Chapter Text
The way Nora kicked in the door to hers and team RWBY’s common room achieved two things:
First, it scared the absolute dust out of her fearless leader—her future hubby, Brothers permitting. Second, it left a bootprint on the door. A deep bootprint. A bootprint Coco had spent half a dozen visits attempting to achieve with her own heels.
RWBY plus Jaune and Pyr-Pyr were lounging on the couches watching movies. Not animated. Not action flicks. So, obviously: boring ones.
But that didn’t matter. Nora Valkyrie was a woman on a mission. A mission of destiny. A mission of romance. A mission of—
“I gotta get my man!”
She sprinted across the room and slid dramatically onto her knees in front of Jaune—who sat between Ruby and Pyrrha, both now speckled with popcorn shrapnel from her mighty door-kick.
“Marry me, Jaune-Jaune!” she declared, kneeling, arm outstretched like a knight to a princess.
The reaction was immediate and spectacular.
Jaune froze, blue eyes going very wide, mouth flapping helplessly as he looked between her and Ren with growing panic.
Pyrrha’s eyes widened with betrayal so pure Nora almost felt bad. Almost. But this was an emergency.
Yang and Weiss simply gaped, mouths open, synchronized disbelief.
Ruby squealed.
“What?!” Half the people shouted.
Time for the big guns.
Nora dug into her side purse, withdrew a bright red, strawberry-flavored candy ring, and presented it like treasure.
“Marry me? It’s strawberry flavored. The best one!” Ruby nodded with profound wisdom, acknowledging the truth of the statement.
Jaune turned to Ren, terrified.
“Ren?! I have no idea what’s happening! I swear!”
“I know.” Ren said calmly. “I’ll get the tea.” He moved to the kitchenette to get his leafy water.
“So…?” Nora leaned further into Jaune’s space, grinning.
“Nora—why?” he asked, blushing furiously.
She blinked. Oh! His self-esteem thingy. Right. Time to hype up future hubby.
“Well, you’re caring, funny, good-looking, and Pyr’s workout routine has made you ripped! And I know you love me and Renny. You’re a catch, Jaune-Jaune!”
He turned a brighter shade.
“And I’m a catch too!” she added proudly.
His expression only grew more confused, but Nora—ever helpful—continued. She stood and struck a pose.
“First of all, I have huge bazongas, like big hoonkers, massive badongadonkers!” She glanced toward Weiss. “I know you prefer the petite ones. But bigger is better!”
The heiress squeaked in outrage.
“And if you’re into butts, lemme tell you—the Schneehind and the Bellabooty can’t compare to my thunder thighs! The Nordic Mounts are unsurpassed!”
Now Blake was protesting too.
“I’m confused,” Jaune said weakly, looking between all three women like he had been dropped into one of Pyrrha's favorite foreign movies without subtitles.
Ren finally returned, offering Jaune a cup. The blond drank half before Ren even let go.
“Did you explain it properly, Nora?” Ren asked, sipping his own tea.
“I’m telling him I’m gonna rock his world, Renny! That’s a Valkyrie promise.” She winked.
Judging by the way Jaune now resembled a distressed tomato, she was definitely having an effect.
He looked back at Ren, frantic. “I swear I didn’t make any moves on her! Ren, you’re like a brother to me—I’d never betray you!”
She huffed. “Did you give my hubby the shovel talk, Renny? We’re not even dating yet!”
“Unnecessary,” Ren replied. “I know Jaune loves you and would never knowingly hurt us.”
“Like family!” Jaune added quickly. “You’re my teammates and I adore you both, but where did the marriage thing come from?! Also—aren’t you with Ren?”
Nora recoiled like he’d slapped her.
“Ren is my brother, Jaune. I said we weren’t together-together!”
“I thought you meant it like Coco and Velvet ‘aren’t together-together!’”
“Jaune, I have no problem with you being bi, but fantasizing about my brother is weird. At least it is with me in it.”
He started sputtering denials so hard he nearly inhaled the cup of tea.
“I could understand Yang and Rubes if you’re into siblings,” Nora said, eyeing Yang speculatively.
“HEY! No lewding my little sis!” Yang squawked.
“And I already have a unicorn picked out,” Nora continued matter-of-factly. “So no Renny. Maybe on an anniversary if you’re a good boy?”
Jaune shut down completely. Steam might’ve actually escaped his ears. Poor boy overheated under the weight of his own pervy delusions—and definitely not from sheer embarrassment and confusion.
Pyrrha— her future unicorn—raised her hand timidly. “Can someone please explain what is happening?”
Weiss and Blake nodded fervently, united for once in their desire for gossip.
After a long, steady sip of tea, Ren finally answered.
“You all know Nora and I aren’t Valean, correct?”
“Yeah,” Ruby said. “Mistralian, right?”
Ren nodded. “To be considered Beacon students and Valean citizens, your documentation must be complete and valid. Mine was registered through my village—later, through Mistral. Nora, however… was part of a nomadic tribe. She didn’t have any formal papers at all.”
Everyone nodded slowly. Confused, but following so far.
Ren continued, “We applied for Valean citizenship. Our attendance at Beacon was the primary justification for fast-tracking the approval. Every kingdom wants more hunters, after all.”
“So what happened?” Yang asked.
“Mine was approved and finalized.” He paused, exhaling gently. “Nora’s was denied.”
“WHAT?!” the entire room exploded.
“They say I need to do all the proper Mistralian documentation first…” Nora pouted, crossing her arms dramatically. “But that would take years!”
“Two to seven months,” Ren corrected calmly. He was promptly ignored.
“Years, I say! And I’d get suspended from Beacon while doing it!”
Weiss grimaced. “And that would tank your cumulative scores. Possibly even force you to repeat a year.”
“...breaking team JNPR,” Ruby whispered, horrified.
A thick silence fell.
Then Blake exhaled, understanding dawning. “Oh. I get it now. You want to marry Jaune for the visa, don’t you?”
“Yup!” Nora chirped, immediately bright again. She plopped herself onto Jaune’s lap with zero hesitation, holding the candy ring in front of his face like a medal. “And he is a catch, like I said!”
Jaune stared at her, at Ren, at the strawberry ring, completely overwhelmed. “Why… why didn’t you start with that, Nora?!”
She blinked at him, baffled.
“I did! I said you were cute, strong, ripped, totally into me—”
“That was not explaining the visa!” Weiss screeched.
“Really?” Nora asked, genuinely confused. “It made perfect sense in my head.”
Ren sighed into his tea.
Ruby raised her hand. “Um… can Jaune actually do that? Would it work?”
“It would,” Ren confirmed softly. “Marriage to a Valean citizen grants immediate provisional residency.”
Pyrrha squeaked.
Nora only smiled wider, candy ring glittering.
“So whaddya say, Jaune-Jaune? Wanna get hitched and save the team?”
He opened his mouth— and absolutely no coherent sound emerged.
“You know what? Sure.” Jaune slid the candy ring onto his finger with solemn determination and a happy squeal out of Nora and Ruby. “Beacon has chapels, right?”
“Yes,” Ren replied… as he produced a thick stack of official forms from absolutely nowhere. “We’ll need your signature here, four witnesses, and a certified priest from any of the major recognized religions.”
“Where were you keeping those papers?” Weiss' question was successfully and completely ignored.
“You… had all this prepared?” Jaune sputtered as he shifted the documents in one hand—Nora still perched proudly in his lap like a tiny, giggling goddess of chaos.
“Yes. I also checked availability for the Church of the Brothers and the Temple of Light this week,” Ren said as he slid another page forward, pointing at a neat little schedule grid.
“Do you want a ceremony, Nora?” Jaune asked gently.
“Eh… kinda?” she answered, suddenly shy.
“Yes,” Ren corrected. “The answer is yes. Nora has always talked about having a huge wedding. And a bigger family.”
“Ren!” Nora hissed. “But we don’t have to!” she added quickly. “Not if you don’t want a big thing, Jaune-Jaune.”
Weiss threw her hands up. “Why are you all taking this seriously?! The marriage is just for the visa. Ceremony, celebration—none of it matters! In a few years, once the citizenship is finalized, you divorce.”
“Divorce is… kind of a problem for me, though…” Jaune muttered.
Yang blinked. “Why, VB? You afraid to let little Nora go?”
“It’s the vows….” Jaune blushed scarlet. “Arcs don’t go back on their word. If I say I’ll stay by her side until death, through sickness and health… then I have to mean it.”
The room froze.
Even Ruby’s popcorn paused midair.
“Wait.” Pyrrha leaned forward. “You’re actually thinking of treating this as a real marriage?”
“Well… yes?” Jaune scratched his neck. “I mean… a vow is a promise."
Ren smiled softly. “I fail to see how this differs from what you already do.”
Everyone blinked at him.
Ren turned to Jaune fully, voice still gentle. “Tell me, Jaune. Would you abandon any of us if we were hurt or sick?”
“No!”
“Would you run if we faced death?”
“Never!”
“Would you leave any of us in a time of need?”
“Of course not!” Jaune said, genuinely offended.
Ren nodded. “Then the only difference is a golden band on your finger… or a vow necklace, depending on which ceremony you choose.”
Silence.
Then Ruby whispered, awed:
“Holy heck… Jaune’s basically been married to all of you since week two.”
Nora beamed.
Jaune choked on air.
Blake quietly updated her mental fanfiction list.
Weiss seriously reconsidered waking up this morning.
“Wait, does that mean team RWBY is also married?” Yang said looking around and grinning. “Do I have the right to 50% of all Blakes tuna?”
“We are in four Yang. At best you get 25%.” Blake replied. “Also, if you come for my tuna I’m coming for your shampoo!”
And the night resumed into playful banter as it always did.
~*~
“And that’s how your mom proposed to me,” said the titan of a blond man, stroking his braided beard like the story was ancient myth rather than utter peak Nora Valkyrie chaos.
A small light red-haired girl scrunched her nose. “I have no idea if that’s romantic or not.”
“It’s super Mom though,” her older brother replied matter-of-factly. “If she didn’t crash through a door or threaten dad with candy, it wouldn’t be real.”
Jaune Arc sat in the family’s log-cabin living room, the soft crackle of the fireplace filling the silence between the kids’ giggles. All three of his children were clustered around him like ducklings.
Thor—seven years old, already broad-shouldered, blond as sunlight—leaned his chin into his palms. He could heft Maghild like a toy hammer and took terrifying pride in that fact.
Freya, a tiny gremlin of pure Valkyrie energy, was sketching diagrams on the wooden floor with crayons. She had announced—loudly—that Crocea Mors’ shield would become a cannon as soon as she inherited it. Jaune suspected he had maybe a year after giving it to her before the poor thing exploded.
And little Aurelia slept curled in her father’s arm, a tuft of deep wine red hair and soft baby breaths, completely oblivious to the chaos of her bloodline.
Jaune pressed a kiss to her head, set her gently in her cradle, and stood.
“Alright, TV time,” he said, ruffling Thor’s hair as he stepped past. “I need to finish dinner.”
He moved into the kitchen, the warm smells of roasting vegetables and seasoned meat filling the space. The table needed setting, and the cake Ren had delivered earlier had to be brought out of the fridge.
They were celebrating tonight.
Not a mission victory. Not a birthday.
A new Arc—another little star—would be joining their constellation in six or seven months.
Nora had wanted to throw a massive party, complete with fireworks, a marching band, live Grimm wrestling (Jaune had vetoed that one immediately), copious amounts of Arc wine and what she called a 'Congratulations Cake Tower™.'
Pyrrha, mercifully, had talked her down to something small. Something quiet. Something intimate. It was easier when she had to take it easier and couldn’t really drink.
Just them. Their little, strange, wonderful family.
As Jaune set out the plates and cups, he paused for a heartbeat, letting his gaze drift back toward the living room—where Thor laughed at something on TV, Freya schemed her next weapon upgrade, and Nora and Pyrrha could be seen outside the window whispering conspiratorially about something.
He knew his life was odd. His team was odd. His family was chaotic at best and a public safety hazard at worst.
But as he placed the last cup on the table, he couldn’t imagine any other version of it.
He wouldn’t trade a single moment. Not for the world.