The Duke rarely dealt with criminals personally. It was a special case as the Duke's Captain of the Guard marched solemnly, hands grasping a chain that bound the prisoner's hands in cuffs. A second chain was bound to the Captain's waist which snaked across the ground to a clamp on the prisoner's neck. It bit into her skin. She had been stripped of her armor and was left in only a dark cloak, which was wrapped tightly around her. The Captain's lightweight plate armor clanked softly as he stopped before the duke's throne.
"Blake Belladonna."
The prisoner nodded, eyes downcast.
"Faunus. Huntress. And now, thief. What do you have to say for yourself?"
The Duke's voice was quiet, but it rumbled in Blake's ears.
The prisoner remained quiet. The Captain tapped the prisoner lightly on the back. He whispered into her ear:
"The Duke will treat you fairly. Say your part."
Blake's head did not move.
"It was for my friend."
"Speak up." The Captain whispered.
"I needed the medicine for my friend."
"I need the medicine for my men. What makes you special?"
"I'm a thief."
The Duke threw back his head and laughed, dark hair flying over his shoulder.
"Well I'd say that is a bit of a special trait," The prisoner was meeting the Duke's eyes now, some hope blossoming in them. "But a crime is a crime. Captain, take her to one of the guest rooms. She'll remain there until the safety of the tournament-goers can be ensured. Then she may be released."
The Duke stood and watched as the prisoner was marched out of the great hall and into the guest wing. As the Captain rounded the corner, Duke Lie Ren slouched back onto his throne, shoulders slumped.
"Dear, they'll think you've gone soft."
The Duke's advisor emerged from the chambers behind the throne. Her dress was a simple red, as usual, lacking any jewelry and with only small lace patterns on the sleeves.
"What would you have me do?" He sighed.
"At least use the dungeon. We could spruce it up. No one would have to know that it's actually nice down there."
She stepped around the throne and put her hand on Duke Ren's cheek, meeting his pink eyes with her green.
"I want to help."
"Oh Pyrrha..." The Duke pushed her hand away and stood, brushing off the green uniform and flower insignia that denoted his social standing. "I only wish there was any help you could give."
"I can help you! Please, just cancel this silly tournament. There's a war going on out there Ren."
"Cancelling the tournament would throw the public into a panic. That's the last thing we need right now."
"Better a panic than a massacre."
The Duke glared at his advisor. She held under his stare. Ren dropped his head.
"The tournament will go on. I'll message the other Duchies for security.
"Which ones?" She scoffed. "We can hardly ask the Southern kingdoms with their horrible manners. The East is shut off until the trade ports are re-opened. The West, well; You know how stiff they are about their honor."
"Then we ask the North."
"Now you haven't gone soft, you've gone completely insane."
"The North will send troops."
"The North will send troops, and royalty, and taxes, and war."
"Send a pigeon, Pyrrha."
The advisor sighed, knowing the Duke's choice was one that needed to be made. She retreated to her chamber and slowly wrote a letter.
Duke in the North,
As you know, the springtime tournament is nearly upon us and…
It was late in the evening when she finished. Pyrrha rolled up the small scroll and sent the courier pigeon on it's way. Her mind began drifting as she lit her bedside candle. The Duke is so strong-willed… She thought. Nothing like that minstrel…
The Captain of the Guard, Mercury Black, had led Blake to her new chambers in the guest room wing of Castle Ren.
"Here's your new room." The Captain smiled brightly down at Blake. She glared back.
The Captain chuckled and reached back, scratching his head.
"Look I know this isn't ideal for you. You'll be set free in a matter of days. Just… Just please play along. The Duke needs to make his fief look secure for when the king arrives."
"I'm not interested in your politics." Blake said, practically spitting the word.
"Politics are what supply our storehouse with medicine."
"And hard working peasants are what put them there."
"You ought to treat the person who holds your life in his hands with more respect." Mercury waved a hand over Blake's cuffs and they came free. A magician's trick… She thought to herself. He reached up and unclasped the band around her neck. Her skin was scratched and bloody underneath.
"Here, this'll help with that." Mercury pulled a small leaf from one of the pockets in his belt and crushed it between his fingers. He reached towards Blake's neck, but she quickly pulled away and hid her face in the hood of her cloak.
"I… I'll apply it myself!" She stuttered, grabbing the remaining leaves from Mercury's pack and disappearing into her cell.
"New clothes are in the wardrobe!" Mercury yelled through the door. He smirked as he walked back through the halls. What a catch she is. He thought to himself. Never had myself a faunus before…
Blake looked around her new home for the coming days. The room was spacious, and most of the hard stone floor was covered with green and pink carpets, a blessing on her bare feet. A bed occupied the far wall of the room, already made and covered with white and pink sheets. Just above the bed was a window out on the enormous swath of land were preparations for the tournament festival were being set up. She could hear the clamouring of the people outside, some selling food to the workers, some, the craftsmen, arguing about the best way to set up the jousting stands or temporary stables.
She could also see an enormous wardrobe, dark wood against the green backdrop of hanging curtains strung about the room. She opened it up and was horrified to find nothing but black, royal-looking dresses inside. Blake held the cloak tighter around herself and climbed into the bed holding her knees up to her chin. Oh, Sunlit Knight… She grimaced. I want to help. Staring at the door to her cell, tears welled up in Blake's eyes. Please don't die. I'll be there soon.
"Your Grace, a note from the Midwestern Fief." The northern advisor, James Ironwood bowed as he handed Duke Ren's note to Lord Schnee, Duke of the Mountain Keep.
"They wish my men. My army, for their tournament."
"We already have champions going down to fight for the reward, we may as well send some security with them."
Schnee placed his hand on his chin. "Then we wouldn't reveal Duke Ren's weakness, nor show bias to any of the kingdoms."
The advisor raised his eyebrow.
"Send the royal guard… And my daughters."
"The princesses, sir?"
"It'll be good to make my champions think they're fighting for something."
Ironwood hesitated. "Ye… Yes sir." He turned on his heel and exited the throne room. He quickly made his way to the courtyard where the princesses would be studying. His dark robe, crested with the snowflake symbol of his Duke, fluttered around his feet as he walked. The air was wet with evaporated snow. Upon entering the courtyard, James' breath caught in his throat. He could not tell if it was the beauty of the courtyard or the beauty of what it contained. The yard was filled with white cobbled walkways flanked by pink-blossoming cherry trees. In the center stood a small glass table, and two princesses sat pouring over an enormous book.
James cleared his throat. "Ladies." He bowed to one knee, heart pounding.
Winter Schnee, older of the two princesses, stood. Her ornate silver jewelry sparkled as the sun caught it. Her dress was for fencing practice, plain white, and cut to the thigh. "Rise, Ironwood." She raised her eyebrow; it was rare to see her father's advisor anywhere besides the strategy table.
"Lady Winter, your father has requested that you and your sister attend the tournament in the Midwestern Fief."
The princess's cold eyes stared him down. He gulped.
"Very well. When do we depart?"
"The day after the morrow."
Winter turned to look at her sister. "How does that sit with you, Weiss?" The younger princess nodded.
"Thank you for the report Ironwood. You may return to my father."
Winter sat, and Ironwood turned to leave. She never did like me very much. He thought sadly.