Is Also My Enemy
"With pleasure," Archer growled, before slamming her sword back into its sheath. With one smooth motion, she drew, and one of her blades hurtled through the air at the bronze-armored woman.
Rider leapt to the side as she parried, abandoning her assault on Berserker to focus on the Servant attacking from behind. It was a mistake – Berserker was at her side in an instant, steel clanging against bronze as the larger woman slammed her shield into Rider's. The redheaded servant staggered back, catching her footing just in time to dodge beneath another flying blade. Whirling on her feet, Rider danced backwards, sword and shield whipping back and forth as both Archer and Berserker hammered her defenses.
"What are you doing, Weiss?" Jaune shrieked, staring wide-eyed at the female magus.
Weiss ignored him, keeping her sword levelled at his chest while she looked at Blake from the corner of her eye. "What's your answer? Temporary truce until Rider's out of the running?"
Blake just stared at the other girl. "Someone shows up to help you and the first thing you do is turn on him?"
"The enemy of my enemy is also my enemy," Weiss recited grimly, mouth pressed in a tight, angry line. "Frankly, I trust your abilities far more than his."
The air whistled as Rider swung for Berserker's neck, only for the blonde servant to knock the blow aside with her bracers. Leaping forward, the Norse hero brought her shield down behind the hoplite's, hooking the edges together and yanking back. Pulled off-balance, Rider just managed to dodge as Archer cleaved down with both hands. Going with the momentum, she managed to break away from the shield-lock, looking up just in time to see a red-eyed Berserker slam a gloved fist right into her nose.
Gift horses, Blake reminded herself, racking the slide of her pistol. "... deal."
She could hear the blonde boy gulp, even over the ringing of steel on bronze behind her. Clawing against the ground, he scrambled to his feet, lips already forming the words to another incantation.
Holding out her hand, Blake whispered the five syllables she needed to call her mentor's sword. With a slight hiss, the air displaced, and the blade fell into her waiting palm.
Refusing to waste so much as a second, she fired, sending Adam's sword flying through the air hilt-first and shattering the feeble shield Jaune barely managed to cast in time. He made it halfway through another spell before another blast of ice slammed him backward, tumbling head over heels towards the fenced-off edge of the field.
"Jaune!" Rider cried, trying to make a break for her master. She made it a foot before Berserker moved in front of her, eyes glinting with bloodlust as she swung punch after punch at the Greek hero.
Catching Berserker's eye, Archer fired another shot at Rider, then turned, whipping out a second blade and sending it flying at the blonde servant.
With the grace of a professional, Rider cut the first red blade out of the air, leaving the crimson shards to scatter and dissolve as the magic binding it together faded. Seeing the second shot, Rider stepped aside to let the blade hit its mark. If Archer wanted to try to take Berserker out at the same time, she wasn't about to stop her. Not if it gave her a chance to get between the two other mages and Jaune.
Teeth bared in a feral snarl, Berserker swung her shield and knocked the second blade aside, the shot ricocheting off into the night...
And catching Rider in her unarmored thigh.
Jaune's eyes flew to the redheaded Servant as she fell to one knee with a quiet grunt of pain.
This wasn't right. This wasn't the plan. Weiss was supposed to realize the advantage of teaming up against an opponent. They were supposed to take out Berserker together, as a team, fighting side-by side.
Instead, his side ached where Weiss' ice had struck him, sending him flying into the wire fence ringing the field. Holding onto the fence, he pulled himself to his knees, watching as the two other Servants hammered away at Rider.
There was no way to win this.
Swearing, Jaune slammed his fist into the dirt. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Weiss was supposed to ...
Dammit.
"Rider!" he called, struggling to find his footing as Weiss sent another blast of ice hurtling towards him.
The Greek warrior caught his eye. Dodging another of Archer's downward cuts, she spun away, putting both enemy Servants behind her as she crouched in a runner's stance.
"Dromeus Cometes!"
Mana surged around her as she called on her Noble Phantasm, giving her a golden glow that clung to her armor. Heedless of the danger, Berserker leapt into the air, using gravity to throw more force behind the blow as she swung her the reinforced edge of her shield down at the back of Rider's neck. The hoplite tensed for the blow-
And vanished.
Berserker's shield hit the dirt as Rider flew forward, legs pumping too fast for Jaune's eyes to follow. In an instant, she was on him, grabbing him under the arms and lifting him onto her shoulders. Slowing just long enough to dodge the round fired from Blake's scabbard, she turned and bolted from the field, carrying her master off towards the twinkling lights of the city.
With a blood-curdling roar, Berserker yanked the shield from her arm, gripping it with the other hand. Teeth bared, she spun to the side, and threw.
The shield flew straight and true, slamming into Rider's back before bouncing up into the air. The red head staggered forward, barely keeping ahold of Jaune, and caught herself with one hand. Sparing one measured look behind her at the two Servants, her aura pulsed, and she vanished in a cloud of dust.
Blake cursed as their surprise guest beat a hasty retreat, the barrel of her weapon still pointed at the place Rider had been standing. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, the way it always did in combat.
Weapon at the ready, she slowly turned to Weiss, watching as the white-haired mage walked across the field to join her red-clad servant. Berserker was still standing in place, the red fading from her eyes as she moved to put herself between Blake and the others.
"Back to our duel then," Blake said quietly, fingers tensing around the scabbard. If she could manage to get off a shot, even if Archer dodged it, it might give Berserker enough time to-
"No." Weiss shook her head. "I meant what I said. If you're willing, I'd be happy with a temporary truce. At least until Rider is gone."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why not accept his help?" It didn't make any sense. Berserker had been completely on the defensive when Rider showed up. Weiss could have easily used the chance to have Archer eliminate either her or Jaune, or at least try to threaten them into giving up their command seals. But giving away that chance ... she just couldn't understand it.
Weiss was still for a moment, before whispering a few words and letting her rapier fade from her hand. "I don't like underhanded tactics, Belladonna," she said, dusting her hands before finally meeting Blake's gaze.
"He interfered in a perfectly fair fight. He had it coming."
"What the hell is wrong with her?" Jaune barely managed to keep from screaming.
They'd almost made it to the city before Pyrrha stopped, coming to a halt in an abandoned park. Collapsing into one of the molded plastic benches, Jaune put his face in his hands and groaned.
He'd failed. Again. He'd done everything right, planned everything down to the last detail, figured out the best way to defeat the enemy Master who had tracked him and Weiss down. They'd waited until just the right moment, right when there was no chance Berserker could escape. It would have worked!
And Weiss had betrayed him.
"Winter's sister?" Rider asked, her voice quiet.
Looking up, Jaune watched as the Servant sat down beside him, armor clinking as she moved.
He nodded, staring down at his knees. "We came there to help her. I said we were there to help her. Why would she ..." he trailed off, hands balled into fists. It should have worked.
"Jaune, why did you want me to protect her?"
"My grandfather made a deal with their father when I was three. She was eight. The Arcs and the Schnee were old ... I'm not sure you'd call them friends, but they weren't on bad terms. Our ancestors created this ritual, together with the Einzberns. Whatever our disagreements, the Schnee family didn't want to see our magics just fade away into nothing."
"My entire life I've been told that I have to marry Winter," he sighed. "That it's my obligation to follow through on our parents' agreement."
"And you don't want to?"
"Would you?" he asked, looking up at the bronze-clad servant. "She's always in a foul, awful mood, lashing out at anyone within reach. I can't remember ever seeing her smile, and whenever I try anything – a spell, a ritual, hell, even a sport – she points out every little thing I'm doing wrong, and makes it a point to tell me why even bothering to try is a complete waste of time."
"The worst part is," he mumbled, dreading the idea of explaining how he'd managed to lose to her sister. "She's usually right."
"Then don't marry her."
He gave a weak, hopeless sort of laugh. "If I want to save my family's magic, I don't have a lot of options." Growing up, he'd hoped one of his sisters might turn out to be a late bloomer. That puberty or hormone shifts might bring out a latent talent for the art. It happened sometimes – from what he'd read at least. One of the most powerful mages in the Association hadn't cast a spell until he was sixteen.
Jaune hadn't been so lucky.
He ran a hand through his hair, staring blankly at the gravel path. "I thought about suggesting an alliance to one of the mages in London, out of the Mages' Association, but our magic's not strong enough anymore to interest one of the major families. I even tried to apply for training at the Clocktower academy, just in case, but I failed the practical exam."
"My only choices are Winter or Weiss. And whatever anyone says about Weiss, at least she's ... she's not cruel. Prickly, sure, but she doesn't belittle people just because she can. She puts on a hard face, but she's actually pretty kind when she thinks no one's watching."
"Plus, she's gorgeous and I really do like her. I'd give anything for her dad to have sent Weiss and not Winter. I just ... I need to make her understand how I really feel about her. If I can just do that, I know she'll change her mind about me. And if I can win the Holy Grail ..." Heat rose in his face. It was a dumb, stupid, romantic idea. "Well, legendary magical artifacts probably go a long way to impressing a girl."
His voice trailed off as he ran out of things to say. Things that he'd never said to anyone, ever. It was as if something had broken the dam he always kept up around Winter, letting all the frustration, the humiliation, the desperate anger, come pouring out.
He looked up as a hand rested on his shoulder. Achillea was staring back at him, compassion in her eyes, mouth pressed in a small, sympathetic smile.
"Jaune, there was a woman I knew once." She spoke slowly, weighing each word before she spoke. "Penthesilea. She was an Amazon, and just watching her in battle ... she moved and fought with a grace I could only envy. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and a warrior I simply had to fight."
"You fell for her."
"A stone would have fallen for Penthesilea."
"What happened?" Jaune said, his voice soft. He knew the story, but ... well, Achilles had been a man in those tales. Even if that was the only thing they'd gotten wrong, he could think of three or four different versions off the top of his head, and ten-to-one, none of them were the complete truth.
A faraway look came into Rider's eyes. "We dueled. I was so enamored with her that I found myself paying attention to the way she moved and the toss of her hair, not the tip of her spear."
"And?"
"We were at war, and she was the enemy." Achillea sighed, and rubbed her hand across her eyes. "I put aside my passions and killed her, just as she would have done to me. It was only later that I learned she had come to the battlefield looking to die, wanting to atone for causing the death of her friend."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. It couldn't have ended any other way." She sighed and leaned back against the bench. "Jaune, that girl has her own reasons to joining this war. If it comes down to it and you have to choose, which matters more? Her life, or winning the Grail?
"You're saying we have to kill her?" Jaune swallowed. If it came down to it, if he had absolutely no choice ...
"That's not ... what I am trying to tell you, is that we can be so consumed with our passions, our dreams, that we fail to see how they put us in harm's way." Pushing off the bench, she stood, leather and bronze creaking. Turning to face him, she held out her hand and pulled him to his feet.
"I understand that you care for this girl, but at least for now, she is an enemy. She has her own wish for the Grail, and even if she had accepted your help, only one of you can have your wish granted. Forget that, and we are both going to end up dead."
Writer's Note: So that was fun. So far these have been pretty easy to bang out in the space of a couple days. Anyway, please leave a review if you can - it always makes my day to see 'em.