Just another work Tuesday where people burst into my office and demand help because – dum, dum, dum! – there's a huge spider in the women's bathroom. Fml. So I roll my eyes, go in and holy fkn shit it's an ACTUAL tarantula. Like, an escaped pet tarantula or something. Had to seal off the toilet and call some local pet store to capture it for us.

My face all like "ffs you're so pathetic" about my staff when I walk in compared to my face of "omfg that's a big ass spider" when I come running back out. Seriously, though, they could have elaborated on "big spider" since I just assumed it'd be a normal spider of some mildly average size and not a hairy thing the size of my hand.

Kinda wish I'd taken a photo but I was a little too alarmed for that. Later told it wasn't venomous and probably would have died if it wasn't rescued, so happy ending I suppose. They're definitely not native to the area so must have been a pet.

Chapter 16

Jaune returned with simple clothes for Willow, little more than a pale brown dress with a darker brown travelling cloak. It wasn't fit for travel, but there could be no complaining when it was the generosity of locals who had little to spare in the first place. If this were Vale, he'd have been turned away entirely, but the people of Mistral knew what it was like to suffer, and so they did their best to help even as poor as they were.

Winter didn't complain, thankfully, and he allowed her to change with his back turned. He could tell she'd kept her trousers and boots on under the dress from seeing her feet, but that was fine. The important part was covering up all the white of her uniform and her hair, the latter of which she covered with the cloak's hood.

"Hair dye would have been better," she said. "Did they not have any?"

"This is a frontier village in the wilderness," he replied, as if that answered everything. It did in his mind but evidently did not in hers, so he continued. "There's but one store in the village and it sells things essential for survival, not beauty products."

Winter hummed. "I suppose things are different with the war on."

Did she think that the reason? The store wouldn't have wasted shelf space on things like that even in peacetime. There were only so many shipments from the city coming to any small outpost like this, and transport space was precious. Food, medicine, clothing and machinery took up too much. For a place this small, half the size of Ansel, they'd be lucky to have ordered in scented soap. More likely, they'd cleaned themselves with water, animal fat and herbs.

To someone from the city, that must have seemed positively medieval, but it was all down to cost and availability. You made do with what you had and only ordered things you couldn't substitute locally. He'd heard it was different in the city. His sisters had always longed to go visit and shop in the mythical malls and shopping centres they'd read about online.

"The war has made things difficult," Jaune said, content to let her believe that was what it was for now. It really didn't matter. "We shouldn't expect much generosity from the local people, though even this is more than what was received in Vale."

"Really? I thought Vale had been mostly spared the war."

"It has, but there are many refugees and the local population is less than welcoming of them." He avoided mention of the drafts and recruitment since that would inevitably prompt her to ask why he hadn't been drafted. "It's a little disappointing that I've seen more sympathy for our fellow man here than in my home country. Does the clothing fit? Will you be good to walk?"

Winter tested herself with that, walking slowly and stiffly from one side of their camp to the other. The ankle-length skirt didn't give her much freedom of movement but it was better than being seen in uniform.

"It's good enough. I won't be much use in a fight, however."

"You should avoid that until you heal regardless."

"Yes. Speaking of..." She poked at her side and winced predictably at the feeling. Jaune rolled his eyes. "What did you do here? Stitches?"

"Only butterfly ones from your pack. I assumed your aura would take care of the rest."

A small lie. He'd used the butterfly stitches as he said, but he'd also injected a little of his aura into her meridians. A tiny amount, just enough to kickstart her flagging reserves, but not enough to risk harming her. Master Ren had warned him that medical use of aura was much more complicated than that, and he didn't dare experiment on a wounded patient.

A tiny amount of his aura had served almost like a contagion, being recognised by her body as an invading force and, so, her aura had promptly and unconsciously rushed to the area to fight it. Once it had, he'd sealed the meridians around it to keep it locked there for a few hours. Essentially, he had tricked her aura to respond to the area and then kept it there so it could focus on healing her body. An elegant solution, or so he felt.

"I'm no doctor so I wouldn't know how long it'll take to heal. I expect it'll depend on your aura."

"I will check it when we make camp tonight," she said, taking her hands away. "It'll need cleaning regardless. Thank you for what you did. I'm not sure if I've truly expressed that yet."

"You did, and it's fine. I need nothing for it."

Winter nodded and, to his relief, did not press the issue. How could one accurately repay someone for saving their life? Jaune didn't know. He had always felt he owed Master Ren more, but his mentor would not hear it. He felt he might understand that sentiment now, for if Winter had sworn herself indebted to him then he'd have only felt uncomfortable. He had saved her for no reason other than he thought it right, and to expect a reward now was mercenary.

Jaune focused on breaking camp while Winter stiffly refilled their waterskins and struggled with the lack of work assigned to her. They both knew she wasn't fit for it, however, so she forced herself to silence. Her discipline was strong. Once the camp was packed away, Jaune shouldered his belongings and allowed her to carry the few things she owned, which seemed to comfort her a little.

Had he told her of how much distance he could travel on his own, that comfort would have been short-lived. Winter's pace was good, even for someone wounded. She was a soldier and thus no stranger to long marches, but her steady pace, designed for eating up miles with even energy expenditure, paled in comparison to what he could accomplish burning aura as fuel. They made good time by the standards of most men, but poor by his own. Still, there was no immediate rush, and his supplies were good, so he kept to her pace and concealed his lack of effort by breathing a little heavier as the hours went by.

Compared to how he'd been before, Winter might as well have been superhuman. The Jaune Arc of old would have been curled up weeping around his injury, and even healthy he would have grown tired an hour ago. Winter clutched the straps of her pack and forced one foot before the other, eyes hard and focused ahead, and lips sealed in a tight frown. Only the barest sheen of sweat on her creased brow indicated the mounting discomfort from her injury.

Even so, he did not demand they stop and rest. Winter knew her body better than he could, and she was military. He trusted her to have the wisdom to know when to stop.

/-/

It was several hours later, with the sun beginning to come down in the evening sky, that they came across the telltale glow of a village in the distance. Really, it was more of a hamlet of some fifteen houses around a central grass circle, but it was civilisation. Winter sucked in a breath and touched her side.

"Shall we stay here for the night?" he asked.

"It would be ideal but... with this being conquered territory, how safe will it be for us?"

"Safer than camping outside the village and looking ten times as suspicious," he returned. Winter hummed. "We can approach. I think if Menagerie's forces were here, we'd see some vehicles to carry them. Most have moved on to the front lines."

"Very well. Let's see how well this disguise works."

The tiny hamlet was sparsely populated and there wasn't much in the way of an inn or a tavern by which to stay at. The central green area between the houses had been rather rapidly converted into a vegetable garden, it seemed, and Jaune wrinkled his nose at the telltale stench of manure heaped across it.

A few children looked their way curiously, but no one seemed overly afraid of the duo, perhaps because they weren't wearing uniforms of either side. Travellers might be rare, but at least they weren't here to start conflict. The harder part was convincing the locals they weren't here to take food.

"We have our own food," Jaune told a burly farmer. "We were just looking for somewhere to stay for tonight before we move on tomorrow. We can pay."

"Lien is worthless right now." The farmer was gruff but not rude. A far cry from in Vale. "Look, we're all doing what we can to survive right now, but if you're willing to pay in food then I might know a couple that can put you up for the night. Show me you're honest and I'll put a word in for you."

His "honesty" was proven with a bribe of a prepackaged ready meal. It was a remainder from the logging camp in Vale, and little more than a store-bought ready meal fit for a microwave, and yet the farmer looked at it as if it were solid gold. He quickly drew them away to talk to an elderly couple, each in their nineties, to explain their situation.

A deal was soon struck – the couple would let them stay the night if Jaune and Winter would provide the food for all four of them. Jaune shook their hands and the elderly couple showed them to their modest home, where they were granted a room to share. It seemed they'd been assumed as married.

"Our grandchildren have all moved out," said the old woman. "And the faunus took half of what food everyone had. Not enough to starve us, but enough that everyone is subsisting right now. It's been so long since we had real meat."

"I could see about hunting tonight," Jaune offered.

"You'd only put yourself in danger, lad," said the old man. "One of the village boys snuck out to hunt with an old rifle, got spotted by Menagerie soldiers, and they assumed he was a sniper. Killed him dead, they did."

"Polite enough to bring the body back and apologise to his family," said his wife. "Not sure if that's a kindness or not, but at least his family knew what happened to him. Course, they made it clear the ones that did it wouldn't be punished. Honest mistake, they said."

Neither of them quite knew how to respond to that so Jaune distracted the couple with some food, asking if they could retire to clean off their travel. The couple allowed it, though it turned out the baths here were old copper tubs heated up.

"No plumbing out here, I'm afraid. There was meant to be, but the village was only really half complete when the war kicked off, and then... well... I guess it got pushed back."

Jaune offered to fill the tub, not wanting the two older people to do it, and a few quick trips back and forth to the well in the centre of the village with a bucket was enough to accomplish that. On the last, he was surprised to find Winter sitting topless but for a sports bra, and entirely unashamed of showing herself to him.

"Can you help take the bandage off?" she asked, having drawn and pinned her hair back.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?"

Winter eyed him suspiciously, then snorted once she realised why he was hesitating. "One of the first things you learn in the army is not to get too bothered about privacy. I've shared showers with hundreds of other women, and sometimes had to share them with men as well. I'm injured. Propriety can wait."

That was enough to have Jaune feeling silly for having considered it in the first place, so he knelt behind her and started unwinding the bandage from around her body. Winter's skin was unusually pale, but he got the feeling that was genetic. Her body was tight and taut with muscle and the occasional scar, a warrior's body more than it was a woman's. Lifting one arm up, she stretched her side, looking down at the red skin there.

"The wound has closed already," she whispered, surprised. "So quickly. I can't believe it."

"Should the stitches be removed?"

"They'll come off in the water," she said. "Was it not as deep as I feared? I thought for sure I'd taken a fatal wound."

It had been. "It must have been your aura fixing it," he said, and it wasn't a lie since her aura had done this. He'd just controlled how much of it she kept in the area beyond what a huntress could do. "It still looks a little sore so I'd take care of it for another day at least."

"I've never healed this quickly before..." Winter poked at it, then looked at him. "Did you do something?"

Meditative breathing kept his breathing and heartrate even. "Like what?" he asked. "If I had a Semblance to heal, you wouldn't have woken up injured in the first place. You did feel it when you woke up."

"Hngh. True. You're right, it's probably my aura. Perhaps the near-death experience made it work harder or faster."

It was a half-hearted solution and yet the only other option was a Semblance. At least to her knowledge. Winter had grown up in a city where the only method of aura use was the way of a huntsman, and so she knew the same things every other huntress did, and believed the world worked solely by that logic.

If he told her the things he could do, she would think him some quack peddling mysticism and nonsense, like those "spiritual healers" who claimed they could rid a person of disease by the power of prayer – and in exchange for lien. He might as well try and convince her that gravity didn't exist.

So, she would either accept her aura had done this or she'd assume he had a Semblance he wanted to keep hidden so as to avoid conscription. It didn't matter which, and she let him go light wood to heat up the tub. Winter peeled her clothing off with no regard for him, and chuckled under her breath when he stiffly turned the other way and sat down. He heard her slowly dip herself into the water and release a groan of pleasure. After a day's travel and a night spent injured, her muscles must have been hard as concrete.

"I needed this," she said, breathing out a heady sigh. "I thought for sure we were all dead when they caught us. Damn faunus."

Jaune shifted uncomfortably. "Are there no faunus in Atlas' military?"

Winter hesitated. "There are. I shouldn't have said that. Forgive me, I'm... I've lost my squad and spoke poorly. There are good faunus," she said. "I've worked with them. Brave men and women who put up with more than enough racism without me adding to it. But it's so easy to see them all as the enemy when the army marching against you proudly call themselves the faunus' army."

"Do they?"

"Yes. They claim they fight for all faunus worldwide, going so far as to ignore all the faunus in other countries who have denounced them and their ways. They fight for themselves, for ego and for some twisted notion of justice."

"And what do you fight for?"

"I – we – fight in the defence of our homeland and our way of life." A hint of anger slipped into her voice at what she must have seen as him doubting her. "We didn't start this war. The faunus attacked first, striking a military camp and capturing and killing our soldiers in a terrorist attack."

"Terrorists? I know this is a war but can you name the other side terrorists? They're just soldiers of the enemy army."

"Not like this, they're not. They may have called it a declaration of war, and they may argue it was somehow acceptable because they struck a military target instead of at civilians, but that doesn't change what it is. In times of peace, military personnel are civilians. They're civilians in a heightened state of readiness, but we weren't at war." Winter growled angrily. "They massacred recruits going through basic training and have the gall to act like it was an honourable move."

"What would Atlas have done?"

"We would have reached out diplomatically first. Failing that, we'd at least threaten war before we declared it – and we would declare it before an attack. That's how things are done." Huffing, she sank into the water. "At least, it's how things were done. Everyone knows rules break apart in war, especially as things get worse, but they usually take time to do that. Mass casualties and deadlocks lead people to make terrible decisions in the name of desperation or necessity. This isn't the same. The faunus – no, Menagerie – started this war intending to break every rule. They haven't even pretended otherwise."

A part of Jaune wanted to point out that, as Atlas was the military superpower, it would be a ridiculous idea to ever fight them by any notions of fairness. You couldn't expect an army with less troops and less funding to fight on an open battlefield where they would be massacred.

But he didn't. His only interactions with Menagerie had been through Blake first and then Adam, and while one had been good, the other had not, and even those two instances weren't enough to form a real opinion on.

Blake had struck because the village he saved had murdered two of her people, but did that justify slaughtering them to a man? Adam had been willing to let refugees go, but he did so knowing they'd find no solace in Vale and wanting to force that pressure on the ally of their enemy.

I don't know enough about how this started or what's been done to be able to say anything here.

Debating with Winter was folly when she'd lived through this and he hadn't.

"The war was very distant to me," he said. "I hardly knew anything of it when it started..."

Water sloshed as Winter moved in the tub. "You said you lived in Vale. How are things there?"

"Tense. Menagerie raids the southern coasts to punish us for allying with Atlas, and Vale's own people are being recruited en masse to an army. Huntsmen and huntresses have been drawn back to protect key areas, leaving villages to rot. My father was drafted along with most of the fighting men in Ansel, and when the Grimm came... well, there was nothing we could do. My family never stood a chance. My mother tried to buy us time but she... well... she was just a housewife."

"Did anyone else survive?"

"Not to my knowledge. It was me, mom and my sisters. Seven of them. And a whole load of Grimm. Ansel would have been able to fight them off before but there was no one left who could fight, and no huntsmen for miles. The city needed them. Or the army. Who even knows at this point. I personally think the city just wants to protect itself in case Menagerie attacks, and they've abandoned the rest of the country."

Winter cursed softly. "That would never be allowed in Atlas. I'll speak to General Ironwood when I get back and ask him what our ally is doing. They're not even committing troops, so I don't see why they need to draw people away from other parts of the kingdom."

"I assumed they were mobilising."

"No. We never asked them to. Our problem... Troop numbers isn't our problem right now. We outnumber the faunus, and we equipped better than them as well. We have more vehicles, and complete air superiority. But they... they..." Winter fell back with a splash. "I don't know how to put it. It's like every single one of them has some form of huntsman training. Even the weakest seems capable of fighting off two of our soldiers. How? They don't even have an academy!"

They had something better. Jaune didn't say it. What good would it do? He'd either be asked to combat them by teaching Atlas soldiers, or he'd start a witch hunt for anyone from a Sect for the same reasons. It did make him wonder if Atlas had their own and, if they did, why they hadn't come forward to support their kingdom. Maybe, like Master Ren, they considered themselves above such things. Or maybe they'd abandoned their ways in favour of integrating into Atlas long, long ago.

"Sorry for ranting," she said, calming down. "It's just frustrating."

"I can imagine. You've lost people you were close to."

"This war has taken from both of us," she replied. "But that's why we need to bring it to an end. We didn't start this, and Menagerie are the ones invading and pushing through Mistral to reach us. If this continues..." Winter trailed off.

"They'll reach Atlas?"

"No." Her voice was cold, but not cruel. Almost... worried. "It won't get that far," she said. "If this continues, if they truly threaten the homeland, then Atlas will respond with more desperate measures. We have air superiority as I said. There have already been targeted strikes on Menagerie, mostly on weapons factories, but there are some calling for a more indiscriminate approach."

Jaune felt cold. "Bombing the people...?"

"General Ironwood has rejected it. But General Ironwood is losing. Menagerie is pushing us back. If he's replaced with any one of a dozen war hawk generals, they'll try and bring this war to an end by erasing every last spec of faunus life on Menagerie."

"That is too extreme."

"I agree. A lot of people in Atlas feel the same way. But... there are an ever growing number of people who have lost family. Holding to the right course of action when you have lost your family to the enemy... I haven't felt it myself, but if I lost my own brother or sister, I think I'd call for their deaths as well."

Winter continued washing herself in silence after that devastating statement. Jaune lost himself in meditation, wondering what he could possibly say in response. To bathe women and children in fire was horrific, and yet he knew well the pain of a family torn away. How could he expect someone who had lost everything to speak out in defence of their family's killers? Atlas was being reserved in not having done this already. That wouldn't last forever.

It's none of my business. This is between Menagerie and Atlas. Winter says Menagerie started it, but I'm sure they would argue the other way if I asked them. Both sides think themselves in the right. Both sides will think their means and methods justified.

It wasn't like one man could put a stop to this, either. It sounded like this General Ironwood character was trying to, but if a military commander couldn't end the war, then one wandering martial artist certainly wouldn't be able to. The best he could do was help a few people along the way, as he was with Winter.

A knock came at the door. Water splashed as Winter made to get up, but Jaune stood without turning. "I'll get it. You should enjoy yourself."

"Hmm." Winter sat back with a gentle slosh of water, and Jaune quickly opened the door and slid out.

The elderly woman was there.

And she looked worried.

"I'm sorry to disturb your wife's bath," she said, "but there are some faunus from Menagerie that have arrived in the village."

Jaune's pulse quickened. "Is that all?"

"It is but... well... they are asking to be put up for the night, and it's not as though we can disagree. Our neighbours have covered for us, said we have travellers staying, but it might be wise for you to not venture outside." The woman glanced away and then back. "No one is going to ask questions, but your wife and you carry weapons, and that could make the soldiers nervous. We don't want strife here."

"I understand, ma'am. We'll gladly stay indoors. Or, if you'd rather us leave..."

"No. No, that's not it. You're generous and young. You should stay. But you have to understand that if they demand to see you..." The woman smiled weakly. "There will be nothing we can do to stop them. I hope you understand."

"I do." Jaune bowed to her. "And you have our thanks for the roof over our heads."

Once the woman had left, Jaune slipped back inside with his eyes on the ceiling. Winter had stepped out the bath and gotten dressed, however, and he finally glanced back down. Her hair was wet and tied in a rough ponytail behind her, and she was wringing it out with her bare hands.

"Problem?" she asked.

"Menagerie soldiers are in the houses." Winter's hands froze and her eyes sharpened. "They don't know about us yet," he told her. "And it'll stay that way as long as we don't do anything reckless. Or vengeful," he added.

"They killed my squad."

"And you killed theirs. Don't kill the couple who offered you hospitality, or the man who patched you back up."

"Hngh." Winter clenched her eyes shut. "Fine. We'll do it your way. But if any of them get in my way, I won't hesitate to defend myself."

That was all he could ask. Jaune moved past her and closed the shutters on the windows, then drew the curtains. The room was small, but that would work to their advantage. The soldiers wouldn't be coming here to stay but would be repositioning to another part of their battleline. This would be a temporary camp overnight for them, and they'd be off again come morning. Like them, they might even reward the locals with some food from their supplies.

Winter understood that, but as her eyes drifted to her weapon, Jaune had the sinking suspicion she wasn't as unaffected by the loss of her own squad as she gave off. Drawing a fresh roll of bandages from her medical kit, he knelt behind her and bid her draw her top up, then focused on rolling it around her back, where she took it and completed the circle before passing it back under her other armpit.

Little was said and little had to be said. When Jaune gave her the bed, she didn't protest, but when he set his sleeping bag at the door, blocking it should she try and sneak out, her frown made it clear she knew, and what she thought of it. He wouldn't allow her to start a war in this hamlet, however. The people here did not deserve it.

Next Chapter: 27th August

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