Chapter 29 - Related Requests

A tense silence settled between the pair as Artoria watched her foster brother with apprehension, knowing full well from Kay's own gaze upon her person exactly just what thoughts were running through his own head.

After all, she'd been on the receiving end of his inquisitive mind and sharp tongue oft enough, having grown up with him.

In all honesty, though, she couldn't blame him in the slightest; in the interest of time (and the honor of her knights current, former, and future), she'd been forced to give Kay the briefest of summaries regarding what had transpired in his absence, despite knowing full well that it would have only stoked the embers of his curiosity rather than quenching it.

But there had truly been too much that had happened in the past few seasons, even by the standards of Camelot, and as much as she may have wished to set aside some time to having a proper conversation with Kay, time was simply a luxury she could not afford, not with the goods and supplies they'd stockpiled, goods and supplies that wouldn't last.

In fact, a part of her had begun to worry that Kay wouldn't have made it to Camelot before she'd have had to depart for the continent, and thusly wouldn't be able to make her request to him in person (not to mention the possibility of Mordred's return from Cornwall being delayed); she'd made plans for that eventuality, of course, prepared letters for Kay and Mordred explaining the situation and their respective roles, but there was only so much space on a parchment, and she'd have doubtlessly been unable to answer every question Mordred and Kay would have had (especially Kay).

Regardless, such concerns had fortunately not been necessary, and she instead now had to contend with a curious Kay (a foe almost as formidable, in her private opinion).

Artoria's mind raced as she observed the way Kay's eyes darted between the door, the window, and her own person, knowing him well enough to know that he was still ruminating on her latest warning, running through their entire previous conversation in his head for anything she'd mentioned or let slip that would provide some context, and calculating how much time they had before the messenger returned with Mordred.

After all, skilled as he may have been with his words, he'd barely had any interactions with the new Knight of the Round Table (which, to be fair, was not a slight against him; as far as Artoria knew, there existed only four individuals in the world that Mordred would actually willingly interact with for extended periods of time (and of those, three shared her blood; she hesitated to use the word "family", considering her absence in Mordred's childhood, her sister's... sub-standard rearing of her youngest, and after what Agravain had done to Jaune she was reasonably sure Mordred had all but renounced any relations with him before his death), and Kay was certainly not among that number), and he was more than self-aware enough to know that, and that things would probably not go well if he were to be caught discussing a topic that Artoria herself had warned him, in no uncertain terms, was sensitive to Mordred (let alone trying to discuss it personally with a Knight with the title "The Brash").

Which meant that, if he wanted to sate his curiosity...

"So, Artoria," Kay finally began, and she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, already knowing what his next words would be. "What can you tell me about Mordred's squire? How did Mordred even get a squire? And why did Agravain accuse him of being an otherworldly infiltrator trying to hoodwink you?"

"To begin with, his name is Jaune Arc," Artoria answered, seeing no harm in responding to his blatant and transparent attempts at fishing for information with openness and honesty. After all, better that he hear it from her than from another, less objective source once his patience ran out (even though the general consensus around Camelot was far more sympathetic to him than when he'd left, he was still a divisive figure, and no small number of people (like Gawain) still viewed him with suspicion), and in any case he'd certainly find out about Mordred's mysterious squire once Jaune was back in Camelot and officially reinstated with a pardon, when either Merlin had been found or, more likely, in a few seasons' time.

"Doesn't sound like he's Brittonic," Kay observed off-handedly. Sure, "John" was hardly uncommon throughout Old Imperial lands, but he'd neither heard of a settlement called "Arc", nor was he familiar with any family or profession that possessed such a name.

"He indeed is not from our lands," Artoria confirmed, before giving him a half-truth (as much as she may have hated lying to her foster brother (even if it was but a small lie of omission), Jaune's story wasn't for her to share, not even to Kay): "Jaune hails from a faraway Kingdom known as Vale, a distant land not known to even the old Empire.

"As for how he became Mordred's squire... I will preface this by saying that I was on campaign when he encountered Mordred, Lancelot, and Gareth in Snowdonia, and only met him after he had already been under Mordred's unofficial tutelage for a few months, but as far as I have been told, Jaune woke up in Snowdonia after almost falling in battle, and chanced upon Mordred while he was attempting to slay the Addanc, during which time he distinguished himself in both character and combat skill by assisting Mordred in his task."

Even as Artoria continued relaying Jaune's tale to Kay (or at least, those parts that she could share), of how he'd ended up earning Lancelot's and Gareth's respect as well and had been subsequently brought to Camelot, of his first months in the castle as Mordred's unofficial squire, and the months that followed, a small part of her couldn't help but think about the squire in question.

Of all he'd done for her, for Mordred, and for Camelot... and all that had been done to him.

Before she could allow those thoughts to occupy any more of her mind, however (before she could begin once again wondering about what could have happened if she'd successfully convinced him to stay that night), she banished them forcefully, refusing to indulge in them.

Even disregarding what some people could have been driven to do in their paranoia and suspicions, she'd meant it when she'd said she'd understood his thoughts, why he'd decided to effect his departure.

His conscience would not allow him to stand by and watch as others suffered for his sake, and hers would not allow her to ask him to do so.

... though he could have at least hinted his intentions to his mentor before his departure...

Then again, had he tried Mordred would have almost certainly forced him to stay, so it was perhaps understandable that he'd avoided letting Mordred know of his intended actions.

... but still, that had left her, Gareth, and the other remaining Knights of the Round Table around that day to stop Mordred from leaving the castle and hunting down his wayward squire... and then to stop Mordred from trying to kill Agravain after that...

Not to mention Mordred's fury at her for not letting him chase after Jaune...

"As for why Jaune was accused by Agravain..." Artoria refoucsed her attention towards her brother as she finished answering his questions. "He possesses a unique form of magecraft, one that allows him to heal others, but which Morgan considered wholly unnatural. Between her suspicions, Jaune's homelands not being known to any records we possess, and Agravain's innate paranoia..."

"... yeah, that makes sense..." Kay conceded, digesting everything he'd been told (and hadn't; Artoria may have gotten a lot better at maintaining a stoic facade, but even if he hadn't known her for over three decades, he'd still spent enough time playing politics to read a little between the lines).

At the very least, it was clear from the way she spoke that his sister held a certain fondness for the squire in question, enough to completely write off the concerns of her own nephew, chancellor, and spymaster, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why that was so.

"You certainly seem convinced of his innocence," Kay casually remarked after a few moments.

"I am completely confident that Jaune Arc held no ill intentions towards me and Camelot," Artoria nodded.

"And what makes you say that?" Kay inquired innocently.

"Because he has had ample opportunity to do so," Artoria explained, not fooled for a second, "but has not only failed to engage in any sabotage of the realm, but has actively worked in service of it in his short time in Camelot."

And before Kay could even attempt to play devil's advocate, suggesting that it may all be part of a long-running ploy to earn her trust for a final decisive strike, Artoria preemptively sated his curiosity: "One of his services was in assisting me in preparing for a private confrontation between Guinevere and Lancelot, and myself, before Agravain's actions made such a resolution unfeasible."

"... he... knew?" Kay couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"I informed him personally, before requesting his assistance and silence on the matter," Artoria nodded. "Hence why I said he has had ample opportunity to cause harm to myself and Camelot; can you think of any easier way to mislead me?"

"... and you're certain that his advice would have worked?" Kay asked skeptically.

"You can see the results of our many nights of practice for yourself," Artoria gestured to one of the shelves behind her, unable to fully suppress the sad smile that crossed her face.

Truly, had Agravain waited but two days, such a herculean effort would not have gone to waste, but she refused to allow herself to dwell on such thoughts.

At least she'd been able to salvage portions of their work, to be used in crafting Lancelot's and Guinevere's official pardon...

Before she could grab the parchment that had endured much scribbling and scratching from her quill, however, there was another knock on the door, and she immediately slipped back into her role as the Perfect King, responding with a kind yet regal: "You may speak."

"Your Majesty, I have Sir Mordred with me," the same voice from earlier spoke up.

"You may bring him in," Artoria allowed.

Kay, for his part, couldn't help but swear, both at the facade his sister adopted and the horrible timing of Sir Mordred.

After all, he'd been more than able to notice that Artoria had both mentioned "one of his services", and that she had personally confided in this John the details her wife's affair, which implied that he had already done something to earn her trust before she'd found out about Guinevere's infidelity.

And not just that, but that he'd earned enough of it that his lousy sister had then even gone on to actually, willingly, ask him for advice too!

Even as the thick doors began to open, Kay's mind was like a thoroughbred stallion on a gallop, thoroughly reviewing both what he'd heard of Camelot in the past year as well as his entire conversation with Artoria, trying to look for any hints, any clues as to what it could have been.

Alas, there just wasn't anything solid enough for him to come to a conclusion.

He still speculated, of course; it was easy enough to guess that John had definitely aided Gareth and Mordred, considering the rumors flying around, but what he could have done that would have earned Artoria's attention hence was beyond him.

Had it perhaps to do with the Addanc's demise?

Tristan's departure?

Mordred's outburst?

Perhaps, it had to do with why Artoria wanted him to teach Mordred-

Then the Knight of the Round Table in question entered the room, and any thoughts of his unknown squire immediately disappeared.

Kay could count the number of times he'd actually met Sir Mordred with two hands (and still have a few fingers to spare), but from what he could remember of the young knight, even though every inch of him had always been covered in steel, there'd always been an admiration and respect for Artoria that had been obvious from the way he moved and spoke, and even if it hadn't extended to his fellow Knights of the Round Table, Kay had never doubted that his loyalty and eagerness to serve the King.

The armored figure that trudged into the room possessed precisely none of that.

There was a stiffness in his gait, and not the kind born of nervousness, before he brought himself to a halt in front of them while the knight that had allowed him entrance closed the doors behind him, leaving the three of them alone in Artoria's study.

And where Sir Mordred had once comported himself with pride in front of Artoria, Kay instead saw a restrained tension in how Mordred carried himself now, not unlike a drawn bowstring.

"You summoned me, Your Highness?" Mordred spoke first, and it was this, more than anything, that had Kay's well-honed instincts screaming at him.

Forget reverence or respect; there wasn't even any attempt to hide the irritation in Mordred's tone.

And was that an undercurrent of hostility he detected?

Towards Artoria?

Just what in the Lord's name had happened between them, and why on earth did she want him to teach him how to manage the Kingdom's affairs?!

"I did, Sir Mordred," Artoria simply replied, showing no surprise at Mordred's conduct, though Kay was barely able to pick up the faintest traces of disappointment. "But firstly, how was your mission to Cornwall?"

"Count and his rebel forces were destroyed," Mordred answered bluntly.

"Though I wish it had not been necessary, you have my thanks for your service."

"Is that all you needed from me?" Mordred coldly brushed off Artoria's praise.

Kay surreptitiously glanced between the pair, wondering when Mordred had been replaced by a poor excuse for an imposter, and why Artoria didn't seem to be giving a damn.

Artoria, for her part, could only sigh, before answering her child: "I apologize, Sir Mordred, but there is yet one more thing that I must ask of you."

Mordred merely huffed in acknowledgement and crossed his arms in response, waiting impatiently for his next assignment.

"I would like you to learn stewardship and managing the affairs of the kingdom under Sir Kay's tutelage."

Whatever Mordred had been expecting, it clearly hadn't been that, and his arms fell to his sides in shock as he choked out in disbelief: "M-me?"

"Yes," Artoria confirmed.

Silence subsequently followed, as Mordred stared at Artoria, before asking the question Kay had been wanting an answer to ever since Artoria had asked the same of him: "Why?"

"Because I will be leaving for a campaign across the seas, to neutralize a foreign threat rising in the heart of the Old Empire," Artoria explained patiently, "and I would like to at least grant you the chance to acquire the capacity of a King, as is my paternal duty."

A small part of Kay felt that it was lucky he'd been already sitting down, and hadn't been partaking in any drinking at that particular moment.

The rest of him, however, was occupied trying to process what he'd just heard, and his head shot rapidly between his diminutive foster sister and the diminutive armored Knight of the Round Table even as he couldn't help from exclaiming his absolute disbelief: "What?!"

Mordred's helmet turned towards him, as if he'd just noticed him, but Kay was still too busy trying to figure out how in God's name Mordred could be Artoria's son to even notice.

Sure, he remembered Merlin and Artoria discussing the whole issue of the High King being unable to sire an heir almost a decade ago (on grounds of both her and her wife being female and all), but if Merlin had somehow been able to find a solution to that issue, then why hadn't they ever announced it?

Moreover, why had Artoria raised such a brutish and short-tempered knight like Mordred?

And most confusingly, as far as he could tell, Mordred seemed to be around the same age as Gareth... which would still make him years older than that aforementioned discussion about Artoria's inability to sire an heir.

"Mordred, would you kindly remove your helmet?" Artoria gently requested, knowing there was no faster way of confirming the truth than that.

After all, that had been how she'd been convinced beyond any doubt, too.

Mordred turned back to her uncertainly, and glanced once more at Kay, before hesitantly raising his hands up towards the base of his distinctive horned helmet, and pulling up.

Kay's jaw dropped, as his sister's face looked between him and Artoria with barely-hidden nervousness.

Well, at the very least, he could definitely believe that Mordred was Artoria's child.

That only left a thousand more questions unanswered, though.

As he gave his honorary nephew's face a second look, however (and third, and fourth, and fifth), he began to be able to notice some of the small differences that distinguished Mordred from Artoria, from the lack of a certain unruly lock of hair to how the former had his hair tied loosely in a simple ponytail while his sister wore hers in a neat bun.

If he had to name the biggest difference, however, it would have to be their eyes.

Both may have been a vibrant green, but Artoria's had always had a certain spark to them, from when she'd first been brought to Sir Ector's house and up til even now, exhausted and occupied as she was.

Then his sister dropped yet another revelation as she formally introduced her heir: "Kay, this is Mordred, a child born of me and Morgan le Fay."

Kay didn't insult his sister by asking her to repeat that statement, but it was a close thing, and he still met Artoria's eyes searchingly, seeking confirmation that Artoria had really just told him she'd had a child with her half-sister (and not Guinevere). Artoria noticed and gave a small nod in response.

Mordred, for his part, simply gave Kay a curt nod, before looking away, decidedly not meeting Artoria's eyes even as she addressed him once more: "So, Mordred, will you be willing to learn from Kay? I can assure you, Kay has little equal when it comes to such skills, and I am sure you will benefit greatly should you accept."

Mordred's lips curled slightly, and there was an awkward silence as he glanced between Kay and his father (or was it mother? Kay genuinely wasn't quite sure), before his shoulders slumped, and he reluctantly acquiesced: "... fine..."

"You have my thanks, Mordred," Artoria inclined her head to him, and Kay once again noticed just how unreceptive Mordred seemed to it. "Then, if you have no questions, you are free to take your leave; I am sure that you must be tired after your recent task."

Mordred replied with nothing more than yet another nod, before donning his helmet once more, and exiting the room.

Once he had closed the doors behind him, Artoria's shoulders slumped tiredly, and she turned to Kay before speaking with resignation: "Ask your questions, Kay."

Kay's curiosity unleashed itself like a dam bursting, much to Artoria's chagrin.

Most of Kay's concerns and suspicions had been on the mark, for the most part, as Artoria confirmed that she hadn't ever even known of being intimate with her half-sister (and still clearly found the very thought distressing and repulsive; considering everything Morgan had done and tried to do since she'd drawn Caliburn, he would have been very concerned if she'd had any other reaction), let alone of Mordred's existence until he'd come bearing a letter of introduction from Morgan around a year ago (he would have had some very pointed questions about her upbringing if he'd found out that Artoria had had a hand in raising Mordred the way he had been), that Mordred himself was innocent and should not be held accountable for what Morgan had done and planned to do (Mordred hadn't even been told of the identity of her father until two seasons ago, and had promptly informed Artoria once he'd found out. In fact, as far as Artoria could tell, the only people who knew of Mordred's parentage were Morgan, Agravain, her, Mordred's former squire, and now Kay, and Mordred's former squire had only found out from Mordred as well), and that Mordred's physical age did not match at all with his actual age (Artoria blamed Morgan for that, though she couldn't be sure without Merlin's confirmation).

But it was only as he heard Artoria recount Mordred's tales of his upbringing, of what Morgan had seemingly wanted him to do (kill the King and claim the throne, because of course her demented half-sister would think that Gawain being practically the next in line for the succession and Agravain being the Chancellor and Spymaster of Camelot just wasn't enough, and thusly needed to secretly sire the King's bastard son for the sake of regicide), and Artoria casually remarked that it was odd that Mordred had been raised with so much admiration for her and the ideals of chivalry despite her intended task, that a stray ominous thought struck Kay, one that he almost immediately dismissed out of hand on grounds of just how absurd it was.

Sure, he fully believed Morgan was more than heartless and cruel enough to do something like that, but there was just no way it was possible, right?

Sure, Mordred's voice was a bit high for a man's, and his face was quite feminine (and all but the spitting image of Artoria's), but there was just no way that Morgan had been so determined to replace Artoria that she'd replicated her as much as possible, down to that minor detail of forcing a girl to be raised as a man and to hide their true sex.

Surely not, right?

-MORDRED'S NEW ROOM, AROUND THE SAME TIME-

The bed creaked as Mordred collapsed backwards into it with a groan, scowling all the while as she thought about her meeting with her father.

A part of her had thought that it might have been easier after not seeing him for a few weeks, after dealing with the useless ingrates and parasites that infested the Kingdom and dared to rebel against him despite everything he did for them and the Kingdom.

And yet, as soon as she'd heard his voice and seen his face, all she'd been able to remember was how he'd not only refused to tell her anything about where her squire had disappeared to, but had even gone so far as to expressly forbid her from seeking him out...

A sigh escaped Mordred's lips, and she turned her head, such that she faced the window instead of the ceiling.

She knew that Father had been more than lenient with her in their interactions; if she'd acted that way towards Mother she'd have been on the floor writhing in pain and agony for hours.

And she knew that she should have been thrilled to be given the chance to earn Father's acknowledgement, she really did!

But she just couldn't find it within her to care about it in the least, for some reason.

In fact, she just didn't even want to see Father's face at all, let alone think about what he wanted from her.

After all, why did Father get to ask her to put down some rebels or run the Kingdom when he'd refused to listen to her at all?

It wasn't that she didn't have faith in Jaune (and the very fact that Gareth had even dared to suggest that had almost earned her perfect older sister a punch to her perfect little face); she'd trained him, sparred with him, spent the most time with him, and knew more than anyone else just how capable her squire really was.

But still, he was her squire, her responsibility, her friend!

How could they just expect her to abandon him like that?

Something squeezed in her chest, and the urge to just lash out, to strike something, anything, welled up within her

Before she could do anything rash, however, she remembered what had happened the last time she'd lost control, and instead took a deep breath.

At the very least, Father had assured her that Jaune had promised to return before next fall; the least she could do for him (and was apparently allowed to) was to not destroy his old room.

Mordred forced herself to hold on to that thought as she exhaled slowly.

Sure, she didn't understand why Jaune had left, why he hadn't told her, or why her Father had allowed him to leave without telling anybody... but Jaune would return, and she would get the answers out of him when he did, she swore to the Lord.

Until then, all she could do was wait, and do her duties as the Knight of the Round Table that had mentored him.

... including obeying her Father, and fighting the urge to punch a wall or storm off every time she saw his face...

"Forgiving him is the right thing to do, but that doesn't make it easy; you're only human, Sir Mordred."

"Tch. It'd be a lot easier if you were around, squire," Mordred huffed angrily as her dangling legs idly kicked the air, wondering what Jaune was doing right now, and why her chest felt so tight again.

Notes: Something something fear and loathe dialogue something something purge conversation in cleansing flame something something celebrated the 20th anniversary of the first FPS I ever owned something something Gotterdammerung, the Ratte, Fleet Subs are absolutely broken something something I ain't just drowning in work, they've fitted me with cement shoes too something something.

Now that we've gotten that customary Rambler opening out of the way, let's address this chapter, which was originally much shorter and part of the previous one... and how, considering how it turned out, it should hopefully be clear as to why I split it off and allowed it to... well... grow, for lack of a better word.

Like a tumor.

Anyway, firstly, as you may have noticed, we're not getting many segments from Jaune's POV for this arc. This is totally a deliberate design choice, meant to emphasize Jaune's absence from Camelot, with the mentions of him by others serving to show how he's still left a mark on Camelot and its inhabitants... or that's all bullshit I just made up on the fly (probably the latter).

If anybody's still curious, Chapter 27's first half was pretty demonstrative of what Jaune's been up to - living his best life wandering from village to village and helping those in need, missing his friends yet completely confident that they're fine without him.

And now let's talk about the chapter proper, and how things are... slightly less than fine in his absence.

Continuing on from Kay and Artoria in the previous chapter, the first part of the chapter was merely meant to reinforce the strength of their relationship with each other, with both of them being able to read one another easily and guess what the other is thinking, and especially how Artoria is open and honest with Kay in a way she could be with pretty much nobody else at this point in time (Merlin's still missing, Guinevere is very decidedly not in Artoria's confidence after she caught her cheating, even if she doesn't really hate her for it, and Jaune's gone).

Also, before anybody asks, Artoria is most certainly not an objective source when it comes to Jaune, and she's more than self-aware enough to not claim complete impartiality; she's just more objective than others in the castle (which really isn't saying much).

And now, after months both in-universe and out, we finally get back to Mordred.

Let me tell you, it wasn't easy in the slightest.

My initial plans and idea, back when my demented mind first concocted this part of the story all those years ago, was simply to have Mordred be pretty much just like she was in canon around this time - vehemently determined to destroy everything Artoria had ever built, albeit hidden by the thinnest veneer of politeness and civility in public that would have undoubtedly failed to fool Artoria in the slightest (though she'd presumably have just never understood how much keeping Jaune separated from her (or at least, that's how Mordred would have interpreted it) had driven a wedge between her and Mordred, similar to how she canonically seemingly never understood how badly Mordred had been hurt by her rejection until Camlann (considering that, canonically, she also allowed Mordred to run Camelot with Kay's help in her absence, despite Mordred having already ranted about hating her and destroying everything she represented)).

As one can clearly see, things simply didn't pan out that way, and as one can probably guess, we can "thank" the Pendragon family's emotional support butterfly for the changes. Gotta love when characters just start taking on lives of their own, and leaving poor innocent ramblers scrambling to figure out just how exactly they'd act in such situations. I swear, sometimes I feel more like a GM than a writer...

Anyway in the current story... to put it bluntly, while Mordred certainly can't forgive Artoria for stopping her from going after Jaune (like I said a few chapters back, Artoria would've followed the spirit of her oath and prevented anyone from chasing Jaune, including Mordred - it doesn't take a genius to figure out that Mordred would've pretty much beat him senseless before dragging him back to Camelot, and as amusing as the mental image of caveman Mordred dragging Jaune by his hair to her Cavelot may be, the point was that Artoria understood why Jaune wanted to leave, and would not have allowed even Mordred to undo his actions), she did still mostly reconcile with Artoria back in Chapter 18, and thusly still respects and loves her as her father and King, even if the image of perfection has been irreversibly tarnished.

And that's where things get hard to properly portray - between her love and respect for Artoria, and the way she was raised by Morgan (that bitch), the idea of simply disobeying Artoria's direct orders and going hunting for Jaune anyway is anathema to her.

But still, she deeply pines for her one and only friend, the only one in Camelot to ever be able to make her open up.

But still, she deeply worries for her one and only squire, who was abandoned by everybody else in Camelot, and who she hasn't heard news about for months.

But still, she deeply yearns to simply speak with Jaune once more, to understand what he felt, why he told her everything was fine, why he left her in the dead of the night without so much as a word, why she feels so conflicted about Agravain and Arthur, and most of all to know if he's alright.

But still, she can't understand why Artoria, her beloved father and respected liege, is causing her so much pain and hurt by stopping her from doing her duty to her friend and squire, and bringing him back to his rightfully-earned place as an honorable Knight (in-training) of Camelot; ironically enough, she'd have probably been hurt less if it had been Morgan who'd stopped her from looking for Jaune (which she honestly would have if Artoria hadn't first, but that's besides the point), as she'd have simply been able to shrug it off as just one more of the countless unpleasant things her Mother had done to her.

But still, she refuses to do anything that would disappoint Jaune, and so she endures.

Welcome to being a teenager, Mordred.

And before anybody asks, even though Mordred lacks the experience and maturity to understand and contextualize her feelings and emotions, she's still old enough to experience them, which makes her even more confused and irritable.

Once again, welcome to being a teenager, Mordred.

No idea when the next chapter's coming, but as far as I can tell it's probably going to look at the one person in Camelot who's even more down in the dumps than Mordred at the moment.