Location: North-West of Vale, coastal town: Orleans.
High upon the hill overlooking Orleans stood the grand estate of the Arc family. If one listened closely, the rhythmic sound of wood striking against flesh could be heard, followed by the labored panting of exertion. Upon closer inspection, the source revealed itself to be young Jaune Arc, the only son of the prestigious Arc bloodline.
Jaune, only seven years of age, stood wielding his wooden sword against the towering 6'5 figure of his father, Miles Arc. renowned as the Sword of Orleans.
Jaune gripped his sword with both hands, knuckles white, his body littered with scratches and more than just "a few" bruises. He stood trembling but determined, facing down the immovable figure of his father with all the courage his small frame could muster.
Miles gazed at his son with disappointment and weary resignation. His expression betrayed the emotions he didn't voice. frustration, concern, and worry all at once.
"Jaune..." Miles called out, his voice heavy, laced with disappointment. "Let's stop the training for today..."
"No, Dad... I can still train some more..." Jaune pleaded, brows furrowed in frustration as he met the expression on his father's face. a look he had become all too familiar with over the years.
"No, Jaune. It's enough for today..." Miles sighed, eyeing his son's unwavering will to continue what had become fruitless effort.
"Just one more time, Dad, please!" Jaune begged, desperation creeping into his voice, his tone striving to reclaim some measure of his father's approval.
Miles exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck before giving in. "Just one more, Jaune... only one. After that, you're going to get patched up by your mother." He winced slightly, anticipating Luna's scolding later for being too harsh on their son.
"Thanks, Dad!" Jaune beamed with gratitude, his smile brightening his bruised features for just one moment.
He fell into what could generously be called his 'stance'. sloppy, unbalanced, and tense. He gripped his sword too tightly, his legs too close together, making him unstable and vulnerable to even the slightest gust of wind.
Miles observed him critically, his heart heavy. No matter how many corrections he gave, the boy's form never improved.
_Jaune, my son… what do I do with you? Just earlier I corrected this exact stance... I even guided your limbs myself... it's been the same for three years now..._
Miles didn't bother lifting his wooden sword into guard. He simply held it loosely at his side, choosing observation over engagement this time.
Jaune pushed forward with his right foot, launching at his father with all the strength he could muster, the sword raised overhead in one final attack. The strike was clumsy and wild, and Miles stopped it with ease using his own weapon, barely lifting it into position.
Jaune's grip slipped. The wooden sword launched into the air, spinning briefly before crashing down on his own head with brutal irony. He crumpled to the ground, and Miles let out another long, exhausted sigh.
"That's enough. Go inside and let your mother look at your wounds, Jaune," he said, his tone leaving no room to argue.
Jaune's eyes welled up with unshed tears. He turned away, ashamed and heartbroken, unwilling to meet his father's gaze. He simply nodded and walked back toward the house, shoulders slumped under the weight of unvoiced defeat and disappointment.
Miles watched his son's retreating form in silence. He bent down, picked up Jaune's discarded sword, and walked to the weapon rack where he began to put things back into their place. From behind one of the nearby trees, his second-oldest daughter stepped out into the open.
"He hasn't improved at all, Father..." Artoria Arc, eleven, said calmly, her arms folded across her chest. "It's like he's regressed compared to when he started training."
"I know, Artoria... I've trained him for three years now, and there's been no progress. If anything, he's gotten worse," Miles replied quietly, setting the wooden blade in place. "I've decided to stop training him from now on… I'll focus on Jeanne. Jaune's just not cut out to be Huntsman."
Artoria's eyes widened slightly, taking in the full weight of her father's declaration. She processed it for several seconds before speaking again. "He's going to hate you for that, you know," she warned quietly, her voice devoid of emotion but edged with worry.
"I know." Miles ran his hand down his face wearily. "I'd rather he hate me than die charging into Grimm, chasing some impossible dream to be like me. I can't let my son die because I didn't stop him when I should have."
Artoria said nothing as she turned to walk back into the house, but her silence spoke volumes. She understood her brother far more than he ever realized. and she feared the coming storm when that decision was delivered.
Inside the Arc home, Jaune climbed the steps, his mother Luna Arc. known far and wide as the Saint of Orleans. catching sight of him as he dragged his feet past the kitchen doorway.
"Jaune!" she called out, pausing him mid-step near the stairs. He blinked rapidly to clear the tears from his eyes before turning around, attempting to mask the sadness in his voice.
"Y-yeah, Mom? D-do you need anything?"
Luna approached him, her composure kind but full of concern. She crouched before him, placing one gentle hand on his bruised cheek. Her palm emitted soft white light, healing scratches and bruises with familiar warmth and practiced grace.
"Did you finish training for today, Jaune? Did you do well?" she asked with hopeful sweetness that only made his heart ache more.
"Y-yeah… I finished…" he replied, voice barely above whisper, eyes fixed on the floor in shame. He couldn't bear to look at her, not after failing again.
Luna sighed softly, pressing her lips to his brow with affection. "It's alright, Jaune. You did your best today. and that's enough," she said gently, stroking his cheek with motherly devotion.
Jaune wanted to argue. He wanted to shout that 'his best' wasn't enough and that continuing to fail might get someone killed one day. He wanted to scream. but he couldn't hurt her with those truths now, not when she was trying to protect him in her own way.
"Yes, Mom…"
Her eyes lit up with sudden inspiration. "How about you go dance with Saphron? She's upstairs in her room right now," she offered, knowing how much joy the art of dance brought to her son's heart.
Jaune's posture eased immediately, face lighting up with the first genuine smile of the day. "That sounds great, Mom!" he chirped with enthusiasm before darting off toward the upper floor.
Artoria passed by, watching her brother sprint up the stairs, his usual cheer returning to his features like sunlight after rain. She turned toward her mother with the faintest of smiles.
"He's going to dance with Saphron again, isn't he?"
"Yes, he is." Luna turned back to the stairs with unmistakable fondness in her gaze, then sighed aloud. "How I wish he didn't dream of becoming Huntsman…"
Artoria's expression darkened slightly, the weight of truth pressing into her chest. "He's too loving to ignore the Grimm, Mom… He's too kind to stand by and let others get hurt. He'd rather get wounded himself than see another person suffer."
Luna nodded slowly, her entire body tensing with worry. "He's so full of love, Artoria… I can't help but worry."
"I know, Mom." Artoria's voice softened. "Maybe he'll find another way to help one day… Maybe he'll become... I don't know, maybe even try to become like Saphron. a doctor, maybe. She could help guide him."
"Maybe," Luna said, her tone subdued. "Saphron is only thirteen, though. She has her own journey ahead of her. She can help him plan. but eventually, she'll be too busy to protect him from the world."
While the two women talked, Jaune tiptoed down the hall. He first peeked into the room of his two-year-old twin siblings, Blanchuer and Noir Arc, checking to see if they were still asleep. He spotted them curled under their shared blanket on the floor and smiled softly.
He stepped inside, carefully draped the blanket over them, and kissed each of their small brows before backing out and closing the door gently behind him.
As Jaune walked farther down the hall, he was drawn to the sound of wooden swords clashing coming from outside. He approached the nearest window and peered out to see five-year-old Jeanne, his younger sister, sparring fluidly against their father beneath the amber afternoon sun.
He stared quietly, watching the way his father's stern gaze melted into pride and affection as he trained Jeanne. That gaze. a look Jaune hadn't seen directed at himself in years. pierced his heart more than any of the bruises from earlier.
He turned away, trying not to cry again, and continued on to the room of Mordred, their nine-year-old sibling. He winced as loud, rebellious rock music blared through the cracked door. Opening it carefully, he spotted her admiring the large sword their father had gifted her upon her acceptance into combat school. It was far too large for her, but she clutched it with fierce pride in her eyes.
Jaune smiled at the sight, then quietly shut the door before she could notice and give him another rough noogie for 'snooping.'
Finally, he approached Saphron's room and eased the door open, ready to make the excuse of checking on her. She spotted him first.
"Jaune… what brings you here?" she asked, rising from her desk, eyes soft as always.
"N-nothing… I was just checking up on you," Jaune fumbled his words, trying not to sound like he'd been hoping for more than just that.
Saphron tilted her head, sensing his usual shift in mood. "Did you finish your training for today?"
"Y-yeah… I did." He looked down again, unable to face even her, afraid of seeing pity or disappointment in her eyes. The floor had never looked so worthy of study before.
Saphron smiled gently. "Do you want to dance, Jaune?"
His eyes lit up, radiant with joy. "Y-yeah! I want to!"
"Alright!" she chuckled, walking toward her scroll to pick the music. "What kind of music do you want today? Classical again? Or maybe salsa?"
"Classical would be great, Saph!"
"Classical it is, then," she replied, queuing one of their favorite tracks as Jaune took her hand, already beaming with anticipation.
Jaune then took Saphron's hand in his and started to waltz around the room with her.
While Saphron held her brother's hands, she couldn't help but think of how graceful Jaune's movements were as they waltzed around the room.
"You've gotten better at this, Jaune," she complimented him before placing her hand on his shoulder. With her other hand, she held his left, while his other rested gently on her waist.
"I'm only this good because you danced with me, Saph," he said with his usual bright smile before spinning her with ease.
Saphron looked at her brother's joyful, loving expression, and she herself smiled. She crouched slightly to compensate for their height difference and spun gracefully, matching his pace.
They continued to waltz through the music for the next twenty or so minutes. Eventually, Saphron was exhausted, while her younger brother was still full of energy, his face glowing with happiness. She couldn't help but look at him with affection, feeling proud that she had managed to help him forget his troubles, even if just for now. She knew how hard his training had been lately. how discouraging it must feel, day after day.
"Jaune… can we take just take break for now? I'm kind of tired," she said, wiping sweat from her brow, while Jaune remained beaming with energy.
"It's okay, Saph! I don't want to take up any more of your time!" Jaune said as he walked up to her and hugged her tightly.
As she hugged him back, she reassured him, "It's okay, Jaune. I can study later."
"No, it's okay. Let's stop for today." Jaune felt slightly disappointed that their dance had ended so quickly, but he truly didn't want to take up any more of her time when he knew she had things to do.
Saphron let out another tired sigh, touched once more by how thoughtful her little brother was.
"Well, if you say so, Jaune… do you want to stay here while I study?" she asked, knowing he needed distraction from his training and everything that had him down lately.
"No, it's okay, Saph! I'm going to help Mom cook lunch!" Jaune said, smiling brightly, his face filled with love before he walked out of her room.
Saphron watched him leave, her gaze soft and full of concern. She wished with all her heart that she could help Jaune achieve his dream, but she herself couldn't fight, and her own dream was to become someone who could heal. someone who could help in other ways. She wanted to be someone who saved lives as well, not with weapons, but with care and medicine. a doctor.
As the day passed, night took over, and the house fell into slumber beneath the calm blanket of midnight. Everyone was fast asleep except for one Jaune Arc, who had woken with the sudden need to use the toilet. He shuffled back down the dim hallway after finishing, rubbing his tired eyes and ready to return to bed when he heard the sound of voices. heated, tense, and rising steadily from behind one of the nearby doors.
Curious, and with growing unease churning in his chest, Jaune tiptoed toward the noise. It led him to his parents' bedroom. As he got closer, he recognized their voices. He pressed his ear gently against the door, trying to listen more clearly without making any sound himself.
"What do you mean by stopping his training, Miles!?" his mother's voice snapped, angrier than Jaune had ever heard before. His stomach sank instantly. He knew they were talking about him. who else could it be?
"I'm stopping his training for his own good, Luna," his father replied, his tone trying to soothe but failing to calm the storm.
"You're stopping his dreams!" Luna's voice rose again, furious and defensive.
"I know I'm stopping his dreams, Luna… but it's for the best," Miles insisted, strain clear in every word.
"YOU ARE DESTROYING HIS DREAMS, MILES ARC!" his mother shouted, and Jaune flinched where he stood, shaken by the ferocity. He had never heard his soft, gentle mother scream like that before. The sound made his heart pound against his ribs like it wanted to escape the hurt inside his chest.
"I KNOW, OKAY? I KNOW!" Miles shouted back just as loudly, frustration spilling over like boiling water. "BUT I JUST DON'T WANT HIM TO DIE SOME FOOLISH DEATH BECAUSE OF HIS STUPID DREAM, LUNA!"
Jaune stepped back slightly, startled by the force in his father's voice, his wide blue eyes stinging with emotion he couldn't explain. He wanted to run away. but he couldn't. He needed to hear more, even though it hurt with every word.
There was silence for several seconds. Then his father spoke again, voice quieter this time, not soft, but full of exhaustion.
"I just don't want him to die, Luna… I can't bear the thought of burying my son because I let him continue chasing this dream of becoming Huntsman. I've trained him for three years… and he's gotten worse, not better. He hasn't improved at all… not in skill, not in form, not in instinct… He's just… not getting there."
He sounded tired. so tired. and so, so disappointed that Jaune could feel it like cold water soaking through his clothes and straight into his bones.
"I'm planning to tell him the news at breakfast… I'm going to focus on training Jeanne. Even with only six months of training, she's already leaps and bounds ahead of Jaune."
Jaune could hear the pride in his father's voice when he mentioned Jeanne… but what crushed him was the sorrow and disappointment layered behind every mention of his own name. He could hear the truth in it, no matter how hard he tried not to believe it. No matter how much he prayed for his father's approval, he hadn't earned it. He was… failing.
His heart clenched painfully inside his chest, and though his eyes burned, Jaune didn't shed his tears just yet. not there. He stepped away from the door as silently as he could, afraid that even one sob might be overheard. He crept back to his room and climbed into bed, curling beneath his blanket as the storm inside his heart broke free in the quiet of the night.
Alone in the darkness, with only shattered dreams for company, Jaune Arc cried himself to sleep.
[AN: Give me all of your power stone muahahahhahaha]
[You could read up to 10 chapter ahead if you support me on patr30n. At patreon . com / Zaneninjacat for only 10 dollars.]
[AN: This chapter's grammar had been fixed!]