Chapter Twenty-Three
Nightmares Within Bliss
"Do you have any last words?"
He looked upon the crowd of onlookers, apparently people had come all across the world to bear witness to this event. In the front of the crowd he saw aquamarine eyes looking up at him framed by raven hair. Small hands were resting over a slightly rounded belly as the one person who had never faltered to him watched. She was clad in red, it was her signature color after all and the one awarded to her by the Association.
Her aquamarine eyes were gleaming with unshed tears, but he knew her well enough that she would not cry in front of him. He mouthed to her, "Good bye, Tohsaka." Then he flashed her a smile that was returned with a brittle one from his friend. She had tried to save him, revoke the sentence placed upon his head with every ounce of power she had, but in the end it had been for naught.
He had admitted to every crime that he had been convicted of. He had stood before the judge, looked him in the eye, and fully confessed his guilt. Issei had been right to turn him in; after all he had become a machine in his quest to uphold his ideal. The monk could not stand to see the blood that soaked his best friend's hands more and more, anymore than Shirou himself could.
He would atone and then go to serve after death. He would be able to accomplish his dream as a Guardian then. He would save everyone, and this final sacrifice of his execution would prevent a war. So he was actually happy.
Save for that look on Tohsaka's face was like a crippling blow every time he looked at her.
As the executioner lowered the rope around his neck, he found himself wondering if things would have been different if he had chosen differently. Maybe the child in her womb could have been his, instead of some nameless, faceless stranger's conceived by magic and science. We could have named her Ilya or Arturia, he thought before those two names gave him another pang.
Saber had been his first failure, and Ilya the gravest. When Ilya had been lost, he felt as if a large part of himself had died. He had nothing left to keep him home, so he would sacrifice himself for others. Not even Luvia could fill that hollow void inside of him, and she eventually had left his side.
He was alone.
He would always be alone.
Then the floor buckled under his feet and with a sharp crack he was no more.
Endless records stretched far beyond his comprehension. Records of pain, loss, and death. He was a Reaper, a Cleaner, the one who would erase an event and all those who had survived it for the greater whole. He was a puppet, nameless, faceless, and without feeling. His was an empty hell other than snuffing the suffering of others as vague memories of screams and tears haunted him when he had a sense of self.
He was losing himself more and more, his name forgotten to himself, the only thing that remained was a flash of true memory. A gleaming girl with hair like spun gold and eyes like emeralds haloed by silvery moonlight. It was something he clung to for a while, but then eventually it slipped from him. The memory never vanished, but its preciousness had lost all meaning to the Guardian.
Then he heard a voice. A voice he had long forgotten, but it filled him with elation when he heard it. It was a girl's voice, high pitched and demanding, and she was calling for him. She needed him to fight for her. So he accepted her call.
He had thoughts and feelings once again. His will was now his own again and reason had been restored. There was confusion at first, he was Archer was what he had been aware of at first. Then he remembered his name had been Emiya Shirou.
He had been an idiot.
He had wanted to save everyone.
And in the end he couldn't save the people he wanted to save the most.
So he would kill himself to prevent that from happening.
No matter what.
Tohsaka wouldn't stop him. Saber wouldn't stop him. Ilya wouldn't stop him.
Or so he thought.
He had forgotten that those three always seemed to prove him wrong when he least expected it. So he had found himself in a whole new hell. Over and over again, a repeating loop with more and more records. Had he done this once before? Was this his first time or the millionth? There was no way he could tell, other than the fact that apparently Servants could feel déjà vu as well.
Ilya smiled, spinning ever so slightly, her white dress floating around her. She said, "Maybe you can save the first person you failed." Then she was gone in a flash of golden white, leaving him alone once more.
Archer jolted up right one arm outstretched with Kansho already in his grasp, while the other was pilled to his side. Sweat made his clothing stick damply to his skin, his heart was racing, and he was breathing hard. He felt something rustle beside him and twisted to see bleary green eyes look up at him.
Saber sat up instantly as he released Kansho into nothing. "Archer?" she asked.
He ran a hand through his damp hair and said, "I'm sorry." His voice was harsh even to his own ears.
Saber rested her hand on his arm and said, "You were having a nightmare."
"It's been a while," he said as he looked down at his hands before looking at her. Considering what had happened earlier tonight, he reasoned he should have woken to something else other than Ilya going off to die after witnessing his own execution again and his own idiotically desperate plan fail again and again. However, his mind taunted him with how fragile he actually was and instead of waking up painfully aroused, he woke up ready to kill something.
Now that's great, Emiya, he thought as he began to move from the bed.
Small hands wrapped around his waist, halting his movements. His breath was drawn from his body as he felt her cheek press against his hot back. There was no pain from her tight grasp, and if anything he hadn't felt this wonderful in a long time. Every ounce of him felt rejuvenated and whole again, the thousands of tiny aches and pains of strained muscles that he had gotten use to with this second life were completely gone. He gasped when she gave him a tiny squeeze and found his hands resting over hers.
"You have had these before," she said before nuzzling his back.
He nodded as he eased back into the bed, still upright because the feel of Saber nestled into his back seemed so very right. He said, "It's been a while since I've had one. I didn't mean to scare you."
"You did not give me any cause of alarm other than for yourself," she said before letting him go. He twisted to look at her and she was on her knees, putting her closer to his eyelevel. She reached out to stroke his hair and said, "I do wish to help you Archer."
He leaned to her touch, sighed, and said, "I know. I don't know how to begin though."
"You must have seen terrible things in your tenure as a Guardian," she said with a shake of her head.
After he laid back down, he said, "The bitch of it is that I don't remember it. I get records that I can read that are in great detail, but that makes it worse. I mean, if I could remember it . . . It might be better. Instead I get these heavy tomes about me killing more people than cancer. Disasters and wars, hundreds of thousands of people, maybe even millions. All of that blood staining my hands and I can't even remember one damned minute of it."
Archer waited for her revulsion, but instead Saber wrapped her slight arms around him again. He stared into her emerald eyes and she said, "You once told me that I cannot deny my past or forget it, but I should try to forge my own future. You keep that guilt and let those memories haunt you because you will not take any solace for yourself."
"I sort of don't know how," he whispered with a shake of his head.
Saber smiled and said, "Neither do I, but yet we're striving through this together. And there is an understanding between us that no one else can comprehend. At least remember this, you are not alone. As you promised to me, I will promise to you."
"Thank you, Saber," he said before pressing a kiss to her forehead. Pink tinted her cheeks but she smiled.
There was a pause before she said, "I think for this to work between us, we need to work together. You cannot simply take all of the burdens upon yourself, Archer. Nor can I wallow in my own self-pity anymore."
Archer stared into her eyes and said, "You're right, Saber."
"Good, now you have my oath. I will fight beside your side. I swear to be your sword when you do not wish or cannot take arms. I promise to make you smile when no one else can," she said in a clear, even voice, sounding like the Saber that had been his Servant when she proclaimed him her Master so long ago.
His chest tightened as he pulled her into his arms, burrowing his face into her hair. She held him in return as he whispered to her, "Thank you, Arturia Pendragon."
"Someday I will call you by your True Name, Archer," she said as she stroked his hair.
As he held her, Archer realized he both dreaded and longed for that day.
Saber watched Archer's chest as it rose and fell, his breathing heavy with a slight whistle to it as he slept. It wasn't quite a snore, but she found the sound endearing. She would not sleep until there was no trace of the nightmares that had just plagued him. Nightmares that had obviously plagued him before.
She had gotten the occasional nightmare herself, from her actions when Sakura had corrupted her, or having to chose between what her country had thought was right or the value of her best friends, and then of course there was Mordred. All of these had haunted her sleep at some point in time, but not to the point where she had woke up reaching for a sword.
Where did he even get that sword, and where had it gone? Saber mused as she reached up to stroke his soft, white hair. A tiny hint of a smile played across his lips at the caress and she ran her fingers through the snowy locks again. His head tilted to her hand and she found her cheeks warming at the sight.
He seems starved for contact, she thought. She shivered as she remembered the obvious delight he took in pleasuring her earlier that night. It had been something he had clearly wanted to do, and in typical Archer fashion, he wanted nothing in return. Saber realized it was something she would have to work on, just as he told her that she needed to do things for herself, he needed to do the same as well.
Besides, to see those gray eyes dark with need . . . Saber shook her head at the shocking thought. However the thought of bringing Archer the same sort of rapture he had for her and watching him as she did was a delicious one. He had been right that she was inexperienced. After all, it would not be odd to find out if he had a lover in his life or perhaps a score of lovers. Most women would have delighted to have a man like him. Gruff, protective, kind, considerate, and a master in the kitchen.
He could have easily bedded Rider or even Rin, but he chose a solitary existence. Yet he wants this with me. So he is not a man who loves idly, she thought. His actions speak louder than his barbed words do. He is a man filled with as many regrets as I, or perhaps more. Yet he fights. I will not insult him further.
She curled against him again, her head pillowed on one broad shoulder. She was not a fool to think she knew exactly what to do. If anything, she had a feeling she would be clumsy at everything that would come between them. However, she sworn that she was going to help him just as he sworn to help her.