Fate/Hijacked

Chapter 7

Shirou had spent most of the day in the backyard of the Emiya household, focused on his magecraft training. With Lady Avalon's guidance, he was finally beginning to get a feel for his magic circuits, a sensation that still left him both amazed and overwhelmed. Gone were the painful attempts to convert his nerves into circuits—he could now feel the distinct flow of magical energy within him, thanks to his Servant's expertise. The transition had been smoother than he could have hoped for, and with each session, it was as if a new piece of the puzzle had fallen into place.

Despite this newfound progress, Shirou found himself struggling with conventional magecraft. Reinforcement remained his bread and butter—he could strengthen objects with relative ease, focusing on the finer details of their structure and enhancing their durability. His affinity for structural analysis also continued to shine through and tracing the components of objects was like second nature. But when it came to more complex magecraft, like elemental manipulation or advanced magical techniques, his grasp felt tenuous at best.

Lady Avalon sat on the porch, observing him with a thoughtful expression. Though her usual flirtatious demeanor was still present, she had taken her role as teacher seriously. She could see the potential in Shirou—his stubborn determination, his raw talent for Tracing—but it was clear that his unique skill set meant that conventional magecraft wasn't where he was meant to excel. Tracing was his true path.

"You're getting better," Lady Avalon said with a teasing lilt to her voice. "But you're still too stiff. Relax, my darling Master."

Shirou wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to his Servant. "I know, but it's hard to change the way I've been doing things for so long. This feels... completely different."

Lady Avalon rose from her seat and approached him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Different is good. Different is what makes you special." She winked. "And besides, you have me to guide you, don't you?"

Shirou flushed slightly but nodded. "I guess I can't argue with that."

As the day went on, Shirou continued his practice, but soon found himself interrupted by Lady Avalon's next surprising suggestion.

"Wait, what?!" Archer's voice echoed sharply across the backyard as he glared at Lady Avalon. "You want me to train him?"

"That's exactly what I said," Lady Avalon replied with an innocent smile, as if her request was the most natural thing in the world.

Archer's brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing as he crossed his arms. "Why me? I'm not a teacher, and besides, I don't exactly—" He cast a sideways glance at Shirou, his voice dropping to a growl. "—like the kid."

"True, you two don't seem to get along very well," Lady Avalon acknowledged with a soft laugh. "But let's not pretend you aren't the best person for the job."

Archer's expression darkened. "And why would you think that?"

Lady Avalon's smile grew as she leaned in slightly. "Because I know who you really are." Her voice was low and sweet, but there was a knowing glint in her eyes. "You're the best person to teach him how to fight and hone his abilities. You've walked this path before, haven't you?"

Archer's jaw clenched. The weight of her words, along with the subtle implication that she could expose his identity at any time, hung in the air between them. He crossed his arms tighter, staring hard at the ground. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

"Of course I am," Lady Avalon purred.

For a moment, Archer remained silent. He hated how easily she had seen through him, but he couldn't deny the truth in her words. He had experienced everything Shirou was going through—perhaps more deeply than Shirou himself could ever know. And as much as he disliked the idea, he knew that if anyone could help guide Shirou toward survival, it was him.

Lady Avalon stepped back and tilted her head playfully. "Besides, I plan to help Shirou become a better version of himself—a healthier, more realistic version. His ideals are noble, but he'll destroy himself if he continues down this reckless path without someone to temper him. And who better to teach him the harsh realities of heroism than you?"

Archer's frown deepened, but there was a begrudging acceptance in his eyes. "Fine. But don't expect me to go easy on him."

"Of course not," Lady Avalon said, smiling triumphantly. "And don't worry, Archer. I'll be here to make sure he stays on the right track."

Archer sighed, rubbing his temple. "This is going to be a nightmare…"

The backyard now became an impromptu training ground, with Shirou squaring off against Archer. Their innate dislike for each other simmered beneath the surface, but Archer was an effective—albeit harsh—teacher. He didn't hold back when it came to pointing out Shirou's flaws or his stubborn tendencies, and he pushed him hard, forcing Shirou to improve both his combat capabilities and his Tracing skills.

Shirou, in turn, proved to be a tenacious student. No matter how many times Archer knocked him down or criticized his approach, Shirou got back up and tried again. His progress was slow, but it was steady. The frustration between the two was palpable, but so was the barest hints of a growing respect.

"You're too slow," Archer barked, knocking Shirou's reinforced wooden sword aside and delivering a sharp kick to his chest, sending him sprawling to the ground. "If you can't predict your opponent's movements, you'll die."

Shirou groaned, his ribs aching, but scrambled back to his feet. "I know that! I just—"

"Try again." Archer's voice was cold, unyielding.

Shirou wiped the spittle from his mouth, glaring up at Archer. There was something about the man that stirred an innate sense of rivalry in him. But he couldn't back down—not when this training might be the key to survival in the coming battles. He rushed forward again, sword in hand, his movements more fluid this time. Archer blocked the strike with ease, but the force behind Shirou's attack had improved.

Archer, despite his initial reluctance, began to recognize Shirou's potential. He still found Shirou's idealism irritating and naive, but he couldn't deny that the kid had talent—raw and untapped, but talent nonetheless.

Lady Avalon watched the sparring from a distance, a bemused smile on her face. She was genuinely pleased to see Shirou making progress, even if it came at the cost of a few bruises and cuts. Archer, for all his grumbling and brooding, was a competent teacher. And Shirou, bless his heart, was a relentless learner. She had set this in motion for a reason, and it was paying off.

As evening fell, Rin gathered everyone in the living room for a strategy meeting. Archer stood near the window, his arms crossed, while Lady Avalon sat close to Shirou, occasionally leaning over to tease him with a playful comment or a brush of her hand. Shirou, ever the easy target, flushed with embarrassment each time but tried to focus on the discussion.

Rin cleared her throat, glaring at Lady Avalon's antics but choosing to ignore them for the sake of the meeting. "We need to go over what we know so far about the other Masters and Servants. Berserker is Illya's Servant, obviously, and we know how dangerous he is. We've also encountered Lancer, but we still don't know much about his Master."

Archer, standing stoically, added, "Caster is another problem. I've scouted around, and she's currently holed up at Ryuudouji Temple. She's also controlling Assassin, so we can assume that she's behind his summoning."

Rin nodded thoughtfully. "That makes things more complicated. Caster is dangerous, especially if she has Assassin under her control."

As they discussed strategies, Lady Avalon playfully leaned closer to Shirou. "Don't worry, darling, we'll take care of all of this. And I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you." Her tone was light, but there was an underlying sincerity in her words.

Rin shot a look at her, her patience wearing thin. "Can you not flirt in the middle of a strategy meeting?"

Lady Avalon smirked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Oh, don't be jealous, Rin. We both know you're just as invested in this as I am. After all, it's clear how much you care for Shirou."

Rin's face flushed red, and she sputtered in protest. "W-what are you talking about?! I don't—!"

"Tsundere, how cute," Lady Avalon teased, her smile widening. "But we can save that for later. Right now, we've got a war to win."

Shirou, entirely oblivious to the subtext, blinked in confusion, while Archer merely sighed, shaking his head. He muttered under his breath, "This is going to be a long war…"

Omake

Throne of Heroes: Artoria's Wrath, Part 7

In the Throne of Heroes, Artoria Pendragon sat with her arms folded, watching the events unfold with an ever-growing sense of frustration. She had been observing Shirou and that wretched Lady Avalon, and her patience had long since worn thin.

"That should be me down there!" Artoria fumed, her voice echoing through the ethereal plane. "I should have been the one summoned to Shirou's side! Not that infuriating succubus!"

Her mind replayed the image of Lady Avalon, sitting next to Shirou, flirting shamelessly with him during a strategic meeting of all things. The sheer audacity!

"Not only does she constantly undermine me," Artoria grumbled, "but she hijacked the summoning! I was supposed to spend time with Shirou, protect him, bond with him… and now I'm stuck up here, watching her do it instead!"

Artoria clenched her fists, feeling a surge of jealousy. She could practically hear Proto-Merlin's smug laughter from across the Throne of Heroes.

"I will never forgive her for this. Never!"

Merlin's annoyingly amused voice floated across in his usual carefree manner. "Oh, my dear King, you're so adorable when you're jealous. You'll get your chance eventually. Maybe~."

Artoria glared daggers at Merlin's words. "Don't test me. I'm serious."

Artoria groaned in frustration, knowing full well that she was powerless to stop what was happening in the world below. All she could do was wait, seethe, and hope that one day she'd get the chance to reclaim her rightful place at Shirou's side.

But for now, she could only watch... and sulk.

The Knights of the Round Table, those loyal souls who had accompanied her throughout her life and beyond, stood awkwardly nearby, casting uneasy glances at one another as their king raged.

Her knights exchanged nervous glances. Lancelot, usually so composed, tugged at his collar. Gawain, his sense of loyalty urging him to speak, tried to step forward, only to hesitate when he caught the furious gleam in his king's eyes. Bedivere, stoic as ever, stood with his head bowed in contemplation, while Mordred was standing to the side with her arms crossed, grinning smugly at her father's outburst.

Tristan winced, strumming a mournful chord on his harp. "My king," he ventured, "perhaps Lady Avalon was merely—"

"Do not defend her!" Artoria snapped, her eyes narrowing. "That woman is the most inappropriate, scandalous—no, shameless—creature I have ever encountered! I do not care if she is an alternate version of my mentor in my youth. The things she says to him—how can she behave so… so… improper?"

The knights stood silent, most unsure of how to respond. Bedivere quietly turned to Lancelot, his eyes asking for advice. Lancelot shook his head in resigned confusion.

"Ah, Artoria," came Merlin's voice, drifting lazily from his tower in Avalon. "You seem quite upset. Might I offer a… different perspective?"

"I will not hear your excuses, Merlin," Artoria growled, crossing her arms.

"Oh, come now," Merlin's voice teased. "Lady Avalon has her own way of doing things, true. But she's helped young Shirou immensely! Surely you can see that."

"I see that she is an embarrassment to everything we stood for!" Artoria snapped.

A ripple of magic filled the air, and suddenly a shimmering portal appeared in the centre of the hall, ringed by mystical flowers. "Perhaps," Merlin mused, "you'd like to see a different outcome? A world where Shirou summoned someone else entirely…?"

The portal flickered, and the image on the other side shifted. Artoria's scowl deepened as she peered in, the glimmering surface revealing a new, unsettling vision.

It was Shirou again, standing in the familiar setting of the Emiya household. But beside him stood another woman—regal, cold, and altogether more sinister. Morgan le Fay, Artoria's own estranged half-sister, was there, her presence casting a dark, foreboding shadow over everything. She was clad in elaborate robes, her eyes gleaming with malevolent cunning as she leaned ever-so-casually against Shirou's shoulder, a dark, twisted smile on her lips.

"Shirou," Morgan purred, her voice a velvet whisper, "I will shape you into the king you were meant to be. None of this foolish 'hero' nonsense. No ideals, no illusions. Only power. Only domination."

Shirou, looking somewhat dazed, nodded, clearly caught under her spell.

"How wonderful. You're such a perfect Master for me," Morgan declared, as a shimmering vortex of magical energy spun around her. "Forget about that insignificant girl who threw her life away. With me, you will conquer everything. We will rule."

Artoria's eyes widened in horror. "No… no, no! This is worse! This is far, far worse!"

The portal shimmered again, the image of Morgan smirking smugly at Shirou vanishing into mist. Merlin's chuckle floated through the air once more. "See? There are worse possibilities than Lady Avalon… much worse. Perhaps she's not so bad after all?"

Artoria's scream of pure, indignant fury reverberated through the Throne of Heroes. "Merlin! You—you..?! Why are you like this?!"