It has been almost two weeks now since we successfully resolved the Third Singularity.

The time had passed pleasantly. In addition to our date and the snow day, Mordred and I had spent plenty of time hanging out without the risk of death or attack, which was what we normally had to worry about on deployment.

However, the last few days had seen me focusing more on searching and scouring all of Chaldea's resources on hand to discover the possible identity of this apparent 'Mastermind' behind the seven singularities. I could now safely say that I could understand why the good doc was having such trouble getting to bed now.

I had been doing some research on Solomon, but to my frustration I had found nothing. Yesterday, in fact, I had been up for almost the entire day, until Mordred swatted me on the back of my head and literally dragged me into bed.

After chiding me for being an overworking dumbass, my knight told me that tomorrow we were going to do some training. Any training, really, just as long as it was something that would distract me from "becoming Doctor Roman 2.0".

And so here we were, Mordred and I.

"Do we have to do this, Jacob?"

"Do you want to not overcome your trepidation when it comes to being on water and ships and all?" I replied, avoiding the mistake of suggesting that Mordred was scared of drowning. Regardless of whether it was accurate or not (which it was), it would have only riled up my precious Mordred.

The knight in question sighed angrily, crossing her arms and briefly pouting at me. I raised an eyebrow in a silent response, not flinching. A stare-off thus ensued for a few minutes, before finally with a soft growl, Mordred looked away. "Fine," she muttered.

We were currently standing alone in Chaldea's swimming pool area. It wasn't quite the kind of pool one used for relaxation, naturally, though there was a (relatively speaking by Chaldean terms) smaller, secondary pool that could adequality serve that purpose. The main pool was more of the Olympic style: ten long lanes of water, perfect for doing laps in.

The larger pool would be used not to help us exercise, though, but for me to teach Mordred at least the basics of swimming and floating. While it was unlikely that we would encounter another situation like the Third Singularity regarding the terrain, it was clear that didn't mean Mordred's inability to truly swim was insignificant.

First, and more importantly in my opinion, I felt that I had an obligation, a duty, to look out for my partner and lover. While unlikely, I didn't want to risk the chance of her somehow drowning and knowing that I could have prevented it.

"We won't do anything crazy or excessive. I don't expect nor plan on turning you into an avid swimmer, Mordred. That's something for you and only you to decide." My words had Mordred relax a little more, and her hands dropped from being across under her breasts. The Knight of Rebellion was wearing a surprisingly conservative piece of swimwear. At least, when compared to her under-armor and day-to-day preferential clothing, that was.

Mordred wore a red one-piece swimsuit, with golden filigree patterns accenting it. The swimwear left her muscular and toned arms and legs exposed. Of course, it wouldn't be a Mordred outfit if it wasn't form-fitting. It accentuated her muscular physic without reaching the level of being 'scandalous'.

It looked good on her, but for the life of me, I didn't know why she was occasionally fidgeting with it. Some sort of self-confidence issues, perhaps, but over what?

As much desired to hear that answers I may felt, I knew better than to push. I shook my head, clearing my throat and regaining Mordred's focus, as well as my own. I gestured at the shallow end of the smaller pool. One day, we would work on using the full-sized pool, but for now, I wanted to show Mordred how to tread water and a few other rudimentary swimming techniques.

"Now, as we don't have a lot of time, let's start with the basics…." I quickly focused on the task at hand, wanting to make the most out of today's lesson within reason.

It was only a few more days now until our next deployment, after all.

Jeanne felt that her eyes were surely the size of dinner plates by this point. She could certainly feel the burning in her cheeks and ears, and it wasn't just from bashfulness.

This was what Marie considered to be fine literature? Les Liaisons Dangereuses? Granted, maybe it should have been as shocking to her as it was, considering how close the Ruler was with the Flower of Versailles, but still!

Not for the first time was she grateful that the only other occupant currently using Chaldea's impressive library was one of the newer Servants that had been summoned once Da Vinci had declared the problems plaguing the previous summoning attempts resolved. The infamous femme fatal of Greek mythology, Medusa.

The Rider currently was at the far end of the designated reading area. The blindfold that she had originally worn when summoned was replaced with reading glasses. Her mystic eyes that had defined her tale sealed with an archaic rune on her forehead colored a bright red.

Quiet and seemingly aloof, Medusa was ironically the least noticeable as the youngest sister of the three gorgons. Stheno and Euryale had also been summoned, and the two seemed virtually inseparable. Well, unless it was anything involving Asterios.

Jeanne had been thrilled to see that the Greek Berserker had been reunited with his friend (and perhaps crush?).

Going back to the matter regarding the Rider across the room from her, Jeanne had become, if not friends, then colleagues, with the pink-haired Rider. Medusa often came here to escape from the apparently-tormenting attention of Stheno and Euryale. Aside from sharing mutual literature interest and all, though, Jeanne wasn't too close to Ritsuka's newest Rider.

Shaking her head again, the gaze of the Maid of Orléans swiftly returned to the yellowed pages of the book she had retrieved, becoming engrossed once more in the words printed on the paper.

For a time I considered that angelic face; then, my glance wandering over her person, I amused myself imagining the shapes and contours beneath her light but all too reticent garment.

Her pace of breathing picked up, and she couldn't help but imagine herself in the position of the young maiden being discussed now in the book. In her mind's eye, Sieg stood over her, though with surely a more gentle but hungry look in his eyes. She instinctively shivered, and to her mild confusion, saw that her knees were rubbing up against one another.

So focused was she that the Maid of Orléans didn't recognize the sound of a pair of light footsteps approaching her.

"Jeanne?"

"It's not what you think!" Jeanne said, almost screeching the words, in fact. It wasn't the voice of Medusa, or even Marie who was addressing her. The two aforementioned were the only Servants Jeanne was even remotely comfortable with knowing about the…book…that she was holding. She whirled around to face the owner of the voice that had just addressed her.

"So, are you saying that you are not sitting in a library, reading a book?" King Arthur, or rather Artoria, as the King of Knights had asked Jeanne to refer to her as, asked quizzically. Jeanne coughed awkwardly, noticing the combination of a glare and smirk that Medusa was sending her way. No doubt the former was for the sudden loud noise, while the latter didn't really need any explanation in this case.

"Well, I…that is…yes, actually, that's exactly what I'm doing!" Jeanne said, ending it with a laugh that sounded awkward even to the now-mortified and red-cheeked Ruler. Artoria's eyebrows arched upwards ever so slightly (almost exactly like Mordred would do!), indicating that the King of Knights was now certainly suspicious of her. Ack! Better change the topic! "So, is there something that you wanted, Arty?" Artoria raised an eyebrow at the affectionate nickname but didn't protest about it like she had when Jeanne had first used it for the King of Knights. Instead, she gave a single, solemn nod, causing Jeanne to sigh internally.

She, along with a few other Servants and Ritsuka, had been trying to get Artoria to open up more. Thankfully, the blonde Saber didn't seem opposed any to the idea, and indeed was trying. However, there were moments where the King of Knights would revert back into her default, expressionless and emotionless mask that she had when Artoria dismissed Mordred's greeting. Apparently, this was another one of those moments.

"There's a matter of which I would greatly appreciate getting the chance to discuss it with you in private, Jeanne." Ah, a personal matter, it seems. Well, having become a fast friend to the father of one of her closest friends, the Maid of Orléans saw no reason to be so churlish as to refuse such a simple request.

Jeanne turned to Medusa, who had yet to return to reading her own book. "Medusa, do you mind taking care of putting away my book?" She asked the Greek Rider as nonchalantly as she could. Heaven's forbid should someone walk in, notice that she had left the book in the place where someone might have seen her sitting, and realize everything! Poor Gilles would have another full mental breakdown, at the very least.

"Sure. Go now, please. I wish to resume reading," Medusa said in a bland monotone. Jeanne nodded, and Artoria quickly followed suit, though with also adding a soft "Rider", to which Medusa responded with "Saber".

As Artoria and Jeanne headed over towards the room of the former, Jeanne couldn't help but wonder which would happen first: all of the Servants from Artoria's standard Holy Grail War showing up first, or the rest of the remaining Servants of Red and Black from the Greater Holy Grail War.

The brief trip between the library and Artoria's room was done quietly. Artoria opened the door, and gestured for Jeanne to step on in, which the French blonde did so with a gentle smile.

"I see you haven't done much decorating," the Maid of Orléans commented. It wasn't the first time she had been invited into the sleeping chambers of the King of Knights, but it still looked like it had the first time Jeanne had entered the room.

The only noticeable difference this time was the adorable lion plushy that sat atop the nightstand against Artoria's bed. Jeanne recognized at least where it had come from: one of the resulting summons during Jacob's failed attempt the day after they had returned to Chaldea. She wanted to ask her fellow blonde what the story was about it, but she didn't. Artoria wasn't that ready just yet to be bombarded with questions about her own Holy Grail War.

"Excess is one of our greatest enemies, Jeanne," Artoria said, and Jeanne couldn't help but roll her eyes slightly once the Saber wasn't looking at her. And people said she could be simple and minimalistic in tastes! "That's not what I wish to discuss with you, though."

And as quickly as it had started, the bout of small talk was over. Jeanne nodded though, sitting down at the offered chair that was placed at the standard and relatively-unused desk nearby.

"So, what do you wish to speak about, Arty?" Jeanne asked with a genial smile. Her fellow blonde did hesitate, however, and Jeanne felt her smile falter ever so slightly. Well, so much for it being something simple but embarrassing, it seems.

"You are close with Mordred." It was a statement, not a question. Delivered bluntly in the way that few could match Artoria with. Jeanne nodded slightly.

"Yes. At least, I think so. As close as anyone can currently get to her, unless you're Jacob, that is," Jeanne added that last part in a bit awkwardly, trying and failing to lighten the suddenly intense atmosphere that was now in the room. Artoria nodded, and Jeanne could see that the former king was chewing on the inside of her right cheek nervously. "Has she done something wrong?" Jeanne asked, not wanting to let the silence stretch on.

While she had been friends with Mordred longer, unlike her dear Master, Jeanne had been more welcoming of Artoria, despite her initial slip-up, and had become one of the Saber's friends. As such, she dearly wished that somehow, someday, Mordred and Artoria would somehow finally pull their heads out of their hindquarters and reconcile.

"No. We've not interacted since I…since I…"

"Since when you first arrived and unintentionally dismissed Mordred again and all?" Jeanne said a bit bluntly. Artoria's cheeks flushed to the palest shade of red that Jeanne had ever seen on a person's cheeks, and Ritsuka's Saber coughed in confirmation.

"Yes. Since that. As you know, Jacob told me that I needed to decide once and for all how I viewed the status of Mordred regarding my relationship with her." Jeanne nodded silently. That wasn't exactly much of a secret in Chaldea, truth be told. Those who weren't nearby, and had accidentally overheard Jacob's yelling had swiftly learned from those who had.

"Have you finally made a choice, then, Arty?" Jeanne asked Artoria encouragingly. There was another moment of brief hesitation, but the King of Knights finally nodded.

"Yes, I have." Jeanne waited a few more minutes, but to her frustration, Artoria didn't immediately respond.

"Well? What is it?"

"I have decided that…that I wish to try and reconnect with my son."

Even though Jeanne had been dearly hoping to hear those words, they still somehow managed to stun her. Or rather, the fact that finally, Artoria referred to Mordred as her child, as opposed to "Sir Mordred" or even just "Mordred". The Maid of Orléans didn't even bother to hide the wide smile Artoria's words had elicited.

"That's great news, Arty!" Jeanne leaned forward in excitement, her eyes bearing into the teal ones of Artoria. "So, how do you plan on going about it?"

"…." Jeanne's enthusiasm was somewhat tempered once she realized that Artoria didn't actually have a plan. The Ruler leaned backwards with a soft sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"I see. So, what you're telling me is that you don't have a plan? Not even a vague idea?" Jeanne asked, trying but failing to hide the hint of incredulity in her voice. In response, Artoria's cheeks flushed a little more.

"That is correct," Artoria admitted softly. Her eyes darted to the side as she also turned her head, a far-off look on her face. "Being king did not exactly provide me with how to go about with personal reconciliations. Leaving Mordred and the resulting disaster aside, the falling out I had with Tristan and his subsequent departure is evidence enough."

Jeanne's mild frustration quickly melted away, and in its place sympathy grew. While not quite the same, it was safe to say that Jeanne now understood just how difficult it could be with dealing in matters where personal emotions were involved.

"Have you thought of what to say to Mordred?" Jeanne asked, and Artoria frowned softly before shaking her head a singular time.

"No. I do not know what words I should say."

"Well, most people would say sorry within the first few minutes," Jeanne began softly. "However, the issues between you and Mordred are…complicated, to say the least. In all honesty, just saying sorry might make matters worse."

"I did reach that conclusion earlier. The last thing I desire is to drive Mordred into another state of rage. The Battle of Camlann was my doing, regardless of it being unintentional or not. I will not bring that same ruin to Chaldea." Jeanne's jaw hung open ever so slightly. Even now, Artoria's natural intensity her words carried could still catch her off-guard.

"Well, that is something we all would prefer," Jeanne replied. "A lot of us are really happy with the overall state of things here in these halls."

"I've noticed. Mordred seems to be even happier than she was in Camelot."

"You've been spying on her?" Artoria hesitated at the gently delivered accusation, lowering her head slightly with a guilty look appearing in her eyes.

"Yes."

"I see. You are correct. Mordred is happy here. She's grown as a person. When I first met her, in the Greater Holy Grail War that I was assigned to adjudicate, Mordred gave me the impression of being a violent, self-focused and arrogant knight who was unashamed of turning situations to the advantage of both her Master and herself. However, she did help us. On multiple occasions during the struggle against the rest of the Faction of Red." Jeanne paused for a moment, a nostalgic smile appearing.

"I was startled to see how different she was in Orléans. Still a bit immature, but more focused. The past few months, I have only seen her grow more and more as a person, oftentimes without any help from her fellow Servants, or even Jacob." She leveled an intense stare at the father of her friend. "I won't let you ruin that for her, Arty. Don't do something that makes me choose between you and Mordred."

For a few minutes, a silent standoff ensued between the British and French Servants. Jeanne's eyes held a steely determination in them, while Artoria's looked like they were carved from stone, unblinking and expressionless.

Finally, though, it ended with Artoria blinking and nodding slowly. "I do not wish for that to happen. You have my word, and on the honor of the crown I once wore."

"Good," Jeanne said, and with that, the tense atmosphere that had appeared was dismissed just as quickly. "So, I assume you'd like to run through some scenarios where I pretend to be Mordred, and we see what might work?"

"That…is a bit unorthodox," Artoria started, clearly hesitant. Then, she breathed in heavily, closing her eyes before exhaling. When she opened them, Jeanne was delighted to see acceptance in them. "However, it can't hurt to try."

"Good! Have a seat and we'll get started!" Jeanne said with an encouraging gesture. As Artoria settled in, Jeanne had an idle thought suddenly enter her mind.

"I wonder what Mordred's up to…"

Mordred stepped out of the bathroom that she shared with Jacob, sighing silently in relief. The chemical smell of the pool water had been bothering her. Mildly, though, mind you! But, it was still just enough to bring back to the surface some less than pleasant memories, and for once, it weren't ones involving Mother or the Battle of Camlann.

Fucking Assassin of Red…

She shook her head, her ponytail slightly damp still and so lightly tapping the back of her neck. Thank god that dumbass bitch hadn't shown her ugly mug around here. Pah, she didn't deserve to be here if you asked the Knight of Rebellion.

Not after having poisoned Mordred. Especially not after what she did to her last Master. The closest thing she could consider as having an actual father. Mordred lost him. She'd be damned if that would happen with Jacob.

With another shake of her head and a silent growl, Mordred chased away those morbid thoughts. While the blonde knight had been enjoying the 'vacation' with her partner, the last day or two had seen a subtle shift in her emotions.

Mordred wasn't sure why, but she couldn't help but feel a sustained feeling best described as ominous or foreboding. Maybe it was the words of Medea Lily and Doctor Roman coming back? Maybe, but why was it bothering her so much? She had faced plenty of challenges before, and come out on top!

"Have a nice shower?" Her partner asked, leaning back in his chair. Jacob had his laptop out, and some sort of program was up with lines of text. Ah, he was taking some more notes about his observations regarding the last three singularities again. At least he wasn't as obsessed as Doctor Roman seemed to have become over the matter.

"Yeah. Your turn now," Mordred said in a bored tone to mask the yawn threatening to escape past her lips. Today's exercise had been a bit strenuous, and it was late. She wanted to get to bed. Jacob, bless his heart, seemed to pick up the subtle message there, for he saved what he was working on before proceeding to power down his device.

Once that was finished, Mordred watched as Jacob got up and grabbed his nightwear. "I shouldn't be too long," he told her before entering the bathroom and closing the door. Mordred waited until she heard him lock the door before sauntering over to their shared bed. With her usual grace, she launched herself onto her side, quickly settling in. She linked her hands together and rested the back of her head on the open palms, her eyes fixed on the ceiling overhead.

She still felt a bit self-conscious about the swimsuit Isabella had made for her. It sounded ironic, considering what her preferred clothing style was, but she had felt more naked than her under armor, in a way. It had made her feel self-conscious about her body for the first time ever.

No, wait, the second time. The first time was when that blonde, pathetic, asshole excuse of a Saber had insulted her in their first encounter. Mordred had wanted to kill him then and there. No one dissed Mordred. At least, not without dying brutally.

This was slightly different, however. The worst part? She could figure out why. Was it because Jacob had become the person she was most intimate with? It had to be. She never gave a damn about her body or her muscles or anything like that when she was alive, after all.

What if Jacob secretly thought she was relatively unattractive?

Almost as quickly as it had appeared, Mordred brutally and mercilessly throttled that singular though into oblivion. Jacob was not that kind of person. His own actions proved that his words about refusing to be shallow and judge the value of people merely on their appearance were true.

But the other, more feminine Servants seemed to have more….Mordred paused, shaking her head slightly. No, she wouldn't use that word. Bah, she was being an idiot.

Thankfully, the door opened a few moments later. True to his word, Jacob hadn't taken too long, but she could tell that he had still done a thorough job washing his body. "Had a nice shower?" Mordred asked, parroting his earlier words. He flashed her a lopsided smirk, before nodding as he turned off the overhead light, leaving only the lamp on his side of the bed as the sole source of illumination in their room.

"Yeah. Started to run out of hot water towards the end of my shower, though," Jacob said lazily as he walked over. Mordred snickered, knowing he wasn't actually upset of reprimanding her.

"Hey, you let someone who never got a chance to use showers and warm baths on a consistent basis go first, better be prepared for them to damn well make the most of it!"

Jacob shook his head as he lifted the covers and slid under them. Their clothed legs rubbed up against one another as her lover took a few moments to put himself into a more comfortable position before replying.

"I know. Why do you think I let you go first every night?"

"Because I could dropkick you across the facility if I wanted to?" She asked without any heat. Mordred knew that he had been on the verge of pulling one of those stupidly endearing sappy lines of his, somehow, and wanted to cut it off. Otherwise, they'd end up in a verbal back-and-forth for several hours!

"Well, there's that too," Jacob said with a light huff, rolling his shoulders slightly as he submitted to defeat. "It's been a nice few weeks, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. Can't say I'm not missing seeing actual fighting, though."

"You wouldn't be you if that was the case, Mordred." The Knight of Rebellion merely smirked at him as she chuckled in victory. Jacob reached out and turned off the lamp before rolling onto his side to face her. "I'll see you in the morning, my knight," he added softly, using his pet-name for her. Then he leaned forward, and delivered a gentle and chaste kiss to her lips.

An action she was more than happy to reciprocate in the protective privacy of their room. She leaned backwards, wrapping her arms and legs around him like she normally did as both laid back on their pillows.

"Good night, my idiot princess," Mordred said affectionately, and she saw Jacob's lips quirk up in that small and adorable smile of his as he closed his eyes. Mordred waited a few minutes, listening to his breathing slowing down as he fell asleep, before closing her own eyes. Just before she too fell asleep, the knight had one last thought flashed across her mind.

No matter what the next deployment might bring, so long as she and Jacob were together, they would come out victorious and alright.

Da Vinci stared at the screen, feeling utterly aghast.

"This is impossible!" Declared the Caster. "It's just not possible. And yet, without a doubt, that is 'me'." She frowned, leaning in closer to the screen. She was alone in her workshop, having finished double-checking the information that Romani had relayed to her regarding what he had thus far discovered about both the Demon Pillars and the upcoming deployment to the Fourth Singularity.

She had been about to turn in for the night when she noticed a flashing light on a small device that she had secretly built shortly after being summoned at Chaldea all those years ago. The purpose of the device was quite simple, actually. It searched for any counterfeit attempts at her artwork that were being passed off as the originals, like the Mona Lisa. Some might comment on it somehow being rather vain of her, but as a self-respecting inventor and overall genius, this kind of copycatting was unacceptable.

"This isn't 'me', and yet it is," Da Vinci mused, her anger abating for the moment, thus allowing for reasoning to take back control. She rubbed her chin as she leaned in closer, focusing more now on the finer details of the counterfeit picture of the Mona Lisa. "The skill is not all there, but the passion certainly is. I'm actually a little put off by this passion…"

She stood up, and the Caster began pacing around her room, deep in thought as she continued addressing the empty room. "The passion on that canvas…it's like wearing layers of coats in the summer, with the heat on full blast, and eating hot udon all at the same time! How do I know, you might ask?!" The Caster suddenly said, skidding to a halt and instinctively adopting on of her favorite theatrical poses. "That's because I've always been a perver…ahem, passionate! I'm always passionate." She could have sworn there was a cricket.

"Thank goodness Romani wasn't here to hear that stumble," Da Vinci said, cupping her head and shaking it slightly before returning to the topic at hand. Speaking aloud, even in an empty room, was a way to help her constantly-active mind focus on what needed to be prioritized on first. "Anyway, back on topic."

Da Vinci stomped over to the monitor, and angrily jabbed her right index finger at the counterfeit image angrily. "Curse you! Who would do something so blasphemous? I can't just sit around and let this be. At this rate, Romani will lecture me…I mean…no, I'll talk to him in the morning. Yes, this is a major problem indeed. A problem that could further destabilize the situation regarding the Foundations of Humanity and cause a further collapse. That would mean that we would have eight singularities to deal with instead of seven!"

Original Endnotes: And done! Lots of non-action drama in here! The book Jeanne was reading that was recommended by Marie is an actual book, that the real-life Marie Antoinette owned a copy of. Just an interesting little tidbit of information. Also, Artoria, finally realizing what she wants! It can only go uphill for her now, huh? Also, man, I can't wait for Mordred and Semiramis to 're-unite'. Going to certainly be a thing to read, alright!

Regarding Mordred having self-imaging issue, I hope I didn't make it seem like I'm pushing the idea that Mordred wants to be feminine. That's not my intent. I view Mordred as being the textbook definition of a tomboy, at least in this story and headcanon, ectera. Rather, I'm focusing on the fact that our beloved Knight of Rebellion has never been in a relationship before, and now having seen some exposure, feels...inadequate. Which is bullshit. You should be the person you want to be. Whether you're straight, gay, non-binary, or transgender, you all are beautiful and deserve to be appreciated. That's my belief, and I'll hold it to the day I die.

Now that's out of the way, in all seriousness, was this an enjoyable chapter? Now, for the question(s) of the chapter! First up: For FGO players, what are your thoughts on the event and Grey? Second question: What are some of your favorite summer activities?

Next chapter is going to be mission prep time, so I hope you are ready to see Jalter and her pals soon! Once again, thanks for all the love and support! Feel free to tell me what you thought, and I hope you enjoyed it! Have a wonderful weekend, and see you on Tuesday/Wednesday!

Updated Endnotes 07/16/22: As always, the fully caught up version of The Will to Fight can be found on Ao3 if you want to skip the wait. There it is updated every four days. Hope you enjoyed the update, and see you all around next time :)