Chapter 18 - Apoplectic Aftermathematics

The sun had already risen for a few hours, and Jaune had to fight to stifle the urge to yawn as he slowly shambled through the halls of the castle, doing his best to ignore the whispers and murmurs around him that even as they seemed to grow in intensity all the while.

At least it wasn't too difficult that morning; in all honesty, he was too tired and sore to really care that he was being stared at again, with most of his higher functions dedicated to trying to remember the way to the dining hall, and wishing that this world had discovered coffee.

Well, all things considered, he figured that he was pretty lucky to even find the castle still intact when he'd woken up.

When the King had left his room, having finally agreed to talk with Sir Mordred, he'd found his mind completely occupied between trying to process everything his mentor had shouted about, trying to process everything King Arthur had told him, and worrying about just how much worse things could get, and it had been hours before he'd finally passed out.

Of course, now that he wasn't worrying about waking up to a destroyed castle or a double homicide (or so he really hoped... the castle would have been a lot more noisy if the King or a Knight of the Round Table was dead, right?), his stomach had decided to gently remind him that he hadn't eaten in over a day, and as much as Aura may have healed any injuries he'd sustained, he still needed to eat.

As he continued making his way towards the dining hall, he did his best to take his mind off of food by instead wondering about how things had gone between Sir Mordred and the King.

Sure, the worst-case scenario had been (hopefully) averted, but that didn't mean things had necessarily worked out. After all, it didn't change the fact that the King had legitimate reasons for rejecting Sir Mordred as his son, just as it didn't change the fact that he had rejected him and hurt him, and it didn't change the fact that Sir Mordred's reaction had been... extreme, to say the least.

Now that he was thinking about it, though... oh, Oum, what if things only somehow got worse between the two of them because he'd interfered, and pushed the two to talk?!

Sure, he'd definitely believed they needed to have a heart-to-heart conversation, and his experience with his sisters had taught him that it was always better to nip these sorts of things in the bud instead of letting them fester, but he was also confident that nobody in his family had ever quite faced a situation this serious or complicated (nor could his sisters demolish castles with their bare hands when they lost their tempers).

For all he knew, Sir Mordred and the King would have eventually reconciled on their own, and him pushing the King to explain things to Sir Mordred while things were still recent and raw (and the latter still very much emotionally affected by it) had basically destroyed that future...

All because he, a person who wasn't even from here, hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut-

"Good morning, Jaune!"

The sudden loud noise wasn't nearly loud enough to make him jump (he'd shared a room with Nora Valkyrie for almost a year, after all), but it did snap him out of his spiral of self-doubt, and he looked up to find Gareth jogging up to him with a smile and a wave.

"Morning, Gareth," Jaune managed a smile of his own as the dimunitive girl reached him. His smile faltered marginally, however, as the events of the previous day returned to him. Lowering his voice, he inquired: "Hey, uh... so, how's Sir Mordred?"

"Well, Sir Mordred had yet to wake up when we left him last night, and I have not seen him since then..." Gareth followed Jaune's lead, more than aware of the occupants of the castle all around them, and just how curious they all were at the moment (herself included). Casually leaning closer to Jaune (and making sure nobody else could overhear her), she explained: "The King suddenly dropped by Agravain's room last night, and requested to speak privately with Sir Mordred once he woke, so my brother and I gave them space and went to my room to retire for the night."

"Hmmm..." Jaune hummed non-commitally as he processed the information. Sure, he hadn't really doubted that the King would have gone to talk to his mentor, but he supposed it was nice to get confirmation that he'd done it anyway.

Now, all that was left was to figure out how it had gone this time around...

"You don't sound surprised," Gareth observed curiously.

"Oh, uh, well..." Jaune blinked, and as Gareth leaned in even closer, he explained: "The King actually talked to me, before he went to talk to Sir Mordred..."

"His Majesty did?" Gareth's eyebrow rose.

"He wanted to ask how Sir Mordred was doing, and, well..." Jaune's voice trailed off as he recalled the... conversation, he'd had with him the previous night.

"And you're Sir Mordred's squire," Gareth filled in the blanks. As Jaune nodded, Gareth couldn't help but ask: "So, you know what happened that caused Sir Mordred to act out as he did yesterday, then?"

"I... I do," Jaune reluctantly admitted, before quickly adding: "But it's really not my place to say! Sorry..."

Gareth couldn't help but groan, frustrated at the seemingly-increasingly-commonplace secrecy around her. As much as everyone told her that she was destined to be the greatest of the Knights of the Round Table, it also felt like the people around her treated her like a child and a squire more often than not.

Sure, she'd expected it from her three older brothers (even though it had been extremely aggravating when Agravain had still maintained silence despite the severity of the previous day's situation), and she knew that Sir Lancelot was just being a good mentor by not letting what troubled him affect her learning (even though she'd have been more than happy to help), but hearing it from a fellow squire as well stung more than she'd expected.

At the same time, though, the code of chivalry was clear, and so she conceded: "Fine, I get it. If the details were told to you in strict confidence, your honor would be stained were you to share it with others. But... Sir Mordred will be alright, at least?"

"... I don't know, but I hope so," Jaune finally answered, inwardly relieved that Gareth was willing to drop the subject (and he wouldn't have to reveal that her mother had cheated on her father and slept with the King, or that she hadn't been the youngest sibling for a while).

"I pray all will be well too, Jaune," Gareth sighed, before she changed the subject: "Anyway, how are you feeling? To be honest, I wasn't even expecting you to be able to leave your bed today..."

"That bad?" Jaune asked drily.

"You were in a better shape when Sir Lancelot and I first found you in Snowdonia, just after your battle with the Addanc," Gareth pointed out with a chuckle, before looking him over seriously. "Are you really sure you're alright, Jaune?"

"I've got my Aura, remember?" Jaune reminded his friend, reassuringly raising his arms to show his lack of bruising. "I heal really quickly."

Gareth inspected them for a moment, before nodding: "That's good to hear. Then, I suppose you'll be heading to see Sir Mordred now?"

"Actually..." Jaune rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I was going to grab some food first... since I didn't really get a chance to eat yesterday..."

"Oh, right..." Gareth laughed awkwardly, before looking away guiltily as she admitted: "I apologize for that oversight, Jaune. Agravain and I, we didn't expect things to take as long as they did, and by mid-morning we were too occupied keeping people out of that wing of the castle to aid you in your efforts."

"Yeah, I had wondered why nobody walked in on us," Jaune shrugged, before reassuring Gareth: "And it's probably for the best... I don't think Sir Mordred would have appreciated anyone seeing him in the state he was in."

"... if you say so, Jaune," Gareth aceepted his efforts appreciatively, and the pair fell into a companionable silence as they continued walking towards the dining hall.

Finally, though, curiosity got the better of Gareth, and with as much casualness as she could manage, she inquired: "By the way, and you don't need to tell me any incriminating or sensitive details about Sir Mordred, but could I trouble you to tell me about the spar with your mentor? All Agravain and I could hear were screams of anger and the sound of metal on metal, before a long period of silence followed. After that, you emerged from the room, while your mentor was passed out on the floor..."

"I didn't beat him in that fight, if that's what you're thinking," Jaune interjected drily.

"Considering the state you were in, that much seems obvious," Gareth pointed out with a chuckle, and as Jaune rolled his eyes she continued: "But I hope you can understand why everybody in Camelot is discussing what happened; even my brother and I can only guess what truly transpired in Sir Mordred's room!"

"It's really nothing..." Jaune had been about to make another retort, before blanching as he processed Gareth's words. "... everybody?"

"Surely you've realized that everyone has been looking at you and whispering, right?" Gareth asked incredulously.

"I mean, they've been doing that since Sir Mordred and I got back two days ago!" Jaune hissed under his breath even as he self-consciously lowered his head and quickened his pace, feeling the gazes levelled at him even more keenly now. "I didn't know they were talking about that now! It's not like I could just go up to someone and ask, "hey, what are you talking about", right?"

"Ah, right, I almost forgot," Gareth snapped her fingers as she recalled something. "The tales that had been flying around about the adventures you and Sir Mordred had in the past few weeks have begun mixing with the theories regarding what transpired yesterday. It's... let's just say some of the rumors are getting very wild..."

"I'll pass, thanks," Jaune quickly shook his head and crossed his arms, remembering some of the stories that Gareth had told him when he'd returned two days ago. Sighing, he explained: "Look, all that happened was that Sir Mordred basically knocked me around and pummelled me into the ground until he calmed down, that's it."

Well, that and a lot of crying, but he wouldn't think any less of Sir Mordred for that, and he definitely wasn't going to breathe a word about it to another soul.

Fortunately for Jaune, before Gareth could continue pressing the subject any further, the pair reached the dining hall.

Unfortunately for him, though, the dining hall was packed, and as the number of stares he received suddenly tripled, he quietly wondered about whether he really needed to eat that morning.

-FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER-

"Oh, Your Majesty!" Gareth couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice, as she and Jaune spotted the cloaked blonde standing outside the room they'd been heading towards.

"Squire Gareth," Artoria nodded to her niece as Gareth genuflected, before she found her eyes drawn up to the tall blonde squire by Gareth's side as he struggled with a ceramic pot in his hands. "Squire Jaune."

"Your Majesty," Jaune awkwardly returned the greeting with a respectful nod, busy as he was with sure the pot full of hot stew they'd liberated from the dining hall wasn't in any danger of spilling.

"Would I be correct in presuming the two of you are here for Sir Mordred?" Artoria asked gently once Gareth had risen.

"We are," Gareth confirmed, before gesturing to the food in Jaune's hands. "We wanted to see if he was okay, and if he was interested in any food."

Artoria smiled at her niece's kindness, though a part of her couldn't help but wonder how her elder sister had done so well with her first four children, and utterly failed her youngest. The rest of her knew the reason, however, and she easily kept such thoughts off of her face as she informed them: "Sir Mordred is still asleep at the moment. However, I am pleased to inform you his condition is better than it was the previous day, and I'm sure he would appreciate the food and the concern."

"Oh, that's good to hear," Gareth smiled, though Jaune couldn't help but try and study the King's face, unsure if he was being completely honest or just giving a simple pleasantry.

Artoria easily noticed his gaze, of course, and returned it for a brief moment before turning to Gareth: "Forgive me, my niece, but would you mind giving me and Squire Jaune some privacy? There are some matters of a sensitive nature that I must discuss with him."

"... of course, my liege," Gareth replied after only a moment of hesitation, before moving to comply.

Once she'd walked away, Artoria exhaled, lessening some of the tension between her and Jaune. Then she opened the door to Sir Agravain's room, and suggested: "Perhaps you would like to relieve yourself of that pot, Squire Jaune?"

"Thanks, Your Majesty," Jaune nodded appreciatively as he walked into the room, and coincidentally got a look at his mentor where he slept on Sir Agravain's bed (and still in his armor as always, a sight Jaune had long since gotten used to). Relaxing fractionally, Jaune placed the pot down on a nearby table, and conversationally said: "The cooks were really eager to fulfill Gareth's request."

"Squire Gareth has good relations with the kitchen servants, dating back to when she did some work as a kitchen boy," Artoria explained in a soft voice as Jaune left the room, closing the door behind him as he walked out (as quietly and gently as he could, of course).

"Huh, she never told me that," Jaune commented, unsure of what else he could.

"Indeed, as a kitchen boy she received no small amount of praise for both her work and her pale, beautiful form," Artoria reminisced pleasantly, the memory of Kay nicknaming her "Beaumains" being one that brought her no small amusement even now. The memory of family, however, then reminded her of her half-sister, and then of her bastard son, and so she sighed and returned to reality: "But we both know you are not here to listen to tales of Squire Gareth."

"..." Jaune took a deep breath, steeling his nerves. "Your Majesty-"

"I believe this conversation would be easier for the both of us if we could once again suspend formalities, Jaune," Artoria spoke up, cutting him off.

Jaune blinked, caught off guard by King Arthur's suggestion, but eventually he acquiesed: "Then... Arthur... how did it go?"

Artoria had already expected that question, and candidly answered: "To say it was not an easy talk would be putting it lightly."

Jaune couldn't help but wince, worried that his worst fears had been true.

"Even with your prior warning, I fear I severely underestimated how strongly and poorly Mordred had reacted to my words," Artoria continued to elaborate, a part of her still silently appalled by the things Mordred had screamed at her (Uncle Ector would have smacked her behind raw if she'd ever acted out like that), while another part of her knew she had absolutely no right to defend herself, let alone discipline her son.

Just as a dejected Jaune was about to hang his head and apologize, however, Artoria instead lowered her head to Jaune and concluded: "But... it was one that needed to be had, and all things considered... it went as well as one could hope for."

Jaune's eyes widened, and the offer to abduct his mentor and take a hike until Sir Mordred had calmed down died on his lips as he instead dared to hope: "So... d-does that mean...?"

"Yes, Mordred and I managed to reach an... perhaps an agreement might be stretching it, but we did come to an understanding," Artoria confirmed with a tired smile, before her shoulders slumped and she sighed exhaustedly. "Of course, things will never be the same between us, and I foresee the next few weeks, if not months, being terribly awkward for Mordred and I. And make no mistake, even with our understanding... I still do not believe I have any right to call Mordred my son.

"Please, allow me to explain," Artoria raised a hand placatingly just as Jaune opened his mouth to protest, having anticipated his reaction. Quietly, she wondered if Mordred realized just how blessed she was to have such a loyal squire and friend even as she began by reminding him: "You already know of the initial talk between Mordred and I, and you know of my reasons for not being able to acknowledge him as my son."

Jaune nodded wordlessly, the conversation from last night still fresh in his mind.

"All of those would be more than sufficient to disqualify me as his father, but what I feel is truly the bigget obstacle that prevents me from doing so is that, to put it simply, I had no knowledge of his existence or relation to me, let alone any hand in raising him, and by the time he was brought to Camelot he was his own man, absent of any involvement from me."

"But that's not your fault!" Jaune couldn't help but speak up at that. "You said that you unknowingly... ahem, slept with..."

"... quite," Artoria cleared her throat pointedly as Jaune's voice trailed off, uncomfortable at finishing that sentence. "But that does not change the facts. I did not raise Mordred. I was never there for Mordred in his youth. I do not even know a thing about Mordred's childhood. The bonds of blood may tie us together, but I pray you understand that I have never truly been a father to Mordred."

It was also why, even if King Uther Pendragon had sired her, she'd always consider Uncle Ector to be her father, in every way that mattered.

A moment of silence followed as Jaune digested what he'd just been told, before he finally asked: "Then... what happens next? Was Sir Mordred satisfied with that answer?"

Somehow, he just couldn't see it.

"Indeed, he wasn't," Artoria confirmed with a shake of her head. "Like I mentioned earlier, we did eventually reach a compromise. I will never truly be able to raise Mordred as a father should, but I'd still certainly like to learn more about how he grew up, while he believes he needs to earn my acknowledgement, even if it can never be public."

Jaune sighed: "I guess this is probably the best outcome, huh?"

"Perhaps," Artoria replied simply, having reflected that her instincts and experiences, while effective at guiding her in both warfare and rulership, were still lacking when it came to fatherhood. "We can never know how things might have played out otherwise, Jaune. For what it may be worth, though, I personally favor the newfound openness between Mordred and I; he knows my position, and I his as well. You have my gratitude, Jaune."

Jaune blinked a few times as he tried to process Arthur's words, before pointing a finger at himself as he asked: "... me?"

"Who else would I be referring to, Jaune?" Artoria replied bemusedly.

"I-I mean... I didn't really do anything," Jaune pointed out as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling completely undeserving of any praise the King was heaping on him.

"No?" Artoria's eyebrow arched as she quickly studied the young squire's face, wondering if he was putting on a show of false modesty. Upon seeing that he was being genuine, however, she simply advised: "Humility may be a virtue, Jaune, but you do a disservice to both yourself and the people you've aided when you fail to recognize your achievements."

"My... achievements?" Jaune felt completely lost.

"Did you think just anybody could even begin to gain Mordred's trust, let alone be able to calm him down as you did yesterday?" Artoria asked rhetorically.

"..." Jaune fell silent as he thought about it. Sir Mordred may have been his friend, but even he had to admit his mentor wasn't exactly the most sociable or popular person around...

... well, there was always Sir Agravain. Sir Agravain had Sir Mordred's trust (he knew his secret, after all), and Jaune was fully confident that he could have succeeded where Jaune had.

Eventually.

If there had been no other way.

Before he could finally answer, however, Artoria continued on: "And even if you did find someone who could do for Mordred what you did, Jaune... do you think they would have also questioned me, let alone challenged me?"

As Jaune once again found himself at a loss for words (the only person he could think of who'd done so had been Sir Tristan, back during the feast), Artoria concluded: "Make no mistake, I am truly honored by the trust that my Knights have in me. But in this situation, I do not see any of them pushing the matter, insisting I seek out Mordred, especially not after hearing my reasoning. They would have instead had faith that my actions were for the best, and things would have ended there."

"... uh, well, I guess I see your point," Jaune conceded, unsure of what else he was supposed to say to that. But it also felt wrong to simply leave it there, and so Jaune racked his brains for a few moments, before he attempted to reassure his liege (and friend): "Hey, for what it's worth, Arthur... it's not that you don't have my trust or anything. It's just that... well... sure, I don't doubt you'll do what you think is right... but we're both only human, right?"

Artoria blinked, before nodding slowly in agreement.

Taking that as his cue, Jaune decided to quickly finish up before he could put his foot in his mouth again: "Anyway, you can trust that I'll question you if I don't understand something, and I'll challenge you if I disagree with something, alright?"

Not that he expected to have to do that often (the current situation not withstanding, of course), but as a fellow leader he could definitely understand second-guessing his decisions (though Jaune had only been a fraud leading Team JNPR for less than a year, where Arthur was an honest-to-Oum King with maybe two decades of experience).

Instead of replying, however, Artoria took a moment to search Jaune's face.

Then her green eyes met his baby blues, and she slowly exhaled before answering: "I... will hold you to those words then, Jaune."

Jaune simply nodded in response.

After all, those were an Arc's words, and an Arc never went back on his word.

Author's Notes: Sorry for how long this update took as well; I was really busy in the past two months once I returned to work, and while the plot fairy did come to me a few times... it was for an idea unrelated to this story, so that was fun...

Anyway, regarding this chapter... the first half is meant to both address Jaune's innate self-deprecation, the overall events of the previous day, and how the rumors flying around Camelot about him and his mentor have not been addressed in the least, while the second half is more directly linked to the aftermath of Artoria's talk with Jaune the previous day, as well as some slight bonding of absolutely no consequence.

Other than that... I've honestly got nothing.

Artoria's conversation with Jaune should speak for itself.

Sorry this chapter was so short; it was originally supposed to be longer, but I decided to split it into two for the sole reason that it's already been dragged out long enough.