Welcome everyone to Haven - Enemies at the Wall. And before you ask, and think both name changes are for the best. It's going to be a long ride, and I'm not even finished writing, which is kind of a risk, but I feel like I can do it. I'm nine chapters in, so if I keep writing and posting a chapter every week, this is definitely going to last until the new volume of RWBY comes out. But yeah, sit back, relax and watch as Mistral prepares to face their greatest enemy-fear.

On a quick note, I have nothing to do with Rooster Teeth other than being an audience member as they make some great and not-so-great content (it happens to everyone). None of the characters you've seen in the show are mine, and I don't have a copyright on Haven either, so let's just call this a fan-fiction. Have fun!


Storm walked into the park, feeling blue. It was a cold autumn day, and it almost looked like it was going to rain. He asked for directions from a passerby to the statue, and he pointed him the right way. He stood before the statue, and stared at it.

He had known the person that this statue was dedicated to. It was a pretty good likeness of her too, though she seemed a little too muscular almost. Then again, he hadn't talked to her much in recent months, and now he never would again. He read the plaque at the base, which read: In memoriam of Pyrrha Nikos. She was a warrior greater than any other, and she will be missed.

He had trouble believing she was dead. She'd died during the Grimm invasion in Vale. They hadn't found a body, just her headdress, but from the account of one, she was dead—killed by some crazy woman. She was dead alright, and it was depressing.

While he hadn't gotten to know her very well, he still felt something at her death. He'd never lost anyone before; never known someone who died. Well, except maybe a cat, but he wasn't sure if that counted towards this. He felt an emptiness that just… he wasn't sure how to cope with.

Back at Sanctum, he, Rayne, and Patricia all had gotten along well. Pyrrha had been more of an outside to the group, he thought, being even less sure than either him or Rayne on how to integrate themselves into the group. In the end, only Storm and Rayne had actually gone to Haven, and Pyrrha went to Beacon for reasons unknown to him—Patricia didn't even go to a combat school, and instead went to pursue her art. He had always wondered about Pyrrha, but it was too late now.

As a cold wind blew in, a chill crept through him, and he zipped up his jacket. He'd thought that his sweater and hoodie were warm enough, but as it turned out, winter was coming earlier this year. But maybe he had just gotten used to the warm climate of Vale. In either case, it was cold, and while he wanted to go inside somewhere, he felt like staying a little while longer.

A series of footsteps coming from behind him made him turn his head. Walking up with her eyes pointed to her feet, and a case about four feet long in the crook of her arm, an old friend in mourning black neared. Patricia Saint: artist, former classmate, and friend. She seemed not to notice him as she neared.

"Hello, Patricia," he said. He was careful not to use the nickname "Pat" as she absolutely hated that name, along with "Patty". In fact, she hated nicknames altogether.
Patricia's gaze shot up, and her red hair moved with it. She'd let it grow out since he'd last seen her, and he had to say, it did look nice. She almost made a smile when she saw him. "Hey, Storm," she said, her voice horse, possibly from sobbing.

"Hear to visit…" He gestured to the statue.

She nodded. "I have something for her." Patricia knelt before the statue. She put the case down and opened, revealing a sword that was a perfect replica of Pyrrha's sword. There weren't any variations that he could spot. He found it slightly odd, because Patricia had never liked how the shades of red and yellow clashed to her eyes. She placed the sword at the statue's feet with outmost care.

When Patricia continued to stay knelt before the statue, Storm wasn't sure what to do. He put his hand on her shoulder carefully, so as to show his support. She didn't mind it, and was even comforted by it. After a while, she stood up, and Storm took his hand away.

"So," Patricia said, turning to him, her face with a trace of a tear on it, "want to get coffee?"

"Well, you know I don't drink coffee," Storm said quickly—maybe a little too quickly. "But I can drink hot chocolate."

"Okay, let's go." Patricia left the sword behind as they walked through the park back to the city.

He was glad to be back in his hometown rather than Vale. Vale was hot, humid, and even in autumn it was a terrible place to be. Mistral he was used to. Mistral was nicely cool, though near brutally hot in summer, and very cold at the start of winter. Still, it was nice to be back.

The two of them went to a nearby coffee shop, and after they got their drinks, sat down at a table near the window. After each of them took the lid off their drink to let them cool a little, Patricia said intently, "So, what have you been up to?"

"Well, did you see me in the tournament?" he said painfully.

"Yeah."

"Then you know how bad it was."

Patricia laughed. "No, you were close. When that blue haired girl, um, what's her name…?"

"Azura."

Patricia snapped her fingers. "Azura. When Azura started shooting up that team, I thought she was unstoppable."

"Yeah, but we still lost." Sneak attacks couldn't get her, but even she couldn't fight that really big guy, not matter how big a target he was.

"Yeah, I guess you did. But still, you're the leader of your own team. You didn't write me that."

"That's because I didn't write you at all."

Patricia nodded in an amused fashion. "Tell me about them—your team."

"Well, going in order, there's Azura. She's straightforward, introverted, and the best shot I've ever seen—straight and trick shots. Then there's Faye…" He trailed off as he thought about her.

"Remnant to Storm, come in, Storm," Patricia said, snapping her fingers.

"Anyway, yeah. Faye is the white haired one."

"I guessed that, since I'm pretty sure that's not a guy name. Her hair looked weird though. Is she a Faunus?"

He nodded. "She's a gyrfalcon Faunus, and she has feathers in her hair. I'm still not sure what that is." Patricia chuckled. Despite that, he continued. "Faye is a bit of a mystery to me. Every time I start to think I understand her, I see a glimpse of another side of her."

"Yeah, she's an odd one."

"We're dating." He wasn't sure why he said that, but he just blurted it out.

Patricia looked surprised. "Three years at Sanctum and you never flirted with anyone. Now you're dating?"

"Well, yeah."

"If you grow anymore, I'm outa here."

"Don't worry; I'm fine," he said, trying to avert any ideas she had.

She nodded. "Well, the hormones finally got to you, Storm."

"I guess so." He felt odd finally having someone he might call a girlfriend.

"Well, how did the first date go?" Patricia said. "Tell me all about it."

"I can't."

"Why?"

He put the lid back on his cup, as he judged it had cooled off enough, and said, "Because we haven't gone on it yet."

Patricia's eyes grew wide as he took a drink of hot chocolate. It was warm, but not too hot. "You haven't gone yet?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, we haven't decided on what to do yet."

"Then how are you dating?"

"We decided to start dating, so… Neither of us really know what we're doing."

"You certainly don't," she mumbled. He gave her a questioning look. "In eighteen years, I've dated three different guys, and you need some advice."

"And I guess you have experience with this," Storm replied hostilely.

"I'm not saying that. I'm saying you need advice from someone who actually has some experience with what women like."

"What, like Rusti?"

She cocked her head. "Who's Rusti?"

Realizing his mistake, he moved to correct that. "Rusti is the R in SAFR. He's a ladies' man, and a pain for me to deal with. He might have some advice." While he didn't feel like taking advice from Rusti, it was only for the sake of conversation.

"Well, maybe. How exactly is he a ladies' man?"

"In the time I've known him he's had three girlfriends, and didn't keep any of them for long."

"Maybe you should go for original work."

"Good." He then thought of a joke. "Then maybe she won't kill me." Patricia didn't laugh one bit. Obviously the wrong crowd.


Yes Patricia is based of Saint Patrick, thank you for noticing.