The Beast

by Essiter1987

Everybody know about Ruby Rose and Yang Xiao Long's famous, or infamous, drunkle Qrow. But, what if Jaune had such a uncle. Watch the events of the show unfold as a new character interacts with the cast of RWBY. Canon-divergent, slow updates.

1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello to all who might be reading this, and for those of you who might recognize the name-Yes, I finally did it! My first story on Fanfiction (God help me I'm so nervous!)

I do hope that you like it. Please review and critic.

RWBY is own by Monty Oum and Roosterteeth

The character of Guillaume Arc was used with the permission of the owner, MahinaFable (for more on the specific version of this character, please read her story The Knight's Code)

The Characters of Vesta and Violet Merino were used with permission of the owner, ToastyAuthor (For more on these characters, just read their works.)

The Beast

Two weeks before Beacon Initiation

The morning started like any other as the sun shone down on the sleepy little town of Domremy. As the light shone down on the main entrance of the fortified town, the twin gates and portcullis opened up as a small merchant caravan left for the trade hub of Arcadia. The caravan had a small group of knights and Huntsmen escorting it. The difference between the two groups were noticeable, one side was uniform in armor and weaponry while the other was individually armed and colorful to boot in their attire.

Past this the road led up into the fortified town itself. Even now one could still see the signs of the former military outpost within the designs of many of the buildings. Already the local blacksmith, tanner and other various craftsmen were at work even as the local marketplace began to stir itself.

Eventually, the main road ended at the gates of the town's central keep. The official name for this building was the Chateau d'Arc, but most of the citizens simply called it the Arc Estate, home to generations of the Arc family. The estate was the local headquarters for the Knights of Vale, whereas the local headquarters for the Huntsmen Guild was in a large building to the Southwest of the Town Square.

Out in the courtyard below the main building of the estate were dozens of junior knights training, running drills at the pell, or sparring with each other using a wide variety of weaponry while senior knights watched over them. Pages and squires dashed to and fro between the various knights, carrying water, towels and other accoutrements.

Watching over it all was a large blond-haired man in twinkling, silver armor with a red and gold tabard over it.

The interior of the estate was painted in warm colors of reds and browns to maximize its "homeyness". Along many of the walls were portraits and paintings of various famous ancestors of the Arc lineage. Some of these portraits had the arms and armor of the previous owner mounted on the wall next to them. One was distinct from the rest due its missing weapon, and another had parts of its armor missing as well.

If one cared to noticed they would've not only been able to witness the history of the Arc clan throughout the various displays, but also the historical progression of arms and armor as carefully maintained suits leather armor transitioned through brigantine armor to eventually full-on, heavy plate mail. The weapons were much the same way. From simple sword and shield to the earliest examples of rifles and carbines to the very first generation of mechashift weapons.

/ /

To the back of the house sat the office of the local commander of the Knights. The current commander was one Sir Guillaume Arc, known as "The Marshal" to most, and "Gil" to family and friends. And, he was in a spot of trouble. Normally, such a problem could be easily rectified, either by himself or one of his brothers, but not this time.

No, he couldn't use family for this. Or, could he?

No, what the situation called for was a bit of subtlety. Something that he knew that his brothers, and sister, had in short supply, if at all. But he also couldn't use his authority as the Marshal and send in a team of knights or Huntsmen to take care of the matter either. It was a bit more delicate than that.

What he needed was outside help. From beyond his immediate family, but not necessarily outside the chain of command of the Knights . His chain of command.

What he needed was an outsider. A pariah, perhaps.

Luckily, he had just the thing.

A knock was heard at the door to his office. He growled out an order to enter as he drummed his fingers on his desk nervously while he continued to think things over. If he decided to do this, his son probably would hate him forever.

But, if it meant that he wouldn't get hurt? Wouldn't face what he and his family had over the years? Then, so be it.

He had done far worse things for Duty, for family.

A towering giant of a man entered the room then, donned in black plate armor, the faint gleam of reddish eyes glowed from within the full-face, bestial-shaped helm gave the only hint of life to the otherwise silent figure.

Gil swallowed as he took in the man before him. Though he was no slouch in size himself as he stood at an impressive 6'6 and weighted a good 220lbs outside of his armor, the man before him stood taller still at nearly seven feet in height and over three hundred pounds.

"Cruz," he boomed forth with false enthusiasm. "I'm glad you came so promptly. I'm in a spot of trouble, and I could use your help, heh."

There was a moment of silence before the newly named giant replied, "You called, Marshal. I answered. What do you need of me?"

The marshal grimaced at that and tapped at his desk a couple more times before hastily getting to his feet as anxiety took hold of him. He turned to the window facing outside where he could see the troop of juniors knights still sparring, and sighed as he thought to himself briefly if this was even worth it.

He so hated lying, even to his enemies.

"Yes," he started before pausing for a moment. "Yes," he started again. "I need you to take care of something in the City of Vale for me. It requires a bit of a delicate hand. And some subtlety."

He turned back to the armored man as he said, "I know that I can count on you for such a thing. You've never let the Knights down before. You've never let the Family down."

The giant nodded silently at the compliment then tilted his head to the side, much like a dog would, as he thought for a moment, then asked, "And you cannot take care of this matter yourself, Marshal?"

"I, sigh, well, yes, I could." Gil sighed in exasperation before he rubbed at his head aggressively for a moment, embarrassment and something very much like shame evident in his every move.

"Look," He stated emphatically. "The situation is… complicated. It's delicate, okay? I can't just go and do it myself. It would look bad for the Knights; for the Family as a whole if I did, actually."

"And, because of that, it is important that I don't." He looked up the man before him hesitantly before continuing.

"Elections are coming up soon. For the Vale Council." He gave by way of explanation. "You know how cutthroat the various Council members can be; not to mention, their respective parties. We cannot have anything come up that would ruin our party's chances in the elections. Without the aid of the Knights of Vale, or that of the Huntsman Guild, the party's candidacy has no chance of halting any advances from the likes of, say, the Winchester's party."

He shook his head as he said to himself, "All of the parties took a hit when that Lavender woman released her bombshell of information on the various news networks after the Vanilles died-Gods rest their souls!"

He shook his head again as he thought about that before spouting, "And, they still haven't found any signs of the Vanille girl even after all these years!"

He hadn't known that Jimmy had a child, but for her to disappear entirely… If something like that had ever happened to one of his children… It made him nauseous. And further strengthened his resolve for what needed to be done.

He sighed as he said to Cruz, "This situation, what's going on? It cannot be uncovered, you see. I am certain that our opponents would use it in some way to ruin everything we've worked for so far."

The man, Cruz, remained silent as he stood there contemplating that information before he snorted explosively and crossing his arms as he retorted sarcastically, "Oh? Burying secrets again, Arc? Well, it wouldn't be the first time that you've done such a thing. Now would it, Marshal?"

"Brock," Guillaume winced as he said the man's first name in protest with his arms raised. "Please. There are more important things to be done than give voice to old grievances."

He looked at the man imploringly as he said, "Now is not the time for such things, my friend."

After a moment more of somewhat stubborn silence the giant grunted irritably in agreement and looked away, his arms still crossed before replying sourly, "So, then, what is it that you want me to do, Marshal?"

Gil sighed again. This time in relief. Good. Maybe this wouldn't be so hard, after all. Cruz was too often stubborn beyond measure. He blamed his father for it. He, too, was a stubborn ass.

He paused for a moment then said, "I need you to go to Vale, and bring back my son."

There was an audible pause before the giant, Brock, asked, perplexed, "What, has he been kidnapped, or something?" He blinked in thought as he asked, "Why would anybody even do such a thing? The boy's perfectly harmless. And hardly some font of knowledge on the Knights or their Patrons."

Gil looked out the window again as he scratched at his head in embarrassment again as he answered, "Uh, well, it's s-something like that."

"Something like that?" Brock then asked, still confused before waving his hands between the two of them for clarification as he said, "Either it is, or is not.

He waited a moment for an answer before saying, "There is no in between, Marshall."

Gil said nothing while he continued to look out the window. Brock waited a moment more for an answer, before asking, "So, what is it, exactly? If you would, please."

Gil sighed explosively before he deadpanned as he turned back to face the imposing giant. "Jaune's been accepted by Beacon Academy. He'll be starting in a couple of weeks."

Brock blinked at that statement. And then, again. His eyes danced about for a moment as he tried to absorb what just happened, slowly, before finally stating, "Jaune's does not have that level of training."

Gil nodded and replied as he sat back down heavily, "Yes, I know."

"You never even trained him. Properly, that is. You and your brothers refused to do so, no matter how much he begged, even as you trained some of his sisters." Brock continued with more than a hint of an accusation in his tone.

Gil gritted his teeth as he hissed out, "Yes, I know."

Brock paused for a moment as he noticed the way Gil was glaring at him. "What?" he asked in confusion.

Guillaume rubbed at his face in an attempt to calm himself down before gritting out angrily, "Perhaps we could stop discussing the way I raise my children, Brock Cruz."

Brock felt his eye twitch at that tone. Really? He thought. Really? Okay.

He leaned towards Gil as he braced both hands on the man's desk. "What? Too much, boy?" He demanded with a hint of a feral grin in his tone. "Why should I stop? You're the one who regaled him with the stories and exploits of his grandfather as well as several other family members, yourself included."

He stood back up and recrossed his arms as he stated, "It's not like you lied to him and denied him at every turn, hmm? So, tell me, Guillaume, why should I stop?"

The Marshal stood then with a snarl and glared at him in silence, his hands twitching by his side to grab his sword. The only thing stopping him was the fact that as good of a warrior that he was, he was nothing in comparison to the man before him. That, and the fact that he was simply trying rile him up.

And it was working.

He seethed for a moment as he tried to hold himself back. Then he bellowed forth, "Don't talk to me as if you know anything, Cruz! The way I raise my family is not in question here!"

Then, with a flash of inspiration, he asking bitingly, "And just how is your daughter, anyway, hmm? Haven't heard from her in a while now, have we?"

Brock had been expecting a retort from Guillaume for the dig at his parenting, but he hadn't been expecting that. He blinked at the comment, his anger at the situation he found himself in momentarily dissipating, before his already red eyes seemed to glow even brighter with a brief arc of red lightning sparking behind the visor of his helm as he took a step towards the desk. "You dare?" He growled, his voice quivering with how much anger he was holding back, a finger raised menacingly.

Guillaume took a hasty step back at that, but otherwise did nothing as the two continued standoff against each other. They remained silent for a moment more before Gil finally huffed a breath of air and asked a bit irritably as he sat back down, "So, are you done?"

Cruz stood there in silence for a moment more before he seemed to shudder and, with an audible sigh, stood back in place. He crossed his arms and asked as the red glow in his eyes dimmed, "So, how did him make it in with zero training then?"

"I don't know," Gil replied, after a moment's thought. He scratched at his chin as he said, "You know that I didn't go to a Huntsmen Academy myself. I took the License Exam after apprenticing under Da and became an official Huntsman with the Guild soon afterwards."

He thought for a moment before saying, "I believe that he sent in a transcript. Which… got accepted, somehow? I don't know." Gil turned back to face the man before him and said,"That's why I need you to go to Vale and get him. There's still a chance we can get out of this without anyone finding out that he cheated his way into Beacon."

He shook his head in disbelief before slamming his fist down on his desktop. "Damn, but I don't know what that boy was thinking?! Regardless of the political fallout, if this somehow gets discovered the boy could very well be brought up on charges. He could be arrested for a felony. Or something worse could happen to him."

He jolted to his feet, the chair slamming onto the floor as he shouted, "Aargh, Damnit! This isn't some stupid little excursion into the woods. O-or some other little bit of teen rebellion. These are Huntsmen we're talking about! They take things like this seriously! And, once again, Jaune's is just mucking things up again." He leaned against his desk and shook his head again.

"We found out about it after his Acceptance letter came in the mail." He said without looking up. "When he received the letter, there was a bit of a… kerfuffle, between us, him and his mother and I, once we found out." He shook his head at that understatement. "He left for Vale right after. Took Crocea Mors, that old relic of a sword and shield with him, and some piecemeal armor of Charlemagne's when he was younger with him when he did."

He sat back down with a sigh and rubbed at his head and face as he stated, "He left yesterday. Been besides myself trying to come up with some kind of a plan to get him back home ever since."

The black-armored giant remained silent throughout the explanation, being deep in thought himself. As Gil quieted down he finally nodded to himself before asking, "And, why can't your brothers, or Rhea, go, again?"

Gil gave him a pain-filled smirk as he answered, "Come on, Brock. You know the answer to that. Bors and Gawain would charge into Vale with a full company of knights as soon as they became aware of the situation. They'd make a big to-do about getting him back. Get all the news channels involved, somehow."

"Certainty not very subtle, those two. They'd only make things worse," He chuckled halfheartedly at that, remembering other times that his brothers had done such a stunt.

"And Rhea," he said before stopping and looking down and shook his head gently as he said, "Ray-ray would've done everything in her power to train Jaune to be the very best he could be, if not for me. I know she resents me for that, like him. It got her on his bad side, after all. But it was for his protection, for his safety, and she could never see that.

"She would mostly likely do everything in her power to help him instead in the time that he has left before the semester begins after she learned about what happened." He smiled as he looked up at Cruz and said, "She loves the boy as if he were her own, you know?"

Then he frowned as he continued with, "Always wished that she had had a happier marriage than what happened between her and Kronos. It's why I hate arranged marriages. Refused any for my girls even though it cost us support at the time."

Brock nodded in agreement. He remembered what had happened, and he agreed. At least, Rhea had gotten her due in the end. And that bastard was now six-feet under the ground.

He sighed and shook his head again before he asked, "So, why me then?"

Gil looked at him defensively for a moment and clenched his fist tightly before sighing and unclenching it again. He rubbed at his face in exhaustion. "You know," he said heavily. "You make things much harder than they need to be, Brock."

The armored giant merely shrugged at that, but said nothing in response. After all, he agreed. And, he had made an Oath to never lie.

Gil sighed again. "I am asking you, Brock Cruz, because you are the only one I can trust to get this done without mucking things up. I have no other choice. No other option." He blew a breath out through his nose before asking, "Will you do this for me? Will you please bring my son back home?"

The giant was silent for a moment as he contemplated on what to do before shifting to speak.

/ /

Thirty minutes later…

The door to Guillaume Arc's office slammed open and the armored giant that was Brock Cruz stalked out in a rage as the Marshal bellowed angrily behind him, "Damn it! Get back here, Cruz!"

The armored warrior stalked through the halls for some time before finally coming to a stop before the portrait of Jeanne d'Arc, the matriarch and founder of the Arc lineage. He stood there for a moment, looking up at the long dead woman's portrait, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

After a moment he calmed down and doffed his headgear to rub at his face wearily, wonder as ever why he even tried with the man. He took a cigar from out of his pocket and went to light it with a match only to pause just before he did so as he remembered his most recent promise to his daughter.

He groaned aloud and sighed as he waved his hand to snuffed the match out. He then leaned against the wall with a brief, but loud clang of metal and just sighed in defeat, slumping. Sometimes, it sucked that his family's motto was all about keeping promises.

"Uncle Cruz!"

As a small, feminine voice rang out suddenly in the hall Brock found his left leg enveloped-with an equally loud clang-by a small human girl with dark blond hair and shining blue eyes. "Hi!" She said, looking up at him. "What are you doing here?! Are you here to bring back my big brother?! Please, say yes! Please, please, please!"

Brock looked down at the small girl while she spoke, blinking in momentary surprise at the address, as always, before trying to decipher her rapid delivery of speech. After a moment he did so, he chuckled at her antics before smiling at her silently. But, before he could say anything in response to inquiries, he looked up at the sound of clicking heels.

From around the corner came one Isabella Arc, wife to Guillaume and mother to his current predicament. She was looking a bit frazzled, too.

"Violette! Where did you run off to, you silly-Oh, Mr Cruz! So good to see you," the older blond-haired woman said warmly as her blue eyes widened in surprise at his appearance, before she wandered over to standing before him. Behind her two more of the Arc children followed, both girls, twins, in slightly different blue-shaded sundresses, with blond hair and blue eyes like their parents and siblings.

Brock always did wondered at how strong the Arc genes were that all their children seemed to those features… No matter the parentage.

"Did your meeting with the Marshal go well?" Isabella asked him, tearing him from his inner thoughts.

Brock blinked in apparent confusion at the question before refocusing, an issue he had had ever since he'd taken a bad hit to the head years ago. Around the time that his Semblance had first activated, now that he thought about it.

He shook his head and, with a deft swoop of his large, armor-clad hand, grasped at the young girl wrapped around his ankle, scooping her up into his arm much like a small dog. She giggled at him as he did so.

He smiled again at that before handing her over, gently, to the awaiting arms of her mother as he replied. "About as well as can be expected with that one, ma'am. No matter how hard we try, the two of us just can't seem to have a decent conversation with each other without it coming to… bl-words."

He said the last as he glanced over at the children before looking back towards their mother. "Gil wanted me to go and get your son back. Preferably, before he ruins the family's name by his actions."

Isabella winced at that before smiling sadly at him while hefting the girl in her arms. "Yes, well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that. But, well, yes." She looked over at her daughters for a moment, giving them each a small, encouraging smile, before turning back and giving him a questioning look of concern as she asked. "And? What was your answer? Will you be bringing my son back home?"

Brock looked at her silently for a moment as he weighed his answer before replying with a simple, "No."

"Brock," she said with a sudden pleading look.

"No," he started, stopping her from making an argument. He shrugged defensively with sudden embarrassment as he said, "That boy of yours deserves a chance to succeed at least once in his life, Izzy. It's true, that he doesn't have much training. I'll not argue that. But, then again, there's a reason for that, isn't there?"

Isabella looked away from him then with sudden embarrassment and shame at the dig before collecting herself as she said, "You may lay those accusations at my feet all day, if you want, Brock Cruz. But you weren't there when he got sick. You didn't almost lose your son to something that you couldn't fight back against! I'll not stand here and take those false accusations without fighting back. And, unlike my husband, I play dirty."

She glared at him then as she continued, "I know that what my husband and his brothers have done to you is inexcusable. I know that it hurts you every time you look at us and realize that you'll only ever be allowed to look in from afar, at least until Gil changes his mind. But, that does not mean that you get to take it out on me!"

Brock flinched at that. Then he sighed in defeat, the last of his anger with the Marshal fading away as he nodded and raised his hand placatingly. " I'm sorry, Izzy. That was wrong of me. You're right, as always. That, that was going too far on my end. And, I know. I wasn't here for any of that. For anything, really."

He shrugged his shoulders as he looked away looking much like a dog that had been scolded. "Not that I would've been much help back then, anyway." He looked back at her as he said, "Was, going through a few things myself then."

Isabella sighed as she looked at him, her sudden anger gone just like that as she said tristfully, "I know. And for that I am immensely sorry, my friend."

He shook his head to clear away the memories of that time before telling her resolutely, "I'll not ruin this for him, Isabella. Nor let anyone else. He'll either succeed, or he'll fail. Either way he'll at least have done something for once.

"Or he won't." He said, with a shrug.

Isabella frowned at that but said nothing to it. The girls with looked between the two of them as they awaited the resolution to this… discussion?

Then, after he thought about it for a moment, Cruz asked her, "Just what did you say to Jaune, when you found out about this, anyway?"

Once more one of the boy's parent looked away from him in utter embarrassment. She coughed delicately in one hand before replying, while still looking away, "I said, that if things didn't work out, he could always come home."

Brock's shoulders slumped in defeat again as he interjected, "Izzy! Wha-that is horrible advise to give a child."

"I know!" She returned before coughing again and brushed a bit of imaginary dust off her emerald gown as she said, "I know. But I couldn't think of anything else to say that was really encouraging at the time."

"Besides," she said as she glanced at him. "I didn't want him to go. I still don't. Anything could happen to him while we're not there. He could get hurt. He could get sick. And I wouldn't be there to help!"

Brock groaned aloud at that before face-palming and saying through his hand in despair, "Izzy, he's not a child anymore. Come on. This beyond Empty-Nest syndrome. I could at least understand with how you felt when it came to Saphron. But this… This is ridiculous."

"What? Why?" Isabella Arc asked defensively with her hands-and little Violette-on her hips. "You said it. He has no training, and I don't want him to get hurt trying to do something so foolish. It's not like he's running off to go camping in the woods by himself, again, after all!"

"Ugh, I said a little training, Izzy. A little! What, what do you want from me? A promise to go and watch over him or something?" Brock asked in despair at the ridiculousness the elder Arcs had around their children. If it wasn't Bors charging into an elementary school to challenge the first friend his daughter had made to a duel, then it was something like this.

Although, the duel was far worse, especially as the boy had won. They still debate on how that had happened.

Isabella immediately perked up at that. Brock flinched as he realized what he had said. He groaned aloud as he saw the smile starting to light up her face.

"Now, hold on," he began.

"Exactly!" She yelled gleefully, then coughed with embarrassment after looking at her daughters, before she shifted her face into one of a more serious mood. She placed a hand on her chest as she beseeched him, "Please, Brock. As a friend, my friend. Will you watch over my son and make certain he doesn't come to harm?"

He looked through his fingers at her briefly. The look in her eyes. He could do nothing against that look! His shoulders slumped as he glanced towards the ceiling before sighing aloud as he replied with a finger raised, "I'll not promise to bringing him home. I already said that I wouldn't do that, Isabella."

"Right. Yes. I understand. But can you promise to at least keep him safe? To watch out for him while he's there?" Isabella asked him again, this time with a small smile on her face that he couldn't see.

"Yes. Fine." Brock immediately responded, his patience at an end with the overzealous Arc Matriarch, even though she was more a friend to him than nearly anyone else in the village, the rest of her family included. "But, no more, understood?"

"Good. Well, um, I guess I'll go now. I'll hear from you soon, yes?" Isabella replied as she immediately started away, leading her daughters behind her. In a somewhat smug manner he noted. The girls, too, as they began to giggle at each other before finally waving at him in goodbye as they left.

Brock realized then that he had been had, somewhat. Once again, his friend had gotten one over him. The woman had planned for just that outcome. Her seemingly frazzled demeanor and fear of her son's fate was real, true, but, he had played, just the same.

Clever.

He grinned and shook his head at that before chuckling to himself in self-deprecation. Ah, well. That's what happened when your friends knew about the family's motto, too.

He was going to go to Vale, anyway. This only made the journey a bit more… official? He guessed. Maybe he'd make a job of it.

He snorted and laughed at that before he headed out.

/ /

As he made his way out of Domremy, a scowl on his face once more at the rain that threatened to begin at any time, Brock came across a few of the village children at play. The scattering of humans and Faunus children paused in their play as he stalked past by in his heavy, black plate armor, his black and red cape billowing behind him in the wind, the handle of a massive sword rising over his right shoulder.

One of the children whispered loudly to his friend, a small tawny-haired boy with white dog ears. "That's the Black Knight, Kade! He's the only knight in the whole town who's also a Huntsman. He's so cool!"

"What?!" The dog-eared boy yelled in surprise. If he had had a tail instead it would have been wagging in excitement. "They can do that?! Is that allowed?!"

"Yeah!" Shouted one of the girls standing around behind the two, her previously white petticoat dirty from playing. "My daddy says he's the strongest warrior in the whole village.'Sides the Marshall, and his brothers, that is."

"So cool!" The two kids shouted before giggling as they started playing with each other again.

Brock continued on, but with a smile hidden under his helm this time.

/ /

Several hours later, Beacon landing pad, Beta…

Glynda Goodwitch was not a woman known for patience, humor or leniency. She took her job as a Huntress, and a teacher, seriously. And many in the Huntsman Guild found her to be outright terrifying, in point of fact! But, all could agree with her level of professionalism and sincere belief in what they did for a living.

As a part of that creed she was as equally protectiveness of her students lives as she was of the common citizens, even if she did wish that they would take their schooling just a bit more seriously at times.

So, when word came down from the ground crew at the Beacon Landing Strip that an unknown man in armor was acting strangely around the landing pad she had made her way over to see what was going.

However, upon encountering the man, she felt that someone might've… overreacted.

The strange man appeared to be unwell. He was crouching before one of the landing pad waste bins, muttering and groaning to himself, his heavy black cloak obscuring all but the handle of the massive sword on his back.

Glynda sighed at the display before holstering her weapon, a riding crop called The Disciplinarian that she used more as a focusing tool for her Telekinesis Semblance than anything else, before taking out the Scroll tablet she carried everywhere she went in both hands as she walked over to him.

"Sir?" she inquired. "Are you well? Do you need medical aid?"

The man grunted a near-inaudible negative at her before he dry heaved for a moment. He gasped for breath for a moment more before he finally attempted to speak. "Urgh. N-no, no, lass. It's, uh, urgh-Oh, Maidens!-uugh, oh. It's just a, uh, uh, f-family curse. M-motion sickness. Had it for years. I-I'll be right as rain in a m-moment. Uurgh."

Glynda was instantly at his side. She had met a few Huntsmen and Huntresses over the years with the condition, in varying degrees of severity, and knew the condition was no real laughing matter. Imagine having to face anyone of importance-say a village elder-after having such a episode upon first meeting them and then try make them feel any sort of sense of confidence in you.

A Huntsmen was suppose to put the people at ease by their presence alone. One couldn't very well do that if they're throwing up all over the place after a mere car ride, now could they?

Not to mention the potential wardrobe malfunction, like say getting covered in a friend's lunch. As she had, once upon a time. They didn't talk about it. "Oh, but did you take any medication before the way up, sir?" she asked, concerned for him. "Or, perhaps do the specific Aura technique for dizziness and nausea?"

"A-aye, Lass. Aye." The man replied as he continued to struggle with the aftereffects of his condition. The unmistakable sound of his stomach gurgling could be heard as he shivered for a bit. "I did both! N-Neither worked this time." He said harshly while trying to hold back more vomit. "Urgh, i-it happens. From, from time to time. OooOOohh. Herk. Blergh." With a small retching sound, the man finally lost the battle and barfed into his hands and the bin. He retched silently for a moment, clutching at his mouth beneath his helm. He shuddered and retched again before wiping at his mouth and standing up, slowly.

He seemed to sigh wearily as he looked at the mess before him as he took out a small Water Dust crystal and a couple grey handkerchiefs with his emblem on them. With the swift motions of a man used to this kind of situation he used his Aura to activate the crystal, causing the clothes to dampen. Then he deftly cleaned up the mess on his hands, and the landing pad, before finally doffing the whole lot into the waste bin before him and sighed.

Afterwards, he took a couple of mints he had in a pocket, popped them in his mouth and chewed them up thoroughly before swallowing them cold turkey. Glynda tried not to wince at the pain his throat was probably in while doing that, even as the man made no sounds of discomfort.

He sighed again while shaking his head before turning towards her and smiling encouragingly from under his helm, a faint red flush of embarrassment to his face still. "Sorry about all that… Mademoiselle. That was terribly inconvenient of me. Should've realized that there was only one way to get up here in a hurry.

"I am better now; no worries."

He offered up a massive paw of a hand as he introduced himself, "Brock Cruz. Former Huntsman and man-at-arms to the Knights of Vale, ma'am. And you are?"

"Oh," Glynda said in response to his actual height as she looked up and up at him towering there only to see his starling red eyes and just the hint of a dirty blond beard beneath his helm as well as the whites of his smile shining through. She was a tall woman herself at six feet in height, though that was with heels, but even in heels this man simply loomed over her. "Oh," she said again, a faint bit of warmth coming up her neck and face as she stared.

He then tilted his head much like a dog would as she continued to stand there without so much as taking his hand. He asked, concerned, "Mademoiselle?"

Glynda suddenly flushed deeply, embarrassed, as she realized what she was doing. She shook her head to refocus as she took hold of his armored hand.

"Ahem, excuse me." she said as she gave his hand a quick, firm shake of the wrist-Oh, my! Quite the grip there! Shush you! She thought to herself. Then she took her Scroll tablet in both hands again and, using it as a mask to hide her embarrassment behind, began to looked up the day's schedule while asking, "So, sir, might I inquire as to your reason for coming to Beacon Academy so unannounced? I do hope that there's not an emergency?

"We've had quite a few recently. It's why so few of our seniors are currently here." She asked the last with her head cocked to the side, her blue eyes suddenly hard behind the shadow of her glasses as her professional demeanor once more took over.

"Ach, no, Mademoiselle," the man drawled gently, a touch of the Southern Provinces in his inflections. Glynda felt another unbecoming flush starting to appear at the address before she viciously squashed it. While there weren't many left who still knew and spoke Old Valean, and of those that did, they were usually some form of linguist or archeologist, like Dr. Oobleck, there was no reason for her to react like this.

Even if she did have a bit of an attraction for men on the taller, larger side of the scale like Huntsmen like James or Oz-

She blinked at that thought as it made itself know before mentally shaking her head and focusing on the man before her once more as he continued. "I am simply here in regards to one of your applications. Might you show me the way to the Headmaster's office, uh… Forgive me, Mademoiselle. I've yet to catch the name?"

"Glynda. Glynda Goodwitch." She said quickly. Too quickly. She then cursed under her breath at that. She was a grown woman, damnit. A professional Huntress, and a professor at Beacon Academy to boot, not some schoolgirl with her first crush.

This was embarrassing. Ridiculous even. She sighed before unconsciously shifting her tight, black pencil skirt. Failing to note the sudden shift in his gaze before it returned to her face.

He must be here to apply for the opening we've had listed. Been a while since someone applied for it. She thought to herself.

As she thought about that for a moment, an intrusive thought filtered through to say. If the Headmaster hired him… I'll see him every day.

She blushed at that before coughing into her hand to hide her embarrassment once more as she used the Scroll tablet to send a quick message to the Headmaster on the sudden meeting. After waiting a moment for his replied she nodded to the Huntsman, Cruz, before turning to show him the way.

"I-if you would follow me, sir." She flinched as she stuttered and swiftly stalking away.

"Certainly," he drawled as he started after her, easily catching up to her long strides. She sighed to herself as they began to walk, hoping that she wouldn't embarrass herself further with the man.

/ /

After a while of walking together in a surprisingly companionable silence, Glynda felt the need to make conversation again. If only so that she might better see if he'd make a good fit among the rest of the staff. It wasn't because she wanted to get to know him better.

Not at all!

She had asked as to his former career as a Huntsman and his reasons for quitting as well as while he wanted back in now. And, while his answers to quitting were reasonable and understandable, such as having a family to raise and growing weary from all the constant fighting, they also seemed too… rehearse, too static. His tone, too flat. Like he had used those same responses so many times before to care if they sounded right anymore.

And as for his reason in returning to the life his only answer had been, "A promise." He had refused to elaborate.

How odd.

"So, what do you do currently, sir, since you've stopped being a Huntsman?" she asked as she led him through the various halls and corridors of the academy's campus, pointing out things like Oobleck's History Classroom or Port's Grimm Studies. He made appropriate sounds of appeasement as he followed along silently

"Are you a part of the local militia or have you taken up some other profession?" she continued while they walked by Professors Ann Greene, the Professor of Stealth and Security, and Harold Mulberry, the Professor of Weapon Crafting and Upkeep. She gave the two a nod of acknowledgement which they returned as they continued their own discussion.

"Well," he started. "I'm not really working at the moment, professionally. Though I do help out with the Knights of Vale, from time to time. Patrolling alongside them down in Arcadia, Ansel and the other, smaller villages around the Vacuo-Vale border. Training the men and the like. Providing an additional hand at times.

"I'm paid for it." he continued, somewhat stiffly she noted. "For the services. That is."

After that they fell into a somewhat quieter silence than before. Glynda could almost feel a sense of melancholy, and pain, from the man. She didn't know what to do about that. Things had been going so great with the informal interview, and now this.

The sudden silence was oppressive, to say the least.

After trying to think of some way to get things back on track she asked, "So, you work with the Knights of Vale? Very impressive. They may not be as skilled as Huntsmen are, but they're certainly as brave. Not just anyone can fight the Creatures of Grimm. Tell me what training do you offer them?"

The man remained silent, perhaps deep in thought.

Glynda frowned at that then thought for a moment before asking, "Tell me, sir, is it a skill you've picked up over the years on how to pick up the ladies? Or is that merely your Semblance working? You simply scream 'The tall,dark, and silent type'."

Her lighthearted, though clearly inappropriate jab was made quickly. Too quickly. She felt immediate embarrassment at saying it, her face flushing as she continued to walk straight ahead without looking back at him. All to sale the moment.

She kept her fingers crossed that it was the right thing to do.

There was a pregnant pause before she was thankfully met with the sudden bark of laughter from the armored former Huntsman. He chuckled for a moment more before he said with clear amusement, "No, not all, Lass. That's all skill. Every bit of it."

He sighed, before apologizing to her, saying, "Sorry 'bout that, Lass. Not normally so… uh?"

"Rude? Sullen?" she offered briskly before smiling at him as she said. "Inappropriately staring at my ass?"

"No!" he responded quickly, before repeating quietly. "No. Merely… contemplative. Got a bit lost in my mind there. Lots of… memories trying to break through at the moment."

"Oh," Glynda said softly, understanding. "Well, I accept your apology then."

He nodded at her. Then he shot back with, "And what of you, Lass? Are you always so flirtatious with strange men that you've just met?"

Glynda felt a laugh of her own come out at that. She chuckled for a moment, more giggled into a fist, really, before she smiled to herself. Proud that she had gotten him to open back up so easily. It was certainly harder to get anything out James when he got to brooding. Or, Ozpin, when he became contemplative himself.

They walked on in companionable silence for a bit before she finally addressed his question, once more over her shoulder, this time with a toss of her own blond hair, "Actually, no. I'm rather more professional than this, usually. Perhaps it's just your imagination, sir?"

He smirked at that before saying with an exaggerated drawl, "True. True. One shouldn't presume. And it's Cruz, Mademoiselle Goodwitch."

Glynda blushed at that before shaking her head fondly, already liking the man. "Well, Mr. Cruz. It's actually Deputy Headmistress to you. Especially if you end up being hired. And, speaking of which, we, are here." She said as she stopped by the elevator within Beacon Tower.

The armored Huntsman looked about the interior of the tower's base for a moment, seeing the various electronics and austere furnishing present before simply stating, "Fancy." Then he turned to her and asked coyly, "Will you be joining me, Deputy Headmistress?"

Glynda smiled at that, but shook her head. "'Fraid not, sir. You're on your on now." She then turned and left without looking back, smiling all the way, only saying over her shoulder, "Good luck the interview."

Doing so, she failed to see his look of confusion.

/ /

"Interview?" Brock asked in confusion before shaking his head. He had no idea what the young lady meant by that. Just one more thing to ask the man upstairs, he supposed.

Was that why she kept asking him all those questions? Honestly thought that it was that she was grilling him for answers for some reason. Would've answered a bit more freely if he had known otherwise.

Didn't even know that they were hiring right now.

Maybe he could use that as an in?

No. He shook his head. Better to be honest he thought.

Quietly, he flexed and popped his neck and shoulders before stepping into the elevator and taking it to the top floor.

Time to get this over with.

/ /

In Beacon Tower,

Fifteen to twenty minutes earlier

The sounds of papers rustling could be heard faintly over the gentle sound of quietly cranking of gears overhead as the Headmaster of Beacon Academy looked over the various forms on his desk.

Ozpin sighed as he read over yet another one of the dozens of transcripts and applications that lay on his desk, in addition to various other complaints and field reports from among the operational members of the Huntsmen Guild, before taking a sip from the hot cocoa he had at his side. Things had been relatively peaceful here in Vale over the last few years, but that didn't mean that he should lower his guard.

The role of a Huntsman was never-ending. Grimm were always an issue, and with the recent rise in attacks from the likes of the White Fang and Silver Bullet Brotherhood, the Guild needed even more personnel than ever. Especially to fill in the ranks made from losses, retirements and dismissals that seemed to happen every year.

He sighed again as he looked over a report-read complaint-made by a local village elder after one of his student teams effectively destroyed his house in their attempt at felling the Grimm threatening his village. Really, the man should've been happy with the lack of damage to the village itself. There wasn't much one could do to fell an Alpha Goliath hellbent on a rampage, short saturation bombing, especially for a team of third-years.

Ozpin would inevitably get him to calm down with a mixture of monetary compensation and possible blackmail-the man was a crook and a thief what with overtaxing his constituents alongside a penchant for hiring under-aged call girls for one-nigh-stands. Dirty, disgusting individual, but he had paid the Guild for its services, so, what was Oz to do?

Politics. Never so clear cut as they appeared he thought as he read over the report once more, comparing it to the one made by the team's leader for inconsistencies. He frowned as he made a note to flag it for Glynda to attend to, seems that the Elder would be requiring that blackmail after all. Pity.

Then he sighed as he put it down before taking up another report.

In all the years of his many, many lifetimes there was one thing, one constant that Ozpin could say was true for all of them. Paperwork was an evil, evil thing.

He chuckled to himself as he thought about that before grimacing. He sighed then. And there was simply far too much of it today.

Maybe he'd go for a walk about the academy grounds. Get some sun, stretch his legs-

Bing!

He pause as he was pulled from his thoughts before looking at his scroll. Now what could this be. Hopefully not another message from his representative with the Council. He swore if he had known making the Headmaster of an academy an automatic Council member was going to be so frustrating at times he'd never would have done it-Oh, it was a message from Glynda.

He brought up the message and read it before quirking his left eyebrow. It read: Heads-up. Potential new hire incoming.

Now that was odd. Not the potential instructor was arriving. That happened all the time.

Some semi-retired or injured Huntsmen or Huntresses would occasionally show up as temporary instructors and stay on for a term or two, hoping for a reprieve from their duties out in the field before heading back out rested and ready to go again.

It was nice change of pace and allowed the students that year to learn from a different perspective. Some of those Huntsmen even returned occasionally to teach as guest instructors later on.

His personal favorite of those was one Sod Brown. An expert in hunting Subterranean Grimm and a short man of utterly plain demeanor and appearance who in turn had one of the most powerful Semblances around. After all, it wasn't every day that you met someone who could make the earth shake just by stamping on it.

He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes before returning to the myriad of forms on his desk. Times like this made him wonder yet again at how much paperwork he left behind during his first lifetime? True, as a "Hero of Justice" he himself had never really had to do any, but what about those he left behind? Those whose homes and lives he had inevitably changed?

He had simply traveled from place to place enacting justice as he saw fit and freeing those who couldn't save themselves on their own, like her.

He paused at that as he remembered his part in that story, once again. It hit him every now and then, when he had a free moment for it, he supposed.

Or waxed nostalgic.

Had she always been that way, or had she only gone down the wrong path after he died the first time. Had he caused Salem to fall in the first place? Or had she always been so manipulative, vindictive?

Even now, he just didn't know. At this point it had long since past any chance of redemption, of reconciliation, between the two of them. And though he still felt the pain of losing their daughters he knew that they were, at least, in a better place, unlike him.

He sighed again before taking a long, slow sip from his ever-present mug. He smiled as he finished the coco before pouring himself more from the pot next to him. Contrary to popular opinion, he drank hot coco, not coffee or even booze. Though, he did have some top-notch scotch for the occasional toast amongst friends.

These days he found that he quite enjoy the small pleasure of the bittersweet taste of dark chocolate even more so. Life, no matter what incarnation, was stressful enough. Better to enjoy the small things when you could.

He looked back down at the pile of paperwork before him again afterwards, all of them reports of potential Grimm incursions, or other threats like bandits. He sighed again, this time sadly. So many needed help, and yet there was so little that he could do. Even now, his Huntsmen were stretched thin, overworking to fill in the gaps made the losses suffered at The Fall of Mountain Glen ten years ago.

And that was just run-of-the-mill Huntsmen and Huntresses. His Agents were also hard pressed with work these days.

He currently had Qrow on the lookout for Amber's return. As much as he trusted the young woman she was still new to being a Maiden, naive and under-trained after her predecessor passed before finishing her training.

And he was feeling a bit uneasy with the situation in Kuchinashi. Leonardo hadn't been answering his calls recently, and he had heard some interesting rumors out of there from among the Mistrali Branch of the Guild. Maybe after Amber returned he'd send in Qrow to look at things.

Or, maybe he'd use that group of independent Huntsmen that Qrow had talked up from last time. What was their leader's name again? Oh, yes. Arrastra, Arrastra Skye.

He sighed and shook his head. So many issues going on lately.

There was that Mistrali hooligan, Roman Torchwick, starting up trouble again with a new series of heists. This time he was going after the Dust market. He had already had to placate the rest of the Vale City Council by stating that he would increase Huntsmen patrols around the city.

In fact, Glynda would be going on one later tonight.

Then there were the strange reports out in the Emerald Forest. Someone seemed to be messing with the sensors out there. The very ones in place to watch for Grimm Incursions. Why anyone would want to disrupt the Sensor Grid, he didn't know.

But, he would resolve it. One way or another.

Still, an easy fix.

He'd have Port look into it while he cleared the woods before Initiation. Potential students burning down the forest was one thing, they didn't need any surprises like what had happened with poor Gretchen Rainart. And the consequences of it.

Hazel Rainart hadn't been since the fight they had had afterwards. One he had almost lost.

He shook his head at that as he read through a few more or the reports. At least, this year's crop of first years was looking to be quite impressive already.

Not only were there several students graduating from Signal and Pharos this year that were hoping to make it in, like Yang Xiao Long, daughter of an old friend and former compatriot, but he also had it on good authority that Glynda's niece was attending this year. Vesta Goodwitch was already an impressive student of Aura control and a true Dust Mage, courtesy of being trained by her aunt, personally.

Then there were the unexpected inclusions from outside of Vale like Cobalt Lazuli, a Valean Knight Initiative trained by his Mother, Aurum, herself a notable example of that esteemed order, and the likes of Pyrrha Nikos from Sanctum Academy in Argus, a former four time Champion of the Mistral Tournament, and Weiss Schnee, Heiress of the Schnee Dust Company, who was coming from Atlas.

He smiled at that. Those four alone, and Vesta Goodwitch, would make for an interesting year alone.

But his good luck hadn't stopped there as Blake Belladonna, Daughter of Ghira and Kali Belladonna, had sent in an application to attend his school. He had been keeping an eye out her ever since he had heard rumors of a Faunus matching her description among the local White Fang groups, more as a way to avoid any confrontation between the White Fang and Silver Bullet Brotherhood from getting out of hand, should members of that "Pro-Human" group find out who she is.

He frowned. Already the two sides had engaged in several minor confrontations. Ones that had already injured several bystanders and caused considerable property damage to local businesses. The Council was on his back about that, too, as they were with the local police and militias.

He didn't know why Miss Belladonna had decided to renounce the White Fang. From everything he had learned of her, and her family, her commitment to the Faunus and their rights was unshakable. Whatever had happened must have been truly serious indeed. He would have to keep an eye on her during her time at Beacon, to ensure that there was nothing… nefarious going on behind the scenes.

After all, it wouldn't be the first time a group radically opposed to the Huntsmen Guild, and the Academies, had attempted to infiltrate one. Like the Branwen Tribe. Although, that had largely ended up in his favor, for a time.

He sighed as he rubbed at his eyes. That, had been a bit of a shock, to be fair. Even though he had known why they were there in the first place. He just wished that things had ended up differently with Raven. Would have been good to have her at his side like her brother, Qrow.

Ah, well. There was hope yet for her daughter, at least.

At least he had done the impossible and gotten his niece to join this year. Violet Merino had all the makings of a truly fine Huntress. An adaptable Semblance, impressive fighting style, and a brilliant mind to name just a few. Had taken years to finally get her to stop being a NEET before she accepted his personal invitation. He would make certain that nothing happened to her while she was under his care. He had promised her grandpa, his old teammate, that.

After sitting there for a moment more, going over everything that he needed to do in the two weeks he left for the new arrivals, he turned back to the paperwork on his desk again only to be stopped by the sound of the elevator opening.

In walked a giant of a man.

Ozpin was impressed by the sight before him, and not just because he had a nearly seven foot tall, armored knight in his office. No, it was because of who that knight was.

"Well," he said on greeting, "Brock Cruz. As I live and breathe. Glynda didn't mention who was coming in for an interview. I would've made things more welcoming."

The giant said nothing in response. He merely stood there for a moment, almost as if he was embarrassed by the greeting, before finally nodding in acknowledgement.

After a moment more of awkward silence Ozpin coughed before asking, "Might I get you some tea? Or would you rather have something stronger. A bit early in the day, but I do have some good scotch on hand."

After another moment, the giant faintly murmured under his full-face helm, "No." He coughed and said again, louder. "No, thank you. I no longer drink when I'm working. As a promise to my daughter."

"Ah, of course." Ozpin said in reply, fully aware of the Knights of Vale penchant for making Oaths, even to this day. "Well, that's certainly considerate of her, isn't it? Better living. Well then, please, come. Sit. I'm sure we have things to discuss, yes?"

"Agreed," the knight answered before quietly stalking over toward the chairs he had before his desk and sitting down. Cruz doffed his helm as he did, revealing the bearded face of a man in his fifties, his hair a complicated mess of blonds, blacks and whites.

Cruz rubbed at the back of his head nervously before smiling at him, revealing a mouth full of sharp canines. "Thank you for taking the time to see me, sir." Cruz said.

Ozpin blinked at that, but said nothing. He had forgotten the man's specific Faunus trait. Had always thought that it was something obvious like additional ears or a tail. It didn't matter in the end, though. What mattered was the character of the man before him. And, that, was not In doubt.

"It's no trouble for one of your esteem, sir. Now, shall we get started?" he said in response.

"Listen," Cruz said then, with a hand raised in a stopping motion. "Before we go any further with this. I'm… not here for an interview. Or, for a position. Though I do hope that it gets filled soon. This generation could use all the help it can get."

"What?" Ozpin asked with sudden confusion.

"The interview? For the job? I'm, not here for that. I'm here for another application. Or, should I say applicant?" The big man drawled. Then he shrugged and said, "Besides, I'd make for a poor instructor."

The headmaster took a moment to think things over, quickly, before this descended into something unrecoverable. There was an opportunity here, he was sure of it. He couldn't just let this man go.

Now, how to go about it?

"I wouldn't say that, sir." he said as he paused for time, to process what was happening. And what he needed to do to stop it.

He looked up at the man before him, staring out into the middle distance for a moment longer as he thought over his strategy. It would require some subtly manipulation on his part.

He knew that it would be a hard fight, but he was sure that he had this, so he asked, "Who's the applicant?

Brock paused for a moment before answering with "Jaune Arc."

… Or, maybe not.

"Ah," was all he was able to get out at first, before clearing his throat and continuing to speak as he got out the subject's paperwork from a draw. "And what might be your reasoning for looking at his paperwork? Surely, there isn't anything wrong with it, yes?"

He looked up at the silent giant for a moment before handing him the forms, saying, "I'm sure that everything is in order. I checked it myself, after all."

"Of course, sir. Again, thank you for seeing me for so small a thing. His mother was worried for him, you see? So, I promised to look over things here and watch out for him." Cruz rambled on to him as he started looking over the forms before him. "For a bit, of course."

"Ah. Of course." Ozpin steepled his hands as he watch the giant silently read over the forms. He was well aware that the forms were doctored. Impressively so, though. A cursory inspection from most would leave no doubt as to the applicant's authenticity.

Except that Ozpin wasn't most people. He recognized false transcripts for what they were right away, having seen many in his time as Headmaster. So many, in fact, that he would've immediately tossed the application, but for one thing.

The similarity to Rouge Arc's transcripts from her time at Beacon. That's where the boy had been clever, making the forms seem authentic. That, and the fact that Arc was not so common of a last name, even in Vale, but it was a familiar one for the Headmaster and Councilman.

And there came his own dilemma. What to do with the transcripts?

The boy was clearly under trained, if at all. The Huntsman Guild had received no word of any of Gil Arc's children going through the system for training for the last several years. Nor had they received word of an Apprenticeship, as Guillaume wasn't one for doing things by half. The man had trained several students over the years.

All personally.

More over, he knew of the Arc family, and of Guillaume's reticence to train his own children in The Arc Method. His personal style of combat. Beyond that there was the fact that The Marshal had only ever allowed two of his children to follow in his footsteps, both daughters, one as a Huntress and the other as a Lady Knight.

How curious.

Every Arc in history was a famed warrior, or a storied hero. From the current generation to all the way back to the first. To Jeanne Arc herself. And, while Jeanne Arc may have been burned as a witch for her visions, her legend as a warrior and leader live on in all of her offspring.

The potential of the boy could not be denied.

And there was one more thing. Something Ozpin hadn't been expecting.

Honesty.

He was honest. Even as he lied on the forms.

For training he had only put down a year's worth with his father and some training from traveling Huntsmen. And from the Knights of Vale. For education, he had put down his actual, non-Huntsman primary and secondary school.

He had put down nothing on Aura or Semblances. Or, on weapon crafting and upkeep. Or on survival, in general, besides how to build a proper campfire, that is. And yet, somehow, he had passed the initial written exam with flying colors, already showing a tactical acumen and a head for strategy. Valuable things for any leader.

In short, it be a waste to not accept him.

He watched as Cruz looked over the forms and came to the conclusion that he had yet another dilemma on his hands now. To let such a warrior, retired though he was, slip by and do nothing about it?

Much like with the boy's potential he just couldn't let that happen.

Now, how to go about it?

"So," He started, noting how Cruz flinched at the sudden noise but otherwise didn't react. "Is everything correct on the form then?"

/ /

Brock looked up at the Headmaster question and swallowed as he noted the shrewd look on his face. Careful, Brock he thought. Just, don't give anything away. You got this.

Unfortunately, he didn't actually believe that. Moreover, thanks to the Oath he had made when he initially joined the Knights, he was in for a pretty pickle. True, one could argue that as he had never been formally knighted such a promise didn't apply to him.

He'd argued otherwise.

Now, how to get Jaune through this without getting him thrown out for illegal transcripts, before he even attended the school? He shrugged in answer.

Just tell the truth, he supposed.

"Everything looks fine to me." He replied as he handed the forms back to the Headmaster.

"Ah, good." Ozpin said with a small smile as he looked over the forms. Then he looked up at him and asked as he stared him right in the eyes, "And the educational information is correct?"

Brock shifted in his seat before saying, "That… is the school that he went to, yes. Why?

"Oh, nothing." Ozpin responded. "Just clarifying some things, you see? You did come all the way out here just to check on things, after all. Just want to make sure the information here is correct, is all. Speaking of which, what about the combat training history?"

Brock blinked once in silence as he realized how badly he had fucked up by coming here, then he answered. "Yes. It is… correct. He did indeed train under his father, briefly. As well as a few of the knights. And a couple of traveling huntsmen. though I forget the names. But, I can say that he does know how to hold a shield correctly. Heh."

"Mm, I see." The Headmaster returned as he looked over the forms once more in silence. Brock said nothing as he waited. And, waited. He swallowed nervously in the silence.

"Well," Ozpin finally said as he stood with aid from his cane and offered his hand to shake. "Looks like everything checks out then. Thank you for bring this to my attention. Always good to get clarification on these kind of things."

"Indeed." Brock stated as he stood up himself and took the man's hands. Perhaps he hadn't fucked up as much as he thought?

Now, all he had to do was find somewhere to stay while he tried to figure out how to help the boy, preferably without being seen.

"Oh," Ozpin suddenly said, still holding his hand all the while. "About that job offer? It would certainly help if you could join the faculty. Would make it easier to help train our future students." Ozpin eyed him as he said, "The life of a Huntsman is a dangerous one. Even for students. As you know."

"I'll… think about it, sir." Brock said coldly as he stared back without flinching. "I'm certain that with your reputation. Nothing will occur."

"Of course, of course." The headmaster returned gregariously. "Our new students have nothing to fear. As long as they've been properly trained. Right?"

"Right." Brock repeated as they finished shaking hands and he turned to go. "Well. I'll leave you to your work then."

After a moment of silence, "Brock." He turned to look over his shoulder. "Care to make a bit of a wager then? Say, if someone were to pass the Initiation, then you'll join the staff? What say you? A Gentleman's Agreement?"

"Oh," Brock returned as he started towards the elevator again. "And what would stop you from holding such a thing over our heads? I don't make deals unless I'm certain that they are fair. And, besides, there's no need for such a wager. I can promise that."

The doors opened and he stepped inside, turning to face the office interior. He stared at the smirking silver-hair man in the green suit and scarf, standing there with his cane placed between his legs in a genteel fashion. "Of course, Mr Cruz. I do believe you are correct. Foolish of me to even make such an offer! Well luck to you then."

The doors closed. Brock banged his head against the door repeatedly as he descended. Stupide idiot He thought to himself in Old Valean. Just what was he thinking, agreeing to something like that.

He sighed and shook his head, rubbing his forehead against the wall. Now, what was he to do?

With a pleasant ding the elevator doors opened, revealing the Lady Goodwitch. He stood up straight as he turned towards her, unexpectedly looming over her as he did so.

"Oh, Mr. Cruz!" She spouted in surprise at seeing him standing there before flushing at how close he was to her and looked away in embarrassment. "I, uh, wasn't aware that your interview was done."

"Indeed." he replied softly, after a moment, before stepping towards her. She took an involuntary step backwards, away from him. The doors to the elevator closed behind him. "It was most… enlightening? I suppose." He finished with obvious confusion.

"Oh, did you get hired then?" She blurted out in excitement before coughing into her hand as she tried to correct herself. "I, I mean, n-not t-that you h-have to say anything to me about it."

He blinked awkwardly at her in silence, unsure as to what to say. Then he nodded slowly. She flushed with further embarrassment at that as he continued to gazed at her in silence. "M-Mr. Cruz?" she asked, unsure his silence, the blushing of her face growing in the silence as her embarrassment sky rocketed due to his sudden proximity.

S-so close. She whimpered in her mind.

"Are you quite alright, mademoiselle? You've been like this ever since we met at the docks. Is there something wrong? Have I done something to upset you? He asked as he stepped even closer to her, practically right in her face.

So close that she could kiss him.

"Absolutely not!" Glynda blurted out, her face burning at the intrusive thought. She coughed into her hand to compose herself before saying,"I've been the one making a fool of myself. I am so sorry! This is so unprofessional of me.

"Please, excuse me!"

As she said the last the Deputy Headmistress of Beacon Academy turned and all but fled from the room. Brock watched her leave, unsure of what to make of the situation. Then he realized what he had done and smacked himself in the head.

Idiot! How could he be so insensitive? Obviously he had been overcrowding her, making her uncomfortable. He sighed as he scratched at his head in confusion, wondering how he could fix this, before realizing his sudden dilemma.

Glynda had led him through the grounds to the Tower, but she had failed to tell him how to get back. He didn't know where to go!

/ /

Glynda fled from the Tower and out into the Inner Grounds, hiding in the manicured nature of the green there-all thanks to the lovely Thumbelina Peach. She clutched at her head in frustration.

She couldn't believe it! What was wrong with her? She had made a fool of herself yet again.

Twice! In the same day, with the same man! What was going on?!

Oh, she'd never live this down if Ann or Thumbelina found out about this. For that matter, the same would be true of Bart or Peter.

She sighed as she tried to calm down. It was fine. She could do this. Just, clear her head of everything. Like his eyes. Or that voice. Speaking of which, why could she still hear him?

She turned her head to look as she realized that the sound of his voice wasn't just in her mind to find the large, former Huntsman trotting up towards her.

"Mademoiselle, mademoiselle!" He said a bit frantically before coughing and calming down to say, "Uh, Deputy Heamistress Goodwitch, that is. My apologizes, if I upset you. I sometimes forget just how large of a space I take up at times. I didn't mean to crowd you like that. Please, forgive me."

He then bowed his head in apology.

Glynda blinked at that has she rubbed at strand of hair between her forefinger and thumb while she thought about what to do. Then she sighed as she walked up to him and said, "Please stand up straight, Mr Cruz. I should be the one to apologize for acting as I did. It was grossly inappropriate and unprofessional of me. I'm sorry."

Cruz looked at her and blinked silently for saying, "Apologize for what? You've been nothing but professional this whole time."

Glynda blinked in surprise at that, before asking without thinking, "You mean you didn't realize that I was coming on to you?" Then she smacked her head with a hand in despair. Why did she say that?! Oh, this couldn't get any worse?

She looked up at him to find his mouth forming an O as he flushed lightly in embarrassment. She quite liked the look of it.

"Oh," he said in a slight falsetto before clearing his throat and repeating at a more normal tone, "Oh. I, uh, didn't realize that. I, I'm f-flattered but, uh. I, I-I-I, uh, I'm flattered."

"You already said that." Glynda deadpanned at him, realizing that there was now no issue between them, even if she had definitely ruined any chances with the man.

Not that she cared. Surely not.

She sighed, "Look. I think we may have started off on the wrong foot. Shall we, can we just ignore what I said before and treat this as a joke? Just between the two of us?"

Cruz looked at her in silence for a moment before nodding his head. "Agreed. I shall say more nothing of it, Ms. Goodwitch."

Glynda did her best to stamp down on the sudden disappointment at the loss of his Old Valean, before asking, "So, why did you come trotting after me, sir? Surely, it wasn't just to apologize?"

"Ah, yes." He stated, before asking with hands widespread, "How do I get out of here?"

Glynda looked at him, blinked, and then face-palmed before pinching her nose and sighing. Of course. Of course, he hadn't been coming up to her for anything else. This, was just not her day. She swore if she found any students after this just goofing off, she was going… give them a really stern talking to.

While she was doing that the man continued talking, clearly embarrassed by what he thought was her exasperation with him. "I-I mean, is there some kind of Directory, o-or recognizable landmark that you could point out to me?"

At her continued silence his shoulders slumped as he said, "I, I'll take that as a no?"

"Sigh, no need for that, Mr. Cruz. I'll show you the way to the docks. I would make certain to learn the layout of the campus from now on. Preferably, before the semester starts." She said sternly, jabbing a finger in the air at him.

He flushed before replying, "Understood, Deputy Headmistress."

Glynda turned and rolled her eyes with a smile as she started off saying, "None of that now, Mr. Cruz. Glynda, is fine."

Cruz smiled, white fangs flashing, as he followed after her, saying, "Of course, mademoiselle."

/ /

It only took a few more minutes to make it to the Beacon Airstrip. Along the way they were briefly waylaid by a sudden rush of students making their way towards the cafeteria for dinner before continuing on.

Once there, Cruz briefly stopped to shake her hand, saying, "It's been a pleasure, Mademoiselle Goodwitch. Perhaps this time in two weeks we call each other colleagues. In the meantime, do take care?"

"Of course, Mr Cruz. I shall certainly do that. And, again, it's Glynda." she retorted warmly as she returned the gesture before seeing him off.

It was only while his Bullhead was leaving that she was waylaid by her good friend, Thumbelina Peach. "OoooOOhhh," the short, brown-haired, mousey woman-literally!-said as she watched the airship leaving, pumping her arms up and down in agitation. "Oh, I missed it. I can't believe I missed it!"

"Thumb? What's the matter?" Glynda asked the smaller woman in concern.

"I missed it. I missed it. I can't believe I missed it!" the young woman wailed aloud as she placed her hands on her head in despair.

"What? The last airship? What about it?" Glynda asked, confused.

"It's not the airship. It's who was on it. Brock Cruz!" Thumbelina shouted as if it was obvious.

"Why's that?" Glynda sked. "Did you want to see him before his interview?"

The professor turned turned and asked, excited once more, with stars in her eyes, "Interview? What interview? Is he joining Beacon?!"

"Indeed, he is, my dear Professor Peach," came a gentle reply from behind the two women. One accompanied by the familiar tapping of a cane.

The two women turned to find the Headmaster himself approaching from behind them. "Headmaster Ozpin./Really!" Came the respective replies from the two professors before Glynda turned to Peach and said with embarrassment, "Thumbelina, please! Show some respect to the Headmaster! Goodness!"

The shorter woman shrank down in shame at her outburst, her small, Field Mouse ears flattening, only to perk up as Ozpin waved his hands and chuckled, saying, ""Now, now. None of that, Glynda. I can understand her enthusiasm as to our newest hire. It'll make for a most interesting year."

"Oh, and I can assume from that that the interview went well then? Headmaster." Glynda replied, scrutiny in her words and face.

"Indeed. We put it to a wager. If a certain student passes. He'll join us." Ozpin said with a knowing grin on his face.

Thumbelina clapped her hands to her face in excitement, stars in her eyes once more, before suddenly darting towards the Emerald Forest. "Oh! If that's the case, then I simply must help out Old Pete with the clearing of the woods! We wouldn't want another fire!"

Glynda watched her friend go with a small, adoring shake of her head before turning to face her superior as he stared out over the Bay, sipping coco from his mug as always. "Sir. Professor, you didn't really propose something so ridiculous as a wager with the man, did you?"

Ozpin sipped from his mug for a moment before replying. "Indeed I did. I figure that it was the only way to get him on board. He would've refused otherwise."

"Why, sir?" Glynda asked after a moment of silence.

"Because, that man no longer wishes to have the lives of others placed in his hands." Ozpin explained to her. "He's lost the spark he once had. The drive. Life, has nearly broken him. This is just the sort of thing that he need to have that spark restored."

"Are you sure, Professor?" Glynda asked after a moment, wondering just who this man was. She would speak to Peach about it. Her and Bart both. Surely, one of them would know about the man.

"I am." Ozpin said. He paused to sip from his before asking, "Glynda, what's the life expectancy for a newly graduated Huntsman?"

She paused for a moment and grimaced as she recalled the answer, saying, "About five to ten years, Professor."

"Very good." Ozpin smiled at her, remembering her days as a student and then teacher assistant. "Now, what if I said that I could double that?"

"Sir?" Glynda asked, stunned by the question. "Are, are you saying that's what he's capable of? Then why did he retire? Why not go into teaching the next generation?"

Ozpin frowned as sadness, shame and pity filled his voice as he answered. "Because he didn't retire. He quit after he was forced to kill his friends and former teammates. The Guild ordered him to do so. And he did as ordered, like he had so many times before."

Glynda flinched back in horror at that revelation. "Why?" She asked. "Why would the Guild do that, sir?"

Ozpin shook his head at her before turning to face the view once more. "I can't answer that. It was before my time as part of the Guild, before becoming Headmaster. I don't have the clearance to pry into the records either. The only ones who know are the Directors of the Mistrali and Vacuan Branches fifteen years ago. And Brock himself."

Glynda looked at the Headmaster for a moment before turning to look out over the Bay herself. Her curiosity of the former Knight and Huntsman further peaked.

/ /

On the outskirts of Vale, Brock Cruz could be found settling down for the night in a crappy, low-rent motel room, mentally preparing himself for the next day. Before he fell asleep he looked over at the picture of a young, blond-haired girl and silently prayed that she would call before he fell asleep.

She never did.

/ /

On the Island of Patch of of Vale a black and red-haired girl shrieked with happiness as she found out that her older sister of two years had just been accepted by Beacon Academy. The two hugged each other and jumped in place, squealing, as their father watch on, a sad smile on his face.

Later that night the two would go out to the City of Vale to celebrate.

Only one would go to a certain shady side of town to look for answers about her mom, while the other would stop in at a local Dust Shop while she waited for her sister's return.

/ /

In an abandoned farm just outside of Beacon a black-haired, Cat-eared Faunus girl silently entered in through the roof of the shelter she was staying at with a bag of food in hand, avoiding the Grimm below. She paused as the sound of a message appeared on her Scroll. She opened it and read the message before sighing and smiling happily.

Hope in the future, her future and what she would do clear to her for the first time in years blossomed in her heart.

Meanwhile, in Atlas, a white-haired girl had just finishing performing the last song of the night at her final recital and was resting in her dressing room. As a equally white-haired man with an impressive mustache left her alongside a boy with the same white hair, she sighed and smiled genuinely for the first time since she had received the notice that she had been accepted by Beacon.

Finally, she would be free of her father's influence and could carve out her own path, just like her older sister had before her.

/ /

In Vale, a straggly, blond-hair boy made his way down a street, a bag of cheap, Stop and Rob food in his hand. He was clearly nervous about what was about to happen, but equally as excited.

Hoping that with one act of defiance he would finally make his dream come true.

Elsewhere in the city, a girl of crimson red hair sat in a luxury apartment and tried her best to remain patient as her agent yelled at her over the phone for lying about which Academy she was going to.

After he hung up she sighed quietly, thinking that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea, after all. Then, she then smiled as she got a message from her mother, wishing her luck on her first day.

/ /

A black-hair boy smiled silently as he watched his companion, a ginger-haired girl, dash about in a hyper-induced state of excitement as they walked down a street in Vale while they awaited the response from their Guild-affiliated Watcher about whether or not they had been accepted into Beacon or not. He didn't like what they wanted him to do, but if it meant that the two of them could achieve their goal, so be it.

He looked down at his Scroll chimed. His small smile grew just a smidge broader for a second as he read the message had just been received. Suddenly, he was jumped by his companion as she squealed in delight at getting the same news on her Scroll.

They were headed to Beacon.

They were all headed to Beacon.

A/N: Hello? Are any of you still there? I do hope you liked the first chapter in this very long story. Uh, don't necessarily except any updates in a timely manner. Life has a way of ruining schedules and the like. That being said, I do hope that you stick around for the duration. The second chapter is already under way and may be finished before the end of September-no promises.

All the love, Essiter

And, remember, you're awesome, stay awesome!