Chapter 8 - Arduous Aftermath
"Stupid, stuck-up, nagging..." Mordred grumbled under her breath even as she sulkily swept up the debris that littered the training field.
"Well... to be fair... Sir Agravain did have a point..." Jaune defended with a strained smile even as he continued shoveling soil into a nearby crater, grateful to Sir Agravain for intervening just before his Aura had finally run out (even if he had stuck him with clean-up duty).
"Hey, whose side are you on?!" Mordred immediately stopped her steady stream of insults in favor of glaring at her squire.
"Nobody's!" Jaune immediately answered, raising his hands placatingly as he felt Mordred's glare intensify on him. "I'm just saying, we did probably go a little bit overboard..."
"Overboard? This?!" Mordred thundered, before turning back to the grounds. "We were just getting started! Br- Agravain needs to spend less time with his scrolls and more time with his swords, if you ask me..."
Jaune could feel his entire body aching as he followed Mordred's gaze, and for a moment he couldn't help but wonder if he'd made the right decision by accepting Lancelot's offer (as opposed to, say, running for the hills screaming).
After all, even Nora Valkyrie's warm-ups hadn't been that intense...
"... this... is normal, right?" Mordred couldn't help but ask unconfidently as the silence stretched on, and she mentally compared the damages to the training session Mother had forced her to go through.
Sure, even she knew her mother hadn't bothered with meaningless concepts like mercy, moderation, or restraint, but at the same time they hadn't even broken down any walls!
"..." Jaune sucked in a quick breath through his teeth as he gave the grounds another once-over, and quietly wondered if a Dust missile could have caused as much damage as their "spar".
... but then again...
"... it's... not the worst I've seen..." Jaune finally reassured Mordred, technically telling truth.
After all, at least they hadn't collapsed any pillars, broken any ceilings, or caused any whirlwinds with their fight.
"Though we should have probably spared a thought for anyone else who wanted to use it..." Jaune quickly added as he filled in another crater, not wanting Sir Mordred to take that as a sign that their future sessions should be just as intense.
"Tch." Mordred clicked her tongue in irritation, remembering Agravain's earlier lecture. As she recalled the numerous foes the Perfect King and his Knights had triumphed over, she couldn't help but rant: "If you ask me, Agravain's spent too long administrating Camelot, and needs a good adventure! After all, as your mentor I'm supposed to be preparing you to be a Knight, not coddling you!"
"C-coddling?" Jaune couldn't help but choke out incredulously, wondering which part of that had been a coddling.
"That's right." Mordred nodded smugly, before repeating an impressive line from a book she'd read: "Our foes have no mercy to spare; how can I prepare you to face them by showing you any?"
"..." Jaune's arms paused as he chewed on Sir Mordred's words. It sounded like something Glynda Goodwitch had told them at the start of the year, and it was true that the Grimm were mindlessly aggressive (if one was lucky), to say nothing of the White Fang, or that student from Haven who'd killed Ozpin.
But at the same time...
"What?" Mordred glanced at him uneasily as the silence stretched on to awkward levels. "Did I say something weird?"
"Uh, no, that's not it." Jaune quickly shook his head and waved his hands placatingly, though he couldn't help but remember how he'd been taught. "I mean... I guess it makes sense..."
"It does, right?" Mordred nodded smugly.
"It's just that..." Jaune continued on, as memories of his time in Beacon reared their head, especially the ones involving secret nighttime rendezvous on a quiet rooftop with a green-eyed redhead. "... while I don't think I was coddled, I've never been pushed that hard during training before..."
"Well, welcome to the Knights of the Round Table." Mordred crowed, before clapping him on the back and reassuring him: "Besides, I'm sure you can take it! After all, you didn't do too bad of a job just now!"
"Really?" Jaune wondered out loud, remembering how it'd been all he could do just to survive.
"Well, you could probably do with being more aggressive..." Mordred conceded with a shrug, recalling how her first training session had felt like a game of catch. Then she grinned at him under her helmet, and encouraged him: "But that was just your first training session as a Knight of the Round Table! You've got plenty of time to catch up!"
Jaune couldn't help but gulp as his body began aching in sympathy, but he forced a grin on his face as he replied: "I can't wait."
"That's the spirit, squire!" Mordred enthusiastically answered, and for a moment, Jaune found his smile not quite so forced. "You'll be up to snuff in no time at all!"
He couldn't help himself; as harsh as Sir Mordred's training may have been, the man possessed an energy that was almost infectious.
Then he looked back at the shovel in his hand, and he quickly reminded Mordred: "Though, maybe we should make sure our next training sessions are approved by Sir Agravain..."
"Oh, come on!" Mordred immediately deflated, and she pouted at Jaune under her helmet as she once again grumbled: "Who does he think I'm training, Bedivere?! I swear, next time Saxons invade, I'll make sure to tell Mo- his mother that he's getting soft."
"... are the Saxons really that bad?" Jaune quietly inquired, reflecting that he'd heard more flattering things about the Grimm. "I mean, you've talked about them a few times, and you said the King and most of the Knights were out dealing with another invasion of them, but..."
"... well, I haven't actually fought them before..." Mordred reluctantly admitted, before shaking her head. After all, Mother had drilled the tales of King Arthur and his legendary Knights into her in her youth, if only to emphasize just how much stronger she needed to be if she were to usurp the King of Knights and take the throne (why Morgan had been so obsessed with her taking the throne was still beyond her, and even if Mordred had been interested in fulfilling that particular destiny, her mother was hardly the most welcoming of questions), and she quickly scrambled to defend her dignity in front of her squire: "But it doesn't matter. Even if they aren't, we're expected to inhuman foes! Remember the Addanc? And the King and Gawain had to face down the White Dragon by themselves, during the Reclamation of Londinium!"
"Oh, the King's fought a dragon too?" Jaune cocked his head in surprise, wondering if that was why they'd believed his story about the dragon so easily.
"Right in that very castle, in fact!" Mordred gushed, using her broom to point back to Camelot. "The city of Camelot used to be the Imperial city of Londinium, before it fell into ruin when the Empire collapsed! When the Usurper King Vortigern summoned the Saxons to Britain and killed the previous High King, he turned the city into his stronghold, and it was only after Arthur slew him with the holy lance Rhongomyniad that he was finally crowned the High King of the Britons!"
"... so, Vortigern had a pet dragon?" Jaune wondered if he'd missed something, unable to see where the White Dragon fit into the story.
"Oh, no, Vortigern turned into a dragon!" Mordred corrected him with a grin. "And according to Gawain, he destroyed the castle just by growing in size! Can you imagine that?!"
"..." Jaune looked up at the castle and gulped quietly as he mentally compared it to the Grimm Dragon he'd fought (barely survived).
"God, I wish I could have been there..." Mordred sighed wistfully, before noticing her squire's expression. Clapping him on the back again, she snorted: "What's up with that reaction?! You've faced the Addanc and a dragon already!"
Jaune merely responded by rolling his eyes at his mentor, though his lips twitched slightly at Sir Mordred's antics. While he'd only known the Knight for a few days (and he'd only been in this new land for about a week), he felt relatively confident that he had enough of a grasp of Sir Mordred's character to know that Mordred was being genuinely earnest and well-meaning with his questions.
Though, like Ruby, he could have probably learned how to phrase his words a bit more carefully...
... then again, considering this was a different world, it was also entirely possible that Mordred's way of speaking was normal. After all, Jaune had only really talked to him, Gareth, and Lancelot, and he'd never exactly been the most skilled at social interactions on Remnant anyway...
Jaune sighed and shook his head as the topic grew far more complicated than he was really willing to consider. Interacting with other people his age had already been hard enough in Beacon; considering the intricacies of communicating with people from a completely different time and place, with a different lifestyle and culture, was utterly beyond him. Looking back at Sir Mordred, he began to retort, before a rumbling sound filled the air between them.
"..."
"..."
"..." Jaune fought to keep his face from spontaneously combusting as his stomach reminded him he hadn't eaten since the day before.
-ONE RUSHED CLEAN-UP LATER-
"..." Jaune's face was stiff as he looked around the packed dining hall for a place to sit and did his best to ignore the stares being levelled his way.
Seriously, it was already bad enough that half of Camelot had seen him getting his ass handed to him by Sir Mordred before they'd gotten lectured by Sir Agravain; he didn't want to embarrass himself (or Sir Lancelot, Gareth, and Sir Mordred by extension) any further by being making it obvious just how socially awkward he was as well!
As the murmuring and gazes around him slowly intensified, however, Jaune couldn't help but fix his gaze upon the meaty gruel he'd been given even as he tried to block it all out and get to the least-crowded corner of the room as quickly as was socially acceptable.
As he stared at the stew in his hands, however, and the smell hit his nose, he found himself torn between salivating and gagging.
On one hand, he could easily make something more delicious than... whatever it was he was carrying.
But on the other, it had been maybe eighteen hours since his last meal, and he'd burned a lot of calories that morning.
As he sat himself at a relatively-empty table and poked at it with a wooden spoon, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder how his friends would feel, if they found out he was having a meal in a different world.
He couldn't help the slight grin that crossed his features, before his face fell as he once again thought about his friends, his family, his life.
He just couldn't help himself; his entire life (afterlife?) had been turned upside down in the past week or so, after all, and he hadn't really had much time to process it yet.
But at the same time...
Jaune quietly forced himself to take a deep breath, before taking a tentative scoop of the gruel.
"Jaune, everybody needs a little push from time to time."
He knew his friends were stronger than him.
He knew his friends were smarter than him.
He knew his friends were more experienced than him.
"It doesn't make you any different from the rest of us."
He knew his friends were better than him.
"Come on, I know you get frustrated, but you must keep trying."
And he knew they wouldn't want him to wallow in self-pity.
He'd already accepted there was basically no way home.
He was still... well, perhaps "alive" wasn't the best word for it, but he still existed.
Ruby would want him to learn all about their weapons (especially that "gun-lance" Gareth had mentioned), Nora would probably want to know if there were pancakes, Ren would have been more interested in herbs and tea, and Pyrrha...
Well, Pyrrha would probably be just be happy if he did his best (she really was a bit soft on him, come to think of it), but as her student and partner he wasn't going to embarrass himself in front of the Knights of Camelot (any further, at least)!
...
... honestly, she'd probably already be proud that he was accepting help from Sir Mordred and Sir Lancelot instead of trying to stubbornly do everything on his own!
Sighing, Jaune tentatively lifted the spoon to his mouth.
He knew his friends would be fine, even without him.
All he could do now, was continue on.
The gruel entered his mouth.
Immediately, Jaune recoiled and pulled a face, wondering whether the food was over-boiled or over-flavored.
One thing was for sure, it was certainly a... unique flavor.
But it was still nutritious protein, and definitely the best he could hope to get in this place, so he cautiously took another scoop.
As he swallowed he sensed a figure approaching him, and he looked up in time to see a petite blonde lady taking a seat in front of him, who immediately excitedly greeted him: "Good afternoon, Jaune! I'm honestly surprised to see you here!"
"Hey, Gareth," Jaune managed a smile for his new friend, before his face morphed into one of confusion. "... did you think I'd forget where the dining hall was? I mean, you gave me the tour just yesterday..."
"No, no, that's not it!" Gareth shook her head. "The entire castle's buzzing with news about what you did in the morning! Is it true?"
"Is it true?" Jaune echoed, before dropping his spoon back into his bowl and groaning. "What, you mean the part where we wrecked the training grounds and got scolded by your brother for an hour?"
"What, no!" Gareth exclaimed. "I'm talking about the part where you went toe-to-toe with Sir Mordred!"
"Is that what they're saying?" Jaune blinked, before it was his turn to shake his head. "That's... definitely stretching it a bit..."
"But it is true you had a bout with Sir Mordred, right?" Gareth pressed eagerly.
"I think you mean, I survived a bout with Sir Mordred," Jaune corrected Gareth with an awkward laugh.
"So it is true!" Gareth announced triumphantly.
"All I did was run around trying not to get utterly annihilated by him," Jaune pointed out wryly.
"That's still amazing!" Gareth immediately replied. "Most knights in Camelot would not last five minutes against him, to say nothing of a simple squire!"
"He's that good?" Jaune blinked.
"By skill of sword alone, Sir Mordred is easily among the top of the Round Table, to say nothing of his prodigious strength.' Gareth informed him, before sighing forlornly. "I can't believe I missed your training session with him..."
"Yeah, and I don't think Sir Agravain will allow Sir Mordred to conduct any more lessons like that." Jaune groaned, quietly thankful for his Aura having already healed up most of his bruises and aches.
"..." Gareth's eyes widened in shock, and as Jaune nodded in response she quickly reconducted herself: "... well, I suppose my brother must have a good reason for it..."
"The cost of fixing up the training grounds, mostly," Jaune helpfully informed her. "I think we went through almost a dozen racks of training swords."
"..." Gareth was dignified enough to maintain her composure even as she quietly bemoaned not having even been able to see the aftermath.
Then she recalled something, and spoke up: "Speaking of weapons... do you recall our discussion about Ira Lupus, on the way back to Camelot?"
"Yeah..." Jaune hummed as he raised an eyebrow. "You were talking about re-designing your gun-lance, right?"
"That is correct," Gareth nodded. "Would you mind sparing me some of your time later in the evening? As a fellow squire I would request both combat pointers from you and to discuss my weapon."
"... well, if Sir Mordred doesn't have anything else for me, I guess it's fine." Jaune shrugged. "Just... don't expect too much from me, alright? And share some of your experience with me, too!"
"Very well, then." Gareth smiled at him. "While I doubt it, I hope my experience will have some value to you."
"I'm sure it will," Jaune murmured, deciding not to mention his complete lack of experience.
-MORDRED'S ROOM, LATER THAT DAY-
"Sir Mordred?" Jaune's voice called out along with a sudden knock on the door, and a startled Mordred immediately called her helmet back up as her squire continued: "May I ask you a question?"
"Uh, of course, go ahead!" Mordred shouted back through the closed door even as she hastily stowed away the parchment in her hand.
"I was wondering if you had any plans for me for the evening, Sir Mordred," Jaune inquired. "If there were none, I will be training with Gareth."
"Uh..." Mordred looked back at where she'd kept the parchment. "... nope, I've got nothing for you tonight! Make sure you show her how much you've learned today, squire!"
"Thanks, Sir Mordred!" Jaune called back, before his footsteps began to trail off.
Mordred waited a few more minutes, before dismissing her helmet and pulling the crumpled piece of paper back out, all the while musing that her squire certainly had a commendable level of initiative and dedication to self-improvement.
It was the least she could do, as his Knight-Mentor and a Knight of the Round Table, to not disappoint his efforts.
"What else did Agravain say I should teach my squire, besides all that weird fancy manners stuff? Let's see... weapon maintenance... horseback riding... swordplay... wait, didn't he say I needed permission for any future training sessions? Ugh, I really don't want to have to see him right now..."
Author's Notes: Something something not dead something something always say not any time soon...
On a more serious note, I truly cannot apologize for how long this chapter took. Got saddled with lots of sudden overtime when half to a third of my team fell sick, my "I" and "B" keys suddenly died, I had a routine mobilization readiness exercise, had the plot fairy hit me with a MobuSeka story (which will probably stay on AO3 because FFN does not seem to have a MobuSeka section...), became a Beta Tester for Honkai Star Rail, and I really struggled a lot with the dialogue between Mordred and Jaune. I think I easily rewrote the first part over two dozen times, just because it just didn't seem right to me...
When it rains, it floods and wipes out the harvest and brings forth pestilence (or something along those lines).
Well, I haven't been plugging my ko-fi or P*treon in this story, so I don't feel that guilty about taking my time with things.
As for why this chapter was so short... it was meant to simply be the short epilogue to the prologue act, a short and simple part where Jaune deals with the aftermath of both his training and the entire situation he's in (Chapter 6 has him realizing he can't change it, and this chapter is him accepting it emotionally).
Making it any longer would make it cumbersome and awkward (well, more than it already is), and I really wasn't exactly expecting to take over two months to finally have time to do it...
Also, since when did this story get over 700 follows?!
On a side note, I just found that All The Difference In The Worlds got a TV Tropes page.
... I really have no idea what to say. Just thought it was pretty cool that someone cared enough to make it, so I've been contributing a bit to the page as a break.
I have no idea when the next chapter's gonna come out; I'll try to get it done before I have to go back to the army for two weeks for some security operations, but that's going to happen in less than a week, so...
Something something don't expect the next chapter any time soon something something.