.
.
"Kirei," Tokiomi said. "What do you know about the Master and Servant pairings of this war?"
Kirei pulled out a stack of papers.
"Kayneth El-Melloi Archibald. A nobleman of the Magus Society and Master of Rider. Has no wish, only seeks the Grail to bring him glory and renown.
Ryuunosuke Uryuu. the Serial Killer of Fuyuki and Master of Caster. He doesn't even understand what the Grail is, he is just using it so he can continue killing people.
Waver Velvet. University Student and Master of Lancer. He too seeks the Grail to further his reputation, but he is far less capable or competent than Kayneth. In fact, his Servant recently got done in by his own Noble Phantasm."
"Rather inexperienced, isn't he?" Tokiomi said. Kerei smiled, thinly.
"Indeed."
In the Einzbern castle, Kiritsugu was also assessing the Masters.
"The best course of action is to let Berserker take on Caster, after which the winner will go after Archer or Rider," Kiritsugu said. "It seems as though Assassin was killed, but I suspect it was for show. Keep a lookout, Maiya. That Servant may very well appear later in this war."
"What about Lancer?" Maiya said.
"Lancer recently injured himself with his own Noble Phantasm. Quite frankly, he is not worth wasting our efforts on. They will likely do themselves in soon enough."
In the Mackenzie's backyard, Waver was dragging a large rock in the center of the lawn.
"My lord, may I ask what this is for?" Lancer said. He had brought the rock for Waver from a quarry on the outskirts of the city. It was rather large, almost the same size as Lancer's torso, and though he really didn't need the use of his fingers to help carry it, he did have some difficulty transporting it across the town.
"I'm going to use this to break your spear," Waver said. He hefted it at the center of an incantation circle and tossed a coin-sized crystal of mana at the center. "I'm going to strengthen this rock, and then you're going to smash your spear against it. Easy peasy. I'm pretty sure this will work."
"I see," Lancer said. Another spark of mana. The rock glowed, softly.
"Okay," Waver said. He dusted off his hands. "So just materialize your spear and break it over this rock. I've increased the hardness so that it's ten times as hard as a diamond. If this doesn't break your spear, nothing can."
"Understood," Lancer said, and he gripped the golden spear in his right hand.
Clang! The spear banged into the rock and snapped back up into Lancer's face.
"What the-" Waver jumped forward. "You did not just cut yourself again! Oh my god!" Waver said.
"What do you see?" Tokiomi asked Kirei. They were spying on them through Assassin. Kirei's mouth thinned.
"Lancer just injured himself again with his spear."
Tokiomi arched an eyebrow.
"Well Maiya?" Kiritsugu said, as they looked at the video feed. "Do you still believe we should target them?"
Maiya stood behind Kiritsugu. On the monitor, the young man was yelling at his Servant, his face contorted like a fish and gesturing wildly.
"I do not," Maiya said, and she watched as the Servant meekly pressed a gauze to the cut on his head.
"Bullets are resources and we have precious few."
xXx
.
Diarmuid watched, heart in his throat, as his Master paced back and forth in the darkness. Diarmuid kneeled, his left knee and injured arm pressing into the wet grass, silently swallowing back his shame as his Master cursed to himself and held his head in his hands.
"If only I didn't suck as a Master-" and Diarmuid jerked his head up, startled, "-you wouldn't even be in this mess, Lancer!"
Diarmuid's eyes widened.
My lord. He blames himself!
"Ugh! It's just so frustrating!" Waver said. "Why did I even think I could command a Heroic Spirit, anyway? You're a knight, and look where I've gotten you!"
All at once, the shame he felt had dissipated. His lord needed his strength most of all.
"My lord-" Diarmuid shook himself, still reeling from the shock. "My lord, it is not as you think-"
"I suck is what I think. My Servant is injured and I can't even heal him!"
"But this wound is a result of the curse of my spear! No magic can lift it! But I thank you for trying."
"But...but..."
"My lord, worry not! For I am a Heroic Spirit. The loss of one arm will not so easily slow me!"
"Lancer," Waver said, and Diarmuid stood in front of him, strong and proud, the confidence in his expression bolstering him.
"Take heart, my lord," Diarmuid said. "It was by my folly alone that I got so injured. You trusted in my abilities and I had let you down. On my honor, I will do my utmost rectify that. Please put your trust in me again!"
They went to the kitchen. Waver sat at the table and watched, frowning a little as Lancer fumbled with a teacup. He had insisted he make his Master tea, nevermind that Waver could make his own damn tea and the Mackenzies could walk in at any moment. But Lancer had insisted. "I only wish to show you I am still capable of handling things," Lancer had said. Now Waver watched as Lancer shakily tried pouring tea, the stream of liquid occasionally missing the teacup and pudding around the tray. Lancer frowned, blew on his lock of hair, and stuck a stack of napkins on it to mop the excess liquid.
"You know you don't have to do this, right?" Waver said.
"I only wish to prove my usefulness, my lord." He managed to finishing pouring the tea, but when he set it on the tray, his hand tipped. Waver watched, dull-eyed and frowning, as Lancer instinctively threw out his gimpy left hand to catch it, only to knock the teacup off the tray, shattering it on the floor and spilling hot tea all over the linoleum.
"Er, well...this is not a reflection on how I wield my weapons," Lancer said.
Waver sighed loudly, then put his head down on the counter.
xXx
.
There was a boy in a church. Pale skin and dark eyes, kneeling.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last confession..."
A rap against his knuckles.
The boy was sitting with other boys, writing from a scroll. He was using his right hand. His left hand was lashed onto a chair.
"Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been six days since my last confession..."
Nuns whispering to each other. "Look not upon his face, for his is the face of temptation and evil."
A switch against his arm.
The boy was kneeling on gravel stones. His legs and knees were raw. A rosary was twined around his hands. There were cuts and bruises along his knuckles.
"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been eight days since my last confession..."
He took a sword in his left hand.
No one noticed, when he held two swords, that the stance he took favored his left.
A man gave a Sermon. "And he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, 'Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world..."
No one noticed, when he wielded two spears, that the stance he took favored his left.
"Then shall he say also unto them on the left hand, Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting fire..."
The woman, Grainne, kissed his left hand. Her lips brushed softly against the scars on his knuckles.
xXx
.
What was that? A dream? Lancer's memories? Waver opened his eyes.
It was still dark in his room, and quietly Waver sat up and pushed his bedspread down around his knees. To the casual observer, it would seem that Waver was alone in his room, but he knew Lancer was resting in spirit form: once Waver was certain Lancer's wound wouldn't hemorrhage more mana, he let Lancer go into spirit form to better recuperate. "Don't shift back unless I need you," Waver had told him, and Lancer dutifully obeyed.
Waver rolled his neck, feeling the stiffness of his shoulders, and looked silently out the window. He knew all about Lancer's curse, his ill-fated romance with Grainne, the betrayal of his lord and his death because of it. But he had no idea about him being left-handed. He had read before that being left-handed was evidence enough to condemn a woman to death for being a witch. That Lancer was also left-handed, but also suffered the curse of his love spot, boggled his mind.
No wonder he's so hung up on his chivalry, Waver thought. When the world thought you were evil, wouldn't it make sense to try to do more good?
Lancer was changing the dressings around his arm. Waver watched as Lancer quietly peeled off the gauze, bits of dried blood pulling from the wound and causing fresh places to bleed and ooze.
"Ne, Lancer. You can use swords, right?"
"Of course." Lancer placed a strip of thick cotton padding over the cut, then began wrapping his arm with gauze. "Moralltach and Beagalltach were the names of my swords."
"Huh." Waver frowned. "You don't have access to them because you're a lancer, right?"
"Unfortunately not," Lancer said. "A sword would be easier to use with one hand. A shame I was not summoned as a Saber."
His left hand was in his lap. Waver hadn't noticed it before, but when he looked closer, he could see pale white scars crisscrossing Lancer's knuckles.
The package came two days later.
"My lord, what is this?" Lancer said, lifting up the package. Waver handed him the scissors and was pleased to see Lancer using them, expertly.
"Just open it," Waver said, and Lancer gave him a puzzled look, before using the edge of the scissor blade to cut through the tape.
"My lord!" Lancer's face brightened as he lifted the sword out from its casing, Styrofoam peanuts dropping on the floor as he pulled it out of the box. "Is this...is this for me?"
"Yeah." Waver rubbed his neck, frowning. "It's a Spanish rapier, uh, one of those basket-hilted swords? I did some research and I read they're pretty good for thrusting, which I figured you'd like, since you use spears and everything. Um." Waver frowned. "I pretty much blew my entire savings on this, so if you don't like you're just gonna have to deal with it."
Lancer turned the sword over in his hand. The hilt of the rapier fit over his hand perfectly. The thin blade gleamed, brightly.
"My lord..." Lancer seemed touched. "I am unworthy of such a gift," Lancer said.
"O-oi! Don't get the wrong idea!" Waver said. "It's not very useful having a Servant who can't fight!"
He watched as Lancer picked the sword up in his non-dominant hand. He swung it expertly, the long blade perfectly arcing through the air.
"You can use it to fight, but you won't be able to charge it with mana," Waver said. "If you need to use any special moves you'll still have to materialize your spears."
"I shall remember that." Lancer gave one experimental thrust, then lowered his guard. "I thank you, my lord. I only hope that I am worthy enough to live up to such a gift."
Lancer's eyes were shining. Waver blushed and glared.
"Just try not to stab yourself and we'll call it even," Waver said.