[RWBY] The Great Temporal Step-Sibling War!

[AndrewJTalon]

They were all more spread out for breakfast this morning than they had been the last few days at Glynda's insistence, the deputy headmistress claiming they couldn't be all together all the time. The eldest of the future brides had received a number of skeptical looks when she had said that but the others ultimately let it slide and went along with it because the last couple breakfasts had been far tenser than the morning meal was supposed to be.

It also spread their future kids out a bit, hypothetically making it easier for their respective mothers to keep an eye on them therefor making it harder for them to concoct another major scheme.

Winter and Theodore were at the teacher's table with Glynda and Dorothy, though conversation between the four of them was more sporadic than constant. Winter was spending most of her time glancing towards JNPR's table and blushing at the back of Jaune's head, only interrupting that activity to glower disappointedly at her son when she notice him looking a bit smug out of the corner of her eye.

In another part of the room May sat with her team and family. Her food was barely touched as she was gazing longingly in Jaune's direction instead of paying any attention to her plate. August looked from his mother, to his father, and to his mother's plate and sighed in exasperation.

May's own mother reached over and shook her daughter's shoulder.

"May dear, you need to eat if you're going to maintain the figure that caught his attention so effortlessly yesterday," Saia admonished.

May squeaked and blushed in embarrassment, but dutifully picked up her fork and got started on her eggs.

The girls of Team RWBY were all together with their children, the conversation flowing far more freely here although most of it was flowing in a particular direction.

"Toast?" Yang snickered.

"The crash-into-hello is a pivotal moment in seventy precent of the school love stories that have a happy ending!" Blake grumbled as she flipped through a notebook.

"Yeah, but you don't need toast for that, just timing," Yang's grin was the most infuriating thing Blake had ever seen on the blonde brawler's face. "Adding twice baked bread sounds like it'd result in more crumbling than bonding."

Blake physically stopped her hands from clenching so she wouldn't damage her notebook. She took a calming breath and pressed on with the next part of her master plan.

They were on a boat shaped like a swan, moving along the tracks hidden by the water people expected on a ride like this. The boat entered the tunnel with the speakers playing smooth music while the low lighting was just bright enough to set a mood while also making it dark enough that they could be doing anything on the boat without anyone else being privy to it...

"Um, Blake, Carnaval Park hasn't had a Tunnel of Love for at least thirty years," Ruby hesitantly burst her teammate's bubble.

"What!?" Blake's head whipped around to look at her team leader.

"Yeah, they had a problem with drunk people getting out of the boats mid-ride or doing other stuff that messed up the tracks. Then you have the people that would throw up or get other bodily fluids in the water, and that's a biohazard that requires all of the water in the ride to be drained and replaced. It just became too expensive to keep fixing so they shut it down," Ruby explained.

"How do you know that?" Weiss sounded quite surprised.

"Amusement ride engineer was one of my backup plans in case the huntress thing didn't work out for me," Ruby shrugged.

"Oh, that makes sense," Weiss allowed.

"Okay, if the tunnel of love is out..." Blake pressed onwards

"Wanna listen to my mixtape?" Blake offered as she held up an old cassette player.

"Only if you listen to mine," Jaune smoothly replied as he pulled a cassette tape from his letterman jacket's inner pocket...

"Do you even have a mixtape?" Ruby wondered aloud.

Blake froze as she realized the wrinkle in the plan.

"Okay, so I don't have time to throw together a good mixtape today, but we could still do something with music..."

Rocks gently pelt Jaune's window, which he opened to see what was going on.

The band started playing once he leaned out, and Blake started to sing:

"You could have a steam train, if you'd just lay down your tracks..."

"Where are you getting a band?" Weiss interrupted Blake's musings.

Blake groaned in frustration.

RWBY's children were doing their best to not comment on Blake's struggles. Nicholas was ignoring the going ons of the table entirely, looking to the guest table where his namesake grandfather was laughing at some joke the stuntman Logos had just shared. Julian in turn wished he had something that could grab his attention from Blake's floundering. Xia looked like she wanted to say something but kept thinking better of it before it could leave her mouth.

Leander and Leandra were perfect pictures of exasperation, and they couldn't hold their peace much longer.

"Mom, why are all your ideas so old and cliche?" Leandra whined.

"Old? Cliche?" Blake turned towards her daughter with confused indignation.

"It's all stuff that's been played out for decades," Leander backed his sister up.

"Played out! This is timeless stuff! Cornerstones of romance!" Blake spun her notebook around to show them the pages, wildly pointing at different entries as she started to rant. "Each of these ideas are an evolution of some time honored method of people expressing romantic interest in one another. You have to pay respect to the classics if you want to do things right!"

"You're such a big romance genre nerd Blake," Yang chuckled at her partner's impassioned raving. "You can't script these things out, you just got to go with the flow."

"From what Aunt Ruby told me," Xia finally piped in, "You weren't much better when you were dating dad."

Yang spun to face her daughter, "What do you mean by that?"

Xia only responded with a coy smirk.

"What do you mean Xia!?"

Across the room, at JNPR's table, Pyrrha Nikos sat beside Jaune, face still tomato-red from her "flirting" attempt from earlier. She poked at her oatmeal like it was to blame.

Jaune nudged her gently. "Hey… it's okay. Your mom means well. Dramatic, but well."

Pyrrha groaned. "I just... Made a fool out of myself! With Blake!"

Xander sipped his juice innocently. "It's about what I expected, honestly."

Pyrrha shot him a look. "Xander!"

Jaune chuckled. "Hey, no teasing your mom."

Nora leaned across the table, eyes sparkling. "Tease her more! It's fun! Speaking of—Xander, what about Lian? Spill the beans, kiddo! Tell Auntie Nora everything!"

Xander flushed beet-red, ears turning pink. "She's… she's my best friend! I really care about her. But she's still super clingy, and we… uh… still sleep together in the bed at Beacon sometimes."

He beamed and waved his hand.

"You know, best friends stuff!"

Ren blinked slowly. Nora followed, looking very calm. Which was terrifying.

"And does she wear unique lingerie for you?" Ren asked carefully. Pyrrha flushed deeply, knowing exactly what he was referencing.

"Yeah," Xander confirmed, "She always asks me my opinion on her underwear! I don't really get it, honestly. Who's she trying to impress?"

Nora's eyes went wide, then misty.

"Ohhhh… I get it now. The desire for grandbabies. It's real."

Ren sighed deeply, pinching his nose. Again he hid a smile. Who he was more exasperated with was a matter for philosophers and saints.

Jaune blinked slowly. "Wait… if I was that oblivious to all this flirting stuff back then..."

He looked over at Pyrrha.

"Am... Am I really that dense?"

Pyrrha patted his hand, cheeks still pink. "You weren't that bad… mostly."

"He was worse!" Nora cried. She sighed. "Oh future daughter... Why did you fall in love with an idiot?!"

"Hey!" Xander said defensively.

--------------

Miles away sat Vale's international airport, where airships from all over the world would dock and unload passengers from all walks of life. These passengers would then have to make their way through customs to ensure contraband and other problematic things didn't enter the city proper. Unfortunately no customs official could stop the vile things that slinked their way through the system this day.

A young fresh faced customs worker whose name tag said 'Jim' put on his best smile as a brunette woman with an expensive camera hanging from her neck approached. Her face was framed with a pair of gem studded glasses while her outfit was expensive looking yet semi-athletic, with holes cut in the back to accommodate a single pair of insectoid wings. It was like she wanted to look presentable in a professional setting while also being ready to run a marathon at the same time.

"Hello, and welcome to the City of Vale," Jim greeted the faunus woman as he squared away the last bit of paperwork the previous arrival had saddled him with. "What's the reason for your visit Miss...?"

"Skeeter, Bridget Skeeter," She introduced herself as she handed him her passport and a press badge that some of the larger news outlets liked to give out to people who worked for them. "I'm a photojournalist for The Weekly Oracle and I'm here to crack a story. The Invincible Girl somehow has a fiancé. A fiancé that nobody has heard about before a couple days ago, who's also engaged to several other young women of note. There are a lot of unanswered questions here, and those questions mean dirty laundry. It's my civic duty to air out that laundry."

"Well, Miss Skeeter, I guess you'll have company during your stay," Jim warily told her as he stamped her passport and cleared the rest of her paperwork. "You're the second reporter from Argus who's come through my station so far."

"I am? Who was here first?"

"An Ivan Peek for the Argus Insider," Jim relayed as he handed Skeeter her paperwork back.

"Is that so?" Skeeter frowned as she slid her passport back into her pockets. "Well I better hop to it if I'm going to beat him to the juicer details."

With that the faunus reporter scurried off.

"Hi, and welcome to Vale!" The next arrival approached Jim's workstation. "What's the reason for your visit Mister...?"

"You can call me Scoop, I'm a photojournalist for the Mistral Messenger."

"Oh man," Jim muttered as he could suddenly tell what the rest of his morning was going to be like. And he was right.

For the rest of the morning he'd be dealing with the most haded enemy of the Nikos family, the one foe Pyrrha wasn't allowed to fight.

The paparazzi were here, and they were here in force.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Professor Harold Mulberry, head of Beacon's Weapons Maintenance class, was a burly, brown haired man with a neatly trimmed mustache-dense, perfectly groomed, and walrus-like in style that only enhanced the sternness of his face. He wore a simple button up shirt with his sleeves up under a different colored vest every day, over dark trousers and simple but sturdy boots. His eyes were a dark green, usually cold and pitiless. He looked around his morning classroom, every student at a work bench on a concrete floor.

The future kids were present along with their parents, save for Winter who stood at the door as an observer, and Glynda, who had her class to attend to. Jaune and Pyrrha stood together at their usual bench, Jaune nervous while Pyrrha was smiling almost placidly as Harold's icy gaze swept over the classroom like a king surveying his court.

"Good morning. Once again, I will be examining your weapons to see if you've been taking proper care of them. I will not be available to do this for you in the field, so you will have to do it yourself unless you want to end up dead. That is an option, but only some nihilistic lily livered loser whose life was written by a couple of Utopian brained communists would take that option. As always, to become a Hunter or Huntress is to be an independent contractor who brings peace and security to the world. You are paid to be heroes, so act like it. Nobody wrote any heroic tales about the jackass whose mechashift gun jammed in the middle of a fight and got eaten. Just shitty jokes."

The professor went from table to table, examining each weapon in turn. He took hold of Myrtenaster first, examining it carefully as Weiss held her breath next to Ruby.

"Decent work as usual, Schnee," Mulberry stated, "Little too obsessive with the polishing but I'm sure that will impress someone."

"Thank you, sir," Weiss managed. Mulberry turned to Ruby, who beamed at him. Mulberry took hold of Crescent Rose, turning it over in his hands.

"Hmm… Well, you made things hard for yourself out of love. But that is why love is worth it," Ron said, "Only pussies reject the challenge brought forth by living true to themselves. Good work as usual, Rose. Your son's doing well."

Julian frowned. Ruby flushed and shook her head.

"He's not my-I mean, um, thank you!"

"This anti-polarity device is gonna throw off your balance a bit though," Mulberry pointed to the new addition on the side of Crescent Rose, "As long as you compensate it should be fine."

"I will, sir," Ruby said.

Mulberry raised an eyebrow and shook his head as he returned the weapon.

"Don't let it go to your head."

"Oh, never sir!" Ruby chirped. Weiss gave her a little glare from the side. Ruby preened just a bit, when she was sure Mulberry wasn't looking. She was sure she was one of Mulberry's favorites-The man seemed just a little less stoic around her. And had even let her use the REALLY dangerous Dust mixtures!

Well, he let Nora use them too. But being co-favorites with Nora was still an honor!

Mulberry came to Jaune and Pyrrha's table next. Jaune set Crocea Mors before him. Mulberry sniffed, and picked it up. He unsheathed it, and opened up the shield. He looked the sword all over, and sniffed.

"Well, this antique is still working just fine, Arc," Mulberry stated. "You're definitely taking my advice." He hummed, looking down the edge, "Learned Aura slashes finally?"

"Oh, uh, yes sir," Jaune nodded. Mulberry hummed.

"The spirit is strong, but the steel is being ground down," he stated, "You'll want to reforge this soon. Upgrade the mechanics. Rose! You'll help him do it."

"Yes sir!" Ruby beamed, even through the glares she got from her fellow future brides. What? She was best suited to this!

"I will help too, Jaune," Pyrrha added. Mulberry sniffed as he examined Milo and Akuo.

"You're nearly perfect with your maintenance, Nikos. He doesn't need another mommy. Unless that's in the bedroom, in which case keep it to yourselves," he stated bluntly, making Pyrrha and Jaune both turn bright red. Neptune growled, eyebrows twitching, from his own table with Sage. Sage for his part sighed quietly.

"He's got no shortage of that," Neptune grumbled. Jaune shot him a glare out of reflex, the rest of the brides and future kids doing the same. Neptune coughed and held up a hand.

"Ah, I just meant-"

"Vasilias, that's very unprofessional and not classroom appropriate," Mulberry said sharply. Neptune winced and nodded.

"Yessir."

Mulberry hummed.

"On the other hand, it is impossible to ignore the fact that Arc's idiot father did get him engaged to eleven women and apparently, none of them have called it off. So congratulations, Arc."

"Uh, thank you sir," Jaune managed.

"I'd make up a will if I were you," Mulberry added. Jaune gulped.

"I'll… Think it over?"

Mulberry was already walking over to Julian and Nicholas' table. He held up Crescent Rose Part II and raised an eyebrow.

"Rose help you with this, kid?"

"She sure did!" Julian said proudly. He shook his head.

"Can I hire her? She's a freaking witch with this… What even is this stuff?"

"That's… Uh… A long story," Julian admitted, as some of the future kids snickered-Theodore among them. Winter glared, and he grinned with a shrug back. Julian turned back to Mulberry.

"As for hiring her, you can, but you might have to wait a while," Julian said, glancing over at Ruby. She flushed, pleased, and clearly eager to learn. But she kept herself restrained, for now.

Mulberry sighed.

"Right. One of those things Oobleck told me and I drank to forget about. Gotcha. Moving on."

He examined Nicholas' Ascalon carefully. He traced the lines of the weapon. He looked over at Crocea Mors, then over at Weiss' Myrtenaster. His eyes widened slightly.

"... Definitely going to drink a lot more after this," the professor muttered to himself.

- - -

The safehouse in Vale's industrial district was a relic of better days—an old warehouse converted into an underground nightclub, now shuttered and silent under the midday sun. Roman's lien had ensured it stayed that way: doors locked, blinds drawn, no curious eyes prying.

Cinder Fall emerged from her private room at the back, still smoothing the last wrinkles from her black-and-red ensemble. Sleep had been fitful—dreams of fire and failure, of the twins and a certain blond knight's face that refused to fade even after everything. She pushed it down, deep, where it belonged. Just like the texts she'd exchanged with her… With the twins last night.

She kept it in a tight little box, along with all her other doubts. Locked away and hidden.

The main lounge smelled of sizzling meat and pipe smoke. Sebastian Zaroff stood at the makeshift kitchenette, apron over his safari jacket, flipping rashers of bacon with the same precision he'd once used to hunt men. His pipe—carved from some exotic Vacuan wood—sent lazy curls of aromatic smoke toward the ceiling.

He glanced up as she entered, offering a courteous nod. "Good morning, Miss Fall. Or afternoon, rather. Breakfast is nearly ready—traditional Albionese. Eggs, bacon, black pudding, beans, grilled tomatoes. Fortifies the soul for a day of villainy."

Cinder's eyes narrowed. "You're cooking."

Zaroff chuckled, sliding a perfectly fried egg onto a plate. "A man must eat. And I find a good meal steadies the nerves before unpleasant business." He set the plate at the head of the long table, then poured tea—strong, black, with a slice of lemon. "How did you sleep?"

She took the seat—throne-like by design, though less dramatic than her usual—and regarded him with cool suspicion. "Well enough. Your… domesticity is unexpected."

Zaroff removed the apron, folding it neatly before taking his own seat. He puffed his pipe, amber eyes twinkling. "I recognize the paranoia in your gaze, Miss Fall. But I am no threat. A good leader recognizes when ambitions align rather than clash."

Cinder sipped the tea—excellent, damn him. "My ambitions clash with everyone's."

Zaroff smiled faintly. "That leads to a lonely life. I quite understand—I've lived one myself. But conflict between us would only complicate matters, especially with our… unique teammates."

The doors burst open before Cinder could respond.

Roman Torchwick stormed in, dragging a snarling, thrashing Thanh Qinglong by the collar like a misbehaving dog. Asok—Sebastian's quiet Panduvian retainer—followed with a long-suffering sigh, carrying a tray of extra plates.

Thanh's green scales gleamed with sweat, red eyes wild. He lunged at Roman, claws slashing—only for Roman to sidestep with practiced ease, letting the lizard Faunus stumble.

Sebastian didn't even look up from his tea. "Problem?"

Roman dusted off his hands. "This creep tried sneaking into Neo's room. Again."

Thanh straightened, baring venomous fangs in a grin. "The little lady would welcome my attentions."

Neo materialized from nowhere—pink-and-brown eyes deadly, parasol spinning. In a blur, she slashed an X across Thanh's chest—shallow, precise, enough to bleed.

Thanh laughed, wounds already knitting. "See? She likes it rough."

Sebastian set his cup down with deliberate calm. "Behave, Thanh. Or I'll cut your head off and mount it myself."

Roman's hand twitched toward Melodic Cudgel. "Let me do it. Save us all the headache."

Sebastian raised a hand. "I'll handle discipline. For now."

Roman grumbled but stepped back. "For now."

Thanh smirked, licking blood from his lips as the cuts sealed.

The doors opened again—this time with Zhu bounding in, practically vibrating, Mercury slouching behind her.

"—and his eyes bulged out like this!" Zhu mimed with exaggerated glee, hands popping from her face. "And his tongue swelled up huge—funny, right? He was a politician! Great public speaker!"

Mercury snorted, actually laughing. "That's… kinda hilarious."

They claimed seats—Zhu perching on the table itself, Mercury slumping next to Neo and Roman.

Thanh growled low. "I'll hunt my own meat."

Sebastian nodded to Asok. "Assist, please."

Asok bowed and retrieved a massive side of beef from a cold chest—fresh, dripping. Thanh seized it with a snarl and dragged it off toward his room, tail lashing.

Sebastian sighed. "Caliban?"

"Charging, sir," Asok replied.

Iridescent flounced in next—cheerful as a sunrise, white hair bouncing. "Good morning, everyone! Or afternoon! Who cares!"

She greeted with exuberant waves: a polite nod to Sebastian, an excited bounce for Zhu, cautious smiles for Mercury and Cinder.

Roman muttered into his coffee. Neo ate her pancakes silently, smirking.

Iridescent plopped down. "So! What's the plan today?"

Cinder set her cup down. "Surveillance. Jaune Arc has been… courting the other future wives. We keep eyes on him. Learn weaknesses."

Zhu pouted, whipping cream onto her pancakes into a smiley face. "Can we kill anyone today?"

Sebastian shook his head. "Not yet. We aren't ready."

Zhu's whipped-cream face drooped. She made it talk in a high voice: "Can Zhu murder Thanh if she's good?"

Iridescent giggled. "That's up to Cinder!"

Cinder's voice was steel. "Only if necessary. We're outnumbered."

Sebastian nodded. "Rotate oversight of our more… colorful members. Keeps things manageable."

Cinder agreed. "Neo, Sebastian, and I will observe Jaune. Iridescent—"

"I'll help!" Iridescent beamed.

Cinder's eyes narrowed at the gleam in hers. "Fine. Get everything ready when you're done. After that? Stay close."

"Yes ma'am!" Iridescent said cheerfully.

Cinder finished last, rising as the others filed out.

Only Sebastian remained.

He puffed his pipe. "Wise to keep Iridescent close. Friends close, enemies closer."

Cinder snorted. "I have no friends."

Sebastian smiled faintly. "I suppose that's a luxury in our business. Though… It pays to invest in such things."

She huffed, heading for the door. "Keep your old man wisdom to yourself."

But as she left, his words lingered.

The closed off box stirred… And still, she ignored it.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Beacon, Vale

- - -

The weekend party in the unused Beacon dorm was a riot of light and sound—string lights twinkling like captured stars, bass thumping through the walls, bodies moving in a chaotic swirl of laughter and spilled drinks. Upperclassmen had turned the place into a den of rebellion: hard cider flowing, beer bottles clinking, and that glowing punch bowl drawing brave (or foolish) souls.

Pyrrha Nikos—usually the epitome of grace and restraint—had come with a mission.

Liquid courage.

She'd watched Jaune from across the room all night—laughing with his team, awkward but endearing—and her heart had done that familiar flip. Months of pining, of "just friends," of wondering if he'd ever see her as more than his partner.

Tonight, she'd decided, was the night. The night to confess her feelings.

One cup of punch to steady her nerves. Two because the first didn't quite do it. Three because… well, the room was spinning pleasantly, and courage felt close. Fourth and fifth followed because... Because she wasn't brave enough, damnit!

Now she leaned against a wall, cheeks flushed, green eyes a little glassy, red hair loose and wild. The world tilted nicely.

Perfect time to find Jaune.

Except three upperclassmen—fourth-years with too much beer and too little sense—found her first.

"Hey, champion," one slurred, leaning in too close. "You look like you could use company."

Another grinned, hand brushing her arm. "Yeah, let's dance. Or… something better."

Pyrrha blinked slowly, smile polite but wobbly. "I'm… waiting for someone."

They didn't listen. One reached out to caress her cheek.

"Looks like you found them, huh babe?"

Jaune Arc—hiding near the punch bowl with a single beer he'd been nursing for an hour—spotted the cluster. His stomach dropped.

Pyrrha. Cornered. She was drunk. She was helpless.

He moved—fast. He stepped in front of the fourth years, resting a hand on Pyrrha's shoulder.

"She's with me."

"Maybe she should make that decision, Deadlast," sneered one of the fourth years. Jaune glared back, standing his ground. They advanced... And a medium tall, dark skinned girl with blonde hair stepped in front of him and Pyrrha like a lioness guarding her pride.

"Back. Off," the young woman growled.

Her voice was low, calm—but carried the weight of someone who'd broken bigger men than these.

The fourth-years laughed—until the woman's hand gripped the leader's wrist, twisting just enough to make him yelp.

"I said," she repeated, "back off."

The creeps sized them up—Jaune's determined glare, the woman's unyielding stance—and decided discretion was the better part of not getting hospitalized.

They muttered excuses and vanished into the crowd.

Pyrrha swayed, smiling blearily. "Jaune… Arslan… hi."

Jaune caught her as she listed sideways. "Hey, hey—easy. You okay?"

It took him a second to parse Pyrrha's slurred words-Arslan Atlan?!

That was Pyrrha's Sanctum rival, taking Pyrrha's other arm with a concerned look on her face.

"She's had too much. Let's get her out of here," she said, and Jaune nodded in agreement.

Together, they guided Pyrrha through the crowd—Jaune murmuring apologies to bumped dancers, Arslan glaring anyone who looked too long—until they reached a quieter dorm room upstairs.

Pyrrha flopped onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, mumbling something about "courage" and "stupid punch."

Jaune pulled off her boots gently. Arslan fetched water from the hall fountain.

Pyrrha was out cold in minutes—snoring softly, face peaceful.

Jaune exhaled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Thanks for the assist back there."

Arslan leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Couldn't let those idiots take advantage. Not of her."

They shared a quiet nod. The silence stretched.

Arslan broke it. "You're Arc, right? Jaune Arc."

"Yeah. Arslan Atlan?"

"Yes," she said, "Pyrrha tell you?"

"That you were rivals at Sanctum," Jaune said, "You were the only one who came close to giving her a challenge. That-That's really impressive."

Arslan nodded, face like stone but... Warmer somehow.

"Thank you."

She studied him. "Are you by chance the son of Nicholas Arc? Paladin Knight of the Order of Saint Edmund?"

Jaune blinked. "Uh… yeah. How'd you—"

Arslan's serious expression cracked into a genuine smile-Something he had never seen on the stoic girl's face. He had to admit, he liked it..

"Your father's a legend in the Church. The stories—facing Grimm hordes with nothing but sword and faith. Fighting with his team in Pandu... They teach us about him in Stonebreaker training. I... I've read the children's books about him."

Jaune rubbed his neck, cheeks pink. "He's… yeah. He's something."

Arslan stepped closer. "I grew up in the Church too. Tablebreaker faith—Aslan's teachings. But your father... He is why I became a Stonebreaker, of the Order of Peter. He inspired me to join. To fight the Grimm."

Jaune nodded. "Me too. I mean my mom and dad both inspired me... There are times I struggle with it... Like I struggle with everything..." His shoulders drooped a bit. Arslan rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Aslan said, 'They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.' Our weaknesses and flaws are things faith heals. And while we can never be perfect, we will never stop improving and doing good. Is that not why you are here, Jaune Arc? To do good in the world?"

Jaune slowly nodded.

"It... It is."

They talked—quiet at first, then easier. About faith in a world of Grimm. About duty. About feeling like you had to prove yourself worthy of the stories.

Arslan's usual stoicism softened. "I always admired your father. And… you're a lot like him. The way you jumped in back there."

Jaune laughed softly. "Trying to be."

Pyrrha snored louder.

They both smiled.

Arslan hesitated, then: "I'd… like to be friends. Real friends. If you're open to it."

Jaune's smile was genuine.

"I'd like that."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Beacon, Vale

- - -

The party in the unused Beacon dorm was in full swing—string lights twinkling like mischievous stars, bass thumping hard enough to make your eardrums throb, and plenty of teenaged bodies packed tight in a chaotic swirl of laughter, spilled drinks, and dancing that skirted the edge of "indecent."

May Zedong—Vacuo orphan, quiet sniper, eternal wallflower—hadn't planned on drinking. Heck, she hadn't planned on attending at all.

She'd come because her team dragged her along. BRNZ—Brawnz, Roy, Nolan, and her—were supposed to "bond." Instead, they'd spent the night goofing off: Brawnz arm-wrestling upperclassmen, Roy and Nolan challenging people to drinking games, leaving May to hover awkwardly in the corner, Aura Sight picking up everyone's moods in glowing overlays she couldn't turn off.

Frustration had simmered all evening. She did the work—scouting, planning, covering their reckless asses in missions—while they played leader and clowns.

One cup of glowing punch to loosen up. Two because it tasted like candy. Three because the warmth felt nice. Four because she forgot how many she'd had.

Now the world tilted pleasantly, her usual shyness drowned in liquid courage.

Her team was mid-laugh-Brawnz flexing for a crowd, Roy and Nolan cheering-when they turned to May.

"Hey, May! You wanna go get me my Scroll?" Brawnz asked, "I wanna show off how awesome I was in that fight!"

May scowled. Truly scowled. It was surprising enough that Roy and Nolan were taken aback.

"Why? Can't you get it yourself?" She demanded, her words slurring slightly as she started on a slow burn.

Brawnz for his part was merely confused.

"Well, why can't you go get it for me? That fight was so cool and I totally dominated," Brawnz went on, oblivous to the anger about to be unleashed.

"I dominated! I shot the Grimm! You guys always leave me out!" she snapped, louder than she'd ever been. "I do all the work! Scouting, planning, watching your backs—and you just fight and goof off like idiots!"

The group froze. Nolan blinked, reaching out to her. "May? You okay?"

"No!" She swayed, pointing accusingly. "I'm tired of being invisible! You're the leader, Brawnz, but I'm the one keeping us alive!"

"I didn't mean that you-" Brawnz tried, but May's temper was well and truly lost.

"I didn't even want to be here! But you still made me come because I don't get to do anything!" May raged, "I'm just your-your PACK MULE! YOUR GUN! AND I'M SICK OF IT!"

Brawnz gaped. Roy tried to salvage things.

"We just wanted you to have a good time-!"

"WELL I'M NOT!" May yelled, throwing the cup down.

Her eyes stung. The buzz soured into embarrassment. She turned and staggered away—out a side door, into the cool night air of the balcony.

The breeze hit her like a truck. She gripped the railing, head spinning, regret crashing in.

Stupid. So stupid. Now they'll think I'm crazy.

Footsteps approached—soft, careful.

"You okay?"

May turned. Jaune Arc stood there, looking concerned—one hand in his pocket, a half-finished bottle of something mild in one hand.

She huffed, looking away. "Fine. Just… air."

Jaune joined her at the railing, leaving space. "Parties are intense. I get needing a break."

May glanced at him—tall, kind eyes, that awkward sincerity everyone teased but secretly liked. Her Aura Sight overlaid his glow: steady gold, warm, threaded with quiet determination and a flicker of loneliness.

They stood in silence a moment.

Then the words spilled out.

"My team… they're great fighters, but I do everything else. Planning. Watching. Shooting. Chores... And they just… don't see me."

Jaune nodded slowly. May kept going on, quiet and ashamed.

"They-They've saved me... But they're also jerks. They make me do the laundry, the paperwork, the cooking, the cleaning... I have to do everything... They even dragged me out here and-and I didn't want to. I didn't want to see everything! I didn't want to do all this... I just... I just wanted...!"

She sniffled, and began to cry. She felt a handkerchief touch her hand. She looked up, saw Jaune was offering her the cloth. She took it, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose. She flushed, and handed it back. Jaune awkwardly shook his head and smiled softly.

"Keep it," he said. May nodded, a bit unsteady. He got close to support her.

"I... I can see everyone's Souls," she mumbled, "I can see so much and it's... It's so much. It's overwhelming... I'm so tired... I'm so tired of being the strong one..."

"I'm sorry," Jaune whispered. "I... I get that. I mean... Being overwhelmed. Not the seeing Souls thing."

May looked at him—really looked. His Aura was bright, honest. No pretense.

"I... I have Aura Sight—they think it's cool, but it's… isolating. Always seeing more than people want. I can see so much... So much I don't want to."

"That... That still sounds amazing," Jaune said eagerly. "My godfather has a similar Semblance, and he's super cool. He's an incredible archer! There's nothing he can't hit." He grinned. "I bet you're just like him."

May blushed deeply.

"I... I am a pretty good shot," she whispered, "But when you can see so much... Y-You see so much of people and they don't understand..."

Jaune's eyes softened. "That sounds hard. Am... Are you seeing anything bad with me?"

May beamed into his chest.

"No," she whispered, "I... I like seeing you..."

They talked—really talked. About feeling on the outside. About hiding parts of themselves. About quiet places they escaped to, books they loved in secret.

The punch wore off slowly, leaving warmth that wasn't alcohol.

May's heart raced. She looked up at him, voice soft but steady.

"Jaune… would you go out with me? Like… a date?"

Jaune's eyes widened. "May, I—"

Panic hit. "Forget it! I'm buzzed, stupid—"

"No!" He caught her hand gently. "I'd love to. But… you've been drinking. How about you ask when you're sober?"

May stared, then nodded—shy, hopeful. "Okay."

He smiled. "Promise?"

"Promise. Also... Sorry."

"Sorry? For what-?"

May turned and threw up over the balcony railing. She then passed out. Jaune held her, bright red.

"Oh boy..."

The next morning, May woke with a pounding headache and crystal-clear memory.

She groaned into her pillow. She'd asked Jaune Arc out. While buzzed. Like a complete idiot.

She'd yelled at her teammates too. What was she thinking?!

"Uh..."

She looked up from her bunk. Brawnz, Roy and Nolan stood in front of her, looking contrite. She flushed and wrapped herself in her blankets.

"Um... G-Guys... I uh... Um..."

Brawnz sighed.

"Hey. We're... Sorry, okay?"

"He's the most sorry," Nolan muttered. Brawnz glared at him before he looked back at May. He reached out a hand and rested it on her shoulder.

"What I mean is... We did just want you to have some fun," Brawnz said, "Because you do work so hard."

"And we do appreciate you, May, even if we don't say it," Roy agreed. He handed her a glass of water and aspirin. She took them, wincing but grateful.

"Thank you," she murmured shyly. Brawnz grinned.

"We'll get you breakfast! You need protein after all that."

"Yeah," Nolan agreed. The three headed out, muttering quietly to eachother. They shut the door behind them. May sighed, burying herself in her blankets.

Her scroll buzzed. She read the caller ID: Jaune Arc?!

Hey May. Still on for that date? Festival tonight? Sober you this time.

May's face burned. But her heart soared.

She typed back, fingers trembling.

Yes. I'd love to.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian, Vale

Seven Years After Salem's Defeat

- - -

Cinder frowned at her newest baby, Ingis. The six month old whined, shook his high chair, and moved his head whenever her spoon full of baby food got close.

"Come on, Ignis," she murmured, "You've eaten this before. You like it!"

"Mmpah!" Ignis bleated. Cinder sighed in irritation.

"You know you like it," she insisted. Ignis burbled, and she stuck the spoon in like lightning when he opened his mouth. "See?"

The baby smacked his lips... And whined some more. Cinder sighed.

"So picky," she muttered. There was a knock at the door. She raised an eyebrow as she picked Ignis up and headed for the door, padding in her usual red housedress. Ignis babbled, and she stroked his back to sooth him.

"There there, we'll get through your mashed carrots soon enough," she soothed. Ash and Ashley were at the hospital today, and Jaune hadn't called that he was coming home early. So who was it?

Probably Rose or Nora here to drop in unannounced, as usual, she thought with a sniff, as she opened the door. She blinked-Nobody was on the porch...

"I-I will... Slay you!" Squeaked a voice. She looked down. A small boy with pale skin and wearing a pink and blue blanket as a cape stood there, holding up a toy sword. Cinder raised an eyebrow.

"Oh? And who are you?"

"I'm... Lord Baddest Dude!" He declared. "And I will defeat the heroes of the world and become the greatest villain Remnant has ever seen."

What, Cinder thought. Ignis babbled, unimpressed. Her baby's reaction made her snort in laughter.

The boy scowled.

"Hey! I really will! I-I'll be sooo powerful I'll stomp all the good guys and rule! And nobody will tell me to go to bed ever!"

Cinder shook her head.

Was I ever this bad? She wondered. Maybe, once, yes. But now...

Rather than anger, resentment, or guilt... She just saw an innocent child playing around. One who didn't know any better.

An innocence she felt very protective over.

Cinder knelt down, adjusting Ignis to keep him comfortable, and looked into Lord Baddest Dude's eyes, her own filled with amusement.

"Well, Lord Baddest Dude," she said with a grin, "It takes a lot of work to be an evil villain. Have you got it all planned out? Do you have an evil scheme?"

"Yeah huh!" Lord Baddest Dude said, "I'm gonna defeat you! Then lure in Ser Jaune and Lady Ruby, and beat them! And then you'll all have to work for me because I defeated you!"

Cinder snickered.

"Oh? Is that how it works, Lord Baddest Dude?"

"Yeah huh!" Lord Baddest Dude insisted, nodding his head very enthusiastically. "Then with your power I'll make my parents let me stay up as long as I like! So there! I mean, you already switched sides so I thought I'd start with you!"

"Ah, but there is the flaw in your plan, Lord Baddest Dude," Cinder pointed out, poking him in his belly and making him giggle, "I did turn from evil to good. Who's to say I wouldn't be pretending to go along with your plan, and then betray you at the last second? I did that to Salem, you know. Helped save Ruby and Jaune."

"You wouldn't!" Lord Baddest Dude declared... Then he winced. "Would you?"

Cinder laughed.

"Oh, I would. But you'd never know when it would come," she said, "So you couldn't trust me even if you defeated me."

"Bwawawa," Ignis added, before burping. Lord Baddest Dude frowned.

"But... Maybe I'd know you'd betray me so I'd betray you first!" He insisted.

"But I would know you would know I would betray you, so I'd know you would betray me," Cinder countered playfully. Lord Baddest Dude blinked a few times.

"Wha...?"

"Would you like to have some cookies and milk while you work that out?" Cinder asked with a little smile. Lord Baddest Dude looked suspicious.

"... Chocolate chip?"

"Only the best," she confirmed. Lord Baddest Dude nodded happily.

"Okay!"

- - -

It was a few hours later that Jaune returned from the hospital, Ash and Ashley in their buggy. The two year olds were tuckered out and sleeping, and Jaune was glad of it. He pushed the cart up the path to the house, and lifted it easily up onto the porch. He reached out for the door knob... When it opened, one Eleanor Rigby, their neighbor, standing there. She was holding a five year old boy in a pink and blue cape in her arms, who was fast asleep.

"Thanks for finding him, Mrs. Arc," Eleanor sighed in relief. Cinder chuckled back, shaking her head. Ignis was sleeping in her arms, his face recently cleaned.

"No problem at all, Eleanor. He's free to come by any time!"

"Thanks!" Eleanor sighed. She smiled at Jaune. "Jaune! Great to see you! Your wife found little Jude-"

"I saw," Jaune said with a smile, "Glad he's all right."

"We'll see you at church!" Eleanor said, waving as she carried her sleeping son off the porch and down the path. Jaune pushed the buggy inside, letting go to kiss Cinder deeply.

"Mmm... How was your day?" Jaune asked. Cinder chuckled.

"Well... I may have kept a new supervillain from rising to challenge us in the future," she said, "But I suppose only time will tell. Perhaps he'll make for a useful asset if I ever decide to return to villainy."

Jaune blinked.

"I... Suppose?"

- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -

Isabel was back at work at the computer, looking over the findings and data with her practiced eye. The Beacon Infirmary was quite cutting edge-Not quite up to her standards, but close enough.

"How's it going, sweetie?"

Isabel looked up and smiled as Nick walked in.

"All right. Still not much hope but... I'm starting to understand things a bit better," she admitted. She shook her head. "I'm wondering if Jaune's Semblance might help the patient? 100 percent Aura transfer, Semblance boosting..." She hummed as she pored through a few more files. "It's possible..."

"That's great!" Nick cheered. "Poor girl stuck in a coffin... You'll get her out of it! I know it!"

"Aw," Isabel blushed softly. Nick walked over and rested a hand on her shoulder.

"You should train with him after classes, and before his dates."

Isabel gaped.

"Wha-Me?!"

"Yes, you," Nick said eagerly. "His Semblance is closer to yours than mine."

"But-But I'm not-I'm hopeless with a sword and-" Isabel tried, but Nick shook his head.

"A knight needs to know how to fight in hand to hand too, and you're amazing at that. Tactics, too!"

"I-You're literally the warrior here!" Isabel insisted. Nick smirked.

"Combat Medic? You did plenty, Izzy! And you were clearly meaning to do harm against Raven!"

"I-I..." She shook her head and clenched her fists. She took a deep breath, and her face went cool and stoic.

"I don't think it's a good idea," she said calmly. Nick scowled.

"You're doing the suppressing your emotions Vulcanoid thing again from Space Quest!"

Isabel nodded.

"Yes. Don't you like it?"

"Usually, it's really sexy, but not now," Nick said, shaking his head. "What are you afraid of, Izzy?"

Isabel frowned, and contemplated it.

"I... I may have smothered Jaune," she admitted, "and our other kids. In this situation, maybe he doesn't need me to hover over him. Four of our kids ran away-"

"As adults," Nick said firmly, "They could make their own decisions. Sure, you can be overbearing... Sometimes... A lot..."

Isabel scowled, her emotion suppression fading. It was a common occurrence around her husband.

Out of long honed survival instinct, he held up his hands.

"But you're still their mother, Izzy," Nick said kindly, "And he still loves you. Besides! He's got your brains, but he's got my... Not brain parts! You two fight a bit and you'll clear the air!"

"Not everything can be solved by fighting, Nick," Isabel sighed.

Nick blinked several times. Isabel shook her head.

"Not everything is a fight!"

He blinked several more times. Isabel scowled.

"Just because you imagine everything like a fight doesn't mean all of life can be summed up as one!" She stated in exasperation.

Nick blinked twice more. Isabel scowled and crossed her arms over her chest.

"We do have to train the kids for their punishment," Isabel pointed out. Nick waved his hand.

"I can handle that! I'll just do what Nana did!"

Isabel winced.

"Oh don't tell me... That training?"

"The very same!" Nick grinned, his teeth nearly sparkling in the light from the windows. He squeezed Isabel's shoulder. "Come on Izzy. He's gonna need us both to get through this. Just like the rest of our new family."

Isabel sighed softly, her shoulders drooping a bit. She slowly nodded.

"All right," she groaned, "You win. I'll train with him."

Nick whooped, thrusting his arms up into the air.

"Yes! Once again, my philosophy works!"

Isabel bonked him on the head.

"That's an entirely subjective read of the situation!"

"Ow! Okay, we both win!"

"That's not-UGH!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Beacon, Vale

- - -

The unused dorm at Beacon had been hijacked into a full-blown underground rager—string lights pilfered from festival decorations twinkled overhead like mischievous fireflies, mismatched furniture formed the makeshift dance floors, and the bass from the borrowed speakers thumped hard enough to make the windows rattle. Upperclassmen had smuggled in the contraband: bottles of hard cider, cheap beer, and a punch bowl glowing faintly blue that someone insisted was "totally safe, probably."

Bodies packed the space—dancing, laughing, grinding in ways that would've sent Professor Goodwitch into a meltdown. Hell, it probably would if other students weren't running interference.

Blake Belladonna lingered near the edge of the chaos, a cup of that suspiciously glowing punch in hand. She hadn't meant to drink much—one cup to blend in, to loosen the constant vigilance that came with hiding her ears. But the room was loud, the air thick with sweat and laughter, and the punch was deceptively sweet.

One cup became two. Two became… enough that her ears twitched restlessly under the bow, itching for freedom.

She slipped out a side door before anyone noticed, the cool night air hitting her like a balm. The balcony overlooked Beacon's cliffs, stars sharp above, the distant thump of music muffled.

Blake leaned on the railing, exhaling slowly. Her hand drifted up, tugging the bow loose. She longed for freedom-

"Mind if I join you?"

She startled slightly, turning.

Jaune Arc stood in the doorway, a half-empty bottle in hand, looking a little rumpled—shirt untucked, hair messier than usual, blue eyes soft with the kind of quiet melancholy alcohol brought out.

Blake hesitated, then shrugged. "It's fine."

He joined her at the railing, leaving polite space. They stood in companionable silence for a moment, staring at the stars.

Jaune glanced sideways. "You can take the bow off, if you want. I won't tell."

Blake's ears twitched sharply. She stared at him. "You… know?"

He nodded, sipping his drink. "Yeah. For a while. We had Faunus back in Radian—neighbors, friends. You get good at spotting the signs. The way you tilt your head sometimes, or how the bow moves when you're thinking hard." He smiled faintly. "Didn't want to make you uncomfortable by saying anything."

Blake blinked, processing. Confusion, curiosity—and a strange relief.

"How… long?"

"Since about a month after initiation," he admitted, rubbing his neck. "You're good at hiding it. Really good."

She let the bow fall completely, ears flicking in the breeze. "Most people don't notice. Or pretend not to."

Jaune shrugged. "I grew up on a farm. And my best friend growing up was a cat Faunus. I think you'd like her."

Blake smiled. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Jaune nodded.

Silence settled again—comfortable, easy.

Blake sipped her punch, the buzz making her bolder. "What's a farm boy like you doing morose at a party?"

Jaune stared at his bottle. "Just… thinking. About home. About why I left. Sometimes it hits harder when I'm drinking."

Blake nodded slowly. "I get that."

He glanced at her. "You okay? You looked like you needed air too."

She exhaled. "Parties are… loud. And I'm not great at them. Too many people, too much pretending."

Jaune smiled. "Same. I came out here to hide."

They shared a quiet laugh.

Then Blake asked, "What was it like? Growing up on a farm?"

Jaune's eyes softened. He talked—slow at first, then easier. About wide fields, sunrise chores, his seven sisters chasing him through apple orchards. About planting seeds and watching them grow, the satisfaction of harvest. About his parents—strong, loving, but terrified of losing him to the same life that had scarred them.

Blake listened, ears forward.

When he finished, she spoke—quiet, halting at first.

About Menagerie. About the White Fang's early days—hopeful, righteous. About Adam's charisma turning dark. About running, hiding, the bow becoming her mask.

Jaune listened without judgment, nodding at the right moments, asking gentle questions.

Hours passed. The party noise faded. They talked books—Ninjas of Love (Blake's secret shame, Jaune's unexpected enjoyment), old Mistral epics, even some Vacuo adventure serials. They talked dreams—hers for equality, his to protect people who couldn't protect themselves.

They talked until the punch wore off and the stars began to fade.

Blake realized—sometime between his story about sneaking cookies from his mom's kitchen and her confession about loving terrible romance novels—that she felt… safe.

Jaune felt it too—the way her ears perked when she got excited, the soft laugh she tried to hide.

When the sky lightened with dawn, they finally stood.

Blake tied her bow back on, but slower now. "This was… nice."

Jaune smiled—warm, real. "Yeah. We should do it again. Sober, maybe."

She laughed. "Definitely sober."

They walked back inside together—friends, truly, for the first time.

Romance came later—slow, careful, built on late-night talks and shared books and quiet moments where hands brushed and lingered.

But that night on the balcony?

That was where it started.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The Beacon teachers' lounge smelled of fresh coffee, old books, and the faint ozone tang of Dust experiments. Late morning sunlight slanted through the high windows, catching motes of dust like tiny stars. It was supposed to be a quiet hour—grading, gossip, the occasional grumble about Port's stories.

Today, it was anything but.

Dorothy Arc-Goodwitch stood in the center of the room like she'd just announced the end of the world.

"So… uh… yeah! I'm from the future!"

Doctor Oobleck paused mid-sip of his triple-espresso, green eyes blinking rapidly behind his glasses. "Yes, we covered that part."

Librarian Mombi nodded slowly. "I… had a feeling it would be something like this."

Ann Green, Stealth and Security instructor, leaned forward from her chair—arms crossed, stare intense enough to peel paint. Dorothy beamed back, undaunted.

"You're just as scary as ever, Aunt Ann."

Ann's eyebrow arched. "Which Starlight Ranger is my favorite?"

"Green, duh. Because he was evil."

Ann leaned back, satisfied. "…She's from the future, all right."

Professor Port slammed his mug down, mustache quivering with delight. "Incredible! Eleven different futures, no less! But in at least one, poor Glynda didn't end up a lonely spinster!"

Oobleck sighed. "That's your takeaway?"

"OF COURSE!"

Glynda took a deep, calming breath—inhale four counts, hold four, exhale four—then fixed Port with the most strained smile in recorded history. "Glad to see my love life is of such importance to you."

Port beamed, oblivious. "Of course it is, Glynda! We're very happy for you!"

Ann smirked. "Yes. Good to know you don't die alone. Go Glynda."

Mombi fidgeted. "Y-Yes, it's nice to know! Though… he's a little young…"

Port puffed up. "I met my wife when we were fifteen! I, Covered in Grimm guts after cutting my way through an ancient Dunewyrm! She cover in bandit blood that shone in the moonlight—love at first sight!"

Dorothy, quick to defend her mom's honor, jumped in. "If it helps, they really didn't do anything until much, much later."

Glynda deadpanned, "Thank you, Dorothy."

The door banged open.

Harold Mulberry stormed in—rumpled coat, perpetual scowl—beelined for the bookshelf, pulled out a hollowed book, retrieved a whiskey bottle, and started draining it.

Dorothy waved cheerfully. "Hey, Uncle Harold!"

Oobleck adjusted his glasses. "Ah. He's starting later today."

Port chuckled. "What? You can't start the day without a proper whiskey!"

Harold froze at Dorothy's voice. Took one look at her. Sighed. Went to another hidden compartment, grabbed a second bottle, and resumed drinking.

"Haaa…" he exhaled. "Glad it's a half day, after the class with your husband. I just realized the implications of time travelers. Now I want to get drunk."

Glynda sighed. "I suppose I can't blame you…"

Ann leaned forward. "So… do I marry my boyfriend and have lots of kids? Or die? Or get a sweet robot arm? Or become the Dark Queen of Vale?"

Dorothy grinned. "Yes, no, maybe, and sort of?"

Ann nodded, satisfied. "Cool."

Port bounced in his seat. "Do I realize my dream of slaying a Grimm Hydra in one-on-one combat?!"

Dorothy's smile turned fond. "If your stories are to be believed, you slayed three."

"YES!"

"But that's just one timeline," Oobleck pointed out as he adjusted his glasses. "It does no good to ask about such things, given the complexities of the multiverse. We're only seeing eleven possible timelines out of a potential infinite number."

Mombi's eyes went wide. "Ah! W-Wait?! Does that mean nothing we do matters?! If we're an endless series of copies doing things over and over, does anything we do even count?! Does it matter if a coin flips and you die or live or—?!"

Ann smacked her upside the head.

"OW! Hey!"

"Don't do that," Ann said flatly. "You'll just be more depressed."

Dorothy smiled reassuringly. "Honestly though… you all make it through in my timeline. I grew up with you as additional aunts and uncles!"

Port sniffled, a tear glistening. "I have a niece!"

Oobleck sipped his coffee. "You have six children."

"Yes, but A NIECE!"

Dorothy coughed..

"Actually, eight more nieces and nephews. Well, nine."

Mombi gaped. "Wait—Glynda had nine kids with Jaune?!"

Dorothy beamed. "Yup!"

Harold groaned from the couch, pulling out yet another bottle. "…And I have to teach them all…"

Glynda blinked. "Wait, I thought you said I had ten—because when you left I was still pregnant with…" She trailed off, noticing the smug expressions around her, and turned away to hide her burning face. "Moving on."

"Well, Clarence hasn't been born yet, so he doesn't count!" Dorothy pouted.

Ann snorted.

"Clarence? Ha. Lame name."

"That's my father's name," Glynda said, slightly annoyed. Dorothy nodded.

"We know it's a boy this time."

Ann shrugged.

"Cool dad. Lame name."

Oobleck cleared his throat.

"That said… we should avoid asking too many questions about our fates. It could make us second-guess ourselves at critical moments."

Dorothy shook her head.

"The timeline's already changed! So honestly, no idea what's going to happen."

Port's eyes lit up. "Which means we get to ask whatever we want!"

The door burst open again.

Professor Thumbelina Peach swept in—strawberry-blonde hair bouncing, smile bright enough to power Vale for a week.

"Sorry I'm late~! But not late for class! Hey guys! Hey Glynda! Hey Dorothy!"

She beamed at Oobleck with a sultry glint in her eyes. "Hey, Bart~…"
Oobleck nodded politely. "Good morning to you as well, Professor Peach."

Peach turned to Dorothy, practically vibrating. "Sooo… we didn't get a chance to talk about the future, did we?"

Dorothy shook her head. "No, Aunt Lina."

"Sooo… any spoilers?"

Dorothy rolled her eyes playfully. "Without naming names—yes, you do end up marrying him."

Peach threw her hands up. "YES! WOOOOOOOO!"

She coughed, composing herself. "Ahem… I mean… good."

Oobleck blinked. "Hm? What are you talking about?"

Peach waved a hand. "Oh, nothing~…"

Glynda leaned in, whispering to Dorothy. "Does she actually?"

Dorothy nodded excitedly. "Oh yeah—I was the flower girl, after all."

"Does she become less annoying in the future?" Harold muttered into his bottle.

Dorothy grinned. "Yes and no. Her energy just gets redirected—mainly to her kids. But the enthusiasm stays the same. Just… different topics."

Harold grunted. "I see."

Peach bounced over to Oobleck. "Bart, honey~! We should go to the festival~!"

Oobleck shook his head. "With everything happening, there's far more work than before. I'm afraid I don't have time. Perhaps Dorothy could accompany you."

Port jumped up. "Jolly good! Let's all go out together!"

"No," said Harold and Ann, in unison.

"Yes!" Port insisted.

Dorothy pouted at Harold, puppy-dog eyes deployed. "Come on, Uncle Harold—we almost never get to spend time together these days!"

"I don't know that. You're from the future—it hasn't happened yet."

Port pointed out at the quad outside the windows.

"We'll help you barbecue your famous boar roast!"

Harold paused. "…No vegetables?"

"None!"

"Hmm..."

Mombi raised her hand. "Can't we have a side salad?"

"Bring your own," Harold snorted, "We won't be eating them."

"Yeah!" Dorothy said.

"INDEED!" Port cried.

"Fine," Mombi pouted.

"Honestly, this isn't necessary," Glynda said quickly, "I can handle this just fine on my own."

Peach smirked evilly.

"Are you sure? When was the last time you went on a date, anyway?"

"Wasn't it that gallant young Atlasian officer?" Port asked, "In… When was it…"

"The last year at Beacon," Mombi murmured. She flushed as everyone, Glynda especially, stared at her. "W-Well it was!" She said defensively.

Mulberry raised an eyebrow over his whiskey.

"Are you sure you should go on a date at all? You're still his teacher. Time travel or not… How would it look to the press?"

Glynda took a moment to find her center.

"I agree that the look is… Potentially scandalous, especially after everything that has happened," Glynda said quietly. She shook her head. "But the alternative is time travel being possible becoming public. It's not like I haven't been in the news for potential scandals before, Harold. I have weathered them and things worked out."

"True," Harold grunted, "And you're not the type to ruin your career or our reputation on a fling. You're too honorable for that."

Glynda raised an eyebrow.

"Was that a compliment, Harold Mulberry?"

"Don't get used to them," Harold grunted. Port laughed.

"So many layers to my esteemed colleague!"

"Nope," Harold muttered.

Peach, gathering up her papers, shook her head. "Besides, we already spilled the beans on them being engaged as a cover story. The public's gonna make their judgements. And if she wants to go on a date with Arc, why shouldn't she?"

She gave Glynda a look.

"You do want to date him, don't you?"

Glynda glanced at the hopeful Dorothy. She thought back to her interactions with the young man. His smile, his moments of wisdom that made him seem older, and his resemblance to his father in a few ways… Yes, the attraction was there. She had never seriously pursued Nick-She had been too occupied with her studies, and Isabel had been clear via her actions if not her words that she considered Nick hers. But she had admired the young man's courage, honesty, and strength, and made a few overtures towards him. Overtures the young man had, predictably, misinterpreted as friendly. He had been so pure, so kind… Traits that Jaune had inherited, along with his mother's intelligence, recklessness, and stubbornness.

Had it been the timeline where it was just her, this would be a non-issue. Assuming Salem hadn't attacked, she would have waited until his graduation to proceed with a relationship of any kind. The spark was there. And she did want to kindle it. For her children and the future, if nothing else, she could see herself falling in love with the man Jaune Arc would become.

Glynda slowly nodded.

"Yes," she admitted quietly.

Peach grinned broadly.

"Then why not go for it? And reinforce the cover?"

"I don't think it will need too much work," Port chuckled, "If anyone would get his son engaged to eleven women, it'd be Nick Arc! Haha!"

Harold nodded.

"He is the same idiot he was back in school."

Peach smirked. "True enough! I've gotta go teach that idiot's sont. Be back later." She turned and headed off, the door shutting quietly behind her-Though not without a wink at Oobleck, which he blinked back at in confusion.

Dorothy's wry grin spread. "Yeah, Pop-Pops doesn't get much better in the future."

Mombi flushed. "I'm surprised Isabel lets him out without a leash."

She froze. "…I said that out loud…"

Dorothy face paled. "C-Can we not talk about Gram-Grams and Pop-Pops with… leashes? I'd really prefer not to have that image in my head." She whispered to herself, "It was bad enough walking in on Mom and Dad with one…"

Glynda turned bright red.

"In any event!" Port cried, showing some tact, "Glynda, you're engaged! It's good for you to go out and get to know each other! We're behind you, one hundred percent!"

"Thank the Breaker he's at least eighteen," Harold muttered.

Dorothy turned to the group. "Again—and I can't stress this enough—they really didn't do anything until Dad was at least twenty. Heck, it wasn't until he returned older from the Ever After that things got serious."

Silence fell. Oobleck leaned forward, his eyes intense with inquisitive light.

"Wait… the Ever After? It's real?"

"The mythical dimension between Man and Gods?!" Mombi gasped.

"The dimension of adventure and the Jabberwocky?!" Port asked in glee.

"The place in that lame novel that was turned into a horror movie, porno, and horror porno?" Ann inquired.

Dorothy winced. Oops.

She turned to Glynda with a nervous grin. "…So in my defense, I was almost one hundred percent positive you all knew about that."

A beat.

"Also that Dad is really the Rusted Knight."

"He's WHAT?!" Glynda cried.

The lounge dissolved into chaos—questions, exclamations, Harold reaching for another bottle.

Glynda scowled at her daughter.

"Start talking. Now."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Beacon, Vale

- - -

The underground party in the unused Beacon dorm raged like a storm contained in four walls—string lights twinkling overhead like mischievous stars, bass thumping through the floorboards, bodies packed tight in a chaotic swirl of laughter, spilled drinks, and dancing that pushed every boundary of "appropriate."

Winter Schnee hadn't come for the party.

She'd come for Weiss.

Word had reached her—her little sister, sneaking out to some illicit student gathering. Unacceptable. Irresponsible. Dangerous.

Winter cut through the crowd like an shark through water—uniform crisp despite the late hour, white hair tied severely, blue eyes cutting through the haze. Students parted instinctively, whispers trailing her like frost.

She found Weiss near the glowing punch bowl—cheeks flushed, cup in hand, laughing with Ruby and Yang in a way Winter hadn't seen since they were children.

The sight stopped her cold.

Then ignited her.

"Weiss Schnee!"

The music didn't stop, but the circle around Weiss did.

Weiss turned—smile fading, eyes widening. "Winter? What are you—"

Winter snatched the cup from her hand, sniffing it with disdain. "Alcohol? At your age? In this… den of debauchery?"

Weiss's face hardened. "I'm not a child. And you don't get to barge in here—"

"I am your sister! And your trainer! This is reckless—"

"Reckless?!" Weiss's voice rose, drawing more eyes. "Like running off to the military and leaving me and Whitley alone with Father?!"

Winter flinched as if struck.

The words kept coming—sharp, venomous, years of resentment spilling out.

"You abandoned us! Left Whitley to his games, me to his expectations! You got to escape—be the perfect soldier—while I had to smile and play heiress!"

Winter's composure cracked. "I left to protect you both! To build something he couldn't touch!"

"Protect?!" Weiss laughed bitterly. "You weren't there when he—"

She cut off, but the damage was done.

Winter's voice went quiet—dangerous. "You have no idea what I sacrificed."

Weiss's eyes glistened. "And you have no idea what it cost us."

She stormed off—pushing through the crowd, disappearing into the halls.

Winter stood frozen, the cup crumbling in her grip from sheer force.

The party resumed around her, but the noise felt distant.

She turned and walked out—to the balcony, needing air that didn't taste like regret.

The night was cool, stars sharp. She gripped the railing, breath shaking.

Footsteps approached.

Jaune Arc—looking awkward in the doorway, a bottle of water in hand—paused. "Uh… everything okay?"

Winter didn't turn. "Leave me."

He didn't. Instead, he joined her at the railing—respectful distance, quiet presence.

"I saw the fight," he said softly. "With Weiss."

Winter's jaw tightened. "It's family business."

Jaune nodded. "Yeah. I get that."

Silence fell. The sounds of the party were distant and muffled. Winter looked out at the cold stars, felt the breeze.

Then, to her surprise, she spoke.

"She thinks I abandoned them. That I ran."

Jaune listened in silence.

"I left to protect them," Winter whispered. "From him. From what he'd turn them into. But she's right… I wasn't there. Whitley's becoming his mirror. Weiss is breaking under the weight I left behind. I... I suppose I can't blame her for hating me. After she got out. It was... It was selfish of me."

Jaune's voice was gentle. "Weiss could never hate you. Not really. She's angry because she loves you. Because she misses you."

Winter's breath hitched. "How can you be sure?"

"Because I know what it's like to fight with family. To say things you regret. But love like that… it doesn't break. It bends. Hurts. But it holds." He smiles. "She always talked about you, you know? Her idol. Her inspiration. She loves you. She's just... Had to hold a lot back, and it came out. It doesn't change the fact she loves you, and she'll probably really regret what she said in the morning. It'll suck right now... But it will get better."

Winter turned to him—really looked. The awkward boy from Weiss' complaints had depth. She hadn't expected that.

"You're… wise for someone so young," she complimented softly.

Jaune rubbed his neck, cheeks pink. "I've just made a lot of mistakes, but... I try to learn from them."

She managed a faint smile. "Thank you. For listening."

He smiled back—warm, steady. "Anytime."

Jaune was right. The next morning, a very contrite Weiss had tearfully begged for forgiveness. Winter had granted it, holding her sobbing little sister close in a private room. Things were actually better between them after this.

In the weeks that followed—leading up to Vytal—Winter found excuses to visit Beacon. Training oversight. Coordination with Goodwitch. Meeting her little sister.

But whenever possible?

She stopped by to talk to Jaune.

And every little visit made her yearn for more.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

North Sanus, Gallia

Two months after the Vytal Attacks

- - -

The Arc farmhouse in Radian smelled of fresh bread and woodsmoke, the kind of homey warmth that made the world's chaos feel far away. The living room was cozy—overstuffed couches, family photos on the mantel, a fire crackling low in the hearth. Ruby had arrived just that morning, still pale from her coma but stubborn enough to insist on the meeting. She sat bundled in a blanket on the couch, silver eyes bright but tired.

Blake stood in the center of the room, ears flat, as she faced Nora, Ren, and Yang. Jaune lingered nearby, arms crossed, watching carefully. The air was tense as hell.

"I'm sorry," Blake said quietly. "For running out on you. For abandoning you when you needed me most. I thought… I thought I could handle Adam alone. That I had to. But I was wrong. I nearly got Jaune killed. I left you all to clean up the mess I made. And... And all I can say is I'm sorry."

Yang's fists clenched, her metallic and flesh. Blake winced. Her hair flickered like embers.

"You think a sorry fixes it? You didn't trust us! You ran off like we were nothing—like I wasn't there fighting for you too! You nearly got him killed chasing your damn ghost!"

She lunged—Nora catching her around the waist just in time, grunting with the effort.

"Easy, Yang! Easy! Kitty-Cat screwed up but-!"

Yang snarled, struggling. "Let go, Nora! She doesn't get to just waltz back and—"

"STOP IT!"

Ruby's voice cracked through the room like a whip. She was on her feet, blanket falling away, silver eyes blazing.

"This won't help!" Ruby shouted. "None of it! We're a team—we're supposed to be!"

Yang went still, breathing hard. Nora released her slowly.

Ruby turned to Blake, voice softer but firm. "I'm glad you're back. Really. But… I'm mad too. You hurt us."

Blake bowed her head. "I know. I deserve it."

Jaune stepped forward. "I'm sorry too. For going after her alone. I should've told you."

"Yes, you should have," Ruby stated, soft and hurt.

Yang glared at him, then at Blake, then stormed out the front door—slamming it hard enough to rattle the windows.

Ruby sighed, rubbing her temples. "We're going after Cinder. All of us. That hasn't changed."

Nora pumped a fist. "Hell yeah!"

Ren nodded. "Agreed."

"Yes, we will," Blake agreed, as Jaune nodded in agreement.

Ruby managed a small smile at Blake. "Welcome back."

She and Nora headed out after Yang. Jaune followed, pausing to squeeze Blake's shoulder. "Give her time."

The door closed, leaving Blake alone with Ren.

He regarded her calmly, hands folded.

"I'm with Jaune and Ruby to the end," he said. "I'll forgive you… but I won't forget. Don't do that again. Ever."

Blake met his eyes, just barely. "Yes... I-I won't."

Ren's expression softened a fraction. "You'll need to apologize to Weiss too."

"I will."

She hesitated. "And… Pyrrha. I'm sorry, Ren. For everything."

Ren shook his head. "That's not mine to forgive. Talk to Jaune."

He turned and headed out, closing the door behind him. Blake was left alone, only the cracking of the fireplace. Her ears folded over, as she sighed softly.

I promised I would stay... And I'm staying...

- - -

Later, as the sun dipped low over the fields, Blake found Jaune by the chicken coop. He tossed handfuls of corn to the clucking flock, the simple motion steady and familiar. His scars—Adam's marks—caught the golden light.

He looked up as she approached, smiling softly. "Hey."

"Hey."

Blake stopped beside him, watching the chickens peck and scratch for a while. She then slowly looked up at him.

"Pyrrha...?"

Jaune's hand stilled. He took a deep breath, eyes on the horizon. Blake shook her head.

"If you don't want to-"

"No," Jaune murmured, "I need to... I need to tell you. I need to be honest."

He visibly steeled himself. He locked eyes with her.

"She kissed me," he said quietly. "Told me she loved me. Then shoved me into a rocket locker and launched me away. Said I'd done enough. That I had to live."

Blake winced. She had suspected that Pyrrha might have had feelings for Jaune... But that far...?

His voice cracked. "I wasn't strong enough to help her. I'd have just gotten in the way. But I still… I still wish I could've stayed. Done something. Anything. And... And after I learned you ran off, I..."

He slowly shook his head. He turned away, staring out at the sunset. He looked back at Blake.

"I couldn't lose you too, Blake. I just... I couldn't. It was stupid but... I couldn't lose you."

Blake stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him. He leaned into her, one hand coming up to rest on her cheek. She tightened her grip around him.

She rested her chin on his shoulder. "It's okay,"… You don't always have to be strong. I'll be strong for you. I'm here. I'm not running anymore. I... I swear."

Jaune turned in her arms, pulling her close. His eyes glistened.

"I forgive you," he whispered. "And… thank you. For Pyrrha. She saved me. So I could save you."

Blake's tears fell silent as she held him tighter.

The chickens clucked on, oblivious.

The sun set slow and red over Radian.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Glimpses into Another Time: Cinder: The Farmhouse Visit

- - -

Radian, Vale

Six Years After Salem's Defeat

- - -

The little farmhouse looked beautiful under the late afternoon sun—white paint fresh, flower boxes blooming with wild roses, a swing creaking gently on the porch. Warm light spilled from the windows, and the faint sound of a lullaby drifted on the breeze.

Pyrrha Nikos stood at the end of the gravel path, Milo and Akuo left in the rental car because bringing weapons to this felt… wrong. With a strained smile she muttered to herself, "Because of course it would look like it came straight out of a fairytale ending."

It was so disgustingly perfect it made Pyrrha Nikos's stomach churn.

She sighed, shook her head, and walked up to the door.

Knocked.

The door opened almost immediately.

Cinder Fall stood there—exhausted, dark circles under her amber eyes, black hair tied back messily, very visibly pregnant. She wore a simple sundress that did nothing to hide the swell of her belly.

Pyrrha's breath caught.

Cinder rubbed her temple. "Ugh… Oh. Hello, Nikos. Come in… Just quietly? They're sleeping."

Pyrrha's practiced smile felt brittle, but she nodded. "Will do."

She stepped inside—the house smelled of fresh bread and baby powder. Photos lined the walls: Jaune and Cinder's wedding, smiling with teams RWBY and JNPR. Jaune holding newborn twins. Pyrrha in some of them—smiling, but always at the edge of the frame.

Cinder shuffled to the kitchen, moving with the careful waddle of late pregnancy. "Lemon, honey, bit of sugar…"

She still knew.

Pyrrha's throat tightened. "S-Sorry… I'm just surprised you remembered."

Cinder set the tea down with a tired huff. "I memorized it when I was plotting to kill you. Never went away, even after all this time." She managed a wry smile. "Huh. Funny, that."

Pyrrha took the cup carefully. "Yes. Funny."

Cinder slowly shook her head.

"I'm afraid Jaune's at the hospital for a class."

"Yes," Pyrrha said, sipping to buy time. "How unfortunate."

Cinder studied her over the rim of her own cup. "You're still so good at hiding your feelings… But I know better."

Pyrrha's grip tightened on the saucer. "Whatever do you mean?"

"You're still in love with my husband."

The words landed like a spear through the chest.

"I'm not-"

"Enough lies, Nikos," Cinder stated flatly.

Pyrrha's mask held—just barely. She took a deep breath.

"I never stopped loving him."

Cinder nodded slowly, unsurprised. "I know. Which is why you threw yourself into the fight so viciously. Why Jaune had to drag you back from trying to kill yourself a few times."

Pyrrha's jaw clenched.

"And why you told him," Cinder continued quietly. "Confessed to him."

Pyrrha's eyes flicked to the twins' playpen—Ashley and Ash sleeping peacefully behind cute pink bunny gates.

Cinder followed her gaze. "He told me you kissed him."

Pyrrha closed her eyes. She remembered—Vacuo burning, the battle for them all, his gentle rejection. "Not one of my brightest moments."

Cinder's voice softened. "He begged forgiveness." She sighed. "For a moment… I wanted to kill you. There are still days I'm glad you suffered."

Pyrrha's eyes opened, sharp.

"But it would hurt him," Cinder said. "And that would hurt me. And you saved his life. I can't hate you for that."

Pyrrha gave a brittle smile. "I didn't do it for you."

"I know." Cinder leaned forward. "You still live under a mask, Nikos. You can drop it with me. There's no need for it."

Pyrrha's fingers clenched. "This mask is the only thing protecting you right now."

Cinder's eyes narrowed. "That's bullshit. It's a polite fiction you tell yourself. Otherwise I'd already be dead."

She slapped the teacup out of Pyrrha's hand—shards clattering across the table.

"I'm going to make this very clear, Pyrrha Nikos," Cinder said, voice low and fierce, "because you're too stupid to figure it out. I don't hate you. And I don't want you to hate me. I don't… I don't want you to be unhappy."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. "You say that as if I'm not already."

Cinder's composure cracked—just a fraction. "You will not even meet me halfway, will you? You're so determined to make yourself miserable!"

Pyrrha's voice was calm, but steel lay beneath. "You say that as if you'd think that's a bad thing." She tilted her head. "Also, is that all you think I do?"

Cinder threw her hands up. "You're literally just your job!"

"And? What's your point?"

"You're not remotely happy! Are you insane?!"

Pyrrha shrugged. "Do I need to be happy with it? It keeps me calm."

Jaune's voice came from the doorway—tired, gentle. "Cinder? Sweetie… I know you mean well, but this isn't your area of expertise."

Cinder scowled. "How long—?"

"The entire time."

Pyrrha blushed, looking away. "Figures that was you."

Cinder glared between them. "She's being ridiculous!"

Jaune moved to her side, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Cinder… not helping."

The twins burbled in their sleep.

"I just..." Cinder shook her head. "I have experience with people who make themselves miserable. Horrible experience... And I just want you to stop! Before you snap!"

Pyrrha rolled her eyes at Cinder. "Please. I'm not that powerful. Nor that petty."

Jaune murmured, "Pyrrha… you murdered five men with a flick of your wrist once."

Pyrrha massaged her temple. "Yes, Jaune, I remember. I was there. It wasn't the first time, and I doubt it'll be the last."

Jaune sighed. "Cinder, would you give us some—?"

"No!" Cinder snapped. "Damnit, I'm trying here!"

Pyrrha cracked a faint smile. "For what it's worth, she really is. Even I can recognize that."

Jaune nodded. "I know."

Cinder's voice broke. "I even watched that stupid pony show about friendship…!"

Jaune pulled her into a hug. "Cinder…"

Pyrrha waited patiently as Jaune comforted his wife, the twins stirring softly.

Curiosity won. "Which generation?"

Cinder sniffled. "Fourth! The others all suck!"

Pyrrha smiled fondly. "You're not wrong." She shook her head. "Did you know my mom voiced one of the characters?"

"YES!"

Pyrrha chuckled. "One of the few roles I actually enjoyed watching her play. She almost didn't get it."

Cinder peeked up, interested despite herself. "O-Oh?"

Pyrrha's smile turned nostalgic. "She'd always tell me it was because the studio thought she was too good for the role. Truth was, she couldn't stop ad-libbing her lines."

Cinder managed a watery laugh. "I… I see…"

Jaune kissed Cinder's temple. "Go lie down. I'll watch them. Promise."

Cinder nuzzled him. "I love you…"

"I love you too."

She shuffled off, leaving Jaune and Pyrrha alone with the twins.

Jaune knelt to check on Ashley and Ash—smoothing blankets, smiling softly at their sleepy faces.

Pyrrha watched him, something aching and warm in her chest.

"How was class?" she asked.

"Good." Jaune tickled Ashley's belly, earning a sleepy gurgle. "Mom wanted me to get my doctorate already, but… I want to work for it."

Pyrrha's smile was fond. "You've never been one to take the easy path."

"No," he agreed. "I haven't."

He looked up at her—serious now.

"Pyrrha… I want you to stay in Radian for a while. I talked to the Alliance Commission—you've got more than enough leave saved up. Nora, Ren, Ruby—they've all been trying to make you take a vacation."

Pyrrha raised an eyebrow. "And you think Radian is the best place for that?"

Jaune lifted Ashley gently, offering her to Pyrrha. "I'm worried about you, Pyr. Is it wrong to want my partner to relax? Be happy?"

Pyrrha took the baby carefully—Ashley blinking up at her with curious amber eyes. "No. It's not wrong."

Jaune smiled. "Besides… I want my kids to know their best auntie ever."

Ashley blew a raspberry in Pyrrha's face.

Pyrrha laughed—soft, genuine. "You're lucky you're cute."

She settled Ashley in her lap, the weight of the child warm and real.

Jaune watched them—something soft in his eyes.

Pyrrha met his gaze. "I'll stay."

Just for a while.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian, Vale

Fifteen Years After the Defeat of Salem

- - -

The Arc-Nikos farmhouse had a closet Pyrrha had always meant to organize.

It was one of those sprawling, walk-in affairs—built by Nick Arc himself back when the family kept growing and needed space for everything from winter coats to old tournament trophies. Pyrrha usually avoided it; too many memories stuffed between hangers and boxes.

But nine-year-old Xander Arc-Nikos—curious, red-haired, and already taller than his mother at that age—had no such reservations.

He'd been hunting for an old practice shield ("for science," he'd claimed) when he stumbled into the back corner.

And found the armor.

Not the practical bronze of Pyrrha's old tournament gear. Not the reinforced plate Jaune wore on missions.

No.

Xander emerged from the closet like a explorer returning from a forbidden ruin, arms full of gleaming metal that caught the afternoon light in very strategic places.

"Mom?" he called, voice pitched with innocent confusion. "Why do you have these full sets of armor in the closet? None of them seem to be for battle."

Pyrrha, in the kitchen stirring a pot of stew, froze. The wooden spoon slipped from her fingers with a clatter.

"And a lot of them are really skimpy…" Xander continued, holding up a particularly revealing piece—a corset-style breastplate with far more decoration than coverage. "Like… is this for swimming or something?"

Pyrrha's face went the color of her old sash.

"Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmm…"

Her mind catapulted back—ten years earlier, their honeymoon in a secluded Mistralian villa overlooking the sea. Jaune had been shy at first, but Pyrrha—ever the bold one in private—had suggested "a little roleplay" to celebrate their new life together.

Jaune had surprised her.

He'd emerged from the bedroom in a flowing white tunic trimmed with gold, hair tied back with a ribbon. Genderbent Jeanne D'Arc—the Maiden of Freedom from ancient tales, come to "liberate" the wicked Witch Queen of Argus.

Pyrrha, in dark silks, bikini armor, and a crown of black thorns, had played her part to the hilt.

"No!" she'd cried dramatically, backing against the bedpost. "You will never defeat me, Arc! You barbarian! I will crush you!"

Jaune—voice deepened theatrically, eyes twinkling with mischief—advanced. "Foolish evil Witch Queen! I will break you into my good little wife! You will forsake your evil gods and embrace the light!"

Pyrrha had gasped, hand to her forehead. "Nooooo~! No matter how manly or virile you are, you'll never break me~!"

Jaune's grin turned downright devilish. "Oh, we'll see about that, Witch Queen~!"

"OHHH MYYYY~!"

Back in the present, Pyrrha's blush could've signaled airships on approach.

Xander tilted his head. "Mom? You okay? Your face is really red."

Pyrrha snapped back, waving her hands frantically. "Oh! Um… we wore those for All Hallow's Eve! And costume parties! Yes! Lots of costume parties!"

Xander's eyes lit up. "Can I have armor for a party?!"

Pyrrha managed a strangled laugh. "When you're older…"

Much older.

Preferably never.

She'd burn the evidence first.

But as Xander scampered off—still clutching the suspiciously revealing outfit—Pyrrha buried her face in her hands.

Jaune was never going to let her live this down.

If he ever found out.

(Which, knowing her luck, he would.)

- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Kuo Kuana, Menagerie

Twelve Years After Salem's Defeat

- - -

The bedroom in their Kuo Kuana home was quiet except for the distant sound of waves and the soft creak of the old ceiling fan. Moonlight slipped through the slatted blinds, painting silver bars across the quilt. Blake Belladonna-Arc sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown, knees drawn up, tail curled tightly around her ankle like it was trying to anchor her. She looked tired—beautifully tired, the kind that came from twelve years of love, chaos, teaching, parenting, and never quite enough sleep—but there was something else in her amber eyes tonight: nervous anticipation.

The door opened with a gentle click.

Jaune stepped in, yawning wide enough to crack his jaw, hair mussed from wrestling three toddlers into bed. He was still in his teaching clothes—rolled-up sleeves, a few chalk smudges on his forearm from the day's lecture—but his shoulders sagged with the familiar, bone-deep exhaustion of a father of ten.

"Phew…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, Lily, Willow, and Peony are asleep. Finally. They weren't nearly as bad as Milo, Leo, and Fenton, huh?"

Blake managed a small, shaky laugh. "Y-Yeah… Heh…"

Jaune crossed the room, dropping onto the mattress beside her with a sigh that ruffled the quilt. "Geez… ten kids. It's amazing, huh?"

Blake's ears twitched. "It… It really is."

He rubbed his temples, voice softening. "And exhausting. If we didn't have Ruby and Yang rotating in as nannies to help out, poor Trifa would be run ragged."

"Yup…"

Jaune leaned back on his hands, staring at the ceiling. "Leander and Leandra are getting moody now. Geez. Growing up way too fast. I don't know if I could handle more kids right now! We've gone through this so many times! It's just a grind! I swear, these are the last kids we're having!"

Blake went very still.

Jaune noticed. "Blake? What is it? Are you all right? Long day?"

She hesitated—ears flicking nervously—then slowly reached under her pillow and pulled out a small plastic stick. Ten of them, actually, lined up like tiny soldiers. All positive.

She handed him the one on top.

Jaune took it automatically. Stared at the double lines.

Blake's voice was barely above a whisper. "I did it ten times."

Silence.

"I… I know we tried all the kinds of birth control," she rushed on, words tumbling over each other. "I thought we were safe… But… Um… I-I just…"

Jaune's face was unreadable for a heartbeat too long.

Then he grinned—wide, bright, the same sunlit smile that had once made her heart stutter on a balcony a lifetime ago.

He pulled her into his arms so fast she squeaked, burying his face in her hair.

"Mmm…" He kissed her temple, then her cheek, then her lips—soft, reverent, overflowing. "I love you. And I'm so happy we're having another."

Blake's breath hitched. Tears pricked her eyes as she hugged him back—fierce, desperate, like she could merge their heartbeats if she held tight enough.

"So am I…" she whispered against his shoulder.

Jaune laughed—quiet, joyful, exhausted—and kissed her again, slower this time.

"Eleven," he murmured. "We're gonna need a bigger house."

Blake sniffled-laughed into his shirt. "Or more aunts and uncles."

"Definitely more aunts and uncles."

They stayed like that—tangled together on the edge of the bed, moonlight pooling around them, the distant crash of waves keeping time with their breathing.

Eleven children.

A life neither of them had ever expected.

And somehow—impossibly—exactly the one they wanted.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Beacon, Vale

- - -

The roar of the Vytal Festival crowd still echoed through the undercroft tunnels as Team JNPR stepped off the arena lift. Jaune wiped sweat from his brow, Crocea Mors collapsed and sheathed, while Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren walked beside him—bruised, exhilarated, victorious.

They'd just beaten BRNZ.

May Zedong's team.

Jaune spotted her first—standing near the medical tent, shoulders slightly, but smiling anyway. She looked up as he approached, cheeks already pink.

Jaune rubbed his neck. "Hey, May… sorry about that. I didn't mean to—"

May cut him off with a soft laugh, shaking her head. "No, no—don't apologize. Your performance was great! Super ruthless!" She clasped her hands behind her back, rocking on her heels. "If this was a real battle, I'd still have been defeated. I couldn't sneak up on you and stab you in the throat!"

Jaune blinked.

May's blush deepened to scarlet. "N-Not that I would! I mean—I wouldn't! Because… because I'm your girlfriend!"

Jaune's own cheeks went pink. He smiled—soft, relieved. "That's… reassuring."

May fidgeted, tapping her fingers together nervously. "I-I just mean… good fight. You earned it. Rest of my team will congratulate you after they wake up, I know they will!"

"Sorry not sorry!" Nora chirped.

Before Jaune could scold her, a figure approached—tall, dark brown skin, black hair tied back in a neat braid, dressed in crisp white-and-purple robes that marked her as Pandu diplomatic staff.

She bowed slightly. "Jaune Arc? King Arjun and Queen Saia of Pandu request your presence in the royal skybox. Your team and… your companion are welcome as well."

May's eyes widened. "Pandu? The king and queen?!"

She turned to Jaune, voice rising in panic. "What did I do?! Did I offend them?! Did I kill one of their relatives in Vacuo?! Oh no, oh no—"

Jaune caught her shoulders gently, pulling her into a quick hug. "Hey, hey—nothing like that. They're my godparents."

May froze. "Your… what?"

Pyrrha, who'd been lingering nearby with Nora and Ren, stepped forward, eyes wide. "Godparents?!"

Nora bounced on her toes. "Details! Spill!"

Ren tilted his head. "This is… unexpected."

Jaune rubbed his neck again, sheepish. "I didn't want to brag. They're old friends of my parents. They were on the same team at Beacon. They asked to be my godparents when I was born."

May stared up at him. "You're… royalty-adjacent?!"

Jaune winced. "Not really. Just… family friends."

The attendant cleared her throat politely. "If you'll follow me?"

The group was led through secure corridors, past security checkpoints, up a private lift to the skybox.

The doors opened onto opulence—silk drapes in saffron and indigo, low tables laden with spiced fruit and tea, massive windows overlooking the arena. King Arjun and Queen Saia turned from the glass—Arjun tall and broad, dark skin glowing under the lights, black hair streaked with silver with gray eyes; Saia elegant and serene, red hair short but woven with gold threads, eyes crinkling in a warm smile.

Jaune bowed slightly. "Your Majesties. Thank you for inviting us."

Arjun's deep voice rumbled warmly. "Jaune, my boy. No titles here. Come."

Jaune stepped forward, gesturing to his team. "This is my team—Pyrrha, Nora, Ren. And this…" He took May's hand, squeezing gently. "This is my girlfriend, May Zedong."

Arjun's eyes—suddenly glowing a soft, ethereal blue—fixed on May.

The room stilled.

Arjun took one step forward. Then another.

"…Maia…?"

May squeaked. "Ummm… I-I'm just May…"

Saia's hand flew to her mouth. Tears welled instantly.

"Maia… You… You're alive!"

Before May could react, Arjun closed the distance and pulled her into a crushing hug. Saia joined a heartbeat later, both royals enveloping the stunned Vacuoan sniper like she was the most precious thing in Remnant.

Jaune's jaw dropped.

Arjun pulled back just enough to cup May's face, thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Our daughter… It's really you…!"

Saia laughed through tears. "We searched for years! After the raid—we thought—"

May trembled, her eyes huge. "I… I don't remember…"

Jaune stepped forward instinctively. "She was raised in Vacuo. Orphanage. No memory of—"

Arjun turned to him, eyes shining. "Jaune!"

He pulled Jaune into a bear hug that lifted him off the ground.

"Thank you! Thank you so much! You've brought back our daughter!"

Saia laughed, wiping her eyes. "And they're going to get married!"

Jaune choked. "W-Wait, what?!"

May squeaked louder. "W-WE HAVEN'T THOUGHT THAT FAR AHEAD!"

Nora—watching from the doorway with the rest of the teams—threw both fists in the air. "YAY! Can I be Royal Wedding Planner?!"

Jaune spun. "NORA!"

The royals laughed—deep, joyous sounds that filled the skybox.

Arjun clapped Jaune on the shoulder. "We'll discuss betrothals later. For now—family reunited!"

Saia took May's hands, beaming. "Come, my darling. Tell us everything. We have so much time to catch up."

May—still stunned, trembling—looked back at Jaune.

He smiled—soft, steady, proud.

"Go on. They've waited a long time."

May nodded slowly, letting her birth parents lead her toward the window overlooking the arena.

Pyrrha stepped up beside Jaune, voice quiet. "Your girlfriend… is Pandu royalty."

Jaune exhaled. "Yeah. Apparently."

Nora bounced over. "This is the best plot twist ever!"

Ren sighed. "We're never going to hear the end of this."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Most of the students who attended Weapons Maintenance class at the same time as Jaune also attended the same first year Dust Studies class with Professor Thumbelina Peach. As such most of his potential brides had followed him to his next class, with the exception of Blake who had been pulled aside by her parents to give them a hand with something.

The Dust Studies room was double the size of a regular classroom; one half full of desks and chairs in front of an array of chalkboards, whiteboards and screens for lectures and pure bookwork while the other half was full of chemistry lab stations fit for any hands on learning one would expect for a class about Dust.

"Since I'm sure none of you are in the headspace for new material with the festival going on today will be a review day," Professor Peach announced as soon as the hour bell rang. "And today's review is all about the most important Dust Mixture for a Hunter to know. Now what do you think that is? Anyone?" With no volunteers she pointed to a random student, "Lie Ren? What's the most important Dust Mixture for a Hunter to know?"

"Healing Dust," Ren confidently answered. "When you're out in the field away from civilization having such a versatile medical supply is an invaluable boon. Other dust mixtures are either situational in their application or are too difficult to make on your own without specialized equipment you won't always have access to."

"That's right," Peach smiled at his answer. "Healing Dust is always valuable; even the low grade mixtures you can make in the field without the equipment of a proper lab can save someone's life in an emergency. The same can't be said for other dust mixtures. For instance Hard-Light Dust for all of the miraculous things it can do is only useful in a high quality mix that requires specialized equipment to make. Mixtures like Steam Dust can be easily mixed in the field without special equipment but it's rather niche in its applications. Lava Dust is overkill when regular Fire Dust will do the same job in most situations. Healing Dust on the other hand always has a role in your kit, and so mastering this mix will make up forty percent of your final grade."

A few murmurs rippled across the classroom as the students shifted their notes around, half of them thankful for the reminder while the other half thought this was the first time the teacher had mentioned this.

"Now, show of hands; who remembers the formula off the top of their head?" Peach asked as she stepped up to the whiteboard and uncapped a dry erase marker.

Jaune raised his hand straight away, as did Nora, May, Weiss and Ruby. Arslan and Yang rose their hands only a few moments after, with Emerald adding her own hand to the mix a moment later than them. Soon the entire class had their hands in the air.

"Good," Professor Peach smiled before pointing to Yang, "So what is the formula?"

"Roughly one half Plant Dust, one eighth Fire Dust, one eight Water Dust, one eight Wind Dust, one eight Rock, with a pinch of Lighting Dust on top of everything that makes these fractions rough instead of exact," Yang explained.

"And how do you mix it?" The Professor asked.

"You start by mixing the Rock and Water Dust together until you're on the cusp of making Clay, at which point you add the Wind and then the Fire one right after the other in that exact order," Yang began, glancing to Nora and then Weiss to be sure she wasn't misremembering the process. As neither of her friends were cringing Yang felt confident as she continued, "Once you have those four in a relatively even blend you can start adding in the Plant Dust one quarter at a time, mixing that quarter in completely before adding the next one. After all of the Plant Dust is mixed in you throw in the Lightning Dust, which acts as the catalyst that turns things into proper Healing Dust."

"Very good!" Peach smiled as she wrote down the formula Yang had described on the whiteboard. "Now does anyone remember the why's of this formula?"

Realizing he could answer that Jaune raised his hand. Not as many other people rose their hands this time and so Professor Peach pointed to him.

"So the earliest versions of Healing Dust were made in an attempt to replicate a few different hereditary healing semblances," Jaune began his explanation. "Most of these semblances used Plant Dust to fuel their healing, and so when alchemists of old tied to create a Dust based panacea most of them assumed Plant Dust would make for the best base component. It was a classic case of people reaching the right conclusion using the wrong equation, since Healing Dust ultimately works on a different principle than those healing semblances."

"Could you elaborate on that?" Peach smiled at the chance to test his deeper than expected knowledge. "What was the wrong equation?"

"Right, so most hereditary healing semblances take the organic structures of Plant Dust and implant them into the patient's body while modifying them into something the body can process for high speed healing," Jaune replied. "The old alchemists sought to create a Dust the body could use like that without the need for a semblance to modify the plantlike organic structures into animal like organic structures. This lead the creation of the different varieties of Fungal Dust as well as the highly dangerous carcinogen known as Flesh Dust. Neither of them accomplished the goal of creating a Dust that could heal without a semblance, just giving people who had healing semblances more options."

"That's correct, now what's Plant Dust's actual purpose in Healing Dust?"

"The organic components Plant Dust adds to the mix act as a kind of Aura sink, absorbing all of the Aura that can't be filtered during the transfer," Jaune explained. "The actual filtering is done by the Fire, Wind, Water and Rock mix. As for why those four filter Aura? Those four kinds of Dust are associated with different parts of the Soul: In old school alchemy Rock represented your bones while Water represented your vital fluids with the two of them combining into Clay to represent your flesh. Wind represented the breath of life or motive force while Fire represented passion and will, the two of them combining to represent one's Aura. The Lightning Dust is associated with the divine spark of eternal essence that brings the other four together into a complete soul."

"Very good, now for a trickier question," Peach's smile grew wider. "The first true Healing Dust mixture was created roughly a decade before The Great War by Lady Liath Airmed of Albion. This landmark breakthrough only had a five percent efficacy rate compared to the twenty percent efficacy rate expected of most modern Healing Dust. How was her mixture different from our modern blends and why did the changes lead to better efficiency?"

"Lady Airmed's mixture didn't mix the Rock and Water Dust until they were on the verge of combining into Clay Dust, and on top of that her mixture used twice as much Fire and Wind Dust as it did Rock and Water," Jaune explained. "There was a common line of thought that kept rolling around in the zeitgeist of her era that assumed the material was inherently corruptive of the spiritual, and so she assumed the more materialistic Dusts wouldn't be involved in the filtering process. Because of that she used the smallest amount of Rock and Water Dust she could get away with since she thought the only purpose they served in the mixture was to ground the spiritually alined aspects of Fire and Wind Dust. It took Lady Airmed another fifteen years of further research to realize that the more materialistic Dusts were part of the filtering process and needed to be in balance with the more spiritually attuned Dusts to achieve better results."

"Right again, now this is a question I would normally save for third or fourth year students, but since your mother is a leader in the field of medicine there's a chance you might have heard some of her ideas about it if you don't have some of your own," Peach sounded hopeful. "How can Healing Dust be further refined?"

"Okay," Jaune paused in thought for a moment before he put forth an idea. "So mixing Rock and Water Dust to the moments right before they combine into Clay Dust was another major step in improving the efficiency of Healing Dust. That means there's a good chance mixing Fire and Wind Dust together until they're on the verge of turning into their own combination Dust might also raise the efficiency of Healing Dust. The problem is we haven't yet discovered a stable combination of equal parts Wind and Fire, so it's hard to test that theory."

"Not a bad idea," Peach nodded in satisfaction from Jaune's answers before turning her focus to the class as a whole. "Now, I know our little discussion might make some of you want to try and deviate from the recipe for your own experimentations: today's lab isn't about that. Today's about what's practical in the field, so you're all going to be graded on your mastery of the most stable and fieldwork friendly recipe we have for Healing Dust. Now grab your partners and claim your lab spaces! Let's get mixing!"

Everyone got out from their desks and made their way over to their usual chemistry stations. As Jaune headed towards the space he normally shared with Pyrrha he noticed Weiss slide over to that station as if she wanted to share a few words with him before she joined Ruby at their normal lab space.

"I must say, I'm surprised and impressed," Weiss admitted as he got close. "That was an excellent display of Dust knowledge. Where was this at the beginning of the year?"

"Oh, well," Jaune bashfully rubbed his neck. "I was a bit overwhelmed back then. I was so worried about being caught out as a fraud and trying to catch up that I kind of got lost in my own head and didn't absorb what I should have. I was just lucky that I could still lock in during do or die situations."

"I guess that's why you came off as such a dolt back then," Weiss mused. Then her face morphed as if her words sounded too harsh to her own ears, "That is, I mean, you-"

"It's alright, I realize I didn't leave the best first impression," Jaune sagged a bit.

"Jaune," Weiss sounded serious, so he straightened up an looked her in the eyes. "In hindsight I didn't make the best first impression either, and yet I can only assume you still saw the best in me. And you kept seeing it in spite of how cold I was towards you, and for that I'm grateful." Her voice grew low and whisper like, "I... I'm sorry... for how I acted towards you back then."

"Weiss, you don't need to apologize," Jaune reassured her. "Especially since we both got off on the wrong foot."

Weiss preened at his words, which was probably the wrong way to express the relief flowing through her if the glower the other potential brides were starting to send her way meant anything.

"Jaune, you just tried to flirt with her in a kind of awkward way and took a little too long to stop," Ruby interjected as she grabbed Weiss by the elbow and started to pull her partner towards their work station. "She left you pinned to a tree in the middle of a Grimm infested forest without any idea how long it would take for someone else to come and free you. Her first impression was worse, so don't try to downplay her side of things the next time she apologizes for something."

"I, what, You left him pinned to that tree too!" Weiss objected as Ruby dragged her off.

"I knew Pyrrha would be there to free him in a few moments, you didn't," Ruby replied.

"How could you know that?"

"She pinned him to that tree with a javelin Weiss. Hard to throw those beyond a reasonable walking distance. The math to figure out how far away she could have been was pretty easy."

Jaune suppressed the chuckle that wanted to bubble up from the way Weiss was indignantly squawking. He then turned towards his workstation to find that Professor Peach was there with the kind smile of a proud teacher.

"So, you have eleven brides to be Jaune," the Dust Studies teacher observed in a conversational tone just low enough to not carry over the general din of students talking and setting up their lab spaces.

"I do," Jaune confirmed not really sure why his teacher wanted to talk about it.

"And from what I've gathered you're planing on making all of them proper wives, is that right?" Peach asked.

"That is the goal," Jaune admitted. "We just need to see if it can work out."

"Well, eleven is pretty close to the upper limit where everyone can be more or less on equal footing," Peach mused bringing a hand to her chin. "You could maybe add one or two and still make it work, but beyond that you'd need to layout an official hierarchy. Hmm..."

"Uh... Why are you asking me about this?" Jaune asked with a bit of concern.

"Oh, I'm just striking down a flight of fancy," She explained herself with a shrug. "Dorothy was willing to tell me that I eventually married the man that I'm interested in, but she didn't name names. I'm just making sure I didn't misinterpret who she meant by crossing everyone else that was ever on my list off it."

"I was on your list?" Jaune's confusion was palpable.

"It was obvious from the first day of class that you have the best parts of both your parents, which cover most of their downsides," Peach shrugged. "You would have made a fine husband a year or two after your graduation. So you did feature in one or two different flights of fancy."

"What." Jaune couldn't find any other words.

"Anyways if you ever need any help juggling your different relationships come and talk to me," the Professor offered. "At the very least I can offer you a noninvolved ear to vent to when things get stressful."

With that Thumbelina Peach walked away towards a pair of students who had a history of messing up their mixtures to offer a guiding hand. The handful of potential brides that had been close enough to hear her conversation with Jaune eyed her with varying degrees of suspicion.

"Relax mom," Xander placed a calming hand on Pyrrha's shoulder, "In my future she is married to Professor Oobleck; she isn't going to try and worm her way into this."

"It's the same in our timeline," Ashley added, "Although she needed to form an alliance with Professor Mombi to pull him out of his history books."

"It was like that in my timeline too," Xia chipped in.

Soon all of the rest of his children had added in their own two cents, all of them agreeing that Thumbelina had some kind of relationship with her fellow Professor. His potential wives mollified they all started to work on mixing their own batch of Healing Dust to be graded.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Atlas, Solitas

Two Years After Vytal

- - -

Cinder sat in the hospital room. The rest of Jaune's... Of their friends had all left, some being dragged away. She still kept her vigil, watching his chest slowly rise and lower as he breathed via machines. She stared into nothing, her mind awash with images... Images of the dead.

She paid no mind to the bags under her eyes, to the tear marks on her face. To the rumples in her clothing. All that mattered was Jaune in front of her... And the feelings that dragged her down.

Salem had replaced her. As easily as she had replaced any other servant. As easily as she replaced a lightbulb. Somehow, this hurt... But seeing who had replaced her was even worse.

Her name was Iridescent... And she had murdered an entire village just to draw them out. Just to try and kill her and Ruby. Just for fun.

Jaune... Jaune had taken the hits for her. He'd fought the mad Maiden for them... For her...

And this was the price he had paid.

The door slowly opened. She barely reacted as the form of Qrow Branwen entered, quiet and soft. He sat down next to her in the only other chair.

"Rubes asked me to help keep watch," he said, "I just got off another mission."

Cinder slowly nodded, barely comprehending the words. Qrow sucked in a breath.

"We got cocky after Haven," he said, "Thought we had Salem on the ropes... Guess she still has some tricks up her sleeve."

Cinder again was silent, staring at her boyfriend. Qrow sat in the silence, leaning back, unbothered. The silence just stretched on, and on. Like wires twisting inside her, outside her...

"I've done the same things she has," Cinder whispered. "I've killed, just for her. Just to hurt. Just... Just to make a point."

Qrow slowly nodded. Cinder sucked in another breath, and let it out as a hiss.

"... I... I feel this weight. This... Guilt," she murmured, "This hatred of myself... Because..."

"You see what you were. What you could have been," Qrow said quietly. Cinder swallowed.

"... I remember those kills. I thought I was elated at the time," she admitted, "I thought it was joy... But..."

Qrow sighed softly. Cinder's eyes didn't meet his. She didn't know if she could meet his.

Then, he spoke.

"Growing up in the Branwen tribe, we murdered. We pillaged. We slaughtered. Raven and I were no different. I killed prisoners at the age of ten. Slit their throats. Our entire mission to Beacon was to infiltrate their ranks, learn their methods, and come back so we could raid and steal and murder better. That is literally what we were sent to do, by our father."

Cinder didn't stir, but he could tell she was listening. Qrow continued.

"Nothing I have done since turning my back on my tribe will make up for the crimes I committed. Somewhere deep inside you, you knew it was wrong. A voice inside you screamed for you to stop. You saw no way out. It was the way things were; they couldn't be changed. You tried to convince yourself the people you were hurting deserved it. You became numb to their pain and suffering. You learned to shut out the voice speaking against it. You rationalized it, that this is how the world was. That all that mattered was you, what you wanted, what your family wanted... But you knew it was wrong."

Cinder sucked in a shaky breath. She held up her hands, which trembled in the dim light cast by the medical equipment.

"I had a choice," she whispered. Qrow nodded.

"There's always a choice."

"I made the wrong ones. Over and over. I ignored the voice..."

"You did... Until you didn't. Until you made the right choice," Qrow said.

Cinder shut her eyes.

"... I can't... I can't imagine a day where I will forgive myself for what I've done," she admitted. Qrow nodded.

"That's because it will never come," he said quietly, "Jaune forgave you. Ruby forgave you. Pyrrha, Nora... They all will tell you they forgive you. That's for them. They don't want to let the burden of anger destroy you. Or them. They want to give you grace, because they care about you. They are better people than you. But you? You will never forgive yourself. That day will never come."

Cinder bowed her head. Her shoulders shook as she cried softly.

"So what do I do?" She whispered.

Qrow shifted, leaning forward. His words were slow and deliberate.

"Accept it. You hurt others, many others. You can't undo that. You will never find grace for yourself, no matter how long you live. You will always have that burden inside you. Even killing yourself won't solve it. So fight; Fight for what's right. Fight for truth. Fight for justice, so that the good guys can win. If you don't fight for good, we all might lose. But don't fight for yourself, because your hatred won't let you fight hard enough. Fight for others. Fight for the people you love. Fight for people who just want to live in peace, and save them. Fight for strangers to see the sunrise. Fight because it's the right thing to do... That is the absolute least you can do."

Cinder slowly shook her head.

"The world never gave me a reason to care before," she whispered.

"Well, you've got a hell of a reason right there," Qrow stated flatly, gesturing to Jaune, "And millions of reasons out there," he pointed at the windows, blinds slid shut. "People you've never met, people who will never thank you... But people who deserve to live all the same. Because Jaune feels that way. He'd do that stupid stunt for anyone, never if he didn't know their name. So fight, Sparky. Fight on."

Cinder sucked in a breath. She slowly nodded. Qrow stood up, and stretched. He turned to the door.

"... Does... It ever get better?" She asked.

Qrow sighed softly. He pulled out his flask and sipped it.

"It does," he said, "It does... If you're strong enough."

Cinder slowly nodded.

"... Thank you," she whispered.

Qrow snorted.

"Don't thank me. I'm just doing a favor for my niece. You? You've got a hell of a lot worse to deal with."

Cinder turned and looked back at her boyfriend. She slowly nodded.

"You're right... I do."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Dust Studies came to an end with everyone making an acceptable mixture of Healing Dust. Jaune, his potential brides and his temporally displaced children turned in their work and shuffled out of class to find familiar faces waiting for them.

"Mom, Dad, Uncle Arjun, Aunt Saia," Jaune greeted all of them.

"Hello Son! We're here to help you get some quick training in before it's time for the dates!" Nick enthusiastically exclaimed.

"Alright," Jaune nodded his head in acceptance. "Are we reviewing what we did yesterday or are you showing me something new?"

"Neither, your mom's taking care of your training today!"

"Mom?" Jaune couldn't keep the surprise form his voice as he looked to his mother.

"Yesterday your father taught you something I should have let him teach you years ago," Isabel answered with some noticeable trepidation in her tone. "Today I'm going to teach you something I should have taught you years ago."

"And while the two of you are doing that I'll take those who're visiting and seeing where they're at," Nick surveyed the grandkids with a smile, making it clear he was referring to them. "Or at leas I'll be taking the ones who aren't invited to Arjun and Saia's special training."

"Special training?" May asked, curious as to what her parents had in mind.

"An express courier arrived shortly after breakfast," Arjun explained. "They brought several items from our family's private library that are of great interest to those of specific bloodlines. Ruby Rose, Julian, some of these items were brought here with the two of you in mind; would you be available to join May and August for this training?"

"Sure, we can join you," Ruby confirmed, her own curiosity piqued as she wondered what items he could have for her and her son specifically.

"Excellet," Arjun smiled.

"Well, that's everyone sorted," Nick observed. "The rest of you are free to do what you want. Maybe you can help Pyrrha with getting ready for her outing with Jaune! Put your heads together and come up with the best way to knock his socks off! Now! Everyone who's training with me form up! WE MARCH!"

- - -

Wth a nervous smile, Isabel guided Jaune away quickly down the hallway. All the way outside, across the campus. All the way to Training Yard 69.

The secluded Training Yard 69 lay on Beacon's far outskirts-half-hidden among crumbling ruins overtaken by pines, far enough from the main campus that even the wind felt quieter. Isabel sighed as she stood in the middle, standing with Jaune.

"I never liked this training yard, if I'm being honest," Isabel said, "I always felt too exposed out here."

Jaune nodded.

"Same. And these old statues," he frowned at some of the old Grimm-shaped ruins, worn by time and the weather, that leered at them, "I always felt like I was being watched."

"But, I do appreciate the solitude," Isabel admitted. They had stood some distance apart from the start, even guiding Jaune out here.

She studied him for a long moment. "How are you holding up?"

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Been… having dreams. Strange ones. Ever since this all started."

Isabel's posture shifted-medical mode kicking in. "What happens in these dreams?"

Jaune stared at the ground. "A lot of bad things. My kids… vanishing. The girls-the women… dying. Scenes from the past… maybe the future? I don't know." He swallowed. "The last one was a puppet show. Everything went wrong. We lost. I got up to see who the puppeteer was and…"

Isabel stepped closer. "And…?"

Jaune's voice dropped. "And… it was me. Older. With a beard, in rusted armor. Like I was the last survivor of mankind… or something." He shrugged. "Or the Rusted Knight. For all I knew..."

Isabel's face tightened-concern flashing raw across her features. He knew that look-She'd worn it around him almost constantly growing up.

Jaune held up both hands quickly. "Mom, I-I'm fine, really!"

She didn't smile. "We haven't done a full medical examination of you. Or your potential brides. Or your children. I really need to do that-who knows what might be happening to you?"

Jaune opened his mouth, then closed it. "Mom, I…"

"This isn't me trying to be controlling, Jaune." Her voice softened, but the steel underneath didn't waver. "If it's something you're concerned about… let me try to help. Huh?"

He exhaled slowly.

Well... I don't really have a reason to refuse. It might help with the investigation, too.

"All right. Tomorrow though, okay?"

Isabel scowled. "You're not dodging this."

Jaune shook his head quickly. "I mean-I did have to cut May's date short last night because of Theodore's little stunt."

Isabel's scowl deepened, but she relented. "Fine. I'll start tonight with anyone available. But you're undergoing an exam-period. Tomorrow, first thing. And you're keeping a dream journal from now on."

Jaune managed a tired smile. "Yeah. Okay Mom."

Isabel studied him again-longer this time. "…You're scared, aren't you? That's why you're not fighting me on this... Or running away."

Jaune looked away. "…I can't afford to do either of those things, Mom. I'm a dad, after all. Eleven times over."

Isabel chuckled-soft and fond. "I suppose so." She straightened. "Well. I promised I'd train you. So let's work on it."

She stepped back, gesturing to the open yard. "I've seen your fight with your father, of course. You've really improved. And he taught you the Aura Slash?"

Jaune nodded, drawing Crocea Mors. "Yeah!"

Isabel smiled. "Show me."

Jaune focused. Aura surged-golden light coiling around the blade. He swung down once; a crescent of pure energy tore through the air and sliced a marble pillar cleanly in half. He reversed the motion, swinging upward; another slash followed, blasting the top half apart in a shower of dust and stone.

Isabel clapped-genuine, proud. "That's very impressive! Getting that down in just one training session with Dad!"

Jaune grinned, breathing hard. "Thanks, Mom!"

Isabel's smile turned wry. "Though… your Aura control is still pretty rough. Your pacing is off, and the second slash was fairly sloppy…"

Jaune winced.

She coughed, then squeezed his shoulder gently. "But constant improvement is what Arcs do. All right. I can tell you're forcing it a little still. Close your eyes."

Jaune obeyed.

Isabel rested her hand on his arm. Her own Aura-warm, steady, golden like his-brushed against him.

"You can feel my Aura repelling yours, yes?"

"Yes…"

"Aura has a certain amount of resistance-against multiple things, including itself. So you need to prepare the path. You want to get used to letting your Aura flow through you almost constantly, at a low level. That way you don't have to ramp it up-it's already ready."

Jaune's brow furrowed. "Is that why you can trigger super strength so quickly?"

"Exactly. Most experienced Huntsmen can do this."

Jaune nodded slowly. "Yeah… I think that's what Ren and Pyrrha are doing. How fast they react."

Isabel smiled. "Yes. Some Hunters can just unleash their Aura almost instantly with only the minimum of training in controlling it, but even a split second can be the difference between life and death."

She stepped back. "Now, try to keep it low and steady. Like breathing. Don't force it."

Jaune concentrated. A faint golden shimmer coated his skin-steady, not flaring. He opened his eyes, surprised. "It… takes a lot of focus."

"It does," Isabel agreed. "And you're still using way too much. But it's worth it."

She moved into stance. "Training in hand-to-hand can help your inner focus. Let's start with the basics."

Jaune's eyes widened and he grinned.

"You mean-Papa Shirou's style?!"

Isabel grinned.

"With some additions by myself, yes," she said. "I'd say it's high time you learned it, yes?"

She demonstrated-foot placement first. Jaune copied, adjusting when she corrected him. Then punches-slow, deliberate. She flowed through a sequence; he mirrored her, getting smoother with each repetition.

Isabel gentle smile grew. "Now-focus more on these movements. Your hips are where you get your power. Surge your Aura with your strikes, but maintain the low level in between."

Jaune nodded, determination hardening his features.

"Yes, Mom!"

- - -

I decided to post this on my birthday, and I hope you enjoy it.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

- - -

Elphaba Memorial Garden was Arjun's choice for where he, May, Ruby, Julian, August and Saia went to for training. It was fairly natural, Ruby assumed: There were many isolated courtyards separated by hedges and ruins grown almost into a maze. It was also pretty quiet, especially compared to other gardens where people went for lunch.

Ruby had asked about the punishment, but Arjun said that could wait. This was more important.

Julian had smirked a little at that, before Ruby had reminded him his punishment was still going to happen. Which had focused her son very well. At least she thought so.

She was thankful Arjun and Saia had grabbed lunch for them before they'd set out, and they sat down in one of the courtyards to eat. Arjun and Saia relaxed on a picnic blanket on the ground and chatted with Julian and August in low tones. May sat next to Ruby on a stone bench near them, the sniper still smiling dreamily. Ruby found her envy rising again, and she hastily beat it down.

"So um... How did things go?" Ruby asked. "Last night? With Jaune?"

"O-Oh, um..." May tittered a bit. "V-Very... Very good!"

(Also Ruby totally didn't know why that word came to mind. Tittered. Total mystery).

"Like... How good?" Ruby insisted. May looked down at her sandwich then back up at Ruby.

"Oh, um... W-Well, we ate at a nice restaurant... We talked... We had a nice walk..." She frowned gently, "Someone tried to mug us."

Ruby snickered.

"Wait, seriously?"

May nodded.

"Poor guy didn't know he was dealing with Hunters. Most bandits in Vacuo aren't that dumb. If they aren't Aura unlocked, they don't even bother once they see we have Aura." May beamed. "Vale must be a really nice place if he's still alive!"

Ruby blinked and slowly nodded.

"That's... Not untrue," she said carefully. May beamed.

"But um... We did get to... To... K-Kiss," she managed softly. She shivered and giggled. Ruby held back her jealousy at the joy of the curvy sniper.

"Yeah?" She asked. May flushed.

"I um... Hm..." She frowned thoughtfully, applying the same concentration to this question she might to a sniper shot.

"It's... Hard to describe. Like... Like there was a spark. Electricity. But it was Aura and it... Bridged between us. And I just felt... Felt so warm and happy and..." She blushed. "And it was... Perfect."

Ruby was bright red. She slowly nodded.

"Yeah... It was the same for me and Jaune. When we kissed."

Not that she was bragging. Okay, maybe a little.

May flushed.

"Oh? Oh... So it's always like that?"

"I think so, yeah," Ruby nodded. Her insecurity raised its ugly head though, as she asked, "Do you... Think our date will be like that? Just as good?"

May beamed.

"I'm sure! You're his best friend, after all. I... I mean, despite everything... We aren't that close yet," she mumbled. "I-I mean, we're closer but... Not as close as... W-Well... Um..."

Ruby frowned.

"You... You have a lot going for you, you know," Ruby said gently. May sighed.

"Yes. I also know we can't afford to fight and be divided now. I do... I just... I can't help comparing myself to... To everyone else."

Ruby bit her lower lip. She then hugged May.

"I know," she whispered, "I don't think we can really help that. I mean... We can't help how we feel, right? But if it helps? I... I do want us all to get through this. We have to. For everyone. For the world. I mean... It's like we know there's a happy ending. For everyone. And we can't screw that up. It's more than just us, it's the whole world. And I know Jaune isn't going to care who is the most loving or best wife. Like us, he cares most about saving the world and doing the right thing!"

May nodded firmly.

"You're right," she murmured back. "We need to be willing to do anything we can do save humanity! And Faunuskind too..." May frowned. "Though, if we can have babies with Faunus, are we actually different species?"

Ruby blinked a few times. She hummed and rubbed her chin.

"You know, that's a good question. We'll have to ask Blake and Arslan! Also Isabel."

May frowned.

"Do... Do you think we can call her that now? Isn't that too informal?"

"I think we're informal enough, given we're married to her son and have kids with him," Ruby observed wryly. May flushed and nodded.

"Good point..."

"Ladies," Arjun said patiently, "I believe we are ready to begin."

Ruby and May got up and walked over, sitting next to Julian and August. Ruby raised an eyebrow at her son.

"What were you guys talking about, anyway?"

"Well, he asked me about how Hastinpur got attacked during the war," Julian said, "Um, in my timeline. Because well, that happened and was messy."

"Same in mine," August sighed, "Though the siege went better since Mom was there and in yours, she's... Uh..."

May, Julian and Ruby winced.

"Fortunately, that hasn't happened yet," Arjun said firmly, even while Saia continued to take notes on her Scroll, "But we can at least anticipate potential lines of attack by her and her forces before they happen."

Ruby nodded.

"That's good... I still wish Dad had told me about this. Any of this... Or that you had," she said quietly. Arjun nodded.

"I know. I do too," Arjun said quietly. "I had hoped to wait for when you activated your eyes. But it seems I chose not to do anything until there was a global crisis."

"Not that anyone could have predicted that," Saia said gently. Ruby pouted a bit, but nodded. Arjun looked over at May, and he smiled fondly.

"Nor that we could have found our lost daughter, either," he added. May blushed. Ruby gave her friend a smile. For all her jealousy, she was truly happy about all these reunions. All this clearing of the air. Even for August, since it showed that she had a future too.

"So, where to begin?" Arjun hummed. "Julian, you've taught Ruby how to activate the Silver Eyes at low level, to see?"

"Yes," Julian said with a nod.

"And May, you figured it out all by yourself," Arjun noted, "That's a great accomplishment."

May flushed.

"I-Yes, thank you."

"You taught me later on in my future," August said. Arjun nodded.

"Even so, let's focus on the basics from there," Arjun said, "It never hurts to review things from the beginning. You never know what you'll see. Like you're looking at the original material with new eyes."

May smiled softly, even as August and Julian softly groaned. Ruby winced, but considered that he probably loved being able to make Dad jokes again.

Just like my dad, she thought wryly.

Arjun's eyes gained a gentle glow. "Ruby, Julian, August, May? Close your eyes, and focus."

They did so, the world vanishing.

"Now... Focus your Aura," Arjun said, gently despite his rough voice, "Let the Aura flow through you, slow and gentle. Don't force it, just let it go."

The world opened up to her. Arjun and Saia reappeared against a background of faint green, black, and whites. She'd seen this before with Neo and Cinder in the infirmary, but that had been brief and unstable. Here, calm and focused, she could make out more details.

Arjun's Aura was a deep blue, purple and red in small parts. Saia's was a brilliant dark orange, burning bright but gentle. She turned to her right: May's form appeared, a lighter, more uncertain purple and blue. August's was similar, but crackling with even more power: Like a mostly placid sea. She looked over at her son, and almost opened her eyes in shock: His Aura was a golden red, powerful and simmering with excitement and impatience, a veritable storm of power.

Though... There were some unusual things around him and August. Energy that seemed to emit sigils and letters she couldn't recognize, like radiating a foreign alphabet. What were those?

"Good," Arjun interrupted, "You can perceive the world as it truly is. As my teacher once taught me, 'luminous beings are we, not this crude matter. The Aura is the energy of life. It surrounds us, and binds us. It connects us all. You can see the energy of the Aura in the life around us, from the plants to the animals. Even the earth itself has an energy to it. Reflections of the energy of life upon the world, like the moonlight from the sun."

Arjun ran his fingers over the blanket they sat on, and she saw traces of his Aura energy left behind as they slowly faded, a little absorbed by the blanket fibers and the grass and earth beneath it.

"Yes," Ruby whispered.

"When you look closely at a person, you know you can see their soul," Arjun continued, pointing to his chest. "This is the spark of life, and all sapient beings on Remnant have one from the moment we are conceived. When one is created, there is great joy. When it is extinguished, there is great sorrow. Yet we know this energy is not limited to this plane of existence. The Soul goes on even after going out. Where is the great mystery of life, and all religions have a different answer. Though that is not important today. What is important? Is being able to read the Soul."

Arjun's Aura changed... Shape? Luminosity? And she had the sense he was smiling. Though that could have just been because of how his voice changed.

"All that we were and are, is written in our Souls," Arjun stated, "And by learning to read these signs, you learn to read everyone. Your friends, your enemies, and everyone in between. It is a great power... A great responsibility. Are you ready to learn?"

"Yes, Uncle Arjun/Father/Grandpa!" Julian, Ruby, May and August chorused. Saia and Arjun's Auras both glowed strangely, and for a moment Ruby had an impression of a woman who looked like her, smiling. She wasn't sure how to handle that.

"Then let us begin," Arjun stated. "From the top."

- - -

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Airship on the way to Argus

Six months after Vytal

- - -

The airship liner to Argus hummed steadily through the night sky, engines a low, constant thrum beneath the deck. Most passengers were asleep in their cabins or dozing in the lounge seats. The observation deck, however, was empty save for two figures tucked into the shadowed corner near the rear windows.

Emerald Sustrai leaned against the railing, arms crossed, a sly little smile playing on her lips as she watched Jaune fumble with the practice wallet she'd clipped to her belt.

"Again," she said, voice low and teasing. "You're telegraphing every move. Your hand's shaking like you're trying to defuse a bomb."

Jaune's ears went pink. "I'm trying. This is harder than it looks."

"That's the point." She stepped closer. Close enough that her hip brushed his. "Thieves don't get second chances. Neither do you if you want to impress me."

He swallowed, eyes flicking down to the wallet, then back up to her face. She was smirking, but there was something softer in her gaze tonight. Something almost fond.

"Okay. One more time."

He reached: Slow, careful, trying to mimic the smooth motion she'd shown him earlier. His fingers grazed the edge of the wallet… and then slipped, brushing the curve of her hip instead.

Emerald didn't flinch. Didn't pull away.

Instead, she caught his wrist gently, guiding his hand back to the wallet.

"You're not trying to grab it," she murmured, breath warm against his ear. "You're trying to caress it. Like this."

She slid his fingers along the leather-slow, deliberate-until they closed around the edge. Her other hand came up to rest on his chest, right over his heartbeat.

Jaune's pulse jumped under her palm.

"See?" she whispered. "Light touch. No tension. Just… feeling it out."

His voice came out rough. "Emerald…"

She tilted her head, lips curving. "You're still shaking."

"I'm… distracted."

"Good." She leaned in until their foreheads nearly touched. "That's part of the challenge."

Jaune's free hand rose hesitantly until it settled at her waist. He didn't pull her closer. He didn't need to. She closed the last inch herself.

Their lips met/ Spft at first, testing. Then deeper. Hungrier.

The wallet slipped from between them and hit the deck with a soft thud.

Neither noticed.

Jaune's hand slid up her back, fingers tangling in her hair. Emerald made a small, pleased sound against his mouth, pressing herself closer until there was no space left between them. The kiss turned messy, teeth and tongue and quiet gasps swallowed by the hum of the engines.

When they finally parted, both breathing hard, Emerald rested her forehead against his, eyes half-lidded and amused.

"You're still terrible at pickpocketing," she whispered.

Jaune laughed. "Yeah. But I'm getting really good at this part."

She smirked, brushing her thumb along his jaw. "Practice makes perfect."

He kissed her again.

The wallet lay forgotten on the floor.

For a time, so was their mission, the danger they were pursuing.

But for now, they had eachother. And that was enough.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Airship Shyena
Haven, Mistral

- - -

Qrow sat in the co-pilot seat of the Shyena, looking through his Scroll with a frustrated expression on his face. Karna sat in the pilot's seat next to him, poring through his own Scroll. Additional paper copies of documents were scattered around the ship's cabin, Taiyang sitting on the floor with Rena Aurum sitting across from him.

"Is there a reason we're doing this in a cramped airship?" Rena asked, a bit annoyed.

"The Shyena's computer system is the only one powerful enough that we can trust to not be compromised by Lionheart around," Karna explained patiently, still scanning his screen intently. "Soifon and her team are still finding bugs and trap viruses in Haven's."

"I know, I know," Rena sighed, "Just wish you had more chairs."

"She's built for performance, not comfort," Qrow said. He scowled at Karna. "And why exactly are you in the pilot's seat?"

"Because my brother owns it, loves it, and we both know your record with aircraft," Karna deadpanned. Qrow snorted.

"Come on! I got her here in one piece, didn't I? And I'm nowhere near as bad as Nick."

"You're not as bad as the man who crashed a simulator-Twice," Karna smirked, "I'm just filled to the brim with confidence."

"I think you and your brother have an unhealthy attachment to flying machines that go really fast and can turn on a dime," Qrow said.

"And you just took a detour through Margana Canyon for... What, the scenic route?" Karna asked with a knowing look. Qrow scowled.

"Okay, I just have a healthy appreciation for kickass flying machines that go really fast and turn on a dime!"

Rena sighed and shook her head. She looked back over at Taiyang.

"Do they always act like children?" She asked. Taiyang was unresponsive, his eyes lowered. Rena frowned.

"Mister Xiao-Long?"

A snore was her answer. Rena scowled and reached out to shake his shoulder.

"Mister Xiao-Long!"

"Huh? Wha? Oh, sorry," Taiyang apologized. "I was meditating so deeply I guess I dozed off."

Rena's scowl softened at his apologetic look.

"I suppose it is a bit daunting," she admitted, "Trying to find him. Find them. Where they went and..." She sighed. "It's... Hard to take in. All of this. Fate of the world, a Dark Queen..."

Taiyang smiled gently.

"It was difficult for me too, at the start," he said, leaning forward with a compassionate look, "My friends helped me get through it. We were in it together. All focused on saving the world..." He trailed off. Rena winced.

"... Who did you lose?" She asked quietly. Taiyang smiled wanly.

"My wives," he said simply. Rena's eyes bulged.

"I-Both-?!"

"One... Died to Salem," Taiyang said, "The other... She ran off after our daughter was born. Went back to being a bandit. She showed up with us to fight Salem, because we thought we had a plan to finally take her down... After we failed..."

Rena worried her lower lip. She reached out to squeeze his hand.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Taiyang slowly nodded.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Sorry, didn't mean to dump all that on you. I suppose I'm... I'm trying to masterthe pain to use it, and not let it use me."

Rena nodded slowly.

"Your Semblance? I've studied it. Very powerful, but-"

"After a while, I plateaued?" Taiyang asked, maybe a tad defensively. Rena winced, and he shook his head. She sucked in a breath.

"Yes," she said. Taiyang snorted.

"You're not wrong," he admitted. "I guess... I gave up. I didn't think there was any point, after... Failing like that."

Rena squeezed his hand again.

"I will admit... I've been tempted to just... Dump all this into someone else's lap. Hell... I feel like running away and hiding after all this," she muttered. Taiyang smiled softly.

"But there are too many people counting on both of us," he said quietly. Rena worked her jaw, and nodded.

"Yeah," she whispered, "The whole world."

"Feels impossible, huh?" Taiyang asked. Rena nodded.

"Completely."

"Well... I know for a fact we beat her," Taiyang said quietly, his eyes gently, "I know for a fact we win. And that helps a lot."

"How do you know?" Rena asked curiously. "What, did you find some psychic who can see the future telling you?"

"It's... More complicated than that," Taiyang admitted.

"How much more complicated could it be?"

Taiyang slowly looked up at her with the most serious face she could imagine. It was like he had turned into a character out of a comic with the deep shadows over his handsome features. She winced.

"Maybe... Maybe I'll just take it a bit at a time?" She offered.

"Probably for the best," he admitted. He frowned a bit as he looked through his Scroll. "That's weird... These coordinates keep popping up in his requisition records."

"Hm? Let me see," Rena scooted over to the other side of the cabin, and looked over his shoulder. She frowned and tapped the coordinates into her own Scroll.

"That is weird," she admitted, "They pop up here, too, under 'Magistrate Office of Xiào Kuáng Juàn, Kuroyuri.'"

Taiyang's eyes widened.

"What are these records for?" Taiyang asked. Rena hummed thoughtfully.

"Well, these records are usually for supply drops to teams in the field," she explained, "That's how they're registered in the accounts. A local official will often hold onto them for Hunter teams that come by to do training missions. Why is that weird though? There are hundreds of such supply requests."

"Because last I heard," Taiyang said, looking up at Qrow, "Kuroyuri had been abandoned for almost 20 years, isn't that right?"

Qrow nodded.

"Yeah. Any survivors went to the Valley of Serenity nearby to resettle after the South Mistral Grimm Surges."

"That is odd, but the village is still there," Rena said, "And a lot of abandoned villages do serve as bases for training. So why the interest?"

"Because Xiào Kuáng Juàn is the name of a fictional character in a show we watched at Beacon," Taiyang said gravely, "Lightning Strike Fantasy."

Rena blinked.

"Wait... You mean that old puppet show with anime effects?"

"Summer loved it," Qrow added. Karna raised an eyebrow and looked very thoughtful.

"I recall Arjun despairing about it only lasting four seasons," he said, "I liked the puppetry and story but the production was..." He frowned. "It would be an ideal bolthole to hide if his cover was blown."

"But nobody goes there because of the dangerous Grimm around..." Rena's eyes widened. Qrow and Taiyang nodded.

"I think we have a lead," Qrow said.

Taiyang helped Rena up to her feet.

"Tell Soifon and Omaeda we're headed for Kuroyuri," he said, "Karna will coordinate with the Pandavans. We have to keep this quiet though, we don't know how many of Lionheart's goons are in Mistral's intelligence services. But see if you can find people you can personally trust to go after us."

Rena nodded firmly.

"Right... Right..." She looked him in the eyes.

"My father once told me... That God never put more weight on our shoulders than we can handle. But if we don't bend, we will break," she said, "I... I am trying to remember that here... But I hope you do, too."

Taiyang smiled softly.

"I will. Thank you."

Rena, flushed, stood up on tiptoes and kissed the side of his mouth. Her face went bright red as he gaped. She turned and fled, her fox ears twitching.

"Good luck!" She called out, as the hatch of the Shyena closed behind her. He turned back to Karna and Qrow, who, while still preparing the ship for launch... Were both smirking.

"Shut up," he muttered as he went to sit on a bench.

"We didn't say anything," Karna said smoothly.

"Yet," Qrow grumbled, as the Shyena took off into the sky at high speed.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian, Gallia, Vale

Eight Years After Salem's Defeat

- - -

The Arc farmhouse was quiet in the late afternoon—golden light slanting through the windows, the twins Ozma and Mombi finally asleep in their shared crib after a long morning of teething fusses. Glynda Goodwitch-Arc sat at the kitchen table that doubled as her home office, scroll open to a stack of Hunter Association reports she was trying to finish before she got dinner started.

Then the music started.

Not soft music. Not background music.

Loud, crunchy, electric-guitar-driven rock music—blasting from the garage like someone had opened a portal to the bad cover dimension.

Glynda's pen froze mid-signature.

She sighed deeply, then stood. With a flick of her riding crop, she levitated the crib (twins still blissfully asleep) and floated it behind her like a truck towing a precious cargo load.

She pushed open the side door to the garage.

The scene that greeted her was exactly what she feared.

Jaune—hair mussed, sleeves rolled up, old T-shirt stretched across his shoulders—stood at the microphone, belting lyrics with surprising competence. Sun Wukong shredded on lead guitar, tail whipping in time. Neptune Vasilias slapped bass with cocky flair. Lie Ren—stoic Ren—sat behind the drum kit, expression neutral but sticks moving with surgical precision.

And in the middle of it all, three-year-old Dorothy Arc danced like she was born for the spotlight—spinning, jumping, arms flung wide, giggling every time the chorus hit.

Glynda cleared her throat. Loudly.

"Jaune! JAUNE!"

The music screeched to a halt. The twins—rudely awakened by the sudden silence—immediately started wailing.

Jaune spun, eyes wide. "Sorry, Glynda!"

Glynda floated the crib closer, scooping both babies into her arms. She rocked them gently, murmuring soothing nonsense while glaring daggers at her husband.

"What. Is. All. This?"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. "Well… we all realized we never started a garage band when we were teenagers."

Neptune leaned on his bass, grinning. "And since we're all in town with our wives for that Hunter Association meeting…"

Sun posed dramatically, still shirtless (And Glynda suspected just the way his wife liked it).

"We thought we'd give it a try!"

Ren, deadpan as ever behind the kit: "Indeed."

Glynda stared at them—one by one—then at the amp stack, the tangled cables, the half-eaten pizza on the workbench.

She sighed. Long. Deep. The sigh of a woman who had once stared down Grimm hordes and now stared down her middle-aged husband and far too old men playing dress-up rockstar.

"Couldn't you just buy a sports car like any other man in a mid-life crisis?"

Jaune laughed—bright, unrepentant. "Ha! Way too late for that, sweetie."

Glynda's glare softened—just a fraction—into something fond despite herself.

She shifted the twins to one arm, pointing at Jaune with her free hand. "No groupies."

Jaune stepped forward, kissed her cheek—then the top of each twin's head. "The only groupie I want is my wife."

Glynda's cheeks pinked. Dorothy—still bouncing to the silent rhythm in her head—made an exaggerated gagging noise.

"Ewwww, kissing!"

Sun grinned down at her. "You might not mind so much when you get older, kiddo."

Dorothy crossed her arms, chin high. "I'll never like boys. I like girls!"

The garage went dead silent.

Glynda and Jaune stared at their daughter in matching wide-eyed horror.

Neptune and Sun lost it—doubling over, howling with laughter.

Ren—still behind the drums—allowed himself the tiniest smirk.

Glynda recovered first, voice strangled. "Dorothy Arc-Goodwitch, we will discuss this later. Much later. When you're thirty."

"Nuh uh!"

"Yes huh," Jaune and Glynda said sternly.

"Bet that will be a laugh," Neptune chuckled.

"I'm telling Tangy," Jaune said flatly. Neptune went pale.

"I didn't say anything! I swear!" He gasped.

"Whipped," Sun coughed. Neptune glared at him.

"Like you can talk!"

"Like any of us can talk," Ren pointed out.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Hastinpur Palace, Pandu

Seven years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The late-afternoon sun painted the marble corridors of the east wing in soft gold. Maia Sarkara-Arc, queen of Pandu and very pregnant with her second child, pressed her back to a carved pillar and listened.

The guards' boots echoed past the junction-right on schedule. She waited three more heartbeats, then darted down the narrow service stair that only the royal family still remembered existed. Her dress hem whispered against the stone; one hand cradled the gentle swell of her belly.

"Easy, little one," she murmured, smiling despite the ache in her lower back. "Mama just needs five minutes without someone asking if I've eaten, drunk water, or taken my vitamins in the last thirty seconds."

The hidden balcony was exactly where she remembered: tucked behind a false wall in the old observatory tower, overlooking the royal gardens but invisible from every patrol route. She sank onto the stone bench with a grateful sigh, kicked off her sandals, and let her bare feet rest on cool marble. The scent of night-blooming jasmine drifted up from below. For the first time all day she could breathe.

She had maybe four minutes of peace before a familiar pair of arms slid around her from behind.

"Found you," Jaune whispered against her ear, voice warm with laughter.

May startled, then melted back against his chest with a mock-scowl. "You're supposed to be drilling the new recruits on the western ramparts."

"I was," he said, settling beside her and immediately pulling her feet into his lap so he could rub the arches. "Then I noticed the east-wing patrol had an extra man on it-because someone had 'borrowed' a uniform jacket and left it in the laundry chute again." He tapped the tiny crest embroidered on her sleeve. "You're getting sloppy, Your Highness."

"I am not," she protested, cheeks pink. "I just… needed a minute. The baby's been dancing on my bladder since breakfast, and every advisor in the kingdom wants to talk about trade negotiations or the new irrigation system or-ugh." She waved a hand. "I love being home. I love being queen. But sometimes I miss the days when I could just disappear up a tree with my rifle and a book."

Jaune's thumbs worked a knot out of her instep; she practically purred.

"I know," he said softly. "That's why I keep the old service routes clear. And why I always check the observatory first." His blue eyes-still the same earnest farm-boy blue even after years of royal life-crinkled at the corners. "You're allowed to hide, Maia. You just can't hide from me. Captain's orders."

May laughed, the sound bright and fond. "Captain, husband, consort, and royal pain in my very pregnant backside." She reached up to trace the faint scar along his jaw-the one he'd earned the day he saved her from a Salem Cultist Assassin. "You're lucky I love you."

"Extremely lucky," he agreed, leaning in until their foreheads touched. "And you're lucky I love you enough to let you think you're still sneaky."

The baby chose that moment to give a particularly vigorous kick. May winced; Jaune's hand moved instantly to her belly, palm warm and steady.

"Hey, easy on your mother, little one," he murmured. "She's already done enough running for both of you today."

May covered his hand with hers. "She's going to be just like me, you know. Sneaking out of the nursery and-and all.."

Jaune grinned. "Then I'll just have to make sure her father knows every secret passage in the kingdom. Family tradition."

For a long minute they sat in the quiet gold light, jasmine-scented breeze stirring May's hair, Jaune's fingers still gently massaging her feet. The palace below them-her home, their home-hummed with life: distant laughter of courtiers, the clang of training swords, the soft bells of the evening temple service.

May turned her face into his shoulder. "Thank you for always finding me."

"Always," he promised, kissing the top of her head. "Even when you're eight months pregnant and trying to out-stealth the entire royal guard. Especially then."

She smiled against his shirt. "Good. Because I have a feeling this one's going to be even worse than I was. August is already able to use Aura Vision-His little sister will be even worse!"

Jaune chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Then we'll just have to be twice as good at hide-and-seek."

Below them, the sun dipped lower, painting Hastinpur in the deep rose and saffron of a Pandu sunset. And in their hidden corner of the palace, the captain of the guard and his very sneaky queen sat together-feet up, hands linked over the new life growing between them-perfectly content to let the world spin on without them for just a little while longer.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Theodore appeared at the edge of Training Yard 69 with his usual casual swagger, but it was easy even for Jaune to tell he was tense as he walked up. Jaune and Isabel continued their current kata, Jaune working very hard to keep up with his mother's movements.

"Punch, punch, kick-Good! Much better this time!" Isabel complimented him. Jaune flushed.

"Thanks Mom."

"Watch your Aura surges though," Isabel said, "You need to find a good balance-Hold too hard, and you'll burn too much. Hold too loosely, and you won't use enough."

Jaune nodded.

Theodore stopped about three meters away, cleared his throat twice-once too many-and lifted a hand in what he clearly hoped looked like an effortless wave.

"Hey, uh… Grandma. Doctor Arc. Whatever feels less weird." He winced the second the words left his mouth. "Hi."

Isabel paused mid-step, arms still loose from demonstrating the next sequence to Jaune. She turned fully toward him, head cocked, studying the way he kept shifting his weight like the ground might open up and swallow him.

"You've been orbiting us like a nervous moon for a while now, Theodore. Something on your mind?"

Theodore winced.

"Right. Forgot you can enhance your senses."

"I never did," Jaune admitted wryly. Isabel huffed.

"Just made you better at getting into mischief," she grunted, though without any heat.

Theodore rubbed the back of his neck-identical to the gesture Jaune had used earlier-and let out a long, slow breath.

"Yeah. Okay. Cards on the table." He met her eyes. "You're dead in my timeline. Died… before I was even born. I never got to meet you. Never heard your voice, never saw you fight, or… Anything." He gave a small, helpless shrug. "Seeing you here, alive, moving, hitting like that? It's… it's a lot. It's weird."

Isabel held his gaze for several long seconds. Then her shoulders eased, just a fraction.

"I understand," she said quietly.

Theodore blinked. "You… do?"

"I've spent the last forty-eight hours trying very hard not to stare at you, or Julian, or Xia, or any of the others, because every time I look too long I see pieces of Jaune… and pieces of women who, right now, are either strangers or enemies to me." She offered a small, tired smile. "I look at you and I see my son and not my son. So yes. Weird is the polite word for it."

Silence settled between them-soft, shared, strangely comforting.

Jaune cleared his throat.

"You know… this is starting to feel a little like that one episode of Space Quest: Venture."

Theodore groaned instantly, head dropping back.

"Oh Breaker, Dad, don't-"

"The prequel series!" Jaune pressed on, already grinning. "Season 2, Episode 9. The crew of the Starship Venture stumbles into a future version of their own ship-except it's full of their descendants. Everyone's trying to act normal while secretly losing their minds because half of them are looking at alternate grandkids and the other half are looking at people who technically don't exist yet-"

Isabel snorted despite herself.

"That episode has a multitude of issues, Jaune."

"Right?" Theodore jumped in immediately. "The timeline logic collapses in the first five minutes. And don't even get me started on the captain's 'I'm my own grandpa' speech. They spent twenty seconds trying to make it emotional and the rest of the runtime trying to let them still exist but obviously it wasn't going to work! And stupid ship teasing that went nowhere, too!"

Jaune raised both hands, defensive and laughing.

"Okay, okay, it wasn't perfect. But it wasn't all terrible. And besides-the new Space Quest reboot movies aren't that bad, right? They've got an actual budget now. Real actors. And they could make more shows after we save the world. How do you screw that up?"

Theodore gave him a long, pitying look.

"…It gets worse."

Jaune's face fell like a dropped brick.

"How could it possibly get worse?"

"I don't know, but somehow they did. They made Spaceforce Academy as a show."

"Based on the comics or novels?" Jaune asked, looking hopeful. Theodore shook his head slowly.

"They … it's bad, Dad. Like bad bad. They retcon half the universe, bring back the Overmind as a misunderstood ecology activist, and the finale ends with everyone singing a musical number about forgiveness while riding space whales. And don't get me started on the Alpha Omega 13 Mines surrounding the entire Confederation placed by space pirates in five minutes!"

"Wha…?"

Isabel stared between them, fond exasperation written across her face.

"…You two watched this together?"

"Every Saturday night," Theodore confirmed, "for years. Apparently just like you two did."

Jaune flushed. Isabel shook her head, a little smile on her face.

"All right. Enough terrible television nostalgia." She turned fully toward Theodore, tone shifting back to instructor. "Show me your Semblance again. Then I want to see how you fight when someone gets inside your comfort zone."

Theodore straightened, rolling his shoulders once.

He exhaled-slow, centering.

One hand lifted. Fingers snapped. His Blue and Red Glyphs appeared, fused into Purple, and he sent it right at his target.

Twenty meters away, a marble pillar simply… ceased. No dust. No fragments. Just clean, surgical absence, only the rushing wind from the sudden space a sign of the attack.

Isabel whistled low.

"Very impressive."

Then she moved.

One heartbeat she was standing still. The next she was inside his guard, fist already whipping toward his solar plexus.

Theodore teleported-barely-reappearing three meters left. The ground where he'd stood exploded into rubble.

"Holy-!"

Isabel didn't pause. Jab, cross, low kick, feint high. Theodore parried, deflected, parried again-each block rattling his bones. Even with his reinforced Aura he could feel the sheer weight behind every strike.

She leaped-sudden, vertical, axe-kick coming down like judgment.

Theodore blinked out again. Reappeared behind her.

Isabel spun, already expecting it. She kicked a fist-sized chunk of broken marble into the air, snapped her heel against it, and sent it screaming toward his face.

Theodore teleported a third time-higher, almost to the treeline.

When he reappeared, Jaune was already there-silent, patient, Crocea Mors's tip resting feather-light against Theodore's throat.

"Boom," Jaune said softly. "You're dead."

Theodore froze. Then let out a long, slow breath.

"…Yeah. This is why I stay at range."

Isabel lowered her fists. Nodded once.

"Good instincts. Good reaction speed. You adapt quickly when the situation changes." Her tone sharpened-teacher to general. "But you cannot afford to develop tunnel vision around your Semblance. Most Arcs are tough. Most Arcs have deep Aura reserves. That does not make us invincible. No matter how exotic or powerful the gift is."

Theodore swallowed. Ducked his head slightly.

"…Yeah. I… I got complacent."

Isabel's expression softened.

"You're still young. And you've clearly been trained well." She glanced at Jaune-warm, proud, just a little teasing. "I can see that."

"Yeah," Theodore agreed, looking proudly at Jaune, "I was."

Jaune flushed bright red and suddenly found the shattered pillar fascinating.

Theodore caught the look anyway. A tiny, crooked smile tugged at his mouth.

Then-

Crisp footsteps. Military cadence.

Winter appeared at the edge of the ruined yard-uniform pristine, expression caught somewhere between professional and flustered the instant she saw Jaune: Shirt-sweaty and flushed.

"Oh! Jaune. Penny. Doctor Arc. Theodore."

Penny popped up from where she'd been quietly observing.

"Salutations, Major Schnee! Is there an issue?"

Winter cleared her throat.

"I… merely wished to inform you that your standing orders remain unchanged, Penny." A pause. She glanced sideways at Jaune, color rising. "Though if you could perhaps… reduce the frequency of texting my little brother? It's proving… distracting."

Penny's cheeks went cherry-red. Hands flew up.

"Oh! But-! I was not texting him! For I have no Scroll upon my person and I am a perfectly normal girl!"

A tiny hic escaped her.

Theodore snorted.

"Some things never change."

Isabel sighed-long-suffering, fond.

"You know, Winter…" She stepped forward, tone casual but deliberate. "It wouldn't hurt for you to learn the Arc family style as well. You are going to be part of the family someday, after all."

Winter froze. Then-slowly-her shoulders relaxed. A small, genuine smile broke through.

"…Thank you, Doctor Arc."

Isabel returned the smile.

Then glanced at the crater, the missing pillars, the sweating boys, the blushing gynoid, and the Schnee trying very hard not to stare.

She cracked her knuckles.

"Right. Everyone take five. Then we're running through katas together-You too, Penny!"

Four voices answered at once:

"YES MA'AM."

"Understood."

"Uh-sure!"

"Affirmative!"

- - -

The empty classroom smelled faintly of old wood polish, the kind of quiet that settled into your bones if you let it. Afternoon light slanted through the tall windows in long golden bars, catching motes of dust that drifted like lazy fireflies. Pyrrha stood in the center of the cleared space between desks, hands clasped in front of her, shoulders squared the way she always did when she was nervous and trying not to show it. Across from her, Athena paced a slow half-circle, one finger tapping thoughtfully against her lips.

Orestes lounged against the teacher's desk near the door, butterfly knife flicking open and closed in a lazy, practiced rhythm. The soft metallic snick-snick was the only sound besides Athena's footsteps.

"All right," Athena said, stopping in front of Pyrrha with an encouraging smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Let's run the scenario again. Jaune's carrying two sodas-one for each of you. He trips-because of course he does, the boy has the grace of a newborn foal-and splash. Soda all down the front of your shirt. What do you do?"

Pyrrha's cheeks were already turning the faintest pink.

"I… say it's fine. Laugh it off. Offer to go change."

Athena made a small, impatient noise in the back of her throat.

"No, darling. You pull the fabric taut. Like this-" She demonstrated on her own blouse, fingers catching the hem and drawing it forward so the damp cotton would cling in a very deliberate way. "Gives him something to look at while you're both laughing about it. A little eye candy never hurt anyone."

Pyrrha's face went from pink to full crimson in under two seconds.

"Mother!"

Athena blinked, startled by the volume.

"What? It's a classic! I did a few… early films where I had to show myself off a bit. Wet-shirt scenes were practically required in those days. Very tasteful, mind you-"

"That is not helping!" Pyrrha squeaked, hands flying up to cover her burning cheeks.

Athena flushed in turn, the tips of her ears going scarlet. She let the hem of her blouse drop and rubbed the back of her neck.

"…Right. Sorry. I just… I thought maybe it would… I don't know. Give you options?" She sighed. "It isn't that great an idea. I'm grasping here."

From the doorway, Orestes spoke without looking up from his knife.

"Doesn't help at all. But it is good you kept her from doing anything like that."

Athena glanced over at him, shoulders easing a fraction.

"I was very firm on that point," she said quietly. "I wasn't... I wasn't going to let you be exploited like... Like I was."

Pyrrha lowered her hands slowly. Her voice was small.

"…I know. And I'm grateful. Really. Even if I'm feeling… tense right now."

Athena's gaze softened. She stepped closer, hesitated, then reached out to brush a stray lock of red hair behind Pyrrha's ear.

"I can see that." Another small cough. "I'm trying, sweetheart. I'm sorry I'm not very good at this mother-daughter… flirting-advice thing."

Pyrrha looked down at her boots for a long moment. Then, very slowly:

"I'm not very good at it either."

Orestes glanced up at that. The knife paused mid-flip. A small, genuine smile curved his mouth-the rare one that actually reached his eyes. Pyrrha caught it, and the tension in her shoulders loosened just enough for her to smile back.

The door banged open.

"PYRRHA!" Nora burst in like a grenade in a cute tanktop, arms already windmilling. "Guess what! Ren and I are going on a date tonight! Like, an actual date-date! And I was thinking-why don't you bring Jaune? We could make it a whole JNPR thing! Team bonding! Romance! Pancakes if we end up at the diner again!"

Ren appeared in the doorway a second later, looking faintly apologetic but mostly resigned.

"I told her it might be overwhelming," he said, "but she insisted. I… don't actually know what I'm doing on a date either." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe if we're all together, it'll be easier?"

Pyrrha's whole face lit up-bright, unguarded, the tension melting away like snow in sunlight.

"I'd love that," she said immediately.

Athena clapped her hands together once, delighted.

"Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant! I should have thought of that myself!" She beamed. "I went on a famous double-well, technically triple-date once. Cable Glark, Frank Righnatra, and Dolly Dolbert. It Happened That Night! Classic romantic comedy. No one knew who was supposed to end up with whom by the end credits."

Nora's eyes went wide.

"Wait-was that the one that ended in lots of explosions, or the one with the giant robot that sucked all the air off a planet?"

Athena blinked.

"…Neither. Those were entirely different movies. It Happened That Night had no explosions. Just a misunderstanding about a stolen necklace, a midnight picnic, and a very awkward proposal in the rain."

Nora's face fell.

"Oh. Then I'd just prefer to watch the ones with explosions."

Athena's smile twitched, irritation flickering behind her eyes for half a second before Pyrrha touched her arm gently.

"She's an orphan, Mother," Pyrrha murmured.

Athena exhaled, shoulders dropping.

"…Of course. I'm sorry, Nora. That was thoughtless." She beamed. "I'm so glad you're a good friend of Pyrrha's though."

Nora waved it off with both hands, already bouncing again.

"It's fine! All good! But it's time to go! Pyrrha, c'mon, we've gotta raid your closet! You're wearing something that makes Jaune's jaw drop!"

Before Pyrrha could protest, Nora had her by the wrist and was towing her toward the door. Ren gave Athena and Orestes a small, helpless nod-"I'll make sure she eats something besides sugar"-and followed.

The door swung shut.

Silence returned, softer this time.

Athena stared after them, arms slowly folding across her chest.

"…I wonder if I'll ever actually be a help to her," she said quietly, "or if I'm just going to keep being a hindrance."

Orestes closed the butterfly knife with a final snick and pushed off the desk.

"You can't fix everything in one day, ma'am. Be patient with yourself."

Athena let out a long breath.

"You're right. Of course you're right." A pause. Then, brighter: "But I could still-"

"No," Orestes said calmly.

Athena pouted-full lower lip, dramatic sigh, the works.

"Just a little spying? From a distance? I'd be discreet!"

"No."

She huffed, crossing her arms tighter.

"You're no fun."

Orestes only smiled-small, fond, unshakable.

"Someone has to keep you from turning into a tabloid headline before the appetizers even arrive."

Athena rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward despite herself.

"…Fine. But if anything goes wrong-"

"You don't want to be involved in it," he said. "Besides, we need to work on the promotional videos, yes?"

"I suppose," Athena pouted, "But can we at least get a snapshot of them before they leave?"

"Yes."

"With a full film crew-!"

"No."

"Right! Just one cameraman!"

"No."

"You'd be the cameraman!"

"... Okay."

"Good!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

As they entered the hanger, Blake's heart hammered so loudly she was sure the soldiers outside could hear it over the distant rumble of Chimera tanks and the whine of Tigertail engines.

Ghira and Kali stepped out into view, regal and composed. Ghira turned back and offered Blake his hand.

"Stay behind the Tigertail for now," he said gently. "Let us open the conversation. You'll know when it's time."

Blake nodded, throat tight. She slipped behind the sleek, bulky fuselage of the Wayland AV-47 Tigertail airship, pressing her back to the cool metal. The aircraft's shadow felt like the only shelter she had left.

She could hear the shuffle of boots, the low murmur of prisoners, the crisp orders of VDF troopers in green battle dress. Medics moved among the captured White Fang members, checking bandages and offering water. No one was being mistreated. That only made the guilt twist harder in her stomach.

All of this... If only I'd... If I'd just-!

Footsteps-light, familiar-suddenly appeared right behind her.

"Mom?"

Blake jumped, ears shooting straight up, a startled "Mrrp!" escaping before she could stop it. She spun, glaring at the two blond cat Faunus now standing there with identical sheepish grins.

"Leander! Leandra! What are you two doing here? You're supposed to be with the others!"

Leandra rubbed the back of her head. "Sorry… We wanted to be with you for this. We know it wasn't easy the first time around."

Leander nodded solemnly. "We helped get all these people captured. The least we can do is see it through with you."

Blake exhaled shakily, pressing a hand to her chest to slow her racing pulse.

"Where did you two learn that kind of... Of irresponsible responsibility?"

The twins smiled in perfect unison.

"From you and Dad," they said together.

Blake's face flushed hot. She opened her mouth, closed it, then managed a weak laugh that sounded more like a sob.

"…Of course you did."

A moment later, Ghira's voice boomed across the hangar, calm but carrying the full weight of a chieftain.

"Listen to me! All eyes here!"

The captured White Fang members fell into stunned silence as the Belladonna rulers approached. Then the whispers started.

A tall tiger Faunus-Tora Nyan, Blake recalled-pushed to his feet, chains rattling.

"Chieftain Ghira! Why are you here? Have you come to surrender us to these human filth? Have you betrayed your own kind?!"

Angry shouts erupted as more White Fang rose to hurl anger and abuse at Blake's father. Soldiers shifted, rifles ready, but Ghira raised one massive hand.

"QUIET!"

The roar cut through the hangar like thunder. The noise died instantly.

Ghira's golden eyes locked onto Tora.

"You have betrayed Menagerie. You have betrayed Faunuskind. And you have betrayed all of Remnant."

More furious cries. A slender deer Faunus-Tawny Doe, Deery's twin sister-shot up beside Tora.

"Explain yourself, Chieftain! You founded the White Fang! You taught us to fight humanity!"

Ghira's voice remained steady, heavy with sorrow.

"You learned the wrong lessons."

Kali stepped forward, raising a small holoprojector. The device hummed to life. An old black-and-white photograph appeared: the original founders of the White Fang standing proudly in front of a modest schoolhouse in Mistral.

Kali's tone was soft but clear.

"You all know this picture. But look closer."

She flicked to the second image. The same photo... except most of the people standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the Faunus founders were human.

Confused muttering rippled through the prisoners. Tawny's eyes widened in disbelief.

"That's a fake!"

"It is real," Ghira said. "Of the original forty members, twenty-five were human. Humans who risked everything: marched with us, funded us, defended us in court, and protected our people. They were our allies and friends because they believed oppressing Faunus was wrong."

Kali continued, voice steady.

"But the calls for violence grew louder. Even after Ghira was elected leader of Menagerie. Even after we won legal recognition—Vale was the first kingdom to acknowledge us as a sovereign nation. Sienna was charismatic. I had hoped her fire would keep the pressure on peacefully. Instead…"

Ghira's expression darkened.

"She turned it into a war. And humans who once stood with us began to fear and hate us instead of seeing us as equals."

Tawny shouted, "Then why haven't you done anything about it now?!"

"Because," Ghira answered, "you were days away from launching an attack that would have murdered tens of thousands-Faunus and humans alike. And second…" He glanced back toward the Tigertail. "Because Blake was Sienna and Adam's hostage."

Kali played a short recorded call. Adam and Sienna appeared on the holo, both staring intently at the camera.

Adam's voice was smooth, possessive: "Father Ghira… Blake does well. I look forward to becoming your son-in-law and advising her when she assumes the role of Chieftain."

Sienna's smile was cold. "Rest assured, she's in good health… and will stay that way, until we achieve our ends and she rightfully assumes power. So allow us our way."

Several White Fang members cried out that it was fake. Tawny looked physically ill.

Blake stared at the image, chest tight. She had known, of course-her parents had told her-but seeing Adam speak so casually about using her…

Familiar hands slipped into hers from behind. Leander and Leandra pressed close, hugging her tightly. Their warmth, their steady presence, pushed back the old urge to run.

Blake drew in a shaky breath. Then another.

She stepped out from behind the Tigertail.

The twins stayed right beside her, matching her pace.

Gasps and whispers exploded across the hangar as the prisoners recognized her.

Blake stopped beside her parents. Kali gave her a quick, concerned glance. Blake shook her head once, small but determined, and faced the crowd.

Tawny's voice cracked with disbelief.

"Lady Blake! You… you can't be serious! You betrayed us too?!"

Blake's ears flicked. She forced her voice steady.

"It's true. I did run. I couldn't stomach the violence anymore. The lies. The cruelty. We brutalized our own kind. We hurt and killed innocent humans. None of it helped Faunuskind. Not even a little."

Tora snarled, "They oppressed us! Enslaved us-!"

"And we did the same to them in the distant past!" Blake shot back. "And they did it to other humans! And we did it to other Faunus!" She took a deep breath, heart still hammering. "I was young and foolish. All I could see was black and white. But I've learned… we were all lied to. The world isn't perfect. But killing people, committing terrorism, unleashing Grimm on innocents? None of that helps us. Or humanity."

Tora's lips curled in disgust.

"Says the girl who's a whore for a human!"

Ghira and Kali both moved, hands twitching toward concealed weapons. Blake stepped forward before they could, locking eyes with Tora.

"Jaune Arc is my fiancé," she said, voice clear and surprisingly steady. "And… I love him very much. The situation is complicated, but I know he loves me too. This is the real answer: make love, not war!"

A stunned silence fell. A few VDF soldiers cleared their throats awkwardly. Tora, Tawny, and the rest stared at her in open disbelief.

Tora finally found his voice.

"Do… do you mean—?"

Blake's face burned crimson, but she doubled down, ears flat with determination.

"I mean exactly what I said! Hatred and anger only draw the Grimm! Love is what will save us! Love between humans and Faunus! And for that love, I will never run away again. I will fight for a wonderful future! I-I'm already planning on having twenty children with him!"

Dead silence.

Then Tawny-eyes wide, voice cracking with sheer bewilderment-blurted:

"What, does he have a giant penis or something?"

Blake turned scarlet. Ghira and Kali struggled mightily to keep straight faces. Behind her, Leander and Leandra looked openly haunted-they had far too many memories about how… enthusiastic their future parents could be.

Blake swallowed once, then lifted her chin and declared with every scrap of Belladonna dignity she could muster:

"YES! But that's beside the point!"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian Cathedral, Gallia, Vale

Five years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The dressing room smelled like lilies, hairspray, and barely-contained panic.

Yang Xiao Long stood in front of the full-length mirror in a flowing white gown that somehow managed to look both elegant and sexy-Even with her pregnancy. Six months pregnant, her belly curved proudly under the silk, and her golden hair had been twisted into soft waves that framed her face. She looked beautiful. She looked terrified.

Weiss fussed with the train, Winter adjusted the veil with military precision, and Blake stood off to the side offering quiet, steady reassurance.

"It's fine, Yang," Blake said gently, "It's all going to be fine."

"I'm fine," Yang said for the fifth time in two minutes. Her voice cracked. "Totally fine. One hundred percent fine. Why wouldn't I be fine? I'm getting married. To Jaune. The guy who literally brought me back from being a dragon. No big deal. Except—what if I just… hopped on Bumblebee right now? Revved the engine, hit the highway, and kept going until I hit Vacuo? I could be in the desert by sundown. Sand in my hair, wind in my face, no responsibilities—"

"Yang," Weiss cut in sharply, "you are six months pregnant. You are not hopping on anything with two wheels."

Winter nodded once, arms crossed. "And even if you weren't, I would tackle you before you reached the parking lot."

Blake stepped closer, ears twitching. "Yang. Breathe. You're spiraling."

"I'm not spiraling!" Yang's hands fluttered over her belly. "I'm just… thinking. Logically. What if I turn out exactly like Mom? What if I get scared and run and leave Jaune holding the baby and—oh gods, what if the kid grows up wondering why Mommy disappeared on a motorcycle like some bad country song?"

The door burst open. Ruby skidded in, bouquet already slightly crushed from nerves. "Yang! I heard you from the hallway! You're not running! You're getting married! To Jaune! Our Jaune! The one who makes terrible puns and still blushes when you kiss him in public!"

Yang's eyes were wide, verging on hysteria. "Ruby, I love him so much it hurts, but what if love isn't enough? What if I ruin everything? What if—"

Weiss grabbed Yang's shoulders firmly. "Xiao Long, you will calm down. You are carrying my future niece or nephew and I refuse to deliver emotional support in a desert because you decided to reenact your mother's greatest hits."

Blake exchanged a quick look with Ruby, then slipped out the door without another word.

A minute later the door opened again. Blake returned, gently pushing Jaune Arc inside. He was already in his tux-simple, classic, the jacket straining just a little across his broad shoulders. The horrible scar across his neck stood out stark against his collar: the jagged line where Cinder had nearly taken his head, and where Yang-in her dragon form-had bitten him in blind, grief-fueled rage during the chaos of the Ever After.

The other women quietly filed out. Ruby gave Yang a quick thumbs-up and a watery smile before closing the door behind them.

Jaune crossed the room in three strides and pulled Yang into his arms, holding her tight against his chest. She buried her face in his shoulder, the white veil crumpling between them. Soft, shaky sniffles turned into quiet sobs.

"What are you afraid of, Yang?" he asked gently, one hand stroking her back, the other cradling the back of her head.

"I… What if… What if I run away?" she whispered, voice breaking. "What if I leave you and… and our kid behind like my mom?"

Jaune's arms tightened. "Yang… Yang. First… you never cut and run against Salem. Not once. You fought tooth and nail, even when you were a dragon. And second?" He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, that familiar, steady blue gaze unwavering. "You really think I wouldn't track you down to the ends of Remnant and bring you back?"

Yang let out a wet, broken scoff. "I nearly killed you… I… I'm so scared…" Another shaky breath. "I'm so scared…"

Jaune cupped her face, thumbs brushing away tears. "And that's what courage means. Conquering your fear… not letting it win. You're not your mother, Yang. You never will be. You stayed. You fought. You came back to me. Every single time."

Yang sniffled hard, leaning into his touch. "…You're right… You're right… I'm just… I'm just so stupid…"

Jaune smiled softly, pressing his forehead to hers. "You're pregnant and getting married. Of course you're gonna act stupid."

Yang let out a watery laugh despite herself. "…You're really tempting me to get even more emotional, you know. Like with my fists."

"I know…" He grinned, that crooked, boyish smile she loved so much. "Which is how stupid I am, huh? Stupidly in love with you."

Yang laughed again, louder this time, the sound breaking through the tears. "That was terrible…"

"I know…"

She looked up at him, eyes shining. "I loved it…" Then she leaned in and kissed him—soft at first, then deeper, her hands sliding up to paw at the lapels of his tuxedo.

Jaune groaned against her mouth but gently caught her wrists, pulling back just enough. "Y-Yang! We gotta get married first!"

"Fine… Fine…" She rested her forehead against his, breathing hard, a wicked little spark returning to her lilac eyes. "But after? You'd better get me to the limo fast… 'Cause I might not be able to wait~."

Jaune let out a long, suffering groan, cheeks flushing. "Great… Now I won't be able to either."

Yang laughed again-bright, real, and full of love-then kissed him once more, softer this time. "Good. Gives us something to look forward to."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian Cathedral, Gallia, Vale

Five years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The dressing room was pure chaos wrapped in white silk and rose petals.

Ruby Rose stood in the center of it all, absolutely radiant in her wedding gown—except for the fact that she looked two seconds away from launching herself out the nearest window like a human Crescent Rose bullet.

"I can't do this!" she squeaked, pacing in a tight circle, veil flapping behind her like a battle standard. "What if I trip over my own feet? What if my normal knees just-just give out? What if I burst out of the room screaming and everyone sees me running down the aisle backwards? What if-?!"

"Ruby," Weiss said, voice sharp but fond as she tried to pin the veil back in place, "you are not going to burst out of anywhere. You're my best friend and you will walk down that aisle like the elegant, graceful Huntress you are."

"Elegant? Me?" Ruby flailed her arms. "I still trip over air on a good day! And these knees—my normal knees—are not built for weddings! They're built for scythe-swinging and cookie-baking, not slow dignified walking while everyone stares at me!"

Blake stepped in smoothly, hands gentle on Ruby's shoulders. "Deep breaths. You've faced Salem. You've faced Tyrian. You can face walking twenty feet in heels."

Yang, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and a grin that was half-sisterly affection, half-amusement, chuckled. "Besides, if your knees betray you, Jaune will just carry you the rest of the way. He's done it before."

"That's not helping!" Ruby wailed.

Penny Polendina hovered nearby, green eyes wide with helpful concern, her legs making soft whirring sounds every time she shifted.

"Friend Ruby, your knees are functioning at ninety-eight point seven percent efficiency! I have been monitoring your vitals since we started getting ready. There is only a zero-point-three percent chance of catastrophic knee failure!"

Ruby's eyes widened as she began to tremble.

Weiss pinched the bridge of her nose. "Penny, that is… somehow making it worse."

Yang waved her hands. "Yeah, not helping! We're trying to calm her down, not wind her up!"

Ruby's silver eyes were wide and panicked. "See? Even Penny knows my knees are doomed! I'm gonna trip, fall on my face, and our babies will think their mom is the clumsiest person on Remnant and-!"

Penny's rockets fired with a cheerful whoosh. She shot out of the room like a mint-green missile before anyone could stop her.

Ruby blinked. "What the heck is she—?"

Thirty seconds later Penny rocketed back in, one metallic arm wrapped firmly around Jaune Arc's waist as she carried him bridal-style through the doorway. Jaune looked equal parts startled and resigned, still half in his tux, artificial right hand twitching slightly at his side.

Weiss shrieked. "PENNY! They're not supposed to see each other before the ceremony!"

Penny tilted her head innocently, still hovering with Jaune in her arms. "Query: Do the bride and groom need to be blinded? I can provide sensory deprivation goggles if traditional superstition requires temporary visual obstruction-?"

"Penny!" Yang barked, already herding the others toward the door. "Out. All of you. Now."

Blake gave Ruby an encouraging nod. Weiss muttered something about "ridiculous robot logic" under her breath. Yang shot her sister a quick thumbs-up before closing the door firmly behind them, leaving Ruby and Jaune alone.

Ruby stared at him, veil slightly askew, hands hovering protectively over her belly. "Jaune… what is it? You look… off."

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, the artificial right one still giving occasional little jerks. "It's nothing."

Ruby's eyes narrowed. "Jaune Arc. Spill."

He sighed, holding up the malfunctioning hand. The fingers twitched again, servos making a soft grinding sound. "It's… glitching a bit. Started this morning. I thought I could tough it out until after the ceremony."

Ruby's panic evaporated instantly, replaced by that familiar focused Huntress-engineer glare. She marched over (knees apparently forgetting they were supposed to be traitorous), dropped to her knees despite the dress, and pulled a small emergency repair kit out of… somewhere inside her gown.

Not that Jaune commented on that: He knew her too well.

"You absolute dork," she scolded gently, already popping open a panel on his wrist and fiddling with the micro-tools. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've fixed this last night!"

Jaune smiled down at her, soft and warm.

"In all the excitement of the wedding… I thought I'd tell you after. Didn't want to stress you out more."

Ruby sighed, carefully recalibrating a servo. "Jaune… I'll always be here for you. That's what marriage is all about. Does it always have to be you taking on more hardship by yourself? We... We promised we'd never be like that. Never again."

He watched her work, the artificial hand slowly steadying under her touch. "I'm the tank. The shield. That's my job."

Ruby scoffed, closing the panel with a satisfied click and giving the hand a test flex. It moved smoothly now. "We're more than our roles, dummy. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore."

Jaune's expression softened. He reached down with his newly-fixed hand—warm, steady—and gently cupped her cheek. "Yes… and the same goes for you." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, right through the veil. "My knees might be normal, but I still need you to catch me sometimes too."

Ruby rose up on her toes (knees behaving perfectly, thank you very much) and kissed him properly: Soft, sweet, then deeper as her arms looped around his neck. Jaune pulled her closer, careful of her belly, and for a moment the entire world narrowed down to just the two of them.

The door cracked open.

Weiss's voice cut through like a rapier. "Save that for the honeymoon, you two! We still have a ceremony to get through!"

Ruby pulled back with a sheepish giggle, cheeks flushed, silver eyes sparkling. Jaune just grinned, resting his forehead against hers.

"Ready?" he whispered.

Ruby took a deep breath, squeezed his repaired hand, and nodded. "Yeah… I think my normal knees are gonna be just fine."

She kissed him one more time—quick and full of promise—then let Weiss drag her back toward the mirror for final adjustments.

Jaune lingered in the doorway a second longer, watching her with that same look he'd had since Beacon: like she hung the moon and stars and built them herself.

"See you at the altar, Crater Face," he teased softly.

Ruby stuck her tongue out at him, but she was smiling brighter than any silver-eyed blast. "You better be there, Vomit Boy. Or I'm coming after you."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The hangar's echoes were still dying down when Blake ducked back behind the Tigertail's sleek fuselage, heart hammering like a war drum. She immediately pressed both hands over her face, mortified heat radiating from her ears all the way down to her toes.

Ghira and Kali had done the heavy lifting in the conversation with the prisoners from then on. Blake had stayed on, as stoic as she could manage... But the moment she had some privacy, she felt like falling apart.

Kali stepped in beside her, bright and unflappable as ever.

"I think it went well!"

Blake's muffled groan was answer enough. Leander and Leandra flanked her without a word, each twin reaching up to pat one of her shoulders in gentle, synchronized comfort.

"That was a total disaster…!" Blake whimpered through her fingers.

Kali clicked her tongue, soft and maternal.
"Now Blake… the fact they listened at all is a win. Enough to give us some hope. They aren't trying to escape, or fighting back against us even while we send them home to be tried."

Blake moaned. Kali reached up and rubbed behind her ears affectionately.

"Sometimes in politics you must take what you can get."

Blake lowered her hands just enough to peek out, cheeks still flaming.

"Ugh… You taught me so much and I just… I forgot it all. All for...!"

"Love?" Kali guessed. Blake blushed brighter.

"I... I don't know if it's that far but... Um... Maybe."

"Not just of your fiance," Kali said gently. Blake flushed and bent her head again, mumbling.

"... It is a big mistake I made-"

"And you're working to correct it," Kali said gently, "As hard as you can."

Blake sighed.

"I just... I wish I had retained more of your lessons... Maybe not been so... Stupid."

Leandra gave her shoulder another reassuring pat.

"Trust me Mom, you become an amazing negotiator in the future!"

Leander nodded sagely on her other side.

"Yes, very good."

Leandra's smile turned impish. "And you teach us!"

Leander's grin widened. "Trust me, it was useful having to deal with eighteen siblings."

Blake let out a long, theatrical groan and slumped back against the aircraft's metal skin.

From the other side of the Tigertail came the sound of approaching footsteps—military boots mixed with the lighter click of restraints. Ghira appeared first, calm and regal, followed by Sun (grinning like an idiot) and two VDF guards in green battle dress. Between them walked Ilia, in some casual clothes, wrists cuffed in front of her and a simple leather collar around her neck. A leash clipped to the collar rested loosely in Sun's hand. Lieutenant Colonel Stuart brought up the rear, one eyebrow arched in bemused curiosity.

Ilia's eyes flicked up and met Blake's. She offered a small, awkward nod.

"…Hello, Blake."

Blake straightened quickly, despite the added awkwardness.

"Ilia…"

Ilia shifted, cuffs clinking. "I… Your parents spoke with me. About everything. And um…"

Blake swallowed hard. "Ilia… I did screw up a lot with you. I know. I've… I've generally screwed up everything. I think I screwed this up too. I'm so sorry you got dragged into all this."

Ilia's colors flickered-brief flashes of regret and embarrassment dancing across her skin.

"Well… I mean… I did a lot of bad things too-"

Ghira's deep voice cut in, gentle but firm.'

"Blame never solves anything. At some point, you have to ask… what are you going to do about it?"

Sun grinned wider, giving the leash a tiny, playful tug that made Ilia's spots turn pink.

"Yeah… That's what I told her."

Ilia huffed, cheeks tinting pink. "Hmph… So… Um… I will give intelligence to Chieftain Belladonna. Now that I understand the situation better. I'll work with them to help stop all this. And ensure everyone gets a fair trial."

Sun beamed like the sun itself. "And I'll be there every day with you!"

Ilia's colors flared brighter. "Y-You don't have to be there all the time!"

Sun leaned in, utterly unbothered. "No, but I want to."

Kali clasped her hands together with an audible "Awww…"

Leander and Leandra exchanged a quick, slightly nauseated glance before shrugging at Blake in unison.

Leander muttered, "They're as lovey-dovey as you two."

Leandra added under her breath, "Please, no one's that lovey-dovey."

Sun perked up. "How many kids do we have in the future?"

Leander answered without thinking. "Like… seven… teen?"

Ilia's eyes went wide. "S-S-SEVENTEEN?!"

Sun punched the air. "WOW! I'd better start getting ready!"

Ilia's colors flashed through every shade of mortified pink before she simply fainted dead away. Sun caught her effortlessly, cradling her against his chest with a soft chuckle.

Lieutenant Colonel Stuart raised an eyebrow, voice dry. "The future?"

Blake's heart stopped. A drop of ice plunged straight into her stomach. They were supposed to keep this secret-!

Ghira and Kali exchanged a single, perfectly synchronized glance. Kali turned to the colonel with the sweetest, most diplomatic smile in the Belladonna arsenal.

"Colonel Stuart… surely you understand the nature of discretion when it comes to delicate diplomatic situations?"

Stuart's expression didn't change, but the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Oh… of course." He looked to the two soldiers beside him. "Did you hear anything, Corporal?"

The corporal stared straight ahead. "No sir."

Stuart turned to the private. "How about you, Private?"

"Not a thing, sir!"

Kali beamed at Blake, warm and proud.

"Politics."
Blake let out a shaky breath, the tension in her chest easing just a fraction. She looked at her mother-really looked-and the words slipped out before she could second-guess them.

"…I… would like to relearn, Mother."

Kali's smile softened into something gentler, almost misty.

"Of course! But first-" She reached out and gently tugged one of Blake's cat ears. "We need to get you ready for your date!"

Blake blinked, the absurdity of the day crashing back in full force. Behind her, Leander and Leandra snickered quietly while Sun adjusted his grip on the still-unconscious Ilia and grinned like he'd just won the lottery.

Blake covered her face with her hands again, but this time a tiny, reluctant smile peeked between her fingers.

"…Yes."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Arc-Atlan Farmhouse, Radian, Vale

11 years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The living-room fire crackled low and golden. Jaune sat in the big worn armchair with Arslan curled against his side, her head on his shoulder. Five children were gathered at their feet like a litter of curious kittens amidst wrapped chocolates and gifts.

Petra, seven and already fierce, leaned against Jaune's good knee. Neptune, five, sprawled on his stomach with his chin in his hands. Kazuma, four, sat cross-legged and solemn. Lucy, three, clutched a stuffed lion and sucked her thumb. In twin carriers beside Arslan's chair, baby Susan and Peter fussed softly in their tiny Sunday best:Susan in a miniature white dress, Peter in a miniature black suit.

Jaune's voice, warm and steady, filled the room as he read from the old leather-bound book.

"And the White Witch said unto Aslan, 'You have come to die in the traitor's stead.' And Aslan answered, 'It is so.' Then they bound the Great Lion and shaved his mane and dragged him to the Stone Table. There the Witch raised her knife and slew him, and the sky grew dark, and all the world seemed to weep with Lucy and Susan...

"But lo, when the sun rose again upon the first light of morning, the Stone Table cracked asunder from end to end. And Aslan stood before them, whole and alive, his mane restored and his eyes brighter than the dawn. And he said unto the girls:

"'There is a deeper magic from before the dawn of time. When a willing victim who has committed no wrong is slain in the traitor's stead, the Table will crack and Death itself will begin to work backwards.'"

Jaune closed the book gently.

Petra's eyes were shining. "Dad would've charged right in and saved Aslan," she declared. "He wouldn't have let the Witch touch him."

Arslan smiled, soft and proud, and brushed a lock of hair from Petra's face. "I know he would have tried, sweetheart. But Aslan had to die. For Edmund. For all of us."

Neptune sat up, brow furrowed. "Why?"

Jaune rested a hand on his son's head. "To save us all, buddy. Sometimes the only way to beat the darkness is to let it think it's won… and then come back anyway."

The children absorbed that in silence for a moment. Then Jaune clapped his hands once. "All right, story time's over. Go get ready for church: best clothes, best behavior. Aurora's Day waits for no one."

The older four scrambled up with excited chatter and thundered upstairs. Arslan chuckled, already reaching into the carriers to straighten Susan's little dress and Peter's tiny suit. The babies fussed and kicked, unhappy at being confined.

Jaune rose carefully—his artificial leg giving its familiar soft mechanical click—and stepped behind his wife. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on top of her head.

"I'm very thankful for you this day," he murmured against her hair.

Arslan giggled, a low, warm sound, and leaned back into him, nuzzling his jaw. "And I for you, my knight."

She was quiet a moment, watching the twins settle under her gentle hands. Then, softer:

"The Blacksmith… in the Ever After… offered to let me die. To come back as someone new. A clean slate."

Jaune's arms tightened. "She offered me the same."

Arslan turned just enough to meet his eyes. "I still find that whole place… distressing. She never said what she truly was. Or what the Brothers were. It makes me wonder if my faith is strong enough when I doubt like this. After all this time...

Her eyes fell slightly, meeting his chin.

Jaune kissed the top of her head. "She was an angel of God, I think. And the Brothers… fallen ones. That's the only thing that makes sense to me."

Arslan nodded slowly. "I think that too. But the worry remains. What if my faith isn't strong enough?"

"Doubt is natural," Jaune said quietly. "What matters is how we live. Besides… faith wouldn't be faith if we knew for sure, right?"

Arslan's smile returned, small and grateful. She turned fully in his arms and kissed him. It was slow, tender, full of years of shared battles and quiet mornings.

Well, once quiet mornings.

The thunder of small feet announced the older children's return. Petra, Neptune, Kazuma, and Lucy barreled in, scrubbed and dressed and vibrating with Aurora's Day excitement.

Jaune adjusted his artificial leg one last time, then offered Arslan his arm. She gathered the twins, Susan in one carrier, Peter in the other, and slipped her free hand into his.

Together they stepped out into the bright Radian morning, the whole family moving as one toward the pick up truck.

Petra skipped ahead, already eager and energetic.

"Do we get to keep the eggs we find?" Neptune asked.

"Of course we do, stupid!" Petra laughed. Neptune scowled.

"Mama! She called me stupid!"

"Cause you are!"

"Nuh uh! Lucy's stupid!"

"Am not!" Lucy cried, tears already coming to her eyes.

"Behave, children!" Jaune ordered sternly. "Petra, apologize."

Petra, contrite, bowed her head.

"Sorry Neptune."

Neptune sniffled. Petra took his hand, and he smiled softly.

"Kazuma," Arslan spoke, "Hold Lucy's hand and help her."

Kazuma held her hand with a smile. Lucy stopped crying, and hugged him. The babies cooed.

They piled into the truck. Jaune put the twins into their car seats. Arslan managed the other kids. They slid into the front seats, and sighed. Jaune smiled and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back.

"And yes," Arslan said, "You do get to keep the eggs."

"YAY!" Cheered the children, as Jaune started the truck up and eased it down the driveway, into the warm morning light.

- - -

For those who celebrate: Happy Easter! And even if you don't celebrate: Happy Easter! I hope you have a good day.

I decided, after a lot of thought, to name the holiday that corresponded to Easter "Aurora Fracta" (Broken Dawn in Latin): Aurora for short. Easter is derived from an Old English/Germanic word ēastre, which is believed to be named after an Anglo-Saxon goddess of spring and dawn. This term is linked to the Proto-Germanic root austron-, meaning "dawn." Aurora thus continues the tradition of using pagan god names and words for Christian holidays. Which does not make them pagan, they just made the words fit a new holiday.