Hey all, So I'm doing some actual writing on this account now. Mind boggling. My IRL friend got on my case about how much fanfiction I used to write on my old account–and how much he liked it and how it's disgusting that I just read these days.

So, I'm reintroducing a story rotation because of that guy.

I decided to go with RWBY, since it's one of my favorite fandoms. This is supposed to be a bi or tri weekly updated story–because of how large the chapters will be–but until I flesh out a full rotation...(I only have one other RWBY story in the works right now) I may update more regularly.

This is a serious story, with dashes of humor, pinches of feels, plenty of action, and a generous serving of plot. I'm also working on a fun story which I should post soon, possibly even tonight.

And a slower fluffier piece in the future.

I still occasionally get messages about A Yandere's Worst Nightmare which, while flattering, I'm fairly certain I won't be pursuing. I think it stands best as a fun four part-that's because much of what I had planned for that story now seems like it would detract from the flawed but fun piece as a whole.

This story is White Rose-ish and also features a Jaune ship which is–secret. Not that I haven't decided yet or anything–it's a secret. I definitely know what it will be. It's just a secret right now because I know and I don't want you to know but I definitely know.

For sure.

So, without further ado:

The Shield of Vale

The Flake and the Flower Fall

Thirty Seconds Before Departure

Blood. Black. Dripping.

Teeth. Snarling. Tearing.

Burning. Panting. Killing.

Jaune was in pain.

His body ached. His soul wept. His limbs shuddered.

He screamed as he cut down enemy after enemy, enraged by their persistence–but also his own impotence.

No matter how strong he grew...

No matter how many enemies he slew...

It was all a little too late wasn't it?

###

He hadn't been skilled enough to save Pyrrha. She died by Cinder's hand.

Now? Now, he could dispatch the Cinder from those days without breaking a sweat.

But it was too late.

He hadn't been quick enough to catch Ren. The tea-loving martial-artist was ripped apart in a sea of red eyes and white claws.

Now? Now, he could slaughter those Grimm with calculated indifference.

But it was too late.

He hadn't been strong enough to stop Nora when she decided to follow her best friend off the ramparts. He did not see Valkyrie's fate. The hammer wielding eccentric had knocked him out.

Now? Now, he would have caught Nora's elbow, thrown her back, and saved Ren himself.

But it was too late.

Damn it! Why had he been so weak when it mattered? Why could he not summon the necessary strength when the tides of war had not yet been set?

If he had his current power at the beginning of the war...

Perhaps he could have helped Yang when she stayed behind to buy time for civilians to escape.

Instead he had returned to the attack site a day later to find her beaten, broken, and lifeless. Just one more victim of that monster, Hazel.

Perhaps he would have noticed Blake's intentions before she decided to go after the mysterious enemy queen. Her self-assigned assassination from hell, a suicide mission from every perspective.

He should have known she would internalize Yang's death more than the girl on whom he lavished comfort–Ruby.

Blake was breaking inside–more than the rest of them.

And he missed it.

He freakin' missed it.

Watery, bloodshot eyes and a pasted smile was the last Jaune saw of Blake.

Well...

It wasn't the last he saw of Blake.

It was, however, the last time he saw her alive.

When he, Ruby, and Weiss challenged Salem, five years after Blake's disappearance, the queen of Grimm had smiled and produced a set of distinctly feline ears, severed from their owner, explaining that she found them lying around, asking if the trio recognized them.

Jaune, Ruby, and Weiss were psychologically defeated before the battle even began.

Rage, sadness, and misery do not level-headed fighters make. If not for Weiss's glyph wizardry the group would not have escaped to die another day.

###

Twenty Minutes Before Departure

Jaune roared as he ripped Crocea Mors through the bellies of three Ursas. The monsters vanished in a flash of soot and smoke. His aura deflected a rogue paw swipe towards his face. He still felt the blow a little. Ursas hit hard.

He should have paid a bit more attention to the trajectory of that swing.

Normally, killing a few Ursa without taking any damage was a walk in the park. He would sever limbs and heads in a blur of lightning fast slashes, decimating his mindless foes before they could muster their first attack.

But his last battle with Salem had shredded Jaune's beloved blade, leaving him with a razor sharp, foot-and-a-half-long stump.

The change in weight, range, and overall maneuverability complicated his customary fighting style. A shorter blade meant larger steps, reaching further, and swinging harder. So a claw he would usually have avoided with a quick lean back, now required a full-fledged back-pedal.

Weiss had recommended he swap out his family heirloom for one of the various other weapons strewn about various battlefields of the four kingdoms.

The suggestion irritated him.

Hers wasn't an unreasonable or illogical recommendation. Nor was she unempathetic when she made her opinion known. Jaune knew the heiress had swapped out Myrtenaster with Myrtenaster II, III, and IV since the war began. And retiring each of her weapons had been an emotional occasion, a few choice tears slipping down the cold girl's cheeks.

Jaune should have been willing to do the same. He knew that. It was all for victory. To finally win this hellish war.

But...was winning the war even possible? Did winning the war even matter?

###

Salem had taken the kingdoms. First Vacuo, then Atlas, and then Mistral. In the beginning Vale had looked as if it would fall first, but, thanks to the courage of a few elite hunters, it had stood the longest, a single beacon of hope as Grimm flooded the continent.

But now, even Vale had been consumed.

The Grimm showed no mercy as they ravaged the world. They did not leave a single human or faunus alive. The monsters could sense fear through walls and bunkers and detect despair through gates and fences.

And they did not tire from spilling blood.

Their victims could hide. But they would soon be found. They could run. But they would quickly be caught.

When Vale had been on the brink of extinction, the verge of a massacre that would end the lives of every single citizen, and the few refugees who had managed to seek asylum in the flailing country, the few huntsmen who remained, Jaune, Ruby, and Weiss included, decided to make their final stand against Salem.

It was a battle that would go down in history.

At least it would have, if Jaune, Ruby, and Weiss–still technically students since they had yet to graduate from Beacon–had not been the only survivors of the fight.

They had grown so much. They had gained so much power.

But it wasn't enough against Salem's near cataclysmic might. She hadn't been so strong in their first and second clash. In fact, in a blind rage, Ruby had nearly overpowered her in the second–after she watched Grimm devour her uncle and father.

But with each fallen kingdom Salem grew more powerful, drawing energy from the darkness spreading across the world.

By the time seventeen bedraggled hunters–the very last of their kind–challenged her for a third showdown she was already in complete control of several legendary Grimm and her personal power had increased at least threefold.

Could they have defeated Salem if she was alone?

Perhaps.

They had trained endlessly, night and day, for ten years, with relentless determination–pushing bodies and semblances to the upper boundaries of human possibility and then beyond those bothersome limits.

But it was a mute question.

Salem was not alone. Sure, her human subordinates were gone, many cut down by the last members of JNPR and RWBY themselves. But Salem hardly needed to lift a finger when she rode a mountain-sized Dragon and commanded a Nuckelavee as fast as Ruby in her younger days and capable of speech.

Speech.

As in the Grimm spoke.

The fiend taunted, laughed, and jeered. When Weiss finally managed to seal its movements Jaune took great pleasure in watching Ruby cut the monster in two.

But then still, there was a herd of goliaths, a nevermore almost as big as a Dragon, a Dragon bigger than it had any right to be, and a swarm of Beowulf's that were under the control of the largest alpha Jaune had ever seen.

Glynda Goodwitch died taking down the Dragon and the nevermore in one of the most incredible displays of power Jaune had ever seen. The copious amounts of fire dust the group had brought along aided her spell casting of course, but her wrath was no less spectacular. Cardin Winchester was slain by the alpha Beowolf, almost willingly, perhaps anxious to join his wife and unborn child in whatever afterlife death provided.

The rest of their company died fighting the Nuckelavee or the goliaths.

Eventually every single one of the ancient Grimm were put down. But by then Jaune, Weiss, and Ruby were alone.

They were the last shards of Beacon.

They were the last hope for humanity.

It was not an unexpected outcome. It was the same as the last two times they challenged the dark goddess. Rose, Arc, and Schnee. Team RAS.

They fought her like a well-oiled machine. Semblances complemented one another perfectly. Teamwork and execution was flawless. They fought unceasing and relentless.

They near brought her to a standstill.

But then, a few hundred miles behind them, Vale fell. The last free kingdom slipped into darkness. And Salem's strength doubled once again. With a single chop of an open hand she broke Jaune's sword, just as she had to Myrtenastar so many years ago, after showing the team Blake's stolen appendages.

It was Weiss who got them out. She used the last of her strength to cast a teleportation glyph that transported the three of them a mile or two away. And then Ruby used the last of her energy to carry them another four or five miles at break neck speed, up into the mountains.

When both women had collapsed from exhaustion Jaune picked them up, slinging one over each shoulder. It was cold. The snow was deep and walking was exhausting and cumbersome. But he could scarcely remember the days when the weight of his two companions would have troubled him.

He walked for hours.

Where was he going?

He wasn't sure at first.

How could he be? He barely knew where he was.

But before long he recognized the direction his feet were pointed. He allowed the tugging in his soul to take over his limbs.

He had to move quickly. Whenever a kingdom was about to fall all the Grimm on the continent surged towards its main cities. Which meant, for a little while, his destination would be blissfully free of Grimm.

Jaune stuffed down the flutter of confusing emotions blossoming in his stomach. Now wasn't the time to feel anything unnecessary.

Although he allowed himself the smallest of smiles.

After nearly eleven years...

Jaune Arc was going home.

###

Three Hours Before Departure

Jaune swore as more Grimm surged into the bottle neck. The walls surrounding him, made out of debris from Jaune's home village, creaked ominously. Would they topple? Raining down several thousand pounds of cement, metal, and wood on the barrier's occupants?

He hoped not.

But there was no way to really know was there?

Besides.

He couldn't afford to waste a shred of his mental concentration. Not when he could be fighting Grimm for the rest of the day. He couldn't afford to run on autopilot when he had to carefully conserve energy.

"Weiss! Are you done yet?" barked Arc.

"Stop bothering me or come over here and do it yourself," replied Weiss from somewhere behind him. A shrill venom laced her voice.

Jaune kept his attention on the next three Grimm approaching. Damn. Maybe he should have made the bottle neck narrower, so only one Grimm could approach at a time. Three at a time had seemed like an easy feat for a huntsman such as himself when he was constructing the walls. But he had failed to consider the true toll of fighting three easy Grimm every fifteen seconds for four hours straight.

"Patience is a virtue Jaune," chirped Ruby with that dark self-aware cheer she had developed, as if she were a satire of her past self.

"So is helping your friends fight against endless streams of Grimm," he responded.

"I'm busy Jaune," Ruby whined. "Weiss needs my help."

Jaune scoffed, hacking the right arm off the nearest Beowolf. "You don't know a damn thing about glyph construction Rose."

"Sure. But I'm her muse. Right Weissy? I inspire you, don't I? When I'm at your side your brain works faster doesn't it?"

"Of course, love, whatever you say." Weiss replied automatically.

"Whipped," muttered Jaune as he killed the remaining two Grimm.

"What was that you mumbling moron?"

"Nothing snow-angel."

The Schnee heiress had long ago abandoned anger over Jaune's choice nickname for her. Once upon a time she would have told him to stop being over-familiar. But considering the hell they had endured together for nearly a decade–there weren't many acts of over-familiarity left.

"Do you really need to tag out?" asked Ruby. No trace of jest remained in her voice.

The young reaper had become jaded, a cynic, detached from most everything around her.

So had Jaune.

So had Weiss.

They had each developed their own twisted sense of comedy, a willingness to find humor in even the bleakest of circumstances. They couldn't take many things seriously. They couldn't afford to. Not now. Not when hope was in too little supply.

Still there was one thing they never took lightly.

Each other's lives.

They'd lost too much. They were greedy now, unwilling to lose even one more precious thing.

"I'm fine," answered Jaune. "If I need to catch my breath I'll just body block the Grimm and let my aura take some hits."

Weiss made a disapproving noise. "You should refrain from allowing your obnoxious aura reserves to perpetuate bad habits."

Jaune snorted as he slammed Crocea Mor's pommel into a Beowolf's face, shattering the Grimm's bone mask. A second blow caved in the creature's head. "You're right princess. I'd hate to set a bad example for all the little future huntresses and huntsmen looking up to me."

"You know Jaune, if Weiss can pull this thing off, you might actually have some little future huntresses and huntsmen looking up to you soon," said Ruby, chuckling.

"Oum, I hope not," replied Jaune, as he split the head of a Boarbatusk before it could charge. He caught the downward strike of a lumbering Ursa on his fractured shield, a shower of sparks sprung forth as claws scraped metal. He severed the Ursa's limb with his counter. "I don't think I can put up with brats anymore."

"You had better get over that inhibition," said Weiss. "You know the plan."

"Yeah. Yeah. I know the plan," replied Jaune with a dismissive shrug.

"Repeat the plan," said Weiss.

Jaune groaned, watching the next three Grimm approached. He was tempted to turn and let Weiss watch him roll his eyes.

They had all changed since the world ended. But Weiss had changed the least.

As a student the Schnee heiress had been likely to explode when casually dismissed. She had mostly outgrown that trait. But Jaune was sure he could still rile her up a bit.

However, in the end, he decided not to to antagonize the woman. He kept his attention trained on the approaching Grimm–not because he was concerned for his safety or because he did not wish to annoy the Schnee–but because Weiss's back was probably turned towards him and her eyes were probably closed, focus narrowed on the complex glyph she was constructing.

He quickly recited what he believed to be the gist of their plan, "Amber, Qrow, Roman, kids, Ozpin, Cinder, Ruby" he planted his foot on the belly of an Ursa and pulled his broken weapon from its chest, "Ironwood, Adam, White Fang, Whitley, Schnees, moon, Salem, Grimm" said Jaune.

"I do not appreciate your abbreviated rendition of the plan Jaune. Also, you went out of order near the end."

"Not all of us have a... what does she call it Ruby?"

"Pathetic memory," chirped the brunette.

"Eidetic memory," corrected Weiss on reflex. Jaune did not need to turn to know that Weiss had cracked a single eye, fixing Ruby with a baleful glare. "Dolt."

Ruby laughed as if she had been called her favorite name. It was a rare kind of laugh to hear from one of their group. A genuine laugh of pleasure. Not just a breathy acknowledgment of some dark irony.

It was always a special moment for the group, hearing one another laugh. A real laugh.

Jaune enjoyed Ruby's laugh the most. Although he probably didn't enjoy the sound as much as Beacon's resident ice-queen. Weiss had always had a weak-spot for the cute and the adorable.

And the Ruby.

After, no doubt, taking a moment to compose herself, Weiss continued on her warpath. "All the more reason for you to recite the plan, in order, minus the brevity."

"Shouldn't you just focus on that glyph Weiss?"

"I am focusing on the glyph. Now recite the plan or so help me I'll speed up the time of the Grimm you're fighting relative to yours by a factor of three."

Jaune raised an eyebrow at that. She wasn't really threatening him. But he could tell she was serious by her all-business tone.

Ruby cackled.

"I expect a full rendition from you too Rose."

Ruby squealed. "Oh no! Not Disciplinarian Weiss! This isn't the bedroom, I can't afford to faint out here."

"Jaune, you are on deck. You are going first now dolt."

"Aw...c'mon Weissy, you're the only one who has to remember all of this stuff. Me and Jaune will just follow your lead."

"Recite. The. Plan."

Weiss's tone left little room for argument.

Jaune smiled as Ruby dutifully obeyed, explaining the finer details of the trio's complex and lengthy scheme.

###

"I'm sorry Jaune," said Ruby in a quiet voice.

Hers was the first noise to break the smothering silence–other than the repetitive crunch and snap of the debris underfoot.

Jaune exhaled roughly as continued to survey the remains of his birthplace. Several buildings still stood, dilapidated and damaged. But many more structures had collapsed entirely, broken into sharp bits and pieces by the feet of ten-thousand Grimm. There was evidence that some homes had been set alight, charred wood and sooty soil staining those areas. Had it been an accidental fire, caused by the former owner's haste in escape?

Or...

Jaune looked towards the sky. Had they fought a Dragon?

Or worse, several Dragons?

"Don't be sorry Ruby. I haven't lost anything more than anyone else."

"I know. But...it's just... after what happened to my family...I don't think I want to see what happened to Patch. I think it would hurt you know? So... Are you alright?"

Was he alright...?

He shouldn't be.

But was he? He just felt so...empty inside. Sadness, horror, surprise, what was the point of feeling those things?

He could feel some negative emotions tugging on his heart. There was some pain.

But Jaune's heart was hardened now, it was difficult to pin down what he was feeling or how strongly. He was so used to only allowing himself to feel rage–and even then, only when he was attempting the impossible.

As Jaune struggled to take stock of his thoughts and feelings so that he could give ruby a proper answer, he examined the town where he grew up. The roads he had ran along as a child. The stores and hangout spots he had wasted countless hours at.

It was all a rubble heap now.

No different from the other ruined cities, towns, and villages Jaune had traversed over the last few years.

Except it was different.

This was his home.

"It hurts," Jaune admitted, "at least a little. But its not as if I expected anything more than this. I had to come here though. I have to find...", he faded off before attempting to restart, "I need to get...", he tapered off again.

"Closure," it was Weiss who filled in the blank for him. "We came here for the same reason I dragged us back to Atlas are we not?"

When Jaune didn't reply she continued, "I knew the military had fought to the last man. And I knew there was no chance in hell my sister would abandon her fellow soldiers. I knew she was dead. I was certain of it. But I still had to know what happened to her. I had to see her fate with my own eyes."

Jaune did not verbally respond. But he was sure his face revealed just how deeply he was considering her words.

Weiss was right. Of course, she was right.

She was a freakin' genius after all.

The cool intellectual had been correct often when she was still a student.

But once she had grown up, gotten passed her ingrained prejudices, acquired friends, and learned more about people and the world around her...

Well, now, she was pretty much right one-hundred percent of the time.

He had seen the village. It looked as he expected it to. That was enough for him on that front. His friends, neighbors, first crushes–they had all died the way he had assumed they had.

The way he had imagined for years.

But there was still one place that warranted additional investigation, that cried out for his attention like a child separated from his mother in a busy store.

The Arc family home was located on the southern outskirts of the village. It was larger than most of the other homes in the village but, as Weiss mentioned upon their approach, a tad on the small side for a family of ten. Jaune corrected the blunt woman's word choice, informing her that the Arc home was cozy–cozy for ten.

Weiss was not impressed by his censoring.

Aside from that short conversation the group was quiet as Jaune inspected his childhood home.

The front door was missing. As were all of the windows on the first floor. There was a hole in the roof above, probably caused by some kind of flying Grimm.

As he approached the front porch he glanced down at the flower bed his mother had taken so much pride in. Nothing but weeds and crab grass remained.

Unbeckoned, a memory surged to the forefront of his mind, Willow Arc, on her hands and knees, working a small rake through fresh soil. She was planting... something.

It was times like these that Jaune wished he was born with the equal parts curse, equal parts blessing of Weiss's flawless memory.

The memory of his mother's hunched back was vivid. But everything else?

Not so much.

The floral print on her dress was comprised of those purple lillies she loved so much. He could make out those little flowers clearly. But when she stood and turned...

Her face was blurred.

He could make out her blue eyes–but that was only because he remembered he had gotten his eyes from her. Her lips, nose, brow, jaw, he could not remember any of those features. He squinted, as if closer observation would improve his recollection.

"Jaune?"

Jaune was broken from his reverie when Ruby placed a hand on his shoulder. Jaune realized he'd been staring at weeds and grass silently for more than a minute.

"Sorry, just...trying to remember something." With a shake of his head to clear his thoughts, he slowly approached his home's entrance.

The wooden porch creaked beneath him with every step. A a few splintered holes and missing planks added even more dubiousness to the structural integrity of the landing.

Jaune was assaulted by more vague memories as he passed the threshold of his home. Girls screaming, laughing, and fighting. His father's booming laugh. His mother's massive meals.

Weiss and Ruby remained quiet behind him. Leaving him to his thoughts.

Once plush carpet had been torn apart by claws, scratch marks stretched flooring panels beneath it all. More claw marks ran along the walls. There were tears in the ceiling, no doubt caused by larger Grimm with jagged spines protruding from their backs. Jaune traced two fingers along the fissure in the ceiling. When he withdrew his hand, drywall dust coated his fingertips.

The trail of wanton destruction led to an obvious destination.

The last door on the left, at the end of the hall, just before the living room.

The basement.

"Got a light?" he asked.

"Here." Weiss tossed a small item over his shoulder.

Jaune spotted the object out of his peripheral vision. He snatched it out of the air. It was a silver pen light.

"Thanks."

Jaune walked down the hall, ignoring the various memories attempting to stampede his calm. When the Grimm came, there was only one place his father would have chosen to fight from.

Jaune could envision it.

Mathias Arc would have watched the army of Grimm on the horizon, calculating his family's best chance for survival.

A hunter of pure pragmatism, Mathias would have made a quick decision.

Perhaps the swarm was coming from both sides. Perhaps they were moving too quickly.

If Mathias determined there was no chance of escape he would have sought out a defensible position. The basement of the Arc home would have had a natural appeal.

A year or so before Jaune ran away from home, he had helped his father convert their basement into a bunker of sorts. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all composed of solid concrete. There was one way in and one way out–perfect for bottle-necking a mob of Grimm.

Mathias, alone, could probably hold such a position for several hours. And if Crystal, Alana, or Sage were home–one of the other three hunters in the family–they could potentially hold the position for much longer. Three hunters, swapping to eat and sleep, could probably hold the stairs for several days, waiting for relief from Vale.

Relief that would never come.

Jaune took a deep breath as he pushed the button on Weiss's light, eliminating the shadows in the hall.

The basement door was split in two. The bottom half was absent entirely. The top half of barely hung on its rusted hinges, open wide, inviting exploration.

Jaune proceeded slowly, studying the long scratches along the stone walls. With each step, the stairs creaked beneath him, groaning after so many years of disuse.

His father would not have fought on the stairs. No smart huntsman would have. The footing was too insecure. Mathias would have waited for the Grimm to come to him, at the bottom of the stairs, sword drawn and eyes burning.

Jaune wasn't sure what he was hoping to find at the bottom of these stairs. That his family hadn't been home for the g-pocalypshe? It would only mean that they were dead somewhere else in Remnant. Perhaps he just wanted to see if his family fought well. To see how much time his old-man's–and his huntress sisters'–struggle against the Grimm bought the rest of his family.

Was he only here out of idle curiosity?

Jaune's foot reached the last step; he rounded the corner into the basement.

Jaune first noticed that he did not need Weiss's light. The basement was flooded with natural luminance

Strange. The level had been constructed like a bunker. Jaune certainly didn't remember installing windows.

Jaune stepped over fractured pieces of concrete, large and small, as he approached the source of light on the far side of the area.

A gaping hole, with a broad tunnel leading through dry dirt.

Well...

That was something his father probably hadn't considered.

The Grimm had burrowed through.

Jaune wondered how long his family had lasted once they were caught in a pincer. He forced his gaze away from the gap in the wall.

He looked to his immediate right.

His stomach performed some maneuvers it hadn't in years. Bile raced up his throat, a sign of what was to come.

After a few heaves, it came. He retched as what little food he had eaten that morning resurfaced, splattering at his feet.

There were footsteps behind him. Ruby and Weiss no doubt.

"Jaune are you...?" Ruby trailed off when she saw them.

Jaune's family.

All nine.

Nothing but dried bones.

Limbs were cracked and shattered. Spines from bodies. All injuries that the three of them had witnessed performed on living people by Grimm.

The Arc family had died horribly.

Jaune retched twice more, finishing off the contents of his stomach and then straightened, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. His eyes were watering. He didn't cry much from sadness these days so it was probably a side effect of throwing up.

Definitely a side effect.

"I...", his voice was hardly above a whisper, wavering a bit. "I guess they were all here."

"Jaune..."

Jaune turned to Ruby. Her arms were outstretched. Her wide eyes, sympathetic.

Jaune accepted her hug; although he was not sure he wanted it. They had all lost family. He did not deserve Ruby's pity. She had lost so much. As had Weiss. They had dealt with their grief and kept moving–he needed to do the same.

What was worse was that he had known, deep down, that his family was dead. He had known it with certainty. He had come to terms with it. He had learned to live with it. Yet for some reason this confirmation hit him like a goliath trunk. Did that mean that in the depths of his subconscious being, a small, faint, doddering speck of hope had existed? That he had unconsciously believed there was some chance they might be alive?

Jaune forced himself to look at their bodies again. Underneath the bones lay several weapons. A sword and shield, not unlike Crocea Mors, only generic, and the shield was a mecha-shifting weapon.

Then there was a pair of matching long and short swords, Artur and Merl, a gun that doubled as massive spear, Momma Pain–although Jaune was never certain if Sage was serious about calling it that–and a chain sickle contraption loaded with an absurd amount of firepower, Lead Whisper.

They'd gone down fighting.

As a hunter should.

As he would.

Weiss's voice snapped him from his thoughts.

"Where are the shovels?"

Jaune was taken aback by her question. Then he glanced at his family again.

Right. Graves.

"Tools are in the shed out back," he answered. He walked up to the hole in the wall. "Suppose there's a shortcut now."

Weiss and Ruby followed him up the steep dirt ramp.

There were a few shovels in his father's old tool shed but Jaune only withdrew one. Weiss and Ruby tried to convince him to let them help. But, to be frank, he didn't need or want their assistance.

Sure, they would make the job go faster.

But he didn't want the job to go faster.

He was going to dig nine graves. No mass burial for his family. He would dig nine graves. And, as best he could, make sure the right bones made it into the right grave.

And they weren't going to be shallow graves.

No.

He would dig his family full deep graves.

It would take hours for sure.

Maybe if he was lucky, it would even bite into the night.

Normally he coveted sleep where he could take it.

But not tonight.

Because the only way he would fall asleep tonight was if he worked himself to the point of total mental and physical exhaustion.

Even then, he doubted he'd get much shuteye.

###

Eight-And-A-Half Minutes Before Departure

Jaune was breathing heavily. He'd been fighting Grimm for nearly three hours now. The first two hours and forty minutes hadn't been difficult. When he'd been taking on a controlled flow of Grimm.

But now the beasts were climbing over the top of their makeshift barrier.

There was no rhythm to their entrance.

There was no cap to their numbers.

Jaune's eyes flicked across his battlefield. In an instant, he took a mental snapshot of the scene. It was a skill he had learned from fighting more than a dozen foes more than a thousand times. It allowed him to instantly register what he was up against, its current position, and the direction he was heading.

He'd have to do it every half second to stay on top of the fight. Which was annoying. But it was the best way to manage the battlefield. He could protect himself on adrenaline and awareness of his immediate vicinity. But to protect Weiss he'd need to stay aware of everything, at all times.

It was a skill befitting a leader.

There were two Ursa clambering over the wall on his left. Only their heads were visible so he had a few seconds before he'd have to deal with them. An alpha Beowolf was blitzing through the middle passage way, two betas hot on his tail. Another Ursa had tumbled over the wall to his right. He'd deal with it after the alpha. It hadn't made a move yet but it was only a matter of time. A few beta Beowolves were already on the ground, but they didn't pick up speed as quickly as an Ursa or an alpha so he figured he'd deal with them last.

Above him, Ruby was on aerial support duty. For most snipers, that would entail a strong defensive position from which to leisurely pick off targets.

Ruby, however, ran out of bullets long before.

So, instead, she flitted from Grimm to Grimm in a flash of cape and petals, Crescent Rose carving through charcoal flesh like butter.

Jaune returned his shield to its sheath form and kicked up a second sword from beside him. Holding the broken Crocea Mors in one hand and the unnamed sword from his basement in the other felt strange.

He rarely dual wielded offensive weapons. He was accustomed to rapidly switching from defense to offense. A two-bladed approach lent itself to a constant barrage of offense.

Against a stronger opponent he would never have strayed so far from his expertise.

But against numbers like these, killing with two hands was probably better than killing with one.

The alpha fell easily enough. Jaune pierced its shoulder with his unnamed blade, slowing its movement.

The Beowolf's unusual girth gave it more momentum than Jaune expected. Rather than stop the monster completely once his sword was buried up to the hilt, his feet still slid backwards as the Beowolf continued to charge. Before he was pushed back too far, he used Crocea Mors to sever its neck. He shouted as he swung, the feeling of his sword passing through flesh immensely satisfying.

As one Grimm faded another six approached.

Jaune's limbs were heavy. His shirt clung to his skin. And he could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his legs.

Jaune hadn't pushed himself like this in a while. Sure, he had gone all out against Salem. But that had been full throttle from the very beginning.

A sprint.

This battle was more of a marathon–a marathon that was gradually growing faster and faster.

How much longer could he maintain this killing pace?

He hewed off a Beowolf limb.

Spinning, he plunged his other sword into the chest of another Grimm.

He withdrew that blade and spun, catching the snapping jaws of a third Grimm in a scissoring cross-guard. He pulled back his swords, freeing the Grimm from the top half of its head. A guttural growl erupted from his stomach and traveled up his throat as he butchered one more enemy of humanity.

But he couldn't stop there.

The two Beowolves that were following the alpha split off from one another as they approached. Were they trying to run around him? To get to Weiss?

No chance in hell.

He hurled his undamaged sword to his right. It ripped through the Beowolf's neck. The death disintegration began immediately.

Jaune reversed his grip on Crocea Mors when he looked to his left. The damaged sword would fly like the other. The weight was all wrong. But if he put the right spin on it...

Jaune grinned as the ancestral blade scythed the Beowolf's legs out from under it.

Oum. There was something almost...medicinal about mindlessly killing mindless monsters.

Now. Which weapon should he go pick up first?

Probably Crocea Mors.

Definitely Crocea Mors.

A roar from directly in front pulled his attention. A charging Ursa. A big one too. And here he was, no sword.

He remembered the days when he would have panicked to see a charging Grimm while unarmed.

Hell.

He remembered the days when he would have panicked just to see a charging Grimm.

Now though...

Jaune deployed his shield and got low. The Ursa probably expected to bowl him over, pin him down, rip open his stomach.

Typical Ursa stuff.

The Ursa's roar transformed into a confused grunt as Jaune's legs exploded upwards, his shield ramming into the monster's chin driving it up onto its hindlegs. Another shove put the Grimm on its back.

Jaune did not hesitate to finish his opponent. He leapt atop the struggling creature, straddling it. He unlatched his shield, gripping his armament by its sides. He drove the sharp edge of his shield into the Ursa's throat, one, two, three times. He roared on the third strike. There was something bestial, something…predatorial, about killing a Grimm when it was pinned. Just as Grimm did to humans.

It was invigorating.

The head rolled.

Jaune Arc could do this forever.

Jaune stood, searching for his next victim. He was surprised to only see one Grimm left–its body already fading due to the ridiculously large scythe stabbed through it and seven or eight inches clear into the ground. Ruby stood atop her weapon, no sign that she was struggling to balance.

"Where'd the Grimm go?" panted Jaune. He glanced up. The sky was empty of threats as well.

"They're letting the bosses through," answered Ruby.

"The...bosses...?" repeated the swordsman.

An ear-splitting scream threatened to near rupture Jaune's eardrums. A half second later there was another scream in response. And then another. And another. And another.

Jaune swore.

Nuckelavee. At least five by the sound of them.

Another scream.

Make that six–or was that a repeat?

Either way, things were about to get...tricky.

"Weiss! How's that glyph coming along?"

Weiss didn't respond.

Jaune glanced behind him, concerned that one of the Grimm might have gotten around his defenses, mauling his team's distracted dust manipulator.

No such misfortune.

Weiss was standing stock still, back turned to him, Myrtenaster pointed straight into the air. A white glyph with traces of gold stood before her, big as a house.

She probably had not even heard him. Jaune repeated his question–louder this time.

If Weiss's shrill tone was any indication, she had heard him the first time. "I would be finished by now if you would just fight the damn Grimm quieter. Honestly, come–"

Ruby interrupted her. "C'mon Weiss, you heard the Nuckelavee. Could you throw us a bone here?"

Weiss's next words originated from behind clenched teeth. "I am working on it Ruby. Buy me as much time as you can. The gate could open any moment. I am close."

Jaune watched a large Nuckelavee approach down the middle of their choke. Its hooves kicked up small clouds of dust with every step. Its hungry lifeless eyes flitted between the two closest targets–as if indecisive about which it wished to kill first.

Jaune took stock of his aura. He didn't have a scroll to check anymore but he had a general idea where his gauge was pointed. He was full of the stuff.

Good.

He'd need it.

###

Ruby threw herself onto the bed. The huntress hacked and waved when she was assaulted by a thick plume of dust. "Ack! Weiss, I'm dying," Ruby choked.

"What did you expect?" asked Weiss. "Clean the bed."

In a flash of rose petals Ruby disappeared, as did the comforter, sheets, and pillow from the bed. She reappeared behind Weiss, lightly pressing her lips to the Schnee's cheek. "Whatever you say princess."

Ruby vanished from the heiress's side before Weiss could reply.

"I am not a princess... dolt," Weiss muttered.

"I know I am, but what are you?"

Ruby was back already.

"That was fast," said Weiss.

"Well I can shake out a blanket at the speed of sound so..." Ruby drifted off.

"Even several times the speed of sound if you so choose, correct?"

"Well sure," Ruby flitted over to the bed, beginning to stretch the fitted sheets across the mattress, "but I think that would be overkill."

Weiss helped Ruby stretch the sheets. "Your middle name is it not?"

"Overkill hasn't been my middle name for months now Weiss,"

"Oh?"

"Yep."

Weiss waited for Ruby to continue. When the woman kept working with a hum and a glimmer in her sterling eyes Weiss realized she was waiting for her to ask. She gave in with a sigh. "What is your middle name n–", began Weiss.

"Scythe-Lord," Ruby interrupted.

Weiss stared at Ruby blankly. "Scythe-Lord," she repeated back, not bothering to hide her disgust.

Ruby continued unperturbed. "Would you like to hear your new middle name too?"

"Ruby, don't you da–"

"Rapier-Mistress."

Weiss could feel her eye twitching uncontrollably. It hadn't done that in a while. "I swear to Oum Ruby, if you ever call me that–"

"You'll spank me with your rapier?"

"I will enforce a thirty foot perimeter restraining policy."

Ruby plopped onto the bed once the comforter was spread out. She began kicking off her boots. "Ooh! Abandonment play? Nice!"

Weiss sat down on the other side of the bed, methodically unlacing her shoes. "I blame Blake for whatever is wrong with you."

"You blame Blake huh?"

"Yes."

Weiss lurched when two calloused hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her down to her back. Suddenly she found herself staring into Ruby's wide, gorgeous, and playful eyes.

The Scythe-Lord's face was only a few inches away. Her breath gently caressed Weiss's hair, her features just as expressive upside down as they were right-side up.

"You don't take any responsibility for corrupting me?"

Weiss couldn't help but notice that Ruby was staring at her mouth. "None."

Her heartbeat was louder and faster as Ruby drew incrementally closer. "Not even a little?"

"Why should I?" Weiss whispered, her attention now focused on Ruby's pink lips.

"You know why," said Ruby, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. She moved even closer. Weiss could no longer see her lips. That was fine. Weiss didn't need to see her lips. She waited to feel them pressed against hers. The sensation was not forthcoming.

She felt only warm air against her–and that was it. The heiress knew if she lifted her head even a half-inch her mouth would meet Ruby's. The warm, needy, ravenous part of her wanted to do just that, capture and consume her languid rose in all her beauty.

But the Schnee in her demanded the last word. "I have no idea to what you are referring." Weiss lurched upward incapable of further resistance.

Her lips met nothing but air. Ruby had retreated to her side of the bed, curling up. "Well sorry for bothering you then. I must have mixed you up with some other Schnee who took my first...everything."

Weiss did not respond for a moment because she was afraid her voice would reveal that she was panting.

Panting.

Ruby Rose had left her panting.

The Schnee refused to admit defeat–even if she had been clearly beaten, so she quietly caught her breath. Even if–if!–some small part of her wanted to whimper Ruby's name in a needy whine.

"Jaune. He didn't look good just now. Did he?"

Weiss's train of thought performed a sudden track switch. The Huntsman's eyes had looked empty and dead as he bade them goodnight, telling them to use any bedroom.

Ruby had suggested they all sleep in a single room, for safety, side by side, like they did when in the wilderness. Jaune had shot down the idea, saying the two of them deserved some time alone, and insisting that all the Grimm were in Vale right now.

The room Jaune chose to sleep in was his childhood bedroom. There was a gaping hole in its ceiling, exposing the alcove to rain, dirt, leaves, and debris.

Weiss had begun to say that, perhaps, he should sleep in one of the other rooms. But Jaune had curled up on his bed, back to the huntresses, unmoving and unspeaking.

After Weiss shared a quick glance with Ruby, both huntresses had moved on, to find their own lodging.

"He just buried his entire family. He's allowed some grief," said Weiss.

"Do you think he'll get over it?" asked Ruby.

Weiss did not waste time thinking about her answer. She sat up, back rigid. "Of course he will. Jaune is strong." Quieter, she tacked on, "we all are."

"But don't you think," began Ruby, "he's a lot lonelier than we are?"

"Because we have each other?" questioned Weiss.

"Right," replied Ruby. "I mean, don't misunderstand me, we're all friends. And I love Jaune like a brother. And I would die for him. And I know he would do the same for me. I mean we all would, right? Die for each other?" Ruby rolled off the bed and onto her feet, pacing as she got into one of her fast-paced rants.

Weiss turned so she could watch her.

"But we've been together from the beginning." Ruby motioned from herself to Weiss. "And we've been together together for years. Jaune though...he hasn't had anyone like that. I thought he was getting close to girls a couple of times but..."

"They died," filled in Weiss, "they all died."

"It's like he's cursed," said Ruby sadly.

"Well, to be fair," said Weiss, rolling her eyes, "everyone died. Not just Jaune's love interests."

"I know. I know. But I was just remembering when dad and Uncle Qrow died. I spent the whole night crying in your arms."

Weiss nodded. She remembered Ruby's water stained faced, and her own shoulder, wet with tears.

"Now Jaune's going through the same thing. But he's alone...there has to be some way we can make him feel less alone!"

Weiss bit back the smallest of smiles. Ruby was older now, taller than Weiss and physically more mature in every way–save one.

Her face. She still had those adorable puppy-dog eyes and her brow still creased in the cutest way when she was deep in thought. Her lips had a tendency to pout when she was consternated–fuller now, but still more cute than sensual in Weiss's opinion.

Sure Weiss had seen Ruby's warrior faces now too. Her eyes hardened into merciless pools... Her teeth bared as if she had fangs... Hair pulled out of her face–to make it near impossible for her enemies to escape the power in her gaze...

Oum. Was she just as attracted to Killer Ruby as she was to Cute Ruby? Maybe even more so?

That would need some self-analysis later.

For now though...there was still one Ruby that trumped all the others. The Ruby that Weiss saw far too rarely.

"Are you suggesting a ménage à trois?"

"A what?" replied Ruby distractedly, continuing to pace.

"A threesome."

Weiss watched Ruby's reaction as the words registered. At first her eyes widened and her jaw unhinged. Then red surged up her neck, through her cheeks, around her ears and straight into her hair line. "A-a threesome!?" The woman sputtered.

Ah. Embarrassed Ruby. The most adorable of all the Rubys. It had been too long. See, these days simple teasing could not bring out that deep blush. She had grown too...mature. No. Ruby had to think that Weiss was serious. That was when she got nervous. For all her jokes about spanking and abandonment play, if Weiss actual were to brandish her rapier in the bedroom, she had little doubt Ruby would turn into a stuttering mess.

Weiss fought back a grin, keeping her face a mask with hardened Schnee discipline, as she continued, "a threesome, Ruby, is when three people–"

"I know what a threesome is Weiss," Ruby cried.

"Ah. Right, of course. It was your suggestion after all."

If Ruby could have turned redder she would have. In fact, she might have. "I wasn't suggesting a threesome!"

"Oh?"

"No!"

Weiss turned away from the reactive huntress, struggling to hide her amusement. After a few seconds Ruby spoke again, and the smile died on Weiss's lips.

"Do you think that would actually help him though?"

Weiss gawked at her lover.

The crimson faced huntress would not meet her eyes. Her gaze–which could literally melt elder Grimm, was magnetized to the floor.

"Well..." Weiss faded off. She had not expected to put actual thought into her proposition. "First, let me say, I was joking. The other day he patted my head. When I told him if he reminded me that I was short again–whether by word or deed–I would kill him. He apologized and said I reminded him of his sisters for a moment..." Weiss went silent as she continued to think.

"So...?" prompted Ruby.

"So...", continued Weiss "He may not even be capable of seeing us that way..."

"Really?" said Ruby, relief evident in her tone.

"But he is a man. And we are not his actual sisters. So I cannot pretend to know."

"Oh," said Ruby. Her voice sounded down, almost... upset.

Weiss tried to quickly formulate a list of potential reasons for Ruby's mood shift. Was it their inability to help Jaune? Was it Weiss's joke about the threesome? Was it...

"Would you...do it?" Ruby asked quietly.

"Do what...?" repeated back Weiss. But even as the heiress asked she already knew what Ruby was asking. The pieces had fallen into place.

"Sleep with Jaune."

Weiss winced. Her best friend sounded so uncomfortable and quiet. As if she was unused to dealing with whatever was happening inside of her. Weiss understood why.

Ruby was a lesbian.

Weiss was not.

She was just as attracted to the stomach under Ruby's shirt as she was to the stomach under Jaune's.

Well she was a little more attracted to Ruby's because it was, well, Ruby's.

Still.

A "threesome" with Jaune would likely be a very...one-sided and jealous affair.

Weiss felt a little queasy knowing she had suggested it–even if it was just a poorly considered joke. Weiss had heard that dealing with jealousy was sometimes difficult for the partners of bi-sexuals if they only swung one way.

Weiss had never seen much jealousy from Ruby, just affection and trust. And now the girl was trying to figure out how to cheer up her beloved friend–and measuring her own willingness to open herself up to crushing jealousy and heartache for his sake.

It was almost enough to make Weiss fall in love with the woman all over again–even if she did feel a little pimped.

"Ruby, I would do anything to help Jaune. Anything, except, trade your happiness for his. And because I firmly believe sleeping with him would do just that, I will have to say no. There isn't a chance in Remnant that I will ever sleep with Jaune."

"Oh? That's um..."

Weiss could tell by the way Ruby faded off that she didn't know whether to smile at Weiss or continue to worry about Jaune. The fencer decided to make it a little easier on her sweet hero. She stood and wrapped her arms around her.

"What Jaune needs is hope Ruby. And I think a plan will give that to him. Not sexy times with two women he probably sees as family."

Ruby brightened immediately. She wrapped her arms around Weiss's waist and leaned back, an easy smile gracing her features. "A plan to defeat Salem?" she asked, "do you have one?"

"I...well, I have an idea. It is, admittedly, a little farfetched. But, given Salem's current strength, it seems we are very much in need of a plan that goes beyond the...usual constraints of imagination."

"I'm all ears babe," said Ruby, shifting her weight suddenly to give the heiress's nose a little kiss.

"As you know my glyphs allow me to control...certain constants in our environments. Things like acceleration, kinetic energy, pressure, location..."

"Sure, sure," said Ruby, as she buried her face in the side of Weiss's neck.

Dear Oum, was she easily distracted.

Weiss stifled a moan when Ruby caught the sensitive skin on the side of her neck between her lips.

"Well, before she died, Glynda was helping me work on a new spell...mmm..."

"Some kind of crazy new attack?" whispered Ruby before gently biting Weiss's earlobe. From there she kissed down the heiress's jaw with feathered pressure.

"Of a kind," replied Weiss, eyes closed. "a method for undoing events via controlled temporal regression."

Ruby's ministrations halted. She leaned back. Weiss opened her eyes, reveling in the smoldering excitement burning in Ruby's eyes. The heiress had caused it. Her and her alone. On so many levels.

"Controlled temporal regression? Is that...?"

"Time travel?" said Weiss. "Yes it is."

Ruby tackled her onto the bed as she squealed. "Are you serious? Time travel?" Ruby grabbed Weiss's wrists, pinning them above her head with one hand. With her unoccupied thumb she stroked Weiss's scar lovingly.

"When am I not serious?"

"Well, you were just talking about a threesome."

Weiss huffed and looked away. "Of course I was not serious about that. In fact, I am a little peeved that you thought I was."

"Don't be peeved," Ruby placed a gentle hand on the side of Weiss's cheek, forcing her to look up at her. The brunette leaned down, pecking Weiss's lips lightly, "I just...panicked a little when I thought of sharing the most beautiful," a kiss, "amazing," another kiss, "incredible", and another, "woman in the world who's about to invent time travel."

Weiss's cheeks were burning by the time Ruby finished.

"I can't wait to tell Jaune." The reaper sat up happily.

In one fluid motion Weiss gripped Ruby's thighs and tossed her off. She rolled with the throw, so that by the time Ruby landed, Weiss was already on top of her. Her voice was sweet as she leaned in. "Well you will have to wait." She traced the outline of Ruby's jaw with a slender finger. "You are not going anywhere until I release you."

###

Twelve Hours Before Departure

This was it. The big day.

Jaune stared into his bathroom mirror.

His features were unfamiliar, foreign even. Sure, he still had the Arc eyes–blue as could be–and his nose and mouth hadn't changed much either.

But he was still a different man.

For one, his jaw was more prominent. There was no more baby fat and the tendons in his neck were more distinguished which lent credence to his jaw line. Additionally, there was a fine coating of stubble over his cheeks, which certainly wasn't there when he was still a Beacon fledgling.

There were a few more wrinkles in his brow too.

Oh yes. And there was the scar.

A band of red stretching from his left eye over his nose and down the right side of his face.

As a child, he had thought a facial scar like Weiss's would look cool. A testament to the fact that he'd been in a lot of awesome sword fights. A perfect lead into a "but-you-should-see-the-other-guy" kind of story.

Go figures he'd wind up with a burn scar wide as a bus. Cool scars were sharp white lines. They added character.

Like Weiss's.

Jaune snorted. What was he? A Schnee fangirl?

He stopped thinking about Weiss's scar and refocused on his own.

Damn it. His made him look like an Oumdamn flag.

He smirked at that thought. There was a time when Jaune would have been horrified by his disfigurement. But now, when it came to the lasting effect of injuries, all he really cared about was if they would inhibit his ability to fight.

Jaune touched the charred blemish. It was rougher than his unmolested skin and it itched occasionally. But, otherwise, it wasn't a hindrance.

For that, he was grateful.

Because he would have to fight today.

Probably quite a bit.

They had been preparing for nearly three weeks.

He and Ruby had built a ring of debris in the middle of town with one long funneled entrance. From a nevermore's point of view Jaune supposed the construct would look like a giant keyhole. The walls were about twelve feet high, which most Grimm could still get over–but only gradually. Overall, it was a pretty decent place for a final stand.

Weiss had been busy in her own right, scratching out equations on pen and paper, drawing glyphs...and muttering about the problem of "locating a fixed point of time based on a single non-temporal variable."

Jaune and Ruby had made the mistake of asking what she meant. They had received... well... an earful.

"Time is composed of an infinite number of infinitesimally small events," began the brilliant heiress, "unlike mass or force or energy, which have units of measurement based on precise natural reactions, time has always been measured generally, with human perception. Our most precise units of time–the ones that aren't based purely on perception–are cyclical in nature. A day is one rotation of the planet. A year is one orbit around the sun. An hour is one-twenty-fourth a rotation. If I want to release one thousand calories of energy in a blast I simply create my glyph with specific instructions to release the energy necessary to boil one gram of water a thousand times. When I modify relative time, I am simply inserting a multiplier on top of the infinite number of events that make up a moment. But to pick out a singular instant from among those moments and send someone back to it...? That is an incredibly complex dilemma. If I were to create a glyph with the same structure as that energy release but regarding the rotation of Remnant around the sun...I would not affect time I would be trying to reverse the orbit of the planet. Which is impossible. That is the problem Glynda and I managed to solve with some manipulation on the typical structure of a casting equation."

Jaune and Ruby shared a confused glance, already far beyond lost. The heiress continued, oblivious to their confusion, and probably talking more to herself than them at this point.

"The problem I am still faced with is finding a proper marker. I could use the position of the sun in the sky as a marker. But that would only allow me to select what time of day the portal opens at. There would be no way to guarantee what day the portal would lead to...you could step through to yesterday or a thousand years ago. Similarly, with the position of Remnant in orbit I could select a specific date in the calendar–but the portal could still lead to any year in history. Once again–you would travel to a random point of time. I need a proper marker. Distance traveled at a measurable speed will still work best–but the speed must be constant and linear. Rotation leads to repeat variables, and I cannot possibly measure with enough precision to note slight variations between circuits. If I had a lab I could use something like the distance a light particle travels, or the decay of an unstable isotope...but, without equipment, and without knowing that data off the top of my head, I will need something bigger, something that can be measured with math and the human eye..."

Ruby and Jaune had backed out of Weiss's makeshift office–Mathias Arc's old study–when Weiss had gone back to scratching notes and muttering to herself.

"Weiss is a little scary when she gets like this," said Jaune.

"Really?" hummed Ruby, "I think she's cute."

Jaune snorted. "You would."

Weiss's breakthrough came a few days later. It struck like a hurricane, while the three of them were laying in the unkempt grass behind Jaune's home, staring at a broken moon.

"Those pieces are eventually going to crash down here," whispered Weiss. She sat up suddenly, shouting, "the moon is eventually going to crash into remnant!"

"That won't happen for thousands of years," said Jaune rubbing his ear.

"It doesn't matter when they hit!" said Weiss, "Don't you see!? Measurable linear movement that has been ongoing for hundreds of years! It's the perfect marker! Scientists estimated that the Great Collision would occur two-thousand-two-hundred-thirty-six years in the future from our first year at Beacon! They've already done the precise measurements, which means I can measure time with the angle of decent as the pieces break off from the body of the moon!"

The heiress bolted to her feet. "How could I have missed it!?" She practically vanished she fled to her office so quickly.

"Ruby."

"Yes?"

"Your girlfriend keeps acting like even time travel should come naturally to her."

"What can I say? She's a Schnee."

"You know I could make myself scarce if you want to...relax her."

Ruby glanced at him. Jaune wasn't sure what he saw reflected in those silver eyes of hers–other than the moon that was. "Hey Jaune, you know, if this all works out, you'll be back in a world with available women. You gonna relax yourself?"

Jaune laughed at that, staring up at the moon. He hadn't thought much about that. "No. There's too much work to do when we go back. It'll be fine for you and Weiss, since we'll be traveling together for the mission and you all actually love each other. No one would judge you for that. But I can't afford to waste time, not even a single night. How could I sleep around when I could be spending that time saving Pyrrha, Ren, Nora, Blake, Yang, and everyone else?"

Ruby didn't reply for a few seconds. Finally, she said. "You could still do it once or twice."

"Not interested."

More silence stretched out between them. It continued for nearly twenty minutes. The two friends enjoying each other's company.

Ruby, of course, was the one who broke the streak.

"Jaune?"

"Yes?"

"Are you a virgin!?"

Jaune exited the bathroom. He picked up the sword he had rested on the wall. The weight was like Crocea Mors'. Made sense. His father would have sought out a weapon like the one he had grown up fighting with.

He proceeded downstairs. Weiss was sitting at the dining room table, sipping the last of the coffee they had managed to scavenge. He did not envy it of her. Ruby hated coffee. He didn't mind it.

Weiss needed the caffeinated beverage like oxygen.

"Where's Ruby?"

"Asleep," Weiss answered.

"Ah," said Jaune, sitting across from her.

"I have something for you," said Weiss, producing a leather-bound notebook from her lap. "I know you like to fight light, but I'd appreciate it if you could hold it for me."

Jaune accepted the notebook and flipped through it. Pages of notes, equations, glyph drawings. None of it stuff he could ever hope to understand.

When he sent her a questioning look she explained, "I'll need it when we get to the past and my hands will be occupied."

Jaune bounced lightly on his toes as he thought about what Weiss's hands would be occupied doing. "So...today...?"

Weiss gave a small nod, nearly imperceptible from behind her mug. She held the cup with two hands, raising the dish to her lips with something akin to reverence. Jaune noticed her grip on the cup tightening as she sipped, slender fingers tensing slightly.

"I can do it. I know I can," Weiss whispered.

"Is that what has you so tense? Well, more tense than usual?" asked Jaune. "Are you worried about whether you can actual open this time portal?"

Weiss eyed him warily. "Among other things."

"All these years and you still don't like talking about your feelings," said Jaune, cracking a grin.

"No, I do not," said Weiss, returning a small smirk.

Jaune leaned back, resting on the rear legs of his chair, hands behind his head. He began whistling.

"What has you in such good cheer this morning?" asked Weiss. "You are usually quite somber before battle."

"Well." Jaune's chair slammed into the ground. "I don't know. There's something nice about the finality of this one. When you start writing that glyph you're gonna attract the Grimm in droves. They're probably just about finished killing everyone in Vale, so there could be hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. We'll hold them off for as long as we can. If you get that glyph up and running then we'll be back home. We'll be in a world where everyone's alive and we can keep them that way."

"And if I cannot open the portal?"

Jaune shrugged. "We'll die as we lived, the most badass Hunter team in history."

"Dying does not bother you?" asked Weiss.

Jaune had to ponder his answer to that. Did the thought of dying bother him?

He supposed it should.

No, it definitely should.

But at the same time...

He was tired.

He was so tired.

But what was he tired of?

Life?

Survival?

Fighting?

"Not anymore. I mean, sure, my survival instincts are still intact. But I'm just so done with losing. I'm ready to die trying to win. Winning and surviving would be fine too. But no more of this 'living to fight another day' bullshit. Every time we've done that Salem's just gotten more powerful. More unstoppable. Everyone around me has put their life on the line to stop her. And they died when they couldn't. I say it's my turn."

"So you are willing to die to stop Salem," summed Weiss.

"Of course, aren't you?"

Weiss set down her mug, fixing Jaune with a calculating gaze. She steeped her fingers, resting her chin on her fingertips. "No. There are only two things in this world I am willing to die f–"

The heiress was cut off by a happy red blur. "Who's ready to kick ass today team WRJ!?" Ruby pronounced WRJ "retch", drawing said noise from the heiress.

"Ruby! I told you not to call us that!"

"Sorry Weissy, it's the only order that makes sense. Plus, you make a great leader!"

Weiss rolled her eyes. "Ozpin picked both of you to be team leaders not me."

"Ozpin wasn't perfect," countered Jaune, "if he was, we wouldn't be the last three people on remnant."

As light-hearted as Jaune had been when he said it, the laughter still died on his lips at the somber reminder of their circumstances.

Weiss reached for her coffee.

Ruby snatched it from her grasp and drank the last swallow. "Ack! That's disgusting Weiss! Did you put any sugar or cream in here?"

"Don't drink it if you don't like it!" roared Weiss.

Ruby seemed unconcerned when Weiss whipped out Myrtenaster IV. Weiss squinted at her lover, as if determining whether she would poke her with the pointy end. Finally, she decided against stabbing the cheerful reaper. Instead, she stepped back from the table and pointed her blade at the empty mug. A white glyph danced at her rapier's tip. After a second or two of concentration Weiss set down her weapon and picked up her steaming cup.

"Is that the same coffee that was just in your stomach!?" asked Ruby.

"Your stomach too," replied Weiss smugly.

"Ew! That's so gross Weiss!"

"It's not as if I simply moved the coffee from our stomachs back into my mug. I also changed the temporal state of the coffee back to seven minutes ago when I first made it. From the perspective of the coffee, it's never been drank."

Jaune tuned out his friends. Ruby was saying something about coffee not having a "perspective." Weiss was rolling her eyes...

The usual.

But Oum, if their younger selves could see how they had grown. How they could use their semblances now...

Well he imagined he would never believe it.

Ruby would probably faint.

And Weiss...well Weiss would probably claim her physics warping abilities were well within expectation.

Heh.

That would be something to see.

Who knew.

If Weiss could pull this off...

Maybe he would.

###

Thirty Seconds Before Departure

Blood. Black. Dripping.

Teeth. Snarling. Tearing.

Burning. Panting. Killing.

Jaune was in pain.

His body ached. His soul wept. His limbs shuddered.

He screamed as he cut down enemy after enemy, enraged by their persistence–but also his own impotence.

No matter how strong he grew...

No matter how many enemies he slew...

It was all a little too late wasn't it?

No.

No it wasn't.

Not this time.

This time there was a chance, a chance for him to save everyone. To save his family. To save his friends. There was nothing that could get in the way of that. No one who could stop him. The Grimm were coming in hordes now. He cut them down with something like indifference.

Crocea Mor's shield had warped as he continued to abuse it as a weapon. When it was clear it would no longer function he threw it aside, instead fighting with his broken sword and a dagger.

The Nuckelavee were, as always, a problem.

Two of the centaur-like creatures wrapped up each of his arms with their extendable tendrils. They were probably intending to hold him still while the approaching Boarbatusk gored him.

Rather than attempt to free himself he latched onto his bindings. With a tremendous yank he launched the Grimm towards him.

They went airborne.

Damn. Sometimes his own strength impressed him.

The Nuckelavee had only flew a few feet before Ruby beheaded them both. Jaune didn't quite see it happen. She was moving too quickly to track with his eyes. But his finely tuned senses could still detect her. The movement of the air, the sound of her semblance activating.

The Grimm parts on his arms disappeared in time for him to bring his dagger down into the Boarbatusk's eye. He screamed and laughed as the Grimm vanished.

Oum, why did everything hurt so much?

Why did everything feel so good?

"I have it!" screamed Weiss from behind him. "Get ready!"

What?

Jaune was drawn out of his bloody haze.

Had she truly done it?

"I am opening it now!" Weiss screamed.

Jaune chanced a quick peek over his shoulder.

Weiss was thrusting Myrtenaster into the ground, standing before the most dense and most intricate glyph Jaune had ever seen the woman cast. Thousands of interlocking and rotating parts danced. The luminescent circle was alive, throbbing with movement.

Jaune backpedaled furiously, hacking limbs off of the various Grimm that reached for him. Above the clamor of the snarling beasts he he heard the steady beating of two giant wings.

"Dragon!" Ruby cried, slowing down to back up next to him.

Jaune's grin grew manic. "Don't worry about the Dragon! If we get through the portal we can make sure this never happens!"

"It's open," cried Weiss.

"You go first," shouted Ruby, spinning her Crescent Rose before her in a deadly figure eight. "We'll cover you."

"I am not leaving until both of you are through!" Weiss shouted in response.

Jaune was vaguely aware of Ruby turning to face Weiss...

And then his world exploded.

###

Departure

Ruby turned, glancing at the love of her life. Weiss's back was turned, and her head was down. She didn't want Ruby to see her face, to hear her tears. Unfortunately for Weiss Ruby was just coming down after heavy semblance use. Her brain was working on overdrive. Her perception of time was warped and her reasoning faculties, which allowed her to judge her own momentum when moving at inhuman speeds, were currently on their most extreme settings.

Weiss's voice had cracked.

Ruby had heard it.

It could have been fear. There were a lot of Grimm around.

It could have been relief. The woman had just managed to crack time travel.

But Ruby knew enough about her girlfriend's mannerisms to recognize her slip for what it was.

Sadness.

Weiss wasn't coming.

But why...?

She couldn't.

It was the only explanation. Weiss couldn't keep the portal open and go through it at the same time.

Well then.

Ruby activated her semblance. The world slowed around her.

In a flurry of mind bending speed she grabbed Jaune and threw him into the portal, an ethereal window into another time, a time when Remnant was whole.

How she would love to see her sister, father, and uncle again. Who knew? Maybe she would now that Jaune was through.

Shouldn't the world change immediately now that he was in the past?

An important question.

But not as important as the woman she had stayed behind for.

She reappeared behind Weiss, to protect her back, cutting down a swath of nevermore feathers that had threatened to rip the Schnee apart.

"Ruby!?" Weiss gasped, looking over her shoulder. "What are you doing!? Go! I can't hold it much longer!"

"There's no way I'm going without you Weissy."

"Just go you dolt! Can't you see I am doing this for you!?"

Ruby sliced through three charging Beowolf's in one swipe and then stabbed straight down into an Ursa's head. "Sorry to spoil your plans Weiss but if we go down, we go down together. That's how it's always been."

Weiss wailed.

Ruby wasn't ready for the noise. She hadn't heard Weiss sob like that since Winter. "Cheer up Weiss," she activated her semblance, speeding around the heiress, killing anything that drew near. "Jaune's going to stop Roman, Cinder, Salem, and the Grimm. Maybe we'll just close our eyes, open them, and bam, it'll be like the war never happened."

Ruby slid to a halt dizzily.

Weiss's sob only increased in volume. "It doesn't work that way Ruby! I didn't have the power to make it work like that!"

"You mean...?"

"Exactly! So go! Go through the portal while I can still hold it!"

"Not a chance! I'm going to use my eyes Weiss so protect your–"

"Oh." Ruby's mouth formed a small circle as she felt the broiling heat.

Never take your eyes off the Dragon.

Such a simple rule.

How had she forgotten it now? Of all times?

The beast had flown directly above them, tucked its wings, and dove, rocketing down towards them far quieter than when it was in flight.

Now it's flames were a quarter-second away from embracing the two huntresses, its body was perhaps a full second away from crushing their remains. Her eyes would not stop the fire. With Ruby's semblance she could, perhaps, save herself and Weiss. Maybe. The Dragon was large. She'd have to go from zero to two-thousand miles per hour to avoid it at this point. And while she could possibly pull that off...

Maybe it was better to just...embrace the same fate her girlfriend had chosen...

Ruby activated her semblance.

But only to turn around and look at Weiss.

The heiress wasn't moving, her wide eyes locked on Ruby.

Ruby Rose smiled.

Weiss's eyes softened.

The snowflake and the flower were overwhelmed by fire.

###

Jaune was on his hands and knees. He was on the verge of throwing up, but he pushed back that feeling.

Where was he?

Was he in the past?

Where was Ruby?

Where was Weiss?

Did–

Jaune looked up.

He was just in time to watch the approaching sole of a boot connect with his face. His head snapped back. His body toppled over.

Jaune Arc fought for consciousness. He struggled to stay awake.

But he could not.

Whoever had hit him was good at knocking people out through their aura. Jaune's brain had been perfectly rattled.

Jaune's world had already gone black but before noise too faded he heard the words, "don't bother him, he has a job to do."

There was no way to know whether they were directed at him. Or whether he had imagined the voice.

He had a feeling though.

A feeling those words were important.

So there you have it, the first chapter of The Shield of Vale. Let me know what you think. I didn't have time to do much self-editing and I don't have any beta readers for the RWBY archive so I apologize for the little things. And this is a long chapter 12k and some change, so I'm sure there's a lot. Ugh. I hate not having time to do proper editing. Dialogue suffers and clarity does too. I'm sure I would have cut out a lot if I'd actually been able to go through it all.

Gonna need a beta eventually.

Still, hope you enjoyed.

Let me know if I should write more B-)