[FF] Trinity V: The Chosen (Type-Moon/Harry Potter X-over)

[hatori]

* takes out a chequebook.*

Now how much do you want for the rights to this fanfic?

*Boss mode off*

seriously wicked stuff kieran.

[Kratosirving]

*Turns out pockets* Yup, I got nothing.


...Ginneville shipping is good.

[Kieran]

Well, I had a number of reasons for these scenes.

1) [Galen] - I didn't feel like turning Mira against him, too. Besides, I've been waiting to do the Pocahontas bit since I used the song against Fluffy. I also figured I'd lay out the likely plot points early, and see if I could figure out what was likely to happen. Obviously, without certain circumstances, the prophecy is not going to be a high priority (hence the change from my original title idea, "Trinity: The Prophecy").

2) [Ginny] - Hadn't done a Ginny/Neville scene before, and like the Takara/Galen ones in "The Tournament," I figured they were due. Besides, it's always nice to see what the other members of the Scarlet Seven get up to when the trinity isn't around.

3) [Takara] - Yeah, you guys seemed interested in watching she and Hermione - um, "play" - and that was an influence, but she has missed her friends, and Hermione is, by nature, a very cuddlesome type of person now, and still prone to overreacting. So it made sense that she might go a little far when she gets desperate - unconsciously or not.

Aside from that, they're 14 (Ginny & Luna) to 16 (Galen & Hermione) now, so dating and sex ought to be on the radar, yes? The stress of the opening salvos of war just adds to it, I would think.

[SeiKeo]

No kidding it ought to be on the radar. I'm impressed that with all the stress they've been under, they haven't gotten started sooner.

[Kieran]

Well, Takara has tried - it just hasn't ended well. And as I am not especially good at writing lemons (though prolonged exposure to Elf has at least gotten me to the point where I don't freak at trying), I've tried to avoid much in the way of titillation so far.

. . . Oh, hell - bad choice of words.

[SeiKeo]

Hey, no need for a full lemon when a fade to black will do

[Kratosirving]

Well, Takara has tried - it just hasn't ended well. And as I am not especially good at writing lemons (though prolonged exposure to Elf has at least gotten me to the point where I don't freak at trying), I've tried to avoid much in the way of titillation so far.

. . . Oh, hell - bad choice of words.

...Oh, I know exactly how you feel. You're not the only fly who's gotten caught in that web of debauchery...

[Elf]

*Whistles innocently*

Also, Ginny and Neville are adorable.

[Kieran]

*Whistles innocently*

Nice try - we know you're anything but.

Also, Ginny and Neville are adorable.

I like them together. Of course, I also like Neville with Luna, so I'm really torn as to which of the two girls he should end up with.

[Kratosirving]

Well, you seem to shatter everyone's expectations, so you'll probably have Ginny and Luna end up together in the end.

[Kieran]

Well, you seem to shatter everyone's expectations, so you'll probably have Ginny and Luna end up together in the end.

*coughs* Um . . . Hadn't thought of that.








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. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.

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



Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them when they see them.



Chapter 3 - Of Lust and Love



July 31 - August 8, 1995






Hermione kept her eyes mostly on the ground as she followed Takara out of the townhouse proper and into the backyard dojo, which to any observer would seem to be merely a garden shed. Space-expansion charms, however, made it a reasonable size to practice with wand or sword, including sufficient length for target shooting. In this case, Hermione doubted that it would be necessary, as Takara’s target of choice was much closer than the other end of the range. At least, she assumed it was - her friend’s mood was hard to read. It was doubtful that Takara was furious, as ice crystals were not forming on the immediate surroundings, nor was the air unseasonably chill, but assuming she was far from that point would be a definite mistake. Not for the first time, Hermione wished for Galen’s capacity to cause lightning - having the ability to smite herself was currently very appealing.

We never have determined why they can do that. And it isn’t unique to them, either - Luna managed a bit of wind, last year. Of course, she’s younger, and accidental magic is still a possibility with her, but the others produce such consistent effects, now - Shirou works in flame, Takara in ice, and while Galen used to cause fires and wind to flare, Ginny says it seems to be consistently lightning. Is it something in their other-dimensional nature, or just unique to them as people? Do all witches and wizards have the capability? What can be done with it . . . And what does it matter? Hermione berated herself. You’ve just botched your last chance at patching up your friendship with her, you bloody idiot!

How could she have been so stupid? Even unconsciously, she should’ve known cuddling up to Takara like that was a bad idea! It had been awkward enough when they’d had to do it in third year - that they were older, more physically mature, and on the outs just made it worse . . .! But by the same token, when she was that upset, what else would she be expected to do but to instinctively seek comfort from the presence of Takara? The Japanese girl had been her first female friend her own age, the first girl who hadn’t made fun of her hair, her teeth, her bossy streak or her “know-it-all-ness.” She’d never teased her for being a teacher’s pet, or reading books thicker than her arm rather than magazines about hair and makeup. Granted, they’d started out lumped together because of their mutual association with Galen, but Hermione had come to appreciate the other girl.

Takara Aozaki was gorgeous, but never flaunted it - she didn’t even seem to realise it! She was a jock, but she didn’t disdain learning - the Japanese witch might not read up on the history of Arithmancy for fun, but the library wasn’t foreign territory to her, either. Her grades weren’t critical to her, but she didn’t skive off - and Takara didn’t insult Hermione when she got obsessive about exams or homework. More importantly, she seemed to appreciate that Hermione made the effort to see that Takara got it done as well as she could. She didn’t make fun of Hermione for hating heights or brooms when she herself performed aerobatic stunts at speeds that ought to make a hummingbird nauseous, or when Hermione was winded in one of their exercises. She seemed to honestly enjoy Hermione’s company, just because - and Hermione loved her for that.

Takara had been her best friend for years, the closest thing she’d ever have to a twin sister despite their physical and personal differences. In fact, the differences made it easier for them to get along, because they never felt a sense of competition over something, but weren’t so different that they didn’t appreciate the other’s qualities. Had Takara been more like, say, Cho Chang of Ravenclaw, Hermione doubted they’d be as close - the other girl was a pure-blood, even more into Quidditch, and as obsessed about her grades as Hermione was. They’d be at each other’s throats in the few areas that their interests overlapped, and utterly baffled by each other the rest of the time. And then, too, they had Galen as a buffer and a major point of common interest, which made being friends much easier . . .

And now I’ve spoiled it, she thought miserably.

Takara closed the door and activated as many privacy charms as they knew - the dojo was effectively invisible, so far as casting spells went. There would be no warnings against underage magic use in here - so if Takara planned to hex her . . .

Hermione tried again to apologise. “Takara, I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to - ”

“What did you mean, Hermione?” the Japanese witch asked quietly. Not quite the “I am about to kill you for offending me” voice Hermione had heard when Galen nearly drowned in the lake, but not entirely friendly, either.

“I just . . . You’re my best friend, and I’ve missed you so much - I must’ve . . .” Hermione slumped morosely. “I could say it was the lioness in me, and it would be true - but it would be an excuse. Conscious or unconscious, instinct or not, I had no right to do that to you . . .” In a very small voice, she concluded, “I’ll pack my things and go now - I’m sorry for the trouble.”

She turned, took one step - and froze when Takara said, “Hermione.”

To her surprise, slenderly muscled arms wrapped around her from behind, and she felt Takara’s chin perch on her shoulder. The scent of cinnamon was strong in Hermione’s nostrils - some of Takara’s hair was laying against her cheek.

“I should be used to this by now,” the Japanese witch murmured in her ear. “I know cats, I know how demonstrative they can be, and you’ve been doing little touches and brushes for years - but I wasn’t expecting you to curl up beside me like that, and the fact that you’d decided to grab my chest . . . I was more than a little freaked out. But if comfort was all that you wanted, then I suppose I can’t blame you. I didn’t mind hugging you when I was eleven.”

Takara released her, and Hermione turned back slowly, puzzling over what she’d said, repeating, “If comfort was all that I - oh! You thought I - ?!” The brown-eyed witch could feel her throat closing, and her face turning crimson, but she managed to sputter indignantly, “You actually thought that I . . .?”

“I wasn’t sure,” Takara said quietly. “We are at the age where a lot of girls in my class - um, ‘experimented.’ I wasn’t sure if it was the same in Britain, or just wishful thinking on the part of the Weasley twins . . .”

Hermione blinked at the forcible reminder that Takara was a lot older than the candles on her birthday cake implied, and came from a culture with far more liberal views on certain aspects of sexuality - two, really, considering that her mother was French. And now that the idea was planted in her head, her overactive mind actually considered the possibility.

“Honestly, if I was going to ‘experiment,’ you’d be my first choice,” Hermione admitted quietly. “The only other girl I’m close enough to is Luna - and I’d feel I was taking advantage, because she’s younger and not quite aware enough, I think, to say ‘no.’ But you’d insist on being an equal partner, and we’ve been friends for years. And on the physical side, it doesn’t exactly hurt that you’re bloody hot. You’ve got hair like silk, skin like cream, not so much as an ounce of extra fat - and don’t go on about your thighs, that’s all muscle and you know it - legs that go on forever, and you move like you’re dancing even when you’re climbing stairs. Short of a Veela, I don’t know any girl more attractive - so if I was going to go that route, who else would I want but you?” She shook her head. “But no - it’s the lion in me. They always keep some contact with each other when they sleep. . .”

Hermione trailed off, blushing.

“I know,” Takara said. “I did watch some nature documentaries when we got our forms - and there were a few nice shots of a pride at rest.” Her own cheeks coloured. “And if you tell anyone I’ll deny it, but if you hadn’t latched on to my chest like that, I’d probably have just fallen back to sleep - you make a very comfortable body pillow, Hermione.”

“Secret for a secret, then,” Hermione returned shyly. “That nap in third year is still the best sleep I’ve ever had. The curtains and the cloak kept our presence secret, so I didn’t need to worry about the Time-Turner, you were close by, and the sheets smelled like - ” She stopped, and looked down at the floor, her face turning miserable again.

“Galen,” Takara finished neutrally.

“. . . What am I going to do?” Hermione moaned. “I was utterly awful to him - again! He can’t even bear to let me touch him, now . . . And I can’t even apologise, because he’s gone out of his way to avoid me!”

“Not so much fun from this end, is it?” the Japanese witch asked crisply, causing Hermione to stare at her. “You had reasons to be hurt, Hermione - we all knew that. Reasons to be confused, to lash out, and even if I think you took it too far, I couldn’t complain, because he let you do it. He’d have cut out his heart if you’d asked for it, and never worried about the pain it caused him - but don’t you dare think that it didn’t.”

The air in the dojo abruptly seemed much colder, raising goosebumps on Hermione’s skin.

“If anyone else had hurt him the way you have, I’d have killed them myself,” Takara said sharply. “But like you said - you’re my best friend . . . And you’re the one person he might actually attack me to protect,” she added, “so I let it go. But don’t think I’m happy about it, Hermione.”

“How was I supposed to take it?” Hermione demanded. “How did you? He lied to you from the instant he appeared - how did you just shrug that off?”

“I didn’t,” Takara retorted. “But there wasn’t time to be angry about it - when I finally found out, my father was dying, my mother had been kidnapped, and despite everything, he just kept working to save them, even against things he knew would kill him, that he had no chance of stopping . . . In the end, he died to keep them with me - and without that lie and the ability to make it real, my family and I would have been killed years ago. Should he have told me the truth, then? Would it have been worth my parents’ lives, my life, to know that he wasn’t who and what he seemed?” She shook her head. “I eventually decided that the ends, in this case, justified the means - and that if I might not always be able to trust his words, or even his actions, I could always trust his intentions. It’s not perfect, Hermione, but it was enough for me. Why wasn’t it enough for you?”

“It should have been,” Hermione admitted bitterly. “But the idea that I wasn’t real - ”

“Hermione,” Takara cut her off, “think back over the last five years. Do you have any doubts - really - that you aren’t real to us? Galen was willing to die for you in first year.”

That particular memory was never far from her mind, and after thinking about it, she had to finally admit, “ . . . No.”

“Then what’s the problem? If we’re the only ones who could claim you aren’t real, and we say that you are, was it really worth getting upset over?”

“. . . No - but what now? How do I apologise to Galen for this?”

She sounded desperate even to her own ears. Galen’s steadfast presence and support had been one of the cornerstones of her world since she was twelve years old - and while she could live without it, it hurt. It hurt even more that Miranda was still friends with him. She hadn’t been jealous of her sister at any point in her entire life, but this . . . !

“We’ll think of something, if you really want to,” Takara said quietly. “Ilya can probably help - she knows how he thinks even better than I do . . . Of course, we’ll have to tear her away from her studies.”

“Studies?” Hermione queried. “I thought she’d completed her seventh year last year.”

“She did - but now she’s got some project or other in mind, and has been ransacking every book Mother and Father have, in addition to her family library,” Takara answered. “It must be important, but she won’t say exactly what ‘it’ is.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “If I didn’t before, I trust her by now - but I have to wonder what it is that she’s up to . . .”






Ilya sighed as she relaxed into Shirou’s side. Her voice sent vibrations through his chest, but was still audible as she murmured, “I think I can do it. I think that by the time the summer’s over, I’ll have my Defence Mastery - and then I’ll be eligible to teach at Hogwarts!” She grinned brightly at him. “You’ll get to have me for another year - won’t that be fun?” Her eyes went half-lidded suddenly, and her voice turned husky as she added, “You’ll probably become the biggest troublemaker in the school after you serve your first detention with me . . .”

“Ilya,” Shirou sighed. “War on, threat to the peace and safety of innocent lives? Does any of that sound familiar? Besides, I thought Galen said the position was cursed.”

Ilya pouted at the interruption of her fun, before sighing and relenting. “It is - Riddle cursed it about twenty-odd years ago, when he dropped off the Diadem. No teacher will last more than a year in that position - but I’ve got to be better than the pink toad, don’t I?”

“You probably would be - but I don’t want you getting hurt, or killed, by some stupid curse.”

“And I don’t want you getting killed by substandard instruction!” she fired back. “At least if I handle it myself, I’ll know you’re being taught something worthwhile, instead of wasting an entire year on crap!”

Shirou winced - Ilya rarely used any level of cursing, and it was never a good thing when she did. She must’ve been more upset by the possibility than he’d realised.

“There’s no guarantee that will happen this time,” Shirou reminded her softly. “Things have changed.”

“I know,” Ilya murmured, burying herself in the junction where his neck and shoulder met. “And that’s almost worse. As much as we could hate the inability to change the patterns of this place, at least the predictability gave us an edge. Now I don’t know what might happen. You could . . . You could . . .” She swallowed hard, before finally whispering, “You could die.”

She tried her best to burrow deeper into his embrace, and never before had Shirou been so strongly reminded of Ilya as she’d been as a little girl - or so strongly reminded that she was definitely not a little girl any longer. And at nearly fifteen, he was absolutely aware of the latter fact.

“Don’t tease me,” Ilya whispered, which almost prompted him to glare at her. She was the one doing the writhing - shouldn’t he be saying that?

Then again, I have teenaged male hormones again - there’s no way in hell I would say that.

“Both of them are home at the same time, I’ve finally taken a break from my studies so we can talk to them together - and it’s past your birthday, so the occasion wasn’t spoiled,” Ilya pointed out. “Can you think of any reason why we can’t tell them now, you big chicken?”

“I’m not a chicken!” Shirou protested. “I simply have a healthy respect for our parents and a functioning survival instinct.” He smirked before adding, “Besides, I don’t have to think of one - there is one. Galen’s been closeted with them all day.”

Ilya stiffened. “Why?”

Shirou did his best to shrug, given his position. “I don’t know - I assume he has a plan.”

“His last ‘plan’ involved having Sirius go undercover to join the Death Eaters,” Ilya muttered to herself, before her eyes suddenly widened, and she was leaped off Shirou and began racing for Kiritsugu’s study. Shirou didn’t understand why she chose to panic - before he remembered that she had a copy of all Galen’s memories, and could probably predict what he was planning. At the thought that it was bad enough to provoke Ilya to do that, he began running, too.

As luck (good or bad) would have it, Galen was just emerging from the study beside Kiritsugu. Ilya said in her most cheerful voice, “Hello, Papa! May I borrow Galen for a few moments? I need to talk to him.” She paused, then with a glance at Shirou added, “And would you and Mama wait there, please? We’ll need to talk to you, too, afterwards.”

Shirou winced at that statement, but acknowledged the fact that he was caught - and that Ilya was being far from unreasonable in this. He should’ve told them weeks ago, but his fear of their reaction had made him keep putting it off. It wasn’t shame over Ilya, so much as knowing what he would do to any boy interested in his daughter - and knowing the reaction came from being raised by Kiritsugu. Whatever Kaa-san did about it, it was Kiritsugu whose response he was afraid of. Of course, Ilya was certain she could wrap him around her little finger, and was more worried about her mother’s reaction, but as Arcueid had been known to say on occasion, “C’est la vie.”

(It still amused Shirou that a woman born in Eastern Europe used French so frequently, but he’d finally come to the conclusion that she did it to tweak Ciel, the actual Frenchwoman of the family. Why, he wasn’t sure - but he couldn’t think of any other explanation.)

While his musings over that had been going on, Ilya had dragged a startled Galen back to the sitting room they’d been in, drawn her wand, and sealed all the entrances and exits. When she turned back to Galen, her hair was a spread of silver-gold feathers.

“What have you done?!” she demanded.

“He only said he’d consider it,” Galen said calmly.

“Consider WHAT?!” Ilya shrieked. “What are you trying to talk my parents into, Galen?”

“Something they can get away with,” Galen answered. “Something that can help.”

Blue flames began dancing at her fingertips, and she growled, “Details.”

Galen sighed. “We spent four years trying to prevent this war, and we blew it. All we can do now is fight it like we plan to win - and the best way to do that is to cut off Riddle’s resources at the start, minimise his capacity to deal damage. That means take his money, his followers, his potions ingredients - anything he might conceivably be able to make use of, deny him. It’s really hard to conquer the world with three followers, even if you can’t find them. Now, Lucius was the primary money man and influence pedlar, so with him on the run, that’s a major hit - not enough to finish him, but enough to slow him down. The identity of the new Minister might change that, when he or she is elected. The magical races we’ve covered as best we can, so that leaves one resource he can still tap that we haven’t dealt with yet.”

“And that is?” Shirou prompted.

“Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, at least a dozen others - ” Galen began.

“The Death Eaters who escaped being sent to Azkaban,” Ilya finished. She paused, narrowing her eyes in thought. “You’re talking about assassinating them.”

“Like we probably could have, and probably should have done a few years ago,” Galen said flatly. “We know their names. We know how to find them. We know that every one of them fully supports Riddle, and are instrumental in his takeover - and we know that there isn’t a wizard alive who can stop a bullet, if they even think to try. Maybe he loses enough people to break his followers out of Azkaban and give the Ministry a real impetus to go hunting for him, even if they don’t actually know who they’re after. Maybe we do enough damage and lead him to think that this is part of that prophecy, and he focusses on trying to get it so that he can find out what the hell is going on. Whatever happens, your dad’s got diplomatic immunity, the Ministry can’t touch him if he’s caught - and Riddle would’ve come after him anyway.”

“The Path of the Asura,” Shirou said flatly. “You want to put him back on it?”

“What makes you think he left?” Galen snapped. “The ICW usually sends him out alone - most cops work in pairs. You’re going to tell me that you honestly think he and Shiki don’t handle their black ops?”

Ilya glared. “But if he gets caught by them - !”

“Then give me another option,” Galen said. “Tell me what else we can do to stop this, or slow it down, when we’re legally required to be in school until we’ve taken our O.W.L.s, so hunting him or his Horcruxes is an impossibility. When the only adult we trust on the Wizengamot is in a non-voting seat - Mrs. Longbottom can propose bills as a private member, but has no actual power in regards to the way things are run - and none of our parents have influence in the local political system to make a difference. When it looks like a good bet that a Riddle supporter, if not an outright Death Eater, will be the next Minister, and we have absolutely no evidence to suggest to the rest of the world that is such a bad idea - I am open to better suggestions!”

Silence reigned for several moments, while they thought it through. However much Ilya seemed to dislike the idea of putting Kiritsugu at risk - and he admitted, he wasn’t fond of it, either - Shirou had to agree that Galen had a point. While they probably should have eliminated the Death Eaters a year or two back, it was unnecessary to try while they still had hope of ending the war before it started. Now that Riddle was fully active again, leaving enemy combatants and infiltrators in place when they knew about them was an idiotic move. Sure, they could use some of them for counterintelligence purposes, maybe - but the out-and-out thugs? Better to take them out while they could, before anything started.

“I still don’t like it,” Ilya muttered. “It feels like I just got him back - and we were about to tell our parents about - ” She paused, and gave Galen a measuring look.

He snorted in response. “Please, Milady - like it hasn’t been obvious, even to me? I’d wager your parents have figured it out, too - but I’ll give you the privacy to ask them yourselves. Good afternoon - and good luck.”

Shirou felt kind of stupid about that - while they hadn’t been advertising their status last year, they hadn’t been hiding it from their friends, either. And Galen understood Ilya better than anyone here, aside from himself and maybe Rin, so why wouldn’t he already know, or at least have guessed? From Ilya’s flushed cheeks, she was entertaining similar thoughts - and those thoughts kept his mind occupied until he was sitting in Kiritsugu’s study, facing both of their parents.

“Kaa-san . . . Dad,” Shirou began uncertainly. He hesitated, before finally deciding to just get it over with. “Last year, Ilya and I decided that - well, that we love each other as more than just a brother and sister. It’s our eventual intention to marry.”

He paused, eyes locked on Kiritsugu. His dark eyes were unfathomable - and a quick glance showed his mother to be deathly pale, with a stricken expression on her face.

“. . . Papa?” Ilya asked at last, after the silence stretched beyond even uncomfortable limits.

Kiritsugu closed his eyes and sighed, suddenly looking drained. Like he had in the last year or so before he died.

“Shirou,” he said carefully, “As I am aware you’re not blood-related, and at least on some level, weren’t actually raised as siblings, I don’t really have grounds to object. It would take a while to wrap my head around, but knowing you as I do, I couldn’t really ask for anyone better for Ilya, if you’re the one she wants - ”

“I do, Papa,” Ilya said earnestly, “more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Shirou saw Iris stiffen as though she’d suddenly been stabbed, but his attention was on Kiritsugu, as he knew that this was just preparation - the man was trying to soften a blow, but if he didn’t object, Shirou couldn’t see where it was coming from . . .

“But,” Kiritsugu continued. “There are certain circumstances of which you’re not aware that will make any attempt at your marrying Ilya difficult, if not outright impossible.”

“And they are?” Shirou asked, in an equally careful tone. The fireplace which served as the study’s private Floo access, however, suddenly blazed much harder.

Iris interrupted, her glare at Ilya like nothing he’d ever seen from her before - it was almost manic, and it reflected as a desperate, hysterical tone to her voice as she demanded, “Ilyasviel, have you chosen him? The truth, daughter - have you chosen him?!”

Kiritsugu was suddenly as white as any homunculus Shirou had ever seen. “That was just a joke! She was a little girl! Ilya, you can’t have - !”

“Yes,” Ilya interrupted quietly - barely a whisper, but she might as well have shouted, for all the attention the answer gained her.

“Shirou is my Chosen, Papa,” Ilya said, and he could hear the capitalisation in the word, now, the importance - even if he didn’t understand what it meant. “Just as you are Mama’s.”

Iris burst into tears, and the white in Kiritsugu’s complexion became a corpse-like gray. He slumped forward like a marionette whose strings had abruptly been cut, burying his face in his hands.

“Then we have a definite problem,” he said dully.

“Dad, I don’t understand - what’s going on?” Shirou demanded.

“Veela can be fickle, Shirou, but they are faithful, too,” Kiritsugu said. “And despite her human blood, Ilya apparently has the trait in full measure. For her, there is no one else, and there never will be. Her magic will ensure it - it will kill her if she marries anyone but you. But by the laws that govern the Einzbern family, as its heir, Ilya will have to, because you’re not considered suitable.” His voice was barely a whisper.

“In loving you as deeply as she does, Ilya has signed her own death warrant.”








Addtional Writer's Notes: And now the secondary meaning of the title becames clear, I hope.

[Kratosirving]

...FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


Also, hehe, I poked your brain.

[wakka]

Well, to hell with the Einzbern family laws then. Ilya may have to wait a year or two until Voldemort dies for the final time but whoever or whatever enforces those can be next.

[Alulim]

Ilya fun time~

[Techlet]

Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her Kieran isn't going to kill her

I am in the Nile!

[Alulim]

If she dies, I am going to go to my closet and fetch the chocolate.

[jwang]

Oh dear. I'm guessing family members can't marry family members is the law here? Or does it say something else? Also, since Kiritsugu is going to be going into Black Ops mode, I'm going to be hoping that Kotomine doesn't make an appearance. Then again, him being the troll he is, he's going to show up. As a troll. Literally.

[Yojo]

Very nice twists and divergences Kieran. That said, this is the perfect opportunity! With Shirou needing something like standing in order to fulfill the Einzbern bylaws, what better way is there to do this then (nominaly) marry into the Delacour family, assume the mantle of future head of the family through the heir Rin, then turn around and marry Ilya as someone of equal station? I'm pretty sure that it was never stated if Rin or Fleur were older... and it's a perfect way of getting continued Shirou/Rin/Ilya tension, treating Rin right, and still keeping the waffy romance. Of course, Kieran probably has something completely different planned, but hey, I'm still rooting for Shirou, Ilya, and Rin to all somehow get a good future out of everything.

Edit: By treating Rin right, I mean, there's two ways I look at her character: On one hand, she literally crossed dimensions to be with someone she loved in Archer- she deserves to have her happy ending and somehow manage to be with Archer. On the other hand, she threw herself blindly into another dimension with the expectation that Archer would be hers, and she would get her happily ever after despite what Archer may or may not have wanted. In my view, she deserves the right to be with him due to the lengths she went, but on Shriou's terms. I guess I wasn't very clear about that: the whole reason to include Rin would be a nominal one, despite what she may want, as means of appeasing the magical bloodline clause or whatever is causing Kiritsugu to freak out so badly. The idea is that they'd be linked together in a way that they form a mini-Trinity, never able to be separated, but wouldn't be romantically involved.

[Techlet]

How is marrying another woman treating either one of them right?

[Elf]

Oh snap.

Now we get to find out why Shirou can't marry Ilya.

However, Ilya wouldn't be the first woman in political history to have a consort/lover behind her "husband's" back.