A/N:Just a short thing inspired by an artwork by xeroartsu om tumblr.
As much as he hated to think about it, Jaune Arc was a simple man.
He lived on a small farm a ways from a slightly-larger fishing village, both small enough that even the Grimm had no interest in visiting, even if it would break the monotony.
He was the youngest of eight siblings, and the only male, born to parents who were both retired Huntsmen.
Every morning, he was up at the crack of dawn to feed the animals, clean the pens, and milk the cows.
Every day was spent working to fix whatever problems his father had found with the farm this time.
Every evening… he spent in the woods, practicing with Crocea Mors, burying the family sword into tree after tree, cursing whatever genetic anomaly had given the only son of two huntsmen such pitiful skills.
He'd seen his father turn trees into splinters with a well-placed shield bash instead of chopping them down.
He'd tried and failed to watch his mother dart around the kitchen, as she simply moved too fast for his eyes to track.
Even his sisters seemed to have inherited no small amount of skill, judging by the casual ease they handled the practice weapons, whenever he managed to convince any of them to spar.
In his mind, there was nothing more embarrassing than getting routinely beaten by people with bare-minimum self defense training and no interest in honing their skills, especially when you spent every night practicing in hopes of becoming a hunter.
Well, to be entirely honest… his dream had less to do with becoming a hunter, and more to do with becoming someone.
He didn't want to be Jaune, the man, the farmer, the son of Joan and Johann.
He wanted to be Jaune Arc, the legend, one of the famously-strong people that were whispered about in bars all over the world.
He wanted to be someone.
And during one of his late-night training sessions, just a bit past midnight, he got the chance he'd been waiting for.
/
He'd been training far longer than usual, trying and failing to perfect a technique his father had mentioned in passing that day.
He was supposed to jump to the side, roll on his shoulder, and come up behind the enemy in a whirling slash.
All he'd managed to do was bruise his shoulder, cover himself in mud, and, most depressingly, get his sword stuck in a tree to the point where he couldn't even pull it out.
He tugged fruitlessly on it for a moment before sinking to his knees, sighing.
He honestly wasn't sure why he kept trying.
This was just the latest in a long line of failures.
And he wanted to quit, to just be satisfied with the life he seemed destined to lead… but he couldn't.
He couldn't just allow himself to live and die as some nobody, the first male Arc in almost two centuries to be such a hopeless fighter, to be someone of no importance…
It was there, tears rolling down his face, slamming his hands fruitlessly against the tree, that he knew he'd give up anything to become Someone.
And it was there that she appeared, drawn in by his emotions like a moth to a flame… or a lioness to a wounded gazelle.
/
"Jaune Arc, I presume?"
He whirled around to face the unfamiliar voice, his breath catching.
She was beautiful.
Gorgeous red hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, a lithe form, and eyes shining with a sort of mischievous pride.
But that wasn't the reason his breath caught, or at least not the only reason.
She radiated power, it came off her in waves, washing over him and alerting him to the fact that he was in the presence of someone who was truly powerful…
SIn short, someone who was Someone.
"Who… who are you?" He managed, after a moment, and the powerful girl smiled.
"Do you desire power? The strength to carve your own path through life?" She tilted her head slightly. "I can give it to you, if you're willing to pay."
He nodded, clambering to his feet. "Of course! I'll give you whatever it takes, I swear!"
Her smile darkened. "Whatever it takes…. Anything I want?"
At his eager nod, she stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest and letting her power flare. Rivulets of a blood red energy began to swirl around her in lazy circles, and she started slowly shifting into her true form.
Her eyes were the first thing to change, her irises becoming red, while her pupils turned green. The whites of her eyes slowly darkened into a dusky gray.
"All I want… is a bit of your Aura. Just the agreement that I can have some, really. Is that acceptable?"
Jaune nodded, clearly too stunned to speak, and she grinned.
/
Her hand on his chest grew hot, even through his chestplate, and he tried to close his eyes against the pain.
But they opened of their own accord, and he watched, screaming in a mixture of pain and horror, as gashes appeared all over the woman's body and armor.
The raw wounds were bloodless, but the ugly tears in her skin revealed pulsing muscle tissue.
His screams only increased in volume when dozens of eyes appeared in the wounds, blinking up at him.
The pain subsided for a moment, and her voice spoke in his mind, ringing behind his eyes.
'Hm, more aura than I'd thought… But, you did say anything…'
Pain shot through his body as winding cords of pure light burst through his skin. The light shifted color, their now cobalt shade signifying the arrival of a hotter, more intense pain.
The flesh of his left arm bubbled, and liquid bone seemed to flow forth from it, forming into a skull covering his pauldron.
Wounds of his own opened all over his body, the wide gashes full of blood that was absorbed into the energy flowing around him.
All at once, the pain stopped and he dropped to his knees, sobbing and struggling to catch his breath.
The woman took a few steps away, pausing to look back at him, a particularly dark grin coloring her features.
"I think this will be a wonderful partnership, Jaune Arc. Gather your weapons;we have work to do."