Chapter Text
Shade Academy’s cafeteria is never quiet anymore. Voices bounce off the walls- refugees, huntsmen, students, families clutching whatever hope they’ve managed to bring with them. The air is thick with broth, dust, and the sharp tang of fatigue.
Nora Valkyrie moves through it all with her usual flair, ladling soup in crisp, decisive arcs. Her grin is bright enough to convince most people she’s fine. Maybe even herself- if she doesn’t look too closely at the tired shadows under Ren’s eyes, or Ruby’s restless pacing, or Jaune-
Especially Jaune.
He crouches beside a young mother at a table, her hands shaking too badly to hold her bowl. Jaune rests a gloved hand on her shoulder, voice low, steady, practiced. Within seconds, the woman relaxes. Her breathing evens. The child quiets.
Nora watches longer than she means to. He looks… right like this. Calm. Gentle. Purposeful. The most at ease she’s seen him since they brought him back.
But it flickers. Everything about him flickers.
He stands, sways slightly. Pale, drawn. Subtle redness at the corners of his eyes. Stiff movements. She doesn’t know how long he’s been awake, but she’s certain: he hasn’t slept in at least a night, probably two.
He passes her ladling station. She blurts the first thing that comes to mind. “Dude, when’s the last time you slept? Before or after Dust was discovered?”
Jaune smirks, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Ya know, technically I am older than Dust. I think.” His smile is warm, familiar, effortless, none of the forced cheer he sometimes wears. But it can’t hide the shadows under his eyes.
Nora claps her hands together, grinning. “Look at you, old man, cracking jokes! That’s our fearless leader, still got it!” She feels a small swell of pride, proud that he can joke about that at all, even after everything he’d been through. It shows he’s still in there somewhere, still himself.
Ren leans against a counter nearby, arms crossed, eyebrows raised. “Don’t push me too hard, Nora. You know I’ll start lecturing about proper sleep schedules.”
Nora snorts. “Oh, please. You’re way too polite for that. Honestly, I’m curious which would kill him faster- no sleep or listening to your lecture.”
Ruby flits past, tray in hand, glancing at Jaune with a worried frown. “He looks… okay, right? I mean, he’s fine, right?”
Jaune straightens, catching her eye. “I’m fine,” he says, voice quiet but firm. Then he glances at Ren and Nora. “And for the record, you know I can hear you, right?” he adds with a small grin.
Nora leans closer as he moves past again. “Fine? Sure, dude. Totally believable. You’re glowing. Pale, exhausted, glowing.” She taps him lightly on the shoulder. “You need a nap or an apology?”
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Maybe both.”
Ren lets out a low sigh. “You’ll never admit it, but she’s right. You need rest, Jaune.”
Nora smirks, tossing him a ladle like a frisbee. “Sleep or I’ll start giving soup lessons with your name on them. Your call.”
Jaune catches it, tilts his head, and laughs quietly. “Noted. I’ll try to survive until then.”
Nora watches him walk away, a smile tugging at her lips despite herself. He’s steady, kind, a little tired, and entirely human- and for the moment, that’s enough.
Then, just as the warmth of that small moment lingers, half the room’s scrolls buzz at once. The sudden vibration cuts through the chatter like a blade. Heads snap up. Conversations vanish mid-word. Even the kids freeze, staring at the glowing screens.
Sun Wukong’s voice erupts through the academy-wide alert, urgent and breathless.
“Shade teams- Recon Unit Four! We’ve got confirmed Grimm hordes coming in from the west dunes. Hundreds. ETA- less than an hour.”
The feed splintered into shouting and the clamor of weapons. Chaos erupted instantly.
Nora’s ladle clattered onto the counter. Instinct took over. She snatched Magnhild, swinging it into her hands as Ren checked and rechecked the mechanisms of Stormflower. Ruby was already moving, a blur of rose petals gathering supplies at a speed that bordered on panic. Qrow’s voice cut through the rising noise, sharp and commanding, coordinating huntsmen and Shade staff alike.
Oscar rushed to the holo-table, juggling three maps at once. “I’ll coordinate the east and south teams from here. You three- ” He gestured to Nora, Ren, and Jaune. “You’ll run with Qrow’s squad. Once the vanguard hits, Ruby and Yang take point.”
Weiss and Emerald were already at the entrance, assigning huntsmen to long-range and frontline groups. Anxiety simmered under every voice, every rapid footstep, every rattling breath.
And Jaune- always Jaune- moved through the panic like a medic through a battlefield. He knelt beside a crying boy, guiding him to his parents. He helped huntsmen struggling into armor, murmured reassurance to an elderly man clutching his walking stick until his knuckles were white.
He calmed everyone around him.
Everyone but her.
When he rejoined the group, Nora studied him openly, unafraid to show it. His shoulders slumped for a fraction of a second before he straightened too quickly, a subtle tremor in his hands betraying how little sleep he’d gotten.
She tilted her head, voice sharp but teasing. “Seriously? You’re still cracking jokes after last night?”
Jaune gave a small, tired smirk. “Somehow, surviving breakfast is easier than surviving monsters.”
Nora snorted, tightening her grip on Magnhild. “Good to see you still have a sense of humor. Just don’t think I won’t lecture you on sleep later. Your brain’s running on fumes.”
He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him, but his eyes were already scanning the holo-table, calculating, organizing, leading. Exhaustion pressed against him like a second armor, but he carried it with a practiced ease- enough to steady everyone else, if not quite fool Nora.
“Right,” Jaune says, clearing his throat. “Let’s move fast. Ruby- don’t overextend. Ren- watch our right. Nora- you’re with me.”
His tone is steady, confident. But there’s a subtle stiffness in his movements, a careful precision that feels slightly unnatural. He’s used to taking every risk on himself, protecting people who couldn’t protect themselves. Out here, he has capable friends- and he’s still learning to hold back.
Ren gives Nora a look. She returns it. No words needed. Something’s off.
They march into the dunes, heat rising off the sand in shimmering waves. The wind hisses, kicking grains against their boots. Ruby cracks a joke about whether sand counts as “hydrated dirt,” and Nora laughs too loudly. Ren squeezes her elbow- a quiet reminder to stay grounded.
Jaune walks slightly behind them, hand hovering near his sword. Posture rigid, movements precise. Competent, in command, but tense.
Nora has fought beside him dozens of times. But not like this. Not since the Ever After. Not since reclaiming him.
Out here, with the wind howling and Grimm shadows gathering, she can feel it- the old survival instinct, coiled beneath the surface, restrained but not gone.
She wants this to be normal. Wants him to be normal.
But the ground trembles.
Three Beowolves burst from the dune ahead, claws shredding the sand in their rush. Overhead, Ravagers screech in spiraling dives, wings slicing through the wind. In the far distance, massive silhouettes sway- Ziraph. Tall, many-necked, monstrous. Watching.
Ren is a fraction too slow dodging the first Beowolf’s swipe.
Ruby turns her head at a sound behind them, distracted for half a breath.
The third Beowolf lunges low and fast, aiming for Ren’s exposed ribs.
“REN!” Nora cries.
But Jaune is already there.
He shoves Ren aside- hard- and the Beowolf’s jaws clamp around his torso instead. Armor scrapes. A sickening crunch. The creature’s teeth dig in before flinging him through the air.
He slams into the dune, sand exploding around him in a choking cascade, burying him.
Nora’s heart jumps into her throat. She sees it- his body, moving with a single, terrifying purpose. Every motion precise, every decision instinctive, honed for survival in situations like this.
It’s not panic. It’s something else. Something older, sharper, harder. The Jaune she knows- the careful, measured leader- is momentarily gone, replaced by the one who would do anything to keep people alive, no matter the cost.
She feels it in the pit of her stomach: the same feral drive that once carried him through the Ever After now surging forward, overriding strategy, overriding caution. Everything else falls away. All that matters is protecting them.
Nora’s scream rips out of her throat. She sprints, slamming into the dune with both hands, digging before she even stops.
A hand bursts through the sand. She grabs it and tugs.
Jaune drags himself up, coughing violently, spitting out grit. His Aura flickers around him- a sputtering gold, barely holding shape.
“Jaune- Jaune, talk to me! Are you okay?!” Nora grabs his arm.
He winces at her touch, a sharp, involuntary jolt.
“I- I’m fine.” More coughs. He grimaces, clutching his side for a moment before dropping his hand. “Just a hit. I’ll be fine. We need to keep moving.”
“Jaune-”
“Nora, I’m fine,” he repeats, forcing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s tight, measured- so different from the easy warmth he’d shown her earlier, the kind of smile that could steady everyone around him. Too quickly. Too casual. He steps past her before she can argue.
But she saw it. Every subtle sign.
The weak flicker of his Aura. The flinch he stifled. The way he clamped his elbow to his side, as if hiding something. And- just for a heartbeat- she caught a dark smear beneath his armor, slick and fleeting, before grit and determination swallowed it.
Her stomach knots.
Ren and Ruby regroup beside them, faces pale. Qrow cuts down the remaining Beowolves with harsh, efficient swings of Harbinger. Grimm howls echo in the distance- louder, closer.
The skirmish settles, but the tension doesn’t. Ruby keeps glancing at Jaune, each look fleeting, worried. “Jaune… you okay?” she calls softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Yeah,” he replies, voice lower than usual, rough, sand scraping his throat. He clears it once, then again, as if startled by the sound of his own voice. Youthful, unpracticed, the way he sounded when he first returned from the Ever After, after years of speaking like someone much older. His eyes flick briefly to the sky before settling on Ruby.
Ren steps closer, voice quiet but edged with concern. “You’re sure you’re fine? That hit looked-”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jaune interrupts, raising his sword in a practiced, confident arc. His smile is there, measured, reassuring, but Nora catches the tremor in his shoulders, the tiny flick of his palm over his ribs, the way he rubs his throat when he thinks no one sees.
Qrow’s voice cuts in, low and clipped, sharp with concern. “Kid, don’t just say you’re fine. I know better than that, we all do.”
“Fine?” Ruby presses again, voice higher, more anxious. “You’re not fine- ”
“I said I’m fine,” Jaune interrupts, voice still rough, clearing his throat mid-word. He tilts his head, almost confused by the rasp, and shakes it slightly. “Really. We’ve got this. Keep moving.”
Nora keeps her eyes on him, walking slightly behind, noticing everything. The shallow rise of his chest. The hand brushing his side. The subtle tilt of his head when he inhales. The way his Aura sputters around his gloves for half a heartbeat before steadying.
He reassures them all with words, with posture, with that practiced steadiness, and yet Nora can feel it: something vital has been shaken loose. Something that was steady and strong, the core of him that had carried them through everything, now flickering under the weight of instinct, exhaustion, and memories better left buried.
They move forward into the deeper dunes, keeping the city walls in sight. The sky turns murky gold, streaked with hovering Ravagers. The distant silhouettes of the Ziraph sway like nightmare trees. The rest of the horde is obscured by a conveniently timed sandstorm.
Nora glances back again. Jaune rubs his throat. Touches his side when he thinks no one sees. Breathes like it hurts. Marches anyway.
And fear curls in her stomach, slow and icy. This is the first time she’s had him fighting at her side again- and already, she can feel the cracks spreading.
Something unsteady, vital, has shifted. Something Nora knows will matter when the real fight begins.