Chapter 30 - Relation Retribution

"Is there anything else you would require, Your Royal Highness?"

"That will be all. Thank you for your assistance, Sir Gareth."

"Then I shall take my leave. Please ring the bell should you require anything else."

With those parting words Gareth began walking out of the dungeon, taking care to maintain her friendly air and polite smile as she navigated the tower's corridors, until she finally reached the private room reserved for those whose duties involved guarding Camelot"s prisoners.

Under normal circumstances there'd have been at least half a dozen knights occupying the room (especially considering just who was housed here), but these were not normal circumstances, and the only other knight she could expect to see today would be Gaheris (and maybe Gawain, if he came to bother his remaining siblings and check up on them).

And while she would have hardly minded the company of her fellow knights under normal circumstances, this time she couldn't help but feel grateful for the privacy, even as her shoulders slumped and her lips fell, leaving behind no trace of her prior demeanour.

Truthfully speaking, she was aware that few would be unreasonable enough to blame her for not being her usual self, considering everything that had happened in the past few months (from the accusation of her former fellow squire and friend, to her mentor's betrayal of the realm, and the death of her elder brother and many of her fellow knights), but even so, she still refused to allow her spirit to fail.

That just wasn't the kind of Knight of the Round Table she'd been trained to be, and not even Sir Lancelot's infidelity and treachery could change everything he'd done for her.

Not even the murder of her brother could allow her to simply toss aside her loyalty to the man who'd granted her her knighthood.

... at the same time, she couldn't just accept the death of her brother, of course, nor could she ignore the fact that Sir Lancelot had indisputably committed numerous grievous crimes, from treason to murder.

A sigh escaped from Gareth's lips as she collapsed into a nearby chair, and once more pondered the dilemma that had haunted her ever since her brother had barged into her knighting ceremony and accused her friend (and which had only worsened after Lancelot's affair had been made public).

When her vows and oaths were in conflict, what was she supposed to do?

Which course of action was the just and honorable one?

What mattered more, being faithful in love or being loyal in friendship?

Who was more important, the brothers that she shared blood with, or the brothers that she'd shed blood with?

Sir Lancelot's and Queen Ginevere's actions were undoubtedly wrong, both morally and legally, that much she would not deny.

But she knew her mentor, knew that he had to have had his reasons for doing what he had (even though the mentor she knew would have never cut down his fellow brothers-in-arms and betrayed his King).

But their crimes demanded justice and restitution, as none could be above the laws of the realm, especially not a Knight of the Round Table or the High Queen of Logres.

But the King had clearly sought understanding, citing their not-insubstantial records of services to Camelot, and considered clemency despite the weight of their actions, and no small amount of protests, objections, and outrage throughout the court.

Gareth exhaled tiredly, still finding herself no closer to the answer despite all the time that she'd had to think about it.

In the end, in lieu of being able to come to a conclusion on what the code of chivalry entreated as a course of action, and in the absence of the counsel of those whose advice she would have once seeked, she had chosen to hold fast to her oaths.

Prisoner or not, guilty or not, no sentence had yet been pronounced; Lady Guinevere was still Her Royal Highness, High Queen of the Realm, and as such Gareth would treat her with all the respect her station demanded, regardless of her infidelity, or even whether she'd bewitched her mentor and led him astray.

It was the last thing she could do for the woman that her mentor loved.

(It was more than she'd been able to do for her friend.)

Gareth's frown deepened even as she shook her head, refusing to dwell on the past, on what she couldn't change.

It didn't matter that, even from the beginning she hadn't been convinced of his guilt (or rather she could no more believe that Jaune was a traitor to the realm than she could any Knight of the Round Table (an admittedly-poor comparison, considering her mentor's actions).)

It didn't matter that her mother was an accomplished and renowned witch (so there surely had to have been some merit to her observations), and even Gaheris had ultimately advised prudence, to say nothing of Gawain's overbearingness and Agravain's overcautiousness.

It didn't matter that even the King had not only been clearly skeptical of the charges from the start, but had also apparently met with Jaune before he'd left, and allowed him to leave without issue.

Ultimately, she'd failed then to fulfil her oaths to defend the defenseless, or to uphold justice and fairness.

Wondering whether things could have been different if only she'd openly acted against her mentor and family and shown support for Jaune would not change the fact that she hadn't.

All she could do now was to not repeat the same mistake with Her Royal Highness.

Unsurprisingly, that did little to endear her to those who'd doubted her loyalties because of the actions of her mentor, and who'd treated her refusal to condemn the First of the Knights of the Round Table and the High Queen of England as support for or even complicity in their treason.

Fortunately, while she'd never relied on it, she still had her status as the only daughter of King Lot of Orkney and Queen Morgan le Fay, niece of High King Arthur Pendragon, sister to Sir Gawain of the Round Table, Champion of the Lady Lyonesse and Vanquisher of the Red Knight Sir Robigus Ironside, and a fully-instated Knight of the Round Table in her own right, which did much to insulate her against any potential reprisals.

That only left those who blamed the Queen for Lancelot's rampage.

Gareth sank deeper into the chair with a groan.

She could understand their pain, she really could; she'd lost her brother too, after all.

But it hadn't even been a week since the King had left, and though Sir Kay had done his best to enforce discipline in His Majesty's absence, there had been a few who had attempted to take advantage of it to take matters into their own hands.

She and Gaheris had intercepted and apprehended all of them, of course, and handed them over to Sir Kay, but their actions still bothered her.

Had things in Camelot truly deteriorated so much, that people no longer trusted the judgement of the King, the ultimate arbiter of justice in the land?

And that wasn't even getting into the whispers she'd heard whenever she'd left the castle, of how King Arthur lacked the caliber required to be worthy of the Crown, of how his Knights, even those of the Round Table, had begun leaving his service, and of how even his wife, whom he had never sired an heir with, had found love in the arms of another.

... well, it wasn't as if she was completely free of doubt either; of course, her uncle, King Arthur Pendragon, was the Perfect King, whose actions and decisions had been more than vindicated by the decade of prosperity the Britons had enjoyed since his coronation, and she would never dare even dream of disobeying his decrees.

But while she was certain he had his reasons, even she had to admit that she struggled to see the wisdom behind his decision to appoint Sir Mordred to the Regency Council, especially not with how the latter's demeanour had changed since Jaune's departure.

... perhaps His Majesty believed that working with Sir Kay would teach Sir Mordred some valuable and important lessons? Or maybe even change him for the better?

At the very least, she was reasonably sure it had nothing to do with her brother's presence on said council.

As she sat in her chair, puzzling over Sir Mordred's additional responsibilities, she heard footsteps approaching, and sighed as she straightened her back, figuring that it was Gaheris returning from his own patrol.

Then she froze, as she processed the quality of the footsteps, too hurried and heavy for Gaheris's normal pace, before leaping to her feet.

But even as her hand reached for her sword, however, the footsteps reached the room, and the door was flung open, revealing an all-too-familiar figure.

Sure, his armor was no longer polished to a gleam, and his once-impeccable bearing and grooming had given way to a messy and unkempt appearance, but there was no way she could ever mistake her mentor for anybody else.

"Sir Lancelot..." Gareth breathed, shock and sorrow filling her voice as she took in his state.

There was no need to ask what he was here for.

And while she'd occasionally imagined seeking out her wayward mentor and convincing him to lay down his arms and return to the castle, atone for his sins, and seek mercy and forgiveness from the King and those he'd wronged, now that she was face-to-face with him she found that the words would not come.

She'd been his squire long enough to recognize the determined glint in his eye, to know that even if she were to insult his resolve by attempting to sway him from his course it would do no good.

She'd just never imagined she'd ever be on the receiving end of it.

Even as her mind raced, he was already moving once more, heading in her general direction, completely ignoring her voice.

And yet, even though she knew she stood between him and the door towards Camelot's gaols, she found herself unable to draw her sword from its sheath.

It wasn't fear that stayed her hand.

She just could not raise her weapon, not against her mentor, Sir Lancelot, the man who'd trained her, bestowed her knighthood upon her, earned her loyalty.

Not even after everything he'd done.

Not even with what he was about to do.

Instead, as the man she adored and admired closed the distance and reached for her, and time seemed to slow, she only tensed up and closed her eyes, and prayed.

-TEN MINUTES EARLIER-

A forlorn sigh involuntarily escaped Mordred's lips as she slumped against the window sill, her eyes fixed on the horizon beyond the city surrounding the castle, her mind equally distant.

It was odd; she'd finally begun taking the steps towards achieving her mother's dreams of claiming the throne (and her dreams of being acknowledged by her father), with the King not only having entrusted her with overseeing the kingdom's affairs in his absence but also assigned the Sir Kay, whose management skills even Mother had recognized, to mentor her.

And sure, she'd always known that there were some subjects that were important (or so a certain someone had kept saying), even if she couldn't quite understand why yet, and that the crown was as much of a burden as it was an honor (Father had emphasized that to her)...

But she just couldn't find it within her to like learning things like tracking prices and choosing words at all!

And what on earth did her childhood, her hobbies, and bleeding and behinds have to do with ruling the Kingdom?

Why did Kay occasionally bring up such unusual topics and ask her such questions?

Not for the first time, she found herself wishing her squire was still here, though this time she at least knew why; even though Sir Kay was a patient teacher, and she did truly try to listen (Mother had taught her more than enough times the price of losing focus), she'd have definitely had an easier time understanding if Jaune had been there with her.

After all, he'd not only managed to get a hang of all that useless crap Agravain had drilled into them, but he'd also helped simplify and explain it in terms she could actually understand.

... for some reason, as she remembered the simpler, happier times, she could feel her face warming and her chest growing tighter.

She couldn't imagine why, though; her unique constitution should've prevented any such abnormalities...

Groaning, she shook her head, deciding to ignore it for the time being; after all, what kind of Knight or King got sick, or let a little warmness and tightness stop them?

As she slowly pushed herself off of the stone sill, however, her ears perked up at the sound of heavy footfalls, and she looked up to see a pair of enforcement knights briskly marching somewhere, whispering something about a patrol failing to return from around the dungeons, and to quickly gather reinforcements, inform Sir Kay, and investigate as per protocol.

She couldn't help but scowl at the mention of Camelot's dungeons, reminded of two of the people she least wanted to see.

She may have still not been on the best of terms with her father yet, but Guinevere's actions frankly disgusted her; surely as the Queen she knew how much of a burden the King was forced to bear for the Kingdom's sake! How could still she break her sacred oaths of matrimony and betray the man she'd wed?

As for her elder sister, she still hadn't forgiven her, both for failing to support Jaune when he'd been accused by Agravain and for even having dared to imply she doubted her squire.

But even as she felt the urge to simply ignore it (surely her perfect older sister could guard one prisoner, right?), she still found herself preparing to make her way to the dungeons.

After all, it was only a short distance from where she was, and as one of the people in charge of Camelot she was supposed to check it out, and she didn't need to talk to Gareth or Guinevere while she was there, and her squire would've gone in as soon as he heard something was wrong...

Then she got to the dungeons, and immediately picked up her pace, recognizing the signs of a forced entry (one of Mother's favorite methods of instilling constant vigilance into her had been to occasionally release some of her more stealthy experiments into her quarters while she'd been out training).

Of course, it was probably still nothing, just some angry knights who wanted to kill the Queen again; honestly, she didn't really care whether Guinevere lived, considering the severity of her crimes, but Father had made his decision.

And then she reached the guards' quarters, just in time to see Lancelot reaching for Gareth's unguarded and unhelmeted head.

There was no hesitation as she charged at Lancelot, her inhuman body and enhanced strength and speed allowing her to close the distance faster than any normal human, sword already poised to chop Lancelot's hands off.

She didn't succeed, nor had she expected to; even in his disgraced state, Lancelot was still the First of the Round Table, and he was more than able to notice her attack and step back.

But it had the intended effect of preventing him from hurting Gareth, and even as he launched a quick kick at her as she passed in front of him, she was already shifting her sword, and managed to meet his armored foot with the flat of her blade.

"Sir Mordred?" Gareth's surprised voice reached Mordred's ears, and she couldn't help but click her tongue in irritation and tune her out, never taking her eyes off of Lancelot all the while.

Seriously, what kind of stupid squire, what kind of insane, irrational, idiot, just stood there, unresisting, as their mentor almost killed them?!

And more importantly...

Her only friend, the only person who'd ever truly trusted and believed in her, lay defeated beneath her, his face scrunched up in pain and apprehension, his closed eyes hiding his gentle blue orbs as he helplessly anticipated her final blow...

"What kind of knight," Mordred snarled, a cold fury seeping into her tone as a memory rose to the surface, "almost kills his own defenseless squire with his bare hands?!"

Lancelot didn't reply, but instead drew Arondight, and raised it into a guard stance.

Mordred didn't waste another word on him, but instead charged at him once again.

Neither of the pair fought like they normally would have one another; there was no longer any honor to be found in Lancelot's actions, not after he'd betrayed his king and murdered his brothers-in-arms, nor would Mordred show him even the barest hint of restraint, and even as they crossed blades at speeds even Gareth could barely keep up with, each strike of their swords was more often than not accompanied by an elbow, a knee, a fist, a foot.

But in the end, even though Mordred had been trained all her life by Morgan, and even though she had an inhuman strength, speed, and endurance, Lancelot was still the First of the Round Table, whose experience easily eclipsed Mordred's, and who had slain many inhuman foes.

More importantly, where Mordred may have had a steel sword of superb quality, Lancelot wielded Arondight, and even if he was no longer a perfect knight worthy of the Holy and Unfading Light of the Lake, it was still a divine construct capable of receiving any attack without sustaining even a scratch.

It took almost a quarter of an hour, but eventually, as Mordred parried a thrust from Lancelot, and the latter attempted to use his sword's crossguard and superior reach to wrench her sword from her grasp, the abused steel finally gave way, and the blade snapped.

Before Lancelot could begin to capitalize on his newfound advantage, however, the sound of numerous heavy footfalls gave them all pause, and a dozen enforcement knights charged into the room, led by Kay, all of them with their weapons raised.

"Lancelot," Kay greeted his former friend curtly even as he looked him over, taking note of just how far he'd fallen since they'd last met.

Lancelot's only response was to tighten his grip on his blade as he looked around, judging the situation.

Kay sighed and shook his head, before addressing Gareth: "Sir Gareth, please escort Guinevere out here, now."

This finally elicited words from Lancelot, and even as Gareth heistantly moved to obey he growled: "If you dare harm her, or even think about using her as a hostage, I swear I'll-"

"You'll what, kill more knights of Camelot?" Kay retorted with disgust. "Stain your name and honor even further? Do you think Guinevere would want this?"

"Of course not!" Lancelot spat furiously. "But I could never abandon the hand of the woman I love when she is imperiled! Or would you expect me to turn a blind eye as your knights make attempts on her life, all while she's helpless to defend herself!"

"Imperiled?" Kay echoed incredulously, and scoffed: "You, of all people, should know of the King's true intentions."

"How could I not," Lancelot laughed hollowly, madness and self-loathing coloring his tone. "After all, I took advantage of his wife's loneliness, betrayed him, committed adultery, and when discovered killed his knights, including his own nephew, and fled justice!"

"... for all the time you've spent in his service, Lancelot," Kay shook his head, "even you can be blind to his heart."

"The perfect King, who exists solely for his Kingdom's sake?" Lancelot countered mockingly, though it was directed as much at himself as it was at the others in the room. Guinevere had told him of the King's true identity, and how much she'd truly denied herself, all for the sake of the island of Britain.

How could such a King even hesitate to punish such severe and clear-cut crimes, especially from her own Queen and the First of her Round Table?

Then, to Lancelot's surprise, instead of responding, Kay simply withdrew a scroll from a pouch (one that he'd found between notes about Athenian governance and pre-Imperial Roman Senates, and a parchment about farming techniques and crop yields), and tossed it to him.

"See for yourself, then," Kay challenged, as Lancelot eyed it warily.

"What... what is this?" Lancelot asked, unable to keep the suspicion from his voice.

"The King's official pardon, to you and Guinevere," Kay explained, eliciting incredulous whispers from everyone in the room, even the enforcement knights watching Lancelot, and as Gareth brought a concerned and confused Guinevere into the room Kay began barking instructions: "Knights, stand down. Lancelot, take Guinevere and go, and never return."

Guinevere hesitantly approached Lancelot once her shackles had been removed, unable to help but look around the room, and even as Lancelot wrapped the arm holding the scroll around Guinevere he too glanced between the scroll, Guinevere, Kay, and the exit.

Then the enforcement knights finally, reluctantly, lowered their arms (though Mordred did not), and Lancelot began cautiously moving, bringing Guinevere with him.

"Remember,' Kay repeated, "never let me see either of your faces, ever again."

The pair picked up the pace as they reached the exit without incident, though none took their eyes off of them, before Lancelot, apparently satisfied that it wasn't some elaborate scheme, scooped Guinevere into his arms and fled, presumably before anybody could change their mind.

Finally, once they were no longer visible, someone carefully asked: "Sir Kay... was that wise?"

"Probably not," Kay shrugged casually, "but it was the King's wishes."

"Tch," Mordred quietly clicked her tongue as she looked between her broken sword and Gareth.

Kay could tell what everyone (except maybe Beaumains) was thinking, but if they believed that had been leniency, then they were as naive as his sister.

-LANCELOT'S DEMENSE, A FEW HOURS LATER-

The queen's cheeks were stained with tear streaks, and even in her restless slumber her mouth moved constantly, apologizing to Artoria even in her dreams.

Lancelot wasn't in a much better shape, seated as he was on the bed by his lover's side, unable to wipe away her tears with his uncouth hands, still reeling as he was from the letter of pardon he'd read, still feeling as though something within him was crumbling apart as he kept turning the words over in his mind:

"Lancelot, my friend, my pride, my ideal knight, you have proven yourself dedicated to chivalry time and time again, always caring for justice, honoring women, and loathing evil. Countless are the times that we have fought alongside one another in the name of justice and the realm, and countless are the times that your strength and bravery have saved both the lives and the spirits of the men that have followed us. Both I and the realm know that you are a person that will only act in a way you deem just and good.

"And that is why, while I cannot condone your actions when Agravain publcized your relationship, if you had seen fit to commit such actions, they must have good cause, and that you were sure of their justness, of that I am certain. Nor can I ignore the years you have spent in service to the realm, a realm that you despite not even hailing from have yet have adopted and accepted as your own.

"...

"Guinevere, my wife, my closest friend and confidant in Camelot, I have always acknowledged the burdens you have been forced to bear for the Kingdom; the knowledge of what you have been forced to sacrifice has always inspired me, given me the strength to continue to sacrifice for the Kingdom in turn, for what I have given up has always paled next to you.

"And that is why, when I was made aware of your affair, there was a part of me that did truly rejoice, glad in the knowledge that you had been able to finally find the love and happiness that you have always deserved, and that I have never been able to provide, and that it was in a man no lesser than Sir Lancelot was also a source of comfort, for I have the utmost faith that he will not mistreat you.

"Had you but told me of your growing feelings regarding Lancelot earlier, I would have done my best to be supportive, understanding, willing to discuss an arrangement for the three of us. As it stands, however, I am truly sorry that I had neglected you, failed to confront you and Lancelot earlier despite my own knowledge of your relationship with him, and my knowledge of the growing turmoil it was causing the both of you, until things came to a head with Agravain that day.

"...

"And thusly, in memory of both of your extensive records of services to the Kingdom and my own personal culpability in how events have transpired up until now, do I, King Arthur Pendragon, seek forgiveness from the two of you for my failures from the bottom of my heart, just as I sincerely forgive and henceforth pardon the two of you for your actions, and do give your relationship my blessing, as God is my witness."

Notes: I know this came a bit late, but Merry Christmas, and Merry Boxing Day. Y'know when I said we'll be getting to the one person in Camelot more depressed than Mordred? Yeah, while I meant Gareth, technically Lancelot and Guinevere could've also fulfilled that definition, but the former was also technically not in Camelot, and as for the latter... we also know basically nothing about Guinevere...

Also yeah, I'm more than aware that this'll probably be one of the more controversial chapters, but meh.

Anyway, as usual I'll begin... by discussing how things went in canon, and how they've changed here (and not the usual something somethings).

In canon, as far as I can tell (gotta love both FATE and Arthurian mythos for being self-contradictory), during this time (while Artoria was in Rome) Gareth would have been escorting Guinevere (who as per Garden of Avalon had been housed in a decrepit castle) to her execution, unarmed and unarmored as a show of protest, when Lancelot breaks in to rescue Guinevere (and crushing Gareth's skull, who was not only not resisting but physically incapable of putting up any kind of meaningful resistance against him, with his bare hands), after which the Lancelot snippet of the Garden of Avalon takes place.

As for why Guinevere was still being executed despite Artoria wanting to pardon them (and Lancelot knowing of said pardon)? It's... honestly unclear, at least as far as I've been able to tell from the TYPE-MOON wiki, but my best guess is that, after Lancelot killed so many of her knights (including her nephew) and fled, she basically had to do something to mollify her very angry nobles and knights, who'd just lost brothers, fathers, and sons because of Lancelot, and gave Guinevere a death sentence, as per the laws of the land... but one which was meant to be suspended indefinitely, possibly in the hopes of eventually reducing her sentence after some time had passed and everyone had forgotten about it.

And then Artoria left for Rome, leaving Kay (who at that point would've loathed Lancelot for what he did), Gawain (who at that point would've loathed Lancelot for killing Agravain), and Mordred (who at that point would've loathed Arthur for rejecting her as his son, as well as Lancelot and Guinevere for betraying her father, yes she's complicated) in charge.

If anybody had gotten the memo they'd have probably set it on fire, just to make sure nobody else knew about it.

Anyway, presumably it was Mordred (who canonically did also apparently taunt Guinevere, possibly including a fake marriage proposal) who used her authority as regent to schedule the execution, which is when Lancelot then breaks in, kills Gareth, and rescues Guinevere.

(As for why Gawain, Kay, or Mordred, who could've and would've fought Lancelot, weren't present? I'm also not too sure; they might have scheduled the execution to take place at the decrepit castle where Guinevere was being held, but I doubt they actually would have, considering how high-profile this execution was.)

Now, as for how things in FIIIP have went, Guinevere was only imprisoned indefinitely in Camelot, as much for her protection as out of justice, and Artoria plans on officially pardoning her and Lancelot (which, as also mentioned in this chapter has had the side effect of pissing off a lot of people. As for why Artoria's a lot more willing to ignore politics... who even knows?). Lancelot did not know that Artoria planned on pardoning him and Guinevere (and, as per Garden of Avalon, had actually expected to be punished for his disloyalty). Mordred's relationship with Artoria, while still far from good, is nowhere near as bad as it would be in canon now. And most of all, as per the end of this chapter, Gareth's survived Lancelot (and now has to deal with the fact that her mentor was completely willing to kill her in cold blood).

Yes, Gareth's section wasn't the longest, but too be fair she honestly didn't really change that much as compared to canon; she's loyal to a fault, such to the point that she refused to even defned herself against Lancelot, both in here and canon, and that section was more meant to show how she was feeling about everything that had happened (from her friend getting accused by Agravain, to her being torn between her loyalties to her friend and her family, to Jaune's departure, to her mentor getting accused by Agravain, to her being torn between her loyalties to her mentor and her family, to Lancelot's departure...). Though she would have at least drawn her own sword to protect Mordred after her blade snapped.

And before anybody complains about why there was a timeskip between this chapter and the previous one... well, did you really want a whole chapter dedicated to Kay's clumsy attempts to bond with his nephew, while also trying to figure out if said nephew is in fact a niece, all while said niece is having her first teenage angst?

As for Artoria's pardon... yeah, it's really clunky, focusing more on their past services and her own wrongdoings, but that's because, unlike in canon where she tried to forgive Lancelot before he fled (at least according to GoA), and unlike Scenario C (which hasn't been released yet) where he hasn't done anything beyond the affair yet, here the pardon's being written after he's already killed a bunch of knights, so here she has to do her best to try and sweep it under the rug if she wants the pardon to actually be acceptable to most people.