Embers of Autumn
Chapter Eleven
Salem is alone in her throne room. That is, if one can call a great span of solid stone not as littered with stones and stalagmites as the others with a collection of them forming something akin to a lofty seat a throne room. Hunched painfully, fists against her face, she is silent. For nearly two decades this otherwise empty chamber had only echoed with whispers and footsteps, her own voice in regards to only herself as she paced without consideration for the time she might have wasted. But for the last hour she has been wailing, shrieking in agony as a terrible burning ripped through her eyes and brought them to bleeding. Thick and dark rivulets course between her fingers and over her pale hands, blending in with the hideous veins beneath her skin. More still pools and drips from the tip of her nose as gravity pulls it there. Her face is otherwise twisted into a silent scream, lips pulled back and laying bare her edged teeth. Little tremors work through her shoulders, a manifestation of the sickening mixture of fury and pain roiling up from her ribcage.
After the screaming comes the rhythmic and desperate sucking breaths, an instinctual struggle for composure. Steadily, inch by inch she's able to straighten. Her chin remains tucked as her spine lines upright, hands still concealing her face, heavy exhales pushing between them. Salem cringes at the distinct wet sound of half congealed blood being pulled apart as she lifts her palms, a toothy grimace set firm in her features as she looks down and sees the thick darkness pooling in the creases of her hands. Fingers hook in a shaking pitch of anger, a growl crawling out of her chest.
"That...child," she hisses to herself, her teeth tight together, unmoving as the words form. Her crimson eyes thin perilously, the irises glowing like dying suns. "Damn. That. Child."
First Jabberwocky, now this.
On the one hand, her connection to the massive dragon was not nearly as intrinsic as it is with Manticore. Her bond with Jabberwocky had been aged, thinned by its dormancy, allowing her the most basic advantage her semblance and magic could afford. That red-hooded brat had only done minor harm to herself, and the gaping void that dwelled inside of her took the brunt of it. But this, this; Salem's tether to Manticore was so much more intimate, and this incident made her pay for it.
Manticore kowtowed to her, to the thing living inside of her, having slain it herself in this place after having been dragged through the portal with it. And while a Grimm of its persuasion could never truly be destroyed, it recognized her authority over it even after being reconstituted and forced inside a human shell. It remembered her magic and respected its pseudo-death at her hand, thus giving her semblance more sway over it, making it so much easier for Salem to command and influence it. It also allowed her to see -to some degree- through its eyes even after it had passed through the mirror.
The rage pitches again, her mind's eye flooded with silver light and a red cape. Then, like an electric shock to her brain, the image flickers back in time to Raven's Guardian, to Summer Rose, the memory jerking an ugly, choking sob out of her as it becomes part of a blurred burial mound of recollections.
We were supposed to protect each other. They were supposed to protect me.
Her eyes burn as if to fill with tears but none come, there haven't been tears in nearly twenty years.
Salem swallows it all down, shoving it back into the darkness inside her as she snaps to her feet. Pitch robes billow around her as she strides quickly, almost defiantly towards the wall of volcanic glass, jaw clenching with intent as she reaches out to touch it. Crimson light radiates from where her fingertips make contact, vibration humming through the glass, through the unseen reaches of the ether between realms. Just as her patience begins to thin beyond what she can tolerate, Cinder's likeness blossoms to life, a back-lit hologram of sorts.
"Where are you?" she refuses to waste time on pleasantries.
Cinder doesn't respond immediately, likely having to make a conscious effort in hiding her disgust at Salem's bloodied face. "Mistral."
"I want you in Atlas as soon as possible. One of the Maidens is a Schnee." The prestigious family's crest on the girl's clothing is the only other thing to stand out among the blinding platinum flood in her mind.
"Oh?" her surprise is minor but still visible.
"And I would certainly prefer it if you see to the matter yourself this time."
"My pleasure. But what about Manticore, did your pet project not turn out like you hoped?"
"That is none of your concern, though it has certainly proven more successful than you in any case." Salem feels a small blossom of amusement at the way Cinder scowls, though it wilts as quickly as it forms. "As it stands I believe your body count is tied now."
A visible flinch echoes through Cinder's image in the mirror.
"So you may want to consider redoubling your efforts, that is, if you wish to remain on my good side."
"With all due respect, you don't have a good side."
Salem almost laughs. "True enough. Now go, do as I ask and inform me the moment the job is done."
"As you wish."
Salem reaches for the mirror, her hand pausing just inches above the glass, Cinder's image rippling out of sight before she can banish it herself. She tucks her chin, half looking over her shoulder, eyes thinned in suspicion. That once stilled fury billows back to life as she registers the itching sensation of being watched.
Someone is attempting to pierce the veil again.
On the other side Cinder inhales and exhales, quietly but clearly annoyed as she slips the palm-sized mirror out of sight. She, Emerald, Mercury, and Neo occupy a table at a noisy inn in Mistral, Cinder's back situated to the wall to do away with the little worry of anyone looking over her shoulder. Her cohorts mimic each other's posture, elbows on the table and leaning in, waiting.
"What's the old goat-woman carrying on about now?"
Cinder isn't about to chastise Mercury for voicing a thought she herself has had before, but she doesn't let her amusement show either. "She believes there's a Maiden in Atlas. A Schnee, no less."
Emerald and Mercury look at each other, wordless. Emerald doesn't even turn her head, not until they all do to see Neo as she claps her palms excitedly together with a smile wide enough to border on unhinged before she begins quickly signing.
"Not this time, I want you to stay with me." Cinder seems genuinely disappointed to say so, partly touched at how her Guardian wilts in her chair. Her hands start moving again, the motions punctuated jerks meant to convey a tone of dissatisfaction. "I know you're bored, but I'll make it up to you, I promise."
Emerald and Mercury continue to watch her sign, Neo's delicate brow knitting and her eyes thinning.
Cinder sighs, uncrossing her legs beneath the table. "Let's be fair, Emerald and Mercury deserve an opportunity to redeem themselves, don't they?"
Mercury's face scrunches. "What's all this 'redeem' shit? We got your damn mirror, didn't we?"
"Yes, but you didn't manage to kill anyone. That's not much of a victory if you really think about it." and she chuckles quietly, comfortably. "So I'll give you two one more chance. Then, Neo," her smoldering gaze slides to her left, "you can do as you please. Alright?"
Neo crosses her arms and pouts, begrudgingly accepting the terms.
"So I want you an Emerald to leave immediately."
The muscles in Mercury's jaw bunch momentarily. "And what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to look into some new leads." And Cinder responds with an audible wariness, spying the old mirror hanging over the hearth across the room. "There are still other Maidens to find."
Whether or not Mercury bought her reasoning was beyond Cinder's concern, all that mattered to her is to see him nod and stand up, touching Emerald on the shoulder as he starts away from the table to encourage her to follow. Her dusky brows knit as she watches Emerald remaining still, chin tucked and submissive in her seat for several seconds.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing."
"Oh, come now," her expression softens, "you can tell me."
Emerald is quiet again, features pulling inward, her thoughts weighing one another. She stands with an exhale, the breath covered up by the groan of wooden chair legs moving across the floor. A part of her begs her to shut up, to just insist it really is nothing, even say she's just tired and on her period, but something makes her ignore it. Something compels her to tell the truth.
"This...I didn't sign up for this." her entire body tenses as she comprehends her own voice, strangely clear among the humdrum of the busy inn. "Hunting people down..."
Cinder waits, curious if there's more, her molten eyes smoldering when no further words emerge. She straightens, back rigid, shoulders level, her posture commanding Emerald's full attention. She takes a breath. "You signed up to do as you are told."
Emerald's expression is clearly tense but strangely neutral. She's waiting for that notoriously quick hand of hers to connect with her face, though it never comes. All she'll feel is the almost suffocating weight of Cinder's eyes as she holds the Fall Maiden's gaze.
"Well?"
She flinches, Cinder's expectant word bringing a sweltering wave of heat across her skin. Emerald nods unsteadily. "We'll try to contact you as soon as we reach Atlas."
"See that you do."
Cinder will watch her leave, eyes thin all the while, her thoughts turning like clockwork. Once she's out of sight Cinder relaxes back in her chair, ordering a round of wine shortly after.
(II)
Weiss' scroll vibrates madly in her pocket. It's been going off since they entered Atlesian airspace and into the reach of its main communications tower, but she ignores it. Its silent alarms barely register through the almost nausea that hangs on her, been hanging on her for the entirety of the few hours it took for the ship to land. The few hours she spent looking but not speaking, taking in everything and offering up nothing as she sits with the others in the carrier's sick bay, her mind buzzing and buzzing. Her thoughts blur together like rampant, bleeding watercolors, every image formed in her mind's eye having frayed edges.
Nora's crying. She's been sobbing into Ren's shoulder nearly the entire trip. And every time she quiets down, possibly finished, she just starts again. Ren's expression is the most emotive that she has ever seen, his eyes wide and bleary with the tears that either he won't allow or simply won't surface. He holds on to Nora like it's the only thing he's capable of.
Yang gripes at being harassed by the medical staff, telling them time and again that she's fine. She goes so far as to threaten a technician that tries offering her something for the pain she must be feeling from a blow to the head, promising to "change his fucking gender" if he comes one step closer with a syringe. Weiss can't help but wonder if Yang might just like pain a little too much these days.
Tag is the exact opposite, exceptionally calm and accepting of medical attention to the bullet wound in her arm. Her only resistance comes and goes with simple questions brought about by being unaccustomed to this sort of treatment. She's more curious than afraid of the shot they give her, marveling at how the pain simply disappears while they carefully extract a bit of metal and bandage it up. She thanks them and resigns to sit quietly, the pad of one thumb stroking circles on the opposite wrist. The faunus seems untroubled, enviously so. Then again it could just be the side effects of the drugs they gave her.
Ruby hadn't said a word to anyone. She retreated into herself, pulling her hooded cape around her like an impenetrable shield and all but disappearing into the corner she occupies. Weiss finds herself constantly looking at her, her heart clenching tight enough to hitch her breath. More than once her gaze is pulled away to meet Yang's red-rimmed lilac eyes, the older sister's leer almost accusatory. Weiss swallows, withers, and breaks away, unable to stand the heat that washes over her recovering aura.
In regards to herself, Weiss is unsure how to feel, though she swears her body is demanding she feel every emotion all at once along with her mind trying to make her micromanage everything going on around her. She has an almost alien urge to bite her nails -something she has never done- to give herself something physical and real to bring it all back to center. A small part of her wants to forget the morning's events like one forgets a passing dream, but Weiss won't allow it. She forces herself to accept that it all happened, and that their numbers had been reduced by two because of it. Billy had disappeared when the airship crashed, no one could recall having seen them. And Jaune...
They had all seen and -strangely- not seen it happen. They had all watched, gaping and helpless as he was ripped out of the open hatch of the airship, his form quickly replaced with the Grimm knight and its fractured bone plates, tearing claws, and horrible green eyes. After it was so decidedly removed Nora had scrambled to the doorway, looking down into the sea below for any sign of Jaune. All she could see was the broken up pieces of the ice platform they had been standing on. Even the giant Grimm had disappeared. Nora had called for him, his name erupting as a broken scream. Ren had to tear her away so the hatch would close.
Weiss would not-so-readily admit that she didn't have much fondness for Jaune beyond that of an acquaintance, but she had never wished harm on him. Certainly nothing like this. For a moment her thoughts get away from her, turning into the cold and practical reasonings of a Schnee: Maybe this is better. Maybe they can be together now.
Her stomach turns over.
Good god, what a day. And it's barely half over.
Weiss feels relief wash over her, exhaling at the gentle jarring of the craft touching down onto solid ground. Not so much the comfort of being in her home kingdom again, but more so not being over open water. As badly as she wants to return to terra firma, Weiss waits and watches everyone else file out of the infirmary, unconsciously counting heads. Ruby lingers under her watch for several seconds; maybe she fell asleep? Weiss almost says her name, the word forming in her mouth but stopping as her partner moves, standing up without her cloak moving much at all. Still concealed, still defensive, she walks out, Weiss following not too close behind. She can almost feel Ruby's aura's repulsing pressure, a silent request that she -and anyone else sensitive to it- keep their distance for now.
There are flurries in the air in spite of the only mostly cloudy skies, cold winds pushing across the city in abrupt, staggering gusts. Most of them disembark without a reaction save for a flinch to the chill. The two Maidens, however, mimic each other in a sharp recoil and keen squeak as the cold works right through their still damp clothing -not to mention that Tag isn't wearing shoes and even her midriff is exposed.
"Nature's grace," Tag gasps, "and people actually live here?!"
"Yeah," Yang laughs as she strolls across the tarmac, "and they can be just as welcoming."
"Hush, you," Weiss hisses through her teeth, hoping the way they have started to click together isn't audible.
"Is this snow?" though the faunus still shivers, her tight discomfort is lined with fascination. "I've never seen it outside the presence of Dust. It's pretty."
"It will be just as nice to look at through a window once we're inside." Weiss hugs herself, hands moving feverishly up and down her arms in hopes of generating some warmth.
"Miss Schnee,"
Weiss mentally cringes as she comprehends General Ironwood's presence, he in his perfectly pressed uniform and in the company of a specialist walking with purpose towards them. Weiss makes her way to the front of the pod of young hunters and officers, settling to match strides with Captain Erikson. The general would ease into keeping pace with them.
"I have transportation waiting for you." he begins, his tone neutral. "I'm glad to see you arrived safely."
"Much appreciated, general." she's still shivering, fighting to keep her jaw steady as she speaks. "And you can thank Captain Erikson and her crew for that, as well as to the officer in charge of the outpost for the quick reinforcements."
He nods once, a sharp, practiced motion. "Will you be returning to the manor?"
"I will, along with my team." she mimics the gesture. "Any changes in security around my property?"
"With your sister being discharged, we've upped it slightly, yes. And she's still being escorted by Specialist Holiday."
She nods again. "Does Winter know I'm here?"
"Once the carrier entered our airspace I saw to it that she was contacted. She's eager to see you."
Warmth blossoms in her chest, comforting. But she dwells on it briefly. "General, I need a search detail organized as soon as possible."
"Oh?"
"We lost two hunters in the bay, and without concrete evidence that they're...no longer with us, I'm going to consider them missing. Can you make that happen?"
"I'll see to the matter personally if you prefer."
Her knee-jerk reaction is to say no, having yet to forget their abrasive interaction some two months ago following her father's funeral. But she swallows it down, this wasn't the time. "What do you need?"
"Name, age, physical description,"
"One of them is Jaune Arc."
"Ah." As a student of a combat school, his records could be accessed for anything he needed to know.
"The other is a bison faunus named Billy, approximately seven feet tall -thick build, of native Menagerine descent and in their early fifties." with the ease she rattles off the details one would think she had done this before. More so it's just the years of almost Pavlovian discipline initially meant to run an international corporation. "Is that enough?"
"Plenty. I'll have it organized within the hour."
"Thank you, general."
Ironwood walks with them to the military transport vehicles idling in wait, offering the courtesy of opening the door for Weiss, though she concedes to let Yang and Ruby go first. She nods to Tag when she says she'll ride with Nora and Ren, not wanting them to be alone. They were relatively safe now, so there's no hesitation in splitting up.
"Miss Schnee,"
Weiss pauses after settling into the seat, hands folding in her lap reflexively.
"I want to be of as much help as possible."
"I understand, general."
"I was able to convince Ozpin that I could be trusted, depended on," his usually stoic features flinch a little, soften. "And I'd like the opportunity to prove the same to you."
For a moment she just looks back at him, face unreadable. She takes a breath and exhales easily, trying to hide a suddenly mounting fatigue. "I'll consider it. And thank you again." She relaxes back into the seat, letting him shut the door.
The ride to the manor is blissfully quiet, no small talk or interrogations. Yang is in the middle, fully occupied with massaging the end of her stump with a tight knit to her features. Ruby has squashed herself into her seat, coiled up as she often is in bed and still hiding in her cloak. Weiss props her elbow on the door, letting her head rest in her hand, the world falling away and washed out by the hum of the vehicle's engine. A half hour of peace.
It's just as quiet in the car that trails behind them, Nora finally having tired herself out. Ren holds one hand and Tag holds the other even though she doesn't feel like it's her place. But she knows loss, so perhaps it actually is.
No one is too quick to move when the vehicles roll to an easy stop in front of the manor, but they all do eventually, forming a broken line along the paved path to the front door that opens to them from the inside.
"Welcome home, Miss Schnee."
She smiles, actually comforted to be here for a change. "Thank you, Klein."
"...And guests?"
"Oh, yes, I'm sorry," she sputters, cheeks turning a bit pink. It had never actually crossed her mind to send word ahead. Truly embarrassing.
"It's quite all right, miss, I'll have the staff prepare the guest rooms immediately. And, considering the time, should I inform the kitchen crew as well?"
To be honest, she can't imagine any of them being hungry after the hellacious morning they were forced to stomach. "Perhaps later, though I would like some coffee, if you please. That's all for now."
"Very good, miss." a little smile lifts the corner of his mustache as he dips his chin, easing into a steady gait to attend his task.
"I know I could use a stiff drink," Yang says just loud enough to hear, a little snicker working out at the end.
"I don't think so." Weiss half turns. "And no smoking either. Not only can I not stand the smell, but I'll be getting in touch with your surgeon and I'm sure the last thing they want is that garbage showing up on your blood work."
Yang rolls her eyes, conceding, still smirking. A smirk that dies as she watches Weiss turn the rest of the way to face her, taking three resolute steps in her direction, and hold out her hand.
"Hand them over."
"You're kidding, right?"
"Not at all." Weiss holds her gaze, fingers curling. "I'm not above taking them."
The brawler lifts her chin and looks down her nose. "I'd like to see you climb up here and try, shorty."
One snowy brow twitches. "You said so yourself that it isn't a habit, so you shouldn't have a problem going without them."
It takes a moment, some tense seconds of the two staring each other down with steadily souring expressions, but Yang relents. With a shrug and another roll of her eyes she works her hand down the front of her shirt, into her bra, and pulls out the small carton to place in Weiss' waiting palm.
"Happy now?"
She nods once. "Thank you."
"I better get those back."
"Not in my house, you won't." Weiss counters as she turns away.
"Now wait just one damn min-,"
Weiss ignores her completely, her attention on their exchange disappearing as she sees Winter crossing the floor from the bottom of the grand staircase, Specialist Holiday electing to hang back so as not to intrude.
Initially there are no words, though the sisters seem thoroughly happy to see each other. Weiss is happy to see her sister moving about on her own power and relatively safe at home, no longer dressed in a hospital gown and hooked to machines and harried by doctors every other hour. She's happy that Winter smiles so freely and opens her arms to her, happy that they're able to just hold one another for a moment as they meet in the middle.
"Weiss,"
"Hm?"
"Are your clothes wet?"
"Only a little."
Winter leans back, giving Weiss a much closer inspection now that she can. "Your hair...you look terrible. What happened?"
A lump forms in Weiss' throat as she looks up, and she fights to put the tired smile on her face as she realizes she likely does look an absolute fright. "It's been a very...long day so far."
"So it appears." worry pulls the older Schnee's features, delicate lines forming in her brow. "I expect you to tell me all about it...that is, if you have the energy."
"I'll be all right," Weiss nods, "after a change of clothes and some coffee." Maybe a hot shower while she's at it. Yes, a shower sounded wonderful.
"And your...?" Winter looks away from her briefly, her gaze fixing on Tag, unable to recall the last time a faunus was in this house.
"Yes, they'll be staying with us for a...while." Heavens, she really hadn't thought this completely through. "But I'll make sure they don't disturb you, don't worry."
"I'm not worried at all, in fact I'm glad to see your number of friends has grown. Besides, from what I heard coming down the stairs, you have a considerable handle on things." and Winter offers up a knowing, almost proud smile.
"Well, I do my best." Weiss tries to be modest, though internally she's beaming. A little part of her wanted to rub it in Yang's face.
"And it shows." Winter nods. "But once you've all had a chance to get settled, I would like for us to have some time to talk in private."
"Of course." And at the moment, Weiss couldn't care less what Winter had in mind, only that -even if for a short while- it would just be the two of them together.
"But don't rush yourself, I've got time. Daisy and I will wait for you in the den whenever you're up for it."
"Daisy?" It's a rare occasion that her sister ever referred to someone outside of the family by their first name.
Winter smiles, no explanation offered, just a parting embrace before she leaves the room.
It won't be a long wait for the guestrooms to be made liveable, fresh linens on the beds and towels in the bathrooms. All of them gave up their clothes to be laundered, trading them out for the provided pajamas emblazoned with the Schnee family crest or simple cotton shirts and pants. Nora and Ren bury themselves into bed, meaning to remain there undisturbed as the lock clicks into place and echoes through the spacious corridor. Yang tries to follow Ruby into her room, but she must have felt the abrasion of her little sister's aura, forcing her to pause and only watch as Ruby disappeared behind the door, leaving Yang alone to do the same.
"Is there TV in these rooms?" Yang asks Weiss before she loses sight of her.
The heiress hangs in the doorway of her own room some feet away. "Yes, though I'll admit I only know what the news channels are."
"That's fine, I'll make due. But I warn you now, I intend to watch porn with the volume all the way up in protest of you taking my cigarettes."
Weiss' expression flattens, eyes thin. "With the way this house is built, the only one you're going to embarrass is yourself. But knock yourself out if it makes you happy." and they just so happen to stick their tongues out at the exact same moment in defiance of each others' stubbornness.
For the first time in weeks Weiss is comfortable in her bedroom, feeling suddenly liberated as the door closes behind her, leaving everything outside for now. She moves leisurely about her room, unconsciously staying clear of the big bay window as she dresses down in preparation of her shower. Another task she takes without hurry. When she emerges in a silk nightgown and a plush, pale blue housecoat, hair up in a towel, she's pleased to find coffee and all its fixings waiting for her. Her first cup is only half full but she drinks it mostly out of the need to have it quickly, just to delve into the warmth it always brings her sooner rather than later. She exhales, content, and slows down to prepare a second cup. She picks up the folded newspaper on the tray before easing over to her bed and sitting down.
Weiss spends the next hour and a half between her coffee, the newspaper, the news, and dozing off. An hour and a half to focus on next to nothing and let herself relax. She still hasn't checked her scroll, half dreading the mess of messages she likely has waiting for her, and refuses to do so for at least another day. She'll go so far as to leave the device in her room when she puts on a pair of slippers and ventures out into the hallway, making her way towards the den on the ground floor.
(III)
Jaune doesn't remember hitting the ice, doesn't remember the way his body went limp when it bounced. All his rattled brain can comprehend is the brief blossom of pain at the back of his head and the darkness the impact had thrown him into and the drifting of free-fall. The world is black and quiet now, serene even, and seems to go on forever. Deeper and deeper down. He doesn't mean for it to take him, but he doesn't resist. He can't.
Faint sensations that swell into something stronger, something big enough to trigger memories and thoughts. Floating like this reminds him of home, of summers he spent at the lake on his back, just drifting on the surface with his ears beneath the water and blocking out everything else until he fell asleep. The gentle sting of his resulting sunburn permeates the static surrounding him and settles in his skin, attempts to pull him back to the surface. Blurred pictures start trying to form, smudges of blue and white and bright yellow, mixing together until they're indistinguishable.
It all turns blue. A dark, midnight velvet stretches from one corner of his mind's eye to the other. It's dotted with stars and a diffused replica of the shattered moon. The horizon tries to form, managing something partial, but is wholly unimportant even to his memory. What's important is the staggering scarlet silhouette that materializes and draws the entirety of his subconscious focus, coalescing the image to the clarity of a razor's edge.
This night must have played back in his head as a daydream a million times, every time beginning in the same instant, that moment she walked in front of him and all his attention was torn away from Neptune -had it been Neptune?- and fell on her. Jaune remembers watching her ascend the ballroom staircase that led to the balcony, seemingly resigned, and the brief second he takes to move his feet and follow her. And while it hadn't registered at the time, he remembers the fake smile she put on for him when he can't believe she didn't have a date for the dance. Now that face, the sadness in her eyes, all but haunts him.
Jaune feels his body jerk, his consciousness lifting a little further, resisting the hitching pain in his ribs.
He tries instead to remember the bright bubbles of her laughter. Had he really made her that happy? No, it had to have been his dress. He tries to remember what it was like to see her eyes light up when he took her hand and pulled her close to him. All he wants to think about is how the world around them faded and it was just them, and what he would willingly give just to hear her laugh again.
I'd give anything.
Then give me your eyes.
Everything begins to break apart like ashes on a hot breeze, the sweet veneer of his dream becoming corrupted as the black nothingness surrounds him again. His consciousness is beginning to scramble, reach for whatever it needs to wake him up. Jaune can feel his heart starting to pound, the image in his mind's eye steadily becoming unrecognizable. He can't look away or banish the image of her as her skin pales to a sickening grayness -like death- and seems to fracture with dark crimson veins. The green of her eyes flashes bright and toxic, the whites going black and they seem to burn right through him. He perceives fangs in her mouth as her face contorts into an expression he can't possibly name. He can feel gripping, powerful hands tearing into him, clawing over him.
Then it isn't Pyrrha at all. His mind's eye blinks and the thing her memory became has vanished, ripped away to reveal something almost as horrifying. Something with white hair and bleeding brimstone eyes. Panic rails through him as he distinctly feels a cold and solid hand clutching at his jaw.
I'm going to shatter you, boy.
Now more than ever he wants to look away, but can't, even as her other ghostly white hand manifests out of the darkness and moves towards his face with hooked fingers. There's the detached sensation of his own limbs thrashing mindlessly against her.
Go ahead, fight me -fight just like she did- but I can guarantee you this will be much easier than what Manticore is going to do to you.
He feels a scream perched -no, bulging- in his throat, but he can't open his mouth. He can feel the ice cold prick of her claws on his skin, the pads of her thumbs moving over his eyes.
There's a stabbing shock of pain through his skull.
Jaune's senses come back to him in rush, a riot of stimuli that has him scrambling to right himself. There's water in his ears, up to his shoulders and all over his face, at least he hopes it's water even though it doesn't taste like it and smells like hot garbage and fresh sick. He sputters for air, half choking, his body throbbing with the mad cadence of his heart. He opens his eyes and panics.
"Jaune, you all right, boy?"
"...Is that you, Billy?" he turns around, the mess he's half-submerged in sloshing around him. "I-I can't see."
"Because it's dark as night in here," the response is a chesty grunt. "We're inside the monster's gut."
His heart clenches as so many things are suddenly understood. No, this isn't water he's swimming in, not at all. Now he can feel the burning in his skin and realizes why. "Oh my god,"
"Keep it together, I need your help if we're going to get out of this. Get over here, I can't use my hands."
Jaune can't see it, but the massive faunus has wedged themselves into the opening of the Grimm's stomach, using every ounce of strength they can muster to keep the fleshy passage from closing. If it was allowed to, the stomach acid would fill this disgusting chamber they were trapped in.
"Use your ears, boy! Follow my voice." they snap when he takes too long. "We'll have time to worry about it later!"
He quickly twists again, finding almost no traction as he treads toward the sound, the semi-solid ground beneath his feet feeling like slimy rubber. Jaune takes as quick a set of strides as he can manage, hands out until he can touch something.
"Mind those hands,"
"Sorry,"
"I need you to reach for my bag, the big one."
He only nods, his hands feeling about their torso for the scaled skin of the pouch's strap. He follows it down, his hands starting to prickle with pain as they're submerged, and quickly yanks the bag to the surface.
"There's Dust in there, use it."
"B-but,"
"But what?! ...Please don't tell me you don't know how," they watch him, their night vision just able to make out the grayness his face. "...Nature's grace."
"W-well what about your semblance?"
"That would put this monster and you inside of me! We'd die anyway!" Billy groans, jaw tight as they resist the natural clench of the muscles surrounding them.
"Then tell me what to do."
"It's the paint, put it on."
Jaune has to fish through the bag, cringing at some of the contents having been nearly liquified, reduced to sludge. He finally feels something round and solid in his grip, pulling it out. His fingers fumble around the firm, round object in an attempt to open it. When it does come apart he dips his fingers in, completely unaware as to how much is too much or even what the affinity of the Dust is as he smudges it on his cheek. For all he knew, he could be about to blow them to kingdom come. Then again, that had to be a sight better than being slowly digested.
"Now what?"
"Hold on to me." Billy waits, giving one hard, upward press with their shoulders until they feel the human put his arms around their waist. "Your semblance, it pushes outward, doesn't it?"
"I...yes, I guess."
"You guess?"
"I'm not really good at using it, it's hit and miss at best."
"How in the hell did you survive this long?!" they half-buckle at the waist as the creature's muscles push down again. "It doesn't matter, just...try!"
Jaune swallows. Of all the things I could screw up, please don't let this be one of them.
The massive Grimm stalks the waters off of Vale's northern coast, its body moving back and forth to smoothly propel it beneath the surface. Its deep, throaty groans and rumbles telegraph the sort of heartburn it feels, a pain only so noticeable to it. But then the pain pitches, its body scrunching with a great cloud of black ink billowing out of its mouth. The rumbles amplify to roars as its belly swells, forming a distinct bubble that eventually bursts. Flickers of bright yellow energy arc through the water amid a black cloud that emerges from the now gaping hole. The Grimm starts to sink, its brimstone eyes burning bright for a few seconds before going dark.
Billy and Jaune emerge from the darkness and scramble for the surface, neither of them looking back to see if they were being followed by either the great Grimm or anything lesser it might have spit up. Once above water they make for the nearest shore. Though they're physically tapped by the time they reach solid ground, they help each other to disappear into the thick treeline; it would be too easy for a Nevermore to swoop down out of nowhere and pick them off if there were still any hanging around.
After several solid minutes of something resembling running they stop, they can't go any further because everything hurts and Jaune can't shoulder Billy's weight anymore. He holds on long enough for the faunus to grab hold of the nearest, most stable tree trunk, able to support themselves while he collapses into a bed of moss and clover.
His skin still burns. His eyes feel swollen and his vision is blurred; he can't see it but they're bright red with blown vessels. Every bit of exposed flesh is bright red, raw and tender, and his clothing is full of holes from the acid in the Grimm's stomach. He lifts his head, whimpering at how he can now see his toes breaking through the top of one of his shoes. He can't see his socks through the holes in his jeans. Jaune turns his head, cringing hard at the state of Billy's legs. Bright copper skin is blemished with open sores, the bare soles of their feet livid and bleeding. Their leather breeches are eaten off at the knee but frayed blemishes in the material reach all the way to their waist.
Billy slides onto their backside with the commotion of scraping bark and the snapping of twigs beneath them. "You all right?" they pant.
"Y-yeah, I guess. You?"
"I'll make it, I think." a breathy exhale that sounds like an attempted laugh. "Gods above, it burns,"
"It ate through your aura?"
"I held it up as long as I could." Billy's head goes back and forth against the bark, brow knit and jaw tight. "I'd been in there for a while...since shortly after the ship crashed."
Jaune makes a disgusted noise in his throat. He had only been inside that thing for a few minutes at most, he couldn't imagine any longer than that. He watches the faunus fuss for their pouch, half tearing into it once they have it in their hands. Frustration begins to mask the pain on their face.
"Damn it all." Billy growls, upending the pouch to dump what was left inside. "All my food's ruined. If I can't find something...and with these," they look down at themselves, shaking their head at the wounds up and down their legs, "I won't be able to travel far."
"Maybe I still have something in my backpack." Jaune rolls his shoulders, wincing at the ache in them, and pulls his pack around to his front. It had a few holes in it, but is more wet than damaged. "Even if I don't...I'm sure I can find something. My family and I went camping all the time...how hard could foraging be?"
And for the moment he's confident, until he catches the uncertain worry in Billy's silver eyes.
Author's Note: This one came a lot easier, I'm happy to say. Next chapter I'll be having some Winter/Weiss family time and -hopefully- some White Rose for all one of you that's been so patiently waiting. And a little Klein cameo because I saw him in episode two and liked him instantly. And, maybe, depending on how it goes, I might introduce you to Jaune's family. Questions and comments are always welcome, and thanks to everyone who reads and reviews. And feel free to check out my tumblr for shits and giggles involving this hot mess of a story at .com
