Disclaimer: RWBY is not owned by me. It is owned by Rooster Teeth. This fan-fiction is not for profit.
Warnings: This fiction will be rated T for bad language, fantasy violence, and dark themes.
Author's Notes: This is the second Requiem Chapter. The next two chapters are very dark and heavy.
IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THE SUBJECT OF SUICIDE AND CHILD ABUSE, PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION.
Requiem for Remnant
Chapter 10: Requiem for Qrow
The trip to Qrow Branwen's manor was morbidly quiet, aside from the squeaky wheel on Ruby's little red wagon. Qrow gripped the handle of the wagon and pulled it down the dirt road. Little blonde Yang Xiao Long was nearly sprinting to keep up with the tall man's long strides. Gravel crunched underneath her tiny shoes as she ran alongside the wagon. Turning her pigtailed head, the six-year-old looked inside and watched her baby sister sleeping in the wagon bed. The petite girl was curled up in a ball, draped in a little red riding hood. One of the backpacks the girls had packed was being used as a pillow to rest her head. The other pack was trapped in her minute arms, as if it were a teddy bear. She unconsciously clung to the backpack like it was a life preserver.
Wooden arms stretched overhead from obsidian trees. A cold chill hung in the air, as if trapped by the clutching branches. Low hanging appendages reached toward the hiking trio. Qrow lifted up a black leather glove and gripped branch. With a twist, the branch broke like dry bones. Then the scythe-wielder tossed the twigs over his shoulder, over his niece's wagon. The kindling scattered across the path behind him. He would repeat this same action every twenty meters along the trail. Later in her life, Yang would learn that this act was used to determine if you were being followed on a narrow road.
Amethyst eyes watched the man as he shrugging his shoulders. The ebony-clad Huntsman shifted the length of Dicter Tawel diagonally across his back. The stem of the scythe was as black as midnight; the wicked blade was decorated with a feathery pattern. Aside from the head, the stygian scythe was concealed underneath a woefully threadbare gray cloak. Yang wondered if the cloak used to be any other color before time and combat had weathered it to tatters. Dusky boots crushed brown dry leaves beneath his heel.
His single crimson eye stared up the shadowy path, darting back and forth, searching the ink-stained horizon for any danger. The forest crowded around, cutting line of sight. Qrow's eye scythed through the crevices between the trees. Yang twisted her head to look behind her. The darkness of the night reclaimed the path following them. She stared at the pitch blackness, her heart pounding and her hands sweaty. As her eyes adjusted, she thought she saw—
Qrow's hand landed on her shoulder. She turned away from the watching abyss and looked up at him. He shook his raven crown slowly, telling her not to look. The darkness plays tricks on you, convinces you of danger that may not be present. Then he lifted his left hand and tapped the curved blade of Dicter Tawel. It sounded like metal drumming on metal. Do not be afraid, for I am here.
Yang nodded her head and grasped Qrow's right hand. The leather glove was warm. They continued to follow the trail, the vegetation growing closer to the road the deeper they traveled into the forest.
Road conditions began to deteriorate as Qrow's manor became closer. The rotted woods choked the life out of the air. Dry arms hung limply from dead trunks. Brittle hands curled into dying fists. It was as though the very presence of the house was an all consuming virus, long since having destroyed everything around it. The curse that ruined these acres sank into the soil. It was a certain fact that nothing would ever grow here again. Neither flora nor fauna could survive these blighted woods. Even the creatures of Grimm avoided this part of the woodlands.
Tonight would be the first time three people slept here in over twenty years.
A squeaky wheel struck a roadside stone. The wagon jostled and silver eyes popped open with a tiny cry. Ruby swung her arms out and freed herself from the blanket. She looked up and saw only bonelike branches, spearing toward the black sky as if clawing in anguish. Her ashen eyes soaked in the frightening sight. Then the sun rose over her face and smiled down at her with amethyst globes. Golden strands of sunlight cast over the sleepy child.
"Hey Rubbles, we're almost at Uncle Qrow's house." Yang spoke in a chipper voice. The four-year-old squeezed the backpack in her arms and tried to make sense of the world. Why did they have to leave Daddy behind? Why was Uncle Qrow mad at Daddy?
Ruby stretched her hand out past the wagon and grasped at Yang's hanging hand. The blonde sister obliged and wrapped her fingers around the reaching hand. So long as Yang was here, then Ruby wouldn't get too sad.
Sitting up in the wagon, Ruby looked up at Uncle Qrow. All she could see was his old grey cloak, his big scythe called Di-something Towel, and his left hand holding onto the handle of the wagon. His right hand was holding onto Yang's hand. Ruby wanted to hold Uncle Qrow's hand too, so she patted his left hand. He didn't even seem to notice her tiny hands as she slapped at the black leather. Then Ruby remembered that Uncle Qrow couldn't feel anything with his left hand. She sat back down in the wagon and leaned around, trying to look ahead past her uncle.
Up ahead, there was a clearing in the woods. It was about four square acres in size. A grey stone wall circled around the entire perimeter of the clearing. The wall was crumbling apart; whole sections of the barrier had fallen into rubble. In front of the trio was a massive black-iron gate. The iron was darker than obsidian and warped by the curse that held this land. On either side of the gate, twin basalt sculpture of ravens spread their black wings and shrieked forevermore at unwanted trespassers. As the three walked underneath their grotesque eyes, Ruby held Yang's hand tighter. Yang's other hand clutched harder on Qrow's right hand. Qrow squeezed the handle of the wagon with his left hand, the leather creaking.
They entered the clearing and the girls saw Uncle Qrow's house for the first time. It was three stories tall, with brittle dead vines crawling up the sides. The decaying walls were streaked with black moss. Neglect by the only surviving owner had stripped the walls of their former prosperity. They might have been a beautiful color once upon a time. All of the windows were covered up by drapes. Many of them were cracked or completely broken. The black rooftops were missing numerous patches of shingles. The walkway leading up to the house was lined with deceased trees; their ebony branches bore no leaves.
This was no place for any child to be raised.
A bitter smile briefly landed upon the sole inheritor's face. His singular eye glared at the decrepit house, as if willing it to collapse and bury all of its memories underneath the rubble. Then he turned his head and glanced at the girls following behind him. Little Yang shivered; she looked as though she were remembering something frightening. Littler Ruby's eyes were as wide as silver saucers, her tiny mouth opened fully as they approached cracked stone steps. When Qrow stopped at the bottom of the steps, Ruby positively leaped out of the wagon and stared up at the imposing goliath. It was a gothic monolith to the decay of a once wealthy family, now having only one remaining heir to the name. It was a testament to the bitter fate that was entropy.
"Uncle Qrow," the tiny girl's voice was uncharacteristically hushed, "is this your home?"
Nodding his head sourly, the tall slayer only said, "This is my house. I know it's a scary place, but you don't have to be afraid while—"
"It's so cool!" Ruby shrieked at the top of her lungs.
This was not the reaction that Qrow was expecting.
Cherub face practically glowing with enchantment, the petite girl raced up the stairs. Her little red riding hood bounced up and down as she climbed the crumbling steps. Her short black hair swirled around her head as she looked left and right, taking in all the scary sights. She stopped at the top of the steps and wildly gesticulated for her sister and uncle to follow. It was as though she had found a treasure trove. Qrow shook his raven head slowly at the energetic four-year-old. He had forgotten how she was completely immune to horror. After all, Ruby was always the first to greet her fearsome uncle.
From a child's perspective, the big house was full of untold mysteries, of secret rooms, of je ne sais quoi.
Glancing to his gloved right hand, the leather-clad Huntsman saw that his eldest niece was still holding on. The pigtailed girl shrunk away from the deteriorated mausoleum that loomed before her. Still clutching Qrow's hand, her amethyst eyes glistened and her lower lip trembled. Yang's free hand gripped a blonde pigtail and stuck it into her mouth, sucking on the strands without thinking. Her short legs were quaking unsteadily, knees knocking together.
With a mouth full of her own hair, Yang craned her neck to look up at her formidable uncle. She asked, "Are there spiders inside?"
The one-eyed bird shook his head. He reassured his niece with a soothing voice, "There is nothing living in that house."
Lilac eyes widened with alarm. "Then, what about ghosts?"
The single red eye cast a faraway stare at the house of his ancestors. His voice sounded weary, as if he were preparing to face unsavory in-laws. "The phantoms in these walls have no quarrel with you or your sister." This seemed to accomplish very little on the 'make Yang happy' front.
Trying again, Qrow clarified that, "The lingering shades of the past have no reason to be angry with you girls." Judging by Yang's upset expression; the monster slayer was not a very good babysitter.
Finally, "There is no such thing as ghosts."
Amethyst orbs narrowed at his singular cardinal eye. There was very little trust left in the six-year-old. Still, she walked forward and began to climb the weather-beaten stones. Qrow released her hand and watched as she made her way toward Ruby. Then he bent down and picked up the red wagon with both hands.
When the three of them were gathered on the veranda, Qrow fetched an iron ring out of a pocket. Numerous skeleton keys jangled from the black circlet. Ruby was nearly vibrating as she stood in front of the entryway. Yang wasn't quite sure why Qrow was bothering with keys. It looked as though the ebony wooden door would fall over if she so much as yanked on the curved handle. There were cracks inside the doorframe and the brass hinges were green. Little Ruby ran up to the door and tried to look closely through the cracks. One silver eye squeezed shut and the other peered into the darkness beyond.
A gnarled key was inserted into a chipped hole and the tumblers fell with a grinding clack. When Qrow pulled the front door open, the hinges protested with a deafening creak. It sounded as though the rotten wood was splintering even as the heavy door scraped along the floor. The noise echoed as it bounced through the interior of the house. The inside was an abyss as black as the starless sky. Everything just beyond the doorway was lost to the atramentous gloom. Qrow stepped into the pitch blackness, his dark attire concealing him almost instantly. For a moment, there was only a bloody eye bobbing in the umbrage.
Then, with a snap, a harsh yellow flare ignited. The darkness was cast back and revealed a narrow entry hall with a threadbare blackish carpet. Qrow stood inside, holding a burning lantern in his left hand. The light from the flame cast his gaunt features in harsher contrast. His hollow cheeks nearly became empty holes and his sunken eye sockets were black caves. The red of his right eye was visible even in the cavernous puncture. The lantern glow reflected off the stygian steel of Dicter Tawel. The sight of the deathlike reaper would have sent any of the other village girls screaming into the night.
Instead, the sisters appreciated Qrow's presence as he welcomed them into his house.
As the trio trode through the belly of the manor, the wooden floorboards creaked beneath their feet. Qrow found two bronze candlesticks and lit their wicks. Then he handed them to his nieces and told them not to run through the house. If they ran too quickly, then the tiny flames would be snuffed and they would be lost to the darkness. Then he gave them the task of lighting every candlestick on the walls and on every table. He followed behind the girls as they explored the house, room by room. Whenever there was a candle too high for them to reach, their uncle would light it for them. Ruby tackled the chore with gusto, the silver-eyed bursting with excitement as she entered each room. She would inevitably run from candle to candle, accidentally snuffing out her own timid light time and time again. Yang never let Ruby out of her sight, but her amethyst eyes were watching out for any sudden movements or ancient angry ancestral in-laws. Every time a wind drifted in through a cracked window, the low moaning would send the elder sister simpering. Each room they exited was left illuminated by candlelight.
Tiny feet pattering on the floorboards as the red-cloaked child raced down a hallway. The sound was something that Qrow had thought would never grace these halls again. She nearly left her uncle's sight as she bowled into the lounge. The interior of this room was furnished with a bonging grandfather clock, a dust-coated couch, two moth eaten throne chairs facing each other, a mahogany coffee table between the royal seats, and a grand fireplace. The centerpiece was the table, with furniture on each side and the fireplace close enough to warm the guests. Yang noticed that there were two porcelain tea cups on the table, sitting just in front of each throne chair.
One cup was coated in dust.
There were no candles in this room. As the girls watched, Qrow approached the fireplace and opened a compartment just to the side. He retrieved a bundle of freshly cut logs and tossed them inside the hearth. Within moments, the dry wood was set ablaze and the entire room was filled with flickering amber light. The furniture cast deep shadows into the corners of the room. Ruby's colorless eyes reflected the glowing sparks that leaped into the air. The warmth soaked into her bones. The chime of the grandfather clock filled her ears. Her eyelids began to flutter. Qrow opened the chute and watched as smoke rose out of the rooftop chimney for the first time in ages.
The last room the girls found was the child bedroom. They stood in the narrow hall, just outside the closed door. There was a heavy lock on the door, broken by blunt force trauma. For a moment, the cadaverous slayer was as still as black granite. His scarlet eye was fixated upon the ecru door, as if in a trance. Breaths were short and shallow, nostrils flaring ever so slightly. Lips were pursed tight enough to turn them white. His right hand twitched and brushed his right cheek. He hadn't even realized that he was holding his own face. Qrow shook his wasted body one time, breaking free from the clutches of ghosts past.
The door handle turned with difficulty. Age had rusted the cold metal. With a firm twist, the door handle gave. A chattering creak echoed down the dimly lit hallway. The door swung outward, causing Qrow to have to step back to open it entirely. It only made sense the door swung out, otherwise the hinges would have to be on the inside of the room. If the hinges were on the inside, they could be tampered with by prisoners. These thoughts were old news for the dark Huntsman. They had occurred to him many times in his years spent living alone in this house.
Yang led Ruby inside the child bedroom. It was so dark that they couldn't see a thing. Their uncle stepped past them and maneuvered through the shadows with familiar ease. The girls heard the rasp of curtains being moved. Then moonlight poured inside and illuminated the bedroom. Uncle Qrow stood in window, his emaciated frame silhouetted by the light of the cold Moon.
The first thing Ruby noticed was that there were two twin-sized beds.
The first thing that Yang noticed was the bars over the window.
There was no other furniture in the room. The beds took up most of the space, even when they were in opposite corners of the room. A simple iron-wrought chandelier hung from the plaster ceiling, holding merely twin candles. The only decoration was a ratty carpet in the middle, just large enough for two children to sit upon it.
Ruby broke the silence when she asked with a voice so innocent, "Whose room is this?"
A wiry smile split the white mask over her uncle's face. "This room used to be mine."
"Why did you have two beds?"
The scarlet eye closed. "That's because I wasn't the only one who slept here. I used to have a sibling." He opened his eye and looked at the sisters at his feet. "I had a twin sister."
"You're talking about my mother." Yang said in a quiet voice.
Qrow looked at her with a wide eye. Surprised scarlet locked with hard amethyst.
"How much do you know about her?" he was careful to avoid saying her name.
Yang looked down at her feet, blonde pigtails drooping. "I asked everyone I could for anything they knew. Nobody wanted to tell me anything. The only thing I learned was that Daddy was on the same team as my mother and Ruby's mommy. You were also on the same team."
Tiny hands reached into her back pocket and pulled a crinkled piece of paper out. She held it up toward her uncle. The tall man reached down and gingerly plucked the scrap from her hand. He lifted it up to his eye and sucked in a short breath.
It was a photograph of Taiyang's first wedding.
Four familiar faces smiled out of the window to the past. It had been a bright and sunny day, with white clouds floating over the wedding ceremony. The chapel in the background was the same one where Qrow had found Yang and Ruby in the forest. In the picture, the newlyweds were standing on the top of the stone stairs leading to the chapel. Above their heads was a tall arch decorated with beautiful white roses, handpicked by the maid of honor. The bride and groom held each other's hands, the picture of matrimonial bliss. On the steps beneath the bride and groom, their best man and maid of honor stood in opposite corners and held matching bouquets of flowers.
Qrow saw his own face, a shade less pale and cheeks slightly fuller. His raven hair was slicked down by copious amounts of oil. Both of his crimson eyes were looking off-screen, acting as if he wanted to be anywhere else. He wore a white tuxedo, which hilariously contrasted his normal attire entirely. Qrow remembered that it was uncomfortably tight and constricted his movements. He had been trying his best not to smile for the camera.
Wearing a simple peach-colored dress, Summer Rose was positively beaming with unrelenting joy. She was smiling as though it were her own wedding, although that wouldn't come two more years. The young woman's cherub face was flushed with rosy cheeks. Bright silver eyes glistened with tears, held back only by sheer force of will. They would spill as soon as the picture developed. Long black hair tumbled messily over her shoulders. She had never been too concerned with her hair. The red lipstick seemed out of place on Summer's face. She would never willingly wear lipstick unless it was for something very important to her.
Taiyang Xiao Long stood beside his bride. His wedding tuxedo was one of the largest ever designed. The herculean groom had been resisting the urge to flex his muscles. The expensive suit would have burst from the juggernaut force. The hulking behemoth was wearing the largest grin of them all, competing with Summer and winning just by virtue of width. Back then, the man's beard had yet to grow, so seeing Taiyang's chiseled chin again was a bit of a shock for present Qrow. The groom held both of his bride's hands inside of his own massive grip.
Traditionally, brides wore white lace dresses with transparent veils to cover their faces. There was nothing traditional about the bride's appearance. Raven Branwen's bridal gown was burgundy and hugged her every curve. Black feathers were sewn into the sleeves and into the frills of the wedding dress. Her lips were painted stygian and her nails were charcoal. In the past, Raven Branwen had a rebellious haircut. One half of her head was buzzed short. The other half was short and punk. Her crimson eyes glared straight into the camera, as if challenging everyone. There was no mistaking the fierce smirk on her wicked face. Raven was leaning toward the wall of muscle that was her husband, her hands lost within Taiyang's colossal grasp.
They had been so happy, but for such a short time. How was it possible? That the nightmare of Raven's past could have done so much damage to her marriage? Was there anything that Qrow could have done to save his twin? Could he even blame Raven for suffering her trauma so quietly until the day it all fell apart? How could Qrow be angry at his sister for letting the past hurt her so much, when he was still sleeping at ground zero of the ordeal? The past six years, he had been struggling with these same questions.
"Uncle Qrow?"
The timid voice snapped the sable slayer out from the past. He resurfaced so swiftly that he lost his balance. Stumbling back, he almost knocked little Ruby to the ground. The crumpled up photograph fell from his fingers and fluttered to the floor. The pigtailed sister picked up the paper. For a moment, the dark bringer didn't speak. When he found his voice again, it was shaking ever so slightly.
"Where did you find that?" Qrow tried to keep his storming emotions out of his words. It didn't work, and little Yang flinched at the edge in his voice. Ruby stuck a finger in her mouth and began to suck on the stubby digit.
Trembling, the young blonde stuttered, "Daddy broke a picture frame a little while ago. It was a picture of Ruby's mom. Daddy didn't notice, so I picked up the broken glass so that Ruby wouldn't get hurt." Qrow stiffened when he heard his blood brother's neglect. Yang continued with, "I found this picture behind Mommy's picture. I almost asked Daddy about it, but I was afraid he would get upset." Moist lilac eyes stared at the picture in her hands. She was looking at the bride and her bridesmaid. "I remembered that this church was somewhere in the forest. I thought I could find it and maybe I could…"
The tiny voice dropped to a whisper, then ceased to be heard. Yang was clutching the picture to her blouse while looking at the floor. Little Ruby walked behind her big sister and wrapped her arms around the downcast girl's waist. It wasn't difficult to see the whole picture.
Kneeling down before of his eldest niece, Qrow reached out and put his right hand upon her golden hair. He stroked the yellow strands that flowed from her crown. "You thought you could find a clue to lead you to your mother."
"And I did." The young blonde lifted her head and looked straight into her uncle's crimson eye. "You saved me. You can help me find my mother."
Standing abruptly, the deathlike Huntsman towered over his petite niece. Wordless, he turned and began to walk toward the open door. His ratty cloak billowed behind him as he made his retreat.
"Wait!"
Yang's shrill cry caused him to pause. He put his left hand on the doorframe and looked over his shoulder. "I cannot help you find my sister. Forget about her." Then he slipped out of the child bedroom and into the hallway. The pitter-patter of tiny shoes followed him.
"I need to find my mother! If she comes back, then Daddy will get better!" She sounded so certain of this. Qrow knew that he wasn't going to be able to run away from her. He shortened his strides and led his stubborn niece away from the bedroom.
When they were back in the lounge, the resigned slayer stopped. He took a seat in one of the throne chairs and placed his face in his hands. Immediately, Yang was beside him with her tiny lungs huffing. She stood between him and the roaring fireplace. The flickering light washed across her golden hair, casting fiery scarlet upon her silhouette. She glared at her silent uncle and spoke between gulps of air. "You will help me find my mother." The conviction in her voice was ironclad.
Lifting his pallid face from his hands, the brooding scythe wielder finally addressed his niece with a single word.
"No."
For an instant, Qrow saw a splash of crimson flash across Yang's amethyst orbs. She clenched her teeth and balled her fingers into tight fists. Huffing and puffing, the petite dragon screwed up her face into an expression of pure outrage. The flames in the fireplace seemed to cool in comparison to the building tantrum.
"You know where my mother is." The accusation in her voice was too familiar. Taiyang had used that same tone when they first spoke earlier this night. This debate would only end in heartbreak.
"I do not know where my sister is." It was an honest truth. Raven's Semblance made it impossible to track her movements. By the time rumors reached Qrow in Patch, they were long since obsolete. Trying to track her down was like catching a lightning bug in the distance. The past six years have been an effort in futility.
"You're lying." She was beginning to sound desperate. Her temper was beginning to peak.
"I am not lying. But even if I did know where my sister was, I don't think I could bring her back."
"Why can't you bring her back?" her shrill tone was much like a boiling tea kettle.
"Because Yang, there is nothing keeping her away."
In an instant, the scalding hot blood in Yang's veins turned to ice-water. She started to comprehend the implication of Qrow's words. Then she forced herself to cease that train of thought.
The young girl stamped her feet and rasped, "You're useless." The monster slayer flinched as if he had been struck. Not even the phantasm pain in his left arm could compare.
Watching Yang lose her temper was like seeing a wild daffodil wilt. She crossed her hands in front of her chest and grabbed her arms, squeezing them tightly. She bowed her head, her chin on chest, and began to heave deep breaths. The hysterical girl doubled over her stomach. She fell on her knees and cracked her head on the floor, casting her blonde hair across the floor. Qrow leaped out of his chair and reached for his niece, concern etched upon his haggard face.
As soon as his hand touched the seizing girl, she screamed out loud.
"Don't touch me! You're useless! You can't help anyone!"
The petite ball of odium fixated one hateful eye upon him. Qrow's breath hitched as if he had been stabbed. It was the color of blood. It was the color of her mother's eyes.
"I will find my mother, no matter what I have to do!"
The determination in Yang's voice sounded too familiar in Qrow's ears. He has had far too much experience with this. He has heard that same tone in his sister's voice, usually just before doing something self-destructive. This had to stop, right here.
Yang had to be stopped right now.
Qrow grabbed his niece by the shoulder with his left hand and hoisted her into the air. She shrieked and thrashed, striking his left arm. Her outrage echoed down the halls. The frenzied blonde grabbed his arm and dug her nails into the clothed limb. He did not release her, not even when she swung her foot at his face. Qrow simply let the berserker strike him with everything she had. His Aura protected him from the feeble attacks. Yang punched him, kicked him, spat in his eye, and screamed bloody murder until she was blue in the face.
This continued until the burning logs in the fireplace had been reduced to smoldering ashes. The lounge room was as dark and cold as it had been when they first entered the house. The only sound was that of the grandfather clock chiming.
When there was nothing left, Yang resorted to glaring at her uncle with her mother's eyes. Crimson locked with crimson. She seethed because her throat was too dry to speak. Finally, the tight grip that restrained the wasted berserker was released. She landed on her feet, then collapsed onto her knees; then she fell forward upon her hands, and to conclude laid flat on the floor with her cheek on the wood.
Still, Yang did not stop glaring up at the monstrous slayer.
The scythe-wielder reached behind his back. Dicter Tawel dropped to the ground, the blade clattered against the floorboards when it fell over. The source of her anger sat down on the floor, legs crossed in meditation. He gazed down upon the prone form of his anguished niece. Qrow held as still as a statue. He spoke with an exhausted voice.
"Yang, your stubbornness will get you killed."
A wheezing reply, "I don't care."
"Well there are people that do care. I am one of them."
"You don't care!" she began to cough.
"I do care, and that's why I have to put an end to this."
"I'm not going to stop, no matter what you say."
A single crimson eye closed as the man inhaled a slow breath. "Why did you run out in the woods, in the middle of the night?"
"I found a clue! I had to follow it!"
"And when you followed it, what did you find?"
"The church was rubble. And there was…" her voice trailed off.
"There was a pack Beowolves living there." Qrow finished her sentence. The twin crimson eyes broke contact with the single cardinal eye.
"What do you think," The emaciated envoy of death breathed deeply, "would have happened if I hadn't arrived."
"I would have died." The obstinacy in her tone was ironclad. She was stubbornly determined to cease caring about her life.
"You're forgetting something."
"What!" she snapped.
"You had Ruby with you."
The whole world froze over in that moment of realization. Yang didn't move an inch of her body. Her eyes widened, the crimson draining from her orbs. Her young face became sheet white. Her tiny mouth was open, but no words formed on her tongue. Yang couldn't breathe.
Leaning forward, the weary warrior stared directly into the comatose girl's amethyst eyes. There was no sympathy in that cardinal glower. He was not speaking to her like she was a bratty child. This was no insignificant issue, not with what was at stake. Right now, these words needed to be said no matter how young and ill-prepared the girl was.
"You did not simply endanger your life tonight. You almost cost Ruby her own as well. Do you know why she went with you?"
There was no reply.
"It is because Ruby trusted you."
The body on the floor twitched.
"And you betrayed that trust when you carried Ruby into the jaws of death."
Tiny fingers curled into limp fists.
"What would you have done, Yang…"
There was so much hanging in the balance. This moment would change the course of Yang's entire life.
"…If you had survived tonight…"
Everything was resting upon Qrow's next three words.
"…And Ruby hadn't?"
Hush.
It started slowly, then snowballed into more.
Her whole body started trembling, then her tiny shoulders began to quake. Tears welled up in the six-year-old girl's eyes. Then they poured out and rolled down her face, pooling on the floor beneath her cheek. She opened her mouth fully, a low cry leaking out from a tight throat. Then she wailed as if she were watching it happen, the full weight of her transgressions coming down upon her like a tidal wave.
The scenario that Qrow proposed was cruel. It was as heartless as the creatures of Grimm. She would never fully recover from this night. Always, in the back of her mind, this thought would lay lurking. In Yang's future moments of weakness, she would recall Qrow's words and relive this anguish. The overwhelming horror of this possibility was more than the elder sister could bear.
Yang would never, ever lead her sister into danger again.
When the pitiful cries began to taper off, Qrow placed his right hand on the weeping girl's back. He rubbed small circles across her shaking shoulders. He consoled his grief-stricken niece, whispering comforting platitudes into her tiny ears. The grown-man regretted her pain, but not the cause of it. He only wished that someone had done the same for his twin sister.
At last, the lounge fell silent and the upset girl was spent again. Gently, as though picking up a broken baby bird, the one-eyed crow picked her up. She did not struggle this time, but hung limply in his hands. He pressed her against his chest, his left arm supporting her bottom. She weakly wrapped her short arms around his neck and buried her tear-stricken face into his shoulder.
"Come," the monster slayer whispered soothingly, "let us return to Ruby."
Yang sniffled in agreement.
Qrow carried his niece toward the bedroom. As they passed down the hallway, Yang whispered timidly.
"Can you please tell me my mother's name?" She sounded apologetic.
"Not until the day you stop looking for her." His voice was gentle, but stern.
When they reentered the child bedroom, they found Ruby sitting face-first in a corner. She had her pudgy hands pressed against her ears and her silver eyes shut tight. It was apparent that Ruby had heard her sister's screams. In a miserable coincidence, Ruby was crouching in exactly the same position that Qrow himself had; back when he was a child living in this damnable house. Hearing the screams of their sisters had that effect upon siblings.
Seeing Ruby alive had a reinvigorating effect upon Yang. She started to push against Qrow's shoulders, trying to get to the ground. The tall man obliged and dropped his niece from his hold. She landed behind Ruby's fetal form. When she touched the still child, the four-year-old girl turned her head. Silver eyes landed on amethyst. Immediately, the younger sister sprung from the corner and tackled Yang into a vice-like hug.
"Yang, I thought you were dead!"
Yang returned the hug and rubbed wet cheeks with her living sister. When she opened her mouth, her voice cracked. "I'm so sorry, Ruby."
The precious jewel looked at gold and amethyst with silver.
"Why are you sorry?"
"I'm sorry for making you sad. I won't ever make you sad again."
The ebony-clad Huntsman stood in the doorway, watching the sisters embrace. Then they released each other and walked to the little red wagon sitting in the corner. They grabbed their respective backpacks out of the wagon and opened them. When they produced pajamas, Qrow took that as his cue to give them privacy. He closed the door gently and walked away.
When their uncle returned, the sisters were dressed for nighttime. A glass of water was held out for Yang. Uncle Qrow instructed her to swallow slowly, her throat would be sore. As the elder sister sipped with parched lips, Uncle Qrow picked up little Ruby and set her on a bed. The four-year-old dove underneath the covers and the six-year-old joined her shortly after in the same bed. The second bed didn't get much use back in the days of Qrow's youth. It was always easier to sleep with family when darkness was banging on the door.
Uncle Qrow picked up the empty glass and began to leave the room.
Then Ruby called out, "Wait, I can't sleep!"
Uncle Qrow stopped himself just outside the door and turned around. He returned to the bed and sat on the end. He looked at his youngest niece and asked, "What can I do to help you sleep?"
"I need a kiss goodnight."
"Didn't you get enough from your sister?"
"Those are sissy kisses, they don't count! I need a grown-up to kiss me goodnight." The silver-eyed youth spoke with a huff, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Sorry, I didn't know that was how it worked." He spoke with a matter-of-fact tone. Uncle Qrow leaned over the sheets and pressed his lips against Ruby's forehead.
Ruby looked at her uncle with a funny expression. "Didn't you ever get goodnight kisses?"
"My sister was the only one who has ever given me goodnight kisses." Honestly, there have been only two women who have ever touched Qrow with their lips.
"Didn't your Mommy or Daddy give you kisses?"
Uncle Qrow was beginning to realize that he had fallen into a trap. He would have to answer every one of the inquisitive girl's questions before she could fall asleep. If what he heard was true about little kids, they have a lot of questions.
Settling in for the long haul, the slender slayer glanced around the room as if collecting memories from thin air. "I didn't know my father. He left before my sister and I were born. My mother wasn't—"
There was so many words that Qrow could use to describe Mother Branwen. Not enough of them were appropriate for the girl's to hear. He picked his words carefully, trying not to reveal too much.
"My mother wasn't a loving mother. She raised us in this house, but only because she needed someone to… share in her."
"I don't get it."
He forced a smile to sooth the girl. "My father left because he couldn't take care of my mother. She was a very sick woman. She needed someone to share in her sickness."
"Did she have a cold?"
Shaking his raven head slowly, he answered, "She wasn't sick with a virus. She was sick in her head. Mother could go from happy to sad without anything happening. She didn't spend her happy times with us though. We were only in her way. She would put my sister and I in this room if she ever felt like it."
Yang eyed the bars over the windows and the heavy lock on the doorknob. A picture began to form in her head, and it wasn't a pleasant one. A deep pit formed in the blonde's stomach. Was this the life that my mother had grown up with? What kind of woman did this to her own children?
"Mother only got more sick in the head as we grew up. She would get angrier faster and faster. I think it was a blessing when I found her—"
Hanging two feet above the ground. Neck roped to ceiling. Tears spilled down from crimson eyes. Fetched key from her pocket. Didn't let her down. Ran to another locked room. Opened it and let Raven out. Told Raven the news. Cried together. No sadness. Only dreams come true. Prayers answered.
None of this was spoken, only replayed in the mind's eye of a grown man.
"How did you find her?" Ruby's tiny voice snapped Qrow out of his reverie. He answered without thinking.
"Mother was gone."
Silver eyes lowered to the bed sheet. "You lost your mommy too."
Stomach twisting into a knot, Qrow realized that he had carelessly maneuvered the conversation in the wrong direction. There is too much pain lingering in this house. Hadn't Qrow promised that he would keep Taiyang's daughters happy? It was too late now, there was nothing he could do to keep the girl from thinking about her own mother.
The tiny brunette whispered, "I feel sorry that your mommy died too."
Bitter thought: "Well, I guess that makes one person."
"Maybe our mommies are in heaven together?" She sounded hopeful.
"Not if there's such a thing as a benevolent god."
But instead of that, "All mommies go to Heaven. It's a very happy place. Summer Rose is looking down on you, right now."
A weak smile trembled on the lips of his youngest niece. Her silver orbs began to glisten. Her itty bitty voice was broken. "I—I miss my—my mom—mommy." She began to shake softly, the day's events were so tiring that she couldn't muster the energy for a proper cry.
There were no words capable of describing how horrible Qrow felt. The whole night has been one heartbreak after another. The entire family was breaking to pieces with a cavernous hole left in the middle of their hearts. Only a mother could fill this hole and make their lives normal again.
Yang fired an angry glare at her mortified uncle. Her own eyes were filling with tears. But she couldn't let herself cry anymore, not when her sister needed her. She wrapped her arms around little Ruby's trembling body.
When she began to sing to her sister, it was the most beautiful sound that Qrow has ever heard.
"Don't worry, I've got you;
Nothing will ever harm you.
I'm close by, I'll stay here;
Through all things, I will be near."
The monster slayer stood up and began to walk away. He could not provide the love that a sister could.
"Close your eyes,
Don't you cry.
Love's around you;
In time, you'll fly."
He stood in the doorway as the third stanza began. Yang forced herself to sound happier than any of them felt. She held her sister's shoulders and began to bounce on the bed in beat with the song. Ruby held on to her sister and bounced along, eyes still shedding silver tears. Her little lips moved in synch with Yang's, wordlessly singing along.
"Don't you worry about the dark,
I will light up the night with the love in my heart.
I will burn like the sun,
I will keep you safe and warm."
The song was one that Qrow has heard once before. It was back when Yang was an only child. Summer had not yet married Taiyang, but she still arrived every day to help the ill-equipped father care for the growing baby girl. Qrow lent a hand whenever at all possible. The father was enormously grateful for his teammates. The last time he heard this song, the singer was Taiyang himself.
"Like the smell of a Rose on a Summer's day,
I will be there to take all your fears away.
With a touch of my hand,
I will turn your life to gold."
This song was a spoken promise, a cheerful oath, to always provide unconditional love. It was the sort of love that Qrow has only seen possible with family. Back when the man was a child, he would never have suspected that his family would one day be six members strong.
"With a touch of my hand,
I'll turn your life to g—gold."
Qrow could still hear them sniffling as he closed the door.
Now he needed to prepare for the hard part.
Qrow entered the lounge room. He opened the log safe and retrieved another bundle of firewood and restarted the exhausted hearth. Within moments, the room was filled with the crackling of a roaring fire. Shadows sprang into the furthest corners of the room as the wood burned. Then he picked up both porcelain teacups and carried them into the center of the house.
The kitchen was one of the only rooms that was regularly used. Qrow approached the sink, dragging his feet wearily. He twisted a knob beneath the faucet. Water began to cough out in sputters. He rinsed both teacups beneath the water and then set them beside a sugar bowl. He grabbed a kettle and partially filled it with water from the tap. Then he put the kettle on top of the kitchen stove and turned on the gas. A box of matches sat beside the stove. Qrow grabbed the matchbox and struck a spark. A moment later and a blue flame was burning beneath the kettle.
As the water boiled, the man of the house walked to a wooden cabinet. Within the breakfront was a variety of ingredients and spices and teas. The last item was what Qrow retrieved. He picked two flavors out of the wide selection. Peppermint and chamomile. By this time, the water had just begun to boil. With clockwork precision, the tired man swept by the stove, picked up the kettle, and deposited just the right amount of boiling water to each teacup. He left the bags of tea into the cups. He lifted the lid of the sugar bowl and picked up two cubes. Both of them were deposited in the teacup with peppermint. The chamomile received no additives. He retrieved two porcelain saucers, their patterns matching the teacups. He removed the tea bags after they had finished flavoring the water.
Carrying both teacups and saucers, the willowy Huntsman reentered the lounge. Qrow put a porcelain saucer on the table, in front of one of the throne chairs. He set the teacup of chamomile on the saucer, both items within hands reach from the royal seat. Then he dragged his exhausted body to the other chair and set the second saucer on the table. The peppermint teacup sat on the saucer. Finally, he took a seat in the large throne and leaned back. Qrow did not drink from the cup in front of him.
The warmth of the fire swept over the weary bag of bones. The metronome of the grandfather clock dragged the slayer of monsters to a fitful slumber.
The clatter of porcelain woke him up.
A single crimson eye opened just a slit. The fire had died down to smoldering embers. By the time on the clock, only three hours had passed. It was now the darkest part of the night, just before the sunrise.
Clink.
He held perfectly still, listening for it again.
Clink.
Qrow sat up in his throne and picked up the teacup before him. Lifting it by his fingertips, he pressed his lips to the porcelain and took a sip. The peppermint was cold and sweet, exactly how he enjoyed it. He held the cup by his fingertips and looked across the long table.
She was sitting in the throne chair, opposite of Qrow. She set her cup of chamomile onto the porcelain saucer with a clink. Then she crossed her legs and looked across the table.
Twin crimson eyes met a single cardinal eye.
Qrow Branwen greeted her with a civil, "Hello, sister."
Raven Branwen replied with, "Hello, brother."
End Chapter 10: Requiem for Qrow