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G.N. Chapter 23
🕑 Added 2023-07-30 10:35:08 +0000 UTCI do not own Bloodborne or RWBY.
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Chapter 23 What Lies Amidst the Trees
Marriage, above all else, is a partnership. It's an agreement, beyond ceremony, beyond outside expectations and beyond even the past. It’s an agreement to do better, work, give and build something together.
At least, that was what it was to Hellebore.
Years. That was how long she took to come to terms with her childhood and her past. It had not been nice, it had not been neat, and it had in no way been easy. But Hella, with the aid of a ridiculously tall blond idiot, did it.
She married that wonderful, stupid, loving fool.
Those years made her somewhat of an expert on her husband. She knew, for example, that he was terrible at keeping secrets; the man wore his heart on his sleeve. Also, he brooded a lot… especially considering his usual disposition.
So when she caught her husband sitting out on the patio steps with his Scroll clutched in his hand Hella let herself feel the tiniest iota of victory. She knew this would happen, Cloud could try and act tough all he wanted, but he was too much of a worrier.
It was only a matter of time.
But now Hella let any sense of triumph recede as she moved outside onto the patio; her partner needed her. She draped herself over his shoulders, her hands resting on his broad chest as she pressed the side of her head against his cheek.
“He’s fine,” Hella spoke softly, her eyes closed as she embraced her husband.
“… I know,” Cloud replied, not at all sincere.
Hella restrained her amusement, “Of course. I, too, like to brood on the porch when worrying about nothing.”
He huffed the sound as good as a surrender.
“It’s nearly over… he’ll be back real soon, and then we can lock him away so he never leaves again,” Hella joked. Well, it was meant to be a joke, but the look Cloud gave her made her realise that she might have to work on her tone more.
“Was a joke…”
“Is it, though?”
“Jerk,” Hella condemned her now grinning husband as she slid around his side to sit in his lap. It was a testament to his size that even with her height, she still slotted into the space under his chin nicely.
Hella relaxed into his shape, enjoying being this close to her Cloud. The house was quiet, with the twins napping, and the ambience of their home was, for the moment, peaceful.
Looking up, she saw that while more relaxed, Cloud was still looking off into the tree line, his mind entirely elsewhere. With a sigh, Hella shifted in her seat until she lounged sideways in his lap, her husband's arm coming around to support her back by instinct. Then without preamble, she prodded him in the cheek.
“You’re still brooding… talk to me,” She ordered, her actions getting Cloud to look at her.
“Did I make a mistake?” He asked, the words spilling out rapidly as if they had been on the tip of his tongue the whole time.
“… About?”
“Letting him go… should I have said no?” Cloud asked, shifting her in his lap. Hella let a smile show on her stoic face as old memories found their way to the surface. Since she bit the bullet and claimed him as hers, she had enjoyed sitting on him in some fashion. Mayne even a little before.
Staking her claim for all to see.
He would brood back then as well, and she would often curl up on or near him. Back then, her people skills were nonexistent, so most of her advice was less helpful. But her Cloud still appreciated it.
This time was different, however.
“No, you didn’t make a mistake, Cloud,” Hella affirmed.
Clouds quirked brow spoke volumes.
“… How often has Jaune ever asked for something for himself?” Hella enquired cocking her head back. Cloud’s eyes looked away as he thought about her words, his countenance shifting slowly as he recalled precisely what Hella was talking about.
“… Practically never. It's always about his sisters or even… even us,” Cloud finished chuckling, remembering when he asked for Cloud to make his mother’s favourite food before he left. It was a paltry attempt to soften her up before he would broach his request with her the next day.
“Indeed, this was a big deal and not just because of your family tradition stuff… Jaune isn’t one to usually pursue his wants. It would have been wrong to deter that kind of behaviour.” Hella reasoned, her thoughts turning to her sunshine and how she wished to shower him with gifts.
But he never wanted any. Gifts were significant, and that Jaune seemed opposed to receiving any really bothered her.
“… It would be nice to see him exit his shell somewhat… get some friends,” Cloud agreed.
“… Mm.”
“Honey, you can't keep him all to yourself,” Cloud warned, only half joking.
“Of course not… his sisters would riot,” Hella replied.
Cloud laughed at this nodding in agreement, “they really would!”
Hella watched as the merriment fled and her husband's worry returned. She could only scowl and prod his face forcefully, her nail digging into the meat of his cheek as she demanded he talk.
“No brooding; talk to your wife, damn you!”
“M’sorry, just thinking,” Cloud mumbled.
“No, you’re brooding; now tell me what about,” Hella demanded.
“… I thought… did you ever think any of our kids would want to be Huntsman?” Cloud asked his wife earnestly.
Hella paused at this, her mind turning the question over. In truth, she had never so much thought on the possibility as it had never seemed pertinent. “No, I never saw any signs that any of them wanted to… why did one bring it up?”
“No, no, just the Rite has me thinking back to before I went off to Combat School,” Cloud answered.
“Oh… makes sense, I suppose; you always said you were raised to be a Huntsman, so I guess you underwent the trial too… did you ever want to be anything else?” Hella asked, suddenly curious about whether or not her husband possessed some secret side.
His laugh was airy as he replied, “not until I was in Beacon did I ever even consider another path…”
“And…”
“And that’s when people started calling me a nerd,” Cloud stated, eyeing his wife pointedly.
“Ahh, ever my explorative archaeologist,” Hella complained.
“You love me!” Cloud argued, squeezing his wife petulantly.
“Mm.”
Hella was glad her husband was moving further from his brooding, but something he said stuck with her, and she wanted answers. So she powered on, never one to beat around the bush, especially not with her Cloud.
“Your Rite… it didn’t go well, did it?” Hella asked, eyeing her husband warily.
Cloud didn’t appear to react to her words, but Hella knew better. His breathing shifted, and his eyes gained an edge she had seen many times in the midst of combat. She watched her giant lick his lips and crack his neck, a nervous tick.
“No… it did not.”
Hella realised then that perhaps her husband had been more conflicted over his decision than she had expected. She knew well how family expectations could weigh heavily on one's mind, but… perhaps she had not been observant enough.
Cloud’s first priority had always been family. Perhaps it was her failing to forget that just because the Arcs were better than her own didn’t mean they were without fault.
A family could be a tremendous blessing.
And a dreadful burden.
“He has Orr,” Hella proclaimed, hoping her words would do something to alleviate the stress she felt coiling in her husband’s muscles. Hella meant it to, Orr was an incredible Huntress, and while she may not be ranked in Vale’s top ten like Cloud, she was just outside of those rankings.
“Yes… yes, he does,” Cloud nodded before taking a calming breath, his whole body seeming to relax somewhat with that exhale.
That little agreement… Hella shook her head; it was amusing. Her Cloud was always earnest, eager to share, and ready to be open. It was why she could fall for him because she knew he wasn’t hiding stuff from her. He erred like everyone, but it was never malicious, and she would always know.
And he had not changed. Still, the same open book he had always been and maybe that was why she heard the yearning in his words. The regret. The pain.
“Who was your judge?” She asked, shifting once more, her legs crossing.
Cloud locked up; Hella knew she hit the nail on the head.
He spoke, his words crisp. “I don’t know.”
Hella blinked, confused.
“Did… did you not have one?” She asked, thinking back to her memories of her husband’s father. The man was stern, his disposition what she would politely call rude most of the times she encountered him.
But the man was sharp, cunning; he was an Arc Hunter and an experienced one at that.
Without insurance, he would not have been stupid enough to throw one of his precious children into the wilds.
The shaking of Cloud’s head as he responded made her feel only more off-kilter. “No, we had one, he spoke slowly, laying his Scroll by his side so he could grasp her hand instead, “I just never caught their name.”
Now there was silence, damming and oppressive as Hella was learning something new about her Cloud. Never had she heard this particular tale, and for a moment, she wondered if she should push forward.
It was remembering how Cloud had pushed her to open up that made up her mind.
“We?”
It was one word, a single question, but it made her Cloud, her giant, flinch.
He swallowed, moving his legs under her and pulling her form closer to his chest. “Yeah… we. When I undertook the Rite, it wasn’t by myself. It was with my brothers… Grey and… and Cirrus.”
Hella waited to respond. In truth, she had known Grey, the young man being in the year above her and Cloud at Beacon. He was shorter than his brother, closer to her height, and had been far more soft-spoken. Favouring ranged combat, the young man had been of a humble demeanour and had checked in with his brother regularly.
He was buried at the capital, and his passing had devastated Cloud.
But Cirrus… she knew next to nothing about Cirrus.
“Cirrus… he was the youngest right?” Hella asked softly, leaning into Cloud, her head resting under his chin.
“He was only eleven…” Cloud whispered.
Hella froze at this. Anger, pure and feral, icing her veins cold as the thought of subjecting her son to the trial at such an age. She disliked it now, even knowing of her son's absurd combat abilities and unique nature.
She doubted young Cirrus could boast the same uniqueness.
“Why… I thought it was meant to be a solitary thing,” Hella voiced, her mind conjuring images she found discomforting.
Of little blonde-haired boys with blue eyes, lost and alone in the woods.
Cloud must have either felt the same way or reacted to Hella’s deteriorating mood as his fist clenched loudly, his knuckle popping like gunshots.
“It doesn’t have to be… the purpose of the trial is to encourage young members to show off their maturity… to show they are ready for adulthood and can be a boon to their clan.” Cloud spoke for a second. He almost seemed at peace with the nature of the Arc family history.
But the look quickly soured.
“Teamwork is valued, teamwork is to be encouraged… teamwork should not be a fucking excuse,” Cloud rumbled, his anger bleeding to his words.
“… That’s why Cirrus was there, wasn’t it,” Hella spoke, her voice damming.
“I was of age, Grey was older still, so my father deemed that since he would have his brothers with him, there was no harm in Cirrus undertaking the trial before his teens… from his perspective, I suppose nothing would go wrong and… and we would be brought closer through shared tribulation.” Cloud’s words were laden with a gross loathing that Hella found genuinely impressive.
Few people could bring out Cloud’s dark side.
“But something did,” Hella said with certainty, her voice piercing the peaceful silence.
“The judge… the one he hired… wasn’t there. He just left, and none of us knew; how could we? We didn’t even know he was there in the first place,” Cloud uttered in a tone that spoke volumes of old pain.
“Why?” Hella snapped, looking up at Cloud, her face a mask of hidden rage.
“Never found out,” Cloud mumbled, leaning down his head and resting it on Hella’s shoulder.
Hella was ready to say more, but Cloud kept speaking.
“There was an Ursa… three kids vs one Ursa. We fought so hard, but Grimm aren’t animals; they don’t retreat in the face of pain. The damn thing just kept coming. We could barely scratch it… and then everything went to shit,” Cloud spoke, his eyes hinting at tears.
Hella now understood why she hadn’t heard this story.
She also hated recalling the times when she was powerless.
“… It only took one swipe… Grey was already unconscious and a bloody mess… nearly lost an arm to infection after everything was said and done. It was just Cirrus and me… I tried to protect him, but it got me in its jaws… hurled me at a tree,” Cloud explained, pulling up his pant leg to show an ancient scar on his shin.
It was one she had seen before; she had even asked about it.
She now understood why his answer was always ‘Ursa’ and nothing else.
“I couldn’t tell which way was up; I was so damn dizzy… but I got off easy,” Cloud admitted.
“It's not your fault,” Hella was quick to impose.
“I know,” Cloud nodded, and she believed him. There was pain, but she also saw acceptance and understanding. Hella would bet that this was a trauma Cloud had come to terms with many years ago, possibly even before he started Beacon.
That was her Cloud; he was always better at this stuff. Almost everything she knew concerning handling things like trauma came from him. He had taught her the importance of not shouldering blame, and she was proud of him for not being a hypocritical dumbass.
“Cirrus… as I said, it was just one swipe. It was over so quick; the Grimm caught him right between the shoulder blades.”
Hella could picture such a wound, all the vital parts such an attack would hit, and all the devastation an Ursa could cause with just one swipe.
“… He just collapsed,” Cloud recalled, his voice sounding tired and remorseful, the dreadful scene playing over in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Hella whispered into Cloud’s shirt, holding him as he continued to speak, doing her best to show her empathy.
“The doctor said he died instantly like it was supposed to help,” Cloud continued, gaining a hint of spite. “I was twelve; what was I supposed to make of that information? Dead was dead.”
“… You and Grey survived,” Hella spoke after a minute, her statement as much a question as it was a way to break the oppressive quiet.
“Yeah… the Hunter my father hired returned in time to save Grey and me, but… like I said, it was touch and go for a while, and I didn’t regain consciousness until we were on our way back home,” Cloud explained the aftermath his grip on her relaxing.
“My father… he was furious… no, that doesn’t do it justice. My father was beyond all reason; he was… he was berserk,” Cloud spoke the word as if it had weight, and Hella wondered if this was another Arc thing.
“He took him apart. The guy never stood a chance; as I said, Father lost it, and by the end, the guy was in pieces, literally butchered and left in some random clearing in the woods… Next thing I knew, we were home.”
Cloud moved again, this time shifting Hella about to press kisses into her hair, his breath warm against her neck as he leaned on her for support.
“I wish it could end there, but when we returned home… things seemed to fall apart even more. Mum wouldn’t stop crying… she didn’t for a long time. But when she did, it was to tell dad she was leaving… and dad agreed like it was just that easy, only he warned her that if she tried to take us away…” Cloud had to stop, but Hella could feel his fury on her back, his heart picking up in his chest.
“He lorded his Huntsman status claiming that should she try, he would make it an issue either legal… or otherwise,” Cloud breathed. “So she left… and I guess for a long time, I hated her for that,” Cloud admitted.
“She did abandon you,” Hella pointed out, her opinions on parental care colouring her observation.
“Yes… but she needed to save herself, and I have long since forgiven her, as you probably know,” Cloud shrugged.
“Yes, otherwise, our wedding would have been a much stranger affair,” Hella agreed, recalling the wonderful and bizarre day.
The awkwardness of prodding old wounds lingered, but Hella was determined to make this a tale she did not have to talk about with Cloud again, so she decided to press on again.
“Where is Cirrus-“
“Mum took him… she was actually from a nomadic tribe originating from an area smack bang on the Vale, Vaccuo border. Their ancestral lands are in those border mountains and… and they cremate their dead.” Cloud finished his tone very matter-of-fact up until he got to the part about cremation.
“You… seem ok with that?” Hella noted, observing her Husband.
“Us Arcs also cremate our dead; the tradition is slightly different in that we do ours at sea but… I am thankful for it, I suppose, I think… it’s a weird thing to feel thankful for, I guess?” Cloud mumbled into her shoulder.
“Not really… peace is important, dead or alive,” Hella uttered, her hand coming back to scratch at her husband’s hair. “… How come Grey is buried?”
“Flax requested it… I wasn’t gonna say no. Grey’s death… well, you probably remember what I was like,” Cloud whispered.
“Yeah…”
Hella stepped out of Cloud's lap, turning to face him, her face as stoic as usual but for her eyes. Cloud noticed; he always did; they were gentle as she looked at him.
“He will be fine, Cloud,” Hella assured him.
“… I know I just-“
*WURT, WURT, WURT*
Cloud and Hella’s heads whipped to the side, staring aghast at Cloud’s Scroll and its blaring alarm.
Cloud lunged for it, nearly fumbling as he was pressed on the alert to see the cause.
“Gods, no!” Cloud panicked, seeing that the alarm was an SOS coming from Orr’s F.O.R.T.
“No,” Hella breathed panic, making her hands curl, her nails digging into the meat of her palms.
The two Arcs exploded into their house so fast the door might have snapped off one of its hinges, but neither cared. Cloud blitzed straight for their office while Hella leapt upstairs in a single bound, her fists hammering on Saphron’s door.
“Mum! Wh-“
“Watch your sisters; there is an emergency. Your father and I will be back as soon as we can!” Her orders given, Hella was off lunging into the office, her hands out to catch her weapons tossed to her by Cloud.
“The Bullhead is already being gassed and fitted on the pad; our backup will meet us at transport,” Cloud informed Hella, stepping into his greaves, the metal plate locking in until his feet and shins were encapsulated.
“Who do we have?”
“Kaiser saw the Elder alert and already volunteered, and we also have one other we will meet en route,” Cloud replied quickly, beginning to don his heavy armour. The Warden Mail was already equipped; the Warrior Crest was giving him pause.
Hella, not losing a step, was at his side instantly, assisting in slotting the massive mechanical piece over his torso, the mechanisms locking in soon after. A part of Cloud’s mind wanted to forsake the armour for the sake of speed, but when he looked to his Scroll and saw the screen shift, he knew he would need it.
The feeling in his gut only worsened as the words on the screen began to scroll by boldly.
With his gear equipped and his weapons on his person Cloud exited his office swiftly, his thumb dragging across the holster of his Mauler. He would have to grab ammo at HQ.
Hella was saying some parting words to Saphron, her Bloom and Blight hanging from her belt so that she could hug their second eldest safely. Cloud moved to do much the same; he was not blind to the worry on Saphron’s face.
She met him halfway, hugging his arm as his armour made a full embrace difficult; Cloud’s other hand encircled her back as he kissed her crown. While Saphron was well used to having two Huntsman parents, that did not assuage her of all worry.
When the two were out the door, Cloud was faced with a sensation he detested. It was one thing to go off on a mission knowing his family was behind him, and they were safe and out of danger. It was an entirely different sensation to be racing off to rescue one.
“… Cloud, what is our boy up against,” Hella spoke, her stoicism able to fool all but him as they dashed through Reach.
Cloud didn’t speak. He couldn’t. His heart was in his throat, and he feared everything would come out in a panicked bellow if he did.
Instead, he threw her his Scroll.
On the screen, already flashing red and white, bold black letters scrolled across in a repeating message.
‘DANGER. ELDER. DANGER.’
Hella tossed the device back before she bolted off, outpacing her husband. Cloud didn’t bother to stop her; he understood exactly what she felt.
Instead, he picked up his own pace.
He ran through the Settlement of Reach as nothing more than a blur of white and grey, his steps so powerful that they left cracks in the road as he bolted by.
He was purpose manifested.
His son was facing the most dangerous category of monster on the face of the planet.
And Cloud would save him.
As he reached HQ, he stormed through the base heading straight for the landing pad where Hella was already grabbing Dust vials and conversing with Kaiser. The Bullhead maintenance crew moved in organised chaos, moving crates and fuel tubes. Even Franky had appeared and was giving orders to the man who was likely their pilot.
Cloud didn’t see their fourth member but couldn’t bring himself to care. Instead, he moved next to his wife and tossed his Scroll on one of the ammo crates. With a few taps, the Screen began downloading all the incoming information from Orr’s F.O.R.T.
He began to load his weapon as he waited, slotting the massive Hunter calibre dust rounds into his Mauler.
As he did, he muttered under his breath, his words causing Kaiser to pay him an emphatic glance and Hella to nudge him with her elbow.
“Stay alive, Jaune. Just stay alive.”
Cloud would save his son.
He had to.
YVYVYVYVY
“Welp… this is fucked…” Orr hissed, her face set in a grimace.
“Mm,” Jaune added, scrutinising the site they were looking upon.
The area was a mess; the oppressive noise of buzzing insects and the eager caw of carrion birds assaulted their ears. The wind was still, leaving them to endure the pungent stench of split meat and spilt blood. The outlier was the sound of the nearby babbling stream, a sound so often related to relaxation that had no place at the site of this massacre.
The once majestic bodies of proud creatures lay strewn about in various grizzly states painting a brutal picture. Some lay broken, unmoving, with no clues to their death aside from a neck hanging too limply or a body laid at an impossible angle. Others were more obvious, such as one of the animals being torn in two and its entrails strewn through the branches above.
Orr moved over to one of the more intact bodies, her senses on high alert, aware that they were most likely dealing with a Grimm. Jaune stayed near his steps as quiet as hers as he moved in her wake, practically a shadow.
Orr crouched by one of the bodies, looking for some indication of what kind of Grimm had decided to go ape shit on the poor forest critters. “Hmm… Damn, that’s a shame; these are Cornuco Deer. They used to be a symbol of royalty here in Vale.”
Jaune didn’t respond, causing Orr to look at him.
Jaune was next to another of the dead deer, this one headless, his fingers examining the wound almost mechanically. Orr saw the look on his face and realised he was in one of his moods, his quiet one, to be specific. She had seen this happen twice; the boy almost went completely silent both times, only responding to direct orders.
Probably for the best, they didn’t need to draw the attention of whatever did this.
Orr moved to another body, eyes scanning the ground for hints of tracks or some other identifier… but there weren’t any. This concerned the Huntress greatly; for the most part, Grimm were not subtle, leaving very obvious tracks or indicators of their presence.
Those that didn’t were a different breed of monster.
There was also the fact that whatever killed all these dear seemed to wield incredible strength; bodies were crushed and torn in two, indicating immense force. There were even indicators of the deer being hurled into trees or tossed into the canopy, supporting this hypothesis.
Returning to Jaune’s side, she witnessed the kid by what could only be a fresh spring fawn, the tiny creature twisted up and wrapped around a stone, its sternum split open brutally. “… Bodies are cold. It must have happened last night or even earlier… you got any ideas, kid.”
Jaune stood up and returned to the corpse he had been examining earlier. Orr watched as he heaved the carcass up and rolled it over in a demonstration of his strength. Orr blinked widely at the sight as she instantly realised what the kid was trying to show her.
The deer had been pulled into the dirt, its body forcefully submerged. Massive claws raked down its side, and one of its legs was missing a grove in the disturbed earth beneath its body, indicating where it once was.
“… What the fuck?” Orr breathed, crouching next to Jaune, her fingers prodding at the claw marks. They were different depths; the Grimm had three claws of differing lengths and thickness, judging by the uneven gashes.
Wasting no more time, Orr pulled out her Scroll and snapped a picture of the injury, uploading it to the GII to get an idea of what she was dealing with.
“Right, while that’s loading, we are leav-“
The sound of blood-splattered bushes shaking had Orr up and armed in the blink of an eye. Jaune was right behind her, an arrow notched and drawn in one smooth motion.
“Be ready to run,” Orr ordered.
“Right,” Jaune confirmed his bout of silence forsaken in the face of imminent danger.
Both were ready, weapons in hand and eyes locked on the moving foliage as a shadowed shape moved through the greenery. The first thing they saw clearly of the approaching creature was its antlers, which didn’t make them drop their guard.
When they saw earthy-coloured fur, their postures shifted from ready to wary.
It was a dear, a buck to be accurate, of the same species that lay massacred around them. Only it was large, much larger than any of the other deer’s, so much so that Jaune was still not ready to declare it a non-threat.
The creature was a mess; it limped into the clearing, blood coating its flank and its breaths coming out in painfully loud groans. But despite its current state, the creature stamped its hooves, its head moving side to side, one of its eyes blinking erratically.
“… Must be the court's king,” Orr spoke softly, relaxing her posture even more, her weapons lowering as she looked over the bloody animal.
Jaune looked at Orr curiously, waiting for her to elaborate.
“Cornuco Deer are famous for their courts where the young males would battle under the watchful gaze of their king,” Orr explained, gesturing to the huge male deer. “Going off how big that fucker is, my money is on he would be the king… which would make this his court.”
Jaune nodded, looking around at the sheer volume of dead.
“Seems he managed to escape the Grimm?” Jaune voiced, eyeing the stationary animal that was now looking at him and Orr with what was either worry or aggression.
“I doubt it… these guys are meant to be territorial as all hell, the males even more so. More likely… it fought… but why is it still alive?” Orr pondered.
“… Its flank… are those the same claws?” Jaune enquired, stepping around Orr, his bow again adorning his shoulder as he moved slowly forward.
“Maybe… thinking we might be dealing with a pack?” Orr spoke, not moving, hoping not to startle the deer.
“Mm,” Jaune replied as he continued to move forward, his steps slow movements steady so as not to startle the already stressed deer.
“… Watch the rack,” Orr added as an afterthought. She watched as the kid approached the deer. He was mere feet from it when the bloodied beast finally responded. If it were another kid, Orr might have reacted negatively to a creature the size of an Ursa shaking its head aggressively.
But this was Jaune, so instead, she pulled out her scroll to check on the GII; she really wanted to know what type of Grimm might be lurking about.
YVYVYVYVY
Sometimes, Jaune could not help but feel like the spectre of death itself clung to him, as present as his shadow and as real as the sound of his heart beating in his chest.
In Yharnam, it had never been want for slaughter; the only life it had been unable to claim with any permanence was his own, as the bonds of death meant so little to him then. Though there had been times when he wished it were not so.
But… those times were passed.
Jaune was blessedly free of Dreams.
But despite his freedom from the Eternal Night, it would seem Jaune could not find himself free of the looming spectre even in the waking world.
For Remnant was rife with bloodshed.
“Shh… calm now, calm…” Jaune instructed in his softest voice, the large buck snorting, a bit of blood flecking onto the ground as it did.
“I don’t want to hurt you… I want to take a look at the cut…” Jaune continued taking another step; he was so close he could feel its breath now.
The buck lowered its head again, brandishing those prominent antlers, the sharp tips of which Jaune had to lean back to avoid. It was challenging to doge something slowly, but Jaune was quite experienced at avoiding impalement.
With one hand, he quickly grasped the antlers, feeling the impressively large stag tug its head back in response, Jaune letting it pull him forward. Now he had a hand on its filthy flank, and its dark eye was level with Jaune’s.
“Hush now, steady. Steady…” Jaune spoke sternly, feeling the beast's muscles bunching as it eyed him, its snorts getting louder. It tugged again, trying to break free of his grasp, but Jaune held firm, feeling the surprisingly sharp antlers bite into the meat of his hand.
“Steady…” Jaune growled, his own eyes locking with that of the wounded beasts. In an instant, something changed; with his blood trailing down its gold-flecked antler and his blue orbs pinning its singular black one, the beast froze.
Fear or understanding, Jaune didn’t know which caused its struggles to pause, but he was grateful nonetheless.
Because he could now clearly see the injury that was the source of the blood that painted the deer's hide.
“Orr,” Jaune called out, his hand resting on the creature's thick neck, slowly patting the stressed-out stag.
“Hm?”
“It has a thumb,” he spoke, his eyes darting to look at the Huntress, his concern apparent on his face.
“A thumb…” Orr mumbled, only for the spark of realisation to have her hurriedly approach the beast Jaune was holding steady. She quickly examined the point he gestured to with his head, making sure the majority of his focus remained on the stag as it made a booming groan as it pushed into Jaune in an attempt to escape Orr.
“Stop that,” Jaune spoke without much force patting the bloody flank, his hand sticking to the fur somewhat.
“… Shit, hold him steady I gotta get fresh pics,” Orr said, trying to keep panic from creeping into her voice. Jaune watched her posture change; the click of her Scroll taking pictures was sharp to his ears as he observed his judge.
“Hey, kid,” Orr spoke up, her eyes watching the GII take measurements of the claws and begin processing the images.
“What’s up,” Jaune replied, still patting the somewhat calmer stag.
“You know any Grimm with three fingers and a thumb?” Orr asked, her eyes not leaving the screen as she waited for Jaune to respond.
Jaune looked away from the deer, his eyes peering up and to the left as he thought back to what he knew of this world's monsters. Orr watched as a frown grew more and more pronounced on his features.
“… None that live in Sanus,” Jaune admitted after a moment.
“Right, branch out then; other continents. Go,” Orr ordered.
“Gargoyle,” Jaune answered, peering at the deer wound.
“No ruins nearby as far as I’m aware… what else,” Orr urged, looking up to the sky, grateful it was now only late morning.
“Razorwing… technically,” Jaune proposed.
“No, I don’t care what the GII says. Those are talons; the thumb claw is more like a pseudo thumb,” Orr quickly shot down.
“Berserker?” Jaune shot again; this time, Orr looked around at the carnage.
“Fuck I hope not,” she breathed.
Jaune sniffed, “Orr, you and I both know that you know far more of the Grimm than I do,” he pointed out a hint of concern in his voice.
Orr smiled at the kid. Seeing him concerned was rare, but knowing someone was under all those… peculiarities was pleasant. “It's fine, Jaune. This area is still close to main settlement, and remember your father paid for a culling. If there was a rare species or gods forbid something worse, they would have found it.”
Jaune knew Orr was probably aware that it had been nearly three months since that culling and that it was all too easy to miss a Grimm.
Especially if it was dormant.
“Right… still weird that there are no tracks,” Jaune voiced, annoyed.
Orr only just kept herself from face-palming in front of her Sprout as she had very much forgotten to add that detail to the search. Hoping he didn’t notice, she quickly added that detail into the observation bar.
A handful of seconds passed, and then the results showed up.
Red.
There was one highly probable result.
And it was a fucking monster.
‘Fuck no, no, no, no…’ or thought, fear creeping into her veins as she looked at the options of what could be hunting them.
Suddenly, the woods seemed so much more oppressive, and Orr whipped around her eyes, dancing between the trunks and the shadows they cast. Her eyes scanned the canopy, and she quickly moved so she was next to Jaune, a hand clasping his shoulder.
“We need to move now!” She hissed urgently.
The boy didn’t verbally reply, just nodding and moving with her ushering. The stag behind them seemed to snort, confused perhaps at their departure, but Orr ignored it.
Her scroll was quickly tucked back in her pants as she unhooked one of her war picks, now was not the time for delay. “Listen, we need to get back to the clearing, and then we need fire, lots of fucking fire, ok,” Orr commanded as they began to move back the way they came.
Then Jaune stopped.
“Orr… it's quiet,” the boy whispered.
Orr turned, ready to bark back a question but paused, taking a moment to listen.
He was right.
The birds had gone quiet.
The insects no longer buzzed noisily above the rotting flesh.
Only the creek made any noise.
The creek and their breathing.
*Splash*
Three heads turned simultaneously, all three with hearts beating in their chests. Half a deer had just splattered into the creek, the water running over the brutalised meat, tainting its waters red.
Jaune pulled his bow off his shoulder.
Orr wrenched Sunder from her belt.
The silence persisted.
The clearing was nearly void of noise.
The breathing of its living occupants.
The babbling of the creek.
The creaking of the trees.
“… No breeze,” Jaune breathed, tensing as he took a half step back.
“It can move through the trees, watch for white,” Orr ordered.
Jaune pivoted both him and Orr, staying in place, waiting for when the unseen danger would strike.
Their cue came as a thunderous bark from the bloodied stag.
Jaune whipped about, ready to lose an arrow at the first sign of a white mask.
At first, he didn’t see.
Then the tree moved despite the absence of wind.
Orr’s breathing caught in her throat, but Jaune heard her choke out one word all the same.
“Spriggan.”
YVYVYVYVY
“RUN!”
Orr was in full disaster mode; she only caught a glimpse of the Grimm before she used her semblance to turn a nearby stone into shrapnel. She didn’t even pause to see if she hit it; she just bolted, Jaune already having taken off.
A small part of her also noted that the deer had bolted when she shouted.
If she was lucky, the Grimm would chase the damn stag instead of them.
But she was fully aware that she would not be that lucky.
Because she was fucking terrified.
Spriggan were rare, ridiculously so.
They were a solitary breed of Grimm that only existed in woods that had remained undisturbed for very long times. They didn’t even enjoy being near other Grimm, but if something was dumb enough to disturb them, they became a menace.
“Get to the clearing! Avoid the trees!” Orr commanded, her eyes erratically bouncing about as she scanned for a clue of where the thing might be.
But there was none.
That was what made a Spriggan so deadly.
And this one was big.
Orr responded to the sound of wood splintering on instinct, her body diving forward, her Aura soaking up the impact of her slamming into the dirt. Behind her, a long twisted limb merged back into the trunk of the tree it had launched from.
She was moving before it disappeared.
This went beyond the worst-case scenario; this was a nightmare.
“Watch out for roots as well; they can move through any sufficiently big plant!” Orr roared as she caught back to Jaune.
She had never been more grateful than right now that the boy was far from ordinary.
Because he was booking it so fast, she was tryingto keep up.
Her mind was a loop of ‘get out of the woods, get out of the woods’ as nothing else mattered.
Her scroll buzzed again, but she ignored it.
‘I think I’d prefer a fucking Leviathan!’ Orr screamed in her mind.
She was yanked from her thoughts by the sound of cracking bark.
“Down!”
The kid was a godsend.
He hit the dirt and slid, allowing Orr to retaliate at the massive wooden limb that had just tried to bisect him. Breach impacted against the thick knotted wood that was Spriggan’s limb, her Semblance half activating on the spot above its wrist as she swatted the arm aside.
But she didn’t stop running, instead using Sunder to hook under the kid's arm and drag him back to his feet.
“Go!”
She heard the stream near their clearing; they were getting closer.
“Orr!”
“What?”
“The clearing has a tree in it! and the bamboo and spikes!” Jaune shouted, still sprinting at full speed. He looked at her with a fierce gaze despite the fact he was now sporting a bloody lip and a massive abrasion on his cheek from where he slid.
Orr wanted to curse.
“Fuck!”
So she did. She wanted to be annoyed at herself for forgetting but didn’t have time to.
“The stream! … No further up; head past the ice dam! The shore has fewer plants!” Orr ordered.
“Right,” the kid barked, turning slightly, his tall frame exploding through the underbrush and back into direct sunlight. Orr was right behind him, clearing the stream where he landed kneeling.
Orr moved to pick him up but froze when a massive blur exploded from the woods downstream.
“Shit your big…” Orr cursed under her breath as she finally got a look at the Spirggan’s full size.
It was as big as the trees they had just been running through; its head could easily disappear into the canopy. The pitch-black flesh of the Grimm was hidden underneath armour of rooted wood that twisted about its body like armour. Its humanoid figure was unsettling, and the twisted branches it wore as armour gave its body a chaotic appearance.
Its legs were akin to goats with hooves but with roots stabbing into the ground about them, the shapes appearing sewn through the limbs; a similar trend occurred all over its body. Its chest was the section most heavily defended, with its body having an angled shape that reminded Orr of Cloud’s new armour.
Its arms were long, reaching down the length of its giant form to drag on the floor where its jagged three-fingered hands of spear-like roots dug into the soft earth. Though its arms looked thin compared to its hands, Orr was not fooled as she knew the strength in those stretched limbs.
Its head was the only splash of different colour on its dark wooden form as the white of the Grimm mask and the red of its eyes contrasted with the rest of itself. Its face reminded Orr of a wasps nest, the white bone-like design filled with glowing red holes that were its numerous eyes. It had no mouth but didn’t need one to be terrifying.
Above its head were jagged branches bereft of leaves but instead stained read with entrails no doubt left over from the deer it slaughtered. Said entrails were mixed with some growth that looked scarily like hair that hung across its Grimm mask like a filthy veil. It was enough to make Orr regret not bringing some explosives.
Or many explosives.
Orr’s scroll chose that moment to buzz as if to spite her, switching from plain red to a flashing red-and-white screen with a single word printed on it.
Elder.
Orr didn’t need to look, though; just seeing this Spriggan’s unnatural size and the moss overgrowing its mask, making it off-colour compared to other Grimm, was enough.
Orr felt a chill race down her spine as the thing moved, its body groaning loudly as it rose to its full height, making her reevaluate as it was easily larger than any of the trees they had just run past.
It made a booming call that hurt Orr’s ears, but she grit her teeth and prepared to defend Jaune.
The Grimm flinched, its arm whipping up to defend its face, where an arrow sunk into the wood on its wrist.
She looked back to admonish her charge, but Jaune was already racing out of the water, prepared to keep running to the ice dam.
‘Well, some encouragement wouldn’t hurt,’ Orr thought, racing behind the teen and dragging him along. “Get your ass moving!”
He didn’t need to be told twice.
Orr spared a glance behind her; the Spriggan was charging forward, its long legs devouring the distance.
It would catch them easily.
“Don’t stop!”
Orr broke off and ran to a nearby sizeable rock.
Two loud clangs were quickly followed by the sound of said rock exploding at the Grimm.
It didn’t even slow it, but the monster did cover its face blinding it temporarily.
And that was enough.
Orr lunged.
She was an experienced Huntress… but she knew the realities of fighting an Elder Grimm.
But that didn’t matter.
Orr focused on the mission as her war picks cracked into the Grimm’s knee, splintering off a section of the unnaturally thick wood.
She would keep Jaune safe.
YVYVYVYVY
Jaune was out of his depth.
He knew next to nothing about Spriggan, but Orr did, and whatever she knew was enough to terrify her.
Jaune needed a plan.
So far, all he knew about Spriggan were that they were rare, could move through plants, were big, and were enough of a threat that Orr’s first response was to run.
But there were other things he had deduced while fleeing it. For example, it was fast, faster than himself and possibly faster than Orr, as it had quickly chased them down.
Also, Orr commented on its size. This led Jaune to conclude that this was a unique Grimm.
And unique was often a marker of an Elder Grimm.
Elder Grimm were Hunter Killers.
Orr was in trouble.
Jaune finally reached the ice dam and skidded to a stop; he could still hear Orr fighting, the sound of wood splintering gave him hope, but he crushed it swiftly.
He didn’t need hope. He needed something to kill that Grimm.
He was forced to stop thinking and react when he heard a pained howl getting closer and closer.
From above.
Looking up, Jaune held out his arms and lunged backwards, catching a falling Orr, her momentum throwing him back into the water.
Jaune felt a slight ache as he felt himself come to rest; she had not been moving slowly.
“Nice catch,” Orr wheezed.
Jaune just grunted, quickly pulling her back to her feet.
Orr was as soaked as he was, but other than that, she didn’t look worse for wear. At first glance, at least. Jaune wanted to smack himself as he remembered that Aura would have safeguarded her body for the moment, but it was only a temporary protection.
Orr rolled her shoulders, twirling Breach and Sunder and not meeting Jaune’s gaze.
“I won't lie, kiddo… this ain't good,” Orr breathed, a booming howl only exacerbating her point. Orr turned to Jaune, her eyes bouncing to his cheek before she looked back to his eyes, her face shifting as she did. “You need to run.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jaune replied quickly.
“Oh, and you have a better one?” Orr challenged.
“We kill it.”
“Mm, and how do you propose we do that, huh, got a big- MOVE!”
Orr shoved him, and he flew back into the water with a splash; submerged beneath its surface, he still saw the giant form of the Spriggan crater on the shore. Even submerged, he heard its booming cacophony, unlike any animal or beast he had ever heard.
It was monstrous.
A chill engulfed him.
‘Fear? Am I feeling fear?’ Jaune wondered, perturbed.
What madness.
He had killed worse monsters, died to worse monsters; he had endured worse.
Was it for himself or Orr? He didn’t know, but as he felt that familiar embrace of fear, limb freezing, heart racing, mind freaking fear… he smiled.
Because something in him just clicked.
It had clicked when he snuck into the Huntsman HQ at reach, it clicked that night when he took care of Scarlett’s stalker, it clicked in the school gym, and it clicked mere months ago on that stormy night.
Jaune needed fear.
Fear was energy; fear was a warning; fear kept you alive.
He had felt it all these years, surrounded by his family in his house and home. He was out of place. He was in an environment that didn’t mesh with who he was. It was amazing, incredible, and peaceful; he wanted it always to be that way…
But he would never be able to embrace it fully.
Yharnam was an endless spew of death, horror, panic, and hurt, but by Kos, Jaune had adapted. He had clawed, screamed, and fought until he alone was left standing by the end of that eternal night. He had become everything he needed to be, everything necessary to survive Yharnam.
But his home.
It wasn’t like that.
And so, no matter how much he wished it, Jaune could not fit in perfectly. He could not cement himself; he couldn’t reunite with the life his family offered him… not seamlessly.
And his father knew that.
Jaune’s thoughts, urged on by the cold, cast themselves back to that somewhat chilly morning when he had bid his family farewell.
To the feel of his father’s thumb as he painted that old symbol across his face.
What gift does a father offer their son going off towards danger?
Does he gift them peace, safety, health?
Or does he gift them strength, ingenuity, endurance?
Jaune didn’t know what other fathers would gift their sons, but he knew what his father had given him.
Surety.
The mark he had inscribed on Jaune’s face was to symbolise surety. Jaune had followed the feel of the pattern, and even now, with it having been rubbed off months ago, he felt it. He felt it as surely as he felt his blood in his veins.
His father knew him too well.
Jaune snarled; the cold was growing more intense beneath the water. He needed to focus; he needed to be in the now. He required a sure course of action.
The cold prickled on his left fingertips, growing even more intense, and this time, Jaune was sure it wasn’t just fear. Confused, Jaune looked to his left and saw it.
The ice dam.
Dust.
…
Jaune had a plan.
YVYVYVYVY
Orr was furious.
The Spriggan had regrown its armour.
She didn’t know if it was normal or an Elder trait, but it was not good.
It bellowed as it swung its limb again, the shoreline torn up with each attack, the Grimm's limbs devastating the terrain.
It was faster than anything that size had any right to be. The thing moved like a tree in a hurricane, all whipping branches and sharp points. Its howling noises even sound like a storm, all incomprehensible noise and rushing air.
The sound of wood splintering was the only warning she had before the twisted wood around one of its arms twisted and lashed out like spears. She batted two away, but the third glanced off her thigh, causing her Aura to flare.
She rolled and backpedalled.
Her eyes were on the move looking for blond hair and blue eyes, but the kid wasn’t visible.
‘Shit.’
The sound of a tree falling had her flipping backwards as a root erupted beneath where she had stood only a breath before.
Orr wanted to scream. She was torn; on one side, she had Dust and other resources stashed at the F.O.R.T., but that would mean running back into the woods.
‘She was getting my ass kicked in the open well enough already, thank you very much,’ Orr thought furiously as she tried to rush the Spriggan again.
Once more, she was forced to abort her attack as the ground rolled like a wave and roots exploded outward.
This thing was quicker than Beowolf, and Orr was doing all she could to avoid its many attacks. She blinked as water and earth were flung upwards as the Spriggan yanked its limb back, destroying the shoreline and her Semblance’s marks.
That was the largest source of her problems. Her Semblance ‘Primed’ only worked if it was placed upon a stable surface, but the wooden armour of the Spriggan moved and shifted of its own accord. It wasn’t like the bone plates of other Grimm. The armour itself writhed.
Orr twisted back, her eyes scanning the area about the creek once more.
A flash of blond.
‘There you are!’
The kid was near the ice dam.
He was still alive.
Orr felt the constricting feeling in her chest relax slightly.
‘But what the hell is he doing?’ Orr wondered briefly before she was forced to destroy more stabbing wooden limbs.
Another flash of blonde.
He was to her right now, closer to the woods. That did nothing to lessen her worry; if the Spriggan caught wind of him, it would rip him to shreds.
She threw herself at it to make sure it was amply distracted.
She even managed to land a solid hit, placing and activating one of her charges on the Spriggan’s outstretched elbow. The sound of its wooden armour imploding was music to her ears, and the visceral spray of its dark Grimm blood reinvigorated her.
It was just a shame her Semblance was starting to take it out of her.
The Spriggan recoiled, the wood on its forearm sloughing off, allowing her to see the vulnerable Grimm flesh below.
It didn’t have any bone plates, and judging by how easily its blood came out, it lacked a thick hide.
That wood was its only line of defence which meant that if she could get past that wooden exterior, she could rip it apart with her teeth if need be.
Shame that said wood was probably hard enough to wrench steel apart.
*Fwit*
An arrow seared past her ear, and Orr watched as it struck true and sunk into one of the numerous red orbs of the Spriggan’s hive-like face.
It recoiled again another bellow, causing actual ripples in the nearby creek,
Orr whipped around and saw him, her sprout standing upstream with his bow in hand and another arrow nocked.
His face was so much like Hella’s, cold and fierce.
And he said four words that would make any Huntress swoon when he got older.
“I have a plan!”
Orr would adopt this insane, lanky, risk-taking menace to society if only his mother didn’t skin her for trying.
“Great, I’m all ears!” Orr hollered back, trying to lunge for its exposed arm but hitting nothing as it whipped it around and held it aloft so it was not exposed.
“We need to get it in the water!”
‘Never mind, I am gonna kill him!’ Orr raged in her head.
“Kid, we need fire, FIRE!” Orr roared as she narrowly avoided being stomped on.
The kid loosed two more arrows with a speed that even Orr found impressive, but the Spriggan whipped about swiftly, its mass nearly tipping as it avoided the projectiles. Orr tried to pursue, but its uncanny doll-like movement caught her off guard, and its hoof-like foot slammed into her pelvis.
She felt her Aura drain immensely as she slid to a stop a bit behind Jaune.
Her sprout was on her in a flash, helping her to her feet, but she had eyes only for the Spriggan as it reached into the tree line and sunk its hand into a tree. She watched aghast as the plant withered and died in seconds, and the armour on its wounded arm regrew instantly.
All her progress… gone.
Her vision was blocked by Jaune, who had grabbed he shoulders and was pointing at something.
“- If we don’t have fire, we burn it differently!”
“…What?” Orr mumbled, now paying attention.
“Frostbite! If we get it in the-“
“Duck!”
A tree half withered flew over their heads as Orr dragged Jaune back into the shallows, the Spriggan ready to continue its hunt.
“If we get it submerged, you can use the Ice Dust to freeze the creek!” Jaune hurriedly spluttered as Orr dragged him back from the stalking Spriggan.
Orr thought about it. It wasn’t an awful plan. Cold killed plants just as well as fire, and she doubted this Grimm boasted a tolerance to extreme temperatures. Not to mention if she froze it in the lake, even if it didn’t die, it might just buy them some time.
‘But…’
“Okay!” Orr hollered, swiping her war pick to shatter another probing branch that struck at her. “But you need to run!”
“But you’ll be alone!” Jaune quickly bites back, shooting another arrow, only for the Spriggan to move its head out of the way.
“I need to focus!”
“Then focus! Because if you die, I die; if it breaks off from you, that thing will run me down much quicker than you can catch it!” Jaune snapped, ducking back so he wasn’t in Orr’s way as much.
“Fuck! Fine! Just stay back!” Orr screamed, activating her semblance next to the tree the Spriggan had thrown at them. The air warped, and the giant hunk of lumber was hurled at the approaching Grimm forcefully.
It caught the thing and quickly crushed the rotted wood in its grip, but at this point, Orr would take being antagonistic if nothing else seemed to work.
Orr focused up. She would just have to trust Jaune not to run at the damn Elder Grimm. And to think she had been worried about Ursa.
“Right! You ugly fucking bonsai, I am about to give you the same fate as every house plant I have ever owned! A slow and painful death!” Orr let herself chuckle.
Humour was a funny little coping mechanism.
A.N.
Right, that’s another chapter, and while I could talk about Orr’s semblance or the Spriggan, I would instead like to address the fact that, apparently, the majority of my readers are sadists.
So the votes are in for the new update focus, and Grimm Nightmares won!
This is both great and puts the fear of god into me as I will now be trying to pump out a weekly 10k words.
You monsters.
In truth, though, I won't lie that a part of me is looking forward to this; it will be curious to see how far we can get before my sanity slips away, but oh well.
There will be a vote soon for the next arc in the fic, as I want to throw in another time skip soon to avoid getting bogged down.
Basically, it’s a vote for the next arc. I have some ideas, but if there is anything you all want to see, please feel free to speak up. As I have said, this fic is basically what happens when I fly by the seat of my pants.
Oh, also, my old man is got some good news from his doctors, so cheers for yalls consideration.
Comments
SkeletalPheonix Games
that was a adrenalin rush i didnt know I could get from reading
clagann
I’m greatly enjoying this fic enough to throw money your way now so that means your doing something right
