[RWBY] The Great Temporal Step-Sibling War!

[AndrewJTalon]

The heavy door to the basement levels of Beacon clicked shut behind them with a solid, final sound. Ozpin led the way into the basement lab, cane tapping softly against the stone. Glynda followed a half-step behind, riding crop already in hand, her posture rigid with the kind of tension that had been building since the previous night.

Raven was sitting cross-legged on the floor of her reinforced cell, fiddling with something small and metallic she'd clearly scavenged from somewhere. She didn't look up as they approached.

Ozpin's voice was calm, almost gentle.

"That won't work, Raven."

Raven snorted without lifting her head.

"Worth a try."

Glynda flicked her riding crop once. A wave of her Semblance rolled through the air, invisible threads of force checking every bar, every seam, every dust-weave reinforcement in the cell. Everything held. She gave a short nod as she snatched the tool from Raven's hands and caught it.

Raven finally looked up, eyes narrowing as she caught Glynda's stare. She leaned back against the wall, arms draped casually over her knees. On the small table beside her cot, the photos of her future grandchildren and the life she'd never had still lay spread out like silent accusations.

Ozpin moved to the main lab area, crouching beside Amber's stasis pod to check the readouts. Glynda remained where she was, staring at Raven through the bars in heavy silence.

Raven's lips curled into a mocking half-smile.

"So… how's your future husband doing?"

Glynda's nose wrinkled.

"He's fine."

Raven nodded slowly, as if tasting the words.

"Fits. I always figured you'd need an act of God to land anyone. Guess the universe finally took pity on you."

Glynda's grip tightened on her riding crop.

"It's no surprise you ran away from Tai. You could never handle anything more complicated than swinging that sword of yours."

Raven's eyes flashed dangerously. She pushed herself to her feet in one fluid motion.

"You're competing against my daughter, old crone. You'll lose."

Glynda's chin lifted.

"In my timeline, my husband and I… we get along fine."

Raven barked a short, sharp laugh.

"Then what's got you so insecure? You're practically vibrating."

Ozpin straightened from Amber's pod and stepped back into the main space, voice cutting smoothly between them.

"You really shouldn't be talking, Raven. You're already feeling the effects of age yourself." He adjusted his glasses. "Besides, Isabel will be down soon to check on you. Thank you for providing more life for Amber though."

Raven's scowl deepened, eyes narrowing to slits.

"What the hell are you talking about, effects of age?"

"Some women handle it better than others," Ozpin said, calm and confident. He turned as Raven stood up.

"What the hell?! What effect?!"

Ozpin ignored her completely, turning toward the lift with the calm certainty of a man who had played this game for centuries. Glynda followed, but not before shooting Raven one last cool look.

As they entered the elevator and the heavy doors sealed behind them, Glynda exhaled slowly.

"I'm sorry, Ozpin. I lost my cool."

Ozpin waved a dismissive hand, though his own shoulders carried a faint weariness.

"No need to apologize. The entire situation-old friends, new complications, Jaune… it has shaken all of us. I'm a bit off my game myself."

They reached the top of the tower and entered his office. Glynda's heels clicked sharply against the floor.

"I just… it's all hit me at once," she admitted quietly. "Jaune. The futures. Children... Everything."

Ozpin nodded.

"I understand. But we will make it through. We have eleven ways to win this war now. It won't be easy… but the chance of victory is real for the first time in a very long while." He smiled gently. "And you do have a happy future."

Glynda's steps slowed slightly. She nodded, but swallowed before she spoke again.

"…It wasn't without great cost in every timeline."

Ozpin was silent for several paces. Then he gave a single, solemn nod.

"Victory is never without cost. But it is a cost I will pay gladly, knowing we can finally save the world."

He stepped around behind his desk and sat down. Glynda stood at attention in front of him, then hesitated, biting her lower lip.

"Ozpin… I've learned something important from Dorothy."

He reached for his ever-present coffee mug and the pitcher from the coffee machine, pouring some into his mug and taking a slow sip as he turned back to her.

"What is it?"

Glynda drew in a steadying breath.

"Jaune… He's the Rusted Knight."

Ozpin paused mid-sip. He slowly lowered the mug, eyes sharpening behind his spectacles.

"I mean… he will be. He is right now… It's complicated."

Ozpin set the mug down with deliberate care. He swallowed once.

Then he tapped his Scroll.

"Weena? I think I might have a breakthrough for you."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian Chapel, Gallia, Vale

Five years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The small chapel on the edge of the Arc family lands smelled of white lilies, polished wood, and the faint scent of smoke that seemed to follow Cinder Fall no matter how many years passed.

She stood before the tall mirror in the side room that served as a bridal chamber, staring at the woman looking back at her. The dress was simple—ivory silk with subtle crimson accents at the hem and sleeves, chosen because anything too pure would have felt like a lie. Her hair was swept up, the usual wild mane tamed into soft waves. The glass eye she had worn for five years gleamed like molten gold in the soft light.

Cinder's hands trembled slightly as she adjusted the veil.

"I look… ridiculous," she muttered.

Emerald, standing behind her in a deep green bridesmaid dress, smiled with wet eyes. "You look beautiful, Cinder."

Mercury leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying and failing to look unimpressed. "Yeah, well, don't trip over the train and set the chapel on fire. Again."

Neo, perched on a windowsill and eating a cupcake, gave a silent thumbs-up and a wicked little grin.

Cinder huffed a laugh that sounded more like a sob. "I still can't believe he said yes. After everything I did… after the mountain, after Beacon, after-"

A soft knock interrupted her. The door opened just enough for Blake and Ruby to slip inside, followed by Yang and Weiss. The three of them had become unlikely constants in this strange new life: Proof that even the worst sins could be outlived.

Yang grinned, golden hair loose and bright. "You ready to walk down that aisle, Fall? Or should we start taking bets on whether you bolt?"

"I'm not bolting," Cinder said sharply, then quieter, "I… I'm terrified."

Weiss stepped forward and straightened Cinder's veil with surprisingly gentle hands. "Good. Means it matters. Jaune's waiting for you. If he can survive the Ever After, he can survive marrying you."

Blake offered a small, knowing smile. "You chose this. You chose him. That's more than most of us ever get."

Ruby beamed.

"Besides... We saved the world. We should get happy endings, right?"

Cinder closed her eyes for a long moment. When she opened them again, the old fire was still there, but softer now, tempered.

Outside, the organ began to play.

Emerald took her arm. "Come on. Your future husband is probably sweating through his tux wondering if you're going to show up."

The walk down the aisle felt longer than any battlefield Cinder had ever crossed.

Jaune stood at the front in a simple black tux, his beard neatly trimmed and cut, the scars on his neck and face catching the stained-glass light. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world.

When she reached him, he took both her hands and whispered, just for her, "You came."

"I almost didn't," she admitted, voice barely audible. "Old habits."

Jaune smiled, the same crooked, farm-boy smile that had somehow survived everything. "I would've come after you. Like I always do."

The ceremony was short and simple. Vows were spoken-hers shaky at first, his steady as stone. When Father Percival asked if anyone had objections, the entire chapel held its breath for half a second before a collective sigh of relief swept through.

Then came the kiss.

Cinder expected something chaste and proper. Instead Jaune pulled her close, one hand at the small of her back, the other cupping her cheek, and kissed her like a man who had survived decades alone in a mad dimension just to see her again.

Like he always did.

When they broke apart, the chapel erupted in cheers. Emerald was openly crying. Mercury pretended to gag but couldn't hide his grin. Neo tossed flower petals with theatrical flair. Yang whooped loud enough to rattle the rafters, while Ruby cheered while jumping up and down. Even Weiss dabbed at her eyes while pretending it was dust.

Later, at the small reception in the Arc family barn (because Jaune had insisted on something "normal"), Cinder found herself leaning against Jaune's side as their friends and strange new family danced and laughed around them.

She watched the firelight play across his face and asked quietly, "Do you ever regret it? Choosing this… choosing me?"

Jaune turned her toward him, resting his forehead against hers. "Every day I wake up next to you is the opposite of regret, Cinder. You're not the woman who tried to burn the world anymore. You're the woman who helped rebuild it. With me."

Cinder's throat tightened. She reached up and traced the worst of the scars on his wrists-the ones her own hand had once helped create.

"I still see the ashes sometimes," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "But I see the garden we planted in them."

Cinder snorted.

"You're so corny."

"Well, I am a farm boy."

Cinder barely hid her smile as she leaned against him.

"That joke's not going to get old any time soon..."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The guest wing of Beacon was quiet at this hour, the kind of dignified hush that came from thick carpets and centuries-old stone. Willow Schnee sat at the small writing desk in her suite, Scroll held to her ear, voice low but steady.

"I know, Mister Hurt. I know. But we need this information, please."

The gruff voice of the old Mole Faunus crackled through the speaker.

"Hmph! Funny of you to be interested now, after all these years."

Willow's expression flickered—hurt flashing across her features for a brief moment—before she steadied herself and nodded, even though he couldn't see it.

"You're right. I have a lot to make up for. That's part of why I'm doing this. Please… whatever you can do to keep Jacques busy, do it."

There was a long pause on the other end.

"…I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you."

Another gruff huff. "Hmph… If you'd married that blond idiot instead of that jackass, we'd all be in a better position."

Willow's eyes closed for a second.

"…I know."

The call ended with a soft click. Willow set the Scroll down and rubbed her temples, exhaling slowly.

The door to the sitting area opened. James Ironwood stepped in, posture still rigidly military despite the warmth of the afternoon sun shining through the windows. He took the chair across from her without waiting for an invitation.

Klein appeared in his usual enigmatic way-seemingly materializing from the shadows near the sideboard-carrying a silver tray with two cups of tea. He poured for both of them exactly the way they preferred: strong and black for Ironwood, with a single cube of sugar and a splash of cream for Willow.

Ironwood accepted his cup with a small nod and a rare, tired smile.

"I see we've both been busy."

Willow lifted her tea, inhaling the soothing aroma before taking a sip.

"Extremely. How are things going with you?"

Ironwood sighed, shoulders sagging just a fraction.

"I've turned the proposal for the alliance over to the Council. Both chambers are in an uproar… but you probably knew that."

Willow offered a soft, knowing smile.

"I still have a few old friends in the Council. Do you think they'll go for it?"

"I have seldom pushed hard for specific policies, save at the most desperate need. I do have a fair amount of capital, but this will be difficult."

"I'm willing to do all I can to help… but anything really substantial requires we deal with Jacques."

Ironwood nodded grimly.

"I know."

Willow sucked in a breath. She contemplated the tea cup in front of her.

"I wouldn't ask for you to... Take any illegal action," she said. Ironwood nodded.

"I know. You wouldn't be the first to ask."

Willow raised an eyebrow. Ironwood allowed himself a small, bitter smirk.

"Do you think he's only made enemies of his family? His behavior has often cost us. He has fomented rebellions in Mistral and Vacuo. Forcing us to intervene. He's certainly not done our reputation any favors. But he's always had just the right friends in the right places to block any serious efforts to remove him. Made himself indispensable."

"But you could remove him," Willow said, quiet. Ironwood nodded grimly.

"If the stakes were high enough, yes... But I would destroy any attempt at this alliance. Once you cross that line... You either surrender yourself to the authorities to be tried, or you go all the way to seize power." He shook his head slowly. "Atlas suffers a devastating civil war in several of these futures. I can't risk instigating it now, even knowing the future."

"I know," Willow sighed. "So... I suppose for the time being all we can do is stall."

"Until we can nail him," Ironwood agreed. Willow smiled gently at him.

"I... There are times I wish I hadn't been so foolish in love."

Ironwood slowly nodded.

"Don't we all?" He murmured. Willow studied him carefully.

"Do you know... Her future? In the timelines?"

Ironwood was still, almost lifeless.

"... I do." He shakes his head. "All I can do is hope she's not a casualty in this one."

Willow nodded.

"I suppose so..."

The door opened again. Weiss stepped in, looking utterly exhausted—shoulders slumped, hair slightly disheveled, the faint scent of Dust and lab chemicals still clinging to her clothes.

"Oh… Hello, General." She gave a quick, automatic curtsy. "Hello, Klein. Hello, Mother."

Klein bowed his head with grandfatherly warmth.

"Hello, Miss Weiss."

Ironwood offered a respectful nod.

"Hello, Weiss."

Willow's expression softened, the smile reaching her eyes even if it was still a little tentative.

"Hello, Weiss… Are you all right?"

It was still awkward between them—years of distance and pain didn't vanish overnight—but Willow was trying. Weiss could see it. She slowly nodded.

"I am. I did get to work with Jaune in Dust Studies today. He is actually quite knowledgeable about Medical Dust. I suppose that makes sense, given his mother."

Willow's smile warmed a fraction.

"Yes, Isabel Arc is one of the foremost experts in Healing Dust. Jacques tried to hire her a few times as his personal physician, but she refused each time."

Weiss let out a heavy sigh and sank into the nearest chair.

"…I can't believe I… I was so stupid…"

Klein, ever the diplomat, spoke gently as he adjusted the tea tray.

"Speaking frankly, Miss, he hardly covered himself in glory when he first courted you. You're both young and foolish. It happens."

Weiss scowled, frustration bubbling up.

"Yes, but he and Winter…!" She trailed off, then shook her head. "I'm up against so much right now, Mother. Against the first friends I've ever made and my own sister!"

Willow leaned forward slightly, voice sincere.

"I know. And I am so very sorry, Weiss. If I hadn't been—"

Ironwood cut in quietly but firmly, raising his synthetic hand and closing it into a fist as he stared at the metal fingers.

"Guilt and self-blame never helps. Trust me." His voice carried the weight of old, painful memories. "All you can do is what you can do."

Weiss exhaled, shoulders slumping again.

"Yes…"

Willow reached across and gently touched her daughter's arm.

"The only way this will work out is as a group arrangement, Weiss. I doubt you want to see any of the children vanish into nothing."

Weiss sat up straighter, eyes widening.

"No! Of course not!"

Willow nodded.

"So you will need allies. I believe Winter would be most amenable to start with… but I do know how women can get when the heart of a man is the prize. So you must be cunning and clever, Weiss. I know you have it in you."

Weiss blinked, a spark of determination lighting in her eyes.

"I… Thank you, Mother!"

Willow's smile turned a touch mischievous.

"But I have neglected you in… many ways. Not the least of which is how to properly woo a man. Especially an Arc man. I learned that subtlety is not your friend."

Weiss stared at her, dumbfounded.

"What do I have to do? Hit him over the head with a hammer?"

Willow's eyes twinkled.

"If you must—and conveniently, you have a friend with such a weapon!"

Before Weiss could protest, Willow gently but firmly guided her toward the back room, arm looped through hers like they were old conspirators.

Ironwood raised an eyebrow at Klein, who was calmly collecting the empty teacups.

Klein gave a small, fond chuckle.

"If it helps, this is the happiest and healthiest I've ever seen their relationship."

Ironwood took another sip of tea, expression thoughtful.

"I suppose it does…"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Haven Academy, Mistral

The day after the battle, Ten Months After Vytal

- - -

The stone bench outside the old chapel was cold, worn smooth by decades of resting students. Jaune Arc sat with his back against the wall, armor still streaked with soot and dried blood. Arslan leaned against his side, her own armor dented and scratched, golden hair matted with sweat.

They were both exhausted. The battle against Cinder and her group had been won—barely—but the real war was only beginning. Delegates from Pandu, Argus, Vale, and Menagerie were already arguing in the main hall about supply lines, troop movements, and how to reach Atlas before Salem's forces could regroup. Ruby and the rest of their friends were in the thick of it. Jaune and Arslan had slipped away between meetings, hands finding each other like they always did when the world grew too loud.

Jaune tilted his head toward the chapel doors. "It's weird they kept this place. Mistral's been hostile to the Tablebreaker Church for generations."

Arslan hummed softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand. "Appearances. The old regime had to pretend they weren't completely oppressive. A single chapel on academy grounds was a small price to pay for looking tolerant."

Jaune gave a tired chuckle. "Politics. Even faith gets turned into a bargaining chip."

They rose together, still holding hands, and pushed open the heavy wooden doors.

Inside, the chapel had been cleaned—someone had swept the floors and wiped down the pews—but it still carried the scent of long neglect: dust, old incense, and the faint metallic tang of abandoned candle holders. Sunlight filtered through cracked stained-glass windows depicting the Tablebreaker and disciples, casting fractured colors across the stone.

Arslan's expression softened as she looked around. A small, almost wistful smile touched her lips.

"I got lost here once," she said quietly. "During a film festival when I was very small. I wandered away from my parents, then started shouting for them until my voice gave out. I ended up in this chapel, crying, and finally fell asleep on one of the pews."

Jaune squeezed her hand, listening.

"When I woke up," Arslan continued, "a kindly male Lion Faunus was kneeling beside me. He had a warm voice and gentle eyes. He asked, 'Arslan, why are you sleeping?' I told him I was lost. He nodded and said he understood. Even though I didn't know him, I felt… completely safe. Like I could trust him with anything."

She paused, eyes distant with memory.

"He took my hand and told me my parents would be here soon. Then he asked what I wanted to do with my life. I said I didn't know, but I wanted to do good things and help people. He told me it would be very difficult. That I would have to be brave." Arslan's voice grew quieter. "I said it was hard to be brave because I was always scared. He answered that being brave wasn't about not having fear. It was about controlling it long enough to do what needed to be done."

Arslan looked up at the fractured light on the altar.

"The doors opened. My mother and father rushed in and hugged me so tightly I thought I might break. I tried to tell them about the nice man who had helped me… but when I turned around, he was gone. No one else had seen him."

Jaune was quiet for a long moment. "That's… spooky."

"At first, yes," Arslan admitted with a small laugh. "But later… I realized it must have been Aslan."

Jaune met her eyes without hesitation. "I believe you."

Arslan's smile was soft and grateful. "I'm glad. There are times I still wonder about it… about my faith. Whether it's strong enough when moments like that feel so… impossible."

"You?" Jaune asked, surprised. "Doubting?"

Arslan gave a tired, rueful laugh. "Do you not also doubt God and yourself sometimes, Jaune?"

He exhaled slowly, leaning back against the pew. "…Yeah. Sometimes. Less now."

"It is the same for me," she said. "That moment, though… I suppose it taught me that I have to be brave, even when I'm scared. Just as Arslan was. Just as we must be."

Jaune nodded, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "It's the only time you can be brave."

They sat together on the old wooden pew in silence for a while, shoulders touching, letting the quiet of the neglected chapel wrap around them like a blanket. The distant sounds of alliance negotiations filtered in faintly—raised voices, the clatter of maps and scrolls, Nora bellowing about 'stupid politics SMASH!—but here, for these few stolen minutes, the world felt smaller and kinder.

Arslan leaned her head against his shoulder. "Thank you."

Jaune pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "For what?"

"For listening. For believing. For sitting here with me when we both have a hundred things we should be doing."

He smiled against her hair. "We'll get back to saving the world in a minute. Right now… I think the world can wait five more minutes for us."

Arslan's hand found his again and held on tight.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Royal Palace, Hastinpur, Pandu

Five years after Salem's defeat

- - -

The air smelled of jasmine, sandalwood, and the faint sweetness of marigold garlands strung everywhere. May Sarkara stood in the private antechamber just off the main garden pavilion, dressed in the traditional red-and-gold bridal lehenga that had been passed down through the queens of Pandu for generations. Intricate henna patterns covered her hands and arms, and a heavy dupatta draped over her head and shoulders. She looked every inch the queen she had become.

And she was quietly panicking.

"I can't do this," she whispered, fingers twisting in the edge of her dupatta. "It's ridiculous. I helped broker the alliance that saved Remnant. I stood in war councils with kings and generals. I faced down Salem with a gun without ammo. And yet here I am, about to walk down an aisle, and my knees feel like they're made of jelly."

Saia Sarkara, radiant in deep crimson as the former queen and proud mother, stepped forward and gently took her daughter's trembling hands.

"That is perfectly normal, my little star," Saia said softly, her voice warm with years of wisdom and love. "You have commanded armies and negotiated peace between kingdoms, but this… this is giving your heart to someone forever. It is allowed to feel big."

Ruby Rose bounced on her toes beside them, her own dress a cheerful mix of red and white that somehow still looked Huntress-ready. "You're gonna be great, May! And you're gonna make Jaune so happy. He already looks at you like you hung every star in the sky. Besides… he makes you happy, right?"

May's cheeks flushed beneath the delicate makeup. She managed a small, shy smile. "Yes. More than I ever thought possible."

Weiss Schnee adjusted the drape of May's dupatta with precise, caring fingers. "Then focus on that. The rest is just ceremony. You've faced worse than a wedding."

Yang Xiao Long grinned, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, her own golden dress catching the light like fire. "Exactly. Walk out there, look at your man, and remember you're the same woman who helped save the world. A little red carpet and some flowers aren't going to break you."

May took a deep, steadying breath. "You're all right. It's just… this feels more important than any battle. This is the rest of my life."

Saia kissed her daughter's forehead. "And it will be a beautiful one. Now go. Your king is waiting."

May nodded, squared her shoulders like she was stepping onto a battlefield, and slowly walked out into the garden pavilion.

The crowd—royalty and warriors from every kingdom that had stood against Salem—fell into a respectful hush as she appeared. But May barely noticed them.

Her father, Arjun Sarkara, waited at the edge of the aisle. The former king stood tall despite the loss of his right arm and left leg, both replaced by finely crafted Pandu prosthetics that gleamed with subtle gold inlay. He wore his best ceremonial attire, simple yet regal, and his eyes shone with fierce pride as he offered his remaining arm to his daughter.

"You look like your mother on our wedding day," he said quietly.

May slipped her arm through his, gripping a little tighter than she meant to. "Thank you, Papa."

He guided her down the aisle with steady, measured steps. At the end stood Jaune. He was dressed in classic Pandu groom's attire of rich gold and deep blue, the long sherwani embroidered with intricate patterns that matched May's own. His blond hair was neatly combed, and the warm, steady smile he gave her made the entire world narrow down until only the two of them remained.

The crowd, the music, the flowers, the weight of two kingdoms watching-it all faded away. There was only Jaune, looking at her like she was the most precious thing in Remnant.

They stood before the priest and the sacred fire. Vows were spoken, traditional Pandu promises of partnership, protection, and lifelong devotion, mixed with the simpler, heartfelt words they had written together. Jaune's voice never wavered. May's started soft but grew stronger with every word, until she was speaking with the same quiet certainty she used when leading troops or negotiating treaties.

When the priest tied the mangalsutra around her neck and they circled the fire seven times, May felt something settle deep in her chest. This was right.

This was home.

The moment the ceremony ended, the garden erupted into joyous chaos. Drums pounded, cheers rang out, and the party began in full Pandu fashion—loud, colorful, and overflowing with life. Dancers spun, guests laughed and embraced, and plates of fragrant food circulated endlessly.

But through it all, May kept her hand firmly in Jaune's.

He leaned close during a particularly raucous song, voice warm against her ear. "You okay, Your Majesty?"

May smiled up at him, the nervous flutter from earlier completely gone. "I'm perfect. Everything else… it's just noise. As long as I have you, the rest doesn't matter."

Jaune squeezed her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, right where her maang tikka rested. "Then I'm never letting go."

They stood together in the middle of the celebration-queen and consort, warrior and shield-surrounded by the uproarious happiness of a world they had helped save. May's heart felt full to bursting, steady and sure.

She had faced down terrorists, helped forge alliances that spanned continents, and stared into the face of darkness itself.

Marrying the man she loved?

That was the easiest thing she had ever done.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

The late afternoon sun had dipped low enough that Training Yard 69 was bathed in warm gold, turning the scattered rubble and craters into long, dramatic shadows. Sweat glistened on Jaune's skin as he and Winter circled each other in the open grass, both breathing hard but focused. Isabel stood a few paces back, arms crossed, offering quiet corrections while Penny hovered nearby like an enthusiastic referee.

Winter moved first—sharp, precise, a textbook Arc-style entry that blended Isabel's brutal efficiency with her own Atlesian discipline. Jaune slipped inside her guard, caught her wrist, and used her momentum against her. They grappled for a moment, Aura flaring, until Jaune twisted, swept her leg, and brought her down hard onto the grass.

He followed through immediately, dropping his weight to pin her shoulders with his knees and pressing one forearm across her collarbone. Winter's breath hitched as she found herself flat on her back, Jaune looming over her, both of them flushed and breathing heavily from the exertion.

"Got you," Jaune panted, a small, proud grin breaking through.

Winter's ice-blue eyes widened for a fraction of a second—something softer and far more personal flashing behind the soldier's mask—before she recovered. A faint blush colored her cheeks.

"…Well executed," she managed, voice slightly tighter than usual. She didn't immediately try to throw him off.

Isabel nodded approvingly. "Better control on the finish, Jaune. You're starting to feel the flow instead of forcing it."

Before Jaune could reply, the sound of approaching footsteps and cheerful voices cut through the yard.

"Jaune! There you are!"

Pyrrha's bright call carried across the grass. She, Nora, and Ren were jogging up the path from the main campus, all three dressed in casual-but-nice clothes clearly chosen for a night out. Pyrrha's red hair was loose and shining, a soft smile on her face that faltered the instant she took in the scene:

Jaune straddling Winter Schnee on the grass, both of them sweaty, breathing hard, Winter's hands resting lightly on his arms as if she'd been about to counter but had paused instead.

Pyrrha stopped dead. Nora skidded to a halt beside her, hammer slung over one shoulder, eyes going wide with delighted mischief. Ren simply raised an eyebrow, calm as ever, though the corner of his mouth twitched.

Winter noticed them a heartbeat later. Her expression shifted—professional mask snapping back into place—but not before a flicker of something possessive and competitive flashed across her face. She didn't shove Jaune off immediately. Instead she held the pin for one deliberate extra second, letting her fingers brush his forearm as she finally allowed him to help her up.

Jaune scrambled to his feet, offering Winter a hand she accepted with graceful dignity. Both of them were still flushed from the spar.

"Pyrrha! Nora! Ren!" Jaune waved, a little too enthusiastically, clearly trying to diffuse the sudden tension thickening the air. "Hey! You guys are early—uh, we were just finishing up some training with Mom."

Isabel coughed lightly, hiding a knowing smile behind her hand.

Winter brushed grass from her uniform, posture ramrod straight, but her gaze flicked to Pyrrha with cool assessment.

"Miss Nikos," she said, voice perfectly polite and just a shade too crisp. "I hope we're not delaying your evening plans. Jaune was showing excellent progress with the Arc family style. It's… quite physical."

Pyrrha's smile tightened, green eyes narrowing just a fraction. She stepped forward, posture every bit the champion—shoulders back, chin high—but the flush on her cheeks wasn't entirely from the jog over.

"No delay at all, Specialist Schnee," she replied, matching Winter's politeness with a sweetness that had a razor edge underneath. "Though I'm glad to see Jaune is getting such… hands-on instruction. He does learn best when someone keeps him on his back."

Nora let out a loud, delighted cackle. "Ooooh! Catfight! I mean—friendly rival bonding! This is gonna be the best double date ever!"

Ren placed a calming hand on Nora's shoulder, but his own voice was mild. "We came to collect Jaune for the group outing. If the training is finished…?"

Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, looking between the two women like he was watching two very pretty trains heading for the same crossing.

"Uh… yeah! Training's done. Mom?"

Isabel nodded, stepping in smoothly before the tension could thicken further.

"You did well today, both of you. Winter, you picked up the basics remarkably fast. Keep practicing the low-level Aura flow—it will make the throws feel natural instead of forced."

Winter gave a crisp nod, though her eyes lingered on Pyrrha a moment longer. "Thank you, Doctor Arc. I look forward to incorporating it properly."

Pyrrha offered Winter a small, tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm sure Jaune will be happy to spar with you again sometime. Perhaps when we're all less… occupied with dates."

The word "dates" came out a touch sharper than Pyrrha probably intended.

Winter's lips curved in the faintest, frostiest smile.

"Of course. Priorities."

Jaune cleared his throat loudly. "Right! So… group date? JNPR style? Sounds perfect. I just need to grab a quick shower and change—give me ten minutes?"

Nora bounced on her toes. "Make it five, Fearless Leader! We've got reservations at that new Mistralian place and I want to see if they have the exploding shrimp appetizer!"

Pyrrha stepped closer to Jaune, slipping her arm through his with gentle but unmistakable claim. She glanced back at Winter.

"We'll wait right here. Take your time."

Winter's eyes narrowed ever so slightly at the casual contact, but she simply straightened her uniform jacket.

"I should return to my own duties as well. Theodore, Penny—shall we?"

Theodore, who had been watching the whole exchange with poorly concealed amusement, gave a lazy salute. "Yes, Mom."

Penny beamed. "Have a wonderful evening, Friend Jaune! I will continue monitoring for any suspicious activity!"

As Winter turned to leave, she paused just long enough to meet Pyrrha's gaze one last time. The look was cool, measured… and carried the unmistakable message of a woman who had no intention of yielding ground.

Pyrrha returned it evenly, champion's poise wrapped around a quiet steel that said the same thing right back.

Jaune, caught between them, offered an awkward little wave as Winter and the others departed.

"…So. Double date?"

Nora slung an arm around both Jaune and Pyrrha's shoulders, grinning like a shark.

"This is gonna be fun."

Pyrrha let out a slow breath, forcing her shoulders to relax as she leaned lightly into Jaune's side.

"Yes," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "It will be."

But the competitive spark in her eyes lingered long after Winter had disappeared down the path.

- - -

A quick detour to Team JNPR's dorm room to freshen up had been needed after the workout training had put him through. Fortunately Ren had the foresight to lay out an outfit for him while he showered so he was dressed and ready to go in short order.

Jaune checked the outfit in the mirror as he made sure his hair was combed back in a manner appropriate for a date. Overall it was fairly similar to the outfit he had worn for his dates with Winter and May but it felt less formal with the lack of jacket to go with the buttoned up shirt. The difference felt right, as this wasn't about first impressions and getting off on the right foot. This was about strengthening a bond that already existed, seeing if it could be more.

Satisfied with the way his reflection looked Jaune left the bathroom and took in what the rest of his team was wearing. Ren was in a nice button up shirt and slacks just like Jaune, while Nora wore a sundress that matched her eyes.

Pyrrha had elected to wear the traditional garb of her homeland's classical era. Her outfit consisted of a crimson peplos over a golden yellow chiton and a bronze crown of a different design than her normal headdress; a simple circlet that had a slightly thicker portion at the front.

"You look like a classical sculpture came to life," The compliment flowed smoothly from Jaune's lips, surprising himself almost as much as it surprised Pyrrha.

"T-thank you Jaune," Her blush was luminous enough to be seen through her makeup as she looked to the side with a smile.

Jaune couldn't remember seeing his pattern look bashful before and she had never been one to be giddy, but a strange combination of those two emotions harmoniously danced across her face in a captivating display. As that beautiful expression faded into Pyrrha's more regular pleased face Jaune decided he wanted to see it again.

With a new goal in mind Jaune offered Pyrrha his arm. which she happily accepted. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ren and Nora linking their arms in a similar way.

"So I'm guessing you two had a place in mind when you offered to make this a double date?" Jaune ventured as he looked to his friends.

"We do," Ren confirmed as both couples left the room, Penny joining them and taking point as they started heading in the direction of the airfield.

"Yep," Nora chimed in with a giggling grin, "We picked out a venue that's Just Right."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian, Gallia, Vale

Eight Years after Salem's defeat...

- - -

The Arc-Xiao Long household on the outskirts of Patch was rarely quiet, but tonight the usual cheerful chaos had been replaced by one very loud, very persistent four-year-old.

"WAAAAAHHHHH!"

Xia stood in the middle of the living room in her little yellow pajamas, tears streaming down her face as she wailed at the top of her lungs. Her golden pigtails bounced with every sob. No amount of coaxing, hugging, or offering of cookies had worked.

Jaune knelt in front of her, gently rubbing her back while Yang paced nearby, brows furrowed in concern.

"Sweetie, you gotta tell us what's wrong," Jaune said softly. "Is your tummy hurt? Did you have a bad dream?"

Xia just shook her head and kept crying.

Yang checked the twins first, three-year-old Yin and Pyrrha, both sound asleep in their shared room, tangled together like puppies. Then she peeked into the nursery where one and a half years old Shirou and six-month-old Clover were peacefully drooling on their blankets. Nothing. No monsters under the beds. No broken toys. No scary shadows.

"Everything's fine, sweetie," Yang said, returning to the living room and scooping Xia up. "See? Mommy checked everywhere. You're safe."

Xia buried her face in Yang's shoulder, still sobbing, then weakly pointed one chubby finger toward the mantle above the fireplace.

Yang and Jaune both turned to look.

The large family photo sat in its usual spot: Yang, Jaune, Xia, the twins, and babies Shirou and Clover all smiling at the camera from last Aslanmas. Nothing out of place.

Yang stepped closer, still holding Xia.

"What is it, honey? The picture?"

Xia nodded miserably.

Yang reached out and carefully lifted the frame off the mantle.

The second she did, a spider the size of a dinner plate—hairy, brown, and very angry—scuttled out from behind it and dropped straight onto the floor.

Yang's eyes went wide.

"GYAAAAAHHH!"

Her Semblance flared on instinct. A golden explosion of fire and force erupted from her fist, blasting the spider into oblivion… and taking a large chunk of the living room wall with it. Plaster and wood exploded outward in a cloud of dust, leaving a gaping hole that now framed the night sky.

Silence fell.

Xia had stopped crying. She stared at the hole with wide, watery eyes, then looked up at her mother.

Jaune slowly turned his head to stare at the destruction, then at Yang. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Yang's cheeks flushed bright red. She cleared her throat, still holding Xia.

"…It was a big spider."

Jaune's smirk widened into a full grin.

"Yeah, yeah… least Xia's stopped crying."

Xia sniffled once, then gave a tiny, hiccupping giggle.

Yang groaned and buried her burning face in her daughter's hair.

"I hate spiders."

Jaune chuckled, already reaching for the Scroll to call the repair service.

"I know, babe. I know."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian's country road glowed with warm lamplight as Jaune and Emerald walked slowly back toward their home on the Arc estate. The dinner at Papa Shirou's had been perfect—Emerald's favorite spicy lamb skewers, extra naan for the baby, and Jaune stealing bites of her dessert when he thought she wasn't looking. She was six months along now, the gentle curve of her belly barely visible beneath her loose green tunic, but Jaune kept one protective hand on the small of her back the entire walk.

"I hope Mercury didn't get too overwhelmed," Jaune said with a chuckle, keys jingling as they reached their front door. "Amethyst and Onyx can be a handful even on a good day."

Emerald smirked, rubbing her belly. "He'll be fine. He's survived worse than two toddlers with glitter glue."

The second Jaune turned the key, the door flew open.

Mercury stood in the doorway like a man who had survived a war.

Glitter sparkled across his silver hair and face like war paint. Bright pink and blue eyeshadow had been applied with the enthusiasm and skill of a monkey on cocaine. Around his neck hung a tangle of paper-chain necklaces, his wrists clinked with mismatched beaded bracelets, and a crooked paper crown sat lopsided on his head. In each arm he held a giggling toddler: three-year-old Amethyst in her favorite purple dress, and two-year-old Onyx in a tiny black hoodie.

Both children beamed at their parents and waved enthusiastically.

"Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy!" Amethyst chirped.

"Hi!" Onyx echoed, waving a glitter-covered hand.

Mercury set the kids down with deliberate care, then pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one with shaking fingers.

"I'm done," he declared flatly. "You've created horrible monsters."

Amethyst and Onyx immediately clutched at his legs.

"Nooo! Uncle Mercury, don't go!" Amethyst whined.

"Stay!" Onyx demanded, lower lip trembling.

Mercury growled, gently prying tiny hands off his pants. "I said I'm done."

He stalked off down the path without another word, cigarette smoke trailing behind him like a white flag of surrender.

Jaune and Emerald each scooped up a child: Jaune taking Onyx, Emerald lifting Amethyst into her arms. The toddlers waved at Mercury's retreating back.

"Goodnight, Uncle Mercury!" they called in unison.

Mercury raised one hand in a lazy wave over his shoulder, never looking back.

Emerald watched him go, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. She shifted Amethyst higher on her hip and called after him.

"So… same time next week?"

Mercury stopped mid-step. His shoulders slumped. A long, defeated sigh escaped him. Slowly, he turned around, cigarette dangling from his lips.

He gave a single, reluctant nod.

"…Sure."

Emerald's smile widened into a full, delighted grin.

"Great!"

Mercury muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "I need a raise" and kept walking.

Jaune laughed softly, pressing a kiss to Onyx's glittery forehead. Emerald leaned into his side, Amethyst already playing with her hair.

Inside the house, the lights were still on. The living room looked like a glitter bomb had exploded. Paper chains hung from every lamp. The coffee table was covered in crayon drawings of "Uncle Mercury the Dragon King."

Jaune looked at the chaos, then at his very pregnant wife, and smiled. Emerald cuddled her child to her breast, her tone wistful.

"You know... I tortured him before... But he never asked for more afterwards."

"You're absolutely diabolical," Jaune chuckled.

Emerald smirked.

"Aren't I?"

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Nicholas's glyphs lit up the forest floor in glowing gold lines as he skated at full speed, Amethyst clinging to his back like a terrified koala.

"Faster! FASTER!" she shrieked in his ear.

"I'm trying!" Nicholas hissed back, pouring more Aura into the glyph trail. Behind them the sounds of battle were already ridiculous—steel ringing, explosions, someone (probably Xia) yelling "DODGE!" at the top of her lungs, and the unmistakable BOOM of Nick's railgun sword firing.

Nicholas risked a glance over his shoulder.

Nick had somehow already slipped past every single one of his grandchildren. The man was a golden blur, laughing like a maniac as he closed the distance with terrifying speed. Xander was on the ground trying to get up. Petra was tied to a tree with her own chain-sickle. Ash and Ashley were firing wildly into the trees, missing completely, before an Aura Slash from Nick forced them to scatter. Dorothy was floating upside-down, clearly disoriented.

"Grandpa's cheating!" Amethyst wailed.

Nicholas couldn't help a goofy grin on his face despite his terror.

"He's not cheating, he's just good-!"

Nick appeared right in front of them like he'd teleported.

Nicholas yelped and threw up a wall of glyphs. Nick's sword smashed through it like wet paper. Nicholas barely twisted in time, the flat of the blade whistling past his ear.

"Too slow, kid!" Nick grinned, already swinging again.

Nicholas dropped into a slide, glyphs flaring beneath his boots as he carried Amethyst under the horizontal slash. He kicked off a tree, reversed direction, and launched himself sideways just as Nick's follow-up strike cratered the ground where they'd been.

"XIA! XANDER! A LITTLE HELP?!" Nicholas shouted.

"WE'RE ON IT!" Xander shouted, opening fire on Nick from behind as Xia blasted herself at Nick and dropped down with an axe kick. Nick unleashed another railgun round as he rolled, using the recoil to speed up his dodge. Xia landed... Right in the path of Xander's fire.

"OW! DAMNIT XANDER!" Xia shouted. Xander shook his head.

"I'm sorry-I-LOOK OUT-!"

"DODDDDGE!" Nick bellowed.

There was another explosion and a very loud "OW, MY FACE!"

Nick cackled. "You kids are fast! But you're thinking like Huntsmen! I'm thinking like a grandpa who's been doing this for forty years!"

He suddenly dropped low and swept Nicholas's legs with the flat of his blade. Nicholas jumped—too high—and Nick was already there, rising like a golden rocket. His shoulder slammed into Nicholas's chest, sending both Nicholas and Amethyst flying.

Amethyst screamed as they tumbled through the air. Nicholas twisted mid-fall, wrapping his arms around her and taking the landing on his back. They hit hard, rolling across the mossy ground until they stopped against a tree.

Nicholas groaned. "You okay?"

Amethyst coughed, holding her head.

"I think I swallowed a leaf…"

Nick landed lightly a few meters away, sword resting on his shoulder, grinning like he was having the time of his life.

"First hit on the civilian!" he announced cheerfully. "Clocktower stairs. Five times. All of you. Now."

A collective groan rose from the trees as the rest of the kids dragged themselves out of various states of defeat.

"Already?!" Xia complained, picking pine needles out of her hair.

"We literally just started!" Xander protested.

Nick pointed his sword at them. "That's the point! In real fights, there is no 'just started.' There's only 'you're already losing.' Move it!"

The kids grumbled but obeyed, jogging toward the distant clocktower that overlooked the training grounds. Nicholas helped Amethyst to her feet and they joined the miserable procession.

As they ran, Nick fell into step beside them, still smiling.

"You did good, Nicholas," he said quietly. "Glyph acceleration on the fly like that? Not bad for someone who's never trained with me before. You're like Wills in her prime!"

Nicholas flushed. "Thanks, Grandpa."

Nick's grin widened. "But next time? Don't run in a straight line. And don't forget your shield can block me too. I'm big, but I'm not invincible."

Nicholas nodded seriously, already filing the advice away.

Behind them, Xia elbowed Xander. "He's having way too much fun with this."

Xander sighed. "He's Grandpa. Of course he's having fun beating up his grandchildren."

Amethyst, still catching her breath, looked up at Nicholas.

"…Do you think we'll actually survive this week?"

Nicholas looked back at his grandfather, currently laughing as he watched them struggle up the first flight of stairs, and smiled despite everything.

"Yeah," he said. "I think we will."

Nick's voice boomed from below.

"Faster! The Grimm won't wait for you to catch your breath, and neither will I!"

The kids groaned in unison and picked up the pace.

Nicholas glanced at his paradox half-siblings running beside him and felt something warm settle in his chest.

This… this was what family was supposed to feel like. He wasn't sure about the competition with all his alternate siblings, the risk of their own nonexistence... But this? This felt familiar. This felt safe.

Even if that family was currently trying to murder them in the woods for training purposes.

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Cinder's Timeline: The Siege of Evernight



Two years after Vytal



- - -



The throne room of Evernight Castle was a storm of shadow and fury.



Salem paced the obsidian floor like a caged beast, her pale face twisted in rage. Watts and Tyrian stood at the foot of her throne, heads bowed, as her voice echoed off the jagged walls.



"Vacuo was a catastrophe!" she snarled. "We may have gotten the Maiden powers, but everything else?! The Relic slipped through our fingers! Merlot and his precious super-Grimm—wiped out! And now you tell me that even after Atlas, even after everything, RWBY and that traitor Cinder still live? That the boy-Jaune Arc-draws breath?!"



She whirled on them, eyes blazing with ancient hatred.



"How many times must I remind you that failure is not an option?!"



Tyrian chuckled nervously, his devotion and fear warring with his survival instinct. Watts adjusted his glasses, sweat beading on his brow.



Before either could answer, the great doors burst open.



Iridescent stumbled in, panting, white hair disheveled, trying (and failing) to keep her usual bright smile plastered on her face. She looked like she'd run the entire length of the castle.



"My Queen!" she gasped. "I have… a report!"



Salem's gaze snapped to her like a guillotine blade.



"Speak."



Iridescent swallowed, still catching her breath. "Do… do you want the good news or the bad news first?"



Tyrian beamed, ever the sycophant. "The good news, of course! Always the good news for our divine queen!"



Iridescent's smile twitched.



"Right! Good news first, then! I… I figured out why we lost contact with all the Grimm Seers around the perimeter!"



Salem's eyes narrowed. "Why?"



Iridescent pointed dramatically at the tall, narrow windows across from the throne.



"Because of that."



Salem turned.



The sky outside was overcast, heavy with storm clouds. But even from miles away, the horizon was moving.



Hundreds—no, thousands—of airships were emerging from the gloom. Atlasian cruisers, Valean carriers, Mistralian battleships, even Vacuan raiders retrofitted with Dust cannons. The entire combined fleet of the Allied Kingdoms was bearing down on Evernight like a steel tsunami.



Salem's face went deathly still.



Then she thrust both hands outward. The castle's ancient magical barrier flared to life with a deep, violet hum.



A split second later, the world exploded.



A thunderous barrage of missiles, shells, and Dust artillery slammed into the barrier. The entire castle shook violently. Chandeliers of black crystal crashed to the floor. Dust rained from the ceiling. Explosions lit up the throne room in strobing flashes of fire and light.



Salem's voice rose above the chaos, furious and disbelieving.



"HOW DID THEY GET SO CLOSE?! THERE HAS TO BE A THOUSAND SHIPS OUT THERE!"



Iridescent cupped a hand to her ear, still smiling even as the floor bucked beneath her feet.



"WHAT?!"



Salem roared louder. "I SAID-HOW DID THEY GET SO CLOSE?!"



Iridescent blinked, still grinning like a lunatic. "WHAT?! I CAN'T HEAR YOU! THERE'S A THOUSAND SHIPS SHOOTING AT US!"



Watts had already dropped to the floor, fingers jammed in his ears, muttering to himself.



"I should have stopped at my Master's degree…"



Salem's head snapped toward him. "WHAT?!"



The bombardment continued without mercy.


- - -


Bridge of the Atlasian Flagship Leviathan



Far above the chaos, in the reinforced command center of the massive flagship, Grand Admiral Agrippa Thorn sat in his command chair like a king on a throne.



He was a striking figure—tall, broad-shouldered, with smooth blue skin that marked him as a rare Blue Frog Faunus, and sharp crimson eyes that missed nothing. His white uniform was immaculate, even as the deck vibrated from the continuous broadsides.



On the observation deck beside him stood RWBY, Jaune Arc, and Cinder Fall. All of them looked tense. Ruby's hands were clenched on the railing. Weiss kept adjusting her gloves. Yang's eyes glowed faintly red. Blake's ears twitched with every distant explosion. Jaune stood close to Cinder, one hand resting lightly on her shoulder.



Weiss finally spoke, voice tight.



"Admiral… may I ask why we aren't simply going in directly?"



Thorn didn't look away from the holographic display of the bombardment.



"You may, Miss Schnee. It is quite simple." He gestured at the tactical map. "First, we must establish a proper kill zone for any Grimm that attempt to reinforce Salem. This allows the ground assault the greatest chance of success once the barrier falls."



He tapped another screen, where Ozpin was working alongside the sensor officers.



"Second, Headmaster Ozpin is assisting our sensor teams in analyzing the magical barrier's resonance patterns. With his unique knowledge of magic, we can better understand Salem's defenses… and give Miss Rose the best possible chance of countering her when the time comes."



Ruby beamed, silver eyes bright with determination.



Thorn allowed himself a small, cold smile: The kind that promised only ruin for his enemies.



"Finally… while Salem may be immortal and indestructible, history shows she is not immune to psychological warfare. The terror and horror of sustained industrialized bombardment-hours, perhaps days-will erode her resolve. And it will most certainly fracture the loyalty of her servants."



Cinder's voice was low, venomous, and deeply satisfied.



"Plus… the bitch has it coming."



Thorn's crimson eyes flicked to her, the smile never wavering.



"Indeed, Miss Fall."



Cinder smirked, glancing sideways at Jaune.



"You see why Salem planned to have me kill him early?"



Jaune hissed through his teeth. "Cinder!"



Thorn chuckled-a dry, dangerous sound.



"Yes. That would have been wise."

 

[AndrewJTalon]

Radian, Vale

Five Years After Salem's Defeat

- - -

The cathedral in Radian was quiet in the way only ancient stone and centuries of reverence could manage. Sunlight filtered through tall stained-glass windows in soft shafts of gold and crimson, illuminating rows of simple wooden pews. No towering ice sculptures. No imported flowers from every kingdom. No orchestra. Just the gentle hum of distant birds outside and the faint scent of old incense and fresh pine wreaths.

Weiss Schnee stood before the tall mirror in the small dressing room off the nave, adjusting the simple white gown one last time. It was elegant, yes, but plain by Schnee standards. No extravagant train. No diamond tiara. No endless press (they were kept outside the city walls). Just clean lines, delicate lace at the sleeves, and a single blue ribbon at her waist the color of her eyes. She had wanted simple. She had insisted on simple. And for once, the world had listened.

A soft knock preceded the door opening.

Klein stepped inside, dressed in his finest formal suit, eyes already misty behind his glasses. He closed the door gently behind him and simply looked at her for a long moment.

Weiss turned, hands clasped in front of her.

"…Well?" she asked, a touch of nervousness in her voice. "Do I look all right?"

Klein's smile was warm and proud in a way that made her chest tighten.

"You look beautiful, Mistress Weiss. But more importantly…" He stepped closer, voice soft. "I am very, very proud of you."

Weiss's eyes shimmered. Before she could stop herself, she crossed the small room and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Klein let out a surprised but delighted chuckle and hugged her back just as fiercely, careful not to wrinkle her dress.

"Thank you," Weiss whispered against his shoulder. "For everything. For raising me when… when no one else would. For being there when I needed you most. And for… for walking me down the aisle today."

Klein pulled back just enough to look at her, eyes bright with unshed tears.

"I am honored, Miss Weiss. More than you will ever know."

Weiss smiled through her own tears, the kind that came from joy instead of pain for the first time in a very long while.

"I'm marrying the man I love," she said quietly, almost in awe. "In a little cathedral in a little town. With my family. With my friends. No politics. No nonsense. No expectations. Just… us."

Klein squeezed her hands gently.

"That," he said, "is exactly what you deserve."

From beyond the door came the soft swell of the organ beginning to play. Weiss took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and gave Klein one last grateful smile.

"Ready?" he asked.

Weiss nodded.

"Ready."

Klein offered her his arm. She took it.

Together, they stepped out into the golden light of the cathedral, where Jaune Arc waited at the altar with the biggest, brightest smile she had ever seen. Where all their friends waited.

And for the first time in her life, Weiss Schnee felt truly, completely at home.