And Cast the Shadow of a Snakepit on the Wall

[crimson_war_demon]

Kirigakure Saizo's master wishes to believe the best of everyone. It's a commendable trait, to be sure, if not one that Saizo himself shares. If he has misgivings about this war, he has chosen not to share them; if he has misgivings about those who he has been called to serve, even less so. And though Saizo expects no less, Saizo cannot accept this war or its circumstances with the same ease. Besides, there is a pall over this house, a current of power seething under the surface that makes Saizo's skin crawl. Sasuke, too, has felt it. Even his master must have. And if his master will shut his eyes so stubbornly, it's Saizo's duty to tell him what he does not, or will not, see -- for the sake of them all.

The house is quiet, cast in gloom and shadow, and it is no trouble at all for Saizo to melt into those shadows and make his way to the place that even dust seems to shy from. The door to the basement is not locked. There's no need for it to be; the chill emanating from it, the soft scratching -- or is it chittering? -- from behind, is more effective than any lock. Slowly, Saizo turns the doorknob. To reduce the sound it makes, he tells himself, but that doesn't entirely explain the tension in his fingers, the heaviness in his bones.

The stairs behind the door are silhouetted in a faint green light. Saizo descends.

Saizo is no stranger to creatures that thrive in the darkness and feast on fear. He could be called one himself.

But the things that writhe before him, carpet the floor in a hissing mass -- what can he possibly call them? His breath stalls in his throat, blocks the words from coming out even if he could find them.

He must not let these creatures transfix him. He must leave, and report to his master at once. This must not be hidden.

***

"Master," Saizo says, kneeling before him, and Lancer can't miss how his hands tremble on his knees. To see such a thing in Saizo -- a knot forms in the pit of his stomach.

"What is your report?" he asks, because he must.

Saizo opens his mouth as though to answer, then closes it, shakes his head. "Come with me," he says. "Please."

The way he says that last word disquiets Lancer most of all.

Silently, Saizo leads him down the hall, stops in front of the door to the basement. "Look," he says, "and forgive me for what I have shown you."

"I do not think I am meant to enter -- "

"Master, I fear more for what will happen if you do not."

As Lancer nudges the door open, stories he heard as a boy spring to mind: of women wed to wealthy and mysterious daimyo, and given free reign of their husband's castles save for one room, which must never be entered. Of course, none of them could resist such temptation. And what they found --

-- oh.

If Saizo is still present behind him, Lancer does not notice. If anyone else is present behind him, Lancer does not notice. Lancer wishes, desperately, that he could see nothing at all.

Your Ladyship rises in his throat, and dies just as rapidly. Even his pulse is faint, his blood sluggish. Someone -- Saizo -- is tugging on his arm, pulling him out, closing the door. That matters little; the sight is engraved on Lancer's eyes, as sure as the ruins of Sekigahara and the mud of Tennou-ji. But even those were products of human grievances, human wars. This...

Lancer sinks against the door, stares at his hands, and does his best not to shake.

Comments

[crimson_war_demon]

"Your Ladyship," he begins, but words are not sufficient for this.

"I am once again impertinent," he says, and before anything else can be spoken, closes the distance between them and wraps his arms around her, holds her close.

[worms_armageddon]

It startles her enough, for a moment, that she nearly stops crying -- she hasn't been held since she was a child, since before she was taken to the basement and left in the dark, and surely at any moment Lancer will feel the worms crawling beneath her skin and draw away, disgusted, as he ought to be and as she deserves. It won't last, she tells herself, it won't last, but it does, and after only a matter of moments her resolve gives out; she clutches him close, buries her face against his chest and cries as though the world has ended around her.

[crimson_war_demon]

He embraces her just as tightly, one hand resting just below her shoulderblades and the other near the nape of her neck. "To have borne this for so long," he murmurs; the Grail War is all but gone from his mind, and even his memories of the past seem distant. There is only him, and her Ladyship, and whatever they may show towards one another. "Truly, you are one of the bravest people I have known."

[worms_armageddon]

"I thought you'd hate me," she says, her voice muffled by her sobs and by Lancer's chest. "I'm not brave. I just -- I just wanted you to keep being kind to me--"

[crimson_war_demon]

"Your Ladyship, I could never hate you. You are my Master -- no," he corrects himself, and brushes the ends of her hair with his fingertips. "There's more to it than that. You have never broken faith with me, and you have stayed by my side, and you seem to learn more each day -- what is there to hate in that?"

[worms_armageddon]

"The--" She swallows hard, trying to compose herself again with sharply limited success. "The worms."

[crimson_war_demon]

"Your Ladyship, I beg you, do not blame yourself for that! I -- " He swallows, his throat tightening; she may be close enough to feel how it shudders. "I cannot imagine what unkindnesses you have endured. I wish -- I wish I could have protected you then..."

[worms_armageddon]

"It -- it was for the good of the family." She clings to him a little more tightly. "I didn't... I didn't like it, but I understood, and maybe it hurt sometimes but it was all right until--" A shuddering breath. "You were so kind to me. It made me want -- it made me wish none of it had happened."

[crimson_war_demon]

"There is no shame in that." He hesitates, and with that hesitation comes awareness of the cadence of her breath and his, how they are beginning to align. "I understand the duty owed to family. I myself -- I was never called on to endure what you have, or anything like it, but I have made sacrifices of my own. Nevertheless, I can think of nothing crueler, nothing more against the principles, than repaying such duty with treatment so callous, so..." He trails off. Even monstrous does not convey it adequately.

"Whatever your wish may be," Lancer says, "I will fight for it until I can no longer draw breath. On everything I am, I swear this to you, your Ladyship. To you, Matou Kaede."

[worms_armageddon]

She blushes, even through her tears, at hearing her name in his voice -- she had imagined it before now, but she could never have anticipated the warmth it would spark in her chest, the way it would quicken the pace of her heart. "I -- I don't have any wish except what Grandfather wants," she admits -- but she falters there. "Perhaps... I could think of one."

[crimson_war_demon]

Grandfather. The man who dared do this to her -- something sharp and hot flares at the back of his mind, and the rush of heat that follows is nothing like what he feels during battle. There is honor in battle; there is none in that man.

But her Ladyship -- Kaede -- has more need of him here now, and he'll not leave her at a time like this, neither in body nor in thought. "My oath will not change," he tells her, "no matter how long you must think on your wish."

...perhaps, too, he is starting to discover one of his own.

[worms_armageddon]

She is beginning to calm, now; she is beginning to believe that he won't leave her the moment she lets go. She lets herself breathe for a moment, lets herself loosen her grip on him enough that she can settle herself more comfortably against him -- it takes her only a moment to recognise that they are breathing together, or very nearly. "I'm -- I'm glad we summoned you," she admits, voice soft and shy.

[crimson_war_demon]

"As am I," he says; though he still holds her close, his grip eases when hers does. "Whatever else this war may bring -- I am glad it has brought me to you."

[worms_armageddon]

She hides the tiniest of smiles against his chest; she still feels hollowed-out, fragile, but she can draw at least a little strength from being this near to him. "I'm sorry I cried on you."

[crimson_war_demon]

"Ah -- no, there is no need for such an apology!" Upon noting her smile, he offers one of his own, and hopes she will see it. "I do not mind."

[worms_armageddon]

She ought to let him go. She's stopped crying; she has no excuse to keep hugging him now. "Thank you," she says, and hesitantly -- because she can't in good conscience not ask -- she adds, "Is this... do you want me to let go?"

[crimson_war_demon]

He has been impertinent enough with her today; he should not continue to be so, and yet -- "No, your Ladyship -- Kaede. I -- am content like this, if you are as well."

[worms_armageddon]

"I'm--" She decides a second too late that there is no point at all in trying to say too much. "Yes," she says instead, and resettles her head against his chest.

[crimson_war_demon]

They are still breathing together, he notices. Her pulse seems to be less frantic now, her heart fluttering less rapidly against his chest. He seems to be calming similarly, and his sense of time drifts away, as though it has no bearing on the present moment at all.

"I could never hate you," he murmurs to her again. "Never."

[worms_armageddon]

She lifts her head just enough that she can look him in the eye -- her face is tear-streaked and flushed, her expression uncertain. "I -- I don't know what I would have done if you had. I don't think I could bear it."

[crimson_war_demon]

His throat catches, and it is just as well, for there are no words for what he sees when he looks at her. "Nor could I," he says; his voice shows the faintest sign of trembling. "I could not bear to leave you so."

[worms_armageddon]

She shouldn't do it. She's almost certainly misjudging him -- it will be a terrible idea, and he will be kind enough in telling her no that she will never be able to look at him again -- but she can hear the faintest tremor in his voice, and with the way he's looking at her, she could almost believe...

She leans up, and presses a quick, light kiss to the corner of his mouth.

[crimson_war_demon]

The first thought he can manage is oh.

The second is that her lips are soft against his, and warm, and that same warmth is seeping into him, spreading into his chest. He returns the kiss, threads his fingers in her hair and cradles the back of her head. If this is not his place, if this is a privilege beyond what he is entitled to, he ignores it; he will savor this, and treasure it, for as long as she wishes it to last.

And the word he could not conjure moments before comes to him now: beautiful.

[worms_armageddon]

She scarcely knows what she's doing, now that she's begun it -- kisses were always something from stories, until now, never something she has learned or been taught -- but perhaps it's enough to let him hold her, comb his fingers through her hair and keep her close. Perhaps it's enough to part her lips, just a little, and reach up to touch her hand to his cheek. She can't quite believe that he hasn't pulled away yet, that she's been allowed to come this far.

When she withdraws, heart racing once again, she stares up at him with an apology on the tip of her tongue, waiting for whatever his response might be.

[crimson_war_demon]

He is smiling, once he has enough presence of mind to do so, once the sensation of the kiss has faded. "Kaede," he says. "Forgive me for not noticing this, as well. To overlook something like this within myself, or to hide it even from my own view -- I have been inattentive."