Chapter 9 - Reminding Routines
"Wake up, squire! Come on, we're burning daylight!"
As the familiar voice of Sir Mordred called out through the thick doors, Jaune found himself slowly roused from his sleep. As it was quickly followed up with a heavy pounding against the door, Jaune couldn't help but sigh even as he looked out of the window towards the moonlit night sky and quietly ticked yet another day off of his mental calendar.
This marked what? Twenty? Twenty one days, since he'd first woken up in that forest?
Jaune had begun to lost count; he couldn't help it, he'd fallen into something of a routine since coming to Camelot, and the days had just kind of blended together (and wasn't that a funny way to describe his afterlife, that it had become routine).
In the mornings (long before the sun had even risen, despite what his over-enthusiastic trainer would always say), he'd almost always find himself being woken up by Sir Mordred, before being dragged out of Camelot in order to continue their training (presumably, Sir Mordred still couldn't get permission from Sir Agravain).
Fortunately for him, though, Sir Mordred didn't seem to see the need to beat him half to death anymore, and instead of his mornings being spent fighting for his afterlife, his mentor was more than content to actually teach him.
Of course, Sir Mordred could certainly be strict and demanding, especially when it came to practical demonstrations.
For example, where Pyr would have gently corrected his stances or his grip if he found himself making a mistake, Sir Mordred would demonstrate exactly why what he was doing was a bad idea.
On him.
Repeatedly.
And that wasn't even getting into whenever Sir Mordred decided to test his defenses or reflexes...
...
... anyway, after Sir Mordred concluded ended his daily b̶e̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ training sessions with a quick review session (and his Aura had healed him enough for him to catch his breath), the pair would part ways, with Mordred going to take care of some "super-secret Round Table stuff" (Jaune figured he had to reassure Sir Agravain that they weren't destroying any more things) and Jaune heading to grab some breakfast (even if it was usually closer to lunch time).
Meal times were still a mixed bag, though.
On one hand the food wasn't exactly getting any more palatable or edible, and Jaune was seriously beginning to consider whether it would just be better if he made his own meals (he would've certainly done it if he actually had the time or energy to do so)...
But on the other hand, at least things weren't nearly as awkward as they'd first been. The other residents were starting to find him old news (it was helped by the fact that they hadn't broken any more fields or been scolded by Sir Agravain since then), he had plenty of experience when it came to being stared at (that tended to happen a lot when one was simultaneously the leader of a team with Nora Valkyrie on it, the partner of the Four-Time Champion of Mistral, the best friend of the youngest student in the history of Beacon, and the worst student in the history of Beacon), and he usually ate with Gareth whenever they could arrange it.
He still didn't like to be stared at and murmured about, of course, but it was much easier to ignore when he was starving and had someone to talk to.
And speaking of his occasional conversation partner, Jaune felt like he could safely say he'd been right.
Gareth and Ruby would've definitely hit it off.
Honestly, Gareth really reminded him of a more outgoing Ruby Rose (especially when she started discussing Ira Lupus), and more than once Jaune had almost called his fellow squire by the wrong name before managing to catch himself.
... well, putting aside unimportant and complicated matters, Jaune felt confident in saying that without Gareth, he probably wouldn't have been adapting to his time here nearly as quickly as he was.
Sure, he owed his mentor his afterlife for getting him out of the forest and teaching him how to be a knight, but his mentor was often busy with his duties, and it was hanging out with someone his age and having casual chats that helped him to relax, to feel almost normal about his entire situation.
... although he really didn't know how to feel about finding it normal to discuss weapons, especially when he still didn't know how to use anything more complicated than a sword and could only really get by thanks to regurgitating whatever he'd been able to absorb from Beacon, his Scroll, and Ruby Rose...
Well, at least his first friend would have been proud of him.
After meal time, and for the rest of the day, Jaune would typically find his afternoons occupied by further training and studies. The type of training differed depending on who he was spending the afternoon with; sometimes Sir Mordred would suddenly decide that he needed to know something new (recently he'd finally gotten used to properly sharpening a sword; sure, he could sharpen a wooden stick and a kitchen knife, but he'd never learned (or needed to learn) about sharpening the family sword before), sometimes he and Gareth would stick together after lunch and the two would continue discussing whatever they'd been talking about earlier (be it how Jaune was finding Camelot, how his training was progressing, or even what Gareth wanted to improve about Ira Lupus next and how they could achieve it), and sometimes, when no one was free, he'd simply do stuff on his own, from practicing his sword swings and form to jogging around the grounds for a few hours to even spending time in the castle's library to read up more about the world he found himself in.
His teammates would have been so proud of that last part, if they didn't all have heart attacks...
"... squire? You okay, squire?"
Sir Mordred's uncharacteristically-concerned tone cut through Jaune's thoughts, and he looked up from his reveries to see Sir Mordred's signature helmet looking down at him.
"I'm sorry, were you saying something?" Jaune asked politely, knowing there was no way he could pretend he'd been paying attention.
"I was just... it's nothing," Mordred huffed, looking away crossly. After a moment, though, Mordred peeked back in Jaune's direction and asked: "You just seemed distracted during today's training, squire."
"Oh... sorry." Jaune rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"..." Mordred studied her squire for a moment as she wondered just what she was supposed to do now. After all, there'd been nothing in Agravain's notes about what to do if her squire was distracted, and she'd never asked since she'd never seen her squire like this before (also, she still didn't want to speak to her brother after he'd scolded her like that).
And while she knew exactly what Mother would do if it were her in that position... she didn't really want to smack her squire's head a few dozen times while yelling at him for messing up.
Ugh, why was this so difficult?
Whose idea had it even been to make him her squire, anyway?!
As she desperately tried to recall what the knights in her picture books would do in situations like this, Jaune reluctantly admitted: "I guess... I was just... thinking..."
"Oh?" Mordred quickly pounced on the conversational lifeline. "Thinking, huh?"
"Yeah, thinking..." Jaune sighed.
"Thinking about what?" Mordred inquired, sitting down next to him.
"Just... you know..." Jaune hummed noncommittally as he looked up at the sky. As an awkward silence descended upon the pair, and Mordred began to fidget impatiently, Jaune finally sighed: "It's nothing major, Sir Mordred. Just... can't believe I've been in Camelot for, what, two weeks already?"
"It's only been two weeks?!" Mordred couldn't help but blink incredulously.
"Yeah, I can't believe it either," Jaune laughed. "Feels like it was just yesterday I was still in Beacon..."
"That's the place that trained you, right?" Mordred asked, before snapping her fingers as she finally recalled a similar story she'd once read. "Do you miss it?"
"I-I... of course I do..." Jaune conceded before shaking his head. "But that's not what I was thinking about. I was thinking about how this place reminds me a lot of Beacon."
"Oh... that's good, right?" Mordred pressed curiously and carelessly. "I mean, if it reminds you of home, then you'd miss it less, right?"
"... I don't know..." Jaune shrugged uncertainly, before forcing a smile on his face as he looked up at Sir Mordred's expressionless helmet. "But at least, it's helped me get used to my time here."
Honestly, that was probably an understatement; if Jaune closed his eyes, he could almost begin to pretend he was still in Beacon.
Almost.
But even if he didn't have to eat Camelot's food or take a crap in a society that hadn't even invented toilet paper, let alone indoor plumbing... he just couldn't do it.
He just couldn't delude himself.
His mentor wasn't Pyrrha or Nora, his weapon-enthusiastic friend wasn't Ruby Rose, and this wasn't even Remnant, let alone Beacon. He'd already accepted that; pretending otherwise was just doing a disservice to himself and his friends, both the ones he'd lost and the ones he'd made.
"That's good to hear!" Mordred cheerfully clapped him on the back, completely unaware of his inner thoughts, before laughing as his back glowed brightly in response. "Ah, by the way, about your "Aura"..."
"I've told you a thousand times already, Sir Mordred, it's not happening" Jaune rolled his eyes in good-natured exasperation, even though he was privately thankful for the change in subject.
"Aw, come on!" Mordred whined.
"I barely know anything about Aura myself, Sir Mordred; there's no way I'm going to mess around with your soul to try and get it to manifest!" Jaune refused to budge.
"Even if I ordered you to do it as your mentor?" Mordred challenged.
"Nope," Jaune firmly stated, before quickly adding as he sensed Mordred's scowl: "Besides, you don't need it anyway, Sir. If anything, Sir Agravain might kick me out if I make you any stronger!"
"Hah! True!" Mordred roared with laughter, easily mollified by her squire's shameless flattery. The mention of her brother reminded her that she'd been purposely avoiding the one person in Camelot who was actually helping her with being a Knight Mentor, though, and after a moment of contemplation (or as close as the five-year-old could get to it) she got up, brushed the dirt from her armor, and murmured: "And speaking of Agravain..."
"Sir Mordred?" Jaune looked up at his mentor questioningly.
"I just remembered, I've got something I need to discuss with him later, squire!" Mordred made up an excuse on the spot, before declaring: "So let's end the session here for today! See you around, squire!"
Jaune could only sigh as he watched his mentor dash off, and hope that Sir Mordred wasn't about to get in trouble with Sir Agravain for whatever urgent matter the two apparently needed to discuss.
Truly, his mentor could be... eccentric, at times.
And even he'd noticed that Sir Mordred was hardly the most experienced teacher in Camelot (he just needed to listen to Gareth describing her lessons to see the difference).
... but at the same time, Jaune had to admit, he was definitely seeing himself improve at a much faster rate than back in Beacon.
That wasn't to say that Pyr was a worse teacher, of course; without her, he wouldn't even have made it past Initiation, let alone passed his combat classes (or known how to stand and how to swing a sword without falling over and which end of the sword was which)!
And he definitely still didn't think Pyrrha had been coddling him!
But maybe Sir Mordred had been on to something, pushing him hard, confident that he could take it...
Or maybe it was just because he was only now seeing his growth; Pyr had always told him when he'd been discouraged that the fundamentals, while important, didn't always show obvious results so quickly.
... oh well, it didn't matter.
Beggars couldn't be choosers, right?
-AGRAVAIN'S CHAMBERS, LATER-
"Heya, Agravain!" Mordred's voice, coupled with the door suddenly being kicked open, made Agravain jump in his seat. "It's been a while!"
"... Sir Mordred," Agravain breathed as he quickly recomposed himself, refusing to give his smirking younger sister anything more than a dirty look, let alone the satisfaction of having surprised him. "This is... unexpected."
"Is it really so unexpected for me to see my brother?" Mordred asked innocently.
"When you've been avoiding me for a fortnight, yes," Agravain sarcastically retorted.
"I haven't been avoiding you-" Mordred began to defend herself.
"Of course you haven't," Agravain rolled his eyes, before sighing and changing the topic: "Anyway, before you tell me what you need from me, I need to ask you some questions involving your squire."
"Oh come on!" Mordred immediately whined. "For the last time, that was not going overboard! And even if it was, my squire can take it! ... not that we've been wrecking any more fields or anything..."
Agravain took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose before slowly exhaling as he reminded himself that he had an important duty that day. "This isn't about that, Mordred. I just want to ask for an update regarding your squire's progress."
"Oh?" Mordred blinked, taken off-guard by the request. Then she puffed up her chest and crowed: "Well, if you must know, he's coming along very well, if I do say so myself! He can sharpen my sword without any problem now-"
"He couldn't sharpen a sword before this?" Agravain interrupted.
"Apparently he never learnt it before I taught it to him," Mordred shrugged, before explaining: "His soul-magic thingy protects the edge of the blade too. It's absolute bullshit, I tell you... but yeah, when I first handed him my sword, he tried to sharpen it like a kitchen knife! A kitchen knife!"
Agravain could feel a sense of foreboding descending upon him, but he forced it down as he focused on the bright side: "But he can now?"
"Yeah, he's gotten the hang of it," Mordred confirmed. "Let's see, what else was there... he's getting really good at fighting. Still got a long way to go before he can lay a finger on me, of course, but I'd wager on him over most regular Knights in Camelot. Hell, I might even put money on him kicking Gareth's butt in a month's time!"
"That's good..." Agravain murmured, feeling reassured by Mordred's words and confidence. But of course, it wasn't his job to be complacent. "And what about the other topics I told you to teach him?"
"Other topics?" Mordred repeated blankly, before realizing what he was talking about: "What, you mean court etiquette and music and dancing and all that fancy crap?"
"Yes, those topics," Agravain confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief that his meat-headed sister hadn't simply forgotten his list.
Unfortunately for him, Mordred's next words shattered his hopes: "Why do I need to teach him all that useless stuff? Actually, the hell's all those things got to do with being a Knight, anyway? Mother never taught me about anything like that!"
Agravain suddenly felt torn between the urge to curse his bitch of a mother for raising a weapon instead of a proper knight, and the urge to simply bury his face into his hands and weep.
-PATH BACK TO CAMELOT, AROUND THE SAME TIME-
As Jaune slowly strolled back up the familiar path to the castle, he spotted two familiar figures approaching him., and it was with no small confusion that he greeted them: "Morning, Gareth, Sir Lancelot."
"Hail, Squire Jaune," Lancelot easily returned the greeting, nodding towards the blonde boy.
"Morning, Jaune!" Gareth enthusiastically waved at her fellow squire. "Did you hear the news?"
"Sorry, I was busy training all morning," Jaune shook his head. "Did something happen?"
"A runner just arrived with a message: the campaign at the borders have been concluded," Lancelot explained patiently. "The King and his army are making preparations to return to Camelot as we speak."
"Oh, that's great!" Jaune could see why the pair seemed so energized now; if there was one thing he'd observed during his time here, it was that King Arthur seemed to be universally beloved in Camelot.
"It certainly is!" Gareth nodded, before asking: "So, are you ready to plead your case to the King?"
"... eh?" Jaune blinked, caught completely off-guard.
"Fear not, Squire Jaune," Lancelot reassured Jaune, misunderstanding his reaction. "The King is just and fair, perform in front of him as you have in front of me and Sir Mordred, and I'm certain your worth will be sufficiently demonstrated."
"..." Jaune could only stare in mortification at the pair, as he finally remembered that he'd completely forgotten to tell them not to bother wasting their time trying to find his home all this time.
Author's Notes: Something something time-skip something something hate dialogue something something busy something something multiple rewrites.
Something something P*treon and ko-fi something something donations get you nothing something something don't expect updates anytime soon something something.
On a side note, when the hell did this story hit 1k follows?!