It was a late morning at Beacon Academy. No classes. No training. No emergencies. Just a rare, quiet free day.
Ruby sat at her desk in the girl's dormitory, sunlight streaming through the nearby window as she scribbled the last sentence of her homework. A light smile played on her face as her eyes wandered to nothing in particular, lost in her thoughts.
A lot has happened this month…
She thought back to the highlights—the good, the weird, and the downright ridiculous.
The fight between Nora and Yang was probably the most entertaining. It started off playful, but by the end, it got intense. Yang nearly had it, but then Nora just went full-on super Nora, blitzing Yang before she could react. Ruby still wasn't sure if Nora had rocket fuel in her veins or just an unnatural amount of pancakes that morning.
Then there was that time Jaune and Cardin got in trouble during Combat Tactics. Ruby still didn't know what the deal was between them, but whatever happened, Professor Remington gave them a glare so intense it could've made an Alpha Ursa run for the hills. Even now, the memory gave her goosebumps.
And of course, the food fight.
Team RWBY versus Team JNPR. Flying trays. Mashed potatoes used as weapons. Nora dual-wielding turkey legs. Pyrrha accidentally deflected a pudding cup into Blake's face. Absolute chaos—but Team RWBY had emerged victorious. Ruby still considered it their greatest tactical win so far.
Her smile grew a little wider.
Just then, Weiss walked into the room. She noticed Ruby's grin and raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. "What are you smiling all happily about?"
Ruby blinked back to the present and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, nothing. Just thinking about the past month."
Weiss gave a small laugh, her usual sharpness softened. "Well, you can keep reminiscing on the way to Vale. Everyone's ready. We finally have some downtime."
Ruby glanced at the time on her scroll and let out a tiny gasp. "Oh wow, it's already that late? I guess we should get going then."
The two made their way to the dorm's common area, where Yang and Blake were waiting by the door.
Yang greeted them with a cheeky grin. "About time. I was starting to think Weiss was giving you another lecture."
Weiss narrowed her eyes. "You're one to talk, considering how long it took you to decide which sunglasses to bring."
Blake, standing quietly by the door with her book tucked under her arm, added softly, "We all knew you were going to go with the red ones anyway."
Yang smirked. "Red's classic. What can I say?"
Ruby laughed, the banter making her heart feel light. The four of them stepped out of the dorm and began their walk toward the docks, where an airship waited to take them into the city of Vale.
For once, there were no monsters to fight. No drills. No surprises.
The streets of Vale bustled with life, the mid-day sun casting a warm glow over the cobbled walkways and sleek storefronts. Team RWBY walked side-by-side, each taking in the sights and sounds with a sense of eager freedom.
The streets of Vale bustled with life, the mid-morning sun casting a warm glow over the cobbled walkways and sleek storefronts. Team RWBY walked side-by-side, each taking in the sights and sounds with a sense of eager freedom.
"This place is always so lively," Ruby said, twirling slightly as they passed a bakery with fresh pastries in the window. "I kinda missed coming here."
"Well, it's our first real break in a month," Yang added, stretching her arms behind her head. "I say we make the most of it."
"Oh, I know where we're going first," Weiss chimed in, an almost regal tone in her voice. "Shopping. And not just any shopping. Today, we fix all of your wardrobes."
Ruby blinked, turning to her. "Wait, what's wrong with my clothes?"
Weiss gave her a long, disappointed look, then sighed dramatically as she placed a hand on her chest. "My young student in fashion… you have so much to learn."
Yang laughed. "Uh oh, Ruby. She's going full heiress on you."
"I thought I looked cool…" Ruby mumbled, tugging lightly at her cloak.
"You look like a hunter with a closet stuck in the past," Weiss replied flatly. "Trust me. A little style won't hurt your edge."
Before Ruby could argue back, Blake pointed ahead. "Is that it?"
At the end of the next block stood a stylish boutique with a shimmering glass front and an elegant sign overhead: Chocolate Chanel – CC Clothing.
The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted by the soft scent of perfume and the rich textures of velvet, silk, and polished wood. Rows of the latest fashion lined the walls—designer coats, patterned skirts, flowing scarves, and chic jackets. Mannequins modeled sleek outfits and elegant ensembles. Jewelry displays shimmered nearby, with pearl necklaces and jeweled earrings laid out like treasure.
"Okay, I'll admit," Yang said, whistling. "This place is kinda fancy."
Weiss beamed. "Only the best for Team RWBY."
"Just… don't turn this into a total makeover montage," Ruby said, eyeing a mannequin wearing a glittering fur-lined coat.
"No promises," Weiss said with a sly smile as she picked up a crimson scarf and gently wrapped it around Ruby's neck. "But let's at least find you something that doesn't scream 'small town cloak-and-dagger.'"
Ruby sighed, but the look of contentment never left her face. Despite Weiss's teasing, it was nice… doing something normal.
Meanwhile back at Beacon, the late morning sun cast long shadows over a quieter, more secluded corner of the campus—an area behind one of the training halls where few students wandered. The quiet was shattered as Jaune Arc hit the ground with a hard thud, a grunt escaping him as dirt clung to his uniform.
Towering over him stood Cardin Winchester, flanked by his cronies from Team CRDL. Cardin sneered down at him, arms crossed in superiority.
"Where do you get off thinking you're worth anything?" Cardin scoffed.
Jaune groaned, slowly pushing himself up on one elbow, his face bruised and body sore from the fall. Still, his voice came out steady. "Does it make you feel big, Cardin? Putting someone else down?"
Cardin's expression darkened. "Shut it, Arc. You're nothing without that Spartan lady protecting you." He leaned down closer, lowering his voice to a venomous whisper. "Especially with that fake transcript of yours."
Jaune's eyes widened slightly. He looked down, lips pressed tight.
"You think you'll ever be something? You're just a pathetic loser," Cardin continued, each word landing like a weight on Jaune's back. "Eventually, even your team will see you for what you really are."
With one final shove that sent Jaune rolling onto his side, Cardin turned and strutted away, his team laughing as they followed him, disappearing down the corridor.
For a moment, Jaune lay there in silence, his fists clenched in frustration, trying to hold back the sting behind his eyes.
Then… a voice came from nearby.
"You okay there, buddy?"
Startled, Jaune looked up. From behind one of the stone pillars emerged a tall figure—his presence commanding yet calm. He wore a deep blue cloak draped over finely crafted armor, the metal etched with elegant patterns. A hood partially obscured his face, but his blond hair shone like gold in the sunlight. A well-worn scabbard hung at his side.
He offered a gloved hand.
"I'm used to it," Jaune muttered, taking the hand hesitantly. "Nothing's broken anyway."
The man helped him to his feet and gave him a once-over. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but… it seems like you've got a lot going on."
Jaune looked away, uncertain. He didn't respond.
The man continued, gently but directly, "You know, it takes a lot of guts to forge documents just to get into the most prestigious Huntsman Academy in the world."
That made Jaune freeze. His eyes snapped back to the man's.
"…Are you gonna report me?"
To his surprise, the man laughed—a deep, hearty laugh, not mocking, but almost… proud.
"Report you? No. If anything, I'm impressed." His tone shifted—stronger now, but not unkind. "I think I'd like to help you."
Jaune blinked, completely thrown off. "Help me? Who even are you?"
The stranger paused, then offered a small smile as he unclasped his cloak, letting it fall back and revealing the full crest of a lion engraved across his chestplate.
"My apologies. I should have introduced myself properly."
He placed a hand on his chest with a slight, knightly bow.
"You may call me Arthur Pendragon."
Earlier that same day
A soft ding echoed through the air as the elevator doors opened. The tall, commanding figure of Arthur Pendragon stepped out, his armored boots clicking softly on the polished floor of Ozpin's towering, circular office. The walls of glass behind the headmaster gave a breathtaking view of Beacon and the forest beyond.
Arthur removed the hood of his cloak as he approached the center of the room, his presence magnetic and composed.
"Hello, Ozpin," Arthur greeted with a respectful nod.
Ozpin stood from his desk, cup of coffee in hand. "Arthur. Welcome. I'm sorry to have called you in on such short notice, but this is a matter of great importance."
Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly, ever focused. "I understand. What is it that required you to summon me?"
Ozpin gestured toward one of the chairs near his desk. "Please, sit. Let's get right to it."
Arthur took the seat, back straight, posture disciplined. His eyes never left Ozpin's.
The headmaster's usual calm demeanor took on a rare weight as he began. "We've received troubling news. Raven has reported in—our enemies are here, Arthur. In Vale. And they have been… for quite some time."
Arthur's expression grew grim. He didn't interrupt. He listened.
"They're moving in the shadows, using Vale's criminal underworld to push their agenda. We don't yet know the full scope of it, but it's deliberate. Coordinated. Dangerous." Ozpin took a sip of his drink before continuing. "I know your missions often take you far beyond the kingdoms, but I'm asking—no, I'm urging—you to stay closer. If something happens… we'll need you."
Arthur leaned back slightly, his armored fingers interlocked in thought. "I understand what you're asking. But you know as well as I do—there are Grimm wreaking havoc out there every day. Not every village is protected like Vale. If I stay, who protects them?"
Ozpin gave a slight nod, expecting the answer. "I'll see to it that more Huntsmen are dispatched. We'll redistribute our assets. But you're not just a Huntsman, Arthur. You're our most powerful shield. And if things are escalating the way I fear… I need that shield here."
Arthur fell silent for a moment, weighing the words carefully. Then he gave a slow nod.
"Very well. I'll limit my assignments to within a day's travel. And I'll check in more often. I'm sure my daughter wouldn't mind seeing me from time to time, either."
Ozpin's lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "Thank you, my friend. I suspect once Qrow reports in, we'll have a clearer picture."
Arthur stood, adjusting the cloak over his shoulder. "When the time comes, you can count on me, Ozpin. But for now, I think I'll take a walk around the campus. It's been a while."
Ozpin gestured toward the elevator. "Of course. Oh, and—if you're looking for Ruby, I believe she and her team went into Vale earlier today."
Arthur waved casually as he stepped into the elevator. "Then I suppose I'll just enjoy the quiet while I can."
The doors closed with a soft hiss, and the room returned to stillness.
Back to Present with Juane
In a quiet corner of Beacon's sprawling grounds, far from the eyes of other students, two figures stood across from each other in the shade of an open-air training arena. On one side was Jaune Arc, gripping his sword and shield with nervous determination. On the other stood the legendary Arthur Pendragon, holding a simple training sword in one hand, his posture relaxed, yet utterly focused.
"All right, young Arc," Arthur said calmly, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Why don't you show me what you've got?"
Jaune blinked, trying to process how he had ended up in this surreal moment—training with the most famous Huntsman in the world. His heart pounded in his chest.
"Okay, sir… here I go!" he called out, pushing away his nerves as he rushed forward.
Jaune swung his sword in wide arcs, each slash filled with effort but lacking control. His stance was too open, his footing uneven, and his shield forgotten at his side.
Arthur easily dodged every swing with smooth, practiced footwork. His body barely moved more than necessary—precise, efficient, almost effortless.
"Come now, Jaune," Arthur instructed, his tone patient but firm. "Mind your footing—your arms and legs must work together. Swinging a sword isn't just about hitting your opponent. It's about reading them, learning their rhythm, and placing your blade where it needs to be."
Jaune stumbled back a step, lowering his sword and taking a breath. He replayed Arthur's words in his mind—reading them, placing your blade. He thought of Glynda's emphasis on poise and observation… of Professor Remington's cold analysis of combat situations. He centered himself and raised his blade again, this time with a little more care.
Arthur raised a brow in surprise. That's quick, he thought. The boy's form was still rough, his stance still untrained, but now… now he was watching. He wasn't just swinging blindly anymore—he was analyzing.
Arthur decided to push him further. In a sudden blur, he dashed forward, his blade dancing through the air as he launched a flurry of light but focused strikes. Jaune's eyes widened, and he barely raised his shield in time to block. Then came a parry, a sidestep, another swing—Jaune responded, clumsy but deliberate, trying to adapt with every move.
There was something there. Something real.
Arthur stepped in close and, with a twist of his wrist, disarmed Jaune, sending his sword clattering to the ground.
"Not bad, kid."
Jaune looked at the ground, breath heavy, self-doubt creeping into his voice. "I… I was really bad, wasn't I?"
To his surprise, Arthur shook his head, stepping forward and placing a hand on Jaune's shoulder.
"Not at all," Arthur said with absolute sincerity. "I see potential in you, Jaune. You may not have come here the way others did, but you are here—and that matters. Everything happens for a reason. Whether you believe you belong or not doesn't change the fact that you do. And I believe one day, you'll become a fine Huntsman."
Jaune looked up, his voice barely above a whisper. "You… really think so?"
Arthur nodded. "I do. And I'm going to help you get there."
"Help me? How?"
Arthur gave a light, confident smile. "I'll train you personally—the same way I was trained, back when I was a Huntsman-in-training myself. I'll be around Beacon more often now. During your free time, I'll find you… and together, we'll forge a warrior out of you."
Jaune stood there, stunned. A month ago, he had been faking his way through every class, barely holding it together. Now the greatest Huntsman alive was offering to train him.
His chest swelled with emotion, and he could feel tears prick at the corners of his eyes. But this time, they weren't from fear… they were from hope.
"…Thank you," Jaune said softly. "Thank you so much."
Arthur stepped back and gestured to the discarded training sword. "Now, pick that up. We've only just begun."
A/N: Hello I hope you enjoyed a little of Juane as a character. We'll be developing him further going forward and going into what happened this last month. Why does Cardin know he forged his application? How long has Cardin been bullying him? Will bro get stronger? I promise to answer all this in the next episode of Dragon ball… I mean RWBY: A Dragon's Heart! Arthur-Kun out o7