It began first as a sputter, then a cough before it opened up into a full-throated roar as the engines came to life, the noise drowning out anything that wasn't being piped through my headset. I waited for a minute as propellers came up to speed before I looked over at the dials on the left engine, then the right. Once I had confirmed everything was within acceptable ranges before I keyed my microphone. "Both engines are warmed up and everything's nominal," I announced. "Request permission to, uh…" I looked up ahead at the launch cradle positioned up ahead. "...taxi, I guess?"

August's familiar giggle crackled in my ear. "Granted," she replied, "But I'll take it from here. Hold tight and don't do anything."

With a sudden lurch, the airframe suddenly lifted into the air and I momentarily looked around the cockpit, wondering if it was something that I had done. When we didn't drop back onto the deck or find ourselves launched forward, I spared a glance up and saw the massive crane that was slowly swinging us over to the cradle. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I leaned back and tried to relax for the few seconds when I wasn't in control. I'd hoped my first takeoff wasn't going to be a catapult launch, but August had insisted, and quite frankly, when that woman had her mind set on something, she was very hard to deter.

A soft thump and a shudder ran through the heavy fighter once again as it was lowered onto the cradle, and I spared a glance back over my shoulder. August, sitting in the radio operator's chair, looked up at me and gave me a reassuring smile, a gesture I returned before I faced forward again. "We're hooked into the cradle, begin final pre-launch checks," she instructed.

As the cradle trundled along on the track up to the catapult position, I ran through the checklist. While it felt really wrong to do so, my first step was to raise the landing gear, followed shortly by setting the flaps to the takeoff position. Once the landing gear indicator showed it was raised, I visually checked the flaps to make sure they were properly extended. With those two out of the way, I checked all the control surfaces by moving the flight stick around in a large circle and pressing on both rudder pedals one at a time. Satisfied that we wouldn't crash on takeoff due to equipment failure, I gave a thumbs up and announced, "Pre-launch check complete, ready for launch."

August was all business now, which hammered home just how important this was. "Full power to engines."

I slowly opened the throttles until the engines were howling, the entire airframe shaking as the cradle was holding it in check. "Full power."

"Launch in three…two…one… Launch!"

I was vaguely aware of a loud hiss before I was pressed back against my seat as what little deck remained ahead of us vanished in a nanosecond. The BF-110 was hurtled off the ship and I slowly pulled up on the stick, my heart in my chest as I hoped I wasn't making a fatal error.

Much to my relief, the nose gently pitched up and the plane ascended slowly into the sky. I watched as the ocean fell away beneath us, along with the green coastline as the altimeter slowly ticked up higher and higher. Eventually, we hit the altitude August had set for me and I called out, "We're at one thousand meters." Almost as soon as I said it, my mind reeled. I was now over three thousand feet in the air in an aircraft under my direct control. If someone had told me two weeks ago that I would be flying a plane I'd never heard of on my own in Iron Blood territory with a witch as my copilot, I would've told them to get their head checked. But here I was.

"Good," August responded. "Let's go ahead and practice aerial maneuvering. Come left to bearing one eight zero."

"One eight zero, aye," I acknowledged before I engaged the rudders and stick, putting us into a slow, gentle curve. I looked over the wing and down on the open ocean where I could now see the August von Parseval beneath us. The massive warship looked so incomprehensibly tiny from up here, and I found myself staring at it for so long that I nearly missed the heading. I quickly, but smoothly managed to level us out just as the compass read "180". I let out a soft sigh of relief before I thumbed the radio again. "On new heading."

"Excellent. You seem to have a good grasp of overall aircraft control. Now to improve the base principles. I hope you're strapped in tightly." I could practically hear the devious smile in her voice.

"Uh, what exactly are you planning?" I asked, daring a quick glance over my shoulder. As expected August was grinning like the proverbial cat who had just caught the canary.

"You'll see," she smiled before it quickly died and she barked out, "Bank left, now!"

My head snapped forward and I slammed the control stick to the side before pulling it towards me. The BF-110 responded immediately, quickly rolling onto its port wing before banking to the left. Inside the cockpit, the airframe began to shudder violently and I eased up on the stick to smooth things out.

"Level out."

I rolled the aircraft out until it was level and let out a sigh, but it was far too early to relax.

"Hard right!"

I slammed the stick to the right as I realized she was set on putting me through her paces. Or the wringer, which, in all honesty, could have been the same thing…

The next two hours were grueling as she put me and the aircraft through our paces, but I think I passed her rigorous inspection, and now came the hardest part of this entire flight: landing.

"Carrier in sight, beginning my approach," I announced as I slowly cut back on the throttles and dropped the flaps.

"Landing gear," August corrected and I quickly flipped the switch to lower the wheels.

"Right, got it," I said. "Tailhook?"

"Lower it."

I pulled the small lever that looked like it had been added as an afterthought and heard a small clunk from somewhere behind me. "Uh, I think that did it."

"It did," August reassured me. "Of course, on your own, you won't be able to tell from where you're sitting. Making every landing thrilling in its own right."

"Joy," I said dryly. Wondering if you were going to barrel into the barrier at high speed or not wasn't my idea of a "thrilling" landing.

The carrier was now growing larger and larger as I lined up on approach. I did my best to eyeball the approach, knowing I had to get lined up now before the carrier slipped out of view. As the aircraft came in for a carrier landing, the nose would pitch up, to allow the tailhook to grab one of the arresting cables and bring the plane to an immediate halt. Of course, doing so, meant I would be completely blind for the last crucial seconds. Too high and I'd sail over the deck and have to throw the engines into full power so I could go around and try again. Too low and I'd land in the ocean or worse, crash into the stern just below the flight deck.

Fortunately, August was providing feedback from her position, letting me know where I am on the glide slope. "Doing good," she encouraged me. "Ease off on the throttles slightly. Good. You're on target, bring it on in and prepare to cut the engines."

The time had come. I pitched the nose up and waited to feel the 110 catch the wire. With a sudden thump, the front wheels hit the deck, and as soon as we did, August called out "Cut! Cut! Cut!" I pulled the throttle all the way back to idle just as we were jerked forward as the plane came to an immediate halt. My heart raced for a second before I realized we'd caught one of the arresting cables. I leaned back in the seat and let out a long sigh of relief. We did it.

"Go ahead, cut the engines and disembark," August ordered as she began to unstrap herself. "And good work out there. You did precisely as I expected."

"Oh, I did, did I?" I asked as I ran through the shutdown procedures. "Still think you know me better than I know myself?"

"Of course I do," she chuckled. "I have seen you at your most vulnerable when you bared your soul to me. I know how this will end, and I will tell you that the end is coming soon. A crucible will soon be upon you, and I know how you will answer it. By giving in and submitting to me."

"Yeah, sure," I scoffed, trying to sound unconcerned as I began to unbuckle myself from the pilot's seat, but deep down, she was beginning to unsettle me. The conviction in her voice was undeniable. This wasn't something she believed or suspected or deduced. This was something she knew. Something was coming, and I would have to make a choice, and in the end, I would choose her. As far as she was concerned, it had already happened and she was just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with her. It was damn unnerving.

"Laugh all you want," she smiled at me as I climbed out of the cockpit. "It only makes my victory all the sweeter."

"And what if I just gave in?" I asked with a grin. "What if I gave you exactly what you wanted, threw myself at your feet?"

Her face twisted into a look of annoyance and disappointment. "You would ruin the wonderful game we've been playing," she answered. "You know that an unearned victory is simply bitter medicine rather than the sweet treat that is a victory that you fought hard for. And I also know that it isn't in your nature to willfully surrender, even if it was with the intention of spoiling my fun." That now-familiar smug smile returned. "Keep up your futile struggles, I do so enjoy watching you squirm…" She strode past, running a gloved hand along my cheek as she did so. "Come along. Let's get some food and drink before we get back up there…"

For the next couple of days, she ran me ragged. From sunup to sunset, I was either flying a mission or getting ready for the next one. I knew we didn't have that much time together so this had to be accelerated, but it was starting to take a toll on me. By the third morning, however, when we met in the ready room to go over weight calculations and flight plans, something was very different.

"Why am I looking at the specs for a BF-109 and not the 110?" I asked as I flipped through the preflight checklist. "I don't think the two of us will fit in the cockpit of the 109, no matter how close you want us to get."

She giggled and shook her head. "No, no mistake. Today, you are going to go up alone. Your first solo flight. Your mission is simple, follow the route I have laid out for you and once you have reached the endpoint, you can head for home. Any questions?"

"Yeah, about a dozen," I exhaled as I looked over the map she'd given me. "You're not coming with me in your own fighter?"

"That would defeat the purpose of a solo flight, would it not?" she smirked, and I felt my cheeks flush for asking a silly question. "But worry not, I will be tracking you the entire time. If you wander off course or run into trouble, I will be there to keep you safe."

I nodded to her, my fears somewhat allayed. "Alright," I sighed, "I think I'd best get to it, then."

She clapped her hands together once and nodded. "Excellent! I will leave you to it, then. I will be awaiting your arrival at the castle. Good luck, and good hunting, William…"

"..the castle?" I repeated, not sure I'd heard her right. "August, what do you mean, the castle?" If she heard me, she made no sign as she strode out of the ready room. "August? August!" When she didn't return after a minute, I shook my head and got back to work. I was sure things would become clearer in time, she was just being needlessly cryptic, as usual…

Despite the general principles of flight being generally the same and only one number difference between the BF-109 and BF-110, they couldn't be any different. The 109 was much more responsive and much nimbler than the 110, although the cockpit felt much more cramped in the 109. Using the kneeboard to navigate felt like driving a car while reading an almanac, but I was managing somehow. I'd passed three of the four navigation points and I was coming up on the last one when I noticed something. She'd put me halfway across the English Channel.

I checked my fuel, ran some numbers in my head, and realized that once I'd passed the fourth checkpoint, I could carry on my present course and land in Royal Navy territory. I wouldn't make it that far inland, but I could always find an open field to land in and catch a ride to London or Scapa Flow or anywhere, really. I could be back with the rest of the fleet in a few days if I was lucky, and two weeks ahead of schedule. Did August realize that? Was she trying to tell me something? Send me home? Suddenly, what she said this morning popped back into my head.

"...once you have reached the endpoint, you can head for home."

This was it. This was her crucible. The choice she was going to force me to make. I could go home, go land and join up with the Royal Navy who could then get me back to my fleet. Or I could go back and choose her.

I don't think I'd ever felt more conflicted in my life than at that moment. My sense of duty, my old life back home, all of it called to me, singing, if you'll pardon the pun, a siren song that left me yearning to follow it. But if I did that, I would be leaving August behind. I wouldn't have had the chance even to say goodbye to her. Yes, I could send her a message and say farewell that way, but it just didn't feel right. As much as I tried to deny it, we had grown very close, to the point where I didn't want to imagine a future without her in it. Even then, I was still trying to downplay our relationship until it was unavoidable, an immutable fact that I could no longer ignore. With my curses echoing in the cramped cockpit, I turned and headed for home…

The doors to the great hall swung open and I angrily strode towards August, seated on her throne, that damned knowing smile on her face, her gloved hands folded politely in her lap. Goddamn her, she knew this would happen. As I stormed towards her, I began pulling off pieces of flight gear, throwing them down on the ground one at a time.

"You!" I thundered, "You set me up!"

Her smile became smug and triumphant as her eyebrow slightly raised up. "I did tell you this was coming, did I not? That I would put you in a crucible and it would break you. The fact that you went willingly and doubly so that you saw it for what it was and still came back to me is no fault but your own. I simply forced you to see the implacable truth."

I stomped up the last few stairs and asked, "And what's that?"

"People cannot say no to their hearts," she coolly answered. "Much like I cannot refute my love for you, you cannot deny your feelings for me. That is the link that binds us together."

That sent me rocking back on my heels, and I stood there, mouth agape for several seconds as I tried to process this sudden confession. "You love…me…" I said slowly, trying to wrap my brain around this. "Then…why all the talk of submission and being your familiar?"

She smiled softly as she uncrossed her legs and pulled me close to her. "I enshackled you precisely so you'd want to rebel and make me submit to you."

"Wha-wh-?"

"Why, you ask? Because I've been drawn to you all along. Now show me that fearsome potential that sleeps within you," she muttered as she grabbed my collar and pulled me down for our first kiss. Like our relationship, it was tumultuous, and passionate, both of us fighting for control, both wanting to both dominate and submit to the other simultaneously. It was the best first kiss I'd ever had, and our last first kiss as things inevitably escalated beyond our control…

Z24 arrived at the great hall twenty minutes later with the latest maintenance reports on August's fighters, only to find it empty. "August?" she called out, looking around for any sign of her lady. "Well, where the hell is-" she muttered before she nearly tripped over a leather flight glove. "What the…?"

She looked up and saw a trail of pilot's gear that led up to the throne, then caught sight of August's robe in the middle of the hall. As she glanced around, she saw one of August's shoes, then further down the corridor leading away from the great hall, the other shoe. "Uh-oh…"

With growing trepidation, Z24 followed the trail of discarded clothing, hoping they'd managed to make it to a room before they become entirely lost(and naked) in their ardor. The parade of garments came to a stop in front of August's door, and the destroyer decided it was best not to push her luck and come any closer. With a resigned sigh, she shook her head and turned back for the great hall. "So much for staying a month…"

A/N-Well, who could've seen this coming? Oh yeah, everyone. Anyhoo, two chapters remaining, and only one week left for the character poll(again, link is on my Twitter page, admiral_fluffy), with Musashi and Yorktown II in a tie! Who's it gonna be? Until next time, fair winds and following seas!