A/N:

Hi Friends!

Welcome (or welcome back) to the AU "RWBY: The Selection."

Tonight's chapter is about the fantastic Jaune Arc ("short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it" "do they?"). Since we don't know the names of any of Jaune's sisters aside from Saphron, I dug around for any yellow-themed female names I could find.

Just a head's up, there is a small smattering of language. The story is rated T, but I thought I'd warn y'all anyway. Once again, please leave any comments/questions/concerns/suggestions, and more!

Enjoy! :D

Chapter 8: Jaune

It was 10:15 in the morning, and Jaune Arc had overslept once again. He rolled over on his pillow and checked his scroll to find that it was dead. He had forgotten to charge it after spending hours reading an advice column on how to unlock your semblance. After spending another whole night researching, all he had to show for it was a dead scroll, a drool-flecked pillow, and a bad case of messy, morning hair.

It was a knock on his door that had woken him up, and another one that forced him out of bed, throwing on a hoodie and coming to the door.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice cracking after a long night of not being used. He looked left and right, but didn't see anyone. He looked down. "Oh, hey Oscar,"

Oscar Pine had been a servant in the palace for the past several years. He was a Seven, and had grown up as a farmhand in Mistral before moving to the palace a few years ago for reasons that neither Jaune nor Oscar had ever quite been able to discern. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was destiny. Maybe it was the little voice in the back of Oscar's head that he often pretended wasn't there. Whatever the reason, Jaune was happy to have him. Oscar was the closest thing he had to a friend.

Oscar took a step back. "Prince Jaune, you're… did you just get up?"

"Yeah," Jaune shrugged sheepishly. "I forgot to plug in my scroll."

"Oh… don't worry, I've done that three times this week," Oscar said sheepishly.

"Right? It's so easy to forget to charge it when you're up late, binge-watching videos on how to unlock your semblance,"

"Any luck?" asked Oscar hopefully. Jaune shook his head, and Oscar looked put-out. "Well, I'm sure you'll discover it soon. If it makes you feel any better, I'm in the same boat."

"I know, Oz,"

The two shared a moment of camaraderie in their inadequacy, and then Oscar inhaled.

"Oh, by the way, the Queen is looking for you,"

Jaune blinked, bewildered. He wasn't particularly close to his mom. They had drifted apart after his father's death three years ago, and she rarely went looking for him unless he did something wrong.

"She said you have a meeting about the Selection?"

Jaune shook his head. "I thought that started at ten,"

"It's…" Oscar looked confused. "It's ten-fifteen."

"Shit!" Jaune cried. He raced back into his room to throw on some clothes: the dark blue robes that had once been worn by his father and the white armor that had been worn by his grandfather. He shoved his sword under his bed in case someone came to clean while he was out, and raced out to follow Oscar to the royal family's family quarters.

"The applications closed last night, and over a hundred girls have applied," Oscar informed, checking his scroll.

"Over a hundred?" Jaune sighed. "How am I supposed to narrow that down?"

"Well, the Queen has some ideas, and so do your sisters…"

Jaune shook his head. "Why does the kingdom even pretend that this choice is mine? My mother's going to decide this just like she's decided everything else."

"Jaune,"

Jaune glanced at Oscar before opening the throne room door.

"This decision will stick with you for the rest of your life. You… you deserve to have a say in it."

Jaune gave a small smile. Oscar was like the brother he'd never had, and his words, even if they weren't true, were a comfort to him. "Thanks, Oz,"

He sighed deeply and pushed open the door to the family room.

Immediately, he was head-butted by Daffy and Daisy, two of his seven sisters. "Can we do your hair for the first night of the selection?" Daffy asked.

"I don't-"

"PLEASE?" they chorused.

Jaune gave in, smiling. "Okay,"

"Jaune."

He looked up to see his mother, sitting at a desk and staring into her crystal ball while his blonde-haired sisters ran around the room, reading or screaming or practicing magic. Salem's piercing blue eyes stared into his, and she stood up, walking to the couch. "Sit," she gestured beside her, and he sat.

His older sister, Saphron, plopped next to him. "Why are you so late?"

"I was up late on my phone," he admitted.

Saphron smirked. "Doing what?"

"I- doing research, okay?"

She ruffled his hair as he blushed and Salem shook her head, smiling. "Girls," she called, eyeing Daffy and Daisy, who had been braiding Jaune's tomboy twin, Primrose's hair against her will. "Everyone, take a seat. Xanthe, put the book down,"

Xanthe, another one of Jaune's sisters sighed and closed her book as the youngest, Marigold, jumped on the couch next to her.

"Now then," Salem started, "girls," Jaune grimaced. "Dr. Watts condensed and collected information on each of the applicants to prepare in a slideshow," she gestured to the screen in front of them. "I'm sure you all have your own opinions, but this is Jaune's decision." She gave her son another piercing look. "All I ask is that you follow the rules set by the kingdom's founders and select two girls from each caste." He nodded. "And that you really think about who would be good for the kingdom."

That was the way his mother had put it. Good for the kingdom. Not good for him, not good for their family, good for their kingdom. He knew the traits his mother considered to be good for the kingdom: someone who was poised, someone who diplomatic, someone who was, preferably, higher-caste, someone who would be a good princess. Not a good wife. A good princess. Jaune bit his lip. "Okay,"

For three hours, he watched a slideshow of the hundreds of girls who had applied for the Selection. His sisters argued for one or for another based on her hairstyle or the color of her dress. His mother took note of everyone, and, every once and a while offered a "you should seriously consider that one, Jaune," or an "I'm not even sure why that girl applied. Take her off the list."

There were a few girls that caught his eye by their pictures, names, or accomplishments alone. One girl with short dark hair and silver eyes looked so full of hope that he immediately made a mental note to look further into the file of Ruby Rose. One Yang Xiao Long had listed 'kicking ass' as one of her skills, and Jaune couldn't help but laugh. She would be good to have around the palace. He was shocked to see Weiss Schnee among the applicants: the heiress to the Schnee Dust Company had little to gain from entering this competition. When the slide changed to a Six named Emerald Sustrai, his mother turned to him. "Look at that resume. She would make a good queen, don't you think? Put her on the list." And Jaune pretended to scribble her name in a notebook that was largely filled with doodles of him fighting Grimm.

After the slideshow, Jaune went to his room to further deliberate. His mother had given him a few of her "recommendations", which he understood to mean "orders", and his sisters demanded he let in their favorites, a bright-haired Four named Neon Katt, and a stylish Two named Coco Adel. The rest were up to him. Dr. Watts had delivered all the files to his desk, and he flipped through pages and pages of accomplishments, photographs, backgrounds, and essays. It had been Jaune's decision to include an essay, something that hadn't been necessary in prior Selections.

The prompt was: 'Why do you think you'd be a good match for Prince Jaune?', and he'd included it because the thought of dating fourteen strangers intimidated him more than he was willing to admit.

Some girls wrote about how attractive he was, how cute he was, or how they were already in love with him after seeing him on screen. Jaune was hesitant of those, because how could someone who had never met him claim to be in love with him? Some girls wrote about how they would make excellent princesses and the assets they had to offer the kingdom. Jaune tossed those in the trash. His mother had already given him five that she considered to be princess material. He would choose the rest based on whether they were 'true love' material.

One girl wrote about how they would share a passion for justice. One wrote about how, since he used a sword, and she used a scythe, they would be compatible on the battlefield. One girl seemed to have misunderstood the prompt entirely and submitted a four-page love poem to pancakes. Jaune grinned and added her to the list. He liked pancakes, perhaps not as much as this girl did, but they were still yummy. Late at night, with one spot on his list, he forced himself to read one more essay, this one from the file of an eighteen-year-old Three named Pyrrha Nikos.

Why do you think you'd be a good match for Prince Jaune?

I have to admit, I don't know much about the Prince. But if I am chosen, I look forward to meeting him.

Jaune blinked. It was by far the shortest essay he had read, but it was honest, bluntly so, and didn't make any false claims of love. "Well, Pyrrha Nikos," he said to himself as he added her to the list, "I look forward to meeting you too."