War was tiring; the constant bloodshed, causalities, and forced vigilance imposed slowly wearing away at the stability of the mind. The Saxons knew this better than anyone after fairing against the terror of seeing hundreds of comrades slaughtered at the mere swing of a Holy Sword.

Cursed King Arthur.

The only saving grace against that man was numbers, as it was impossible for King Arthur to be in one place all at once. The man could annihilate fortified barricades and defensive walls in a single slash, forcing the Saxons to adopt mobile tactics. Scouts would be sent beforehand to verify King Arthur's location, and should he be heading in the direction of an outpost, the outpost would quickly vacate and lure King Arthur away. Said outpost was not made of fortified stone, but rudimentarily materials able to be taken down and stored quickly for reassembly at a later date. Of course, there were accidents and King Arthur could appear without warning; however, it would be at a cost.

While King Arthur attacked an outpost, the other Saxons stationed throughout the Saxo-Britain border would mount an initiative, forcing King Arthur to retreat in order to rally his knights. This back and forth had been happening for years, and was the main deterrent against King Arthur marching a war path to Saxon-ruled Kent. A King's duty was to his people, and King Arthur embodied that principle to a fault such that it was used against him. However, such tactics would never lead to any long-term results unless King Arthur was dealt with.

In the end, this war had been going on for years. When would it all end?

Both sides were growing weary from the fighting and now for the Saxons it was no longer just a war to obtain livelihood for the future, it became a war of succession- a civil war.

Who was in the right and who was in the wrong?

For all her faults, Lady Natalie was beloved by her Saxon subjects of lower status. She hardly took part in military meetings, and only attended when instructed by her father Hengist. For the most part, she'd spent her time trying to pass laws, tax cuts, and infrastructure that would make things easier for the common subjects of Kent and the lands of Wessex.

Horsa on the other hand, maintained stability with his rule. Under his guidance, not once had the British armies been able to march upon the central lands of Kent. Though a brutish and short-tempered uncle to Natalie, he kept his people safe with an iron hand in military affairs. The warriors revered and respected him with even the common folk accepting his rule. Unlike Hengist, Natalie had always enjoyed an amicable relationship with her uncle who'd doted on her during their times together.

To Natalie, this war of succession carried more than just the weight of her people's lives. It carried the weight of her betrayal to her uncle; yet couldn't he see her motivation? If Horsa knew Natalie as well as Natalie knew Horsa, then he should understand that she would never stage a rebellion lightly.

Although the Saxons had enjoyed a year of peace without the grim reaper that was King Arthur taking to the battlefield, it was simply the calm before the storm. Natalie knew better than to believe the rumours going around that suggested that King Arthur had died or grew ill based on some mishap during a war campaign. She knew the truth.

In the year that King Arthur was strangely absent from the frontlines, it wasn't because he died. The rumour about King Arthur being ill was the closest to the truth as the legendary figure was bed-ridden for close to a month before 'King Arthur' had born two heirs, a prince and a princess. Of course, such information was unknown to the Saxons as they couldn't send spies deep into Camelot's territory, but the word of a new King taking Arthur's place was gaining traction.

At the time, Natalie could picture her uncle laughing belatedly at the news as it gave credence to the rumours surrounding King Arthur's disappearance from the battlefield. The monster was gone, defeated or perhaps incapacitated. Saxon efforts to end the war against the Britons intensified with many skirmishes and battled occurring by the border patrolled by the Knights of the Round.

Victory felt eminent, but this simply wasn't the case. The situation was far worse for the Saxons than it seemed. King Arthur was gone, but in his place came Queen Arturia and the last heir of House Ashton now heralded as King. A King that not only had the support of his wife and people, but the strength to rival Arthur, and the innovation to revolutionize an era if he so wished.

The new King had called upon Camelot's brightest minds and drew them a picture of what was called a 'crossbow' at the beckoning of Head-minister Agravain. Agravain had pointed out the issue of untrained archers in Camelot to man defensive position, and had struggled with finding a solution that didn't involve taking archer's away from the front line. Tristan's experience would have been ideal at this point, but he'd taken a leave of absence to visit his lover Iseult.

Archery was a skill that had to be honed, meaning that raising up new archers couldn't be rushed. A crossbow that even peasants could use? Well, this changes everything.

Natalie remembered the way Agravain grudgingly looked at Shirou in wonder for his insight, but Shirou looked distinctly uncomfortable in the limelight. In his words, all he did was provide a sketch. Camelot's scholars and inventors would be the real force behind the crossbow's manufacturing. Regardless, Shirou didn't seem to understand the real worth of the sketch he'd made. Meanwhile, the scholars and tactical minds of Camelot were under the impression that their new King was in fact a lazy genius.

The sight of Camelot's prosperity and rapidly growing infrastructure had been Natalie's turning point. Worse yet, when the prince and princess grew to an age where their mother would no longer have to constantly fret on them, the Saxons would end up facing two monsters.

Sorry Uncle. Forgive me, but this war must be fought, for everyone's sake.

Early intervention was best.

The meeting with Gale, Edgar, and the other Saxon leaders had concluded with Arturia gaining leadership rights alongside the other commanders. They wouldn't give Arturia all their men to command, but each commander did send a small unit under Arturia.

All that was left now was to begin the war.

With a heavy heart, Natalie resolved herself to confront her uncle's armies.

Thunder echoed in the heavens, violent winds heralding the coming of a turbulent storm. Signs of nature from the swaying of the grass to the darkening of the skies, could all be interpreted as the hallmark of greater powers at work.

Through the eyes of the ravens, and upon the great structures of the earth, it is said that those above watch on from an imperial vista upon the world of man. They who observe as man becomes legend, and legend becomes history. The curtains fall over a quaint mountain lookout positioned near a flat plain in the heart of Saxon territory. The structure was made of carved stone etched into the mountainside and fortified by pieces of chopped timber roped together and propped up into a sentry wall.

A week had passed, and word in Kent was that skirmishes between fellow Saxons had began throughout the kingdom's outer borders, prompting Horsa to bolster defensive tactics against his own men. Civil War was a fickle thing where the trust of the sovereign and his people reach the deepest divide. Only those of close ties to the crown could be relied upon. In which case, Horsa had given up the border platoons at the edge of the Kingdom to minimize the risk of subterfuge and turn-coating.

Meet Astrid Harger, unofficial commander of Kent's seventh brigade nearest to the border with Sussex and north of Dover fort, a strategic armoury. She was the daughter of one of Horsa's prided brothers-in-arms. She came with her easily influenced younger brother who was the official commander in charge of the battalion. He was earnest and a tough warrior, but he was no leader.

Astrid's father must have known about her brother's shortcomings as her father had made no move to stop her from sneaking out of the family estate and joining her brother's battalion. Even if she wasn't the legitimate leader, her brother listened to her, and this by proxy gave her authority.

Astrid's raven-like eyes narrowed upon the horizon. She'd run away from home to advise her brother; therefore, she was in disguise in the army camp lest she be marched back home by one of her father's loyal men who were unaware of escapade. She wore a sutton hoo helmet over her face while the rest of her body was draped in tight leathers and iron pads to obscure her bosom and womanly curves.

She was acting as a scout or sentry. She couldn't deal with all the drinking occurring in Dover fort. There were plans to begin constructing it into a formidable castle, and this had made the stationed men lax. After all, who would possibly dare to attack Dover fort? Not only were its defences strong, but it was strategically placed upon high-hills with deep trenches dug around the entire structure. A dozen or so men could easily repel an attack of fifty or more upon the fort's battlements. There was no tension at all despite word of a civil war, and she couldn't remain that idle.

Astrid knew that she was being something of a kill-joy for constantly fretting when the odds of attack were unlikely, but there was no harm in just standing as a sentry. She was on a tall watch tower which gave her the whole view of the extending plains. It would also give her enough time to retreat back to Dover fort and inform her brigade to ready themselves in case of an attack.

She'd been at her post for the past two hours now and she'd grown somewhat complacent. She found a chair, propped it up by the edge of the watch tower, and simply sat rather than remain standing. By this point, even she was beginning to feel that her vigilance was pointless; however, this all changed in an instant.

She abruptly sat up to the feel of vibrations travelling up from the ground. Were the Gods angry again and causing a natural disaster?

Spooked, Astrid hurriedly shoved her chair aside and began surveying the distant plains only to see a battalion of unknown individuals marching into view.

Was it an enemy?

She squinted and quickly scrutinized their armours only to see Saxon war apparel; the round shields made of wood and natural glue were the biggest give away. They were comrades then, or were they really? Her suspicions only grew as she knew from her father that the rumours about a brewing civil war were indeed true. At the same time though, she couldn't carelessly assume the worst from potential allies.

Who are you?

Her thoughts were running rampant in her mind, her hands clenching and unclenching as she licked her suddenly dry lips. Each Saxon unit had distinctive traits. They didn't carry a coat-of-arms on their shields like the English Knights did, but the Saxons did carry banners. In this case, Astrid's focus shifted to the war standard held aloft by the incoming battalion's left flank horseman. Engraved upon the standard was a single name.

Gunhildr.

She'd never heard of that unit before even in the capital, and she'd often sat in with her father for military discussions. Was it newly established? Even so, shouldn't they have sent word to Kent first? She frowned, but readied herself to run back to camp regardless.

Her intuition was warning her that she shouldn't take this matter lightly. She was part of a brigade, a unit composed of several battalions. Even if she didn't raise the alarm, their side far outnumbered the unknown battalion and they had Dover fort occupied. There shouldn't be any need for too much alarm, yet she couldn't shake off her feeling of weariness.

The skies shuddered and darkened, clouds rolling in from the direction of the unknown battalion. Where the battalion marched, the clouds and thunder followed. The crows flew through the air, two ravens joining the fray and gliding amidst the oncoming downpour. The sight was surreal, otherworldly.

A flash of lightning struck down a hair's breath away from her, and Astrid found herself at a loss for words at the unnatural phenomenon.

Mighty Odin the All-knowing, watch over us.

Astrid gritted her teeth and ran back to Dover fort as fast as her legs could take her.

I'll omens loomed ahead.

Everything was going just as planned. Arturia had not felt the thrill of conquest in years. Once upon a time, it had been the sole reason she'd been able to keep living despite her life filled with constant regrets. She'd believed that if anything good could come from her actions, she could at least die after she'd liberated her country. Now though? Now it was different.

She fought not only for her ideals, but on the instinct of a parent to create a world or environment safe for their children. Shameful as it was to admit as a woman who grew up raised as a Knight, but her duties and obligations to her people were not as strong a motivator as peace for her family and friends.

Did that disqualify her from upholding the rules of chivalry? For some, the answer would be yes, but to Merlin, he'd explained it as a matter of necessity. Believe what you want so long as the convictions of your heart always remain firm. If neither you or your loved ones can't doubt nor see evil in your actions then surely you are in the right when the masses rally under your cause.

Hail Queen Arturia, fairest of them all, and gentler than any.

Arturia's nature had not changed after becoming a Queen. Instead, it had mellowed and allowed her to express herself in ways she couldn't as King. She visited the townsfolk and constantly wished them well. To the families of the departed Knights and volunteers, her brothers-in-arms, she visited their doors and had lowered her head regardless of status.

Humility, modesty, and a heart that was in the right place, she was adored for it, but never saw past her shortcomings as a noble woman to actually see it. It was endearing in way that her husband Shirou would never be able to explain to her. It was implicit, just as the silent devotion her people showered her in.

The Witch Morgan used to be considered under the title Morgan the Fair, but in contrast, Arturia was granted a title of greater honour: Mother of the Kingdom. Her care for her people and unwavering charisma earned her the admiration of her subjects. An ideal Queen wed to a capable King.

Regardless of any title or how people viewed her, for Arturia, only one thing was true. She felt the most useful on the frontlines.

Right and right now, she was in her element as Commander of the battalion 'Gunhildr.'

"Continue marching," she gave the order to continue the trek to Fort Dover. The Saxons stared at her and nodded with a trace of reverence. Despite her small stature and simple clothing, her earlier show of bringing out her magic armour had firmly impacted all those who saw it. Merlin truly was a master of the magical and illusionary arts, or as Mordred would call him, a perv.

Admittedly, Merlin had a keen sense of fashion, but Mordred had had it with the exposed butt cheeks. Arturia shuddered. Unlike Mordred, at least she could preserve her modesty for only Shirou. She had half a mind to believe that Merlin might have understood that she'd actively try to kill him if he'd force him to wear something like that in public. Honestly, it was amusing to watch Mordred bluster about trying to cover herself up, but it would be another story if Arturia herself was subject to such humiliation. Well…maybe she'd consider wearing such things if it was just her and Shirou, but this was beside the point. She hated the idea of Shirou thinking of her as a loose woman.

Arturia's expression grew frigid at the thought, but she quickly refocused her mind to the matter at hand. Once captured, Fort Dover could be used for its defensive battlements and as a relay point for the Natalie-led Saxon coalition.

From the moment she'd been given command of her own unit, Arturia had taken the initiative. While the other Saxon commanders gathered and sent out messengers to establish a large enough force to oppose Horsa, Arturia had promised to deliver enough arms to supply the army.

Fort Dover's armoury was the most important objective in her plans. Admittedly, she wanted to take it as soon as possible, but impatience would only lead to carelessness.

She felt a hand place itself on her shoulder, and she naturally raised her own hand over it. She was presently riding on a horse with Shirou manning the reigns.

"Don't push yourself, Arturia," Shirou advised in a whisper to keep others from eavesdropping. "If you want things to go faster, just send me ahead. If it's for you, I will clear a path forward."

Arturia hummed at the offer, her fingers interlacing with Shirou's own and soon clasping over his palm to draw comfort from his warmth. Suddenly, it felt like her mind had cleared. Shirou's presence itself seemed to drive away any useless thoughts and urgencies.

This wasn't her first war. What was the point in having experience if she didn't use it?

"No. Don't." Arturia thought better of Shirou's suggestion. It would be quick and she had full trust in Shirou, but this also meant giving away Shirou's presence to the enemy. Trump cards were best saved for last, and perhaps a better method existed?

Arturia thought on a solution while feeling tingles travelling down the back of her neck from how Shirou was brushing his fingers softly over hers…she could get used to this feeling, but in retrospect it was a bit silly to have Shirou around every time she contemplated strategy.

"Shirou," Arturia called out softly. "Can you relay orders to slow down the pace of the march?"

"You want us to slow down?" Shirou blinked. He had a right to be confused. The faster Fort Dover was taken, the less time Horsa had to send reinforcements.

"Yes." Arturia confirmed.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded towards him. "Trust me."

Light shone in Arturia's teal eyes. The way she was looking at Shirou made it evident that she had other plans for him rather than just blindly using him to bulldoze through enemies. She began to think of the future, and no; she wasn't just thinking about pulling Shirou away at the end of the war to conceive her third child.

This time it was her turn to impress him with her wisdom.

Fate-In Time Side Story: Chaldea Alternative Records: Chapter 8

Lancer Arturia had lived a long life. From the start of her childhood, to the ruination of her reign as King Arthur, she'd seen and experienced many things. However, an emotion that compels her to forsake everything else just for the sake of one individual was a new sensation. Just as the iteration of the Arturia she had witnessed, she'd lived what amounted to a second life in her own world. Rather than just a repeat of the events that she'd been familiar with, everything became new upon the addition of a single man.

At first, she was somewhat averse to her Shirou. The notion of mentally being several years older than him had caused her to subconsciously put up a barrier that kept her from growing too attached to anything. What was the point when she knew who was likely to live or to die? In this case, she understood that her entire Kingdom and people had already once perished. What was to stop that from happening again? Of course, she'd do everything in her power to prevent this, but on the off chance that she failed, the mental barrier she'd erected could keep her sanity from breaking. It was the only defence she had, and that endearing fool had slipped right passed it as easily as piercing through wet paper.

She'd tried to keep him at an arm's distance, but his persistence and maturity slowly chipped away at her until she found herself thinking of him at each passing moment. Different from how others treated her, he seemed able to understand her on a fundamental level.

He could tell when she was frustrated, disheartened, or even questioning her own ideals. He always seemed to just look at her and tell if something was wrong. Again, and again, this happened all the way from her childhood to the present time. Sometime she even found herself question if she were the one who was mentally younger than Shirou. She didn't know when she began to realize it, but the distance she'd been trying to keep between them had become infinitesimally small.

It was in the minor things at first such as seeking him out for no reason, or growing irritated whenever Emily sidled up to him. Arturia knew she wasn't being fair to Emily as she'd agreed to support Emily's infatuation with Shirou early on, but everything reached a tipping point on the day Caliburn was drawn.

Lancer Arturia wasn't sure what happened with Saber Arturia on the day she pulled out Caliburn, but Lancer Arturia knew full well what happened to her at Merlin's meddling. In her Merlin's words "Your indecisiveness is annoying."

If Merlin caused Saber Arturia and Shirou to kiss on the day of Caliburn's drawing, Lancer Arturia's Merlin had to take it a step further to convince Lancer Arturia to stop fooling herself.

After Caliburn had been drawn, Merlin had knocked Lancer Arturia and Shirou unconscious with magic before stripping the two, burning their clothes, and then dumping them alone in a vacant brothel. Lancer Arturia had been the first to rouse herself awake, and she was stunned to find herself naked and lying on top of her Shirou. Their bare skin was touching such that if Shirou were awake, he'd be able to feel the way Lancer Arturia was heating up. It went to show the true extent of Lancer Arturia's feelings that her first thought upon waking up wasn't to cover herself, but to make sure that no one else was around to take advantage of her Shirou.

The realization was damning. She couldn't deny her feelings any longer nor keep looking for excuses.

For the first time in her life, she was in love. The barriers she'd placed on herself had shattered, but in exchange she was able to smile an honest smile she no longer thought herself capable of.

Lancer Arturia still vowed vengeance to her Merlin for that day, thought it was more out of embarrassment than real anger. In truth she was actually grateful as it helped sort out her feelings. Trust in Merlin to use the most unconventional of means rather than just doing things normally.

The point of the matter though was that Shirou had won her heart. The ramifications and possibilities of this event were just occurring to her now. How could she possibly be comfortable with Morgan taking Shirou away from her?

She looked down at her hands and noticed that they were trembling. She was nervous? No, she recognized this feeling from her childhood when she was still weak, feeble, and hiding behind Sir Ector's legs seeking assurance: She was scared, terrified even. The barriers she'd put in her current timeline were for her own sanity, and since her Shirou had slipped past them, something inside her would surely break if she lost him.

If this were true for Lancer Arturia, she could only image how it must be for her counterparts. The one thing in common between all of them was that they treasured their Shirous dearly. How could they not when everything Shirou ever did was for their sake since their childhood? To the Alters, this one point about Shirou had earned their affection. No matter what, if it was for their sakes, Shirou wouldn't hesitate.

By the time night rolled in to the dimension housing all the Arturia's, the air had grown somber.

None of the Arturias looked eager to sleep tonight and Lily was the worst. She looked terrible. Her shoulders were slumped, and her hair was a mess from wracking her mind for any kind of viable solution, but constantly failing. Bags had formed under her eyes and her desperation for help was all to obvious. Out of all the Arturias, Lily knew that she was the weakest, only slightly stronger than the Arturia of the main story.

The Alters had sat themselves closer together and each were in their own levels of brooding. For once Lancer Alter was far from composed. Behind her frigid expression, a flicker of anxiety was clear in her eyes. She'd always been decisive, and when she realized she loved her Shirou, she instantly moved to keep him by her side. They were engaged, set to be married by the end off the first campaign against the Saxons. Everything, everything, was hinging on this night for her. A life of contentment, or another life of bitter regrets. The same line of thought was true for Saber Alter.

The Alters knew that they weren't upstanding individuals. They had long since crossed the line separating morality and righteousness for the sake of their countries, and the only one that never shied away from them were their Shirous. He was truly one of a kind, the only of his kind that could ever love a tyrant.

Saber Alter clicked her tongue and balled her hands into fist so tightly that she drew blood. She couldn't lose him. Anyone but him. She had to be strong and repel Morgan using whatever method it takes.

Nearby, Saber Arturia paused and nodded curtly to Lancer Arturia. Neither said anything. In fact, none of the older Arturia said anything, as all of them shared the same goal in this instance.

They would stop at nothing to save their Shirous. Their experience was their weapon, their one defining factor that was different from the main Arturia of the story. However, of the Arturias present, there was one who could not hope to rely on such a means.

Lily was looking pleadingly one by one at all the other Arturias for any kind of suggestion or advice, but none including Lancer Arturia could speak out or meet her gaze. It physically hurt to look at her and know that there was nothing that they could do to help. They couldn't fight her battles, but they also knew that she treasured her Shirou just as much as they treasured theirs.

Lily's eyes were glinting in the light, misty and growing turbulent with unsaid emotions. Each Arturia flinched as Lily desperately walked over to them looking like she was on the verge of crying in her despondence.

None could meet Lily's gaze as none could give her a definite answer to defeat Morgan. Even the Alters who were stewing in their brooding became uncomfortable. Lily's vain attempts to seek aid from her elder counterparts was palpable in her growing anxiety.

"Help, anyone p-please..." Lily was reaching her wit's end, her voice sounding more like a whimper that had the other Arturias reeling. She was practically begging by this point. Lily swallowed audibly and finally let the tears drip freely down her cheeks. She'd not been able to think up of any plan, and that meant it was unlikely that she'd be able to avoid her worst-case scenario by doing anything differently. "I-I can't do this, and I don't want to lose him."

Silence. No words of comfort or reassurance would work here, as all knew that they would be lies. Lily sniffled and did her best to maintain a strong front. She looked at them with a weak smile that wasn't quite a smile. It was the most she could do before reaching a breaking point.

By the time that all the other Arturias managed to fall asleep, only Lancer Arturia saw Lily begin sobbing in despair. Something clutched at her heart, imagining herself in Lily's place. No, she would be in Lily's place if she lost her Shirou.

Sorry for not being of any help.

Lancer Arturia inwardly apologized much like the other Arturias before her eyes finally shut and she drifted to sleep.

-(Chaldea Alternative Records)-

Lancer Arturia opened her eyes to the world of her dreams. As she'd expected, she appeared in the time when she'd just been separated from Shirou and was on her own. If she followed the original script, then she was set to meet Fafnir before Shirou would have his confrontation. If anything, now was her time to prepare.

She considered doing everything similar to how she'd seen things go until the encounter with Morgan, but the risk involved in that venture was too high for her to attempt. No matter her skill, the limitations of her younger body were impossible to overcome. She was weaker, her Magic Core less attuned to her command, and to top it all off, Morgan had the element of surprise.

How was she supposed to defeat Morgan in her current state? She'd watched and seen it fail already. What was she supposed to do? Like Lancer Alter, she was the eldest of the Arturias present in the other dimension. Her life's wisdom was the highest, and she had to use that advantage to her benefit.

In the end though, she was coming up with nothing. It was why she couldn't help Lily in the first place. Just thinking about Lily right now caused a pang of guilt to well up inside her.

Lancer Arturia couldn't just allow herself to give up. Rather than proceed ahead through the tunnel she knew she'd meet Fafnir inside; she stayed rooted in place and began to think. If no solution worked to defeat Morgan, then she had to think outside the box. All possibilities should be considered, and it was precisely because of her age and experience that she soon stumbled upon an epiphany.

It was only tragic that she couldn't share this one idea for Lily's use. If only she'd thought of it sooner, but she'd underestimated her own aversion to even consider such an alternative. In her age, her unbending convictions had mellowed at the fall of Camelot. Morgan wanted Kingship?

Then she could have it.

The cogs of Lancer Arturia's mind began to spin, as her body took motion. From what she could recall, Morgan had made her entrance after dealing with Efret.

Lancer Arturia shut her eyes and began to focus on a source of energy that wasn't Shirou's or Fafnir's fighting in the cavern. Efret's energy signature was large and bright like an open flame. As she'd been acquainted with Efret for years, it didn't take her long to pinpoint its location, and the fact that it was clearly agitated.

Lancer Arturia inferred that Efret and Morgan were in the midst of battle. As much as the urge to help Efret surged from within her, she held herself back and waited. The moment Efret's energy dwindled would be the moment Morgan would make her way to the conclusion of the battle between Shirou and Fafnir. This was Lancer Arturia's chance.

No longer hesitating, she made her way to the cavern where Shirou was fighting Fafnir. Upon seeing her, Lancer Arturia could feel the sheer relief in Shirou's eyes. He'd always cared more about her safety than his, and that fact would hurt her all the more if she lost him. He was as devoted to her then she was to him. If he was willing to risk his life for her, then was willing to cast aside her own ideals and ambitions for him.

You mean more to me than anything else…I understand that now.

Love was truly irrational. Raised since birth to save her country, she didn't hesitate to cast it all aside. Calming the beating of her heart, she readied herself for what was to come. Shirou's fight with Fafnir went exactly as she remembered, but it ended faster this time as she didn't intervene.

By this point, Lancer Arturia was tense, her eyes darting back and forth as Shirou stood motionless in front of her and assimilating the Ashton anchor.

She reacted far before she could be restrained by Morgan's magic. She sidestepped and glared as soon as Morgan came within view, Efret dropped by her feet.

Behind her veil, Morgan was clearly frowning. Her cloaked figure was bathed in a light sheen of magical energy. "You always were a natural, aren't you little sister? To think you'd still be on guard moments after victory, but do you really think-"

"SHUT UP!" Lancer Arturia let go of the control she had over her emotions. Morgan prepared herself for battle in response, but failed to process the fact that Lancer Arturia had just thrown her sword away.

The sound of Caliburn clattering over the ground echoed throughout the cavern as the sisters looked eye to eye for the first time in years. It was surreal. The magic Morgan was channeling was temporally cut off in her confusion.

"I don't care anymore. Just take the throne," Lancer Arturia stated bluntly.

"…What?" Morgan looked genuinely bewildered at the statement, her lips pursing. "Do you think this is some kind of joke or that I'd believe any word you say? Moreover, do you think I need you to give me the throne? Right now, I overpower you."

"Yes, you do," Lancer Arturia said bitterly, her shoulders squaring before slumping. There was still the chance that she could defeat Morgan, but when it concerned Shirou, Lancer Arturia found herself unable to take the risk.

"…" Morgan didn't know how to respond, unable to understand what had brought about such change to Lancer Arturia. On one hand she'd get what she'd always wanted, but on the other, there was no satisfaction in making lancer Arturia feel the same anguish she'd endured as the neglected child of the family. As a result, Morgan didn't answer right away like Lancer Arturia hoped.

"Wasn't this what you wanted from the start?" Lancer Arturia pressed. She was growing nervous, beads of sweat forming over her brow as Morgan remained still. "You can have it, b-but leave Shirou alone," she gave out her one demand.

It was here that things clicked for Morgan and she began chuckling. "So, you knew my objective all along? Yes, today I came not for you, but for him. He will be far more than just a mere nuisance if I let him live."

"But there's no need!" Lancer Arturia argued, her hands growing clammy.

"Would you cry if he was gone?"

Eerie silence.

"…Morgan don't you dare go there." Lancer Arturia didn't know it, but her voice had shifted into a snarl to mask the panic she was feeling, but Morgan could see it plain as day.

Morgan's lips curled upwards, before she took a step towards Shirou.

"Morgan." Lancer Arturia's eyes narrowed fiercely. She put herself between Morgan and her Shirou. She was doing her best to keep her emotions under control, but images of Lily weeping kept coming to her mind which soon overlapped with herself. "I gave you what you want! LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Her throat felt hoarse.

"Or what?" Morgan stopped directly in front of Lancer Arturia. She was within range for Lancer Arturia to grapple her, but it was naïve to think that Morgan would leave herself open.

"I'll sign a geis, alright! You can come up with the terms but leave Shirou alone!" Lancer Arturia conceded the most that she possibly could. From what Merlin had told her, a geis was a curse employed by magi that would force a magus to obey the terms of the curse's contract. The only requirement was consent, and right now Lancer Arturia was willingly consenting to it.

Morgan froze as a smile gradually crept up her mouth. "What if I give the condition that you are never to interact with Shirou again?"

Lancer Arturia's breath hitched in her throat, her eyes dilating as denial set in. No. No you can't do that to me!

Morgan watched the flurry of emotion that crossed over Lancer Arturia's eyes and finally obtained her satisfaction. She began to laugh, evidently elated when Lancer Arturia flinched. "Weell now, I find myself in a great mood, and so I won't be that cruel after you've already promised me the throne. Instead, here is my only condition. Should your Shirou ever show signs of opposing my rule, you will kill him with your own hands."

With a snap of her fingers, Morgan produced a film of magic stating her terms and waiting for Lancer Arturia's consent.

Morgan you! Lancer Arturia could clearly see this condition for what it was. A shackle using her own love to never plot against Morgan. If Shirou caught wind of her motives, he'd surely help her and that would be when the curse would force her to kill the man she loved. Yet did she have a choice in this case?

She looked to Morgan, then to Shirou, and then towards the offered magical contract. Morgan would just kill Shirou right now if she refused. At least this way, she could ask Merlin if there was a means to annul the agreement. To seek victory is to know when to step back.

Lancer Arturia raised her hand and consented to Morgan's terms.

"Good. Very good. I had not expected for this encounter to be so fruitful," Morgan gave Lancer Arturia a single fleeting glance before laughing and vacating the premise. "Till next time, little sister."

Lancer Arturia didn't bother with a response. Instead, after taking care of Efret, all of her attention fell onto Shirou as he collapsed on the ground after safely assimilating the Ashton Anchor. He was unconscious, but unlike the outcome of the main Arturia's storyline, her Shirou was safe.

Slowly, gradually, she moved towards him and reached for him with trembling hands. She cradled him to her lap, her hands wiping away the dirt and grime from his face, and not caring about the predicament she'd placed herself in.

King or not, she did not need the title. She could still protect her people as she was, but nothing was more important than the family she wished to start. Nothing was too big of a sacrifice.

From the bottom of my heart,

She leaned down and kissed Shirou softly on the lips.

I love you.

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Fiction Press: Survivor's Log: Reflections

Book link: Fatedlegacydark. ca

Summary of book:

Death. Grief. Ruin. Nothing was left unchanged after an unexplained tragedy led to the loss of millions across the world in key locations. Cities were reduced to wastelands of steel and concrete, and many were forced into migration. When events leading to the prior tragedy occur once more, Kevin Black was going to have to learn that sometimes mysteries were better left unsolved. Trapped with his friends in the world of a ruined city filled with monsters, the journey out would be far more perilous than the journey in.