I just published the first chapter of a new monthly story, a RWBY/ Fairy Tail crossover called 'Fairies of the Shattered Moon' based on the RWBY Fairies story idea that was on my profile poll (which has now been replaced with a new RWBY/ My Hero Academia story idea). If that's up you're alley, please give it a look after you're done here.
If you wish to support me, please check out my P a treon for future chapter summaries, story ideas and more: p a Treon.(c om) (backslash) themaster4444
Beta-ed by Ryujomaru15
Cover Art: nytemarezero300
"Bastard, bastard, bastard…" Mordred muttered as she swatted Clarent at Jaune's sword. If she yelled, there was a chance Amber might hear and Sapphire had been quite open about her wishes regarding profanity around the youngest sister during this temperamental time. So she kept her voice as low as she could while she and her master sparred in the motel courtyard.
For once, she wasn't mad at Jaune. He had told her the truth. About Ruby's plan, and more importantly, Archer's past indiscretions with father. Thus, she imagined the stupid jester's smirking face every time she struck Crocea Mors.
Granted, this also left her a bit blind to her master's mad scrambling to parry her strikes as her enhanced Servant strength and speed began to seep into her assault.
"Saber! Saber!" he shouted frantically.
With a final yell, she slashed at Crocea Mors, sending Jaune skidding across the pavement, his aura desperately flashing to keep him together. He panted, his eyes wide as he gazed up at her.
"You good?"
Mordred let out a mighty sigh. "Yeah, I'm good. Sorry about that, master."
"It's okay," he assured her. "But do you think we can work on that Invisible Air thing that Archer mentioned? I don't want to be a burden to you if I have to use Strike Air in a fight."
"Sure. I don't know too much about it though." Mordred informed him. "The one time my mother explained it, she said it was similar to my Red Thunder, except you hold it in. You know, keep it continuously cycling around instead of releasing it all in one giant burst. The wind somehow reflects light in such a way that the sword becomes invisible to the eye. It gives the blade a shield and gives you a crucial advantage in a duel."
"If the enemy doesn't know how long your sword is, they don't know how to measure their strikes." Jaune nodded. "So, I guess, I just keep practicing. Like last night?"
"Seems like the only way."
Jaune raised his broadsword in both hands. He closed his eyes. His aura glowed a pure white, soon joined by flecks of blue and gold dust. Wind slowly gathered around Crocea Mors, leaking out in random gales.
Her master scrunched his face. Sweat poured down his forehead. The wind compressed around his sword, forging a stable cocoon of a tornado. The blade was still easily visible, but it was something.
A few moments later, Jaune lowered the weapon, the wind fortunately rushing off as a strong breeze instead of a blast of Strike Air.
Mordred whistled. "You learn fast, master."
"It's not enough. It took everything I had just to control it," Jaune panted. "I couldn't make it invisible."
Mordred shrugged. "The point isn't to imitate father. The point is to get better control over your aura, so you can do this stuff without wiping me out. And I didn't even feel a strain during that little session. I'd call that a success."
"It's something, at least. I'll need to do it for more than a few seconds in a real fight," Jaune remarked, clearly still unsatisfied. "How are you doing, by the way? I know the others bombarded you pretty hard with questions."
Somehow, Mordred felt herself both pale in trauma and grin in glee. "It was… strange. I'm not really used to people being so interested in me. I've never had siblings. My only family before was father, who didn't acknowledge me, and my mother, and the less said about her the better. Your sisters are… kinder than I expected, especially considering the circumstances. Thank you for not telling them about my full past with father."
"Don't mention it," Jaune replied. "Figured that was a bit much to put on them with everything going on right now. Though you know, they're your sisters too. The past is the past. They'd understand."
Mordred raised an eyebrow. "Would you have, if you hadn't seen the Memory Cycle from my point of view?"
"Point taken," Jaune conceded. "But there is a way they wouldn't care. The past is the past, but if you could improve the present—"
"I know where you're going with this, master," Mordred cut him off. "I told you before, changing the past, even to bring back father and your partner, is disrespectful to their choices. Archer may be willing to use his wish to save Taiyang Xiao-Long, but if the man was dead, you can be sure he would be singing a different tune."
"Is there a way you could do both?" Jaune inquired. "Save Taiyang and—"
"You're not listening. So long as the huntsman lives, there is no issue with using the grail to let him keep on living, but bringing back the dead by altering fate is not an option. While the chalice could probably do it, it is unacceptable to alter the choices of others. Besides, they are two different tasks, which requires two different wishes. Even if I were to give up mine, which I won't, it still wouldn't be enough unless you plan to let Salem live."
Jaune frowned sadly. "I know, it's just… Amber and everyone… they're all suffering. I want to help them. I want to be able to fix everything."
"And that's noble of you, master." Mordred comforted him. "But to get what you want no matter what means being willing to cross any line. And that means not caring for those you might hurt along the way. Take it from someone who knows, it would make you a monster, even if your intentions were good."
Jaune looked down at his hands. "I know. I know, it's just… lately it seems like the monsters are the only ones who're winning. Sometimes I don't know how any of us are supposed to win the grail. It doesn't seem like heroes matter at all."
Mordred scowled. She smacked the flat of Crocea Mors, raising the sword to Jaune's eye level. "If heroes didn't matter, this sword wouldn't be here. It's been passed down your family for generations, right? And your partner's gear is a part of it? You wouldn't have a weapon, this weapon, if heroes didn't matter. They made sure you'd have a sword this fine, with this much history, by your side for this fight. Hell, add a bit of will and a whole lot of magic and this thing could practically be a Noble Phantasm."
Jaune quirked an eyebrow. "Is that how Noble Phantasms work? I thought you had to be a Servant to have one."
Mordred gestured to the sheathed Excalibur at her belt. "A Noble Phantasm is the crystallization of a hero's legend. Whether that weapon or hero gains enough power to rise that level has no link to whether they're dead or alive. Father had his sword when he was alive, and I had mine. So did most of the Knights of the Round Table."
"I don't think Crocea Mors can shoot laser beams," Jaune joked.
"Not that I know of." a new voice chimed in.
Mordred and Jaune whirled around to the entrance of the courtyard. Standing there in rugged white armor with a simple, cheap looking sword at his side was a tall, bulky blond man. His shaggy golden beard weighed down his face, giving him an exhausted, yet not unkind air to him. His crystal blue eyes gazed upon Master and Servant likes the soothing waves of a soft ocean.
Mordred recognized him from the family photos. He'd been the one who'd always had an arm around father.
"Dad," Jaune muttered. "I… I didn't know you'd be back so soon."
Nicholas Arc smiled balefully at his son. "Sorry Jaune. I got your letter, but Atlas closed its borders before—"
"I know," Jaune interrupted hesitantly. "Sapphire explained everything."
"Oh. Good, good."
Mordred wasn't exactly sure what she'd expected from her… stepmother? Stepfather? Whatever. Jaune's father was a huntsman, which by default meant he could not be weak, especially so since it appeared he had continued to work even when Jaune had taken his weapon to Beacon. But she'd expected the person who'd won father's heart to be… bolder? More striking, at least. Nicholas Arc looked more like a kicked puppy than a warrior imposing enough to make an impression on the King of Knights.
Then again, what was a man supposed to look like when his wife was dead, and his son had been missing for months fighting a death match for the fate of the world?
The man's gaze shifted to her. He smiled softly. "You must be Mordred. It's nice to meet you. You look just like she said you would."
Mordred blinked at the almost serene greeting. Father had told him about her? "Um… hello… Princess Con… Prince Consort?"
"Saber!" Jaune hissed.
The big blond man chuckled. "Just call me Nic. Or Mr. Arc if you have to be formal."
"Uh, sure, Mr. Arc," Mordred replied unsurely. "Nice to meet you too."
Nicholas nodded. "If it's alright with you, could I borrowed Jaune for a moment. I need to hash some things out with him."
Jaune frowned. "Dad, whatever you need to say to me, you can say to Mor—"
"Nah, it's alright master." Mordred declared. Jaune was being overly defensive after her worry about the past coming out, but she didn't sense any malice in Nicholas' request. He just wanted to talk with his son and, despite his admirable façade, he was unsure how to behave around Mordred.
That was fine. She had no idea how to act around him either.
"I'll keep watch for the others' return," she stated. A moment later, she dissipated into spirit form, leaving father and son to their own devices.
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Jaune gulped as Mordred disappeared. He turned to face his father.
His dad was smiling at him, but the gesture felt weaker than the last time Jaune had seen him, exhausted even. His cheeks sagged, as if his golden sideburns were weights on his face.
"So that's spirit form." he whistled. "Your mother, she mentioned it, but she couldn't do for some reason."
"She told you?" Jaune asked.
"We were married for twenty-five years, Jaune. She told me when she was pregnant with Sapphire. She was worried there might be complications, what with her technically being the spirit of a dead person."
Jaune gulped. "How much did she tell you?"
Nicholas' smile waned. He sat down on the short stone steps that connected the courtyard to the motel and patted the spot next to him. Jaune trudged over. He deactivated Crocea Mors' broadsword mode and returned it to its sheathe before sitting down.
"You upgraded it," Nicholas observed.
"My partner… she… she died at the Fall." Jaune explained. "I know it's a family heirloom and I stole it in the first place, but we still had some of her gear and… and I didn't want to let go."
"Yeah… your mother called before the singles round, mentioned her. Pyrrha Nikos, right?"
Jaune smiled wistfully. "Yeah. She trained me. Believed in me, even when I didn't. Without her, I wouldn't have survived Beacon. She laid the foundation of everything that I am."
Nicholas grinned, for once not tired but proud. "Then I'd say she's more than earned her place on that sword."
Jaune frowned. He unstrapped Crocea Mors from his side and shoved it towards his father. "This is yours. I took it and left you defenseless."
"A huntsman is never defenseless," his father declared. He pushed the sword back into Jaune's hands. "This sword is meant to be passed down through the Arc family from father to son. Let's call your trip to Beacon the beginning of your term."
Jaune gaped at his father. He felt his eyes grow wet. "How? How aren't you angry? I… stole your sword. I ran away in the middle of the night. Mom… mom…"
He didn't get to finish. His father enveloped him in a massive hug.
"You did what you had to do to obtain your dream. You couldn't have known what would happen at Beacon." Nicholas comforted him. "But a man's worth is shown when he is placed in the middle of events he couldn't possibly have predicted. You fought. You fought and with this sword, you survived and made it back to us. I'm proud of you, Jaune. And I know your mother would be too."
Tears streamed down Jaune's face. "I… I wasn't alone. I couldn't have made it alone. I had Mordred, and Ruby, and even Archer… Mom. She wanted me to tell you something, but… but my semblance… it took her power. I don't know what she was going to say! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
He couldn't fix it. He just couldn't fix it. He couldn't help his sisters. He couldn't repair his family. Mordred had been his only chance and she wouldn't help him, probably shouldn't. She knew better than to change fate.
Nicholas pulled Jaune in tighter. For several moments, the two men just sat there, the desperate son crying against the stalwart father.
"Jaune." his dad whispered. "What did she call me? In the end, did she call me Nick or Nicholas?"
"What?" Jaune whimpered. "I… I don't know. She didn't finish. I think… I think she was going to say Nicholas."
Jaune felt a new wetness splash against his cheek. He looked up and saw a soft stream of tears falling from his father's eyes.
"Yeah, that sounds like her," he remarked. "Never could get her to use the stupid nickname."
He wiped the tears from his face and pushed Jaune out to arm's length. He smiled. "Was there anything, anything at all, that you could have done to change that night? To save your mother or your partner?"
"Well… no. But—"
"Then stop kicking yourself. You've still got the rest of your team and your friends. Not to mention your new big brother."
Despite himself, Jaune chuckled. "So, you know about that little quirk?"
"I got the uncensored version of your bedtime stories, kiddo." Nicholas joked. "Your mother may have mentioned the perils of referring to her first child as a woman, along with her experience in the last grail war. She had more than a few nightmares about it. I can't tell you how many times I woke up to shouts of 'Lancelot' or 'Diarmuid'."
"I see," Jaune replied. "You know, Mordred isn't a bad person. She didn't rebel for the hell of it."
"I'm well aware. Your mother was quite insistent that the insurrection was her own failure." his father answered. "She always spoke rather highly of Mordred. Said she needed to stop throwing her sword away in fights, but other than that she was a good knight. Just… one who she failed to guide."
Jaune gaped. His mom… didn't hate Mordred? That was great! She'd be thrilled to hear that! It was great news!
But it meant mom blamed herself. She shouldn't have done that. It wasn't her fault that she'd been raised to be the perfect king and nothing else.
"See?"
Jaune looked up. His father had a light, joking smile on his face.
"You get your tendency to blame yourself from her."
It was a pitiful attempt at lightening the mood, but Jaune managed a chortle.
Nicholas patted him on the back. "Mordred will keep you safe. Just like you'll keep him safe. Neither of you can win this mess alone. If you're together, we'll see the sunrise tomorrow."
Jaune scoffed. "With any luck."
"Jaune."
Both Arc men turned their heads down the hall. A familiar redhead in a pink combat skirt stood before them.
"Nora, hi." Jaune greeted. He gestured to his father. "This is my dad. Dad, this is one of my teammates, Nora Valkyrie."
Nichols sent her a soft smile. "Greetings."
"Oh, you're Mr. Arc?" Nora questioned. "But, you're so… muscular, and Jaune… isn't."
Jaune sighed, but he couldn't help the smirk that came to his lips. Trust Nora to speak her mind.
"What's up?" he inquired. "How did you even get here?"
"We walked, silly," Nora explained. "Ruby sent us a message that you were hanging out here with your family, and since Lionheart's apparently a traitor and the safehouse isn't safe anymore, we came here to meet up."
Jaune sighed, smacking his face into his palm. He doubted they had had many options with their base compromised on such short notice, but did they have to paint a potential target on the place where his family was staying? Oh well. Qrow and Ozpin were old pros at this sort of thing. They definitely knew how to keep their names off motel payments. Even if Headmaster Lionheart was against them, they would be able to avoid his eyes this way.
"Ruby and Yang just got back," Nora told him. "They said they've got some news, and Blake and Sun ran into Weiss in the city. We're meeting in the lounge to figure out our next move."
Jaune's eyes were immediately alert at the mention of Weiss. How had Blake and Sun escaped her? It had taken all of them just to hold her off at Kuroyuri.
No matter. The war wasn't on hold just because he'd reunited with his family. They had to keep going, keep moving forward. Or Salem would annihilate them all.
"I'll be there soon," he replied.
Nora gave him a thumb's up. "Great! Tell Mor-Mor I brought snacks."
With that, the excitable huntress dashed down the hall.
Jaune sighed and turned to his dad. "I'm sorry, I can't talk more. Maybe you can sit in on the meeting, fill in any details we miss?"
His dad didn't respond. Indeed, his eyebrow was cocked in confusion.
"Your brother lets her call him Mor-Mor?"
Jaune opened his mouth to respond, but in the end, found he couldn't. Not like he knew how that weirdness had come about.
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Ruby's head fell into her hands. "Well, this has gone from bad to worse."
Everyone had gathered in the motel common room to figure out their next move, with Mr. Arc listening in to provide more information of the state of things in Mistral. The sisters, thankfully, were absent preparing for bed. After the day she'd had, Ruby honestly wished she could join them.
"Perhaps not, Ms. Rose," Ozpin mentioned, his hand rising to scratch Oscar's chin in thought. "True, many of our enemies are in one place, but we are not without advantages. Though Leonardo has turned against us, he does not know that we are aware of his treachery."
"Headmaster Lionheart…" Sun muttered, his blue eyes staring blankly at his hands. "I just… I can't believe it. He works for Salem. He was always so nice. Even when I stole from the school store, he just gave me a detention."
Ruby felt for her friend. To her, Lionheart was just a name she'd heard thrown around by Uncle Qrow and dad when they were reminiscing about their glory days. He was muttered in the same breath as Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch and held the same status as a vague legend.
But to Sun, Lionheart was his headmaster, his teacher. It'd be like if she learned that Uncle Qrow was actually a serial killer. She couldn't imagine what the poor boy was going through.
Qrow sighed. "I don't like it either, kid, but too much lines up. Leo missed multiple check-ins before the Fall went down. Cinder and Kirei infiltrated Beacon through Haven. You yourself said you'd never seen them before the Vytal Festival. How could a headmaster miss four students who'd never attended a single class suddenly showing up fighting for his school on worldwide tv?"
Sun shook his head in disbelief. Blake put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Ozpin turned to Mr. Arc. "Nicholas, how many huntsmen do you think we could secure without Leonardo noticing? We'll need assistance dealing with him and any other associates Salem may have overseeing him."
Mr. Arc raised an eyebrow. "You're Merlin, right? Most powerful wizard who ever lived?"
"Well not quite, the King of Magic is my superior if only by a slight margin." Ozpin shook his head and sighed. "But, yes, Nicholas. I am Merlin, among others. I assume Arthur informed you of our history."
"Mentioned you gave her a penis for a night." Nicholas quipped. "Compared to that, I suppose possessing a farm boy isn't too much of a stretch."
"I didn't… huh. I did not choose this curse. If I could keep Oscar safe from this fight, I would. But even if I tried to do nothing, Salem would stop at nothing to track down my newest reincarnation." Ozpin explained. "Also, the penis plan seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Speaking as the result of said plan, it wasn't." Mordred snarked. She accepted a ball of cookie dough from Nora and took a highly emphasized bite.
Mr. Arc chuckled at Ozpin's frown. "Apologies for any offense. Arturia cursed you a lot, but she did have quite a few good things to say."
Ozpin blinked in shock. A regretful frown crossed his face. "I wish I could have earned them."
Nicholas gave the old wizard a pitying look. "I don't know how many huntsmen you'll actually be able to find. The Council's been going crazy with extermination missions lately. I'm not sure the kingdom actually has enough lien to pay out all the rewards they're offering. I think I'm the only huntsman who's even been in the city for the last week."
"Oh, come on, there's got to be someone else," Yang said. "I mean, not all huntsmen are in it for the money or the job. There's got to be at least one who felt like laying low after the Fall."
Iskandar raised an eyebrow. "Why would cowards like that agree to help us?"
"I'm just spitballing here."
"If anyone did stay back, they're laying real low," Nicholas stated. "I've had my pick of investigative missions since we got here. Anyone who didn't want to fight Grimm would be swiping those up."
Qrow growled. "Leo has access to intel for every mission a huntsman accepts. He'd know exactly where they were going, their rendezvous points, everything. If he told Salem…"
"Then every huntsman in Mistral could be dead." Archer finished. "Our enemy isn't leaving anything to chance."
"No, they're not." Blake agreed. "Weiss… she mentioned something during our talk."
Ruby shuddered. She'd been horrified that Blake and Sun had encountered Weiss and Lancer Alter. With no one else around, she could have killed either of them on the merest of whims and the others would have never known. They were lucky to get out alive.
Though, Weiss' new resolution terrified Ruby. While she was glad her partner no longer wanted to kill her, her new goal of creating Team RWBY Alter was in some ways even more disturbing, as were the implications of what she planned to do to those she saw as having 'deceived' them. Even if they would survive whatever apocalypse Salem would bring about, it wasn't a happy ending Ruby was willing to allow. She couldn't allow Yang or Blake to be twisted like Weiss had been.
"What did she say, Miss Belladonna?" Ozpin inquired. "Did she give you a clue at Salem's next move?"
"I don't know," Blake confessed. "But, she mentioned something. About the White Fang. She said that soon they would kneel before Salem or be destroyed. I think they're the next target."
"And whoever they send is going to run right into Lancer and his master." Mordred finished. "That bastard was strong, but he won't be able to win against someone as powerful as Lancer Alter."
"Which means at best, Salem will be one step closer to the grail," Jaune noted. "Or at worst, she could take the guy and turn him into another Alter."
"We can't let that happen." Nora declared. "Sure, Lancer nearly killed Mor-Mor, but he wasn't a jerk about it. He could have gone right through us when she was down, but he didn't. He doesn't deserve to be turned into one of Salem's mooks. We need to get to him first and make sure that Mor-Mor gets her rematch!"
Mordred grinned. "I don't know how you do it, my lady, but every time you open your mouth I find myself loving you even more."
"Aw, thanks Mor-Mor! But my heart belongs to another."
Mordred looked to Ren and grinned. "I kind of figured that."
The green-robed huntsman suddenly looked very awkward.
Blake gazed up at the others. "I think… I think there might be another way. If Adam sees Salem's forces, he might be willing to put his objections aside and ally with us to defeat her and Kirei."
Ren cocked an eyebrow. "He didn't believe you at Oniyuri. And even if he sees some proof of Salem, how do you know he won't choose to ally with her instead of us. He did work with Cinder and Kirei during the Fall."
"Cinder threatened his men." Blake reminded them. "I don't know if Adam will stay on our side after we deal with Salem, in fact, I'm positive he won't, but he doesn't want the world to end any more than the rest of us. Besides, Lancer is a knight, he will probably argue for working with us against the bigger threats."
Ruby frowned at the argument. It made sense, and with their enemies mounting, they needed all the help they could get. Still, aside from Torchwick, the White Fang were the first bad guys she'd ever fought. Blake herself had led the team in investigating them. Now they were going to ask for help from a guy that even Blake admitted was crazy? It was mind-bending.
But, with Salem and Kirei on the prowl, and Gilgamesh having apparently healed from her blast at the Fall, they needed all the Servants they could get. It was like Archer said back at Patch. They needed to make allies, even those they'd normally prefer not to.
"Do it," she commanded. "If you think you can convince Adam to work with us, do it."
Blake nodded. "The White Fang's Mistral headquarters isn't too far from the city. With Rider's chariot, we can leave at dawn and be there by the afternoon."
"You shouldn't go alone." Jaune mentioned.
"She won't be." Sun declared. "Me and Yang will keep her safe." He turned to Ruby's sister. "I'm guessing Rider isn't going anywhere without you?"
Yang smirked. "You guessed right. No way I'm letting my partner smack her ex around without me at least manning the getaway… chariot."
"That might not be enough." Jaune noted. "If Lancer Alter is there, Rider alone might not be enough. Ruby and Archer should go with you as well."
"That would be unwise." Archer declared. "Gilgamesh is in the city. If he tracks us down and learns of your family, he will not hesitate to try to eliminate them."
"Wait, what?" Nicholas cried. "Why the hell would he do that?"
Archer looked at Mr. Arc with, not anger, but longing. Ruby understood his feelings. If he were to have any other life, the one Nicholas had lived with Arturia would be at the top of that list.
"He has an unhealthy sense of entitlement towards your wife."
Jaune scowled. "If I leave you alone with—"
"For gods' sake, no. I'm not doing that. It would be just as disgusting for me."
Mordred glared at Archer, her arms crossed over her chest. "I can protect them just fine."
"Not against Gilgamesh." Archer reminded them. "Mordred, I've seen your father fight him. The King of Knights could only prevail with Avalon at full power. Otherwise, she was annihilated. Please, swallow your pride. You cannot beat him."
The Knight of Treachery growled and looked away. Ruby recognized her 'I know you're right, but I'm never going to admit it' look.
Fortunately, Jaune was a little less stubborn on that account. "Alright. I'm trusting you with my family, Archer. Don't let me down."
"I will protect them with my life."
Ruby could tell he meant it.
Jaune nodded and turned to Blake. "Yang's going to wait with the getaway, but I don't think Saber and I will be much use on that front. Will me going in be a problem, since, you know, not a faunus."
Blake shot him a wry smirk. "We're not exactly going to be going in the front door. The base is full of hidden tunnels and secret passages. And I know where they all are."
Nora raised an eyebrow. "You know all the secret passages… in a terrorist base?"
"Adam and I did a lot of exploring when we were little."
Yang grinned mischievously. "I'm sure you did."
"It was before… Uh. You can go back to being in a coma anytime now."
"Ha!"
Ruby smiled. It was good to know Yang had recovered enough to be able to joke about her previous condition. And it was doubly good to know she and her partner were back to their old teasing routine. It wasn't perfect, but it proved that some spirit of Team RWBY was still alive.
But the talk of Adam Taurus brought to mind his Servant. If Archer's theory was correct, and a good chunk of the Servants summoned for this war were also from the Fourth War, then maybe Rider could identify him.
"Mordred, how would you describe Lancer?"
The blonde shrugged. "Annoying. But, he was knight through and through, talked about honor a whole lot. He had two spears, a long red one, and a shorter one. I think it was gold? I blacked out at the end of the fight. Oh, and he said he had some unfinished business with father."
"Hmm…" Rider hummed. "Did he have a mole under his right eye?"
Blake blushed. "Yes."
"Ah. That sounds like the Lancer of the Fourth War."
Mordred's eyes widened. "Are you serious? Who is he?"
"No idea. I never learned his name." Rider informed him. "Though I did observe his Noble Phantasm. Those two spears, the red one bypasses and destroys magic and the gold one inflicts wounds that can't be healed. Saber was struck by that one early on."
Mordred grinned. "And beat him anyway, right? Father wouldn't let such a handicap stop him."
"Not exactly." Rider confessed. "While I don't know how Lancer eventually died, he himself destroyed his spear to remove the curse from Saber. We were fighting a giant tentacle demon that was going to destroy the city and we needed Saber's Noble Phantasm to beat it. He sacrificed his advantage to save the innocents of the city."
"Oh," Mordred remarked. She crossed her arms and scowled inward. "That's… neat."
Blake smiled. "Lancer is a good person. I think he will help us get Adam to see reason."
Ozpin narrowed his eyes at Blake. "A mole under the right eye… Miss Belladonna, Miss Valkyrie, have you felt any different since your encounter with Lancer?"
Blake's eyes went wide. "Wha… What do you mean?"
"Have you had any excessive thoughts of Lancer? Perhaps praising his character or his looks?"
Nora cocked an eyebrow. "Why would we do that? I mean, sure that Lancer guy was handsome and if I had to choose someone to kill me I guess he wouldn't be so bad but come on. Ren is like, ten times more good looking."
Everyone looked at Blake. She turned away.
"I don't know why," she admitted. "I've tried not, but I just can't stop."
"Blake?" Sun whimpered.
Ozpin frowned. "Diarmuid Ua Duibhne."
"Ah." Iskandar nodded. "Yes, that makes sense."
Mordred tilted her head. "Which Irish lancer is that?"
"The one with the curse that makes women fall in love," Archer explained.
"So, you?"
Ruby was sure there were some very interesting barbs being thrown around in the conversation, but she was stuck trying to figure out what the heck it meant to be Irish.
"A curse." Blake muttered. Her face was set in a frown. "I knew it had to be artificial, but to think he cursed—"
"He has no control over it." Ozpin informed her. "It is a curse meant for him, and in life it led to his death. If he does become our ally, I can devise a charm to keep it from affecting anyone else. But the influence it already has over you, and potentially expand with time, that will take much longer to purge."
"Wait, but if this thing is a curse, why hasn't it affected me at all?" Nora questioned.
Ozpin smiled at her. "There is some truth to fairy tales. One, in particular, is true love's use as a deterrent against curses."
Nora's face went stark white. She and Ren glanced at each other and then immediately looked away.
Ruby sighed. Good grief. And she'd thought Jaune and Pyrrha had had problems.
Yang cleared her throat. "So, aside from that, are we all set?"
Qrow nodded. "You guys head out to White Fang HQ while we stay back and hold the fort until you hopefully come back with allies."
"Get some rest, everyone," Ozpin ordered. "We move out at dawn."
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Mordred smiled as she overlooked her sleeping master. Despite the danger he was in, Jaune Arc couldn't help but sleep as he always had. Which meant he was zipped up tight in a pastel blue onesie.
She quite didn't understand why that fact was as funny as Nora seemed to believe it to be, but she couldn't deny the smile that flashed across her face.
Confident the immediate room was secure, she closed her eyes and threw out the rest of her supernaturally enhanced senses. Archer and Rider kept watch at the motel's perimeter, the both of them better suited for facing enemies at range or quickly running them down. If anyone managed to get past them, it would be up to her to annihilate them in close quarters.
"Amber, sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Why did mom leave?"
Mordred blinked in confusion. She should not have overheard that. She should just leave it alone. There was nothing she could do to help.
Still, she somehow found herself dissipating into spirit form and floating right outside Amber's room. She peeked through the door cracks and spied Nicholas Arc tucking his youngest into bed.
The huntsman smiled. "Your mother didn't want to leave, sweetie. She just had to. She had to keep your brother safe and make sure he could come back to us."
"I know that," Amber grumbled miserably. "But why didn't she come back with him?"
Nicholas sighed. "Sometimes… sometimes things come up, things that can't be avoided. Things that force people to stay away."
"But nothing can force mom to do anything she didn't want to!" Amber protested. "Mom was—is invincible!"
A soft smile graced Nicholas' face. "I wish that were so. But the truth is Amber, no one is invincible. Eventually, no matter how much someone wants to stay, there is going to come a time when they have to go away and never come back. It's a part of life."
"It's a stupid part of life." Amber disgruntledly declared.
"No arguments there, sweetie." Nicholas kissed his little girl on the forehead. "But, I want you to know, your sisters, your brothers, they're not going to be leaving forever for a long time."
"What about you, daddy?"
Nicholas' smile faltered for a moment. He gazed lovingly on his youngest. "I'm still here. Get some sleep, Amber."
"Okay." Amber closed her eyes and shifted onto her side. "I love you, daddy."
"Daddy loves you too, sweetie."
Nicholas flicked off the light and walked out of the room. As soon as he shut the door, he let out a massive sigh, his shoulders sagging with weight. He trudged through the motel to the courtyard, leaning on the wall the entire way. Against her better judgment, Mordred followed him.
The shattered moon shined beams of broken light down on the tranquil grass of the courtyard. The Arc patriarch sunk down to the ground and stared blankly at the glistening foliage.
"You know, I thought I had died when I first saw her," Nicholas remarked. "The last thing I'd seen before I blacked out was a swarm of Deathstalkers moving in for the kill. Then I woke up and saw the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen wearing the most stunning armor I could have ever imagined. I thought she was an angel, come down to take me to heaven. Ha! Ironic, I suppose. Her dying before me."
Silence reigned throughout the courtyard, not even a cricket daring to chirp.
Nicholas sighed. "Please come out, Mordred. I don't want to talk to air."
Mordred's nonexistent eyes widened. She materialized a few feet behind him. "How did you know I was there?"
"I didn't." the huntsman admitted. "I just hoped you were here. Days like this… I'm not good at being alone."
Mordred nodded. Made sense. He was lucky she'd been there. She'd known many who took the death of their loved ones poorly. She still remembered Gawain's howls of rage after Lancelot slew his kin to save the Queen.
"Thank you, by the way. For getting Jaune back to us," he told her. "If he hadn't gotten out of Beacon…"
"You wouldn't have done it," Mordred stated boldly, knowing exactly what dark place his thoughts strayed to. "I haven't known you long, but I don't believe you capable of abandoning the rest of your family like that. You wouldn't let your pain take you from your children."
Nicholas smirked. "She regretted it, you know?"
"What?"
"How things went down with you, back in your time." he elaborated. "Arturia had a lot of things she wished she had done better with, but not knowing how to help you was one of the big ones."
Mordred frowned. "He had nothing to regret. Father was everything he needed to be. The perfect king."
Every moment of every hour of every day, even in the heart of her rebellion, Mordred never believed for a moment that there could be a better king than King Arthur. She had been determined to surpass him, but she'd had no doubt of the colossal road ahead of her. He was perfect after all, always just, always right, never allowing his emotions to cloud his dedication to the law. Always with a stoic frown on his face.
She'd loved that frown once, adored its inhuman grace. She'd been a homunculus, isolated from humans by her own nature, balefully watching other children play in the street while she slinked through alleys. She didn't grow up like the Arc siblings, though she'd longed so desperately for what they had, to have a parent tuck her in at night. To smile down and tell her everything would be okay. But her mother had not cared enough to gift her that comfort and with her mystical nature, her childhood was over in a smattering of years.
And the children she'd watched playing in the streets? They were still children, still bright and innocent and happy and oh so very human.
And she wasn't.
But neither was he. He couldn't have been human. He was the king. He was perfect.
And if he was perfect, couldn't she be perfect too?
Couldn't they be perfect together?
When she'd learned he was her father, everything had made sense. She was inhuman because he was inhuman. She was made in his image. For the first time she could remember, she wasn't alone.
She'd smiled.
But he hadn't.
She couldn't make him smile. All her power, all her magnificent talent and endless devotion, and she couldn't make him smile.
But they could. She'd seen the pictures. The Arcs had helped him to smile. They'd done what she couldn't. They'd gotten the king to smile.
"How?" she muttered desperately. Nicholas whirled towards her. "How'd you get the king to smile?"
Mr. Arc smiled sadly, a look of reminiscence on his face. "She wasn't a king anymore. She didn't want to be, and I didn't want to force her to. When we met, we both needed a partner. We stuck together and just… lived I guess. When your siblings came along… that's when the smiles really started."
"He wasn't… he wasn't a king anymore?" A wide grin she didn't entirely understand broke out across Mordred's face. "Ha! I knew that was the way! I knew he'd be happy if he wasn't king any—"
Mordred's heart stopped. Something, some unknown force, clicked in her mind.
She saw herself stepping before the Sword of Selection, the legendary stone standing as an immovable island in a sea of golden wheat. She saw the wizard, the real wizard, with unseemly hair as pure white as his hooded cloak.
And she saw father. She saw him, young and hopeful, grip the blade. She heard the wizard's warning, that to be king was to sacrifice one's happiness for the good of all others. She heard father acknowledge his words and draw the sword nonetheless. She saw his smile die.
And she longed so badly to see it revived.
"I remember," she whispered reverently. "I remember why I rebelled. I remember my wish. I didn't want the throne for power. I just wanted father to smile."
A tear dribbled down her eye. "I'm not a monster."
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "What? Where'd you get a silly idea like that?"
Mordred chuckled and wiped the moisture from her face. "I was thinking too much. I really need to stop that. I mean, last time I did, I decided that starting a civil war was the best way to get father to take it easy."
That's what it was. Her rebellion, her desire for the throne, none of it was out of a thirst for power, or even a misguided desperation to supplant her father. It had all been for him, to try to give him back even a fraction of the happiness he'd sought to bring to others. She'd wanted him to accept her with a smile on his face, but if he couldn't recognize a witch's creation, at least she could ensure he knew joy.
But how could he when she didn't see herself as anything else? Even with her good intentions, she'd fled into the mask of Morgana's pawn to do what she'd thought needed to be done. She'd dedicated herself to being a pale imitation in hopes that the original could know peace through her.
But no matter how much she may have wished it, she was not King Arthur. She would never be King Arthur.
But she would be Mordred. And there was nobody better at that.
She unbuckled Avalon and Excalibur from her side. She held it out to her stepfather.
Nicholas' eyes widened. "I can't take that."
"Sure, you can," Mordred teased. "Besides, it doesn't work for me."
"It doesn't for me either." he protested. "This is all you have left of her. I can't take it from you."
Mordred shrugged. "I've got a sword. You don't, at least not one worth having. Besides, I think I could use some time away from it. I'm my own person, I can't compare myself to him."
Nicholas hesitated another moment, but in the end, he gripped the holy sheathe. "Thank you."
Mordred nodded. The two kept still in companionable silence. They watched the solemn grass of the courtyard drip dew in the night air.
"Mordred, you know, you're always welcome with us." Nicholas declared. "You're part of this family too."
The Knight of Treachery smiled. "Thank you, Nick. I'm grateful, more than you know. But it's best not to get your hopes up. No matter how this war goes, I'm not going to be here for much longer."
"What do you mean?"
"Didn't father tell you?" Mordred chuckled. "We Heroic Spirits, we aren't made to last after the war. No matter how great our legend, in the end we're all dead. We've lived our lives, however bright, however brief. We're here to help the living shape the present, not take it into our own hands."
"Couldn't you stay to help your sisters shape their futures then?" Nicholas asked. "I understand changing the past to save Arturia is out of the question, but maybe… maybe the girls would be able to move on if you were there to help them. They already love you, and I know you care about them. Arturia told me about the King of Conquerors' wish from the Fourth War. The grail can incarnate you."
"Well, yes, but I… I…"
Mordred found her tongue-tied. He knew her mistakes, every one of them. He'd heard her renounce her connection to the King of Knights. And yet, he was still inviting her to live with him, to be a part of his family. With the girls, with Jaune.
He wanted her to be around. For her.
Could she do that? Could she… steal father's family like that?
But, weren't they her family as well?
Nicholas stood up and patted her on the shoulder. "I didn't mean to shock you like that. If there's something else you need to do with the grail, I wish you the best in getting it. But, just so you know, the door is always open. Good night, Mordred."
"Good night, Nick," Mordred muttered absently.
Nicholas nodded and strode down the hall to his room, Excalibur and Avalon at his side.
Mordred just stood there, her mind whirling with thought.
And… hope?
This wish… it could be her chance to have the life she'd always wanted, to never be alone again. It wasn't like she could wish for the Sword of Selection, she knew from Excalibur that she wouldn't be able to succeed. Besides, she'd seen that father had found happiness already. In this world. With this family. As an Arc.
Could she do the same as Mordred?
She conjured Clarent into her hand, crimson sparks jetting off of the gray steel blade. Her sword. Her weapon that she'd stolen from the vaults of Camelot, a symbol of the rightful king. The holy instrument turned demonic by her treachery and hatred for her father. In that way, she had made it truly hers, forged and shaped exactly to her spirit.
Perhaps, with a little more time, a little more peace, it could turn into something she could truly be proud of.
Remnant seemed as good a place as any for Mordred Pendragon to live a second life.
Well, Nicholas seems to have been quite helpful.
I enjoyed having Papa Arc call back to his first meeting with Arturia, even if seeing him reduced as he is now feels like a kick to the nether regions. I imagine it's a similar situation to what Taiyang went through with Summer's death, going from the bubbly awesome dad to a man that is trying his best but dealing with his own issues.
The gang's next destination is set. They can't allow Salem to get any more powerful by recruiting the White Fang to her side, so a strike team is going to head in and hopefully save everyone. But we all know how often that happens.
Well, at least Mordred has gotten a bit more sure of herself. She has finally remembered the true purpose of her wish just as she did at the end of Apocrypha and through it has gained some peace of mind in herself, enough even to let go of her father's Noble Phantasms. But now her wish has begun to change, still something selfish, but like the others, it is easily understandable. But like all of the wishes, it assumes she survives the war.
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Go Forth and Conquer!
