Chapter 6: Love is the Death of Duty
Reviews:
Phantom117a: I'll go back and fix that spelling mistake later, lol
wearedeadpool: I think we all do sometimes
MereC55: Unfortunately, tragedy will always follow these two!
Ichika Orimura archangel king: I am so sorry for the long wait, but here it is! Chapter 6!
A/N:
Hey everyone! I want to apologize for the long wait on this story. I ended up putting it on the back burner for a while as I focused on other projects, and I feel a bit bad about that. But rest assured, I haven't forgotten about it, and I'll definitely be continuing updates!
Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy today's chapter!
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Jaune was in the midst of assisting Dr. Oobleck with reorganizing a cluttered array of textbooks onto their shelves. Having been chosen to help that day, he diligently placed each book back in its rightful spot while Dr. Oobleck worked on clearing the blackboard, erasing the remnants of the day's lesson.
As Dr. Oobleck set down the eraser, he turned his attention to the young blonde. "Mr. Arc, may I ask you a question?" Oobleck inquired, his voice tinged with curiosity.
Jaune paused his task and looked up, a bit surprised. "Sure, Doctor," he responded, placing a book on the shelf.
"Why did you choose to become a Huntsman?" Oobleck's gaze was steady as he adjusted his glasses.
Jaune froze for a moment, then glanced at his teacher with a hint of confusion. "Sir?" he asked.
"It's a question I pose to my students from time to time," Oobleck explained, his expression thoughtful.
Jaune resumed shelving the books, his movements slightly slower as he pondered the question. "I... I want to be a hero," he admitted quietly.
"A hero?" Oobleck repeated, intrigued. "Does this aspiration have something to do with your family?" he probed gently.
Jaune nodded, his expression reflecting a mix of pride and nostalgia. "Yes," he said. "My great-great-grandfather fought in the Great War. He was a hero, and... I want to follow in his footsteps."
Oobleck gave a nod, his expression lighting up with recognition. "Ah, yes... Alexander Arc, the very man who secured the ground upon which we now train the next generation of Huntsmen and Huntresses," he said, a touch of reverence in his voice. "His statue still stands proudly in the courtyard—a constant reminder of the hero he was in his time."
Jaune felt a swell of pride in his chest, a warmth he often carried when thinking of his ancestor. "Yeah, I visit it from time to time," Jaune replied, a small smile forming. "The Great War may have been the only battle where his name made it into the history books, but it's still something my family holds onto, it's still something we're proud of."
Oobleck tapped a finger thoughtfully against his chin, eyes narrowing in contemplation. "I see," he mused before asking, "Tell me, Mr. Arc, is it true that your great-great-grandfather faced a difficult choice during that final battle? Was he not forced to decide between staying to aid the warrior king in that crucial moment or abandoning his duty to rush back home and protect his village, his family?"
Jaune nodded slowly, a familiar weight settling on his shoulders as he spoke. "Yes, that's right, but... to this day, most of my family still doesn't know which path he chose,"
Oobleck's eyes gleamed with curiosity, leaning forward slightly. "And what doyouthink, Mr. Arc?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. "If Alexander Arc had to choose between his honor as a knight, standing beside the warrior king, and the safety of those he loved—his family, his village—what do you believe he would have done?"
Jaune paused, his brow furrowing as he considered the question deeply. The silence stretched as memories of family stories and whispered legends flashed in his mind. Finally, he spoke, his voice steady and sure. "He would've done what he thought was right, no matter what," Jaune said, resolute. "Whatever that choice was, it would've been guided by his belief in doing the right thing, whether for his duty as a knight or for his family,"
Oobleck nodded slowly, his eyes narrowing in contemplation. "Then your great-great-grandfather was truly a rare man—a man out of a thousand," he said with a quiet admiration. "Most of us... are not so resolute, after all, what is honor compared to the love of a woman? What is duty when weighed against the warmth of cradling your newborn son in your arms?" His voice softened, yet carried a weight that hung in the air.
Jaune paused, placing the last book down and turning toward the professor with a raised brow, confusion etched on his face. "Doctor?" he asked cautiously.
Oobleck turned to face him fully, his expression contemplative yet piercing. "Tell me, Mr. Arc," he began, "If you were faced with such a choice—between the one you love and your duty as a Huntsman—what would you choose?"
Jaune's mouth opened as if to respond, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He hesitated before finally speaking, the uncertainty evident in his voice. "I... I don't know," he admitted, the truth of the statement heavier than he had expected.
Oobleck nodded thoughtfully, as though the answer did not surprise him. "It's a difficult question, Mr. Arc, one with no easy answer," Oobleck said, his voice grave. "But it's one you should reflect on sooner rather than later, because whether you're ready or not, there will come a day—perhaps sooner than you think—when a man must make that very choice, and on that day, the lines between duty and love are not always clear," His words were laced with both wisdom and warning.
Jaune frowned, his confusion deepening, yet there was something about the weight in Oobleck's words that stirred a gnawing sense of foreboding. "Sir," Jaune asked, his voice low and cautious, "What is this about? Why are you asking me this now?"
Oobleck glanced at the now empty blackboard as though considering his next words carefully. "History has a way of repeating itself, Mr. Arc," he said finally. "Sometimes in ways we least expect, your lineage... your heritage carries weight. You may not face the same battles your ancestor did, but in your own time, you may well find yourself standing on the same precipice—forced to make choices that will shape the man you become."
Oobleck strode over to Jaune, his expression softened, yet his eyes held a profound weight. Gently, he placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder, the gesture both reassuring and serious.
"Mr. Arc," he began, his voice steady but laced with conviction, "I cannot tell you how to walk the path that lies ahead, that is a journey you alone must navigate, but I will offer you this—if you truly desire to be a hero, understand that love, is the death of duty... Heroes often push away those they care for in the name of a greater cause, but take this advice from me... The world already has enough heroes, enough people sacrificing themselves for some abstract ideal of humanity,"
Jaune looked up, his mind racing, unsure how to respond.
Oobleck continued, his gaze firm but compassionate. "Don't let yourself be bound by the duty you've placed on your own shoulders, instead, be guided by what your heart tells you, by what you truly believe is right, sometimes, doing what's right means standing by those you love, even when it conflicts with the expectations of duty."
For a moment, Jaune was completely speechless, struggling to process the weight of Oobleck's words. It felt as though the very ground beneath him was shifting, his beliefs and understanding of what it meant to be a Huntsman suddenly called into question.
Oobleck gave him a small, encouraging smile before stepping back. "Now, be on your way, young man," he said, his voice kind but resolute. "Take time to think about this, because I believe soon... you will be tested on what truly matters most to you."
Jaune nodded, though his mind was still a whirl of conflicting thoughts. He carefully set the last remaining books on the desk, his movements slower now, weighed down by the conversation. "Thank you, Doctor. Have a good rest of your day," Jaune said quietly before leaving the classroom.
As he walked down the empty hallway, the young knight couldn't shake the words echoing in his mind. If he had to choose between his duty as a Huntsman and those he loved... what would he do? The question lingered, unsettling and heavy, leaving Jaune to wonder just how soon he would be forced to answer it.
Later and on the other side of the School, Winter sat comfortably in her quarters, nestled against the pillows on her bed, a book open in her hands. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the pages, casting gentle shadows across the room. It was a quiet moment, one she rarely allowed herself, but one she cherished nonetheless. Though it might seem cliché—curled up with a book like some noblewoman in a painting—this simple act had been a comfort to her since childhood.
While she had a few novels downloaded on her Scroll for convenience, there was something irreplaceable about the weight of a real book in her hands. The feel of the paper, the scent of aged pages—it all grounded her in a way that digital text never could.
Her current read was "The Frozen Heart," a tragic romance steeped in political intrigue. The story follows a cold and ruthless queen who ruled her kingdom with an iron grip, feared and hated by all. A foreign knight, tasked with assassinating her, infiltrated her court under the guise of loyalty, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Yet, as he spent more time by her side, learning the truth behind her hardened heart, his mission became conflicted. He had expected a monster, but instead, he found a woman burdened by loss, betrayal, and the weight of the crown.
Winter was nearing the climax of the story. The queen, once calculated and in control, was growing more paranoid, her trust in those around her rapidly unraveling. The knight, torn between duty and love, struggled with the decision that had once been so clear: could he truly go through with killing her, or was there still a way to save her? Was redemption even possible for someone so far gone?
Winter's lips pressed into a thin line as she read. The question gnawed at her, and despite herself, she wasn't sure what outcome she was hoping for.
Knock, knock.
The abrupt sound jolted her from the pages. Winter blinked, glancing toward the door.
Another knock followed.
"Coming," she called, closing the book with a careful hand.
She slipped the thin ribbon bookmark between the pages before pulling off the warm blanket draped over her lap. Rising from the bed, she smoothed down her blouse and made her way to the door. With a swift motion, she pulled it open—only to find none other than Jaune standing on the other side.
Dressed casually in a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers, he looked far more relaxed than usual, his armor nowhere in sight. It was likely stored in his locker, a rare moment where he, too, had opted for something more comfortable.
Winter arched a brow, crossing her arms. "Jaune?" she asked, her voice poised but curious. "What brings you here?"
Jaune opened his mouth to speak but hesitated, his gaze flickering downward before he quickly caught himself. It took him a moment to fully register Winter's appearance—far different from the composed, militaristic image she usually projected.
Instead of her crisp uniform or regal attire, she wore a pair of black, loose-fitting shorts that barely reached her mid-thigh and a simple white tank top, the kind typically worn beneath a shirt. It didn't take much for Jaune to realize that underneath the fabric, Winter wasn't wearing a bra.
He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling far more self-conscious than he had been moments ago.
"Jaune?"
Winter's voice, smooth yet edged with curiosity, snapped him out of his daze.
Jaune blinked, his cheeks warming as he forced himself to meet her gaze instead of lingering.'Damn it, focus!'He thought. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck in a poor attempt to play off his momentary distraction.
"Oh, uh... I was just wondering how you were doing today and, uh, if you wanted to hang out for a bit down in Vale," he said, shifting his weight slightly. His eyes flickered, briefly, unintentionally, back to her casual attire before quickly looking away again. "But, uh... I guess today's one of your days off?"
Winter followed his gaze downward and let out a soft chuckle, immediately understanding the source of his awkwardness. She supposed it was a stark contrast from what people expected of her. The world saw her as this perfectly poised, almost untouchable figure, dressed in sharp uniforms and exuding an air of unwavering control.
Yet, when she wasn't on duty, she saw no reason to be anything but comfortable, regardless of how unexpected it might be to others. She folded her arms, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Not what you were expecting me to wear, hm?" she teased.
Jaune exhaled a short laugh, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, pretty much. I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Weiss wear anything that wasn't perfectly put together, so seeing you like this is... different."
Winter arched a brow, her smirk widening. "Are you saying you expected me to be just as rigid as my sister?"
Jaune's eyes widened slightly. "N-No! I mean, well, kinda? Just—y'know, in the way that you always look so put together...?" He gestured vaguely, then sighed. "Okay, that sounded bad. What I meant was that it's just surprising, not in a bad way! Just... unexpected."
Winter chuckled, shaking her head. "Relax, Jaune, I know what you mean." She leaned casually against the doorframe. "I suppose it's refreshing to be reminded that even a Specialist has her moments of normalcy?"
Jaune smiled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Yeah, something like that." He gave her a hopeful look. "So... how about it? Feel like heading down to Vale for a bit? No uniforms, no missions, just a normal day out?"
Winter glanced back into her room, debating for a brief moment before nodding. "Alright," she said, pushing off the doorframe. "Give me a few minutes to change, and then we'll go,"
Jaune grinned. "Take your time," he said. Winter closed the door behind her to get dressed, Jaune let out a quiet breath and muttered to himself. "Okay, yeah... definitely wasn't expecting that."
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Winter sat across from Jaune at a small café, her posture poised yet relaxed as she delicately unwrapped her sandwich. The two had decided to grab a meal before figuring out what to do in the city, and for once, they weren't pressed for time or weighed down by responsibilities. It was a simple moment—one that Jaune found himself appreciating more than he expected.
The food was surprisingly good, better than the standard cafeteria fare back at Beacon. Jaune had gone for a classic choice: a burger with a side of fries and chicken nuggets, accompanied by a medium soda. Winter, on the other hand, had opted for something a bit more refined, yet still practical—two BLT sandwiches and a large mango-pineapple smoothie.
What truly caught Jaune's attention, however, was how different Winter looked now compared to earlier. She had changed into an outfit that struck a perfect balance between formal and casual. A crisp, white high-neck blouse hugged her form, layered beneath a black underbust corset with subtle straps, giving her an air of sophistication. A pair of sleek, high-waisted black pants completed the look, neatly tucked into stylish black Chelsea boots. Her hair, which was usually tied back in a strict bun, now flowed freely over her shoulders, with her signature bang still framing the right side of her face.
Jaune had seen Winter in her usual military attire plenty of times, and she had always looked elegant in her own way. But this? This was something else. She looked... stunning. So much so that Jaune found it incredibly difficult not to just stare.
He quickly took a sip of his drink, hoping the coolness would mask the warmth creeping up his neck.
"So, I hear you're going on missions soon," Winter said, breaking the comfortable silence as she took a sip of her smoothie.
Jaune blinked, snapping himself back into the conversation just in time to register her words. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "Y-Yeah," he replied, the faintest blush still lingering on his cheeks. "After the dance, every team is taking up a mission. Everyone's pretty excited about it—Nora especially, she's been bouncing off the walls ever since they told us," He chuckled, shaking his head.
Winter smirked, stirring her smoothie absentmindedly. "Yes, I've heard from Weiss about Nora's boundless energy. It's remarkable how much she has."
Jaune nodded in agreement. "She's like a walking explosion of enthusiasm. Pretty sure she'd take every mission if they let her."
Winter let out a soft chuckle before tilting her head slightly. "Have you decided on which mission your team will be taking?" she asked, her tone shifting slightly to something more serious. "I assume they've informed you about the kinds of missions first-years are allowed to take?"
Jaune nodded, setting his burger down. "Yeah, we got the list of available missions a while ago. They're mostly lower-risk assignments—escort missions, Grimm extermination in less populated areas, things like that. We're still deciding as a team, but I think we're leaning toward a scouting mission in a forest outside Vale. Simple patrol duty, check for Grimm presence, and report back."
Winter hummed thoughtfully, taking another bite of her sandwich before speaking. "A scouting mission is a good choice—low risk but still enough to test your teamwork and coordination in the field. Though, I imagine you'll need to keep a close eye on your team's... more energetic members."
Jaune laughed. "Yeah, no kidding. Ren's already making plans to keep Nora from running off ahead, and Pyrrha's making sure we stick to our formation." He told her. "I just have to, y'know... not mess up."
Winter gave him a knowing look. "You won't. Missions aren't about perfection, Jaune. They're about preparation, adaptability, and trust in your team. You have those things. You'll be fine."
Jaune met her gaze, and he smiled, some of the tension he hadn't realized he was carrying easing from his shoulders. "Thanks, Winter," he said.
Winter offered a small, reassuring smile. "Don't mention it," she said simply, taking another sip of her smoothie.
Jaune leaned back slightly in his chair, tapping his fingers against his cup."What about you?" he asked. "Anything exciting going on with you? New missions or anything?"
Winter let out a quiet sigh, shaking her head. "Unfortunately not," she admitted. "Everything's been quiet as of late."
Jaune raised an eyebrow. "Unfortunately? Wouldn't some quiet be a good thing?"
Winter nodded but gave him a thoughtful look. "Yes and no," she said, setting her sandwich down. "While Roman Torchwick is still pulling off minor thefts here and there, he and the White Fang have been unusually quiet. It's… worrisome. Just weeks ago, they were far more active, and now? Nothing."
Jaune frowned slightly, his interest piqued. He leaned forward as he grabbed another fry. "You think they might be planning something?"
Winter's expression hardened as she gave a small nod. "I do. But we have no idea what. Every White Fang member we've captured refuses to talk. Not a single one has given us any information about their next move, and that kind of silence usually means something big is coming."
Jaune chewed thoughtfully, mulling over her words. That was strange. Torchwick wasn't exactly the type to lie low unless he had a reason. It made him think back to his friends' recent encounter with the infamous criminal—the highway chase, the train incident. Team RWBY had basically gone vigilante trying to stop him, and that brought up another thought.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "So… what do you think about Weiss and her team getting involved with Torchwick?"
Winter blinked, tilting her head slightly at the question. "What do you mean?"
Jaune leaned forward, lowering his voice slightly. "I mean, they kinda… went rogue. They didn't exactly have permission to go after him, right? But they still did. Even if it meant breaking some rules."
Winter was silent for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup as she considered his words. Then, with a small sigh, she spoke. "I won't pretend that I approve of Weiss disregarding proper procedure. I was trained under strict discipline, and I know the consequences of reckless actions. However…" She paused, her gaze distant. "I also know that the law doesn't always move fast enough. If Weiss and her team hadn't interfered, Torchwick would still be freely carrying out his plans, unchallenged. I don't condone it… but I understand why they did it."
Jaune watched her carefully, surprised by the honesty in her tone."So, you're not mad at her?"
Winter chuckled softly. "I wouldn't say that. But I am proud of her, in my own way. She's headstrong, stubborn… but she has a good heart. She wants to make a difference."She met Jaune's eyes, a small smirk playing on her lips. "Reminds me of someone else I know."
Jaune felt his face heat up at the implication. "Hey, I don't go around chasing criminals off the books," he said, trying to sound indignant.
Winter raised an amused eyebrow. "Not yet."
Jaune groaned, taking a sip of his soda, while Winter simply chuckled. "Alright, fine. I might have a habit of jumping into things… but I like to think I'm getting better at thinking first."
Winter gave him a small nod of approval. "Good. Because if Torchwick is planning something, you and your friends will need to be ready. Whether you're involved officially or not."
Jaune sat back in his chair, her words weighing on him. He had a feeling she was right.
Jaune's thoughts drifted back to Oobleck's question, the weight of it settling heavily in his mind. It wasn't an easy one to answer—not for him, and certainly not for anyone who had ever been caught between duty and family.
He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Can I ask you something a little weird?"
Winter looked up from her drink, her brow arching slightly in curiosity. "What is it?"
Jaune exhaled, choosing his words carefully. "If you had to choose between your duty as a Specialist in the military or your duty as a sister… which would you choose?" He paused, watching her expression carefully. "Say Weiss was in danger, but you were ordered not to leave Atlas, not to get involved at all. Would you disobey those orders, or would you stay in Atlas?"
Winter's posture stiffened ever so slightly, and for a brief moment, she said nothing, merely studying him as if weighing the depth of his question. Then, with a quiet hum, she leaned back slightly in her seat. "That is… a difficult one, honestly," she admitted, crossing one leg over the other. "Why do you ask?"
Jaune sighed, rolling his cup between his palms. "That statue in the courtyard at Beacon—it's of my great-great-grandfather, Alexander Arc. He fought in the Great War, took the land that Beacon now sits on away from Mantle control, and was ordered to hold it." His voice grew quieter, more contemplative. "But then he got word that his village was under attack by Grimm."
Winter remained silent, listening intently.
Jaune continued, his gaze lowering slightly. "He had a choice—uphold his duty as a knight to the Warrior King and keep control of that land, or abandon his post and rush back home to save his village and his family, but to this day, no one—not even my family—knows what he chose." He swallowed, the weight of the unknown pressing on him. "Dr. Oobleck asked me what I think he did. And I told him… I think he did what he thought was right. But the more I think about it, the more I wonder—what was right?"
Winter's expression softened as Jaune leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. The young blonde shook his head slightly as he continued to speak.
"He had a duty to his king and his men, to hold that land and follow his orders. But as a father, he had a duty to protect his family, no matter what. And I just keep wondering… if it were me, what would I have done?"
Winter took a slow sip of her smoothie before setting it down, her fingers lightly tapping against the cup. "That is the burden of duty, Jaune," she said at last. "It is rarely a matter of simple right or wrong. It is a matter of consequence."
Jaune looked up at her, intrigued by her response.
Winter met his gaze with a steady look. "If your ancestor stayed, he would have fulfilled his duty as a knight, but his family may have been lost. If he left, he would have abandoned his post, perhaps costing lives on the battlefield—but maybe he could have saved his family. Either way, he would have to live with the outcome."
Jaune frowned. "So you're saying there was no right answer?"
Winter shook her head. "There was only his answer. The one he could live with." She glanced out the window for a moment before continuing. "As for me… I won't lie, Jaune. If I were ever put in that position, I would hesitate. The military is my life—it is the foundation of who I am. But Weiss is my sister. And if I ever received word that she was in danger, and I knew she needed me…"
Winter took a deep breath.
"I would go to her,"
Jaune's eyes widened slightly. "Even if it meant disobeying orders?"
Winter smirked faintly. "I'd like to believe I'd find a way to make both work, but if it truly came down to it?" She held his gaze. "Weiss is my family, and while I believe in duty, I also know that some things… some people are worth defying orders for,"
Jaune sat back in his chair, absorbing her words. He hadn't expected her to be so honest about it. But hearing it from her, someone who lived by duty, made him wonder even more about what he would do in that same position.
Winter picked up her sandwich again, taking a measured bite before speaking. "Does that help answer your question?"
Jaune let out a slow breath before nodding. "Yeah, I think it does."
Winter gave Jaune a small nod of approval. "Good," she said simply before returning to her meal.
Jaune smiled slightly and picked up another fry. "Thanks," he said, his voice sincere as he continued eating.
Winter, still chewing, gave him another nod in reply, unable to respond with words. The two fell into a comfortable silence, the quiet hum of the café around them filling the space between bites. It was a rare moment—peaceful, almost normal.
Neither of them noticed the pair of sharp, calculating gray eyes watching them from afar.
Ilia Amitola sat at a small corner table, half-hidden by the café's dim lighting and the natural flow of people moving about. She kept her gaze locked on them, carefully observing every interaction, every word exchanged. Seeing Winter Schnee—an elite of the Atlas military—so casually engaged in conversation with some random Beacon student piqued her curiosity. The boy, Jaune Arc, was nothing special on the surface, but his connection to the eldest Schnee made him a potential variable in their plans. And variables needed to be accounted for.
She tapped her fingers against her cup absentmindedly, taking mental notes. If Winter Schnee became too involved, if she started digging where she shouldn't, it could pose a problem. And problems needed to be dealt with.
A sudden vibration against her palm broke her focus.
Ilia quickly pulled out her scroll, her eyes narrowing as she read the incoming message. It was from Adam.
[Continue to watch Target. Moving to phase two. Report back to Mt. Glenn tonight.]
She exhaled slowly, the weight of the words settling in her chest. Things were escalating faster than expected. Adam had always been relentless, but if they were already shifting into the next phase of the plan, then that meant action was coming soon.
Her fingers hovered over the screen for a second before she typed out a simple response.
[Understood. Will report in tonight.]
Slipping the scroll back into her pocket, Ilia turned her attention back to Jaune and Winter, her expression darkening slightly. She had her orders, but that didn't change her personal feelings on the matter. The Schnee family had caused too much suffering for the Faunus. Too much pain. And while Winter might have distanced herself from her father's empire, she was still a Schnee. Still a symbol of everything that had oppressed her people for generations.
One way or another, Ilia would make her pay for that.
And if that boy—Jaune Arc—became a problem, then she'd handle him too.
By any means necessary.
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Hey! So, what did you think of this chapter? I really hope it was worth the wait because, for some reason, it took me forever to actually finish it. Seriously, I don't even know why, it just did.
That said, I hope you're excited for the next chapter because things are about to get really good. I've made some slight changes to the overall plan for the story, but trust me, these changes are for the better. The next chapter will also give you a glimpse into the future arcs and what you can expect moving forward.
Once again, I'm sorry for how long this chapter took to get out, but I hope you enjoyed it! You all deserve a great chapter after such a long wait. Thanks for sticking with the story, and I'll see you in the next one!