Author's Note: I'm so sorry for the delay! College work has been eating me alive, and I've just barely had time to work on this fic. And that's not even factoring into how hard it got to write towards the end of this chapter; see the closing author's note for more details.

Chapter 21: The Greatest Threat

The Archer Servant seemed amused by Saber's hostility.

"What's that look for, boy?" he asked rhetorically, his sneer never wavering. "We meet again, just as I promised, and you won't even show me the respect I deserve?"

Shira watched worriedly as Saber maintained his frosty silence. He wasn't thinking of fighting that Servant, was he? If he couldn't beat him ten years ago, what made him think he could now? Saber will only die if he goes up against him!

"Shira," the knight began, "I want you out of here."

"What?"

"I will do everything I can to—"

"No!" Shira cried before Saber could finish, pushing him aside. "You leave, not me!"

The redhead took off running towards the eighth Servant, a plan to project Caliburn hastily forming in her mind. She heard Saber shouting out her name, and she had almost closed the distance between her and the unknown Servant when he suddenly snapped his fingers—

And Shira froze where she stood, blood spewing forth from a gash that had just appeared on her stomach. She stared numbly at the red liquid staining her shirt, too stunned to feel any pain, and collapsed unceremoniously to the hard ground.

"So, this is your Master, Saber?" The Servant roved his gaze over Shira's bloodied, fallen body; Saber saw the predatory glint in those crimson eyes and his fury grew. "And here I thought you had gotten yourself a whore."

In a flash, Saber had transitioned to his armor. "Don't talk about her like that!" He charged forward and leapt into the air with Excalibur raised over his head, determined to slice the arrogant Servant to pieces. Just when Saber was in striking distance—clang!

A sword had suddenly appeared in front of the other man's face, effectively blocking Saber's attack. The knight jumped backward and landed on his feet, right in front of where Shira was lying.

"I'm guessing from your behavior," the eighth Servant said as the sword floating in midair disappeared, "that you still don't intend to bow before me."

"The very thought is ludicrous!" Saber snapped. With a battle cry, he raced forward again, Excalibur glowing with mana. But with each attack he delivered, no matter where he tried to strike, a sword would always appear to parry his blows. And during all this, the unknown Servant simply stood there, making no offensive move.

Soon enough, Saber was back on the ground in front of Shira, grunting in frustration.

His opponent let out a short bark of laughter. "Well, if you're going to insist on a fight, then allow me to show you more of my swords."

And with that, the shirt, pants, and fur-trimmed coat the other man was wearing were quickly replaced by his golden armor. Saber tightened his grip on Excalibur, while the Archer Servant smirked haughtily.

"Gate of Babylon."

Shira was pulled out of her stupor in time to see a red streak of light just behind the Servant shoot into the sky. The light grew larger and larger as if it were double doors opening; in seconds, it had become like a wall, the bright red color changing to orange, then yellow.

A small sword appeared in the unknown Servant's hand. He lifted it horizontally and swung it in Saber's direction, sending out shards of ice. Immediately, the knight lifted Excalibur to protect his face, a few pieces of ice colliding with the blade. Barely a second later, the golden Servant had a huge sickle in hand. The sickle was thrown at Saber, directly at his neck. He lifted his gauntleted hand to block it—and took a sharp intake of breath as the sickle went straight through his arm.

"Sa...ber," Shira managed to gasp out, ignoring her still throbbing wound as she looked at his injury. Blood was seeping onto both Saber's gantlet and the sickle. The enemy Servant jerked the sickle's chain, pulling the weapon out of Saber's arm and sending it back into the Gate of Babylon.

Saber sank to his knees, panting and using Excalibur as a crutch. "How did you..." Pierce through my armor? was what he wanted to ask, but he didn't have the strength to finish.

The golden Servant did not even answer. Instead, the Gate became orange and shimmered. Slowly, the hilts of many swords appeared, not just ten or twenty, but a countless amount—and, as far as Shira could tell, all were undoubtedly Noble Phantasms. She vividly recalled how the unknown Servant had skewered both Caster and Kuzuki to death and would have screamed at Saber to run if she'd had the energy.

"Just who are you?" Saber asked, staring at all of the weapons floating from the Gate. "No one Epic Spirit can possess that many Noble Phantasms."

"I wouldn't be so quick to assume, Saber," the other man said with a smirk. "In the beginning of history, the world was once united as one, and all of its treasures were bestowed upon a single king."

"When the world was once united..." Saber repeated, then his eyes suddenly widened in realization. "You can't possibly be—!"

"I am," the Servant said smugly. "My true identity is none other than history's oldest king. I am Ancient Uruk's King of Heroes, Gilgamesh!"

The King...of Heroes...? The thought came to Shira's mind sluggishly, and even slightly turning her head in the enemy's direction took some effort.

"Accept your fate, Saber," Gilgamesh declared. "You've finally found a Servant that even you are no match for."

At this point, Saber had gotten to his feet with renewed determination. "Well, unless we try," he retorted, Excalibur swirling with mana, "we won't know that for sure, now, will we?"

Gilgamesh was unfazed. "Fine." He reached into the Gate of Babylon as all the Noble Phantasms disappeared from view. "I'll choose a weapon I think is appropriate for this fight." In his hand was a sword with a cylindrical, spiral-shaped blade like a drill, divided into three parts. "I'll face you with a sword that can only be wielded," he lifted the sword up over his shoulder, "by a king."

And with those words, the three components of the sword turned in three different directions. Powerful gusts of wind picked up as Gilgamesh's weapon swirled with mana. In seconds, the air was so thick with magical energy that Shira could almost taste it.

"Run, Saber!" she shouted at last, struggling to be heard over the windstorm. "Get out of here!"

But Saber remained undaunted, Excalibur now glowing. He charged forward towards Gilgamesh. "EX—"

"ENUMA—"

"—CALIBUR!"

"—ELISH!"

The two Servants had activated their Noble Phantasms at the same time. Saber's golden light clashed with Gilgamesh's red light, the windstorm becoming more powerful. For a few seconds, both attacks seemed to be on equal footing, and Saber gritted his teeth in the attempt to overpower Gilgamesh. But the golden-armored king suddenly smirked, and the red light intensified, greedily consuming the light of Excalibur. Saber only had time for a shocked gasp before the light engulfed him and a thunderous crash was heard.

Just like that, the fight was over. The light faded, the wind died, and a gash had been ripped from the brick road where Gilgamesh's Noble Phantasm had struck.

Shira lifted her head from the ground and turned to her left, her heart nearly stopping at the sight of Saber lying on his side in a pool of blood—his blood. His normally sharp blue-green eyes were lifeless and cloudy, his mouth trickled with blood, and Excalibur was lying off to the side, having been knocked out of his hands.

Gilgamesh laughed from where he stood. "That sword was supposed to be the greatest sword in history, and it couldn't even go one round with Ea. On the other hand," he added mockingly, "perhaps I should have gone easy on him. After all, my opponents are just a child and a virgin."

"Saber!" Shira ignored Gilgamesh as he continued to laugh himself sick. "Saber! Can you see?" She tried to crawl over to the knight, but stopped almost immediately, hissing in pain.

"Shira...?" Saber's voice was hardly above a whisper as he blindly groped for Excalibur. "You are...still here?" His hand made contact with his sword's hilt as Gilgamesh's laughter finally subsided. "You have to go...Don't worry about me..."

Saber slowly got up, once again using Excalibur as a crutch as he began to stagger towards Gilgamesh. "I can still...fend him off," he said in between pained grunts.

"Saber, stop!" Shira protested; the scene was far too similar to that first battle with Berserker for her liking. "He'll kill you!"

"How gallant of you, Saber," Gilgamesh sneered, "but you are in no condition to continue this fight. If you're finished with your bravado, why not give me your answer regarding my proposition."

As wounded and weakened as he was, Saber still mustered up a defiant glare at his opponent, his voice becoming a little stronger. "You already know my answer—no. You wish to use me as you would any of the weapons you have stored in your vault. You would have me be enslaved to your will, and I assure you, I find death to be much more preferable than being subjugated to the authority of a despot."

The sneer on Gilgamesh's face disappeared, and his eyes narrowed coolly.

"Refusing your King's generous offer, Pendragon? Denying that you are my tool, my toy? I suppose I must punish a disobedient pet."

Saber could not suppress a shiver at these words, but his resolve was unshaken.

Shira, meanwhile, did not bother to hide her fear. "Gilgamesh, no!" she burst out, trying to stand up and only succeeding in getting on her knees. "Don't you dare hurt him again!"

Gilgamesh was still looking at Saber. "Don't worry; I won't be hurting you..." he now eyed Shira, "directly."

It was as though ice had suddenly filled the girl's body as the golden king stared at her, his terrible red gaze glittering maliciously and a sly grin crossing his lips. What else could he mean about not directly hurting Saber when he was wearing that expression? It was like...like...

Like he was undressing her with his eyes.

"I think...this is a most fitting punishment, Saber," Gilgamesh stated. "Please, try not to get too excited while I deflower and violate your cute Master."

At that moment, Saber could have sworn he stopped breathing. The image was in his head for an instant, but it was an instant too long. He saw Shira, naked and helpless, with Gilgamesh on top of her, inside of her, and she was screaming and sobbing in terror, begging—pleading—for him to stop, but he wouldn't stop, he was heedless of her cries—

Blood started pounding in Saber's ears. What he felt towards himself and Kiritsugu was positively saintly compared to the pure, utter loathing he now felt for Gilgamesh. And when he next spoke, his voice was calm—deadly calm.

"I will kill you if you touch her." He then turned slightly to face his Master. "Shira, run! Now! What he says is not a threat, it's a promise! You must escape!" He was aware of how desperate he sounded, and he couldn't bring himself to care.

"I won't leave you!" Shira cried, shoving the fact that Gilgamesh wanted to have his way with her from her mind—how could she even think about fleeing when that would mean abandoning Saber to be killed?—as she made another attempt to stand. She partially succeeded; she got to her feet, but doubled over almost immediately, her breath ragged.

"Do as I say! If Gilgamesh gets his hands on you—"

"Shut up!" Shira shrieked at once, interrupting Saber. "You don't get it, do you? I will never leave you behind—I can't!"

"And just why not?" Saber demanded. "Your virginity has been threatened, and all you can worry about is—"

"It's because I love you, you idiot!"

A few seconds of ringing silence passed, Saber's eyes widening in stunned disbelief. "Shira..."

The redhead straightened up as much as she dared. "Saber, I love you," she repeated, her voice softening. "That is something that will never change, not even if I valued my life above everything else. With that said," she switched her gaze to Gilgamesh, anger replacing her earlier fear, "I won't let this guy get what he wants."

Gilgamesh raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? You should feel honored that the King of Heroes wants to ravish you."

Shira shot him a scorching glare. "Go to hell, you son of a bitch."

Said son of a bitch only smirked, lifting the sword he'd called Ea. "I see you want to be disciplined in the worst way." With those words, Ea started to spin again, mana swirling around the blade.

Shira held out her arm and shut her eyes tightly. "Trace, on."

Her circuits flipped on, roaring to life with mana. Initiate projection.

Maybe projection magic wouldn't be enough to defeat Gilgamesh. Maybe Shira's efforts would all be for nothing and she would just end up dead or worse. But that didn't matter, couldn't matter.

For Shira, all that mattered was protecting Saber; everything within her was centered on that single goal. As strong as her Servant was, she knew better than to think he was invincible. He once said he was her sword, but swords could be nicked, blunted, or even broken. And if anything could protect a sword from harm, it could only be—

Shira's eyes snapped opened as a brilliant golden light shot towards the sky. She heard Gilgamesh draw a sharp intake of breath, and the light faded to reveal a glowing golden—scabbard?—floating in front of her.

"Shira!"

Before the redhead could think too much about what she had just projected, Saber was hurrying over to her, holding out Excalibur, the blade pointing downward. "Take it," was the only thing he said.

Shira gave Saber a questioning glance, and he answered with a quick nod. Wordlessly, she also grasped Excalibur's hilt and lifted her gaze to the red light surrounding Ea.

"That won't help you!" Gilgamesh bellowed, at last releasing Ea's power.

Saber and Shira's only response was to raise Excalibur and, with great battle cries, slide it into the scabbard. The red light crashed against the glowing protection of Excalibur and was deflected straight back at Gilgamesh, whose eyes widened in what might have been astonishment. He attempted to use Ea as a shield, but yelps of pain could be heard as his own attack was inflicted on him.

The red light faded, a second gash now ripped into the brick road. For a couple of seconds, Gilgamesh stood with his jaw clenched, steam hissing as it rose from his body, then he vanished into spirit form. Almost instantly, Excalibur and the scabbard disappeared, along with Saber's armor, leaving him back in his civilian clothes.

Shira's vision swam as the mana in her body faded, the pain in her stomach returning in full force and her legs nearly buckling under her weight. She heard Saber call out her name and felt his arms encircle her before she could fall.

"Sa...Saber..." Shira leaned against him heavily. A few seconds of silence passed as she let herself enjoy the feel of Saber's arms around her.

"I finally figured it out," he said, his voice warm and almost breathless. "All this time...you had Avalon, Shira."

The world was fading; Shira didn't even have the energy to wonder what Saber was talking about. Her last thought before she passed out was wishing she had enough strength to return his embrace.

Britain was in civil war.

The knight Mordred led a revolt against the King while Arthur was away on an expedition. When Arthur returned to Camelot to find that many of his own men had turned against him, there was no choice but to fight and kill them. The sheer irony was not lost on him: these knights once pledged their loyalty to him, and now he and the men still faithful to him shed their blood just as easily as they would with any other enemy.

The fight would eventually become known as the Battle of Camlann. Casualties were high on both sides, and very few knights survived. By the end, Arthur and Mordred were fighting in single combat, the battleground covered with the bodies of the dead.

The sound of clanging metal filled the air as the two blades crossed each other.

"Why did you refuse to pass the throne to me?" Mordred demanded furiously. "You would name Sir Gawain as your heir, but not me?! I'm your son!"

Arthur's veins flooded with ice at those last three words. Yes, it was true that Mordred had his blood...his blood and Morgan's. The boy had been conceived during the night Arthur so desperately wanted to block from his mind. But Mordred's very presence would not let him forget. Images of being bound by his half sister's magic, of her forcing herself on him and being unable to do anything about it appeared in his head, and his eyes narrowed in sudden rage as he leapt backward.

"Don't ever say that again!" Arthur snarled, his anger rising with every word. "You are no son of mine!" He charged forward. "I have no son!"

Excalibur was swung, slicing Mordred from shoulder to hip. With a feral scream, Arthur proceeded to stab his enemy in the heart, killing him. But Mordred must have been under some spell cast by his mother; his sword swung even after he died and stabbed Arthur fully in the stomach.

Pain erupted from the King's wound; he no longer had Excalibur's scabbard, so this was an injury that would not heal automatically. Arthur slumped to his knees, and as darkness claimed him, he wondered if his death was very near at hand.

When he regained consciousness, he found himself lying beneath a tree in a forest, Sir Bedivere standing before him, and he knew that he would shortly die from his grievous wound. After ordering his loyal knight to throw Excalibur into the lake, Arthur was left to drown in his regrets and lament his failures. All he had wanted was to save his country; instead, he had allowed it to plunge into ruin.

The thought that he never should have become king filled him, consumed him. And at that moment, on the verge of death, Arthur Pendragon made a deal with the world: he offered his services as a Counter Guardian in exchange for the chance to have his wish to redo the selection of the king fulfilled.

The appeal was made, the deal was accepted, and the contract was established.

"I am glad to see you have come to, Shira," Saber said after walking into his Master's room to see her sitting up in her futon, evidently recovered from the injury she sustained last night.

Shira gave a start as if shaken from thought. "Oh, hey. How long have I been asleep?"

"For about a day," Saber replied, sitting by her bedside. "I carried you home after you fell unconscious. Your wound was able to heal almost completely, so you should be at full strength soon."

"Good." Shira looked down and pulled the covers away from her, examining her clean shirt and skirt. Did Saber change my clothes? She felt herself flush at the idea, but decided that there was a more important question she should be asking. "But what about you? Are you okay?"

"My injuries will not pose a problem," Saber replied calmly.

The redhead nodded, but soon a frown came to her face. "So, about Gilgamesh..."

Saber's mouth set into a grim line. "I'm afraid we have not seen the last of him."

"We'll have to face him again, won't we?" Shira proceeded to rub her hand up and down her upper arm as though to ward off a chill, her frown deepening in worry.

The blond found himself sorely tempted to hold her just as he had last night, if only to make that anxious look on her face go away. Anger flared within him as he was reminded of what their current enemy intended to do to Shira. An image of the arrogant king staring hungrily at her flashed in Saber's mind, taunting him, daring him to interfere.

You dog, Gilgamesh, he thought viciously. I swear by Britain itself, I will gut you if it's the last thing I do.

Out loud, however, Saber said impassively, "It will not be easy, but our only choice is to defeat him if we are to acquire the Holy Grail."

Shira stared at him, her brows furrowing. Sensing that she was about to begin the same argument they'd had on the bridge, Saber decided to change the subject.

"I suggest you have dinner now that you are feeling better." He stood up and walked to the door.

"Saber."

He turned around again. "Yes, what is—Shira?!"

To his amazement, Shira had gotten to her feet, hurried over to him, and threw her arms around him, hugging him for dear life. Saber, too surprised to even return the gesture, felt his face heat up at the sensation of having her warm body pressed against his.

He swallowed, his throat having gone dry. "Shira," he repeated, "w-what are you...?"

"Saber, please listen to me," Shira said in a slightly trembling voice, her face in his shoulder. "You don't have to redo the selection of the king. You fought for your people to the very end, and you never once broke your vow. What you've done is more than enough. If we get the Grail, I want you stay and find what makes you happy. I want you to stay here..." she tightened her grip, "with me."

Saber remained silent for several seconds. He did not push Shira away from him, but neither did he move to embrace her. The last sentence she spoke forced him to remember something he could no longer deny, something he had buried in the back of his mind for the last twenty-four hours—those three words she had screamed at him during their encounter with Gilgamesh.

I love you.

This girl said she loved him, and as far as he could tell, she was being absolutely sincere. But why?

"You know I cannot do that," Saber finally said quietly. "You have seen my memories; you know what lies in my past. After seeing that, how can you expect me to not want to change things?"

Shira pulled back a little, her hands now settling themselves on his chest. "I'm sorry, but I fell in love with you. What am I supposed to do, just let you leave when this is all over?"

Saber looked down, unable to hold the redhead's gaze. There were so many reasons why she shouldn't love him. He was a Servant whose sole purpose was to fight, then disappear after either getting killed or winning the Grail. He was a monarch who had always chosen duty above everything else. He was someone who had become so good at suppressing emotion during his reign that his people accused him of being heartless. He was someone who could not defend himself from the woman who raped him and whose wife was so miserable being married to him that she sought comfort in another man's arms.

What on Earth did Shira see in Saber that she loved so much?

She went on when he didn't say anything. "You could have your whole life ahead of you if you so chose. Please, Arthur..."

Saber's breath hitched in his throat, his head jerking up to stare into Shira's pleading brown eyes. This was the very first time she called him by his true name. He bit his lower lip, suddenly noticing how her face was only inches from his.

"Shira," he began, "you know what I must do. And I know that you could find someone...closer to home."

"I don't want someone closer to home." Her voice lowered to a whisper. "I want you."

They continued looking at each other, Saber wide-eyed and robbed of speech, Shira giving a small, genuinely warm smile. And before he could think of anything to say, she closed what little distance there was between them and kissed him.

There was nothing forceful or demanding about her kiss, only a light pressure on his mouth. Her lips were soft and gentle, allowing him the opportunity to back away if he wanted to. But Saber couldn't back away.

He fought in battles with the odds stacked against him without flinching. He went up against opponents much more powerful than him with his determination unwavering. He continued to fight even when sustaining injuries, even when people told him not to. And yet, this simple kiss shook him like nothing else did. It wasn't just because it was a kiss—it was who was kissing him.

This was the girl who treated him as a fellow human being instead of a weapon to be used and then discarded once an objective was completed. This was the girl who became so distressed over his wellbeing that she threw herself in the fray of battle in a fierce desire to protect him. This was the girl who so desperately urged him to reconsider his wish for the Grail, who declared her love for him and refused to run even with Gilgamesh threatening her maidenhead, who caused all the emotional armor he placed upon himself to crack without even trying.

She was idealistic to the point of naïveté. She was just as hardheaded and stubborn as he could be. She possessed a quiet beauty that made the loveliest British noblewoman look gaudy and artificial in comparison. A single touch from her was all it took for his heart to pound, for heat to rush to his face, and...and...

And he loved her.

Saber closed his eyes. I love her. Slowly, tentatively, he kissed Shira back. I love her. She took this as encouragement, pressing her lips more firmly to his. I love her. One of her hands moved to touch his hair, stroking it and causing him to shiver. I love her!

There was a part of him that wanted to wrap his arms around her and pull her as close to him as possible, wanted her to gasp against his lips, wanted her to call him by his real name again, wanted to just forget about everything and see what this kiss could lead to. The memory of accidentally walking in on her naked and the reaction his body had came to his mind in striking clarity; if that incident had temporarily awakened desires he thought were so contrary to his nature, then kissing her combined with the realization of his love for her only strengthened those desires.

But another part of him, the part not so overcome by emotion, knew what he had to do.

A small eternity seemed to pass before Shira ended the kiss and pulled away. Saber looked down at the floor for a moment, and when he looked up, his face was schooled into a mask of indifference.

"Perhaps you should have dinner now, Master." His voice was calm, as stoic as it ever was, as if the last few minutes or so had never happened.

Shira just blinked at him incredulously. "You mean we're not going to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?"

The redhead's jaw dropped. "But...but...I thought..."

Saber forced his voice to remain emotionless. "You thought what?"

Regardless of what they felt for each other, Saber knew he would disappear no matter how the Holy Grail War ended. What would happen to Shira once he was gone? If she loved him as much as she said she did, what would stop her from spiraling into depression? She would become a shell of herself, languishing over a man who left her behind.

In other words, instead of eventually breaking because of her ideals being shattered, Shira could break because of Saber.

He refused to let that happen. If he could make her hate him, make her believe that their kiss meant less than nothing to him, then she wouldn't miss him after his disappearance. She could forget about him, forget she ever loved him, and move on to a man who actually deserved her, who would never leave her.

Saber expected Shira to get angry, to yell and scream at him, to call him out on his blatant disregard for what they just did. Shira angry was so much easier to contend with, but the look on her face now wasn't anything close to anger, only confusion and hurt.

It was all he could do to keep his face blank when he saw tears at the corners of her eyes.

When she next spoke, her voice was impossibly small. "I...I'll get us something to eat, then."

Saber nodded coolly, and Shira walked past him and left her room, her head bowed and her shoulders slumped. After he knew she was out of hearing range, he allowed his act to drop, sighing heavily as pangs of guilt stung at him.

This was far from the first time he did not let any emotion cloud his judgment; it was the first time it had ever hurt like this.

Author's Note: Much of the dialogue in between Saber refusing Gilgamesh's offer and Shira insisting that she won't leave Saber (plus Saber's thought about Gilgamesh afterward) was actually written by my on-and-off Internet friend NewAgeOfPower. On James D. Fawkes' Creator's Room forum, in the thread titled "Miracle of Zero: Kingdom of the Forsaken [Contains Major Spoilers]," NewAge wrote a prototype first draft of the scene where Gilgamesh threatens to rape Shira; it's on page 67 if you want to read it.

And speaking of which, it's a good thing this fic isn't written in a visual novel format. Can you imagine the bad ending that would occur if Shira actually submitted to Gilgamesh? O_O

On another note, the part where Shira and Saber kiss was an absolute pain to write, and that's part of the reason why I missed the Sunday deadline. I must have rewritten it about three times before I was satisfied with it.

In summary, Gilgamesh is the Douchebag of the Year; Shira declares her love for Saber in a pretty tsundere-ish way, projects Avalon without realizing it, and takes one last stroll down Saber's Memory Lane; and Saber has his own love epiphany and carries out his "Break Shira's Heart to Save Her" plan (raise your hand if you don't think it will work).