Benjen Stark was seated at the welcoming feast for the King and his company at one of the many lesser tables alongside his nephew, Jon Snow. He and the boy were talking about the Night's Watch, with Jon showing interest in someday becoming a Black Brother and Benjen himself trying to talk the boy out of it.

However, both of them kept glancing up at the head table, to where the rest of the Starks and the Royal family were seated. Jon was ever weary of Catelyn and couldn't help but glance nervously at her whenever the two of them were in the same room. Not that Benjen could blame the boy. His brother's wife had never hidden his distaste for the boy's existence. Though Benjen didn't know if that meant that Ned had confided in her and told her the truth about his birth and she feared for what would happen if that truth ever got out, or if his brother had not even trusted her with that knowledge.

Ned had never even told Benjen the truth about his nephew, but the man was perceptive enough to figure it out. The narrative of how after wedding Catelyn he found a beautiful whore while at war who he broke his marriage vows for and loved enough to keep their bastard, simply didn't add up. For one thing, Jon was older than Robb by about two months. Robb had been conceived on Catelyn and Ned's wedding night, so any child made after Ned's wedding, when he went off to war, should have been younger, not to mention the laughable idea of Lord Eddard Stark ignoring his vows.

No, Jon Snow was not the bastard son of Ned. He was Lyanna child. Born to her and that accursed dragon prince who was responsible for everything. Lyanna must have asked Ned to keep him safe with her dying breath. That was just like their sister, always getting her brothers to do impossible tasks for her. Ned placed a stain on his honor by claiming the boy as his bastard and put a further strain on his new marriage in doing so, all for the love that he had held for their sister.

The boy's life was always complicated, and yet Jon Snow knew nothing of it.

Benjen knew these things, yet the reason why he was looking to the main table was different. He was wondering what he would say to the King.

When the Night's Watch heard about King's visit to the North, they had sent Benjen to try and speak with him about strange happenings in the even further North. However what was there to even tell? Strange disappearances could hardly be called strange. The Wildlings acting up was also something that people would call normal. The uncomfortable feeling, like the world itself was watching you? Everything that was wrong could be explained away as paranoia.

Benjen had been with the Black Brothers for a long time, so he could feel that something was up. But they simply lacked any kind of undeniable proof, and while King Robert was a lot of things, superstitious wasn't one of them. He was actually downright skeptical. He would probably just laugh if Benjen said that things beyond the Wall were strange. Even Eddard wouldn't believe him without something more substantial than the whimperings of deserters.

Benjen could request assistance from the King in simply securing the Wall from Wildling raids, but what few untrained men and spare supplies they could get from doing such would not be enough. Winter was coming, and what they would need is an army. He needed a way of convincing the King to support them in venturing beyond the wall and figuring out just what was going on.

"Excuse me." Benjen tore his eyes away from the head table only to see the young Princess Lyanna standing close to their table, dressed in a grassy green dress. "You are one of the Night Watch, are you not? I'm sorry if I am being rude, but we rarely see any down in the capital."

Benjen looked the girl up and down. While it wasn't uncommon for children to try to ask him questions, it was usually young boys, not girls, and especially not noble girls. Beside him, Benjen's nephew froze like a statue, his jaw clenched, and his eyes widened. "Aye, I am Benjen Stark, Captain of the Rangers, at your serves, Lady Lyanna." Benjen said with a bow of the head and feeling only slightly awkward about using his dead sister's name to refer to another. Honestly, what was Robert thinking?

"A Ranger? That means you are among those who venture beyond the Wall, correct?" Lyanna asked the man, an eyebrow raised with interest.

"That is correct." Benjen replied.

"Interesting. Would you mind if I join you? I have some questions I would like to ask about the lands and people beyond the Wall." Lyanna asked the Black Brother, though she was already taking a seat before he had a chance to reply.

"I am not opposed to the company. However, I think you are expected at the head table." Benjen said, flicking his eyes to where the rest of the royals and Starks sat, only to find some of them staring right back.

"You will find that I rarely do what is expected of me." Lyanna said and flashed him the most charming of smiles. "In fact, I'm quite famous for it."

Benjen eye twitched, and he wondered just how much alike her name's sake this Lyanna Baratheon was.

Arya hardly contained a pout when she saw Princess Lyanna sitting down with her brother and uncle. As Lyanna had insisted on first seeing where their Maester kept his books on the Greater Mysteries of the World before changing out of her riding clothes, she had arrived late to the Feast, something that was already consider shocking for a lady of her status, then rather than joining them at the high table, she went and sat down with one of the Black Brother instead.

If Arya had ever done such a thing, Septa Mordane would have likely fainted from the scandal of it.

"Seems my daughter has decided to pester Ben with questions. Can't say I'm surprised. She's been asking questions about the Wall ever since we first decided to head North. She was becoming more and more annoyed that all we could give her was hearsay." King Robert said with a chuckle, taking another gulp of wine. "She's read every book we had on the legends of Bran the Builder."

"Are you not going to call her to join us?" Arya's father replied, his expression still stoic.

King Robert snorted. "Ned, you will learn to just stay out of the way whenever little Lyanna's decided there is something that she wants. I'd sooner go to war with the Dragons all over again than try to stand up to her fury. Just let her do as she pleases. There will be more than enough time for you to meet each other after she's satisfied her curiosities. Besides, I doubt she would like to listen to the two of us prattling on about the good old days. Though maybe your children would enjoy hearing 'bout all the trouble you got into back when we were both hosted together in the Eyrie."

"All the trouble I got into? I think you are starting to misremember things." Eddard Stark said, raising an accusatory eyebrow. King Robert broke out into laughter and a small smile spread across the Lord of Winterfell's face.

It was rare for anyone to see Ned even this obviously in a good mood. Seeing as he was in such a good mood, Arya decided to risk a question. "Father, can I join them too?" Arya asked, not being able to think of any less direct way of saying it. To try to help her chances she tried to sound of innocent and pleading as possible. It was the same tactic that she would often employ on her brothers so that they would let her watch their sword fighting lessons.

She knew that this method of attack was rather ineffective against women, and that she will still probably be scolded later by her mother and the Septa later for her speaking out of turn and general unladylike behavior, but the beauty of this unladylike action, is that she couldn't be called out on it in front of the King without the people calling her out also performing a social faux pas of their own.

The only argument against her going would be to call attention to how protocol stated that she must eat with the family when welcoming guests. And the first rule about protocol is not to talk about protocol. …The second rule has something to do with rat poison… or something… Honestly, Arya didn't pay attention past the first rule. After all, if you know about the first rule then you know that them telling you all the other rules was against the rules and you have to pretend that you won't listening.

The Septa practically glared daggers from where she was standing nearby, having hardly had the time to scold Arya for running off that morning, but her hands were tied. Even before Ned Stark had a chance to respond, the King laughed about how 'spirited' Arya was and told her to scamper on. Even with the King's permission, Arya glanced to her father, waiting for the man to nod his approval before getting up and made a sloppy attempt at a curtsy before moving down towards the table where her brother, her uncle and her idol were sitting.

Jon Snow was… very confused.

He had been surprised when Princess broke etiquette in order to sit down with him and uncle Ben, and he only become more surprised from there. To be honest, she didn't act like a noble young princess at all.

The way she held herself showed complete confidence without having her seem like she was trying to imitate a statue, like other noble ladies. She was relaxed, lively, and very forward. It was as if he was speaking to a much more graceful version of Arya… or rather just listening too. Jon had yet to find where he had misplaced his tongue.

Shortly after sitting down, she started to ask Benjen questions about the Wildlings.

Uncle Ben had started with the usual talk about how the Night Watch guarded against the Wildling raids and how the Wildlings were a constant danger that needed to be watched. After which Princess Lyanna Baratheon asked him to kindly stop feeding her horse shit at get to the actual information about the Wildlings.

That was when her questions became more… focused.

She asked him about how the Wildlings interacted between each other.

She asked how they acted out their raids and what their priorities were; whether they focused on killing or simply getting the supplies and legging it.

She asked how they handled a defeated tribe and what happened to women and children.

She asked about what their diets were like, and about migration patterns of the groups.

She asked about leadership and organization of groups.

She asked about the general attitude that the Wildling's had for their situation beyond the Wall.

She asked how many of the tribes kept written records and how many of them had learned the common tongue.

Then came Benjen's answers, and Jon found himself once again shocked as the responses the Princess received painted a much different picture of the Wildlings than he was used to hearing. Less mindless and barely human savages and closer to desperate thieves and bandits, with a sort of twisted code of honor of their very own. He had never even heard the term 'Free Folk' before, which was apparently what they called themselves. Actually the more he heard about them, the more they sounded like the Iron Born.

While Jon still hated the pirates, especially Theon, he wasn't about the say that they were evil. Not inherently anyways. Hard places made hard men. Though while the Iron Born could have technically just gotten on their boats and found a land actually capable of supporting life and never having to raid people ever again, they actively choose to stick to their barren soil. The Wildlings didn't even have that chance. The Wall stood between them and any land that could feasibly be farmed.

Jon nearly jumped when a finger was pressed into his side and his precious little sister not so kindly requested that he move over. Jon did as he was told, shifting over so that Arya could squeeze herself onto the bench between himself and their uncle, directly across from the Princess.

Arya had nearly choked on her own tongue as she greeted the Princess and had blushed with Lyanna replied with familiar words and a kind smile, insisting that Arya didn't need to stand on ceremony would her. Arya then listened quietly as Benjen continued to answer questions.

"I see. Most of it is as I expected, but it's nice to have my theories confirmed by witness accounts." Lyanna said with a sigh. She had shown herself to be mildly disappointed when Benjen explained that while some did know how to write the old runes, that most of their writings were used for messages and more modern treaties of sorts. They did not have very old writes as if it did serve an immediate purpose and help them survive, they didn't tend to lug it around, and the work required to copy over aging carvings was more effort than it was worth.

Most of the culture was kept alive through storytelling, though considering the Wildlings claimed to have long memories, and the history they could remember was surprisingly accurate, Benjen suspected that they actually did have some records of the past hidden somewhere, likely carved into the walls of caves.

"Tell me, what's with the interest?" Benjen finally asked after it seemed like the girl was done with her questions. "Its rare to find anyone who thinks of the Free Folk as being anything but Wildlings."

"Let's just call it curiosity." Lyanna said, turning her attention towards her drink. "I suppose I was just wondering what the chances of pacifying them were like."

"Impossible." Benjen said with a shake of his head. "They would never agree to work together with the Seven Kingdoms. They have nothing but contempt for kneelers."

"While that is true, I doubt they even understand why." Lyanna said in a rather smug tone of voice. "'Khol' the Old Tongue's word for kneel had two meanings. The first being the to kneel before a ruler, while the second is to kneel down to sow the soil. A more correct translation for 'Uk domu khol' would be 'we do not sow', not 'we do not kneel'."

There was the sound of spluttering as Theon Greyjoy heard this and nearly choked on his food. The familiar Iron Born motto being applied to the Wildlings had shocked him more than just a little.

"The Wildlings first refused to become part of the old Kingdoms because they didn't wish to take part in farming, as they viewed clearing the forests for farmland to be blasphemy against the Old Gods. They were in fact on both sides of the Wall until they simply died off on this side due to their descendants choosing to give up the wanderer lifestyle." Lyanna explained a confident smile on her face as she slowly nodded along with her own lecture. Arya was eating it up, listening to every word that the older girl said. "They have shown in the past that they are more than willing to kneel if it is for their own survival. Their have after all been Kings Beyond the Wall, and their little tribes have their own form of leadership. If legends are correct, then the very first King Beyond the Wall even fought alongside the Stark King against a common threat. The only reason they are so 'wild' is because no one has even tried to placate them. Not in over eight thousand years. Two thousand years before the Andal ever even reached the shores of Westeros: the people who they supposedly refused to 'kneel' to."

Benjen clicked his tongue and looked thoughtful. "Even in the Night Watch, hardly anyone can speak the Old Tongue. I'm surprised you know it well enough to stop that double meaning. And you are right, that there hasn't been any real communication between the those north and south of the Wall in over eight thousand years." Benjen complemented. "I still doubt that they can be reasoned with. They are too set in their ways."

"Do you know what the funny thing is about people who are set in their ways? Sooner or later they just grow old and die and if their children don't feel like keeping it up, then it dies with them. No tradition is ever more than two or three generations from disappearing." Lyanna said with a dismissive shrug. "Do you know what the most important part of controlling a land post-conquest is? Besides dividing up the territories so that they don't cooperate against you."

Benjen frowned. "Can't say I know anything about conquering places."

"It's simply really. Breeding." Lyanna said with a slight smile at the confused looks she got. "Whether it was the First Men and the Children of the Forest, or the Andals and the First Men, or any conquest in human history across the map, after the war, the mixing of races helps to alleviate the tensions between the groups. As the line between conquered and conquerors blurs, it stops seeming like it matters so much anymore. Children of mixed bloods act as a bridge between the groups and people start to just accept the differences aren't really all that big. The problem with the Wildlings, is that they have been left alone for eight thousand years. There is not a single drop of Andal blood north of the Wall, and they don't recognize anyone but themselves as being descended from the First Men. No mixed children to bring things to the negotiations table. They know just as little about us as we know about them."

Benjen screwed up his face, probably thinking hard about what the girl had just said. Jon had to admit it made some sense, though it was hard to think that if a people didn't change in over eight thousand years that they would ever change.

"You're suggesting that they Night Watch start taking Wildling wives and orphans, aren't you?" Benjen said. "When all the men of a tribe a wiped out, the women and children tend to accept whoever killed them as being their new tribe. You think that the Night Watch could to this rather than leaving them to starve, and then by doing so create a bridge between the people."

"Yes, that's right." Lyanna admitted. "What do you think?"

"No." Benjen said flatly. "Forgive me milady, but there is a good reason why the Night Watch are not allowed to take wives, and it isn't for honors sake."

"You are talking about the legend of the Night's King, correct, in which a Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was seduced by a White Walking and ended up becoming one himself, in the days shortly after the Long Night." Lyanna said thoughtfully. "Surely that isn't a problem now. It has been thousand of years since the last time anyone has even claimed to having spotted any White Walkers. …Or do you think that they still exist?"

Benjen opened his mouth, closed it, looked over at Arya and Jon before mumbling. "Better safe than sorry. Some stories are more than stories."

Lyanna didn't say anything for a few moments as she looked over the Ranger's face. Then, seeming to decide that this was the most she would get out of him, she shrugged. "So, what can you tell me about Winterfell?"

As Arya enthusiastically started to do her best to answer any sort of question that the Princess had about their home, Jon was more distracted by their uncle.

He started to wonder what the real reason why his uncle was so adamantly against him joining the Night Watch and just what the Night Watch was anyways.

Suddenly he wasn't so sure he really wanted to join. Perhaps he should think it over a little more.

"You're retreat has been cut off and your light cavalry has been destroyed. In areas with limited visibility, don't over commit to the charge." Valorys said as he moved around the pieces on the map as yet enough simulated war strategy was going very poorly for Daenerys. Last time she had hesitated too much as the enemy had managed to regroup and counter attack. The Red Priest started to reset the pieces into their starting positions on the map. "Again."

The exiled Princess had to do her best to stop herself from crying. She was so tired.

They had been out at sea for more than a month, heading towards what the faithful of R'hllor insisted was a mission from their god to liberate a city that was being subjugated by an evil cult. It seemed as though shortly after the comet appeared in the sky, several Red Priestesses had visions of a city being consumed by darkness and people with blue lips and had taken this to mean that they were supposed to go and do something about the Warlocks that lived in the city of Qarth.

It was Valorys who suggested that it would be good experience for the soon to be 'King' to learn how to gather and organize the troops, give orders during battle, and see to the recovery of the city after the Warlocks were taken care of.

Valorys seemed to be under the impression that a King did absolutely everything. Daenerys was made to order the organization for goods and services required to get an army half way across the map. Everything from food to transportation was left up to her, with Valorys only offering some small advice. Instead she had to figure everything out herself.

She had hardly been allowed to sleep during the five days that they had spent gathering supplies and troops, making deals with the merchant's guild for the use of their larger ships, as well as several other deals with several other city officials, and creating a play for budgeting everything. It seemed like she couldn't go five minutes without someone wanting her to consider something and her head buzzed from the strain of reading so much Low Valyrian.

She never thought she would end up missing those five days, because after they had actually gotten on the boats, her training for when she would be King began.

On top of lessons on history, logistics, etiquette and warfare, Daenerys was also made to practice swordplay, archery, and assist the sailors with running the ship. She was being treated more like a squire rather than a Princess.

Valorys said that if she expected to be able to lead people, she must understand them. A king who doesn't understand their people cannot lead them. She would complain that no one could be expected to do everything that she was being made to do but considering that Valorys did everything that she did and more, it didn't seem like a valid argument.

The Princess was started to think that the boy Priest was absolutely insane. Also skilled, knowledgeable, wise and powerful, but completely insane. This was evidenced by the way he acted towards his dragon.

While people might have snickered at Daenerys for calling Rhaegal and Viserion her children and her trying to breast feed them at one point, but even that seemed normal compared to how Valorys acted towards Saber.

While Daenerys had followed Varus's advice and began to feed her children slightly burnt meat, Valorys only fed Saber the kinds of meals that one would present to a King, and even then, only on special occasions. Things like grilled shark fins with roasted nuts, ginger, and a sort of sauce of some kind which Daenerys didn't know the name of. It was no wonder that Saber ate three times as much as her siblings, the way Valorys spoiled her. Daenerys wondered where the little dragon put it all and was worried about how they would be able to feed it once it had time to grow. At least, she was, until she noticed Valorys jumping off the side of the boat with a harpoon only to return a few moments later with a few large fish. Apparently, this was where the shark came from too.

Valorys insisted that Saber was a girl, even though dragons didn't really have genders. He also spoke to it in a language that no one else understood, claiming that it was an old language that was lost to the world. When he was doing so, there was such an unmistakable happiness in his voice that you didn't need to understand what he was saying to know that he was strongly emotionally attached to the blue and gold dragon. She had also seen him one night reading the dragon a book. He had claimed to be trying to teach her how to read.

Daenerys could understand to an extent, since she could feel her own bond with Rhaegal and Veserion. It was just that Valorys had been the one most uncomfortable about the subject of dragons before, saying that dragons were extremely dangerous beings and that if it wasn't for his god's orders, he would have smashed the eggs. Then Saber hatched, and he's attitude suddenly flipped entirely and he sleeps with her in his bed.

How was it that he was even able to hatch the dragon's egg anyways? It was supposed to require Targaryen blood in order to wake a dragon's egg, but Saber hatched for him.

At first, Daenerys thought that he might actually have been descended from the Valyrian royalty himself, but she was told about his bastard origins and that there wasn't a single drop of noble blood in his veins. So why was he able to wake a dragon?

The only explanation that she could think of was that he was the chosen of R'hllor. That the God of Fire was able to convince the incarnations of fire to bond to the boy. Maybe he and the Targaryens had more in common than she thought. Wasn't it said that the very first dragon riders had been nothing more than shepherds?

Fire is my blood. That was what he had said. It was so close to her own family's motto, fire and blood.

When he had first said those words, her skin had crawled… not in a bad way though. It was a difficult to describe feeling. The feeling of an impossible flame pushing away all the cold that was held by the world.

The men from the Age of Legends really were something else.

"Dany, hesitation is the enemy. If you take too long to decide your moves it might be too late to act at all." Valorys said, misinterpreting the girl's dazed state for her spending far too long to decide on a her strategy.

"I… ah…" Daenerys spluttered as she looked down at the map. She was so tired that the colors and shapes of the pieces all kind of blurred together. Something that Valorys noticed as the girl started to shift around her pieces only to accidently move two of the enemy's units.

"…We will continue this tomorrow. Take a short rest. I'll be waking you before the sunsets for your diplomacy lessons." Valorys said with a small sigh, beginning to put away the map and pieces.

"A short rest?" Daenerys said, not being able to help herself any longer and giving a small whine. She knew that a Princess shouldn't act as such, but she felt like she was on the verge of collapse. "Can we not call it a day early? Just this once?"

"Whether it is in times of war or peace, a King never knows when they will be called on to perform their duties. Rest when you can, and be glad for however much you can get, but know that it is never guaranteed." Valorys said.

"You are going to work me to death." Daenerys complained.

"No. I will make sure to only work you half to death." Valorys said with a small smile. "Any Lord in the Seven Kingdoms goes through a similar training. Only theirs is stretched out over fifteen years. You have one month to learn the same and more. Did you think it would be easy?"

Daenerys didn't say anything. She knew Valorys would be displeased if he heard her say that it should be easy, because she was simply born to be King… Queen… whatever. The first time she had said that, he had responded by apologizing for underestimating her and said that they would skip the basics since she was such a natural talent. That was when he blindfolded her and the only information she could get about the position of the pieces had to come from what other people told her of them.

Any time she acted arrogant, he would treat her like a wise, old Maester would treat a stubborn child who thought that they knew everything, by showing them just how little they really did know. Daenerys decided to just shut up after that and keep her grumbling in her head.

"Every moment you spend standing here pouting is a moment of rest wasted. Unless you don't actually need that nap." Valorys teased her. Daenerys didn't even say goodbye. She just turned on her heels and started towards her quarters, fearful of losing what little chance of rest she was being given. Maria, who acted as a mixture of bodyguard, attendant, and sparing partner for the Princess, followed her out.

'She isn't ready.' Saber said, in her matter of fact way as Daenerys left the room. 'She knows how to read and her numbers, but she knows nothing about leadership, and people honestly expect her to lead them?'

"I know. She was raised only with the intention of being married off. No one bothered to teach her how to be a ruler, and from the sounds of it, they didn't teach her brother it either." Shirou said with a sigh. "However, it isn't impossible to cram an entire lifetime's worth of training into a few weeks. I did it."

'Your case was different. You understood just how difficult your goal would be to achieve. This child sees becoming King as her destiny.' Saber said with clear disapproval, her tail flicking against the ground in aggravation. Saber hadn't exactly just pulled the sword for the stone and become King without any prior knowledge or skills. She had spent her younger years learning everything she could about leadership and chivalry as a Squire before she ever took up the holy sword. She had put blood, sweat and tears into becoming a Knight worthy of the kingdom. To hear someone say that they should be king because it was their birth right, regardless of qualifications, training or temperament, reminded her Mordred. While she didn't hate her 'son', feeling as though some of the blame for how things turned out lay on her shoulders, she still would stand by her decision in saying that Mordred was not fit to be king.

"She's older than you were when you became King." Shirou reminded Saber. "Though you're right, she has listened to too much talk about destiny and birthright. She doesn't even seem to see the fact that all of the things that she is learning being hard for her as being a problem, since fate will work things out for her as long as she pushes forward."

'And perhaps because she has the great Azor Ahai reborn to fight for her.' Saber jabbed. 'When one has dragons and a man from the Age of Legends on their side, how can they be anything but victorious.'

"Such a mindset won't help us at all when the Others come." Shirou pointed out. "No matter how powerful dragons are, or how strong I am, in order to defend against an army, you need an army. Otherwise they will just go around us." Shirou sighed. "Mankind's most dangerous enemy is coming, and the person supposedly chosen by god to lead us through the disaster isn't taking it seriously enough."

'At least she isn't in a blind panic.' Saber commented.

"True." Shirou nodded in agreement. Daenerys did take the news that the world was possibly coming to an end, and it was up to her to help save it, rather too well if you asked them.

'…We'd forgive you, you know.' Saber said suddenly.

"Huh?" Shirou said in confusion, looking over to where the little dragon rested. Saber turned her face away, as if embarrassed.

'Sakura, Rin and I… we'd forgive you if you had to marry Daenerys in order to gain leadership over the Seven Kingdoms so that you can save this world.' Saber mumbled though their mental link.

Shirou gave a sad smile as he went over to Saber and started to pat her head. "I know. But I would rather not end up in a relationship with anyone I couldn't be honest with, and I would never be with anyone I didn't love." Shirou told her. Saber trembled a bit at his words and Shirou could now feel her embarrassment.

"W… well… You should still keep the option open! In times of war, sometimes political marriages are the best way to avoid unnecessary conflict and… and…!" Saber's mental voice stopped as her mind seemed to go blank, and small jets of steam came from her nostrils.

Shirou couldn't help but chuckle at Saber's reaction. "I suppose while I have this break, I should continue on my research." Shirou said, getting up and stretching a bit.

'Perhaps you should get some rest as well while you can.' Saber adviced him, after she regained her composure.

"I doubt my schedule with ever clear up. I need to further my research whenever I can." Shirou told her as he went to grab a large pile of notes he kept in his quarters. Page after page of small script all dedicated to trying to reverse engineer a very particular mystery from a very particular Noble Phantasm; Andvari's Ring.

While the legends talk about the ring that turned Fafnir into a dragon, it was actually the entire pile of gold that was cursed, all of it working together to form the final result of turning the common dwarf into a massive fire breathing behemoth, as well as causing the deaths of many a hero even after the dragon was dealt with. And like with many other mounds of treasure, some of the pieces were weapons.

A sword, one carrying Andvari's curse, was stored within Shirou's Unlimited Blade Works. And if there existed a way to turn a dwarf into a dragon, then there might be a way of using a similar mystery to turn a dragon into a woman.

While Saber didn't seem to consider herself too terribly inconvenienced by her current body at the moment, Shirou wanted to find a way to return her to her human form.

'Alright, but don't work yourself to death on my behalf.' Saber told him.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure to stop when I'm only half dead."