RoseArc
submitted by: Guest (ch5)
"Become a hunter, they said" Jaune grumbled, hacking his way slowly through a cobwebbed corridor. "You'll be famous, they said. Glorious, they said. What a load of bull..."
The blond hunter hacked through some more cobwebs with unnecessary force, venting his frustration on the annoying masses of sticky thread. Jaune was a fully-fledged member of the Slayers of Beacon, an order of Hunters that that specialized in fighting the more humanesque demons, and he was currently having serious second thoughts about his choice of career. When he had signed up to train with Beacon, he had expected to be fighting alongside his fellow Hunters as they raided vampire covens and werewolf dens. What he had not expected was a message board, with requests posted by various people, and being required to make a certain amount of money each month in order to stay in Beacon.
Thus, in a last-minute bid to make this month's dues, he had taken a job to cleanse a mansion of any resident demons. According to the local rumors it had recently been inhabited by a vampire and his servants, and offered a correspondingly high reward. The mansion hadn't been too bad when he arrived, just a few recently-turned vampires that were too deeply into their bloodlust to fight properly. But that had been in the well-lit foyer. The farther he wandered into the mansion, the less light there was, and the more dangerous the servants had become. Only adding to his mental strain was the fact that he hadn't faced anyone in several minutes, even as he thoroughly explored the labyrinthine servants' quarters. His nerves were twitching, he really just wanted something, anything to appear so he could blow off some steam in a fight.
"HELLO?!" Jaune finally yelled, his voice echoing off the walls of a staircase that led both up and down. "ANY VAMPIRES IN HERE?! SUPPER'S READY!" He bashed his sword against his shield for effect, creating enough noise to wake the living dead, or so he hoped.
After a few moments, a draft of icy air blew down from upstairs, carrying the tones of insane laughter with it. Raggedly letting go of a breath he didn't know he was holding, Jaune took the stairs up two at a time, a relieved grin spreading across his face. The stairs ended in a simple door, which Jaune kicked down without hesitation, eager to get the whole affair over with. He now stood at the head of a great hall, with long tables and equally long benches arranged in rows for a nonexistent crowd of feasting revelers. The table just in front of him stood perpendicular to the others, and was the only one to have actual chairs for the guests. Quite obviously, it was for the lords and ladies of distinction who dined above their less-important guests.
"Done looking around?" a smooth, sarcastic voice asked, and Jaune took a step forward and spun around as he felt a hand close on his shoulder. A very pale man stood before him, sporting a bright white suit and with his orangish-red hair swept low over his right eye. Black gloves adorned his hands, and a cane swung nonchalantly from one of them.
"A vampire, I presume?" Jaune asked, raising his weapons.
"Indeed" the man replied, an unsettling look in his eyes as he closed the door Jaune had kicked in. "And you must be the Hunter that's been lurking around in my house? It was very amusing to watch you prowling through all those empty rooms. I hope you enjoyed the tension? The apprehension? The fear?" Jaune lashed out with his sword, intending to end the fight before it could even begin. His stroke was intercepted by the man's cane, and he kept right on talking as if he hadn't noticed the sudden attack.
"Yes, of course you did" the vampire stated. "Everyone who comes through here always says that Roman Torchwick is the master of suspense!" He twirled, swiping Jaune's sword away and striking at his head. Jaune hefted his shield and the blow rebounded harmlessly.
"Are you going to talk" Jaune asked, gritting his teeth in annoyance at the man's nonchalance. "Or are you going to fight?"
"Kids these days..." Torchwick mourned, sighing a little. "So impatient...to die!" He moved faster than the eye could follow, his cane singing around Jaune's ears as he pushed the Hunter back.
Jaune took most of the hits on his shield, deflecting the rest with his sword. He hooked a chair out with his leg as he backpedalled, sweeping it up and into Torchwick's side. The vampire grunted in surprise, and he stumbled back a step. That lapse in his guard was all Jaune needed, as he lunged forward shield first. Torchwick struck at Jaune, but his whole arm was swept away on the edge of Jaune's shield. Seeing that the vampire was still off-balance, Jaune allowed himself a small grin. Pushing his sword through the space recently vacated by his shield, he speared the vampire through the gut. Turning his lunge into a charge, he drove Torchwick back at an angle until the blade, emerging from the vampire's back, was firmly embedded in the stout oak of the table.
"You think that...uhgn!...this will kill me?" Torchwick taunted, pulling ineffectually at the sword in his gut as Jaune let go of the hilt and stepped back a pace.
"No" Jaune replied, striking Torchwick's wrist with the edge of his shield, forcing him to drop his cane. Reaching inside a pouch at his waist, he drew forth a stake made of green wood, prepared only minutes before he went inside the mansion. "But this will."
Planting a hand on the hilt of his sword, Jaune channeled his aura through the blade, burning Torchwick on the inside. As the vampire spasmed reflexively in pain, Jaune took his moment of opportunity to ram the stake through Torchwick's chest. A few seconds later, Torchwick was nothing but a small pile of ash on the floor.
"All talk..." Jaune muttered, wrenching his sword free of the table after a few attempts.
Sheathing his favorite weapon, he considered his options. Technically, since he had killed the master vampire of this mansion, all of his surviving servants and spawn would now be returning to the darkness from whence they came. So, if he felt like it, he could just make for the nearest exit and forget all about this place when his next job rolled around. Or, he could be a resourceful person and brave the cellars of the mansion in a search for abandoned gold or other valuables to fill his dangerously light purse. Sighing, he let his need for money win, and walked back down the staircase he had taken.
Passing the landing with the cobwebbed corridor, he continued down into the depths of the mansion. Quickly realizing that he could barely see in the utter blackness of the cellar, he drew his sword and flared his aura. The resulting white glow gave him just enough light to navigate by, though he did keep a lookout for any braziers or torches that he could light. The first room of the cellar had been stripped clean by the vampires, and had evidently been used as a living space for some of their lower-ranking members.
Jaune walked to the only door he could see and tried his luck in the next room. Again he was disappointed, as all he saw were endless floor-to-ceiling wine racks. Some had been emptied, others partially so, still others stood with a full selection of wine, still standing even after decades of neglect. Though he wasn't much of a drinker himself, Jaune still glanced over the labelled bottles and picked one that he felt was probably superior to the others. Renegotiating monthly dues was always easier when one came bearing gifts, after all.
After wandering for several minutes through the maze of wine racks, Jaune was almost ready to give up in disappointment. The only door he could find was the door that lead back to the first room, and thus back into the mansion. He glanced at the wines around him, wondering if their questionable monetary value was worth the effort of carting their weight back to Beacon. He had almost made the decision to pick several more bottles when he suddenly tripped over an unseen protrusion on the floor, falling with a comical grunt onto the floor. Cursing his poor balance, he looked back to see what he had tripped on. And smirked when he noticed the barely-perceptible rise of a handle in the floor.
Getting back on his feet, he wasted no time in pulling back the trapdoor, shining the light of his sword down into the hidden basement. Seeing a ladder and little else, he swung his legs down and gently gripped the sides of the ladder, letting gravity pull him down at a comfortable pace. Landing at the bottom, he hefted his glowing sword to shine the light as far as he could. What he saw sent shivers down his spine. It was a dungeon, complete with a rack, wheel, manacles embedded in the walls. Jaune felt no urge now to relight the few braziers that were present, seeing the long metal branding rods that still lay within them. He knew that no treasure would be hidden in a place such as this, and resolutely turned to climb the ladder, never to return.
Then he heard a pitiful whimper faintly echo from the surrounding darkness. He froze in his tracks, his ears straining to find out if he was imagining things. The whimper came again, louder this time, and accompanied by the clinking of chains. Turning back to face the dungeon, he stepped forward resolutely, his sword held aloft to maximize his vision. The whimpering led him to a corridor of cells, each more dilapidated than the last. Carefully stepping down the corridor, he glanced constantly to both sides, seeing empty cell after empty cell. The whimpering intensified as he drew closer to the end of the corridor, until finally he reached one cell that seemed to be somewhat well maintained.
Glancing through the bars, Jaune felt his body tensing in anger. Lying on the floor was a small, naked girl, a chained to the wall by a collar around her neck. She was curled into a ball as she tried to preserve her body heat, though her massive shivering clearly attested to her chill. Her hands were wrapped around her head, muffling her whimpers somewhat as she shook. Though Jaune would have felt a boiling rage at the situation no matter who was in that cell, in this case all he felt was a great sorrow. Curling around the girl's waist was a sad-looking, dirty tail, and peeking out from between her fingers were the tufts of ears. She was lycanthropic, and seeing as tonight was not a full moon, she had been both lucky and unlucky enough to contract the curse in a mild form. Lucky in that she had probably never been forced to transform against her will. Unlucky in that, even though such lycanthropes were proven to be harmless, they were still carriers of the curse and thus slain by Hunters with ruthless efficiency.
Jaune knew that it was his duty, especially as a member of Beacon, to kill this girl and be on his way. He tested the cell door, and found it to be unlocked. Pulling it open, he winced as the hinges let out a protracted squeal. The girl flinched, curling up tighter as her whimpers softened in fear. He was standing inside her cell now, his sword raised. All it would take was a single, clean stroke. He could kill a carrier of the curse and put an end to this girl's painful life in the same action. His hand shook as it was stayed by indecision. He looked closer at the girl. She was so harmless, so weak. Her shivering and whimpering state was pitiful to watch, and Jaune nearly averted his eyes before they landed on something else, something that hardened stilled his shaking fist with anger.
Scars. Long and short, jagged and curving, puncture and burn, all manner of scars were represented on the girl's back, all either fresh or barely healed. He knew that a lycanthrope's incredible capacity for physical recovery often led to them being abused by more powerful creatures of the night, but to see such an innocent girl in such a state made Jaune's blood burn. The last straw came when the girl shifted slightly, just enough to glance at Jaune with a pair of soulful silver eyes, eyes that shone with the fear of death as they snapped closed. The girl whimpered one last time before going silent, waiting for her end to come. Jaune readjusted his grip, taking a shuddering breath. This needed to end, now. Raising the sword slightly higher, he brought it down in a swift, clean arc.
The harsh scraping of metal going through metal briefly rang through the dungeon, and the girl flinched, slowly looking around. Jaune stood with his blade in one hand, the chain pulled taut in the other. Hefting the sword again, he struck another clean blow, splitting the weakened chain off from the wall. He stood with the end of it in his hand, still connected to the girl's collar. He glanced between it, the girl, and his sword several times. Sighing, he finally knelt a few feet away from the girl.
"Can...can you understand me?" Jaune asked, nervously readjusting his grip both on the chain and on his sword. The girl nodded, still curled into a ball.
"That's good..." Jaune replied, relieved. At least her mind wasn't gone. "You're probably pretty cold, right?" Again the girl nodded, her silver eyes confused but wary.
"I'm going to put the sword down now, alright?" Jaune informed her, slowly setting the glowing weapon against the floor. He kept the chain in hand just in case he needed something to control the girl, though he sincerely doubted he would at this point.
The girl made no move, and Jaune reached up to his throat with equal slowness, so as not to alarm her. He undid the brooch of the cloak that he wore, an old but comforting garment of faded red cloth. He gently offered it to the girl, who tentatively reached out to take it. Once Jaune was certain she had it in her grasp, he let go and slowly retracted his hand. The girl blinked at him, still holding the cloak at arm's length. Jaune smiled and nodded in encouragement, and she slowly drew the cloak to her. Feeling the soft, warm fabric against her dirty skin, she hurriedly threw it over her whole body, rolling into it and encasing herself in a small cocoon. She smiled a little as warmth began trickling back into her body.
"You like it that much, do you?" Jaune smirked, a warm glow forming in his own chest. The girl nodded a little more enthusiastically, then winced as the collar bit into her neck.
"I could get that off for you" Jaune offered, frowning at her pain.
The girl stared at him for several seconds, seeming to regret immobilizing herself inside the cape. Finally deciding that if he was planning to kill or torture her he would have done so already, she nodded slowly. Jaune let go of the chain and shuffled up next to her, lifting her dirty hair slightly as he examined the collar. It was old and somewhat rusted around the hinges, though it was still a very snug fit. Getting a firm grip on both sides of the hinged section, Jaune looked once more into the girl's eyes.
"This might hurt" he admitted apologetically. "On the count of three, okay?" The girl nodded, and Jaune began counting.
"One...Two...Three!" with a sharp jerk, Jaune snapped the collar in half.
Pulling the offending pieces of metal away from the girl's neck, he cast them aside with distaste. The girl whimpered again, rubbing the side of her chin against her neck while squirming slightly. Jaune reacted on instinct, lifting her head away and applying aura to heal the small wound that had been created, stemming the blood before it could truly begin to flow. he girl stiffened at the sudden contact, then relaxed as the warm glow of Jaune's aura soothed the brief flash of pain. She snuggled deeper into her cocoon, getting as warm and comfortable as she could.
Jaune sighed, knowing that sooner or later it would be time to go. He knew that he couldn't take the girl with him, just as he knew that he couldn't leave her here. He retrieved his sword, and carefully picked the girl up in his free arm. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to do with her, but he certainly wasn't going to leave her to face the world alone.
Warmth. Crackling logs. A soft glow before her lightly-shut eyelids. She tried to curl up, her habitual method of preserving body heat, but was stopped some constricting material. Suddenly panicked, she opened her eyes and was nearly blinded by the fire, thrashing about as she tried to tear herself free of the oppressive fabric around her. She succeeded in unravelling her prison, and she rolled across the ground, rising onto all fours to snarl at it. As her eyes adjusted to the firelight, she noticed several things. First, she had just broken out of a faded-red swath of warm fabric. Second, judging by the smell, she had been in there for several hours. Third, there was another bundle of fabric nearby, one that was slowly expanding and contracting as something breathed within it.
She carefully stalked towards this second bundle, her movements silent and swift. When she finally came close enough to get a good look at the bundle, she slowly relaxed. She recognized the messy shock of blond hair and pale face that stuck out at one end, he was the one who had broken her chains and let her out of that horrid cell. She glanced back at the faded-red cloak on the ground, a gift from the man. Knowing that was with a friend, she crawled back towards the cloak, missing its warmth despite the small fire. As she picked it up, she could smell both herself and the man on the cloak, their two scents melding into something that she found to be quite pleasing. Blushing a little, though she didn't know what for, she wrapped herself in the cloak, lay as close to the fire as she dared, and drifted off to sleep.
[One Year Later]
A dark-haired girl with wolf ears frolicked through a field of wheat, her red cloak streaming out behind her. She was checking each acre for signs of disease or blight, her powerful eyes able to observe each stalk of wheat even as she sped past. She was quite familiar with this field, having worked it from end to end with the help of her greatest friend, Jaune Arc. She paused in the middle of her frolicking to lift her cloak to her nose. Even halfway through the day she could still smell Jaune's scent, as it served as their dependable blanket at night. She blushed a little as the image of Jaune's wide grin filled her mind.
She thought over everything that had happened in the past year, the year that had changed her life irreversibly for the better. Jaune had quit his job as a Hunter, using money that he had saved up to buy a very small farm on the outskirts of Patch. They had worked the fields together, hunting game to put food on the table and roasting small nuts and roots when they could not. They had learned how to properly tend crops, scare off scavenging animals, and to accept that the weather was never in your favor when you needed it most. They had slept beneath the same blankets to share their warmth during the cold nights, growing slowly more comfortable with the idea as time went on. Jaune had held her close when nightmares of the past had threatened to overwhelm her, just as she held him when doubts plagued his mind and made sleep impossible.
"Ruby!" Jaune called, and she looked up to see that she had wandered back to their small cottage.
He was sitting in the doorway, a sickle in one hand and a whetstone in the other as he greeted her with a smile and a wave. Ruby waved back with enthusiasm, a massive grin filling her face. They had built a home together, and for all the imperfections of being poor, as long as she could have Jaune, she wouldn't have it any other way.
A/N:
To the guest from ch5, I hope you enjoyed your RoseArc :3 To Thatrandomdude, I'll see what I can do with crosshares/combat totes. As always guys, this story is 99% fan-driven. So, if you have an idea you want me to put down, by all means share via PM or review. Have a great week:)