a/n: (#justteacherthings) from a prompt given to me by a friend. remember to check out my ao3 under this name for more fics that I don't upload here!
Beacon's gardens were incredibly quiet at this late hour; the only sounds to be heard were Glynda's careful footsteps down the darkened path and the wind gently rustling through the foliage around her. For all it's worth the moon hung low in the cloudless sky, illuminating the school grounds much more clearly than usual.
Glynda supposed she could have considered the timing of it all lucky, if the circumstances had been any better. Qrow had returned late that afternoon with a comatose maiden in his arms and the rest of their day had quickly dissolved into frantically searching for a solution. For the moment Amber was stable- despite the fact that she had yet to wake- and all of them were taking some much needed time to clear their heads. School was still out for a few more weeks, giving them time that they desperately needed to sort out this mess.
Ozpin's office had felt suffocating after tedious hours spent looking for information that was nowhere to be found. Between his nearly infuriating calm at this whole situation and Qrow's feigned belligerence- despite the fact he was actually blaming himself for this- her patience was dangerously thin. Ironwood's accusatory remarks at all of them over video call was the last thing she wanted to deal with until she had some time to cool her temper.
She finally came to a halt in front of the familiar oak at the back of the gardens and craned her head back to look up at its full, leafy branches. A faint ghost of a smile crossed her features as she slid her fingers over its gnarled bark, feeling for the seam where she had so painstakingly mended it back together years before. It was a comfort now, a reminder… one she had unknowingly needed tonight.
The sound of soft, stilted footsteps met her ears after a few minutes, stirring her from her reverie. Slowly she stepped back from the tree, turning to watch as Ozpin limped down the pathway towards her. In the dark he looked even more tired- his posture was horrendous for once- and she felt a soft stab of regret for leaving him alone to deal with the other two when he so clearly needed a minute to breathe more than any of them. Despite his calm demeanor she knew his mind had already raced through a dozen ideas and outcomes, weighing which were worth pursuing and which could not possibly work for them.
"I thought I might find you here," he said as he drew closer, "Especially after the night we've had."
Glynda let out a flat, humorless sound but allowed him to take her hand when he reached for it. She threaded their fingers together and gave his a gentle squeeze, offering a tired half-smile in response.
"I'm sorry, Oz," she replied after a moment, shoulders slumping, "I just needed some air."
Ozpin only hummed in response and leaned against her, taking a moment to press a chaste kiss to her cheek.
"I know, dear." He tilted his head back to look at the looming branches above them. For a long while he was silent, but if he were contemplating their situation or simply counting the stars Glynda couldn't tell.
She waited for him to come around with something else to say, instead reaching with her semblance to pluck a single acorn from the oak and drop it neatly into her palm. It was such a tiny thing- and utterly plain, she noted- and yet one had once sprouted and grown into the massive tree beside her. Glynda rolled it between her fingers, using the movement to distract her mind.
"I feel like I failed her," she whispered suddenly, closing the acorn in her fist and turning back to Ozpin, "All of that time at Beacon and-"
"You couldn't have prepared her for this," he cut in, nearly starling her when he spoke so soon, "I don't think either of us could have, Glynda. Amber understood the risks when she took on the fall maiden's powers, but all of the training in Remnant couldn't have saved her from that ambush."
He stilled quite suddenly, falling into an uneasy quiet. The outburst had been unexpected and when Glynda took a half step closer she could see the dark circles under his eyes even in the dim moonlight. It occurred to her quite suddenly that he must have been blaming himself for Amber's fate just as much as she was right now.
"You let her choose her own destiny, Ozpin," Glynda said quietly after a moment, "You always do."
"She shouldn't have had to." His tone was somber as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "None of them should have had to."
Nothing else could say what went unspoken between them; over the years the loss of a maiden had not gotten any easier. The greater good, they had continued to say, we work from the shadows for the greater good. It hardly felt that way when huntresses that were nowhere near their prime lost their lives because of a feud they could not even understand.
"If we head home, we have time to catch a few hour's sleep." Ozpin's voice stirred her from her thoughts, and when she looked back to him his gaze was tilted back to the sky again. "Exhaustion is hardly going to help us."
"Lead the way," she replied at length, tucking the acorn she still held into her pocket before sliding her arm through his.
A breeze picked up as they slowly wound their way out of the gardens, stirring the leaves above them with the faintest rustle. Glynda shivered, a chill crawling down the nape of her neck. Somehow she doubted a solution would come easily to them this time around… and with half of Amber's power loose and out of their reach she did not want to think of the alternative.
Beside her, Ozpin began to hum a soft, lilting tune.