#A friend stated that my tolerance is somewhat on par with his friend who is at least twice my size

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I regret to inform you that I am intoxicated, by alcohol. If you wish to inquire something, perhaps as to why I have such a compelling need to type in such a presomptuous manner you're free to do so

[josefavomjaaga]

Helfert, Joachim Murat, Chapter 5, Part 4

We’re still not finished with the Bourbon stuff, after their return to Naples.

Otherwise, Naples had nothing but praise for the attitude of the returned royal family. By their very nature, the loyal followers of the royal family who had come with him to the old homeland and those who had remained there, who had been of some value under the foreign rule, who had acquired positions and wealth, constantly had cause for jealousy and friction; "fedeloni" and "murattini" was the name they gave each other, not without a certain ironic flavour. The King and Prince Leopold, however, showed a sincere desire not to make any distinction between the two categories, which became apparent, for example, in the composition of the supreme war college. Both of them behaved condescendingly, even kindly, towards the Murat generals, if there was nothing else to reproach them for, and distinguished some of them. Guglielmo Pepe was very pleasantly surprised at the way in which Leopold, at the first introduction he had with his brother Florestan, behaved towards them, how he spoke of Caroline Murat as "Queen", indulged in eulogies about the Neapolitan army, called on him, Guglielmo, to write a memorandum about the last campaign, which, in order to do justice to the honour of the defeated army, could be printed somewhere in London or Holland. The same was the case with the higher civil officials of the overthrown regiment, who were by no means entirely removed from their posts and replaced by "Fedeloni". However, it was not possible to remain silent about everything that had happened recently, especially in the army. A commission was set up to investigate the conduct and abilities of some 200 officers against whom complaints had been lodged in connection with the last campaign, and also to examine the legality of the most recent promotions and decorations, for which the relevant patents had not yet been issued. But here, too, the sense of justice of Ferdinand and his councillors was revealed, in that he composed this commission under the chairmanship of Guglielmo Pepe from generals and commanders of the disbanded army and gave it instructions that met all the requirements of fairness. Much that was done to promote the internal conditions had an even more favourable effect. A commission headed by Prince Cardito had to place public education from rural schools to universities on a new footing. The charitable institutions, the Monte di Misericordia, the Committee for Public Charity, which were often paralysed as a result of the efforts of the last Murat campaign, were remedied by generous contributions from the King's private coffers. All this had a charitable effect on public traffic. "Our trade", it was said in a Neapolitan correspondence of the "Wiener Zeitung" (No. 267 p. 1059), "receives new life; in our harbour, where it has been quiet for many years, there is a completely different appearance, domestic and foreign ships are constantly leaving and others arriving". A very delicate, even spiteful point was the "donations of goods and revenues granted during the military occupation of Generals Giuseppe Buonaparte and Gioacchino Murat", which, if the royal promises of 1 May and 4 June were interpreted generously, would have been conserved, while the government now claimed that those clauses, on the basis of the Vienna Treaty of 29 April, referred only to the purchase of state estates, not to the gifting of them to mere favourites. Even before the arrival of Prince Jablonovski, Count Saurau, Imperial and Royal Court Commissioner to Bianchi's army, had repeatedly demanded clarifications from the Royal Cabinet on this matter, to which he had not received an answer. Jablonovski followed in Saurau's footsteps, although he did not conceal to himself the fact that it would be hard for the king to accept favours from the two intermediary regents which had been made at the expense of his most loyal supporters. He insisted that at least those donations be respected which Murat had entered in the "great book" and which consequently formed part of the public debt undoubtedly guaranteed by Austria and conceded by Ferdinand, and in this sense a royal resolution of 14 August was indeed passed.

But now came the further question concerning those donations which were not entered in the great book of the public debt and which were consequently subject to royal confiscation.  It seems that Ferdinand wanted to have complete freedom of disposal over them, either to give them to the crown or, as Murat had done before him, to give them away to his followers, whereas the Austrian envoy argued before the king that the property confiscated in this way should revert to those from whom it had been taken by the previous government. Ferdinand was somewhat embarrassed, but finally said: "You are right, I will think it over", and soon afterwards the order was given to the Minister Tommasi to set up a commission to examine the principles laid down by the former feudal committee and to work out a plan for offering some compensation to the old families who had suffered most. The two presidents of the Court of Cassation and Accounts, Prince Sirignano and Marchese Vivenzio, Dr. Giacinto Troysi and Marchese di Vigo, were members of this committee, which soon showed itself anxious to give the royal right of confiscation the widest possible extension. In a memorandum, Vigo tried to prove that monastery estates were not to be regarded as state property, from which it should follow without doubt that the king was not bound by the treaty of 29 April and could therefore confiscate them and dispose of them as he pleased. Jablonovski also resisted this view until he received instructions from Prince Metternich that, once the royal decree of 14 August had become a fact and the Neapolitan government was determined to implement it, he should not interfere any further in the whole matter so as not to expose himself to a final refusal or, in the other case, to have to bear joint responsibility for what might happen next. In the midst of these tasks and conflicts of opinion, which touched so many and so profound interests, stirred up such fierce and ugly passions, came the news of a visit of several weeks which Lord and Lady Bentinck intended to pay to Ferdinand's regained capital. The decrepit Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs was struck with terror, while the news did not ring at all unpleasantly in the ears of reform-minded Medici. The king was on Circello's side and no longer wanted to have anything to do with His Lordship, with whom he had been on such good terms during his last stay in Sicily. One did not have to look far for the reason for this reluctance. Ferdinand had never been a friend of constitutional institutions; after the experiment he had had to undergo in Sicily, they were anathema to him. Since the recent turn of events, however, the noble lord had become the object of other suspicions: he was presumed to be in secret communication with all the free-thinkers of the peninsula, especially with the Carbonari, and to have a hand in all the machinations which emanated from that quarter. For the same reason, Lucian Buonaparte's stay in Rome was a thorn in the side of the Neapolitan cabinet, because they considered him to be one of the heads of the Carbonari, a comrade-in-arms of Bentinck, and were convinced that he would be encouraged and supported by the latter. Austria had to promise his best services to obtain Lucian's removal from Rome and to arrange another place for him to stay. In Naples, they did not dare to appeal directly to the papal chair, since they were, as it seems, on no better terms with it than they had been under Joachim Murat.

Inserted footnote (pointless, but kinda funny):

But the Viennese Cabinet and its representative in Rome also had their incessant frictions with the Curia, as can be seen from a highly piquant passage in Jablonovski's dispatch of 12 July: "Å Rome je suis descendu chez le Chevalier de Lebzeltern que j'ai trouvé tourmenté par la fièvre et par le Cardinal Consalvi, je ne sais lequel des deux maux lui paraissait plus facile à supporter. J'ai appris à mon arrivée ici qu'il avait été soulagé, et que le Comte de Saurau avait tâché de calmer le courroux et d'assouvir l'insatiabilité du Ministre de Sa Sainteté". It was probably the Cardinal's stubborn insistence that the principalities of Benevento and Pontecorvo of Naples be handed over to the Papal States that is alluded to here.

The French passage in English: »In Rome I stayed with the Chevalier de Lebzeltern, whom I found tormented by fever and by Cardinal Consalvi, I do not know which of the two evils he found easier to bear. I learned on my arrival here that he had been relieved, and that the Count of Saurau had tried to calm the wrath and to satisfy the insatiability of His Holiness' Minister.«

One might argue that if the new government did not get along any better with their neighbours than the old one had, they might have just kept Murat.

Even in the delicate Bentinck question, our envoy was taken into confidence. Jablonovski advised Minister Circello to write a very kind letter to Florence, where Lord William was staying at the time, describing the immense joy the King would feel at seeing him again, i.e. at any other time, but not now "when the evil-minded might take advantage of his presence and use his name for the scattering and spreading of opinions which it would be impossible to tolerate". The letter, however, did not meet Bentinck either at the right time or in the right mood. His lordship, never accustomed to be disturbed in his intentions by foreign objections, gave nothing to Circello's chosen phrases and dropped anchor on the quay at Naples on one of the last days of September. Now danger was imminent and Count Nugent, being half Bentinck's compatriot, took the risk of convincing the noble lord that the air was more favourable for him anywhere than here between the sea and Mount Vesuvius. After two hours of negotiation, an agreement was reached: Lord William would not set foot on land, but his lady would stay in Naples until arrangements had been made for her accommodation in Rome.

Jablonovski hurried to Circello with the good news. The Marchese was about to sit down to dinner without having any sense of its pleasures, for he looked very dejected and thought that the British troublemaker might enter at any moment. Then the Austrian envoy arrived and Circello now knew no end to his joy and expressions of gratitude. An express messenger was immediately dispatched to Caserta, from where Ferdinand wrote back the next morning: "I recognise Prince Jablonovski in this! Thank him in my name and tell him that if he has given you back your appetite for your dinner, he has given me a peaceful night".

It’s somewhat refreshing to see that even Ferdinand couldn’t stand Bentinck. That’s what you get for picking a semi-literate dimwit like Ferdinand over Joachim, your Lordship.

Unfortunately, we’re now approaching the last chapter. And there will not be a happy ending.

[the-god-of-nihon]

Writing Idea: It’s called an AU pt2

Future Jaune cleans up, shows off his middle-aged man bod, then has a long story time with Ozpin. Also his semblance comes in real handy.

_______________________________________________________________________

As his three teammates went about their business, getting dressed preparing for their day. Team RWBY coming and going out of JNPR’s room as they did the same. Jaune sat on his bed engrossed in watching them do tasks he hadn’t seen them do for years. A stab of sorrow pierced through him; this was all so familiar, but far away in his memory.

“Jaune?” Pyrrha called out to him as she brushed her hair, “the shower is free if you want to clean up.”

He looked at himself, at his ragged clothes, and the dirt on his skin, “yeah that’s probably a good idea.” As he pulled off his shoulders the remains of a cloak, revealing attached at his left shoulder a metallic arm. Clean, not pristine, but clearly better maintained than the rest of him.

“Jaune! You’re a cyborg!” Nora rushed over to him taking his mechanical arm in her hands and examining it in wonder.

“A prosthetic . . .” Ren trailing after her, eyeing the appendage noticing an engraving of a rose on the shoulder plate.

“You lost your arm.” Not a question, but a statement Pyrrha had halted her brushing as she stared at the arm as Nora handled it, “when did you lose your arm?”

“Around 10 years ago,” he said simply, the image of Nora messing around with Jaune as he tolerated her antics was nothing new, but the context left an uncomfortable silence in the air. “Guy’s it’s really not that big of a deal, given our career path it’s pretty par for the course.”

“Right. You’re right. Apologies I shouldn’t have stared,” Ren quick to apologize went back to straightening out his bed.

“Do you need help taking your clothes off?” Pyrrha asked genuinely concerned, eyes still on the mechanical limb.

“Why Pyrrha I never thought you’d be so forward,” Jaune teased, almost immediately grimacing. Although nobody noticed, as Pyrrha turned red like a tomato, sending Nora giggling back onto her bed as Jaune waved apologetically, “thanks for the concern, but I’ve had this thing long enough to know how to handle it.”

After the first hot shower in who knows how long, Jaune was feeling better than ever. Trimming his beard from extremely shaggy, to sort of shaggy, and tying his long hair back in a ponytail.

“Jaune we borrowed some clothes from for you to wear until your clothes are clean.” Pyrrha called from the other side of the door.

“Thanks, “Jaune replied as he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door. Something his team had clearly not expected when they all did a double take at the sight of his topless form.

“Jaune, lookin good!” Nora whistled at Jaune, then pretended to root around in her wallet, “how much to lose the towel?”

“Nora!” Pyrrha again beat red, shoved the borrowed clothes into his arms, and rushed out the open doorway.

Jaune raised an eyebrow, and looked at Ren for some clarification as if he being topless was something unusual.

“For someone with your aura, you have quite a number of scars.” Ren returned Jaune’s look before going back to examining the scars scattered over his torso.

“Well you know me, never know when to quit,” Jaune said as he slipped the large shirt, and pair of pants on, “ran out of aura few too many times, but I learned my lesson. For the most part.”

“We have classes soon, will you be okay alone, should we stay?” Ren asked placing the book he was reading in his lap.

“Don’t skip on my account, those are valuable lessons Oobleck and Port are giving you.” Jaune gave a derisive snort, smirking as he waved them off.

“Okay, well just behave yourself, and we’ll be back in a few hours.” Pyrrha calling out as she was exiting.

“I’m not a puppy. I’ll probably go finish telling Ozpin about my timeline, then take a walk around campus. Haven’t seen this place in nearly 20 years after all.” Jaune smiles fondly, then laughs to himself, “You have fun with Oobleck, maybe tell him I’m absent because I got switched with an alternate universe version of myself, see how he reacts.”

“Will do!” Nora piped up giving a salute before marching out the door, Ren in tow shaking his head.

Jaune stretched out with a groan, and then went on his way to Ozpin’s office. His memory was reliable enough, though he could have sworn the carpet had been a different color. Jaune stopped in front of the elevator up to Ozpin’s office, “maybe I should take the stairs.” He sighed as the opened the doors, and stepped inside, “Up, not down. Not down.” Jaune clenched his eyes shut when the walls suddenly felt like they were closing in, and counted until he reached the top floor.

“Ah Mr. Arc, you are looking much better now,” Ozpin sat at his desk, a bundle of papers in front of him. Glynda standing to the side, turned to see Jaune, her eyes catching onto the mechanical arm.

Jaune face slightly pallid approached Ozpin’s desk, taking a few labored breathes, before smiling. “It’s surprising what a shower and shave can do to a bum,” Jaune quipped resting his good hand on the back of a chair.

“Please sit,” Ozpin motions to the chair infront of him, moving the papers in front of him to the side, “I’d like to hear more about the world you come from, is that alright?”

“I can only tell you what I know,” Jaune points out as he settles into the seat, declining the offering of a beverage, “where should I start?”

“Of course, of course,” Ozpin sips from his mug, “as for where to start, how about from the beginning.”

And thus Jaune recounted his life’s story all the way up to the Vytal Festival, Glynda growing somewhat agitated as the story droned on.

“Mr. Arc, while I appreciate learning about my students, that was not quite what I meant,” Ozpin adjusted his glasses, and filled his mug again.

“You did say from the beginning, you need to be more specific,” Jaune smirked, feeling a little self-satisfied. Although he flinched when Glynda raised her crop in warning, “okay okay, sorry. Now onto the Vytal Festival.”

Jaune explained what knew, and what he’d seen, it was all very normal. Students everywhere, food stalls, fights, camaraderie, and youthful exuberance. He spoke about how nearing the finals of the tournament Pyrrha became unsure on herself, and came to him with some questions he hadn’t understood at the time, how she’d seemed so distraught. Honestly it made Jaune a bit happy to see Ozpin and Glynda subtly shift when he told them how worried he’d been about Pyrrha. Then came the first match of the finals, Yang against Mercury Black, when Yang had been tricked into being disqualified.

“So then the matches after that were pretty standard, no maiming or over the top violence,” Jaune gesturing as he spoke, “but then Pyrrha went up against Penny Polendina, a huntress-in-training from Atlas. Who we found out was actually an android.”

That got their attention, Ozpin’s eyes grew wide and he hastily set his mug down, while Glynda uncrossed her arms and stepped forward, “An android? As in a robot?”

“From what Ruby told me about her, Penny was the first artificial human ever capable of generating an aura.” Jaune spoke recalling Ruby opening up about another friend she had lost in the Fall of Beacon, “ask Ironwood about it, he helped make her.”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to do that,” Ozpin sat back into his chair, fingers entwined in front of his face, “continue please.”

“Well Pyrrha killed Penny,” Jaune stated simply, “due to her unstable emotional state she lost control of her semblance, which made Penny’s own weapons turn against her.” Jaune clasped his hand together and rested them on his knees, “and that- that was the start of one of the worst nights of my life.”

“Do you believe you were sent back to divert these events, Mr. Arc?”

Jaune spoke quietly shaking his head, “I doubt it, I was in the middle of nowhere before I woke up here, not exactly near any singularities or mad scientists secret labs. Besides if the whole multiverse thing has any standing, it wouldn’t matter what I did here, it wouldn’t change my future. I don’t know how far back, but at least the events of the Vytal Festival had been orchestrated by someone, the person who is hunting the maidens.”

The sound of a mug being dropped could never be so sweet, as the contents of Ozpin’s mug spilled across his desk. “I’m afraid I do not follow Mr. Arc.”

“Don't’ bullshit me Ozpin,” Jaune sat forward, slamming a hand on the desk, “I know about the woman in the vault. I know that the woman in the machine was a fairy tale maiden with magical powers. I know you’re planning on choosing Pyrrha to take her place.” The three sat in silence, Jaune hoping to whatever gods there may be that this was a timeline where all that was going to happen, and he hadn’t just made an ass of himself.

“Yes, you are correct,” the headmaster sighed, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe up the mess, “where is this going Mr. Arc?”

“You die.” Jaune looks Ozpin in the eye, “well kind of, given later events.”

“I die?” Ozpin inquired casually as if he hadn’t just been told of his own demise.

“Sort of. A woman named Cinder follows us down to the vault and kills the fall maiden. Partially my fault, I was supposed to keep guard.” Jaune exhales and rubs his neck, “but to allow Pyrrha and I to escape you stay to fight her, and lose. You ended up in the head of a young boy named Oscar, but we didn’t find that out until later.”

“Ah, I see.” Jaune had never expected to see Ozpin, as well as Glynda, at a loss for words.

“After you lost to Cinder, Pyrrha took it upon herself to stop her,” Jaune’s gaze fell to the floor, “you can guess how that went.”

“I . . . am sorry, Mr. Arc,” Ozpin offered remorsefully, Jaune nodded back.

“But due to that, Ruby activated her Silver-eyed warrior powers,” Jaune continued, lacing his fingers behind his head, “I guess there was some kind of magical power bargain sale I missed.” “But that sent Cinder running, and froze the giant Grimm Dragon that had taken a perch on Beacon Tower. Oh yeah, a giant Grimm dragon came out of a mountain, and started dropping grimm juice all over the city.”

“Gods,” Glynda breathed out, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I got launched into Vale, so I’m kind spotty on what exactly happened for the stuff I missed,” Jaune cupped his chin, “Yang lost her right arm, and went back to Patch with a comatose Ruby; Blake got stabbed and disappeared; Weiss was taken back to Atlas; Sun and his team went back to Mistral; Ren, and Nora came back with me, Beacon was destroyed with a monster frozen on the tower, and Vale was devastated but still mostly standing.”

“What of the other kingdoms?”

“Well the CCT was taken out in the attack, so we didn’t have any contact with them afterwards.” Jaune leaned back in his seat, expositing events after the Fall, “I didn’t find anything out until Ruby, Ren, Nora and I made it to Mistral almost a year later. But Atlas closed its borders, no trade or dust shipments to other kingdoms. Mistral & Vacuo were largely unaffected, or that’s what it seemed.”

“A dust embargo? Closed borders?” Glynda adjusts her glasses a sharp look to her eyes, “for what reason would Atlas cut them selves off like that?”

“Well the CCT didn’t go down until after video of Atlas androids and mechs attacking the people of Vale was transmitted to every kingdom.” Jaune tilted his head, and closed his eyes as he went on, “they were wary of the other kingdoms suspecting them of being involved in the attack.”

“So obviously the thing to do is stop all outside contact and not answer any questions,” Glynda crossed her arms, her mouth in a displeased frown.

“And you said that Mistral and Vacuou ‘seemed’ unaffected?” Ozpin inserted himself back into the conversation.

“Well Vacuou was a mystery until much later, but as it turns out Professor Lionheart was in bed with the enemy.”

Ozpin stilled, “such accusations are grave Mr. Arc, the headmaster of Haven Academy is a trusted personal friend.”

“Not an accusation, just saying what happened in my timeline,” Jaune shrugged, then turned his to return Ozpin’s stare, “he thought by aiding Salem, that he would be spared.” His expression turning neutral, and cold, “in the end he died, a fool and a traitor.”

 Ozpin and Glynda exchanged looks, mulled the thought over for a moment. The older man pulled his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, “I suppose the possibility should not be completely put off the table.”

“After Beacon & Vale, then it was Mistral’s turn. The kingdom was brought down from the inside, and from there it was just race to keep the kingdoms standing.” Jaune gaze lowered to the Beacon emblem on the side of Ozpin’s mug, “we just kept going from place to place trying to stop Salem and her ‘Council of Evil,’ but in the end we were just playing catch up. The seeds for their plans had been sown years in advance, for kids like us, who didn’t even finish their first year of training. We didn’t have a chance to begin with.”

“You never struck me as a defeatist, Mr. Arc,” Ozpin cleaned his glassed before placing them back in place.

“I’ve always tried very hard to hide it,” Jaune grinned, but his eyes weren’t playing along, “all the kingdoms fell, at least from a governmental standpoint. Whatever citizens and huntsmen remained were scattered to the wind. Our group joined up with anyone else we could find and tried to reclaim some of the ruined cities. But in the end none of us could rebuild a kingdom.”

“Is that it?” Glynda seemed agitated, hands on her hips, “you lose, and give up?”

“If only it were that easy,” Jaune replied to Glynda with resignation, “No any still living civilians, and huntsmen are either trying to live out in the wilderness, or made their way to Amity Base.”

“Amity Base? As in Amity Coloseum, it still existed even after all that?”

“It was actually one of the few things still functional, the left over huntsmen organized to set up there, and turned into a mobile base, and refuge for anyone seeking shelter.” Jaune smiled at the memory, “converted the thing to solar, stocked up on supplies, and it’s been the closest anyone has gotten to rebuilding a society, outside of temporary shanty towns.”

“What had you been doing at that point Mr. Arc?” Ozpin noticed Jaune hadn’t mentioned himself in all this.

“Oh, I was around for all that, I was part of the group that reclaimed Amity, and did a lot of searching for survivors to send back there,” Jaune’s expression fell as he went on, “up until around ten years ago, we directly went up against Salem’s lackies again. The first time in a while, it was bad, but we were stronger than we were as kids.” His hand went up to his left shoulder, “we got some of them, and they got some of us. Nobody lost, but sure as hell nobody won. That was when I lost my arm, and what remained of my team.” Jaune’s face fell, “and . . .”

“And?” Ozpin looked at Glynda out the corner of his eye, who nodded, “is everything alright, Mr. Arc?”

“Fine. Just bad memories,” Jaune didn’t seem particularly emotional, mostly just tired. “Long story, short. I was around doing things, until I wasn’t. I haven’t been back to Amity in a while.”

“You left?”

“After that battle I felt it better to go,” Jaune continued, “I had a feeling I wasn’t the only one.”

“What did you do after that?”

“I had a prototype prosthetic arm bolted onto me, got a new weapon, and went anywhere other than Amity, just searching. I figured I’d either find what I was looking for, or get killed by something,” Jaune shrugged, a good-natured smile on his face for such a morbid thought.

“And what was it you were looking for?”

“Survivors to send back to Amity, any leftover huntsmen that could help, the Maidens, supply caches, my family; if any of them are still alive.” Jaune crossed his arms, and slouched in his seat, “just about anything I can find really, I’ve spent the last ten years doing that and haven’t set one step back on Amity since.”

“Did you find the Maidens, or your family?”

Jaune jaw set in a line, “Nope.”

“And you have been gone for ten years, you said?”

“Around ten or so,” Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, “If I find any resources, or supply storages, I send the location back to Amity. If I come across survivors I try to escort them to safety, so I’m kept busy at least.”

“You do not return, but act in its interest, why?.”

“What else would I do?” Jaune laughs softly, “It’s just about the only thing left to fight for. And even if I don’t go back, there are still things I care about there.”

“There are?”

“Yes.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“Not particularly.”

A silence settled, as everyone in attendance understood that this conversation had come to an end. Ozpin stood smoothly, and offered his hand to the younger man across from him.

“Well that was an enlightening experience Mr. Arc. Regardless of whether or not events in this world will go the same way, what you said has given us quite a bit to think about.”

“Yeah well, it felt kind of nice to talk to someone for a change.”

“And if you are ever in need of someone to listen, we are here.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, haven’t had these kinds of luxuries in a long time, I’ll be sure to take full advantage,” Jaune chuckled as he stood up, leaning forward to shake Ozpin’s hand.

“If you need anything please tell me,” Glynda offered as she placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Well actually, there is one thing . . . “ Jaune intentionally drifted off, before fixing Ozpin with a look, “take me to the Fall maiden.”

The interior of the elevator felt smaller with more people in it, Jaune tried to focus on the sound of his own breathing.

“You believe that your semblance can heal her?” Glynda was rightfully skeptical, glancing at Jaune out of the corner of her eye, arms crossed in front of her.

“Heal? No. My semblance enhances the natural capabilities of aura, from what I know, the Fall maiden had part of her soul ripped out of her body along with the maiden powers. Jaune still had has his eyes closed, “with part of her gone, and the constant pull of the other half of the maiden powers, her aura probably can’t recover enough to stabilize her.”

“So you believe if you can amplify her aura enough, she will start to recover on her own?” Ozpin sounded as dry and mundane as always, but there was a tint of curiosity to his voice.

“I don’t see any harm in trying.”

Ozpin hummed, his lips pulled into a small pleased smile.

“Are you alright, Mr. Arc?” turning to face him Glynda her head tilted concern coloring her features.

“Fine.” Jaune said a bit too snappish, taking a deep breath. “Fine, sorry. I’m just bad with small spaces.”

The elevator lurching to a stop as the final ding sounded, and the doors open to a massive, dark hallway at the end of which stood a peculiar machine. The walk towards the end of the room was silent, the sound of footfalls and clicks of cane and heels echoed off the walls eerily.

Jaune breathing steadily once outside the confines of the elevator, couldn’t help to think how Pyrrha felt walking these same areas for the first time. The memory of how Ozpin had led her down her, how he imagined she must have felt in those moments. It made his stomach turn.

Ozpin and Glynda came to a halt before him, looking at Jaune expectantly.

Stepping forward, gazing through the frosted glass of the pod on the left, his gaze fell onto the figure of the women inside. How long had she been in there? How aware is she? Has she just been in eternal torment since she’d been attacked? Jaune’s chest clenched at the thought, he’d get an idea soon enough. “Can you open it?”

Fingers dancing across the console Ozpin had the pod open in short order, a chilled air spreading out from the source.

Coming as close to the pod as he can, Jaune reaches in to take the stranger’s hand, the cold stiff skin making it almost seem as if she was already dead. But he could feel it faintly, her aura, her soul. Reaching out to it with his own, he felt the connection take hold, almost desperately the other aura latched onto his, suckling at his in an effort to live. Rather than resist, he pushed his aura forward allowing the woman to take all he had to offer. He felt her fear, and anxiety. The pain, the burning hunger. All of it subsiding as he fed her his aura, the shine of his semblance enveloping both of them, and filling the dark, underground vault with warm light.

“Astounding.” Speaking for the first time since they had arrive, Glynda standing in awe of what she saw, pressing her clenched hands against her chest.

The headmaster in contrast staring silently at the display fluctuating on the console, but rising nonetheless, daring to hope. Pressing his lips into a thin line, eyes darting over to and fro, hands clenched white on the edge of the console.

A groan, a small groan rising out of the throat of the once comatose woman, her body shifting slightly for the first time. Her eyes opening just a crack, looking into the blue eyes of the man holding her hand.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Jaune softly whispering to her, smiling in what he hoped was a nonthreatening way.

The woman attempting to speak, but her throat too dry, having gone too long without use, croaking out sounds instead. Her eyes beginning to tear up, squeezes his hand with what little strength she has.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” Jaune taking her hand in both of his, beginning to hum a soothing tune, as the woman’s eyes drift shut again. He continued until his aura gave out, slouching slightly with exertion, the woman’s chest rising and falling steadily in a slumber.

“All vitals are green and staying there; she’s stabilized.”

“I don’t believe it.” Glynda moving to Ozpin’s side to examine the console along side him. “She’s really- she’s going to be okay.”

“She’ll need time to re-acclimatize to having her aura at full, I imagine having gone so long without, it might be a shock to her system.” Jaune standing a bit shakily, but stepping away from the pod without issue, looking at the sleeping woman with a small smile. “I’m no doctor, but I’d recommend she take it easy for a while. You probably shouldn’t take her out of the machine, until we can be sure her aura is capable of regenerating on it’s own.”

“Of course. I-” Glynda turning on her heel, to face Jaune with a look of elation, before straightening herself out, “Yes, we’ll be keeping her closely monitored, and while notify you if your services are needed again.”

Ozpin back still to both of them, hunching over the console like some kind of buried treasure.

Jaune wasn’t sure he’d heard a thing he had just said. “Well, I’ll be around.” Turning towards to elevator, with a wave.

Glynda’s voice halting his progress calling out softly, but carrying impossibly well across the massive room, “Jaune, thank you.”

Jaune smiled at her, before he moving to the elevator, and he raising his hand to lightly slap his face thinking, ‘still not a dream,’ to himself. Inside looking down at his good hand opening and closing it. The dings of the elevator resonating deep in his ears, pressing his eyes shut, and clenching his fist. Inhaling deep, deliberately keeping his breathing steady as the elevator continued upwards.