AN: This is a plot bunny that popped up in my head and built a nest, refusing to leave. Depending on ability, motivation and feedback, I might turn this into its own fic down the road some day. Think of it like a pilot chapter.
One Good Reason
The living room of the Arc family home was utter pandemonium. Shreds of colorful wrapping paper, the noise of a gaggle of children of widely varying ages, a bulky golden retriever just as hyperactive as she'd always been, and the paper plates with slices of birthday cake, lovingly baked by their Opa Carl, set the scene to any casual observer, and the two parents present wore beleaguered smiles. On the one hand, the entire family was here, rather than scattered to the winds with their varied pursuits. On the other hand, the cacophony was slowly driving Renard and Rose Arc insane.
Renard sighed softly, draping his left arm across his wife's shoulders, squeezing her to him as they watched their brood with wistful smiles. Saphron was leaving for college in Vale in the fall, and Ivy was the last one to be starting school the coming year as well. Everyone was growing up, and there was a certain amount of justifiable pride to be had in how well they had stayed together so far.
Ren's smile faded as he remembered one last thing he had to do today. The one duty he wished he never had, but was honorbound to uphold. "Jaune, could you come here for a moment?" he said, standing straight and tall like the figure he knew the boy idolized. Deep azure eyes watched the look of puzzlement on his young son's face, but his tone hadn't conveyed in any way, shape or form that he was in trouble, so Jaune pocketed the electronic game he'd received from his Grammy Eloise (definitely his favorite grandparent), and trotted over to answer his father's summons.
"What's up, Dad?"
"Let's step into my office," Renard said evenly, regretting his phrasing instantly as Jaune's face fell. "You're not in trouble, Son, I just want to talk to you for a little bit, away from your sisters. You can go back to your cake and ice cream afterwards."
"Okay," he replied, his bearing a little more confident now.
They walked down the hall from the living room, past the bedrooms of Jaune's two oldest sisters, Saphron and Marguerite, and stepped into Renard Arc's personal refuge from the estrogen surplus in the house. Taking a seat behind a large oaken desk, he motioned with his strong right hand to the large, well-upholstered chair usually reserved for stern talkings-to and serious conversations. Jaune took his seat slowly, the old leather creaking as it gave under his meager weight. Though it was a room he'd been in many times before, he couldn't help but have his gaze drawn to the various souvenirs and gifts his father had accumulated over the past twenty years as a Huntsman.
"Jaune, I need to ask you a question."
"I swear, dad, Vi's lying!" he preemptively protested, used to being the scapegoat for his older sister. "Besides, that vase was already broken!" he whined.
"That's...not what I'm talking about, Son."
"Oh."
"And in the interest of not dealing with your mother about it, I'm not going to ask you to elaborate."
"I...thanks, Dad."
Renard couldn't help but smile at the simple gratitude of his only son, something which he sadly didn't share with most of his eight sisters, being either headstrong teenagers or blissfully ignorant children.
"Son, I have to ask you something, the same as my father asked of me, and his father before him. It's very important that you answer honestly, and from the heart, no matter what you think I want to hear. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir," Jaune replied meekly, unable to entirely shake the feeling that he was in trouble.
"Now then, Jaune, tell me. What do you want to do with your life?" Renard intoned solemnly, his face composed and neutral in spite of his feelings on the matter.
"I want to be a Huntsman, like you, Dad. More than anything."
Renard sighed softly, wishing he didn't have to uphold tradition for once, but he continued.
"I suppose I should have expected that," he muttered. "What you want and what you need can be quite different, my son. Why do you want to take up the burden, Jaune?" Renard asked, seeing a brief hesitation in his son as he gathered himself as much as any twelve year old boy could. "Take your time," he added in reassurance.
Jaune again took a moment before speaking. "Because of my sister," he said simply, leaving his father to wonder briefly which one he meant until he clarified it. "Five years ago today, Dad. Remember?" Jaune asked, getting a gentle smile and a nod from his father.
"Saph? Have you seen Sunny?" Jaune asked his oldest sister as he trotted towards her space at the fire pit within the Arc family campsite.
"No. Did you ask Dad? She was following him around on the perimeter check while we were setting up camp," she said, tying the last taut line hitch for the large canopy tent, larger of the two surrounding the freshly-built, rock-lined fire pit. "You're seven years old, Jaune, you need to be more responsible with her. You're the one who wanted a dog, remember?"
"Ugh, you sound like Dad," Jaune grumbled.
"You take that back or I'm burning your comic books when we get home," she replied testily. Second Mom was a title she'd begrudgingly accepted, but Saphron Arc would be damned if Second Dad was getting added to it.
"Sorry," Jaune replied sheepishly, immediately softening his sister's anger.
"Did you ask Mom?" Saphron prompted helpfully.
"She's busy with Liv," he grumbled. He'd mostly gotten over the fact that he wasn't the baby of the family any more. Mostly.
The five year difference between Jaune and his one younger sister had left him in her position far longer than any of the rest of the Arc children, not to mention Grammy Eloise and Opa Carl doing their level best to spoil their only grandson as well. Still, it was something he didn't usually begrudge the growing toddler, but today was his seventh birthday for crying out loud! You only turned seven once!
"Still, she might have seen her," Saph said hopefully, breaking his concentration.
"Oh, well, yeah, I guess," he conceded. Looking around, and tossing his mop of unruly blond hair about in the process, he at last spied his parents at the edge of camp, tending to their youngest child. Olivia's tiny hands were held by their father, the girl standing on wobbly feet as Renard gently coaxed her forward. Jaune's mother was beaming at both Olivia's progress and the tender actions of her husband, another reminder of precisely why she'd married the man.
"Da," Olivia babbled, getting a huge grin from her father before she stumbled and plopped down on her butt.
"Whoops!" Renard quickly said, a cheerful and humorous tone taken to moderate Liv's emotional response. Taking small children into the wilderness of Anima was a risk, but one he was well-trained for. "Upsie daisy," he said, taking her hands again and helping her to her feet, the toddler's face wavering between determination and bawling. "That's my girl," Renard beamed as she took another step, her smile nearly bringing her mother to tears of joy.
"Mom?" Jaune cut in, his parents startled but recovering quickly.
"Yes, Jaune?" Rose replied.
"Well, umm," he began, a flick of his eyes towards his father betraying his sudden hesitance.
"What is it, Jaune?" Renard asked, reserving judgment on whatever problem the boy seemed to have.
"Have either of you seen Sunny?" he asked nervously.
Renard took a deep breath and sighed, keeping his thoughts to himself rather than address a young boy's lack of responsibility. It helped that dogs were, well, dogs, and thus not exactly the easiest things to manage.
"Last I saw, she was chasing rabbits in the meadow over by the river, that way," he said, indicating the direction with a nod of the head. "Remember, don't chase after her, she'll think you're playing. Call her, and then run away once you've got her attention, she should come along. Don't take too long, Jaune," he added.
"Zzhaah," Olivia said, her pronunciation mangled, but close enough that everyone present understood, especially with her stubby arms reaching for her brother.
Jaune was torn between his little sister's affection and wanting to get after his dog, but the parental gaze upon him reminded him which was more important. Renard and Rose Arc's smiles grew even wider as he took Olivia's hands, supporting her as their father had been moments before.
"She still can't say my name right," Jaune grumbled.
"She's making progress with her speech therapist, Jaune. Don't be harsh," his mother gently rebuked him.
"I'm not being mean," Jaune protested. "She gets Saph's right!"
"She looks after her, Jaune. Unless you're volunteering to start changing diapers," His father added, smirking when his son looked like he'd just gotten off a roller coaster at the city Carnival.
"I'm gonna go look for Sunny," he said, pulling Olivia into a hug for a moment before he handed her off to their mother. Rose picked her up, not wanting to dally with dinner around the campfire looming.
"Be careful, Jaune!" she called after him as he trotted off toward the river.
His shouted response was eaten by the breeze as he ran, Rose's face turning to a frown that her husband quickly recognized.
"He'll be fine," he reassured her, closing his eyes for a moment and pushing his Semblance as far as he could manage without exhausting his Aura. He opened his eyes again, exhaling in relief until he saw his wife's irritated scowl. "Clear out to half a mile at least, maybe one."
Rose Arc showed how reassured she was by not shifting her expression a single millimeter.
"The boy needs to learn to watch out for himself."
Her eyebrows lowered slightly.
"I'll go after him," Renard said abashedly. "Keep an eye on him from a distance," he added to try and salvage his point of contention.
"That sounds like a wonderful idea, my love," Rose said sweetly.
Jaune, of course, had no idea of his parents' disagreement, his attention focused on his loving, if disobedient, dog. He repeatedly called her name, pausing in between to listen for the usually vocal retriever. Several minutes later, he caught the first hint of a response, and he made a beeline for the sound. He finally caught sight of the pale yellow dog at the base of a lone elm tree whose gnarled roots nearly reached the water's edge.
Gasping for breath, Jaune approached the dog, her attention darting all around the meadow. She ran to the tree, forepaws bouncing off the trunk as she doubled back to him, stopping just out of his reach before going back to the tree again, barking excitedly the whole time. Jaune tried several times to grab hold of her collar, failing each iteration, his frustration mounting quickly.
"Ugh, what is wrong with you?" he growled, walking closer to the tree. "Stupid dog," he further grumbled. Sunny barked again, bracing her forepaws high on the tree trunk, one of them slipping off a thick, vertical smear of inky black river mud. Jaune cocked his head quizzically at that, since his dog's fur wasn't dirty in the slightest, and he could see all of it as she stretched up to chase…something.
Probably a stupid rabbit again, he thought, not realizing how wrong he was.
"Come on, Sunny," he said frustratedly, getting a hand on her collar at last. Jaune pulled to reinforce his command, but the dog barely seemed to notice. He tugged harder, pulling the large retriever away from her quarry for several feet before she yanked him off his feet and got back after it.
Jaune grunted in frustration from his seat on the ground, his own ears starting to hurt just a little with the volume of Sunny's barking. He got to his feet again, finally looking up into the dense crown of the frankly gigantic tree above him. Something felt…off. He couldn't explain it if his life depended on it, but Sunny's attention was definitely focused on something, and Jaune was beginning to trust in her instincts.
"Come on, girl," he said softly, reaching for the energetic dog while still looking up. Just as he managed to gain control of Sunny again, he heard it.
A soft, high-pitched noise that sounded uncannily like a whimper.
Jaune's blood ran cold as he suddenly realized he was alone in the wilds of Anima, his father too far away to save him, with God-knows-what within easy striking distance. Mimic Grimm were always well-camouflaged and capable of vocalizing at nearly human proficiency, a nature film had once proclaimed. Thylarctos, the smaller, infinitely more vicious arboreal cousins of common Ursae, were native to southern Sanus, but finding out-of-place Grimm was hardly unusual either, according to his father at least. And that was not to mention any other sort of creature, Grimm or otherwise, that would love to make a snack out of a very scared seven year old boy.
His fear nearly kept him rooted to the spot, but he began to step backwards very slowly, keeping his attention directed upwards. The crack of a branch got Sunny's attention again, her alert gaze unwavering as she plopped her butt onto the ground, still poised to spring. Silence prevailed for a singular moment, a trembling Jaune's eyes darting furtively about for the best escape route or piece of cover he could find. Without warning, the lower limbs parted as his fate dropped onto him, small and slimy black, with spindly limbs flailing in midair.
Jaune would swear to his dying day that he most certainly did not shriek like a little girl right then.
The beast was upon him in the blink of an eye, its weight slamming them both into the ground. Jaune's ears rang with the impact of skull on skull, even as he pondered how he hadn't been eaten alive yet. He barely had time to think about it before Renard Arc had bolted into view with a speed Jaune had never witnessed, yanking his assailant off him. Ren held the shrieking animal by the neck with his left hand, his right unlimbering Shadowbane from its magnetic holster on his back, leveling the business end of the shotgun/axe hybrid at his attacker's face before he froze.
The momentary lapse allowed their assailant the opportunity to pull a knife from somewhere, two strikes stabbing into Ren's forearm and bouncing harmlessly off his deep blue Aura before he dropped his own weapon to grab the wrist of the snarling gremlin in his grasp. A brief application of pressure caused the knife to drop to the ground and Renard quickly spun his quarry around, wrapping it in a bear hug from behind, squeezing firmly inward and silencing the thing, gasps of breath trying to muster the power to continue screaming but failing as Jaune's father shushed the thing like he had done every time Jaune had woken with a nightmare while Renard was home.
It was this that truly got Jaune to reassess the situation, the black river mud coating their companion smearing off onto Renard's Huntsman garb and showing hints of pale skin underneath. Legs, filthy, but actual honest-to-God legs stopped struggling after a moment more, the small child in his arms going limp from a mild application of positional asphyxiation. Ren quickly released the kid, slightly smaller than even the small-for-his-age Jaune. He cradled the little body as he knelt, his own breathing returning to normal as he checked to make sure the foundling was all right.
"Hey, kid," he began, trying to wipe their face clear of mud. They struggled weakly, breathing shallow and rapid as they regained their breath. "You're okay, everything's okay," he gently reassured them. They whimpered softly, body shaking with barely suppressed sobbing.
"What happened? Why are you out here?" Renard asked, his most warm and fatherly tone of voice on display.
"We fell in the river," the little girl replied, her voice a timid whisper.
"Do you have any family nearby?" he asked, getting a slowly shaken head in response.
He gently shushed her again, pulling her to him in a far gentler hug than he'd first given her. "You're safe now, sweetheart. I'm a Huntsman, and I'm not going to let the Grimm get you, okay?" The young girl whimpered again, burying her face in Renard's chest, the Huntsman well-accustomed to getting dirty on the job. Jaune's father nodded upwards to silently get his son's attention before motioning towards his weapon, which Jaune picked up and secured in its normal place.
His father stood, lifting the girl's slight frame like it was nothing. "Let's get you back to camp and clean you up. You hungry?" he asked, and she nodded in response. "My wife Rose is a wonderful cook. My name's Renard, but you can call me Ren if you'd like," he added, widening his paternal smile a bit before he paused, his precious cargo breaking into uncontrollable sobbing again.
"Come along, Jaune," he added before stalking off towards camp.
Jaune paused, watching his father walk away for a moment and rubbing the small knot on his forehead before his gaze fell to the ground. He bent down and picked up the dropped knife from the ground, a dark steel blade with an odd, convex profile sweeping back to a hilt highlighted with brass hardware. Being careful to keep the pointy end away from him, Jaune began jogging after his father, Sunny eagerly nipping at his heels.
"Here you go, dear," Rose Arc said warmly, serving their guest her bowl of rabbit stew before even the rest of the family. She sat huddled under a blanket, a towel wrapped turban-style around her freshly-washed hair courtesy of Saphron, who had recently learned the trick herself. From what Jaune could see, she hadn't said but a handful of words since getting to the Arc family campsite, though this could just be nervousness at meeting his relatively large family. He'd seen it before, with the few friends who'd ever visited his home, overwhelmed by the chaos of four girls with an often absent parent.
Violette grousing about her dad picking up another stray certainly didn't help.
Jaune wasn't exactly happy either, but his displeasure was rooted in the fact that this girl had scared him nearly to death and his head was still dominated by a dull throb of pain. In addition to evaluating him for a concussion, his mother had given him an aspirin and a kiss on the forehead, but neither had fully resolved the issue. The sun was hanging low over the horizon now, Jaune shuffling through the dinner line and getting his stew with a side of the local flatbread freshly baked in Shion yesterday. His mother's cooking mollified him somewhat, his chosen seat a short distance away from the cooking fire.
As he ate, he kept a wary eye on their mostly silent guest, her apprehension slowly ebbing with each bite of the rich stew. Her hunger won out quickly enough and soon she was shoveling a second bowl into her seemingly bottomless maw without regard to any of the manners that their mother had instilled in all of the Arc children. He might have squawked about it but for the barest hint of a smile from the girl when Rose had offered her seconds with her warm, motherly smile.
Mom just had a way with people.
Speaking of, Rose Arc meandered over and sat next to him on the small log that served as a bench. "How are you feeling, Jaune? No nausea, I see," she commented on seeing his own bowl nearly empty.
"My head still hurts a little, but I'm okay," Jaune reassured her. He didn't want her trying to draw blood if he could avoid it.
Jaune had learned at an early age that there was a reason her patients called her Doctor Vampire.
"Quite a day you've had," she remarked casually, setting a small paperboard box into his lap. "Happy birthday, Jaune." she said warmly.
"But we already had my party before we left," Jaune said, eyeing the pale pink box with cautious optimism, especially when he spied the gothic script 'S' embossed on the gold foil sticker holding the box top closed.
"I know we did, but your Opa wanted to make sure you had your favorite on your birthday rather than just the big sheet cake for the family."
Jaune broke the seal and slowly pulled the box open, a soft gasp escaping his mouth.
"Kirschtorte," he whispered reverently, the chocolate shavings on top of chocolate icing a dead giveaway even if he didn't already know his grandfather's signature Atlesian dessert on sight. It was a smaller cake, six inches across and just as tall, something that sold very well as a 'date' dessert for two.
Or a single serving for a growing young boy.
"Feel better about today?" Rose asked.
"A little," he replied, trying not to drool.
"Well, you should."
"Hmm?" Jaune asked absently, debating whether to just dig into his dessert with his gravy-coated spoon or wait a moment to properly savor his prize before getting proper utensils.
"You did a good thing, Jaune."
"Oh," he replied, his shoulders slumping a bit. "I didn't really do much, Dad did," he said, still bitter over the emotional roller coaster he'd been subjected to.
"Do you have any idea how many things have to happen in sequence for us to reach every moment in our lives? If I hadn't gone back and changed a test answer, didn't get into UV med school? You and I wouldn't even be having this conversation. Never would have done my residency at Beacon, never met your father, and you all certainly would never have been born. Even the small moments mean something in the end."
"Yeah, well, it still isn't helping that she isn't saying anything. Why can't she go back to her family so we can get back to our trip?" he asked, coming dangerously close to whining.
Rose took a deep breath, buying time to find the words. "It's pretty obvious that she doesn't have a family, Jaune. Not any more," she amended, letting the reality of it sink in. "Can you imagine what it feels like to be her? What if one day, all of us just disappeared? Me, your father, your sisters?"
Jaune's eyes blinked before turning upward in thought for a moment.
"Yes, including Violette. You two are going to outgrow this nonsense someday," she muttered. "You'd be scared to death, cold, alone and hungry."
"We don't even know her. We don't know anybody around here!" he said, his lowered voice equal measures of not wanting to get his father involved and consideration for their guest.
"Jaune? Strangers are just friends we haven't met yet," she said, echoing her own mother's sentiments on the matter. Her motherly smile was the perfect frosting on the teachable moment cake, and Jaune's expression softened. "That little girl doesn't have anything in the world right now except those raggedy clothes hanging by the fire and my food in her belly. But you know what she could use most of all right now? A friend," she added. "Just try and be nice, okay? I need to finish cleaning up from dinner, Saph's too busy helping keep an eye on Liv, Marguerite's got her nose buried in her Scroll reading God knows what, and Vi's…not a people person. Your dad's out there trying to find some clues as to our new friend's situation, but the way he tells it, this is far too common outside the Kingdoms."
Jaune paused for a moment, reflecting on his schoolmates who had once, or worse yet still, lived in the local orphanage. Even if he couldn't put it into words, he could feel their isolation, the daily tension born of uncertainty. Their inability to make friends even with each other would have been something he tried to rectify if he weren't so bad at it himself.
He risked a glance over at her, which quickly turned into a long, hard look. The girl's eyes told the entire story. Pain, loss, fear, anxiety; again, nothing he could put into words, but his thoughts immediately went to Robin DeLisle. The wiry young boy had become enrolled at Carillon Elementary School halfway through Jaune's first semester, having been the lone survivor of a Grimm incursion in a village on the frontier. He'd never managed to fit in, either at school or with foster parents, and ran away five months later. The cautionary tale on the lips of every Orleanais parent ever since was that of poor Robin, dead after being mauled by stray dogs near the city dump.
She looked just like him, huddled by himself in the school cafeteria.
He looked back down at his present, the boundless love on display from his immediate and extended family. How much of it was something he took for granted? Not to mention several of his mother's patients showing him love on the occasions he'd spent time in her office. It wasn't right, any of it.
"Thanks, Mom," he said simply, his heart a little heavier and his soul a bit wiser.
"Don't thank me, thank your grandfather. Kirschwasser isn't easy to get these days."
"He used the real stuff?!" Jaune asked, his eyes wide. The Atlesian schnapps was a far better flavorant than the widely accepted, but inferior, locally-made substitute, not to mention his own age being at issue.
"A little bit. I don't want to have to treat your cirrhotic liver, young man. Just enough in there to get the flavor right, remember to thank him when we get home. Oh, and," she paused, looking over both shoulders, "don't tell your father," she half-whispered.
"About what?" Jaune said, echoing a phrase Saphron had used in his presence once in similar circumstances.
"Exactly," Rose replied with a knowing smirk.
"Plates and forks are in the red box, right?" he asked, getting a nod from his mother. Without another word, Jaune ambled over to the small wagon they'd rented along with the lone mule to haul the camping gear for their increasingly large family.
Jaune had a birthday cake to eat, after all.
"Hey," Jaune said as loudly as he dared, plopping himself down onto the ground next to the young girl he'd helped rescue. She started with a soft yelp, but settled down quickly enough, her pale blue eyes looking at him and then the boxed cake he held in his lap, a plate and utensils in his far hand. "You still hungry?"
She shook her head hesitantly, but he could see her gaze fixated on the promise of dessert.
"I mean, I could eat this all by myself, but then I'd have a tummy ache all night. Think you could gimme a hand?"
Jaune learned that moment the simple, profound joy of making someone else smile.
He returned it eagerly, opening and unfolding the box with all the reverence it deserved. The handiwork of his grandfather combined with a healthy dose of his mother's care in keeping it both secret and unblemished over their travels for the last few days truly a sight to behold. Jaune handed her a plate and fork, a regular butter knife sufficient to the task of dividing the cake into more or less equal halves. He would have used the knife he'd found, but his father had confiscated it almost immediately since it was both dangerous for a seven year old and not actually his. Like the gentleman his father was trying to raise, he offered her the first piece, gently flopping it onto her plate, cut side down to keep the frosting intact until she dug in.
He wasn't a barbarian, after all.
"My Opa owns a bakery in Orleans, that's where we're from," he said offhandedly, jabbing his own fork into the cake and shoveling a hefty bite of the deliciously rich chocolate cake, the thick frosting balanced by the whipped cream and macerated black cherries between each of the three cake layers to produce a perfectly balanced flavor profile.
Again, Jaune didn't have the words, but he didn't care.
He had cake.
He hummed in gluttonous delight at the taste, only to find her echoing him. Jaune and the girl stared at each other in silence for a moment before he snickered, taking another bite.
"It's really good, isn't it?" he asked, noticing that she'd nearly wolfed the whole thing down already.
Her smile grew wider as she nodded.
"My Opa knows this is my favorite, so he made it for my birthday. I turned seven today," he said with a little pride, his smile sliding a bit more neutral after a moment. "How old are you?" he asked, an innocuous enough question.
His young companion's eager smile vanished like smoke on the wind.
"S-seven…I think," she said timidly.
"You think?" Jaune said in disbelief. Maybe she wasn't good with math? "What's your birthday?"
"I…don't know," she whispered, her pale blue eyes misting over.
Jaune opened his mouth, but managed to stop himself before he barreled ahead and did real damage.
"Well, you're eating birthday cake, like me, and you're seven, like me, so…happy birthday?"
"But…"
"I mean, you don't know that it's not your birthday, right?" he reasoned with the ineluctable logic of a child.
For the first time today, she wasn't speechless out of fear.
"What's today?" she asked after several moments of dumbstruck silence.
"June the third, AV seventy-seven," Jaune answered, his smile growing with hers. "Happy birthday," he said with genuine warmth. "Today is the first day of the rest of your life," he pronounced sagely. "Opa Carl always says that," he added with considerably less authority behind it.
"Happy birthday," she replied, her lips trembling for a moment before she lurched forward, wrapping Jaune in a fierce hug. It took him a moment to reciprocate, his instincts having managed to move the rest of his cake out of the way in the nick of time, one hand balancing the remains of his present while the other returned the hug. "Thank you," she whispered.
Jaune could tell it was through tears.
"Mom says that strangers are just friends we haven't met yet," he said, the lesson still fresh in his mind.
"Your mom's nice," he heard through a sniffle.
"Yeah," he concurred, growing a little uncomfortable hugging a girl for this long. Looking around in his awkwardness, he could see that the girl's towel had fallen from her head, a short coif of bright orange hair, still damp from her bath, incapable of holding it there while she moved. He released her and she took the hint easily enough, scooting back to her seat next to him.
"I'm Jaune, Jaune Arc," he said, offering her his unburdened hand.
She paused before taking it, shaking tentatively. "I'm Nora," she said simply.
"I just want to be there for people like her, Dad. It's a good career and all that, but I want to be able to be out there, for people like Nora, and Ren," he added quietly, the boy's death haunting his sister still. "I can't do that teaching school, or building houses, or being a doctor like Mom." The fact that none of Rose Arc's brood had expressed an interest in following in her footsteps was begrudgingly accepted by their mother.
"The happiest moment of my life was the first time I saw her smile, because I knew that smile was because of me." He paused as Renard's expression grew unreadable.
"You're sounding like you're in love, Jaune," he said in a very even tone.
"I mean, of course I love her, she's my sister! You do too, right?"
"Of course, Son, your mother and I love all nine of you so very much. We just want what's best for you."
"If it hadn't been for you, Dad? None of us would have been there for her. I want to do that for someone else, lots of someone elses," he clarified.
"It's a lot of hard work, Jaune. I hope you understand that."
"It's what I want. It's what both of us want," he added, Nora's own thoughts on the matter abundantly clear.
Renard steepled his fingers, deep in thought for a full minute. Jaune squirmed a little under his father's gaze, but was hopeful he'd finally convinced the man of his sincerity. Renard Arc sighed deeply, placing his misgivings aside as much as he could.
"Very well. Go on, enjoy the rest of the party, and get a good night's sleep, the both of you. We're starting right after breakfast."
"Both of us? Yes!" Jaune shouted, happy for his sister even more than himself. "Wait, you asked her first?"
"Of course. I needed honest answers from both of you, and I know you can't keep a secret from Nora if your life depended on it," he muttered. "Go on, Son. I have to talk to your mother about all this. She's going to be worried, but not as much as I am. She doesn't have the benefit of what I know about all this."
"Thanks, Dad," Jaune said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.
"Don't thank me yet," Renard replied, standing to accept a genuine, loving hug from his son.
"I love you, Dad."
"Love you too, Son. Now get out of here, I need to go find your mother, tell her we're enrolling you at Pharos after next year, have to get the ball rolling on that by the end of summer," he said with a hint of regret in his voice.
Jaune noticed his father's melancholy, but only briefly as his excitement buried it. He moved to the door, slipping through and closing it behind him.
"Sooooooo?" Nora asked expectantly, having been leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting for him.
"Who's got two thumbs and starts his Huntsman training tomorrow?" he asked before popping both thumbs up and jamming them into his chest. "This guy!"
"Yes!" Nora shouted exuberantly, catapulting herself from the wall and glomping onto him. "This is gonna be awesome! We're gonna be the best Huntsman team ever! We need a name! Ooh, Firecracker and Short Stuff!"
"You're like, half an inch taller, Nora. And it's all hair!" Jaune protested, a sore spot for nearly five years now.
"Whatever you say, shorty," she mocked, stepping back a bit.
"One of these days, I'm gonna hit a growth spurt and just blow past you, you'll see," he groused.
"Shyeah, like I'll ever let that happen," she replied, rolling her eyes. After a moment, she fell into a more somber mood. "Just promise that we're always gonna be there for each other, okay? Dad's never been shy about telling us about last stands and all that. Grimm come for one of us, they'd better bring enough for both of us," she added with fiery determination visible in her eyes.
"You bet your butt, Sis. Jaune and Nora Arc are gonna be the most kick butt team in the history of the Kingdom."
Jaune lay on his back, an open window next to his bed allowing the cool night air to blow into his bedroom, barely moving the wide open drapes. Summers in Orleans were always a muggy affair, and a particularly oppressive heat wave had taken hold before the weekend had started. Still, in spite of it all, he couldn't sleep, even with just a thin pair of gym shorts and a sheet alone covering his form.
Light from the shattered moon bathed his room in pale blue light, more than enough for him to find his Scroll on the nightstand beside him. Sliding the device open, he tabbed into his mail application, still open to the letter he'd received, and read hundreds of times since, last month.
Esteemed Mister Arc,
It is my personal honor and privilege to inform you that your application to attend Beacon Academy for the upcoming session has been accepted. You are cordially invited to attend initiation on Tuesday, September 9th. Student prospects are to report to the Vale Metropolitan Air Docks on September 8th at two p.m. sharp for transportation to the Academy grounds. If you are unable to attend, or have accepted admission to another Academy, R.S.V.P. my office immediately so that we may notify alternate prospects with sufficient time for them to arrive.
Again, thank you for your interest in our Academy, and welcome to Beacon!
signed: Glynda Goodwitch
Dean of Admissions
Beacon Academy
Kingdom of Vale
Jaune Arc was grinning like an idiot.
He'd done it. They'd done it.
Speaking of, he thought, hearing his door open and shut quietly.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" he asked, knowing exactly who'd entered the room. "I was wondering if you were going to sneak in here tonight," he said quietly into the darkness.
Without a word, he felt a weight settle onto the right side of his mattress, a dense, muscly weight that would cling to him like a barnacle if he let it.
"I'm just so nervous," Nora whispered, allowing Jaune to scoot over a little bit before she took up her customary nesting spot, her shoulder in his right armpit and her head resting on his chest. With an ease born of long habit, Jaune wrapped both his arms around his adopted sister, squeezing gently for a moment before they both relaxed.
"Dad catches you in here again he's going to have an aneurysm," Jaune said softly.
"Shyeah, like him and Mom aren't either passed the hell out or banging like rabid minks right now," their parents' habits after he'd returned from a mission well known to all but the youngest of their siblings. "'Sides, what are they gonna do, ground us?" she further added.
"That does seem a rather hollow threat," Jaune conceded.
"We're gonna have the best team, Jaune. We're gonna graduate at the top of our class, and then we're gonna go out there and save 'em all. All the lost little boys and girls."
Jaune couldn't help but remember exactly how personal that goal was to her.
"One thing at a time, Nora. Let's get past initiation first," he cautioned her, ten years of reining in her oftimes overeager nature experience enough to know how to handle her quirks.
"Together," Nora reminded him. "Let's get through initiation together."
"Always," he promised her for far from the first time in their lives, planting an affectionate smooch on her forehead.
Nora sighed happily, snuggling into her longtime teddy bear.
Jaune's eyes flickered open, the large tent that housed himself, his three older sisters, and now Nora, was largely open to the night air, fine mesh screens thankfully keeping the mosquitoes at bay. The drone of crickets would be almost deafening to most city dwellers, but for him and his family, it was simply part of the benefits of camping in the wilds. Even with that, he could hear that something was amiss. Sunny, curled up at his feet, was clearly dreaming, if her faint woofs were any indication, but it was the girl at his side whose cries were far more troublesome.
Nora was fidgeting fitfully, in the throes of what couldn't be that pleasant a dream, if her soft whimpering was any indication.
"Go back to sleep, Jaune," Violette groaned quietly, getting a frown directed at her back for an answer.
Jaune sighed softly, trying to figure out what to do besides waking their parents and potentially their infant sister, which never ended well. Hesitantly, he reached over, nudging gently at Nora's shoulder. A firmer nudge started her out of her nightmare with a strangled cry of fear, a few seconds necessary for her to realize where she was.
"Dad says we need to not have nightmares out here, attracts Grimm," he whispered as loudly as he dared. "Are you okay?"
While her face didn't show it, she nodded silently, trying to be brave, like her friend had told her. Nora relaxed for a moment before she realized that he was still touching her shoulder, the both of them feeling a little awkward before Jaune pulled his hand back.
"Try and get some sleep, okay?" Jaune said, not wanting to earn the ire of his sister or parents.
He laid back down, head resting on the rolled up bundle of his t-shirts that served as a pillow. Jaune shut his eyes, hoping that he'd be able to practice what he preached, when he heard movement on his right. Without another word, he felt Nora crawl up and lay against him, her head resting on his chest and her shoulder in his armpit. She clung fiercely to him, still trembling slightly.
"Nora?" Jaune asked, deeply confused.
"Promise you won't leave me?" she whispered hoarsely.
"I…yeah, I promise, Nora. An Arc keeps their word," he added sincerely, one of the first things Renard had taught him as a life lesson.
"You'll always be there for me?"
"Always," he replied, a warmth in his chest spreading as he realized he meant it, utterly and completely.
Without another word spoken between them, Jaune slipped his arm around his bedmate, squeezing their spindly frames together.
Always, they both thought, drifting off to a peaceful sleep.