So I only just started reading RWBY fanfiction and I have to say that there's a lot of awesome talent out there. But with my continued search within the halls of fanfiction, I realized that there was only a closet's worth of multi-chaptered Lancaster I could read! (If you guys know of any, let me know which one's are worth reading, yeah?)
And now here's me trying to fulfil my own needs by writing my own. A sad state of affairs, I know.
One Last Hunt
Deep in the pitch black of night, he stood with nought but the blue light of his scroll illuminating his weary, unshaven face. The muted hues cast deep lines of shadow across his countenance, a multitude of wrinkles that spoke of experience, age... as well as pain.
His dull eyes flickered, following the images that danced within the window he held in his hands; a window to a past long gone but not forgotten; memories of better days.
As always, her voice was like the sun.
Come on, Jaune!
Ruby, we're still on a mission; we can't just-
—but I found something cool I wanted to show you! See, it's right around the corner, behind this tree aaand... Viola!
The man chuckled, and it was a tired old thing. Oh, how he missed her...
Viola what? What am I looking a-
[—Clack clack clack...]
The noise did not startle him; only drew a tired sigh from his dried and leathery lips.
With practised ease, the man flipped the scroll shut and put it in the breast pocket of his trenchcoat, and with a grace that could have only been born from years of mastery, he drew his faithful weapon.
Slow. Steady. Confident. He was in no rush.
The solitary note of his blade as he pulled it from its scabbard feathered over the ruins, an ode to a promise he planned on keeping that very eve. It sang, 'One last... One last hunt.'
"As I live and breath," the honeyed alto of her voice mocked him, "Jaune Wolves' Bane d'Arc, the last hunter—or last living person in all of Remnant, more like. To what do I owe the immense pleasure of this most unexpected visit? Oh, and could I just say: you don't look a day over... eighty? Why you look absolutely awful, Jaune," the sweetness of her tone betrayed the words she spoke.
Jaune did not deem that worthy of a reply so, instead, he gauntleted Akoúo̱ and took on a Myrmidon stance. Knees bent, shield held at the vanguard, sword-arm to his cheek as the blade rested on the crest of his bulwark, old bones settled into the familiar form.
The woman made a sound of disappointment that could have only been described as theatre, "Aw, straight to business, Arc? But don't you want to catch up with some old... friends?"
Lightning flashed and in its flickering revealed what once was the empty skeleton of his old alma mater now home to living bone and creeping shadow. Grimm. Thousands upon thousands of Grimm. He was surrounded.
And yet, even with the display, the old man didn't even flinch; did not falter; his eyes never straying from the woman who stood there before him. He knew they wouldn't attack. They didn't have to. The end of all this was already a foregone conclusion. They knew it, and most importantly... he knew it as well. They were there to enjoy the show, nothing more.
Like any last act worth its salt, it began to rain. How felicitous.
The ever-present smile on the woman's face finally slipped into a scowl. "You know you can't beat me, Jaune."
No answer; no sound for the longest time except for the noisy hush that could only have come from rain.
"Tired?" The woman then asked, breaking the rhythmic silence.
To wit, at last, he acquiesced, "Very."
"...Let us end this then."
The old man could only raise his shield higher in reply, sharp eyes peeking over the top of it.
Seconds ticked past, and in the time it took for one to pull in a breath, the woman made the first move, opening up with a torrent of flame that lit up the night with its harsh orange glow.
If this were to be a fairytale, what followed then could have easily been scribed as a battle worthy of the pages, but it was not. What it was was nothing more than a ritual slaughter that only had one way of ending.
With a shove that heralded flames, the old man was sent flying into one of the pillars that was miraculously still standing after all these years. He heard a crack more than felt it as his body slid down the dilapidated stone monolith and onto the cold floor. He realised with as much surprise as realising that he had slept in on a Saturday that he could not feel anything from the waist down. Broken spine most like. The old man could only chuff.
"Any last words, Jaune?" The question more a formality.
"None."
"Then I'll-"
"—But if you could give me a moment."
The woman looked like she was considering it before finally relenting. What were a few more seconds? She had already won. "Very well."
The old man, with some difficulty, reached back into his coat pocket. The woman didn't even stir as he did so even when it was quite possible he'd pull another weapon on her like the ones he'd used throughout the fight.
But he was old. He was tired. He was beaten. They both knew it wasn't worth the effort.
He flipped the scroll open once more and pressed play on the video he had watched countless of times one last time.
The old man smiled.
—at?
You can't see it?
See what, Rubes? There's nothing there.
Exactly! There's nothing! It's perfect!
Perfect for what?
A house Jaune. Our house.
He paused the video where the woman was smiling just to feel its warmth just a little while longer.
Whether it be tears or the rain that streamed down his face, it did not matter. After longingly caressing the silhouette of the woman inside the screen, "I'm done," he whispered and then tucked the device away. He gathered his sword and shield onto his lap and waited for the end. His eyes closed.
"It's been a pleasure, Jaune." She raised her hand to strike him down-
"Hold, Cinder."
"Mistress?"
"I'll do it. After all, a huntsman of his calibre deserves nothing less, no?"
The new voice spoke, but Jaune did not bother to see who it was. He was just so tired. It would mean little to him anyway to know who would bring him his demise.
"Rest, brave knight," their breath caressed his ear, "Rest in the knowledge that you've tried everything... and it was never enough to save... any of them."
The skin in the corners of his eyes creased as he clenched his eyes shut against the pain her mocking tone had dredged.
She was right. If only he'd been stronger, faster, smarter, more resilient; if only he'd had the power to prevent all this... if only he could do it all over again, he promised to be better.
An empty promise of a dying man; mere words that had not the chance to be anything more. At least now he could rest...
"I'm coming home, Cookie," he whispered as a blade of cold black pierced his heart.
~ • ~
Jaune Arc bolted upright as he woke with a start in his bed at Beacon Academy. No fires, no rain, no Grimm, no Cinder Fall. Was it all a dream or was this the dream? Without thinking, he raised a hand up to his cheek and felt hot tears there.
If this were a dream then why did it not fade? He could still remember his life as Wolves' Bane d'Arc, vivid and unrelenting, more a memory than a dream. In fact, it was all he could remember at the moment.
As his hand fell away from his face, he noticed it, Ember Celica on his right arm.
"What?"
He took stock of his person and noticed other things: his garb right before he had died, one of Ren's Stormflowers and Gambol Shroud holstered to his hips. Akoúo̱ rested at his feet collapsed around Crocea Mors. And as he reached behind his back... his breath caught as he beheld Ruby's Crescent Rose with just a touch...
This wasn't a dream.
His now supple hands began to shake. It was all he could do not to scream. Not a moment later, Jaune leapt from the bed in the room he shared with his old team, earning a grunt from Ren at the noise he made. He paid him no heed and instead headed straight for the door.
~ • ~
[Bang bang bang bang!]
"Who-wha- I'm up! I'm up! Is it time for breakfast? Can I have cookies?" Ruby's sleepy babble drivelled out of her mouth as she drivelled out of bed painfully onto the floor, a rude awakening.
"Ugh! Who in their right mind would be awake at," Weiss paused to look at the clock in her scroll, "3 am in the morning?!"
"I'm this close to killing the guy out there, so someone else better answer the door!" Her sister promised.
Ruby was already at the entrance to their room by the time her sister finished with her threat. She opened the door and was greeted by a silhouette of an old man- no wait, what? Old man? No, he wasn't old; why did she even think that? 'Trick of the light?' It was just Jaune. She had no idea how she could have mistaken him. 'Huh, must be sleepier than I thought.'
"Jaune? What's wro- ack!"
To Ruby's sleep-addled brain, it didn't really register to her what just happened. She was just standing earlier, but now it seemed she was in her best friend's arms securely ensconced in his embrace. She gave two blinks in surprise.
Being this close to him, The first thing she noticed when the suprise faded was his clothes, damp as if he took a shower in them. It made her shiver, no, it was him who was shivering. That was when she noticed the second thing. Jaune was crying; not the over the top bawling she had known her friend for, but a silent sob that left his frame heavy as he collapsed to his knees.
Somehow that made her worry even more.
She didn't know what was going on but the desperate way in which he clung to her as if she would disappear at any moment left Ruby reeling.
"Jaune? Jaune, what's wrong?"
~ • ~
Her younger voice overlapped with the one in his memory of a woman who would ask him that very same question whenever he'd come home to her injured. Its familiarity robbed him of his strength and rooted him in place. He was no longer embracing her, instead clutching her to him, his head pressed against her stomach as his entire frame shook with silent and desperate relief.
"Jaune?"
Unsure yet tentative fingers wrapped around his head pressing him closer.
"What the heck is going on out here?!"
"What is- Jaune? What happened? Are you alright?"
"It's way too early for this."
"Oh my gosh! A confession?!"
"Nora, keep your voice down; it's the middle of the night."
"Jaune?" Her voice came again, softer this time if it were even possible. He knew he had missed it, but only hearing it again made him realize just how much. It was enough to make him look up. And there he saw her, Ruby Rose, his best friend, partner, wife...
There were no words to describe what he was feeling in that one moment. No words, but he tried his best to understand anyway.
Imagine being lost at sea; no sun, moon, or stars for light or warmth. You've been there for years so the cold that seeped into your bones was no longer a bother, instead, it was a constant that you have come to accept; to live with. You are lost, and you will remain lost until your exhausted body stopped keeping you afloat as wave after wave beat against you.
But then, without even hoping for it, a light covers you. So warm it is, so comforting, so familiar; a light that you have only known for a moment—for that is what life was, a moment—is returned to you in the twinkling of an eye. Suddenly the cold becomes so unbearable that it would rend soul from spirit.
Would you not cling to her?
That was where Jaune was right then and there. He could not be blamed for what he did next.
The fist connecting to his cheek begged to disagree.
~ • ~
'WH-WH-WHAAAAaaaAAaat?!'
Ruby's eye grew two sizes bigger at the suddenness of it, but then rolled to the back of her head and fluttered closed when the pleasant sensation enveloped her like a comfy blanket, only for them to fly wide open again when she remembered that this was not normal best friend behaviour!
Jaune was- he was- he was KISSING her! WHAT?!
"WOAH! Back off, buddy!"
A solid punch from her sister and her lips separated from his with a wet and incriminating pop. Jaune sat with his butt to the floor cradling his cheek but did not look any worse for wear. In fact, he looked like he didn't even notice Yang verbally tearing him a new one. He just kept staring at her with eyes filled with- what, relief?
Disbelief? Anyway, what did she know? She was only fifteen. Who could even tell what eyes were (probably a doctor) and the emotions that swam within them (probably a psychiatrist)? Not her, that's for sure!
Yet his eyes unnerved her still that she hid behind her furious sibling if only to shield herself from the... intimacy—yeah, that was the word—of his gaze.
Who was this guy, and what had he done to her best friend? If only she could tell just by looking at him from over Yang's shoulder.
~ • ~
He could tell just by looking over Yang's shoulder that Ruby was shocked, confused, and scared. Years looking at that face, Jaune recognized all the emotions that swam beneath the silver of her eyes.
If he still doubted that this was a dream, then that punch sure woke him up. Only then did the full weight of the realization of where he was—or better said, when he was—bared down on him.
He was really back, back to when he was only a student at Beacon and not the sole surviving hunter in all of Remnant. The memory of his school days was so far off that he could not even remember how he should conduct himself around his old friends.
Friends. The very word shook him and threatened to drown him in yet another deluge of emotions. It was only his years as a seasoned veteran that gave him calm and control. He stood back up and, as he did, took the time to look each and every one of them; their faces varying degrees of aghast, disgust, flabbergast, and, in Nora's case, unbridled glee.
All shocked, but most importantly, alive.
"I told you it was a confession! You go, Jaune! Not the way I would have done it, but hey, points for guts, spunk, and moxie! You go boi!" The aforementioned ginger girl exclaimed.
"Like hell it is! You got some 'splainin' to do, Arc, and it better be good. Because if you weren't Ruby's friend, then a shiner's not the only thing you're getting!
At the mention of her name, Jaune's eyes flickered to where Ruby was hiding behind her sister's golden tresses. His wife let out a "meep!" before hiding even deeper in Yang's hair. But no, he realised, she wasn't his wife, was she? At least not in this timeline.
The thought grounded him more than he wanted it too.
No, right now she was just Ruby Rose, huntress in training and leader of team RWBY. For all she cared, becoming a huntress was the only thing that mattered to her right now. They weren't even remotely together yet. It dawned on him then what his actions—that were familiar only to him—might have meant for Ruby and the others that stood around them.
He needed a moment to gather himself unless he wanted to make another mistake. It was with swift strides that he escaped them all down the corridor.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going?! I'm not done with you!"
"J-Jaune? Jaune, wait!"
It took everything he had not to turn back when she called out for him. His head in turmoil and heart even more so, he knew that that was the last thing Ruby needed however. So he fled. He was thankful for his team keeping Yang from chasing his ass down.
He needed time to think.
~ • ~
"Well," Ren broke the silence that followed his leader's departure, "that was... odd. What do you think that was about?"
"I told you, Ren. It was a confession!"
Ruby's ears reddened at that, and they would have reddened further if It were not for Yang dragging her away, saving her from the curious glances that team JNPR was throwing her way.
"Confession my ass! C'mon, Rubes, let's get back inside."
If going back inside meant that the discussion was over then Ruby was sorely mistaken because no sooner did the door slam shut was she assaulted with a torrent of questions.
"Ruby, are you okay?"
"I'm fi-"
"Did that creep hurt you?"
"Yang, he's not a-"
"When I get my hands on that guy, I'm going to make him regret even laying a finger on my dear, sweet, innocent, little sis!"
"Yaaang, you don't have to-"
"Oh, I know I don't, but I want to. It's no problem; what are sisters for? Don't worry, Ruby, I promise I won't let that guy anywhere near you."
And with that, Ruby had lost her; there was no talking to her sister when she got this worked up. That's not to say that she wasn't worked up herself. But she was more the confused and wanting some answers sort of worked up. She wanted to know why Jaune was like that. Why was he soaked? Why was he crying and looking at her like- like she was a ghost? Why did he- he...
Her cheeks tinted at the memory of not two minutes ago, of him and her a-and- his tongue- 'Erk!'
"I'm going to bed! G'night!" She declared loudly, her sad attempts at avoiding the situation and her unwanted recollection. With a swiftness that looked like she was using her semblance—when really she wasn't—Ruby hopped into her bed, pulled the covers over her head, and pretended to sleep, complete with exaggerated snoring sounds.
"Yeah, you get some sleep, Ruby. I could only imagine how horrifying that was for you."
Now she wouldn't call it horrifying per se. She blushed some more at the unconscious admission, but at least Yang was calming dow-
"Can you believe that- that- that punk?! Where does he get off assaulting Ruby like that?"
—or not. Ruby sighed.
"I don't know. Quite honestly, I'm just glad that he wouldn't be chasing after me anymore."
"Of course, you would say that, Weiss-cream" Yang snarled at the heiress.
"Did anyone else notice how he looked a bit off?"
"Off?! Try freakin' mental!"
"I meant his clothes. I don't think I've ever seen him in anything other than his-"
"—Who cares about his clothes, Blake?! That sonova bitch just stole Ruby's first kiss! Her first kiss! That's sacred! Sacred I tell you!"
The subject of their discussion stuffed her head underneath her pillow and tried her best to ignore the soul-crushing embarrassment her sister was unknowingly inflicting upon her. 'Oh sure, Yang, tell everybody about your poor sister's kiss count; it's not like it's private or anything.'
From there, all she could do was tune everybody out unless she wanted a headache come next morning. Try as she might, she couldn't sleep, however, and whether she admitted it or not, it wasn't just Yang that was keeping her from catching some well earned Zs.
Ruby paused when the errant thought drove past her tired and really-should-be-sleeping-already brain. 'My... My first kiss...?'
It's weird how they tingled still even now as she reached up to touch her lips with her fingers, like an electric current that was more pleasant than painful was running through them. She bit her lips to make it stop. It was all she could do to keep her tongue from darting out to wet them. 'Why Jaune?' She could only ask as she worried for her friend.
She needed time to think.
'But not about Jaune! No, wait, I just did. Ugh! Stupid brain! Shut up! Shut up! Shut UUUP!'
~ • ~
His legs carried him towards the spot where he had last fought Cinder, to the pillar that should have been his final resting place. He ran his hand over the cool stone, perfectly sculpted and still standing. It didn't look like a battle had been fought here at all.
Eyes roaming over the sight that sprawled before Beacon Academy and beyond, 'It doesn't look like a battle's been fought anywhere,' Jaune thought. His home... it wasn't a wasteland, 'at least, not yet.' If Beacon yet still stood then this must be a time before Cinder, before all his friends had died, before the fall of the great cities and civilization itself, before Ruby- his Ruby had- had-
Jaune shook his head free of the soul-crushing reminder of his past failures; he had more pressing things to worry about; too many in fact that he had no idea where to begin. Questions of how was he not dead; how was he even there in the first place, were pushed back to the far recesses of his mind in favour of the gift he had been given, a gift he never could have imagined even in his wildest dreams.
'A second chance.'
For Jaune, to fathom such a thing took his breath away. This was his chance to prevent the future that was coming. The future where he had lost everything. The hope he dared to house in his heart threatened to make it burst.
But how to go about it?
Decades worth of training, combat expertise, and war doctrine flooded him with ideas always at odds with one another. When one popped up another countermanded it. Then another idea would present itself only to be met the same fate as the ones before. It continued on like this until his ears rang and a line of pain carved its way to the forefront of his brow. He was spiralling even though he knew very well that the leader should have been the last one, if not never the one, to lose himself.
Without even thinking about it, he shoved his hand into his breast pocket relieved to feel his scroll still there. He stumbled onto one of the benches that surrounded the courtyard before taking the device out and began watching one of the many memories that lived inside. It calmed him like no other, the ringing in his ears quieting to a dull hum.
Soon, his consciousness was finally able to cut through the clamour of ideas, and his mind, honed to the razors edge of efficiency with his years of living, fighting, and surviving, began to craft him something resembling a battle plan. The wicked grin on his face and the hope in his heart grew.
Oh my gosh, Jaune! I can't believe you're Wolves' Bane now!
History described him as one man and Cinder Fall an inevitable tide that sought to crush him and everything he had ever known and ever loved.
Nah, it's just a stupid title.
Stupid title?! Do you even know how many people have been given that name?
Yet he had eluded her and her armies for years that it took him actually walking up to her doorstep just so she could even have the chance of doing him in.
No. But I'm sure you'll tell me.
He had turned all those who had sought to make prey of him into prey themselves, and culled more grimm than any other hunter that he'd been awarded the title of "Wolves' Bane" d'Arc, the thousand slayer.
One.
When he spoke, kings and queens listened. When he raised his sword, so too did armies. When the fires had burned everything away, he remained. He had faced the end of the world on his terms, and though he had lost, it was not without bloodying the noses of his enemies.
One?
A legend to his comrades and a nightmare mommy Grimm told their baby Grimm so that they would eat their vegetables, that was who Jaune Arc was. One man...
You, Jaune. Just you.
And now that one man had infinitely more to work with rather than just his wits and the weapons passed onto him by his loved ones.
He would take this chance, and this time, he was going to do it right. He will be better. "I'm coming home, Cookie," he told the woman in the scroll, "just one last hunt," before flipping it shut and back into his pocket. He stood with a determination he hadn't felt in a very long time.
He had work to do.
~ • ~
[Bang bang bang!]
"Now who on earth could that be at this time of night? Glynda, be a dear."
The woman rolled her eyes before walking to the door and opening it. And when she did-
"Ozpin, we need to talk."
Well, that's it for setup. Not the most original trope, I'll admit, but I just really like how Jaune is such a convenient character. The every-man, if you would.
Updates will be every 2 weeks on Sunday; maybe earlier, maybe later, it really depends on my work schedule which is rather sporadic, to say the least of it. I will try to keep to the dates as best as I can; consider it a challenge to myself. You hear that me?! You will not deny myself!
