Author's Note: An anonymous commenter discussed the tone in this story, saying that it moves about, like a pinball, from the dark times to the light, from angst and atrocity to love and comedic banter, and back again. Well, from a meta perspective, not only would this story be an awful slog to read if it were merely an unending litany of horrors, but writing such dark scenes puts me, the author, into a very dark headspace as well.
But on a more fundamental level...that's life.
You have your bad times and your good. If you're lucky, you'll have more of the latter than the former. If you're wise, you'll cherish the latter, understanding that the former will, ultimately, someday, come again. And when the bad times come, you'll endure, because nothing lasts forever, and one day, the dawn will break once more.
So yes, the characters in this story laugh, banter, bicker, love one another desperately, suffer doubt, grief, guilt and anguish, as well as hope, joy, and triumph. Why? Because it gives me artistic gratification to take these figures of my idle daydreams and breathe life into them, as best as I'm able.
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Weiss struggled not to wince as Beacon's armorer got to work extricating her Jaune from his mangled cuirass. They had all seen the sort of punishment that it, and Jaune, had endured, and frankly, it frightened her. Not to mention that she knew how much discovering his family's legacy had meant to Jaune, and a part of said legacy had been reduced to so much crumpled scrap that the armorer was cutting away from him with a plasma torch.
After waiting for the cuts to cool down, the armorer carefully separated the segments of Jaune's cuirass and pulled them off of him. The trauma doctor at Beacon's infirmary tried to pull the Pumpkin Pete hooded sweatshirt over his head, but Jaune was scarcely able to raise his arms, and the doctor ended up simply cutting it off of him as well.
She tried not to sigh. That had been a gift from his partner. Then she saw the hideous mass of bruised tissue that discolored his torso, and she had to try not to burst into tears.
For as long as she'd known him, Weiss had thought of Jaune as invincible. And why shouldn't she? When they'd first met, he'd single-handedly torn through an elder Grimm, at the tender age of twelve. Through it all, he'd never once suffered more than some minor scuffs, even in the worst fights.
"Wow, your Aura healed your ribs that quick?" The doctor asked Jaune.
"That's correct," he confirmed. "It's my Semblance."
The doctor wrenched his lips in a grimace. "Well, hate to break it to you, kid, but some of these ribs set wrong. I'm going to have to re-break them to set them properly."
Jaune nodded, seemingly unphased at the notion of more pain. "Do what you must, doctor."
"Sure."
Weiss took his hand, squeezing it when the doctor began resetting his broken ribs. Jaune remained stoic during the procedure, almost inhumanly so, focused as he was on suppressing his Aura to let the doctor do his work. In a way, Weiss began to understand where he had been coming from when he had seen her face battered and bruised. Someone had gone and hurt her Jaune, and in so doing, skyrocketed right to the top of Weiss Schnee's shitlist.
Finally - mercifully - the doctor finished the resettings, and wrapped bandages around Jaune's torso. "Now, you're not to do anything strenuous for the next few days, understood?"
Jaune grunted in agreement.
"Yuh-huh," the doctor deadpanned. "I'm serious. No showing off for your little girlfriend here. If I had a lien for everytime some dumb boy came back here two days after being released because he pulled some damn fool stunt…" he began to mutter.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure that he takes his recovery seriously," Weiss said. "Isn't that right, Jaune?"
Jaune made to sigh melodramatically, only to wince. "Ow," he griped. "It hurts to sigh."
The doctor just threw his hands in the air as he turned to leave. "There we go again! Stupid kids doing stupid kid things…"
As the grumbling physician left the room, Ozpin took his place. He placed his cane on the ground, leaning against it slightly as he observed the rather sorry state of Jaune Arc. "Well," he said finally, "at least you're not too seriously hurt."
"How can you say that?!" Weiss snapped, before realizing who she was snapping at.
Ozpin chuckled. "I see the tables have turned quite quickly, Miss Schnee. No, as painful as the broken ribs are, they won't be debilitating for too long, and Mister Arc will make a full recovery soon. Not everyone on that mission can say the same," he finished, his tone turning somber.
"Shiro," Jaune mumbled. "I am sorry, sir. I was unable to protect him, nor was I able to bring his killers in, alive or dead. The mission was a failure."
"The loss of Mister Wan was unfortunate, as was the escape of the killers. However, you have confirmed that the situation in Mistral is one that requires my closer, direct attention, and for that, you, Qrow, and the late Shiro Wan may have saved more lives than you know. Take heart in that, at least."
"I'll try, sir," Jaune said, his tone glum.
Ozpin followed his gaze to where the sections of his cuirass rested, now only so much scrap. "Well, I see the armor at least did its job and kept you alive," he said, trying to cheer up his young protege once more.
"Generations of my ancestors kept that armor in pristine condition," Jaune said. "It was a memorial to Charles the Great's lost son, Prince Alain, who died in it. I had needed armor, and didn't think twice about taking it and wearing it into battle. Now another bit of the Arc legacy is gone."
Ozpin sighed, letting the part of his gestalt consciousness that was Charles d'Arc le Magne channel his words through him, and then touched Jaune's bare shoulder. "Mister Arc, I hope that you'll believe me when I say that every single Arc who came before you, from your father all the way back to Charles himself, would much rather see the armor destroyed and their descendant safe than the other way around."
Gods knew that that was the truth. Centuries later, and the loss of one of his beloved sons in battle still ate away at Charles. If he'd only been faster, if he'd only got there in time, if he'd sent more men with his son...he never really stopped grieving, a feeling that Ozma knew all too well. At least his younger sons had lived long, full lives, passing in their own time. Alain had been only seventeen when his story had come to such a sudden end.
Still, that was the past, of which no man, not even a wizard, could change. Here and now, there was a young grandson - well, many times removed great-grandson, but a grandson nonetheless - who needed guidance.
"Remember Jaune, that the weapons and armor that you inherited, no matter how cherished, are still only objects. Things. The true legacy of your family lives on in you, in the actions that you take. Do you understand?"
Eventually, Jaune nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Now, if you're feeling up to it, I would like you to report to my office for an after action report."
"Of course, sir. I'll be right there."
Ozpin took his leave, leaving Jaune alone with Weiss. The two eyed each other in awkward remorse.
"Weiss, I -"
"Jaune, I'm -"
The both began to blurt out their apologies at the same time. Weiss giggled. "Please, let me go first," she said. "Jaune, I was so angry about what you said before you left. I was furious. I deliberately ignored my Scroll because I was so angry that I didn't want to talk to you, knowing that I would probably say something absolutely venomous. I didn't even know you were going until you were already gone. I'm so sorry, Jaune. I never would have let you go without seeing you off if I'd known. I'm so sorry."
Jaune reached over to gently wrap his hand around the back of her neck, bringing her face in close to his. They touched foreheads, just enjoying the proximity to one another. "I need to apologize more than you," he said. "What I said then...Miss Nikos and Qrow straightened me out. I never meant to insult you the way that I did, but it was an insult. I was afraid for you, I am afraid for you, and that fear would have me treat you like some kind of precious commodity to be preserved and hidden."
"Lifeless," Weiss observed, to which Jaune agreed.
"I need to understand that only the dead are truly ever fully secure. I would not strangle the life out of your days in order to set my own fears at ease. You are a fighter, a Huntress, and I need to understand that. Qrow, for one, suggested that I try and fall in love with your fight, to see the perseverance and spirit underneath the scrapes and bruises."
Weiss pulled away, making a childishly pouting face. "Oh great. Now my boyfriend is taking advice from Qrow Branwen."
Jaune shrugged. "It seems to work for your sister."
"Oh, ew. Don't even get me started on that. Besides, I thought you wanted to beat him up for hitting me in training?"
"Not anymore. Now I want to beat him up because he's an ass," he replied, his tone beginning to become more upbeat.
"Anyways," Weiss began, her tone shifting to the somber once more, "I can understand you a little better now. I want to find out whoever hurt you and just stab them to death."
"You're going to need a bigger sword," Jaune answered dryly.
"Then I'll just use yours."
"With those skinny little arms? You can barely lift my sword," he teased.
She arched an eyebrow. "Oh, I believe that past experience has demonstrated that I know exactly how to handle your sword, Jaune Arc."
"Is that so?"
Weiss leaned over to kiss his forehead. "Once you recover, I'll make sure to put on quite the convincing exhibition for you."
He blinked. "Wait, I got confused. What were we talking about again?"
She huffed. "You dolt! I was talking about the blisteringly-hot makeup sex we are going to have when you recover!"
"Weiss!"
Her eyes snapped to the doorway, where, to her horror, her older sister stood, with arms crossed over her chest.
"Uh…" Weiss utterly blanked on any sort of excuse. "Jaune?" she asked, trying to find support.
He just shrugged. "Well, I was discreet, just like you asked. It's not my fault you went around declaring your intent."
"Jaune!" she whined.
Winter sighed. "Look, I understand...things are happening with the two of you. But at least promise me that you'll be responsible and use protection."
Jaune had an evil, evil thought. "Well, we did," Jaune sighed melodramatically. "As you can see though, my armor was destroyed."
Weiss caught on to the prank-in-making quickly. Gods, he was quick with the evil plans! "It's true," she added, her tone mournful. "The steel and bronze really did it for me too."
Winter's ice blue eyes were as wide as saucers. Her world crumbled around her as she realized that her half-assed efforts in providing sex education had backfired on her in just the most horrible way. Her poor, precious baby sister had been violated by this boy, and even now, a baby could be growing inside of her baby sister! She was too young to have a baby! Babies couldn't have babies! It'd be some ridiculous Atlesian doll situation, with just successive layers of tiny little Schnees! The girl's future could be ruined by his filthy, filthy man-bits!
Winter saw red, and she grabbed Jaune by the shoulders. "You are not to touch her again, you hear me?!" The ex-soldier's tone was more than a little hysterical. "She has her whole life ahead of her, and I won't see her potential go to waste by you making her a teen mother! Say it!" She shook him, ignoring Weiss's protests. "Say it!"
"Winter!"
She stopped as she realized that Weiss had her hands on her shoulders, pulling him off of the injured youth. "Winter," Weiss repeated, her tone calmer. "It's okay. We know all about safe sex, I promise. And even with the prophylactics, I've been on birth control for a few years now. It helps keep my cycle regular. We're just getting even for your third-rate efforts at teaching us when we were growing up. It's okay, I promise."
Winter gaped like a fish, before her expression went deadpan. "I just got pranked by Jaune Arc," she intoned.
Weiss giggled, while Jaune merely put on his most innocent expression.
"I just got pranked by Jaune Arc. I just got pranked by Jaune Arc." She shook her head, and turned to leave the infirmary. "The world doesn't make sense anymore, and I'm leaving."
The two teens followed behind her as she stalked her way down the corridors towards the elevator to Ozpin's office, a litany of grumbling sounding off the whole way, along the lines of "smart-assed ingrate brats." That Weiss continued to giggle at getting one over on her sister didn't help matters.
Winter continued to stew in silence as they rode the elevator to Ozpin's office.
"Oh, I'm sure we can find you a handsome, respectable young man for you here in Vale," Weiss said, her voice chipper at the notion of annoying Winter.
"Shut it, Weiss."
Weiss was still grinning when the doors opened up and the trio entered Ozpin's office. The man himself had sat down behind his desk, while Qrow stood leaning against the wall behind him. The rest of Teams RWBY and JNPR were waiting for them as well.
"I'm glad you're going to be okay, Jaune," Ruby said.
"Thank you, Ruby. Just glad I made it home."
"So, Mister Arc," began Ozpin. "Why don't you tell us about the mission from your perspective?"
"Yes, sir." Jaune naturally found himself at attention again, only realizing it when he saw Ozpin frown at him. "Um, right," he said, forcing himself to stand casually. "We arrived in Mistral and tracked down Huntsman Shiro Wan, as ordered. After a brief...introduction, we prepared to set out as he accepted a Huntsman contract - to hunt down and eliminate a Nuckelavee that had been spotted in the ruins of a nearby village."
For some reason, Ren and Nora tensed at the mention of that Nuckelavee. "Did you happen to get the name of that village?" Ren asked.
Jaune shook his head. "Afraid not. The Grimm was irrelevant, however. Not far from the city limits proper, Shiro Wan was ambushed by an unknown assailant. Whoever he was, he had express knowledge of who he was and the route he was taking, and used a flash-bang device to disorient the Huntsman. The assailant was armed with a pair of armblades that had automatic firearms built into them. In addition, this assailant was a Faunus, likely a scorpion subtype, as he had a sort of stinger tail that extended from the back of his head. We spoke, briefly. He made mention of a queen - likely this Salem, I presume - and then Shiro recovered and opened fire on him. The two of us would have been able to take him, but for the second attacker."
Ozpin held up a hand, silencing Jaune. "Qrow, if you would load the footage from the gunship's cameras?"
"Caught the last moments of the fight on camera," Qrow said by way of explanation, as he fired up the footage for the team to review. On the screen, they saw an enormous man hurl Jaune through a tree. When Jaune caught himself, a second, smaller man attacked. Qrow paused the footage with the man throwing a flying knee.
"Yes, that's the first attacker," confirmed Jaune. "He was aggressive to the point of possible mental instability, sneering, cackling, and even drooling at times during the fight. He killed Shiro Wan with a poison stinger to the chest."
Ozpin steepled his fingers. "I see."
"I believe I recognize that man," Winter spoke up. She peered at the image on the screen. "The Atlesian Armed Forces has a 'kill-on-sight' order for someone who fits this description. A Scorpion Faunus by the name of Tyrian Callows. Despite being a Faunus, he had no known affiliation with the White Fang. He is wanted for murder...lots of it, including men, women, children, Huntsmen, and even a Specialist."
The teens shared nervous glances at one another with the realization that this was the sort of person that they would have to fight soon.
"And the second attacker?" Ozpin asked, as the footage began to play again, in slow-motion.
"The second attacker was an extremely large and powerful individual. Male, human most likely. He came out of nowhere and beat Shiro severely. He bare-armed blocked Crocea Mors with no difficulty whatsoever. Despite repeated strikes, his Aura never flickered. It didn't even seem to phase him. Then there's his little party trick."
As they watched, they saw the fuzzy image of the large human shove Dust crystals directly into his arms.
"Is he insane?!" blurted Weiss.
"Quite possibly," confirmed Jaune. "In this instance, he direct-injected Gravity Dust into his arms. It amplified his already prodigious physical strength," he narrated as they saw the attacker slam his fists into the ground to make a shockwave, then drag Jaune to the ground.
Qrow sighed. "Yep. That's Hazel all right."
Ozpin pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hazel Rhinehart. He was a former student of mine, until his younger sister, Gretchen, was tragically killed in a training mission. Hazel holds me responsible, and since then, he has sworn himself to Salem's service in exchange for a chance at revenge."
"How does that make sense?" Yang asked. "His little sister gets killed by the Grimm, so he goes and works for their queen?"
"Anger and grief can cause people to do things that they never would have imagined themselves capable of, Miss Xiao Long. If Miss Rose were to perish, and you felt that I could have stopped it, could you truly say that you would not seek retribution?"
"I…"
Ruby tugged on Yang's arm. "Yang. If something does happen to me out there...I don't want it to make you someone else. I know you, and I know how you can get."
Yang sighed. "I can only promise to try, Rubes."
"Hazel's Semblance allows him to ignore pain," Ozpin continued. "At least, physical pain. That is how he is able to function despite direct injections of such quantities of Dust into his bloodstream. Furthermore, his Aura reserves are not only massive, but recharge themselves at an accelerated rate. In all my years teaching Huntsmen, the only other individual in that same league of sheer Aura that I've seen has been Mister Arc."
"So, clash of the titans there," Ren noted.
"Indeed."
On the screen, they saw Jaune - who was looming larger in the frame as the aircraft had moved closer - start to be crushed under the Dust-enhanced grip of the maddened human. Weiss clenched her hand around his arm, forcing herself to remember that Jaune was okay and standing there beside her. The Jaune on-screen triggered his Semblance, setting off the bizarre resonant glow of his spear as it amputated the Faunus's tail. Blake sucked in a breath, despite herself. True, this Faunus had attacked first, and had used his tail to kill someone, but it was still shocking to see.
"I did manage to get him," noted Jaune. "I wasn't sure. Does anyone know what happened with the spear? My sword did the same thing a few seconds later."
"I'm afraid I don't know," Ren answered. "But I could try to find out. Maybe it has something to do with the weapon's construction?"
Ruby hummed as she thought about it. "Our normal weapons channel our Aura to let us do neat things, like make razor wind. You can even see Aura blurs sometimes when we swing them. Maybe it's just as simple as Jaune's overcharged Semblance reflecting that with his sword?"
Jaune made to shrug, but stopped when the motion caused him to flinch. "Well, maybe, but then why didn't the armor do that as well?"
Ren and Ruby looked at each other, then back to Jaune, with Ruby just shrugging.
"Well, whatever occurred, it at least saved your life long enough for Qrow to intervene," Ozpin said, as the footage showed Hazel fleeing under the onslaught of automatic heavy weapons fire.
"So, what does this mean for us?" Blake asked.
Jaune frowned. "It means that this Salem has at least two fighters of unusual lethality in her service. It also means that we need to be prepared to face them, and even kill them if necessary."
"Indeed, Mister Arc." Ozpin sipped his mug. "As you can see, your enemies will not hesitate in their attempts to kill you. You must understand that."
"I could probably take one or the other of them in a fight, but not both at the same time," Jaune admitted. "At least, not on my own. Tyrian is dangerous, but still beatable by conventional means. With Hazel, we will need to deal with his Aura by sidestepping it entirely."
"What do you mean?" asked Pyrrha.
"The simplest way to deal with him would be to take him out before he has the chance to consciously engage his Aura," Jaune explained. "Ruby could shoot him in the back of the head when he isn't aware of her, for instance."
Ruby blanched as she thought of using Crescent Rose to...to just execute someone like that. That hadn't been what she'd designed her for! She was supposed to be used to chop up and blast Grimm in super awesome displays of heroics, not assassinate people before they even knew she was there!
Jaune saw the look on her face and frowned. "Headmaster, the crushing scene, if you would?" Ozpin, realizing what the aspiring knight had in mind, rewound the footage and paused it on the image of Hazel crushing Jaune in his grip. "Do you see that, Ruby?" Jaune pressed on, mercilessly. "We got lucky with that matchup. I'm the only one of us who could have possibly survived that crushing maneuver, and even then, it's got me wounded badly. If anyone else out of us had accompanied Qrow and been ambushed by this Hazel monster, he would have returned with two corpses, not one. Would you be able to live with that, if he killed one of us, with you knowing that you could have stopped him, but didn't?"
Ruby stared at the image on the screen, imagining if it had been Weiss, or Blake, or Ren, or gods forbid, her sister. A tear streamed down her cheek.
"I'm sorry," Jaune said, his tone more gentle. "I know you don't want to hurt anyone. That's a good thing. That's a very, very good thing. But this is war, Ruby. You will need to come to terms with that."
The mood in the office was somber as the other teens took in Jaune's words. Finally, Ozpin broke the silence. "I hope that this underscores the seriousness of the training in which you have all been engaged over this break. Winter tells me that you've been working hard to improve, so I feel that you've earned yourselves a bit of respite before the next semester begins. Take this week off, to reflect and to steel your resolve. Know that I am very proud of each and every one of you."
The students recognized a dismissal when they heard one, and made to leave. "Oh, Mister Arc, one more thing," Ozpin mentioned, causing the lad to stop. "Tomorrow, go to this address and tell them that Ozpin sent you. It isn't strenuous, I promise. Well, at least the first day." He handed Jaune a card that had an address and a spot marked just outside of the walls of Vale itself.
Jaune shrugged. "As you say, sir."
"Good lad. Get some rest. And I'm very glad that you're still with us."
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"Yeah, it's all there. I know what the kid said. He was probably right, too. But I don't care. Shiro's name is clear, understood? Right. Now take that extra cash and use it to get help. Whatever. Bye."
Winter cautiously approached Qrow in his room as he hung up his Scroll. "A loose end?" she asked.
"Well, I'm some forty-two thousand lien poorer," Qrow replied. "Should of seen it. Ol' Shiro made me look like the responsible grown-up. Me and the kid, we get there, and I end up chucking his drunk ass out a window. He falls asleep, right there in the dirt, and the kid looks puzzled, like this is some inexplicable shit beyond comprehension." The old Huntsman chuckled. "So then this crazy old woman who owns the dive comes busting out, demands we fork over his bar tab. Forty-two thousand lien! The kid, he goes right up to the woman and he says 'pardon me, madame, but you're out of your mind with syphilis' or something like that."
They shared a laugh at the idea, and at Qrow's impression of Jaune's 'formal' voice. Qrow shook his head. "So the woman tries to knife the kid while I'm just laughing my ass off, and then we went and blasted Shiro's drunk ass awake with a garden hose." He sighed, deeply. "Ah, Shiro. Of course, he'd find some way to stick me with the bill one last time. You live long enough in this job, you get used to losing friends. I...I don't have too many left."
She didn't know if she was crossing a line or not. Winter sat down on his couch and gently pulled him onto her.
"Uh, Winter, I -" Qrow sputtered.
"Shhh." She held his head to her breast, gently stroking his hair and letting him hear the steady beating of her heart. Winter had never been this close to a man before. Well, she'd never been this close to a man before that she wasn't trying to beat into submission.
It was...oddly nice.
Slowly, he fell asleep as she held him. Winter watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, and took a moment to appreciate the warmth.
She never noticed as she fell asleep herself.
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The following morning, Winter knew that it was probably a mistake, but she still went to meet Medusa Nikos for breakfast. Sure enough, the perceptive woman noticed right away that something was on her mind, and refused to be dissuaded from it. Finally, Winter relented.
"It's my sister, Weiss," she finally admitted. Well, she admitted that part. She certainly wasn't going to tell Medusa that she fell asleep on Qrow's couch the previous night, with the man himself on top of her. Woman had enough ammunition as it was. "She's just growing up so fast. It's as if one day, she's a little ten-year old pulling on my pant leg, and the next, she's gone and fallen in love, is planning a future...I just feel...disoriented by it."
"Well, that's what happens when you're a mother," Medusa said.
"Oh, no, I'm not her mother," Winter quickly said. "I'm only ten years older than her."
She arched an eyebrow. "Really? I thought you were older than that."
Winter's expression went deadpan. "Thanks, awfully. Truly, you are the confidante of the ages."
The Nikos woman shrugged. "I think you've been working too hard for too long. Do you know what I think you need?"
"If the words 'husband' or 'boyfriend' come out of your mouth, I swear - "
"You need a spa day," Medusa declared. "You said Ozpin gave the children time off, correct? Well, what better time to go and get pampered?"
"...I'm a soldier," Winter said, mystified. "I don't get 'pampered.'"
"You were a soldier," the older woman pointed out. "Now you're just a young woman who is overstressed. So come with me into Vale, we'll make a day out of it."
Winter stared down at her tea. "...Very well."
Nikos clapped happily. "That's the spirit! You'll love it, I promise."
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The following morning, the students made their plans for the day. Ruby, having begun effectively teaching herself the basics of robotics, wanted to spend time going over technical schematics with Penny, who was able to teach her more of the advanced sciences. Blake wanted to laze about reading in her pajamas, while Yang worked on secretly installing a custom loading ramp for her motorcycle onto Qrow's airship, with neither his knowledge or consent.
Of course, with Jaune having been given only the barest hint of what his task from Ozpin might be, the rest of Team JNPR, plus Weiss and Percival, had decided to accompany him to the mysterious address. It was a pleasant autumn day, with a lovely breeze that was just enough to gently tickle Jaune's bare torso without becoming uncomfortable. The group had a brief hike along a dirt road leading around the perimeter of Vale's city walls, when their destination came into view.
A large house stood before a massive, fenced in pasture, where horses grazed idly on the grassy field.
"Is he serious?" Jaune asked, checking the note and then looking up at the stables. Weiss, for her part, clapped happily, having been heartbroken to have left Stardust behind in Mantle.
"Well, I guess a knight does need a horse," Pyrrha reasoned with a shrug. When Jaune turned around to address his friends, he noticed something was off.
Nora - wild, irrepressible, giddy Nora - had gone as pale as a sheet and was shaking like a leaf in the wind, while Ren had his arm around her, holding her tightly.
"Um...are you okay?" Jaune asked.
Ren looked at Nora, then back at the rest of their friends. "We've had some...bad experiences...not a horse, but something like a horse."
"Do you want to go back?"
"No!" Nora shouted suddenly. "It's just...it's just a stupid horsey, right? Besides, we can't let you go in alone. You'd be killed! Crushed by the hooves, smashed into paste! No, we're coming with you!"
The other three shared a wary glance at Nora's declaration. "...Ooookaay," Pyrrha said, slowly, trying to imitate her mother's tone of voice to soothe the twitchy Nora. "Tell you what. Me and Weiss will go with Jaune, and you two stay out here until you feel like you're ready to come in, okay? We'll make sure he doesn't get eaten by any big, bad horsies."
Ren sighed. "We'll be along in a bit. This will make sense later, I promise."
"Sure thing," said Jaune. With that, he turned back around and made for the door of the house. He knocked politely and waited for a response. After a moment, the door opened, and a young woman, about their age, slender with long brown hair, answered.
"Hello?"
Jaune put on his most charming smile. "Hello. My name is Jaune Arc. Headmaster Ozpin, from Beacon Academy, sent me here."
"I'm sure he did," the girl murmured, her eyes roaming Jaune's shirtless form. "Is it my birthday already?" Weiss crossed her arms, annoyed, but before she could say anything, an old man appeared behind the girl.
"Rowan, I know you're not standing here jawing when the east stables need to be mucked."
She turned around. "Oh come on, Grandpa! I sent Burgundy to do it!"
The old man scoffed. "Burgundy?" he echoed. "That boy would struggle to pour piss out of a boot with the instructions on the heel. Go over and make sure it's done right."
The girl rolled her eyes with the endless sarcasm of a teenage girl. "Yes, Grandpa." With that, the girl left, leaving just the man to size up the newcomers. The man was old, with a heavily-lined face, and short-cropped hair and beard that were white with age. Despite his obvious age, his back was still straight, and his eyes were still clear and sharp. "So, what brings you to my door, hmm?"
Jaune took the lead once again. "Hello, sir. My name is Jaune Arc. Headmaster Ozpin, of Beacon Academy, sent me here. These are my teammates on Team JNPR, and my girlfriend, Weiss."
The old man looked him over. "I see. Did Ozpin tell you why he sent you here, boy?"
He shook his head. "No, sir."
"Very well. Come on, follow me."
Jaune shrugged as the man turned around and moved through the house without another word. The three youths followed him, emerging into the pasture. The puppy stared, wide-eyed, at what were surely Very Large Friends indeed.
"So, here's the deal, boy. We raise the finest horses in all the world, right here. What you're going to do is find a nice sunny spot in the pasture - preferably one without horsehit in it - and you're going to meditate."
Jaune looked around the pasture, seeing horses calmly grazing, napping, or otherwise going about their equine business. "As you say, sir."
The old man crossed his arms. "You don't know why I'm asking you to do it, but you're doing it anyway?"
"Well, it seems harmless enough, and I trust Headmaster Ozpin not to have me do anything outright evil. If this is a prank, all that it means is that I spend an hour or so sitting quietly in a sunny field."
"Hmm," the old man grunted. "Well, see about it, then. If your master is right about you, something interesting should happen."
Jaune began walking into the field, making sure to avoid any droppings that the horses may have left in the field, though it was obvious that the man's granddaughter and stablehands were diligent in keeping the place clean. He found a clear spot, slightly elevated, and sat down easily, crossing his legs.
He worked to settle his thoughts - he needed a new shirt, his hair was growing longer and stirring in the wind, was it knightly to throw powdered glass in Hazel's eyes, was Weiss okay, Weiss's legs in her pleated Beacon skirt, naked Weiss glistening in the shower, Weiss in general, what was wrong with Nora - and focused solely on his breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Soon, even those instructions left his mind, as he just allowed the sensation of his essence, his Aura, to flow freely through him, easing the partition between the world around him and the small part of the world that he labeled as himself.
And then, there was something else there, on his consciousness, like a reflection.
He heard a huffing sound.
Slowly, Jaune opened his eyes and came face to face with the biggest goddamn horse he had ever seen in his life. It had a white coat, a golden mane, and an enormous crest of muscle along its neck. It regarded him warily with big, soulful brown horse eyes.
The horse, for his part, seemed unimpressed, huffing at Jaune.
"Well, I'm sorry," he said. "We can't all be enormous horses, you know."
The horse seemed puzzled by that notion.
"Someone has to point the lance, and horses don't have thumbs," Jaune answered.
The horse seemed appeased by that answer, so Jaune slowly stood up, realizing that his legs had gone a little stiff, indicating that he'd sat there for a while. Jaune was a fairly tall young man, standing two inches above six feet, so it was with some startlement that he realized that this horse was even taller than he was. At a rough estimate, Jaune put this horse at around twenty hands high, which was enormous, and the horse had thick, powerful muscles under its short white coat. "Wow," he said, looking him - and a quick glance showed that it was definitely an ungelded stallion - over. "My condolences to whoever gets stuck with your food bill."
The horse whinnied, sounding almost like it was laughing at him.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, Mister Horse, but I should probably go see what my friends are up to."
Jaune turned and went to walk back to where he had left his friends, only to hear the thudding steps of the horse following along behind him. He turned back around, and sure enough, the horse stopped, looking at him expectantly. "Um...can I help you?"
The horse looked just as puzzled.
"Well, I don't know!" Jaune protested.
The horse nuzzled him, his large nostrils making Jaune's hair fly about when the horse huffed again.
"Fine, fine, you can follow me if you want. It's still going to be the same pasture, so don't think it'll be anything exciting."
[/]
Nora wanted to hit something. She really, really wanted to hit something.
It was bad enough that stupid Ozpin had made Jaune come to the place where apparently horses came from, but Ren had gone and struck up a conversation with that brown-haired hussy. Even now, she had her Ren reaching up to stroke the neck of some docile old mare. Nora knew better. The horse was just pretending, to lure Ren into a false sense of security. It was a trick! That she'd caught him glancing at the girl's extremely tight riding pants didn't help matters, nor did the girl's "accidental" brushing of his hand with hers.
It was all of Nora's worst nightmares rolled into one. Horses and some other girl hitting on her Ren!
"It seems she likes me," Ren said, a slight smile on his face.
The girl chewed her bottom lip. "Well, horses are good judges of character."
Pyrrha watched nervously as Nora was torn between rage and abject terror. "Are...are you okay?"
"Oh, I'm just fine, Pyrrha, never been better, Pyrrha, thanks so much for asking, Pyrrha!"
"...See, it's statements like that that make me think you're not okay, Nora."
Nora was about to explode, when Ren came back. "See, it's nothing to be afraid of, Nora. I'm okay. They're just animals, like any other."
She wanted to snap at him, but she couldn't bring herself to do so, not when he was so understanding and just...ergh!
"Hey, Jaune's coming back!" Weiss announced.
Finally. It'd been, like, an hour since he'd wandered off into the horselands. Nora had argued that they needed to recover his body, at least, but everyone else had just stared at her like she was the crazy one.
So, she looked over to where Weiss was pointing, to see Fearless Leader, calmly walking next to a massive beast of a horse. Nora's jaw dropped, and hers wasn't the only one.
"That horse is beautiful!" breathed Weiss.
Pyrrha whistled. "Holy hell, Jaune."
"That's...where are we even going to put that?" Ren, more practically-minded, asked.
Nora just tried not to panic. And then, as if to prove that Jaune was insane, he was, apparently, having what appeared to be a full-blown conversation with the damn thing.
"...Look, I'm sorry I interrupted your nap. I was just told to go meditate out in the field. How was I supposed to know that it would do something?"
The horse huffed at Jaune.
Next to Ren, the stable girl laughed. "Holy crap, he pulled Talos! Hang on, I'm gonna go get my Grandpa."
She departed, and left Jaune standing awkwardly next to the horse. "Um...I found a horse. He wants to follow me around for some reason."
"Oh, look at you!" Weiss stepped forward to pet the horse's snout. "Oh, you are simply magnificent! You're just a good -" she leaned over to check -"yep, you're a boy alright. Yes, you're a good horse, and a pretty horse."
The horse, for his part, basked in Weiss's affection, and even began doing dressage steps in place, delighting the Atlesian girl.
"You're an enormous ham," Jaune said, wryly, to the horse. "I want you to know that."
The horse huffed at him.
Ren, his arm still around Nora to keep her trembling under control, hesitated for a second. "Jaune, are you...talking to that horse?"
"Well, yes," Jaune answered, a little puzzled. "It's pretty easy to tell what he's thinking."
The horse huffed once more.
"Well pardon me, Your Excellency, I don't have any apples on me."
"See!" Nora pointed. "Horses have evil powers! They're making Jaune talk all crazy!"
The horse looked over at Nora, turning his head sideways to get a good look at her. Then he huffed again, apparently considering her to be irrelevant.
"Oh, she's fine," Jaune said.
"It is a...little strange," Pyrrha said.
The old man came ambling over. He looked at Jaune, then the horse. "I really shouldn't be surprised," he began. "When Talos here was foaled, I thought it was some kinda sad tribute. Should've guessed there was still an Arc out there. Do you know what this means, boy?"
Jaune shook his head. "Afraid not. I just went out, meditated, and then this overgrown goofball - Talos, was it? - began following me around."
The old man sighed. "Should have guessed that that Atlesian went and cocked up your upbringing."
"Hey!" Weiss protested.
She was ignored.
"All right, boy, listen up. Every knight that ever lived bonded to their horse. Other people have horses, of course, but it's that bond that sets the Knights of Vale apart. And you've gone and bonded to a Valean Destrier. I'm going to operate off the assumption that you don't know what that means either. In the wild, horses live in herds. Now, from time to time, those herds would come under attack, either from predators, or in very rare cases, creatures of Grimm. In those instances, stallions would attempt to fend off those threats, or at least dissuade them from pursuing the rest of the herd as it fled. This, of course, meant that those stallions would tend to die young."
"The Valean Destrier is the end result of generations of selective breeding for those traits that would make specifically fighting horses. We breed them for that protective instinct. We breed them for fearlessness. We breed them for physical size, strength, and for their Aura capacity. A Vacuoan Courser may be faster, the Mistrali Palfrey may have an easier temperament, but when you absolutely, positively need to charge down a goddamn Deathstalker, then you need a horse that is just as steadfast and courageous as the man riding it."
As the old man spoke, Talos puffed up his chest proudly.
"He wants you all to be very impressed," Jaune remarked.
"Well, I am," Weiss gushed, continuing to heap affection onto the horse, who whinnied happily.
"I think he likes you more than me," Jaune deadpanned.
The old man crossed his arms. "So, boy, what do you think all of this means for you?"
Jaune thought for a moment. "Well, I'm going to need to learn how to properly care for a horse."
"Well, that's a start. Glad to see you're not daft, at least."
"And from there...how to fight in tandem with a horse?"
"Truly, a dim bulb slowly brightening."
Jaune shrugged. "I don't suppose you could point me in the direction of a teacher, could you?"
The old man stared at him, while behind him, his granddaughter started to giggle.
"You really have no idea who I am, do you?"
Jaune scratched the back of his head. "...The stablemaster?"
"Maidens preserve us," the old man snapped. "My name is Roland du Rendal, a Knight of Vale. I've been training knights since before your father was a glint in his father's eye!"
"Oh! My apologies," Jaune said quickly. "I had no idea. I recovered the copy of Livre de Chevalerie that you gifted to my father. It's helped me quite a bit these last few months."
That set the old knight back on his heels a bit. "I...hell, I guess I can't be made at you for not recognizing me. Bit of the old pride. Come on, boy. I'll show you how to make sure a horse is ready to ride, and we'll see how you sit in the saddle."
[/]
Ruby stuck her tongue out as she worked on soldering the computer chip that she was refurbishing for Penny. It had been a long, long time since she'd stretched her capabilities beyond strictly weaponry, but somehow, having Penny with her made the study much more enjoyable than if she'd been slogging through such technical information on her own.
She turned off her equipment and inspected the chip. "Well, what do you think, Penny?"
The synthetic girl looked it over. "Wonderful job, Friend Ruby! Would you assist me in reintegration?"
Ruby blinked her large silver eyes. "Uh...sure? I don't know how, though."
"Oh, don't worry, Ruby. I can walk you through the entire process!"
"Well, if it's that easy, it shouldn't be a problem."
"Wonderful! Please stand back as I initialize primary weapon storage detachment!"
"What?"
As Ruby watched, the "backpack" that Penny wore detached from her with a hydraulic hiss. Penny shrugged it off and placed it on their workbench, then, in a casual movement, unhooked her dress straps and pulled her undershirt off over her head, leaving her in just her undergarments.
Ruby dropped the chip, her eyes wide. She knew she really should have looked away, but she kinda...didn't want to? For reasons?
Penny, being a robot, of course didn't understand the reason for Friend Ruby's abrupt elevation in temperature and heart rate. "Are you well, Ruby? Is this one of your organic people diseases?" She turned around and stepped closer to Ruby, putting a hand on the girl's forehead.
Ruby made a sound that was almost words.
"Oh my," Penny said. "It appears as though you've come down with an abrupt meat-person fever. Please stand by while I retrieve the necessary medication!" Just as perfunctorily as she had removed them, Penny replaced her undershirt, dress and backpack. "Please have a seat, Friend Ruby. I will return shortly!"
As the synthetic girl trotted off on her mission to find cold medicine and warm milk, Ruby fanned herself with a copy of Weapons Monthly. What was that? She just...and why didn't she look away? More to the point, why did the robot girl get to have bigger bazooms than her?!
There were many mysteries for Ruby to ponder as she tried to get herself under control in the workshop.
[/]
Sir Roland showed Jaune how to check a horse's condition, including the length of the hooves, its general health, and its attitude, all of which could be discerned while grooming the horse. He showed the young Arc how to read a horse's body language and expressions, though given that Talos was an extremely expressive horse, that wasn't all that difficult. The elderly knight showed Jaune how to set up the tack - the equipment that one needed to ride a horse, including the bit, bridle, saddle, and so on - and how to check that it was on correctly.
Finally, when he had demonstrated his knowledge to Roland's satisfaction, Jaune mounted his horse for the first time.
He balanced in the stirrups as Talos entered the yard at an easy walk.
"See? You're not so bad," Jaune said to the horse, patting him on the neck.
"Congratulations, you didn't die leaving the stable," Sir Roland observed dryly. "Into a trot, if you would. Click twice."
Jaune made a clicking sound with his mouth twice, and Talos, being well-trained, responded by speeding up into a trot. Jaune didn't care for that gait as much, feeling jarred by the motion of the horse.
"Go into a posting trot," instructed the knight. "Rise up in the saddle in time with the horse." He watched the young man attempt to synchronize his motions to those of the horse. "That's it. Move with your hips, boy."
He watched Jaune and Talos trot around the yard for a bit. "Good. Now, into a canter. Sit back in the saddle - no, boy, you're too far back! - and squeeze your legs together to signal him to pick up the pace. Sit up straight, boy. Ear, shoulder, hip, and heel, all in a line. Let the hips move with the horse, boy."
It occurred to Jaune, as he was riding, that Weiss's own experience as a horseback rider may have had other applications, applications that he was only now beginning to comprehend.
"Loosen your knees!" Sir Roland called out. "You're thinking of a girl, aren't you, boy? Damn it, focus when I'm teaching you, or I'll box your ears!" Jaune didn't know how Sir Roland knew that, and was a little frightened to ask. "Just like his father," Roland muttered. "Put your weight back into your heels!"
Sir Roland watched the pair canter a bit before calling for Jaune to halt.
"Woah," Jaune called to Talos, encouraging him to slow to a stop by where Sir Roland leaned on the yard fence.
"Well, not great, but not as terrible as I'd have figured someone raised by Atlesians to ride. Guess it's in the blood."
Jaune frowned. "Do you have something against Atlesians?"
"Bah." Roland waved dismissively. "I figure most of them are the same as folk anywhere else, just trying to make it by as best they can. No, my problem is with their king."
"The General," Jaune said, his tone dark. Talos snorted in indignation, causing his rider to pat his neck to calm him back down.
"So, for regular folk? No, can't say I have any quarrel with them," said Sir Roland. "But it's a damn bitter pill watching your order reduced to a dozen old men, while the son-of-a-bitch who led them into a suicide mission survives. Hell, he not only survived, he had the gall to name his war machines 'knights' and 'paladins.' And then I found out that he had one of our own the whole damn time, and worse, he..." He spat into the dirt, taking a moment to regain his temper. "Here's the secret about being a Knight of Vale, boy. The reason we still keep to horsemanship in a time of cars and airships. A machine, it has no soul. A car cares not if you crash it. But your horse is more than a battle platform. It's a partner, your other half, the missing piece to a whole warrior. That General can name his damn robots whatever he pleases, but there is a meaning to the mounted knight, a rallying sight that no amount of automation can replace."
The old knight looked out over the pasture, where his granddaughter was showing a young colt to Nora, who was slowly dropping out of her tense stance.
"You should have seen it, boy," the old man said. "A line of heavy cavalry, crashing into the Grimm, breaking the horde with its charge. The thunder of the hooves, the banners in the wind. 'To call the cavalry,' or 'the cavalry has arrived,' those are artifacts of our language that derive from the sheer number of times that our horses, and the men and women who rode them, saved our collective bacon. The Grimm, they seek to instill terror. It's their weapon, more than their claws or fangs. When the people saw the Knights of Vale lined up, it was a sign that there were still people ready and willing to fight for what we've built in this murderous world of ours. That's something that that General's tin soldiers can't replicate."
Sir Roland sighed. "But those days are gone now, like rain from the mountain. Maybe the time of the knight is over, and the time of the iron fist has begun. Or maybe you'll be one to turn things around."
"What about your granddaughter?" Jaune asked.
The old knight smiled. "Ah, sweet Rowan. She loves the horses, don't get me wrong, but she's not one for war. I understand she's looking to become a veterinarian, take over the ranch when I finally kick it. There are a few other young ones, but...well, it's a hard life, boy. Not many are willing to endure the restrictions on behavior that is demanded by the Knight's Code. Oh, some think they do, but then they get a hard taste of reality, and decide that maybe just being a Huntsman isn't so bad after all."
"I see," Jaune said, his tone neutral.
"Do you?" Sir Roland's reply was sharp. "By your own admission, you've only just begun this path. Have you ever had those ideals, ideals of which you've only read, tested?"
"Yes. I extended mercy to an enemy who had hurt my friends, an enemy who I very much wanted to kill. I spoke truth to protect an innocent, even when it could have cost me my relationship with the woman that I love. Upon ransoming Cardin Winchester's armor and weapon, I used the proceeds to give to charity, striving to uphold the ideals of austerity and generosity."
"Hmm." Sir Roland looked Jaune over. "I suppose I've been comparing you to your father a bit much."
"How do you mean, sir?"
"Don't get me wrong, your father was a good man. But...well, that book you found? I gave it to him after cuffing his ears for two-timing the girls at Beacon his first term."
"What?!"
Roland chuckled. "Don't even pretend that you've not had the opportunity, you look just like him, you pretty gilded bastards. My own Rowan looked like she wanted to drag you into the nearest pile of hay and teach you an entirely different kind of riding."
Jaune coughed awkwardly.
"That's what I thought, boy."
"Well, just because others may have...noticed me, that doesn't mean that I returned such...intentions. Weiss is the only one with whom I intend to have romantic affairs."
Sir Roland shrugged. "Just be honest and keep your word. Your father felt that 'pillow talk,' as he put it, didn't count. Between myself and your mother, he got straightened out with a quickness." He grinned again as he remembered his mischievous squire. "The situations I had to drag that boy out of…I once found him hiding from your mother in a cistern." His smile faded and he sighed. "Some say that the proudest day of a knight's life is the day he earns his spurs. It has been my experience that the proudest day is the day one of his squires earns his. I miss your father a great deal."
The two gazed out at the horses, Jaune atop Talos and Sir Roland atop the yard fence.
"So, in the event that I were to take you on as a squire, it wouldn't be conventional," the elderly knight explained. "Ordinarily, you would have been my apprentice for at least three years by this point, possibly longer. However, Ozpin informs me that you are a skilled fighter, at least on foot. That works just fine for me. I'm eighty years old, so I'm not quite looking to go to broadswords with a boy who's younger than some of my bunions. No, I'll teach you the Way of the Horse, and help guide you in matters of ethics. But make no mistake, boy: no one, no matter what family they come from, is entitled to a knighthood. It is something that you earn, and I'll make sure that you earn it. I would also ask a promise of you."
"Sir?"
Sir Roland sighed. "As I said, the Order is dying out. I would teach you everything you need to become a Knight of Vale. You'll finish your education at Beacon, join Ozpin's damn fool crusade, but assuming that you survive, I'd ask you to take what you've learned and rebuild the Knights of Vale. Any knight can make another knight. Seek those whose character matches their prowess and invite them. Train squires of your own, and charge them with the same duty once they have been raised to knighthood themselves. Be careful and cautious, and do everything in your power to ensure that those that you raise never give cause to sully the name of the Knights of Vale. Moreover, be just in your assessment of others. Your father caused quite a stir when he took a Faunus lad as his squire. The boy never survived to earn his spurs, though. Some of the others refuse to acknowledge it, even. The people with the temperament and willingness to serve are rare enough without shutting out an entire race. Women - human women - are less controversial than Faunus, but were still rather rare. Unfortunately, there are no surviving lady knights."
Jaune sighed. "What happened to them all? The Knights of Vale?"
"I wish I knew, boy. I had begun my retirement, when your father and that Atlesian came by to pick out horses for their knights and soldiers. Never knew what, exactly, they were after, only that, of all the people that went, only the Atlesian was ever heard from again. Wasn't long after that that Château d'Arc went up in flames. There were only a few of us left, and of those...well, some of them were not exactly the cream of Valean chivalry. Most were more interested in the social benefit of knighthood, and not the institution itself. I lost my firstborn son with your father, and my youngest died holding the line at Mountain Glenn. So, here we are, boy, out on the ragged edge of extinction."
They fell silent again.
"Would you be willing to take me on as your squire?"
Sir Roland gave Jaune an appraising look, glancing down at Talos, who stood idly swinging his tail around.
"All right, boy. I'll give you a chance."
"Thank you, sir."
"This is a grave responsibility, boy. Don't forget that." He frowned as he looked at his new squire. "And when you come by tomorrow, bring proper boots and a damn shirt."
"Is that really necessary, Grandpa?" Rowan, mounted atop a horse of her own, grinned wickedly as she rode by.
"Damn straight it is!" Sir Roland called out.
Jaune shrugged. "It will take me some time to get the boots and shirt made."
"Made? What do you mean, 'made?'"
"Well, I need to make them myself. I...well, I haven't actually got any money."
Roland stared at him. "You gave away all the money to charity?"
Jaune shrunk under the knight's gaze. "Well, I kind of have a lot to make amends for."
The knight just pinched the bridge of his nose. "Damn it, Gil."
"...I'm Jaune, sir."
Roland did a double-take. "So you are. Sorry, boy. I was far away for a moment. Force of habit, from every time your father did something absurd." He looked to the sky in a great and melodramatic gesture. "Here I am, volunteering to train another irritating Arc boy. Truly, I must be some kind of masochist." He shook his head. "Come on, boy. I'll show you how to take the tack off of a horse, and get him brushed down."
Despite being a stallion, Talos had been exceptionally well-trained, and patiently waited as Jaune, at Roland's direction, began removing the saddle, bit, bridle, and saddle blanket off of the horse. He carefully brushed him down, though the exercise hadn't been extensive enough to really put the powerful warhorse through his paces.
"All right, boy, let's set him back out to pasture. You've been good, Talos. Go, have fun."
The horse trotted back out to wander freely as he would, though he had waited for Jaune to give him the final say-so before he would leave. Sir Roland led Jaune into the ranch house, and opened up a large closet.
"Well, since you don't even have proper boots or a damn shirt, I'm going to assume that you lack armor as well?"
"My armor was destroyed in a mission not long ago," Jaune said.
That took the elderly knight back a bit. "Grimm?"
"A human."
"A human destroyed plate armor?"
"Direct injection of Gravity Dust. He crushed my cuirass with his bare hands. I barely survived."
Sir Roland shook his head. "See, this is what I meant when I said that your squireship would be unconventional. Most squires, I'd have to talk to them about what it means to fight for their lives. You, you already know."
"Well...there is something that I was wondering if you could answer for me," began Jaune.
"What is it? Here, try these on," Roland tossed a set of heeled riding boots towards Jaune, who set about trying them on.
"Well, the man I fought, he has an intense ability to generate Aura, and a Semblance that allows him to disregard physical pain. In order to beat him, I could use a device to spray aerosolized particulates at high pressure, forcing him to inhale it, possibly even blinding him as well. I was thinking a mixture of powdered glass and a potent nerve agent, to wear down his Aura from the inside and disrupt his physical abilities. However, that doesn't seem like a very knightly thing to do."
Sir Roland stroked his beard. "Well, boy, are you challenging this man to an honor duel?"
"Um...no?"
"Is this a tourney bout? A friendly exhibition match?"
"No, he was...pretty insistent in his attempts to kill me."
"Right. So, here's your first lesson, boy. The notions in that book, offering mercy to your enemies, all of that? That is predicated on victory. You can only offer those acts of mercy from a position of power, and if you're deadlocked in a fight to the death, trying to act on notions of honor will get you killed. When it's war, win the fight, then compose poetry later. Given that Ozpin must have sent you out, I'm assuming that this person was a villain of some sort?"
"Well, there were two of them, against just me. There was an ally, a Huntsman, but he was swiftly killed. The two did their level best to kill me, but I was able to injure one and stalemate with the other until reinforcements arrived."
Roland just stared at him, before throwing a white linen arming shirt to Jaune. "'Skilled fighter,' Ozpin said. Master of understatement, as usual. Friggin' smartass. In that case, boy, if you ever find yourself in such a situation like that again - and knowing you Arcs, you'll probably do so before the week is out - you have my express permission to go absolutely insane on the people trying to kill you. Look at it this way - if these people are out killing Huntsmen, getting yourself killed by half-assing your fight just means that you are, by extension, getting other people killed in turn. Not much of a protector then, are you?"
Jaune pulled the shirt over his head. "Well, that makes sense."
"It'd damn well better, I've only been a knight for sixty-two years."
The squire chuckled at the old man's grumbling.
"Come on, boy, let's see about some armor."
Jaune tried to demure. "That isn't necessary -"
Sir Roland cuffed Jaune upside the head. "Shut up, boy. When you take on a squire, you assume a responsibility to make sure that they have food, medicine, clothes, armor, weapons, and education. In exchange, you listen to my orders, carry out tasks that I assign you, and cut the backtalk." The old man started pulling out a trunk. "Ah, here it is. Sit at that table, boy, while I bring out your new armor."
Jaune did as he was told, and Sir Roland began piling heavy pieces of thick, plain steel armor onto the table. "It's been...something like twenty-five years since I took on a squire, boy, so the armor is a bit rusted. Still, that's what you're here for. Get this armor good and polished. I don't want to see a speck of rust on it, understand?"
"Yes sir."
The squire took up a sharkskin and some oil and made to buff the old armor. He was still at it when his friends came by.
"Hey, Jaune, we're gonna go get lunch," Pyrrha said.
Jaune made to stand up. "Sure, let me just -"
Sir Roland cuffed Jaune upside the head. "You'll eat when I say you've finished your task, and not a moment before. Focus on your work."
Weiss giggled as Jaune sat back down, obviously trying not to swear. "Poor Jaune. I'll be back, okay?"
"As you say," Jaune mumbled, focused on buffing out rust.
Being a squire was no fun.
[/]
From time to time, it seemed as though even Medusa Nikos could be right about something. Winter practically melted as the masseuse worked out the knots in her neck and shoulders, and her skin felt amazing. On the table next to her, Nikos was similarly enjoying the treatment, her long red hair undone from her customary braids and falling loosely around her.
Winter's own hair fell loosely as well. The former soldier was unable to keep in a moan as the skilled masseuse worked an oil into her scalp.
"mmmQrow," she mumbled.
"I heard that," teased Medusa.
"You heard nothing."
"It sounded as if you were calling out for a certain avian associate of ours."
"Lies. That was merely a moan of pleasure, nothing more."
"But you wish it was him making you do that, hmm?"
"Please, ladies, this isn't that kind of establishment," Winter's masseuse commented, with just the right mix of professionalism to hide the obvious joke. Clearly, he was used to randy women expressing their approval of his services.
Winter just flushed at the implications. They meant nothing! That Nikos woman clearly had her braids woven too tightly if she kept making insane statements like that.
Crazy.
[/]
"Well, here it is," Jaune announced, presenting the armor for Sir Roland's inspection. The elderly knight went over each piece of the full harness with a critical eye, but given Jaune's upbringing, the habit of discipline had come back quickly to him.
"Fine, deprive an old man the fun of telling you to do it over again," Sir Roland griped. Weiss laughed at the grizzled old knight, a takeout container in her lap. "Before you eat, how are your ribs?"
Jaune stood up and stretched carefully, noting a distinct lack of pulling or pain. He then pulled out his Scroll and checked, seeing that his Aura had topped out at the full one-hundred percent. "It seems as though I'm good to go, sir."
"Good. Before you eat, put on your armor. All of it."
"Sir?"
"Congratulations, boy, that armor is now your new skin. When you eat, you are to be wearing that armor. When you ride, you are to be wearing that armor. When you attend your classes, you are to be wearing that armor. When you make love with your lady here, you are to be wearing that armor."
"Wait, what?" asked Weiss.
"Until I tell you otherwise, the only time you are to remove that armor is to bathe, to be examined by a physician, or to relieve yourself. Is that understood, squire?"
"Yes, sir," Jaune said.
"Good. Now, put on your skin."
Though plain, the armor that Sir Roland provided for his squire was a full harness of brushed steel, and covered nearly all of Jaune from head to toe. Sabatons covered the tops of his feet. Greaves wrapped around his shins and connected to cuisses that protected his thighs and hung from arming points that distributed the weight to his hips. A cuirass protected his upper torso, with a riveted lower segment that partially overlapped the upper torso armor. From that segment were riveted articulated faulds, to protect the lower abdomen, and tassets, to protect the upper thighs of a man who was mounted on a horse. On the arms, articulated gauntlets allowed Jaune his full manual dexterity, while vambraces protected his forearms and spaulders protected the upper arms. The pauldrons were asymmetrical in design, with the left being larger and overlapping the cuirass to protect the heart, while the right was smaller and allowed greater range of motion with a weapon. A gorget armored Jaune's throat, while his head was protected with a visored armet helmet, which also had a downswept tail to protect the back of his neck.
After he'd finally finished donning his armor, Jaune raised the visor on his helmet, to better allow him to see.
"It's a bit heavy," he mentioned.
"Well, yes. Part of that is for training purposes, so you'll be comfortable in armor," admitted Sir Roland.
"And the rest?"
"...I don't like losing squires," the old knight said. "Enjoy your meal, boy. See me afterwards for more horse training."
When the old knight had left, Weiss handed him his lunch, only two hours late. "He...he didn't mean what he said about making love in armor, did he?"
"I would not put it past him," Jaune replied.
"You're young and clever, you'll figure it out!" Sir Roland called from an adjoining room, causing Weiss to jump. "Hurry up and eat, boy, we're losing daylight!"
Being a squire really was no fun.
[/]
Yang was feeling pretty good about herself when she went to the Beacon Academy motor pool to retrieve her bike. She figured she could test out the new ramp she'd put on the Corvid's Claw and then go on a lovely afternoon ride, get some kicks in.
Her smile dropped immediately as she saw her beloved motorcycle up on cinder blocks, the tires gone. A sticky note attached to the handlebars read "Good luck finding your tires, Firecracker! Love, Uncle Q."
"Son of a -"
[/]
Qrow was feeling pretty good about himself as he hauled the motorcycle loading ramp into Team RWBY's dorm room. Yang was good, sure, but she still had a ways to go to surpass the master. He knocked on the door and the Faunus girl, Mittens, answered.
"Heya, Mittens. Just giving something back to Yang. Which one is her bunk?"
The quiet girl pointed to one of the bottom bunks and hopped onto the one above it to keep reading a book.
"Thanks, Mittens."
"No problem."
She started as she realized that she'd just casually answered to the name "Mittens." "Wait, shit, I forgot to be hostile!"
Qrow waved her off as he dropped the steel ramp onto Yang's bunk. "It's all right. I won't tell anyone if you won't."
"...Right. Well, you'd better go. I think I hear your liver giving out."
"Yeah, yeah, fuck you, Mittens. Enjoy the time off."
"Glad you're not dead, asshole."
Qrow chuckled as he closed the door behind him. The kids were all right.
He was still in a good mood when he saw Medusa Nikos and Winter Schnee walking and casually chatting together in the hallway, both looking like a billion lien. Holy crap. It was enough to make him rethink the "hookup Taiyang with the priestess" plan and see if he could land both ladies at once.
What? If Taiyang could go for two women, why couldn't he? Admittedly, one of those women was Qrow's fundamentally fucked-up sister, which changed things quite a bit. Qrow never had the heart to tell Yang that he was pretty sure that her entire existence, and subsequent abandonment by her birthmother, was a move specifically to hurt him, to show that she could have everything he'd ever wanted with Tai and throw it away, just because she could.
Taiyang had always called Raven a "complicated woman." Qrow thought that that was a generous term for "rampant she-bitch."
Well, shit, he had gone from looking at two gorgeous women to thinking about his twin sister. Pretty sure that there was a psychological condition for that. As he passed the pair, Nikos winked at him, causing him to grin. Maybe there was a shot there after all? Or was she trying to give some signal about Winter? Nikos was the best wingwoman he'd ever had.
Well, things were starting to look up for old Qrow. He just hoped his luck held.
His Scroll chimed, and he read the message.
Well. So much for that thought.
[/]
"I don't see the problem here."
Pyrrha hid behind the door to Team JNPR's dorm room. She had started to go in, when she heard raised voices from Nora and Ren. The former was to be expected, but the latter?
"Oh, of course you don't see the problem," Nora retorted. "That horse girl was all over you! She obviously had evil, evil designs on you!"
"So what if she did? Is it so impossible to believe that someone finds me attractive? And if so, what's wrong with that? It's not like we're going anywhere!"
"W-what?"
"Either make a move or let me go, Nora. I can't be stuck in limbo anymore."
"Why do I have to make the first move?"
"Because the only one who insists that we aren't 'together-together' is you!"
"I…"
"What, Nora?"
As Pyrrha watched, Nora mustered her courage and pulled Lie Ren into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around the small girl, who shoved him onto his bunk. The champion very quietly closed the door, walked down the hall and out of the dormitory building, and proceeded to lose her mind in joy.
[/]
"Again!"
Weiss watched as Jaune rode at full gallop, a heavy training lance couched under his arm. For the past few days, he had been practicing his mounted combat skills under the watchful gaze of Sir Roland. Currently, he was engaging in an accuracy exercise with a lance or spear, which involved hitting a post mounted on a stand that had a heavy bag of sand tied to the other end to act as a counterweight. The target on the post was about the size of a man's hand, and Jaune had to strike it with the tip of the lance while Talos charged full-tilt.
She had tried to get Ruby to come with her, figuring that that would be the kind of thing that would interest her, but the younger girl's attention had been consumed by the problem of Penny for the past few days. When she wasn't going over technical schematics or robotics textbooks, she was gazing idly at the robotic girl. Well, Weiss figured that it was just good for Ruby to expand her interests beyond merely weaponry. She could do well as an engineer after retiring from active Huntress work. She was glad her partner was interested in such a lucrative vocation as robotics.
Weiss cheered as Jaune hit the target, causing the arm to spin around. Sir Roland nodded at the clean hit. "All right, boy. What say we go on a bit of a trip, hmm?"
"As you say, sir."
"Good. Hitch up Rocinante to my cart and make sure to take your real weapons with you."
"May I come along?" Weiss asked.
"Sure, why not? Bring the little squire as well," Sir Roland said, referring to Percival. At first, Weiss had been worried that the dog would spook the horse, a notion that caused Sir Roland to laugh himself hoarse. A Valean Destrier was bred and trained to charge Grimm. A puppy meant approximately nothing to it.
Jaune hitched up one of Sir Roland's draft horses, Rocinante, to a cart. The first time the old man had ordered the squire to do so, he'd explained that he'd outlived his Destrier, and at eighty years old, if he felt like driving a cart instead of riding on horseback, he'd damn well do so. This was Jaune's first time actually accompanying Sir Roland on one of those outings, however.
They set off down the dirt roads of the Valean hinterlands, beautiful pastoral countryside. Weiss rode in the cart next to Sir Roland, who regaled the young teenagers with tales of his adventures and of the glory days of the Knights of Vale. For someone who used the word "Atlesian" like a curse, Sir Roland had taken quite the shine to the young heiress, and was quite approving of the relationship between the girl and the squire. Mostly because it kept Jaune honest, and he was far too old to be dragging squires out of the bedchambers of lonely wives, as he'd cheerfully recounted to Jaune about some of his father's teenage misadventures.
Jaune had wanted to know more about his father. In that particular instance, he could stand to hear a little less. Still, for all of Sir Roland's grumbling, he always had a twinkle in his eye as he regaled the boy with all of his father's youthful indiscretions, and the sheer and sundry number of ways in which his mother had threatened to kill him over them.
The pleasant day trip was interrupted when Percival began to growl. He stiffened his body and snout into a point, a clear indication that danger - most likely a Grimm - was about. They picked up the pace, and came across a farmer, standing next to an overturned cart of cabbages and attempting to fend off some Beowulves with a billhook.
For Talos, the sight and smell of Grimm immediately got his blood up. He stamped at the ground with his hoof, and prepared for his favorite order: charge.
And charge he did. Jaune extended Ascalon into its full spear length, couching it close to his body under his arm. By approaching with the Grimm on his right, Jaune kept the spear directly in-line with his body. The weight and momentum of horse and rider was focused at the point of the spear, and it hit the first Beowulf with a truly terrific impact. The creature actually exploded into Grimmsmoke from the sheer force of the hit, and Jaune and Talos pressed on, taking a second Grimm in the same charge.
As they completed the pass, Jaune retracted Ascalon, clipping it to his belt, and drew Crocea Mors. Man and horse rode into the fray, with the squire making circular cuts to his right and reaching over to stab to his left. Talos reared up, stomping a Beowulf under his front hooves. In short order, the team of warhorse and squire had destroyed the Grimm.
The farmer rubbed his eyes. "Are...are you a knight? I thought they were gone!"
"Not yet, good sir!" Sir Roland called out cheerily as the cart caught up to them. "Not yet!"
[/]
Chapter Endnotes: Very much a lighter tone for this chapter. Everyone needs a breather.
Right. So, first off, there are a lot of fantastical elements pertaining to horses in this chapter: in our world, "destrier" refers to the type of training that a horse had undergone, not the breed, and they were usually around fifteen hands or so. Twenty hands is enormous for a horse, something like six-foot ten inches tall at the shoulder, or thereabouts. I figured that, if you were going to take a horse and develop a breed to throw down with actual monsters - and you weren't going to go the horse archery route - then you'd probably want to make a specialized brawling horse. Thus, the "Valean Destrier."
Bear in mind that RWBY is a setting where a goddamn corgi can become a critter of mass destruction, and you may get the idea of where I'm going with a twenty-hand high heavily-muscled, specially-trained warhorse who has never even heard of the concept of having fucks to give. That's the sort of animal that would be necessary for human beings to survive the world of Remnant long enough to develop high-tech civilizations.
In real life, a knight would have many horses, and would ride palfreys or perhaps dun rouseys for daily travel. Here, Jaune just has the one, to avoid clogging up the narrative with horseys. For the purposes of this story, I played up the idea of a mythical connection between knight and warhorse. If you've ever played D&D, think of it as Jaune the Paladin levelling up after fighting Tyrian and Hazel last chapter, and gaining access to the "Find Steed" ability. It also explains why he's able to work so well with Talos despite having only briefly ridden before, with Weiss back at Atlas.
The name Talos. One of the sources that I consulted for medieval horsemanship is actually a Youtube channel, "Modern History TV," which is operated by one Jason Kingsley, OBE. The man is an Officer of the British Empire, meaning a member of a real-life chivalric order - albeit a modern one focused more on cultural contributions than military prowess - and puts a great deal of time and effort into training horses for medieval recreations. One of the horses that appears on his videos is named Talos, who is a hybrid Andalusian of unusual size and strength, though he doesn't have the Arc coloring. The horse is also a tremendous ham, who shows off his fancy tricks for the camera without prompting, and I just love him to bits.
God, I love horses.
Weiss goes ga-ga over animals, and Jaune has both a horse and a hunting dog in training. She is a happy camper.
Knights are obligated to care for, educate, and troll their squires. It's good for them.
Sir Roland du Rendal obviously takes his name from the legendary Roland of "The Song of Roland," and his magical sword Durendal.
Lawful Good doesn't mean Lawful Stupid. Can't help anyone if you're dead. Throw down and offer mercy to the survivors.
Nora didn't like horses, for obvious reasons. She's getting better after meeting baby horses, though. She also doesn't like horseriding girls in tight riding pants hitting on her Ren. No help for that one, I'm afraid.
Like hell am I gonna wait seven volumes for Ren and Nora to kiss.
Right. Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Tune in next time!
Love,
Mahina
