Chapter 70 - Expectations vs Reality
Jaune hummed to himself as he happily sprinkled a pinch of salt and a handful of wild herbs onto the pieces of wild game he'd been given, before slowly roasting it over the fire, thankful that his pouch of seasonings had, like the Wasteland Survival Guide he'd gotten from Ruby Ironwood, survived the trips and battles of the past day.
Seriously, after going to hell a few times, the prospect of a hot meal and finally being free of that stifling unpowered power armor alone had been more than enough to drive away even the confusion of the events of the past two hours.
Honestly, what was the big deal over the boy being able to draw a sword?
Before he could properly dig in, however, the sight of a lock of golden hair twitching from the door frame caught his attention.
... was that just a unique quirk of the humans of this dimension?
Artoria, for her part, had been exhausted when she'd finally managed to sneak away from the festivities of the banquet (and the piercing eyes of Sir Ector and Sir Kay).
Naturally, the gathered lords and knights had been struck dumb by disbelief as they'd beheld the sight of Young Arthur, Squire of Sir Kay, holding the Sword of Selection in front of the dead giant.
Before she'd been able to react, to correct the misunderstanding and pass the blade back to the one who had actually drawn it and slain the monster, Merlin had declared that the sword had chosen, and Caliburn had vanquished the Beast.
After that, much to Merlin's amusement and the unnamed knight's bemusement, she'd been asked to put Caliburn back into the stone, and repeat the feat.
And then everyone else had tried lifting it, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, and the sword was still functioning as intended, before Artoria had lifted it out once more, just to prove that yes, Caliburn had chosen her.
The rest of the day had then passed in a blur of cheers and backslaps, as the less politically-inclined (or more martially-minded) rejoiced at the fact that the Heir of Uther Pendragon had finally returned, and not just returned, but slain a Beast with the holy sword, proving beyond a doubt that he was worthy.
(As for the more ambitious schemers, they were still bound by their oaths to the former King. At any rate, all they felt they would have to do was simply obey, until the child inevitably failed, at which point they could denounce Caliburn and Merlin, and force Arthur to abdicate.)
Artoria sighed in exhaustion, as she once again made sure no one spotted the feast's guest of honor leaving the banquet hall, before taking a moment to savor the silence, and think back to the events of the day.
She'd been told all her life, after all, that she had to become the Perfect King, because only she could draw the Sword, unite the Lords, and save the Lands.
It had been that thought that had driven her to be ready to throw away her femininity and her humanity, and to learn swordsmanship, the codes of chivalry, the affairs of state, politics, stewardship, and everything that Merlin and Ector had thought necessary for a future King to know.
And yet, when it had been time to draw the sword...
She'd hesitated, and in a moment of weakness called upon someone else who had drawn the sword instead of her.
If not for the fact that she'd seen Caliburn reject all the other hopefuls as they'd tried once more, before allowing her to draw it like it was as light as a feather, she'd have fallen even further into doubt, wondering what it had all been for.
And speaking of the Crimson Knight...
Where was he?
She knew he'd been invited to the feast, as supposedly being the First of her Knights; she'd seen Sir Ector and Sir Kay confront the man just before he'd wandered away from the area!
Before she could contemplate the matter any further, however, a tantalizing smell assailed her senses, and her mouth-watered as she was subconsciously lured away.
It wasn't like she was guilty of the sin of Gluttony, she'd later swear.
But with the lands of the Britons ravaged by war and chaos as they were, even the foods prepared for the Nativity Feast were lacking in palatability.
And even though it was far more than any squire could have ever dreamed of, though, she'd been too nervous and busy entertaining questions to properly partake in the banquet.
Her stomach growled treacherously, aroused by the aroma.
It wasn't her fault, honest!
Even as she made excuses for her actions, and rationalized them as her merely investigating the unfamiliar scent, though, her body still moved, until she'd finally reached the kitchens.
Carefully peeking her head around the corner, she found herself meeting the questioning sapphire orbs of the now-unarmored Crimson Knight, as he quietly looked back at her, food halfway to his mouth.
Artoria blinked, surprised that he'd spotted her.
Jaune blinked, wondering what the boy wanted with him.
Artoria's stomach growled again, as she got another whiff of the food he'd been about to eat.
Jaune couldn't help but chuckle as he held it towards the blushing boy, reminded of Courier Six.
At least this one had a sense of shame.
"Want a piece, kid?" Jaune offered easily.
"Are... are you sure?" Artoria asked reservedly, fighting down the temptation to grab it and dig in. The cooks hadn't served it at the feast, after all, which meant that it was probably a special dish.
"I can always make more." Jaune shrugged, not seeing the big deal.
"Wait, you made this?" Artoria's eyes widened, even as her hands automatically reached out for the pheasant leg.
"Yup." Jaune drawled, watching the kid take a tentative bite from the meat. Then her eyes widened even more, and her green orbs began sparkling, as she began heartily demolishing his cooking.
"So..." Jaune finally began, as the boy fought down a burp. "Uh... got a name?"
"I'm..." Artoria hesitated briefly, before finally coming to a conclusion. She'd sworn to throw away her femininity to become the Perfect King once she'd drawn Caliburn, after all. "You can call me Arthur."
"Nice to meet you, Arthur." Jaune smiled at the youth, holding out a hand. As she tentatively took it, he continued: "Anyway, mind telling me what's going on? Why's everyone acting like you drawing that sword is such a big deal?"
"This is odd." A voice behind them suddenly made them turn. There in the corner stood the white-hooded man from earlier, casually biting into another piece of meat Jaune had been cooking. "The spell should have informed you of what was going on before you agreed to the contract..."
"Merlin?!" Artoria yelped. Had he seen her devouring the knight's food?
"... I'm going to regret this, but what spell? And what contract?" Jaune groaned, the familiar feeling of a premonition rising up within him.
"You were summoned here to be Arthur's familiar, Sir Knight." Merlin explained, before pausing as he tasted the emotions pouring from the Crimson Knight. Resigned acceptance? That was new. "Were you not even offered the chance to deny it?"
"I don't know anything about a summoning or a spell or a contract." Jaune admitted truthfully. "One moment I was fighting that guy in a desert, the next moment, he was punching me into the sky. Not that I'm complaining, though; this beats Hueco Mundo and Hell any day, and it was a lot less violent than what I'm used to."
"Wait, did you just say Hell?" Merlin's eyebrow raised, while Artoria's eyes widened in shock. Why would Caliburn, the Holy Sword of Selection, acknowledge someone who'd gone to hell?
"... long story short, I woke up to find a place being invaded by demons from hell." Jaune shrugged. "So I went to fight them off. Then I got sucked into a portal, and fought my way out."
""...""
Artoria and Merlin exchanged a look, both sharing a single thought.
Just what kind of Heroic Spirit had Artoria summoned, that could treat an invasion from hell with such casualness?!
"So, what did you need a familiar for?" Jaune continued, taking the chance to finally savor his own cooking. "I'm guessing it has something to do with that sword they asked you to draw?"
"The sword that Arthur drew, as you did, is known as the Sword of Selection." Merlin answered. "Whosoever draws that sword from the stone is the rightful king of all the land."
"So, this world chooses kings based on who can pull out a sword? That's a pretty... interesting way of picking a leader..." Jaune murmured, only a hint of sarcasm coloring his tone, before he blinked, realizing something. "Wait, so you're the king?!"
"As of two hours ago, yes. Arthur is the new king." Merlin confirmed, amused by both the knight's reactions and his student's pout.
"Uh... should I be kneeling or something?" Jaune asked Artoria, wondering what the proper polite procedure was for being in the presence of a king.
"Please don't." Artoria's eye twitched. Even now, despite all the preparations that had been made, she still couldn't get used to having gone from unnoticed squire to King of the Britons. Only years of training and the visible hope and relief on the faces of many had allowed her to maintain her composure (along with the fact that the situation had been so serious even Kay hadn't been able to tease her).
Also...
"Besides, Caliburn acknowledged you too, Sir Knight." Artoria added. "After all, you were able to draw the sword even before I was."
"... that sword did?" Jaune replied incredulously. "The same sword that called me a stinky uncultured lowly swine?"
"... excuse me?"
Merlin choked on the air wordlessly, especially when he sensed Caliburn begin to glow faintly inside Artoria's scabbard.
"Also... no offense, but aren't you a bit too young to be a king?" Jaune continued heedlessly. "Are you sure that sword knows what it's doing?"
Artoria's face fell at the unintentional snub by the Crimson Knight, the other individual who'd been selected by the Sword in the Stone.
To his credit, Jaune realized that he'd just put his foot in his mouth, and hastily clarified: "I'm not doubting your capabilities or anything, Arthur; I'm sure you'll be a fine king! But isn't this too much of a burden, to throw on a child?"
"Arthur is of age, and has received tutorage from the advisors of the former King." Merlin assured slowly, in a way that made Artoria wonder where the hell this wise-sounding sage usually was, instead of the pansy womanizer that usually taught her. "But you're right. It is a heavy burden for one so young to shoulder. And that is exactly why you were summoned."
"Me?" Jaune sputtered. Oum, he couldn't imagine his friends' horrified reactions if they ever learned of this!
"I am sure that, compared to you, Sir Knight, I am still young and inexperienced." Artoria conceded, clenching her fist, misunderstanding his disbelief as him being incredulous that someone as young and unworthy as her wanted his advice. "But even so! The Age of Chaos continues! The People of the Land suffer, as each new dawn brings with it another fresh wave of invaders to our shores! The Country needs a King to Unite it, to gather the various Lords and Knights, and drive the Saxons back! I may have only seen fifteen springs, but as the Rightful Heir of the King, how can I ignore the cries of my subjects?!"
"... how can you not take action, no matter what the cost?" Jaune finished, as he looked at her, and saw a young boy, who'd so desperately wanted to be a hero, to help others, that he'd stolen the family sword and run off to become a Huntsman.
"Exactly." Artoria nodded, encouraged by his words. "You do understand, yes?"
"I do..." Jaune confirmed, looking away. "But I'm not the guy you're looking for, Arthur."
"Pardon me?"
"You've got the wrong guy." Jaune repeated, unable to meet Artoria's eyes. He was moved by the boy's words, and he did really want to help... but he had to tell her the truth. This wasn't like Beacon's Initiation; the stakes were just too high. "I'm no King, or Knight, or even much of a hero. I'm just a dumb kid, who took the family sword and ran off in the middle of the night when I was seventeen, without any training or experience, to try and learn how to fight monsters.
"You need someone else, someone better, than me." Jaune finally finished, getting up. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Before he could leave the room, however, Artoria spoke up: "You're wrong."
"I'm sorry?" Jaune turned around.
"I heard your words, on what it meant to be a true leader, during your duel." Artoria repeated firmly, choosing to have faith in Merlin's spell, and the choice that Caliburn, the Symbol of her Authority, had made. "To put your followers ahead of yourself, to strive for perfection not for your sake, but for the sake of those that rely on you. When you first appeared, your priority was to guard us from the Beast. And now you tell me that you hold such wisdom, and left your home to protect others, despite a late start?"
"..." Jaune found himself stunned speechless, as Artoria locked gazes with him, and her piercing green eyes searched his soul.
"I apologize for the actions of my mentor and I, in summoning you without your consent. But I do not believe Caliburn chose wrong, Sir Knight." Artoria declared, nodding in approval as she found what she was looking for. "In the name of my Country and my People, I beseech you; will you not lend me your aid?"
"... well, its not like I wasn't going to help..." Jaune looked away first, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. After all, as Yang had said, no matter what world it was, as long as there were people who still needed help, he would do what he could. "Just... just don't expect too much from me, alright?"
"...!" Artoria's eyes sparkled, as she heard his words. "Thank you, Sir Knight!"
"Please, just call me Jaune." Jaune interjected, feeling weird that someone not that much younger than him was calling him "sir". "I'm not that much older than you, and I never finished my training."
"Jaune..." Artoria tried it, before nodding in satisfaction. "By the way... you mentioned you started when you were seventeen, correct? How old are you now?"
"I... think I turned eighteen a few months ago?" Jaune shrugged. "It's been a while since I've seen a proper calendar, so I can't be too sure, though..."
Artoria's eyes almost boggled out of their sockets.
The Beast-Slayer in front of her had only had a year's worth of training?
Merlin, for his part, hummed as he processed the scene in front of him. He'd been content to let Artoria convince her new familiar of the righteousness of her cause, always having been one who preferred to watch things play out, and knowing that Artoria had a level of charisma that eclipsed most people's. And though he didn't know of any legends involving a "Jaune", he knew it was possible that his heroic deeds happened in the future.
But he did have some questions, though, and he cut into their conversation: "Is there a reason you haven't seen a calendar in a while?"
Jaune paused for a moment, wondering how best to explain his situation.
These people had magic and the means to pluck him out of a different world, right?
Maybe the truth wouldn't be so unbelievable after all...
"Long story short, I've died a few times." Jaune began. "It all started when the place I was training at was attacked by a dragon, a witch, and a horde of nightmarish creatures..."
Author's Note: I hate dialogue so much...
Yes, I'm aware that King Arthur is the Perfect King. But this Artoria isn't King Arthur yet. This Artoria just went from "unnoticed squire of some young and promising knight" to "King of the Britons and Slayer of the One-Armed Giant" in less than two hours. And speaking from experience... no matter how much you train, no matter how prepared you think you are... you'll only ever know what you're truly capable of, when reality crashes down upon you.
Also, this is probably the first time that Jaune's been told straight up just what was expected of him. He was more like a companion in Skyrim and DOOM as shit hit the fan, and in the Wastelands his main goal was merely to help his friends first and foremost. But here? He's explicitly informed that he's been summoned to give advice on how to be a King... so naturally his self-deprecation acts up. He's a good fighter now, sure, but since when does he have any experience with nation-building?
Hmm? House? The Mojave? I have no idea what you're talking about. Next you'll be saying I gave him a Wasteland Survival Guide and had him discuss agriculture with the Boomers (the self-sufficient and well-armed community in the middle of a radioactive desert), or medicine and water purification in the Capital Wasteland...
And Merlin... yes, I've been informed that Merlin is a massive troll. At the same time, though, the situation's a bit too serious for me to really play those aspects up right now. Especially when he finds out that the boy they summoned keeps dying and popping up in time to stop catastrophes that threaten the worlds... I figure a few curse words for Alaya and Zelretch would be in mind.
