The sword laying across from him rattled against the hull of the bullhead's cargo bay as a bout of turbulence threatened to tip it to the ground. The sole occupant, laying against crates of dust and ammunition, glared at it, daringit to fall over. The sword stayed upright, however, as the turbulence passed. He scoffed.
Useless piece of junk. I should've taken my dad's advice of learning a mecha-shift weapon. Not like I am any good with Crocea Mors, anyway.
Contrary to what Cardin said to everyone who bothered to listen, Jaune did not steal Crocea Mors from his father. It was wrongfully handed down to him when he lied through his teeth and told his family he was accepted into Beacon. Though, when he looked at his family's sword, he only felt guilt for having taken it from its rack atop the fireplace.
He narrowed his eyes at the sword, hoping it would feel his anger and frustration and vanish like a good weapon.
But Crocea Mors is a good weapon. Jaune Arc simply isn't a good person.
When the sword failed to disappear, he frowned. Having lost the staring contest, he closed his eyes and simply hummed. It was a slow tune that his father had taught him when he was eleven. He would always whistle away on it as he worked on something in the barn, or helped his mother with meals.
"All Arcs know this song, Jaune. It was once a ballad of your great-great grandfather. The words were lost when he died, but the melody was remembered."
Jaune couldn't whistle, but he could hum, and the tune would calm him. When he opened his eyes, he let his eyes wander inside of the poorly lit cargo bay. There were no windows, and the only lights on were the red emergency lights above him, casting everything in a dim, red glow. He would've taken a more well lit location, the atmosphere certainly not helping his thoughts, but he was certain this was the only place none of his friends would bother looking for him.
At the thought of his friends, he grimaced. He would be turning his back on them. The only thing keeping his conscience intact was that he could not help them in Atlas anyway. He would be a hindrance, as he always was. Jaune had been selfish. No matter which way he cut it, he was a selfish, needy person. Again, his friends would say otherwise, but that did not matter. At least, not in this case. They would not understand. This was entirely his fault. If he had not received that letter…
His eyes trailed away from the red lights in the ceiling to the crumpled letter by his sword. It was more at fault than the sword was, and he more than the letter. When that courier found them just as they were about to go to Atlas to find the next relic, he had been elated. He'd never gotten a letter before. At least, not one that was not from his grandparents for his birthday. He had even saved reading it for the trip so he would have something to look forward to on the flight.
He should have just read it on the spot and saved himself the trouble of having to fly back from Atlas.
And having to slip away from his friends. He didn't want to have to lie to them. He could not, in fact. He simply did not have the courage to look Ruby in the eyes and tell her that he was leaving. That he was quitting. He paused on that thought.
He couldn't lie to any of his friends, not even Blake, though he struggled to think of a time he had even spoken to her. So Jaune simply lay there, against the dust and ammo crates, both desperately wanting the flight to end now and last forever.
Heavy footfalls from the stairs dragged his attention back to his surroundings. Who would come into the cargo bay? Ruby? No, Ruby's not that heavy. Yang? No, she would have said something by now. Ren-
"You look like someone kicked your puppy, kid," a voice called out, "though, I think they must've spit on it, too."
Jaune turned his head to the leaning drunk. "Qrow? What're you doing in here?"
"I feel like that's a question that goes both ways," Qrow shot back.
Jaune shrugged.
"I asked first."
Qrow tilted his head in agreement, and took a swig of his flask before continuing.
"That's fair turnabout, I suppose."
He walked up to Jaune before unceremoniously dropping next to him. Jaune turned away, and looked once more at his sword. Qrow followed Jaune's eyes. His eyes narrowed to slits and looked back at Jaune.
His eyes were looking at his sword, yes, but he was not seeing it. Like he was seeing past it or lost in his own world entirely. Qrow had seen that look before. In the mirror, in fact, twelve years ago. He had even seen it on Tai's face when he thought no one was looking. He had originally come down here to find Jaune and bring him to go eat dinner with the others…
Food could wait, though. He had a role to play, after all.
Qrow did not know exactly what was on Jaune's mind, but the sword that normally never left his side, even when he slept, was ten feet across the room? Well, Qrow would not call himself the most observant person, but he was not that oblivious.
"I came down to have a chat. That's all."
"You? Came down to chat?" Jaune scoffed, "I'd sooner believe you saying that Weiss liked me."
"Careful what you wish for, kid. I know what Ice Queen can do, and I don't wanna imagine what tiny Ice Queen can do. I have enough Schnee in my life."
Jaune's eye twitched. "Did you just come down here to insult my friends?"
Qrow raised an eyebrow. Well, that got a reaction. Friends it is.
"Family trouble?"
Jaune said nothing, and the silence spoke for itself. Qrow leaned back on his own ammo crate- full of burn dust- and shot back a mouthful of whiskey. He was going to need it for this. He was never good at all this heart-to-heart stuff.
"I remember, back when Yang was first learning how to control her semblance. It was after her mother had left, of course. Twin sister was never good for anything. Couldn't even be a mother right. But anyway, Yang would set things on fire completely by accident constantly for the few weeks it took me to teach her how to control it. Her dad, Tai, wasn't in the right state of mind, to really be there for her."
"Anyway, one day, it's getting near the end of our training, and after the first few times she nearly lit my cape on fire, I left it off to the side. Now, Ruby was old enough to crawl around. As I was busy training Yang, I didn't notice Ruby off to the side, crawling around my cape and doing her best impression of Zwei and getting stuck under it. Finally, after what was probably a few minutes, I just hear, 'cookie,' over and over. I swore the collective hangovers finally gave me a stroke and I was about to keel over. Yang was the one who noticed the cape shifting around and it took both of us to get Ruby out of whatever crazy knot she had made."
"After she was out, she was all smiles and all she said was, 'cookie.' It took me awhile to even realize that she was speaking her first word until after the fact. I was so relieved that she wasn't hurt that I immediately went and got her all the cookies I could find in the house."
Qrow took another drink from his flask to wet his throat after his story, and once it was clear that he was not continuing, Jaune turned to him.
"Why did you tell me that?"
Qrow shrugged. "Always good to remember the nice bits. People usually remember the bad, and sometimes the bad can be remembered as good. You can bet that I sure as hell wasn't happy in the moment. One niece on fire and the other nearly suffocating herself, but I can look back on it fondly."
Jaune frowned, but he still understood him.
"How 'bout you, kid?" he raised an eyebrow, "any fun memories you got stuck in that noggin of yours? Friends, family?"
Jaune returned to looking at Crocea Mors.
After a pregnant pause to gather his thoughts, he began, "I had a twin."
Qrow narrowed his eyes, but otherwise gestured with his flask for him to continue.
"We never really got along well. We used to use every trick in the book to try and get the other in trouble. I'll, uh, admit that it usually ended up with Joan winning and me crying more often than not, but I would always try again come the next day. That was our daily routine up to the day I was mailed my acceptance letter from Beacon. Out of all my sisters, she was the most proud of me. Of how her baby brother was becoming a huntsman, despite me being the older one. I honestly have a hard time thinking of a good time we had together without being at each other's throats, but, like… I'm having a hard time finding the words."
"You miss her the most?" Qrow offered.
Jaune nodded. "Close enough. I think that's what you meant by finding good from the bad."
"Not quite. I meant it more as taking a bad memory, something that you wish didn't happen, and finding some light in it. That said, you were on to something there, too. I'll give you some points for that. Yours just showed how close you were to your twin. Even while fighting to the end, you still managed to fit a whole lot of love in there."
"A specific memory? Something I didn't wish had happened."
Jaune looked away from the family sword, looking around the cargo hold as if trying to find the words he wanted to say floating around the crates of dust.
"You have to promise not to laugh."
"I'll do my best, but I promise nothing."
Jaune rolled his eyes. "Joan and I made a bet. I don't even remember what the bet was anymore. All I remember is what came after, and what came after was me… in a dress. A bright, pastel pink, princess dress. Complete with a ponytail, er, warrior wolf tail.
It was beyond humiliating for a fourteen year old boy. I thought I was going to die on the spot, even if we were just at home. But it made Joan smile. It made her smile and laugh and cry from laughing. I had never seen her look so happy. Yeah, it may have been because of how ridiculous I looked, but I still remember her smile. I didn't pay attention to it at the time, too busy figuring out the fastest way to hang myself, but I can focus on it now."
"See? Remember the good bits. Hold them close. They can't be taken from you, and if you're able to find some good to remember from everything you go through in life, you'll make it to the end it."
Jaune leaned back and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah."
Qrow reached over and clapped his hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Honor them." Qrow made a pointed look at the sword laying across from him, "There's no worse insult than giving up. Pick up your sword and kill every damn Grimm you come across. Become someone that they would be proud of, and hold onto that. This world needs more people like you. Besides, what would mini Ice Queen say if her personal aura-battery quit?"
Jaune slapped Qrow's hand away and turned away to hide a smile. Qrow laughed and stood up, stretching out. "Oh, I'm not as limber as I used to be, ah." he groaned.
Qrow capped his flask and walked toward the stairs leading out, "dinner's ready, by the way. Don't wait too long or else that ginger of yours might hunt you down. That or just eat your portion."
"I'll be up soon, don't worry."
Qrow simply nodded and began ascending the stairs before something crunched under his shoe. Frowning, Qrow bent down and picked it up. It was a crumpled piece of paper, and good quality, too. Careful not to rip it, he unfolded the wrinkled mess and smoothed it out on the railing. Quickly skimming through it, all he could do was sigh before folding it up, and placing it in coat.
To Whom it May Concern,
This letter has reached you to inform of the passings of Nicholas Julius Arc, Juniper Maron Arc, Sapphire Eliza Arc, Violet Elena Arc, Coral Maria Arc, Azure Sophia Arc, Lavender Avery Arc, Magenta Aria Arc, and Joan Kyra Arc. The town of Ansel in which they resided was wiped out by a Grimm incursion. Whoever holds possession of this letter, related by blood or by law, is bequeathed an amount of 50,000 lien, as dictated by the last wills and testaments of Nicholas Julius Arc and Juniper Maron Arc. The Arc Estate is also bequeathed, but due to the destruction of the township of Ansel, the kingdom of Vale shall grant an additional 500,000 lien in compensation. Insurance is to be collected separately.
- The Council of Vale, blessed be her name.