He had expected to dream with Weiss but it made sense that if she had been warned about him, she wouldn't come back to Beacon straight away. For all he knew Winter wasn't even talking about him at all, and just wanted to take her out of Beacon.

Although, for all he knew, this might be Weiss' dream.

He just really doubted Weiss would dream about an ancient fairytale castle at full parade, with throngs of men and women dressed in colourful tunics and dresses straight out of childhood fantasy. There was even a beautiful white castle in the background. This was much more Ruby's thing.

It was also, to his relief, a rather normal looking dream.

Or... well... not normal but not horrifically traumatic or messed up either. He'd take a casual dream about being in a fantasy world over holding down Ironwood as his arm was sawn off. He'd take it any day. Still, he made a note to keep his aura to himself and not make any changes. It was still uncertain what really caused Ironwood's arm to grow back, because he'd been using aura to change people's dreams for a while now and no one had grown extra limbs.

Oobleck thought it was intent-based. That he'd wanted to hurt Cinder and so had, and because he'd wanted Ironwood to stop suffering and so he had. It was messy and confusing, and especially now that the general was well and truly after him. A holiday in fantasyland felt much better than dealing with all that crap.

I'm used to nightmares, though. Is there a dragon around? Invading army? Orcs?

It didn't look like it. Everything was very much peaceful and celebratory, and Jaune was surrounded by people with blurred faces. They were just side characters in the dreams so he nudged his way through them, moving them aside and working his way to the front of the crowd. None of the make believe people reacted to him.

Had they been shouting more aggressively, he might have thought this an execution. That'd fit the nightmare angle. But it was obvious they were happy, so that wasn't it. At the front, he finally came out to see a ribbon of flowers being used to block off the public from a wide pathway strewn with flowers. People were throwing more and more petals onto the road.

Trumpets blared in the distance.

Not for an invasion, though. It was for a wedding.

The procession must have been royalty because they were led by knights in full armour, trumpeters, standard bearers and young children in bright livery waving flags. No less than twelve beautiful horses pulled a giant wooden platform with open topped sides, upon which sat two wooden thrones ornately carved and studded with bright stones.

Jaune was fairly confident he didn't know anyone who was secret royalty, with Pyrrha and Weiss being his most famous friends, but the people atop the platform were the clearest in terms of facial features so he assumed the dreamer was there. Or was one of them. A man and a woman stood before the thrones, their hands linked.

The woman was a beautiful pale-skinned beauty in a long white dress with flowing blonde hair a paler shade than his own. Her blue eyes were tinted with green, making them appear a mix of the two, and she waved her free hand at people on the right.

Beside her, waving his own hand at those on the other side, stood a man in some kind of fancy dress armour. That was what Jaune assumed, because the knightly plate was much sparser than Cardin's and featured a lot of green cloth, studded silver and stones. There was no helmet either, and no gauntlets or pauldrons. It reminded him more of those fancy dress uniforms military people wore when they were at a formal event. Made to remind you of what they were, but not meant to serve any real combat purpose. The man had black hair and, with the colour of his armour, reminded Jaune of Ren, but with slightly darker skin.

"Someone dreaming of the perfect wedding?" asked Jaune, not really expecting an answer out of anyone there. "I've heard of people wanting to have the most expensive wedding possible, but I think this is going to be impossible for even Weiss to afford."

The parade came by and went on, with a whole host of knights and soldiers in parade leading and travelling behind it. They looked to be headed toward the castle. The world behind them began to fade, falling back on itself and out of existence. That was his cue to catch up with them before he fell along with it, which would probably end up with him being jarringly teleported back to the dream. It was easier to step out into the flower-strewn road and chase after them on foot.

No one questioned him. The dreamer, whoever it was, hadn't even noticed and obviously wasn't looking backward – and without them to dream up a response to a random guy running after the parade, no one reacted at all. It was like he didn't exist.

The castle gates remained open, flanked by soldiers decked in floral wreaths atop their armour. Jaune felt very much out of place in his jeans and hoodie and considered conjuring up a knightly set of armour, before deciding that playing around with his Semblance for something so pointless as that would be a bad way to follow Oobleck's suggestion of not using it too much. He'd just have to deal with feeling out of place.

That sentiment didn't change when he stepped into the castle proper and found himself in a grand hallway lined with soldiers, paintings, statues and more. It was all so strangely clear for being a dream, with incredible detail and clarity on every statue. At the far end were another set of thrones, much more ornate and made from precious metal. The presumed king and queen weren't seated upon them, but they were stood there as several fancily dressed men and women spoke to them. They smiled and laughed back, clapped shoulders – it was obvious the king and several of the knights were companions from how they talked to one another.

After a few more minutes of that the two parties departed, the king and queen headed upstairs while the other group went through a corridor and away. Jaune noticed that group fading into nothingness and followed the royal couple, hoping in his head that he wasn't about to wander into a wet dream.

It wouldn't be his first time.

Luckily, they weren't making love when Jaune arrived at the ajar doorway to what he assumed was their private quarters. He could hear their voices inside the thick wooden door.

"Is it really such a chore?" asked the man.

"It's bothersome," replied the woman. "How many times have we done this now? The first was magical, the tenth a comforting reminder, but it's fast becoming repetitive. I don't like that. It feels wrong to think of my union with you in such a way."

"Fret not. I understand you mean no slight against me and I'd much rather you speak the truth than not. It is more for their sake than ours, of course. You know how it is. I am not unceasing like you."

"I know, and they cannot understand the full truth. You are a new man, a new king, or so they believe." The woman sighed. "It's just another sacrifice we have to make for them – not that they appreciate it. I've heard what they say about me. They call me a harlot, a scarlet woman, for having married so many men."

"You and I both know that isn't the case. All those men have been me."

"It does not stop their words biting." She sounded more imperious than upset, however. "You're not the one who has to deal with their arch looks."

"Nay, but I do have to deal with the pitying ones they send me when they think I don't notice."

"Pity!" she spat. "Because they believe you're just another man to be used, killed, and thrown away. What is it they think of me? Am I a monster to their eyes? I'm certainly a whore. That much they have made readily apparent."

"They are simply jealous. They look at your splendour and lash out in envy."

"A hundred times this moment means a hundred times hearing your tired excuses, dear husband. That may have worked on me a century or two ago, but it doesn't now. I'm tired of having to put on a perfect smile for these ungrateful people."

"Salem—"

"Who was it that defended them when the barbarians attacked? Us! Who was it to developed new irrigations systems when the farms suffered from the great drought? Me! Who quelled the rebellious lords of the south and brought them to heel? You!" Jaune heard a finger jab into plate. "Between us, we have solved every problem these people have had for some five hundred years, and all we get from it is complaints that things could be better, or that the last king would be rolling in his grave if he could see things now."

"I am aware of the irony of that statement, yes. And I'm aware of how they act." The king sighed. "I won't admit it doesn't bother me as well, but what can be done?"

"Why can't we take some time off?"

"Salem—"

"No. Hear me out. The world won't end without us at the helm. A hundred years – or just fifty. A single lifetime. We can be hermits somewhere, live with just the two of us, explore our love and go on our own adventures away from the royal expectations and demands. It would be special!"

"Salem, my love—"

"Do not call me that if you're only going to use it against me. Why not? Why can we not do this?"

"Because we have a responsibility."

"A pox on responsibility! We've been fulfilling our responsibilities for the last half a millennia! We've repented. We've made amends. We've brought the world back to a better place than it was. Why must we continue to suffer? We didn't ask for this. I asked for you back and they gave, only to take away and act surprised when grief took me! Then they dragged you back again. No permission was asked, no consent, and yet you act as if we are the ones who erred."

"You're always at your most beautiful when you're angry."

"Enough!" Her voice boomed, and even Jaune winced. "Don't think me so stupid as to be distracted by pretty compliments! Do not insult me so!"

"I'm sorry. I meant no lie, though. You will always be radiant in my eyes."

"Yes? Well, I am feeling less radiant in my own skin. If I am a sun then I am burning out. It is not the same for you. You get to play knight, work your way back up, experience a new life every time. My role is eternal. I must sit and smile and talk and dance and ward off suitors waiting for you to come back to me. You've lived a hundred different lives while I only ever have the one. I need a reprieve. I need... I need time to myself."

His breath hitched. "Are you saying you wish to divorce!?"

"No! Why would I marry you now only to spring that? I'm saying I want change, my love. I want us to do new things. When I was locked in that tower, you brought a new world to me. It was the happiest moment of my life. Now, I am locked in a new tower, ivory though it may be, and my world is again limited to the palace. Why can't I try a life as a farmer? Why can't we live together in the wilderness, or a small village, or just by ourselves on a mountain? The kingdom will survive."

"And if it does not?"

"If it does not then we can rebuild it! We've done it before!"

"At what cost? These people have lives—"

"We have ours, too!" yelled the woman. "And you're not— No. We can continue this later, when I have cooled down."

"My love—" A door opened and slammed shut. Jaune heard the man sigh. "Why can I never find the right words? I'm such a fool."

It sounded like it. Jaune was no marriage counsellor but this really felt like something that could have been solved by promising some level of change. The context was lost on him, especially the bit about spending five hundred years together, but this felt like a case of the guy needing to do something for his wife. Not just blowing her off—

A fist caught in his collar and yanked him into the room. Jaune was thrown back, landed hard on his shoulder and skidded across the rough stone floor. He got his aura up just in time for an armoured boot to stamp down on his chest and for a sword to tickle his neck.

"Think you that I didn't hear your approach?" snarled the irate man above him. "Your breathing was loud, knave. Who sent you? Who are you? Speak!"

"J—Jaune Arc!"

"Arc? Of the noble line—? No Theobold hath only a son and he is half your age." The sword tickled closer, and even though it wouldn't cut through his aura, he sweated a little. "Speak the truth or I shall have you thrown in the dungeons to rot!"

"I'm Jaune Arc. I come from Beacon."

The sword wavered. "Beacon...?"

"Uh. A school. Huntsman academy."

"Huntsman...? Why a school to hunt animals? No. Not animals. Grimm." The man stepped off him, the sword moving away. The knight clutched at his head. "This is— Beacon. The name, it... it is familiar. Where am I? I..." He looked around and froze, and then an expression of intense grief came over him. "Here, of all places and times? I had almost..." His eyes glanced down. "Of course it would be you, Mr Arc. I should have expected it would be my turn eventually."

The voice and the way he called him was what clued Jaune in.

"Ozpin!?"

"Forgive me." The old man – though he certainly didn't look old right now – sheathed his sword and reached a hand down to grasp his and haul him to his feet. "So, this is what it feels like to be in a lucid dream. It's less freeing than I imagined it would be." Ozpin closed his eyes and concentrated, then opened them. "I can't seem to force my will on the world. That's a shame. I thought the whole benefit to lucid dreaming was to have the power to change anything I wished."

Jaune swallowed. "You're awfully calm, sir."

"I understood there was always a risk you'd be in my dreams sooner or later. At least I can be here and aware to welcome you." He smiled bitterly. "What little welcome is available here. You must have questions, Mr Arc."

"Uh. Not really."

Ozpin looked stunned.

"I mean, this is a dream you're having about being a king in a fantasy land. It's not like you're dreaming something insane like murdering babies or setting fire to Team RWBY for earning their four millionth detention." Ozpin snorted, cracking a smile. "So, I don't think it's that weird or anything."

"I see. Put like that, I suppose you're not wrong. Only... misinformed." Ozpin turned and moved toward the doorway. "Walk with me, Mr Arc. I'd like to show you something. I don't suppose you know the time?"

"Not in the slightest, but you're my first dream of the night."

"Then I'll trust I have a few hours sleep left in me, barring a sudden and rude awakening. Team RWBY aren't out on the town again, are they?"

"No, sir. They're asleep in their dorms."

"Small mercies. The staffroom has a running pool going for how long it'll take them to destroy another vital piece of infrastructure. I've put 500 lien down on them causing damage to Amity Colosseum during the festival. Glynda thinks they'll collapse the entire dorm wing of the school before we even make it to the tournament."

That wasn't a lot of faith in them, but Jaune supposed they had a reputation for a reason. It felt strange to be talking so casually to the headmaster, but it was better than being a voyeur in someone else's dream. It was nice knowing he wasn't intruding for once.

Ozpin seemed to know his way around the castle, too. He looked around as he walked, smiling brightly at the paintings and scenery. "Do you see that one?" he asked, pointing at a stylised mural made of mosaic depicting a battle between a knight and a serpent. "That is one of your ancestors. Lord Sandyn Arc. A great man who, among his many accomplishments, was most famous for slaying a mighty Grimm drake that threatened a village. He also won numerous tournaments and was beloved my many fair ladies. Though, as is traditional for Arc men, he seemed to fixate on only one and raised five children with her. Your father has him beat on that record. We always did joke that nothing can stop an Arc when they are determined, certainly not contraceptive herbs or – in more recent times – rubber."

Jaune winced. "Thanks for the mental image, sir."

"Ha!" Ozpin's laughter was strange, maybe because it was so much deeper and freer in this young body. As headmaster, he tended to chuckle more and maintain decorum. "Let it be a warning for you then. There hasn't been an Arc to my memory who has been able to keep things casual. I don't think Miss Xiao-Long will appreciate being left with child if you decide to have your dalliance."

That wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with one of his teachers.

Though he did make a mental note anyway.

Whether it was with Yang or someone else, an unplanned pregnancy in school would be a bad idea. It could be career-ending for a young woman in education, and even if it wasn't that it'd probably be relationship ending.

"Sorry if I'm being too casual with you. This dream is effecting my mood." Ozpin laughed again and moved them on, out onto a balcony where the warm sun and clear air assailed them. Ozpin took a deep breath, then coughed. "It doesn't smell as fresh as I remember! I expected a great gulp of clear air, and I think I just inhaled some blanket in real life."

"That happens," said Jaune. "It's all make-believe. Sorry. You don't even need to breathe if you think about it. But I wouldn't try. The panic still feels real even if you can't die."

"Hmm. The body's instincts at work no doubt. We're not made to hold our breaths indefinitely." Ozpin let out a shorter breath and tested the ornate balcony, before finding it solid and leaning on it. They were overlooking a beautiful town. "Tell me what you see, Mr Arc."

"I see a small fantasy town."

Ozpin laughed again.

"Is that not what it is? It looks fantasy."

"No. No. That's not it. It's the fact you called it a small town." He wiped at his eye. "But I suppose you're right in a way. Only some twenty thousand people live here, which must seem quaint compared to Vale's bustling metropolis. The world's population was markedly different in ancient times, however. This is no mere town. It's a capital city."

Really? It didn't look big enough for that, though he supposed it made some sense logistically. The reason cities could get so big nowadays was because you had industrialisation and transport capable of manufacturing and delivering enough food for so large a population. Back in medieval times, which this fantasy land was copying, they'd have been limited by how much farmland they had. Not to mention the global population would just be a whole lot lower.

It was also harder to fit that kind of population density in one place when your primary construction material was wood and straw thatch. It wasn't like they could bring in a crane to build another skyscraper apartment block for some several hundred people. Everything had to be built by hand with traditional tools. Plus, the Grimm. Hard to gather that many people in one place and defend them when your primary weapons weren't mecha-shift, and when you didn't have guns and tanks and all the other stuff the modern world took for granted.

"I guess it's a matter of scale," he said. "It looks nice, though. Is this out of a book you read, or is your imagination just really detailed?"

"Neither." Ozpin turned to him, smiling handsomely. If this was Ozpin when he was younger, then he must have been a real heart throb. "This, Mr Arc, is one of the many precursor kingdoms to Vale. It is what stood eons before Vale, and before the kingdom that followed after it. It is ancient history to you, back at the dawn of time and records. And more than that," he added. "This is one is all very real. I was here, several thousand years ago, when all began to go wrong."

Jaune waited for the man to tell him it was a joke.

He didn't.

"What...?"

"It will take some time to explain but given your Semblance's proclivities for delving into secrets you should not be privy to, I feel I must." Ozpin pushed off the balcony. "Come with me. It is time you learn the dark and distant truths of our world."