A/N: Fun fun fun. Fun. FUN. XD
Enjoy.
Jaune was panicking on the inside. Compared to killing an enormous dragon a few minutes earlier, killing Beowulves and the like was something simple enough that Jaune didn't have to invest too much brainpower into it. Unfortunately, that also meant he had enough time to freak out about the fact that he had just kissed Yang Xiao-Long.
Why did I even do that? Jaune asked himself frantically, as he sidestepped the claws of an Ursa and cleaved it in half. Do I want to die?
Vedrahgol seemed to say nothing to this apparent meltdown, only settling back and observing with an amused interest, as if watching a drama unfold.
Come on Vedrahgol, you've gotta have something that'll help me out of this. Jaune asked his dragon-soul desperately, already at the end of his rope. The dragon laughed, knowing that he truly was desperate if the boy was asking him for advice on human girls.
I don't see what you've done wrong.Vedrahgol said frankly, shrugging his enormous shoulders. In fact, what I would suggest you do is pull her close and lock lips with her again. And then, to get things moving along, you could pull down those ridiculous pants and show her the length of your—
Not helping! Not helping at all!
The dragon simply roared in laughter, making the cavern around him rumble and shake.
Ah, you are all such complicated, silly little things, you humans.
Jaune groaned internally, already having known that asking Vedrahgol wouldn't net for anything. The feeling of panic rose up into his chest again, making him feel as if he was on the worst Bullhead ride of his life.
Maybe I can play it off as a joke. Jaune thought to himself desperately, ducking under a flying Nevermore and swiping his blade in a wide arc, knocking a charging Boarbatusk out of his way.
I may not know much about humans, but I don't think that's the right option to take, Maldovah. Jaune winced, conceding to the point, if only because the fact that if the dragon-soul thought it was a dumb idea, it was probably an absolutely idiotic idea.
Jaune sighed, bringing up his shield to block a heavy blow, grunting as he pirouetted around to slice a Grimm's head clean off its shoulders. Briefly forgetting about the fact that he was in the middle of a battlefield, he oriented his grip on Crocea Mors, standing in an idle stance while consulting his inner dragon.
How am I even going to explain this to her in the first place? I don't even know why I did that, let alone explain it to her.
Vedrahgol once again shrugged, tossing his head a little. It's probably because of the wildness of the Dov energy that you absorbed. After all, you had to find some way to expel the excess energy.
Jaune frowned. What do you mean excess energy? Wait a second, what happens when I absorb the dragon soul in the first place? Vedrahgol creased his eye ridges in confusion.
Do you not know? I could have sworn that I had already explained this to you. Jaune shook his head, sure that if they had spoken about this, he would have remembered. Vedrahgol went straight into his lecture mode, intent on delivering information that could save Jaune's life in the future.
Truth be told, there isn't much known about absorbing a dragon's soul. The only people that could do something of the sort and not die due to the sheer overwhelming power are the ones that already have dragon blood in them, dovahkiin, if you get what I am saying. Vedrahgol closed his eyes, casting his memories back to a time where he only had to worry about one Dragonborn, wondering around the lands of Skyrim as a veritable one-man army. Alas, that was hundreds of years ago.
A dovahkiin is a natural slayer of dragons, as they have the ability to kill a dragon permanently, stealing the dovah's soul and absorbing it into their own, augmenting their power in ways unimaginable.
Wait a second, kill a dragon permanently? Vedrahgol nodded at the question.
Yes. Under the right circumstances, with the right shouts and power, a dragon can be resurrected as long as a dovahkiin has not absorbed our souls, as our souls are immortal and forever lasting.
Jaune blinked, a little stunned at the revelation. No wonder he had been feeling as if he was getting stronger. By this point, he had killed three dragons, with a little (a lot of) help, and every time he had done so, he could feel a noticeable difference in his strength, something he had attributed to the fact that he had just gained more experience from killing a dragon before. This time it was… different.
Jaune could definitely feel that he had gotten stronger. By how much though, was the big question on his mind.
Jaune felt a hand clap onto his shoulder. Turning, he faced Pyrrha, who had a concerned look on her face.
"Are you alright Jaune? You've been standing in the middle of the field for quite some time now."
"Wha-?" Jaune turned around, discovering that the Hunters had made short work of the rest of the Grimm, leaving him to stand out in the open like an idiot. "Oh." Sheathing Crocea Mors, Jaune stepped away, looking away in embarrassment. An insistent Pyrrha grabbed him by the arm, trying to lead him to the team.
The blonde boy felt a rise of anger, wrenching his arm away from Pyrrha, snarling at her. "I can walk by myself." The anger was just as quick to leave as it was to begin, leaving Jaune mortified as he saw the hurt expression on Pyrrha's face.
"Sorry about that." Pyrrha said quietly, before scurrying away. Jaune reached out with one hand, wanting to say something before his words died in his throat, his eyes riveted to his friends, who had seen the whole thing. A brief flush of dread that he did something so unreasonable filled him, but was quickly washed away by even more rage and indignation, wondering why they were even looking over in this direction.
Jaune spun on his heels and stalked off in the opposite direction from his teams, muttering angrily to himself.
Finding a spot that was relatively unoccupied by living bodies, Jaune settled down, pulling out Crocea Mors and inspecting it, making sure there weren't any crazy dents and nicks on the blade, as well as the shield. He didn't even get five minutes to himself when he heard the crunch of snow near him, signaling that someone had approached him. Jaune didn't say anything, focused on the sword and shield.
Both of which were wrenched away from his hands, and tossed behind the figure, who crossed her arms and glared at him. Jaune leaned his body to the side a little, frowning at the sight of his sword laying in the snow like that.
"…I was working on that." Jaune said calmly, blood pumping into his head. His fists tightened a little, but some deep breaths allowed him to stay sitting. Yang kept her arms crossed.
"Uh huh. You wanna explain to me what that was all about?"
"What was what all about?" Jaune said innocently, staring straight into her eyes, daring her to call him out. Yang wasn't the most subtle person though, and bulled on straight ahead, happy to do so.
"You know exactly what. Why did you yell at Pyrrha? You never yell at Pyrrha." Jaune scowled at the words, shrugging dismissively.
"First time for everything." Jaune wasn't sure why, but he really wanted to make Yang mad, so he shrugged dismissively and even rolled his eyes. Yang drew in a breath, eyes flashing red for a second before turning back to their usual lilac.
"What has gotten into you?" Yang demanded to know, shifting her posture. "First you- you kiss me, then you yell at Pyrrha? Don't tell me this is how you deal with surviving through certain death." Jaune was a little impressed at the fact that Yang had barely flinched when she brought up the fact that they had kissed, noting in the back of his mind that he normally wouldn't have ever done that sort of thing with a straight face.
"Would it make any difference if I told you it did?" Jaune asked lowly, tilting his head to the side a little. Yang growled, eyes flashing red again, this time taking another second before it resided.
"No." Yang conceded. "It would still make you an asshole." Jaune laughed mockingly, raising his hands up.
"Oh my, sorry that I'm such an asshole then." Jaune said, before frowning. "Now, if that's the only thing you need to say, you can get out of my face." With that, Jaune stood up, brushing the seat of his pants, not even bothering to look at Yang anymore.
The brawler on the other hand, was starting to growl menacingly, eyes stuck in the blood red category as her fists clenched tight. Before either of them could say anything else, Yang delievered a mean hook that landed on Jaune's cheek, causing him to stagger a little to the right. Everything froze that at moment as Yang stared hard at Jaune, who had an expression of wide-eyed shock on his face.
Spitting out a little blood, Jaune stood up, the blood in his head rushing, rushing, rushing. "Yeah." Jaune said, nodding to himself, "I can work with this."
And then Jaune decked Yang right across the face.
The mirror of what had happened just a second ago occurred, Yang was caught off guard. Straightening up, she roared, diving in to deliver another blow to Jaune, who was standing at ready.
The both of them exchanged blows, all of them hard, heavy, and lacking any technique. Gone was the tactical mind that Jaune prided himself in, gone was the speed and finesse that came with Yang's legendary blows.
It was a fist fight, down and dirty, using the rules of the street to see who would come out on top.
Back and forth it went, as the two of them exchanged blows, so enraged that they didn't care what they were hitting, barely registering the pain that came when receiving a hit. They simply pummeled at each other with the intention of making the other drop.
Team RWBY and JNPR stood by in shock, staring at the messy brawl that was taking place in front of them. It was only at the urging of Ruby, who was the first to snap out of it, that they started to move, intent on intervening.
By that point however, the fight was almost finished, each blow weakening, both their faces bruised and bloody as their protective aura had left them a while ago. With one last blow from the each of them, they collapsed, heads next to each other.
Neither one of them said a word, panting heavily as they tried to catch their breath. Their teams stopped in their tracks, uncertain of what to do at that point, simply deciding to stand on the sidelines, ready to stop them if they decided to resume their punching bag practices on each other's faces. Everything was silent for a while, letting the two on the ground think.
"Sorry I was acting so stupid." Jaune was the first to speak, his voice a little hoarse. "The- the dragons that I absorb. They change me a little every time." Yang didn't comment on that, but certainly kept that in mind.
"You'll apologize to Pyrrha?" Jaune rolled his eyes at the question, noticing that even blinking was a little painful.
"I'm probably going to go on my knees and beg for forgiveness." Jaune was dryly, knowing that he did something inexcusable to the one person who supported him through hell and high water. Yang snorted at the comment, head rolling a little.
"… Was our kiss the same way?" Yang asked, not specifying what she meant by that. Jaune didn't have to ask though, knowing what she meant. He hesistated for a second, unsure of how to explain.
"Sort of. It was a spur of the moment thing but… I liked it." Jaune finally confessed, happy that the bruising on his cheeks would disguise any blushing that would happen. Yang didn't say anything for a while, keeping silent as she thought about things that Jaune could only guess at.
"Yeah." She finally spoke up. "I liked it too. You're not a bad kisser, Vomit-boy."
Jaune could only start laughing at that, no matter how much his bruised body complained.