SAPR

by Scipio Smith

Father and Mother and Violet Too (New)

Father and Mother and Violet Too

There was a stag’s head on the wall of Mister Arc’s study, with a pair of magnificent antlers spreading out from it, almost touching the ceiling beneath which it was mounted.

It was not the only decoration in the wood-panelled study, but it was the one to which Pyrrha found her eyes were drawn inexorably.

Mister Arc must have noticed — it cannot have been very hard to do so — because he said, “I got that a couple of summers ago out in the woods. Seems like I was lucky not to come across a grimm instead, huh?”

“Yes,” Pyrrha replied. “Or you could say that the McKinleys were simply unfortunate.”

“Or that we were lucky to have you here,” Mister Arc pointed out.

Pyrrha smiled slightly. “You’re too kind, sir—”

“Gold,” Mister Arc insisted. “I already told you, there’s no need for all of that formality here. Now, can I call you Pyrrha, or would you prefer Miss Nikos?”

“Pyrrha will be fine, thank you,” Pyrrha murmured.

Gold smiled. “Pyrrha it is then.” There was a desk in the study, but he did not sit behind; rather, he took an armchair that, if it was not exactly gold, was nevertheless a bright yellow colour. He gestured to another chair, more spindly, wooden, and with a cushion in the same yellow colour. “Please, take a seat.”

Pyrrha sat down. She was glad that Mister Arc had asked to speak with her like this. She had, truth to tell, hoped for something like this, when Jaune’s father would ask to speak to her and judge whether she was worthy of his son and give her the chance to prove that, yes, she was fit for Jaune and to be a part of his life.

On the other hand, of course, the fact that she now had this chance was no guarantee that she wouldn’t fail the test in some way. There was always the chance that she would not be sufficiently impressive, that by the end of their conversation, Mister Arc would judge her unworthy, and she would be ejected from the house just as Sky and the others had hoped to do yesterday.

It was enough to make Pyrrha’s stomach flutter a little with nervousness.

She had spoken true to Sunset when she had told her that she didn’t want Jaune to have to choose between his family and her.

But she didn’t think that she could give up on him for the sake of his family either, selfish though it might be.

No. No, she couldn’t think like that. She couldn’t get caught in a spiral of fear and doubt. She had to keep looking forwards and get through his meeting with Jaune’s father with his … with his blessing.

Thought about like that, it was as if she was asking for his permission to marry his son. She was not — apart from anything else, Pyrrha would prefer for Jaune to ask — but in a way … who knew when they might be here again? This might be Pyrrha’s only chance to obtain any sort of blessing at all, from Jaune’s father or his mother.

So she had better get this right.

She sat down, her hands clasped together on her lap.

Mister Arc smiled benevolently at her. “I hope you don’t mind me prying you away from Jaune for a little while, but since you and my son are an item, I’d like to get to know you a little better.”

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Pyrrha said softly. “I hope you don’t mind me saying that I wouldn’t mind getting to know Jaune’s father a little better as well.”

I wouldn’t mind asking why you didn’t unlock his aura, or even tell him what it was, Pyrrha thought, although she almost certainly would not ask. She hoped to gain Mister Arc’s approval, after all, and picking a fight with him over the way he had raised his son was probably not the best way to do that.

Mister Arc nodded. “That’s natural, and that’s fine,” he said. “I know that this place must seem very quiet, very … traditional, in certain ways, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. This isn’t that scene where I call you in so I can try and scare you off with what a big guy I am, show off my gun collection, all that crap. Apart from anything else, I doubt that would work on a Beacon huntress, much less one as accomplished as you, if Terra is to be believed. But my point is that if this can be a two-way street, then so much the better. We can get to know one another without my daughters getting in the way.” He chuckled. “I love my children, but … there are a lot of them, and they can be very loud.”

Pyrrha didn’t reply. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds as a guest here; in all likelihood, Mister Arc would never tolerate an outsider saying things about his family that he said himself.

And so, after a moment's pause, it was left to Mister Arc to continue the conversation.

“Do you always dress so…” Mister Arc — Gold — waved one hand in front of him. “So well?”

Pyrrha considered her answer for a moment. “I don’t dress like this for battle,” she said, “either in the arena or the field, but I suppose you could say that even my combat attire is … a little flamboyant.”

Gold nodded, although he offered no clue as to whether he had seen her combat attire — a little research would have shown it to him, but he might not have felt the need to do any — and in any case, he brought the subject back to where it had been, saying, “And outside of battle? Do you always dress like this?”

Pyrrha wondered if he disapproved, although she could not think why; she wondered — worried, was perhaps a better description — whether he found it too much. “I … I am not what you would call a casual dresser; is that a problem?”

“Not as much of a problem as you tailoring your answers to impress me,” Gold declared. “I told you that I want to get to know you, not the person that you think I want to hear. Honestly, you dress like that?”

“Honestly, I’m … not sure why you are interested in how I dress,” Pyrrha murmured, hoping that her tone remained respectful, even as her response might be read as less than such.

“That’s a fair point,” Gold muttered. “I suppose … I suppose that when you told us that you were really Mistral’s princess—”

“I’m not a princess,” Pyrrha corrected him. “That is … a name. A nickname bestowed on me by crowds and flatterers and promoters. It isn’t a title. There is no royal family in Mistral anymore; my great-grandfather laid down his crown at the end of the Great War, and none have picked it up since.”

“And yet you dress like that,” Gold pointed out.

“How should I dress?” asked Pyrrha. “I like … pretty things. Elegant things. Gowns and dresses and jewellery too, upon occasion. I wore this gown, and I dressed as I did last night, and I will dress up yet more for dinner tonight, in part, I must confess, to impress you and your family, to show that I respected you enough to dress up instead of assuming that I could turn up at your door in any old thing, but even if that had not been in my mind, I would still have worn something more like this than … than anything else because … because this is simply more to my taste.”

“But not to Jaune’s,” Gold said. “I know that it might seem strange, me sitting here asking about what you like to wear, but … I see you, dressed like that, and then I see Jaune wearing that same old hoodie, and … well, you admit, that there’s a bit of a difference there.”

“I suppose,” Pyrrha said softly.

“We’re pretty well settled here, I admit,” Gold said. “Has Sky told you that our family founded this town?”

“Yes,” Pyrrha said. “And even if she hadn’t, the statue would have suggested your importance.”

Gold shrugged. “We’re lucky,” he said. “We’re no Schnees — and I suspect we’re no Nikoses either — but this family has never really wanted for anything, at least not materially. But all the same … despite what your mother or your teammate might be hoping to dig up, we’re nothing special. We’re just the Arcs, just a pretty ordinary family from a pretty ordinary little village out in the boonies. And you … well, you know what you are.”

Pyrrha’s brow furrowed a little beneath her circlet. “Mister— Gold … I feel as though you’re trying to say something. I would prefer you be more plain, for I fail to take your meaning.”

Gold was silent for a moment. “That was a nice story you told, about how you and Jaune got together,” he said.

“It really happened just like that,” Pyrrha said.

“If you thought I was sceptical because of the word 'story,' then I apologise,” Gold said. “That wasn’t what I meant. That isn’t what I’m worried about.” He paused. “You know, I had a lot of worries about Jaune, but the idea that he would end up alone was never one of them. He’s a good-looking kid — better-looking than I was when I was his age; all my children get their good looks from their mother, even if they do have my colouring in the hair and eyes — and while he … while he was never exactly what you’d call much of a man, I never doubted his good intentions.”

“No,” Pyrrha murmured, and tried to keep the disapproval out of her voice.

Gold looked at her, and for a moment, Pyrrha thought that he had picked up on her disapproval, before he continued, “I always knew that he would find someone. He wasn’t so hopeless that no girl would go for him. I just wasn’t expecting a girl like you to go for him, and now … I suppose what worries me is … you know he’s very taken with you.”

Pyrrha couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “That’s always good to hear,” she said. “I’m rather fond of Jaune as well.”

“What worries me,” Gold said, for far from the first time, so much so that Pyrrha wondered what his worries were that he had such trouble expressing them, “is that at some point, you’ll take a look at Jaune in his hoodie and his jeans and realise that he isn’t really up to your standards, that he doesn’t belong by your side, in your world.”

“You have nothing to worry about in that regard, I promise you,” Pyrrha declared.

“No?” Gold asked.

“No,” Pyrrha said firmly.

She leaned forward and debated whether it might be best to stand up for this. It might seem melodramatic, especially given Gold Arc’s already-expressed distaste for Mistralian courtesy.

Well, let him think her melodramatic, let him think her the very worst kind of Mistralian; the fact of the matter was that she was a Mistralian, and any other way of getting her point across would seem mealy-mouthed by comparison.

“Mister Arc,” she said, getting to her feet, standing before him with her back straight, “if I was ever inclined to want a Mistralian lord with old money and an old name and a lord’s dress sense, then I could have had one; my mother would have arranged the match eagerly enough, I assure you. But that is not what I desire. Yes, I enjoy things that are beautiful and feminine, but I do not demand that Jaune share my tastes.”

She smiled. “Not to mention that I find your son as fair to look on in his hoodie and jeans as he ever does in a suit or anything else for that matter. I … I know that you do not much care for Mistralian manners, but nevertheless, I know no other way to say this that is not melodramatic, but I am his, as he is mine; my heart … he has pierced my heart. He has pierced my heart and claimed it for himself as you claimed the head of that stag up on your wall. I will not cast him away. I could not even if I wished, certainly not over such a frivolous thing. Not … not over anything … except, perhaps…”

Gold leaned forward in his armchair. “Perhaps what?”

“Duty,” Pyrrha murmured. “I … I must admit that if it came to a choice between my duty as a huntress, my obligations to the world, and to Jaune … I’m not yet sure what I would do.”

Gold was silent for a moment. “Well, if that’s all, then Jaune is a very lucky guy with very little to worry about.”

Pyrrha blinked. “You don’t—”

“What you’ve just described is the curse of being a huntsman, or a huntress,” Gold said. “What you’ve just described is why I quit when Rouge was born. Love and Duty … I didn’t want to be forced to choose between them. Or rather, maybe it would be better to say that I chose Love and told Duty to go find someone else. Not everyone makes that choice, but that choice … I’m not going to judge you for not being sure that you’d choose Jaune. I wouldn’t even judge you if you didn’t choose Jaune, not for that choice, the hardest choice. For anything else, I might judge you,” he added, “but not for that.”

“I … I am glad to hear it,” Pyrrha murmured. “He … Jaune, I … he really does mean the world to me. I very much want you to believe that, to understand that. If there is anything that I can do to prove it to you—”

“'Prove it'?” Gold repeated. “How would I ask you to go about doing that?”

Pyrrha’s mouth opened, but no words emerged. “I … our team leader suggested that you might set me some sort of labour or challenge.”

Gold’s eyebrows rose. “Is your team leader a Mistralian too by any chance?”

“No,” Pyrrha said. “Sunset is…” A magical unicorn from a land called Equestria. “From outside the kingdoms, by way of Atlas.”

“Really? I would have thought that she would have more sense,” Gold muttered. “No, I’m not going to set you any challenges; no, you don’t have to pass a test; no, you don’t have to prove anything to me. Jaune says he loves you, you say that you love him, and for what it’s worth, I believe the both of you. I’m not going to say I have a hundred percent faith that it’ll work out between you two, but I believe that you’re both sincere in what you say.”

Once more, he took a moment’s pause. “But still … you come from very different worlds. You say that you wouldn’t cast Jaune out because he doesn’t fit into yours—”

“And I would not,” Pyrrha insisted.

“But what about everyone else in your world?” Gold asked. “Will everyone else be as accommodating as you? If Jaune goes to Mistral with you, is he going to end up with only you in the whole city who treats him right in a sea of people who look at him like he doesn’t belong there?”

Pyrrha did not respond immediately. “I … I cannot say it is impossible,” she admitted. She took a deep breath. “Jaune and I talked a little about our future, while you were all out.”

“As you do,” Gold said, sounding amused. “You two really are serious, aren’t you?”

“When it comes to my heart, I’m not sure I know how to be anything but serious,” Pyrrha admitted. “I am … I lack…”

“I’m sure,” Gold murmured, sparing her the need to finish. “So, what kind of future did you talk about?”

“One … in Mistral,” Pyrrha admitted. “But … I cannot say that there are none in Mistral who might take against Jaune for his background, but nor will I say that the whole of Mistralian society would turn against him without better cause than that.” After all, snobbish though it was at times, steeped in its traditions, obsessed with its past glories and its ancient honours, nevertheless, Mistralian society had shown at times the ability to be accepting: Pyrrha’s own mother had embraced Sunset to the bosom of the family; and the Rutulians had welcomed Camilla into their home and House, and no one dared suggest that she did not belong there. She hoped that Jaune might be welcomed in the same way. “But, if Jaune was unhappy, then … then I would leave. I would not force him to remain anywhere that made him miserable. I care for him too much for that.”

Gold gave no sign of what he thought of Pyrrha’s response. He watched her without speaking. When he did speak, it was to change the subject: “So tell me about Beacon.”

“What do you want to know?”

“What do you want to tell me?” Gold asked.

Pyrrha thought for a moment. You did say you wanted me to be honest with you. “You went to Beacon yourself, didn’t you?” she asked.

Gold nodded. “I did.”

“May I ask how Initiation was conducted in your day?”

Gold winced. “The catapult.”

“Jaune nearly died!” Pyrrha declared. “Jaune would have died if…”

She cut herself off, swallowing her words, lest a declaration that Jaune would have died if not for her should be taken for entitlement or some idea that she had some claim on Jaune in consequence.

It didn’t appear to work. Gold said, “I take it you had something to do with the fact that he didn’t?”

“Well…” Pyrrha murmured.

“I don’t know why you think that saving my son’s life is something you should feel embarrassed about,” Gold told her.

“I just…” Pyrrha trailed off for a moment. “He seemed so very out of his depth, I couldn’t just stand by without doing something to help him. I didn’t know that he hadn’t activated his aura at the time, only that he seemed inexperienced, nervous … as though he didn’t have a plan. I didn’t realise until later that that wasn’t all he didn’t have.” She took a deep breath. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why didn’t Jaune have his aura activated?” Pyrrha demanded. “How could you send him off to Beacon not only with no training but without even the most basic thing that he’d need to survive?”

“Let’s get one thing straight: I didn’t send Jaune anywhere,” Gold reminded her. “He snuck out to Beacon in the middle of the night without my knowledge.”

“Then why did he have to do that?” Pyrrha replied. “And even if you didn’t necessarily want him to go to Beacon, why not tell him a little more about what it entailed? Would it have been so difficult for you to activate his aura and give him a little rudimentary training in how to use his sword and shield?”

“I didn’t think he could do it.”

“Why not? Because he wasn’t enough of a man for you, for this place?” Pyrrha asked. “Because he wasn’t burly and tall like your son-in-law? Because he couldn’t instantly tame a wild horse when he was younger?”

Gold closed his eyes. “He told you about the horse.”

“Yes,” Pyrrha said softly. “He told me how disappointed you were.”

“Not because he couldn’t ride the horse!” Gold cried. “I knew he wasn’t going to be able to ride a wild mustang that no one else had managed to tame; I was disappointed that he was stupid enough to think that he could. I was disappointed that he made an ass of himself in front the whole village doing something so stupid. That … that’s why I didn’t activate his aura, that’s why I didn’t train him no matter how much he begged, that’s why I didn’t want to hear about him going to Beacon … I thought it was just that horse in the marketplace all over again, Jaune talking about doing something he obviously couldn’t do. You know he was lucky not to crack his head open when that stallion threw him. He was lucky not to be killed at Beacon; you told me that yourself.”

“Because he wasn’t prepared,” Pyrrha replied. “Because you left him unprepared.”

Gold hesitated. “I didn’t think that he’d go through with it.”

“You didn’t give him any reason to think that he shouldn’t go through with it,” Pyrrha pointed out. “For which, in spite of the fact that Jaune almost died during Initiation, I should probably thank you for, for if Jaune had turned back…”

“You and he—”

“No,” Pyrrha said. “I mean, yes, of course, but more importantly than that, our team, and Beacon itself, would have lost … forgive me, but when I think about what Jaune could be right now if you had taken the trouble to train and prepare him for Beacon … it is rather frustrating. The number of people who work as hard as Jaune does, who push themselves as hard as he does … I have a rival who has dedicated herself to defeating me in combat, and I don’t think she pushes herself as hard, works herself as hard, as Jaune does. He is so dedicated to his training, and while some of that may be that he knows how much ground he has to cover to catch up with the rest of us, I’m sure that most of it is simply in his nature. He has saved the lives of both of our teammates, Sunset Shimmer and Ruby Rose; they would both be dead if it wasn’t for Jaune. I … I have needed him in battle, even though I acted as though I did not. You … you have given the world quite a gift in Jaune, Mister Arc. I’m only sorry that you couldn’t see it.”

“But I am very glad that you could,” Gold said. “Jaune said that you believe in him, and now … now I see what he meant. I think that my son was very lucky to meet you, Pyrrha Nikos. Thank you, for everything.”

Pyrrha got up, recognising a dismissal when she heard it. “I was very lucky to meet him too,” she said, “but I thank you for the compliment.” She bowed her head and turned to go, her red sash trailing after her just a little as she exited the study. The eyes of the stag mounted on the wall seemed to follow her as she departed.

She shut the door behind her, although she had no idea whether Gold Arc would remain there long or not, and was about to go and find Jaune when she heard the voice of his mother behind her.

“Ah, there you are, dear, just finished with Gold?”

Pyrrha turned to face her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, you needn’t call me ma’am, not when you and Jaune are so close,” she said, although that was exactly what she had asked Pyrrha to do last night, and she and Jaune had not gotten noticeably closer since. “You can call me Honeysuckle.”

“Thank you,” Pyrrha said, “that’s very kind.”

“Not at all, not at all,” Honeysuckle replied. “I hope Gold didn’t make you sweat too much in there; it would be a shame to ruin that dress.”

Pyrrha chuckled. “No, I … I’m afraid I might have made him sweat a little more than I did.”

Honeysuckle’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

Pyrrha wondered if this might be a mistake to be so honest with Jaune’s mother, but on the other hand, Gold would undoubtedly tell his wife about it if he had a problem with Pyrrha’s attitude, so she hoped that Honeysuckle, like her husband, would appreciate the honesty and pressed on. “I gave him a little of a hard time, for not preparing Jaune for Beacon.”

“Gold was just trying to keep Jaune safe,” she said. “We all were.”

“I … it isn’t my place to argue your intentions for Jaune, I know,” Pyrrha said. “Jaune can do that for himself, if he wishes, but … Mrs.— Honeysuckle, do you know how Beacon Academy’s Initiation goes? Has Gold ever told you?”

Honeysuckle shook her head. “I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s the first test of new students at Beacon,” Pyrrha explained. “The means by which students are assigned partners and teams. And it begins by … catapulting new students off a cliff into the forest below.”

Honeysuckle paled. “Goodness me!” she cried. “That sounds—”

“It’s perfectly alright,” Pyrrha said quickly, “because we have something called aura that protects us from harm — up to certain limits, in any case — and because we have trained and so have strategies for how to land more or less safely. Except … except for Jaune.”

Honeysuckle covered his mouth with one hand. “Then how … how?”

Pyrrha clasped her hands together. “I … I stopped his fall,” she murmured.

“You?” Honeysuckle murmured. “You … you saved my baby?”

“That isn’t really the point of—” Pyrrha began, but was interrupted when Honeysuckle Arc enfolded her into an embrace.

“Bless you,” she said. “Bless you, my dear, now why didn’t you say that earlier? If you’d told me sooner that you’d saved Jaune’s life, I wouldn’t have been so … I would have been more supportive.”

Should I really have to tell you that I saved Jaune’s life? Pyrrha wondered. Especially when that wasn’t what I was getting at in the first place? But there seemed little point in arguing; it was all in the past now, and after giving Gold Arc an earful over it, then perhaps it would simply be churlish and rude to blast his mother the same way, especially since there was nothing that she could have done to prepare Jaune for Beacon — except, perhaps, to use her influence on her husband on Jaune’s behalf.

That seemed very petty and shallow grounds for criticism.

“Would you come with me into the kitchen, Pyrrha?” Honeysuckle asked, stepping back and out of the hug. “I needed to start getting a few things ready.”

“Of course,” Pyrrha murmured as Honeysuckle stepped around her and led the way, leaving Pyrrha to follow a couple of steps behind. Her high heels tapped upon the wooden floor, and her skirt and underskirt rustled around her as she walked, and thus, she followed Jaune’s mother into the homely, well-appointed kitchen, where Honeysuckle bent down and began to root around in the spacious cupboards for pots and pans.

“Do you cook, Pyrrha?” she asked, as she placed a large pot down on the side with a metallic rattle.

“No,” Pyrrha admitted. “I … growing up we had servants to take care of that sort of thing.”

“'Servants'?” Honeysuckle repeated. “That’s not a word you hear very often any more.”

“Not in Vale, perhaps,” Pyrrha replied. “Although in certain circles in Mistral, it is still reasonably common.”

“Amongst…” Honeysuckle paused for a moment, “noble families, is that the right word?”

“Yes,” Pyrrha said. “Many — though not all — of the great families still employ some household staff to cook, to clean, to do laundry—”

“To do all the things that I do?” Honeysuckle said. “That sounds almost ideal.”

Pyrrha wasn’t sure how to respond to that; she couldn’t gauge how serious Honeysuckle was being in her answer, and thus had some difficulty formulating a response. Was she supposed to laugh? To agree? Was there a point being made that Pyrrha would be unable to be a proper wife to Jaune?

Admittedly, if they did move out of Mistral as she had promised Gold they would if Jaune were unhappy there, then she would have a steep learning curve, but … Jaune had had a steep learning curve at Beacon; it didn’t mean that either of them was incapable of learning something new.

But she didn’t want to say that in case she was taking it all too seriously.

Honeysuckle went on, “Aoko says that in a few years, we’ll all have robots to do all of these jobs for us. Or at least, she says that people in Vale will; I’m not sure they’ll catch on here in Alba Longa.”

“I think Aoko might be being a little optimistic,” Pyrrha murmured. “I know that there are some androids designed for personal service, but I’m not sure they’re common, even in Atlas — or at least, they weren’t when I was there last. I’m sure they’ll get there eventually, but perhaps not for a few years yet.”

“You’ve been to Atlas?” Honeysuckle asked. “You’ve travelled, then?”

“Not extensively,” Pyrrha replied softly. “I spent some time at Argus, at the combat school there, Sanctum Academy. I’ve been to various places in Mistral for tournaments and exhibition matches. I went to Atlas for a special match in aid of charity. And of course, I’ve been to Vale and Beacon.”

“Not extensively,” Honeysuckle said, chuckling. “I must say, dear, that certainly sounds pretty extensive to me. Although we have been to Anima a couple of times, for vacations.”

“Whereabouts?” Pyrrha asked. “Mistral?”

“No, we didn’t want to go anywhere near the big cities,” Honeysuckle said. “We camped in the woods near a place called Shion, do you know it?”

“No, I’m afraid not,” Pyrrha said, thinking to herself that it must be a reasonably small place, for she had travelled to tournaments and matches in most well-sized settlements throughout Mistral.

“We got a lot of strange looks when we came back, everyone staring at us as though we’d brought back a disease; it took a while for it all to settle down,” Honeysuckle said. “I think that’s where Saphron got the idea that she wanted to move out there to Argus.” She paused for a moment. “But we had a good time, even if Jaune did have to come into our tent because the girls wouldn’t leave him alone. Jaune…”

She sighed. There was another pause, longer this time, before she said, “A son is a son until he takes a wife, but a daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life. Do you know that saying?”

“No,” Pyrrha admitted. “I’ve never heard it before.”

Honeysuckle turned away from her, leaning upon the sink. “Last night,” she said, “I … did Jaune tell you what passed between us last night?

“No,” Pyrrha said. “But I think I might be able to guess.”

“You’ve been very polite about it, if you’ve guessed right,” Honeysuckle said.

“I…” Pyrrha hesitated. “I would prefer to win your good opinion than to win an argument.”

Honeysuckle looked at her. “Why?” she asked. “You’re the princess of Mistral—”

“I’m not really—”

“You’re famous, you have a house full of servants back home in Mistral … and you have Jaune’s heart. What does it matter to you what an old woman in some out-of-the-way backwater thinks?”

“It matters a great deal to me what Jaune’s mother thinks,” Pyrrha replied.

Honeysuckle smiled sadly, “A son is a son until he takes a wife,” she repeated.

“Jaune and I aren’t married,” Pyrrha reminded her. Yet.

Honeysuckle’s smile became a little less melancholy, as she said, “When I stood in this kitchen with Jaune and tried to tell him that he … that he wasn’t to go back to that school and that he ought to forget all about you, an outsider, someone who didn’t belong here … he said no. In all his life, Jaune has never said no to me like that before. He told me … he told me that if I didn’t drop it, he’d leave. That if I made him choose, he would choose you.”

“I’m sure he meant that he would choose Beac—”

“Don’t be modest, dear; it doesn’t suit a beautiful girl like you,” Honeysuckle told her. “You’ve got him hooked. From now on, what you think and what you want will always matter more to him than what I think or what I want. You’ve got his heart … so please don’t break it. It’s such a good heart; it always has been.”

“I know,” Pyrrha murmured. “And I have every intention of holding onto it, firmly but gently.” As I hope he will hold mine in return.

Honeysuckle smiled sweetly at her. “I’m sorry that we got off on the wrong foot last night. When Jaune showed up with a pretty girl on his arm, I ought to have been overjoyed, considering how often I worried about what would become of him when his father and I passed away. Instead—”

“It hardly matters now,” Pyrrha said softly. “It’s passed and behind us both.” She bowed. “My name is Pyrrha Nikos, and I am delighted to meet you, ma’am.”

She did not see Jaune’s mother approach, but she felt her hands, raising Pyrrha’s head up, and she felt the kisses that Honeysuckle planted on her cheeks.

“Honeysuckle Arc, my dear, you can call me Honeysuckle,” Honeysuckle said. “Pyrrha, that’s a very pretty name, what does it mean?”

“It means ‘Flame coloured’ in Mistralian,” Pyrrha said, reaching up to play with her hair with one hand. Apparently, it had been so vibrant even when she was a newborn babe.

Honeysuckle chuckled, “It suits you very well, obviously. Now, tell me everything about how the two of you have gotten on; I want to hear all the details.”

---

The door to Violet’s room was painted, well, violet. It was also closed.

Jaune stood in front of it, and knocked on it. “Violet?” he called. “Are you in there?”

There was no answer for a moment, then Violet said, “Is Pyrrha with you?”

“N-no, she isn’t,” Jaune said. “Listen, can I come in, I want to talk to you.”

There was another pause before Violet said, “Okay.”

“Great,” Jaune said, and he opened the door. Violet’s room was not too big — as the youngest children in the family, she and he had been stuck with the smallest rooms by simple virtue of the fact that the big rooms were already taken by their older sisters — with a childish wallpaper of blue with yellow stars that probably should have been replaced by now. A grey stuffed bunny rabbit, a little the worse for age and wear, sat on the bed next to the pillow, and on the bed — crushing the purple quilt a little beneath her — sat Violet with a book in her lap.

She didn’t look up at him.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey, Jaune,” Violet muttered.

Jaune frowned a little as she sat down on the bed beside her. “What are you reading?”

“It’s about a happy, kind princess who lives in a castle,” Violet said, still not looking up at him. “Her father dotes on her, and she’s engaged to marry a handsome prince who loves her, and everyone adores her.”

“Sounds nice,” Jaune said. “Does she live happily ever after?”

Violet shook her head. “On her wedding day, she hides in an old oak chest in a hidden room in the castle, only the chest locks, and she can’t get out again. Her body is found fifty years later, a skeleton in a wedding dress.”

Jaune winced. “That’s … unfortunate. Why would she want to hide in a chest on her wedding day? Why at all but on her wedding day?”

“I think it was supposed to be a prank, to frighten her husband and father and the guests a little bit.”

“She wasn’t that kind then,” Jaune said.

“She liked to tease,” Violet said. “She liked to tease too much.” She shut the book. “I suppose not every story can have a happy ending.”

“I guess not,” Jaune murmured. “But that one … I don’t know, even if someone did like to tease, it all just seems a little unbelievable to me. Like, how did she know about the secret room but no one else did? I think that they should have found her in the nick of time and gotten her out of the chest.”

“Then what would be the point in that?” Violet asked. “If she doesn’t die, then the story doesn’t mean anything; it’s just…”

“A little scary for her father and her husband, just like the prank was meant to be,” Jaune replied. “A little scary for her too, stuck in that chest. A little scary, a little seems like it might get dark, but then it all turns out okay in the end, like all good stories should.”

“Hmph,” Violet snorted. “But not all of them do.”

Jaune was silent for a moment. “Have you been to see Miranda since she came back home?”

“No,” Violet said. “Why would I?”

“Because she’s your friend, or she used to be,” Jaune said. “And because I think that maybe she could use a friend right now.”

“Like you said, she used to be,” Violet said. “Then she left.”

“And that’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” Jaune asked.

“What?” Violet asked. “I don’t know—”

“Yes,” Jaune said, “you do. The way you act around Pyrrha, the way you talk to her, even after Sky and Rouge and even Mom changed, you’ve just kept on … picking at her. But if your problem is that I left, then take it out on me, because I’m your problem, not Pyrrha; Pyrrha has nothing to do with it.”

“Doesn’t she?” Violet demanded, and now she looked at him, whipping her head round to stare at him with her big blue eyes.

“Pyrrha’s not the reason I left,” Jaune said.

“But she’s the reason why you won’t come back, isn’t she?” Violet replied.

Jaune was silent for a moment. “She’s … Pyrrha is a pretty big reason for that,” he admitted. “But she’s not the only reason.”

“But she is a big reason,” Violet insisted. “Because you … because you don’t want to be parted from her. Because you … because you love her.”

Jaune nodded. “That’s right. That’s all right. I wouldn’t be parted from Pyrrha, not for anything, not for lien or glory or anything else that you could offer me. Because I love her.”

Violet was silent for a moment. “Do you remember … do you remember when you and me and Miranda used to hang out?” she asked. “Do you remember when we hid under one of the tables at River’s wedding and just read?”

Jaune smiled. “Yeah, I remember. I remember Mom was so mad when she found out.” He chuckled. “I suppose we were lucky we only hid under a tablecloth and not in a chest, huh?”

Violet snorted. “If we had hid in a chest and nobody could find us … would they have even bothered to look?”

“Things weren’t that bad,” Jaune said.

“No,” Violet replied. “They weren’t that bad because you were there, and Miranda … and then you both left. You both went off to Vale, and you left me here.”

“I … Violet, I didn’t … I had to go.”

“Why?”

“Because if I hadn’t gone, then I would have missed my chance.”

“So what?”

“So what?” Jaune replied. “Violet, this … this meant everything to me. You were … you and Miranda were the only ones I even dared hint about what I was going to do. Because you were the ones that I trusted, because you were the ones that I thought would understand. You knew that I wanted to leave, and you knew that I wanted to … okay, it sounds stupid now that I wanted to be a big hero like in the comic books, but even so, it was what I wanted. Should I have stayed and been unhappy for—”

“For me?” Violet asked. “No, of course not; I’m not worth it.”

“Violet, I didn’t mean—”

“I thought that you would always be there for me,” Violet declared. “But then you left, and even now that you’ve come back, you’ll be going away again, and … it’s her. You’re with Pyrrha now, and … and she’s the one you’ll always be there for.”

She turned away again, but the fact that she wiped at her eye with one hand gave Jaune a pretty clear idea about her expression.

Gingerly, tentatively, he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I … Violet, I’m sorry if you thought that I abandoned you—”

“You did abandon me!” Violet snapped.

“Okay, I guess I kind of did,” Jaune admitted. “But that’s still not Pyrrha’s fault, so even if you hate me for what I did, could you please try and be a little nicer to her? For…” He realised that asking ‘for my sake’ might not carry much weight with Violet anymore. “Please?”

Violet didn’t say anything for a little while. “How is it that you’re able to stand up to everyone now? Sky and Rouge and Mom? Sky and Rouge were going to make you stay, they were going to tell you how it was, and you were going to sit down just like you always did. Only … you didn’t.”

“I guess … I guess I grew up a little, at Beacon.”

“Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”

“It isn’t really much like I dreamed it would be at all,” Jaune admitted. “The only part where I can even kind of say that my dreams came true is … well, is Pyrrha.”

“Perfect Pyrrha,” Violet muttered.

“Please stop,” Jaune begged. “If you’d just give her a chance, try to get to know her … she’s beautiful, talented, kind, brave, smart. I couldn’t find anyone else like her in a hundred years, even if I wanted to.” He paused, and a sigh escaped him, leading him to sag forwards just a little. “Everything else … it turned out to be a lot different than how I thought it would be. But at the same time … it’s better. What I thought it would be was just a dream, but I’ve found something real, something that matters. What I’m doing matters.” Again, he paused for a moment. “Violet, what is it that you want to do? What do you want? If you could do anything at all, go anywhere, be anyone, then what would it be?”

“What I want?” Violet repeated. “What I want is … what I’d do is…”

“Violet?”

“I can’t tell you,” Violet said. “What would be the point?”

“The point is that you can tell me,” Jaune insisted. “The point is that you can’t just say that it won’t happen so why bother trying. Violet … if there’s something that you want, you have to fight for it, even if it means leaving home, even if it means taking risks, because I can tell you, from experience, that if you take that risk … the rewards are so, so worth it. So come on, spit it out.”

Violet hesitated for a moment, and glanced furtively at him, before she murmured, “I … I’d like to go to Mistral,” she said.

“It is beautiful,” Jaune said. “But what would you do there?”

“Study, at the Imperial College.”

“Study what?” Jaune asked.

“Myths and Legends, History, Literature, Old Mistralian, anything they’d let me,” Violet said.

“Then do it,” Jaune said. “Work for it, get there, get a place, get to class, just do it! Don’t sit around here wishing that you could, because before too long, that will turn into sitting around wishing that you had.”

He put one arm around his younger sister.

“You’re right,” he conceded, “we’ll never be as close as we used to be. Not because of Pyrrha, but because I’m far away now. But if you get yourself to Mistral, if you go down that road, if you follow your own dreams, the way I followed mine, then you’ll find people who are closer to you than we ever were to one another, people who choose to be close to you, to be like a second family to you.”

“Like the other girls in that picture you sent to Mom?” Violet asked.

“Exactly,” Jaune agreed. “They’re out there somewhere, waiting for you; you just have to be willing to take that first step.”

Violet leaned against him. “But what if they don’t let me go?” she asked.

“Then run away in the middle of the night, like I did,” Jaune said. “Don’t take that seriously, by the way, Sky and Kendal would kill me.”

Violet laughed. “I love you, Jaune.”

Jaune squeezed her a little tighter. “I love you too, little sister.”

Comments

[Mister Morden]

Pyrrha gets the approval of Jaune's parents, huzzah!

Jaune helps out Violet!

Good chapter, but how long until Sunset arrives?

[Scipio Smith]

11318334
So, the next chapter closes out this stage of the arc, at which point we're going to take a bit of a hiatus for a few weeks, coming back with a bit of a jump back in time to the promised meeting between Ozpin and Ruby; then there is some stuff with Sunset and Ruby, some stuff with Cinder, all of which takes up four chapters with the fifth chapter being Sunset's arrival in Alba Longa.

[Mastermind4892]

This chapter is even better than the last! Pyrrha finally gets to speak to Jaune’s parents herself and make a good impression! And we finally also get to the heart of Violet’s own issues as well! I love it!

And Jaune’s inspirational speech to Violet is truly right from the heart. “Life’s not a spectator sport; if you keep watching, then you’ll watch your life go by without you.”

[Web of Hope]

11318358
'This stage of the arc'😂

[RedDog5207]

11318358

Thanks for letting us know in advance what to expect. I really appreciate it.

P.S. Any chance we'll still be seeing trouble caused by Reuban's jealousy and misplaced pride.... and the after effects of Alba Longa's complacency? Reuban stirring up a Grimm-hunting posse sounds like a recipe for disaster later on, despite Sky being against it.

[Lancerguy]

And now it's meet the parents time, almost as wonderful as meet the family. Also, what a great sibling moment between Jaune and Violet, although I have to ask if she was intentionally written this way. She is a young girl, with a motif based on purple, who had one friend growing up that ended up leaving and going far away to school, which made her extremely bitter and resentful to a possibly unhealthy degree. At least she didn't completely break down and impose a marxist cult of personality on Alba Longa after Jaune left.

[Snowdrifter]

11318511
...yet.

[RedDog5207]

11318358

I was wondering, is this meant to be the week where we get an update on Wednesday? I forgot the dating for that.........

[Scipio Smith]

11319333
No, that was last week, the next chapter will be on Friday.