Sup.
So, this was supposed to come out Thursday. But on Thursday I had this big epiphany for this series, so I rewrote a lot of my story outline—including the parts of the outline concerning this initial chapter. Thus, I had a lot of rewriting to do for this chapter in specific. Then it got lengthened…
Then I got into a fist-fight over it with a beta-reader. And then I rewrote it all again. Essentially, making a good first chapter—and making sure you have an iron premise for the rest of the story—is hell on earth.
This is my third long chapter fic. It'll update triweekly, on Thursdays. Like the others. With this addition, I'll have more time to structure each chapter for each fic so I think that will result in an overall quality increase for all my big fics.
So that's great.
This is an adventure AU that sort of centers on Jaune. He's definitely the one who's going to receive the most attention, but it's still going to have some emphasis on the other characters outside of boy-wonder.
It's gonna be a helluva lot lighter than TSOV. And it's also set in an alternate universe. Should be fun. If you'd rather read stuff that takes place on Remnant proper—well you could check out my other fics.
I apologize to everyone who ever messaged me annoyed about my non-linear first chapters. I can't help it. It's such a good way to start en media res. I can dive right into the action and then retroactively explain it.
Makes the beginning more interesting—and it lends some weight to the backstory right from the start.
Sigh...why am I even bother to explain. All I'll get is more storyline rewrite requests in my inbox.
Ha.
Also, there is a second reason this chapter is late and that's because it turned out to be a monstrosity nearly 35,000 words long so I've broke it into three parts. So technically all the information that was supposed to be in this story's first chapter is going to be spread out over three... So try to reserve judgement for a bit. Unless you judge that you love it-in that case judge away.
Without further ado...
The Navigator Chapter 1
Present Day
Jaune sputtered and coughed, expelling water from his lungs. He also blinked rapidly, trying to relieve his irritated eyes.
Water.
He'd never wanted something more.
Ironic really.
Considering he was surrounded by the stuff.
His throat and mouth burned like a desert and tasted like sand.
Perhaps the real irony here was that a swallow of ocean-water would only make him thirstier, despite how much relief the cool liquid provided against his sun-beaten skin.
Jaune surveyed the horizon. There wasn't a boat or island in sight. He looked up. Clouds, ominous ones, were forming above him. More threatened to blow in from the east.
So, he wasn't imagining it.
The sea was getting rougher. The swells were getting bigger.
A storm was coming.
Another one.
He had felt the first sign a while back. The wind had picked up. It had changed directions too. He had hoped that it was just residue from last night's typhoon.
No such luck.
Jaune spotted another large swell heading for him. This time he closed his mouth and eyes. For the most part, he rode out the wave, though he still dipped a foot or two underwater.
Yeah, the swells were getting bigger, fast.
Was he in for another night like the last?
Jaune's grip on his lifeline, a fractured wooden door, tightened. His blistered and pruned fingers strained against its solid frame.
Was this it?
Was this where he died? Was this how he died?
He had asked himself the same question the previous night, as he was tossed by waves and pelted by rain.
He'd asked himself over and over throughout the storm.
There were times when he wanted to answer back, 'yes.' There were times when he wanted nothing more than to just let it all end. It was a bad thought, but unavoidable. How could he not consider letting himself slip into the depths? How could he not consider breathing his last?
Surviving in the sea, without a boat, food, or drinkable water was the crème de la crème of bullshit.
He would know. It wasn't his first time doing it.
There were a few aspects of bobbing around in deep water that irritated him—aside from imminent death that was.
First, most of his body was underwater, hidden from the scorching sun—except for his face, home to his most sensitive skin. So, he had sunburn—but only where it hurt the most.
Second, he would occasionally see fish. Swimming beneath him… Jumping out of the water… At first, Jaune had imagined eating one—but he had no way to catch it. And now he was so thirsty that the thought of swallowing—anything really—made him physically ill.
Third, was the water—sloshing all around him. Its salty tasted mocked his parched tongue.
And, finally, the worst part was the waiting. There were only three possible outcomes to Jaune's current predicament. He would happen upon land. Or he would happen upon a ship. Or he would die.
There wasn't much he could do to change his fate.
Currents would take him where they would. Storms and the sun would work on his will. Waves would beat his body. And, eventually, he'd come across salvation or sink to the bottom of the sea.
The sheer pain of waiting to see which would happen was enough to make him let go. Especially since he had a pretty good idea of the odds. He was already in open waters, and given the direction he was heading...
Well, the chances of him running into a ship were becoming infinitely less likely with every bob.
Jaune released the driftwood with his left hand, shaking out his cramping forearm. He regripped and repeated the process with his right.
He was so tired...
Jaune wondered what would happen if he closed his eyes and drifted off. Would he wake up drowning? In immense pain?
Or would he just not wake up at all?
That didn't seem so bad, all things considered. Of course, no way it would that peaceful a passing. Jaune had come close to drowning before—a life at sea meant near-death by drowning was—well it was the most common form of near-death experience.
It wasn't a particularly pleasant way to die. At least, the first half of it wasn't. The fighting, sputtering, burning...
Although, he had heard from those who had gotten past that—actually faded before being resuscitated—that it wasn't half so bad in the end. Like drifting off to sleep.
So, would he fall asleep? Wake up for a brief instant of pain? And then drift back to sleep?
That didn't sound so bad. But he couldn't die here.
It simply wasn't an option.
Every time he closed his eyes he saw their faces from over the years…
Smiling... Happy... Loving...
And then he remembered their faces yesterday.
Terrified... Panicked... Stricken...
Jaune gnashed his teeth, jaw locked.
No, he couldn't die. Not now. Not quite yet.
Not when those...scum had taken his family.
Even more than all the salt in the sea…
Jaune fixed his grip as thunder echoed in the distanced. He closed his eyes as a particularly big swell surged over him.
It was going to be a rough night.
But he was going to survive it. He had to no choice in the matter.
*l*l*
Eight Years Before the Present
Ellie Arc adjusted the focus of her spyglass.
What was that?
There was a tuft of white. And an oaky sort of brown too.
But she still couldn't quite make it out…
Ellie continued to twist the view-finder until the distant spectacle came into focus. She nearly dropped her scope when she realized what she was looking at.
"Dad!" she shouted. Ellie took off down the ship, bare feet slapping against the deck. She ducked under a package being hoisted by Fernando and Pallo.
They yelled at her in their native tongue. Same as yesterday, she had no idea what either one of them were saying. She brushed underneath some clothes dangling from a line stretching from the ship's mast to the outer railing.
She nearly ran into Miss Roselyn. She decided to apologize later, despite the woman's squeal of displeasure. She had another near collision with an Aggie, a boy her age who kept to himself.
She apologized to him in passing.
He shrugged and watched her hurry away.
"Dad!" Ellie shouted again, taking the stairs two at a time. She arrived on the platform overlooking the deck, breathing heavily. She rested her hands on her knees as she sucked in oxygen.
"Ell-bell?" said Mathias Arc, turning towards his daughter but keeping a firm grip on the wooden wheel before him. His right hand drifted down to his sheathed broadsword.
Made sense, the last time Ellie had gone charging up to him this excitedly, spyglass in hand, she had spotted a ship pursuing them from the crows-nest—a perch she was forbidden from visiting, not that she would let something like that stop her.
"Dad! There's someone in the water!"
Mathias went rigid. "Who went overboard!?"
"No!" Ellie shook her head vigorously. "No one went overboard. Someone's stranded out there. Their ship must have sunk."
"Oliver," Mathias motioned to his first-mate, who was standing a few feet back, map in hand. "Take the wheel."
Oliver obeyed immediately.
Mathias took Ellie's small spyglass. "Point them out to me." He bent to her level and followed her pointed finger.
"Do you see him?" Ellie squinted. She could just barely see the pinprick in the distance.
Mathias was silent for a moment, focused. Then he barked, "Oliver, hard to port."
"Hard to port!" Oliver shouted, giving those on the deck a chance to find their footing before the ship began to turn.
"Do you see him?" asked Ellie.
"I see him," confirmed Mathias. "Good catch Ell-Bell."
Ellie grinned when she felt her father's fingers in her hair. He ruffled her nest the way he always did, affectionately.
"If it's just a dead guy can I keep anything we find?"
Mathias stared down at his daughter thoughtfully. "What if he doesn't have anything you want?"
Ellie shrugged. "Just keeping my ship sealed. In case he's got gold or a map or something. Finders keepers. And I found him."
Mathias grinned. "You're sounding like a pirate there, Ell-Bell."
"Ar!" agreed Ellie, threatening her father with a hooked finger.
Mathias raised his hands in surrender. "Can't argue with violence. If we find a corpse. It's all yours."
Ellie smiled, satisfied with her father's response.
She wasn't hoping for a corpse or anything. If they could save someone that would be great too. But a treasure map, wouldn't be bad either.
*l*l*
Still Eight Years Before the Present
He awoke slowly, gradually gaining awareness before his eyes opened.
His head throbbed, and his body ached. And his skin felt…sensitive, as if he was one big wound and air was brandy or rum or whatever his mother put on his cuts.
His mother…?
He tried to picture her.
He had one.
A mother that is.
Everyone had one.
So why couldn't he remember his mother's face? Why couldn't he remember her name? There were some sensations in his memory. A feather touch on his cheeks…pursed lips on his brow…a comb running through his morning locks…a voice humming softly.
Why couldn't he…?
She used to wash his hair. She would sing a song while she lathered him. It had his name in it...
But what was his name?
The boy strained to remember. He recalled his mother's voice, calling after him, cooing...
But what was his name?
What...was...?
Since his memory wasn't answering any questions he decided to open his eyes.
He was immediately assaulted with a pair of curious blue eyes, looming directly over him. "He's awake dad!"
"Give him some space Ell-Bell," said a distinctly masculine voice. "We don't want to overwhelm him."
When the blue-eyed girl rocked back the boy got a better look at the rest of her face. She was pretty, almost angelic, with golden hair, childish cheeks, and an infectious smile.
The man beside her was probably her father. Although, he could have been her much older brother too. They were definitely family though. They both had the same gold-spun hair and the same sky-blue eyes. And there was something in their faces that looked the same too—their noses maybe?
They were both seated in wooden chairs.
"Here," said the man. He placed a hand beneath the boy's back, helping him sit up. He then produced a large cup.
The boy drank the water greedily. It burned all the way down.
But that didn't matter.
The boy gasped for air for a moment and then he dove back into his drink. He didn't stop until the cup was empty, and his stomach was beginning to feel upset.
The man lifted a single eyebrow at the emptied cup. "Thirsty I see."
The boy nodded and prepared himself to respond verbally. His thoughts were cut off by wet dabbing sensation on the left side of his forehead.
The boy jerked back and turned, entirely unaware that there was another person in the room with him.
She was perched on the edge of his bed, bearing a gentle smile and gentler eyes. The woman peered down at him with barely restrained interest. She had the same curious expression on her face as the girl, but more...tempered.
The boy's eyes drifted upwards. Atop her head rested two furry appendages, animal ears. The boy couldn't tell what kind of animal they could be attributed to...
But if the way they were twitching and perking was to be believed...they were a little more than accessories.
He must have stared at her ears for a little too long because the woman suddenly drew a little closer. "Do you want to touch them?"
If he was being honest, the boy sort of did. But something in his mind screamed at him that such a thing would be inappropriate. It was a vague and amorphous memory—without shape or form. But still, the overwhelming sense of it was, one did not simply touch a Faunus person's animal trait.
The boy's voice rasped as he replied to the woman. "S-sorry. I didn't mean to stare. And I don't want to touch them b-because..." His voice broke. He coughed a bit and then continued. "...that would be rude."
The woman looked a little annoyed at his response. Her brows furrowed a bit and her eyes narrowed. "I didn't ask if it was rude to touch my ears. I asked if you wanted to." The woman drew closer. "Here, touch them. I insist, touch them."
The boy leaned away from the persistent woman, wide eyed.
"Honey," began the man on his right, "let's calm down a bit. Maybe get the kid's name before we add him to the litter?"
The boy watched the Faunus retreat. But she didn't move much, nor did she look abashed—at all. "Sorry," she said.
It was obvious she wasn't really.
"What's your name kid?" asked the man.
Right, his name. He hadn't been able to remember that earlier had he? Jaune searched the murky gray concealing his memories as best he could.
Name...name...name...
The man filled the silence in the meanwhile. "I'm Mathias Arc. This is my daughter, Ellie. And," he motioned towards the Faunus across from them. "This is my wife Willow. There are six more girls too..."
"Six more wives?" asked the boy distractedly.
Mathias laughed, but sobered a little under his wife's eyes. "No, six more daughters."
"Oh," said the boy, still focused on remembering his name. It was right there, at the forefront of his memory, he just had to grab hold of it. He just had to make it his.
"My name is..." The boy trailed off. He restarted a moment later. "My name is...Jaune."
"John?" replied Mathias.
"Ja-une," corrected the boy, gaining confidence.
He had remembered his name. That was a start.
"What's your last name?"
Jaune refocused himself on his memories. It was in there, just like his first name. If he could just blow the mist obscuring his memories...
He tried to penetrate the gray barrier—but to no avail.
For two or three minutes he sat in silence. Three expectant stares locked onto him. Finally, he spoke, in a whisper, "I can't remember."
"What did he say!?", shouted a feminine voice from outside the room. "Did he say his last name is December?"
For the first time, Jaune took stock of his surroundings, aside from the three people who surrounded him. He was in a fairly bare wooden room. It wasn't spacious, but it wasn't too tight either. The area was illuminated by two swinging lanterns, hung from hooks in the ceiling.
Opposite Jaune stood a closed wooden door, behind which was the owner of the girly voice.
"He sounds alright to me," chimed a new voice, again, from behind the door. "So, can we come in now?"
"No," Ellie yelled back. "There's too many of you! Just go away!"
The first voice spoke up again. "Who died and put you in charge Ellie?"
"Girls," began Mathias. "How about we—"
Ellie interrupted him. "No one had to die. I'm just smarter than you Crystal!"
"You are dead when you come out of there Ellie. D-E—"
"Don't forget the A," interrupted Ellie.
"I wasn't going to forget the A," screamed Crystal.
"Sure, you weren't," Ellie rolled her eyes at Jaune.
She was visibly pleased when she spotted him suppressing a smile.
"Girls," said Willow. Unlike Mathias, she was not interrupted. "Go clean your quarters. All of you. Except Cece. She can come in."
The door reverberated with the girl's collection of moans and whines.
Ellie looked...smug.
"Why is Cece allowed in?"
Jaune could hear the pout in Crystal's voice. A second later, he saw it on her face, when the door opened. Six girls stared at him intensely from beyond the doorway. Crystal was the one at the front, Jaune could tell from how twisted up her lips were. That was definitely the girl whose voice he had just heard. The girl was wearing, what had to be, the most exaggerated pout of all time.
The girl's Faunus trait added to the effectiveness of her pout. Crystal had inherited her mother's ears, but the colors did not match. One was covered in blond fur, the other brown.
One other girl had animal ears as well. She, and the girl next to her with identical features, minus the ears, both looked the least interested. The others were the same as Ellie, no noticeable Faunus traits.
Or...wait.
Jaune watched the smallest girl shuffle inside the room, blanket clutched to her chest. She looked to be about three or four years old. A bushy tail trailed lazily behind her.
So, three girls with obvious Faunus traits—four without.
"Close the door behind you Cece,"
"Cece don—"
Crystal's plea was cut off by the door closing.
"Go clean your quarters!" shouted Willow through the closed doors.
Several groans and "yes ma'ams" were the response.
Willow turned her attention to Cece, her youngest—or so Jaune assumed—daughter. "You know why you're here don't you?"
Cece nodded, raising her arms. Willow snatched her off the ground. "Mama, needs her cuddles!"
Jaune watched Willow nuzzle her daughter, stroking the girl's tail while humming. Cece relaxed into her Willow's ministrations, closing her eyes and resting her head on her mother's chest.
"Um." Jaune cleared his throat. "Who are you guys?" Jaune winced at the way the question sounded.
Mathias, conversely, did not seem at all bothered by his bluntness. "Well, we're the Arcs—and you're onboard The Merchant's Boon. Ellie here spotted you barely staying above water a day ago. We managed to fish you out just after you slipped under. Your lungs were full of water but my wife..." Mathias nodded towards the woman currently enthralled with her daughter, "managed to get you breathing again."
"Oh," said Jaune. What was he supposed to say to the people who saved his life? "Thanks." That felt light—but he wasn't sure what to add.
"You slept nearly 24 hours," continued Mathias. "Ell-Bell kept an eye on you for most of that time. She's the one who called us when you started muttering and it looked like you might wake up. All the girls have been in here at some point—and some of the other children as well, you've been quite a tourist attraction."
Jaune, again, wasn't sure how to reply. "Oh, that's funny." He tried again, struggling to avoid sounding like a moron. He wasn't—he knew that—but he also wasn't sure what to say or ask. He finally settled on asking, "so, you guys are merchants?"
"She is," replied Mathias, pointing at his wife. "I'm a sailor, captain of the ship actually. The The Merchant's Boonis a guild ship. So, there are several merchant families aboard—along with the crew."
"I see," said Jaune. He turned to Willow. "so, what do you sell?"
Willow looked up from the fluffy tail she had buried her face in. "textiles, silk, satin, felt...but..." Her voice went low. "Never fur."
Ah. No fur. That made sense. All things considered.
He watched the woman resume stroking her daughter's tail.
"I think you mean, 'no fur, unless you smell a profit'," said Mathias. "Then fur is back on the table, as are skinning knives, leather, and god knows what else."
Willow grinned. It wasn't the sort of smile one would expect from her appearance. She had some sharp canine teeth. "Hey, I've got a family to feed."
"And you do a great job of it," replied Mathias with an equally devious yet slightly less feral smile.
"Damn right I do."
Jaune glanced between the two adults. Something about their interaction...
The feeling the two of them gave off...
It felt familiar. Very familiar.
But why?
"Captain!"
Jaune was pulled from his thoughts by a deep shout. He heard a man's heavey tread approaching and then several loud knocks on the door.
"Captain!"
"What is it Oliver?" asked Mathias.
"Pirates!"
Mathias was at the door in an instant. He threw it open. A man dressed in ratty pants that stopped at his calves and a white buttoned shirt that looked significantly nicer stood at attention.
Jaune watched the two of them, mind racing.
Pirates.
He had some faint notion that, at some point, in his past, he had wanted to be a pirate.
That he had wanted to sail the seven seas searching for fame, treasure, and adventure. He would be a rogue, a forget-me-not, a bandit of the sea.
But that didn't feel right now.
For some reason the word, 'pirate' resonated with him in an entirely different fashion. It was something in his memories, obscured behind that misty veil.
Jaune clawed at those memories, attempting to unearth them.
Meanwhile, Mathias question his fellow crew-member. "How close?"
"Two hours if we stay on route, three if we focus on fleeing."
"That much lighter huh...?"
"Probably a quarter of our bulk with just as much sail."
Mathias nodded. "Sound the alarm. Defensive prep. All fighters armed. Non-fighters in the quarters below. Keep our course as is. No need to screw up our time-tables. Let's also..."
Mathias's voice faded as the two men walked away from the room.
Jaune glanced from Ellie to Willow uncertainly. Neither seemed very concerned by the threat of pirates.
Pirates.
It struck Jaune without warning. A downpour of images, sensations, and sounds.
There were screams. There was fire. There was the sound of wood cracking, splintering, and collapsing. There was the glint of blades surrounded by flickering flames. There was the blood dripping through the decks floorboards, which smelled like copper and gunpowder. There were the gurgling gasps of the deceased as they gave up their ghosts. There was the smoke, thick and viscous. Not enough to obscure the nightmare, but enough to rob the lungs of air. There was also the cackling. The incessant laughter as they danced through the carnage.
Last was a wide mouthed smile, stretched like a drum, dirty teeth surrounded by gold, all tinged a bloody red.
Before Jaune could process what he had seen, he screamed.
He flailed.
He kicked.
He sobbed.
And he did not know why.
What were these flashes? What were these feelings? Was it...memory? Had these things happened to him? Had he seen them?
Or had he just made it up?
And why was he crying?
Why were grief, fear, and rage pulsing through him in equal measures? Why were his fists clenched so tight his fingernails were drawing blood? Why were his eyes so watery that he'd lost the ability to see? Why was his body trembling, limbs shaking outside of control?
Why?
Vaguely, as if he were underwater, he could hear his name being called.
Jaune tried his best to reply. To stop screaming. To take a breath.
But he was no longer within his own body.
Or perhaps he was. Perhaps he was too inside of his own body.
It was as if he was trapped in some deep sunken place—a prison in his own mind. His eyes were working, they should have been. He could see the blurry waterlogged world outside of him.
Yet...it didn't make sense. There was a disconnect between those images and the mind that was supposed to interpret them.
His shaking grew worse, arms now flailing about wildly.
Jaune could feel himself tossing his arms about like a madman—but he had no power to stop it.
What was happening to him?
His screaming stopped for an instant. Just long enough for him to suck in a deep breath and then he resumed.
Two sets of hands were suddenly on his arms. Holding him down. His left arm was pinned firmly. There was too much weight for him to budge it. But his right...
With a roar, Jaune whipped his right hand around. He connected with something solid before cracking his knuckles on the bed's headboard. He felt the pain, but did nothing more than acknowledge its existence. Still, it added a bit of clarity to his rage. His screams became a bit more coherent.
"Pirate!" He sat up, struggling against the grip on his left arm. "Let me go pirate!"
Suddenly his back was driven back into his cushions. There was a heavy weight on his chest and there was a voice in his ear—so loud, it was impossible to ignore.
"Jaune! Calm down! We aren't pirates! We're your friends!"
Jaune's body siezed up all at once.
His flailing ceased. His next scream died in his throat. He was panting, desperately gulping air, slowly returning to reality. It was the taste of blood that brought him the rest of the way back.
Gradually Jaune became aware of a crying child. Cece. He must have terrified her.
The grip on his left arm loosened, he could hear a woman shushing and whispering. Cece's cries quickly subsided.
Jaune blinked back the tears still crowding his vision.
He was...surprised by what he, eventually, made out. Just as she had when he first woke up earlier, Ellie loomed above him. She was straddling his stomach. Her eyes were full of worry and concern. Jaune's gaze flickered to the side of her face.
A gash ran from just outside her left eye to the middle of her cheek.
It was her blood dripping down onto his lips.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Jaune suddenly sat up, causing her to jerk away so much she nearly toppled backwards. Jaune managed to catch her though, she settled on his lap.
Jaune stared at her injury, words escaping him. He reached up, intending to touch the laceration. "Did I do this?" he asked, hoping his voice conveyed the horror he felt.
"No." Ellie didn't so much as flinch as she replied. "I slipped and hit my face on the stand."
Jaune glanced at the nightstand to his right. Sure enough, there was blood on the corner, as well as a bit on the floor near it.
He turned back to Ellie. Her right cheek, where he had hit her, was already swelling up. What was even the point of lying to him about this?
"I'm so sorry," began Jaune. "I don't—"
Ellie grabbed his hand before he could touch the wound. "Don't worry about it right now. Are you alright?"
Don't worry about it?
He watched more blood drip down the side of her face.
What was this girl?
Rather than answer Ellie's question, Jaune scooted to the edge of the bed. Ellie still on him. The girl was clearly confused, up until the moment he supported her weight and stood.
"What are you..."
She trailed off as he gently set her back on the bed. The girl returned to confusion when he pulled the sheets up to her chest, like a parent tucking in a child or a nurse their patient.
What should he do? What should he say? Sure, Ellie didn't seem mad, or even like she was in pain. But look at how much blood she was losing! It probably wasn't life threatening or anything. But the knowledge that he had been the one to do that to her pressed down on him like a boulder in a bag.
He needed to do something, obviously. He need to help Ellie, to make it right—well as best he could. The question, was how...?
"Misses Arc..." His words caught in his throat as he turned towards Ellie's mother.
Would she be enraged? Would she want him off the ship? Would she have him locked up in the brig?
"I—I'm so sorry I don't know...why I..." Jaune trailed off. What was he even supposed to say? How was he supposed to explain what had just happened when he didn't have a clue?
A few more whispered words from the Arc matron calmed Cece down to muted sniffles. She then turned her attention to him and Ellie.
Her eyes were absent the anger Jaune expected. Her expression was just like Ellie's, laced with concern. Not just for him, obviously, but for the two daughters he had just traumatized.
That lack of hatred gave Jaune a bit more confidence. "I don't know what just happened to me. I'm so sorry. I—could you show me where the bandages are?"
Willow stared at him, wordlessly.
For a moment, Jaune thought she might tell him he had done enough, and to leave.
Instead, she said, "drawer on the night stand next to you."
Jaune pulled open the drawer and snatched the red bag within. He withdrew the items he thought he'd need, alcohol…gauze…cotton balls…
tweezers...?
Wipes…?
Tissues…?
Iodine…?
Jaune's eyes began to water again. It didn't help that Ellie was still looking at him with such concern, despite the injury he had inflicted upon her.
"Jaune," Ellie's voice was soft. "My dad is a semblance user and so are a couple other people on the ship. Everyone's really strong. We run into pirates all the time. So, don't cry."
Was she still trying to comfort him?
The thought put a warmth and a pit in his stomach.
He swiped at his eyes. "I'm not crying because of the pirates…" Saying the word triggered something in him, but it was nothing like before. He clamped down on that surge of emotion and pushed it aside. "…it's just…" Jaune lifted the medical equipment he had withdrawn from the first aid kit. "I don't know how to use any of this stuff."
Ellie stared at him.
Jaune looked down at his hands.
"What?" said Ellie finally.
"Your cut, I don't know how to bandage it."
"You're crying because you don't know first-aid?"
"No," began Jaune, starting to tear up again. "I just didn't mean to hurt you, and now I don't know how to fix it…" His chest heaved. With no small amount of self-loathing, Jaune realized he was about to sob again.
He jumped when he felt two hands on his shoulders. "Cece, go help your sisters clean up."
Cece protested cutely, but Willow was immune. The girl shuffled out of the room.
"Let's clean Ellie up together, okay Jaune?"
Jaune nodded.
"You can help me with the bandages, but first I need to clean it. It's going to sting a little so why don't you go around to the other side of the bed and distract her?"
Jaune nodded. He could do that.
Ellie's eyes tracked him as he maneuvered around the bed. When he arrived she turned her head, giving her mother better access to her cut and her a better view of Jaune. "You're a bit of a crybaby aren't you Jaune?"
Her tone was teasing, but Jaune could not help but answer her seriously. "I don't think so. I don't think I've always been like that about…pirates. I think I wanted to be one when I was a kid, maybe. I just…I can't remember anything…" Jaune wondered if his voice sounded as scared as her felt. It was strange, his memory being so selective.
It was as if he was half a person.
"Don't worry about it." Ellie winced as her mother dabbed at the split along her face with a cotton ball. "It's better if you don't remember anything."
"Why?" asked Jaune.
"Because I'm going to build you from the ground up. You'll be the best little brother ever."
Willow snickered, audibly.
Jaune fought off the faintest trace of a smile. "Are you even older than me?"
"How old are you?"
Jaune thought for a moment. He gave up when he ran into the gray mist. "Can't remember."
Ellie grinned. "Then little brother it is."
*l*l*
Five Years Two Months Before the Present
Jaune yawned, swatting at whatever was poking him, unwilling to open his eyes, determined to stay asleep.
The poking, however, did not stop. It became obvious that the determination of the "poker" was several times stronger than that of the "poke-ee" so, after enduring for two or three minutes, Jaune sat up, acting as if she had just then succeeded in waking him. He stretched his sore spine, listening for the telltale pop of his vertebrae decompressing.
Sleeping up here was a pain. It hadn't been a year ago. But it was now. He was nearly six feet tall, and the crow's nest was a circle about five feet in diameter. The only way for him to lay down was to curve himself into a sort of crescent shape, either on his side, along the rim of the bowl, or on his back, in the middle. He preferred the second option, it left him less sore in the morning.
Sadly—or, rather, quite happily in fact—the second option often was not available to him. There wasn't enough room for it with two people up here. And he was rarely in the nest—or anywhere if he was being honest with himself—without his "other half."
Ellie fit into the confined space of the nest several times better than Jaune. She was still just about as petite as when Jaune had first met her, a bit womanlier, but only in a twelve-year-old kind of way. She had clearly been awake for a while. Her chin and arms rested lightly on the lip of the nest. Her eyes were locked on the edge of the sun.
Jaune winced at the way her scar reflected the light. The skin was perpetually pale, a stark contrast to the rest of Ellie's sun-kissed tone. He felt terrible when he spent too much time looking at it. That wasn't to say he thought it made her look bad.
He thought it rather complimented her tough-as-nails personality and, otherwise, perfectly symmetrical face.
But that didn't mean he didn't regret having been the one to inflicted the wound.
Jaune followed her gaze to the horizon. A halo of red, orange, and yellow peeked over the sea.
It was a good view. Sunrises were always nice when they were at sea. They were even better following a storm.
The monsoon the previous night was brief, but it was enough to produce the sort of bluish sunrise that Ellie loved.
Which was why she had dragged him up here an hour before dawn.
Ellie exhaled. "It's so beautiful."
Jaune nodded. "Yeah, it's alright."
Ellie rolled her eyes at his nonchalance. "Here, you heathen." She offered him her brush.
Jaune glared at her tangled net of golden hair in despair. "Must I?"
"Sorry, Jaune, that's just the role of a little brother. They brush their sister's hair."
"Do they really though?" asked Jaune, though he was already working the brush through her hair. "I don't have a lot to go on, but my little brother instincts are telling me I should be yanking, not brushing."
"What do your little brother instincts say about fifty-foot falls?"
Jaune peered over the edge of the nest. The deck looked a little further away than fifty feet. "I think they're telling me to go with a Mistralian braid."
Ellie hummed. "They just keep getting better every day, don't they?"
"Yeah, I keep telling them to slow down, but someone's got it stuck in their head that they've gotta be perfect."
Ellie laughed. "I wonder who that someone is?"
Jaune worked out a knot gently with his finger before taking the brush to that section. "Real mystery."
The two sat in amiable silence for a few moments before Jaune asked, "shouldn't we get down before we get in trouble?"
"If dad wants to get mad at me for being up here, he can come up here and get me himself."
Jaune scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You're not the one getting beaten with a wooden sword every other day."
"Dad's not beating you," replied Ellie. "He's training and beating you."
Ah, Ellie's weapon-of-choice, the 'distinction without a difference.' Jaune didn't mind it. But if Aren were up here the two sisters would have duked it out until, inevitably, they fell to the deck a tree-length below.
"And you know I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat. It's not fair. You, Alana, Crystal, he's training all of you. Me? I just get 'keep studying' or 'go back to your books'. How weak does he think I am?"
"You and I both know he doesn't think you're weak," said Jaune. "He knows you're smart. He wants you to do something with that big brain."
Ellie huffed. "Whose side are you on?"
"The truth's."
"I'll show you the truth..." Ellie trailed off.
Jaune had a feeling Ellie was about to whirl on him and, either, beat him with her hair brush, or tickle him in such a way that he felt uncomfortable pushing her off.
Neither event would be particularly pleasant this high off the ground. How was he supposed to flee?
Fortunately, the torture was prevented by Crystal's face suddenly peering down at them. She swung on the rope netting that stretched a few feet above the nest. Her left hand and left foot dangled over empty space. "Figured I'd find you lovebirds up here. This where the magic happens?"
"Crystal..." Ellie's voice was a not so much a warning as it was a threat. A serious one.
Crystal was, as always, immune. She laughed behind her hand.
"What magic?" asked Jaune. He wasn't dumb. He knew what Crystal was talking about. But if he spurred on an argument between her and Ellie here it would leave him an opening to make an escape. He'd rather avoid a beating or a tickling treatment from Ellie. The rocking of the boat was beginning to affect him. His stomach was complaining that he hadn't taken his medicine this morning. Throwing up in this giant bowl-shaped nest was a terrible idea. Cleaning would be a pain... He couldn't imagine what Ellie would do to him if any got on her...
Yeah. It was time to go.
"Oh, you know, the making out and stuff," said Crystal without a hint of shame.
Jaune, despite expecting a comment like that, felt a bit of heat pepper his face. It was nothing compared to Ellie's red-faced fury though.
"Crystal! I told you to stop implying uncouth things about Jaune and I. He's our little brother!"
"Not so little anymore, though, is he?" Crystal's ears perked up the way they always did when she was amused. It looked similar to the way her ears behaved when she was listening intently to something in the distance.
Jaune had a theory, that when she was teasing, the girl listened to her victim's breathing, heartbeat, and the like—to ensure she was torturing them effectively.
Crystal had never confessed to as much. But she did claim to have the best hearing out of the Arcs with Faunus ear traits. So that probably meant something.
"Don't worry Jaune. I think Ellie like's 'em tall."
"I do not..." Ellie's shouted denial trailed into oblivion as she glanced at Jaune. Her face was red. Much redder than Crystal normally managed to make her.
She must have been furious.
Jaune spoke up. "Do you need something Crystal?"
"Thanks for asking," she chirped. "I was having this fun conversation with Ellie last night and she vanished on me! I figured it'd be a little harder for her to get away up here.
"Too bad there's only room for two up here," said Ellie.
"Let's switch spots," recommended Jaune.
"What?" cried Ellie, voice dripping with the pain of betrayal.
Crystal cheered. "That's right, I'm his big sister too, you don't get to train him to be an obedient little brother and then expect him not to listen to me!"
Well, that wasn't really true. Jaune would be a hundred times more comfortable ignoring Crystal than he would be ignoring Ellie.
But, there wasn't much reason to bring that up now, was there?
Jaune stood and dusted off his pants. As Crystal stepped into the nest he latched on to the rope ladder.
"Jaune, don't you dare leave me with this miscreant."
Jaune handed his 'sister' back her brush, stepping off the platform. "Sorry Ellie, but I didn't take my medicine this morning...besides, you're sisters...you should..." Jaune considered what he was trying to say. "...talk and stuff," he finished lamely.
"Yeah, Ellie. Don't you want to talk to me?" Crystal's voice was borderline sadistic.
"Jaune!" screamed Ellie.
Jaune couldn't hear her. The wind was whistling too loudly as he descended.
"Jaune!" Her voice was angrier.
Too bad he couldn't hear her.
"Jaune!"
Just listen to that ocean.
"Hey Jaune."
Jaune dropped the rest of the way to the deck. "Good morning Pallo." Jaune greeted the swarthy man with a smile and a wave.
Pallo was greeting the morning sun with a series of martial arts stretches. Jaune had asked him what the purpose of all the slow movements and difficult poses was a year ago. Pallo claimed it was to balance his aura and open the points in his body through which it flowed. It, supposedly, increased health, fortune, and happiness.
Jaune wasn't sure about all of that. But the man was a certified badass at hand-to-hand combat. Jaune had tried to learn from him.
It hadn't gone well.
Jaune saluted up towards the helmsman. The man was dutifully holding the ship's wheel steady.
Ripley responded with a question. "Where the hell is Oliver! He was supposed to relieve me at sun-up!"
Jaune shrugged. "Really? He got awful drunk last night for a man who had to be up early."
Ripley released a long string of swears. "I'm practically sleeping standing up here Jaune. Someone needs to replace me!"
"I'll look for Oliver. And—if I can't find him—I'll relieve you myself. Sound good?"
Ripley nodded. "Hurry. I'm starting to see icebergs. I'm ignoring them for now but if one of them turns out to be real we'll be screwed."
Jaune chuckled. Ripley was always "seeing icebergs." The man had become fond of the expression ever since they had passed one when traveling through northern waters.
Jaune disappeared into the ship's living area. Others were just now waking up. Jaune waved to a boy a few years younger than him—Greg, son of the resident carpenter. Jaune continued down the hall until he found the Arc partition of the ship. Four rooms set across from each other down a narrow hall. Jaune's "room" was less a room and more a closet with a bed. Actually, that was exactly what it was—a closet with a bed.
There was just enough room for the door to open before his bed dominated the rest of the space. There was also enough room for a small stand with several drawers in the corner.
Changing was a hassled within the confined space. Sometimes he would put on his pants while lying in bed because it was safer than banging into walls as he clumsily attempted to line up his legs.
Yeah, the room was small. But it suited him just fine. After all, he didn't spend much time in his quarters.
How could he? There was always something interesting to do or learn on deck. Mathias was always willing to improve his navigating skills or help him practice drawing maps. Pallo knew every knot in history, and was always more than happy to share. Oliver had more knowledge about ships than…
Well more knowledge than was necessary, if Jaune was being frank. Understanding the difference between starboard and port was important. Understanding how to operate the sails was important. Learning how to fix and patch damage to the ship was important
Knowing what tree made the best keel… And the name of the shipwright who first used that tree as a keel. And the prime climate conditions in which to raise that tree for ship use in, approximately, its twenty-sixth year…
Well…some of that information felt a little over the top.
Just a little.
Jaune opened his top drawer and grabbed a small metal box. He replaced the container after picking out a pill and popping it into his mouth. That would settle his stomach after a few minutes.
Ugh. Seasickness was just the worst.
Especially since he lived on a boat. That 'merciful' god Willow was always talking about had managed to afflict Jaune with a disorder so ironic in its cruelty that it was almost eclipsed by its comedy.
Almost.
Jaune shut his door behind him as he made his way down the hall. He expected Oliver to be dead-drunk in his bedroom—Jaune supposed he'd check their first. He paused when he heard hushed voices whispering from Mathias and Willow's bedroom. Jaune didn't intend to eavesdrop but when he heard his name he couldn't help but reverse his pace and place an ear lightly against the couple's closed door.
"…I'm not saying that Will, I love Jaune too. I'm just…wondering if there's not more we could be doing for him. We've asked about pirate attacks around the time when we found him. Shipwrecks...Missing children… Children assumed to have drowned… We ask, but it's always just been something we do in addition to our business at the port. Maybe it's time we were more…intentional?"
"I think we need to talk to Jaune about this Matt... Because if he really wants to leave us…"
Jaune's eyes widened when he heard the Arc Matron's voice crack. Was she on the verge of tears? The very idea of Willow Arc on the cusp of any sort of emotional breakdown was foreign, strange, and felt…wrong.
"…if he really wants to go I think we should help him but…" Willow's words began to run together. "But I consider him my son, and if he doesn't see me as his mother than he should go find his real one because I want him to be happy but I…"
Willow trailed off as, Jaune assumed, her husband comforted her.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. You're okay. You're right. We do need to talk to Jaune. He's as big as a man now, at least." Mathias chuckled. "Jaune's a smart kid. He'll tell us what he wants to do. I just…need to make sure, if he does say that he wants to find his biological parents, you won't think that's somehow your fault. That you're a bad mother because of it."
There was a moment of silence before Willow replied. "I'm a terrible person."
"What!?", said Mathias.
Jaune shared the man's incredulity.
Willow continued, "I think about Jaune's parents sometimes. I think about his mother. I think about how, if she's alive, she must miss her beautiful little boy. I think about her crying. And I just want to give her a hug…"
"I fail to see how that makes you a terrible person."
"Because," answered Willow. "I want to give her a hug. But…" Willow's voice began to crack again "…I don't want to give her Jaune."
Mathias laughed at the distinction. "You're a protective mom. There's nothing wrong with that."
"There is when the boy I'm protecting doesn't call me mom and the woman I'm protecting him from gave birth to him."
"Well…" began Mathias. He faded off, clearly unsure how to finish. Willow had a point.
After some quiet, Willow spoke again, "I've got an idea."
"Oh?"
"Let's ask Jaune if he wants to become an Arc—officially. Jaune Arc. It has a nice ring to it doesn't it?"
"It does," said Mathias. "And you know how much I'd love a son. But how about we talk to Jaune about his family before we start asking him to officially join ours?"
"I guess," Willow responded, with a hint of petulance.
Jaune smiled when he heard the whine in her voice. She must have been feeling better if she was able to make voices like that. She had probably sorted her feelings out—at least a little.
He, on the other hand, had grown remarkably confused. The Arc family was a group of amazing people. The clan stood as a testament to Mathias's and Willow's parenting skills and—naturally—the fact that they were amazing people too.
Ellie had, essentially, forced him into the role of her brother from day one.
And he had accepted the duties and responsibilities of that role without complaint. In the beginning it had probably helped that he felt guilty enough about the scar he had given her to do just about anything to make up for it.
Now he let her yank him around because…well…it was Ellie. That's what she did. So, yeah, she was his "sister"—sort of, maybe friend was more accurate. But "sister" was still close enough.
Now, his relationship with Willow and Mathias was different. He'd always considered them his saviors. He looked to them as the people to whom he owed his life. But calling them "mom" or "dad" had always felt like the sort of thing he needed explicit permission to do. As if he would be crossing some invisible boundary by doing it.
Surprisingly, it sounded as if there was a similar boundary surrounding him. A boundary that had prevented the Arc adults from asking him whether he'd like to be their son. It was an awkward, yet amusing situation.
Jaune prepared to slink off. He would find somewhere private to process this information. Ellie would eventually find him, if Cece or Mist didn't first, but hopefully he would have figured out what he was going to do with this new information by then.
"Hey Jaune, whatcha listening to?"
Jaune whirled. He'd been so focused on the conversation behind the doors he hadn't noticed Cece enter the hall. Her tail wagged with her usual morning energy and her smile was wide as a boat. There was something incredibly soothing about Cece's eagerness to greet her loved ones every morning. It was incredibly refreshing.
Jaune turned, leaning his back against the door. "Well—"
Jaune's explanation came to an instant halt when the door behind him swung open. Jaune feel backwards, eyes wide. He landed on his butt. Two feminine arms looped around his.
"W-what?" was all he managed to stammer as he was dragged into the Arc Master bedroom. Jaune watched Cece's questioning eyes until he was released and Willow went for the door. Once it was closed Willow leaned against it, arms splayed, eyes narrow and locked on Jaune.
Jaune glanced behind him. Mathias was watching with a mixture of amusement and confusion. The man looked as if he was watching a clown rob a bank.
"How much did you hear?" asked Willow.
"Are you going to kill me if I say a lot?" asked Jaune, laughing nervously. He was still recovering from the way he'd just been extracted from the hall.
Willow pushed off the door, sighing. "No. This actually makes things simpler doesn't it?"
Mathias moved to join his wife by the door. "I'd say so. Jaune, what are your thoughts on what we were just discussing?"
Ah. So, that thing, where he was going to process this information overload and figure out what he should do with it all.
Looked like that was off the table now.
Jaune tried to sort out his feelings as he answered the adults' question.
"You guys know I can't remember much about my life before you all picked me up."
Mathias and Willow nodded.
"I think I was on a ship. And I think we were attacked by pirates. That would at least explain why I can't even stand the thought of them." Jaune shuddered.
"Sure." Willow nodded, clearly, she wanted him to get to the points she didn't already know.
Only problem was Jaune was trying to figure that stuff out too.
"To be honest, I've wondered about my family. Were they on that ship too? Did they die? How did I escape? That sort of thing. But I've never felt like I had to go find them..."
It wasn't until Jaune had said it that he realized just how true that statement was. His curiosity concerning his roots had always been idle. Never active. Was that because he didn't care? Because people didn't matter to him?
"...because, even though we've never made it official or anything, I've just been thinking of you guys as family."
Willow's smile was bright enough be mistaken for a distress signal. She placed a hand on her husband's shoulder as she bounced up and down. "I told you! I told you I was a good mom!"
"No one ever said you weren't," replied Mathias. "I said Jaune's decision regarding his past doesn't say anything about—"
Willow interrupted him. "You were just saying that in case he said he wanted to leave."
"I definitely wasn't."
Willow was already on her knees, next to Jaune, hugging him. "Oh, this is just too perfect! Let's stop at a government building on the next island and make Jaune an Arc!"
Mathias rolled his eyes at his wife's eclectic behavior but smiled regardless. "I think we can manage that."
Jaune smiled as Willow practically rammed his face into her shoulder, forcing him to reciprocate the massive hug. "Guess I'll be Ellie's brother for real now huh?"
Willow suddenly shoved Jaune away. It was so sudden he landed on his back "Oh! I forgot about that!" She raised her thumb to her mouth and chewed on her nail. "That won't work," she muttered.
Jaune sat up. "Um, Mrs. Arc—?"
She cut him off. "Call me mom from here on out."
"O-okay. M-mom. What should I call..." He glanced up at Mathias.
Mathias opened his mouth.
Willow spoke first, although, she was clearly distracted by...something. "He's a man. He doesn't care what you call him. Captain, Mr. Arc, Matt, Dad, take your pick."
Jaune looked back at Mathias. He certainly didn't look as if he wanted Jaune to pick a name at random. Instead of saying as much, Mathias asked, "honey, is something wrong?"
Willow nodded, standing next to her beloved husband. "We can't adopt Jaune. We'll have to make him our son the other way."
"The other way?" questioned Mathias and Jaune simultaneously.
Jaune was still confused when Mathias's face transformed into one of realization. Suddenly he was glaring at Jaune suspiciously. "What the hell does she mean by that Jaune?"
Jaune raised two open palms. How, exactly, had this entire thing just turned against him? "Why are you asking me? I don't know what she means!"
"Really...?" insisted Mathias. The captain squinted at him as if his eyesight was failing.
"Of course, he doesn't," said Willow. "That's because he's stupid. And so are you. And so is every other man in the world."
"How am I stupid?" asked Mathias. "Jaune I understand, he looks like he doesn't even know what we're talking about—"
"Hey!"
"—but how am I stupid?"
"Because you know at least some of your daughters are going to get married someday."
"Well, sure. When they're thirty. And financially stable—and maybe not ever if we can get them interested in some other hobbies. I've heard girls are getting really into this sport from the island of Lah-Crose, maybe if we get them all interested in going pro that'll distract them from—"
Willow interrupted Mathias's rambling with a question that looked as if it would just about kill the man. "Married at thirty—to some man you hardly know? Or married at eighteen to Jaune?"
Mathias froze.
As did Jaune.
Marriage? His mouth made a small circle shaped as he realized what this "other" method of becoming a son entailed.
"Y-you can't just. That's not a f-fair question..."
Jaune had never seen the ship captain reduced to a stuttering mess before. It was weird. And oddly terrifying.
Especially the way his wife kept grinning malevolently at him.
"Was the question not specific enough?" Willow's innocent voice was in stark contrast to her malicious face. "How about this? Ellie married to the shipwrecked project of a man she'll undoubtedly take pity on right around when she's ready for children? Or Jaune?"
"I...I..." Mathias pupils were dilated. His jaw was slack.
"What do you think Jaune?" Willow turned her gaze on him. "Would you rather marry Ellie—or watch her get married to a drunk abusive lazy husk of a man?"
Jaune's eyes widened even more. He couldn't put his finger on it. But there was something about that question that felt broken and inherently unfair.
"It's not rhetorical Jaune. Which do you prefer?"
Jaune swallowed. "M-marrying her?"
Willow turned to her husband, who had relaxed a little. Jaune wasn't sure why. She placed her hands on his chest and looked up at him.
"Guess we'll have to wait a few years but Jaune'll still be an Arc."
Mathias quirked an eyebrow up. "Are you done?"
Willow dropped her hands and released an annoyed huff. "It's not as fun once you calm down."
"Well, excuse me for not enjoying being worked up as much as you enjoy watching me get worked up."
"You're forgiven," responded Willow magnanimously.
"So, do you want to adopt Jaune at the next port?"
"Oh, no." Willow reached for the door. "You misunderstand, I was serious about that part. Adopting Jaune officially could put our dear little Ellie in a very uncomfortable position over the next few years."
Mathias stepped aside. "What do you mean? Ellie doesn't have any interest in boys."
Willow opened the door. "And she may never have any interest in boy-s." She placed unnatural emphasis on the 's' at the end of 'boys.' "But she's definitely..."
Willow trailed off as she looked down at Mist. The girl was crouched, her Faunus ears stood erect. She stared at her mother as if she had been caught stealing food from the galley.
"You heard all of that, didn't you Mist?"
Mist nodded.
Willow bent, leveling her eyes with her daughter's. "It'd be pretty unreasonable of me to ask you not to share all of this with your sisters wouldn't it?"
Mist nodded again, slower, uncertain of where this was heading.
"But we talked about a lot and I'm sure it'll get all jumbled if you try to go through all of it. So, here's what I want you to take away from all this. Jaune..." She pointed back towards him. "...is our son now because he's Ellie's fiance."
Mist's eyes lit up as if she was a reporter who had just received the perfect sound-bite.
"Will!" Mathias shouted.
"Run," said Willow.
Suddenly she and Mist were gone, dashing down the hall, no doubt heading for the deck.
Mathias took off after them a second later.
Jaune was left on his butt, in their bedroom, uncertain of what had just transpired. The confusion wasn't foreign or strange. He'd been with the Arcs for almost three years now. They were...an unusual bunch. Half-human, half-Faunus. Seven children—all girls. A hyper-mother who could switch from child to authoritarian to sales-man at the drop of a hat. A father with ridiculous strength—but a softness for children.
Oh. And they all lived on a boat.
Jaune pushed himself to his feet.
This kind of stuff was just what it meant to be an Arc.
And it never failed to bring a smile to his face.
Jaune exited the bedroom. What had he been doing?
Right.
Looking for Oliver.
*l*l*
Present Day
"God help us," said Pallo, accent thick.
Jaune followed his father's gaze. He spun as he surveyed the horizon in every direction. More than two dozen ships, all flying the same skull and crossbones banner. They were still a mile or two out, but their precise spacing, despite the incredible circumference of their circle. only made them seem even more intimidating. They were on every side. And they were drawing incrementally closer. All at an even pace.
"Why would his fleet be this far east?" asked Mathias.
Jaune wished he had an answer for him. He really did.
"Do we surrender?" asked Oliver.
"To what grisly fate?" asked Mathias. "Pillaging, murder, and rape?"
Jaune ground his teeth.
Pirates.
Why was it always pirates?
The Merchant's Boon, had been attacked by buccaneers several times since Jaune had joined. But never by one of the big crews. They were a merchant ship. They were always careful to stay out of the waters ruled by the Pirate-Lords.
Seemed those waters must have expanded since their last map update—a week ago.
Mathias passed the spy-glass to Jaune.
Jaune didn't bother with it. "Well, if we're going to break through, the largest gap between ships is right over there."
"Seems a little too large," said Ripley.
"I agree. Probably a trap." Jaune dropped to his knees and unraveled his map, spreading it across the wood. Not like we'd be able to get away from them, even if we made it through that way. We'd make a little headway while they wasted time turning around but they're obviously lighter."
The other crew-members nodded along with him.
"I say we go...South." Jaune pointed to a section of the map.
Pallo gasped. "Towards the Devil's Triangle?"
Jaune nodded. "It's not ideal, I know. But if we manage to get through this blockade, and we manage to catch the Nor'Ester current we'll even out our speed differences—hell—they probably won't even follow us in."
"But once we're in the Nor'Ester..." Ripley trailed off.
"We're committed. That current puts us right in the middle of the Devil's Triangle."
Pallo muttered some words in his home-tongue. In common language he said, "The storms in the Triangle, they come and go without warning, vicious storms. Once every-ten-year storms on the rest of the ocean—coming and going on a whim."
"Who doesn't like the challenge of taming the ocean when it's at its angriest?" asked Oliver, unscrewing his flask.
"It's not just the ocean," reminded Ripley. "You can't forget about the monsters."
Pallo muttered a few more words that no one present could interpret. When he returned to common language he asked, "what will happen if we are taken by the pirates again?"
"My bet," said Oliver, lips still glued to his flask. "Kill the men. Sell the women and children as slaves. Keep the prettiest ones for themselves."
"So, it's sure death for us if we surrender, but our families might survive—sort of. And probable death for everyone if we manage to make it into the Nor'Ester and get carried into the Devil's Triangle." Ripley exhaled. "Times like this I'm extra glad that I'm not captain."
"I'm extra glad you're not captain every day," said Mathias.
The men chuckled.
Mathias stared into the distance, silent.
Finally, he spoke, "We'll take on the sea and the monsters with fins. It's what fair to our crew. And it's true, the pirates might spare the women and children, but I know my wife would rather take her chances with the sea than watch our daughters get passed around by pirate scum." Mathias smiled at each of his closest shipmates. "Boys, let's take on the devil."
The ship went into a flurry of action.
Jaune remained where he was, on the ground, pencil on map. He took note of the direction their flag was blowing, the direction of the, now, setting sun.
His heading had to be perfect here.
If he was off by even a bit…
He didn't want to think about it.
There was no point on dwelling on what wouldn't happen. He would figure out a route past the pirates and into the Devil's Triangle. And then he would figure out a route out.
Sure, they'd all need a vacation after this, but that was it.
They'd all be…
Jaune looked up from his map. The scene was different than the last time he'd glanced upwards. The ships location was different as well. They had broken out of the pirate blockade. Now they were near the Nor'Ester.
So close to freedom.
But The Merchant's Boon was burning. Jaune watched the sails above dissolve into glowing orange particles.
The roar of the fire was louder than the ocean. There was combat, all around him. Mathias was wielding Crocea Mors glowing in a golden light, using his semblance to slice boarders from a distance. Oliver wove in and out of assailants with his strange drunken fist.
The other crew members shouted and screamed as they defended all that they held precious.
Jaune spotted his father and captain, falling backwards, after a shot rang out. "Dad!" He screamed.
"Sniper!" shouted Oliver.
Then he too was hit. He dropped without warning, twice as fast as Mathias had.
Jaune's mind dragged as the destruction continued all around him. What could he do? Why was this feeling of hopelessness so familiar?
Was this what had happened to him so many years ago? Had pirates killed everyone he knew and loved? Was that why he detested them so much? Was that why he hated the very word?
A third ship arrived at The Merchant's Boon. It dropped a massive bridge contraption with a spiked bottom. The bridge shattered the merchant ship's deck as if it was paper. The man who proceeded down the ship was every bit as elegant and terrifying as Jaune had always imagined him to be.
His long silver hair flowed down the back of his neck. His right eye was covered with a bejeweled patch. He looked to be about Mathias's age—maybe a few years older. A crewman Jaune recognized ran at him, sword raised. The silver-haired pirate's sword was drawn, slashed through his opponent's stomach, and back in its sheath before Jaune could blink.
So, this was him.
The Silver Pirate-Lord. One of the four that ruled the sea.
Jaune had heard that, of the four, the Silver Pirate-Lord was among the top two for the most powerful semblance.
Jaune watched him weave effortlessly through the violence, occasionally cutting down a member of the merchant crew.
"Jaune!"
Jaune jumped when a pair of arms wrapped around his stomach. He kicked at the owner's shins until he realized who it was.
"Dad?"
Hadn't he seen him get gunned down?
Aura.
That's right. Semblance users had aura.
"Jaune, deep breath, hold your nose."
Jaune's eyes widened, as he realized what his father was doing.
Jaune managed to grab on to some netting as he dropped down the side of the ship, allowing him to narrowly avoid hitting the water.
What was his father thinking?
Jaune could fight! Not well. But he was still able-bodied!
He began to pull himself up the cargo net. Then he heard two voices.
"I assume you're the captain?" asked an unfamiliar voice.
"I assume the same of you," replied Mathias.
"If you would like to jump ship I am not opposed to allowing you."
"How could I sleep—even with the fishes—knowing I abandoned my ship and crew?"
The unfamiliar voice—who Jaune assumed was the Silver Pirate-Lord—laughed. "Indeed."
There was an exchange of sword blows. Jaune heard them ring out.
But they did not ring out for long. A white beam of pulsating energy erupted off the ship. The beam wasn't especially thick, but it extended into the horizon for, what looked like, miles. Jaune watched the beam vanish.
What was that?
Was that the Silver Pirate-Lord's semblance? Jaune heard a few stuttering steps. And then he saw his father. Staggering, back bent over the railing. The man toppled over, crashing into Jaune on his way down.
They fell into the water with one splash. Mathias atop him.
Jaune opened his eyes immediately. The surface was clearly lit thanks to the burning ship. He pushed his father upwards. Only to see surface through him.
Jaune froze, he watched his father gently float upwards, a gaping hole where his stomach used to be.
There was no blood. No entrails.
Just a clean perfect circle.
He opened his mouth—to scream—but water rush down his throat.
Jaune awoke with a gasp. He sat up, retching water from his lungs.
Only...there was no water.
Jaune looked around. He was in a cabin. He was in a bed. He was warm and dry. He was in... a green robe?
Jaune felt the material. It was soft, like silk—far fancier than anything he had ever worn—but not the nicest fabric he'd ever felt.
His mother was in textiles after all.
"It's mine."
Jaune jumped at the voice. A black-haired boy with a few pink strands approached his bedside. He was wearing a slight alteration of the green outfit on Jaune. Same colors, same basic shape but Jaune's just had more gold. The other boy's was more of a solid green outfit.
In the stranger's hands was a tray with two tea-cups and a kettle, as well as a larger cup. The boy set the tray down on the stand next to the bed. He picked up the large cup. "You'll want to sit up if your thirsty."
Only after hearing those words did Jaune realize just how thirsty he was. His throat was a desert. Only drier—since deserts still occasionally got rain.
Jaune pushed himself up and accepted the cup.
The water was cool and fresh.
It was every bit as good as the water he had tasted when he first woke up aboard The Merchant's Boon. What used to be a pleasant memory was now sour. That sourness spread to the water—not that the altered taste would stop him from greedily drinking.
"My name is Lie Ren," said the dark-haired boy.
"Jaune. Jaune Arc." Jaune extended a hand to his savior, just as he had been trained to do. "Nice to meet you Lie."
The boy accepted his hand, shaking lightly. "People call me Ren, not Lie."
"Ah. Sorry."
"No worries, Jaune." Ren accepted back Jaune's empty cup and poured tea into each of the tea cups. "I know you would probably prefer more cold water. But I've made this tea with some herbs that will help soothe the pain in your throat."
Jaune accepted the offered tea cup.
He watched Ren pick up his own.
"Do you have a sore throat too?"
Ren shook his head. "It has a pleasant flavor as well."
Jaune cautiously sipped at the tea. It wasn't too hot, and Ren hadn't misled him about the flavor. It was on the strong side—but soothing to the tongue.
Ren took a few sips from his cup as well. "So, Jaune, is it safe to assume you are the survivor of...a tragedy at sea?"
Jaune nodded. "I was on a merchant ship. We were attacked..." Jaune continued, unsure if it was necessary to tack on the obvious. "...by pirates."
There was the sound of a large crash outside of the room. Jaune looked towards the closed door. It rattled once and then, suddenly it burst open.
"Did you say pirates!?" A young girl virtually appeared out of nowhere, at his bedside, opposite Ren. "Who? Where? When?" The girl leaned closer and closer to him with each question. Her silver eyes were like twin full moons.
"Ruby, I told you to let me talk to him. Your exuberance can be very...disconcerting for people who are just waking up."
"I just thought you might need help Ren!"
"No, you were eavesdropping at the door because you were curious."
"Actually, I was coming to tell you that Nora found where you've been hiding the syrup."
Jaune spotted a small and solitary spark of emotion fly across Ren's face.
"Excuse me Jaune." The boy took off, not quite sprinting, but certainly moving faster than he had been a few moments earlier while carrying the tea.
"So, your name's Jaune, right?" asked the ball of energy Ren left behind.
Jaune nodded. "That's right."
Ruby stuck out her hand. "I'm Ruby Rose, Captain of The Ambling Rose."
Jaune accepted her hand. "Nice to meet you Rub—wait did you say captain!?"
Ruby rolled her eyes at his dropped jaw. "Nice, I never get that reaction. Look, I've even got a hat and everything." Ruby felt around her bare head. "Huh, that's weird. Where'd it go?" She cast her eyes about the room. "Ah!"
Jaune lost track of her for a moment, when she ducked down, then she reappeared at his side with a giant, flamboyant black hat. She had to rest it at an awkward angle to keep it from covering her eyes.
She looked so absurd in her oversized hat, Jaune couldn't help but grin.
"Nice hat."
"Thanks!" she cheered.
"Why does it have a skull and crossbones on it?"
"Because I'm a pirate!"
Jaune froze. A series of horrible images flitted through his mind. But he managed to maintain his smile. He laughed awkwardly. "You're a pirate...?"
"Well, yeah. I am the captain of a pirate ship."
"And Ren...?"
"Also, a pirate! He's the ship doctor!"
"Ruby, we need to figure out where...Oh, you're up." Jaune glanced at the doorway. A white-haired girl peered at him curiously. She had blue eyes—super blue eyes. Just like him. Just like most of the Arcs. And she had a scar over one eye. It wasn't the same as Ellie's...
But it certainly reminded him of her.
Ruby disappeared from his bedside, leaving a shower of red petals behind. Suddenly she was next to the white-haired girl. "This is Weiss! She's my first-mate. She wasn't always my first-mate though. Originally Yang was but I couldn't get her to do anything. Weiss though, Weiss practically wants my job!"
"That's because I'd make a better captain than you."
"Hear that!?" Ruby's grin widened. "That's the sound of a great first-mate."
Was it?
"O-okay. But...back to the pirate thing."
Ruby nodded. "Right, right. Yep. We're pirates."
Apparently, that was all Ruby felt needed to be said on the matter.
"Ruby, you're needed on deck," said Weiss, almost sounding exasperated.
"Gotcha." Ruby vanished.
Weiss stared at Jaune critically for a few seconds. Jaune was accustomed to similar stares from his sisters, but hers felt as intense, if not more so, as an angry Ellie. Jaune just barely managed not to shrink back.
"Ruby's not crazy—or, at least, she's not wrong. We are pirates."
Jaune's eyes widened.
"But you don't have to worry about it. We aren't...that kind of pirate."
Jaune had no idea what that meant.
"Why don't you come up with us on deck?"
"I think, I'd rather stay here..." said Jaune. "...If that's okay?" he hurriedly tacked on.
"No, you should come, some exercise will do you good after all that time floating and starving."
Would it really though?
"Plus, I don't want you stealing anything."
Ah.
Well.
Who could argue with that?
Jaune stood on wobbly legs. It took him a moment to relearn how to walk but he soon remembered his old skill.
Weiss led him directly onto the deck. It was a decent sized ship. Nowhere near as impressive as the The Merchant's Boon but still—maybe a thirty-man crew?
It was night time. The sky was already black. The ship was illuminated by several swinging lanterns.
Ruby was staring down at a parchment spread out along the deck next to a much taller, redhead. Ruby was talking a-mile-a-minute. The redhead nodded along patiently.
Ruby broke out of her conversation with, seemingly, no warning when she spotted Jaune and Weiss. "Jaune! You're up. I'll assemble the whole crew, so you can meet them!"
Jaune wasn't sure if he was allowed to say that wasn't necessary. Even if he had been confident enough—he probably wouldn't have gotten it out before Ruby vanished.
Before long, Ruby had a row of four people standing before him. "Weiss, Yang, Blake, and Pyrrha." Ruby counted them off in rapid succession. "There's also Nora and Ren but...they're having...some technical difficulties with the syrup."
"Where're the rest of you?" asked Jaune.
"Do you really need more?" asked the yellow one—Yang—probably. She fluttered her eyelashes playfully.
Jaune ignored that, now solely concerned about this seriously undermanned ship. If Ruby was to be believed this ship was manned by seven people his age?
"This is at least a thirty-man ship!"
"Is it?" asked Ruby.
"I could have sworn they said it was a thirty-five…" began Yang with mock consternation.
"I said 'at least!'" exclaimed Jaune.
"Jaune," began the beautiful redhead. "We make up for our lack of numbers with—"
"Power," cut in Yang as she pointed at and flexed her triceps.
"What does that even—"
Jaune was interrupted by a roar.
Not like the 'roar' of a hungry stomach.
Not like the 'roar' of a crowd.
It was a sudden, violent, ear-splitting roar.
And it was mixed with a deafeningly high screech—just to make the ears bleed a little longer. Jaune crouched low. He'd never heard something like that before. It had sounded primal, fierce, and hungry.
And it had sounded close.
"Dammit Ruby!" said Yang. "That's another one! Where the hell are we?"
"Another what?" asked Jaune.
Ruby ignored him in favor of responding to the blonde. "How should I know!?"
"You're the captain."
Ruby suddenly studied her feet. "Yeah, I know. It's just…it got dark. And then we were moving so fast. And we lost our anchor. And then we slowed down. And then Blake saw Jaune…I just have no idea where we are now."
Yang wrapped her arm around Ruby. "Aw. It could happen to anyone little sis. Come here."
"Guys," Jaune tried again. "What was that noise earlier?"
"Don't worry." The black-haired girl, Blake, spoke for the first time. "It's still a few seconds out." She rolled her eyes. "They all have the exact same attack pattern."
Oh, well, if that wasn't comforting, what the hell was?
Suddenly the water broke on the starboard side. A massive serpent emerged. Slowly, it rose to its full height, stretching well over twenty feet—and that was just above the water.
Jaune could imagine how much more of it was under the water.
What Jaune could see of it, he saw only by dim moonlight. But he saw enough to know…
They were in the middle of the Devil's Triangle.
And…
He was about to die.
The monster screamed again. Jaune covered his ears.
A second later the door to the living quarters flew open. Out popped an orange haired girl, covered in brown liquid, carrying a massive hammer. Following her was Ren—also covered in brown liquid.
"You guys said I could have this one!" screamed the girl.
"No one is trying to take it from you Nora," said Pyrrha.
"Thanks P-diddy. You're the only one on my side."
Jaune wasn't sure what was happening. Were they all suffering from some sort of "inevitable death insanity" or something?
Nora pointed massive metal hammer at the sea-serpent. She screamed, "boom!"
Lightning hurtled from the heavens in a twisting bolt.
Either the strike lasted far longer than a natural bolt or it was several bolts combined… Because the light show went on for about ten seconds.
When it ended. The giant reptile dropped into the water.
Dead? Unconscious? Terrified?
"Overkill much Nora?" said Yang.
"She's had a lot of sugar," said Ren.
Everyone else nodded.
Everyone except for Jaune.
He wasn't quite sure how "having a lot of sugar" translated to "having the ability to summon lightning"
But, maybe that was just him.
The ship lurched forward as a sudden burst of wind hit their sails.
"Hey, we're moving again!" said Ruby. "Now we don't have to waste time trying to figure out where we are."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Jaune, already dreading her answer.
"Well, if we're moving we'll eventually find an island. We can just ask the locals to point to us on a map. And, bam! We're back in business."
Jaune was waiting for her to burst into laughter, to reveal that it was all a joke. She wasn't though. And that was worrisome. "Do you have a map?" asked Jaune.
"Yep. It's right over…" Ruby looked around. "That's weird. I left it on the deck over there."
Jaune glanced up at the full, billowing sales above. Blake and Ren both followed his line of sight.
"Did someone pick it up?" asked Ruby.
"I think it may have blown away, captain," said Blake.
"I lost another one!?" cried Ruby.
Jaune wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. What did these guys think the ocean was? A playground?
"We're in the Devil's Triangle," said Jaune.
"Excuse me?" said Weiss, in a tone that said she demanded proof.
"You said you guys were going really fast earlier? That's because you were in the Nor'Ester. Takes you right into the Devil's Triangle. Then you slowed down. The middle of the Triangle's a calm point—as far as currents go. But there are tons of monsters. Eventually, you drift out of the middle and you get back into the stormy parts of the Triangle. Which is where we are now." Jaune stared up at the sky. The visibility was good. He could make out the necessary stars. "The fastest way out of this hell-hole is North-West which is…" he hummed for a moment and then pointed. "…That way."
Jaune looked back down to receive several gaping expressions.
"Who needs a map!?" roared Nora. "This guy is the map! Who are you map-guy? And how did you get on my ship? Are you a boarder? Shall we break your legs?"
Jaune decided to answer the only question in that series that didn't leave him terrified. "You still need a map."
It was at that moment that Jaune's stomach reminded him of his seasickness affliction.
That feeling, combined with his nausea, his over-all sense of being overwhelmed, and a touch of sleepiness, caused him to faint. His world went dark and his body collapsed.
*l*l*
Jaune awoke in the same bed he had awoken in not so long ago. This time, the room was empty. Devoid of all life.
Perhaps Weiss wasn't so worried about him stealing from them anymore.
Which, come to think of it, was a fine piece of hypocrisy for a pirate!
The ships rocking, and rolling was several times worse now. And Jaune wanted to throw up. He wanted to throw up.
A ton.
But he hadn't eaten in three days. So, it was a bit of a moot feeling.
Jaune rolled out of bed.
He didn't know what he had hoped to accomplish by going on deck, barefoot, right before a violent storm was about to start. But he did it anyway. And he was urged on by the excited cheers he was hearing from Nora and Ruby.
Jaune arrived topside to a…
Well, a sight.
The wind was whipping around them wicked strong. It had to be going at least fifty miles-per-hour.
Ruby and Nora were cheering at the side of the ship because of their speed, or so Jaune assumed. Blake was curled up in a hammock. Yang and Pyrrha were playing dice by the light of a lantern. Weiss was at the ship's helm. And Ren was…meditating...maybe?
"What are you all doing!?" Jaune screamed.
Every eye on the ship turned toward him. Even Blake peeked one eye open.
"A storm is coming!" Thunder added a real-life exclamation mark to that sentence. But it didn't seem to mean much to the people he was addressing. "This the Devil's Triangle do you know how bad storms get around here?" Not a single nod.
Okay. So, no one in the crew knew much about basic geography. That was…well…it just was.
But here was a question they wouldn't have any defense for.
"Why are the sails still out!?"
Ruby's answer broke Jaune's brain.
"Why wouldn't they be?"
Jaune looked around the ship. From Ruby to Weiss to Nora to Ren to Yang to Pyrrha to Blake. Their faces all echoed the same sentiment. Why wouldn't they be?
"Show of hands!" screamed Jaune. "Aside from manning the wheel…how many of you know anything about sailing a boat?"
"Did he say butt?"
"He said boat Nora," corrected Ren.
"Oh, not me then!"
Jaune looked around the rest of the crew.
Not a single hand to be seen…
And that was when the wind picked up.
Shortly after that—as in two to three seconds later—the mast broke.
So yeah…that's one third of what I have for the first chapter technically. AND I'M STILL NOT DONE. HAHA. Ha…That's why it consumed more time than expected.
Don't forget to check out my other fics. Follow. Fave. Review. Reviews help me know what fics I should focus on. So definitely, review.
Kay. G'night.
