Dawn

Adult Warning: This story features explicit sexual content. It should not be read by anyone under the age of eighteen.


Dawn


Swords…

He knew everything about them.

Blades. The finest alloys were indexed in the library of his mind, only the strongest of them committed to memory, but all he ever needed was a sharp edge. Hilts. There was no difference between elegant embroidery that dazzled him and bare steel softened only by strips of worn duct tape. As long as he could wrap his hand around it, he didn’t care what it looked or felt like.

Naturally, he understood what a sword was.

It was a weapon as much as it was a work of art. It was meant to kill just as much as it was meant to protect. A sword was a lot of things, but the exact definition was too broad from him to grasp. While there would never be a single truth behind the concept of the sword, there was only one reality in front of him.

Gilgamesh tossed another one of his treasures aside. He had no use for a sword that wasn’t fit for someone of his stature, but the smug grin of his face made it all too easy to tell he was just having his fun. “Oh? You still stand?” The golden knight was amused even though his interest in the human was starting to wane. “Not bad, but I’m starting to grow bored of this. Have you finally run out of tricks?”

A mix of blood and sweat seeped into his eye, but Shirou kept his silence as he struggled to stand his ground. He inched a foot forward, widening his stance just to keep himself upright. He looked up and found what he was looking for even though his vision was blurred.

The sword was still in his hands…

Shirou wavered, swaying until he stomped down to right his balance. In the bliss of his relief, he almost lost himself and the sound of his conviction cut into the silence that descended. He took another look at the katana he projected. He needed to move. He needed to do something before Gilgamesh attacked again, but all he could do was stare at the lie that he was holding in his own hands.

The sword he held was not the real thing.

How could something crafted in his imagination become tangible? Something as fragile as a dream didn’t have a place in reality so the ideal, the original, was impossible for him to recreate. A fake was something to be discarded. It wasn’t something to use against a king.

Shirou felt stupid.

Even though sure death was right in front of him, the sheer depth of his ignorance rang in his conscience like a tolled bell. At the very core of his being, he didn’t have the slightest idea of what a sword really was or even what it was meant to be.

He didn’t care.

It was too late for his confidence to be shaken, too late for any worry to drill doubt into his heart. Instead of worrying, all he had to do was what he did from the beginning. If he didn’t know what a sword was, he’d just make up his own definition. It was his own interpretation dyed in his own experience, and it was in the midst of his contradiction that he discovered what he was always searching for.

He could see it…

The haze in his eyes vanished as the words he needed to say came to him and the things he sought to understand followed. Gradually, realization started to set in but his expression didn’t change. It wasn’t surprising because he already knew the truth and accepted it a long time ago.

He was made out of swords.

“I am the bone of my sword…”

The shallow breath he took after saying it wouldn’t be his last. He lifted his head as he spoke, the body that was never slow to work for the sake of others moved on nothing more than his will as he locked eyes with his adversary.

“Steel is my body, and fire is my blood.”

It was not a spell. It was his reality. It was what he believed. It was the ideal that lived in the swords he projected, but the swords he made were not his creations. The very best he could do was imitate them so, in theory, he never actually made the swords he wanted to hold. He only made fakes, but his fakes were good enough because they were in his hands. They were good enough because he could use them.

“I have created over a thousand blades.”

To grab hold of a sword, his hand had to be empty.

“Unaware of loss.”

But the swords he held were never the real thing.

“Nor aware of gain.”

He coughed and didn’t bother wiping away the thin line of blood that trickled down his chin. The chant wasn’t finished. He wouldn’t stop because he couldn’t. He’d keep going even if he lost his voice. The words weren’t meant to incite a spell. They were something he used to remind himself of who he was or, to be exact, who he wasn’t. Everything about him was borrowed. His dreams, his philosophy, his home, and even his name…

He was a faker in every sense of the word.

“Withstood pain to create many weapons.”

He wanted to be a hero.

More than anything he wanted to become someone that could save people, but that meant that trouble had to befall them first. If he had to fight, then there had to be something to protect. As long as someone was behind him then he could fight. As long as someone was behind him then he could be a hero.

“Waiting for one’s arrival.”

He never thought about losing, but he never thought about winning, either. All that mattered was her safety. The sword in his hands was held to make sure she wasn’t hurt, but all he could give it was his best. If he died, he’d die knowing there was nothing else he could do.

“I have no regrets.”

He looked up at the stars as he let go of his sword. The nameless katana slipped from his fingers and into the rubble, clanking against the cobblestone until it fell flat. He didn’t let go of the sword because he didn’t need it anymore. He dropped it because he needed it. He needed all of them. He let go of the sword, but his conviction never wavered at all. He already knew where he was going so his hands needed to be free.

“This is the only path.”

His whole life was empty. He alone was spared. People died, but he was the only one that was given salvation. He was the only one that was saved so he had a responsibility to live. He was given a second chance and he appreciated it, but nothing else mattered as long as he could save someone.

“My whole life was…”

As long as he could keep at least one person from being hurt!

“Unlimited Blade Works!”

She blinked and the world was drenched in shades of burnt orange and baked brown. She looked up at the mix of hues that reminded her of a sunset, but the sun wasn’t near the horizon or even in the sky at all. It was an afternoon sky without the presence of the sun, the clouds only faint whispers of gray that sailed in the dusty colors above.

She heard something and found herself looking at her master’s back as he stalked into a barren field of swords. His shoes kicked up dust as he walked, his soles digging into the cracked dirt with every step, but all she could care to look at was the endless swords stuck in the ground. All of them were noble phantasms. They were everywhere, some of them known to her and others close enough for her to grab, but they weren’t for her to touch.

It was a version of his reality, the battlefield ideal only for him. It was sorcery not even she possessed. It was a world strictly for the swords ready to be plucked from the ground, a world colored by the boy who walked in front of her.

She was openly surprised, but the knight in front of them did little more than raise an eyebrow at the reality marble. “Oh?” Gilgamesh smirked as he flexed his hand. “This is the best you can do? Field your fakes against the real thing?” The king of heroes scoffed, humoring himself as he pointed at them. “A woman and a child… A witch and a faker. I don’t know if I should keep holding back or just outright crush the both of you.”

“Is that so?” The hooded woman grinned from where she stood behind her new master. “I admit that you earned the right to be arrogant, but you’re going to lose if you don’t take us seriously.”

“Silence witch!” Gilgamesh heaved a mighty sword out of his eternal vault and brandished it. He eagerly tightened his hand around the hilt and wielded it with ease in spite of its size. It was not the most famous sword he had, but a sword without a name was well suited for swatting flies. “Prepare yourself, boy.”

Shirou pulled a sword out of the ground and took the challenge. He dashed towards the waiting knight and Caster watched the blades clash from afar. Sparks flew from the violent collision and the blade her master used broke on impact. He drew another sword before he could be cut, but the outcome was the same no matter what he did or how hard he tried.

The Wallace Sword was shattered into pieces. Excalibur was useful until he was forced to guard. Tyrfing was broken before it could invoke its curse. Tizona fractured the moment the strike landed on the golden armor. Morglay, the magical sword that could never break, split so it was an ironic twist when Curtana, the symbolically broken sword, began to turn the tide.

Shirou parried the slash meant for his throat, the holy sword itself blessing him with every necessary movement. He dodged, twisting his entire body to avoid the following blow that would have killed him. He sensed the next attack coming and moved before it came. The claymore that came from high above was slapped away, the enormous sword clumsily spinning in mid-air before it fell flat on the ground.

The king that was never disarmed was quick to open the gate to his treasury, and, without looking, reached back to draw a sword out of the rift. Almost on cue, the rest of the weapons in his vault took aim and launched. Lances, swords, spears, knives, and weapons of all shapes and sizes were fired at Shirou like bullets from a machine gun, the pressure unrelenting as his adversary watched him slowly succumb to the wave of weapons.

Even though he was trying as hard as he could, he couldn’t knock all of them away. A halberd almost grazed his elbow. Some of them would hit. A sword that looked like it was made out of barb wire scratched his ear. Some of them would outright kill him so he had to do something. He used all his strength to repel a giant hammer and cursed when Curtana started to crack.

He was going to die.

He was going to drown in the weapons that rained on him and, after Gilgamesh laughed at his struggle, Caster would be next. The person he stood up to protect would die, the reason he fought would be killed.

Shirou dodged the rapier that went for his eye and the tip dragged across his cheek. The pain, the crippling punches Rin endured so he could catch Souichirou off guard would be in vain. Fresh blood smeared across his face as he raised the sword to deflect the dart meant for his heart.

Caliburn sped towards his head and he met it. The smile Saber gave him before Caster forced her to fight would be meaningless. The sword that was already broken fractured, pieces of it falling as the sword meant to impel him was knocked far into the distance.

The words that Archer gave him, the faith he invested in the self he loathed, would become a lie. Was it already a lie? That Emiya Shirou could defeat Gilgamesh?

It wasn’t a lie.

It had to be the truth because he wasn’t going to let the person behind him get hurt. It was true because Rin was going to be okay. It was true because, even though Saber was gone, he’d never forget her.

It was the truth because the man that said it was himself.

What was left of Curtana vanished as he took hold of the twin swords, Kansho and Bakuya. The stone staff that headed for his sternum was obliterated. Fist-sized chunks of rock drifted, smashing into the other weapons that were supposed to kill him. All of them missed. Some because of the rocks that knocked them off track, but most because of the swords he held.

Shirou ran even deeper into the storm of riches and an angry Gilgamesh met him. They fought with recklessness, wild swings and devastating blows so close to landing that death existed in nothing more than an ill-timed blink.

Caster looked on, awed and pensive as she watched her master avoid the random weapons that rained on him. He stood at the center of the metal storm, fending off the desperate attacks of the knight and sidestepping the occasional weapon at the same time. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. She had to do something, but she couldn’t use her magic to aid him. Even with her skill, her master would still be hit by any magic powerful enough to harm Gilgamesh, and she couldn’t afford to have him hurt.

At least not yet…

While it wasn’t an attack, one thing she could do for him was reinforcement. With a snap of her fingers, Shirou was blessed with the strength and speed of a demigod. Realizing what happened, the golden knight reached back into his noble phantasm to retrieve his most powerful weapon until his arm was severed.

Blood poured from the stump and an opportunity arose in the split second the knight spun to grasp EA with his other hand. Shirou threw one of the twin swords with enough force to dislocate his shoulder and Gilgamesh was cut in half, his last words nothing more than the gargled sound of a man choking on blood.

Shirou caught his sword upon its return and watched the servant fall to the ground in pieces. He beat him. The man that killed Saber was defeated, but he didn’t feel any better. He won, but that didn’t change anything aside from one important fact.

There was only one servant left.

“You did it…” Caster was grinning, practically gushing with glee as she laughed out loud. “You did it!” She survived. She was going to get her wish. She was better than all the other servants. She was finally going to get her revenge on the world that labeled her the most sinister of witches. If she had known that the boy was that strong from the beginning then she would have sought him out earlier. It certainly would have saved her the trouble.

And the heartache…

She stopped laughing. She made it, but the man she loved didn’t. The first person to show her real kindness was dead and the boy that killed him was right in front of her. The moment she attained the grail he would die. She would have to sit down somewhere and come up with a spell good enough to punish him. It had to be something good. Eternal torture lost its appeal too fast and something quick was just too anticlimactic.

“Caster…”

Shirou looked over his shoulder, the twin swords he conjured still firmly in his hands as he called to her. It wasn’t until she looked up that she remembered he still had reinforcement. All too quickly, she remembered that she nearly killed one of his friends. She remembered she was the one that took Saber from him.

He could kill her.

Her hood fell as she snapped her head up and revealed not only the pointy ears she hid, but also the fierce animosity in her eyes. It was all about who struck first. It didn’t have to be a strong spell. He didn’t have any unusually strong magic resistance so something fast and simple would be enough, but she had to do something before he did.

“Are you alright?”

The hand she raised to rain fire on him was promptly lowered. He wasn’t scheming to kill her. She was relieved, but the way he looked made his opinion of her crystal clear. He didn’t like her. She was alright with that. The feeling was mutual. She wronged him and he wronged her. They were only enemies that allied to defeat a greater threat so for him to ask her a question like that…

“I’m fine.” The witch completely shrugged off her hood and her light violet hair was caught in the breeze. She found herself smiling at the irony as she exchanged common courtesy with the murderer of her lover. “How do you feel?”

Shirou dropped the swords, both of them disappearing before landing in the dirt.

“I’m tired…”

“You’re out of prana.” Caster walked over to the ailing boy and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flailed away from the contact, nearly falling to the ground as the world around them returned to normal.

They were back in front of the church. The damage done in the fight between Archer and Lancer was still fresh, etched in the grooves left on the ground and the missing shrubs that used to line the path, but the survivors of the Grail War paid little attention to their surroundings as Caster dropped the hand she used to touch him. “You’re going pass out at this rate.” If she was offended, she made no mention of it as she turned around. “Come. I’ll repay you for accepting my contract and, after that, I will get the grail.”

“Did…” Shirou took a deep breath and wiped the sweat off his forehead before following her into the church. He wasn’t around when it happened, but the broken pillars and cracks in the walls told stories of the battle between servants. Caster ignored the destruction as she wandered on. “Did you leave something here?”

She ignored his question as she opened a door and peeked inside. Not seeing what she hoped to find, she moved on with Shirou in tow. His headache was getting worse and he was so exhausted he was nauseated. He had felt worst before but, with adrenaline keeping him upright, he didn’t have the chance to realize how dry his throat was or how much his legs were shaking.

“Finally.”

He looked up praying that she found what she was looking for so he could at least catch his breath, but the hand that pulled him into the room gave him little time for reprieve.

It was a small room that had only had a bed and necessary furniture. He guessed that it was a guest room, but the sight of something to rest on immediately made his eyes feel so heavy that he almost fell asleep where he stood.

“Disrobe.”

His eyes snapped back open as she lit the candles left next to the books on the night table.

“What did you say?”

“I said take off your clothes.”

Caster pulled off her robe and started to undo her dress. The enchanted clothes fell to the floor and she stepped out of them. She didn’t wear any underwear. She was naked. He looked her up and down and traced her dainty, adult figure with his eyes. She said nothing to halt his staring. His breath caught in his throat when he realized he was.

She was a grown woman. Her legs were long and toned, her breasts full and firm. His eyes glossed over the things she didn’t try to hide and she allowed him to see everything he wanted to as she kicked off her shoes.

“Are you shy, boy?”

She was amused. She figured that any man would be anxious to have sex, but the way he stood there staring at her did good things for an ego that didn’t need to be flattered. As expected, he shook his head from side to side before turning to the wall and keeping his sight there.

“E-Exactly what kind of ritual do we need to do to get my prana back and…” Shirou gulped, unable to look her in the eye when his face felt so hot. “Why are y-you naked?””

“Ritual?” She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh. It was going to be fun. She knew that she was definitely going to have some fun dirtying him just a little. “It’s nothing like that, boy. We just need to have sex.”

“Me and you…” He turned to face her again and pointed at himself before pointing at her. She nodded, smirking as he started to blush all over again. “No, I… We…”

“You’ll regret it if we don’t.” She walked over to the bed and took a seat, crossing her legs as she looked at her master. “This is the fastest way to give you some of my prana and we’re wasting time.”

“A-Are you sure?”

“Yes,” She sighed. She hated to repeat herself. “I’m sure but, if you really don’t want to then, you can use one of those command spells to make me change my mind.”

Shirou briefly glanced at the crimson marks on the back of his hand before pulling off his shirt and unbuttoning his jeans. There was some trepidation as he looped his thumbs over the band of his boxers. He pulled them down anyway and pretended he didn’t see her take a peek. He bent at the waist to take off his sneakers and stepped out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles. After a second used to take off his socks he was just as naked as she was, but, before anything, he still had an important question to ask.

“Do…” He found the courage to look her in the eyes. “Do you want to do this, Caster?”

“No, I don’t.” She made it perfectly clear how she felt. “I rather not but it is only fair that I help you since you saved me, is it not?”

That made sense even if he felt it was a little out of character for her to go out of her way for something that didn’t benefit her. He did save her. Gilgamesh was intent on killing her because she used Saber against him. Had he not made a contract with her before then they both would have been dead. Even if the circumstances weren’t as dire, the fact was that she just wanted to repay her debt.

She was just trying to help, but he couldn’t forget.

Every time he looked at her, he saw her holding Fuji-nee hostage or using her command spell on Saber. He couldn’t forget that she nearly killed Rin. He didn’t even know if he could forgive her but she was offering to help, offering him the body she probably didn’t even want him to touch.

She hated him.

He wasn’t the smartest person, but he knew that much. They didn’t like each other. The only reason they were together was to defeat a common enemy. Again, he took a look at the back of his hand. The command spells were there. He could use them to issue her an order she had no choice but to follow, but they were useless. Everything was already over.

“Come here.” She uncrossed her legs and scooted back a little. “I don’t know what you expect from me, but I will keep my word. Still your feelings and I’ll still mine.” She smiled, malice delightfully dancing in her eyes even though she was trying to be friendly. “I promise.”

Shirou stood still for a minute before doing as she said. He forced thoughts of what she did to the back of his mind and, slowly, walked over to where she sat. She extended her hand towards him and, for the second time, she touched him. Her fingertips waltzed down his side and over his abs until she got to what she wanted to see.

“Cute…”

She started it with contact, caressing him as she said it and drawing a fierce blush in the process. His back went rigid thanks to how cold her hand was, but the feeling her touch invoked couldn’t be any warmer. He started to feel dizzy, his mouth starting to feel a little drier than before as she started to slide her hand up and down his rising length.

She blew on his erection and took pleasure in the way he reacted. If all his reactions were that cute then she didn’t even have to think about the fun she was going to have.

“Do you want me to put my mouth on it?” She asked on a whim. Usually she thought of it as demeaning, but he was just too cute. She loved the way he broke into another blush, stammering in an effort to say she didn’t have to do it if she didn’t want to. She didn’t have a choice when he tried so hard to say no.

Caster moved off the bed and got on her knees in front of him, stroking his dick all the while. She knew how to pleasure men. It was just a matter of knowing what they liked and she was pleased to note that, thus far, he didn’t seem to have a preference. Just being touched, being stimulated was enough to get him off so the things she could do would probably make him go crazy.

She pumped her hand up and down his length, enjoying herself as he bit his lip to hold back a moan. She went fast before stopping just to breathe on him, breaking her pace to blow on the tip before speeding up again. Her hand felt so hot that her breath felt like ice. The sensation was so good that he shuddered, but she had ways to make it better.

She took him into her mouth.

“Ah!” He gripped her slender shoulders as she teased him, pulling him out only to usher his member back in with her tongue. It still felt so much better than he imagined it would. It was wet. Cool at first, but then just as warm as the hand she gripped him with. “Caster! It-”

“Shhh…” She moved her head back just to quiet him, just so she could hear the sounds she made once she sealed her lips around the tip. She sucked, not hard, but just enough to draw another groan out of him before she stopped. “I didn’t know…” She whispered before licking the tip. “I didn’t know you were so cute.”

She made eye contact with him as she took him into her mouth again. His expression couldn’t be any more delicious as he watched her bob her head up and down his length. He tightened his grip on her shoulders as she sped up. She had to be making those noises on purpose and the way she worked her tongue made it feel like he had a fever.

“Caster…” He could feel it coming. It was too hard to hold it in when she was licking him like that and sounds she was making were too much. “I’m—Ahh!—I’m going to-” She moved her head back, his dick slipping from between her lips with the motion, but she continued to stroke him until he reached the peak of his pleasure. “Ahh…”

Thick streams of white landed on her face, most of it ending up on her chest. The apologetic look on his face was good, but she liked it like that. She liked seeing it shoot out and didn’t care if it got in her hair or on her face. She coaxed as much as she could out of him, licking what was left on his dick before she stood up and kissed him.

She caught him by surprise, the muffled yelp hidden inside the kiss she sprung on him. The mint she tasted suited him well and she liked the way it mingled with the taste of his seed. She shared the taste with him as she grabbed the base of his neck and leaned into the kiss.

Caster spun him around, knocking over the small pile of books left at the bedside before she forced him backwards. The back of his legs caught the edge of the bed and he fell with her on top of him. The kiss didn’t end. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, their sweat mixed, her tongue wrestled with his, and she kept her eyes open the whole time.

She was in control.

Caster smirked as she pulled back, straddling him as she kept eye contact. She meant to make him taste his own semen and, at the thought, used her finger to collect what was left on her cheek. She licked her finger clean, the gooey white leaving with the lump that went down her neck.

The look in his eyes was mesmerizing, seemingly hypnotizing her. She was smothering him with her sexuality. He was out of his comfort zone, the unwarranted intimacy that came with sex forcing him to give her more of himself than he ever gave anyone else. He was vulnerable, undeniably exposed and witness to how nasty she could be when she wanted to. She batted her sultry eyes at him, smiling as she remembered that she was actively taking his innocence.

She was going to take his virginity.

Emboldened, she advanced on him with intentions of doing so fresh in her mind, but first things came first. She lifted her hips and shuffled her knees forward. Shirou looked up and blushed at the blatant invitation she offered him by putting her sex right in his face. She lowered herself, her thighs flanking his head as she reached down and further embarrassed him by spreading her labia.

He stared intently at the folds of coral pink slick with moisture. The tip of his nose brushed against some of the purple hair that framed her entrance and he took in her scent. She smelled vaguely of flowers and it mingled with her musk. It aroused him all the same. He was curious and anxious, the glistening pink just as intimidating as the gorgeous woman that waited on him to act.

He kissed her. He pressed his lips against her opening, but that wasn’t what she wanted. Caster scooted up. The fingers she used to part the petals of her sex moved farther apart. “Relax…” She whispered before she dipped a finger inside of herself and made sure he saw it slip in and out. “I want you to do that.”

“I… I can’t move my arms though.” He felt silly saying it since it wasn’t that hard to notice. “You’re on top of-”

“You’re too cute, boy…” Her braid tickled his face as she looked down and chuckled, succeeding in making him feel like a fool as she complimented him for not knowing what to do. She locked eyes with her master as her laughter died down and never looked away. “I know you can’t use your hands. I want you to use your tongue.”

He nodded. Instead of his lips, the tip of his tongue neared her waiting slit and came into contact with it. He licked her. He started from the fingers wet with her own juices to the moisture hidden in the delicate petals of her sex. She moaned, the sound so incredibly sexy that he had to hear it again. Instead of doing what she wanted, he licked her again. She cursed, throwing her head back in ecstasy and balling up the sheets in her hand as his tongue worked up and down her slit. He did it again and again, her moaning continued until she started to grind herself against him in obvious frustration. The friction was almost good enough to make her cry, but it just wasn’t what she wanted. Good but long seconds passed as his tongue ran up and down her sex and across her clit before he finally dipped inside of her.

“Umm!” She was loud, louder than she had ever been before. “D-Deeper!” She demanded as she opted to clench fistfuls of his hair. The way his tongue played in her passage was so close to teasing that she started to get angry, but it felt too good to stop. “Deep—Ah! Yes! Just like… Yes… Just like that.”

She rubbed herself, shaking fingers all too eager to find what she wanted to touch as his tongue delved in her depths. She was wet before he started but, under the attention of his tongue and thanks to impatient action of her fingers, she was literally dripping. He was making sounds, not intentionally like she was doing. The way he paused every now and then to catch his breath, the wet, almost sloshing sound that was coming from between her legs… It was so arousing because he was trying so hard. She could hear it every time he kissed her. She could feel the warmth, the moisture, he left behind. It felt too good. Her world started to tilt and she lost herself.

Her breathing started to pick up and she couldn’t focus on anything. Her orgasm stole her from reality and she lived in it as long as she could. She slumped forward, shaking from the sheer feeing of having his tongue still wiggling inside of her even as she tightened around it. She wanted to say something, but it felt too good to waste any effort she could spend on enjoying herself on words.

“S-Shirou…”

He didn’t stop and she came again.

She panted as she reluctantly lifted her hips and looked at the first person that ever did something like that for her. If she had known it felt so good she would have asked someone to do it before, but she didn’t give herself time to reflect on the past. She moved so she could kiss him, her hunger for him driving her to find his lips as fast as she could. He was ready for her kiss and responded to it with just as much lust. His hand found her naked back and he grasped it as they kissed. They crushed their lips together, both of them trying to get as much as they could out of the passion they found together.

Shirou groped her and she broke the kiss with an audible gasp. He was trying to be dirty. She smiled as he gave her supple breast another squeeze and she began the kiss anew. She licked his lips, taking one of his between hers and sucking on it before she invaded his mouth with her tongue. She reached down and grabbed what had been poking her in the thigh since she initiated the kiss. He groaned, the kiss halted as she pulled back to see his expression.

She wasted no time taking things to the next level.

“Ahh!”

“Ummh…”

It was too sudden, too fast but neither of them complained as she worked herself up and down. She took all of his length in one go and did it again without pause. Her pace was brutal, sweat dripping and breasts swaying as she all but bounced in his lap. He held onto her at the waist, his thrusts in time with hers as they moved like they were in heat. Every time she was going down, he was going up and they met hard and fast.

It almost hurt, but the line between pleasure and pain only heightened the experience. He went in and out and she cried out every time in slammed into her. His hands left her hips in favor of holding her as close as possible. Her hair whipped at her back thanks to the violent pace, strands of it stuck to the sweat on her skin.

The bed screeched under the stress, but the only sound she paid any attention to was the way he repeated her name. He said it like he was in a trance as he pounded into her and she wanted to hear him say it forever. No, she thought in a fleeting moment of clarity, she wanted to hear him say her name. Her real name. “M-Medea…” She huffed out, the hiccup in her voice thanks to the being rocked by every thrust. “P-Please… C-Call me M-Medea.”

“Medea…”

Medea nearly swooned, her pale face immediately taking color the moment he said it in a breathy moan. The sounds he was making practically made her salivate. She was making him feel as good as she felt so that meant he had to be just as close as she was.

“Shirou… I’m… I’m—Oooh!”

It snuck up on her and her world blurred around the edges. Her climax took her by surprise and she lost herself in it again. Details were lost in the midst of such pleasure. Vaguely, she was aware that he was still going but then she felt it. She felt herself contract around him. She felt his seed shoot inside her and then she felt something else. The contract sealed by contact eroded in the heat of their union and was reborn. It felt like the air around them was charged with electricity, every little moment sending a shock of pure, unfiltered ecstasy racing up and down their spines.

Two more jets of semen splashed inside her and they both shivered, trembling in the wake of their respective orgasms. It was over. Shirou lifted his head from her chest and Medea looked down at him. They looked at each other in the candlelight, the sheen of sweat just as easy to see as the lust in each others eyes. They didn’t want it to be over. Neither said anything as he bowed his head. The same lips that called her by a name she never thought she would hear again teased her nipple and her breath caught.

He was slow, methodical, and deliberate with his movements. He pinched the nub between his teeth before he licked it. He massaged her chest, groping then kneading her breasts with a soft, affectionate touch.

That alone wouldn’t get her off, but she liked it. It felt good by itself, but knowing that he was doing it just for her made it feel so much better. His length started to swell inside of her and she swallowed hard in anticipation of what he was going to do next. She was pleasantly surprised when he craned his neck to kiss her. Medea exhaled, content with the faint kisses he left along her jaw and around her choker.

She wanted to tell him he didn’t have to hold back. He didn’t have a reason to be nervous anymore, but words didn’t suit the setting. She told him with her body. She smiled before she angled her head to catch one of his kisses on her lips. It was light, not even a fraction as heavy as the kisses they shared before. She hoped he could understand and he did when he slowly started to move against her.

She looked down and watched his dick disappear into her. It was warm. It fit so snugly inside her passage. He filled her up and, every time he pulled back, she felt empty until he forced himself back into her wet center. The flame on top of the candle wavered because of the breath she let out and flickered back to life as nuzzled her head against his shoulder. Her breaths were short and measured, coming just as slow as their meeting.

The frenzy of lust that captivated them was gone. They were making love, savoring each other for the first time. They didn’t need to talk anymore. Anything that needed to be voiced didn’t have to be heard since it was felt. It was a level of understanding that scared him and unnerved her, but it was something they needed. It was something they wanted.

They wanted each other.

Medea joined him, moving her hips in time with him and catching the rhythm he already established. What they were doing had nothing to do with his prana. She had long since gave him an ample portion of what she had. He started touching her, kissing her because he wanted her to feel good and she was doing the same.

She felt him throb inside her and his climax followed. She stared at him, watching his face as he clenched his eyes closed and rode the effects of his orgasm. When he opened his eyes, he saw her but it felt like he was looking at her for the first time. With the glow of the candlelight illuminating her face, Medea looked happy and satisfied. The contours of her face seemed to trace her smile as she stared at him with sharp, violet eyes. His eyes left hers and found her ears. They were pointy and angular, an accident that resulted from an experiment. She felt strangely insecure before he shared a smile with her and pulled errant strands of purple away from her face.

She, too, saw him in new light. She looked him in the eyes plenty of times before, but it wasn’t until he smiled that she thought to notice the color. They were pretty, cute enough that she wanted to hug him. They were a murky gold. It was a dirty, dark color but, the longer she looked, the brighter they seemed.

“I…” Shirou cleared his throat, uncomfortable with breaking the silence they kept on purpose. “I don’t feel any different.” He cringed after he said it, the way he phrased it haunting him as her expression changed.

Medea moved to get off his lap. “You don’t think I concocted a scheme to have sex with you, do you?” She backed up, slipping her legs off the bed before standing up in front of him. She reached a finger down and collected the semen that dribbled down the inside of her thigh. “It was the reinforcement.” She explained, parting her sex and allowing him to see how much of his essence dripped out. “If I didn’t cast that spell then you would hardly be able to move. You’ll feel it in a little while. You’ll probably be sore when you wake up, too.”

“Thank you…” He looked away, blushing as she took her finger into her mouth. “Thank you, Medea.”

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. We have a contract.” He must have forgotten who she was. She was the vindictive and bitter witch that stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. Slanderous lies branded on her character by the masses that didn’t know her but, with time, lies that became true. She was a bad person. She knew as much, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of honoring a deal. She wasn’t a backstabber. She could still be fair provided she given the chance. “You kept your word and I kept mine…”

That meant that it was really over.

She had already made the change, but it wasn’t until she turned her back to him that he realized she was picking back up the role she dropped with her clothes. With the things she said, she willingly stepped off the fringes of intimacy and shielded the heart she allowed him to touch. She was a servant. She was Caster again and Medea no more.

He watched her make the transition. The lovely eyes that told him so many things were strained and guarded when she turned to pluck her clothes off the floor and the heavenly smile she showed him was long gone. Her expression was blank, her eyes empty as she gathered her things and motioned to leave the room.

“Wait…” He knew how she felt because he knew what she was thinking. She had sex with him solely because he saved her from Gilgamesh. They were even now. They were back to hating each other.

“Wait!”

That wasn’t what he wanted. It wasn’t what he wanted at all. He wanted her to understand that he wasn’t thanking her because she saved his life. Shirou scampered off the bed, but his foot caught the sheets and wrapped around his leg. She stopped for the wrong reason as she heard the thump behind her and turned to find her master struggling to get back up.

The temporary enhancement lost its effect and the only thing he felt was pain. It felt like every muscle in his body was splitting, every nerve snapping. It was a familiar feeling. It was one he experienced every time he projected a sword, but the sensation spread throughout his body. He was hopelessly hurt. The fact that he couldn’t move his mouth without his eyes watering something that made him think twice about trying to get back up.

He just didn’t want her to misunderstand.

“I should have made the spell last longer.” Caster cursed as she stepped over the things she dropped in her haste and kneeled at his side. There were no spells she knew that could relieve him of his pain. Though she resented being called one, she really was a witch. She excelled at destruction so it was only natural that she’d be lost when it came to healing someone.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t try.

“I don’t hate you.”

He broke her concentration, the words she thought to chant forgotten as she stared down at him. He was smiling at her. The boy that killed Soichiro was smiling at her. She was relieved and appalled, happy and dejected all at the same time. Her feelings conflicted and her heart suffered, but there was an undeniable truth that surfaced in the face of her despair.

She didn’t hate him, either.

He reached out to her, smiling as he struggled to do just that much and she grasped his hand. It was warm. She wanted to say something, but her throat felt tight. She was happy. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t blame him, that she was just as sorry that things happened the way they did. She was angry. All she wanted her whole life was someone to hold out a hand for her and not ask for anything in return. She just wanted someone to accept her and Shirou did, but why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t she have met him earlier?

Caster rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand and across the marks that symbolized absolute obedience. Command spells. The entire concept was revolting, but the hand that touched her face brought thoughts of her new master to the forefront.

Shirou was naïve. He was incredibly naïve. Sex was just sex, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he made a connection with her. She took his virginity, but the feelings he sought in her to fill where his innocence used to be just weren’t there. It was cute, but it was wrong. She couldn’t let him look at her like that. She couldn’t let him do that to himself.

Caster pulled his hand down from her face. “Master,” She was formal on purpose as she sought to distance herself from the unconditional affection that she longed for her whole life. “We can’t.” She said it quickly, preferring to keep it as brief and blunt as she possibly could. “We…”

She noticed too late that he was sleeping, peacefully napping on her lap. He was already that comfortable around her? It was that easy for him to let his guard down? She squeezed the hand she held before intertwining her fingers with his. He slept on undisturbed and she watched him.

The grail… Her revenge could wait a little longer.

==+==

“Medea!”

Shirou wasted no time ascending the steps that led to the temple, the first place he thought to look for her. He ran as fast as he could, skipping over the stone steps two or three at a time until he saw the gate. He was wary, ready to project a weapon just in case until he remembered Assassin was long gone. If there was something at the temple, it was waiting for him beyond the gate.

He arrived at the top and walked into the courtyard. She was there, in front of the temple doors sitting on the steps that led up to them. He stopped running and opted to wait for her to say something.

“Shirou…”

She did.

She greeted him from where she sat with her hood masking her face. She stood, walking out from under the shadows and into the moonlight. She stopped just like he did, right in front of him.

“I was waiting.” She usually exuded confidence, but her voice was little more than a whisper as they faced each other under the night sky. “I was thinking about you.”

He already knew he slept for more than a day. There wasn’t a full moon the night he went to the church so he rushed around the city hoping to catch sight of her or the grail before she used it. It was a surprise to find that she was waiting for him in the first place he thought to search.

“You didn’t get the grail…?”

“Oh, it’s here.” Medea muttered, her frown easy to see from where he stood. She turned around and extended her arm to point to the side. Shirou turned, muted shock marring his expression as he was struck speechless. Ilya was there, hanging in the air with something black oozing out of the void behind her. It was something about the inky black that disgusted him. It made his flesh crawl. It was nasty, the way it swished around reminding him of rancid milk so spoiled it turned black, but his primary concern was the girl that hovered above it.

“Ilya!” She didn’t respond. “Ilya!! Say something!” He yelled before turning to look at the woman next to him. Disbelief was engraved in his eyes. The hope that she didn’t betray him noted in the way he looked at her. “You…” He stared, praying he was wrong as he turned his attention back to the girl he left at his home. “You didn’t…”

“Look closer.”

He did. Something else was there. Someone was laying, face-down, in the black and Shirou immediately knew it was the wayward priest. He already knew what kind of person Kotomine was. It meant she wasn’t responsible.

“I don’t understand.” He started walking towards Ilya intent on getting her down before whatever swallowed Kotomine got on her. “I don’t know what he was trying to do, but I’m going to save her.”

“No,” She stopped him with one word. “You’re not.”

It wasn’t until she spoke that it clicked in his mind. Ilya wasn’t there just because she was supposed to be a hostage. She was there for a reason. She was there because she had something to do with the grail and…

Caster wanted the grail.

“I’m going to get my wish.” Her wish. It was the reason she fought so hard. It was the reason she lived on even though her master died, but she wouldn’t ignore his kindness. “I waited for you to give you a chance!” That was the only way she could respond to his feelings. “I’m giving you the chance to stop me, Shirou!”

The command spells.

He could give her an order that bended her will, an order that she couldn’t refuse no matter what it was. He still had all three of them. All it took was just one, probably two if she resisted enough, and that’d be it.

“What would happen to Ilya if you had your wish?”

“She’d die, but she doesn’t have long to live anyway.” Caster looked at the black, the concentrated sins with the consistency of sludge. It was living darkness that cursed everything it touched and it was the only thing that could give her what she wanted. “Use the command spell now or I make my wish.”

There was someone to protect.

“I don’t want to fight with you but…” Shirou held out his hand and a sword appeared. “I can’t let Ilya die.”

She was angry, her hands balling into fists as he decided not to use the spells to his advantage. She was a servant. She was easily capable of killing him, but she was also a woman. She was a woman that was used to being used, a woman that was used to being hated, so she could only be angry at his sincerity.

She wanted her wish more than anything in the world, but she was tired of killing. She waited on him because she didn’t want to take away another person that was important to him. She waited on him knowing that he’d use his command spells to stop her, but it was clear he wasn’t going to use them. He was trying to do things the hard way. He was offering her a chance because she gave him one.

He was being kind to her.

“Put away your sword…” He never ceased to amaze her. She found herself smiling, frustrated feelings gone as she watched the sword he projected disappear. She knew she didn’t have the heart to fight him. “Get the homunculus and leave this place, Shirou.”

“Thanks…” He was honestly relieved to see that she didn’t want to fight, but it confused him even more. Did she give up on her wish that easily? “What about you?”

“What about me?” She thought out loud, speaking as she walked towards him and the grail. She stopped in front of him and pulled off her hood to get one last good look at him. He looked up at her, patiently waiting for her response as the darkness behind him feasted on the priest. “I…”

She didn’t know.

Shirou extended his hand towards her after she trailed off. He wanted to touch her. He was serious but blushing, awkward in the way he expressed the feelings he shouldn’t have for her. It was cute, but she thought long and hard before she smiled at him and moved past the hand he held out to her.

She kissed him on the forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

She straightened her back and playfully rubbed a hand in his short, unruly locks of red. His head was bowed, eyes directed at the ground as she shared a private moment with him. There was nothing he could say. She had already made up her mind.

“Medea… Stay with me.”

But he could try.

He got nervous when she stopped playing with his hair and retracted her hand. He didn’t have the heart to look up so he kept his head bowed. He knew on some level he should be ashamed of himself, but Caster wasn’t the person he spent the night with. Medea wasn’t the witch that killed people or kidnapped Saber. He liked her.

She didn’t say anything so he steeled himself before lifting his head. He started from her legs, her lithe figure easy to make out even under the dress she wore. The dress was tapered at the waist, accenting the curves she hid under layers of enchanted cloth. He held his breath as he looked above her chest and, finally, at her face.

“We can talk later.” Her cheeks were bright red, her eyes angled away from him as she pulled her hood back up. “Let us rescue the girl first.”

She was right.

He didn’t forget about Ilya. The reason he didn’t go and get her was still there, twisting and turning like it was trying to eat itself. It had already claimed Kotomine as its first victim and he wouldn’t let there be a second. Bravely, he ventured forward but the hand that grabbed him stopped him before he even took a step.

Caster let her hand slip off his shoulder as he looked over it to face her. She smiled at him, the greater part of her face obscured by her hood as she moved forward in his place. She chanted, magical words bending the laws of nature just enough for it to cater to her will. Ilya glowed before completely being enveloped in light so bright that Shirou covered his eyes with his arm. A blink later Ilya was on the ground in front of him and the contents of the grail, the collected sins that cursed the world, were incased in a translucent sphere surrounded by colorful runes.

Even a novice like him could feel the shift in the atmosphere as she finished chanting. After he bent to pick up Ilya, Caster snapped her fingers and night turned into day. He slammed his eyes shut and pulled the girl to his chest as the explosion hurled him backwards. He skipped along the ground, his shirt ripping and his jeans ruined as he bounced and rolled to a stop far from where he was standing.

“Unn…” Shirou shook the debris out of his hair and strained to get back up without letting go of the girl in his arms. With his legs hurt and his balance shaken, he fell before he could even get back to his feet. His back returned to the ground and the weight of Ilya knocked the breath out of him even though she wasn’t at all heavy.

“I… I didn’t expect it to be that strong.” He could hear her voice before he saw her face. Caster looked down at him from where she stood and successfully blocked out his view of the sky. He watched her turn her head to the side to assess the damage he couldn’t see. “If I had known I would have warned you…” She turned back towards him. “Are you alright?”

He nodded since he didn’t yet catch the breath he lost. He was hurt. His clothes showed that much, but friction burns were nothing compared to being nearly cut in half or being hit by magic. He was touched that she asked, but there was something he expected her to be more worried about than his wellbeing.

“Your wish…”

“That thing didn’t grant wishes.” The servant said it with ease and even seemed to be in a good mood as she took off her robe. Bending over, she draped it over the naked girl and her master. “Well, maybe it could but…” Caster took a seat on the ground next to him. “Something that filthy could never grant my wish.”

It wasn’t until he arrived at the temple that she realized as much. Good things could come even in times of bad, but evil of that magnitude yielded nothing except curses. A small part of her was angry, enraged that what she fought for was nothing other than a pool of concentrated hate, but she couldn’t be mad since it was the war itself that granted her real wish. Twice.

Shirou eased the sleeping girl off of him and placed her to the side. Pausing to make sure that she was comfortable, he placed a hand on the ground to steady himself as he sat up and turned towards the woman sitting next to him. His eyes shifted from her to the crater she made and then to the stars she looked at.

He thought to ask her another question, but ended up just looking at her instead. She looked happy even though all her scheming and all her pain were in vain. She fought, but she ended up with nothing. It was a sad ending any way he looked at it. He asked her to stay, but he wasn’t capable of granting any wishes. He didn’t have anything to give her.

Abruptly, his sharp eyes immediately snapped to the side. Something was touching him. He almost pulled his hand back just on reflex until he realized that it was her. Her fingers were touching his. It had to be unintentional. In hindsight, it was probably him that touched her.

“Shirou.”

She kept her head tilted up as she looked at the night sky. She moved her hand on top of his. She didn’t have to look at him to know that he was blushing and he caught the red on her cheeks when he faced her. It was a moment of open affection, the feelings he found in her reciprocated and returned for the first time.

“Keep your command spells.” Caster covered his hand with her own as she spoke so softly he had to lean closer to hear her. “As long as you have them… I can stay with you.” It was more of a theory than anything else but, since she didn’t already disappear, she believed it would hold.

The important thing was that he never used them and, in fact, never ordered her to do anything. He accepted the contact for her sake. She was the one hiding, putting him in danger just because she didn’t want to die. He saved her from Gilgamesh. He beat him for her so she offered her body to repay her debt. She left him that night intent on using the grail for herself until he arrived and, possibly, saved her again.

He didn’t tell or order her to do anything because he expected her to disobey him. It was because he never saw her as a servant in the first place. He already had a servant and she already had a master even if the people that filled those roles were long gone. She was Medea and he just wanted to be Shirou.

She wasn’t a witch anymore. She didn’t have any reason to scheme in the shadows. Acknowledging as much lifted a weight off her shoulders and she felt just as relieved as he did that everything was over. Though there certainly was something sad about her future being left on the back of someone else’s hand, as long as she had a future she wasn’t one to complain.

Medea was the first to stand back up. She dusted herself off before using a spell to fix the courtyard the same way she fixed the church. The wounds she left on the Earth were filled and mended before his eyes as the sun peeked over the horizon. Instead of the swirling dirt and chucks of rocks, Shirou looked at the same sky she was staring at earlier.

“I’m only skilled at magic so it is the only thing I can teach you.” She was done, the crater was gone and the courtyard looked better than it did when she first saw it.

“That’s not true.” It was nice to hear her talk about the days ahead, but there were plenty of things he could learn from her. “I mean I’ll appreciate it, but there are tons of things we can do together. You don’t have to worry about being useful or anything, either. Just having you around will be enough for me.”

“I was just saying that it’s not many things I’m good at…” She obviously wasn’t a normal woman. “I don’t know how to cook, I do not know how to wash clothes, and-”

“Ha… Don’t worry.” Shirou scratched the side of his face as he cut in. He wasn’t a normal high school student. “I’m good at things like that. Just do what you like to do.”

“Well, I like crafting and…” It was a secret she never shared, but the peaceful face that looked up at what remained of the stars gave her no reason to hesitate. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know. “I like making things cute.”

Just hearing the word made erotic thoughts of her come to mind. It was definitely her fetish. “I…” He coughed, taking the time to turn away to hide his blush as he spoke. “I s-see…”

“And…” He titled his head back and looked behind him as the sun touched the sky. Without her robe she looked strangely vulnerable, more so since her hands were clasped together in front of her chest. “I used a lot more prana than I intended to.”

Shirou found her smile contagious as he pulled the sleeping girl into his arms and got up. With some fumbling, he made it so one of his arms was free. “Let’s go home.”

He held out his hand knowing what she was asking of him and she accepted it knowing what it meant to hold it. As the sun dyed the sky and the birds started to sing, she decided to leave her old self in yesterday.

“Medea?”

“Yes…” The woman in question blinked and lowered her eyes from the alluring, early morning sky. It looked just like it did in his reality marble except happier, brighter with the presence of the sun and the radiance of its rays. That wasn’t the reason she was happy, though.

It was a new day, the morning that symbolized the beginning of a new relationship and the start of her new life. It was exciting and scary at the same time, but it was an adventure she was ready to take with him.

“Yes,” She said it again, with more confidence as her smile came back to life. Happy and loving life for the first time since she could remember, she gave his hand a reassuring squeeze before taking a step forward. “Let’s go.”

Fin

Author’s Note: What up? Me? I’m just messing with some TM stuff a bit. Got to get back to some of my other stories, but, before anything else, thanks for reading.

CF