Content Warning: Referenced sexual assault
When Jaune had reprimanded her at the lunch table, Weiss had been shocked. As their group of friends melted away to carry on with their business, the full impact of what had happened set in, and the heiress had been gutted, going through the daily motions of a student at Beacon with a dull, mechanical numbness. That night, she had gathered up the tattered remains of her pride and returned to Team RWBY's room. She'd expected further admonishment, even hostility from her team members, but Ruby was studying at the desk, Blake was reading, and Yang was playing some game on her Scroll.
She had to focus on what she could repair at that time. She saw the young Rose girl give a profound yawn, clearly struggling to stay awake as she powered through her studies. Well...there was only one thing to do. Quietly, she peered over Ruby's shoulder.
"Hey," she whispered.
Ruby blinked away the sleepiness that had been threatening to overwhelm her. "Weiss?"
"How do you like your coffee?"
"Uh...five sugars!"
Those crystal blue eyes narrowed, but Weiss said nothing, merely fading back into the dim light of the dorm room. "Here," she said a moment later, passing a steaming cup of coffee into Ruby's hands. She struggled for a moment to think of what to say. "I always wanted bunk beds when I was growing up," she finally admitted. "Oh, and that's wrong," she pointed out one of Ruby's test answers.
Ruby smiled.
Later that night, Weiss turned over in her bed, trying to sleep. Weiss had been reprimanded before, often severely but...whenever her father had taken her to task, it had been because he had wanted to use her as a pawn for some sort of maneuvering, usually one that involved her interests only tangentially, if at all. Jacques Schnee had never shied away from admitting to her that she was a means to extending his wealth and influence further across Atlas, and Remnant as a whole. While his barbed comments were often accompanied by stinging slaps, all that they did was stoke the flame of defiance that was building within her.
But Jaune…
He hadn't raised a hand to her, or spoken to her cruelly, or even raised his voice. All that he had done was tell her, in simple language, how her behavior had let him down.
Why have you made a liar out of me?
She hadn't even considered how he must have felt during this whole time. His whole world had come undone, and he'd come here. To do good working for Ozpin, sure, but also, she knew, to be with her. When he was here earlier, she had been the one person in the whole wide world that he had to look forward to meeting, and he'd spoken of her in such glowing terms to two of the first real friends that he'd made in his entire life.
...If you can't see that, then you should return to Atlas.
The words "Without me" went unsaid, but had hung in the air all the same.
Disappointing her father was nothing new. To a certain extent, it was even fun. But Jaune didn't have high expectations of her to use her as a tool. He had high expectations of her simply because he thought the world of her.
Or at least…
He had…
Weiss realized that she'd taken him for granted, just expecting that nothing that she could do could cause him to lose his regard for her. She was Weiss and he was Jaune, and that was all that there was to it. Of course he adored her. Why wouldn't he? She had always accepted that, with their respective social ranks, she would be reaching down to lift him up in order to stand at her side but...what if she wasn't good enough for him? What if she was one of the Atlesian poisons that he needed to purge in order to fully realize his potential as a knight, a Huntsman, and a man?
What if she'd carelessly driven away the rock onto which she'd clinged since she'd been twelve years old?
What if she'd lost her Jaune?
The realization of how cold and lonely, how much lesser her life would be without him, caused her tears to spill freely, soaking into her pillow. She tried to hold it in, but a great, rasping sob escaped her.
"Weiss?" From above her, Ruby peered down.
"I-I'm sorry, Ruby," Weiss croaked, her voice hoarse. "Try to get t-to sleep…"
Yeah, no chance of that happening. Ruby hopped down, kneeling on the floor next to her bed. "Weiss, what's wrong?"
"I...I was so awful!" Weiss hiccupped. "I was terrible, and I've lost my Jaune because of it!"
From across the room, Yang peeked an eye open to watch the proceedings. In the blonde bomber's opinion, Weiss deserved to squirm for all that she'd put Ruby through. If she'd been in her sister's shoes, she'd have told the heiress to deal with it, and keep it down so they could get some sleep. But Ruby was...well, Ruby, so of course she couldn't just let it lie.
Weiss was openly crying, and Ruby being Ruby, she started crying as well. Yang rolled her eyes as the two dorks were embracing, tears streaming down their face as they tried to console each other.
"I'm a terrible person!" Weiss wailed.
"We can fix it! We'll be the best partners ever, the best friends, and Jaune will see that you're done being mean!"
And of course Ruby would help out her romantic rival instead of ruthlessly capitalizing off of the heiress's vulnerability. It was frustrating, sure, but...well, Yang was proud of her little sister. She always knew the right thing to do.
"Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve it!"
"Because we're besties!"
[/]
The Headmaster has suggested that I write down my thoughts and impressions, saying that creating a well-ordered mind is the first step to healing whatever spiritual damage has kept me from unlocking my Semblance. If nothing else, this would be a more productive use of my so-called "free time" than those disastrous attempts to compose poetry.
The others, they must never find my poetry notebook. Especially Yang. It must remain hidden at all costs.
I know that someday, somehow, you are reading this, Yang, and the answer is no, you may not read my poetry notebook.
Because I know you, Yang.
If you weren't the sort of person who would sneak a peek at someone's journal, then how are you reading these words?
You're not allowed to read my poetry notebook because your teasing would make Weiss uncomfortable. Also, while you may be the best, you are also, objectively, verifiably, just the worst.
You absolutely are. Go ask Ruby. And put this journal back where you found it before you go.
To the task at hand, then. I decided that I would first record my thoughts on my teammates, allies, and...yes, I believe that it would be fair to adjudge them all as my friends. Livre de Chevalerie posits that "People of superior virtue will naturally come into association with one another," and as I contemplate my seven friends, I must concede to such wisdom, and hope to make myself into one who is worthy to be counted amongst their number. I will begin my survey of such fine and worthy individuals with my teammates on Team JNPR, and of them, with my partner, Pyrrha Nikos.
Pyrrha is, first and foremost, a warrior.
At the beginning of my time at Beacon, I told Weiss that I would prefer not to be on a team with her if possible. This is not due to any wish to avoid her - I would spend every waking moment of every day with her if I could - but because I simply could not do the sorts of things that I do with Pyrrha and the others with her. This is not a slight against Pyrrha's personality - she is a fine companion and a stalwart ally on the battlefield - but rather, an indictment of my own weakness as it pertains to Weiss.
Weiss is a capable fighter, to be sure, and with much potential yet to be realized. It is not due to any lack of belief in her that causes me to hesitate. But when facing off against Pyrrha, we can push each other to the absolute limit and beyond, with neither hesitation nor guilt. The thought of smashing Weiss's head against the ground causes my stomach to turn and my hands to tremble as I so much as set the notion to paper. The thought of smashing Pyrrha's head against the ground makes my grin ruefully as I consider how she will immediately strive to repay the act in kind, or with interest.
I could never bring myself to seriously raise a hand against Weiss, and that would cripple her development as a Huntress were we to be partnered together.
Even as I'm meant to be contemplating my teammates, my thoughts linger on Weiss. Is there ever so foolish a creature as a man in love?
To the task then, Jaune. Pyrrha is, fundamentally, an internal contradiction between the warrior's spirit burning as a furnace in her heart and the kind, shy girl who wishes to be loved and accepted as she is. I will not say here what she confided in me as it pertains to her origins, lest others read these words - Yang, if you wish to know, you'll have to ask Pyrrha yourself - but suffice to say that she views her very existence as, at best, a terrible imposition, and at worst, a crime. It matters not how often I, or others, tell her that the fault lies not with her, but in the end, only she will be able to convince herself of her intrinsic value and how much she means to all of us.
Even as I write this, I hear her apologizing to Nora over some trivial matter, one which is likely also not of her doing. It takes what otherwise would be an endearing personality quirk and makes it...tragic. All I can do is guide and care for her as best I can, and hope that one day, she finds true peace with her origins and herself.
"From the Journals of Sir Jaune d'Arc the Preserver, Champion of Vale," Arc Family Archives, Château d'Arc
[/]
The first indication that this was going to be a long, long day for Team JNPR came when Pyrrha's Scroll exploded. It happened when Jaune was entering the room proper, having just completed his post-workout shower. Pyrrha's Scroll had been vibrating non-stop due to an insane deluge of calls and notifications, until the unfortunate machine finally gave up the ghost and detonated. This sent Jaune scrambling for Ascalon, and the rest of the team jolting awake in a panic. Poor Percival fell off of Jaune's bed and darted under it, sticking his face back out to bark at whatever intruder had caused such a commotion.
Pyrrha woke up to the sight of a towel-clad Jaune, sword in hand, darting around the room looking for explosive devices. "Jaune?" she asked blearily. "What is it?"
"Unknown explosive device. Went off, possibly prematurely. Anyone hurt?"
There were a series of negatives, which trailed off as Pyrrha saw the remnants of her Scroll. "Um...Jaune?"
"Yes, Pyrrha?"
"I don't think it was a bomb. It's worse than that."
He raised an eyebrow. "Worse than a bomb?"
She flopped onto her bed with a sigh. "It's my manager."
After quickly dressing, Jaune and Pyrrha went to the Beacon quartermaster to get Pyrrha a new Scroll, and attune it to her contact frequency. Sure enough, she had hundreds of messages, ranging from inquires from fans, angry letters from sponsors questioning the circumstances of her loss to her partner the previous day, to many, many demands from her manager that he pick up her Scroll.
Jaune was bewildered. "I don't understand why there is such controversy to this."
Pyrrha sighed. "It wasn't just enough for me to be the Mistral Tournament Champion, or even to do it four years in a row. There are entire regiments of marketing specialists designated to the promotion of my image. There are considerable amounts of money on the line for various sponsors who want "The Invincible Girl" to help them move products."
"But you're not invincible."
She favored him with a smile, gesturing for him to start walking back to their dorms. "Well, I know that, and you know that, but try telling that to the sort of people who buy a box of Pumpkin Pete's because it has my picture on the box."
"Pumpkin...Pete's?"
Pyrrha shuddered. "Let us never speak that name again."
Jaune was still a bit mystified, but decided to heed his partner's request. Before long, Pyrrha's new Scroll buzzed again. The Mistrali Champion answered the call with a neutral "Hello?"
"Pyrrha." A sweaty, balding, middle-aged man who reminded Jaune of nothing less than a bullfrog given human form stared at her from behind a desk. "What is this that I'm seeing?"
She rolled her eyes, but played along. "I'm not sure, what is it that you're seeing?"
"This video's gone viral of some blonde kid coming in and absolutely cleaning your clock. The hell happened there? Not to mention the Semblance. Kid, now everyone knows you got Polarity, and ain't no one knows how to handle it. You see these talking heads on TV talking about putting an asterisk by your name? An asterisk! I thought we agreed you'd keep the Semblance a secret!"
Pyrrha shook her head. "I never agreed to anything, you ordered me to keep it a secret all those years ago, remember?"
The man growled. "Ugh. Look, I got Pumpkin Pete's breathing down my neck, the new Invincible line of fragrances is gonna need a whole rework after everyone saw you lose a fight, and we're gonna need an official statement sooner rather than later. Is there anything we can use on that Arc kid? Any rumors of doping or something we can use to salvage this?"
Her gaze hardened. "No. None. It was a fight, and I lost, fair and square. We clashed and he came out on top. This time, at least," she said, with a challenging smile in Jaune's direction.
"Well, can we spin this as some lover's spat, or some mythical romance or some shit? Like 'only the one who captured her heart was able to defeat her' or some bullshit?"
Pyrrha frowned. "Jaune and I are partners, and friends, nothing more. I don't care for that line of thought."
"Yeah, well, I gotta tell people something, and fucking quick, sweetheart. These corporate suits will eat you alive if we don't feed 'em something they can use." His ugly frown deepened as he saw the look on Pyrrha's face. "What, you think that now you're in that fancy school, you can do whatever you want? You think you can do what I can do? When I found you, you were just some upjumped gym rat. I made the Invincible Girl happen. I made those deals work, and I made you the figure you are today, so don't think that you can just piss away all that hard work because you're not on the circuit anymore!"
"I'm…." Pyrrha had been about to say "I'm sorry," when it occurred to her that she wasn't sorry. Not one bit. "I'm sure that if you did all of that, as you said, then you don't need me at all. Good luck selling the Invincible Girl without said girl."
"Pyrrha, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that I will no longer require your services at this time," Pyrrha said. She ended the call as her now former manager began to sling invectives and pleas her way. "I'm sorry you saw that," she apologized to Jaune. "That's always been...deeply unpleasant."
"If you don't care for it, then why put up with it for so long?" Jaune asked her.
She sighed deeply, fidgeting with her hands. "I never knew my father, Jaune. Sometimes pressers play up the mystery, like I was sired by some God of War who walked Remnant, but the truth is that...my father, whoever he was, was a violent man who attacked my mother and left me growing in her womb." Pyrrha's gaze was on the floor as she continued to speak. "My mother decided to keep me. She gave birth to me, and raised me, provided for me, all on her own. There were times when I was little where she would go hungry to make sure that I had enough to eat."
Jaune, not knowing what he could possibly say to that, said nothing, and just put his hand on her shoulder.
"At the risk of sounding arrogant, I've always been...gifted, in terms of combat," Pyrrha continued. "It just comes naturally to me. Sometimes I wonder if it's a hereditary trait from my father. I decided that I'd put it to good use, and volunteered for a combat prep school. There's a part of me that...it just loves the fight for the sake of the fight, Jaune. The rush. The challenge. It makes me feel so alive. When I was twelve, my manager - ex-manager, as you've seen - saw me training in the gym one night, and convinced me to enter a junior tournament. I not only won, I dominated. And with my winnings, we didn't go hungry anymore." Pyrrha looked up and smiled at Jaune. "One thing led to another, and somehow fighting for money led to all of those corporate entanglements and fame and everything that went with it. We went from poor and starving to comfortable and then, to thriving. But...I don't need to do that anymore. My mother has invested wisely, and we have enough to live more than comfortably for the rest of our lives. It's just that, somewhere along the way, the little girl who liked to fight just got...lost in all of it."
"I'm glad that you were able to provide for your mother," Jaune said. "And I'm glad that you're able to break free of something that was making you unhappy. I'm sure your mother loves you very much, and would much prefer you to live freely."
"Thank you, Jaune. All I wanted was a better life for her, to show her that...well...that I'm sorry. For everything."
They reached their dorm room, Jaune using his Scroll to unlock the door. "New Team JNPR rule," he announced as they strode into the room.
Nora looked up from her breakfast pancakes. "New Team JNPR rule?" she asked, around a mouthful of food.
Jaune nodded gravely. "New Team JNPR rule: Pyrrha isn't allowed to apologize for things that aren't her fault. All in favor?"
Pyrrha's three teammates all said "Aye," with Nora scrambling to keep from dropping pancake from her mouth.
"All opposed?"
Silence.
"The motion carries," Jaune deadpanned. "Unless specific circumstances prove to the contrary, you should generally assume that it's not your fault and that you don't need to apologize. Thus saith JNPR." He gestured towards the table. "Now go and eat some of those pancakes before Nora gives herself a coronary."
The Invincible Girl may have been no more, but Pyrrha Nikos beamed from ear to ear.
[/]
As the two teams met up before class, the Goliath in the room was the awkward tension between Jaune and Weiss. Jaune was nervous, as if expecting Weiss to bolt at any moment. Weiss, for her part, was contrite and downright meek. That was just weird.
The pair were awkwardly circling each other in conversation, neither one feeling confident enough to just get to the heart of the matter. Yang, for one, was damn sick of it, and just grabbed Weiss, causing the girl to squawk in indignation as she was roughly hustled over to stand in front of Jaune.
"Girl was up all night crying because she thought she screwed the pooch and got you to dump her," was all Yang said by way of explanation.
"Yang!" Weiss flushed in embarrassment as she looked up at Jaune. For his part, the blonde, just tilted his head quizzically.
"Why would you think that I would leave you? The whole time, I was worried that you were going to leave me for speaking to you like that."
"But you were right!" wailed Weiss. Yang rolled her eyes at her teammate's dramatics. There she goes again… "Everything that you said about me was right! I'm going to make things right with Ruby, and from here on out, I promise that I'll make you and Winter proud, every day!" She buried her face in Jaune's chest, clutching him as if she thought he would fade away at any moment. "I'm so sorry for putting you in that position. You were so brave to speak up for poor Ruby…"
"Well, all's well that ends well," Nora said, washing her hands of the entire ordeal before bodily dragging Ren into the classroom. Most of the other students soon followed, usually with some joking comment as Weiss fussed over her boyfriend. Yang took a moment to go talk to her sister, though, who was watching the couple and trying to put on a brave smile.
"Hey, Rubes. You're a good kid."
Ruby sighed sadly. "Thanks, sis."
Yang smiled brightly. "Hey, cheer up! If Ice Queen screws up again, you can always catch him on the rebound, just like Mom!"
She giggled. "I guess Jaune isn't the only one with family traditions, huh?"
[/]
When the teens met for lunch that day, one of their number was missing. "Yo, Sir Rusty, where's Cereal Girl?"
"Cereal Girl?" Jaune echoed, confused.
"Ugh, didn't you have anything good growing up?" Yang griped, deflating.
He shrugged. "Well, I had Weiss." He hugged the girl, who had yet to be pulled from him since their reunion that morning.
"If you keep up with the lovey crap, I'm going to throw something at you," Yang warned. "But no, seriously, where's Pyrrha?"
"Oh, she had something that she wanted to do before lunch today. She should be here….oh, there she is."
Yang turned around, and dropped her fork in shock. Pyrrha had taken the time to have most of her long, blood red hair shorn, leaving her with a pixie cut. Yang knew that Pyrrha had been a pretty girl, sure, but she had somehow managed to fade into the background, a nonentity. But ever since Jaune had kicked her ass the previous day, it was as if Pyrrha had come to life. There was a spark in those emerald green eyes that hadn't been there before. Her new haircut accentuated her high cheekbones and sharp chin, and left the eye free to wander down the long expanses of her graceful neck.
"Hello, again!" Pyrrha called cheerfully, setting down a tray to join her friends at the table.
"Pyrrha, your hair!" gushed Ruby.
Nora grinned broadly, snatching up both Ruby and Pyrrha in a headlock. "We can be the founding members of Beacon's first Hot Chicks With Short Hair Club!" she chirped happily. "So, I'm guessing you ditched the tail after Jauney used it to whip you around like flail?"
Pyrrha slipped her head out of Nora's grip, abandoning Ruby to flail around uselessly on her own. "Well, maybe…" she began. "But I was never allowed to cut it this short before now. Even the way I styled my hair was dictated to me, for maximum market appeal. But now, I can wear it however I want! While my head does feel lighter, I felt like an even greater burden has fallen away from me."
"Good for you, Pyrrha," Blake said, peering over the cover of her book. "What do you think, Yang. Yang?"
The blonde girl in question flushed as she was put on the spot, the expression on her face just shy of outright naked panic. "You look beautiful!" she blurted. "I mean, not that you didn't look like it before, but it was, you know, not like now, but also um…" she rambled to a halt as she realized that she was babbling.
Pyrrha just raised an eyebrow as Yang descended into a hapless mess. "Um...thank you?"
Ruby, still trapped in Nora's grip, snickered at her sister's useless lesbian antics.
"So...weekend's coming up," Yang said, trying to change the subject. "Do you newbies want me and Ruby to show you around Vale? It could be fun!"
Jaune shook his head. "I'm afraid I must opt out. I need to go into the Emerald Forest this weekend."
Ruby finally popped her head free of Nora's headlock, sticking her tongue out at the older girl before addressing Jaune. "Why do you need to go into the Forest?"
"I need some new pants for my combat attire," he answered. "A tunic as well, since Pyrrha destroyed mine yesterday."
"I'm sorry," Pyrrha said automatically.
The puzzlement was almost audible from the other youths. "And you get pants from...the forest?" Nora asked, her head tilted quizzically. "Is there, like, a mall hidden in there?"
"Oh, I just go hunting and use the hides for clothes. Ozpin issued me the school uniform, but it doesn't seem all that practical for serious combat. Since I wasn't issued a combat uniform, I figured that I would be expected to make my own."
"...Jaune, that's ridiculous," Weiss said. "I can buy clothes for you, you know?"
Now he looked confused. "Buy?"
"Jaune, I know I've taken you shopping before."
"Well, yes, but those trips were all buying things for you. It never occurred to me to ask anything for myself before."
One could've heard the pin drop at the table.
"Wow, Weiss, you're kind of a crap girlfriend," Nora said bluntly.
That started off a brief kerfluffle as Nora's statement caused Weiss to descend back into self-recriminations, which in turn made Ruby start trying to boost her self-proclaimed "bestie." This would normally have set off Yang, but for the fact that she was still gazing at Pyrrha's neck and wondering if that soft skin would taste like cinnamon if she nibbled on it, while Pyrrha was trying to apologize for telling Nora not to be so rude.
Jaune looked over at Ren. "Ren, would you be so kind?"
"Of course."
The Mistrali boy focused for a moment, and Weiss and Ruby greyed out for a moment, causing them to calm down instantly.
"Thank you, Ren."
"Any time, my friend."
"Okay now," Jaune began. "Weiss. You don't need to buy me things. First of all, as an aspiring knight, I'm to live modestly, accepting only what I need in order to fulfil my duty protecting the people of Remnant. Secondly, I have no interest in your family's wealth, only in your affections."
Despite her general antipathy towards Schnees, Blake couldn't resist cooing at the romance of the moment.
"Nora," Jaune said, looking over at his teammate. "While I was a soldier in the Atlas military, Weiss's father didn't approve of her romantic interest in a no-name grunt with no future to speak of. This meant that we had to carry out a clandestine affair, stealing moments with each other when we could. Neither of us is used to the freedom to simply be with each other openly and without fear of retribution, and we are both learning how to be in a proper relationship as we go. I would ask you to please apologize to her for your hasty and unfair assessment of her as a romantic partner."
Blake's bow was twitching wildly at the idea of an illicit, forbidden romance between two members of wildly different social classes. If only Jaune had been a Faunus...well, she could change that detail in the story that she would write about them...
Nora looked at her plate, fidgeting with her fork. "Sorry, Weiss," she mumbled, not liking upsetting her leader again.
"That still doesn't explain why you have to go literally make your own pants," Pyrrha pointed out.
"Oh, well, I haven't a lien to my name," Jaune said. "So, I'll just make do and go hunting. Percival's running low on smoked venison treats anyway."
"I can't tell if that sort of self-sufficiency is hot or creepy," Yang piped up, rejoining the world of the cognizant.
"How do you turn animals into clothes anyway?" asked Weiss, curious.
"Oh, well, each animal has just enough brains to tan its own hide," Jaune explained. "After skinning the kill, I make sure to stretch the hide, scrape the flesh off, make a solution of water and brains - "
"And the jury's in! Totally creepy," Yang muttered.
Whatever Jaune may have said in response was cut off as they heard a cry of pain from across the cafeteria.
"Ow! Let go! You're hurting me!" A young rabbit Faunus girl cried out in a thick Menagerie accent as the boys of Team CRDL held her down, allowing Cardin Winchester to pull on her long, brown-furred rabbit ears.
Cardin laughed as he gave them another vicious yank. "See? I told you they were real!"
Blake's gaze narrowed into amber slits. "This. This is why I still wear my bow."
Jaune stood up, and began marching over to the other table. The other teams sat stock-still in shock.
"Oh crap," Ren breathed.
"Release her at once!" Jaune barked, his voice loud enough to carry across the entire cafeteria.
Cardin rolled his eyes. "Again with this shit? Why do you care about some stupid furry bitch when they killed your whole family?"
"This lady has done nothing to earn my ire," Jaune said. "You, on the other hand, I find disdainful on a personal level. Let her go, or I will make you let her go."
"Tch. She can't be a lady, she's a Faunus."
Jaune glared. "Last chance. Let. Her. Go."
The two Valean men stared daggers at one another, until finally, Cardin relinquished his hold on the rabbit girl. She looked back and forth between them before slowly backing away, the tension between the two sparking into something dangerous and ugly.
"What is going on here?"
Glynda Goodwitch, shoulders tense, marched up between the two. "I know that the pair of you were not about to start a fight in the school lunchroom."
"Arc was sticking his nose where it didn't belong."
"I was putting a stop to an unjust and racialized assault upon another student."
She looked back and forth between the two of them. "I don't care who started it, I will not have an unsanctioned fight break out in the cafeteria!"
"Very well," Jaune said. "Then I will provide a sanctioned fight in the training arena."
"What?"
"I hereby invoke my right to issue a Challenge of the Peerage against Cardin Winchester," declared Jaune.
Glynda blinked. "A...a what?"
Jaune ambled over to his table, where he pulled a black book free from a satchel, the Beacon Academy Charter that Doctor Oobleck had provided to him. "As listed in the Beacon Academy Charter, the faculty will respect the right of members of the noble houses of the Kingdom of Vale to resolve disputes between one another in their traditional fashion," Jaune announced, speaking loudly so as to address the entire room. He returned to stand across from Cardin and Miss Goodwitch. "As the last surviving son of the House of Arc, I have the legal right to issue a Challenge of the Peerage - a formal duel - to another noble of the Kingdom of Vale. While the House of Winchester may be a pack of upjumped, nouveau riche pharmacists, little better than drug dealers with delusions of grandeur, they are nevertheless recognized as having aristocratic standing within the Kingdom of Vale."
While Cardin seethed at the insult to his family, Glynda frowned at the Arc boy. This had Bartholomew's fingerprints all over it.
"He's right, you know," Ozpin said, as he casually strode over to stand next to her. " Besides, this is a combat academy. If nothing else, it would be better for these two to resolve their differences in a controlled setting and official capacity." Glynda picked up what he meant right away: that it would be better for them to be on hand to prevent Arc from publicly tearing off Cardin's head and shitting down his neck, causing a massive public relations issue for the Academy.
Oh, and it would be a shame if Cardin were to die, and all that. Truly.
"Now, Mister Arc, as the challenger, it is on you to issue an explanation as to why you seek this duel," Ozpin directed the aspiring knight.
Jaune scoffed. "Where shall I begin?" he said, once again speaking up to address the crowd of students. "I suppose I should start at this alleged man's latest example of thuggish and inglorious misbehavior. Here, in this very room, in broad daylight and before dozens of witnesses, Cardin Winchester and his ill-aspected lackeys did violently assault a young Faunus woman. Cardin cruelly yanked upon her rabbit ears, and mocked her cries of pain and pleas to be released. Such behavior is unbecoming of any Huntsman, let alone one who would dare wrap himself in the trappings of knighthood."
Arc began to pace back and forth as he continued to list the misdeeds of Cardin Winchester. "In the days before initiation, Cardin spoke to me of Miss Nora Valkyrie, speaking lewdly of her in such terms of crude vulgarity that I dare not repeat such language here. No doubt he continues to 'assess' the young women of Beacon in similar base fashion. On a personal level, Cardin Winchester did mock the unjust murder of my family, an attack that left me orphaned at infancy." He stopped pacing and pointed an accusing finger at Cardin. "Cardin Winchester, I denounce you. You are a cad, a clod, and a coward, a bigot, and a villain of the lowest sort. You are less a man and more some unfortunate atavistic throwback to a more degenerate state of the human race. You are a gruesome inbred troglodyte that has learned to hold itself upright in a caricature of a human being, so as to inflict itself upon the rest of us. Meet my challenge in open combat, Cardin Winchester, or begone from my sight, lest you further beclown the name of the House of Winchester."
Silence fell upon the cafeteria, before Ozpin spoke up. "Mister Winchester, your response?"
Cardin, who had barely understood half of the words that Jaune had used to insult him, struggled to formulate a rebuttal. "...Fuck you, Arc, let's do this."
Ozpin sniffed. "Very well. The both of you will report to the combat arena in…" he checked his watch. "Two hours? That should be enough time to get the snacks ready. Yes, report to the combat arena in two hours time, in your standard combat gear. There is to be no violence on the part of any of the parties involved until such time as I begin the formal bout. Am I understood?"
"As you say, Headmaster," Jaune nodded. He turned on his heel and returned to his friends' table. He returned his book to his satchel and sat down to finish his meal before feeling the weight of his friends staring at him. "...What?" he asked.
"Dude," Yang began. "Did you just call him a piece of shit in Fancy Pants-ese?"
Ren clapped a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "Thank you for speaking up on Nora's behalf." He gestured over to where Nora looked like she was going to cry out of happiness. "It means a lot to her for someone to think her worth fighting for," he added.
Blake stared openly at him, unsure what to make of one who had cut through the White Fang on the orders of the Atlesians, but who still made such a grand show of denouncing fellow humans who mistreated the Faunus.
"Are none of us going to ask about how he learned how to talk funny?" asked Ruby, looking to her friends for confirmation.
Weiss clung to Jaune's arm, her eyes half lidded in dreamy admiration. "He speaks properly and eloquently," she retorted. "Oh Jaune, you were so gallant back there."
Yang snorted in annoyance as they could all practically see the hearts materializing over the head of the smitten heiress.
"Well, speechcraft is an important skill for knights to hone," Jaune explained. "I may be called upon to rally flagging morale, persuade powerful individuals to lend aid to a righteous cause, or, as you've seen, to call out someone who needs to be put in their place. As such, I do a great deal of reading." He quickly finished the rest of his meal, then took out the last of the smoked venison bits to feed to his pup.
"As much as I'm looking forward to watching you smash Winchester into a greasy spot," Pyrrha began, "This does pose a problem for you."
"What do you mean?" Jaune asked.
"Jaune. You still don't have any pants."
[/]
Twenty minutes later, the entire gang was gathered in the Team JNPR dorm room.
"No, Jaune," Weiss told her boyfriend. "You cannot wear the remains of your old pants!"
"Why not?" he asked, confused.
"Because at this point, it's more a banana hammock than real pants," Nora interjected.
"Banana?" Jaune was mystified.
Yang smirked. "She means your designated squishy bits. The Happy Place. Your meat cudgel. Your -"
"Yang, please!" interrupted Weiss.
Ren pulled out a pair of denim jeans from his dresser. "Here, try these on," he suggested. "They never fit me properly. Blue was never my color anyway."
"Ah, thank you," Jaune nodded his thanks, then began pulling down his uniform pants, to the assorted shrieks of Team RWBY.
"...What?"
Weiss flushed brightly. "Jaune, you...you can't just pull down your pants like that!"
He scratched his head. "Why not?"
"Because, you dolt, everyone will see your...your…"
"Your ceremonial meat stick!" Yang helpfully added.
" I'm not dignifying that, Yang. As such, you simply cannot disrobe in front of these women like that."
"But I change in front of Nora and Pyrrha all the time!" protested Jaune.
Weiss turned a frosty gaze onto the girls in question, who tried very hard not to look guilty. "Oh, is that so?"
"It is," Jaune answered, oblivious to the dynamics once more. "It's no big deal."
"...Well, you could show us, and we could tell if it's a big deal…" Ruby shyly offered. "A big...yummy deal…"
"Ruby!" Yang smacked her little sister upside the head. "Don't be lewd!"
Ruby's expression was deadpan."Really, Yang?"
"I still don't get it, but I guess I could change in the bathroom if it makes you more comfortable, Weiss," Jaune said.
"Hey, Sir Rusty, you do know where babies come from, right?" Yang asked, making Weiss stumble over her words of thanks to Jaune.
"Of course I do," Jaune answered. "Weiss's sister showed me everything I needed to know when I was twelve years old."
"Wait, what?!" Weiss blurted, as Jaune took the jeans into the bathroom.
Yang smirked like Dustmas come early. "This is the best...day...ever…"
Jaune began telling the story from the bathroom as he changed his pants.
[/]
Then
Someone, thought Winter Schnee, is going to die for this.
Some smartass, in their infinite wisdom, had thought that it would be appropriate for her to give "The Talk" to a twelve year old boy. It turns out that basic sexual education had fallen through the cracks at the Vanguard Project such as that, upon seeing the activation of the android, Penny Polendina, Jaune had innocently asked if all people were created in such fashion.
So it was that an increasingly red-faced Winter Schnee had had to explain to Jaune what went where, and how babies were made, and that was it. He could figure out the rest the same way that adolescent boys had throughout history - via dirty magazines and lotion.
"So…" he finally asked. "Are you going to train me in sex, ma'am?"
"What?!"
He spread his hands in supplication. "Well, you would not bother telling me this if I were not expected to carry out such actions in future. Attempting a mission without training for it is a sure recipe for failure, so given that you are a woman, I would assume that you would be training me."
"Absolutely not!" Winter's eyes bulged. Oh yes, someone was going to pay for this humiliation.
Jaune tilted his head quizzically. "Why not?"
Winter's hands gesticulated in her outrage. "Because! You are a child, and I am an adult! It would be monstrously wrong!"
The cadet went into thought again. Good. Maybe he would realize that he would do well to simply shut up and never bring up this conversation ever again.
"Well, can I train with your sister?" he asked, his expression innocent and guileless.
Winter made a strangling sound. "No! You are not to...to engage in those relations with my baby sister!"
"Why not? She's my age, and she seems nice. She's pretty as well."
The Specialist wanted to bang her head on a wall. What made it even worse was that Weiss had begun circumspectly asking questions about boys in general, and Cadet Jaune Arc in particular. Where was her mother, she should be the one having those talks with her! Oh right, their mother was on a years long drinking binge out of regret for having spread her legs for the absolute wrong man!
Jaune didn't know why, exactly, Winter was growling and muttering to herself, but he decided that it would be best to wait until she was ready to answer.
"You are not to engage in sexual relations with my sister," Winter finally said, pointing at him. "Consider that a standing order."
[/]
Now
"So, as I said, Specialist Winter Schnee oversaw my sexual education." Jaune had emerged from the restroom as he finished his story. Ren's old denim jeans were a bit snug and too short, but Jaune's boots were still in good condition, and were high enough on the shins as to avoid causing any problems.
Yang, for her part, was in serious danger of hyperventilating, while Weiss was trying to come to terms with the fact that Jaune had basically asked to sleep with both her and her sister at the tender age of twelve.
"Well...that was then," Pyrrha began, awkwardly. "Given that you're no longer a cadet, does this not mean that you would be free to engage in such relations, should the two of you decide to do so?"
Jaune shrugged. "I would like to, of course, but I don't think that either of us are ready to become parents just yet. I was hoping to bring it up after graduation and I started restoring my family's holdings. I think she would make a wonderful mother someday, but I doubt she'd want to start a family before she's made her mark on the world." He smiled warmly at Weiss, who was gaping like a fish at him.
The room grew very quiet.
"Jaune, you do know that you can use protection, right?" Blake asked.
He looked puzzled. "What does armor have to do with anything?"
The silence descended once more, oppressive in its totality.
"Yeah, that sounds like a girlfriend problem," Yang finally said, slapping Weiss on the back. "Just put a sock on the door if you need some...tutoring time with him."
Weiss, for her part, was speechless. Partially out of shock at how lacking his world experience was - she would have to abandon her stance as a demure lady and make the first move if she wanted him to...satisfy the urges that she'd been feeling for him - but also because he had been dreaming of an entire life with her. As embarrassing as it was, his simple, stark sincerity caused butterflies to flutter in her chest.
Pyrrha shook her head and stood up, walking over to the closet that she shared with Jaune. Given that he only had a single school uniform, an armor stand, and the scraps of hide that had once been clothing, Pyrrha took up most of the space with her own clothes. "Well, as...traumatizing as this conversation has been, I believe I have a shirt that would work for you, Jaune. It was always a bit large on me, so it should fit well." With a dramatic flourish, she pulled out a black, hooded sweatshirt, which bore the Pumpkin Pete's rabbit logo on the chest.
Ruby started snickering. "Is that Pump-"
"We do not speak his name here," Pyrrha interrupted, her eyes intense and wild.
"Okay!" squeaked the little reaper, in both agreement and terror.
"I'm so glad you see it my way," Pyrrha smiled, gentle once more. "It's fitting that it has a rabbit insignia, as you'll be defending the honor of that rabbit Faunus girl today," she told Jaune. He donned the sweatshirt.
"Well, how do I look?" he asked his friends.
"You look...normal," Blake said, surprised.
Nora nodded in agreement. "Yeah, way more friend-shaped, and less 'psycho in the woods.'"
Ren nudged her with his elbow.
"What?"
"Don't be rude, Nora."
Weiss put a finger to her lips as she contemplated her boyfriend's new look. "Hmm...It's still missing something." She smiled as an idea came to her. "Stay here. I'll be right back." The heiress darted out of the room, returning a moment later with a red scarf in her arms.
Jaune frowned. "Weiss, didn't your grandmother give you that scarf before she passed?"
"She did," Weiss confirmed. She looped it around Jaune's waist to form a sash, then hooked his crossed belts over it.
"You love that scarf," Jaune protested.
She smiled up at him before popping up on her toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips. "And I love you. Consider it a lady's favor to her brave and handsome knight. Plus, it'll match with your partner."
Jaune then set about putting on the cuirass, pauldron, vambraces and gauntlets, pushing the sleeves of the sweatshirt up past his elbows to ensure that the thick, durable cloth didn't catch on any of the points of articulation. He clipped Crocea Mors to his left hip, Ascalon to his right.
"Wow...that really works for you," Ruby said, giving him a thumbs-up.
Ren nodded. "I concur. You can keep the pants."
"And the shirt as well," Pyrrha added.
Jaune smiled at his friends. "Thank you. All of you." After a thought, he added "I'm sure the deer thank you as well."
"Did...did he just tell a joke?" asked Nora.
"He's learning," Yang snerked. "Soon, he shall join me on the Pun Side, and my dominion shall be complete!"
A knock on the door interrupted the conversation. Jaune, being the closest, opted to answer it. He opened the door to find a group of four students gathered in front of him. One was the Faunus bunny girl from earlier, who had a very tall man standing protectively behind her, while another, a dark-skinned young man whose milky eyes indicated a physical blindness, drew back in shock.
"Holy crap, that Aura!" he cried.
"Hello," Jaune said politely. "How may I help you?"
"Is this him?" the girl in the lead of the group, who wore dark sunglasses, asked the rabbit girl.
"Mmhmm," the Faunus girl piped up.
The lead girl looked Jaune up and down. "Well, I can certainly see where our little Bun-Bun got the crush from."
"Coco!"
The girl - Coco, apparently - offered a hand to Jaune. "My name is Coco Adele, leader of Team CFVY. Velvet here says that you did her a good turn in the cafeteria today. Thank you for sticking up for her."
Jaune took the offered hand. "Jaune Arc, leader of Team JNPR. And please, I need no thanks for doing the right thing."
"Yeah, well, plenty of other people were there and didn't do a damn thing. You did. That counts for something in my book. You ever need a friend out there, say the word, and Team CFVY will come running."
Jaune smiled. "I never knew my mother, but she wrote once that strangers are just friends that you haven't met yet."
Coco let her sunglasses slide down to the end of her nose as she regarded him with deep, dark brown eyes. "...You're the real thing, aren't you?" she asked.
Jaune canted his head. "Miss?"
"Never mind," she waved away the sentiment. "Anyways, you'd better bet that we're getting front-row seats to the free ass-whuppin' show, so feel free to kick six different colors of shit out of that scum-sucking ratfucking -"
"Coco!" Velvet interrupted, mortified. "You're talking to a knight!"
"Oh, I haven't been knighted, at least not yet," Jaune said. "I hope to be worthy of the honor someday."
Coco arched an eyebrow. "Besides, aren't you the one who was boasting that you never lost a fight to, and I quote 'man nor fucking beast?'"
"It isn't a boast if it's true," Jaune said mildly.
The brunette laughed sharply, the sound echoing through the dormroom. "Well, better keep that streak alive, Sir Tightpants. We'll be going now. Say goodbye to the handsome knight, Bun-Bun!"
"Bye, Jaune," Velvet said, her tone soft and shy. "Thank you again." Without warning, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Good luck!"
With a burning blush, Velvet practically ran down the hallway, her laughing teammates following her. Jaune turned around to see a very put-out Weiss crossing her arms and huffing.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Am I going to have to tattoo 'Exclusive Property of Weiss Schnee' onto your forehead for these girls to understand that you're mine?"
"I'd really rather you not." Jaune waved off her concern. "It was just a harmless kiss on the cheek, not a romantic gesture," he said. "Really, no different than if Ruby kissed my cheek."
Ruby brightened. "I can kiss Jaune?"
"No." Weiss glared.
"Aww."
Weiss grabbed onto Jaune's arm. "Just...don't forget me, okay?"
"Forget you?" Jaune looked down at her, setting her at ease with a warm smile. "You're everything to me."
[/]
The seating at the combat arena was at capacity, as plenty of students were interested in watching the man who had defeated Pyrrha Nikos take on another fighter. Others, especially Faunus students, wanted to see Cardin Winchester get his just deserts, as he had won few friends during his brief time at Beacon, due to his poor attitude and flagrant bigotry. Then there were those students from Vale, who came to see the spectacle of a Challenge of the Peerage, a Valean cultural institution that hadn't been invoked in generations.
At a high table by the side of the combat ring, Headmaster Ozpin was seated in the center, flanked to either side by Doctor Oobleck and Professor Port, who would be serving as judges for the bout. Deputy Headmistress Goodwitch stood in the center of the ring, where she would serve as the on-site referee to ensure that the match remained clean and non-lethal. The two contestants stood side-by-side in front of the table. While Cardin threw dirty looks at Arc, Jaune remained calm, his gaze focused on the group ahead of them.
True to his words in the cafeteria, Ozpin had a large bowl of popcorn before him.
"Students of Beacon," Ozpin announced. "We are called here today to bear witness to a duel of honor between two of our own, in accordance to the laws of the Kingdom of Vale. The judges will now inspect the contestants' arms, to ensure that there is neither sabotage nor foul play at work here. First, the challenger: Jaune Arc, present your arms."
Jaune stepped forward, unclipping Crocea Mors from his belt, scabbard and all, and handing it up to Ozpin. "Crocea Mors," he said loudly, for the benefit of the audience. "The Yellow Death. An ancient blade of hallowed antiquity, first carried by King Charles d'Arc le Magne, founder of my line, and carried by every Arc since. It bears the weight of history, having seen centuries of service in defense of the people of Remnant."
Oobleck nodded in appreciation of the fine state to which Jaune and Ruby had restored the weapon, while Port hid a smile at the familiar Arc crest on the shield, which spread out as it expanded.
Jaune then handed up his spear. "Ascalon, spear of the mighty Sir Georges d'Arc. Dragonslayer."
If the crowd had been set to talking with the revelation of Jaune's royal heritage, the notion of a weapon that had killed a dragon caused it to intensify, even moreso when the senior students in the crowd confirmed both the fact that Grimm dragons existed and that a famous ancestor of Jaune's had killed one.
Port audibly gasped as he expanded the weapon and saw the magnificent metalwork displayed by it. He handed it off to Oobleck, whose hands trembled at handling such a significant relic of Vale's past. When the judges were satisfied that both weapons were in fine shape and bore no poisons upon them, they handed them to Ozpin who returned them to Jaune. He accepted them with a nod of the head, then stepped backwards to stand next to Cardin.
"And next, the challenged: Cardin Winchester, present your arms," announced Ozpin.
Cardin stepped up and handed up his weapon. "The Executioner," he said. There was no line of wielders to name, nor famous deeds performed by that weapon. It was, to be quite frank, an ugly and ungainly thing, an overly-top heavy and spiked mass of blackened steel that passed itself off as a flanged mace, with an oversized hunk of fire Dust in the head.
When the judges were satisfied with Cardin's weapon, they handed it back to him. Glynda Goodwitch then directed each boy to a side of the arena, behind a line drawn on each respective side. "The fight will continue until a combatant's Aura drops into the red, a combatant yields, or a combatant is incapacitated. There is no ring-out, but I would ask that you refrain from carrying your duel out of the bounds of the ring. Mister Arc, please try hard to avoid destroying my arena. Again."
"No worries, ma'am. This buffon is not fit to lick Pyrrha Nikos's boots. He will provide no challenge today, merely sport."
She shook her head. "And, as should go without saying, there will be no lethal strikes in the course of this duel. Should an opponent's Aura drop into the red, the combat will cease, immediately. Do you both understand?"
"As you say, ma'am."
"Get on with it already!"
Goodwitch just sighed. "Very well. Ready...and...fight!"
She stepped back as the duel began. Cardin charged forward, his heavy steps thudding on the stone floor of the arena as he rushed his opponent. He had his mace drawn back, ready to execute a devastating overhand blow at the first opportunity.
Jaune casually strode forward, his weapons still at his side, hands low, as unconcerned as if he were ordering dinner at the cafeteria.
Cardin grunted as he sent The Executioner hurtling towards Jaune's head. Jaune, for his part, remained unconcerned. A combination wristlock and hip-throw later, and Jaune was the slightly revulsed new owner of a greasy and sweat-slicked hunk of blackened steel, while Cardin was on his back in the center of the arena, disarmed and confused as to what just happened.
What was it that Nora always shouted in situations like this?
"Five!" Jaune shouted as he swung the mace into Cardin's side. With his own fire Dust, Cardin was sent rocketing across the arena, skidding twice before coming to a stop.
"No, it's supposed to be 'Fore!'" Jaune heard the distinctive voice of Nora call from the stands.
"Sorry, Nora!"
"It's okay, Fearless Leader! We'll get 'em next time!"
Jaune waited politely for Cardin to regain his footing, before tossing the mace onto the ground halfway between them. Winchester eyed him suspiciously, even as Jaune made a show of crossing his arms and tapping his foot impatiently. As he neared The Executioner, Cardin darted towards it, expecting Jaune to have pulled some sort of trick.
For his part, Jaune just stood there, waiting. Building up confidence, Cardin began his charge once again, this time opting for a sidelong bash. Arc stepped forward, grabbing him by the arms, then rolled onto his back, using his legs to launch Cardin high into the air. Cardin hit the floor with a great crash of armor, scrambling to get to his feet. He reared back to ready another blow, but then looked at his cocked hand to realize that Arc had somehow disarmed him, again.
As he struggled to come to terms with that, Arc whistled sharply from across the arena. Cardin looked up just in time to see The Executioner clank onto the ground, halfway between the two men. Cardin growled, snatching up his mace once more. "What is this?" he spat at Jaune.
"Well, it was meant to be a duel, but at this point, it's just rather sad."
"Draw your stupid sword already!"
Jaune cocked his head curiously. "What in the world makes you think that you're worthy of my family's ancestral steel? In an honorable duel, it is reserved for true warriors, such as Pyrrha."
Despite his performance thus far, Cardin wasn't a stupid fighter. His style was just based on one strength and one strength alone - the use of overwhelming force in the attack. It sufficed well enough in beating back large numbers of mindless lesser Grimm, but against an elite combatant like Jaune fucking Arc, that one tactic was failing hideously.
Still. He was pissed. Cardin was getting absolutely humiliated by his opponent, who hadn't even deigned to draw his weapon! Losing his temper, Cardin rushed forward in one more, desperate assault.
Jaune stepped in to check his momentum with his arm, sidestepping and sweeping one of Cardin's legs off the ground. With the same foot that he'd used to sweep, Jaune chambered the leg and stomped onto the side of Cardin's knee, blasting his support out from under him.
In the stands, Weiss recognized one of the signature takedowns of the White Crane Immortal style of unarmed fighting, Winter's favored style.
In the arena, Jaune had taken Cardin's weapon, again, as the other man had gone crashing to the ground. Arc waited until Cardin's gaze had focused on the weapon once more.
"Fore!"
The last thing that Cardin saw before the darkness claimed him was the fire Dust trigger, as his own weapon bashed him in the side of the head.
[/]
Oh, right. 'The Winchester Incident.' No, I regret nothing of how I handled that. Winchester had a chance to realize that he needed to change, just as I had been given. Sometimes, moral lessons need to be applied via blunt force to the head.
Sir Jaune d'Arc the Preserver, Champion of Vale, upon being questioned about his first documented honor duel.
[/]
Glynda shook her head as she watched the unconscious, smoking body of Cardin Winchester skid to a stop in the center of the arena. She'd have a lot of work to do getting that one up to par. "The winner of the duel is Jaune, of the House of Arc!" she declared, unnecessarily. Anyone with working eyes could tell who won that fight. Actually, given the presence of Fox Alistair in the audience, even the blind could tell who won that fight.
Jaune made a face as he tried to wipe Cardin's sweat off of the handle of the mace. "I trust you know the special conditions of a Challenge of the Peerage?" Jaune asked her.
"Bart made me aware, yes, and Ozpin has agreed to enforce it."
"Good!" Jaune said, in good cheer. "Then have it delivered to my dorm room after he's arrived at the infirmary."
Glynda sighed. "Was it truly necessary to humiliate him, Mister Arc?"
"I'm afraid so. Perhaps this will serve as the galvanizing slap that will set him on a better path."
She looked at him.
"No one died!" he protested, a little defensively. "Even your arena is fine!"
[/]
Cardin Winchester came to roughly an hour after being sent there via mace to the head. "Ugh." His head was killing him. Blearily, he looked around, only to realize that no one - not even his team - had bothered staying at his bedside.
"Ah, Mister Winchester. You've awoken."
Cardin fought back the dizziness as he struggled to sit up.
"Easy there," Ozpin said. "The doctor said that it may take a bit for your Aura to mitigate your concussion."
"I lost…" Cardin mumbled.
"In spectacular fashion, no less," Ozpin cheerfully informed his student.
Cardin glared at the Headmaster. Ozpin sipped from his cup.
"At any rate, I'm here to suggest that you come to terms with Mister Arc over the weekend, before combat class next week. You'll be scheduled for remedial combat tutoring with Miss Goodwitch following that...less than stellar performance we witnessed today."
Whelp. He'd been insulted with fancy words, humiliated, got his ass kicked with his own weapon, and Arc had managed to get him more goddamn schoolwork. This day couldn't get any worse.
"Wait, come to terms?" he asked the Headmaster. "What do you mean?"
Ozpin tsked in disapproval. "Now, Mister Winchester, I'm sure you were not so foolish as to accept a Challenge of the Peerage without understanding the conditions? While it is a very old law, it is still in effect here in the Kingdom of Vale, and they truly are simple to understand." Ozpin smiled blandly as he handed a sheet of paper to Cardin.
"What is this?"
[/]
Jaune was enjoying a celebratory dinner with his friends.
"And then!" Nora gushed, her eyes wide and grin gleeful. "He was all like 'five!' And he bashed him all the way across the ring!"
"We were there, Nora," Pyrrha reminded her, chuckling.
Ruby slurped her noodles. "We're gonna be giggling about that for years, Jaune."
He smiled ruefully. "Well, you know -"
The meal was interrupted by a loud banging on the dorm room door.
"I'll get it." Jaune stood and opened the door, revealing a furious Cardin Winchester, a massive knot adorning his forehead, standing in the hallway bareassed in his hospital gown.
"Ah, Cardin. You're awake," Jaune said blandly. "Have you come to apologize for your conduct?"
"The fuck is this?!" Cardin shoved the paper towards Jaune.
Arc sighed. "It would be a bit much to hope for, I suppose. At any rate those," he said, indicating the paper, "are the terms of ransom for your weapons and armor. My girlfriend can put the Dust to better use, so I gave it to her. You're a cretin, so you probably don't know this, but ladies enjoy being given gifts, especially trophies of their knight's victories. It's my understanding that she's going to save a few fragments to make new earrings."
"You can't...you can't fucking charge me for my own shit!"
"Yes, I can. I absolutely can. Those are the conditions of the Challenge of the Peerage, under the laws of the Kingdom of Vale, laws to which you agreed to obey by accepting my challenge. To the victor go the spoils. Now, I'm only demanding fair market price -"
"Eat shit and die, Arc."
"...Fair market price," Jaune continued. "So, you can either pay me the sum listed therein, or else in one week's time, I will do whatever I wish with your mace and armor. It's my understanding that there are weapons available for loan from the Academy, and given how unwieldy and unbalanced your mace is, you may actually be better off with one of those instead."
Cardin growled. "This isn't over, Arc!"
Jaune scoffed. "What, are you going to challenge me? You have nothing of value, and I have already punished you for your misconduct, so why should I bother answering the bleating challenge of a lesser?"
Winchester's eyes went wide at that. "You'll pay for this, Arc!"
"No, you'll pay for this. In standard lien, please. And do be quick about it, as I have plans to put that money to better use. Now, please do me a favor and begone. You've not showered, and your filthy, malodorous presence is putting my friends off of their meal."
Over that weekend, Cardin hemmed, and hawed, and bitched mightily. He tried to appeal to the school for his gear back, only to be denied. He tried going to his father to get the Council to make Arc give his gear back, only to be given a backhand - both rhetorically and physically - by his father, who had witnessed the humiliation of his family name as it was streamed by the student body at Beacon. In the end, he had to cave and pay Jaune the amount that he had demanded.
One morning, a few days after Cardin had paid up, Blake witnessed Jaune leave Beacon on his own. While she hated the stereotypes, she had always been the curious sort of cat, and surreptitiously followed him into the city of Vale. What was he up to?
That curiosity only intensified as he met with someone at the docks. Following an exchange of lien, a team of workers began unloading cargo from a ship. Whatever it was, the boxes themselves were unmarked and anonymous. Jaune made to inspect some of the boxes himself. What could they be moving in there? Weapons? Drugs? Blake just knew that all that knightly nonsense was just a cover. No one would ever suspect such a figure of smuggling illicit goods. She sighed to herself. Weiss was going to be so disappointed.
His inspection completed to his satisfaction, he stepped back and shook the head figure's hand. As he left, the first group of teamsters began loading up the boxes into a truck and drove further into the city. Blake followed from a distance.
Her amber eyes narrowed as the truck entered the designated Faunus district. What, was this some sort of Atlesian plot to weaken Vale's Faunus population by distributing addictive drugs to them? It must be, or even worse, as the truck pulled into a soup kitchen that fed poor residents. Blake swooped in on Gambol Shroud, preparing to strike the poison from the teamster's hands as they opened the boxes to reveal…
Carrots?
Heads of lettuce?
Fresh bottles of milk, and bags of oranges?
Unnoticed by either the teamsters or the Faunus woman running the soup kitchen, Blake skidded away from the teamsters and crashed into a wall, bouncing painfully off the side of another building. She shook her head to clear it and then peered again as the teamsters began bringing more produce into the soup kitchen.
"And the donor wished to remain anonymous?" the woman, a middle-aged ram Faunus with curling horns asked.
The teamster shrugged. "That's what he told the boss, anyway. Weird thing is, it was just some kid, too."
"Well, we certainly aren't going to slap away a helping hand in times such as these."
Stunned, Blake slipped away and spied a second truck, headed for an orphanage. She watched as overwhelmed caretakers tried to keep order as the children began pulling assorted toys from the boxes.
She felt numb as she returned to Beacon. Sure enough at lunch that day, Jaune was just sitting there like normal, reading his father's book as Weiss hummed happily next to him. Why hadn't he said anything, to anyone? What even was he, anyway?
"Jaune," she finally blurted out.
He looked up from his book. "Hello, Blake. Something on your mind?"
She struggled for a moment to figure out what to say. "I saw what you did today."
"Hmm?" Weiss looked up at her. "What's this about?"
"Jaune went on a trip to Vale this morning. I followed him."
"Oh," Jaune said, sounding mildly embarrassed. "You saw that, did you?"
"What are you talking about?" Nora asked, now interested in the conversation.
"Jaune here somehow forked up enough money to send a truckload of produce to a soup kitchen and boxes of toys to an orphanage, both of which were in the Faunus district. How did you even get the money for that, anyway?"
Jaune scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "Well, Huntsman gear costs a lot of money, so after Cardin paid what he owed, I figured that it would only be fitting if it went to help out the Faunus in the city. He's a bigot and I need to make amends. It's not enough, not nearly enough, but it's a start."
Blake just stared at him. "Then why the anonymity, Jaune? I almost stabbed one of the workers because I thought you were in a nefarious plot to push drugs on Faunus!"
Jaune blinked, startled.
"Jeez, Blake, that's a little harsh, don't you think?" Ruby asked.
"I didn't tell anyone because I don't need recognition, either from my friend group, or from Vale as a whole. The true knight doesn't do good to look good, they do good for its own sake. Also, please refrain from stabbing people unless they really need to be stabbed."
"Jaune, you didn't even have enough money to buy clothes, and you just gave away your earnings to people you don't know, who won't even know that it was you who did it for them?"
"Well, yes," he said, confused. "Besides, my friends gave me new clothes, and I love them."
"Your friends or the clothes?"
"Yes."
"D'awww." Yang stood up and pulled Jaune into a headlock, giving him a noogie. "You're a big 'ol softie!"
Weiss, for her part, was contemplating marriage plans. Would she keep the name Schnee, take the name Arc, or try to combine it? Schnee-Arc was right out, and Arc-Schnee just sounded like an electronics company. Before, in Atlas, she had idly daydreamed about making Jaune the next Mister Schnee. Unlike his predecessor, Jaune Schnee would be utterly devoted to her and uninterested in the wider running of her family's company. He could run their security division and protect their children while she set the course for her family's future. Now, though, he had a family legacy of his own to uphold, and it was wonderful.
Weiss also called dibs on the name "Whisper" for a daughter. If Winter didn't like it, then she could hurry up and finally settle down with someone of her own! Her first daughter with Jaune would be Whisper Schnee, but what about boy's names? Something Valean, to honor the father's line? Armand Arc? Francois Arc? Jacques was out, the bastard, but what about Arthur…
The heiress daydreamed happily as her knight in shining armor struggled with Yang's headlock.
[/]
Chapter Endnotes: When I had the idea of turning Pyrrha's "I'm sorry!" quirk into something heartbreaking, I hit on the notion of making her feel apologetic for her own existence. Poor Pyrrha. She needs a cookie.
Going forward, the next few chapters will all have at least one of Jaune's first-person thoughts on his friends, possibly more.
If someone ever truly annoys you, call them a gruesome inbred troglodyte. It's awesome.
Theatricality is just as much a weapon in the knight's arsenal as their lance.
Ransoming was absolutely a thing that historical knights did. While a loss of their arms, armor, and especially horse could be career ending for a hedge knight of few means, by the same token, they could make a great deal of money by kicking the snot out of less-talented but wealthier knights in tourneys. Sir William the Marshal, the template for Jaune's father Guillaume in my fanfics, and a strong competitor for the greatest (historically-documented) knight of all time actually made his fortune that way.
A reviewer actually noted Jaune's sexual innocence in the comments before I could get this chapter out. Part of it is a nod to Sir Galahad of Arthurian legend, son of Sir Lancelot and the knight who was said to have found the Holy Grail. Sir Galahad was famously chaste and virginal, except for in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail." ("Let me go back in there and face the peril!" "No, it's too perilous!") I also found it hilarious to imagine Winter awkwardly having a very abbreviated version of The Talk with a twelve-year old who innocently propositioned her, and Weiss having to realize that, if she wanted things to happen, she was going to have to get the ball rolling herself.
I don't think you know just how much willpower it takes to refrain from deluging this fic with Monty Python references.
If you enjoy this story, there are some others similar to it. "The House of d'Arc," by snakeboy33 ramps up the royalty aspect of the theme, while "On a Broken Throne," by in the eyes of the beholder, drops the noble lineage bomb towards the end of current canon. Both are works-in-progress and can be found on the favorites list of my profile. There's also the famous "A Knight of Lancaster or Something" by College Fool, and if I may toot my own horn, I have a one-shot titled "The Knight's Code," which was my first attempt at writing action. Actually, you should read everything on my favorites list, as I have good taste, and all of my works, on the grounds that I am awesome.
And humble too!
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!
-Mahina
