Chapter 88 - Blake vs Learning
"Yah!" Blake shouted, thrusting her sword forward.
"Yah!" Spinning around, she used her momentum and sliced down at the air behind her.
"Yah!" Horizontal slash to the side-
Her grip loosened, and La Pucelle flew out of her hand, before bouncing off of a tree.
"..." Blake stared at the sword, face slowly burning with mortification.
"..." Jaune had the grace to at least not comment as he gently picked it up, and said: "All right, let's take a break here, Blake."
Blake immediately embraced the ground, panting heavily from exhaustion, before jumping up and yelping as Jaune froze the patch of ground under her.
"Don't lie down immediately, kid." Jaune warned, ignoring the pout she gave him. "Your muscles will cramp and ache if you don't let them cool down first."
"... got it." Blake groaned, gritting her teeth and hissing as her muscles protested furiously.
Jaune took a second to watch her, and make sure she didn't try to cheat, before using his sword to create a block of ice, which he placed in a cup of water.
Handing the chilled drink over to the shambling Blake, he encouraged her: "Hey... you didn't do too badly, kid."
"Truly?" Blake asked hopefully, cheering up at his praise. "Do you mean it?"
"Eh..." Jaune took a moment to actually think about it. Sure, she was a far cry from basically any student in Beacon, but that was a pretty unfair comparison, since most people in Beacon had to have gone through a combat prep school beforehand.
And he wasn't even going to compare her to Arthur or Velvet; the latter had apparently been the Slayer of Caerbannog before she'd asked him to train her, and the former could level a big chunk of the forest with a single swing if he wasn't careful (to say nothing about the wall he'd accidentally demolished).
"Well, you know, for a person who's never picked up a sword before." Jaune murmured sheepishly, before quickly adding: "At least, you're better than me when I first started out."
"Now I know you're just messing with me." Blake frowned at him, skepticism obvious in her dark blue eyes.
"It's true." Jaune shrugged, taking one of her hands, and pointing to the rough calluses on her palms and fingers, the result of years of working the fields. "You're at least fitter than I was when I first started training, kid."
"... and how old were you when you first started training, Si- Mr. Jaune?" Blake inquired in a voice that she clearly thought was casual and not too curious, eager to find out more about her new companion and mentor (she'd have called him a friend, since they were now strangers-that-had-been-introduced-to-one-another, but his eye had started twitching when she'd tried explaining that to him).
Sure, it wasn't like he was quiet and anti-social by any means, but she could tell he was still rather reserved and secretive, and getting answers out of him that actually made sense (besides "divine intervention") was like giving medicine to her baby sisters.
"Oh, about your age." Jaune shrugged, turning to check on the fish he was slowly cooking over the fire.
"Really?" Blake's eyes widened.
"Yep." Jaune nodded easily.
"You must have been extraordinarily talented, to be as skilled as you are right now, then." Blake observed sincerely, recalling that he'd said he wasn't even twenty years old yet.
"I just had a really good teacher." Jaune smiled softly, before his face fell. "And... and a lot of experience."
"Do you think I could ever be as good as you?" Blake asked innocently.
"You really don't want to be." Jaune answered darkly, more grim than he'd have liked. "Trust me; the experience... isn't worth it."
"... do you want to talk about it?" Blake offered quietly, unable to miss it.
"... it's fine." Jaune shook his head, and quickly changed the subject. "Anyway, while you're not completely terrible, you've still got a long way to go, kid."
"I thought you said I wasn't doing too badly!" Blake protested.
"I said, you're better than I was when I first started." Jaune corrected her, before chuckling: "Trust me, that's really not that big of an achievement."
Then he passed her back La Pucelle, and drew his own sword before demonstrating: "Firstly, your stance; you got a bit sloppy towards the end there. Remember, grip tight, non-dominant foot forward, and keep your stance low and close to the ground."
Blake nodded, but before she could get up to imitate him he shot her a stern look, and reminded her: "Uh-uh. It's still break time for you, kid. Just sit back first and enjoy your water while watching me, alright?"
"... if you say so..." Blake gave in, following his advice "reluctantly", and watched as he ran through a series of simply-yet-brutal attacks, calling out his actions as he did so, as he remembered Pyrrha and Kay doing so, when they'd first taught him.
Finally, as he came to a stop, and easily relaxed and sheathed his sword, Blake quietly asked: "... do... do you think I'll be able to do that in time? That I'll be ready, by the time we get to Orleans?"
"... I don't think so, kid." Jaune answered honestly, remembering the timeline they were working on.
They'd run into someone along the road about half an hour after they'd met (about six hours ago, Jaune reckoned), and managed to get directions to Orleans (as well as Domremy).
As it turned out, by some miraculous stroke of luck (or "providence", as Blake had praised), Blake had actually been heading in the correct direction, and they were about four days from Orleans, as long as they continued following the road.
He knew Blake Belladonna, the quiet ravenette on Ruby Rose's team, was a mysterious and stealthy badass (who sometimes came off as a bit edgy, based on what Ruby sometimes told him).
He also knew that Blake d'Arc, the exhausted kid in front of him, was none of the above.
And he highly doubted that even Pyrrha could have turned her into a hardened champion in just four days, to say nothing of him.
"At the rate you're going, you might be able to defend yourself from a single soldier in a fair fight." Jaune elaborated gently, even as Blake's face fell. "But we've barely even scratched the surface of the basics with these drills, Blake. These moves are all meant to teach you how to use your sword - how to stab, slash, and slice. Knowing which to use, and when to use them, in the heat of battle, against enemies who will definitely more experienced, armed, and armored than you will be? That's a different story.
"And even if I could somehow drill all of that into you in just four days, Blake..." Jaune's voice trailed off, and he closed his eyes, as memories flashed through his mind. "Even if I could turn you into a champion fighter in just four days, that doesn't mean you'll be ready for what you might see at Orleans. There is nothing I can do to prepare you for the battlefield, kid."
"..." Blake shifted uncomfortably, feeling troubled by his words. Then she shook her head, and replied: "Thank you for your honesty, Mr. Jaune. But even so, I must still act. It is the only way to save my people, and stop the world from continuing its descent into hell."
"Hell..." Jaune echoed, remembering the dimension he'd jumped into and out of a fair few times. "... well, at least it won't be hell you're walking into."
"... sounds like there's a story there." Blake casually tried to pry again, distracting herself from the looming deadline that was her destiny with the frustration welling up within her as her mentor, who was totally-just-a-normal-human, once again oh-so-casually referenced something that normal people just didn't experience.
First he said he killed a dragon to get his sword (and what kind of sword could make ice anyway?!), and now it seemed like he'd experienced hell itself!
Or was it just a metaphor?
Why did people from the cities (or heaven-sent messengers) have to be so complicated?!
... well, the priest had mentioned that an angel had wrestled with Jacob for an entire night (and done something that caused him to limp upon his thigh) just to give him a blessing, so she probably shouldn't complain that her mysterious benefactor (who totally wasn't an angel, of course) was merely cryptic and secretive while teaching her.
"Eh, not really." Jaune shrugged. He'd only been in that world for a few days, if not a few hours, after all, and hadn't really done much more than survive, by sticking close to the force of nature that had been the Slayer.
Compared to his other misadventures, it really wasn't worth that much of a mention.
"Anyway... I'm sure we'll figure something out once we get to Orleans." Jaune reassured her, before she could think of doing something drastic and stupid. "For now, though, the fish is ready, so let's eat it before it gets cold."
Blake easily took the proffered stick of fish, before eyeing it with curiosity.
"What's wrong?" Jaune asked, noticing that she wasn't eating it immediately. Perhaps him catching fish by shoving his sword into the river and releasing a burst of electricity had done something to the taste?
"Nothing... I just don't eat fish very often." Blake deflected, cheeks coloring slightly even as she took a sniff. "Pa sometimes manages to catch a few fishes from the river, but I usually let my younger sisters eat them instead."
"Oh, you have sisters?" Jaune inquired.
"Yep." Blake copied his mannerisms, even as she prepared to bite into the fish, unsalted, unsmoked, and unpickled as it was. "All of them younger than me-"
Her words died away as she took a bite.
She slowly chewed on it.
Her eyes widened.
She took another bite.
"I take it you like it?" Jaune asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"This... is really good." Blake praised him sincerely, even as she eagerly devoured the fish. "Where did you learn how to do this?"
"You pick up a few things when you have seven older sisters." Jaune answered modestly, before smugly adding: "I can also dance, style hair, and play the guitar."
"Was this before or after fighting a dragon?" Blake huffed with just a bit of envy, as she dug into a second fish. Truly, it seemed like some people had all the luck.
"Before, actually." Jaune replied. "There... wasn't much time to practice, after that."
"... do-" Blake tried for a third time.
"Oum, you really don't know when to give up, do you?" Jaune groaned in exasperation, interrupting her question.
"..." Blake looked away bashfully, before excitedly answering: "Well... like I told you before, Mr. Jaune; strangers are just friends you haven't met, right? And we've already met, so we're friends now!"
Jaune's eye twitched again.
"... and also..." Blake quietly admitted, after a pregnant pause. "Also... you're the only person I've met, who's actually agreed to support my dreams. And it looks like there's something bothering you, so..."
Jaune studied her, seeing the desperate hope in her dark blue orbs, before sighing.
Oum, had he been this hungry for validation and companionship when he'd been in Beacon?
"Well the name's Jaune Arc. Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue, ladies love it."
"Sounds like Pyrrha's on board for Team Jaune. Spots are filling up quick! Now, I'm not supposed to do this, but maybe I could pull some strings, find a place for you. What do you say?"
"I'm a natural blond, you know."
Yep.
He had.
Oum, he sincerely wished Blake good luck when she finally started crushing on someone.
The only piece of advice he could possibly give her on that front was that guitars did not always work.
But still, even though he appreciate the gesture...
"You've got a good heart, kid." Jaune rubbed her hair appreciatively, earning him a reproachful glare from Blake. "Maybe I'll tell you more of them some other day."
"Really?"
"But for now, before you slip into a food-induced coma..." Jaune changed the subject, ignoring the look of betrayal she shot him as he grabbed a stick from the floor. "It's time to teach you some basic reading and writing."
"... do I really have to?" Blake grumbled, even as he began writing letters in the dirt.
"Yes." Jaune said sternly. "You might need to sign contracts and make negotiations in Orleans; if you can't even read what you're agreeing to, people are going to take advantage of that."
"... can't someone read them for me?" Blake pointed out.
"And how do you know that person has your best interest at heart?" Jaune challenged.
"... well, the Lord has guided my path so far?" Blake tried.
"Uh-huh." Jaune replied drily, before retorting: "And how did it work with the Normans and Burgundians?"
"... point taken." Blake's face burned, and she began to focus on the scribblings on the earth that Jaune was making.
As Jaune began to write full words as well, Blake studied them attentively, and repeated after him as he began pointing to letters, and calling them out.
When he got to the actual words, however, she soon noticed something.
"Uh... Mr. Jaune?" Blake called out hesitantly, raising her hand.
"Yes, Blake?" Jaune raised an eyebrow.
"... why are you teaching me English?" Blake asked.
"... uh, what language have I been speaking all this time?" Jaune cocked his head in confusion.
"... we've been speaking French this whole time." Blake pointed out.
"... what."
Author's Note: Something something hate dialogue something something delays something something.
Presumably, Zelretch's spell that Merlin used to summon Jaune (which was also responsible for his first dimension jump) also came with a translation package that allowed him to subconsciously understand, speak, and read whatever language is suitable for the situation. Of course, since it's all automatically translated for him, he doesn't know how to consciously write in a different language.
It hasn't been a problem so far, since I've always been simply assuming that English (or whatever they'd call it in Remnant and Skyrim) has been the dominant language in the worlds of Fallout, Skyrim, and RWBY, and the people of Camelot were also speaking an older dialect of English, so they could at least decipher Jaune's writings (also, he was dealing mainly with knights when he was using written instructions; when dealing with villagers, the scarcity and value of paper and the low literacy rates of the world would have forced him to simply use oral instructions).
But alas, poor Blake will never learn the true value of written French erotica from Jaune, by the looks of it.
And before anybody asks, no, this was not planned out in advance. This is me totally retroactively covering my ass. I couldn't have planned it in advance, after all, seeing as how I didn't even know about FATE when I wrote the first chapter (or had a plan for how he was summoned).
