Far From Home 002

Being kidnapped was pretty damn low on his bucket list of things Jaune wished to experience. Worse still, being kidnapped by a terrorist organization that hated humans was even lower still. But that was exactly where he found himself – but he didn’t regret it.

It had been pure chance that he’d come across Blake when he did. He’d been in Vale to pick up some new boots he’d ordered to replace his old, scuffed shoes he’d been wearing when he’d spotted Blake slipping down between two buildings. Taking a short cut, no doubt – but as he’d passed by, she’d been on the ground, unconscious, with two large men looming over her.

Jaune had acted without hesitation.

If he’d been a better fighter, he may have been able to save the day – but he wasn’t. He’d tricked his way into Beacon on the back of false transcripts, and while Pyrrha had done wonders to improve his shoddy skills, he was still far away from where he needed to be to call himself a Huntsman-in-training with any pride.

The element of surprise had worked, for about all of thirty seconds. He’d gotten in some good hits, and had even managed to break the aura of one of them – but then those two men turned into four, and then six, and suddenly, he was being beaten into the ground by well trained fighters.

Even still, Jaune had kept getting up. Pyrrha had told him he had a lot of aura, and it was on full display as he fought longer than he had any right to. He could tell they were growing frustrated with his repeated attempts, and it wasn’t until one of them struck him with some type of taser device that pumped him with thousands of volts of pure Lightning Dust that he finally fell, defeated.

Now he was in a different country, far from home with no way back. When they disembarked from the airship, it was obvious that they were no longer in Sanus. Jaune had seen more than enough travel brochures from Mistral to recognize the unique architecture, and – well, he’d been to Mistral before, a long, long time ago. A camping trip with his folks and his many sisters. The memory was a little bit hazy, seeing as he was only six at the time – but Mistral held a unique beauty with its red wooden arches, sloping, tiled roofs and stone foundations. The paved streets were something else he remembered.

His first instinct was to panic – but he was well beyond that point now. Getting upset and acting out wasn’t going to help anyone, and maybe if he was alone, he’d try to escape. But he wasn’t alone, they had Blake, which meant any trouble he caused could fall on her head, not his own.

It wasn’t something he was willing to risk.

They were in the back of a wagon, the carriage jolting as the wheels passed over splintered stone. The horses trotted calmly, pulling them along, and the brisk morning air was filled with bird song.

The streets were mostly empty. Jaune spotted a milkman making the rounds, and a few vehicles parked in the street but this wasn’t the main part of the city, from what he could tell. There were houses and a few stores, but that was it.

More like a small suburb than anything else.

Blake was wavering between wakefulness and sleep, her eyes drooping as she swayed from side to side. Jaune had managed to get some sleep on the airship in addition to the short doze in the warehouse, but he had a feeling Blake had tried to stay awake for the whole journey.

They stopped in front of an ordinary building.

There was nothing of note, other than the typical Mistralian architecture.

“Out,” the pale skinned girl with the veins ordered. Blake jerked awake, suddenly alert, and Jaune saw the panic in her eyes before she remembered where she was and what was happening.

Jaune slipped out of the wagon and he was marched into the building. At first, the inside matched the outside, nothing spectacular or of note. But when he was forced down some stairs and through a pair of large wooden double doors, he was met with a long, dark room, illuminated by a series of torches hung upon towering pillars at regular intervals. Jaune gazed around, curious as he was led across a wide red carpet, leading towards a stone dais upon which a wooden throne sat.

And sitting on that throne was a remarkable woman.

She had wild black hair styled in an asymmetrical bob, her skin dark and adorned with even darker stripes. Jaune couldn’t tell if they were natural or tattoos, but the pair of triangular ears atop her head were natural, making him think of a tiger. Amber eyes watched them carefully within a beautiful, angular face, a red jewel set upon her forehead, a pair of golden loop earrings hanging from her human ears, while her left tiger ear was adorned with two golden rings. Her fit, slender body was clad in a form-fitting dark gray sleeveless Mistralian dress with white trim, a low hanging red cape a shroud across her upper arms, and cinched just above her breasts with a golden clasp.

Jaune gaped at her as her gaze drifted off him towards Blake, her blank expression becoming warm.

“Blake,” the woman said, her voice smooth. “It has been too long.”

She stood from her throne and Jaune noted that she was quite tall. About equal to Pyrrha, who was tall for a woman. All members of the White Fang present knelt, and Jaune was pulled down roughly, his knees aching as they slammed into the stone floor.

“Sienna…” Blake replied softly. “Why am I here?”

“I thought that would be obvious,” the woman – Sienna – said, amused. “Why else would I bring you all this way? Your parents are being… stubborn, but more importantly, they’ve been voicing concerns about my leadership of the Fang. You’re here for insurance, should they decide they want to retake their former position by force.”

Blake scoffed. “If the people want you out, shouldn’t that be a sign?”

“The people don’t. Not yet – but if your parents keep pushing, fractures might appear. Fractures we can ill afford, at a time like this.”

“Do you know what Adam has been doing in Vale?” Blake snapped. “Do you know why I left?”

“Do enlighten me,” Sienna said. “The last I saw you, you were enamored by Adam’s every move. I see things have changed.”

“He has changed. The train we hit, the one carrying Schnee Dust Company equipment. He wanted to kill everyone on board, even though we had secured the cargo. Innocent people, who were doing nothing but their jobs.”

“Can you really call them innocent, when they work for that company?”

“You don’t believe that,” Blake shot back angrily. “You’ve never preached senseless carnage, you’ve always been selective in your targets.”

“Some would claim that murder is murder, regardless.”

Jaune had no idea what was going on.

Who was Adam? And what train? Whoever he was, he sounded like a pretty bad guy. Killing a train full of people was a horrible thing to advocate for! The way Blake was talking, Sienna seemed to be their leader. She can’t be a very nice person either, if she was directing their violent acts. But to look at her, she didn’t seem evil.

Could someone evil be this cute?

They went back and forth, Blake’s anger clashing with Sienna’s calm. Jaune felt like he had been forgotten entirely which was fine by him but eventually, she turned those amber eyes to him.

“And who is this, then?” she asked.

The pale girl answered promptly, “He tried to interfere with our mission, so we were forced to bring him with us.”

“Oh?”

A familiar sword was placed on the ground, still in its sheath. Crocea Mors.

“A Huntsman?” she asked.

“I go to Beacon,” he spoke up, and the pale girl whipped her head around to glare at him through her mask, as if him speaking was a great offence. “Blake is a friend.”

“You’re human,” Sienna pointed out.

“Yeah,” he replied. “So?”

“Your people constantly demonize my kind. They have done so for thousands of years, and even when we put them in their place, they still continue to do so,” Sienna’s calm voice changed, a threat of violence. “They call us animals. Beasts. They act as our superiors. Do you feel superior, boy?”

Jaune blinked. “No? I’ve never thought that.”

Sienna frowned. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely confused. “We’re all just people. Just because there are a few jerks around doesn’t mean we all think that way.”

“A few jerks?” she arched her eyebrow. “Centuries of pain, and you reduce it to a few jerks?”

He shrugged. “Okay. A lot of jerks.”

She stared at him blankly.

“I’m just saying that not all humans think like that, you know,” he looked towards Blake. “Blake is my friend, and I don’t care if she’s a faunus. Even though I failed, I’d step in to protect her again, knowing that I’d end up right here. It doesn’t matter to me that she has cat ears, just like it doesn’t matter to her that I’m human. Isn’t that what the White Fang has been fighting for, all this time? Equality?”

She peered at him, as if he were a particularly interesting bug. It was a little unnerving but Jaune didn’t let it intimidate him too much.

“That was the goal,” she admitted. “But it is an impossible dream.”

“I don’t think it’s impossible.”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Naivety is cute in children, something that you are not. I can end your life here, now, and it wouldn’t be an inconvenience. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Then you better be prepared to kill me too!” Blake shouted, surging forward. One of the White Fang grunts reached out and grabbed her bound hands, restraining her. “Are you willing to go that far? To kill the daughter of the couple that did so much for you?”

Sienna scowled.

“You think I won’t?”

“You’ll kill your own kind, just because they disagree with you?” Jaune asked.

The air was tense – that was, until she laughed. Jaune blinked, startled.

“So – it’s true, then. You really are friends,” she appeared intrigued. “Hm. The Blake Belladonna I remember wouldn’t have befriended a human. You’ve changed.”

Blake remained silent.

“He won’t be harmed,” Sienna assured. “So long as he doesn’t cause any trouble. Of course, I cannot simply let him go. He has seen too much already. He will be given jobs to complete, simple tasks that need doing. Laundry. Cooking. An extra pair of hands is always helpful.”

That… didn’t sound too bad? I mean, no one liked doing laundry but it was better than being tortured!

“You’ll be a good little human, won’t you?” Sienna pressed.

Jaune nodded. “You won’t even know I’m here!”

So that’s how Jaune ended up in the kitchen.

There were dozens of other people, helping to prepare meals. He was shown to a free space and given instructions on what to do. It was pretty cliché but he was on potato peeling duty, and the pile of potatoes that greeted him was almost as tall as he was.

“That’s a lot of potatoes,” he said.

“We spare your life and you’re complaining?”

It was the girl with the veins. Sienna Khan had assigned her as his watcher, something that she was clearly not pleased about. She hadn’t argued, though, but Jaune could see the tightness of her jaw, and the tense line of her shoulders.

“I’m not complaining,” he said. “Just… an observation?”

She scoffed.

He was drawing a lot of attention because of course he was. Not only was he a prisoner, he was human. As expected, the attention was more hostile than not, Jaune feeling the heat of their glares as he was offered a small knife.

“If you try anything funny, I’ll jam that in your eye.”

Jaune winced. “That would feel awful.”

“Exactly. Now get to it, these potatoes won’t peel themselves.”

It really was a lot of potatoes. Surely more than what they’d be able to eat in any one meal, even with the dozens of people he’d seen so far. A quick glance around the room gave him a better picture of what was going on.

Aside from the people helping to prepare the ingredients, and the people cooking the meals, there was a dedicated team portioning the finished meals into small plastic containers. Jaune watched as they rapidly filled dozens of these containers before wrapping them in paper, and placing them in boxes.

These meals weren’t for the people here. They were being shipped out.

The White Fang were more organized than he’d thought.

Some of the containers were being placed in large chest freezers to be frozen for longer journeys.

“Stop looking around, and get to work,” she brandished one of her knives, much more impressive than the tiny thing she’d given to him. Long and sleek, the black duststeel was decorated with a golden web motif. Throwing knives – beautiful throwing knives, long enough that they could almost be called daggers.

“What’s your name?” he asked, grabbing his first potato and getting to work. The knife might have been small but it was sharp, and it effortlessly sliced through the flesh.

“None of your business.”

“I’m Jaune,” he said, rotating the potato with experienced fingers, quickly finishing it off. Placing it on the counter, he grabbed another one. “Though you already know that. Jaune Arc.”

“I don’t care.”

“Come on – I need to know what to call you instead of you or girl with the knives.”

“Don’t call me anything. Now shut up.”

She wasn’t much fun. Didn’t she realize that this didn’t need to be a miserable time? Jaune wasn’t going to try and escape. There was no point. Even if he’d been skilled enough to pull it off, they had Blake. While his time with Sienna Khan had been short, it had been clear enough that she wasn’t planning on harming her, not if they played by the rules. Jaune would never forgive himself if he did something that ended up causing harm to a friend, and he wasn’t about to leave her behind either, all alone with not a friendly face in sight.

He was here for the long haul.

Was he scared? Yeah, he was. Who wouldn’t be? But there was no point in agonizing over things he couldn’t change. He was their prisoner, but it didn’t need to be a bad experience all around.

If they could just understand each other, things would be much more tolerable, wouldn’t they?

“What’s your favorite food?”

She remained silent, finding a stool to sit down on. Jaune continued peeling potatoes, drawing forth on all his experience as a momma’s boy to ensure they were the best damn peeled potatoes anyone had ever seen.

Who would have thought that spending your childhood helping your mother prepare meals would come in handy in such a tense situation such as this?

“Mine are chicken nuggets,” he revealed. “Wings are also good. They have a place in Vale that make the best wings – well, the best that aren’t made by my mom. They have this sweet and tangy sauce, and it hits just right. You know what I mean?”

Maybe she didn’t know.

“As for desserts… well, it’s pretty hard to go past ice cream. There are just so many different flavors, and you can have it with so many other different things. Ice cream and waffles. Ice cream and apple pie. Ice cream and custard. The possibilities are endless. Hard to compete with that sort of versatility,” still no answer, but Jaune didn’t mind. Talking helped to take his mind off other things.

Namely, his team – and Team RWBY.

They must be freaking out, right about now. They hadn’t returned from Vale, and the White Fang had probably been very thorough in covering their tracks. The thought of Pyrrha or Ruby’s panicked faces made him feel horrible.

“After ice cream, I think pie is my favorite. Again, there are so many different options. My mom makes a really good lemon meringue pie, though if you don’t have a strong sweet tooth, I wouldn’t recommend it. I love it, though. Apple pie is a classic, of course, and like I said – ice cream and apple pie, mmm, hard to beat that. Blackberry pie is pretty high on my list with a bit of whipped cream, oh man – I’m getting hungry.”

When was the last time he ate? They’d given him something on the train but they’d been two measly granola bars. He was a growing boy. He needed more than that!

“Pumpkin pie is a little bit hit or miss. I like my mom’s but I’ve tried some others, and they weren’t so great. Though it puts you in a festive mood, for some reason. Not really sure why? It isn’t any more festive than other pies – do you have any idea why I’d feel that way?”

No reply.

Jaune shrugged. “Yeah, me either. Anyway, do you like video games? I know, I know – we’re too old for them, right? Those are for children. Well, I’d beg to differ! They honestly tell a better story than most movies and television shows these days, it’s just another form of entertainment. Even better, you can interact with it! I’m into adventure games, RPG’s, that sort of thing. FPS are also pretty fun, hero shooters are all the rage right now. Ruby – she’s a friend of mine, Blake’s teammate from Beacon – she’s totally in love with them. It combines her two favorite things – heroes and guns – so that makes sense. Fighting games are a little too sweaty for me, I dunno. I like playing them at the arcade but not on console.”

“You aren’t going to shut up, are you?” she suddenly said, sounding tired. A few of the faunus nearby began giggling, having been listening in on his one sided conversation. “Do you really want me to gag you again that badly?”

“No, of course not. And if you gag me, I won’t be able to peel these potatoes.”

He could almost hear her brain thinking over that comment.

“That makes no sense. At all. Are you stupid?” she then clicked her tongue. “What am I asking? Of course you’re stupid.”

“It makes perfect sense,” he objected. “If you block my mouth, it’ll be distracting and reduce my efficiency. Do you know how uncomfortable being gagged is?”

More giggles, coming from more mouths this time. The girl with the knives didn’t appear to appreciate that, shooting them all a glare.

“What’s it going to take to get you to shut your mouth?” she groused.

“What’s your name?”

If looks could kill, Jaune would be dead on the spot. Even so, he paused. She was a little scary.

Just a little.

“Will you promise to shut up if I tell you?”

He nodded.

“And you should know – if I make a promise, I keep it,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes.

“Trifa,” she said curtly. “My name is Trifa.”