A/N: Hello all, and welcome to a brand new story that came to me playing Fable. I've always been a lover of the Fable games, ever since I played the first one as a kid (an eight year old playing a game with hookers. What could go wrong?).
So, why not put Joan Arc and a few other RWBY characters in the world? I mean, why not?
How hard could it be?
Joan Arc's Legend
Summary: Joan, the youngest member of the Albion royal family, always dreamt of being a Hero like her ancestor, Jaune Arc of Oakvale. She never imagined she'd have to deal with an ancient evil, perverted garden gnomes, or leading a rebellion on top of it.
*A Harsh Lesson*
Klein had been a butler for a very long time, having once served under the previous king of Albion many years ago. However, he always managed to find excitement in his line of work, ever since he learned of the king's Heroic powers. It made an otherwise dreary position much more fulfilling.
He pulled back the heavy red curtains of the bedroom aside, letting out a sigh upon laying eyes on the haze coming from Bowerstone Industrial. "What a dreadfully sorry sight." He missed the time he spent serving the old king, when he could open windows and gaze at the capital's beauty for hours before the Age of Industry came to the country twenty years ago.
A feeble yawn sounded behind him, and the butler chuckled, turning around. "Such a beautiful day to waste in bed, don't you agree?"
In the regal bed lay the youngest member of the royal family and the current heir to the throne, Princess Joan. Her long blonde locks were a tangled mess, and she lazily blinked one blue eye open.
She groaned in protest and covered her face with the blanket, hiding away from the bright sunlight. "Go away, Klein…"
"Now, now," Klein gently chided, a smile on his face; her response to being woken up reminded him of the time when her older brother, King Logan, was still a child. "That is hardly a response fit for a princess. I'm afraid it is time for you to rise from the comfort of bed."
He noticed the lump under the heavy blanket that could only be Joan's dog, and he went to pull the blanket off when Joan wrapped it tighter against her body, her head poking out briefly. "Ten more minutes, please…"
Klein's mustache ruffled in amusement. She hadn't changed a bit since she was a child, whereas Logan eventually outgrew his dislike of mornings.
"I wish I could let you, madam." He gave the princess an apologetic smile. "But you have quite the busy day ahead. A lot of time will be spent in the court, I'm afraid." He knew how much Joan hated dealing with the nobles, and wished he had the power to change her schedule. But if Logan wanted her there, she'd have no choice but to show up, whether she liked it or not.
Joan reluctantly sat up, yawning and stretching her arms above her head. "Let me guess, my brother can't bear to be without me while he meets with those snobs? Fine, I'll take pity on him and get up so he doesn't have to face them alone."
Her dog Zwei was lying on his back, and the blonde gave his stomach a rub. "Come on, boy. If I have to get up, so do you."
Zwei let out a happy bark, and the corgi jumped off the bed. He began to look expectantly at Klein, and the butler began to sweat a little. "Don't look at me like that; that pitiful stare of yours won't work…"
"It's so much easier to just give him his pets," Joan said with a grin, swinging her legs out of bed with all the grace of a princess. "I don't know why you insist on torturing yourself every day, especially since you always give in."
Klein finally cracked, and he leaned over to scratch behind Zwei's ears. "Fine…good dog."
"Told you." Joan gave him a smug smile, now brushing her long hair in front of the large mirror that sat on her dresser.
The butler let out a snort and rolled his eyes. "What a pair you two are. The kingdom is doomed."
"Hey!" Joan protested. "I'm not that bad."
Klein could only smile; she was as much of a pleasure to serve as her father had been. "If you'll kindly follow me, madam, perhaps we can find suitable clothing for today's activities. Lady Yang is most eager to speak to you this morning and is waiting for you in the garden. No doubt you'll want to look your best for your young 'friend'."
"What are you insinuating?" Joan asked, a faint dusting of pink now flushing her cheeks.
Klein smirked. Lady Yang was of noble blood, a member of the powerful Xiao Long family from eastern Samarkand, across the ocean. Her and Joan were very close from her arrival to Albion's shores nearly four years ago, and he wasn't surprised to find evidence of them being involved romantically.
"Contrary to what you may believe, you and Lady Yang are not as subtle as you think." He snorted. "You should count yourself lucky you have a butler who knows whether or not to ask questions when they happen to find articles of clothing that most definitely do not belong to the princess in her bedroom."
Joan's face turned a bright shade of red, but the princess didn't throw a flustered retort back at him. Instead, she fell in behind him, her hair now straightened. "I take it you made sure I only picked something befitting of my title to wear?"
Klein nodded, pointing to two neat piles of clothes he had already prepared for her while she was still asleep. "I have. I believe you'll find either to be suitable, although I personally would recommend you pick the more practical of the two, since Sir Peter is eager to continue your combat training today."
Joan nodded; her mentor, Sir Peter Port, was a respected soldier and fought alongside her father many times during his forging of the kingdom. He trained her older brother, and now her.
She picked up the pile consisting of white leggings, a blue skirt, ankle boots, and a light blue shirt; it would be far easier to move around in, compared to the long flowing dress and slippers.
She got changed in a hurry, Klein turning his back for her to have her privacy, and when she was done, he gave her a nod of approval. "Ah, splendid choice. I'm sure Lady Yang will most approve. You ought to make you way to her now. And I would recommend avoiding your brother until your scheduled court appearance; King Logan is rumored to be in quite the foul mood this morning. Have a good day, madam."
"Will do. Bye Klein." Joan opened her doors and was greeted by bright sunshine and a gentle breeze. She inhaled deeply, breathing in, and she gave Zwei a gentle pat on the head. "Come on, boy. Let's go."
Zwei barked, and the two set off. Two guards saluted her as she walked past, their rifles freshly polished. "My princess."
"Princess."
Joan gave them a respectful nod back; her brother always said it was imperative that you treat those beneath you with the same respect as you would with someone above you. As such, she always made sure she was respectful to everyone who crossed her path, whether it be one of the many servants working in the castle or a visiting noble.
When she walked down the stairs leading into the garden, Zwei ran ahead a little bit, barking happily at a bunch of birds that were resting on the railing. She rolled her eyes, giving him a playful nudge. "Zwei! Did you have to?"
Zwei merely barked in response with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
Joan continued her way through the garden, noticing the fine condition the hedges were in; they had been trimmed, and recently. 'Someone's been hard at work. I should find out who it was and get my brother to float some extra gold their way.'
She spotted Yang hovering over the garden's railing, and she jogged over to her. The noble was wearing a black and yellow dress, her hair an untamable mess as always. Zwei ran on ahead, and Yang chuckled when the dog greeted her with happy licks. "Oh, the brave knight has come to rescue me. But you'd be awful in a fight, you big softie."
"I'll protect you, my dearest." Joan pretended to be a boastful knight, flexing her arms.
"I don't know." Yang grinned mischievously, sticking her tongue out. "You don't exactly look intimidating, either. How about you give me a demonstration of those abilities of yours?"
"Yannnng!" Joan protested, looking around nervously. "There are others watching! What if one of them tells my brother?"
"They won't be telling him something he doesn't already know," Yang said with a scoff. "Now, come on. Show me what you got."
Joan sighed, but she leant in and gave her a gentle peck on the lips. "There. Are you happy now?"
"For now, I suppose it'll do nicely." Yang's smile turned into a frown, and she shook her head. "By Avo, I thought you'd never get up. Did Klein tell you I wanted to speak to you?"
"Yes." Joan nodded. "Did something happen?"
"I'm not sure," Yang admitted. "But, everyone in the castle seems to be upset with your brother. More than usual. And it's even worse down in the city."
She leaned on the railing with a heavy sigh, looking down at the factories of Bowerstone Industrial below. "You hear such terrible stories. Listen, they say a factory worker was executed this morning. I'm pretty sure it's nothing more than a dumb rumor, but you know how fast gossip travels in the city. The staff in the castle are anxious. I told them you'd speak to them. Will you do that? I admit I'm a little worried of what'll happen if you don't calm things down."
Joan gave a shrug, shuffling her feet. "If you think it'll help." She still was nervous when speaking to crowds, despite her many court appearances, but if push came to shove, she was capable of swallowing that fear and delivering a quick speech.
"I do." Yang nodded. "The people may fear the king, but they still care greatly for their princess."
She extended her hand, winking. "Come on, you. I'll escort you back to the castle, your highness."
"Don't call me that." Joan let out a sigh. "You know how much I can't stand it. It's not like I have any actual power."
"That's a lie, and you know it," Yang scolded. "Your opinion matters greatly to your brother, whether you know it or not."
Joan took her hand, and she frowned. The news she had just received about a worker being executed was disturbing. Sure, her brother's policies had grown a little harsher during his reign, but for him to actually kill someone? It didn't seem to fit who he was as a person. "I can't believe he would've had a worker killed."
"I agree." Yang nodded. "But at the same time, I think he might be ill or something. He's changed so much, and he always looks exhausted. Maybe his duties are affecting him somehow? Has he said a word to you about anything?"
"Not at all." Joan shook her head. "He always gives me the same smile, and tells me everything is fine and I don't need to worry about it just yet."
"Hmm. The way he said that..." Yang pursed her lips. "It makes it sound like it's something you'll have to worry about in the future. Maybe when you take over."
"I hope that's not for a long time." Joan's shoulders slumped a little. "I'm not ready to become the queen. I know I'm not."
Yang gave her a nudge in the ribs, cupping her cheek. "Hey, chin up. You can't let the workers in the castle see you sulking like this; they'll be demanding the head of whoever made you upset."
Joan smiled. "You're right."
She lead Yang to the kitchens, and she chuckled when she saw a blackened chicken desperately flapping its wings in an attempt to avoid being shot by one of the stewards. "Well, you definitely don't see that every day."
Yang laughed too, and they stopped outside to listen in on the conversation inside.
"Well, I heard all he did was stand up for one of the kids working in the factory," murmured Bryn.
"Who knows where it ends?" Poppy sighed. "Next thing you know, it's one of this of that gets the headsman's axe."
"Quit your damned gossiping," the steward ordered, reloading his rifle. "And straighten the bloody clothes before the king comes down."
Joan and Yang decided to enter, and the steward bowed his head respectfully, placing his weapon down. "Ah, your majesty. Such an honor to have you here today. The staff have convened to hear your words. Whenever you're ready."
"You got this," Yang whispered, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go and stepping back to give her some space.
Joan breathed in to ease the nervousness that pounded away in her heart, and she began her speech. "You've all been through some difficult times, and the king has been too preoccupied to treat you as he should lately. For that, I will apologize for his actions as of late. I ask you to ignore any wild rumors you may happen to hear. I promise to speak to my brother about improving conditions for both you and your families outside the castle. Thank you."
Into the kitchens thundered Sir Peter Port, and the mustached man let out a loud snort. "You call that a royal speech? You didn't shout, you didn't threaten, and you were actually reasonable. I say, that was bloody marvelous. Now, are you ready for today's training?"
"Try and bring her back in one piece, will you?" Yang asked, heading back into the gardens.
Joan fell in behind her mentor, and Port looked back at her. "I suppose you heard the rumor, too?"
Joan gave a nod in response.
"Well, I'm afraid they're quite true. I didn't want to believe it, either," Port said with a sigh. "But if your brother is willing to do this, who knows what he'll do next. In the meantime, the mood inside the castle gets more uneasy with each day."
He gave her a pat on the shoulder, his large mustache ruffling. "You do have a knack for reaching out to people, though. They all looked up to you back there. The way they look up to a leader."
"You think so?" Joan asked. "I honestly thought I was awful at it." 'No matter how many times I give a speech of some sort, I always feel afraid that I'm going to mess it up. I don't know how my brother does it.'
She had to talk to Logan, especially since the rumor about the executed worker turned out to be true. 'Logan, why? Why would you do this? This isn't like you!'
Port and her walked through the main dining hall and towards the front entrance, and the old soldier let out a sigh upon seeing the large crowd waiting to be let inside the throne room. "A lot of people to see your brother today. Poor sods."
"Sir Port!" one man with a clipboard yelled. "What a stroke of luck! Would you be so kind as to sign my petition? Too many suffer on our streets, and the king does nothing. He must be made to care."
"Oh, very well," Port replied. "But, I'm just an old soldier. I doubt my name would actually mean anything."
He turned to Joan, an eyebrow raising. "But, perhaps the princess here would be glad to help you out."
The man's eyes widened, and he cleared his throat. "Oh, that would be wonderful, your majesty. It would simply be the greatest honor." He held out the clipboard and a quill to her, and Joan made up her mind. It wasn't right that so many people were left to fend for themselves on Albion's cruel streets, especially since her own father had to suffer that fate for six years of his life as a child.
"I'll be more than happy to sign." She bent over to scribble her name into the parchment, and the man let out a happy sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank you, your majesty," he said gratefully. "Your support will make a world of difference. I'm certain of it."
He took back the quill once she was done, and Port stroked his facial hair. "That was definitely a courageous move. I doubt it'll amount to much, but your brother will definitely realize you have a mind of your own even more now. How about we put that mind of yours to use in the combat room?"
"You're on." Joan's spirits rose. She enjoyed combat training, even if she suffered several small cuts and had bruises that took days to heal. It was perfect for clearing her head, and with everything she heard in the early morning so far, she could use it.
"You've made good progress these past few weeks," her mentor remarked. "But today isn't about practice. I want you to fight me properly, as if your life depended on it. One day, the people of Albion are going to need you to lead them. I have to find out just how ready you are. Now, go on and grab a sword."
Joan picked up a sword from the rack on the far side of the room, and she twirled it in her hands. Port drew his own blade, giving her a nod. "Fight!"
Joan rushed in, her boldness taking him by surprise, and she was able to get in a few quick strikes before he began to parry. "Oh, good strike!"
He chuckled, sending her spinning with a well-timed counter. "Do you remember the stories I'd tell you about your ancestor, Jaune Arc? You'd never get tired of them. And do you remember what you'd say every time?"
"Teach me to be a Hero," she recalled, a smile on her face. Her sword met Port's again, and she countered with a parry of her own. Port stumbled, and she landed another hit on her mentor.
"Every single time." Port smiled, letting out a grunt of pain. "But, I've done my best. Now, I need you to do your best. Strike me! With everything you've got!"
Joan tried to hit him, but he blocked the attack easily, shaking his head. "Not good enough! Don't see me as your mentor! See me as someone who is about to kill your loved ones!"
The blonde narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her sword. She took in a deep breath and swung with all her strength. Port raised his sword to block the blow, and Joan shattered his sword in one hit.
The broken half fell to the ground, and Port let out a loud guffaw. "Ahaha! Would you look at that!? You only went and broke it! Am I a great teacher or what?"
His gaze turned serious, and he clasped her shoulder after she sheathed her blade. "But, listen. There's something—"
The doors to the combat room burst open, and in stumbled Yang. "Port! You have to come, quickly! Both of you!"
"The hell is going on?" he demanded.
"Outside the castle," Yang answered, doubling over and panting. "It looks like a demonstration of some kind. They're right outside the castle gates. I've never seen so many people out there."
"Dammit." Port let out a loud groan, rubbing his face. "I should've figured something like this would happen once word of what happened earlier reached the general populace. This isn't going to end well."
The three looked outside from within, and the old soldier frowned. "Logan usually does listen to my counsel. I'll go and find him. Joan, stay here. There's something we still need to talk about."
Joan nodded, and Yang looked outside uneasily. "I've got a very bad feeling about this, Joan. Logan will listen to you; you're his sister."
"But…" Joan didn't want to deal with her brother if he was in a foul mood; even though they were family, he still made sure to discipline her harshly if he caught her acting out of line, and she was pretty sure that disobeying an order to stay where she was would result in some sort of punishment.
"Come on!" Yang pulled on her arm, motioning with her head. "The guards have gone. We can sneak past them before they catch us."
Joan took one look at the crowd outside, and started to run towards the steps that lead up to the upper floor of the castle. The doors to the throne room were shut, and the blonde princess frowned. "They must be in the war room."
"Then let's get there before anyone sees us," Yang whispered.
Joan started to make her way to the war room, and she put her ear against the keyhole. Inside were three armed guards, Port, and her brother.
"Think about what you're doing, Logan," Port warned. "This won't be good for your image."
"I'm protecting the interests of the people," Logan replied evenly, a hint of a snarl in his voice. "Do not question me again."
He turned to the guards, his gaze firm. "You will shoot to kill. Start with the ringleaders, and if necessary, continue with the crowd."
Joan's eyes widened in horror. "N-no…he can't be serious!"
"This is madness!" Port protested, his path blocked by a rifle. "You can't do this!"
A guard smashed the old soldier's knee with the butt of his rifle, and he fell to the ground with a cry of pain. Logan stood over him, swallowing. "Never tell me what I can and can't do."
At this point, Joan interfered.
She pushed the door open, and Logan's eyes widened in shock when he saw his little sister. "What are you doing here? The war room is no place for a child; leave now."
The blonde princess's heart thundered in her chest, but she held her ground defiantly. "I'm here to stop you. Brother, please…you can't kill them."
Logan's eyes blazed with anger, and his jaw tightened. "So, you think you should be the one making these decisions? Very well. You'll have your chance. Take my sister and her friend to the throne room. We will settle this manner officially."
The guards swarmed Joan and Yang, and the princess met her brother's gaze before she was escorted out of the war room. "This is madness, and you know it."
Logan merely stroked his chin, brow furrowed. He was thinking of something, and for the first time in quite a few years, Joan was truly afraid of what he was about to do.
Logan took his seat on the throne, looking at his sister and her partner with his features set in a scowl. "You have disappointed me greatly, Joan. Punishment must be appointed where it is due."
He could tell she was afraid, but Joan kept her head high and her voice unwavering. "Punish me, then."
Logan shook his head, and the king of Albion stood up from his throne. "It seems you are no longer a child, so it is time I stopped treating you as one. It is time you learned the harsh reality of wearing the crown, Joan." 'She'll hate me for this. I know she will. But it will be necessary for her to grow into the woman Albion needs.'
He gave a lazy gesture to three villagers currently held at gunpoint by three of his finest elite soldiers. "Here stand the ringleaders of the violent mob you saw outside. Who will be punished? Them, or your companion? The punishment is death."
"What!?" Yang gasped at his decree.
Joan stumbled, and she shook her head vehemently. "No, I won't do this!"
Logan leaned towards her, his eyes narrowed. "Decide. This is a lesson from me. If you are incapable of making the choice, then I will. They will all be executed."
Joan's blue eyes quivered, and they began to leak their tears as she looked towards Yang. "Y-yang…"
"Very well." A soldier went to impale the blonde noble, and Joan leapt to her defense, her sword parrying the strike and using the guard's momentum against him. Logan recognized the move as one their ancestor, Jaune Arc, used in battle. 'Port has taught her well. But this shows exactly what I was afraid of.'
"So, you're not ready after all," Logan murmured. He gestured to the guards holding the villagers. "Take them to the courtyard and execute them."
Joan fell to her knees, her sword clattering to the ground, and the king gave the soldier holding Yang a nod. "Take her back to the war room. I'll deal with it personally."
"Sir, what about the princess?" the guard asked.
Logan looked at his sister sobbing, and he felt a pang of sympathy got her. Despite his orders, he had no intention of killing either party. It was meant to teach her a lesson, and this was more than enough to show that she still wasn't ready to be the woman Albion needed.
"Escort her to her chambers, please," he ordered quietly.
A soldier hefted her to her feet, and Joan stared back at him with horror and sorrow in her brilliant blue gaze. "How!? How could you do this!?"
Logan didn't answer her as she was escorted out to her chambers, and he stood up from his throne. She didn't know about the threat that lurked across the seas; no one did, but himself.
He left the throne room behind, and sighed. "May Avo forgive me."
The burden of the crown was too heavy for him to bear. He hoped this harsh lesson would set her on the path to become the legend Albion would need her to be.
A/N: So, how is this? Do you like it? Want more? Tell me what you think!
Discord: DPL #5371