Welcome back everyone! Hope you've had a great week. It seems like a lot of you guys liked the first chapter, and I really appreciate all the reviews and comments you guys left (Except for the god forsaken bot artist reviews. They will be the death of me.) I'm pretty bad at opening A/N's so why not just get to the action!

So without further ado, let's get it started!

Chapter 2 - Old Foes and New Friends

Deciding he needed a little break after Knight's romantic gesture, Jaune got up, promising to catch up with the group later as he dragged himself back through the crowded main hall. He finally made it to a table piled high with every type of appetizer he could ever want. Jaune aimed right for the center, a massive punch bowl filled with an unnatural blue liquid. He could only imagine what it tasted like, his mouth watering. He grabbed a cup, carefully dipping the ladle into the liquid and pouring himself a drink. Content with the amount, he turned back to the party to find a place to sit.

He only made it a few feet before he bumped into someone, sending his punch sloshing to the floor. He quickly went to apologize, before freezing in place, a scowl carving itself across his features as his eyes lingered on a familiar face, and for once not just because the man wore his own.

"Fate." he said, his voice clipped.

The look on his former ally turned foe's face was complicated, but even Jaune could tell he wasn't exactly happy to see him. Thankfully the feeling was more than mutual.

"Oh, you're here too." He said, stating the obvious, his hands slipping into the pockets of his white jacket.

"That's right." Jaune confirmed. "What do you think you're doing here?"

"To ogle at some of the most beautiful women in the multiverse, obviously." Fate said with a sly grin. But Jaune knew Fate better than that. The smile and the comments were just as fake as the promise he'd made about not getting involved in the tournament.

"Drop the act, Fate."

Fate rolled his eyes, but Jaune swore he saw the ghost of a smile on his face. "Fine by me. What do you want?"

"What do I want?" Jaune said incredulously, "That's all you have to say after everything that went down? After you nearly cost us the war?!"

"Yeah, kinda." Fate said as he picked at his jacket dismissively. Despite his calm tone, he spoke a little too quickly. "And as much as I would like to hash all this out with you in the middle of everybody, I've got a drill sergeant disguised as a beautiful heiress waiting at a table over there, and if I don't get her a drink in the next two minutes she'll run me ragged." Fate offered as he turned away and began to briskly walk back into the crowd. Jaune went to rebut, to get some semblance of closure with his jaded version. Before he knew it, he was calling after him.

"We're not done here!" He said, his voice raised. If Fate heard it over the dull roar of the crowd, he didn't show it, continuing to make his exit. He couldn't just let it end here.

"Yang still thinks about you!" Jaune blurted out, surprised at the choice of words as he said it. Fate froze mid step, his feet rooted to the floor. He took that as a green light to keep going as he closed the distance.

"She misses you, in her own Yang kind of way. She's still broken up about how things went down. How couldn't she be? You meant a lot to her, even though you certainly did your best to make it clear none of us meant anything to you." He spat as he watched Fate's shoulders rise and fall as he turned around. The mischievous expression was gone, replaced by something far more unsettling. He looked tired, exhausted even. Jaune almost wilted under the broken gaze of those thousand-year-old eyes.

"I never wanted to hurt her. I didn't want to hurt any of them." He began slowly, the voice that once was used to taunt and harass him was now soft and strained. "Let her know that, please."

Jaune went to rebuke him, to scream at him for putting them all at risk. He'd lied to them and thrown them right into the path of Salem's iterations. He'd killed Barista and Leviathan. He'd tried to stab Ruby! His fists balled tightly as he recalled that particular detail. That one he was sure he would never forgive him for. That being said, it didn't look like the other iterations knew about it. It was only him, and Agent, or Rat rather, and it seemed like the director was keeping those cards close to his chest. Jaune pinched the bridge of his nose as Fate's broken gaze bore into him, trying to think of what to do or say.

When Fate had spoken, there was a sincerity in his voice that Jaune found himself unable to question. His confession filled with grief so thick he could almost feel it weighing him down. An unspoken truth hung in the air between them. Fate knew he couldn't make up for what he'd done. He would never be able to. If that was the case, why harp on him for it? As crazy as it sounded, it wasn't the worst way to go. Things worked out, his friends were alive, and Cinder had been stopped. The way he saw it, he had two paths, he could keep the hate he had for Fate in his heart and spend the whole party angry at him, or he could let it go.

He would never see Fate again after tonight, and maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn't want to make himself miserable by living in the past. Fate was proof of what that could do to someone. Jaune was better than that.

"I know, and I'll tell her." Jaune finally said softly, making his choice. A wistful grin spread across Fate's face.

"Let Yang know I made it out." He said, a somber tone in his voice. "I'm free."

Jaune gave him a curt nod, and he and Fate shared one last glance before the time traveler turned away, melting into the crowd around them.

/

Warchief was, for a lack of a better word, miserable.

He knew he shouldn't have been. After all, it was a party, right? For anyone else, having a banquet thrown in your honor would have been a huge occasion. Something wonderful that happened maybe only once or twice in a lifetime.

Sadly, this was Warchief's seventh party thrown for him in the last year.

The months that had followed the Beacon Civil War had been interesting to say the least. In truth, everything had changed for him. Feasts were held in his name, gifts rained down upon him from guys he'd never even met. He was even accompanied by at least three men everywhere he went. Cardin called it a security detail. It was nice when it was in the middle of the night and he was in need of a midnight snack. He found their presence comforting in the daunting moonlit halls of Beacon. The perpetual escorts were far less fun when he had three guys outside his bathroom stall waiting for him to finish up because he was "at risk of being assassinated." Things got even worse once Ren published his life's work, a memoir of the war itself. It made its way around the whole school, culminating in Doctor Oobleck giving a miniature lecture on the subject of how history repeats itself, using the cursed book as a case study.

But if he thought that was bad, Russell's religious manuscript was far worse. Once that one went public, Warchief abandoned any chance he would ever live a normal life again. He'd managed to burn as many copies as he could, but they were like the heads of a hydra. Get rid of one, and two more were bound to take its place. It was all just too much.

This party wasn't making it easier though. Everywhere he went he was surrounded by the thrilling stories of Jaunes doing incredible things. There were kings, sea serpents, karate masters, and even kingdom-renowned coffee shops.

Maybe Ren was right, he thought morosely, Maybe I really am destined for greatness.

He wormed his way through the crowd of party goers as he searched for an exit, or at least a calm place away from all the praise he didn't deserve. Something else caught his eye as he shoved past a Yang he didn't recognize.

Bingo!

Salvation thy name was booze. There was a massive bar on the far wall, shelves stacked high with bottles he could tell were extremely expensive. The countertop was dotted with little gold napkins, and there were plenty of open stools he could sit down at. The bartender had his back turned to him, cleaning one of the glasses. Well, Yang always says a little alcohol is the perfect way to get through a rough night, he recalled as he ditched his initial idea of hiding in favor of something that might be a bit more fun. He'd never really drank alcohol, but he'd had an occasional sip of his Dad's glass back when his father drank in his study.

Anything to forget tonight.

He marched up to the counter and yanked out the stool closest to the center of the bar. The metal seat made a dull rasping sound as he dragged it across the marble floor. "Excuse me," He remarked as he got the attention of the bartender. The man turned around and Warchief chastised himself for being surprised that it was a Jaune. The man gave him an inquisitive look.

"Hi, I'm Jaune." Warchief ventured before cringing. "I-I mean Warchief, sorry." The man extended his hand.

"Jaune Xiong, nice to finally put a face to the name. I'd only heard of you during the tournament."

"We all have the same face." Warchief said dumbly. Xiong rolled his eyes.

"You know what I meant. What can I get you?" he inquired.

Warchief's mouth felt dry. He'd been so concerned with getting wasted, he didn't even know what to drink! Or even what drinks there were. He settled on a safe option.

"Give me something hard. Something that can really get me going." He said as his chest swelled with fake confidence. He flashed a toothy smile at Xiong and the man in question just snorted.

"Something hard, huh?" He said with a wry grin. "You're going to have to be a bit more specific." Warchief could tell from the bartender's expression that he was messing with him. But he'd gotten a lot done through dumb luck and bravado, so he stayed the course.

"Dealer's choice."

Xiong guffawed, finally stopping to wipe at his eye. "You've never had an ounce of alcohol, have you?" Warchief's ears burned, but he was caught, and figured he'd fess up, giving the bartender an embarrassed nod.

"No worries. I've got you covered. One Moshito, Velvet style, coming up." Warchief perked up at the name of the drink as Xiong began to pull bottles from the top shelf of the bar's vast inventory. It was familiar, but something wasn't quite right.

"Isn't it called a Mojito?" He asked as the man began to muddle a few emerald green herbs in a tall thin glass. Xiong gave him a look that screamed I know something that you don't.

"Don't worry about that," He began, "You'll be saying it that way after a few, trust me. Newbies always do." Warchief gulped as he watched Xiong deftly assemble the cocktail, before topping it with a few mint leaves and a slice of lime. The bartender slid it over to him. Warchief's hand dipped into his suit pocket for his wallet, but panicked. He couldn't feel it. He went to tell Xiong but found the man fixing him with a deadpan expression before returning his attention to the bar.

Oh, right. We don't have money here. He remembered as he flushed, and elected instead to sip at the metal straw. His eyes widened as he felt the liquid cross his taste buds. It was delicious. He sipped more, and before he knew it, he'd finished the cocktail. The empty glass clinked as he set it down gently on the countertop, catching Xiong's attention.

"Can't say I'm surprised." the well dressed Jaune remarked. Warchief blushed.

"It was really good. Can I get another?" Xiong gave him an encouraging nod, and began to assemble the cocktail once more. He got through the second just as fast as the first.

"Might want to start slowing down or you'll end up like him," Xiong warned as he jerked a thumb to the far end of the bar. Warchief glanced over and saw a Jaune absolutely slumped over the counter. He wrinkled his nose as he saw what looked like crusted vomit on the man's ragged blazer.

"Who's he?"

"No idea, he was already drunk when I got here." Xiong shrugged as he took Warchief's glass. There were only a few moments of silence before Warchief spoke.

"Where did it all go wrong, Xiong?" he asked sadly as the man in question muddled mint against the side of the glass, preparing his third cocktail. He wasn't sure if it was the alcohol talking, or maybe just his mood, but his mind recalled plenty of movie scenes where the depressed main character took solace in the words of a wise bartender.

He figured it was worth a shot.

Xiong tilted his head. "Once again, you're going to have to be a bit more specific." Warchief rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly.

"Everything. My life's a mess. Nobody sees me for who I really am anymore. It's Warchief this, Warchief that. "Glory to the leader of men." They just see the version of me they want to see. Heck, I can't even use the bathroom in peace anymore!"

Xiong cocked an eyebrow at the last part, but overall he seemed content to listen to him. That being said, Warchief could tell from Xiong's distracted hums that he was just listening to be nice, but he found he didn't mind. It was just nice to finally get these feelings out in the open.

"I'm listening." Xiong said blandly as he turned back to the bar to polish another glass. Warchief took a quick sip of his cocktail before he continued. He detailed how his friends were treating him. How all of a sudden, teachers were commending him and using him as examples. He had a big group of worshippers now to the point where it was just too much.

"Mhm." Xiong agreed as he wiped the bar down. Feeling like he was losing the bartender, Warchief sighed, content to wrap it up.

"It just feels like I'm a fraud and nobody can tell. It just sucks so much." To his surprise, Xiong froze mid movement.

"Run that last part by me again?" he requested. Warchief shrugged, confused.

"Run what by you? It just sucks so much?" Xiong shook his head.

"No, before that," he insisted.

"Oh, that I felt like I was a fraud, and nobody could tell?"

Xiong nodded at him, and for the first time since he'd sat down, Warchief felt like he had his full attention.

"How did you say all this came about again?" Xiong inquired. Warchief laughed.

"I can't believe I didn't start with that. Well, it started a few months ago…"

Xiong listened intently as Warchief regaled him with the tale of the Beacon Civil War, and his unlikely rise to godhood among his male peers. He made sure to include every detail he could recall from Ren's book, even the more embarrassing parts. By the time he was done, from the look in his eyes he couldn't help but feel Xiong was regarding him in a new light.

"That's some story. A man in over his head finding out there's no way out of his situation except to continue falling upward until it all sorts itself out. Sounds familiar." He snorted.

Warchief gave him a nod. "That's the jist of it." Xiong laid a hand on his shoulder, barely concealed excitement dancing in his eyes like two blue flames.

"Stay put for a minute, you're not going to believe this." Warchief raised his eyebrows, befuddled as he watched Xiong smoothly exit from behind the bar and enter the mass of people. He'd only been waiting for a little while when Xiong returned, dragging two other iterations in tow. Warchief hummed as he recognized them. Xiong was dragging the right arm of Headmaster, and in his other arm was a Jaune he recognized as Revolutionary. He hadn't known him long, only meeting the activist a few times during the tournament. Regardless, he was intrigued, if also a bit anxious at why Xiong was so eager to suddenly grab them.

"Sorry for the wait," he said as he slid back behind the bar, the two other men taking a seat on Warchief's right and left respectively. "But I have some people I want you to meet." Warchief fixed him with a puzzled look.

"I met Revolutionary and I've heard of Headmaster already."

Xiong just chuckled as he began to pour wine for the two new guests. "Do you really know them though?" Warchief's lips pressed tightly together. He didn't really, did he? Interested in figuring out what Xiong was getting at, he turned to the two other Jaunes, who were fixing him with mysterious smiles.

"Why don't you tell Headmaster and Revolutionary the story you told me. Tell them how you're feeling, too." Xiong requested as he scooped ice out of a cooler into a glass of his own. Warchief figured he'd play along and began to recount the story once again, now with a new audience. He made sure to include his imposter syndrome as well. When he was done, the two were grinning at him.

"What?"

Headmaster took an elegant sip of his glass and laid a hand on Warchief's shoulder, before fixing Xiong with a glance.

"Now I see why you brought us over." He joked before turning his gaze back to Warchief. "You've got nothing to be upset about. We know how you feel." Warchief couldn't help but roll his eyes.

"Thanks, but I'm not exactly sure how the legendary headmaster of Beacon academy can relate to a fake like me." He said solemnly. To his surprise, the two just laughed.

"We have a lot more in common than you think." Headmaster assured him. "I'm curious, what did you hear about me when you were on Ozpin's side during the tournament? I'm sure you were involved in a lot of their plans." Warchief stroked his chin as he reflected on the question.

"They gathered that you were a master strategist, unreadable in every interaction they had with you. Nobody was ever quite able to tell what you were planning, but they knew it had to be genius. They were afraid of you, feeling that you were always one step ahead. They had no idea how you did it, I didn't either." He finished. Headmaster gave an exhausted chuckle.

"That sounds about right. But I'm sure you also know I had access to Ozpin's files on every iteration during the tournament." He waited for Warchief to nod before he continued. "Do you want to know Ironwood's assessment of you?" Content to go along with the ride, Warchief gave an affirmative grunt. Headmaster cleared his throat.

"The files said you were unmatched when it came to strategic planning, besting even the most difficult military simulations. You scored a perfect one hundred on their aptitude exam. Specialists said you passed several interrogation tests with flying colors. Ironwood himself commented that in every exercise, you were miles ahead of his keenest military minds. I believe the word they used was genius."

Warchief contemplated the words, desperate to understand the game Headmaster was playing. Thankfully, he didn't have to wait for long.

"Now who does that sound like to you?" The older man said with a coy smile. Warchief froze. It…it sounded like him, didn't it? It wasn't quite verbatim, but the similarities were uncanny. But surely that was just a coincidence, right? Everything Ironwood had deduced about him wasn't true. All those simulations, they were just dumb luck. Heck, he'd guessed for almost every single question on that aptitude exam. Headmaster's had to be true. He'd managed to scare Fate; he was powerful enough to make even Ozpin worry. But there was something he was missing. In his experience, Xiong only made calculated moves. He wouldn't have brought the professor here without a reason. Headmaster said they had a lot in common, and if he knew Warchief was a fake, then could he possibly be saying–

"Are you like me?" Warchief blurted out nervously.

"Get the man a prize!" Headmaster crowed as he clapped a hand on Warchief's back. The younger man shook his head.

"But that's not possible. Your plans–"

"Were just me making stuff up as I went! I was terrified the whole time. I could've been killed at any moment. My friends could've been killed at any time." Headmaster exclaimed, running a nervous hand through his hair. "I wanted out of the god's game the second I realized I was in it. Heck, one wrong move and Knight would've turned me into a red mist! There was not a single moment I was in control of anything." He said, nearly whimpering towards the end as he reflected on the brutal nature of the royale.

Warchief looked at him like he'd grown a second head as Headmaster's eyes fell on him.

"Welcome to the Bullshitter Brigade!" the teacher cheered as he extended his hand. To Warchief's surprise, Revolutionary and even Xiong laid their hands atop his, like a team hyping themselves up after a motivational speech.

"Wait, you're…you're all like me!?" He said, bewildered as his eyes flicked to the other two Jaunes.

"That's right." Revolutionary grinned, "We're all charlatans, just like you."

Needless to say, Warchief's mind was blown by the revelation. "But how? You're the leader of the White Fang. Ozpin and Ironwood said you helped bring humans and faunus together all across Remnant."

Revolutionary nodded. "I did do that, yeah. But I didn't start out that way. I was just a kid in a store who did something really stupid."

Warchief scoffed in disbelief. "What could you have possibly done that was stupid enough to wind up as the leader of a worldwide terrorist organization?"

Revolutionary just coughed awkwardly. "I uh, kinda stabbed Adam Taurus when he wasn't looking, and he… died. The White Fang that were with him decided to make me their new leader on the spot and it was off to the races from there. I didn't even get to go to Beacon like you, I was just minding my own business one second, and thrown into the life of a terrorist the next."

Warchief gaped at him. "That's insane."

Xiong barked out a laugh. "No more insane than becoming a being worshiped like a masculine god after winning a glorified school recess activity. Fact of the matter is, kid, nothing that happened to any of us makes sense." Warchief's head snapped back to Headmaster.

"What about you?"

The older man just took a slow sip from his wine glass. "I only applied to Beacon as a student. Like you, I forged my transcripts. Unlike you, I forged them a little too well."

Warchief cocked his head. "How well is too well?"

"They felt I was overqualified to be a student and ended up making me a teacher."

Warchief gasped. "But I had no experience when I went to Beacon. That means you didn't have any!" he protested, "How did you end up becoming the Headmaster?"

The man in question just laughed and swept his arms to the side. "I wish I could tell you. Truth is, I kept lying and things just kept working out. Even when they got bad, I always ended up on top. The craziest part is, once I tried to confess, nobody even believed me. Not even General Ironwood."

At that moment, Warchief thought he might weep tears of joy. Xiong was right to call these two over. He'd scoffed at the notion originally, but he was right. They really were just like him. "I tried telling the teachers the same thing, but they thought I was just being modest." Warchief expressed as Revolutionary laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Learn to enjoy it. I know it sounds hard, but try to leave the imposter syndrome behind. You might just end up growing into their expectations, but I guess Xiong would be a better person to talk to about that."

The bartender in question met his eyes before he let out a long sigh. "Like these two delinquents, I just wanted to be a huntsman."

Warchief noted the pause. "And did you become one?" Xiong chuckled.

"Not even close." Xiong chuckled as he took a sip of his cocktail. "I got mugged on my first day and lost Dad's sword. Thankfully, there were people willing to help me get back on my feet. But just like with these two, things started happening and before I knew it, I was a mob boss."

The younger Jaune spluttered, sending Moshito all over the countertop. "You're cleaning that up." Xiong groaned. Headmaster and Revolutionary's stories were wild, but this blew them out of the water. He knew Xiong had underworld connections, but he didn't know they ran that deep.

"A mob boss! Like the ones from those old Spruce Willis movies?" Xiong gave him a nod as he grabbed a rag from under the counter.

"The same. It was the last thing I wanted, but I wasn't exactly given an option. I made mistakes constantly. But after a while, I realized I couldn't afford to mess up anymore, I had people relying on me. There were lives on the line. The gang, they ended up becoming like family. Eventually I ditched the idea that I couldn't do it, and embraced the person I was becoming. For better or for worse." Warchief noted how quiet it got as he turned to glance at the other two men inquisitively.

"I had a similar experience, at a logging camp for faunus workers." Revolutionary said, a complicated expression scrawled across his face. "Things got very real very fast, and all of a sudden, I wasn't just a fraud anymore, I was an activist who people looked to to help them achieve a better life. I was putting their hopes and dreams on my shoulders." Warchief shuddered, imagining what could've gone down at that camp.

"Hate to sound like a broken record," Headmaster began, "But the same thing happened to me. My family found out about my job as a teacher and they came to Beacon to take me back to Ansel. At that point, Cinder was already scheming to destroy the school, and while I was a faker, I was also a teacher with students that depended on me. I ended up fighting our dad tooth and nail for the chance to remain at Beacon."

"You fought dad?" Warchief gasped. Headmaster nodded.

"He's as tough as you think he is. I had bruises for days, but the win was worth it. I got to stay, and finish what I started."

"W-Wait, you won?" Warchief said in disbelief. Headmaster winked at him.

"Yep." He said, popping the "p". "In a fair fight he would've washed me, but thankfully, when you've got nothing but lies and tricks up your sleeve, you learn to fight dirty."

Warchief was silent for a few moments as he reflected on their respective pasts. So similar, yet so different. They all came from different walks of life, but were bound in destiny by their unshakable charisma, and willingness to adapt to whatever situation was put in front of them.

"How did you deal with it?" He asked, his voice small. "I feel like I'm going insane here. Everyone expects so much from me. In their heads I'm this grand figure. How can I ever live up to who they think I am? I didn't want any of this."

Headmaster gave him a sympathetic smile. "None of us really wanted this either. But, believe it or not, I wouldn't change a single thing, and I'm pretty sure these two wouldn't either." He said, jerking a thumb at Xiong and Revolutionary. "But to answer your question, I just went with the flow. I adapted. Did the best with the hand I was dealt. I messed up sometimes, sure, but I just kept moving forward. You're the same soul as us, which means you can do it too."

"Well said," Xiong remarked. "But I don't quite agree that I wouldn't change a single thing. A lot of people died for me to get where I am, some of them good people. There've been many nights where I wish I could've done it over, but the fact of the matter is that I can't. Thankfully, I didn't have to go it alone. I had people who believed in me despite the fact that I had no experience. That was what helped me get through it. Miltia and Melanie, the two bouncers at my club, and Tony helped me each step of the way. I had people who were willing to give me advice. Despite our lack of knowledge, we're fast learners."

Warchief gave him a shrug. "But I don't really have anybody like that. Nobody else knows I'm a fake. If anything, they make it a lot worse." He said as his mind drifted to Russell and Cardin, who were probably distributing copies of "The Book of Jaune" as they spoke.

"I'm sure you'll find someone, though." Revolutionary cut in with a grin. "And even if you don't, you have us now .We'll always understand. As for me, I dealt with it by looking at the bigger picture. Yeah I was forced into a role I didn't want and actively tried to escape, but once I saw how I could make a real difference in people's lives, I couldn't help but try and make the world a better place. Even if it was a little unorthodox." He grinned sheepishly. "But Headmaster's right, even if I had the chance to go back, I wouldn't do it differently."

"Agreed." Xiong grunted as he poured himself another glass of amaretto on the rocks. Warchief couldn't help but ruminate over their words. Maybe he wasn't cursed. Maybe this whole Jaunehalla thing wasn't so stupid after all. Ok scratch that, it was stupid. But maybe there was something there. If they all made the best of their situations, which seemed a lot worse than his, then maybe he'd be alright after all. They'd all used their situations, their "curses" to help the world. Isn't that exactly what he wanted to do? To be the hero like his father, like his ancestors?

Yeah. He did.

Xiong refilled each of their respective drinks before striking his own glass with a spoon, catching their attention. "How about a toast? Warchief, why don't you do the honors?"

The boy in question flushed at being put on the spot, but weakly raised his glass.

"Here's…to newfound friends, and shared destinies. I'm lucky to have you guys." His three drinking buddies grinned with pride.

"Here here!" They cheered as the air was filled with the sound of clinking glasses.

That's 2/6 down! No omake this time sadly, but I have a few more in the tank. This chapter was so much fun to write. Well, they all were, but this one especially. I've always loved the faker type Jaunes and getting them all in one place for a conversation just felt like a no brainer. They really do have a lot in common, and having our grizzled ciaphas cain stand ins doing their best to pay it forward to poor Warchief was just too wholesome for me to pass up.

But before I talk more about the chapter, I would be remiss to not talk about Fate. I don't really know how this first Fate scene is going to be received. So to be candid, I don't really love Fate in Arc Royale. I feel that he did some crazy things that REALLY didn't align with who he was as a character, especially stabbing Ruby, that was absolutely crazy. But I couldn't just not have him in the fic, and Not This Time, Fate is by far my favorite Coeur fic. So while this isn't quite a band-aid fix, I think it's a decent way to close out his actions in Arc Royale.

Jaune makes it clear that Fate is not going to be forgiven, and Fate accepts that, only wishing to convey his regret.

Rest assured, some of his actions will still be brought up later down the line in the fic, but like Jaune said, spending the entire time being mad at him isn't something I want to do, and from here on out Fate will be acting much more like the version of him from Not This Time, Fate.

Once again here's the index:

Fate - Jaune from Not This Time, Fate

Warchief - Jaune from The Beacon Civil War

Xiong - Jaune from The Self Made Man

Drunkard - Jaune from Three Sheets to the Wind

Revolutionary - Jaune from A Rabbit Among Wolves

Thanks again for reading. I always like y'all's comments, reviews, and favorites. You guys motivate me to keep writing. Let me know what you thought of this chapter.

Next time - Jaunes of the Round Table (It's a long one.)