So, the poll has ended and Raise has taken the victory. It was exceptionally close at first, less than ten votes between, but then Raise pulled ahead. I am all too aware of the allegations of cheating, and some reviews fully admitting they made multiple accounts to vote, but the site affords me no way of policing that. I'm left to assume that if cheating did happen, that it happened on all three – as some were claiming to be cheating for Remnant Invicta, and others for Raise and Dream. There's also an equally fair argument that the other two might have had more of an advantage (Invicta especially) because it told people to go directly to the poll, whereas fans of Raise had to "remember" to go to the poll for a whole week and might well have missed it in many cases.

Ultimately, I don't want to get into it. I said I would abide by the results and I will. While I'm sure there may have been better ways I could do this, cheating will always exist and there will be those who could find their way around any rules I placed. Also, I had to have an answer between Tuesday evening and this morning, so I'd have time to write the chapter.

It is what it is, and Raise will take the weekly slot.

Cover Art: GWBrex

Chapter 17

Praise for Mistral as strong security sees no harm directed at delegation. "Nothing like Vacuo," says Councilman Sleet.

Atlas Times

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All eyes on Vytal Festival as old interview records show JAUNE ARC once dreamed of becoming huntsman at Beacon Academy. Can Beacon's teams wow?

Vale Daily Tribune

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Power team forming as Pyrrha Nikos seen training with Weiss Schnee and Jaune Arc

The Mistral Review

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No confidence vote surrounding failed diplomatic visit sees fierce leadership battle in Council

Vacuo Today

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Adam Taurus calls for STRONG MESSAGE to world at Vytal Festival

Kuo Kuana Express

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Jaune wasn't sure what exactly to make of Pyrrha Nikos. If pushed, he would say he'd offered the hand of friendship more out of a sense of politeness than anything. He hadn't known her well enough to feel otherwise, it was expected of him to be friendly with foreign guests, and, in a weird way, he felt sorry for her. Pyrrha was being pushed into interacting and befriending him and she didn't even realise it. She probably didn't realise that her performance at that would be judged as well, and that she'd be held responsible if anything went wrong, so he'd swallowed any awkwardness he felt and offered to be a friend. That didn't mean he was one.

An offered friendship to a foreign person he'd only be seeing for about two weeks was just that. He figured they would spend their time together in official events, then remain at best pen-pals, quickly forgetting about one another after a few months of absent messages. He didn't mean that in a cynical sense, even if it sounded that way, but he'd grown up making friends with other kids on family holidays, and then losing contact with them after. That was just the way the world worked. It was easier to be friends with people closer to you.

Pyrrha Nikos obviously hadn't gotten the memo.

Pyrrha Nikos clung to them like glue.

It wasn't forceful or weird or unsettling, more… honestly, it felt kind of sad. The way she smiled and genuinely thought them friends just because he'd extended a hand made him feel awful for not feeling the same way, which in turn pushed him to try – if only so as not to come across a complete jerk.

She sparred with Weiss, talked with him, joined them for a movie and even acted as their guide on a press trip around Haven Academy, where they met with Leonardo Lionheart and several teams competing in the Vytal Festival. They'd obviously been hand picked by the headmaster, and were on their best behaviour, which meant they were stiff and wooden and not at all acting natural. Jaune didn't hold it against them since they were probably as forced into the role as he was. Haven was nice, he supposed. It was hard to say when he only saw a sanitised snapshot of it, and not the real place. The headmaster seemed unusually nervous, but that might have just been the pressure because of a celebrity – or two, really – visiting. He made several comments toward Pyrrha about her studying there in the future but didn't dare do the same for Jaune. His future was set out in stone already.

"It's annoying," said Pyrrha, confiding in him and Weiss after the visit, when they were back in their aircraft on the way to the city. "I hate the way they assume what's going to happen like I don't have a choice."

"Why?" asked Weiss. "You're going to become a Huntress. It's natural they expect you to attend Haven."

"I just don't like being put on the spot like that. Instead of asking where I want to go, they assume I'll go to Haven and wait for me to confirm or deny it. If I do, it'll be a media storm. If I don't, I'll be called a liar if I choose somewhere else. It's my choice," huffed Pyrrha. "Why does everyone care where I study?"

Because you're famous, thought Jaune. He didn't fully grasp it himself, even now. He could logically understand why people were interested in his health, wellbeing and location because those factored into whether he would be available to heal them, but people diving into his love life or his favourite foods and hobbies were just weird. They hadn't wanted to get to know him before he had his Semblance, so why were they acting like they wanted to get to know him now? The obvious answer was that they didn't. The less-obvious answer was as to why they suddenly thought they did. It was something he hadn't been able to figure out. Was it just the fame? Why? Was it the money? That, at least, would make sense, but some of his fans were a lot more rabid than greedy.

For Pyrrha, he assumed it was attraction. He didn't feel the creep for saying she was good looking, and he'd had crushes on celebrities on the television before. As for Haven, it was obvious why they wanted her. They'd be able to get a lot more applicants and funding if they had someone famous at the school. It was mercenary, but he could respect the fact there was some logical argument behind it.

"Well, isn't it the same for you?" asked Pyrrha, struggling to explain. "You want to attend Beacon. Doesn't everyone expect you to go to Atlas?"

"I don't let the beliefs of others affect me," said Weiss. "And I simply refuse to comment if I'm asked."

Pyrrha looked annoyed – not at Weiss per se, but at how easy she made it sound. She didn't seem to understand that Weiss had grown up with fame all her life. It was something Whitley had explained to him, how it was easier for them because they'd never known the alternative and had specialised training from a young age on how to act and deal with the pressure. Jaune suspected that was part of why Weiss never noticed when she was turning Pyrrha off.

It was usually after their spars, which both girls enjoyed, when Weiss would start to talk about Pyrrha's accomplishments and time in the arena. He was fairly sure she was just making conversation and trying to get pointers, but he always noticed how Pyrrha would start to close off and try to divert the conversation away. Alas, Weiss was not so easily distracted and wouldn't let be, leaving Pyrrha to answer with far less cheer and a slow closing off the castle gates. Weiss never noticed. He did because he'd been like Pyrrha once – a nobody.

Weiss didn't understand why Pyrrha wouldn't want to talk about her accomplishments, nor why Jaune wouldn't want to talk about his. There was an objective part of him that sort of understood her angle. Pyrrha had earned her titles, so should rightly feel proud of them, and he assumed she did deep inside, but Weiss didn't seem to grasp that it wasn't the earning that upset Pyrrha; it was the attention, or the reminder of how her career was becoming less about what she accomplished in the ring, and more about what she did or said outside of it.

Much like his.

"You've grown up with this," said Jaune, interrupting and coming to Pyrrha's rescue. "You don't understand what it's like to have no one care about you one moment, and then have your every word and action scrutinised by complete strangers the next."

Pyrrha smiled gratefully at him, while Weiss frowned and said, "I know that, but I don't understand why it is such a problem. Pyrrha is a champion. That was achieved through her own skill and hard work. The opinions or actions of others shouldn't impact her. Or you," she added, looking his way. "Let people have their opinions. They hardly matter in the grand scheme of things."

Ignore those you don't like. Jaune wished it was that easy. Maybe it was, and maybe it was something that took more years of being famous than either he or Pyrrha had experienced. Maybe it was something you learned after ten years being watched, but if so, and if the only solution was to consider yourself above the common person, then he wasn't sure if that was a good solution at all.

One thing he knew for sure was that Weiss was driving her away talking like that.

Jaune cornered her later over it, away from Pyrrha and on their last night in the hotel before the first rounds of the Vytal Tournament set to start the next day. It was also two hours after his last session at the hospital, leaving his aura drained. Weiss had come with him, holding his arm and smiling proudly at the cameras. Proud for being beside him, or for him. He told himself it was the latter since Weiss certainly didn't need to cling to him for fame. It was just cynicism to think that way. On the way back, he paused outside his hotel room.

"Weiss, can I have a word?"

His girlfriend blinked, looked to Elm and Vine – his guards for the evening, arguing as they often did – and said, "Yes. Is something wrong?" She sounded nervous, probably because if the way he'd said it. Jaune cringed.

"Not between us. I…" He ran a hand through his hair. "It's about Pyrrha."

"What about her? I thought you were getting on with her."

"I am. Pyrrha is fine. It's you." Jaune paused after he said it, alarm bells ringing in his head. Weiss's eyes had grown wide, and her lips were parted. He couldn't even fault her shock. "Not like that!" he said quickly, trying to recover. He never did his best thinking when he was on low aura and tired. "Not you being a problem… just…"

"Just what?" asked Weiss, her arms crossed.

"Pyrrha isn't happy talking about her time as an athlete. It's obvious. I wanted to warn you that you're pushing her away is all. You're getting on her nerves when you act like her problems are small things, and it's driving a wedge between you." He trailed off helplessly. He could tell he'd surprised her, and maybe upset her as well. Weiss didn't show her emotions all too clearly, but the way she tightened her crossed arms and stepped back from him was hard to miss. "I didn't mean to sound harsh, Weiss. I'm tired and-"

"Then maybe we should leave it here if you're too tired to think." Weiss' voice was clipped and her lips were pursed. "I'm tired as well come to think of it." She turned, without giving him a chance to respond, and said, "Goodnight Jaune."

"Weiss-" He tried to reach for her but she skirted away faster than him. His fingers grasped air. "Goodni-" The door to her room opened and slammed shut. The sound of it woke Elm and Vine out their little spat.

"Did something happen?" asked Elm.

"Yeah. I stuck my foot in my mouth." He sighed and pushed into his room. He'd only wanted to help, but even he knew he'd gone about that with all the tact of a Beowolf. "I'll deal with it tomorrow."

/-/

He did not, in fact, have a chance to deal with it the next day. Weiss was in full punishment mode, which involved spending her time with her sister and brother and ignoring his attempts to talk to her. Whitley shot him an exasperated roll of the eyes, while Winter offered a sympathetic nod. Jacques took him aside and told him Weiss would come around, and he just needed to give her some room. His efforts to apologise by calling her had been ignored, and his texts weren't being answered.

Jaune was therefore in a rotten mood when he was collected by General Ironwood and taken to the Amity Colosseum, a floating arena that the Vytal Festival was held in. Or the tournament – the festival itself was down on the ground; a chance for the hosting city to show off and reap the economic benefits.

Jaune was expected to show interest, especially since Leonardo Lionheart met them to go up in their aircraft, so he made sure to ask a few quick and easy questions. "Why have Amity at all? Couldn't this take place on the ground?"

"That's a good question." Headmaster Lionheart looked genuinely relieved by the question, as if the tension had been broken. "Originally, Amity was designed and created by Atlas as a gesture of peace – representing Atlas in the sense of a floating coliseum, much like their floating city. I dare say the honest answer as to why we continue to sue that is economics. It's simply cheaper to use it than to have to build four stadiums."

"Finding the space for them would be a problem as well," said General Ironwood. "The last great expansion was Mountain Glenn, and that ended in disaster."

"True. True." Leonardo nodded. "The people would rightly criticise wasting what could provide homes for hundreds of people on a gladiatorial arena. I can't say they're wrong either. Plus, it would be an awful waste to have Amity and not use it, no?"

"I suppose so." Jaune smiled, more for the man's sake than anything. A few cameras flashed, and he was content that his duty was done. No one could accuse Mr Lionheart of having been a bad host. The faunus looked relieved as well. It really was stupid how much pressure people were putting on everyone because of him.

Amity was empty for now. He'd been brought early, along with a lot of the students and competitors, and the staff and various security teams, as well as stall-owners, who had rented space and were now putting up brightly coloured tents, food carts and carnival games. A few waved his way, and Jaune waved back. It didn't cost him anything to smile and wave, and if it made them happy then he wouldn't begrudge them that. When they reached the arena, Jaune was introduced – or re-introduced – to a pair he had met long before.

"Mr Arc." The man's eyes sparkled behind his glasses, and he bowed his head, leaning on his black cane. He even had the same green suit. "It's good to see you in better condition than the last. I do wonder if you remember me."

"Headmaster Ozpin. And Miss Goodwitch."

The man smiled, and the woman beside him inclined her head distractedly. She was busy typing something into a scroll and looked exhausted. "Glad to see we were so memorable. I've kept track of your time in Atlas. It pleases me to see you've accepted the necessity of a structured timetable and having some time off. You were driving yourself into an early grave in Ansel."

He had been, and as much as he complained and hated the way things were in Atlas, Jaune knew that it was better than it would have been had he stayed at home. General Ironwood had been as good as his word, providing money, safety for his family, free time and more. Things weren't perfect, or even good, but they were so much better than they would have been.

"I'm grateful for Atlas and General Ironwood's support."

"A stock answer," said Ozpin, "But I can tell you actually mean that one." He chuckled and looked to Ironwood, smiling briefly. "I'm pleased you're looking after him, James. I dare say you've likely stepped in to ease his burden as well."

"He's a smart young man with a good heart." He placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Though I do find myself wishing he would take a little more time off or accept help or advice along the way." Jaune grimaced at the not-so-subtle hint to visit his therapist again. "How are you, Ozpin? How is Beacon?"

"Still standing, still driving Glynda into an early grave." The two shared a laugh, while the woman glowered at them.

"Troublesome students, Glynda?"

"When is it not?" snapped the teacher. "Ozpin's obsession with having representatives from every year continues to be troublesome. The fourth-year teams are disciplined and on their best behaviour, but Team CFVY continues to antagonise."

"Team CFVY or Miss Adel?" asked Ozpin.

"Miss Adel. Obviously. That girl is a menace."

"I'll never understand your reasoning for having a team from every year," said Leonardo. "I don't think there's been a first or second-year team that has ever won the Vytal Festival. You're robbing the older years of their chances to compete."

"It's a learning experience, old friend. Besides, it keeps things interesting and lets us spot any particularly talented individuals." He chuckled and added, "We don't all have the benefit of being the hosting school and being able to send three times as many teams as everyone else. This year's budget has not been kind."

Ironwood scoffed. "Story of my life."

"When are they ever?" agreed Leonardo. He clicked his tongue. "Politics, eh?"

"You don't get to talk," snapped Ironwood. "You're hosting and knew Jaune would be visiting. I bet the Council of Mistral have been bending over backward to force investment on you."

Leonardo laughed. "I admit to nothing."

It was interesting to listen to some of the most powerful people in the world talk like this, and Jaune couldn't help but equate the odd experience to himself. The three Headmasters and the teacher from Beacon were famous figures, and people that were talked about in hushed whispers. They weren't celebrity-famous, but reputation-famous, which meant they were less stalked than he, and more talked about with awe and respect. They were the kinds of people you would say it was an honour to meet, and listen to what they said, but you wouldn't hold a normal conversation with, and yet here they were doing just that.

I guess they're among equals, thought Jaune. It wasn't awkward because they all had the same level of fame, so they could talk naturally and not have to worry about anything. Kind of like me and Weiss, or me and Pyrrha. It was a lonely experience at the top, so it only made sense to surround yourself with the few others who were at the same level, and who could talk to you normally. He finally understood why famous people married other famous people.

They were shuttled up to the VIP boxes before long, which were situated at the highest point of the stadium in big glass boxes thick enough to block out most sound. Comfortable seats were made ready for them, while there was a private bar at the back and waiters and waitresses came and went. Though most people could and likely would be watching out the full-glass panels in front of them, there were also large screens above those that were better zoomed into the action and would be easier to watch, but which would probably lose a little of the magic. What was the point in paying for seats if you were just going to watch it on the screen?

It surprised him to realise how excited he actually was to see this. It was something new, something not related to his Semblance, and it was a chance to see huntsmen and huntresses fight.

"There's going to be a speech before the action starts," Ironwood told him quietly as the other VIPs arrived. Several looked his way, some with surprise, and there were many whispers. Jaune was sure he saw a few movie stars who were looking at him like he was the famous one. It was daunting.

"What speech?" asked Jaune. "I'm not speaking, am I?"

"No. No. It's a general one by the host. Lionheart will have to say a few words as well. I'm warning you because he's asked permission – and the Council of Atlas gave it – to have you on hand to resurrect any fatalities."

Jaune winced, but he hadn't been to the hospitals today. "My aura is good for it."

"There won't be any casualties." Ironwood gripped his shoulder. "I'm only warning you so you're not surprised. But believe me when I say it is a PR move and nothing more. There hasn't been a death in the tournament for the last forty years. The safeguards are in place and this is a competition, not a blood sport. There will be broken bones, concussions and bruises, but nothing that will require your assistance. I just wanted to forewarn you so you're not left to worry. I didn't agree to this."

"It's fine. These things happen."

"They happen more than I'd like them to," said Ironwood. "I would much prefer this trip be a holiday for you. You need your chance to rest."

"It's been good so far."

Ironwood hummed, unconvinced, and Jaune wasn't sure why he bothered trying to lie to the man. He was clearly getting updates from the Arc-Ops, and Elm was too damn good at noticing his every sigh and moment of slumped shoulders. "I heard about your little argument with Miss Schnee."

Damn it, Elm.

"It's just a fight. I said something stupid."

"I don't doubt that. I'm a man as well, so I'm no stranger to speaking my mind and wishing I hadn't. Talk to her," he suggested. "Sometimes you need to be the bigger person and apologise."

"I've tried. Weiss won't talk to me."

"Then keep trying. Show her you're willing to put the effort in."

/-/

Weiss was not as happy as she imagined she would be on the first day of the festival. She was dressed in her finest outfit, though she had been told to leave Myrtenaster behind, and sat between her brother and sister, arms crossed and eyes glued to the glass pane in front of her. The fights hadn't begun yet, but she would be damned if she was going to look around and risk making eye contact with Jau- with her – with that stupid, brainless lout. The problem was that she instead had to deal with her family, which was no better.

"Trouble in paradise already," mocked Whitley. "I guess it makes sense. You were only ever interested in him for his fame."

"That's not true!" hissed Weiss. Her temper flared, and if it weren't for her mother and father nearby then she might have stood and shouted in her brother's face. "I love Jaune," she insisted. "I just… He…"

His stupid words. Weiss could hardly believe he'd go and insult her like that – and it wasn't just what he said, but the way he said it. Like she just couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be the centre of attention.

Her!

Weiss Schnee!

That insensitive, idiotic… idiot! Dolt! Moron!

"You say you love him but maybe you love yourself more," said Whitley. "If you're this upset at being insulted."

"I wouldn't expect you to understand anyone's feelings," she replied. "Just because we argue doesn't mean we're not in love." Weiss would have loved to use their parents as an example, but that would have been a sad joke. "We're just having a moment. He needs to understand I'm not going to be insulted like that."

And really, in what way was she bothering Pyrrha? The girl was obviously the same as her – an achiever placed above everyone else because of their accomplishments. If anything, they were one and the same, and it made perfect sense that they band together and be firm friends. Jaune meant well, she was sure, and she didn't hate the fact he'd spoken up in someone's favour, but he could have done it with a little more tact.

Weiss liked Pyrrha; Weiss admired Pyrrha. There had been so few people her age who were interested in becoming huntresses, and even less that she could talk to without them thinking she was after something, or without them being after something from her or her family. Jaune was one, obviously, but that was different. He was her boyfriend and he wasn't going to go to Beacon. Weiss had thought that she and Pyrrha were getting on, and that they could become friends. Best friends, even. And then Jaune went and implied that she was wrong and that Pyrrha didn't like spending time with her, and now she couldn't get that pervasive doubt out her head.

It hurt. It hurt a lot, not least of all people of the number of people she had thought were her friends over the years, and who had turned out to be less than that, or to spend their time mocking her behind her back.

I thought Pyrrha and I were getting along great… Weiss scowled. No. We are. Jaune is the one who is wrong. He's just jealous I'm spending time with her. That felt wrong in her head, since it made him out to be a controlling man and he wasn't. Jaune selflessly spent his time healing and was a wonderful boyfriend. Weiss had no basis or comparison for that, but she was sure he was. Maybe he's just misreading the room. Yes. That must be it. He thinks he is helping but said something stupid. You idiot, Jaune. Was I too harsh? He was so tired and… No. No. Weiss shook her head quickly. I need to hold my ground. If I go to him now and tell him I'm sorry then I'll look stupid, and he'll think he can walk all over me.

Jaune had to understand that, and he would understand that, and she was sure he would accept what she was doing. Little mistakes like this were to be expected, and it was her job to teach him what he'd done wrong and not to do it again.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it negatively," said Winter.

I know he didn't, thought Weiss glumly. That didn't change the fact he'd upset her, and she knew he'd been texting her. Her scroll messages remained unread, because she was afraid that she might crack if she did read them and accept his apology. I can't accept it that quickly or he'll walk all over me. It'll be like mother. I have to be stronger. He has to know I won't stand for being insulted or put down like that.

"Whatever this is," said Jacques, having overheard and butting in as he always did. "You need to put a stop to it. You're making a fool of the Schnee name and threatening the best connections we have ever made. I was proud of you both for getting so close to him."

He said that to both her and Whitley, and though her brother looked happy, Weiss was anything but. Jacques had as good as said he wasn't proud before – which was hardly a surprise, but still, it wasn't something she liked to hear. Jaune was nothing like Jacques, for which she was eternally grateful, but she had to make sure that she ended up nothing like Willow either. Their marriage, when it inevitably happened, would be perfect. Their life would be perfect. They'd be the perfect couple.

"Don't prove me wrong for believing in you. A messy break up would be a scandal."

"We're not breaking up," insisted Weiss, for the second time. "Couples argue, father. That's normal. It's healthy."

Not that you would understand, running roughshod over a woman who retreats into a bottle because she can't deal with you. As expected, Willow was already drinking, and paying no attention to them at all. I won't be like that, thought Weiss. I refuse to be like that.

"I will speak with Jaune after the first fights. We will sort this out then."

Jacques nodded. "See that you do."

God, I feel bad for Weiss even writing this, and especially digging in the nails. I always like the concept of Weiss as the girl who struggles to make friends or really understand what she's doing socially, which I think we got to see in canon with her early efforts to interact with her team, and her adorable attempts to apologise to Ruby. I think that Ruby was probably the perfect first friend for her to be honest, because Ruby is similarly a bit useless socially, and was willing to accept even a flimsy attempt at friendship where others might have been put off (like Pyrrha was).

That said, if that's how Weiss appeared at the age of seventeen and in Beacon, then this story has to imagine how she might be 1-2 years earlier, and even more naïve. Poor Weiss wants to be a good friend to Pyrrha, and genuinely thinks they're getting on like a house on fire, and at the same time is struggling trying to be a good girlfriend to Jaune but has messed-up views of what that means – and romance in general – thanks to her terrible parent situation.

I guess the tl;dr is that Weiss is too focused on not making the same mistakes Jacques and Willow made, to notice the mistakes she is making. She is prodding and poking Jaune to be what she presumes is the perfect partner, not realising she is being a controlling partner. I don't want to say "as bad as Jacques" because she isn't. Weiss' mistakes are born of fear, inexperience and uncertainty, whereas Jacques is a greedy and abusive prick.

Next Chapter: 20th October

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