Author's Note: Holy crap, it's been a long time! *breathes life into the fic* I am so, so sorry for pulling a disappearing act, but when real life is combined with a deadly case of writer's block, these things tend to happen. Luckily, I was finally able to finish this monster of a one-shot (and just in time to be an early birthday present to myself, too), and I hope it was worth the wait.
But I have to be honest—there were some days where I was working on this one-shot and thinking, Oh, my God, can't you just write yourself, you stupid fic?! So, even though I've spent the better part of a year on this, I'm sure there are spots that could've been improved upon. Just think of any less than stellar points in the one-shot as stemming from my grumpiness. :D
I would like to give a warm thank you to Ascarde (whose penname is Iryerris now), formerlyarandomreviewer, and Chaos Productions for their help and advice when I was banging my head against the wall over this one-shot. You guys are awesome!
Burning Angel Wings to Dust, Part Two
For Saber, sleep was almost on the same level as food in terms of importance, especially when on war campaigns. Without the proper amount of rest, one's body would not be in the condition required for combat, and even the most skilled warrior could fall in battle. However, sleep was eluding the knight for the moment, and as he lay on his futon, he found his gaze drifting to Shira, who was lying near him, dozing on her own futon.
She admitted a while ago that she didn't feel safe sleeping alone, so Saber decided to move his futon into her bedroom. At present, Shira's face appeared soft with relaxation, her mouth set in a neutral line; whether her expression was due to her light slumber or her relief at the promise Saber had made to her, he could not have said.
Either way, to see her relaxed was a far better alternative to seeing her depressed or anxious.
"No one deserves to be violated; you least of all," Saber said quietly. "To be forced into sexual intercourse against your will...it's something I would not wish on my worst enemy." A slight, mirthless smile crossed his face as a thought occurred to him. "It sounds odd to say, considering that my worst enemy would have to be Gilgamesh, but even so..."
There was no answer aside from Shira's low, even breathing.
Saber's smile faded, all attempts at dark humor abandoned. Once again, his Master had tried to protect him despite how unequipped she was to do so. He'd begged her to run and save herself, but she would have none of it. Unfortunately, even with mysterious healing abilities, a rape would be far harder to recover from than a gaping stomach wound.
At last, Saber resumed speaking. "You know, Shira, when you pushed me out of the way during my fight with Berserker that first night, I wondered why you would do such a thing. In time, it became clear that you would do anything to save me—save anyone—regardless of the risk to your own life. I still believe you should value yourself more, but in a way, I now find your selflessness to be..."
He allowed his voice to once again trail off, uncertain as to how he should finish that last sentence. The first word that came to mind was familiar—just as Shira resolved to live her life putting others before herself, Saber had willingly sacrificed his own wants for the good of his people—but the second was quite a bit more personal: endearing—tending to make dear...
...Or beloved.
Beloved, he thought numbly, recalling the unexpected warmth he'd felt when Shira asked him to be careful before his second battle with Assassin. At the time, he hadn't let himself dwell on these new...inclinations he'd been having towards his Master, but now that there was no fight for him to focus on, there was nothing stopping his mind from informing him of one single truth:
He was in love with Shira.
Saber didn't know when he'd begun thinking of her as more than just his naïve, confusing Master, but perhaps it did not matter when he'd fallen for her so much as the fact that he had.
And the fact that he had only made things far more difficult, even without the dilemma of whether or not he should give up his wish to change the past. Even if he lived long enough to defeat Gilgamesh and ensure that the golden king could never hurt Shira again, all the love in the world would mean nothing if he disappeared at the Grail War's end, leaving Shira alone to deal with the aftereffects of being raped.
But she wouldn't really be alone, would she? She would have Rin, at the very least, and Sakura, Taiga, and maybe even Ilyasviel, assuming she ever told them what had been done to her. Unlike Saber—who never told anyone about Morgan raping him out of a combination of shame that he hadn't been able to prevent it and fear that either he wouldn't be believed or he would be believed but also thought of as a weak-willed fool—Shira would have some kind of support system.
On the other hand, though, she might not see it that way, Saber thought, remembering how Shira's voice cracked as she begged him to not leave her and how her hold on his hand tightened in her desperation.
He let out a long, heavy sigh as he sat up in his futon, still gazing at Shira. "I do not deserve to be with someone like you, not as your Servant and not as your lover. I don't even know if I will be able to uphold my promise even if I do give up my search for the Holy Grail. But I swear to you I will do everything in my power to prevent Gilgamesh from ever laying a hand on you again."
Shira stirred, grunting, and her eyes fluttered open slightly. "Did you say something?" she mumbled, her gaze sleepy and unfocused.
Everything aside from "I love you." Three simple words, but could he say them? Were they what his Master needed to hear (assuming she was even awake enough to hear him), or would they be highly inappropriate, considering the ordeal she had suffered just a few hours ago? She said herself that she never expected him to return her feelings, so would she even believe him if he said he did?
Saber wrestled with himself for a moment; when he finally spoke, all he said was, "Just try to sleep if you can, Shira."
It was morning when Shira woke up from her dream of the final events of Saber's human life: the betrayal of his knights, the Battle of Camlann, his fight with Mordred, and the contract he entered into with the world. The images she had seen—images of war, death, and what Saber had been feeling at that time, from his rage at Mordred for the reminder of how the latter had been conceived to his overwhelming guilt and self-loathing as he lay dying beneath a tree—were grim, even heartbreaking, but she was almost grateful for them. After what happened last night, she didn't want to think of what her dreams would be like without her and Saber's connection causing her to dream about his past.
With a yawn, Shira sat up in her futon and stretched. Although she could now smell food coming from the dining room, she made no move to get out of bed; instead, she looked idly at the empty futon placed next to hers. Whether it was only out of obligation as her Servant or not, it had still been nice of Saber to stay with her as she slept. She wondered how many nights she would need his company, assuming they both survived the War.
She frowned as she at last got up to get dressed, deliberately forgoing her usual outfit in favor of the baggiest clothes she could find. Maybe it had been unfair of Shira to have Saber promise to not leave her. At the very least, it was undoubtedly selfish, since her desire for him to stay was no longer just because she wanted him to find happiness in the present, but even so, she couldn't really say she regretted what she did. However selfish it was, she needed Saber like she needed air to breathe. If her past experiences with trauma were any indication, her road to recovery would not be a short one, if it ever truly ended at all, but surely if Saber—someone who knew all too well the horrors of rape—was there to support her, it would make that road more bearable.
After getting dressed and grooming herself (doing her best to avoid seeing her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she did so), Shira headed to the dining room to find Saber and Rin sitting at the table, breakfast all laid out. Her Servant and her ally looked up as she entered, both wearing grave expressions on their faces. The redhead wondered if they'd been talking before she walked in, and if they'd been talking about her.
If either Rin or Saber noticed that Shira's body was practically swallowed by the loose-fitting shirt and pants she was wearing, they didn't say a word about it. Instead, Rin smiled politely and said, "Hello, Shira. I hope you don't mind that I made breakfast."
"You did?" Wasn't it my turn to cook today? Shira thought, biting her lip as her insides squirmed with guilt. "I'm sorry; I should've gotten up earlier. You didn't have to trouble yourself with breakfast, Tohsaka."
Rin dismissed her with a wave of her hand. "Oh, please. If you want to worry about anything, worry about yourself—after the night you had, no one's gonna blame you for being selfish for once."
"Uh...right," Shira replied uncomfortably. If only Tohsaka knew exactly how selfish I'm being. Without a word, Saber motioned for her to sit down; she took the seat next to him before taking note of the absence of a certain little girl and deciding that now was a good time to get off this particular subject. "Ilya's not eating with us again?"
"No," Rin told her. "When I checked up on her, she was still asleep, and her fever hadn't gone down. It's unfortunate, but not surprising."
"What do you mean?" Shira pressed, putting food on her plate and starting to eat.
"Remember when I thought that Caster was going to use Ilya as her sacrifice?"
"Yeah." A few nights ago, Caster planned to sacrifice a magus in order to call forth the Holy Grail; if Rin's immediate assumption that the purple-robed witch was going after Ilya had struck Shira as odd, then the revelation that Sakura—who, as it turned out, was biologically a Tohsaka herself—was the real target had initially been downright baffling. "I'm guessing you had more reasons to think that than just not wanting to believe your sister was in trouble?"
Rin nodded. "Caster said she figured out how the Grail works, so I assumed she knew that Ilya is the vessel to summon it. As such, Ilya's health will get worse and worse as the War progresses and her body is filled with the spirits of the eliminated Servants. Since there's only Saber, Lancer, and Gilgamesh left, it won't be long before Ilya will need to do away with her functions as a human being."
Shira's lips curled downward at Rin's words, and with that, conversation dried up as breakfast continued. It was only shortly after the meal was over and the table cleared that Saber decided to speak.
"Shira, before we focus on anything else in this War, I think that killing Gilgamesh ought to be our top priority," he said without any preamble.
And now we address the elephant in the room. If Shira was being honest, she'd rather not have to discuss Gilgamesh at all, but at least talking about how to kill him—and the fact that Saber specifically said "kill" rather than "defeat" did not go unnoticed by her—was much better than talking about how he'd raped her. "No complaints here," she admitted out loud, "but how exactly do you plan to kill him without getting yourself killed? We're talking about a man who doesn't have any weaknesses—all he has to do is use the Gate of Babylon and you're dead in less than a minute."
Saber paused. "His strength might be exceptional," he said slowly, "but I believe he does have one weakness—his pride. He has always held back in a fight, not due to any concern for his opponent or anyone else who gets in his way, but because he deems people unworthy of seeing him unleash his full power. Therefore, killing him requires ensuring that he underestimates me."
"Interesting idea, but the way I see it, it could only work if you had something to catch Gilgamesh off guard," Rin pointed out. "So unless you have a secret weapon on you that we're not aware of..."
When several seconds passed in silence, Shira let out a sigh and stood up from her seat. Looks like there's only one thing left to do. "I hate to say it, but I think we'll have to pay a visit to Kotomine."
After some more discussion, it was decided that Rin would stay behind at the estate to keep watch over Ilya, while Shira and Saber would go to the church to try to see if Kotomine had any advice to give them about their very half-baked plan to kill Gilgamesh. Presently, Master and Servant both were walking on the sidewalk outside the estate's walls, the latter still in the collared shirt, tie, and dress pants he used as his civilian garb and the former wondering how they could get to Kotomine Church without having to pass the park.
"Shira," came Saber's voice abruptly as he stopped his footsteps.
"What is it, Saber?" the redhead asked, following suit and turning around to face him. "Something else you want to talk about?"
There were so many things he wished to say, Saber reflected, a pensive, melancholy look crossing his features. He could apologize for everything—for what Gilgamesh did to Shira, for the likelihood that he would not be able to stay with her regardless of her hopes, for still wondering if he should persist in trying to obtain the Grail when she'd made it clear how much she needed him. He could assure her again that he would kill Gilgamesh for her sake. He could even muster up the courage which had failed him last night and tell her he loved her.
But instead, after a momentary pause, he asked something that he should have asked long before now: "How would you feel about having to face Gilgamesh again? Do you think you would have another attack?"
Upon hearing the question, Shira's expression became somber. Her Servant had doubtlessly not forgotten the time she had a PTSD-triggered flashback after he ended up dragging her to her hometown's ruins in his insistence that she let her recovering body rest. "Yeah, most likely."
"I admit that I would prefer you stay by me, but if you don't think you can handle—"
"No, it's fine," Shira interrupted, shaking her head quickly. "I mean, no, it's not fine, but...I'll have to see him again whether I want to or not, right? If we don't come to him, then he'll come to us. Besides, I think running away would be exactly what he'd expect of me. He seems the type to...well, get off on people being afraid of him." She grimaced at her own choice of words.
"Even so, Shira, your wellbeing is of importance to me," Saber told her. "If you feel you cannot see Gilgamesh without reliving last night, you can always return home after our meeting with Kotomine while I go after him myself."
"And do what? Sit there and worry myself to death over whether he'll kill you this time or not?" A lump formed in Shira's throat at the idea, but she forced herself to keep talking. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do that, no more than I could've left you last night. Like I said, staying away from Gilgamesh will make him think I'm too scared to face him, and that'll be like him winning all over again. He can't win again."
It wasn't rational, she knew. The logical thing—the smart thing—would be to do what Saber suggested: just go home and fervently hope he would make it back to her in one piece. And even if she went with him to confront Gilgamesh, there was little to nothing she could do against someone whose title was King of Heroes.
But Shira had already been rendered helpless by Gilgamesh once, and she couldn't stand the thought of letting him have that kind of power over her again in whatever way, shape, or form. If she accompanied Saber, then at least she could prove—to herself if no one else—that Gilgamesh hadn't broken her entirely, no matter how much it hurt her mentally in the process.
"Well said, girl," a voice suddenly piped up, startling both Shira and Saber. "Good to know you've still got some spunk."
They whirled around in the direction of the voice. There, standing several paces away, was a man dressed in a blue bodysuit, with a red spear casually held in the crook of his right arm and a lazy smirk on his face.
"Lancer!" Shira exclaimed.
Saber was in his armor in a flash, his sword in both hands as he charged forward with a yell. Lancer's smirk faded as he leapt out of the way, Gae Bolg now in his right hand. Saber turned around and was about to rush at his opponent a second time, Excalibur again poised to attack, when Lancer raised his free hand in the air.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" he said. "Would ya cool your jets, Saber? As much fun as it'd be, I'm not here for a fight—I'm here to help."
"You're here to help?" Shira repeated, not relaxing in the slightest.
"And what does that mean?" Saber, who hadn't lowered Excalibur at all, demanded harshly.
"It means," the spearman answered, quite unfazed by Saber's rudeness, "I'm offering to lend you a hand against that piece of shit that calls himself Gilgamesh."
"So you know—" Shira began.
"What he did to you?" Lancer cut her off. "Yep. Overheard him bragging about it last night."
"What?!" Saber and Shira said in unison, the former outraged while the latter was appalled. Who does that? the redhead thought, exchanging a glance with her Servant and feeling sick to her stomach. Who goes and rapes someone, then later on brags about it like it's something to be proud of?
Lancer gave a darkly amused grin. "That about sums up my reaction, too. So, if we all agree that King Asshole needs to go down—"
"Wait just one moment, Lancer," Saber interrupted. "My Master and I have not agreed to join forces with you. And why should we? As I recall, the last time we met, you were trying to kill Shira. How do we know you won't attack us as soon as we accept your offer?"
"If I was gonna attack you, would I be wasting time talking?" Lancer asked rhetorically.
Shira chewed on her lower lip; she had to admit that he had a point. She didn't know Lancer very well, but he struck her as the kind of person who preferred to communicate with weapons rather than words. On the other hand, though, he had tried to kill her, not just once, but twice. Was trusting him really a good idea?
At present, Saber's voice was stony as he made his next inquiry. "Tell me, has your Master ordered you to offer us your...assistance?" That last word was spoken with thinly veiled sarcasm.
Lancer scoffed. "My Master doesn't even know I'm here. Hell, you're welcome to kill him too while you're at it."
"Why?" Shira questioned.
"Let's just say I've had enough of him," was all Lancer said. "Anyway, how about it? Want to team up?"
"Absolutely not," Saber said immediately. "You claim to want to help us kill Gilgamesh for what he's done to Shira, but would you not agree that you are being very hypocritical?"
Lancer narrowed his eyes. "What the hell are you—"
But Saber, glaring right back, did not let him finish. "I am well aware of your legend, Hound of Ulster. Of particular note is the story of how you defeated a warrior woman named Aífe by claiming her horses and chariot had fallen over a cliff. You then overpowered her, put your weapon to her throat, and said you would only spare her if she would lie with you and bear you a son. She agreed, but only because she wanted to stay alive. As far as I'm concerned, that makes you no different from Gilgamesh."
"Hey, I gave Aífe a choice," Lancer snapped. "That's more than what the golden bastard did for your Master. Now do you want my help or not?"
Saber looked ready to argue his point further, but then he exhaled sharply, at last lowering Excalibur. "Regardless of my thoughts on your offer, it is not for me to decide whether or not we accept it. Shira," he turned to address her, "what do you think?"
Shira paused for a moment. Lancer was an enemy, true, and he was also apparently a rapist, according to Saber. She wished she could've said that that was enough to refuse his offer, but the fact of the matter was that their current adversary was Gilgamesh, the Servant who boasted about being history's oldest king, with all of the power and strength that it implied. Shira and Saber's plan of how to deal with such a Servant was wanting at best, so if Lancer was willing to help them, they really weren't in any position to turn him down.
"We'll have to work with him," Shira finally said. "Maybe it won't be enough, but at the very least, two Servants fighting against Gilgamesh is better than one."
Saber's mouth was set into a thin line. "Very well," he answered, nodding stiffly. He switched his gaze to Lancer and gave him another glare. "But if you lay a hand on Shira, I promise that you will be the next one I kill."
If either Saber or Shira thought that Lancer would be insulted by this, they were mistaken. His only response was to momentarily stare at Saber, smirk approvingly, and say, "I'd expect nothing less."
"He's in there?" Cold sweat formed on Shira's palms as she stared at Kotomine Church, and she clenched her hands into fists in an attempt to resist wiping them on her shirt. "Gilgamesh is in there?"
"He's in there, all right," Lancer confirmed grimly, "and so's his and my Master, Kotomine. Apparently, they've been working together for a while—if I'd known earlier than last night, I would've split sooner."
"What?" Shira whipped her head in Lancer's direction. "Kotomine is a Master? But he's the supervisor, he's supposed to—oh, never mind," she interrupted herself; now really wasn't the time to think about how the priest—whose role as supervisor of the Grail War meant he was supposed to be impartial—had gotten his hands on one Servant, let alone two. I don't even know why I'm surprised; nothing should surprise me anymore.
"Shira," Saber spoke up, his eyes narrowed icily as he looked at the church building several feet in front of them, "give me the order and I can slaughter Gilgamesh right now."
"Wait, Saber," Shira said. "Barging in there and getting into a fight right away might not be the best idea. I think we should go with what we were going to do—talk to Kotomine about how we plan to kill Gilgamesh."
"But I just told you they're in cahoots," Lancer reminded her. "No way he's gonna want to help."
"True, which is why Saber and I will only keep up the conversation for a few minutes or so. We'll wait for an opening, then you and Saber can attack Gilgamesh. Until then, Lancer, you shouldn't give Kotomine any reason to think you've teamed up with us."
Lancer grinned. "Whatever you say, girl." And with that, he disappeared into spirit form.
A moment of silence passed; neither Shira nor Saber resumed walking towards the church. At last, Saber turned to his Master, his expression softening with concern.
"Are you certain you will be all right?" he asked, coming back to what they'd been discussing before Lancer showed up. "You can stay outside if you want to; I can always tell Kotomine that I have come on your behalf."
Shira just eyed the church, her face set with a calmness she was determined to feel. "I'll try to be all right."
Without another word, the pair finally headed on to the church. The doors creaked as Shira opened them, and she and Saber entered the chapel. Just like when Shira visited two days ago, Kotomine was standing at the opposite end of the room. The redhead quickly scanned the chapel as she and Saber walked, but she didn't see any sign of Gilgamesh. Beside her, her Servant tensed as if readying for a fight.
"Back so soon, Shira Emiya?" Kotomine greeted smoothly after they reached him. He turned around to face them, his gaze drifting to Saber. "And with your Servant as well?"
"We have business to discuss with you," Saber informed him, his voice frosty. "I thought it only appropriate that I accompany my Master."
"We've come to talk about the eighth Servant," Shira said in a rush before Kotomine had the chance to say anything else. "We know his name now—it's Gilgamesh—he attacked us last night. Actually, he did worse than attack us, he...he..."
Raped me, was what Shira meant to say, but her voice, going faster than usual, did not seem to want to say those words. Her breath hitched, and she looked down at the floor, her throat tightening.
"He..." she began again, forcing herself to keep talking, "did something to me. Something very bad. He has to be killed—he has to." She sounded increasingly choked, and a burning sensation stung her eyes. "Is there any advice you can give us about how to kill him?"
For a long moment, no one spoke. Shira waited for Kotomine's response, blinking rapidly.
"You say the eighth Servant's true identity is Gilgamesh?" the priest asked, as calm as if they'd been discussing something completely mundane.
"Yes," Shira answered, looking up from the floor.
Kotomine sighed. "In that case, it's not very difficult to deduce what exactly he did to you last night. If you are familiar with Gilgamesh's legend, then you know he once made it a law that the brides of his kingdom were to surrender their virginities to him, whether they wished to or not.
"How distressing this must be for you, Emiya," he continued, stepping closer to Shira. "I can only imagine how traumatizing the incident was. A young girl like you having her innocence stolen by a man who believes all women belong to him...you have my deepest sympathies."
Shira gave an involuntary shiver. If it had been anyone else, what Kotomine was saying would have been a comfort to her, but since it was Kotomine telling her all this, it didn't feel comforting at all. Perhaps it was because his dark eyes showed nothing that even hinted at compassion, or because he still spoke as if the topic at hand was something far less terrible than her rape, or because she could swear his mouth was curling into a tiny, mocking smile.
Saber, who'd moved nearer to his Master after Kotomine had done the same, must have also sensed that he was being less than sincere. Glaring, Saber opened his mouth to speak, when a new voice broke in:
"Lying doesn't suit you, Kotomine."
It took everything Shira had not to gasp or cry out at the sound of that smug voice. With her teeth clenched, she turned to see Gilgamesh—who must have been in spirit form up until now—carelessly lounging in the front-row pew to their right. Each hair on the back of her neck stood on end, and her insides suddenly churned with nausea as memories of last night invaded her head.
Gilgamesh was laughing. She was bleeding. Saber was chained up and struggling.
"I can't have you dying. I want you fully awake as I take you."
Gilgamesh pulled the potion out from his vault. The liquid was forced into her mouth. Her vision blurred. Everything hurt. Everything hurt. Everything hurt.
Shira shut her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out the flashback. Not now, not now! she thought, trying to calm her racing heart. She didn't know when she had grabbed Saber's hand, but she found herself holding his gauntleted fingers in an iron grip.
"I would not call it lying, Gilgamesh," Kotomine was saying, "so much as telling Emiya precisely what she wants to hear." He returned his attention to Shira and Saber, smirking. "I would introduce you to the Servant I partnered with in the last War, but such a thing would be quite unnecessary."
"You!" Saber, who had been as still as stone ever since Gilgamesh's materialization, barked out, fixing the other Servant with his most venomous scowl. If it weren't for Shira's plan to wait for an opening first, Saber would more than likely have already rushed over to pummel Gilgamesh into the ground by now.
Gilgamesh got up from the pew, completely unruffled by Saber's reaction to him. "Still so hostile, boy? I would think last night would have curbed your defiance."
"If you believe violating my Master would make me yield to you, you're madder than I thought," Saber snarled.
"But then again," Gilgamesh continued, as though he hadn't heard a word of what Saber had said, "it wouldn't be any fun for me if you caved at once. I wonder, would a second round suffice? Or even a third?"
"You wouldn't dare!" Shira exclaimed immediately, dropping Saber's hand as her eyes flew open in terror.
Gilgamesh switched his gaze to her, a sneer playing on his lips. "Sorry, my little mongrel, but I have every right to have you in my bed whenever I desire it. As my bride and the mother of my child, you belong to me as much as Saber does."
Shira felt her face get hot, anger speedily replacing fear. "I'm not pregnant, you asshole!" she shrieked. "And like hell I'd marry you after you forced me—"
"What's this about force?" Gilgamesh interrupted, still speaking in that infuriatingly superior tone of voice. "I vividly recall you thoroughly enjoying being graced by the King, with all the moaning you were doing."
Shira flinched at those words as if she'd been slapped. Did...did he just...
"How is it force if you were the one who let me tear your clothes off and bury myself in you? How is it force if I gave you exactly what you wanted?"
All Shira could do was open and close her mouth, stunned into silence by the sheer insanity of Gilgamesh's little speech. What the hell...what did I just...but I didn't...I didn't want...
"You pox-ridden son of a—!"
"That wasn't what I wanted!" Shira suddenly exploded, cutting off Saber's furious insult and storming over to Gilgamesh as her body shook with rage. "You drugged me!" She punched him in the face, ignoring his grunt. "You drugged me and you raped me!" She punched him again. "YOU RAPED ME, YOU RAPED ME, YOU RAPED ME, YOU MONSTER, YOU RAPED ME!"
She heard nothing but the blood roaring in her ears and her three-word scream. She saw nothing but her fists as she hit every inch of Gilgamesh she could reach. The recklessness of what she was doing, the fact that no Servant would truly be hurt by her punches, the certainty that Gilgamesh would retaliate—all of it was completely, utterly meaningless compared to her burning desire to cause him as much pain as possible.
She yelled as Gilgamesh grabbed her by her scalp, but her fists still swung. Distantly, she heard rushing footsteps, and in the next instant, a hand took her by the shoulder, yanked her away, and threw her aside as easily as if she were a ragdoll. A scream escaped her throat as she hit a wall and crumpled to the floor, her vision exploding with stars and blurring with reflexive tears at the impact.
She heard two people bellowing. Through her pulsing headache and streaming eyes, she could just make out Lancer and Saber with their weapons out, running at Gilgamesh from different directions. Scores and scores of Noble Phantasms fired out of the Gate of Babylon, and the clanging of metal was heard as the projectiles were blocked, along with the sound of crashes as Gilgamesh's weapons ended up hitting pews, walls, the floor, or anything else that wasn't either of his opponents.
Amidst all the noise of the fight—the battle cries, the crashes, the clangs, the occasional grunts of pain—a thought slowly came to Shira's sluggish mind: Where did Kotomine disappear to?
As if in answer to her thought, a baritone voice rang out in the chapel.
"By the power of this Command Seal, I order you, Lancer, to kill thyself."
Shira gasped as her head shot up. Lancer went rigid at the command, and everyone else—Kotomine, who was next to the broken pieces of the altar with his back to Shira; Gilgamesh, whose Gate remained activated behind him; and Saber, who stood the closest to his Master in a crouching position, Excalibur still clutched in his hands—watched as he abruptly aimed Gae Bolg at his chest. After a few seconds in which Lancer tried to resist the Command Seal, struggling to move his spear in any other direction, he stabbed himself in the heart. Blood spurted from the wound and splattered onto the floor, and Gae Bolg fell from Lancer's grasp with a ringing clatter, the spearman himself following suit barely a second later.
"Damn...you...Kotomine!" Lancer cursed through raspy, uneven breaths.
"You should have thought of that before trying to betray your Master," Kotomine informed him coolly.
Shira stared as Lancer tried in vain to move from the bloodied ground he was lying on. It hadn't even been a quarter of a minute, and Ireland's Man of Light had been taken out with a single, fatal order via a Command Se—
Wait a minute, Shira suddenly thought, the gears in her head turning as all lingering effects from being thrown into a wall vanished. That's it!
With Kotomine and Gilgamesh's attention on the dying Lancer, Shira got to her feet and took Saber by the arm. "We need to leave—now," she said in a barely audible whisper. Without waiting for a response, she pulled Saber to the front of the chapel, passing the debris of broken pews as they went, and hurried through the still open doors as swiftly as possible.
"Shira, what were you—?" Saber began once they were at a safe distance from the church.
"I just got an idea," Shira interrupted, letting go of her Servant, "and no way was I gonna say it while Gilgamesh and Kotomine were around."
"An idea?" Saber repeated, blinking in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean," Shira replied, smiling for the first time since Saber gave her his word last night, "is that I think I know how you can kill Gilgamesh."
From its hiding place in her shirt, Rin's Azoth Dagger felt cold against the skin of Shira's back. Almost thirty minutes had passed since she and Saber left the Emiya estate, where they discovered that Ilya had been kidnapped and found Rin slumped against the dining room wall covered in her own blood. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Kotomine was behind the attack, and before Rin had passed out, she informed Saber and Shira that the priest had most likely taken Ilya to Ryudou Temple, the most ideal place for the Holy Grail to appear.
So here Shira and Saber were, at the bottom of the mountain's stairs. The temple, emanating an ominous red light, loomed in the distance, and the night air was thick with magical energy. In just a few more minutes, the confrontation between the last two Master-Servant pairs would take place. It was a battle that would determine the conclusion of the fifth Grail War, a battle that would end in either victory or defeat.
But before that battle could begin, Shira had to put her idea into action.
"Saber," she began, causing the blond to turn his attention to her. Without waiting for a response, she lifted her left hand up for Saber to see. On the back of her hand, her last Command Seal glowed. "Kill Gilgamesh."
Shira's hand burned for half a second, then the Command Seal disappeared. There was no surprise in Saber's expression, only a cold determination as his face hardened and his grip tightened on the invisible Excalibur's hilt. With those two words, Shira had granted her Servant the power he would naturally have had with someone like Rin as his Master, putting him on the level of excellence that the Saber class was known for. While the Command Seal's effect would not last indefinitely, the vague nature of the order meant that it would last far longer than an instant.
In any case, it ought to be long enough for the command to be carried out.
"Thank you, Shira," Saber said, his voice stoic. "With the power of your Command Seal, I assure you that Gilgamesh's death will be a certainty."
There was nothing Shira could think to say to that, so she merely nodded. A silence descended on the pair as they headed up the stairs. The concentration of mana became denser and more overpowering the further they went, and Shira felt an icy shiver run down her spine as her temples started beading with sweat. She'd sensed this kind of presence twice before with Rider; however, as unpleasant as Rider's magical energy had felt, it was downright friendly compared to the intensely malevolent, oppressive mana she was sensing now. The sensation was like being repeatedly stabbed with poison-coated knives, and Shira wondered what—or who—the mana was emitting from. Was it Gilgamesh, or even Kotomine?
At last, the top of the mountain was reached, and Shira could now sense that the mana—whatever its source—was coming from the back of Ryudou Temple.
"So, you're finally here. I was getting tired of waiting."
Bathed in the unnatural red light, clad in his golden armor, Gilgamesh stood at the center of the mountaintop. At once, images of the events leading to Shira's rape flashed into her head, and it was with all the willpower she could muster that she forced them aside. This was to be her and Saber's last battle; she couldn't allow anything to deter her, even her own mind.
"The time for the Holy Grail to appear is at hand." Gilgamesh gestured to the air around them. "This curse is the miracle you wished for, Saber—it's what makes it possible for a Servant to remain in this world." He barked out a malicious laugh. "Tell me, what will the look on your face be when I force the Grail's curse down your throat?"
Saber's only answer was a stony silence as he stepped forward and brandished Excalibur, releasing Invisible Air and revealing the sword in a flash of light.
Shira, meanwhile, had chosen that moment to run to the back of the temple, figuring it was where Kotomine had Ilya. She wasn't fast enough, though; she had barely gone more than half a dozen paces before Gilgamesh fixed his eyes on her—and in the next second had rushed towards her so that he was now in her face.
She only had time for a violent start before Gilgamesh grabbed her by her arm, smirking.
"Where are you going, woman? Your King hasn't give you permission to leave."
"Don't touch me!" Shira shrieked, fighting against Gilgamesh's vice-like hold on her.
Whatever he would have said to her remained a mystery, as Saber then charged forward, giving a swift, hard punch to Gilgamesh's face. The impact was enough for Gilgamesh to stagger back slightly, and Shira was able to tear away from his abruptly slackened grasp, shuddering and shaking.
"Shira, go!" Saber ordered after he jumped back to where he'd originally been standing, but he needn't have said anything; Shira wasted no time in hurrying away, rubbing at the arm Gilgamesh touched as if trying to rid it of a dirty stain.
After Shira was gone, Gilgamesh straightened up, seething, and Saber was pleased to see a bruise forming on the golden king's right cheek. One bruise is only the beginning.
"Striking the King is punishable by death," Gilgamesh said tartly. "You do realize I could easily kill you for that? I could kill her as well, for trying to assault me at the church, no matter how pathetic her attempt was. Be grateful that neither of you are any use to me dead."
Again, Saber merely responded with silence, but his expression spoke louder than words: furrowed brows, narrowed eyes, a tight-lipped frown. This was far from the furious rage he'd expressed during his last two encounters with Gilgamesh; this type of anger was one that froze rather than burned. And it was this type of anger that Saber would have to maintain, because there was no doubt that his foe would try to provoke him in an attempt to make him careless during their fight.
Carelessness was something he could not afford.
"What, no fiery retort? No insolent comeback?" Gilgamesh grinned in dark amusement, his offense at being punched apparently forgotten. "Have I frightened you into submission already, Saber?"
Without a word and with his expression unchanged, Saber got into a battle stance, Excalibur held out in front of him.
Gilgamesh's grin faded a bit. "No...judging from that look on your face, you still insist on defying me. You, a kitten who thinks he's a lion!" Behind him, the Gate of Babylon activated. "A servant must know his place," a sword was pulled from the vault, "and the time to teach you yours is now!"
Saber kicked off from the mountain floor and raced towards Gilgamesh, swinging Excalibur downward. As the knight got nearer to his opponent, Gilgamesh made to parry the blow with his own sword—
And his eyes widened in shock as Saber sliced through his sword and slashed at his armor.
Thanks to Shira's last Command Seal, Saber's endurance and agility had gone from a C rank to a B rank, his strength and mana had gone from B to A, and his luck had gone from B to A+. Gilgamesh hadn't foreseen the increase in Saber's abilities, so he could do no more than freeze as his sword broke in two and Excalibur delivered a long scratch on the gold metal of his breastplate.
But his surprise didn't last long; before Saber could attack again, Gilgamesh leapt back out of striking distance with a laugh.
"So! It would seem my bride is a clever one!" Saber gave a barely noticeable twitch at Gilgamesh referring to Shira as his bride, but otherwise made no response. "She used a Command Seal to give you a boost of power. How very unexpected. But no matter." Hundreds of Noble Phantasms crept forward from the Gate. "Try attacking me again when you have my treasures to contend with."
As if on cue, the Noble Phantasms—swords, axes, spears, and hammers—shot towards Saber with the speed of gunfire. At his usual strength, it would have been a rather alarming task to avoid being hit by even one of those weapons, but with the way he was currently empowered, it was easy enough to block and evade the torrent of Noble Phantasms coming for him. Even the occasional blade or lance that managed to strike true did nothing more than graze his armor.
Still, each second he spent dodging and parrying the seemingly limitless supply of weapons was just one more second that wasn't spent charging at Gilgamesh head-on and cutting him to bloody shreds. With every step forward he was able to take, he was forced to stop for too long a time or even take a couple of steps back because of a projectile suddenly flying at him.
Saber retreated slightly to catch his breath as the final Noble Phantasm was repelled, frustration bubbling within him even as the expression of arctic fury remained etched on his face.
"You're so intent on killing me, and for what?" Gilgamesh asked rhetorically, his voice as haughty as ever. "All for the sake of a woman I claimed as mine?"
Despite himself, Saber felt his body tense and heard a faint ringing in his ears. Don't listen to him, he thought sternly. Say nothing. Flying into an unbridled rage is what he wants. Don't give him what he wants.
"Really, Saber, if you're so angry about me deflowering your Master, you have no one to blame but yourself."
Saber's insides were twisting. Ignore him.
"If you truly wanted to stop me, all you had to do was bow to me. All the pleasures of the world would've been yours. The Grail would've been yours. But instead, you refused the honor of servitude I so graciously offered."
Saber looked down at Excalibur to hide the grinding of his teeth, and he noticed his hands trembling on the hilt. Ignore him.
He could almost hear the sneer in Gilgamesh's voice. "Does your obstinate pride mean that much to you? You would rather let me force your Master to be delirious with passion as I ravish her than sink to your knees and call me your King?"
His words mean nothing. His Noble Phantasms hurt worse than this. Just ignore him.
But Saber's thoughts were becoming feeble, less convincing. Slowly but surely, the ice he had so firmly encased his emotions in was cracking, and a terribly heated mixture of anger and guilt was determined to seep in.
"If you were as foolish during your reign as you were last night, then it's no surprise you lost control of Britain," Gilgamesh taunted. "Your people weren't being ruled by a man—they were being ruled by an emasculated eunuch. Isn't that right, Arthur?"
Saber's head snapped up, his face contorted with loathing.
With a primal, animalistic scream ripping from his throat, he kicked off from the ground and rushed blindly towards Gilgamesh. Excalibur was raised over his head, glowing with mana as it waited for its true power to be unleashed. He could see the Gate of Babylon shimmering, but he didn't care. Gilgamesh could release another rain of weapons or even pull out Ea, it made no difference.
All Saber cared about was fulfilling Shira's command.
"EX—"
He swung downward.
"—CALI—"
But before he could finish, a huge wave of black abruptly came coursing through their battlefield, and Saber was drowned in darkness.
Shira froze in her tracks with a horrified gasp once she made it to the back of the temple, her stomach suddenly lurching.
Up in the blood-red sky hung a huge, dark void where the moon ought to be. The void was dripping with black, tarlike mud that slowly fell in globs into the water of the nearby lake and in the grass, staining and polluting whatever it touched. Was this the so-called Holy Grail? Was this evil, foreboding thing the legendary, wish-granting relic that magi had caused so much bloodshed over time and time again?
But as terrible as what appeared to be the true nature of the Grail was, there was something else that caused fear and revulsion to surge through Shira's veins.
An unconscious Ilya was hanging from the edge of the void, her head lolled on her chest and her arms spread apart as if she were being crucified. And from where Shira was standing, she could see that there wasn't a single stitch of clothing on the girl's prepubescent body. Oh, dear God!
"Kotomine!" the redhead screamed, turning her gaze furiously to the priest, who was standing with his back to the void.
"Ah, Emiya." The corners of Kotomine's lips curved upward in an amused smirk. "The last surviving Master has arrived. But should you really have come here in your delicate condition?"
Shira did not rise to the obvious bait. "What the hell did you do to Ilya?! Let her go, you filthy pedophile!"
Kotomine was unfazed by her accusation. "Now, Emiya, you shouldn't be so hasty. I have not touched the girl, and the removal of her clothes was not my doing. If you must blame something for that, blame this mud. It is the contents of the Holy Grail, an enormous amount of power that curses everything in this world. If anything, the fact that the vessel has had only her clothes destroyed upon making contact with the Grail's mud shows how resilient she is.
"As for your demand that I let her go," Kotomine went on, "I cannot do that. The Holy Grail may have materialized, but the portal is far from stable. My wish will not come true unless the vessel bears this until she dies. I suggest you leave now, Shira Emiya, if you want to live. But if you insist on staying and falling into hysterics like you did at the church, you will leave me no choice but to kill you."
That bastard! Shira's body tensed as she clenched her jaw. "I'll show you hysterics!"
And with that, Shira hurried forward, her eyes not straying from Kotomine. Snakelike tendrils of mud leapt up on their own accord and shot towards her, and she swiftly evaded the mud, paying little attention to where it landed as she continued closing the distance between her and her enemy. A large, tentacle-like glob of sludge was thrown at her face, and she stopped momentarily, ducking to avoid it, already prepared to resume running.
But the instant before she could do just that, another black tendril shot forward, wrapping itself around her arm. Shira opened her mouth in a scream at the burning pain that lanced her arm the second the mud made contact with her. She frantically shook the sludge off of her and cradled her burned arm, the pain thankfully lessening already.
Kotomine chuckled. "Defeated so soon? I would expect more from Kiritsugu Emiya's daughter. Unless, of course, he didn't bother teaching you anything."
Shira looked up, her brown eyes flaring with hatred as she glared at the priest. "Don't you dare talk about my father!" she snarled.
"But now that I mention it," Kotomine continued, ignoring Shira's demand, "I have to wonder what Kiritsugu would think if he could see you now."
"That's none of your damn business!"
Again, Shira was ignored. "Do you honestly believe he would be proud of you, an amateur magus who got in over her head in her single-minded pursuit of a borrowed dream?"
Shira gritted her teeth even as she felt her insides constrict. She didn't know what was more infuriating: Kotomine bringing up her father's possible opinion of her in the first place, or the fact that every word he was saying was like a blade to her heart. "Didn't I just say—" she began hotly.
"What would he say if he knew," Kotomine interrupted, his voice rising over hers as a truly cruel grin split his face, "that his daughter had become a king's whore?"
And with those last two words, Shira snapped.
A distant pounding was heard in her ears, her vision flooded with crimson, and only two words were roared from her mouth:
"SHUT UP!"
She jumped to her feet and raced forward. More tendrils of mud rose up to attack, but she dodged them with renewed speed. The Grail's mud didn't matter. Its potency didn't matter. Its potential for destruction didn't matter.
The only thing that mattered was one single thought, repeating over and over in Shira's head until she could think of nothing else:
He has to die.
Kotomine swung a fist at her face once she got within his range, but she dodged that, too, hurrying towards him and grabbing the Azoth Dagger from her shirt as she did. Without wasting any time, she thrust the dagger through his clothes, through his flesh, and into his heart.
"Läβt!" She stabbed him again. "Läβt!" And again. "LÄβT!" And again.
With every shouted läβt, mana poured into the dagger. Kotomine gaped wordlessly, his eyes wide, and Shira moved to stab him again—
But at that very moment, the mud of the Holy Grail erupted.
Kotomine, the void, Ilya, even the ground, they were all engulfed in a sudden flood of black tar. Shira screamed as her vision filled with the accursed sludge—but only for a second; the mud passed over her as harmlessly as water, as though a barrier was shielding her.
The same could not be said for anything else it touched, however.
Before Shira could call out for Ilya, a horribly familiar smell caught her nose. No...no, not here...please, please, not here! she thought, her body going rigid as she broke into a downpour of a sweat. The smell was bitter, pungent, acrid. The smell strangled the air away from her lungs, and it made breathing all but impossible.
It was the smell of smoke.
It was the smell of fire.
Turning around only confirmed what Shira's senses had already told her. The tall, orange flames pointed skyward, loudly crackling as they consumed the grass, the dirt, the trees, and Ryudou Temple as mercilessly as the fire ten years ago consumed her hometown.
Issei...his father...all the monks...
Everyone living at the temple would have fallen asleep at this hour, but surely the fire would've woken them up. Or would it? What if they were still asleep, blissfully unaware that they were in very real danger? What if they were awake, but were trapped with no way out?
If no one helped them—if no one saved them—they would die.
Everyone living there would die.
Without another thought, Shira covered both her mouth and nose and retraced her steps as hurriedly as she could, yelping at the burns the mud inflicted on her feet and trying to move on her toes in a vain attempt to prevent as much pain as possible. Amongst the fire that burned all around her and the smoke that threatened to choke her, she heard screaming from where she'd left Saber.
Having a sudden mental image of Gilgamesh repeatedly stabbing Saber, Shira ran to the front of the blazing temple, stopping at a part of the ground that looked to be the least effected by the sludge. But when she saw what was going on, she almost wished she hadn't looked.
Looming before a fallen, bloodied, dismembered Gilgamesh was a dark figure holding an equally dark sword. The swordsman's armor and clothing were entirely black, as black as the mud still spilling through the area. The sword was black as well, and the blade and hilt glowed with red runes. The swordsman's face was as pale as death, and his tousled hair appeared to be white blond. He looked every bit like a god ready to smite the lowly heathen at his feet.
It was as though the universe had been ripped out from under Shira's feet. Because even as changed as he was, she knew who the swordsman had to be.
It was Saber, corrupted by the Holy Grail.
Author's Note: Aaaaaaand we are done! If you've made it this far, I commend you. :)
Having an Alter version of F/GR's Saber was formerlyarandomreviewer's idea. My original plan was to somehow have Saber survive the Grail War and stay with Shira, but it was basically impossible for me to come up with a way to pull it off without resorting to deus ex machina. So therefore, we got Male!Saber Alter, or Proto Alter, as formerly calls him.
I don't know when the next update will be posted, but hopefully the wait will be a lot shorter than a year. In fact, I even have a basic idea for the next one-shot: Saber plans for his second date with Shira to be perfect, but he never thought to watch out for Murphy's Law.