Disclaimer: RWBY belongs to Rooster Teeth. I own nothing.
Questions on the story will be answered at the end of the chapter. Q&A section Edited July 02, 2023

Chapter 3: On a Moonlit Night

"-Sienna Khan lied. Sienna Khan LIED. She knew the tyrant lives in our rightful headquarters, sleeping in her bed, but she called it a rumor. Then, our agent found her and Ghira Belladonna plotting to sell the White Fang to the humans! She has betrayed us to our invaders. Will we go quietly?"
""NO!""
"Will we surrender to humans?"
""NO!""
"Then, will we brave their defenses? Charge their stolen throne and drag that pretender out?"
""YES!""
-A White Fang general and his troops, after receiving a spy's report from the Chieftain's Manor.

November 3, 81 GWE, 10:40PM

Repurposed White Fang HQ, Sienna Khan's former office

The click of the door's lock returned the room to silence. Blake stayed on her feet, wary of approaching the offered seat. She took the chance to observe her foe.

The man, the boy, sat straight-backed on a couch set before a window, his hands steepling over a crossed leg. The moonlight shined upon his blond locks, as he affected an easy air few can imitate. Dressed in white, with a blue cape detached and thrown over the back of the seat, he resembled a fairy tale prince on a throne from her childhood books. Blake wondered if authors copied their kings and queens from actual royalty, or if the old rulers of Remnant modelled themselves after the stories.

His smile worried her. It looked altogether too satisfied. Blake conceded that it may be warranted, considering the prince's trap worked and he has captured his infiltrator. But to dismiss his soldiers, and even ordered them to lock the door? To be so calm when alone against an armed enemy? Something in this room assured him that she was no threat. A hidden dagger even as he professed a desire for dialogue. It suggested that the fairy tale prince might not be so princely in truth. Blake brushed a hand against Gambol Shroud, alert for the moment the axe drops. It did not go unnoticed.

With a minute tilt of his head, the Arcadian said, "Before you kill me, may I have a moment to explain?"

Blake kept a hand on the weapon, never mind that she hadn't planned on killing him. Murdering the prince ensured a war without rules or mercy. He does carry value as a hostage to possibly end the occupation, enough that she considered capturing the boy. She trusted her ability to overcome a single opponent.

The difficulty lay in the escape, with her options being the door or the window. The soldiers outside the door guaranteed a standoff on that path, ratcheting up the tension as her choices in escalation could result in a dead prince and a burning city. The path through the window required him to possess Aura or risk dying from the fall, but not all those in power unlocked theirs. Her father did, but Vale's Councilmen did not, making this choice a coin flip.

In the absence of good options, Blake tried to fish for time.

"Explain what?"

"Everything."

Even talking to him was a trap, for the prince said the worst of words. The questions that hounded her for the last two days surged again. She knew he may tell only lies. But even within lies, she could find some small truths. She needed to understand the how and why for the Arcadians' contradictions.

As she crossed the intervening distance to lower herself onto the couch opposite her enemy, Blake feared that the old adage might come true.

That curiosity killed the cat.

-o-

His offer given, Jaune awaited his guest's response.

Standing across the room, the girl's eyes glowed golden in the dark. The tresses of her hair fell in waves, blending with the shadows. She held herself like a warrior, body coiled like a spring and weapon ready to be drawn. Then, she moved, and the form of an assassin displayed the grace of a royal. With delicate steps, she glided through the room to reach the seat before him, before settling into the couch. Effortless and elegant, a performance comparable to that of his sisters.

It was a boon to him, then, that her expressions fell far short of a royal's façade. Her gaze roamed over the room, and over him. It lingered on the window, on his hands, then on his throat. She bit her lips, and her Faunus ears flicked. His Adjutant may well be correct in saying that this woman has long abandoned the path of a ruler. Her training was so incomplete. Such naked intentions.

Jaune stilled the hand resting on his knee, where a thumb caressed a trigger hidden in his palm. A tap would activate his personal Hardlight shield. He has no delusions that his Aura could survive an onslaught from a Huntress for more than a minute, and this little contingency should allow his soldiers time to save his life. To draw her attention away, his right hand spread in a welcoming gesture, inviting her to partake of the tea and cakes. She focused her eyes on his, and remained unmoving.

Did she think he poisoned the drinks? Jaune reached for the teapot, and refilled his cup. He held her gaze as he took a long sip.

"Feel free to enjoy these refreshments, but I supposed we should introduce ourselves. My name is Jaune Arc, a prince of the royal family of Arcadia. May I have your name?"

"…Blake."

Like pulling teeth, this one. At least she didn't try to give a false name.

"A pleasure to meet you, Blake. Now, as I've said, I would like a chance to talk. If you have any questions-"

She blurted, "How did you know I would be here?"

Rude. However, this was not the moment to nitpick on the proper way to converse. An informal meeting can afford some leeway.

The prince set down his drink and pointed up. "My ship. It has dozens of cameras on the underside to help with minute adjustments and scouting. It served wonderfully as a surveillance system." A simple question, with a simple truth in answer. A cheap trade to establish the first domino of trust.

To his delight, Blake Belladonna winced. She truly did lack formal training in negotiations.

"You did well getting through the perimeter," the prince admitted, "we had to trace back the footage to catch how you did it. But our people noticed you lurking at the first building. Heat signature." Another wince.

"Your cameras are better than Atlas' and Mistral's. Theirs were never a problem."

"You have experience sneaking past their airships?" The Faunus gave a slow nod. "You're right on that. The merchant ships of my home travel alone into the Grimmlands, and we crafted our ships with the knowledge that they will be without ground or fleet support. The Kingdom ships don't need over-engineered systems like ours because they already have ground troops, Huntsmen, and Bullheads for such functions, and can focus on mass-producible designs."

Atlas does, at any rate. The Mistralians simply followed stolen Atlesian designs without imagination.

The girl fell back into silence, and Jaune cursed her reticence. The reports did not have any sort of psychological profile, leaving him blind of her interests and talking points. Airships couldn't hold her attention. He took heart at the sight of her pouring tea into a cup of her own. As she drank, her eyes scanned the room again.

"Were you truly living inside these quarters? It's too clean in here." Huh. Observant. "Throughout the building, too" A beat, and realization dawned. "It's not just you. All the people using this place were just pretending." Quick on the uptake, also.

"Correct. Some may have thought they saw me in the windows, but from a distance, how can you tell one person in princely clothing from another? The same went for all the materials and personnel moving in and out of the building." The prince reached for his teacup. "I came across the tactic in a novel, of all things. They called it-"

"-the False Castle stratagem."

His hand stopped for a beat, before grasping the delicate handle. He sipped, then said, "The best ideas can be found in fiction. I'm sure it came from an actual historical event, written on a dusty tome somewhere in my library. But you must admit, Ms. Belladonna," he grinned, "the novel was much more entertaining."

Despite the tense atmosphere, Jaune spied a twitch of her lips. A smile, quickly lost a moment later.

"Ms. Belladonna, huh? You really did know who I was before this meeting. I'm telling you now, I will not become a bargaining chip against my father."

"That is the furthest idea from my mind. Using a daughter as a hostage against their parents? Your father would promise the moon, and turn on me as soon as you are safe. Any hope of a compromise would disappear."

Blake scoffed, "What compromise? You declared war. You brought ships and cannons to our island." Her voice rose as she spoke. "I've seen your little games. Scaring us with the news, killing the Grimm, flaunting your monopoly of our trade. You want us cowed into becoming your obedient pets. I prefer Atlas, they just want to kill us."

Just as he thought he had built a rapport, the girl's mood shifted. What should have been a hint of his knowledge and capability caused the conversation to heat up faster than he would like, and it was becoming clear to Jaune that Blake Belladonna did not have the patience for courtly niceties, instead flitting from one topic to another. A girl who distrusted intentions, and preferred her own conclusions. A difficult opponent. However, she revealed an opening, and Jaune seized the thread.

"You assumed Atlas is honest. When have they ever told the truth to Faunus?"

-o-

Blake narrowed her eyes. Her hunch turned out to be right. The prince had reveled in describing his ships' superiority over the northern Kingdom. And once again, the conversation has looped back to Atlas, with the prince being quick to redirect her anger in that direction. Whatever his true intentions may be, he would not be an ally to the other invader when they arrived.

Within minutes of meeting her, Jaune Arc told jokes and revealed secrets. He praised her skills, and soothed her worries of being captured. Strangers would not show such familiarity. Enemies would not act so concerned. How charming, how princely. He either came out of a fairy tale, or he wanted her for something.

The question was, would he lie to get her on his side? Because she did not like what the prince seemed to be implying about Atlas' goal.

"It's not that hard a truth to believe."

"Really?" The prince leaned forward. "Are all Faunus responsible for Durnel?"

At that, her heart twisted, and the teacup shook in her hand.

Durnel.

Durnel, where a mass grave remained. Where White Fangs embraced the mantle of their Grimm masks, and razed a settlement. She had worked among the Atlas cells in her years as an infiltrator and saboteur. In her nightmares, she remained with them, and stood in Durnel.

Cruelly, he continued, "When the news came, did the people here celebrate those who did it?"

Some did, her mother told her. Far more were horrified, but some did. Even after she arrived home, fights still broke out among the White Fangs of Menagerie on the matter.

"They are monsters," she said, in a hoarse whisper.

"And they are not even your monsters. That's not how the White Fang works, is it?"

"No. It was one cell. Not even the main Atlas cell, but a splinter group that gained popularity before it happened. I think I heard the news before Sienna ever did."

There were White Fang cells in every Kingdom. They paid nominal allegiance to Sienna Khan, but operated under the discretion of their cell leaders. Facing the heaving bureaucracy of the Kingdom militaries, this structure allowed for fast and decisive actions in the field. And in recent days, atrocities.

"The average man on the street may believe White Fangs everywhere are united, but those like the generals of Atlas? They know the ones responsible are within their borders," said the prince.

"So they hate all Faunus, not just the White Fang. They're coming here to kill us all, either way."

"Then why aren't they here?" Blake blinked at his words. "They could have arrived two weeks after setting out."

"The fleet had to get Mistral's permission…"

"Or, they could have flown around the continent. Any airship captain must consider their flight path, the chief concern being the ownership of the sky. A fleet admiral and fifty captains flying without permission into the vicinity of another Kingdom's capital? Impossible."

"Then, what, Atlas wanted to be humiliated?"

"It sounds mad, but the Atlas military does not do much that they do not mean to. Sometimes, their arrogance blinds them. And at times, they play into it to blind the world."

"You sound-." Blake stopped. Insulting the man who owned giant railguns may be a bad idea. Moreover, he appeared sure of his assertions.

She knew little of airship standards. Just as there are incompetent managers, bosses, soldiers, or Huntsmen, perhaps there are incompetent air captains and that was how the Atlas-Mistral debacle started. However, the thought that the leaderships of an entire armada in the world's strongest military being inept does, indeed, boggled the mind. The White Fang would have already toppled the Kingdom were that the case.

"You're suggesting that they wanted to slow their fleet, but they could have done so a different way. It's a political nightmare in Mistral right now."

"Sure," The prince said, "they could have taken the scenic route. Go flying off over the seas or disappear into the wild Grimmlands. But there wouldn't be such panic, such urgency. Everyone knows that the armada is about to take flight, their arrival imminent. They've known it for weeks."

And nothing happened for those weeks. Not until Arcadia announced their invasion to the world. Then, talks with Mistral finally advanced, and quickly too. As if a fire was lit under Atlas' rear. Blake tilted her head, lost in her musings.

Why declare war, then give their enemy time to bring reinforcements? The Faunus in the Kingdoms weren't subtle in their intentions, spurred on by the thought that a day's delay could be a day too late. Menagerie's population has swelled in the weeks following the announcement, with boats disgorging more and more people every day until the Arcadians put a stop to it.

Blake would suspect they intended a decapitation strike to wipe out the majority of the White Fang, but then why did it matter, that Arcadia arrived first? As far as Atlas knows, Arcadia was currently fighting the White Fang. Any lives taken, any casualties Arcadia received, was just less work for Atlas.

"Why? Why are they, and you, so adamant on coming here?" Blake took the plunge. He could lie to her. He could manipulate her. But she needed to know.

The prince's smile widened to a grin, and he snatched a pastry from the plate. He said, "Months ago, my contacts reported troop movements in Atlas. Intercepted messages told of terrible news for the Kingdom."

Blake closed her eyes. She saw a butchered settlement. Was it for their deaths, after all?

"It was a scouting report of Menagerie's deserts." Blake's eyes snapped open to meet his. Within them, she saw anticipation. He wanted her to ask.

"What did it say?"

"There is Dust in Menagerie."

Blake dropped her teacup.

-o-

The shock. The wonder. As Jaune bit into the mille-feuille, he admitted to enjoying the rush of unveiling the secrets of the world to someone. The Adjutant has heard this information plus more of his plans than anyone else, and her expressions back then were priceless.

The teacup was priceless, too. A part of the last set made by a famed ceramist before their settlement was lost in the Revolution. He's going to catch hell from his sisters for that, despite the fact that the set was gathering dust before he took them on this trip.

However, it was worth the trade. Proof that the girl believed him, to lose her composure so. He schooled his expression. This was not a time to show gleeful satisfaction, not as a girl unraveled before his eyes.

Keeping an even tone, he said, "To mine and refine Dust require many things. Things that cost. Heavy equipment, factories, w-"

"Workers. The biggest cost are workers, so the SDC use tactics that trap their workers in decades of servitude for a pittance." Blake Belladonna wrung her hand and her ears twitched. Then, she jumped to her feet and began a furious pacing. "That's the reason they needed more Faunus here, and gave us time. Why try to move thousands from Atlas-"

"-when you can take from the locals. Ones that shipped themselves here on their own Lien." Jaune kept his gaze on the pastry. "The SDC's business strategy relies on cheap labor, and coincidently, prisoners of war have little rights as far as the Kingdoms are concerned. No right to pay, to rest, or to willingness. Especially if there are no CCT towers for people to get word out about working conditions."

His words barely registered to the woman stomping to and fro, her mind set aflame by his revelation. She has begun mumbling to herself, uncaring that her words can be heard by Jaune.

"…all for Dust…glorious fleet, hah! ...glorified slave taking operations…Atlas or SDC…" She whirled to face him, lips set in a snarl. "The two truly are one, aren't they? The company is the Kingdom."

Jaune did not gainsay her.

The world may see the Staff and Gear on the bows of the Atlas Armada, but those in the know joked that their flag carried an invisible Snowflake. The company claimed independence, but their charmed life in recent years told the truth. The decisions in the Schnee Tower's boardroom influenced the Council Chamber of Atlas, which in turn dictated the military's policies and operations. Too much of Atlas depended on the SDC's success.

He wondered what the world would look like, had there not been such a want, a need, a great consumption of Dust. Close to a thousand settlements of varying sizes, though the number fluctuated wildly. Hundreds of airships. The Kingdom capitals and their satellite cities. Four militaries. Plus a Principality, and a merchant fleet that was, in truth, something more. All depended on a steady supply of Dust to maintain their hard-won prosperity. To keep the Grimm a mere constant concern, rather than the all-consuming threat to civilization that they used to be.

Menagerie's fate was sealed the moment the report surfaced, with or without Durnel. For where there is Dust, the SDC comes. The delay in Mistral, its cost? A token price for passage and a minor loss of face. And in return? A veil over their competitors' eyes as the SDC takes the Dust of Menagerie followed by a century of Atlas economic and military dominance.

"But you ruined their plan and got here before they did. Heheheh, of course the merchants made a bid for the Dust." Breaking off her chuckle, his guest glared. "Or will you try to say that you're here for the Faunus' sake?"

Her tone suggested it was a mutually exclusive choice, and perhaps in her mind it could only be so. Evil and good, truth and lie. The conqueror and the liberator. How innocent.

In the face of such a choice, Jaune could have only one answer.

"All that, and more." He said, an admission that brought Blake up short.

He rose from the couch, slow so as to not startle her, while keeping a thumb on the button in his palm. With the other, he beckoned her to window overlooking the southern edge of the city and the desert beyond. The girl kept a white-knuckled grip on her weapon as she sidled to the other end of the wide pane.

Together, they watched as a ship drifted over the sands on a patrol route. Jaune observed his guest from the corner of his eyes, debating whether to reveal so much so soon. Her stance began wary and fearful, as her eyes followed the airship. It softened as she lowered her gaze to the desert and the lights from tightly-packed homes. Fingers brushed against the glass, and a smile rose unbidden.

And Jaune saw.

What drove this girl? What were her interests, her goals? In the end, the mystery had a simple answer. She lacked the training. She disappeared from the island. She dressed for the battlefield rather than the ballroom.

But Blake Belladonna never stopped being Menagerie's princess. The Chieftain's daughter, their future ruler, whose concern were of her people and her home rather than the Dust beneath. She just…went at it a different way from her father.

She could understand. Perhaps.

"The view is impressive." He waited for a nod. "We in Arcadia have always loved the sight of the horizon. We see a romance in it, a destiny waiting for us if we would just set out and make it ours." Jaune let out a soft laugh. "It became an obsession throughout our history. It led us from a town to a city. From a few caravan traders to a fleet that sailed every sea. From farmer and peddler to Prince and Princess.

"It should have led to the dream of the Arcs. A Great Kingdom to call our own."

A hitched breath. A sharp stare. Her eyes searched his face for something.

"That won't ever happen." She must have realized how harsh the words were. Blake bit her lips before she explained, "In the early days of the White Fang, there was such a hope, too. My father painted a future for our people, a future where the world would accept the Faunus with open arms. Both races would work together to build Menagerie, and one day, the Four Kingdoms will welcome a Fifth. He believed so wholeheartedly." Jaune spied a teardrop. "I watched the hope in my father's eyes dimmed with each passing year."

Jaune nodded. "The Four Great Kingdoms of Remnant. They stymied every avenue we took. We launched a merchant fleet, they enacted tariffs. We built ten Walls, they said ten and no more. We crafted airships, they raised Dust prices fivefold. Something had to change."

"So you went after us?"

"I saw a chance, at last, and reached for it. A just cause to spark a false war, where the Kingdoms see two weak enemies tearing each other to pieces for their amusement. And in that borrowed time where their eyes are fooled, Arcadia can seize the moment to rise, and bring Menagerie with us.

"Apart, we are backed into corners. Doomed to fall in time. Mine has the technology, the capability. We have little space and materials. Yours have the manpower and the resources. Yet your people had no way to develop your land. It is a story told again and again across Remnants. The almost-Kingdoms. Cities that stood on the cusp of becoming greater, falling or slapped down because they were alone.

"But what if two became one, under a single banner, before the Kingdoms can react? We can have the staging ground to build any number of fleets, both captains and crews to man the ships, and the Dust to power it all. Imagine it. The Grimm beaten back to the seas, as more cities are raised on the sands. New farmlands would feed both our populations, and the sea routes to Menagerie will finally be safe for every trading companies. This could be a bountiful land. A Grimmless land. If my meeting with your father goes well, Arcadia can become the Fifth Kingdom that you and I dream of. That is why I'm here."

Even as they speak, Arcadian boats were delivering the parts and machineries for a Dust refinery. Airships carried them far into the dunes. In a month, they would be able to freely fire their cannons, for more shipments will be on the way before the reserves run dry. In six months, the fleet can be reinforced with newly-built crafts. In a year Arcadia will have a new wall, one comprised of airships, to protect from any reprisals. Safety for his home from the Kingdoms, as he advanced his plans in Menagerie.

"You're desperate to have us on your side," Blake said. It was a statement, not a question.

-o-

The prince had a certain tell. A small motion, easily missed by most in the low light. Unless one was a Faunus, who can see in the dark.

When he was worried, his thumb brushed his palm.

"I wouldn't say des-" He attempted to cover, only to be steamrolled by Blake, whose mind was firing full speed at her new theory.

"You mentioned Menagerie's manpower. You don't have enough people to mine the Dust, build your ships, and crew them. Perhaps not enough to quell a rebellion, either. Not with Atlas ready to swoop in. That's why there is a meeting at all. Your dream goes nowhere without us."

"If push comes to shove, I can imitate Atlas."

Blake scoffed, "You can fight us. You might be able to hold off Atlas. You're not strong enough to do both!"

The two stared at each other. Blake stood more sure, the possibility of having gained bargaining chips soothing her nerves. In the momentary lull, she took this chance to look, truly look at the prince. His demeanor appeared calm and detached. Yet, her ears noticed that he breathed a touch too heavily. His bearing had been ramrod straight and sure. She found it regal, almost alien on first glance. Yet, she imagined that he now, very slightly, slumped. The prince had not meant to reveal so much, lost as he was in a reverie, and regretted it now. Behind the curtain, the prince turned out to be a mortal, flaws and all.

Blake must admit, the power this insight has given her was intoxicating. She can shatter his plans just by speaking to the right people. Vale would never allow another Kingdom so close to their capital. Her father need only refuse to work with the prince and the Dust mines will lie empty, and Atlas can strangle Arcadia with embargos. The poor prince would beg her for help.

Help that she cannot give, because it would be too late.

She pouted.

All that power and no opportunity to use it. Why couldn't it be Jacques Schnee I'm talking to?

She could reveal the prince's plans to ruin him. Ruin Arcadia. Then, Atlas would attack with their fleet, burn her home to ashes, and enslave her family to mine Dust for the SDC. Not exactly an ideal outcome.

On the other hand, the prince intended to annex her home. His speech proclaimed the birth of Arcadia as a Great Kingdom, and his silence on Menagerie's position said it all.

The Faunus learned their lesson, after the Revolution. The words of other Kingdoms were lies, more often than not. Promises of friendship can turn into a knife in the back. Once the prince has his foothold, he would never relinquish his grip on Menagerie. Any suggestion of independence would fall on deaf ears, because the prince needed control of the Dust mines. At best, they would be a vassal state. At worse, they'd meet the same fate as under Atlas subjugation.

Either way, her home would never be the same again.

His reluctance plain, the prince said, "I prefer cooperation rather than war with your people. It is not a weakness. You have seen the lengths I go to, to improve this island. It is a taste of what is to come. Would you lend me your support, to convince your father to accept my rule? Because Atlas awaits."

To live, to thrive alongside the Kingdom of Arcadia. To see cities on the horizon of Menagerie. To have found a path forward upon this world for her people. A tempting dream, if true. It stayed her impulse to reject this man.

Blake imagined a Menagerie with proper defenses and trade. She can see a home for every Faunus, properly built rather than cobbled-together shacks. She saw food on every table, piled high from the farmlands beyond the cities' walls.

Best of all, Blake saw her chance.

The world tomorrow need not be the world today. If one Kingdom may rise, then may not another? The prince has shown himself as fallible as anyone else. His reign was not absolute. When things inevitably turned sour between her people and his, and Faunus are threatened once more, Blake could be by his side.

Poised to make a Kingdom for her people.

Let Arcadia rise, let Menagerie follow, until that day.

"I have terms."

"Of course. More tea?"

"You know what I desire. Join me, and I will show pleasures you have never known. Join me, and in return I swear to free your sister from the shogun."
Kimiko unsheathed her katana. For a moment, she thought of driving the blade through the warlord's chest as was ordered. As a kunoichi, the mission must come before her own heart. Yet, as a sister, her family comes before all else.
With gritted teeth, she allowed the blade to fall.
Her clothes followed soon after.
-Ninjas of Love, Chapter One "The Warlord and the Kunoichi", page 17. Coincidentally bookmarked by two readers.

November 4, 81 GWE, 03:12 AM

Repurposed White Fang HQ, outside

The Arcadians fought too poorly.

Even with a single year of experience in Mistral, the White Fang soldier fought better. He showed more far more courage and discipline. His squad actually stayed in formation.

The humans that they so feared were mere paper tigers in the face of the battalion's advance. They had those fancy blue shields, yeah. But the moment they began flickering from a rocket volley, those cowards in their faceless helmets broke ranks and retreated.

The liberation army pursued, hot on their heels. As the General suspected, the big ship up there couldn't fire so close to their own people. The key to victory was to press the charge, and bring the fight to close quarters.

A part of him thought it looked silly. One side pushing their shielded carts like something from the Great War, the other running with their faltering hardlight projector that he used to think only existed in movies. And somehow, someway, it was the worse-equipped troops that were winning.

Goes to show that technology meant squat. Things like bravery and mettle were what matters, and those can't be bought and slapped on a soldier.

Already the main group of fleeing Arcadians have been pushed back to the entrance of the main building, diving behind thick metal barricades. The stragglers have split off to the left and right, lone islands of blue in the night. Tempting prey, but the White Fang troops remembered their mission. These grunts weren't important, the target was inside.

Even now, it hurts. He admired Sienna Khan. Hell, he had hoped to be able to talk to her one day, perhaps at a victory ceremony where she would put a medal on him. But to know that she had betrayed them, had kept the truth of the prince's location from their wrath, his admiration had curdled into disgust. She almost succeeded, and Menagerie would have been lost had their spy not witnessed the meeting.

She will receive her punishment in time. They're after bigger game tonight. If they could get one squad, one soldier, into the same room as the tyrant, then the invasion was over.

As if reading the soldier's mind, the Arcadians' shields overlapped in front of the entrance and windows, blocking the path to the Oum-damned prince. A rocket volley impact them a moment later, making the already-weak shield flicker…flicker…

Why aren't they flickering? Or shattering altogether? He saw the first ranks of White Fang unload their rifles on the shields, which stayed a solid blue. Another set of rockets hit, to no effects.

Cold sweat broke on his brows, as more Hardlight shields powered on between the stragglers along their flanks to form two unbroken lines. A glance behind showed the lines turn and closed on the rear of the White Fang.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

The main doors slammed open. One of his fellow Faunus shouted.

"The prince!"

He'd wager that the entire battalion raised their weapons at that moment, eager (or desperate) to give all that they have to end the bastard. His squad did the same. Even deep in his panic, the soldier lifted his rifle and craned his neck to look.

And looked.

Well, it's a much better sight to look at, but it's definitely not the prince. Amber eyes and dark of hair, her cat ears revealing her heritage, the Chieftain's daughter stood on the steps of the captured headquarters. Behind enemy lines.

Her eyes moved from face to face, widening as she recognized some among them. She shook her head, as if dismayed.

Why would she be disappointed? Why was she in the building? Could she have...?

The Chieftain's daughter, Blake Belladonna, stepped forward with her hands raised in a placating gesture. Amidst their shock and suspicions, the battalion watched her as she spoke.

"Brothers and sisters of the White Fang, lay down your arms and give peace a chance."

-o-

"Is this wise, Sir? We have them in the kill-box."

"It's part of the deal. Maybe I could have kept this from her, but it would ruin any compromise between us."

"May I ask what she intends?"

"She will give them a final chance to surrender."

"..."

"Do not scoff. Even after all she went through, she remained kind and hopeful. Traits that I am glad to see."

"My apologies, your Highness. Do you believe it will work? These are the ones you gave up on."

"…Just make sure the shields are covering her."

At the End of Peace
Along Island Shores
On A Moonlit Night
A Boy Met A Girl

~Prologue End~

Author's Notes: Protagonists tend to have their own plans, and having them meet can derail both rather than enhance either. Blake was just as ambitious as Jaune in the main show, so she made a terrible damsel in distress here. Much too active, and unwilling to instantly betray her people for him.

I've mention my plans in my profile. There are a few other stories that need their introductory arc, my intention for writing these fanfics is to toss out ideas, after all. Months to go before next chapter of this story, so in the meantime, if anyone would like to run with their own version of this, let me know!

Also, since this story won't have any update soon to advance the plot, if anyone has something they are curious about, let me know and I might update this chapter at the bottom to answer. Maybe.

Q&A:

Have Jaune and Blake ever met at Beacon? And what does it mean for JNPR?

No, Jaune never went to Beacon here. His ambition of being a hero was subsumed by the dream of the Great Kingdom of Arcadia. For that goal, he wanted to be a prince, not a Huntsman. His Aura being unlocked as said in chapter 3 was a safety measure for the ruling family, like Blake suspected.

As for JNPR (and RWBY) and how their individual lives are changed in this world, that's beyond the scope of this story and the abilities of this writer. Probably, they did alright. Can't miss Jaune if they never met him.