Chapter 15 - Gradual Growths
"Oh my, if it isn't Camelot's newest squire," a voice spoke up as he dragged his tired body down the now-familiar hallway, one part teasing and one part surprised delight, and Jaune immediately turned to face its owner even as she jogged up to him, the sweat and dirt and plate armor doing little to detract from Gareth's radiance as she grinned at her fellow squire.
As she caught up to him, and he clasped her gauntlet with his own hand in greeting, he returned the grin even as he easily shot back: "Nice to see you too, Camelot's youngest squire."
Gareth laughed and rolled her eyes, and as the pair separated she asked: "I didn't know you were back in Camelot, Jaune... when did you and Sir Mordred return?"
"Actually, we just got back," Jaune informed her even as he stretched his back. "Sir Mordred's gone to deliver his account of our trip to Sir Agravain, though."
"I see," Gareth nodded, giving her friend a quick once-over, before eagerly pressing: "And is it true?"
"Is what true?" Jaune blinked and cocked his head in confusion.
"What the men are saying you and Sir Mordred got up to during your travels in the past few weeks!" Gareth prompted excitedly.
"What we got up to?" Jaune echoed bemusedly. "All we did was go around the surrounding towns and villages as a learning journey, like we said we were going to..."
"So... you didn't rout an entire Saxon raiding party?" Gareth asked with only mild disappointment.
"... I don't think I've even seen a Saxon before..." Jaune admitted, shaking his head.
"What about levelling a score of forests from here to the lands of the Picts from the fury of your countless duels?"
"We've only been gone for a few weeks, and we definitely never went that far North!"
"And is that a 'no' to slaying a rampaging dragon and save a town?"
"... is that an actual problem that happens here often?" Jaune couldn't help but ask, even as a part of him realized belatedly that Gareth wasn't being completely serious with her questioning.
After all, they had believed him with remarkably little difficulty about his own battle with a dragon, and while he hadn't looked a gift horse in the mouth back then...
"Well, Sir Lancelot slew one in single combat a few years ago, just before he became my mentor, and Sir Kay was said to have shocked fire dragons into flying back from whence they came..." Gareth recalled, before chuckling and admitting: "But I would have definitely been most surprised had that story turned out to be true."
"Well, either way, Sir Mordred and I definitely did not do anything of those things," Jaune rolled his eyes, before rhetorically retorting: "Do you really think Sir Agravain would have allowed Sir Mordred to take me on a field trip if he'd thought such a thing was likely?"
"That is certainly true..." Gareth conceded, even as her hand went up to her chin thoughtfully, before she mused: "You know... Agravain is the only one besides His Majesty who can actually get Sir Mordred to listen to him most of the time..."
"Really?" Jaune tried to inject as much disinterested skepticism as he could into his voice even as he suddenly found an interesting cloud to fix his gaze on.
"I'm serious!" Gareth protested, heedlessly following her thoughts wherever they guided her. "And come to think of it... when Mother first introduced Sir Mordred to the Round Table, Agravain didn't seem surprised or impressed at all."
"Does Sir Agravain ever seem surprised or impressed?" Jaune wondered off-handedly, still trying to steer the conversation back to safer topics.
"Perhaps not to most people, but I can read my brother, Jaune," Gareth pointed out, still refusing to be distracted from piecing together the image slowly forming in her head (much to Jaune's dismay). "But even though he was neither surprised nor impressed, he was still among the first to voice his support for Sir Mordred's membership..."
Fortunately for Jaune, though, before he could accidentally put his foot into his mouth and potentially incriminate himself any further, Gareth wondered out loud: "Do you think brother helped train Sir Mordred before he came to Camelot?"
Jaune didn't quite breathe a sigh of relief that his mentor's secret had been preserved, but it was a close thing, and after a few moments of recomposing himself (which he cleverly disguised as thinking the question over, in the spirit of younger siblings trying to get out trouble everywhere), he deflected: "... well, I suppose, you'd know better than me..."
"Hmm, that is true..." Gareth hummed thoughtfully, before she shook her head and sighed after a few moments: "Sir Mordred's skill with the blade far outclasses Agravain's, and considering both his duties in Camelot and his dedication to them, I do not believe he would have had the time or inclination to take on an apprentice, save perhaps as a scribe..."
Jaune nodded along encouragingly, even as a part of him felt conflicted over Gareth coming to the wrong conclusion about Sir Mordred's relationship with Sir Agravain (and her, by extension).
Sure, the misunderstanding was both to be expected (he doubted Gareth could even conceive of the notion that her mother had kept another brother a secret from the entire family save Sir Agravain) and convenient (it wasn't his secret to tell, and Sir Mordred had made it very clear he didn't want Gareth to find out, no matter how many times he'd asked), but at the same time he couldn't help but feel like Gareth would have been a good influence on Sir Mordred.
Still, though, he'd only gotten as far as he had because Team JNPR had respected his secrets, and so he instead changed the subject: "And speaking of training, how's yours coming along? Are we about to see the youngest Knight of the Round Table any time soon?"
"Oh, Sir Lancelot said he's willing to bestow my knighthood upon me as soon as I am of age!" Gareth informed him cheerfully, perking up at the chance to speak about her mentor (just as Jaune knew she would). Then the brown bangs that accented her blonde hair drooped, and she quietly murmured: "Though, recently..."
"Is everything alright?" Jaune leaned in, unable to help the concern that welled up within him.
After a moment of hesitation, where Gareth weighed her admiration for Sir Lancelot with her worry about his recent behavior, she shook her head and smiled reassuringly: "I am sure it's nothing, Jaune. He has been a bit... distracted, ever since the feast, but who can blame him? The words Sir Tristan spoke still haunt many of the men who were present, and he has not allowed it to affect his mentorship of me, such is the strength of his character."
"..." Jaune looked back at the castle for a moment as he remembered that feast, before shaking his head, not wanting to think about how much harder someone who'd actually known both the King and Sir Tristan would have taken it.
Silence descended on the pair for a few moments, before Gareth took her turn to change the subject: "So, want to see the progress I've made on Ira Lupus so far?"
"Sure, why not," Jaune said with a smile and a shrug, a small part of him quietly giving thanks to Ruby Rose for all the times she'd talked about weaponsmithing as he did so. Sure, he was nowhere near the level of even a blacksmith's apprentice (or a Signal student), but he'd picked up enough via simple proximity and osmosis to at least give a few pointers.
As the pair made towards their new destination together, however, and the whispering of passers-by around them only grew in intensity, Jaune barely managed to fight down the urge to look around curiously even as he quietly wondered why it seemed like people in Camelot still hadn't gotten used to his presence.
-AGRAVAIN'S CHAMBERS, MEANWHILE-
Agravain stared at the armored figure as she leaned back, having finished giving her brother the report he'd demanded.
He blinked.
Nothing changed.
He blinked again.
His youngest sister's body language remained the same.
He blinked for a third time.
Unfortunately for his blood pressure, Mordred was still just as oblivious as she was insufferably smug at the moment.
Agravain exhaled slowly, taking a moment to collect himself, and Mordred leaned forward, seemingly misunderstanding his actions.
"... Mordred?" Agravain finally began. "Do you remember what we discussed, what you promised, before I allowed you to take your squire away from Camelot for the month?"
"Uh, to make sure I taught him well?" Mordred cocked her head quizzically, not understanding why she was being asked such an obvious question.
After all, based on her own judgement, she was pretty sure they'd done a good job of helping the towns they'd visited during their travels (at least, when compared to the tales she'd been told, and the picture books she'd grown up with).
And as for his horse-riding...
Jaune's brow was furrowed in intense concentration as he tried to hold onto to the warhorse's reins (as opposed to its neck), and quietly prayed that it wouldn't try to buck him off again (as it had been ever since they'd left the castle).
"You need to relax, squire," Mordred chastised him as she rode up next to him, looking him over and quietly picking out the flaws in his form even as she explained: "If your grip is too tight, and your mind too focused on simply riding your horse, it may cost you seconds in drawing your blade, and I know you know how important that can be in combat..."
Jaune took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly as he forced himself to loosen his grip on the length of leather.
Mordred had just begun to nod in approval, before the old horse took the chance to stamp a hoof violently and snort, sensing his rider's inexperience and lack of confidence.
Before Jaune could tighten his grip, however, Mordred quickly intervened, growling at the horse even as she seized the reins from Jaune.
As the horse calmed down, knowing better than to press his luck at that moment, Jaune could only look sheepishly at Mordred as she sighed and remarked: "You know, I was expecting you to be a lot better at handling animals, between your youth on a farm and your training as a Huntsman..."
Jaune laughed awkwardly as he quickly averted his gaze, not knowing how to respond. After all, it wasn't like he could explain that his family's farm hadn't had any animals (since that would have just opened him up to more questioning, and it'd have been hard to describe what a tractor or combine was to people who used oxen and horses to pull carts and carry packs), to say nothing of how the preferred mode of transport for Huntsmen was the Bullhead...
Mordred narrowed her eyes at his laughter, wondering if there was something she was missing, before she shook her head and sighed again.
Nudging him in the side with her elbow to grab his attention, she pulled herself even closer to her squire, but her touch was gentle as she gripped his hands beneath hers, and guided them to the old horse's reins once more.
"Again," she instructed, though it came out far softer than the impatient bark anybody who knew of her would have expected from her, nor would they have expected the small smile hidden behind her helmet as she watched Jaune do his best to follow her instructions.
But then again, she was teaching a friend, someone whom she'd sworn to be a mentor to, even if they had to figure things out together.
... though, judging by the way things were going, he might need to share her horse again when they entered the next village (still a much more dignified fate than getting bucked off his horse in full view of the local peasantry).
Strangely enough, she found that she could live with that.
... well, considering he'd been able to ride that ornery steed she'd picked out for him three weeks into their journey, she could confidently declare him capable of riding just about any regular warhorse in Camelot...
"Besides that," Agravain prompted sharply, bringing her back to the present.
"Um, to ensure his safety?" Mordred answered confusedly, still not seeing the problem.
"Yes," Agravain confirmed in a dry tone even as he looked back at the dictation he'd taken of Mordred's report. Waving a hand back to her account of how their journey had gone, he demanded: "And what would you call that?"
"A safe journey?" Mordred ventured.
"A dozen wolf packs, two rampaging bears, and a group of Pictish bandits raiding the countryside disqualifies the entire endeavor from being "safe", Mordred," Agravain pointed out, unamused.
"Really?" Mordred inquired, genuinely curious.
"Yes," Agravain's tone was clipped as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"But they were just wolves and bears and bandits!" Mordred protested defensively. "It wasn't like I let him fight another demon or dragon..."
"Mordred, I know that your judgement has been skewed by mother's upbringing," Agravain sighed, before shifting to a more understanding tone. "But that doesn't change the fact that wolves, bears, and bandits are dangerous to most people."
"I doubt any Knight of Camelot would fall to such paltry foes, not even Bedivere," Mordred retorted, taking offense at her brother's lack of confidence in her squire.
"But Jaune is not yet a full Knight, Mordred," Agravain pointed out.
"But he's faced far more dangerous foes than that!" Mordred countered. "Remember how we found him? Remember his tale of how he ended up here, with the dragon? Remember his soul magic Aura?"
"And do you not remember how the Addanc almost fell you, whose swordsmanship and natural ability far surpass most humans?" Agravain reminded her. "Do you not remember how his tale ended with his near-death at the hands of the witch and the dragon?"
As Mordred fell silent for a moment, Agravain seized his chance, and placed a hand on Mordred's shoulder as he quickly continued: "And I do remember your squire's magecraft, Mordred. I acknowledge that your squire is stronger than many, and I'm sure that he has only improved under your tutelage. And I can only commend the deeds you have done, the aid you have rendered to the subjects of His Majesty!
"But! What I cannot accept is your faulty judgement, to believe that what you have encountered is in any way acceptable, let alone "safe"! Mordred, as a Knight of the Round Table, you have been selected by the King personally, and with that honor comes expectations, responsibilities! Not to mention that, as a mentor..."
Mordred sighed dejectedly under her helmet, as Agravain's chastisement really began to pick up steam.
It wasn't even the first time she'd gotten this lecture before, though listening to her brother was at least more tolerable than listening to Lancelot going on and on about what ifs and what nots.
After all, what was the big deal? Nobody even got hurt this time, right?
... but at the same time, she'd already admitted to herself that she was just a third-rate knight; if two first-rate knights were giving her what was basically the same talk, there was probably something she needed to learn, wasn't there?
She owed it to both the King she admired and the squire she mentored to be the best knight she could be, and so she forced herself to at least try and concentrate on what Agravain was telling her.
... a few seconds later, she interjected: "Okay, okay, I get it! The situation was unusual and unsafe, and I should have recognized it, right?"
"... that's... not an inaccurate summation..." Agravain allowed, pleased that his youngest sister seemed to have actually internalized his words, even if he doubted that she did realize just how odd the situation truly was (especially the mention of Pictish barbarians that far south).
"Alright, got it, lesson learned," Mordred quickly reassured her brother even as her shoulders slumped in relief that the lecture was finally over. "Next time it happens, I will... uh..."
"..." Agravain pinched the bridge of his nose as Mordred stared at him expectantly, waiting for the answer.
Sadly, though, this was definitely the best he'd ever gotten from her, and so he obliged: "You will send a message back to Camelot informing us of the situation, so that we can make the necessary preparations?"
"Yes, that's right!" Mordred nodded, before prompting further: "... and?"
"..." Agravain shot Mordred a look of exasperation, before sighing: "... just... just keep in mind that humans have a different standard of safety from you, alright? Next time, either of you may not have such a capable travelling companion-"
"What does that mean?" Mordred's demanded, her voice low.
"Jaune won't be your squire forever, Mordred, and your next one may not have such a useful magecraft," Agravain informed her, an eyebrow rising as he wondered where the sudden outburst had come from. "Should you and your hypothetical future squire encounter a similar situation..."
"..." Mordred paused for a moment, before looking away as she quickly answered: "Ah, of course that's what you meant! Right, got it!"
Agravain eyed his sister for a moment, but decided not to push his luck any further.
Instead, as he glanced back at his desk, and the message he'd hidden under piles of parchment, he decided it was time to get to the second reason why he'd summoned Mordred to his office: "Anyway, Mordred... speaking of training... your trainer just sent me a message."
Mordred immediately stiffened up as Agravain retrieved the relevant message, gave it a once-over, and tossed it into the fireplace as he informed her: "She says she'll be visiting Camelot in a few days."
Mordred couldn't help but groan and curse as she slumped into her seat.
Author's Notes: And finally, I stop drowning in work long enough to actually write a chapter... and rewrite it... and rewrite it...
Look, to cut a long story short, I rewrote this 14 times.
Initially, Mordred didn't even feature in this chapter, with the second half instead being a scene between Artoria and Jaune. But that dissatisfied me, so I added a short scene (a few lines at most) between Mordred and Agravain as a throwaway gag. But as I went over what I'd written, I found myself feeling even more dissatisfied at the fact that Jaune's field trip with Mordred only received minimal detailing (mainly being throwaway lines about the overblown rumors actually not being so overblown that were played for laughs), since there was a fair bit of potential for character development there.
So I scrapped everything, tried dedicating a chapter to said field trip... and it sucked, to put it bluntly. Absolutely sucked.
And so, after many rewrites... eh, this is probably the best I can give for this chapter.
Also, once again - Jaune, being from Remnant, probably has a very different idea of what constitutes a "peaceful journey", what with him being from a world mostly overrun by Grimm. And Mordred, being Mordred (i.e. raised by Morgan and mostly growing up on picture books and fairytales), probably doesn't know any better. In contrast, Camelot has stood for about a decade at this point, and the heartlands of the Kingdom have been mostly pacified. The fact that the pair of them have that many random encounters on the road is a sign to Agravain that something's wrong, and the fact that they neither seem to realize it nor the danger it poses to both themselves and others is what would especially frustrate him.
Basically, though, it's the same message she got from Lancelot after fighting the Addanc (think more about your actions), though the focus this time is more on how she reacts to it.
As for why his luck is so absolutely terrible... who knows? Maybe he's just naturally unlucky? Perhaps it has to do with his travelling companion? Or possibly... eh, it doesn't matter yet anyway.
And insert Obligatory Annual "I have a Ko-Fi" Reminder here, followed by the Obligatory "The next chapter will not come anytime soon" Warning.