Jeanne Alter IV

'You killed him.'

The world was red, and she would make it redder. Her eyes had locked on the worm scurrying from her, barely keeping himself from falling over himself by throwing out his hands and pushing himself away from her. Behind him, the wood and cloth left scattered from the stampede from the party were lit up in flame, the fires of the detritus mixing with the setting sun to bathe the world in fire.

Fire and Blood.

'You killed him.'

A few of the guards from earlier were out and somehow between her and the worm. Most likely they did not understand the danger they were in, fighting against her from anger or greed. It didn't matter either way.

When a man stepped within range, he burst into her flame. The shock soon turned to terror, as others also combusted as she advanced ever closer to them. One tried to throw a spear at her, but it was ash by the time it was within meters of her, and soon he would join it. Their screams would join the chorus of hell, for they sought to deny her vengeance.

"Run," she vaguely heard one cry, before turning tail to follow his coward of a king, "run!"

'You killed him.'

The worm had long since passed most of the guards who had come out to help him, and was back inside the original gate. The surviving guards, realizing that there was nothing they could do to stop her, had joined the voice in trying to flee back into the courtyard. But the gate quickly shut behind the coward, leaving guards stuck on the side with her. Many of them screamed, she could vaguely see them slamming their fists into the thick wood of the gate, and hear them begging to be let in. They screamed she was a demon. They screamed she was a witch of Azhor Ahai. They screamed she was a dragon.

They were right.

'You Killed Him."

She did not know how many were in the huddle of men that she lit up as she approached the gate. It could have been as few as three, or as many as a dozen. All she could tell was that by the time she made it under the stone portcullis, the bodies had stopped moving, and were slowly burning to cinders. They had burnt so quickly that she could not tell where one man had begun, and where another man ended. All there was was red flame and black soot in the middle. It didn't really matter, she stalked through the soot, watching as the wooden gate disintegrated in the heat and flame of her rage. And as it did so, she was exposed to the courtyard again, where she had been so foolish.

'YOU KILLED HIM!' Jeanette felt tears pouring down her face, and she could imagine the soot and tears were mixing to form some truly wretched lines raining down her face, 'YOU KILLED HIM!' she dug her fingers so tightly into her palms that she could feel blood pool under her fingernails, 'YOU KILLED HIM!'

She would never forgive the crying little shit, who she saw had been attempting to get to the other side of the courtyard, but had fallen while attempting to run past some of the ruined tables. She would never forgive the mage, second-tier shit, who was only barely managing to get up from the daze he had gotten from being tossed around by her. She would never forgive the remaining guards and guests, those still seeming to stand by this king, for allowing this whole farce of a wedding to go through.

And she would never forgive herself…after all…

'YOU KILLED HIM!' At that moment, the only reason she didn't rip her own heart out was so she could get to experience the joy of ripping that Targaryen's one out first.

"Kill her," she heard from along the walls. Arrows were fired, but the wooden shafts were soon burnt to cinders as they flew within her range. For a second, she was glad there were no crossbows with metal bolts, but she soon ignored it, and raised a hand to the half dozen archers across from her.

"Le gr-" she only needed a fraction to send a wave of flame along the parapets, the men along the wall engulfed too quickly to scream. Several other guards, who had been charging to confront her with swords, stopped at seeing that. Realizing her power, they began to turn, but she raised her other hand towards them, "ondement dui hane!" and they too were swallowed up and turned to ash, along with the tables around them. She then marched through the burning wood, her flames having no effect upon her, to where she could once again see the "King".

Viserys had fallen over some of the ruined pots and chairs from earlier. He turned around, and she could see snot and tears mixing in a horrific slurry along his face. He made to get up, but he seemed to slip, and Jeannette could see that enough oil had been left in the pots to have likely caused her target to slip, and lose the chance to hide himself away. Which would not have helped him, she would have hunted him to the ends of the world after all.

"Halt!" Jeannette didn't stop, though she gave a side glance towards the voice of the mage who'd been planning the ritual. Despite his head trauma, or perhaps because of it, he marched into his vision, hand outstretched, a smirk upon his face. As he got closer, his smirk seemed to widen, as he confidently stepped past an already burning piece of table, "You can see I have a spell that grants me immunity to fire," he laughed, "Not only was I to bring for drago-"

"Fucking die already," she raised her hand, and another jet of flame shot forth. However, this time, the flames were in a great fireball, with such force and strength, that sent the mage flying backward, through one table, and then a second, before slamming into one of the towers along the outer wall. For a moment, the man, whose clothes had completely burnt away, seemed dazed from hitting his head once more. But, even in that state his eyes widened as there was a great creaking, and then he disappeared under an avalanche of stone and mortar coming down over him. Jeannette huffed, "Don't think there's a spell to give immunity to rocks, shit head."

And then she returned her attention to Viserys. He was staring pathetically at the her, crawling backward towards the big wooden pyre.

'Of course it's a fucking pyre,' she thought, as she stalked forward. Seeing her approach him, the Targaryen reached to his left, picked up a smashed table leg, and tossed it at her. It burned up before it could even reach her, and she almost shook her head, 'Seeing everything so far hasn't already told him that won't work?'

"You can't do this," he began to shriek, stopping as he suddenly hit the pile of wood. He reached out to grab another piece of wood, but this time it burned up in his hand. His entire body quaked as his last defense turned to ash, and it only grew more violent as his clothes began to burn, "Ah! AH!" he began to pat himself down, rolling on the ground to try and put out the flames. All the while Jeannette just stood there.

'If I get too close,' she thought, watching her prey scream, 'He might burn up too quickly.'

He began to crawl, the few remaining rags along his body still smoking, up along the pyre, desperately trying to regain his footing. As he did so, Jeannette continued to advance towards him. And with that advance, suddenly the oil along the pyre caught fire, and his hands were engulfed in the flames. He reflexively pulled his hands away from the now alight wood, but before he could move, she reached out, grabbed his by his Adam's apple, and slammed him now onto the burning structure.

"I suppose there is some dragon in the blood of the blood of the Targaryens," she said, watching as his eyes began to dart back and forth, desperately seeking someone to call for help, "Everyone else already burst into flame, but you haven't caught fire."

Viserys opened his mouth, perhaps to scream, perhaps to beg, perhaps even to curse her. But nothing came out of his mouth. When her prey realized he wasn't able to make a sound, his mouth moved more rapidly, and his arms began to flail around. Jeanette leaned forward, placing mouth next to his ear.

"Let's see," she said, her fingers igniting in tiny furnaces, "Just how much heat that blood protects you from."

She then reached out, and placed the tips of the fingers' of her right hand on the tips of Viserys's left hand. And as she did so, she watched as he opened his mouth to howl in pain, even if the damage to his vocal chords meant he couldn't make a sound any more. Then, increasing the heat even further, she began to press down with her fingers, as the flesh of his fingers began to melt under her touch. Nothing stopped her, not even bone, as her fingers cut down to the first knuckles of the hand, and then the second. Finally, all of the fingers of his left hand had been turned to ash, and she gripped the remnants of his palm, and ignited her entire fist, atomizing the remains of the limb. All the while, she stared Viserys, watching his face contort into seven or eight different states of unimaginable pain, finally ending on him slowly shaking after the whole of the hand was gone.

She then reached out with her left hand, and began to do the same to his right.

"Your ancestors must truly hate you," she said, having burnt down past the outer knuckle of his right hand, "Almost anyone else would be dead from the pain of this, but your blood won't let you die," and then, as she neared the end of the fingers, "So, congratulations, you do have the blood of the dragon," she bared her teeth at him, before engulfing his mangled right palm in her hand, incinerating it, "Though, I have the fire."

"Pl-," he stammered, somehow gaining enough air to try and speak, "Please stop. Mercy," he coughed, reaching out the stub of his hands to touch her shoulders, "Please, Mercy, gods mer-"

She then reached down, placed her arms around Viserys knees, and ignited her hands with such heat that he reeled back and attempted to scream, though again it was inaudible from the damage to him and the cacophony of the yard. She watched as he writhed back and forth, flailing the stubs of his arms and his arms, and felt…empty.

She held up her hand, and looked at it, 'You killed him,' she thought to herself, 'You killed him,' she played with her hand, and thought about the dress that her master had been, the push he'd made. She gripped her hand tightly, and turned, walking away.

"I killed him," she said to herself, "I…I should be there with him."

"Ahh," she heard the man behind her moan. She turned her head back, raised her palm, and then ignited the pyre in an instant. She could see Viserys' body almost disappear from incenation, likely killing him instantaneously. She then turned one last time, and marched through the cinders of her rampage.

CROLUUHNNNNCCKKKK

'The stand above the pyre must have fell,' she thought, before walking through the gate.

Coming out of the gate, she stared across the yard, to see the group now gathered around the wall. Or rather, the two remaining members of the group still there, Mata Hari…around a second body lying supine. Immediately, her eyes locked on the sprawled out body of the young man lying between them all. Ritsuka's eyes were still open, but his skin had become far paler than usual, and he seemed to be trying to mouth something. Before she even realized it, Jeanette was sitting next to him, her hand on his face, which was gold to her touch. She looked down, and saw the long white cloth covering where the sword had pierced him, and the massive red splotch from the blood that had stained his bandages. Mata Hari was doing her best to staunch the bleeding, but from the pile of rags next to her, it was only slightly working.

"Is-"

"Jeanne Alter," Mata turned her head, panic in her eyes, "I need you to bive me a small fire, need to cauterize the wound," she pulled the bandage away, and Jeanette's hand was up against the entrance so fast she didn't realize she had moved. She stopped, and only slowly put flame to it, causing Ritsuka to flinch. Finally, after a few seconds, the outer part of the wound had been sewn together with the heat. Ritsuka seemed to relax, though he did seem to have seized himself up somewhat. Mata shook her head, "Shit, only managed to heal the outer part-"

"I don't know much about hea-"

"I know you don't," Mata sighed, eyes still focused, "I…This is probably the most you can do," she shook her head, "And I think you probably bought us more time to try and do what else we might need," she sighed.

"I…," Jeanette blinked, "What," and then she was answered as suddenly there were different people arriving. First was Cu and his son, both carrying a massive flask. They both got down and handed it to the Mata, who tipped it downward, and nodded as clear liquid came down. She let out a sigh, and lifted the bottle to Ritsuka's lips, and began to lift the other end very gently. Jeanette felt some relief as she saw the boy begin to take a few sips.

"So," Cu said, giving Jeanette a look, "Little fucker dead?"

"...yes," Jeannette nodded, and Cu nodded back, "I'm sorry," she looked down, "If I'd gotten back earlier."

"Hey, you were off killing anyone who might have tried to keep us from helping Master," Cu shrugged, his face in a deeply etched frown, slowly holding his hand over his son's shoulder, "I can't blame you for that," he then watched as master coughed, and Mata quickly pulled the water away, "Not when we need a lot of shit."

"Mother!" Jeanette then saw the two kids that they'd helped Mata get out of the courtyard run up, both of them holding up small little vials of potions, "The apothecary storage wasn't damaged," the boy said, handing her a few of the vials, "These were the extracts of the beetroot."

"Good," Mata nodded, "This might at least help him make more blood," she foreced it down Ritsuka's throat, "Plent of natural iron…," she growled to herself, "Unfortunately, nothing to actually stop internal bleeding down there?"
"No Mata," the girl shook her head, and for a moment, Jeanette just wanted to scream. These sorts of remedies would help if Ritsuka had already had his wounds healed, but if he was bleeding internally, it was trying to fill a tab with a leak at the bottom. She placed her hand on the boy's head, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

"Hey Jea-jeanette," he almost laughed. She growled, while rubbing his head. It was so cold, but and she wanted desperately wanted to warm him up.

"Shut up and save your energy," she said, using on the lightest heat she could muster along her palm, "You are going to get through this, idiot," she then turned to Mata, "Where is Nitocris, she's our mage, she should be able to heal him up!"

"She tried a healing spell, but something about the wound negatively reacted with it, and she couldn't over power it," Mata stopped, "Not with our Master hurt and other magic being drawn away for…"

'I really am going to have killed him,' Jeannette felt tears begin to gather along the bottom of her eyes, 'I will have dressed him in no armor, made him jump to take a strike for me, and then use up the energy that might have saved him,' she then looked around.

"Where is she-"

"Here," Jeanette looked over, and saw the three remaining members of their group, and then she blinked. Over Nitocris and Xuanzang's shoulder was Emiya, who was barely able to stand. She then pointed at the counter-guardian, and Nitocris shook her head, "When we found I couldn't just use my magic to overpower the wound with a relatively simple healing spell, we thought it must be something with the blade," and Jeanette nodded, remember the black steel that had cut into her Master, "Well, Emiya picked it up to analyze it for a way around it's magic."

"And he went catatonic," Xuanzang said, the monk doing her best to keep an eye on the barely moving form of her friend. For a second, Jeanette could only stare at Emiya, and then her mind wandered to the Valyrian Steel blade, the rare metal forged in the fourteen flames themselves, "What sort of magic could be on that blade."

"Something so strong," Jeanette said aloud, her mind wandering to rumors she had heard while studying as the witch of the Rhyollor, "Or so wretched…that it might strike at his core," with the look the other two women gave her, she could tell they were both shocked…and fearful of it. She nodded, "we can't afford to move Master," she didn't need to look back to guess that Mata and the others were still looking over Ritsuka, "Damnit," she placed her hands on the ground, "Damnit, damnit."

"How much time do you think Ritsuka's got left?" Cu asked, bending down, and staring at his master's plaid face, a slightly blue tinge appearing on his face. Mata stared for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Ten minutes maybe?"
"Alright then. We need a miracle," he then stopped, turned on his heel, walked right up to Emiya, and smashed his fist into the man's face.

"CU!" Nitocris shouted, before the blue haired man's palm was thrown right in front of her face, "What the he-"

"We need a miracle Shirou," Cu said flatly. And at that, Emiya's eyes fluttered open. He let out a groan, as he stood up from where Cu's strike had knocked him on his ass. He massaged his jaw with a free hand, giving Cu a glare for a moment, however, before he could say anything, Cu added, "You better have Avalon ready, cause that's the last hop right now."

"Avalo-," Emiya blinked, "I tried that, you know I ca-"

"Yeah, well we don't got any other choice," he pointed down at Ritsuka, "If the magic around that sword is so bad it knocked you dumb," Emiya seized up, and Jeanette could almost see fire reflected in his black eyes, "Then we need a spell so strong that it can overcome any other kind of magic," he pointed a finger directly into Emiya's chest, "So unless you have ten years of magic stored up in some crystal, Shirou," that Emiya's eyes never even moved away from Ritsuka, "Then you better pull of a miracle."

"...," Emiya could only look at the wound, before he held out his hands, and slowly opened his mouth, "I am the bone of my sword," and suddenly, gold light began to form between his hands, twisting and twirling in the air, "Steel is my body-" his voice caught in his throat, and he then coughed, and slowly the gold began to crystalize into a long shape, "And fire is my-first is my blood."

As the scabbard began to form, Jeannette could already feel the energy coming from it. The mix of gold and blue from the scabbard was easy enough to see, but it still wasn't solid, more an idea of Avalon than the real artifact. But even being the mere idea was already incredible, and, as Jeanette looked down along some of the burn scars along Ritsuka's chest, she could see some of the skin reforming, all the while Emiya's chant continued in the back of the yard.

'Come on,' She begged, 'come on.'

"-yet those hands will never hold anything," Emiya's body was shaking as the full form of Avalon seemed to come together between his hands, "So as I pray-," and at that word, suddenly Avalon almost fractured into pieces, but Emiya then slammed his hands inward, preventing the explosion of the scabbard, but barely holding it together, "Shit, come on."

Everyone around Emiya looked back and forth. The three normal kids could do nothing, Mata and Cu had no magic. Xuanzang and Nitocris were both casters, but neither could likely provide any assistance with this, their spells possibly interfering with Emiya's noble phantasm. And of course, she wasn't good for this either. She watched as the Counter-Guardian's whole form shook, his eyes closed in concentration, as he desperately tried to pull together the scabbard once more.

'Please,' Jeannette begged, in her own mind if not out loud, 'Please, please…' the image of the Ritsuka's smiling face came through her mind, 'please let this work.'

And then, Emiya and the scabbard stopped moving. In fact, both of seemed to freeze, and not move at all. Jeannette blinked, and looked around for a second, and saw in the others a similar confusion. She was about to speak up, when suddenly, Emiya opened his mouth once more.

"-so as I pray…!"

"Wait," Cu's suddenly shot forward. Jeannette had been able to hear the strange inflection in Emiya's voice, and while familiar she could not place it. But Cu could, and the questions that Jeannette had were answered when Emiya's eyes burst open.

Revealing deep green irises.

"UNLIMTED!" he and she screamed together, as suddenly the pieces of Avalon slammed back together, beginning to meld into their true form, "BLADE WORKS!"

And then, it was done, as Avalon, the gold and blue scabbard, dropped from the air, and clinked on the ground, solid as steel itself. Before anyone could even blink at the change in Emiya, he grabbed it up, and then thrust it forward, laying it along the wound from the Valyrian steel. The magic began to radiate from the scabbard, and seep down, into their Master's chest. Almost instantly, Ritsuka's breathing became more regular. His eyes seemed to brighten, and focus on everyone around him. Emiya continued to hold the holy relic against the boy, while everyone else just stared at the whole ritual.

"I can't believe that worked," Nitocris said flatly, though from a quick glance, Jeannette could see the relief in her features. Jeannette could only nod at that, while she also saw the Hound smirk as he crossed his arms behind his back. After a second, Nitocris gave him a sideways glare, "You do know he's going to punch you when he gets back to normal, right?"

"Eh, how we usually handle things," he shrugged, pointing at the shaking scabbard, which seemed to have it's edges flake off and then reform intermittently, "Though, let's not interrupt him, I'm pretty sure this miracle has a bit of a timer," he gave one quick look at the RItsuka's face, "He's probably already been taken out of the worst of this, with most of the internal wounds being stitched up by Avalon, but I want it to last as long as possible, considering that wound from Valyrian steel probably has left something more than just the cut," he then stopped, "Speaking of, where is the sword?"

"Emiya dropped it back," Nitocris turned, and stopped. Jeannette turned, and saw an empty courtyard, with no black blade sitting along the cobblestones, "There…it was only a few minutes ago," she turned back, "Do you think-"

"I think we may have just added another problem to our list," Cu bared his teeth, and began to turn his head back and forth. Jeannette stood up, readying herself for the next fight. However, just as she pushed some fire into her hand, she felt her entire arm cramp, and she barely kept it from going out.

"Shit."

"Jeanne Alter," Xuanzang was up against her, "Oh no, you are experiencing the backlash of using too much magic in your current body," she used her shoulder to catch Jeannette, "You've done enough, you should just try and rest."

"Not until," Jeannette coughed out, staring down at Ritsuka, "Not until I'm sure he won't die," she felt her legs give way, all the adrenaline loss mixing with the backlash to send her tumbling, "If I…I kil-"

"No you didn't," the monk soothed, raising a hand and placing it on Jeannette's face, "No you didn't. My disciple made his decisions, and he is going to live," she turned to give Jeannette a big dumb smile, "So…so why don't you get some rest."

"Not until…not until I'm sure he'll be okay."

"I'm okay," Ritsuka raised his hand, and everyone turned quickly. The idiot's face was still pale, his eyes still wobbly, and his fingers were still shaking. But he was clearly alive, and he was trying to smile. Trying, as the fact that the left half of his mouth hung limply downward did make it look like he had something of a concussion. Ritsuka leaned forward, but doing so, the angle did something to Avalon, and suddenly the scabbard burst into thousands of golden pieces.

"SHIT!" Emiya shouted, his eyes now becoming their usual color once more, and his voice no longer having her in the background, "I-"

"I'm okay," Ritsuka's head nearly fell forward, but he reached out, and caught it with his hands, pushing himself back upward, "I'm okay," he then shook his head, "Good work Emiya," he nodded with far too great of an arc to be quite okay, but the group couldn't help but sigh in relief as their Master seemed to regain his bodily control, "Good work everyone, sorry for making everything so dramatic," he laughed, "You know I can't help myself."

"Ritsuka," Jeannette felt her lips curl upward. The boy looked up, and as she saw him look at her, she began to feel her mind and body begin to give way. Looking at her, and likely seeing her exhaustion, he chuckled. She managed to cough out one last word as her body began to shut down, "Sorry."

"I'm okay Jeannette," he said, "After all, if I had a nickel for every time I've been stabbed in the chest," suddenly, Jeannette felt a hint of annoyance reach its head up in the back of her mind, "I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lo-"

"Yes, yes it is!" Jenneatte would one day have to thank Nitocris, who seemed to be in the process of rushing their Master down with arms outstretched, a half dozen veins suddenly bulging along her face. The caster was only being held back by Mata and Cu, who'd somehow grabbed at the former pharaoh and strained to keep her from strangling their master, "It is an exceedingly high amount of times to be stabbed in the chest!"

'Idiot,' Jeannette snorted, before feeling the world around her go dark.

"So you torched the one who stabbed Master?"

"Tried to," Jeannette seethed, stretching out her hand. She remembered the smug face of the priest who'd been holding the blade that had been sticking out of her master's chest, "If the coward had just stayed still for a second longer," she remembered how she'd only managed to catch the priest's hand with her flames. He no longer had that hand, but still, that shit head had managed to get away.

"Fucking Kotomine Kirei," she groaned, as her "little sister" sighed. Jeannette felt like smirking a bit at the little copy cat's scowl at her, but from the lack of her stupid bouncing around, Jeannette could tell that her clone didn't have the energy to tattle. And besides…she didn't really feel like smiling either. For a moment, they just stood there, in one of this plane's stupid hallways, watching as those still conscious were running back and forth trying to keep the remnants of Chaldea operating.

"Master will be okay," Santa Lily said, staring down at the floor, wrapping herself in her coat, "Won't he?"

"...pft," Jeannette tried to laugh, "Yeah, that idiot's too dumb to die," she said. When the little girl next to her only pulled her coat tighter around her shoulders, Jeannette felt a sudden panic, "Hey, trust me, he'll be okay," she placed a hand on her sister's shoulder, "Master…Ritsuka is strong, and…," she stopped, made one quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, before saying, "and our sister has stupid saint powers to heal him up."

"You sure?" she said, her eyes way to big for a girl her size, but somehow fitting on her head perfectly.

"I'm sure," Jeannette said. She then stopped, looked around once more, and then reached her arms around the younger girl, and held her for a minute. The little girl seemed to relax for a second, before wrapping her small arms around Jeanette's neck. After the next few seconds, Jeannette let go, and stood back up. They stared at each other for a second, and Jeannette took in the girl's smile.

"Tell anyone about this, and I'll burn your Santa doll."

"No you won't," the little girl began to skip down the hall, "Big sis Jeanne would yell at you if you did that."

'I really wish she didn't know that,' Jeannette sighed. It would be too big a pain to have to deal with that Saint's complaining, especially after all the healing she was doing for the idiot. She could probably just push this whole thing off as being tired anyway, so no need to-

And then she saw it. A strange green mist, seeping through the tiny slits in the metal plates that made up the walls. It slowly seemed to seep around, and begin to coalesce. The first thought about it being some kind of leak almost disappeared as the smoke was gathering into a form…right above the smaller version of her's head.

"Look o-" she reached out, and suddenly, the massive cloud of green smoke turned, and shot toward her. Jeannette felt herself be lifted into the air, her hand outstretched. The last thing she saw, was little Santa Lily turn her head, eyes growing in shock.

"Oooohhh," Jeannette groaned, moaning as the image faded into black. She opened her eyes, and saw it wasn't much brighter. She tried to push her way back up, but winced at the pain of moving around. As she fell back, and only stared at the ceiling, she sighed, "Stupid human body."

"Jeannette?"

At the voice, Jeannette turned her head. Sitting in a chair right next to her, visible if only barely, was Ritsuka. She couldn't make out his features, it was too dark for that, but from the way he was moving…he seemed to be still moving gingerly. He was very deliberate as he reached over towards a small chest, and picked up a pitcher and a cup. As he poured, it was clear he was straining himself to keep the pitcher from falling.

"Why are you still awake?" she immediately regretted the question, the back of her throat feeling like sandpaper. Ritsuka then placed the pitcher down, and moved over to her with the cup in hand. He raised it to her lips, and Jeannette, with only mild embarrassment, drank down several sips.

"Because someone needed to be here when you woke up," he said

"But why you?" she asked, the water making the question hurt less. He held the cup for a moment, motionless. And then, in the dim light of the room, she saw a sudden flash of light from around his face, as the idiot gave her a toothy smile.

"Because I wanted to."

At that, he lifted the cup to her lips again, and again she sipped down more water. Her throat was beginning to recover, the cracks along her tongue healing up. She let out a contented sigh as he pulled the cup back once again. She looked up at him, and he then leaned forward, and helped her drink some more. After a minute or so of the process, her throat almost felt normal again, and she was able to really push herself backwards against the head of the bed. She continued to feel twinges of pain as she sat up, but she was just ready to try and get up.

"Yeah, and you also got stabbed in the chest earlier…today?"

"Yup," Ritsuka nodded, "And come on it wasn't that bad," Jeannette felt a vein on her head nearly pop, "If I had a nick-"

"Finish that joke and I'm going to finish what Nitocris started," and RItsuka shut his mouth promptly. Jeannette looked more closely, and, yup, there was a rather sizable welt on the side of her Master's forehead. Honestly, after everything he tended to put them through, it was a rather tame punishment all things considered. She reached up, and placed a hand on it, and though he winced, he didn't pull away.

"You know you need to be more careful," she said, "If anything happened to you, then the whole mission, and Nova Chaldea…it all will collapse without you," she tried her best to look him directly in the eye, "All the servants will disappear, and then ones like me, or Santa Lily," she stopped, remembering the image of her sister, "Then we probably disappear permanently. We don't have a real history after all."

"...I'm sorry," Ritsuka nodded, "I…I will be more careful…"

"Good," she stopped, and pulled her hand down to his cheek, "And…and I'm sorry too."

"What?"

The flat question nearly pulled her out of this, but she pushed on, "I'm sorry I said you should dress up as a girl and infiltrate that place with no armor," she sighed, "I'm sorry, I was so careless to nearly get stabbed to death, and nearly lead to you dying from a hit for me," she took in one last deep breath, "And I'm sorry I wasn't there to try and help heal you."

"It's oka-"

"No it isn't," she said, "I…I always treat you like you owe me everything," she stopped, "no matter how badly you get hurt because of me, whether it was in Orleans, or the reverse harem thing, or Shinjuku or now," she felt her shoulders shake, "You've let me get away with so much, and I…," she was crying now, and she didn't want him to see, so she placed her face on his shoulder, "And I never thank you for it. You always just are so nice to me, you stupid idiot."

"..." Ritsuka just sat there, letting her lay against him. For a few minutes they just stayed like that, Jeannette crying and her Master slowly running his hand down her back. Finally, as she let out a few more coughs, she pulled back, and stared at him. He then smiled at her, as sweetly as he could manage, and said, "It really is okay Jeannette. I'm serious."

"I know," she wiped some snot from her nose, "God, that just makes it worse," she suddenly saw a piece of cloth thrust into her face, and looked to see a rag that Ritsuka had been keeping somewhere around him. She stopped, grabbed it up, and blew her nose into it. She then tossed it away, feeling slightly cleaner, before looking at him, "God, I'm so stupid," she shook her head, "And a hag like me, making you have to-"

"Come on," Ritsuka said, "You aren't a hag," he placed a hand on her shoulder, "Besides even if you were a hundred year old crone, I'd still want to be with you."

"...you know you're supposed to say something big and dramatic."

"Eh," he shrugged, "At this point, I think we both kind of know tha-," he stopped, and Jeannette could tell she was probably glaring at him. He shook his head, though he appeared to be chuckling, and said, "Alright, if you want that," He then reached out, grabbed up her hand in his, and held it, before looking her directly in the eye, "Jeannette, will you be mine."

"Uh…"

'THIS IS UNFAIR!' she internally shrieked, 'He's not supposed to just go out and say it!'

"...Only if you will be mine," she finally threw out. Upon realizing what she said, she began to stammer, "Wait-I mea-"

"Absolutely," Ritsuka laughed, before pulling her into a hug. He was laughing as he did so, and Jeannette sighed at the whole gesture.

'Thought this might involve some fancy dinner or something,' she thought absentmindedly, before finally looking out the window, and seeing the full moon hanging over the water, 'Still, guess the lighting is right,' she felt herself smile, before wrapping her arms around her Ritsuka, and let out a sigh, 'I suppose this is as good a way as any,' she then stopped, and considered, 'Though…we probably need to address some ground rules.'

"Ritsuka," she said, "We need to talk," she leaned backward from the hug, and laid against the wood, "I…I want to be with you," Ritsuka nodded, shaking his head like a puppy, "But…well I don't feel…I really don…It's no-"

For a second, RItsuka just stared at her. Then, his eyes widened, and he nodded, saying, "You don't feel ready to…get physical?" at that, Jeannette could only nod. He nodded back, before adding, "Well, yeah, totally can see why. After everything you've been through, the thought of…ya know," she did, "Might be really uncomfortable," he stopped, and then rubbed the back of his head, "Hell, calling it uncomfortable is way too light."

"It is," she added, "And it just isn't that," she held out her shaking hand, "I don't know what that life did to me," she placed a hand on her stomach, "I…I may have a disease or something," she froze, "And we may never be abl-"

"Then we won't ever do it," Ritsuka nodded, "I don't need that to want to be with you. I love you for who you are."

"Moron."

"Hey."

"Not that I don't appreciate that gesture," Jeannette sighed, "But…but it might be hard, especially," she felt her brow furrow, "Especially with all the other women around Chaldea who are trying to get you too," she leaned forward, "I…my body is really messed up, and I might be infected by something," she grabbed his hand, "I want you to promise me that you will reject any of the other girls that might try and weasel their way in," she held up her fingers, "No Kiyohime, no BB, no Serenity."

"I promise," he said, eyes locked forward and jaw set, "I wouldn't dare."

"Really?"

"Kiyohime has a mad enhancement that makes her pursuit mostly a desperate thrashing against her nature, so it never really was an option with her," he said deliberately, "And BB…yeah, I wouldn't touch her with a fifteen foot pole."

At that, Jeannette snorted. Then, for a second, she gave him a look, and asked, "And Serenity."

"I…do feel bad for her," he admitted, "I am the only man who can physically touch her, but she's a good person, and I'm sure she'll understand you are the only one I'm interested in," he reached out and rubbed her shoulder, "But, no, you don't have to worry about any of them?" And yet, Jeannette didn't feel totally mollified. She continued to stare at him, her mind clicking forward.

"What about Shielder?"

"...Mashu?"

"Yeah," she waved her hand, "Don't tell me you didn't enjoy seeing her in her skimpy armor, clinging to her ass," she needed to stamp this in the bud quickly, memories of the girl being annoyed at Jeannette's presence still clear in her head. The book worm had never liked her after all…

"Oh yeah," he shrugged, "But..she's a lesbian."

"...What?"

"Yeah," Ritsuka said, "Like, half the time we're hanging out is talking about other girls," he didn't seem to notice that Jeannette's jaw had gone slack, "Every summer, when we get over whatever adventure we somehow get roped into, we spent time talking about which girl is the hottest, rating servants by their chest, ya know, stuff like that."

"Wha-you-perverts!" she managed to shout, but Ritsuka held up a finger, and she quieted down, remembering it was likely quite late, "I can't believe," she sighed, before nodding, realizing she actually hadn't seen the pink haired girl actually try and go after Ritsuka in all her time in Chaldea, "Well…then tell me who has the best chest."

"You, duh," he laughed, and suddenly Jeannette felt her cheeks flare. She wanted to reach out for the pitcher of water, but it was behind him, and she really wasn't in the mood to twist around him like that, "Mashu said it was Mata by the way."

"She would fall for a honeypot," Jeannette gave a sideways glance, "Though," she huffed herself up, trying her best to push her breasts out, "It's good to hear that you understand the magnificence of my beauty," she felt herself smile broadly, "My boobs are amazing."

"They are," Ritsuka laughed, before slowly standing up, "You know, maybe we should go make some of that tea," Jeannette couldn't help but feel a shiver roll up her spine, the terrible taste etched somewhere beneath her tongue, "I know, but the compass is pointing North again, and we are going to head out in the morning," she looked at him, the thought of traveling causing her aches to rise a few degrees, but she nodded, "So, we do need to get some sleep."

"You're right," and then she pushed the sheets off of herself. When Ritsuka made to try and push her down, she swiped her arm at him, "I need to get moving for a bit," she froze at the sudden shock of pain she felt when she twisted herself into a sitting position, the balls of her feet crinkling with pain as she placed them down on the floor, "If only so I can feel like I'm not an sick little ingenue," she leaned herself forward, and nearly fell over, before Ritsuka caught her, and helped her stand fully upright, "Thank you."

"Glad to," he laughed, before reaching down, and taking her hand in his, "Now come on, we need to get to the kitchen. I'm sure there should be enough for at least one more night."

They both slowly snuck out of the room, making sure to open and close the door as gently as possible. As they passed the other rooms, Jeannette watched, and could tell that small bags were already laid out, likely to prepare for their departure in the morning. Most likely clothes, books, and a few other trinkets and items were in these personal bags. Jeannette could even see her own bag lying out, and while part of her wanted to complain about the lack of privacy, she was too sore to actually do so. Altogether, Jeannette could count…ten different bags of personal items.

"So…I guess Mata's brining her brats along then?" she whispered as they passed a set of three bags in front of one room.

"Yes," Ritsuka nodded, "Mata has…well, not told them everything, but has revealed she's basically has wizard memories," he shrugged, "After everything else they've been through, the two have…accepted something is going on, but they are coming with us, at least as far as we can take them."

"Suppose we can go into more detail on the road," Jeannnette nodded, "But really, this is going to get a lot more difficult with how many mouths to feed," she groaned, "That's probably going to mean more stupid gambling sessions, isn't it?"

"Probably," he said, as they managed to get into the main room, "Though, that reminds me, was Yenno," Jeannette must have had a face of confusion, because he then added, "The fat one-legged Dothraki guy, was he among those you killed?"

"Hopefully," Jeannette said, though she couldn't really remember, "I was so mad, that anyone who wasn't that shit kind of melded together," she blinked for a second, "Though, I think I wasted that wizard. Smashed him into a massive building."

"Hopefully," Ritsuka nodded, "Probably should have tried to kill them when we had the chance," he sighed, "But…well, I guess I am really too much of a softy. Probably why I have this," he reached to his right side, where Jeannette was certain the wound was, "But…even if he isn't I don't imagine he'll be hitting us for a while at least."

"Hopefully," she groaned, the thought of that wannabe master still trying to take her as his servant managing to piss her off.

"Yeah, now let-Emiya?"

The two walked into the kitchen, and saw the bronze Counter-Guardian standing against the stove, the kettle beginning to heat up. The older man turned, and raised a hand in the air toward them. They both waved back, as Emiya continued to work for his dreamless tea, leaving Jeannette and Ritsuka to simply look at one another.

"Bad dreams?" Ritsuka asked, and Emiya stopped. For a moment, he just stared forward at the flames, his mind clearly trying to find the right answer. That left Ritsuka and Jeannette to just stare at him, wondering what was going through his head.

"I guess you could say that," he finally responded.

"Is it the sword?" Ritsuka asked, and Jeannette winced. She knew that there was something wrong with Valyrian Steel. The material was deadlier than any other man made metal, able to cut through things more cleanly than any normal tool. As an Ash Valyrian in Volantis, she'd heard rumors of how that metal had been created, the dark rituals beneath the many volcanoes of the Valyrian Peninsula. She was not some innocent babe, or a righteous saint, but she wasn't about to deny that the history of her people was filled with magic that'd turn the stomach of even the most grotesque mages of the Clocktower.

"No, but I can imagine why'd you'd think that," Emiya said, "They didn't even need to kill them, the magic of the Fourteen flames was enough," he added, and that was enough to make Jeannette know she did not need to hear anymore, "But again, no, my dreams don't have anything to do with dark magic rituals from millennia ago."

"What about your wandering dream?" she asked, which caused Ritsuka to look back, and she simply shrugged.

"No, not that either," Emiya said quickly, managing to pull back RItsuka's attention to himself. Having done this, he gave a quick glare at Jeannette, who shrugged, before continuing, "I…I think it was a dream caused by the blowback from accessing Avalon."

"Yeah, tha-actually, I've been meaning to ask," Ritsuka spoke up, "...isn't Avalon one of the Noble Phantasm's you can't generate? I know you are primarily focused on swords themselves, but a scabbard being outside your usua-"

"You are correct, Master," Emiya said, "By every right, I should not have been able to summon Avalon," his gray steel eyes locked onto Ritsuka directly, "The boy would have been able to, but that…was many lifetimes ago," he gave Ritsuka a look, "But Artoria gave me access to it, and I was able to make a rudimentary copy strong enough to heal you."

"That's good," Ritsuka rubbed the back of his head, "I really am glad I'm not dea…Artoria gave you access to it?"

"Your getting better at noticing," Emiya smirked, before leaning against the counter, "When I was summoning it, I nearly lost it," Jeannette could remember the time the scabbard nearly shattered apart, "But…I…I begged for Artoria to help me…and she responded. I could swear it was like she was right next to me," he smiled, "And you all saw what happened next, I summoned Avalon, you were healed, and now we are here, talking about dreams instead of gone from utter failure."

"That's good," Ritsuka said, all the while nodding his head, "Though…I'm guessing that lead to a bad dream?"

"Not…not a bad dream…though the implication is bad," Emiya sighed, "When I went to sleep tonight…I wasn't here anymore," he closed his eyes, as though trying to remember the specifics, "It was cold, very cold, and dark out, probably only a few hours difference from our time," he then stopped, "I was standing on a tower, looking over long fields of short grass. There was a massive castle beneath me, and a small town nearby, but mostly, it was nothing but rolling hills."

Jeannette leaned forward. This was certainly different from the dream that Emiya had last told her, if from nothing else but from the temperature.

"As I was looking out, I was…I was looking Southeast," he said, his eyes closed, "I remember the last rays of the sun going off in the opposite direction, and instead just looking out among the eastern stars. They were beautiful, and it felt like something was really calling to me."

Emiya held up a hand, as though he was imagining something else, "The hand I had was pale, and pretty. But I felt…like I was being held back, like I was being called to the east. This…was frightening to me, like I was fighting to keep myself in that tower. Fighting to keep home."

"You think this was Artoria then?" Rituka said. Emiya nodded, "You think that somehow when summoning Avalon, you two formed a connection, and now she has something drawing her toward us?"

"That is what I think did exist," Emiya stopped, and closed his eyes in frustration, "Really, I almost felt like I overcame her need to stay, to get her ready to come to us," he groaned then ,"But then, the door behind her opened, and…and a teenage boy came out. He was maybe two years younger than you Master," he gestured at Ritsuka, "but he had a long face, and deep dark brown hair, and the makings of a beard."

Jeannette and Ritsuka blinked, and looked at one another.

"The boy called out to her, asking "Mother, what troubles you.""

'And there it is,' Jeannette sighed. It was clear enough that the thought of Artoria as a mother was troubling to the man, and the fact that it happened now, and was likely interfering with his plan to bring her back…

"And…and I felt happier than I'd ever felt before," Emiya sighed, "I said nothing was the matter," he stopped, and scowled, "The boy didn't believe her for a second, and every second they were together, I could feel my grip slipping, "he reached out, as though about to grab the golden girl, "And he came forward, and declared that all her children were growing worried for her."

"Multiple children," Ritsuka groaned, and Jeannette could not help but agree.

"And, well, Arotria said she was coming back down soon, and that it wasn't important," Emiya relayed the last of the dream, "The last thing I remember…is that I was being dragged away from Artoria as she wrapped her hands around her son, Jon," he sighed, "So…I lost maybe our best chance of catching her without multiple distractions of our goal, and without a quiver full of kids to contend with."

"Yeah," Ritsuka said, "That can be disappointing," he looked over at the steaming kettle, "Um, Emiya."

"I see it."

After a few minutes, they'd all be sitting with their cups of…sleep aids. Apparently it was a lighter dose, so they wouldn't get knocked out in the first sip, but still, it was already making Jeannette sleepy. As she yawned, Ritsuka walked over, and grabbed her arm over his shoulders.

"Have a good night's rest you two," Emiya waved as they left, "Knowing what we will have to deal with, you are going to need it."

"Night Emiya," Ritsuka waved as he lead Jeannette out of the room. For the next few minutes, they were moving back to their rooms, when Ritsuka asked, "Why is he taking the medicine?"

"So he doesn't dream about Artoria again?" Jeannette asked, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Ritsuka nodded at that, and for a second she thought, before her eyes widened, "Wait, couldn't he use that to try and keep tabs on her."

"Yeah," Ritsuka nodded, "I wonder…why is Emiya afraid to go back to her mind," he furrowed his brow, "Especially if he could possibly help get her onto our side…"

Jeannette didn't have anything to say. After all, she had never been particularly close to Artoria or Emiya, and their back and forth could be frustrating. Perhaps he was jealous about how happy she was, or jealous of others being happy…who knew.

All she knew, was she was glad that it felt like sleep was about to return. And she couldn't help but think they all had earned it after the slog they'd gone through. But they'd accomplished a lot, getting Mata Hari back, saving her children, and torching a compound of assholes. Ritsuka was save and sound, if a bit worse for wear, and he'd finally asked her to be in a relationship. And as a bonus to all that, the Targaryen Dynasty was no basically dead. After all, with Viserys dead, what threat did that little set of propped up warlords actually offer them now?