[FF] Divine Justice (Fate/Stay Night/Thor crossover)

[Kieran]

Written for my "From the Heavens . . ." challenge.

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Thor, Mjolnir, Asgard, and other such characters and concepts (at least the versions I’m using) are the creations of Stan Lee and Jack Kirby, and owned by Marvel Comics/Disney. The movie script was the creation of J. Michael Straczynski, not me - and Sif was portrayed by Jaime Alexander, so she’s definitely not mine.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.




Writer’s Note: Certain dialogue sequences are lifted from the Thor movie, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of said movie) to allow them to recognise the sequences when they see them.








Asgard








Her name was Sif. A tall, striking brunette, lithe and lethal, she was the premier female warrior of Asgard, save for perhaps the Queen herself. And even regardless of her gender, she was counted among the greatest of Asgard’s warriors, a fact that she had gone to great pains to prove. Few could match her prowess with a spear, a fewer still would wish to try. Renowned for both her skills and her beauty, Sif had many admirers among her people - yet her heart would belong to one alone, if he could only live up to the glimmers of potential she saw beneath his rash, arrogant manner.

Sadly, the crown prince of Asgard had yet to mature into the king she believed that he was capable of being, as today’s events had thoroughly proved. Their unapproved journey to Jotunheim had nearly cost all of them their lives, and still might, should it truly come to war between the Asgardians and the Frost Giants. And all because Thor had been unable to resist a single, deliberate taunt. It frustrated Sif to no end. Thor was not a bad person, precisely, but he was very proud, and quick to anger. And his temper, once roused, was a fierce and terrible thing - it roared like the storm winds generated by his hammer, Mjolnir, lashing all around him. And even when he was calm, Thor did not always consider the consequences of his actions.

Consequences that the All-Father was now bestowing upon his impetuous son.

“You are unworthy of your title,” Odin pronounced, tearing Thor’s weapon and armour from his body, “you are unworthy of your power - YOU ARE UNWORTHY!” In a softer voice, the king finished, “. . . Of the loved ones that you have betrayed.” He took a deep breath, but his voice did not yield as he pronounced his judgement. “You are hereby banished from Asgard.”

“No!” Sif cried. Or at least, she wanted to, but she did not dare to go against the All-Father’s commands. She was a loyal warrior of Asgard, obedient to her king - and more than that, Odin’s manner indicated that his will would not be trifled with, not now, at least. If she spoke now, then at best, she would share Thor’s banishment. It would not convince the All-Father to lift his decree - and Asgard would be bereft of two of its most powerful and skilled defenders, when the realm stood on the brink of war. Far better to wait, and approach the All-Father on Thor’s behalf, once his temper had cooled . . .

Or, when the situation appeared dire enough that only the might of Thor could possibly turn the tide of the war in their favour again.

It was harsh, perhaps, but her honour as a warrior of Asgard insisted that she place her first loyalty to the good of the realm, even above the desires of her heart. Even Thor would agree with her reasoning, once he’d thought it through. While he could be very foolish, the prince was not an idiot, and he sought to act in the best interests of Asgard, as well.

. . . Still, she could not suppress a pang - like a sword through her heart - as her love was hurled through the Bifrost like the most repulsive of refuse. With a silent sigh, the warrior maiden felt a measure of guilty relief as the terrible scene reached its end . . . Or so it seemed, until Mjolnir, still clenched in her liege’s hand, was raised to his lips.

“Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor,” intoned Odin All-Father, King of Asgard - and the runes binding his curse to the hammer appeared briefly on the surface of its head.

Sif’s eyes widened. Why would the All-Father choose to pronounce such a thing, unless . . .

Of course - it’s a test!

Excitement ignited in her veins as she reached the only conclusion that seemed sensible: that the exile was meant to be impermanent, only long enough to teach Thor a lesson - and his ability to grasp Mjolnir would mark the lifting of his banishment!

Hope flared alight within Sif’s breast as, with a mighty heave, the ancient warrior king hurled the hammer into the Bifrost, allowing the bridge between the Nine Realms to carry it to the destiny that awaited it . . .








Fuyuki, Japan (Midgard)








Emiya Shirou ran. He didn’t know precisely what he’d seen, or what exactly was going on, but the expression on the blue-haired man’s face when he’d been spotted had told him pretty plainly that it wasn’t something anyone was meant to see. And while he might not be much of a magus, Shirou was still enough of one that he knew something about things that weren’t meant to be seen. Enough about them to have a pretty good idea of what the consequences his unintended spying were probably going to end up being, anyway.

And so, he ran. He ran for his life.

Unfortunately, while Shirou was certainly athletic for his age, he was only human. Eventually, his lungs were filled with more fire than air, and his legs lost all sense of solidity. Try as he might, the youth just couldn’t bring himself to run - or even walk - so much as one more step.

But that’s . . . That’s OK . . . Shirou thought, so weary that even his mind sounded like it was wheezing, it was so hard to put his thoughts together.

I can be this tired . . . As long . . . As it means . . . That I lost him -

“You ran pretty far, kid.”

The tone of the blue-haired spear-carrier’s voice was both admiring and condescending at the same time, and as he continued, the second part came through more and more strongly.

“Of course, you knew I’d find you, didn’t you?” he asked rhetorically. “And you know what happens next. There’s no need to be ashamed - all weaklings fear death.”

Exhausted as he was, Shirou doubted that he could fight so much as a kitten right now - but he’d be damned if he’d give this smug bastard the satisfaction of going down without trying! He struggled to move his aching body into a ready stance, feeling pitifully slow . . .

“It’s nothing personal,” the blue-haired man assured him, “but now that you’ve seen me, I can’t let you live, “ The spear in his hands began to glow with a crimson, malevolent light as he raised it into a striking position. “Sorry, kid.”

For an instant, Shirou’s vision was filled with red - and then, suddenly, it was white. A deep, rolling thunder echoed in his ears, battering against his chest as he fell down into the darkness . . .








Earthquake, was Rin’s first thought - a lifetime of living in Japan had conditioned her to treat anything like the terrible tremors rocking the ground beneath her as such. Eventually, her mind caught up to her instincts, and she amended the cause to explosion - or an impact big enough that it might as well have been. Certainly, the amount of rubble that now blocked her path in the hallway testified to that fact - it looked as though she’d come within a hair’s-breadth of having most of the upper floor and roof land right on top of her!

She sighed. “. . . Archer. Is there any point at all to continuing the pursuit, do you think?”

“I doubt it,” Archer said grimly. “The witness - whoever he was - can’t possibly have survived that. And Lancer could easily escape under the cover of a blast like that. Though I might still be able to spot him if we hurry outside . . .” he offered tentatively.

Rin considered, then shook her head. “No, not with as little information as we have right now. I’ll want to figure out what specific spear-wielder could possibly unleash an explosion like that - if that’s the effect of his weapon, then he’s obviously a lot more dangerous than he seemed to be. I want to be better prepared for the fight between us before it comes.”

“As you wish, Master,” Archer replied.

Inwardly, the Servant was both ecstatic and confused. Ecstatic, because Emiya Shirou - the witness Rin had not identified, and now would not come to save - was now dead, and would remain that way . . . And confused, because in no version of the Grail War he knew of had Lancer been capable of an attack like that. Then again, maybe the kid’s body had been positioned in such a way that the Irishman had accidentally shoved Gae Bolg through a gas line. If so, it would be somewhat ironic that the oft-used excuse for damages from the Grail War turned out to be true in this case.

Either way, Emiya Shirou was dead, and his ultimate desire for the Grail War was achieved - though only time would tell if it had actually done him any good. He supposed that the only way to find out for certain was to finish off the War, and see what happened when he was finally dismissed. And without the idiotic dreamer to slow her down, Rin would doubtlessly accomplish that much goal faster than she originally had.

The only thing he really cursed about tonight’s results was the fact this War’s Saber-class Servant would undoubtedly be someone entirely new to him, and potentially dangerous . . . But, he supposed, you took the good with the bad. And as this was something very,*very good, he’d figure out a way to deal with the bad when it actually came.

“Come along, Archer,” Rin announced. “It’s late, and I’m tired - let’s go home.”

“Of course, Master,” he replied, the very picture of a proper Servant in his tone of voice and mannerisms - and if he enjoyed hearing her gasp as he swept her up into his arms and began leaping back towards the Tohsaka ancestral home, well . . .

That was just icing on the cake tonight.








Kotomine scowled as the stolen Command Seals vanished. All the trouble he’d gone to in order to acquire the Servant, and he was defeated so early in the War . . . Practically on the first day! He knew as little about the other Masters and their Servants he’d started out with!

“So, the mongrel failed,” Gilgamesh sneered. “His performance was as pathetic as the rest of him.”

“. . . So it appears,” Kotomine agreed neutrally. The self-styled “King of Heroes” always required a deft touch to properly handle - the priest’s being his nominal Master or not, the Archer class he’d been summoned as allowed Gilgamesh a fair amount of leeway in regards to his actions and self-sufficiency. The touch of the tainted Holy Grail helped there, as well. They were bound by mutual self-interest, in the end.

“Nevertheless,” Kotomine continued, “we must accept Lancer’s failure, and adjust our plans accordingly.”

“That will be difficult,” Gilgamesh pointed out, “given that all of your plans were contingent upon being based around whatever information the dead fool could manage to acquire for you. Then again, I suppose it’s easier to change nothing into something, after all - because its becoming anything will ultimately be an improvement.”

“Yes,” the priest agreed again, stifling his irritation. “To begin with, our need for accurate intelligence on the other players in this War hasn’t changed. And it’s far too soon for you to make your appearance . . . So therefore, it follows that we must acquire another pawn.”

The blond Servant arched an eyebrow contemptuously. “Indeed? And you just happen to know the identity of another Master, do you? With such information at your fingertips, I have to wonder whether your profession of a dire need for ‘accurate intelligence’ is at all truthful . . .Or if it’s simply intelligence that you lack.”

This time, Kotomine did scowl, but he made no other reaction to the barb, instead returning to his original topic of discussion.

“As it happens,” the priest said smoothly, “I do know of two other likely candidates - but approaching either of them will be . . . Troublesome.”

Very much so, in fact. The two Tohsaka offspring were both sufficiently powerful magi to serve as Masters - of that much, he was certain, having supervised Rin’s training himself over the last decade. The old Matou patriarch would’ve done the same with his little adoptee, ensuring that she was capable of carrying on the skills of his bloodline as well as rejuvenating its dead powers. Indeed, it had been a dream of his late master’s to have the sisters fight, so that Rin might prove her superiority, so there was almost no possibility that the other girl was incapable of participating in the War. The problem was that she was a Matou, and guarded jealously by the family. Getting to her would be quite difficult - not impossible, but it would require a great deal of preemptive planning to accomplish.

Particularly as I have every wish to avoid becoming a victim of the old man’s wrath in the process . . . Kotomine mused.

Rin, on the other hand, was a much easier target to go after - but only in the sense of her being far more accessible to him than her sister. He knew quite well that she didn’t trust him, and wouldn’t let her guard down as the lovely Bazett had. And then there was her pride as a magus. She would almost certainly die before surrendering her Command Seals, and figure out a way to utterly destroy them in the process, just so that he couldn’t use them. The girl had a vindictive streak a mile wide - it was one of the things he liked about her.

But there was a third problem, as well. It was more subtle, but he would be a fool to ignore its existence, either. His own association with the Tohsakas was relatively well known, as were his previous exploits in the last War, and some had questioned his suitability as the current War’s Mediator because of that. If Rin were to suddenly vanish - at least, with no evidence of Servant involvement, now that the War was starting in earnest - all eyes would undoubtedly turn to him for an explanation. And while he had every intention of eventually explaining himself (what fun would there be in doing all this, if he didn’t get to gloat?), it was far too soon to expose his plans with that kind of risk.

But at the same time, as he’d told Gilgamesh, the need was still there. He had to know who and what were out there - and hopefully, what they were planning - if he was going to win this War . . .

Finally, Kotomine shook his head, deciding, “The logistics of getting to either potential Master are too complicated to think on tonight. I believe I shall retire, and attempt to tackle the problem tomorrow morning, when I’m fresh.”

“Ah, yes,” Gilgamesh snorted. “Mortal frailties . . . I don’t miss them.”

Kotomine ignored the last slur in favour of finding his bed with all due haste, while musing that at least while he was asleep, he could escape his Servant’s incessant posturing, If this War turned out to be anything like the last one, then it wasn’t a state he’d find himself in very often.








Shirou awoke to darkness, the sound of silence, the feel of rubble prodding his body (along with an assortment of other pains), and the smell of powdered stone and exposed metal. For a brief, horrifying moment, he thought he was back in the fire, before his memory adjusted itself to the present day.

. . . I . . . I fell? How far? How badly am I hurt?

A quick check confirmed that he could still wiggle everything, meaning that there was no discernable nerve damage, then - and boy, that was a relief. Still, from the aches in his legs, he’d probably ended up breaking something, and maybe several of those, come to that.

At least I’m better off than the other guy . . . Or so Shirou assumed. Whatever that flash of light had been, the blue-haired man had been directly under it. His conscience nagged at him regretfully over not having been able to save the spear-wielder - while a darker part of himself pointed out that in fairness, the man had been trying to kill him at the time. Regardless, Shirou doubted that there was anything left of him now.

Meanwhile, he still hurt, and had no idea where he was.

I’m not really sure my legs will take my weight, and I don’t want to try using magic to create crutches - there’s no telling if it’ll aggravate my injuries . . .

. . . I wonder if there’s anything around here that I can use as a crutch, instead?

Feeling around blindly, Shirou struck a thick, solid handle - maybe an old desk leg, or something - standing straight up in the darkness. He had no idea what was holding it in place, but it seemed like it might be solid enough to lean against, at least for a couple of minutes. He could get an idea of just how badly he was going to be impaired while moving around, that way.

Gripping the handle tightly, Shirou pushed with his arms, forcing his body up to a crouching position, then slowly rising - just before the rubble started to slide under his feet. Panicking, Shirou added pressure to the stick, pushing downwards to anchor himself - and to his horror, it started to slide, swinging out from under him as he unintentionally pushed it forwards, arcing out towards the open air -

And in that moment, lightning struck.

Half-blinded by the flashes and the swirling of winds, Shirou felt a white-hot crackling run through him, as though someone had hooked his nerves up directly to a nuclear generator. He was dimly aware of cool metal pressing in around him, tempering the charge - but it still felt like he was wired, and strong. His makeshift crutch - a big, blocky hammer, as it turned out - felt like a feather in his hand. Shirou had never felt power like this before, and even the sudden awareness that he was wearing some kind of armour wasn’t enough to completely shock him out of the euphoria. The voice, on the other hand, did just fine in that regard.

“Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor,” intoned a voice, a voice that sounded ancient, commanding, and wise.

Shirou had no idea who it belonged to, or what exactly “Thor” was - but the “worthy” part, he understood: he’d finally been rewarded. His unflagging faith in his father’s ideals of justice had been powerful enough that the opportunity to do as he’d always wholeheartedly desired: become a Hero of Justice! It even gave him a shiny outfit, like all superheroes wore!

It needed a helmet, though. All the good sentai heroes had helmets. But he could fix that, once he got back home . . .

Come to think of it - how exactly am I going to get out of here?

Shirou rolled his eyes as the obvious answer occurred to him. He’d just use his new super strength and jump, of course! He just had to balance his Hammer of Justice properly so that it didn’t throw off his balance first . . .

Casually, Shirou swung the hammer up, intending to brace it across his shoulders - but he didn’t quite make it that far. He did, however, discover an entirely different method for escaping.

I’m a Hero of Justice who can fly . . . ! Oh Dad, I hope you’re watching this!

There was no doubt about it. This was going to be awesome.

[SeiKeo]

There was no doubt about it. This was going to be awesome.

This.

[lethum]

This.

THIS.

[ZidanReign]

There was no doubt about it. This was going to be awesome.

Exactly what happened in my pants. I have no shame in this. It was a good death event.

NO REGRETS

[nick012000]

LOL poor Lancer. Even with the end of the Carnival, you're still getting killed off in trivial ways, aren't you?

I do hope he managed to survive somehow and the impact of the hammer just broke his Contract with Kotomine.

Also, Shirou meeting the Asgardians will likely prove to be hilarious. As will Shirou vs Archer. I'm pretty sure Shirou would know who Thor is, though. He's pretty well-read on mythology and the theory behind magic, if his ability to identify strange forms of magic within seconds just by looking at them is anything to go by.

[The Sylentnight]

There was no doubt about it. This was going to be awesome.

Quoted for truth. let the awesome begin my good chap!

[reborn214]

I wonder. What about original thor?

[Shinogu]

This is too cool, I am locked onto this one! Can't wait for what's next!

[Chojomeka]

I want MOAR!

[Aiden]

*is okay with this*

Proceed.

[ZidanReign]

*is okay with this*

Proceed.

[hanashinobi]

You could make Shirou actually be Thor. In the comic book Thor was reborn human and once he got the hammer his Asgardian powers returned and he eventually regained his memory.

[The Sylentnight]

Pft. Who needs the original?

The FAKER is obviously the best. After all, there's no rule saying the imitation can't past the original.

Though your description sounds pretty good. maybe Kieran might use that.

[KAIZA]

This is interesting.
Gentlemanly Caesarko approves.
...
....
.....
Proceed.

[Kieran]

LOL poor Lancer. Even with the end of the Carnival, you're still getting killed off in trivial ways, aren't you?

I do hope he managed to survive somehow and the impact of the hammer just broke his Contract with Kotomine.

Aw, come on . . . I let Archer live, this time - you can't expect me to spare everybody!

Also, Shirou meeting the Asgardians will likely prove to be hilarious. As will Shirou vs Archer.

Yup, on both counts.

I'm pretty sure Shirou would know who Thor is, though. He's pretty well-read on mythology and the theory behind magic, if his ability to identify strange forms of magic within seconds just by looking at them is anything to go by.

To be fair, he's had a rough time, and isn't really thinking straight. Give him some time, and it'll probably come to him.

I wonder. What about original thor?

Good question - I'm undecided at the moment.

[fallenblades643]

Lancer dead by Odin's throw of Thor's hammer, the mans got the worst luck ever despite being a pretty cool guy. Shirou's delusions are a laugh, and Archers reaction to this will be Epic. I will be watching this story in the future.

[Aiden]

Archer: ... wait, I spend my entire life sacrificing for my ideals, and this idiot becomes a god? Fuck this shit.

[Elf]

Archer: ... wait, I spend my entire life sacrificing for my ideals, and this idiot becomes a god? Fuck this shit.

More like "Fuck Rin. Hard."

I'm looking forward to this. Hell Shirou with Thor's hammer would probably cause Archer to go, "Fuck it, better luck the next time."

[Space_Mook]

Since Shirou's thinking along the lines of Sentai will he do a Henshin pose every time activates Thor's powers?

After all that's what a hero of justice should do.