Chapter One: Locked Up
For the first time in his fifteen short years on Remnant, Jaune Arc felt tall. Really tall. Like a man.
He looked like a mess.
A dark swollen circle surrounded his right eye. He had a jagged split in his lip, a deep tear that reached all the way down to the bottom of his chin, still bleeding and dirtied by mud.
Despite all this, he held his smile wide, adrenaline fueling his inner fire, his gaze fixed upon the broken and bloodied form of a bully, crawling around in the mud by Jaune's feet. In his peripheral vision, Jaune vaguely registered the blood dripping from his own fist and onto the wretched boy's head.
While the condition of the pair may have seemed comparable at a glance, Jaune's injuries paled in comparison to the bully, whose nose was bent awkwardly to the left, bleeding profusely, while in the palm of his hand he held three of his own, recently removed, teeth. On his other hand, the bully held a small, silver dog whistle. It had a tiny glass compartment attached to its end which was filled with, what Jaune assumed to be, gravity dust.
Behind them, through the heavy droplets of rain splashing against the mud, a terrible wailing could be heard. A faunus child was clutching his large, canine-like ears in pain, blood leaking through his fingers as he was cradled by a tall, blonde girl with a striking resemblance to Jaune.
The broken and bloodied bully at Jaune's feet, cruel as he was, could only think of one thing left to do. He deliriously lifted the silver dog-whistle back towards his mouth, but before he could wrap his lips around it, Jaune ruthlessly delivered a kick to the boy's head, causing him to fall face first into the mud, unconscious.
With Jaune retaining his jagged and rather maniacal grin, and having just knocked a boy out cold, this was perhaps the worst possible moment for someone to arrive. Unfortunately for Jaune, his teacher finally decided to investigate the howls of pain from the faunus child, which continued to pierce through the sky around them.
The rest of the day was a blur for Jaune, he barely noticed the ambulance coming to pick up the bully. He did notice when one of the paramedics refused to treat the faunus boy, who continued to wail into the void while Jaune barely held in his disgust. Eventually, another paramedic stepped in to treat the boy's canine ears and came to the alarming realization that the faunus could not hear anything at all.
Jaune now sat alone in a doctor's office, the irritating and dull pain of his stitches tempered by an overwhelming feeling of numbness. Jaune was tired, really tired, and he wanted to go home. But he couldn't, the police still had questions for him, questions he didn't know how to answer. No, he couldn't go home yet, but fortunately, home came to him instead.
His mother, her expression like that of a wild animal, burst into the room and before Jaune could so much as get a word out, her hands were already on his shoulders, his chin and forehead, poking and prodding him, the (usually) gentle woman clearly more interested in her son's immediate physical wellness above all else.
Despite his protests, she continued fussing over his injuries, asking him so many different questions that, in his already tired state, simply left Jaune confused. Instead of even trying to answer any of them, he simply sighed, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling his forehead to her stomach, avoiding any pressure being placed on his stitches.
After a brief pause, surprised by the rare show of affection from a teenage son, his mother returned the hug, her tears finally slowing, the woman began to gently rock her son back and forth, her concerned questions fading to become comforting reassurances. From the corner of his own stinging and damp eyes, Jaune could see his father, his hero, standing just outside his room, and speaking quietly to a Vale police officer.
Jaune suddenly got the urge to rub his tears off his face, and broke the hug with his mother to do so, not caring about the way his skin pulled painfully against his stitches as he rubbed his eyes. Before he could finish, he felt soft fabric dab against his face, and looked up to his mothers brown eyes looking down at him as she dabbed his tears away.
"My baby boy," She said, choking on her own words.
"I'm okay Mama, I'm okay," He reassured. By the way her eyes narrowed slightly as she finished dabbing his dry, Jaune wasn't so sure he managed to convince her.
"I know my chéri, I know." She told him, running a hand through his hair as her expression softened.
"June," came the familiar, baritone voice of his father, tempered by an unusual timidness that was deeply unfamiliar to Jaune. The bearded man smiled as warmly as he could and approached his wife and son. "Give the boy some space now, he's had quite the day."
The woman smiled sadly at her husband and stood back so that he could kneel down in front of their son unimpeded. Jaune had a very hard time meeting his father's eyes, but he knew no conversation would begin until he showed his old man that basic respect.
"You should not be ashamed to cry in front of me, son." The old man told him, placing a hand on his knee. "You know I will not think less of you for it."
Jaune's eyes stung again.
"Yes Sir, I know that. '' Jaune said, his teeth grinding slightly, believing his father to be missing the point entirely.
"June, my love, would you give Jaune and I the room for a moment."
His 'love' did not seem entirely pleased by this request, but acquiesced anyway, knowing full well her husband would not dare to keep anything important from her for long.
"Of course, Nico," she told him, shooting her husband a withering look, a warning to ensure her assumption was correct.
When he convinced her with a short nod, June took a short moment to approach her son, and place a kiss on his head. It was a telling sign of the seriousness that the boy did not recoil in his usual, amusing embarrassment, but simply accepted the kiss, his eyes looking softly up at her.
"I love you mon chou, I'm so glad you're okay."
With those parting words, Jaune's mother left the room, leaving the Arc men alone for this discussion. When Jaune turned back to face his father, he was a little shocked to see the expression on the man's face. For all his life, Jaune had never seen his father so concerned, so unnerved. It scared him.
"I know why the fight happened Jaune, I spoke to your sister, the officers, your teacher, even that Faunus boy."
"Is he okay!" Jaune interrupted, immediately wincing in pain as his outburst pulled at his stitches.
"Be calm boy, you don't want to aggravate your injury." His father told him softly. The older man sighed. "The Faunus is doing well, all things considered"
Jaune nodded slowly, trying to block out the pain.
"He's deaf now, isn't he?" Jaune asked, sounding despondent.
"No, the boy has recovered his hearing… but only in his human ears."
Jaune sighed in resignation.
"I know you were only helping the faunus..." Nico continued, before sighing deeply, not looking forward to the rest of the conversation. "Jaune, that boy you fought was already in the mud, wasn't he?"
Jaune lowered his head, taking a keen and sudden interest in the color of his own shoelaces.
"Why did you kick him when he was already down?"
"He was reaching for the whistle dad, he was going to blow it again, just to hurt that kid." Jaune told him, through gritted teeth, his voice dripping with all the righteous indignation appropriate for a hero obsessed school-boy.
"Eye's up." Nico commanded; his voice as gentle as it was firm.
Jaune immediately obeyed, looking at his father nervously, hoping to avoid any of the man's disappointment.
"Why didn't you knock the whistle out of his hand?"
"I don't know… It was just impulse," Jaune told him, seemingly exasperated by the line of questioning.
"Jaune,' Nico said, raising his voice by barely a decibel.
The message was sent, and Jaune's eyes returned to his shoelaces.
"I just wanted too." He mumbled, ashamed of himself.
"Speak up."
"I just wanted to hurt him." Jaune spat out, angrily, as he looked back up at his father. "He was hurting that faunus, and I wanted to hurt him back!"
Nico's shoulders slumped, and the man sighed deeply. Jaune knew that look, reserved only for when one of Nicolas Arc's eight children had really, really messed up. He wasn't angry, that would be almost bearable. His father was disappointed in him. Despite everything else, that realization may have been the worst thing to happen to Jaune all day. His father exhaled deeply, and then spoke softly.
"I understand Jaune, I really do." He told Jaune, a grimm expression painting the old Huntsman's face.
Jaune didn't know why, but he believed him.
Even now, sitting in that courtroom, Jaune could see it. His father's weariness hiding behind a forced smile, one Jaune assumed he was using in a rather poor attempt at reassurance. Jaune smiled back though, if only to let his dad know that he appreciated the effort.
On the other side, his mother was more obvious in her anxiety, her grip on his knee becoming more and more painful as time went on. Though he couldn't see them, he knew his older sisters, Rogue and Saffron, were shifting nervously in their seats.
All this would be enough to panic him slightly, but the final detail to this troubling picture was his advocate, assigned to him by the court, who gazed longingly out the window, and sighed in something akin to apathetic resignation.
When Jaune turned back to his father, he saw that forced smile now dogged by a new competitor, a sharp fury in the man's eyes. It was aimed directly at the advocate, who wisely shook himself out of the funk, sat up straight, and turned toward the family, whose son he had just 'defended'.
"You shouldn't be too nervous," He said, speaking slowly, as if to a group of toddlers. "It's only been a short time, This magistrate often deliberates for quite a bit longer than this. I would say the longer he is gone, the better our chances are."
It was coincidence that ensured the judge would enter the courtroom barely a moment after the man stopped talking, and one whose ramifications almost made Jaune laugh at the absurdity. Instead, he gave out a heavy sigh. His mother's grip on his knee grew tighter, and Jaune couldn't be sure, but he imagined that if he turned back to look at his father again, he would no longer see that forced smile.
Jaune was keenly aware, despite not having the words to describe it, that these next moments may be the most consequential of his life. As the magistrate sat, any remaining chatter in the courtroom died, leaving behind a very well lit, very dark room for Jaune and his family to wallow in their collective misery.
"Thank you for waiting everyone, I've deliberated and made my decision," The man said, reminding Jaune of old Valish court drama's his mother would occasionally watch in the evenings.
"I have taken into keen consideration the facts of this case, the troubling consequences of youth violence being left unchecked, and unpunished."
Jaune heard his father's breath hitch, the man clearly irate at the notion his son was nothing but a 'violent youth'.
"While It is indeed clear that Mr. Arc interfered on behalf of the… Faunus child," the magistrate said, his words dripping with condescension at the word 'Faunus', "Given the nature of events as they occurred, I cannot in good conscience be lenient, as requested by the defense advocate."
Jaune felt his mother's grip loosen, the woman seemingly losing herself in despair. His 'defender' did nothing but shrug his shoulders and ignore the daggers Jaune's father was staring into his back.
"Mr. Arc," the magistrate droned one, turning to face the boy. "You chose to interfere. You chose to fight the victim, that was a poor choice on your part."
For the first time today, Jaune felt himself getting angry, and wanted to ask the magistrate what he would have done, if he had seen what that bully was doing. Though, if only judging by the way he spoke earlier, Jaune somehow doubted the man would have done a damned thing.
"In the end it comes down to this, you say he reached to blow this whistle, a… 'weapon', one that we have no evidence even existed in the first place, -" He continued, speaking over the rustling indignation of Jaune's family, and that of the faunus boy, sitting in the gallery, the child himself still recovering in hospital.
"- And you decided to defend the faunus by brutally kicking the victim in the head, rendering him unconscious and concussed, and that's not even mentioning the injuries you had already inflicted upon him."
Jaune could hear his father's breathing becoming louder, not unlike that of a bull preparing to charge its prey.
"It's your word against his Mr Arc, and your actions have given me no reason to trust in your side of the story. It is clear to me that, despite the arguments of your advocate, you are a clear and present danger to our community and require rehabilitation in order to prevent further criminality and violent behavior, before you reach adulthood."
The magistrate sighed, and Jaune took his mother's hand into his own, squeezing it gently in comfort.
"I am mandating a twenty-four week stay at the Vale Youth Services Centre, with the option of conditional release after sixteen weeks provided good behavior and the recommendation of the custodial officer."
The words of the magistrate swirled around Jaune's head, the room seeming to shrink as he finally came to terms with what was happening. The boy was remarkably still, his mind blank. In that moment his mother's strong embrace, her heavy sobs, and his father gently squeezing his shoulder were the only sensations Jaune was even vaguely cognizant of.
Jaune wasn't marched right to jail, like some character in a bad drama. He was given two weeks house arrest to spend with his family and prepare himself for two whole seasons of 'youth rehabilitation'. In the lush Arc chateaux, Jaune struggled to excommunicate himself from apathy.
His mother and father were both putting on a brave face, but the redness around his mother's eyes in the morning, and the way his father often stared into space when he thought Jaune wasn't looking. When caught, his old man would simply encourage Jaune to spend time with his sisters.
Rogue, his oldest sister, had come home from the city Vale to see him while she could. They were never that close, but Jaune appreciated the effort all the same. Their conversations were a little awkward, mostly focused on her studies in winemaking, which she would eventually use for the family vineyards. His younger sisters were easier to connect with, mostly.
The twins, Skye and Maya, were predictably antsy, caught between sadness and anger, which was unfortunately aimed at Jaune directly. Jade was always quiet, so Jaune made an effort to spend time with her in the garden, an act he knew she appreciated, even if she was too shy to ask. Lavender and Violette were perhaps a little too young to fully understand, but definitely old enough to express their sorrow, crying almost as much as his mother.
When it came to Saphron, Jaune was at a loss. She had been there that day, saw him destroy that bully, make him bleed, and smile doing it. Ever since, a shadow had been cast over that special bond they shared, as two siblings closest in age. Jaune could see it, in the brief moments she would even meet his gaze, she looked at him with fear. Dislike he couldn't handle, disgust even, Jaune felt he might deserve that. But fear? That was too much.
Did he scare her so much? Had his manic grin been so disturbing, the blood on his knuckles so terrifying that she was actually frightened of him? He always saw Saph as his protector, whether it was from bullies in grade school, or cauliflowers on his plate, she was always there for him.
Saphron always made him hold her hand when they crossed the street together, and when he tried to shunt it out of embarrassment, she would grab his cheek and call him 'her little baby brother'. Jaune used to think it was annoying. He missed it already.
"So, if Aura is a person's soul, then it is like magic?"
"Not quite Jaune," Nico chuckled, with just a hint of noticeable happiness in his eyes. "It's a manifestation of our souls, not the soul itself."
"Is there a difference?" Jaune frowned in confusion. "It still seems like magic to me."
"It may seem that way," Nico nodded, not entirely disagreeing with his son's assessment, "but Aura has limits, and restrictions."
Nico paused for a moment, before reaching out and placing a hand on Jaune's shoulder. Jaune stood up a little straighter, his head held high. Looking deep into his son's eyes, the Arc patriarch sighed.
"You must promise me you will only use this ability to defend yourself Jaune, you must never abuse the power I am unlocking by repeating your mistakes," Nico lectured, watching as the pride in his son's eyes deflated.
Until recently, Nico had been determined to keep all hidden, fighting, Aura, Semblances… everything. It was a decision he had never regretted. He had lost so much to that damned profession and was sure that if he had to bury one more Arc before their time, it may break him entirely.
Nico Arc wasn't a blind man. He knew that his only son dreamed of being a warrior, a Huntsman, and by unlocking his son's Aura, he was setting Jaune up for the kind of life Nico never wanted, for any of his children. Despite all of this, something felt right about passing on his knowledge, teaching his son the skills he would need to protect himself and, one day, to protect his family. Exhaling gently, Nico closed his eyes.
"For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of service and humility to rise above adversity. Unconditional in love and unbound by distance. My son, I release your soul, and by my Honour, protect thee."
When the words were spoken, a brilliant light shone blindingly through the garden before receding back, leaving Jaune covered in a brilliant white glow.
"A strong Aura," Nico remarked, pulling his scroll out to check the reading. "A good reserve, perhaps even deeper than mine, one day."
Jaune wasn't paying much attention, the boy still staring at his glowing arms in wonder, even as they began to fade. Once gone, he reached up to his stitches, the now familiar twang of pain pulsing far less severely than it had been just a second ago.
"If you are disciplined, and your focus is maintained, Aura will be able to help you heal injuries and limit pain." Nico paused for a minute, examining his son's frown. "Unlocking this at the hospital would have done you no good, it was too to prevent a scar from forming".
Jaune nodded passively, his eyes unfocused.
"Do you think I'll need to use it… In there, I mean."
Nico's heart sank, this moment of fatherly pride scattering away as the memory of why he was even doing this had reformed. The old man did the only thing he could do and, reaching forward, took his son in a tight embrace.
"Dad, I'm really scared." Jaune admitted, muffled by his father's shoulder.
Nico nearly trembled. Every parent had hopes, dreams and fears for their children. This? It was like his worst nightmares were manifesting in front of his very eyes.
"I know Jaune," He attempted, rubbing the boy's back. "It's going to be okay; I promise you."
Nico didn't believe his own words, and as Jaune nodded absently into his shoulder, he knew his son didn't either.
The day had arrived.
Jaune stood bravely and smiled warmly, a lie so shallow he expected no one other than his little sisters to believe it, the girls clearly peeking through a gap in the window. He couldn't be the person who made them more upset, he had already done enough. His mother's eyes were damp, the strong woman looking frailer than Jaune had ever seen her. It made him feel all the more guilty.
"I know you will not be allowed a scroll, so you write as soon as you can, yes?"
It was framed like a question, but Jaune knew better.
"Of course, mama, of course I will," he said, before allowing himself to be pulled into a hug.
When it broke, June dabbed her eyes, and gave her only son one last appraisal.
"You are as tall as me now, my little chérie… when did that happen?"
Jaune had no idea what to say to that, so all he did was shrug. After a sad look, his mother moved aside, and allowed Rogue to take him in an unexpected, but not unwelcome, hug of her own.
"I love you Jaune," She whispered, only loud enough for Jaune's ears. "Please be careful."
Jaune nodded on her shoulder, and finally felt the tears begin to stream.
When Rogue finally released him, he found himself face to face with Saphron. It was with no small amount of sadness that he noticed her hesitate to approach him. Jaune closed his eyes in a vain attempt to prevent himself from weeping, only to be shocked by a crushing and familiar hug. It was a long hug, one Jaune almost collapsed into. When Saph finally let go she, still refusing to meet his eyes, gave him a small peck on his cheek, before turning away and stepping back into the house. As soon as he heard the door closed, he could hear the sobbing, the deep guttural cries of his sister which echoed through the air.
"Rogue," His father said, gently.
"I'll take care of her," She answered, before giving Jaune one last look, and following her sister.
"It's almost time, Jaune," Nico said, motioning to the airship, docking in the distance.
Jaune wondered, though stinging tears, when this all began to feel so real.
Nico approached his son and helped him put his arms through the loops of his backpack, strapping them tightly against his body. Jaune trembled as Nico turned him around and pulled him forward. It was a short hug, and no words were exchanged, but every ounce of meaning was extracted.
As Jaune readied himself for the journey ahead, his mother swooped in for one last embrace, forcing him to lean forward so she could lay kisses on the top of his head. When she was done, she pulled him to her again.
"You are strong, Jaune. You can do this. I know you can," She whispered, rocking him from side to side.
Jaune didn't know where her unshakable faith in him came from, but as he could hear no trace of doubt in the woman's voice, he was extremely grateful. Eventually, he had to break the hug, and turn around to face the airship. After he gave his father one last look, the men nodding shortly to each other, Jaune exhaled, and began to walk forward.
As he began to move further and further into the distance, June wrapped her arm around her husband's waist, and rubbed his back.
"He will be okay my love," she told him, looking up into his blue eyes with a steely gaze. "He is your son after all."
Nico could do nothing but lower his head. He didn't know where on Remnant his wife had forged her faith, her perseverance, her determination; but he was glad for it.
Note:
Hello!
Welcome to my first RWBY story. Been reading in the fandom for a while, and have had a few fic ideas along the way, but I just couldn't get this one out of my head. The concept is loosely based on the real life 'kids-for-cash' scandal, and other true stories and experiences of young people in the foster and juvenile correction systems. While I hesitate to spoil the fic, I will say that the characters will not be spending much of the story locked up. Jaune is 15 currently, and we will see him through well into the time RWBY is set. More pairings will be included, particularly when we reach that point.
This first chapter was initially going to be just a very short prologue, no more than a thousand words, and didn't have any dialogue at all. Ultimately, I decided to give a little more detail, explore Jaune's familial relationships a little more than I had planned, and give the story a proper introduction. The chapter still feels a bit Janky to me, but I think you guys will find the pacing and tone will be smoothed out when things get moving.
I decided on using Magistrate for Judge and Advocate for Lawyer, as Magistrat and Avocat are used in France. I also had Jaune's mother use French pet names, to further solidify my interpretation of Jaune's Joan-of-Arc inspiration.
I'm still unsure If I used the right name for June and Nico Arc (which are clearly inspired by Coeur Al'Aran's version of the characters) but beyond the names and Nico's background as a huntsman (former, in my story), I think that is where the resemblance stops for the most part. I briefly considered having Jaune's father be deceased, or die early in this story, as I feel canon at the very least implied it early on (Jaune talking about his father in the past tense while speaking about his family's legacy of warriors/heroes to Pyrrha) but I decided against it.
I also wasn't going to introduce the sisters this early on, as they play a relatively minor role in this story, and I feel it's a bit of a cliché just to create a bunch of Arc children. However, as I said before, I felt this prologue needed more depth. As in fanfic tradition, the Arc children are named after the colors of the rainbow. Rogue is Red, Saphron is Orange, Jaune is Yellow, Skye and Maya are Blue, Jade is Green, Lavender is Indigo and Violette is… Violet (go figure).
Anyway, thank you for reading, feel free to review or comment, and if anyone would like to beta-read for this story, please let me know, it would be a huge help.
Seeya next time!