Disclaimer: I do not own Kingsman: The Secret Service, nor do I acquire monetary compensation for writing fanfiction like this.

A/N: Oh wow. I'm just… I love you guys. Thank you so much for all the support so far. I've been rather busy with work and going back to school, plus I've been battling bouts of writer's block at the same time, so this came much later than I wanted. But it's here now so yay! All 4032 words of it. To be fair, this is a lot longer than the other chapters. I really am a slow updater; it's just that I happened to have had a lot of time and inspiration last June and July (which, incidentally, are the months I have a break from school haha). Anyway, read on. I do hope you enjoy it.

In this chapter: Arthur's playing favourites.

Chronicles of the Holy Grail

Chapter 6: Chester King

"Ah, Galahad. The others were beginning to wonder if we were going to have a double toast."

Unbeknownst to Arthur, who had yet to put his glasses back on, the other agents either sighed or rolled their eyes. If any of them had been as tardy as their colleague had been, they wouldn't be receiving the proverbial slap on the wrist he was being subjected to at the moment.

Nobody knew how it happened, but as far as Kingsman history went, every single Arthur had genuinely favoured every single Galahad. It was no coincidence that the seat of Galahad was directly on Arthur's right. The knowledge of this phenomenon had been passed down to all knights (well, except the Galahads, of course) from generation to generation. This was done to prevent any dissention caused by envy; not that it was really necessary since without fail, all the Galahads to date had been as gallant and pure as their namesake from the legend of old. They never abused their position as the favoured ones and seemed to be generally unaware of it. As such, no one could really fault them for it, especially since they were well-loved and respected by all. Truth be told, all the knights were fond of the Galahads they've had the privilege of working with. The fact that Galahads were always (always!) the prettiest of them all probably helped a little. Now, in this modern day and age, the knowledge was passed on just to see if the rule would hold true through the test of time.

As the current Arthur finally donned the spectacles, everyone sat at attention and the mood sobered at the reminder of why they were gathered at the moment. They raised their glasses and offered a toast to their fallen comrade.

"To Lancelot."

After the toast, Arthur left the knights with the instruction to turn in their proposals for Lancelot's replacement not later than his prescribed deadline. Merlin had impeccable timing as always, appearing at the door as soon as the conference had reached its conclusion.

Knowing that Galahad would want to be the one to bring justice for James (the boy had a heart of gold, but would turn into a most terrifying avenging angel for those he cared about, he thought fondly), he had asked Merlin to begin the preliminary investigation into Lancelot's death and prepare a mission dossier on it. The magician briefed them both on his findings, work impeccable as ever. Merlin wrapped it up and Arthur knew it could go without saying, but he still announced it just for the sake of formality. He turned to Galahad.

"It's all yours."

Merlin placed the packet on the table, well within Galahad's reach and promptly left the room. Arthur internally sighed as he gave his agent a final reminder.

"And don't forget your membership proposal." They looked each other in the eye. "Try picking a more suitable candidate this time," Arthur continued, though he knew it was a sore topic between them. He could practically see the boy's hackles rising.

"Seventeen years, and still, evolving with the times remains an entirely foreign concept to you." Brown eyes flashed. "Need I remind you I wouldn't be here if it weren't for that young man? He was as much Kingsman material as any of them. More so."

Arthur would not contest that. It was true that Lee Unwin had bought precious years for Galahad, Merlin, and Lancelot—and by extension, Kingsman—but Chester King was an old man set in his old ways. Still, he tried to make Galahad see reason.

"But he wasn't exactly one of us, was he? Let's face it, Galahad. Your little experiment failed."

Having had enough, Galahad rose from his seat and made for the door, but not without offering his unsolicited opinion.

"With respect, Arthur, you're a snob."

Arthur's eyebrows rose at the affront. "With respect?" he parroted incredulously.

"The world is changing. There's a reason why aristocrats developed weak chins," was Galahad's parting shot as he left Arthur alone in the dining room.

Like a rebellious teenager trying to prove a point, Galahad had, as expected, proposed quite the ruffian. Chester snorted condescendingly as he read through the files, clicking his tongue at the things he saw. It looked like the spawn was a lot worse than the father—at least Lee had been making something out of himself with the marines before being handpicked by Galahad. The boy, on the other hand, had been a druggie, a quitter, a thief, and all-around trouble-maker. Sure, the potential was there, but Chester truly believed that it would only stay as such. He sniffed, not at all noticing how he had quite literally turned his nose up at the chav boy. He didn't know why Galahad didn't understand that he was just giving the boy false hope.

Even without intervention, the boy had been set to fail from the very beginning.

Not that Chester would rig the traditional selection. One could never really trust a spy, but one could trust that Chester King would stick to his traditions. Galahad will surely see the error in his own judgement soon enough.

Chester King had no children, but he supposed this is what it felt like to have a critically injured one as he stared at Harry's prone form. Being the most skilled and down-to-earth of their current agent pool, Arthur was close to a hundred percent sure that Galahad had truly been taken by surprise and that this outcome had not been borne out of carelessness. The boy had learnt that lesson the hard way, the day Lee Unwin was lost.

His musings were cut short as Merlin entered the room, ready to report. He had most likely started to analyse the scans as he made his way there from the labs. He had the latest one on hand, as well as several others on his clipboard tablet. He looked up at Arthur and promptly reported his findings.

"His MRI shows no signs of concussion. No direct brain trauma at all."

That was well and good, but the fact remains that Harry currently lay in a coma.

"How much longer can he be out?" Chester couldn't help but ask.

"That's the million-dollar question. We don't know what he was exposed to in there." The 'yet' need not be spoken, and he had no doubts they would have definite answers soon. Merlin wouldn't have gotten his position, had he not been the most resourceful analyst in Kingsman. Leaving that issue to more capable hands, Arthur went on to the next.

"What about Harry's footage? It didn't stream to his home terminal."

"Encrypted and uncrackable. If and when he comes around, you might want to have a word with him about, ah, sharing his password."

Arthur nodded, intending to do just that. He looked back at the prone knight on the bed, but his attention was diverted to the sound of the door opening behind Merlin. The most miniscule of frowns touched Chester's brow, eyeing his least favoured recruit.

"Is he gonna be alright?"

The boy's tone and demeanour could pass off for nonchalant curiosity with just a touch of mild concern. Why was he even there? No trainee should be wandering about this area, especially with a knight down and vulnerable, never mind that this particular one was Galahad's proposal.

"You need to have patience, Eggsy. But there's hope, 'kay? If I were you, I'd concentrate on your training, make it through the tests—make him proud."

The gradual softening of Merlin's voice until it was as close as it could get to a whisper was very telling. He must have informed the boy and extended an invitation to visit Galahad. Not even forty-eight hours had passed and already their magician had picked a favourite. Merlin always had two or three from each batch he'd handled and there was something to be said about how those recruits would always be the ones on top. Merlin's intuition was something of a legend in their circles.

Chester watched the young man's false bravado fall away as the boy nodded earnestly at Merlin's advice, the worry now spread over his features for all to see; making him seem even younger than he truly was. Somehow, Chester himself felt how deep the boy's concern ran. The slight knit in Chester's brow eased without his notice.

Even without Galahad on duty, Arthur's work hadn't diminished—there was always something going on that needed their brand of intervention in some part of the world, obscure or otherwise. It was thus why a week had passed before he was able to visit Harry at the medical wing. Paperwork waited on no one. He entered the room without preamble, not at all expecting to be greeted by the sight of Gary Unwin sitting on a low chair, asleep and slumped over one side of the bed, his hands clasping Harry's in a gentle hold. Chester felt oddly out of place, but the quiet entrance of a nurse intervened before he could pursue the thought. She respectfully nodded at him as she went about her routine check of the patient's vitals, recording everything on the charts.

"How has he been?" Chester quietly inquired.

"No changes, but he's stable," she replied just as quietly. She adjusted the IV drip and smiled fondly at the sleeping pair. "Eggsy's been here everyday. Talks to Galahad so he knows he's not alone. He comes whenever he has some free time," she supplied.

Chester's eyebrows raised. Well. He must have, seeing as the nurses seem to be familiar enough to call him by his preferred name. He turned away and walked towards the exit as the nurse draped a spare blanket over Gary.

It was a grudging thought, but perhaps the boy wasn't quite as uncouth as Chester imagined him to be.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months.

True to the conviction lit by Merlin's words that day, Gary had thrown himself into his training. Skills that were already there were honed, mastered, and pushed to greater heights while new ones were learnt and refined without prejudice. Through each test passed (with flying colours, even!) and each jotted comment on behaviour and performance that merited praise, Gary had slowly destroyed Chester's preconceived notions and distaste; and upon the rubble left behind, brick by brick, built the foundations to support Chester's growing respect—and dare he say it?—fondness for the boy.

He knew that Eggsy had to be exhausted, worked to the bone daily with physical and mental exercises; and at this stage in training, it was common for the recruits to grab every opportunity to fall into Morpheus' arms. And yet he found that Eggsy would always find time to sit with Harry and regale him with the adventures of each passing day, never doubting he would see those brown eyes open to the world once again. If such faith and devotion were to be given to Kingsman, Chester would be secure in the knowledge that the future of the organisation would be in good hands. There remained the matter of Eggsy's roots, but Chester found himself on the verge of rationalising that Eggsy was a bright young man with quite the impressive learning curve, and perhaps he could be taught to fit in and become one of them with time.

Merlin had just informed him that Harry was up and about, and he was on his way to the medical wing when he saw Eggsy and the young Lady Morton going the direction he came from, presumably to walk their puppies on the grounds.

"Good afternoon, sir. He's awake."

The lad's face was bright and open and contagious, and Chester couldn't help but smile back.

"Yes, I was just on my way to talk with him. Carry on."

He left the recruits to their own devices and resumed his pace, unaware that his usually stoic and snobbish demeanour was nowhere to be seen.

Harry and Chester tucked in as soon as the soup was served, but Galahad wasted no time in informing Arthur about the results of his reconnaissance the night before. All other agents have their debriefings in the office, but somehow Galahad almost always had his over a meal or some other more relaxed setting.

"Valentine didn't let me out of his sight. All I got was this on the way in."

Galahad pressed the side of his glasses to project the feed onto the wall-mounted screen, and went on to report about his findings on the Kentucky-based hate group that was the South Glade Mission Church; after which Arthur, on his part, also informed Galahad about the Scandinavian Royal Crown Princess Tilde joining the list of high-profile missing persons. That was about it for external affairs, and Arthur saw it fit to remind Galahad of the upcoming honeypot and loyalty test for that evening.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry quipped, smile smug and challenging, "Eggsy will pass both spectacularly, just as he had everything else."

Chester agreed in his mind (how could he not, when he'd seen how Eggsy had been with Harry while he was in a coma?) but just hummed, "We shall see, my boy. We shall see." There was no need to feed Harry's satisfaction at the expense of his pride. It was anybody's game at this point, and Chester really did have high hopes for the young Hesketh heir. Pity they could only take one.

Chester mostly spent his time in the tailor shop, especially when the paperwork for the day had all been properly filed. It didn't hurt to reinforce the front their organisation had as a legitimate business, and it was bound to be suspicious when the 'owner' wasn't seen at least every now and then to check on the establishment. As of the moment, Chester was selecting his ensemble for the loyalty test that night, looking over some coats on the pegs he knew were in his exact measurements. Quite the perk it was, to have custom-made clothing for him just about everywhere in the shop.

He already bade Alfred to call it a day despite the tailor's protests, as it was just a few minutes to closing time. Chester waved the good man off, saying he would close up since he was just going to stay there to try and occupy himself before the test anyway. Alfred reluctantly obeyed. Chester was still the boss, after all.

He was startled in the middle of going through the pros and cons of the two coats he was choosing from by the sound of the door opening. The customer was cutting it really close, it seemed. It was still light out, but half past five was half past five and store hours have just officially ended.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but we're closing for the day. Perhaps you can return tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. Are you the owner?" the man held out his hand. "Richmond Valentine."

As Arthur, it was a necessity for Chester to master complete control over his facial expressions; and so without missing a beat, he smiled and shook the hand of the man that they were currently investigating.

"Yes. Chester King, at your service." A pause. "It's quite a surprise to see such a prominent man walk through those doors, I admit. However, our tailors have all gone home and business with us will have to wait until the morrow."

The American laughed. "Oh that's alright, I came here to have just a few minutes of your time, Mr. King… Although, I would of course come back tomorrow for something to wear at the Royal Ascot."

Chester had little choice but to go on with the charade—he was currently unarmed and although Valentine came in alone, he was sure that the multi-billionaire was by no means unprotected. Chester would stand more of a chance if he could get his hands on some weapon, but he couldn't risk going for fitting room three. He opted for the next best thing.

"Certainly. How about we go up to my office?"

Chester strode through the deserted halls at a brisk pace, making his way to the driveway out front. He waved his chauffeur away, saying he would not require the other's services that night. The man gratefully took the unexpectedly early dismissal with a smile and wished him a safe trip. The evening had been too eventful, beginning with his talk with Valentine and ending with the huge disappointment Charlie turned out to be. This all stewed in his mind as he commandeered his vehicle, making sure his glasses' feed were turned off. His jaw was set in a hard line.

He had made his decision.

"Merlin said you wanted to see me, sir?" Eggsy queried as soon as he opened the door.

Chester gestured towards the other chair. "Sit down."

Eggsy moved to obey, the pug he'd chosen back on the first day never straying too far from his owner. Chester found his mood lightening somewhat from the adorable canine's antics.

"Pretty dog," he commented. "What's his name?"

"J.B."

Of course.

Chester quelled the urge to roll his eyes. How much more cliché could you get? "As in James Bond?"

"Nah." Eggsy smiled quite adorably and Chester found himself curious.

"Jason Bourne?" the smile was contagious and Chester found himself smiling back.

Still, Eggsy shook his head in the negative. "No." Looking a bit unsure, the recruit supplied, "Jack Bauer?"

"Oh! Bravo." Chester was amused despite himself. Eggsy chuckled at his reaction.

He'd best get on with it then.

"It pains me to admit it, Eggsy, but I think that one day you might be as good a spy as any of them." He reached for the gun on the side table, pointing it directly at the boy and relishing in his baffled expression before smirking and offering it handle-up. No one would contest that Chester had quite the cruel streak sometimes. "Take it."

He picked up his drink to take a sip before issuing the order. "Shoot the dog."

He watched the boy struggle and knew at once that Eggsy would fail this test. It gave his pride some vindicated satisfaction for proving Harry wrong, but he also couldn't help feeling it was a waste not to have such potential in their agent pool.

"Give me the gun."

The boy pointed the gun right back at him, and for a moment Chester's heart stuttered at the thought that Eggsy would really choose to shoot him in place of the dog. It was a blank, but the thought didn't hurt any less.

The moment was broken by the crack of a gunshot.

"At least the girl's got balls." The lad relinquished the gun. Chester let the bitterness bleed through his voice. "Get out. I knew you couldn't make it." He watched the boy silently make for the door. "Go home."

Chester sighed. There was only so much disappointment he could take. Little did he know that he would twice more be subjected to it later in the day.

Once again, Chester found himself in the virtual presence of his agents, toasting to a fallen colleague. The air was heavy with disbelief and sadness; Galahad was truly the most loved and respected. He sighed as he went through the motions, asking for proposals to fill in the vacated space. The conference ended with a heavy silence. Chester sat back and heaved a sigh.

It was then that the double doors opened to admit a distraught boy, eyes red-rimmed, face pale, voice raspy and accent thickened by emotion.

"Arfur… Harry's dead."

"Galahad is dead." This was the best he could do to detach himself from his own feelings of loss and melancholy. He never wanted Harry to go like that, he'd been the son he never had… but there would be no convincing him about the coming new world, Chester knew. Either way, the result would be the same (at least, that's what he told himself to assuage some of his guilt).

Despite his tone with Eggsy earlier in the day when the dog test was failed, Chester's voice softened a notch in light of their shared grief. "Hence, we have just drunk a toast to him."

"Well 'en you know what that psycho's doin'. How many people around the world 'ave got those SIM cards—Valentine could send his signal to any of 'em, all of 'em! If they all go homicidal at the same time then—"

Chester cut him off. "Indeed. And thanks to Galahad's recordings, we have Valentine's confession. The intelligence had been passed on to the relevant authorities, our work is complete, and a most distinguished legacy for our fallen friend it is too."

"And that's it?"

The boy visibly deflated at his words, his face an open canvas of emotions; a splash of helplessness over the very picture of anguish and loss. Looking at him, Chester felt like the sun would never shine again. He belatedly realized that his heart went out to the boy in much the same way it would for Harry. Perhaps this was a chance for him to have that other son (more like grandson, really), as well as something he could do to honour Harry's sacrifice. But of course, he had to be cautious in going about it. He beckoned him over.

"Come sit down, boy."

Eggsy did as he was asked and sat on Galahad's seat; and Chester thought about how fitting it was and how the boy seemed to belong there. He explained about Kingsman's tradition when an agent dies and poured them both Napoleonic brandy from the decanter, making sure the poison-laced glass was on the boy's side. If all went well, he wouldn't need to activate the pen. He idly answered Eggsy's question about the portraits before offering the glass to the boy. They toasted and drank to Galahad.

"Harry said you don't like to break rules, Arfur. Why now?" Eggsy's accent had thickened once more. Perhaps the alcohol further loosened his tenuous hold on his emotions.

"You're very good, Eggsy. Perhaps I will make you my proposal for Galahad's position," was Chester's reply, and he meant every word. But it was here that it would get tricky. "Provided of course that we could see eye to eye on certain political matters." He picked up the pen and flipped the switch. "Can you guess what this is?"

"I don't have to. Harry showed me. You click it, I die… I fought that brandy tasted a bit shit." Chester saw the hard set of the boy's jaw. The lad must be feeling the betrayal now, his soft 'th's devolving into 'f's. The boy was astute and observant as ever, a shame he didn't make it through the selection because he would've become an excellent agent.

"Bravo," he praised the boy, the second time for the day.

They talk of Valentine and viruses and humans and mass genocide, and how it all made sense to Chester that it would be the right thing to do for the human race and the world to survive. The cards were all laid on the table and it was time for Eggsy to make his decision.

"I'd raver be wiv Harry. Fanks."

Just like with the dog test, Eggsy had chosen to be against him. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"So be it."

It was with a heavy heart that Chester clicked the primed switch. He was going to lose another Galahad before he was even knighted. Still, it needed to be done. And oh, what a fine knight he would make, he thought, as he realized that he was the one convulsing, having drunk his own poison. Very masterfully done in true spy fashion. He thought it a shame he wouldn't see the agent Eggsy would've become past today even as profanities slipped uncontrollably from his mouth, in the scant moments before Death dragged him on into the darkness. And then he knew no more.

A/N: Sorry about Eggsy's accent. But yeah, I'm assuming everyone who's reading this has watched the movie so I know you all know what's going down. XD And I didn't like Chester King much, but I really did try to get in his head for this (which is part of the reason why I kept on having blocks). I'm a bit iffy with the ending being a little dark, but oh well. -_-;;

On a lighter note, I hope you all like my headcanon that all Galahads are precious cinnamon rolls and are everyone's favourites; not to mention they're always the prettiest ones of the bunch! HAHAHAHAHAHA XD

Anyway, thanks for reading and please do leave me some words. I live on feedback and my writing will only be all the better for it! Help me improve? See you guys next chapter! But yeah, you can also find me on tumblr.

Replies to unsigned reviews:

Jules: Thank you! It's nice to hear from you again. I hope this one is also to your liking. Until next time!

Zoey: Oh! Here you go. I hope you like this one too. :D I'm a slow updater though, so you might be in for a lot of disappointment in terms of waiting. But to be fair, my normal update pace is usually one chapter every 2 or 3 months. I'm surprised I'm churning out chapters this fast; I mean, I started this thing in June. It's only August and I already have 6 chapters and a prologue. LOL XD I hope to hear from you again in the future. n_n