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Title: Storm Clouds Are Gathering
Fandom: RWBY (Rooster Teeth - 2013)
Genre: Romance | Adventure | Friendship | Angst
Pairings: BlakexRoman (Black Torch), RubyxWeiss (White Rose)
Rating: K+ for mild violence
Setting: After the events of Volume 2
Synopsis: In the aftermath of the Grimm attack at the centre of the Vale and the capture of Roman Torchwick, Team RWBY is left to prepare for the next confrontation. In the anticipation, blades are sharpened, loyalties questioned and feelings uncovered.
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, settings, plot points and phrases from the original works listed above. The cover image (or lack thereof) belongs to me, I just happen to look enough like Ruby, or rather my avatar does - and that is entirely unintentional. The in-universe technical terms, such as Dust, Aura, Faunus etc. will be capitalised.
Please read! My first story in this fandom, hope you enjoy. This fic evokes the post Volume 2 status quo with four short sequences, each in the PoV of a different Team RWBY member.
This chapter is narrated by Blake and Ruby, featuring subverted/inverted Stockholm Syndrome and a duel between two characters I'd have liked to see duelling in canon.
Warning: There will be shipping. There will be combat. There will be references to songs on the soundtrack. There will be legend and fairytale allusions. There will be some innuendo. You have been warned.
Beneath her black bow, her cat ears twitched with discomfort. Blake had never liked rain. It was in her nature. With a shudder, she pulled her hood tighter around her face and walked on. Her swift ankle boots concentrically rippled the surface of the puddles that invaded the Vale's sidewalks. Her shoes would be all muddy when she came back to Team RWBY's room, and Weiss would be furious, as usual. Through the fabric of her dark coat's pocket, she instinctively clung to the hilt of Gambol Shroud. What was there to fear? Nothing. What Roman had said made perfect sense. What was she to fear? Everything. Everything that lived in darkness, within and without her. Everything ready to bark at her and those she loved most. After all, Roman Torchwick was a criminal, as dark and inconstant as the shadow of a candle. Should she trust him? No, clearly not. Could she trust him? Absolutely not, she tried to convince herself. Did she trust him? After the meeting half an hour ago in the Atlesian aircraft, she could hardly distinguish tales from the truth. Black and red was the uncertainty that descended upon her.
General Ironwood was a busy man. Blake was hardly surprised that he had no time to offer her a chair and sit down for a chat. So that she stood in his office, as he paced around diligently, his white coat as straight as a cliff behind his back. Roman would have paraded around her in his pale jacket in a very similar fashion had he been free to, she thought at the back of her mind. But Roman was in captivity, which was the very reason of her presence in Ironwood's airship.
"Miss Belladonna, you were the one who defeated Mr. Torchwick in the train beneath Mountain Glenn," he spoke, his icy tone interrupting her thoughts.
"Yes, sir."
"Also according to our prisoner, you and Torchwick were alone in the wagon where you faced him."
"Yes, sir."
"Did he tell you anything concerning his plans? Did he say anything betraying his collaborators' identities or location?"
His hand almost casually tapped his desk as he stood still. His dark blue gaze sank straight into her golden eyes. She was a Huntress being hunted, a black cat trapped by a white mouse.
'Do you really think a little bow on top is gonna make people forget what you were? What you've done?'
She shivered at the memory. She could not possibly reveal her Faunus identity and her past affiliation with the White Fang. The Atlesian man was a sworn enemy of the protest group that had drifted into terrorism. He would ask for plans. For places. For names. Adam… On the other hand, if she refused to collaborate, she feared he would suspect her and her teammates. After all, only Team RWBY and Professor Oobleck had been present in the Mountain Glenn tunnel as the exploding train wagons created openings for the Grimm that attacked the Vale. Blake would never allow the General and his men to doubt the good will of Ruby, Weiss and Yang. If she could not even protect them, there was no way she could assure her duty towards Remnant as a Huntress.
"He told me nothing, sir. There was no time. My teammate Weiss Schnee was in danger, so I knocked him out cold to run to her aid."
"Well, well. It seems like this was an easy fight for you. I am surprised the elusive Roman Torchwick was defeated so easily."
"Ice Q… Miss Schnee and I had been working on a multi-action dust cartridge for my weapon recently, greatly improving its power in the way it amplifies my Semblance since the last time I faced Torchwick. Amplified by the effect of surprise, that gave me a strong advantage."
Obliviously he adjusted the knot of his impeccable red tie, his eyes still staring straight at her, digging into the darkness of her mind and her irises. She was alone in the gray light, hovering high above ground aboard Ironwood's vessel, its bay window open towards the streets of Vale filled with rainy semi-obscurity. She was alone, without her friends, without copies of herself to help her run away, without shadows to hide in.
"Is that all, Miss Belladonna? Anything you would like to add?"
"No, General."
"You are a Huntress in training at Beacon Academy. You have vowed to protect the Vale and the world of Remnant and shine light against the dark masked creatures that roam in the shadow. I am confident that if there is anything more, or if you realised you have forgotten to mention anything, you will come straight back to me and tell me."
"I will, General."
He could not have been more threateningly evasive as to whether he was referring to the Grimm or the White Fang. So Ironwood wanted her to come see him. Not Ozpin, not Goodwitch, but him in person, outside the safe haven of her Academy. Something was wrong between Beacon and the Atlesian military, she realised. All was far from transparent between Ozpin and Ironwood, and secrets were gathering like storm clouds overhead.
"Good, Miss Belladonna. I believe that someone wants to see you."
Blake blinked in surprise. See her? Fear and excitement filled her with tingles all at once, from the tip of her cat ears to her toes inside her dark violet tights. Her nails bit the inside of her palms as sharp as claws. Her hair stood on end against her slightly curved spine like that of a distressed feline. Was it… could it be? She wanted to escape, leaving but a semblance of herself behind to meet whoever it was. She wanted to stay, to be everywhere at one time, to see those eyes once again…
A single emerald eye looked up at her from the cell door that opened from behind the wall. The other one was concealed by a fashionable orange fringe. Of course it was Roman. What did she expect? A mixed wave of relief and disappointment washed over her mind, but the frenetic pounding of her heart refused to slow down. Even incarcerated, he still looked as disgustingly elegant as usual. His hat rested daintily atop his fiery hair. His white coat looked dapper on his slender figure. The cuffs around his hands had the shine characteristic to Earth Dust. Obviously, his Melodic Cudgel was nowhere to be seen.
"Kitty kitty, look at who we have here."
The dulcet tones of his words were just as confident and mocking as ever.
"What do you want?" she spoke evenly, trying to conceal the restlessness in her voice.
"I could ask you the same thing."
"It is none of your business," she snarled back.
He gave a smile, uncovering a row of perfect white teeth. The blankness of his green gaze rendered his grin almost sad, as if a melancholy had devoured his conceited being from the inside, leaving a courteous mechanical puppet pulled by strings.
"My loyalty lies with the safety of Remnant," she added precipitately, towards the General who hardly seemed to react.
"Oh, really."
She wanted to take her eyes off him. He that sat imprisoned, under the hard gaze of his captor. He that had bought her people like slaves to satisfy his personal dark desires. She could not take her eyes off him.
"Torchwick. Why did you ask to see me?"
"Who would not ask to see such a pretty face."
It hardly sounded like a question. There was something broken in that theatrical show he always pulled off. A point of uncertainty? Of regret? Did someone else pull the strings? Was he a mere pawn from a queen preparing her armies in the dead of night?
"So I can leave now."
"You're not the one in a cell."
That was true. He was a prisoner. She had effectively put him there. She was free to do whatever she desired. She could just run away again, just fly away into the obscurity. In any case, she would land on her feet. But her legs were firmly anchored into the floor, straight and slightly open, refusing to budge. What was that game he was playing with her? Who was the cat, and who was the mouse? Who was the beast, and who was the beauty?
"So why don't you leave?" said his velvety voice.
She stared at him, perfectly immobile, ready to pounce at her prey.
"I will tell you why you don't leave. You say that I am evil and you are good. But you descend from shadows, and I rise with the flame. The light cannot exist without the darkness, Blake, and you are nothing without me."
She knew his metaphorical speech was a decoy to confuse the General, while he spoke directly to her mind. What was he to her people? Was he the captor of the Faunus, or their liberator and great defender? Was he the fire of destruction or the beacon of hope? She would give anything to read the mysteries in that eye beneath his ginger hair. Oh, curiosity would eventually kill the cat.
"Nonsense," she said mechanically, and she could almost believe herself.
"Then why do you think they gave me those Earth cuffs? Because they fear I'll flicker away."
Flicker? He was always so prompt at escaping. She wondered if that had anything to do with his Semblance. That was always handy information, even though Ironwood seemed to have that figured out already.
"Kitty. You know it very well, without me you are nothing. What now?" he repeated morosely.
And what now indeed. She had fought for justice and against corruption all her life. Now that Roman Torchwick was in prison, she had no visible enemy to fight. Without the flame she could not see what hid amongst the dark clouds. Without the torch there was no shadow for her to recoil into. She had to fight her battle. She had to prepare for her finest hour. But when would it be, and where whom would she fight against?
"Do you really think I will tell you my plans?" she simply sneered.
"The kitty cat is afraid of the coming storm. You'll have to get wet, eventually. The lightning always strikes at the highest peak, at the highest step, and then everything will run wild."
Somewhere in her brain she hoped that the General had picked up nothing from that kitty allusion. Vaguely she wondered why he had not blown up her cover, whether he was trying to protect her. Surely he must have had a part in his strategy for her to play. But Ironwood, the pawns and the queens were far away from her mind, as if the only remnant of her world carried Roman and herself, orbiting each other on a clockwork mechanism, and the rest of the universe was empty. With a blink of her golden pupils, Blake walked away past the general, decisively looking at her feet, leaving nothing behind but her shadow.
Blake Belladonna gratefully wiped her boots onto the grass before the Academy. The high spires of the building grimly stood in the heavy rain, dark against the gray backdrop. The highest point. The highest step. Of course, the tournament. It did made sense. All of the Vale and the Hunter Academies would attend the final, an ideal time for their opponents to strike. After the Grimm debacle in twon centre that started their semester with a bang – or with a Yang, whatever – it would take them time to plan a new attack. Such that while their enemies gathered, all they could do was to prepare. Why had he chosen to let her know? Why had Roman Torchwick made sure they would be ready for their attack? Which side was he on, and which side was hers?
Oh, Blake truly resented that tense humidity floating in the air that announced the coming tempest.
The giant blade of Crescent Rose sank into the chill hard floor, sending the autumn leaves flying away around them. Weiss expertly slid down the barrel of the fully extended weapon, her rapier slicing the air at a speed defying persistence of vision. Heaving herself onto the handle of the scythe, her opponent swung herself around, sending her powerful black boots towards the Schnee Dust heiress. Kicked under her feet, forcing her to jump off. Spun herself in a full circle against the body her weapon. Acrobatically sprang to avoid the silver glyph beneath her. Landed with both feet steadily balanced on Crescent Rose. Staggered back as the needle-sharp point of Myrtenaster struck the metal cross on her shoulder.
Ruby suppressed a curse. Why on Remnant had she accepted to duel the Ice Queen? Granted, Weiss was supposed to be her partner. Granted, they were training for the tournament. But still, she was ridiculously annoyed. If her sniper scythe gave Ruby a clear advantage as a Grimm reaper, the heiress's experience at duelling colossal robotic suits of armour and her elegant technique with her rapier and glyphs made her impossible to even catch. Such that when she could have been building a retraction mechanism with reduced friction for her sweetheart weapon or even baking chocolate chip cookies with Jaune Arc, she was stuck there watching Weiss flutter around in her disgustingly impeccable white battle skirt on her Dust-generated snowflakes, against the excessively beautiful scenery of the autumnal gardens of Beacon.
Ruby managed to reach a button on the side of her hybrid weapon, making it switch to its rifle mode in a dangerous succession of perfectly imbricated sliding parts. Weiss flew backwards, rebounding against a precipitant glyph. Her ponytail wildly oscillated before the slender nape of her neck, as white as snow. Rapidly, the dark-haired girl fired a series of bullets, which her partner blocked off with circular strokes of Myrtenaster. Before Weiss had time to ready her stance again, Ruby propelled herself with the recoil of her arm towards her. Developing mid-jump, Crescent Rose's blade slid against the thin rapier with a metallic clang. Backing down, the heiress spun the Dust chamber of her weapon to project an alignment of glyph as black as a raven's wing. Interacting with Ruby's shots, they cast an ice flower at the bottom of her cape, suddenly impeding the lethal swings of her giant scythe. She jumped straight into the air, her small figure flying past the rising shattered moon, and shot off the ridiculously pretty white rose of ice mid-backflip. As she elastically landed, she saw her opponent as graceful as ever, holding Myrtenaster with both hands, the blade horizontal before her face.
She had yet to see how the trained white duellist reacted to improvisation. She jumped forwards, both hands heaving Crescent Rose behind her head, but sank the sharp tip of the blade into the ground at the last split second, rotating around it at full speed to send the scarlet fabric of her cape flying into the heiress's eyes. Weiss stumbled backwards, planting her blade in extremis into the dirt to create protective ice petals all around her. Ah, so that was it. The snow princess was locking herself up in an ice castle, and of course it had to be as delicately beautiful and tough as she was.
Propelling herself backwards through the branches to accumulate acceleration, she ran towards Weiss, so fast she was hardly more than a blur. Their Semblances violently collided, sparking golden flames that devoured the defensive ice envelope. Flipping the Dust type of her rapier once more, Weiss gracefully set its tip to dance into the air, generating a layer of ice that covered the floor. Sliding off in her full speed run, Ruby painfully collided hit a nearby tree.
Ah, and she was low on Aura. Great. Activating a small silver halo over the surface of her skin, she mended her scratches and broken nose. Already, the Ice Queen was flying at her, collecting speed against a succession of her pretty glyphs. Within a fraction of a second, Weiss was too close for the blade of the scythe to be of any use. The silver-eyed girl saw the deadly point of Myrtenaster rushing towards her throat with that annoyingly refined elegance. A gust of wind lifted her snow-white hair and swirled the rose-red leaves around them.
Wind. Of course, why had she not thought of that? Stupid, stupid Ruby. Collapsing Crescent Rose to its most compact storage form, she held it up as a shield to block the sword tip. And then she ran.
She ran straight ahead. For it made no difference in which direction. She ran until her speed lifted her off the ground. Until her red cape was but an aerodynamic envelope wrapped against her. Until she was a horizontal cyclone scarlet as blood, sending gold and orange leaves, dark twigs of all sizes, tree branches and white warrior flying in a mad vortex of spinning air.
As she stopped, the winds calmed down, revealing the crimson dead leaves plastered against brown tree barks along with her pale partner, motionless. Finally she held the Ice Queen in defeat, finding a way to avoid the impossible feat of catching her. She knew that level of her Semblance she had figured out during an infamous food fight would become handy.
Her satisfaction was short-lived as she saw Weiss seemingly unconscious amongst the branches. Obliquely slicing off the whole tree, Ruby caught her partner into her arms. Her svelte form almost felt light compared to Crescent Rose's weight. Her silver hair dangled softly against Ruby's arm, as if snowflakes gently tickled her. Her arm, still clutching the hilt of Myrtenaster, hung limp towards the floor. Her perfect ivory skin propagated worryingly cold tingles through Ruby's fingers.
"Weiss, don't leave me!" the dark-haired Huntress wailed, trying to shake her awake.
Her silver eyelashes fluttered, as delicate as winter butterflies. Relief immediately painted onto Ruby's traits as she saw the azure gaze looking up at her. As she lost her silver eyes into Weiss's ice blue ones, drowning into lakes mirroring the cloudless sky. As she felt the other girl's ivory-pale fingers obliviously wrap against her wrist, as if never to leave her again, as if never lonely again. Somewhere deep inside her mind she decided she would not dislike that fleeting instant to last forever, like a patch of everlasting snow never melted away.
Then the white-haired student realised where she was, shot her partner a deadly look and spurted out:
"You moron! You have to contain the Dust of Crescent Rose! You can't just go around uncontrolled flames and explosions like that. And do you even have any idea how difficult it was for me to get you that diameter of Dust sintered microcrystals, you dunce?"
Even with the help of her Semblance, the small scythe-wielder found it incredibly difficult to rapidly put on an offended expression. Ah, there would be a point where the ice breaks…
So yeah, I hope you liked it. I tried to have a cheeky guess at Torchwick's Semblance. The fighting techniques and Semblance usages are mostly taken from or extrapolated from canon, the way I think they work, plus possible improvements they made to their weapons in the meantime such as the glyphs with repelling 'mirror effect' that shoot Dust bullets backwards from where they came, allowing Weiss to use Ice Flower against Ruby. I also toyed a bit with their respective origin myths and fairytales... Feel free to complain in the comments. Also suggest a good name for the BlakexRoman pairing if you have one, I'm okay with Black Torch or Clockwork Kitty but none of these are great. Yang and Weiss PoV in the next and presumably final chapter. Until then, please read and review, follow and fav', constructively comment. Thanks xx