Welcome to another chapter in which definitely nothing bad will happen! Enjoy!
Chapter 14 – Crossroads
Jaime
The Fuyuki civic center was a massive building complex at the heart of Shinto, embodying many aspects of this world's most futuristic architecture. With that being copious amounts of glass, steel and concrete. The complex covered a huge area and contained next to the city hall and municipal administration a spacious underground car park and a diverse array of event rooms, including a whole concert hall. It certainly was not the Hightower or the Eyrie, but still appeared to be a stupendous display of vanity. And if his mind had been free to do so as he paced through its halls, Jaime Lannister would have wished for a more defensible place than this thing with its multitude of entrances, corridors and wide open rooms. Not to mention its position in Fuyuki.
It doesn't feel right to have the battle take place in the middle of a bustling town.
Jaime grimly thought of Kiritsugu's explanation this morning. The Mage Killer had said that he would have preferred a different place as well, but with the three other leyline intersections having been compromised, it was the only place remaining that wasn't under surveillance of the authorities.
So we do it just where the authorities reside.
Fate oddly played into their hands though. Construction wasn't quite finished and therefore it was left uninhabited. Even if it were not, the fallout of what they had caused in the last weeks had caused festivities to be postponed for the time being. So they had all the time in the world to make themselves at home here. Well, if not for the time limit forced upon them not just by Jaime's condition but by Lady Irisviel's as well.
It had been a strange morning. Jaime himself was the opposite of being out of the woods, but the human body is a strange thing when it comes to dealing with pain. As long as the agony doesn't bring you down to your knees, you start to numb to it given enough time. The poison and its effects were still there. A constant, ever increasing reminder of his imminent demise. And yet even now it was never as overwhelming as it had been after his fight with Gregor when his exhaustion seemed to have amplified it and struck him down. He noticed as long as he was able to stand, he could swallow the pain and the fever and fight on and so he did just that. He still secretly suspected that if he was to lie down again he would never be able to come back from his slumber though.
As he was gaining more confidence in being able to handle his condition (as opposed to just claiming to be), Jaime felt quite guilty the moment he found that Irisviel awoke to find herself bedridden and deteriorating ever more quickly. This morning he and Kiritsugu stood by in stunned silence as she was giving a cold and resigned account of how she wasn't able to move any muscle anymore, not even being able to heave herself upright from the bed. Her voice was strained and barely a whisper. Kiritsugu then sent Jaime out to scout the civic center while he was carefully nursing her.
"You think they will come to us if we set up camp there?", Jaime remembered himself asking. "It looks to me like it would be more practical to just wait for me to fall over."
"No, not anymore", Kiritsugu stated grimly, looking down at his wife. "Our enemies know just as well as we do that the ritual is in its last stages. The Grail will manifest soon. And even an incomplete Grail can be used for a wish, though with limitations. They can't risk that we in our weakened state decide to play it safe and claim it prematurely."
Jaime also looked at Irisviel as her husband explained this so matter-of-factly. The Grail would manifest soon. The words were simple, but they carried the weight of her death. Her eyes reminded Jaime more of an old man's in his dying bed now. That mixture of pain, fear, anxiety and fatalism. Hers were the eyes of someone who knew that her life's breath was slipping out of her and was only left to wait for the fire to quietly extinguish. It broke Jaime's heart watching her like this. All his life he tackled problems head on, usually with his sword arm and then with his guile when he was robbed of the former. But this was different. Jaime felt helpless like a little kid that lost its way stumbling through the cavernous bowels of Casterly Rock, uncertain whether he would ever be able to see the light again. Grinding his teeth, he had bowed and taken his leave.
Jaime didn't take the car, but instead the motorcycle that Kiritsugu had acquired for him back when he realized that now that they had to travel all three together, the car with only its two seats became impractical. Under normal circumstances Jaime would have marvelled at his Grail-given ability to operate this technological chariot, but with the hot sweat still running from his brow he pretty much only went through the motions, hoping not to slip up. After scouting the building complex and confirming that it had indeed been empty, he called his summoner and his wife over. Another wave of dread washed over him when he watched the silver Mercedes coming down into the car park. Kiritsugu was sitting stonefaced at the wheel while Irisviel was rocking lifelessly around next to him, a pale spectre more corpse than person.
There was a bit of tension when Jaime offered to carry her inside, but he relented when Kiritsugu insisted on doing it himself. He still carried the luggage and escorted them as their shadow, as befitting a knight of the Kingsguard. Though he couldn't help but steal uneasy glances at her. She was truly looking more like a tiny broken doll in his arms as she was drifting in and out of consciousness. Of course there was still the issue of where to put her to rest. The civic center wasn't really intended for someone to spend the night in. Kiritsugu soon figured that a break room behind the stage of the concert hall might be the most practical place to put her. As Irisviel was watching uneasily from a chair, Jaime went to fetch a table from the reception area and Kiritsugu unwrapped several stacks of blankets. When they put her down it looked to him disturbingly like a wake, but Jaime held his tongue. He also noted that Kiritsugu didn't draw a magic circle either like he did in the hotel room and the old Japanese mansion before it. Was it not worth the effort anymore? Jaime knew nothing of these matters and yet that detail only heightened his dread.
After she had settled down, Kiritsugu fetched several boxes with surveillance cameras from their luggage and divided them up so that Jaime could install half of them at designated places. Ever dutiful he did just that, eager to quickly return to Lady Irisviel's side. Of course, while the Grail equipped him with general knowledge and skills to survive in this strange world, this installation business may have been a bit too specific and in his befuddled state he needed several attempts and the help of the instruction manual to set up the wireless connection with Kiritsugu's laptop. So when he was now returning to the break room, Kiritsugu had arrived long before him. Jaime found the door a crack open and was just about to push against it when he heard the voices inside.
"I'm sorry. I wanted to show you more of the outside world", he heard Kiritsugu's voice, heavy and on the verge of cracking.
Jaime stopped his hand resting against the door. He didn't intend to disturb their private moment.
"Don't be", he heard Irisviel's soft voice. "I never hoped I could spend my last days together with you like this. Even now I feel a warmth that I will forever cherish."
"Still…"
"No 'still'", she chided him lightly. "I am happy… To be able to love… To be loved… To have a husband and a daughter for nine whole years. You never needed to, but you still gave me everything… all the happiness in the world… that was never meant for me… If there is still any happiness left to experience… give it to Ilya… to our daughter… our beloved Ilya…"
A brief silence. She must have waited for a reaction that never came.
"You can bring her to this country one day… and show her everything I didn't have the chance to see… the cherry blossoms… the summer clouds…"
"Understood", Kiritsugu replied, half choking on the words.
"Promise me, my love… that she won't suffer the same fate I will. Promise me, my love… that she will have a future..."
Jaime swallowed. No matter the world, a promise to a dying person carried an immense weight. The Gods would surely punish you for taking it lightly.
"I promise. I will make it happen. No matter what cost."
"Then… I'm glad… truly…"
The knight of the Kingsguard, still frozen in the motion of opening the door, suddenly found himself somewhere else entirely. In a dark and damp tower on Dragonstone, being rocked by a savage storm. The smell of salt, blood and smoke in the air. If he was being entirely honest, he never thought much about how she died when he was alive. Back then he was so absorbed by his own self-pity about how his greatest act became a curse upon his honor, he barely cared when he learned of how it happened. And yet it struck him now. He was not there.
If I hadn't stood idly by and instead slid his throat much earlier, then maybe she would have lived to see her daughter grow up.
The thought came with the bile taste of his present feelings. Ridding her of her husband wouldn't change anything, unfortunately. And again, not anymore. He had to keep playing this sick game to the bitter end to ensure that it was worth the sacrifice.
"There is only one thing left for me to give to you", Irisviel then said and immediately thereafter a blinding light was coming out through the crack.
Jaime's heart sunk into his bowels. Fearing it was already too late, he pushed the door open and stepped in. But fortunately, the thing that was being summoned out of her just was just the sheath of King Arthur. Jaime mentally chided himself as he drew a breath again.
I'm getting far too desensitized to this whole magic nonsense.
He watched Kiritsugu take the still glowing sheath from her as he slowly walked closer.
"I had channelled as much energy into Avalon as I could... while I was tapping into the leyline… Avalon… I hope you won't need to rely on it… it has just enough for one short burst… but… it will be yours for the final battle…"
The Mage Killer was looking at it with his usual grim expression, not even acknowledging Jaime's return. It was Irisviel who glanced up at him as he drew closer to the padded table.
"Ah, Ser Jaime… My white knight is back…"
"Your Grace", he opted for an awkward nod instead of a bow.
"I must apologize… you always seem so in pain when looking at me…"
Jaime was taken aback. Apologizing? He was failing her and yet she apologized to him? This was so twisted a joke he had to suppress his urge to give a dark laugh.
"No apologies needed, your Grace", he replied instead. "It is just that… men sometimes foolishly burden themselves with the pain of others hoping that if they feel enough misery, it would lighten the load of the person they sympathize with. Even though it never works."
He didn't dare glance at Kiritsugu when he said this, though still imagined a wave of hostility at the edge of his vision. Not daring to look away either, he met Irisviel's gaze head on as she studied him. She seemed so much more fragile and helpless now than she did just yesterday, but her red eyes were still clear and resolute.
"You never told me her name."
"My pardons?"
Jaime was taken aback by the sudden shift of topic and the first image flashing up in his mind was that of a certain horse-faced, painfully naive, dazzlingly bright knight. He wondered how Irisviel could possibly know of her.
"The story you deemed unfit for a maiden", the creases of a playful smile edged themselves around her lips. "Don't let me part wondering what you always saw when you looked at me."
"Aaaah…", Jaime let out in a drawn out sigh.
Now he had to glance at Kiritsugu. The sheath tucked under his armpit, he was back looking at his wife, his expression hard and unreadable. Jaime grimaced. The wishes of a dying person carried immense weight indeed. She had no idea in how tough of a spot she put him.
"Rhaella", he then heard himself saying. "Rhaella Targaryen was the name of the first queen I served."
Her eyes were still focused on him, clearly expecting to go on. Donning a bitter smile, Jaime complied.
"She had silver hair and pale skin, just like you do. A delicate stature and unusual eyes, though purple instead of red. She was kind and dutiful, but… with such a sadness to her. She would have never dared admit it, but she was always resenting her fate. I… I always wished there was more I could have done to protect her."
Irisviel's eyes were briefly averting their gaze.
"How…", she just whispered.
"How did she die?", he waited for nod that never came. "When King's Landing fell, she fled to Dragonstone. Whether from grief or injury, I don't know, but… she died giving birth to her daughter."
"Did the child live?"
Jaime swallowed, remembering the smell of sulphur and the cry of dragons. Fire and Blood.
"Yes, she did", he did not dare say any more.
"Then I imagine she was looking over her from the beyond, proud and content… I know I would… I know… I will…"
The following silence was suffocating. Part of Jaime was wishing he was back outside guarding the door, but he knew he could never live with the guilt afterwards. Unfortunately nothing could have prepared him what actually followed. Irisviel was turning her attention back to Kiritsugu.
"I… I don't really know how to put it… I… know I am asking much… but… I don't know how much longer I can endure…"
"Iri…", his reply was barely a whisper.
"It hurts, you know… It shouldn't hurt… I had cut off my ability to feel pain so long ago… and yet I can feel it… hurting on a much deeper level… I can feel it tucking at my soul… I can feel it tear my insides apart… I… I'm afraid…"
Jaime saw the jaw of his summoner moving, his features slightly going out of control. It was just a brief second though and the moment he had composed himself, he shot Jaime a glare that seemed outwardly icy, but still contained all the anger and despair that was in turmoil behind his eyes. The knight of the Kingsguard knew a dismissal when he saw it. He bowed and left for the door, feeling even more stiffly in his legs than when he arrived. This time he closed the door behind him, not eager for any further eavesdropping, though he still found himself not going far, just leaning with his shoulder against the opposing wall.
Again and again and again… helplessly standing outside, helplessly watching injustice.
He looked down at his right hand and disgust was welling up in him. He cursed it, wanted to cut it off, bite it off for all he cared. At the end of the day, he was once again being reduced to a sword arm and nothing more.
Irisviel…
And then he heard it. A single gunshot. It was probably just his body convulsing from the shock, but it seemed like the air around him rippled at the violence of it all. Then a cry. A single primal wail that went through marrow and bone. Kiritsugu's voice. Jaime had his whole array of misgivings about the man, so much so that he didn't think he was capable of making such a noise. Of feeling enough to make it. And yet he did. Jaime was listening intently to this cry of agony, wanting to rush in, but undecided about whether to hug him or punch him again. In the end he decided to do neither, grinding his teeth so hard Stannis would express his concern, punching the wall next to him so hard it left a sizeable crater. Jaime felt his cheeks becoming wet and warm and his legs giving out.
If I fall, I won't be able to get up again…
He fought against the fall and while not exactly succeeding, he found a compromise in going down to his knees. There he remained for what could be minutes or hours, he honestly couldn't tell. He was only ripped out of his mindless daze when the door opened again and Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer, stepped outside. And he was the Magus Killer again, that much was sure. His face seemed a bit puffed up, but otherwise pale and hard as ever. His unsmiling mouth and empty uncaring eyes were as detached from compassion as he had ever seen him. He wasn't even looking at him. Clad in his trenchcoat, with his laptop tucked under one arm and a black suitcase in the hand of the other, Kiritsugu seemed completely focused on the task at hand again. It was that moment Jaime realized that whatever made that cry just moments ago had died in that room.
Oberyn
A bright red light shot up into the darkness of the still young night, hovering up in the air like that ominous red comet he saw in the sky above King's Landing a life ago. Back then everybody had their own take on what it meant, with the predominant one being the herald of King Joffrey's coronation. A red comet. Lannister crimson. If he was more than a Baratheon in name only it would have been a golden one. Oberyn's take on this very mundane flare was rather more straightforward.
"It is a challenge. An invitation", he spoke to Sola-ui as she was uneasily squeezing his arm.
The first flare they had missed, but during dinner heard it mentioned at a neighbouring table. Now they were watching the third one from the roof of their hotel. They all lit up in the sky above the still in construction Fuyuki civic center.
"It is a trap. Let someone else spring it", she said stubbornly.
"Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that the Grail is calling me. My dear sister is calling me. It is time for the final showdown."
"I can't understand how you can take this so easily. If you loose, you die. If you win, you will also disappear. It is just…"
"Not fair?"
He held her chin up with his left, gazing down into her eyes. Her eyes that were so unlike most women in Westeros. Refined, headstrong, passionate… and yet sometimes so full of doubt and insecurity. It was a curious thing that fate had brought them together. At first he was taken aback when he noted the resentment she bore for his Master and how eagerly she put things into motion to take advantage of his loss of magic. And then how little his death was on her mind and her partial responsibility for it.
"I didn't want to sound selfish", she admitted, suddenly rather sheepishly.
"No, you don't want to. Which is a problem in other aspects."
To be sure, he genuinely enjoyed her company and of course also her desire for him. What man would not be flattered by this? But there is a fine line between infatuation and obsession and he feared that she was loosing herself in his arms. She frowned at his remark, but didn't dare to follow up on it.
"There is no way I can talk you out of this, can I?", she said instead.
He smiled, making an effort to pour all his warmth into it.
"No. This is how it has to be. I face the Kingslayer one final time. And of course the faceless assassin who will definitely also be there."
"Please don't underestimate them."
The Red Viper nodded both in agreement as well as in approval. It was good that she was thinking tactics.
"The Kingslayer is hanging by the faintest thread of life, the Assassin girl isn't suited for open combat. I am aware of the pitfalls of going into battle too sure of victory just because I am in the best position for it. Do not worry. I will deal with them with all appropriate caution. The Kingslayer is still one of if not the most formidable knight in the realm and the girl seems to have made short work of Caster if the news is any indication. Having her killed by her Master is just the kind of trickery the Faceless Men are infamous for. I cannot and will not underestimate either when I face them."
Truth be told, he was a little irritated when she learned that she got her first and with that the Mountain, but knowing that he had finally been dealt with gave him a feeling of satisfaction regardless. Not to mention that he and the Kingslayer technically also killed him once, so a part of him thought he already did his duty in that regard.
"When we face them you mean", Sola-ui suddely said.
Oberyn took a breath and drew away from her. He had feared she would say that, but he had more than enough time during their days together to contemplate this conversation. She seemed startled at him putting distance between them, even more so when he stepped in front of her and placed both hands on her shoulders.
"My dear Master, I will have to insist: I will face them! Alone! You have seen the underhanded methods of the Kingslayer's Master. I cannot bear the thought of endangering your life by having you accompany me into this challenge."
Again, as expected, she didn't like that one bit.
"And if Assassin goes after me while you are fighting Saber?"
He nodded gravely.
"That is indeed a problem. Which is why you must hurry."
Oberyn pulled out of his pocket a small piece of greenish paper and unfolded it in front of her eyes. It took several seconds for her to realize what he had prepared in advance.
"A train ticket?"
"For a bullet train to Tokyo that leaves in half an hour. If you still get attacked, feel free to use a command spell, but I doubt anyone expects a Master to leave today, especially while I accept the challenge."
Sola-ui folded her hands in front of her mouth and shook her head violently.
"You are considering me a weakness."
"No, no, no, my lovely Master", he pulled her close into an embrace, one she returned decidedly more awkwardly than usual. "You are my Master, I will fight for you and I know that your healing magic could help me then. But you have seen Kayneth's fate for trying to fight at my side. In battle, especially against a cornered enemy, anything could happen. And I would never be able to forgive myself if I bought the life of my sister with yours."
"Which is exactly what I meant. You think I'd die", he saw her biting her lip in frustration.
Oberyn couldn't help but smile bitterly. In a way she was correct, but it would not be polite to say so.
"You told me you do not have a wish for the Grail. Is that still true?"
She hesitated. A confirmation for his suspicion more than anything.
"… yes…", when the reply came, it was barely a whisper.
"So why risk everything for something you aren't even in need for? There is something far more important I need you to grasp."
Sola-ui's eyes were fixed on his chest. Her mouth was moving, but no words came out. Still, Oberyn had a decent idea what she wanted to say.
"My dear, I am just a vengeful spectre from a distant world. A mirage, if you so want. I may be here and hold your arms, but I will go back to nothingness soon enough. You meanwhile are firmly rooted in this world, alive, and with a whole life in front of you."
He saw her teeth clench.
"What life… Going back to my family, without Kayneth, getting sold off like cattle…"
"Master", he stressed that word to emphasize his displeasure. "We already had this discussion. I was a second child as well, I have been in the situation to look for a purpose beyond duty. And there is: It is what you make your purpose! Sola-ui, my dearest, dearest Master… If you truly want to make me proud, then take pride in yourself and experience life to the fullest! If your family doesn't let you, then renounce the Sophia-re name and make your own! Find your path! Go out there, travel the world, gain skills your own, find love wherever you desire! Let our meeting be just one step on the climb to greatness!"
He felt her arms retract and started to pull out of the embrace, but instead of stepping back she just balled her fists and remained leaning with her whole weight against his chest.
"Renounce my name… make my own… Do you know what you are asking of me?"
"Nothing easy to be sure. But something worthwhile. Sola-ui…", he took a breath, her perfume lingered in his nose, but he steeled himself for what needed to be said. "You have just contemplated going against my wish and chaining me to this world, have you not?"
Now she withdrew, her eyes narrowing.
"What makes you say that?"
"The way you stopped yourself just short of it. No need to deny. I have watched you closely all this time. I know you are a woman who does not hesitate to just take what she wants if she has no other way."
"Now you are being cruel…"
"I know. But it has to be said: Don't make me choose between my sister and you! You know how I would decide. Every time. And not even the Grail could let me forget such a betrayal if it came to pass."
Her eyes downcast, she just nodded in acknowledgement. Oberyn couldn't help but stroke her cheek, feel the warmth of her skin as she gently pressed against his hand.
"Do you love me?"
For a fraction of a second she seemed once again taken aback, wanted to blurt out an answer, but then just as suddenly bit her tongue.
"As I suspected."
"No, I do very much love you", she protested weakly.
"Me or the freedom I represent?"
She clasped his stretched out hand with hers, holding it tightly, a bitter smile on her face.
"My prince reads me like a book."
"As I said, I had more than enough time to look very intently at you. So… you must see that I'm right. That you must take that selfish desire and direct it at something that is worth your while. Let me fight knowing that you are safe and shaping your own future."
Sola-ui sighed, shaking her head.
"Alright, alright. You got me. I will prove my loyalty to you. Under one condition though."
"Oh?", he said, cocking his head.
Her eyes met his again. Colder and more determined than he had ever before seen them.
"Win! Be united with your sister! And tell her of me!"
Oberyn laughed.
"I am not sure this is how my wish would take shape, but I'll try to make it happen", he noted that she smiled at that and didn't object. "But I will make sure not to forget."
With that her drew her close for one last kiss. As he was tasting her, his hand went for hers and placed the ticket inside them before folding her fingers, making sure that she had it clasped tightly when they pulled back.
"I will pray that you will find worth in your freedom", he said.
"And I will pray for your victory during all of it. Don't you dare disappoint me!"
"Never. For the Red Viper's sting shall always be deadly! Farewell, my lovely Master!"
He summoned his red and bronze armor, taking one last look upon his mistress of this strange foreign world. Cocking his most mischievous smile, he flung himself down into the street, switching into his incorporeal form as he did so. He heard her racing to the edge of the roof behind him, shouting something. But unfortunately the words got lost in the brushing of the wind.
Jaime
It took him quite some time until he felt ready to face the Magus Killer again without thoughts of violent intent. And when he did, he found him having set up shop in the sound control room above the concert hall, hunched over his laptop. There Jaime watched him wordlessly stare at the feed of his security cameras, with the pounding of his headache being his only constant company. He sure hoped Kiritsugu was right and the remaining enemies would show up. It would be an embarrassing story to tell about the night he just slumped down dead, bored and fuming, waiting for a fight that never came.
Fortunately, probably, Jaime wasn't entirely sure whether it would have been apt to call the prospect of bloodshed fortunate after all, Kiritsugu proved right. On one of the video feeds, the one of the damn main entrance even, a fully armored Oberyn Martell, spear leisurely resting on his shoulder, was strolling in as if he had no care in the world.
Kiritsugu glanced at Jaime with a dark expression: "You know what to do."
Jaime nodded: "I will set the stage for him."
He was just about to turn towards the exit as he noticed another video feed suddenly breaking off. It was one of those he set up, he noted with a touch of hurt pride. His first instinct was that he did something wrong, but Kiritsugu, who also saw it, just stared at the static with narrowed eyes, no hostility directed at him.
"Of course, he is here, too."
"He?"
"Kirei Kotomine", the Magus Killer rose from his chair, quickly checking his equipment.
Jaime stopped in his tracks.
"You will be alright facing him and Assassin on your own?", he asked.
"It is a gamble to be sure, but I do not think Assassin will be there."
"What makes you think that?"
Kiritsugu paused briefly, apparently considering whether he could afford spending the time lecturing his vassal.
"If he thinks he can kill me, he will remove you from the board. That only leaves Lancer and I don't think Assassin has much in store to deal with him in open battle."
"So Assassin will jump into our fight?", Jaime wasn't sure he liked the idea of Arya jumping in between their blades.
"It is what I'd do if I were him."
"Alright. I focus on my battle and you on yours."
His featured hardened again, his eyes being unsettlingly empty.
"Yes, that is what we will do", he said icily.
With that as their only parting words, Jaime hurried down towards the concert hall, summoning his armor just as he reached the base of the stairs. When he swung open the door of the exit, Oberyn wasn't yet there and Jaime felt a little foolish for hurrying all that much. He climbed onto the stage, drew Oathkeeper with its black and red blade and gaudily ornate hilt and had still more than enough time finding a pose of confidence before the Red Viper arrived from his leisurely stroll through the civic center. The bronze armored knight hopped onto the other end of the stage and gave Jaime an acknowledging nod.
"So this is it, then", Jaime saluted him. "No more tricks, no more running away. Just an old-fashioned duel to the death."
"Indeed. Though I am surprised to find you still standing, Kingslayer. For that alone I praise your endurance."
Jaime cocked his most vicious smile to that. He kind of expected it to go like this.
"Oh, you will find me full of surprises", he said only half aloud.
Jaime wasn't waiting for a response. He made one large leap to quickly bridge the distance between them. He saw the surprise written in the whites of the Red Viper's eyes beneath his helmet as he let his spear dart out. The knight of the Kingsguard didn't care for the risk anymore. Knocking into the spear with his shield, he made a high feint with Oathkeeper, then followed it up with a low cut. Oberyn managed to switch the direction of his shield in the last moment, but was only able to deflect the Valyrian blade, not block it entirely. In a last ditch effort the bronze knight threw himself to the side, causing Jaime to only nick his leg as he did so. But Jaime wouldn't let him. He followed him, Oathkeeper singing in the air with a quick series of more cuts and slashes. He barely noticed the poisoned spear slamming against his shield and armor, but with Jaime being so close in his face, Oberyn had trouble getting his weapon into effective angles. In the end, all he could do was back off and back off ever more desperately. In the end, he let himself fall off the stage and crash down into the seats below to evade a swing that would have taken his head. Jaime followed him down, preparing for a stab, but Oberyn was already on his feet and circled quickly around him, his spear presented outward. So Jaime kept his sword close and at the ready and his shield pointed at Oberyn's spear, mirroring his motion as he turned with him as to not waste more energy than necessary.
Damn, I'm even more done for than I thought. I should have killed him three times there…
With the tension of the exertion building back, Jaime became aware again of the sweat running down into his face, threatening to impair his vision. Not to mention the sound of his racing heart.
If I fall, I won't be able to get up again…
Gritting his teeth, he prepared for another charge.
"I must admit, I am taken aback. You weren't this aggressive in our last fight. Did you hold back?"
"Of course", Jaime replied, trying to hide his ragged breath with cockiness and doing a bad job at that, "Don't you think a great knight preserves his best moves for when it is the most appropriate?"
Not to mention I don't have to take care not to get cut anymore. Instead ending the fight as fast as possible is the only chance that I have. Before my legs give out…
Kirei
The excutor gave a contemptuous grunt as he stepped over the third tripwire so far. Given the magus killers' reputation and their previous encounters, he would have expected some more variation in his methods. Maybe he wanted him to drop his guard. Or a psychological tool to make him think Emiya had stopped adapting. That would have been fruitless though. In their last confrontation Emiya had been forced to resort to calling Saber to his aid, up until then Kirei had him cornered with his use of Black Keys. During that brief exchange Kirei had made mental notes of all the adjustments Emiya made to his fighting style just to adapt to Kirei's and it seemed highly unlikely he wouldn't have prepared for thrown Black Key's as well.
If I was him, I wouldn't allow myself to be caught in the open again. There will be a more classical ambush this time.
The multi-story Fuyuki civic center contained a downright scary amount of (still empty and in some place quite unifinished) office space, waiting rooms and narrow corridors. Kirei was following one of those as it suddenly opened up to a crossing with one the opposite route leading to towards the staircase.
Now that might just be that ambush…
Kirei readied his Black Keys. While he had already thought up a way to nullify Emiya's magic circuit destroying bullets, he shouldn't how his cards too early. The Magus Killer would want to catch him when he was expending his own magical energy. So he would have to create a situation where Kirei was forced to.
He was just about to spring the trap when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. While it was prudent to go analytically about what was supposed to happen, his emotions did betray him. He felt… anxious. That was not what he had expected. All throughout the Grail War he was excited to find out more about this man who had seemed so much like him. A man without remorse, without joy, with only stone cold murderous pragmatism guiding his every move. He expected to be excited for this final duel. And yet…
Iri!
For some reason, it was Emiya's scream in the forest that came to his mind. A scream so agonized, so out of place both for Kirei's picture of that man and the supposed death of the ultimately doomed anyway homunculus it was directed at, that he seemed to have filtered it out of his perception.
Why didn't I think of that earlier?
He still ended up shaking this idea out of his head. If his picture of Emiya was wrong, it ultimately meant very little. If anything, it would make it easier for Kirei to deal with him.
A metallic clacking sound ripped him out of his foolish seconds of contemplation. Kirei immediately tensed, holding his Black Keys close as he tracked the source back to the stairs where a small green can had come tumbling into the corridor crossing. With a brief hiss it started to quickly fill the room with thick black smoke. Kirei strained his ears for all sounds and noted there was some movement behind the smokescreen. Using his Black Keys and his swift motion as a gruesome folding fan he hurriedly cleared a path into the smoke, but only managed to glimpse upon the opposing wall. Then the gunfire started. It came from his left. With his vision of where they were coming from still obstructed, there was no way he could catch the bullets in the air with his Black Keys. Giving a frustrated grunt, he guarded his head with his arms and hurled himself behind the closest cover, which was a wooden counter in the center of the crossing. Emiya's aim even in the shadow of his smoke grenade was unsurprisingly impeccable, as was to be expected since he probably had already plotted for the most likely path Kirei would take. The priest's magically enhanced bulletproof frock may have stopped the bullets from piercing through, but their impacts still left him aching and bruised when he dove behind the uneasy cover and threw two Black Keys up in a wide angle to cut off Emiya's possible escape routes. He then rose from his cover, turning and throwing a third Black Key in the same motion, this one right into the center of the corridor he was shot at from.
There he stood. Kiritsugu Emiya. Clad in a black trenchcoat, black eyes fixed on his target, a stony expression on his face and his gun pointed straight at Kirei's chest. At least for the split second before he noticed the sword heading for him and ducking away under it. That was the window Kirei needed to leap on his cover and use it as a jumping off point to hurl his body with full speed at his opponent. Emiya reacted by pulling out his other gun, the one with the high calibre single shot. Whether he had one of his magic distorting bullets loaded or a regular one, Kirei couldn't tell and couldn't afford to underestimate in any case. He swung his Black Keys protectively in front of his face and activated a command spell. Not to call for Arya or empower her, but just to release its magical energy and pour it all into the Black Keys themselves, transforming the ethereal parts of the blades into bursting impenetrable barriers.
The bang of Emiya's dreaded trump card echoed through the hallway. Kirei didn't stop, didn't even hesitate. He knew that with the command spell behind it, his shield would be able to hold and make the Magus Killer unable to trace its origin back to his own magical circuits to do his nasty rearrangement with them. And so the bullet hit and turned out to be one of the Magus Killer's trump card ones, violently tearing apart his Black Keys and make them shatter in a burst of glowing red splinters. Keeping his momentum, Kirei went for a drop kick, anticipating that Emiya would use his speed magic to avoid it. And indeed, he tried, by the skin of his teeth, and with a notably twisted expression on his face. However his magic worked, it seemed to take a toll on him.
And yet, not enough!
As much as Emiya tried to twist himself away, Kirei still caught him with his heel at the shin bone. And did so with enough force to cause an audible crack and make Emiya reel and drop to one knee. Being the professional that he was, the Magus Killer even in that vulnerable position still presented a knife and tried to ram it into Kirei's side with superhuman speed. Valiant, but futile, as Kirei, who had already dropped the hilts of his destroyed Black Keys, flicked Emiya's arm away with one well placed strike with one fist, while the other went for his opponent's chest. More in an act of desperation than tactic, Emiya brought his gun into Kirei's vector, both sending it flying as well as somewhat diverting its force enough for Kirei to miss as Emiya did a surprisingly nimble backwards jump roll to bring some distance between them. A distance Kirei couldn't allow him to gain. He quickly closed in, grabbed his arm with his left as the Magus Killer was about to take a second knife and rammed his right elbow down on Emiya's shoulder as he did so.
As expected, his strength seems purely ranged combat and subterfuge.
The Magus Killer crumpled down at his feet, but before he hit the ground, Kirei went for a finisher, kneeing Emiya into his heart with a force of impact that sent him flying, crashing through a nearby door into a yet unfurnished office space, where he was left a limp tangle of arms and legs. Motionless. Unbreathing. Dead.
So that was it. In the end… I probably should feel a little disappointed…
Kirei turned away from the corpse, wondering whether he should go support Arya.
Oberyn
Spear and shield and sword and armor were singing a deadly duet as Oberyn Martell was still trying to keep his distance from the Kingslayer. Around the stage, through the rows of seats, up the stairs. Oberyn would have found their chase quite funny if he wasn't fighting for his life.
It was crazy enough to think that he can still stand, but that he could corner me like that…
The Kingslayer was said to be one of the best swordsmen in all of Westeros and he was certainly proving it, barely clinging to his life, but still completely nullifying the reach of Oberyn's spear with his aggressive and yet extremely precise attacks. The feints Oberyn had to deal with were at that mystic sweet spot where they were threatening enough that he needed to take them seriously or the Kingslayer would follow through on them, but quick enough that any follow-up strikes managed to penetrate his defence because of it. And that Valyrian steel sword of his… of course it made him even quicker due to how light it was. And it was sharp enough that Oberyn's armor could have just as well been made of paper. His shield was his only true protection and even it seemed to buckle at some of the more savage stabs.
Suddenly, a big crunching sound forced the two combatants apart. Oberyn feared another trick by the Kingslayer's Master, but he seemed just as confused as they looked to the side. Behind the stage one of the galleries had come down, the debris torn apart and burning. And amidst smoke and flames, a golden glow indicated its origin. A golden cup was hovering in the air, slowly emerging from the ruins of a room that used to be behind that gallery.
The Grail!
He looked back towards the Lannister. He whispered something, barely audible.
"Iri", he said.
The moment of peace was short lived. After taking a breath, Oberyn's opponent pressed on. Quickly their path of carnage had brought them back onto the stage, dangerously close to the gaping hole in the ground behind it. And the strange black mud that seemed to have caused it. The Kingslayer went at him in a low angle, Oberyn moved his shield, but Lannister pulled back again and went for a frontal stab. Metal scraped on metal, both from the Valyrian steel biting into his shield as well as from Oberyn's spear knocking against his opponent's silver shield. He used the force of the impact to push himself back a few steps, expecting Lannister to immediately close it and go for another attack like he did before, but as he was bracing for it, Oberyn sensed a movement at the edge of his vision that quickly came hurtling towards him at immense speed. Gritting his teeth, the Red Viper realized he had no other choice, even though it would probably get him killed. He whirled around with his shield at the last moment to intercept what turned out to be a small throwing dagger, but was forced to instantly turn back towards the Kingslayer coming at him.
And Oberyn barely managed to give the Valyrian steel sword a flick of his spear, sending it scraping across his shield as he hopped back some more steps, now almost reaching the edge of the stage again.
Too slow!
His triumphant thought left him confused. Given how the fight went so far, there was no way the Kingslayer wouldn't have been able to cut him down then and there. But there he stood, still holding his sword and… staring at him with blood shot eyes under his helmet. Under his white armor he seemed shivering.
No! He couldn't! Not anymore!
Another throwing knife was flung from a different position among the audience seats. Lannister saw it as well and moved in for another attack, but the Red Viper managed to both catch the knife in the air with his spear and let it swerve down on the incoming King's Guard knight. As if his shield was too heavy to lift now, the Kingslayer didn't even attempt to intercept it. Even before the Valyrian steel sword could have threatened him, Oberyn knocked him against the head so hard his helmet nearly caved. The Kingslayer abandoned his attack then and for the first time during their battle retreated in order to frantically get rid of it.
And when Oberyn looked into his opponent's face, he knew he had won. His skin was as ghostly white as some of his hair. He had thick purple veins coming up from his neck, almost blackened in some places.
"I acknowledge, it is most impressive you could still duel like this", Oberyn suppressed the urge to give a half-sincere bow. "But I am afraid I have to finish the faceless one before I can return to you."
The Kingslayer made a step forward to intercept him, but his leg gave way and he barely caught himself before tumbling to the ground.
"No wait, I am your opponent!"
Oberyn wondered about that. In a way, turning his back on him was acknowledging that he still was. After all he was acknowledging that he was still dangerous if Oberyn got distracted at the wrong moment when finishing him off.
No… you still are… you are my final opponent.
Kirei
Kirei was just turning around when he all of a sudden heard a metallic scraping sound and sensed motion behind him. He barely managed to comprehend all the implications when a grenade rolled up to his feet and this time it wasn't a smoke one. Expecting that the Magus Killer had probably timed it well enough, Kirei rapidly judged that he couldn't evade the explosion, but instead had to divert it. He fetched three of his Black Keys, poured a Command Spell's energy into them and rammed them into the ground between him and the grenade. Without bothering to check whether he succeeded in constructing a solid barrier, he threw himself flat on the ground, with his feet towards the danger. The explosion followed instantly, a wave of pressure and warmth washing over him, making his ears ring and fear that his clothes had been set on fire. But knowing how vulnerable he was, there was very little choice but to grit his teeth and jump right back up.
Kiritsugu Emiya stood there in front of the wrecked office door, tattered and breathing unsteadily, but unmistakeably alive. Somehow he was able to heal that much damage to his heart. And he stood there with a second grenade at the ready. Not sure whether he was able to survive such a stunt a second time, Kirei rapidly responded by shooting a Black Key at it, cutting Emiya's hand in the process and knock the grenade out of it. The Magus Killer grunted, then jumped with superhuman speed towards his big calibre gun that he had dropped earlier. Kirei intended to intercept him with another Black Key, but another explosion interrupted his attempt. It was not the grenade Emiya lost, it came from directly above him.
What the-
Flaming concrete chunks came down to bury the corridor behind him, some notably aiming for his head, so Kirei made a quick dash forward to escape them. Right into the arms of the Magus Killer who held him back with a salvo of his machine gun. Kirei stopped in his tracks, shielding himself with his Black Keys and deflecting the bullets with a high level attraction sacrament that caused the bullets to be drawn in towards his blades and get caught like that. When Emiya had finished emptying his magazine into him, there was still no respite. The ground behind him somehow gave way, even though the momentum of the debris shouldn't have been anywhere near enough to plunge holes into the floor. Something weird was going on and he needed to get away before the rapidly expanding abyss behind caught up to him.
Then the high calibre gun was aimed again at him.
So fast!
Emiya must have turned his speed spell to overdrive. His face was covered with thick veins, one of them on his forehead popping and splattering blood all over his face. Kirei activated his third command spell, but Kiritsugu didn't intend to waste his shot on his Black Keys. Before Kirei had time to react, he lowered his aim and fired. The bullet went straight through his kevlar pants and entered his thigh, dropping him to his Kirei's eyes briefly looked down to catch his fall, he noticed the cracks opening up rapidly under his feet.
Too fast!
He looked back up to Emiya, one last defiant stare. The Magus Killer met it with clenched teeth and a cold, condemning look of his own. Then he disappeared out of his view as the ground gave way and Kirei was plunged down into the floor below, where only darkness awaited him. He expected to land painfully on broken concrete and sharp steel debris, but what was actually awaiting him he couldn't have possibly prepared for. As he hit the blackness below, it seemed to swallow him whole and overwhelmed his senses. Every question of where he was and how he got here was overwhelmed with a searing pain that didn't even come from his body, but from his brain. A thousand voices drilled into him all at once, somehow whispering and screaming at the same time, cursing and hating in unknowable languages. Without direction, without the ability to think, Kirei Kotomine sunk deeper into the abyss.
Jaime
"No wait, I am your opponent!", Jaime called out, desperately fighting against gravity to get his knees up.
The Red Viper shot him a very strange look, almost as if pitying, but certainly one saying that he wasn't worth killing right now.
"Do not worry, Kingslayer. This will not take long."
And with these words he made one rapid leap off the stage and into a row of seats across the room, his spear skewering several of them. Arya must have used the precious seconds of doubt whether to finish off Jaime or not to change position as Oberyn couldn't find more than wood and fabric to plunge his accursed spear in. Unfortunately his eyes quickly seemed to have found her next hiding spot. So he cut a path across the auditorium until he seemingly skewered just another seat. This time however he ripped it from its position and flung it to the side with a swift flick of his spear.
"Ugh…"
There she was, hit squarely in the chest and tumbling out into the stairs in between the seating rows. The wolf girl, Arya Stark, fleeing on all fours, half falling, when the Red Viper came running after her, kicking away the dislodged seat as he did so.
"So this is what a Prince of Dorne has come to! Murdering children, huh? Feeling very hypocritical today?", Jaime spat out.
The Red Viper shot him a brief, but tellingly dark look. More than he had hoped for, probably. It gave Arya enough time to get back up on her feet and jump onto the stage. The open stage. Jaime didn't quite knew what got into her. Oberyn Martell didn't seem intend to find it out though and game up with his spear. Jaime forced his last energy into his veins, but still couldn't make himself intervene before Oberyn had managed to get one hit in… one that notably got parried to the side by a slender blade that the girl had drawn in the split second she needed to turn back towards her attacker. Oberyn paused briefly, seemingly taken slightly aback by the girl going into a flashy sideways stance and defiantly awaiting his next attack.
"Another one who is full of surprises, faceless girl! If I am not completely mistaken, this is a Water Dancer opening stance. Your time in Braavos must have been very curious!"
"Maybe I just watched them and am pretending. Or maybe I'm a master who truly sees. Are you willing to find out?", the girl snarled at him and Jaime couldn't help but admire her desperate bravado.
The Red Viper seemingly felt the same. He gave a benevolent chuckle.
"By all means. Show me the mettle of the Moon Pool Bravos!"
And with that violent intent he let his spear dart forward. Arya braced to parry it again, probably thinking how to follow up with a stab of her own, but given given the Red Viper's vastly superior strength and speed, there was little chance for her to do any more than survive. Luckily the poison laced spear tip never reached her sword, much less her skin. A dark red blaze intercepted it and set the whole damn spear instantly aflame. Oberyn jumped back, unabashed surprise on his face. Between him and the girl stood Jaime Lannister. Still a walking corpse, but seemingly back on his feet. And to top it off, his sword was engulfed in eery dark red, almost black flames.
Jaime didn't really know how he managed it, but somehow he did. Whether it was a part of that surge of energy coming off Oathkeeper coursing back through him or just a last ditch of stubborn refusal to fail his sword's will, Jaime couldn't tell. And he guessed the miracle would get pulled away right under him if he questioned it too much.
"What is this?", Oberyn asked, incredulously staring at the flaming sword pointed at him.
"Ned Stark's steel, protecting Ned Stark's daughter", Jaime shot back, grimly noting the look of confusion on the Prince of Dorne's face. "Oh right, you had no idea who she is, don't you? You never met her. You were never searching for her on the King's Road after her wolf pup mauled Joffrey. You only arrived at King's Landing after she had already disappeared when Cersei's men tried to seize her and ultimately judged her dead."
Not quite so dead as we thought, given how much older she looks now.
Jaime couldn't help but steal a little glance at her shocked expression behind him, where she stood slightly to his side and staring dumbfounded at the flaming blade.
"She is the Stark girl? This… But… What does she mean to you?"
"I swore an oath, Prince Oberyn. I swore a solemn oath to Lady Catelyn Stark. To bring back her daughters", he once again looked over his shoulder, this time his eyes meeting with the girl's. "An oath I intend to uphold"
He turned back to Oberyn, who had used the time to kill the flames on his spear with a Servant strength strike into empty air.
"You of all people? After all your family did to hers?"
Well, at first I kept to it just for the hell of it, but I can't exactly admit that, can I?
"Yes, yes, that doesn't sound like the rotten oath-breaking Kingslayer with shit for honor, doesn't it? Ah yes, there is another thing you can't know. You were there when my father gifted this sword forged out of Ned Stark's ancestral sword to me, but you didn't live to see me naming it."
Jaime readied himself and so did Oberyn. One last joust. One last clash of arms, then this mad game would be over. He gripped the ornate Lannister hilt ever tighter.
"Prepare yourself, Prince of Dorne. For I will tell you: My Sword of Redemption!"
Steel and flame came at Oberyn all at once. Whether it was Oberyn's awe at the flaming sword coming at him or Jaime's renewed vigour, the blade worked swift and with all of Jaime's skill behind it. One strike, one faint and suddenly it was pointed straight at the Red Viper's chest. He staired down at it for a split second, then knocked it away, but two strikes later it was back in killing position. Another frantic knock followed and this time Jaime cut straight through Oberyn's spear in response. With his hand moving more on instinct than consciousness, the blood red writhing flames were once again pointed at his opponent's heart. Oberyn's expression was hard to read. In between dejection and frustration, there seemed to be a budding awareness that staying and fighting was a fatal mistake. For Jaime only needed to speak the words:
"Oathkeeper!"
With a feral roar, the Valyrian steel released the dragonfire it was forged with, engulfing the Red Viper. An anguished scream quickly swallowed by the flames later, it was all over. All what was left of his opponent was a blackened path scorched into the flooring. Their fight had ended.
Adrenaline and desperation subsiding, Jaime sank to his knees.
If I fall, I won't be able to get up again… ah, no… hells, it doesn't even matter anymore.
According to Kiritsugu, there was a good chance killing Oberyn would dispel the curse biting at him, but it would take quite some time for his body to heal. Time he was afraid he wouldn't have. Arya came into his view, warily circling around him with a respectful distance.
"Is it true what you said just now?", she asked after a few moments of hesitation.
Jaime looked up at her. In their previous encounters he wasn't really able to take a good look at her, but now he did. She was definitely older than he remembered and much older than the brief time he spent wandering his way back to King's Landing would make him expect. And yet… aside the to be expected distrustfulness, her eyes were so cold and cruel he could hardly believe it was the same spirited lady he had met at Winterfell, briefly as their meeting was. He could hardly imagine what she went couldn't help but shiver at remembering how the machinations of his father had also turned her mother's heart into stone and deep regret was washing over him. Death, pain and misery seemed to have been his family's legacy.
"It was", Jaime said firmly, then looking down at Oathkeeper whose flames had disappeared and only a faint glow of the red ripples remained as a remainder of it having been awakened just now. "If it wasn't, Oathkeeper wouldn't have responded to my call."
"You… want to bring me home?"
Jaime nodded, glancing at the golden cup still hovering in the air behind them, still oozing black pus. The purpose of Iri's sacrifice… though even after all the insanity he had witnessed, it appeared even more violent and sinister than he had envisioned.
"How?", Arya added.
Jaime met her grey eyes with a defiant gaze. Ever since he faced her in the woods he had imagined this moment, had pondered how to best go about upholding his oath. Pondered about the risks and how to express it. Now the words prepared seemed all but gone, not in the least because after discovering having been poisoned, he didn't quite expect he'd get so far anymore. So when the time now came, all he could do was whisper:
"Kill me!"
"What?"
He couldn't say he didn't understand her confusion.
"Just take this blade of yours and cut my throat! Then take the Grail, before-"
… he arrived. The close range of the supplier of his Mana was the first thing he perceived, but he quickly located him on a gallery overseeing the auditorium. The Magus Killer's clothes were tattered and blood was running down his head, but he seemed to have come out on top in his fight all the same. Upon arrival he, too, first looked at the Grail with what might pass as a mournful expression, if you squinted. Then he lowered his gaze and discovered the unequal pair on the stage, with Jaime kneeling vulnerably in front of Arya. Jaime's heart sunk into his bowels as their eyes met. Somehow, the knight of the Kingsguard instantly knew that something bad was about to happen. He turned hurriedly back to the girl.
"Do it! Kill me! Quickly!", he urged.
The Stark girl gaped at him, somehow not quite comprehending why he, her final enemy, would ask this of him. Was she suspecting a trap? Jaime felt the urge to slap some sense into her, but feared even this would come too late. For Kiritsugu above them raised his fist and spoke:
"Saber. With my second Command Spell, I order you: Kill Arya Stark!"