#salterjalter

*************************

“I need a favour.”

Jeanne D’Arc Alter. A dark side that didn’t exist, a fantasy of resentment and revenge dreamed up by a distraught follower who wished on a grail that his idol shared the bitterness he felt. The Dragon Witch. The Devil of Orleans. The Anti-Saint.

Or, as she was referred to by Ritsuka, “Jalter”. A slightly infuriating portmanteau, but one that she had to admit, was somewhat alluring in its distinctiveness. It was definitely better than putting “Jeanne” in her name directly.

And today, Jalter found herself asking for a favour from someone who she very much didn’t want to owe a favour to.

Artoria Pendragon Alter. Unlike Jalter, she was a true dark side. A corruption of Artoria Pendragon by the evils of the grail, but one that reflected a truth of Artoria. The crystallisation of her devotion to duty over emotion, that added “morals” to the pile of things she’d sacrificed in pursuit of being an ideal king. A hero would others would never call by that name, but one who, like any hero, defeated her enemies and claimed victories for her nation. A cruel manifestation of the tyrant that her people had shaped her into and come to fear at the end of her reign.

Ritsuka called her “Salter”, which, frankly, Jalter thought sounded like a bizarre name for a salt shaker more than a dark king of knights, but it seemed to have stuck nonetheless.

“No.”

Salter didn’t even look up from her book as she flatly rejected Jalter.

“Wha- you haven’t even heard what I was going to ask!” Jalter snapped.

“I don’t care,” Salter said. “Why should I do you any favours?”

Jalter grit her teeth.

“Look,” she said. “You know that the other me is getting married to that ditzy french princess, right?”

“Yes,” Salter said. Of course she knew. How could she have missed it, with how much of a big deal was being made of it? It was all over Chaldea. Apparently Da Vinci had programmed a chapel in the simulator just for this occasion. 

“Master is making me go to the wedding,” Jalter said. “And I am not going alone.”

“You won’t be alone. There’s plenty of other people going.”

Ugh. That was true too. All sorts of servants were being appointed flower girls or bridesmaids or whatever. 

“That isn’t what I meant,” Jalter said.

“So get to what you do mean and stop beating around the bush,” Salter said, finally looking up from her book. “Since apparently you still haven’t learned to take no for an answer.”

“I mean that if I go there single, my other self is going to be unbearable. Being all sympathetic and encouraging me to find someone and all that crap. I’m not putting up with it.”

“Unfortunately, you don’t have any choice. Stop yowling like a wet kitten and deal with it.”

“I do have a choice. Ask someone to pretend to my girlfriend, so Jeanne will leave me alone.”

Salter stared contemptuously at her.

“As usual, you haven’t thought this out at all,” she said. “You can’t possibly expect me to go along with this. I don’t get a single thing out of it.”

Jalter grimaced. This was the part of the conversation she’d hoped she might be able to weasel out of…

“Look,” she said. “You only have to pretend for like, one day. Once the wedding is over, I don’t have to give the other me a chance to lecture me about my love life, so you can say you broke up with me or whatever.”

“I don’t care. I still don’t have any reason to do it.”

“Ahh, jeez, fine! I’ll do anything you ask, okay?!”

Salter paused, a dangerous looking smile on her face.

“Anything?” she said.

Jalter sighed.

“Anything,” she grumbled.

*************************

“What the hell is this?”

Jalter held up the strip of fabric that she’d been handed skeptically.

She’d followed Salter back to her room, and then Salter had left for a short while and returned with a small box.

“It’s a costume,” Salter said, handing her a hairband. A hairband with… cat ears? “The castle shut-in made it. Now put it on and beg me to help you.”

“What?” Jalter growled.

“I said, put on the costume and beg. On your knees.” Salter smirked. ”If you can’t, that’s fine with me. I just won’t go along with your little farce.”

Jatler ground her teeth, her fists clenched 

“Fine!” she snapped. “I’ll do it. But at least look the other way while I’m changing.”

“No deal,” Salter said, sitting down in an armchair and crossing her arms. “You don’t have any bargaining power here, dragon witch.”

Jalter ground her teeth hard enough that Salter could probably hear it, but she started to angrily pull her clothes off. “Fine!” she snapped. “Be that way, you stupid pervert!”

It wasn’t a big deal. She was just changing, that was all. Just like any other time changing. She was not doing a striptease for Salter.

Getting naked was humiliating enough. But somehow, putting the costume on after was actually even worse. It barely covered anything, and there was even a damn tail attached to the bottom… she was going to incinerate Osakabehime after this.

“Now beg,” Salter said, one leg crossed over the other as she rested the side of her head on a fist. Every inch the demanding king. Ugh.

“H-Help me out, please…” she mumbled.

“On your knees, little kitten,” Salter said. “And speak clearly.”

Ugh.

Jalter slowly lowered herself to her knees, bowing her head.

“Will you please help me already, you goddamn ice queen?”.

“Is that how they ask for a favour out in the sticks of France?” Salter said. “Please, try to translate your request to proper English manners for me, provincial maid of Orleans.”

Jalter growled.

“Look me in the eye and ask nicely.”

Jalter forced herself to look up at Salter. Towering over her, every inch a king on her throne. Jalter could practically see the crown on her head.

“...Please help me, king of knights,” she managed.

“There, you can do it if you try,” Salter said.

Jalter was utterly humiliated, and absolutely infuriated. 

And also kind of really turned on, which just made her more angry.

“Fine, I’ll help you,” Salter said. “You can leave now.”

“...Right,” Jalter mumbled.

Salter raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing!” Jalter said quickly.

Salter smirked. A smirk that said she could see right through Jalter.

“You could leave now,” Salter said, reaching down and gently cupping Jalter’s chin in her hand. “Or… I could start early on pretending to be your girlfriend.”

Jalter grit her teeth.

“Can I at least take the stupid costume off?” she said.

“Leave the ears on,” Salter said.