of war. All the nobles, fighting and killing each other is bad enough. But they have to bring everyone else into it." It was the most bitter I'd ever heard the normally kind country girl. "I wish the nobles would all kill each other, and let the rest of us alone."

"Heh. And if you had magic, you could enforce that wish. Then you'd be just like them," I snorted. She winced and glanced away ashamed of herself. "You mentioned once, why I didn't try to get back to my homeland? It's because it's the same, no matter where you go." The sake was warm, and the night was cold. Beside me, Siesta shivered and drew close. In the loud inn, no one noticed the two of us sitting quietly to the side. She shivered again beside me. I don't know if it was the cold wind blowing in, or the cold words being said. "So instead of worrying about it, let's sit here and watch the snow fall."

The silence we sat in was intimate. Not the kind of intimate that was between lovers; the kind of intimate that was between two people who could call each other friends. Still, silence never lasts forever. Siesta began to giggle, her body jiggling against me comfortingly.

"Hehehe. You know what you were saying earlier, about if there were three people?" she looked up at me, her eyes dancing with mischievous. I cocked an eyebrow, curious about where she was going with this. "Well, if you were there, Shirou, three people would still be lovers." She stuck her tongue out at me cheekily again.

I gaped at her teasing, and then began to laugh helplessly. Siesta joined me softly.

"I was lying earlier," she admitted to me when we finally got control of ourselves. "I don't hate all nobles. Some of them are alright. Miss Kirche, and Miss Tabitha. Mr. Guiche. And Miss Valliere. And you," she smiled up at me softly. "I want you all to be alright." She looked at me. This wasn't the normally soft and kind girl that I knew. This was something fierce, something that was bred into her, the toughness of a country girl, born and bred with the threat of weather, of monsters, of nobles hanging over her.

I've always known that I had a weak spot for strong women. And right now Siesta was pressing that button hard.

Siesta didn't seem to notice, something that I was very grateful for. She pressed on, still fierce. "I have something I want to ask of you, Shirou."

In the noise of the inn, no one noticed the two of us as Siesta made her request of me. No one noticed when she gave me something.

Afterwards, the two of us sat in silence, watching the snow fall.

I even let her have some of my sake. Just a bit though.

*Scene Break*

Later that night, after Louise and I had returned to our hotel room, I sat awake letting the buzz of the alcohol fade from my head, watching the snow fall from the window. Louise was asleep, wrapped in my old shirt, snoring happily. The girl just couldn't hold her alcohol, no matter how much she tried.

I sat alone in the dark, listening to her as she would occasionally emit a small 'fuuu', or a 'mun mun mun'. I smiled affectionately.

In the distance, in the still of the night, there was an explosion. It broke the still night like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. The windows of the hotel rattled from the concussive force. A second one emitted, from the same side of town separated by a few hundred yards. Then a third, then a fourth.

"Ah?" A sleepy voice emitted from behind me as I watched the carnage begin to unfold. "Shirou," Louise yawned, interrupting her own wake up speech, "what's going on?"

"The counterattack has come," I told her softly. "There's no reason to concern yourself Master. I will slaughter anyone that seeks to disturb your rest. Please, get what sleep you can."

"Ah," Louise yawned, her sleepy face beneath her pink hair screwed up cutely. "If that's all that's going on." She laid back down to return to her rest.

Five. Four. Three. Two. One…

"WHAT!" Louise sat back up, shrieking in shock. Another explosion ripped through the night.

*Scene Break*

It didn't surprise me that they attacked. Attacking on a religious and supposedly sacred holiday has always been a time honored military tradition. I couldn't even begin to count the number of times it's happened it my own world. I doubt Derflinger could come up with an easy number for the number of times it's happened in this one. But still, somehow no one but me saw it coming.

What I'll admit to having not having saw coming was the fact that the Albion forces had somehow managed to enchant fully one third of the Tristain-Germanian forces to participate in the counter assault. That one really had me caught by surprise. The end result of it had been that our army had been routed completely, that all the brass had fled as fast as they could, and that now the poor foot soldiers were being forced to slog their way back to Rosais as fast as they could, disheartened and miserable the entire way.

Unfortunately, the princess' court lady didn't rate a proper transport. Thus it had fallen to me to secure one.

Also unfortunately, the initial counter assault had killed both de Pointier, and the Marquis Handenburg. That left only the Chief of Staff Wimpfenn in charge. I'd like to blame his decided course of action on his incompetence or unpreparedness for the duties of actually having responsibility. Sadly, I couldn't. This was a military campaign, and when dealing with large numbers, math comes in; math like sacrificing one to save thirty thousand.

And thus when I managed to make it back to the tent where I had left Louise, two horses behind me for us to make our retreat with I wasn't surprised at all to find Mathew Penterdon there, with a small sheet of paper containing her orders.

When Mathew saw me and instantly broke into a cold sweat, I already knew what awaited us.

"Go," I told the young military aide who was doing his job. My tone might have been less than friendly, but was also not murderous. It was simply resigned. The young man took my advice as gospel and ran like hell. I had no attention for him. All of it was focused on my Master, my poor pale master and the sheet of paper that held her fate in it.

"I've been ordered to assume a position alongside the escape route on the hills outside Saxe-Gotha. I will wait there till the enemy army of seventy thousand approaches. Once they are in range of my magic, I am to continuously cast until I am no longer capable of casting. I am to delay the enemy army for as long as possible, as to provide time for our army to retreat safely. I am not allowed to retreat, nor am I allowed to surrender," Louise whispered tonelessly.

I moved till I stood in front of her. Then I kneeled. "I have no interest in what orders were given to you, Master. My only concern is what orders you give to me." I raised my head and looked the young girl in her eyes. She was so tiny. Even when I was on my knees, we were still almost face to face. "Command me, Master."

She looked so small and fragile as she stood there. She knew what I was offering. I had two horses with me. Her summer at the Charming Faerie Inn had provided her with more than enough experience for her to blend in and disappear, to walk away. To the thrice damned depths of the Root with this foolish campaign, with these foolish generals who distained her and then discarded her; to go back to her home and to her family.

But to do so would mean turning her back on her country, and her comrades, on all those who would die up here, on this floating island.

"Stand beside me?" she whispered. It wasn't an order. It was a plea, from a barely seventeen year old girl who had just been ordered to die. It was a desperate request, from one who was too scared to die alone that I stand beside her while she fell and that I fall with her.

I smiled. "As you wish, my Master." I stood. She was trembling, my little Louise. With a patient sigh, I took a step forward and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. She didn't resist, and leaned against me, bringing her hands up to clench my shirt. I ignored her trembling, staring out the window at the masses of soldiers and civilian merchants who had just been unlucky enough to be caught out here while trying to raise a profit. "Since we will not be leaving with the rest, Louise, would you like a cup of tea while we wait for them to clear out?"

I pretended not to notice her sobs as she choked out her response. "Yes. Some tea would be nice."

*Scene Break*

"Shirou," Louise whispered, holding her cup of tea in a hand that no longer shook. "I've been thinking."

"About what, my Master?" I encouraged her with a gentle smile. She took a sip of her tea again. When I had prepared it, Derflinger in his usual spot beside us, I had produced a bottle of sake that I had managed to purloin from Scarron for my own personal use. Without a hint of remorse, I had generously doused the tea with the booze, and Louise seemed to be enjoying the relaxing effect it had on her.

"About what you said, back at the inn," she admitted. "About what I was willing to fight and die for." She sat in her chair, unconsciously curling herself into a ball as she did so, swishing the cup of alcoholic tea in her hands as she stared at it. She had moved past tears now, and had achieved a state I'd only seen a few times before. It was the state that only one who was about to die can achieve: a strange mix of epiphany and resolve. When one knew ones time left was limited, the eye that they can cast back on their life sees things that they were always too afraid to admit before.

"What conclusions have you come across, Master?" I asked her, my voice comforting as I watched her. My own cup of tea rested before me, as inert and untouched as the cup that rested before Derflinger. I did not need such courage. My own resolve had been set a long time ago.

"It really is a foolish thing, war," she murmured. The alcohol had managed to take the stress of the day off of her, and she seemed contemplative. "To fight and die for the ideals and ambitions of the select few who manage to lie and cheat and steal till they can stand above others and order them as they will." She slumped down, finally releasing her tension at the admission.

"Then why are you willing to do it, Master?" I asked. It was more curiosity than anything else. I wasn't trying to argue her out of her decision. It was probably the hardest one she had ever had to make. It had taken more out of her than any scalpel could ever hope to carve, cut deeper than any blade. To try and argue with her would do nothing more than cheapen her sacrifice, to diminish her resolve. I could not do that to anyone, even my worst enemy, much less the small girl I called my Master.

"It's not for them," she murmured. "It's because if I didn't than what would happen to Guiche? To Siesta, to Jessica, to Scarron? To the rest of the girls of the inn? To the rest of these poor soldiers? To the princess?" She shook again, briefly. "In the end, we're all going to die. But if I die first, then I can keep how many of them alive for just a bit longer?" She gave me a shaky smile. "I guess I want to save someone too."

I shook my head resolutely, as Louise drank a bit more of her tea to settle herself. "That's not saving, Louise." She widened her eyes at me. "That's protecting. There's a difference," I smiled calmly. "You know," I said to her casually, "Siesta feels the same way."

"What do you mean?" Louise asked, yawning as she did so. Her eyes were beginning to droop, her body slump forward in a relaxed manner.

"Just yesterday, at the inn, she came to me," I explained, watching her closely. "She told me that she worried for you. And for me," I gave a small chuckle and a shrug. "She said to me, 'Shirou. If Louise tries to put herself in danger, I want you to make sure she stays safe!' She even gave me something to help with it. It was a sleeping potion, a potent one. She wanted me to drug you with it if I ever had to, and to make sure I got you to safety while you were unconscious." I sighed, looking at my Master where she sat. The potion had finally started taking affect. I had no idea how long it would last, but I had made sure to use the whole thing, mixed in with the alcohol and the tea. "The army still needs to be stopped though. And you and I really were best ones for the job. It's too bad though." I trailed off. Louise was lost to the world now. My words had distracted her long enough for the potion to do its work already so there really wasn't any need to explain further to the girl. Gently I reached over and brushed her strawberry blond hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear affectionately.

"What's too bad, partner?" Derflinger piped up from its corner. It had witnessed the whole thing, with the patient observance of steel. It didn't matter to a sword who stood against the assembling army coming for us, or even if anyone stood at all.

"That for all I qualify as a Saber, I am still equally qualified for an Archer," my smile turned a trifle bitter. "And Archer's are uniquely suited for independent action; even if it's at the expense of their Master."

*Scene Break*

"Oi, partner," Derflinger said, its voice lacking its usual slightly mocking edge and had a softness I wasn't accustomed to in it. "Are you sure about this?"

"About what, Derflinger?" I asked just as quietly. I was lying on my back, watching as a clear night formed around me. To the west, the sun had just begun to set, the crimson hues it painted the sky slowly fading away into darkness as though ink was spilled on a red surface and was spreading over it slowly.

"About that," the sword said, and if it had a head it would have nodded at the legion that was even now pouring down the pass. I had chosen a spot slightly outside of Saxe-Gotha, along the escape route that only hours ago the last of the refugees had traveled down. It was a hilly area, though not steep enough to qualify as a mountain. A man could traverse up and down the hills in these parts easily enough, though it would take a great deal more time than the valley pass that the army of seventy thousand was utilizing. "Is it really okay, you being here like this?"

"They have to be delayed," I pointed out my voice almost casual. "The order wasn't a bad one at all. If one person can be sacrificed to buy just a few hours, that's a few hours that the refuges can use to board ships, to clear everyone out."

"Then why did you drug that noble girl?" it asked. It didn't have any condemnation in it. Derflinger was a weapon first and foremost. It thought as a sword and was used as a sword. I think there was a great deal of the intricacies of human behavior and feeling that it just couldn't understand. "If you could buy a few hours, than the two of you together could probably buy days."

I hummed softly, sitting up. The air was cold, the cold of an island thousands of feet up in the midst of winter, and my breath frosted in front of my face. I looked down on the approaching sea of bodies. The earth trembled a bit, shaking under the force of so many feet striking it nearly simultaneously. The army had begun to make its way across the floor of the valley. I waited patiently. I wanted as many of them in here as possible when I struck.

"An apology, I guess," I admitted finally.

"An apology? For what, partner?" the sword asked, confusion in its voice.

"For the trouble I had given that girl." I watched, my eyes reinforced as I analyzed the forces coming. They marched in units of five hundred, each block of troops a discrete entity. In each individual formation there was a banner. It was usually located in the back, maybe in the middle. In a land without combat radios, there needed to be an identifying trait that each formation would have so that the commanders could see the location of their troops. It made it easier for messengers carrying new orders to find the appropriate individual commander of each block so that new orders could be delivered more efficiently. Towards the rear and middle I could make out the chains of wagons carrying supplies that a force of that size needed in order to sustain itself.

"What do you mean trouble?"

"It's something I'd began to worry about, ever since I found out that she had been experiencing the dream cycle," I admitted. "I'd noticed that she'd been changing beforehand. I just thought that it was puberty, or her getting her confidence as she finally began to master her magic. But when I found out she'd been dreaming of my past, I had to wonder. Was it my fault?" I gave a small sigh.

"Oi, oi, partner," Derflinger spoke up, sounding concerned. "I'm just a sword, but even I could tell the girl admired you. What could be bad about that?"

"The problem is imitation is the sincerest form of flattery," I pointed out dryly. "If she kept it up, I wonder how much longer she could have remained being a girl. How many of my little mannerisms and habits had she already taken as her own? Just earlier, before we left, she had begun talking about saving people." I shook my head in regret. "Even that horrible ideal, she's begun to adopt."

"I don't think most people would consider saving horrible," the sword pointed out doubtfully.

"Well most people are idiots," I told it plainly. "I think that's the problem with Servants: how much do we warp our Masters, just by being near them?" How different would my life have been if I had never been involved in the Holy Grail War? Would I have been happy, living a peaceful life with big sis Fuji, spending happy times cooking and smiling with Sakura? How about Rin? What would she have been like if she never witnessed the things Archer had gone through? "We Servants, we twist the people around us just by being there. We don't do it on purpose. And it engenders no ill will from the Masters. I've never seen a Master unhappy with the changes they go through. But is it really better for them?" I shook my head slowly. "I think that if I can shoulder this by myself, if I can let Louise go back to being a girl again instead of a tool or a weapon, then this is fine."

"Then you're really okay with this suicide, partner?" the sword asked me, curious.

"It's not suicide," I corrected the blade. "It's dangerous, but the plan I have does have a chance of both succeeding and me getting out alive."

"Oh? And what do you think the chances are?" the sword asked me archly.

"One in fifty," my lip quirked up in a wry smile. "But it's still a chance."

"Heh," the sword chuckled at my semantics. "Well then, partner. What do I know? I'm just a sword. Pick me up and swing me at something," it commanded me.

"You'll get your chance soon enough. Just be patient, partner," I told it back.

It was time. They had advanced enough for me to begin.

Trace on.

"I am the bone of my sword," I chanted, closing my eyes in concentration. "Steel is my body, and fire is my blood. I have created over a thousand blades, whilst unaware of life nor being aware of death. Through it, I have withstood pain to create weapons." I began creating the blades I would need for my plan. There would be four of them, and each one was a powerful and intense weapon. The combined effort would take a heavy toll on my circuits and deplete my od significantly.

"You know," Derflinger spoke up conversationally. "I keep hearing you say that partner. What is it? Is it a spell?"

"Only if I complete the aria," I admit, finishing the first sword. It was a massive twisted and re-curved piece of cinder black steel: the sword of giants, Ragnorok, the blade which incinerates the earth. At nearly half again my height in length, it was a blade that dwarfed even that of Nine Lives. There was nearly no way I could wield it in a conventional sense. Just like with Hercules old weapon, I could only call it when its power would be useful, which was situational at best. I planted the enormous thing into the earth by its blade, and concentrated on the next three swords. Well, technically it was just one sword, but I planned on creating it three times. "I mostly use it as a mantra, something to help me concentrate when I'm about to do something strenuous."

"I didn't know you knew any spells, partner," the sword said, sounding surprised. "Is it a powerful one? Why don't you use it here instead?" it asked, sounding curious.

I grunted, finishing the first of the three remaining blades. It was Caladbolg II. I would need the swords destructive power for what I had planned. "Well," I admit, answering Derflinger's question as I planted my first missile into the earth like I had Ragnorok, "it could work, I suppose. But the spell is immobile and its range is a little too limited for this situation. Sure, I could probably kill oh, four or five thousand, but in the end I'd be nearly completely drained of od. The rest of the army could just wait outside my range till I had to release it, kill me when I'm weakened and then march on and still have enough numbers to wipe out the rest." I finished the second Caladbolg II and began to work on the third.

"Ah well. If it's only four or five thousand than it probably wasn't worth it in the first place," Derflinger responded, sounding disappointed that he wouldn't get to see me do something more impressive. "One of these days you'll have to show me it." I finished the last sword.

"Sounds like a plan," I answered him back easily. The first few regiments of the enemy had begun to draw even with my position on the hill above them. It was time.

"For what it's worth, partner," Derflinger said quietly as I picked up Ragnorok once more, barely able to handle its massive weight and size even with my reinforcing and Gandalfr abilities. "It's been a pleasure to fight with you."

"Tch," I tsked. "Save the mush stuff, Derf. You should just focus on staying sharp."

"Aye aye, partner," it cried jovially. There was no more time for words. Now was the time for action.

Holding the massive blade, wielded by the fire giants during the Age of Gods during the final battle of the Norse deities, I brought it down to strike the earth, screaming as I did so. "RAGNOROK!" It was not a name. It was a command. A command the blade joyfully obeyed.

There are three types of blades that I tend to collect. The first are the mundane. They are simple weapons crafted by man, nothing more than steel that had been tempered and forged into a shape that can be used to slay. The second and third are magical weapons, enchanted blades like Derflinger and conceptual weapons like noble phantasms. I've come to categorize these in two types. The first are those whose powers are simple existent. Like Hrunting, the blade I wielded so long ago against Fouquet's golem: its power was simple, to cut all but magic without regard. Or like Derflinger for that matter, whose very presence was enough to drink the magecraft around it. The others type of blades were those that needed more than just their existence. They had awesome capabilities, but those capabilities required prana to activate, requiring that I feed them my od in order to produce their effects.

Ragnorok was of the kind that needed to be activated. It drank deeply from me, my magic circuits humming as they pumped the od it needed in order to awaken, draining me even further than creating the blade itself had. And when it struck the earth, the earth burned. Starting with a spark where the blade touched a single intense flame, so hot it burned white began, and then began to spread. Roaring forward in an expanding cone of fire the ground erupted in a blazing inferno: right into the regiments that were drawing abreast of me.

Their screams echoed through the night and chaos descended on the advancing army.

I had waited till I could get the maximum number of casualties with my attack, but the truth was that I didn't particularly care how many I killed. The important part was that now the quickest way through the pass was blocked by a wall of fire. I was happy to note that the initial few companies I had slaughtered were mostly orcs. It meant that they were up front to absorb any ambushes or attacks and protect the humans from traps and surprises. It also meant that they would be the first to encounter any refuges, and it warmed me even more than the flames beside me to know that once more that the wretched abominations wouldn't be adding any little skulls to their necklaces.

As the shock from the sudden attack echoed through the ranks, I discarded the blade, letting its traced form dissolve. It would simply be too much of my reserves to use it again. Instead, I traced a bow, and picked up the first of my missiles. Once more my circuits hummed as I charged the blade that I was aiming, making it fragile, making it dangerous, making it broken. I unleashed it at my chosen target.

It screamed through the air, and when it struck it exploded, shredding three of the supply wagons at the end as it did so, before detonating with a concusive force that it knocked over two more, and all the companies of troops beside them. The second missile was aimed more towards the center of the train, and the third on the opposite end. Flames crackled merrily from where stored gunpowder had been erupted, catching more of the wagons on fire.

Silently I took Derflinger back into my hand and began to walk down the mountain, keeping the wall of flames behind me. The light of it would silhouette me, but the brightness of the flame would interfere with anyone attempting to target me. The Albion forces now had flame to the front of them, behind them, and in their midst. This would definitely slow them down a bit, but not enough in my opinion. The fires summoned by Ragnorok were hot, and would burn for seven days and seven nights without end, but in the end they were localized. It would take little more than a small detour for them to simply walk around it. Plus a good number of the army were mages, so they could just as easily fly over it with wind, or use earth to make bridges over it. It would be funny to see water mages attempt to put it out. That just wasn't going to happen. The loss of the supplies would probably slow them down even less. I had managed to destroy perhaps sixteen wagons, but there were dozens more behind those. Add on the fact that they had an uninterrupted supply line behind them, and the most I had accomplished there was making them a little hungry while they caught up and slaughtered the refugees.

No, the point of this attack was something else. With my reinforced eyes I tracked the movements of the messengers that were dispatched from the individual units. I took note of where they were sent from within the units, confirming my hypothesis that those in charge were usually stationed next to the banners. They were further distinguished by their helmets and insignias. It was important that they be recognizable so that the rank and file would know that they had to listen to them when they started belting out orders. Messengers began congregating at specific units, which I assumed had the next higher rank up from company commander, most likely battalion commanders.

It was while I was watching where those battalion commanders were sending their men for orders, and identifying the individual whom I was certain was the general of the enemy forces, that I was finally noticed.

When the first swarm of arrows was launched, I stopped walking. With the insane speed of the power of Gandalfr combined with my own reinforcement, my body blurred away. By the time the arrows hit where I was standing I was already carving my way through my first company.

Moving my way through, Derflinger cutting left and right of me in a silver blur, I made sure to aim my strikes appropriately. I didn't want to kill those I cut by accident. No, a dead soldier could be left aside in the cold and come back to later for burial. I didn't want to limit their numbers, I wanted to limit their mobility. Instead, I aimed my sword at the limbs of the soldiers as I passed. I didn't want corpses; I wanted maimed and injured troops, screaming for help, absorbing medical supplies, spreading fear and unrest. I could aim at the torsos, but a skilled water mage could heal most of the not instantly fatal attacks pretty quickly. Instead, I aimed at arms and legs. Even if their wounds were closed afterwards, they'd still be missing a very important piece. A soldier with one arm, or no hand, or even only six fingers left was one that would absorb supplies and unnerve the enemy. I wanted them to be seen and to have those who see them look away in shame, to drag their feet as they moved forward in an effort to try and save themselves from having the same fate.

In other words, it was time for me to channel my inner anti-hero. I had to be vicious, vicious enough to crush the will to fight from anyone who had witnessed me, and to have that same doubt spread long after I was gone. For the first time in my life I found myself wondering 'What would Gilgamesh do?' in a way that wasn't derogatory.

The first company I carved my way through had no idea what was happening. All they knew was that from what appeared to have come right out of the flames was a razor wind of steel that was carving them to pieces and moving so fast they could barely register it. I didn't linger or dart from side to side; instead I sliced my way through till I found the commander, only just beginning to recover his awareness enough to notice my approach.

That one I did kill, slipping Derflinger into the crack between his shoulder pad and his helmet, sliding it through his neck, and leaving his head to tumble through the air before it landed with a 'clang' that was lost in the sound of screams. I didn't want anyone in charge of the mess I left behind. I wanted them all milling about in confusion. I wanted order to take a while to be recovered.

The moment I killed the first one, I changed direction, still cutting all in my path, and headed for the next company, this one closer to the regiment that housed a battalion commander.

This was the essence of my strategy: move fast, leave confusion behind me, cut off their commanders' heads, and then disappear. Zigzagging my way through the enemy until I finally cut my way all the way through in one pass, and then I would disappear. The city of Saxe-Gotha had plenty of dark alleys and streets for me to hide in. Even if I couldn't make it there, there were thick woods in these hills. I could move faster at night than they, and I would vanish like a ghost in the mist. After that, it was just a matter of me finding a way off this island, but there were always unlawful places where a person could find a ride if they were willing to risk it. Smugglers and pirates that I could track down and bribe or threaten my way on to their ships until I could make my way back to Tristain proper.

I finished making my way through the second company of troops as I reviewed my plan in my head one last time. It was insane, yes. Dangerous, yes. But not impossible. And more than that, it would work. By the time they finished straightening out the mess I was delivering to them, than the last ship with the last Tristainian or Germanian on it would be long gone.

When I broke from the second company, trailing severed hands and fingers and legs and one head behind me, the enemy had finally managed to collect itself to begin a hasty counterattack. The moment I had broken free of the soldiers the units surrounding me, the one I had selected as my next target especially, began unleashing arrows at me. From above, the roar of dragons echoed through the night as the mages riding them began to cast spells down on me as well.

Most of the attacks missed, and by a wide margin. I was just moving too fast, darting from side to side as I did so now, for them to have any chance of aiming at me precisely. The danger came from the ones who weren't even trying to aim; the ones firing wildly in my general area, the ones who might hit me purely by accident; those and the dragons themselves. An arrow came from my side, striking against my arm, and glancing off. I had reinforced my clothing to the absolute limit, and it now reacted as though it were chain mail, deflecting off the steel arrowheads and reducing most of the damage they did to little more than a scratch and a small bit of kinetic energy. From above, one of the mages had managed to miscast a lightning bolt enough that it was close enough to threaten me. Derflinger swung through the air, and drank deeply of the magic, greedily soaking it into itself.

But when one of the dragons launched a ball of fire for me, there was little I could do except pour on the speed and try to get clear before it scorched me. And then I was safe, once more in the midst of their allied troops, where I had nothing to worry about beside swords, lances, and halberds.

This was the other most crucial part of my plan. I needed to spend as much time as I could actually in combat, and not covering the distance between units. In the companies, the dragon knights had to hold back for fear of hitting their own allies. There, surrounded by enemies who could not match the speed and strength I had, and whose skills paled before the combination of my own and the frightening instincts imparted to me by my class, I was at my safest.

The dragon knights, and the other fliers like griffins and manticores, those were all mages, not mercenaries or commoners. They could hover above me, blasting the ground around me with deadly magic in an effort that would eventually overcome my defenses, and there was nothing I could do about them. I had drained myself far too much with the four swords I had made earlier. Breaking a phantasm was no simple thing; the arcane artifacts had been made to channel prana and could store obscene amounts of it. Not to mention Ragnorok itself was doubly a burden on my reserves; just crafting something that big and potentially powerful was a chunk that I just wasn't comfortable using often. But to use its ability, to pump enough od into it to activate scorch the earth for a week? As I am now, I could make maybe two or three more blades, or I could save the rest and use it to keep myself alive through reinforcement.

And even if my circuits were fully charged, I could have made perhaps sixty swords. This wasn't the invasion of field of Tarbes, where their forces were limited by how many of the enormous beasts they could fit on a ship. This was their homeland, right next to their fully stocked warders and large castles. There were hundreds of the knights up there.

I finished my third unit, and moved to the fourth. There had beeen six units between me and my final target, the general of this force. He had been stationed well back, near the supply wagons where he would be safe, and central enough that he could receive orders from his front and flanks in a timely fashion. But behind him were nothing but a few guards for the supplies and open woods and safe hiding places. More limbs flew in my wake, and a head joined them quickly. This one had been a battalion commander, meaning that the chain of command for even more units than I have visited had been lost once more. This would set them back by days at this point. If the option was open for me to retreat, I'd do so. I might have even consider surrendering and escaping later, but with all the maimed soldiers who would no doubt want some vengeance for their disfigurements behind me, well, that wasn't an option.

Before I made it to safety, six more arrows struck me, I was nearly not fast enough to block the two lightning bolts and a blade of wind that were launched nearly simultaneously, and I had to grit my teeth and force my way through the edges of a dragons breath attack.

They were beginning to anticipate my movements and correct for my speed.

Between the fourth and the fifth companies, the numbers of arrows and dragon breath attacks had doubled, though the number of spells remained about the same. My clothes, reinforced as they were, were beginning to fail to repel the attacks completely. I was bleeding now, and though I had resisted catching fire so far, I was still burnt. My left leg and arm blistered from the heat. It slowed me down.

Between the fifth and the sixth the number of all the attacks reaching me had doubled. I was reaching the edge of my magic, my circuits dangerously low. When I finally closed with the sixth, I was relying solely on Gandalfr to keep me moving fast enough to survive this. Even then, I found myself having to parry before I struck. The commander of this unit even managed to launch lightning at me, before I killed him. I wasn't able to dodge it completely, and it scorched the flesh of my chest, burning a line across my ribs through my shirt.

Just keep going. One more target, and then you can escape, I told myself, my vision beginning to blur. Just one more and then you can disappear.

I broke free from the sixth unit. Above me the sky fluttered with dragons, the knights on top of them already chanting their spells. To my left and right the companies surrounding me had their arrows drawn and ready to fire. In front of me was the enemy general, mounted on a fierce looking manticore. And beyond that last target was the woods, and escape.

To speak in battle is a sin. Soundlessly, I charged.

*Scene Break*

Louise pulled free from sleep like a dinosaur of old managing to escape from a tar pit. She yawned widely, unable to stop a little 'funya' from escaping as she did so. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to piece together where she was.

"So you're awake, Louise?" a voice asked from her side. Glancing over, she saw the cloaked form of Guiche as he leaned against the rail of the ship, his back to her. His voice sounded strange, with a nasal quality she couldn't quite identify.

Wait, Louise thought to herself. Rail of the ship?

Her eyes widened as it all came back to her. There had been orders, to cover the retreat! Than Shirou had prepared tea, and everything had begun to go hazy. Something about a sleeping potion…

"He drugged me!" Louise shrieked in outrage, launching to her feet. Her eyes began twitching and she raised her wand in a trembling fist. "That sneaky Servant drugged me!" She began to fume, puffing her cheeks out in anger. When she got her hands on that impudent, smug, cynical bastard….

"Louise!" a girlish voice shrieked out in joy, and the pink haired noble only had a moment to prepare herself before she was ambushed in a hug by a dark haired maid. "You're safe! I'm so glad!" Siesta was nearly weeping with happiness as she crushed Louise to her chest. Behind her, Jessica and Scarron also both appeared with relief on their faces as well. "I was so worried about you," the dark haired girl cried, her relief at the safety of her noble friend plain on her face.

"Yes, I'm fine," Louise managed to grit out, happy as well that her friend had made it. Despite her anger at her Servant's sneakiness the pink haired girl really was relieved. Gathered here on the ship was everyone she cared about that had been at risk. How Shirou had managed to get them passage all together on one of the earlier ships she'd ask him later. After she finished trying to blow him up. "But what about the others? How many are still left at the port? How soon till the army gets here?" Even if she was safe, she still had a duty to take care of. What was all this about saving people if her Servant was willing to let hundreds die just to make sure the ones he knew were fine?

"This is the last ship, Louise," Guiche spoke again. The weird nasal quality of his voice irritated her for some reason. She knew it wasn't the blond fop's fault, but her anger at Shirou was starting to leak out. Just where was the Servant of his.

"What?" Louise asked, Guiche's proclamation surprising her. Thoughts ran through her head. So Shirou hadn't just left everyone behind. He'd made sure that everyone was safe before seeing to the two of them. That meant, and here Louise sagged in relief, that their sacrifice hadn't been needed. Despite the fact that she had been willing, that she had been prepared, the gratitude at being able to live nearly sent Louise back to her knees as they suddenly went weak.

Still, that didn't mean that she wasn't going to get him back for this. She'd find some way. It would probably involve Siesta, Jessica, Kirche, and maybe Tabitha as well, if she could fit her into it, and a couple of rumors that would make even her favorite books seem like a nunnery tale, but she'd get him back for this.

"Where is he?" Louise asked, her cheeks still puffed up in anger. She looked around, but had no doubt that Shirou was hiding somewhere so that she would have a chance to calm down before he poked his head out. Louise decided that some way, somehow, she would find a way of using her knitting in her vengeance. There had to be a use for her strange quirk somehow.

"You don't know?" Siesta asked, looking worried. The maid 'eeped' when Louise leveled a glare at her too.

"Someone had to provide him with a sleeping potion and directions on how to use it," the pink haired noble gritted out, her wand once more shaking in her fist.

Siesta whimpered and hunched over, trying to make a smaller target. "I regret nothing!" she cried, preparing herself.

They were both interrupted when Guiche of all people provided them with an answer that froze them both in their tracks. "The honorable Sir Emiya has remained behind to see to the impediment of the enemies advance," he said softly, still leaning on the railing and watching as the port disappeared into the clouds.

Louise felt something in her crack as she froze. "What?" she said bluntly. Siesta had turned white as a sheet.

"After trusting your sleeping self and a pair of horses to me, he remained behind in order to plan an ambush that would suitably delay the enemies during our retreat," Guiche confirmed his earlier statement.

No. Louise shook her head rapidly as Siesta sank to her knees. No, he wouldn't do something like that. He'd never… Oh, who was she kidding? That was precisely the kind of thing he would do!

"No," Siesta whispered, tears beginning to form. "He was supposed to save both of you…"

"And you didn't try to stop him? Or go with him? Or anything!" Louise shrieked at Guiche, a new target for her ire rapidly developing in priority.

When the blond turned around she found that wrath derailed. His left eye was a giant blackened bruise, and his nose had been broken. It was the source of the strange nasal twinge he had been speaking with. "I tried both," he admitted softly. "But Sir Emiya was most insistent that I complete the task he presented me."

Louise began to shake. It only lasted for a few moments before she mastered herself. Striding forward with purpose in her steps she took a place next to Guiche at the railing, crossed her arms, and stood resolute.

"Louise," Scarron asked, his voice deliberately soothing. "What are you planning on doing?" He looked like he was ready to grab her in the way he manhandled rowdy customers if she made another move closer to the railing.

"Waiting," she told him flatly, not looking back. "Shirou isn't some amateur. He wouldn't have gone in without a plan. He must have some escape route ready," she insisted, and despite the doubt in their hearts, Guiche and Siesta found themselves agreeing. He could be reckless, but there was no doubt in their heads that Shirou was the kind of veteran at this kind of thing that put anything the three of them could think of to shame.

So the three stood watch. They stayed up together on the cold deck of the airship wondering how Shirou would show up. Maybe he'd find a wild dragon and charm it like he did so many other reptiles. Maybe he'd hijack a pirate ship and force them to reform and bring him. Guiche voiced his doubt at that one, seeing Shirou's admitted distaste for pirates. Maybe he'd make some other relic like the Dragon's Raiment, and use it to fly himself back on his own?

Siesta was the first to fall asleep. The girl was exhausted, and slept beside the other two as they remained on watch. Guiche took the second chance to sleep after the maid woke up. He took the opportunity to find a water mage to lower the swelling in his eye and to set his nose.

Finally, it was Louise's turn to rest.

That night, Louise dreamed that she had cat ears and a tailt. Cattleya was there too, though she was attired as a puppy. Eleanor was pouting, wrapped in the trappings of a fox. All three of them were getting a lecture from their mother, who had a pair of cute pink bunny ears and a bushy white tail while she did so.

She dreamed of other things. Cute things, strange things, random things.

But none of those things were swords or battle.

She was awoken by Guiche and Siesta who had grown worried about her when they realized she had been crying in her sleep.

Somewhere deep inside of her, in a place she refused to recognize, Louise knew that her Servant had found his hill of swords.

*Scene Break*

Through a green forest, a man walked. He didn't know how he got there. He didn't know where he was. As he walked, the sunlight dappling the soft earth as it passed through the leaves above him, he found himself rolling his shoulders. They felt light, lighter than they had in a time so long ago that he could barely remember. It was as though something that had been building there, unnoticeably increasing bit by bit till it weighed him down without him ever realizing it, had been removed.

And as he walked, he came across a break in the trees, so small, that he almost missed it as he stared about him in wonder at the scenery. Beyond the gap, he saw a field, vast and green. It was wider, and more beautiful than anything he could put into words.

And the thing which made it so beautiful was the woman that was waiting for him upon it. She was soft, and feminine, her hair blond and warm as the sun as the gentle breeze played it around her childlike face, flowing in front of her green eyes. Her dress was long and soft looking, adorned with lace and ribbon, a blue so pale it blended in with both the clouds and the sky upon which it was silhouetted.

Across the distance, their eyes met. She smiled at him, her hand coming to rest gently on her breast above her heart as she did so, and the warmth of her smile warmed something deep inside of him, something he hadn't noticed had been growing colder and colder the same as his shoulders had been growing heavier and heavier.

He smiled back.

But despite their eyes meeting, there was still a distance between them. When he took a step to try and close it, the gap being blocked by the trees of the forest that still surrounded him, he found that the vision would not return, that the trees that surrounded him were still thick. Every step he took, no matter which direction they were, only served to draw him back deeper into the forest.

Despite the growing shadows around him, and the returning weight on his shoulder, his heart remained warmed. Even if it was only a glimpse, it was enough.

She was still waiting for him.

And he was still searching for her.

*Scene Break*

My body ached. It was the first thing I could recognize as my mind began its long and painful journey back to consciousness; the soreness of muscles that had been pushed too far, the sharp lines of pain from wounds that seemed to encompass my entire body, and the hot ache of fire still covering my left side. My head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, and then beaten with a sledgehammer.

"Ah," a soft voice beside me said in surprise. I had tried to move, and found that it was probably a better idea not to do that again. "You're awake," the voice, a quiet girly voice, noted.

Awake? Was I asleep? The cotton began to clear, and I began trying to remember the last thing I was doing….

It struck me. Images, sounds, memories; they came rushing back to me. The battle, my falling, the clearing in the trees I had found myself in…

No.

"You're very lucky that I found you," the voice assured me, sounding worried. "You were very close to death when I did."

No. No. No. No. No.

"Even while I was treating you, I wasn't certain you'd pull through," the voice continued. "You very nearly didn't."

No. NO NO NONONONONO!

"You should rest," the voice told me. It still sounded worried, but also relieved that I was apparently recovering. "You still have a lot of time before you're fully healed."

I managed to crack my right eye open. Though my vision was fuzzy, I was able to see the one who was speaking. She was a kind looking girl, very young. She had blond hair, and blue eyes, and two of the longest ears I had ever born witness to. She appeared to be a gentle soul, the kind who would take in a near death stranger, sword still clutched in his hand, and nurse them back to health with no thought to her own safety.

And in that moment, I had never hated anything as fiercely as I did her.