Chapter 11 - Frenzied Follow-Ups
Agravain could only stare incredulously at the pair kneeling in front of him for a moment as he processed what he'd just been asked, before he finally found his voice: "... are you serious, Mordred?"
"I have never been more serious about anything, Agravain," Mordred nodded firmly, before lowering her head and begging: "Please, you've got to teach us all that etiquette and manners crap!"
"I don't..." Agravain pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at Mordred's squire, before looking back at his youngest sibling and asking: "Mordred... what on earth brought this about?"
"Uh, you're the one who told me how much I messed up, remember?" Mordred cocked her head in confusion at her brother. "And there's no way I can teach him what he needs to know before His Majesty returns, since Mother never-"
"Mordred!" Agravain hissed, quickly interrupting Mordred before she could reveal anything about her circumstances. Sure, as much as he opposed Morgan's plans, he neither wanted his siblings to be suspect of treason nor for them to be subject to their mother's ire.
"... oops..." Mordred quickly covered her mouth, looking as sheepish as she could without her face being visible.
Agravain could only sigh and glance between his idiot meathead of a youngest sister and her squire, all the while wondering what in God's name had happened in the hour or two it had been since they'd last talked.
Sure, he'd anticipated something happening, since he'd made sure to phrase his statements in a way that Mordred couldn't simply ignore or shrug off and had only released her once she'd seemed suitably chastised, and he knew his sister was ultimately a good person at heart.
But his calculations had only predicted something along the lines of Mordred privately asking him to tutor her squire, or asking for tips on how to do it!
Not... well... not openly begging him for help (and right in front of her own squire no less!), or asking him to teach her as well!
Seriously, what on earth happened?!
As he looked back down at his sister, a sigh escaped his lips, before they twitched into a short smile.
Even if he had no idea what had happened, it didn't change the fact that his sister, Mordred the Stubborn, was both openly admitting that she had messed up, and was asking him for help.
And if Mordred the Brash and Impetuous was willing to swallow her pride... how could he possibly refuse her?
"... I'll see what I can do," Agravain finally answered, struggling to keep the familial pride out of his voice.
"Yes!" Mordred pumped her fist victoriously as she grinned up at him. "I won't let you down, I pro-"
Before she could celebrate, however, Agravain continued: "But! I can't make any promises, Mordred; I'm not a miracle worker. I have at most one month to teach the both of you everything you need to know, and I cannot afford to neglect my duties to Camelot to assist you. So there will be absolutely no complaints or talking back; when I tell you to do something, you do it. Understood?"
Mordred and Jaune both gulped and nodded, eliciting a smile from Agravain.
"Then let's begin."
-ONE GRUELLING TRAINING SESSION LATER-
"Ugh... who on earth decided that knights need to know this useless crap..." Mordred bitterly grumbled as she massaged her aching temples with one hand and held a cup in another. Sure, she knew it was important (considering how many times it had been explained to her that day alone, it was hardly a remarkable feat of deduction), but that didn't mean she had to like it!
"There, there, Sir Mordred..." Jaune placed a hand comfortingly on his mentor's shoulder as she second-guessed her decision for the hundredth time that day. "You didn't do too badly, for your first time..."
"Really?" Mordred perked up and looked at her squire hopefully, before remembering just how he'd performed during their joint training session. Folding her arms sulkily, she huffed: "I don't want to hear that from you, squire! I thought you told me you didn't have any experience with this sort of thing!"
"But I really don't!" Jaune quickly defended himself as he backed up fractionally. "You know my world... the kingdom I come from, doesn't have any royalty or nobility to speak of!"
"Then how come you could do it so easily?!" Mordred glared at her squire. "How come you could talk in that flowery long-winded way or dance or-"
"I get it, I get it already," Jaune held up his hand placatingly, before sighing in relief as his mentor relaxed slightly. Looking up at the sky, he explained: "I wasn't lying, and this isn't the kind of thing they'd teach us in Beacon anyway. But, you see... I have seven sisters."
"Seven sisters?" Mordred echoed, before cocking her head in confusion. "What's that have to do with anything?"
"So, they'd force me to be a servant while they were all princesses!" Jaune explained triumphantly, like it explained everything.
"Wait, I thought you said your kingdom doesn't have royalty?" Mordred blinked.
"We don't," Jaune confirmed. "We were just playing pretend."
"... I don't get it," Mordred finally sighed and shrugged. "I never did anything like that during my childhood..."
"Mmm, yeah, I guess I can see that..." Jaune rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, wondering if he was being insensitive. "I mean, I can't imagine Agravain ever playing pretend like that..."
"Eh?" Mordred blinked, feeling a chill go down her spine.
"But I can see Gareth acting like my sisters," Jaune laughed, before realizing Mordred's unusual behavior. "Is something wrong, Sir Mordred?"
"What do Agravain and Gareth have to do with this?" Mordred asked nervously.
"Uh... I mean... they're your brother and sister, aren't they?" Jaune cocked his head at Mordred.
"..." Mordred was silent for a moment, before demanding: "How did you know that?"
"Woah, hold on!" Jaune quickly held his hands up again. "You told me that, remember?"
"I did?" Mordred repeated dumbly. "Since when?!"
"You mentioned it just now," Jaune reminded his mentor. "You know, when you said something about brother being right, and then told me that you'd just met with Agravain? Honestly, in hindsight it really wasn't that surprising, considering you seem to hang out with him more than with anyone else in Camelot..."
"..." Mordred could feel her stomach sinking.
"And you mentioned that Gareth was supposed to be my mentor," Jaune continued on, oblivious to his mentor's growing discomfort. "And then you mentioned that you became my mentor instead because you wanted to get one over your sister-"
"Okay, I get it!" Mordred quickly cut in even as she buried her head in her hands and wished for a hole to spontaneously appear under her and just swallow her up. God, why did her squire have to have a brain? And why did he have to bring that conversation up?!
As Mordred was torn between embarrassment over recalling her conduct earlier that day and dread as she imagined Agravain and Mother finding out she'd spilled the secret, Jaune finally noticed just how uncomfortable Mordred was getting, and he quickly backed up: "Oh, shit, I am so sorry!"
"Just... just drop it, alright?" Mordred snapped at him, before sighing and hugging her knees.
"... was I not supposed to know about it?" Jaune tentatively asked.
"Nobody is," Mordred huffed. "Not even Gareth. Only Agravain does..."
"... oh," Jaune could only say, before the pair descended into an awkward silence, where Mordred cursed herself for failing to keep the secret a secret and Jaune spent a moment wondering just how complicated Mordred's life was.
At the very least, it did explain why Gareth, who'd talked to him enthusiastically about her three older brothers, had never once mentioned Sir Mordred in similar terms.
Finally, though, he broke the silence by cautiously speaking up: "... I'm sorry, Sir Mordred. I shouldn't have pried."
"... you'd better be," Mordred sulked.
"Just... if you ever want to talk about it..." Jaune offered quietly.
"I don't."
"... I mean... that's what friends are for, alright?"
"..." Mordred fixed her gloomy-looking squire with a look, before moving on: "Let's just get back to the original topic, alright? ... what were we talking about again?"
"Hmmm..." Jaune hummed thoughtfully, playing along. "I was telling you about my seven sisters?"
"Right, right..." Mordred nodded absent-mindedly, grateful to her squire for taking the bait. "So, what does playing pretend have to do with knowing all that stupid bullshit?"
"Ummm, well, you see..." Jaune spent a moment trying to figure out how to make his statement actually believable. "So, all the things they had me learn? It turns out it's all very similar to the manners you guys teach here!"
"... seriously?" Mordred didn't even bother hiding her incredulity.
"I guess manners in front of royals are just universal or something," Jaune shrugged. "But yeah... that's really the only reason why I managed to follow Sir Agravain's lessons, Sir Mordred. Just sheer dumb luck. It's not because you're a worse knight or anything..."
"Tch," Mordred clicked her tongue and looked away. "That wasn't what I was thinking, squire."
Jaune could only smile with fond exasperation even as he held his hands up placatingly. After a moment of silence, he offered: "You know... if you want... after we do our usual combat training, I can give you some help with this etiquette training?"
As Mordred turned to him with her expressionless helmet, Jaune hastily followed up: "I mean, I did say we'd figure them out together, right? Arc's word, and an Arc never goes back on his word, least of all to a friend."
"... don't get cocky, squire," Mordred answered, before a smile graced her lips, unseen but not unheard by her squire: "You think you'll even be able to move after our next session? Now that I know you're lacking in combat training, you've got to be insane if you think our future sessions will be as easy as they've been so far!"
-A FEW WEEKS LATER-
An oppressive silence filled the room as Lancelot and Agravain focused on the pair as they showed the fruits of their labor.
Finally, as they concluded their display, the silence with a polite round of applause, before Agravain spoke up: "So, Sir Lancelot, as the First of the Round Table, how would you rate them?"
"..." Lancelot thought it over for a moment, before a smile graced his features. "I would give them a passing grade, Sir Agravain."
"YES!"
"Don't get too cocky just yet, Mordred!" Agravain immediately snapped sternly. "You were merely adequate at best! Such a performance is to be expected of any knight!"
"Oh, come on!" Mordred pouted furiously at her brother, though it remained unseen underneath her helmet.
"There, there, Sir Mordred..." Jaune placed a hand comfortingly on his mentor's shoulder.
"Are you not being too harsh on them, Sir Agravain?" Lancelot inquired. "They display a marked improvement as compared to when Squire Jaune first arrived in Camelot. Does that not deserve praise?"
"Tch," Agravain merely clicked his tongue and looked away, the memories of just how much effort it had taken to wrangle Mordred and her squire (especially his sister) into something with the semblance of presentable still fresh in his mind. "After how much they put me through, that display was the bare minimum!"
Lancelot could only smile at his fellow Knight of the Round Table, knowing that, from Iron Agravin the Executive, that was praise. Placing a supportive hand on his shoulder, Lancelot said: "You have my sincere respect for everything you've done, Sir Agravain. I cannot imagine it was an easy task..."
"Well, they'd better not screw up in front of His Majesty tonight," Agravain sniffed haughtily, though Lancelot knew that it was the equivalent of quiet support, coming from him.
"I'm sure they'll be fine, Sir Agravain," Lancelot reassured him, before continuing: "And speaking of tonight... how go the preparations?"
"The cooks have been busy all morning, and the servants spent the whole of yesterday cleaning the castle and polishing the silver," Agravain reflexively answered, slipping into his role as Secretary of the Round Table. "Her Highness Queen Guinevere is currently performing a final inspection, and the men have already begun organizing themselves along the route from the North Gate to the castle. His Majesty and the army should enter the city before midday, so we still have two hours before we are required to await His Majesty's arrival at the Entrance Hall."
"Splendid!" Lancelot nodded gratefully to Agravain, taking his word for it. "Thank you as always, Sir Agravain. Then, shall we go to freshen up before his arrival?"
Agravain nodded, but before turning to leave he addressed the pair: "Mordred, Squire Jaune! Dismissed! Go and freshen up before the King arrives, and don't do anything to embarrass yourself, Mordred!"
"Yeah, yeah..." Mordred just rolled her eyes at her brother, before gripping her squire by the arm and dashing off. "Come on, Jaune! I can't wait for you to see the King..."
"..." Lancelot watched the pair depart in silence, before turning to Agravain and asking: "... Sir Agravain?"
"What is it, Lancelot?"
"... it's nothing, Sir Agravain," Lancelot dropped the subject, deciding that he'd merely been imagining things.
Agravain knew what Lancelot was thinking, but decided not to correct his misunderstanding.
After all, even he would have had his arm ripped off by his sister if he'd tried comforting her with physical contact, to say nothing of the sheer absurdity one would feel from seeing Mordred in her usual armor chattering excitedly under her breath with another person.
Author's Notes: Something something absolutely loathe dialogue something something rewrote it twice something something.
Just a quick note; the first section takes place just after the previous chapter. Mordred may have opened up to Jaune in the previous chapter, but that doesn't mean she's immediately going to tell him everything, especially not the things Morgan told her to keep secret.
After the time skip, though... well, that's for another chapter.
Also yes, the next few chapters are going to be very similar to ATDITW, because we are eco-friendly here and we practice reusing and recycling!
... jokes aside, I really don't have a reason not to reuse most of it, and I'm lazy, so...
Also, someone gave an excellent suggestion regarding the previous chapter that I think deserves to be addressed. Essentially, instead of my usual hand-waving "leave it up to the readers' imagination", I could have shown Mordred's increasing frustration and waning self-confidence as she was slowly worn down by her own squire.
Why I didn't, though, is simple: a) I didn't think of it then, and I don't do rewrites (if not I'd have already redone Jaune's encounter with Morgan in ATDITW, and believe me, I really do want to), b) I'm lazy, and c) I already felt like I was being way too cruel to Mordred with what I'd already done. Certainly, going even further than that would have given the moment between Jaune and Mordred a much greater emotional impact, but I'd have probably actually shed a tear for Mordred if I went any further (especially since Mordred really doesn't deserve it)...
But hey, I'll bear it in mind for next time. Or someone who wants to tackle a story like this can use the idea.
And shout-out and thanks to the guy who dropped me a tip over at ko-fi, and I'm sorry that I'm probably going to waste your money by leaving it in my bank account...
Next chapter won't be coming out anytime soon, though; my mini-vacation after finishing my army duties is over, and I'm back to my full-time job.