Escalation 005 (Patreon)

Pyrrha was blessed, she knew.

She was blessed with incredible talent. She was blessed with opportunity. Growing up, she was constantly surrounded by love and praise; but when you are placed on a pedestal like that for so long, you become separated from the very people that put you there in the first place. It was a lonely existence; to be showered with affection but unable to connect with any of it. To be loved by so many, yet for those same people to believe you are too good, on a level that cannot be attained. Because of this, it became impossible to form any sort of meaningful relationship with others. It was a difficult pill to swallow; that the very skills she was so proud of, skills earned through blood, sweat and tears, was the thing that kept her apart from everyone else.

Then she came to Beacon – and everything changed.

Everyone thought that she would attend Haven Academy. Even her mother had believed so. It was the premier Huntsman academy on the continent of Anima, and they had been doing their very best to recruit her from a young age when it became clear that she was a generational talent. When she finally let her intentions be known that she was going to be attending Beacon instead, the shock had reverberated throughout the professional fighting world.

They were losing their crown jewel, tabloids read. The golden child was flying the coop, others printed. Why was she forsaking her homeland? She was questioned repeatedly on her decision but she remained silent and steadfast, unmoved by their pleas. Pyrrha wanted a fresh start, away from everything she ever knew. Of course, her fame was not just limited to Anima. But she had hoped – prayed! – that Vale and Beacon were far enough away that maybe, just maybe, she could find people that didn’t care that she was Pyrrha Nikos, Invincible Girl. That she could finally make friends. Real friends that didn’t care that she was a championship fighter or that she graduated at the top of her class. People that might have only briefly heard of her because she was the face of Pumpkin Pete’s for a short time, that unhealthy cereal loved by children.

And that is exactly what she found.

Jaune Arc was a breath of fresh air – and she loved him for it, so much.

That first meeting in the locker room before initiation had been a sign. He was everything she had ever wanted in a friend. Completely oblivious to her reputation, he had been utterly unfazed when Weiss Schnee had attempted to enlighten him on her ‘greatness’. His complete lack of concern with her accolades had immediately endeared her to him, and she knew when Headmaster Ozpin revealed the criteria on forming partnerships that he had to be hers. It may have been a hasty decision, born of desperation to seize the moment but...

There was no other option. None.

Pinning him to a tree might have been a little extreme but she couldn’t take any chances. Hasty or not, it was the best decision she had ever made, right alongside choosing to attend Beacon in the first place.

But what had started out as a quest to find friendship had quickly evolved into so much more.

Pyrrha grinned in exhilaration as her shield shook from the force of Jaune’s sword stroke, the vibrations traveling through her arm and shoulder. Blue eyes narrowed in concentration as he stepped back to avoid her counter swing, Miló missing his chin by a matter of inches. Twirling with the momentum of her swing, Pyrrha leapt off the ground, twisting her body through the air in a feat of effortless acrobatics. Lashing out with a powerful kick, Jaune grunted as he was forced back, her boot clanging off his shield.

Landing in a crouch, Pyrrha watched as he stumbled, dashing forward to take advantage of his unbalanced stance. Ducking low, she swept his feet out from under him, beaming with approval as he hit the ground and rolled instantly to avoid any follow up. Her sword struck the dirt where his body had previously been, and emerald eyes widened in surprise when Crocea Mors flashed at her face.

Now it was her on the retreat.

That had been positively sneaky of him.

“Excellent,” she praised as he regained his feet. “I don’t believe I taught you that.”

Jaune panted, sweat pouring from his brow. “I missed.”

Pyrrha laughed. “You did – but it was close. Do you see? Your hard work is paying off. To attack from such a vulnerable position, many will not expect it. When most people are brought to the ground, they panic. It is an unfamiliar place for them to be. If I had been careless, the point would have been undoubtedly yours.”

She had fought better fighters than Jaune, of course she had – here at Beacon, at Sanctum, in the arenas of Argus and Mistral. But she had never enjoyed those fights even half as much as she enjoyed their simple spars. And of all the people she had ever fought, she had never witnessed such untapped potential before like she did in Jaune. He was a sponge. Her teachings were absorbed like water and he grew by leaps and bounds. At the beginning, she had feared that her training would be too much for him. Humility was a strong facet of hers but she understood that not many people, even those training to become huntsmen and huntresses could withstand the grueling pace she endured to gain her own skills. Even greater, she was pushing Jaune much harder than even she had experienced – he had a lot of ground to make up, and little time to achieve it. He needed to get better. It needed to happen now.

And it was.

He took everything she threw at him and never faltered. Jaune had an incredibly strong will and an astonishing drive and desire to prove his worth. She had never witnessed someone work as hard as he did and Pyrrha was certain now that he would become a great huntsman, one of the best, and if people liked to call her the Invincible Girl and place her on an unattainable pedestal, then she would elevate him beside her. Together, they would be unstoppable. Together, they would battle the creatures of Grimm and those that wished to do innocents harm and they would make Remnant a safer place.

This she promised.

He would be with her; always.

In all ways.

Pyrrha’s cheeks flushed at the thought and readied her weapons. “Again.”

Jaune huffed but smiled, raising his shield and preparing his sword. “Again,” he echoed.

Many of the combatants on the fighting circuit often spoke of certain opponents they deemed a personal challenge; a rival. They were someone that always brought out the best or worst in them, regardless of skill or time, a challenger that pushed them beyond their limits every time they fought. Oftentimes, they held different ideals or personalities, their only similarity their love of the fight. Bonded in mutual dislike or respect, defeating their rival was a highlight of their fighting career. It held special, personal meaning to them – beyond that of winning a trophy or the accolades of greater feats.

She never really understood it. Pyrrha had never once considered anyone her rival.

But that only applied to fighting. While Pyrrha was an unstoppable force on the battlefield, she knew that in other areas of life, she was not quite so blessed. She had never experienced what it was like to have a rival. Until now.

Because without a doubt, Weiss Schnee was her rival in love.

If she were a lesser fighter, she would have allowed the thought to distract her but she wasn’t. So when Jaune attempted a clever feint after allowing her blade through his guard, she was able to spot it and avoid his counter-thrust. The tip of his sword speared by her face as she twirled away, her shield striking out. It struck his own shield with a clang, sparks igniting as the edge scraped over the white face. Stepping back, Pyrrha set her feet and defended as Jaune advanced, parrying his well-practiced strikes. His pattern was simple and predictable but relentless and swift, and Pyrrha found few openings to exploit as he kept his form tight and controlled.

Weiss Schnee – an eternal thorn in her side, one that she wished to vanquish more than anything. Pyrrha had thought things had been settled. After the heiress had shown such interest in Neptune, Jaune had pulled back. His own affections for the girl had been set aside in his pursuit of making her happy and while it had worked in her favor, Pyrrha had been incredibly jealous of the care and concern her partner showed Weiss. He no longer attempted to flirt with her and since asking her to the dance, he never asked her out on a date ever again. Pyrrha had believed that the chips had fallen in her favor, that the path was now clear for her to make her move, all she had to do was summon up the courage to actually do something.

If only she had the same confidence with her heart that she possessed with her sword.

But she had time. There was no rush now. She could take it one step at a time, make sure that the path she trod was true and then when the time was right, make her move. Control the battlefield, control your opponent. Were matters of the heart not just a different type of fight?

Pyrrha was proud that when the time had presented itself, she had struck. The massages she had been administering had been torture and not just for Jaune. Being able to touch his body, skin on skin, had inflamed her passions to heights she hadn’t believed possible. It had taken all of her self control not to tip her hand too early and to build up a routine. Pyrrha knew that these types of massages weren’t particularly enjoyable to endure but they were good for the body, and when the chance had offered itself, she took it.

She could still feel him in her hand.

Pyrrha grit her teeth as Jaune rammed her with his shield, unable to set her feet in time. A rare error, she was sent stumbling as he followed after her with an over-head strike. She parried it with an expert roll of the wrist, even if her footwork was a mess. Overextended, Pyrrha kicked out at his knee while hip-checking him. With a shout of surprise, Jaune fell, rolling quickly to his feet as Pyrrha regained her poise.

That had been close.

If they hadn’t been interrupted that day, Pyrrha knew she would have taken their friendship across the line into something more. It had been exhilarating, touching him in such an intimate way. It had made her heart pound and her skin itch, not unlike a championship match.

She had wanted it so badly. She wanted him so badly. But the chance had escaped her.

And now – her once vanquished rival had returned, and Pyrrha didn’t understand why.

She wasn’t so petty as to begrudge a friendship between Weiss and Jaune. Heavens knew that Jaune had wanted to be her friend, just as much as he wished to take her out on a date. More so, even. Pyrrha would never object to such an occurrence. Weiss had always made it so difficult, though. Even after Neptune, the girl had remained stand-offish and prickly.

Then out of nowhere, things changed.

Without warning, Weiss was now the one seeking Jaune out. Offering to help him study, offering him pointers after fights in Combat Class, she was even sitting next to him during meals now! Not just during meals, either. The white haired girl had taken to sitting beside him in class. Ruby usually sat on his other side but the Atlesian native had usurped that position and was not relinquishing it. This sudden change hadn’t just been noticed by her, either – but while the rest of their friends were just happy that they were now getting along, Pyrrha felt something ugly twist in her gut.

Weiss couldn’t actually like him now, could she?

“Ack~!” Jaune grunted as she struck swiftly, piercing his defense to land a blow against his ribs. The ferocity of her attacks increased, her eyes narrowed in focus. He did his best to defend against the sudden onslaught and he did well, tanking her strongest swings on his shield and bleeding the force off by tilting the face expertly, but he was quickly being driven back.

There was no way this was happening, right? Right when she had built up the courage to make her move. Right when the path to her goal was clear. Weiss had been clear in her feelings towards Jaune. She didn’t like him. She didn’t. She couldn’t.

Right!?

Jaune tried to press back and halt her momentum, their swords clashing again and again, but he was no match for her. Not yet. When their blades next struck, Miló rasped down the edge of Crocea Mors and tilted, slamming into the guard. The stock of the blow so close to his hand loosened his hold and forced the sword from his grip. Before he could attempt any recovery, Pyrrha smashed his shield aside and struck, her heeled boot slamming into his chest plate with force.

Her team leader grunted as he hit the dirt and she was upon him in an instant, straddling his waist and pressing her sword against his neck. Poised above him like an avenging shield-maiden of myth, Pyrrha panted as she loomed over him.

“Yield,” she demanded.

Blue eyes blinked up at her in surprise.

“Uh,” he swallowed as she pressed the sword harder against his skin. Not enough to pierce flesh and draw blood but the threat was clear. “I yield! I yield!”

There was a moment where all Pyrrha could hear was the pounding of her own heart and then she stood and stepped away, gritting her teeth.

She had allowed her emotions to get the best of her. For just a moment, she had seen Weiss underneath her and not Jaune. It had been unintentional but she had shown her partner great disrespect in that moment, by thinking of another. Shame coiled in her stomach, almost choking her.

She never wished to disrespect him, not in such a way. This training was important. She should not be thinking of Weiss Schnee when they fought. She should not be thinking of personal gain. She was here for Jaune. He was giving her his all and she needed to be doing the same.

“Wow,” Jaune laughed after gaining his bearings, bracing himself on his elbows as he looked up at her. “That was intense. I guess you weren’t holding back this time, huh?”

Pyrrha found it hard to meet his gaze but she did so and her shame evaporated in an instant.

His skin was dewy with sweat and his cheek was smeared by a streak of dirt, his face flushed from his exertion – and he was so, so handsome. He had lost much of the baby fat he had carried at the beginning of the year; his jawline chiseled and cheeks high, defined. Jaune had the most brilliant deep blue eyes; bright and open, an endless expanse that was inviting and warm. Pale blonde hair full of luster swayed gently in the mild breeze, healthy and soft. Pyrrha wished to thread her fingers through it and feel it upon her hand, to press her forehead to his.

His looks had never factored into her choice of partnering with him but she could never deny how attractive she found him, even back then. Tall and broad, he had already had the makings of a warrior’s build. Jaune had just required a whetstone to hone his edge. Pyrrha was that whetstone.

He was a fine blade; the finest. She wished to wield him.

Pyrrha cleared her throat. “Sorry. It seems I got a little carried away.”

Jaune chuckled. “It’s fine. I have to learn to fight on that level someday, right?”

She nodded. “You do. You will. You’ve grown so much. I would not lie about this.”

“I know,” he replied. “I know you wouldn’t. I believe in you, teacher.”

Pyrrha felt her cheeks burn lightly as he smirked. “Oh shut up. Please don’t call me that. It makes me feel old.”

Stowing away her shield and weapon upon her back, she offered a hand. Reaching up, his large hand grasped hers powerfully and she hauled him up a little too enthusiastically. Jaune laughed again as he staggered against her and Pyrrha felt her heart jolt into her throat as he used his free hand to steady himself upon her hip. They were close; oh so close. Peering up through her lashes, it would take only the barest of movement to seal her lips with his. His scent was a combination of heavy musk and faded deodorant, rendering her mind a sluggish mess. She inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned into him.

Pyrrha was a tall young woman but Jaune was taller still, and if she so wished it, she could nestle her cheek into the crook of his neck. The temptation was killing her and when she opened her eyes, emerald met blue.

“There you are!” a familiar voice called out and the moment was shattered into a million tiny shards. “I’ve been looking for you two everywhere!”

Pyrrha stepped back from Jaune, her fists curling involuntarily as Weiss Schnee approached with her usual grace and poise. Looking at the shorter girl, it galled her to admit that the heiress was beyond beautiful. Even without all the refinement of the Atlesian elite, she was naturally gorgeous; her face the kind of beauty that in times past would drive kingdoms to war. Her scar did nothing to detract from it; in Pyrrha’s opinion, it only made her look even prettier by bringing her down.

She wanted to punch her in her dumb, attractive face.

“Weiss!” Jaune exclaimed, turning to the interloper. “You were looking for us?”

Weiss smiled and Pyrrha couldn’t help but notice the way Jaune brightened.

“I was,” she confirmed. “But – I am not interrupting, am I? I did not realize that you were training. I would not wish to impose.”

Pyrrha hid her scowl behind wiping the sweat from her brow. Someone as socially conscious as Weiss very well knew that she was imposing. Her words were nothing but lip service. Unfortunately, Jaune was much too oblivious to notice, or much too kind to ever call her out on it if he did.

“You aren’t,” Jaune reassured her, bending down to pick up his sword. Sheathing it within his shield, he returned it to its smaller form and attached it to his belt. “We’re finished – I think. Pyrrha?”

A vindictive voice whispered that she could correct him and tell Weiss to leave, they had more training to conduct and she was only getting in the way of it, but it was quickly squashed beneath rationality and Jaune’s expectant smile.

“Yes,” she nodded. “This is a good place to finish.”

“Excellent,” Weiss stepped closer, laying a hand on Jaune’s arm. Pyrrha tensed. “Shall we go for refreshments? I bring news.”

Without thought, Pyrrha reached out and placed her own hand on his other arm, gripping his bicep firmly. “News?” she questioned, perhaps a tad sharply.

Weiss shot her a curious glance. “Indeed. Professor Goodwitch has a task for our teams to complete. We can decline, of course – it is the weekend and our personal time, but it will count as extra credit for Combat Class if we agree.”

Suddenly, Jaune was all business. “What is this task?”