Chapter 6: Birds Of The Gwen
Tai was certain of one thing: he was not welcome here.
The bandits had not made their hostility explicit - they had stood by calmly, almost amicably, as Thoron Branwen had led the two of them through the main camp, pointing out the clusters of tents, the eatery, and of course the chief's abode.
A couple of the older tribesmen, who apparently knew Raven from childhood, sat down to talk with them during dinner. And they had been given one of the largest tents in the entire camp, whose original owners had graciously moved out into several smaller ones at Thoron's request.
Even so, Tai was a Huntsman. He had been trained to detect malice where it existed - and it was here, in such large amounts he was afraid he'd choke. Every glance they snuck at him, he could sense the anger in their eyes. Why are you here? They seemed to ask. Everything would be better if you left...or weren't here to begin with.
In the evening, as he and Raven had settled into their tent, Tai had glanced outside, where he saw Fenrir and the chief talking at the camp's gate. Their colossal figures were bathed in the dying sunlight, creating monolithic, ominous shadows on the ground. Tai shuddered at the sight of it.
"I'm sorry - I know you meant well, Fenrir," Thoron said, not unkindly. "But a deal is still a deal - and you failed to uphold your end of the bargain. But as thanks for returning Raven to me, we'll allow you to leave our camp in peace."
"Am I truly not welcome here?" Fenrir did not sound particularly hurt, or even surprised.
"Sadly, no," the chief replied. "I know my brother has his little fangs in you, and I'm afraid I can't risk that - no matter how good your intentions are."
Fenrir Branwen hung his head. "My deepest apologies. If I had only killed Luka when I had the chance - "
"No, you can't blame yourself. He's a crafty one, he is - but not crafty enough. Once this is over and done with, I'll track down my weasel of a brother and kill him - along with his little devil of a kid. Then, I promise you, you'll be free to rejoin us." Chief Thoron smiled at his nephew. "Please look forward to it, Fenrir."
Fenrir bowed. "...Thank you. From the bottom of my heart, I give you my gratitude." With that, he turned and walked out, beyond the gate. With a deep sigh, Thoron had departed in the opposite direction, toward his own tent.
Raven was staring at her father, a longing look on her face. "You okay?" Tai asked her, and immediately felt stupid. What kind of a question is that? Of course she's happy! After years of believing her beloved father was dead, here he was, right in front of her. And the chief had treated her with all the kindness one could expect from a parent. It was easy to forget that Thoron was also a powerful bandit and warlord.
It took a moment for Raven's reply to come. "...Yes, I'm alright," she murmured, and Tai found himself doing a double take. A few seconds of awkward silence followed as he contemplated just how warm Raven had sounded as she'd spoken. Even during all their time as part of Team STRQ, there had always been just a tinge of coldness in everything the dark Huntress had said, whether she meant it or not. But now...it was simply gone, as if it had never been there.
"I'm sorry - I'm sure it's very awkward for you." She smiled at him - again, with that same warmth Tai had never quite seen before. "Back when we first met, I don't think you could have imagined this is how you'd be meeting my family….still, this is nice, isn't it?" Even her normally formal speech had adopted a more conversational tone.
This change in Raven's attitude made Tai happy of course...but it also just felt wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't help but feel a slight discomfort in the pit of his chest - mild, but persistent enough that it kept eating away at him, leaving him more and more worried. But worried about what?
That was also a stupid question. Family or not, they were now smack dab in the middle of a bandit camp. Lawless, murderous bandits, who no doubt had had multiple violent clashes with Huntsmen in the past. It wouldn't surprise him if some of them had Huntsman blood on their hands, or had lost loved ones to Huntsmen (in which case, he really couldn't bring himself to feel any sympathy).
Raven, at least, had connections here. But he, Tai, might as well have walked straight into a minefield. One wrong move, and everything would be blown straight to hell.
This was a mistake. I know it. He desperately, more than anything else right now, wanted to leave this place. But how could he, when Raven seemed to be having the time of her life? He didn't want to be separated from her, but he also knew he couldn't persuade her to leave.
Which meant all he could do for now was grin and bear it. Chief Thoron had promised to formally meet with the two of them the next day. One night. I just have to spend one night hoping no one slits my throat while I sleep.
"What's wrong, Tai?" She seemed to notice the sullen expression on the blonde warrior's face. "You're not feeling unwell, are you?"
"N-no," he replied. "It's just...you're right. This is all a bit scary. Look, I'm really glad that this is all making you so happy - seriously, it makes me happy too! It's just, well…"
"Well, what?"
"Well, they're bandits!" Tai couldn't keep his concerns bottled up any longer. "Criminals! Outlaws! No offense, Rae, but these are the exact type of people we were warned about during our training! Humans committing evil are just as - if not more - dangerous as creatures of Grimm! I know they're your family, but-"
Raven's eyes flashed scarlet, and instinctively Tai felt himself jumping back a was a fire in there, one he only saw when she was truly angry. She really does have her dad's eyes, he realized.
"But what?" She hissed. "Perhaps you don't understand, Tai, but I spent so much of my life wanting to avenge these people! I thought they were gone, and I'd never see them again. But now, I finally have the chance to make up for all those lost years. Not just my father, but all the people I grew up with."
Calming down a bit, she shook her head sadly. "That's what I'll always see them as, Tai - my family. I'm sure that you're right, and they've done terrible things in the past, to Huntsmen, to people who have done nothing wrong, but I can't change how I feel!" Raven hung her head, in a rare moment of vulnerability.
Tai stared at her, still shocked at her sudden outburst. Any animosity or distrust he might have felt was gone in an instant. Now, all he felt was shame for making her feel this way. Was it not his duty as her partner - her significant other - to preserve her happiness?
I'm sorry, Raven. He resolved to set aside his doubts for now. If Raven trusted the bandits and was happy to be around them, then that was good enough for him. Tai put a comforting arm around her shoulder. "Well, they're not the only ones here," he said. "You've got me, too. And I'd like to learn a little more about your family, if they'll allow it."
She looked up at him in surprise. After a moment, she smiled - a genuine smile, one that didn't leave a silent pit of discomfort in his stomach. "...Yes," she finally replied. "I really think they will. Thank you, Tai." She accepted his gesture of affection.
Night fell without event. Tai held Raven as closely as he could, all his concerns forgotten - at least for the moment.
When the morning came, Tai awoke to find the searing rays of sunlight blazing into his eyes. "Augh!" he yelled, momentarily blinded as he stumbled around on the sheets. His first thought was amazement that he could have stayed asleep so long when everything was so bright. His second thought was wondering, very briefly, just where the hell he was. This doesn't feel like home…
He winced at how foreign and uncomfortable the surface felt beneath his rear, and remembered where he was. Right. Smack dab in the middle of a bandit camp. In that one moment, all of his fear came rushing back in an unwelcome typhoon of panic. At the very least, he was still alive, so that was already a good start.
Tai looked to his left, and saw that Raven had already left. That made things significantly less good, as he was quite sure the bandits wouldn't have been nearly as nice to him if she hadn't been right next to him the whole time. If he were to leave the tent and search for her, Tai would be wandering, alone and unarmed (not that he needed weapons anyway), through a camp of vicious killers.
But it wasn't like he could just stay here, either. It was his duty, as a boyfriend, to check up on her and be at her side. And he was fairly certain he knew where she might have gone to. She could have at least woken me up before she left… He found that thought a tad worrying, but couldn't quite put his finger on why.
In any case, he quickly dressed himself and got to his feet. Letting out a huge yawn that he prayed wouldn't be overheard, he allowed himself a moment to stretch his arms before pulling open the tent door and stepping directly into the sunlight. "Ugh…" It was much, much brighter when he was actually outside, and he spent a good few moments just blinking rapidly, his eyes adjusting to the light.
"Huntsman." A growling voice came from his left, and Tai turned to see a pair of bandits standing at an uncomfortably close distance to him. Seeing that they were a man and woman, and the female was noticeably pregnant, he assumed they were a married couple (or whatever the hell passed for marriage here).
Tai shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Um. Hi." Real smooth. Last thing you want is to make these people think you're weak. He certainly felt rather weak - what hadn't helped was the bandit saying his profession with as much vitriol as a Huntsman might say "Grimm."
"Lady Raven - your...comrade - is currently in the chief's abode," the man said emotionlessly, though his gaze betrayed how he felt. "He has invited you to join them, if you can find your way."
That last sentence was spoken almost like a taunt. Tai wondered if Thoron Branwen had actually phrased it in that manner. In any case, it irritated him enough that he felt his strength returning. "...Thanks," he muttered, and made his way toward the chief's tent. He cast a couple glances backward, just to make sure he wasn't being followed.
By some miracle, he reached his destination without anything horrible happening to him. Two armored men with spears stood at the entrance to the chief's home, and they paused for far longer than Tai was comfortable with before stepping aside, granting him passage.
The inside of the main tent was, if it was even possible, even more garish than the rest of the camp. The whole thing looked like a 'Temple of Evil' that he'd seen in those terrible horror films - the sort of place where the cackling, skeletal villain sacrificed young girls to the devil or something.
Father and daughter sat in the middle of the room, appearing to be in the middle of a conversation. When he entered, both of them turned their gazes to him in surprise. "Tai?" Raven said. "Ah, my apologies for not waking you up...I thought it was too early for you."
"...So you finally decided to join us, Taiyang." Chief Thoron was smiling at him, but Tai saw no friendliness in his gaze. The man looked as imposing and grand - in an almost inhuman way - as he had when Tai had first seen him. "I'm sure you have plenty of questions for us, and I'm sorry you already had to wait so long…"
"N-no," Tai muttered, feeling the need to bow for some reason. "Uhh...I do have some things I'd like to ask, but I'm afraid nothing's really coming to me at the moment…"
Thoron's smile didn't change a bit. "And that's perfectly understandable, given your position. If you want, we can go on a little hunt right now, to clear your head. And it would a great chance for the two of us to bond, man-to-man, mm?"
"Uh…" Tai's glance moved to the crimson, throne-line chair sitting in the back of the tent. Leaning next to it was what he assumed was the chief's weapon - an enormous war hammer with a head as black as obsidian. Just looking at its sheer size, he felt it would take ten men to lift it.
Needless to say, imagining Thoron swinging that...thing, in close proximity to him was making him feel queasy. "No...no thanks," he replied, realizing his voice was barely a whimper. Unfortunately, the chief seemed to notice. His smile widened.
"Well, that's a shame," he said. His voice had become softer, which didn't make it less menacing in the slightest. "At any rate, I'll answer one thing I'm sure you've been wondering with all your being, Taiyang."
Tai looked up in surprise. "Huh?"
"Whatever doubts you have about my daughter's feelings, I hope you can cast them aside once and for all. I might not have known you for long, but I can tell my dear Raven really does love you. That should bring you some comfort, eh?" Thoron beamed at him once again.
"F-Father…" Raven's face was red - a rare sight, indeed.
Tai blinked, and muttered, "Uh...r-right. Thanks, it does." hoping he sounded convincing. He supposed it did comfort him a little, but it really hadn't been on his mind at all. As far as he was concerned, the most important matter was whether these people would gut him the moment they had the chance. And he still didn't have a definitive answer for that.
Thoron laughed - not maliciously, but not good-naturedly, either. "Well, I feel like we've all got a lot of catching up to do. Especially you, pumpkin." He turned to Raven, and raised his eyebrows. "Aw, come on now. This is a happy occasion, there's no need to cry."
Tai followed the chief's gaze. Sure enough, tears were streaming down Raven's face, despite her best efforts to keep them in.
"Anyway, I hope we can get along, Taiyang," Thoron continued, addressing Tai once more. He held out his colossal hand. "Regardless of whether you stay with our tribe or not, I promise that we - the Birds of the Gwen - will treat you with our full courtesy." He smiled - and this smile was slightly different. Tai felt a rush of...familiarity.
"You-" he blurted out.
Thoron frowned, retracting his palm. "Hmm? What about me, kid?"
"Uh...well…" That was a bad move. He couldn't really help it though - it had been a sudden, knee-jerk reaction as he'd realized exactly who Thoron had reminded him of in that moment. That smile, which was genuinely friendly while also concealing mischief underneath, and even his body posture...if anything, it was strange that he hadn't thought of it earlier.
Well, it was too late now. "That look on your face just now," he muttered, feeling a rush of dread for some reason. "It reminded me a bit of her uncle - Luka Branwen."
The aftermath was abrupt and utterly terrifying. Thoron Branwen's scarlet eyes opened wide, and for a moment Tai swore that actual flames burst out within his pupils. His face contorted itself into a frown, then a scowl, and finally a caricature of pure, seething fury. Taking a deep breath with such emphasis that it would have been comedic under other circumstances, the chief slowly stood up, his gaze not once moving from Tai.
"...Where'd you hear that name, boy?" he asked softly. His eyes were stretched until Tai could see the redness on the edges, and he held his gaze without blinking once.
Raven came to his rescue. "I told him," she explained, though she flashed Tai a panicked glance. "He didn't mean anything wrong with that, Father, please don't hold it against him... "
The chief ignored her pleas; his eyes never left Tai. "...And did she tell you about all the grief and despair my dear brother has given me?" he said, almost whispering. He occasionally placed emphasis on certain words, like plunging a spear into wounded prey. "I will not have you so much as think of his name, boy - because I'll know if you do. And when I find out, I'll inflict on you a punishment so utterly excruciating, you'll be begging for the sweet release of-"
Before Thoron could finish his threat, a bandit burst into the chief's tent, panting and out of breath. "Ch-ch-chief," he gasped. Tai recognized him as Canary, the guard that had antagonized them when they'd first arrived. "We've got c-c-company."
"...Company? Of what kind?" The chief frowned, all of his fury seeming to leave him in an instant. His gaze calm once more, he reached for his war hammer. "If it's invaders again, tell them they're in for a world of agony. My patience has been worn thin."
Canary shook his head. "It's not invaders, sir. They say they're not looking for a fight, but they're….they're from…" He gulped. "Two of them. And one of them seems to be, well…" He shot a quick glance at Raven before dropping his gaze to the ground.
"Er...well if they're not hostile, that's a comfort." Thoron sighed, but he grabbed his hammer anyway - lifting the massive object with one hand like it was nothing. "If you're going to keep rambling nonsensically, I'll just go out there and see for myself."
He got up to leave, and at the entrance, he turned back to Raven and Tai. "You can come and see if you want…." Once more, his eyes gleamed menacingly. "And if it becomes a fight, Hunter boy, you'll get a firsthand look at how we operate. Consider it a gift." On that ominous note, he left.
"Let's go," Raven said without hesitation, and Tai agreed. He cast a glance at Canary, who was still shivering like he was pissing his pants. He's young, too…the poor guy probably couldn't fight his way out of a paper bag. Wondering what the hell this chump was doing in a tribe of killers, he followed Raven out of the tent.
When he saw who was standing outside, he nearly pissed his pants himself.
About an hour ago…
The day had come. Qrow wouldn't exactly say he'd been looking forward to it.
Stepping out of the house (which Ozpin had generously rented for him to stay during his time in Mistral), he yawned and stretched out his arms. It was probably better to shake off all his fatigue and stress before the mission - those things would do him no good once he was in the heat of things. Because 'negotiation' or not - things were going to go messy. Of that he had no doubt.
Wiping his still-blurry eyes, he was unsurprised to find Sherwood Bell standing on his porch, cane in hand. He was calmly checking his watch. "Exactly on time," the older Huntsman mused, glancing up at Qrow with approval. "Not bad, friend. Though you look a bit under the weather, if you don't mind me saying."
"It's alright," Qrow grumbled, blinking furiously. "I'll get over it - just give me a minute."
"Scarce resource these days," Sherwood replied. He lowered his head, and when Qrow met his gaze again, he was glancing into the green eyes of Gray Poirpeau. "Actually, I'm afraid you were late by about five milliseconds," he said in a deeper voice. "Now then, dear Qrow - we don't have all day, so let's be off."
Man...what's the deal with these two? Shaking his head, Qrow followed after Poirpeau, wandering through the streets of Mistral without really taking in a thing. All he could focus on was keeping his pounding heart under control. "Calm down," he muttered to himself. It didn't help much.
He tried taking his concerns off his mind. "So Oz isn't coming after all?" He asked a question that he already knew the answer to.
"Indeed," Poirpeau nodded. "The good professor is returning to Vale today - a good choice, if he doesn't want to drown in paperwork in the future. And though he'd never say it, visiting a little camp of vagabonds is hardly the thing a headmaster would bother himself with."
"...Okay." Qrow nodded awkwardly. He tried to think of other conversational topics, and was dismayed to realize he could come up with nothing. Thus, they spent the rest of the journey in a heavy silence.
A part of him hoped it would take them an eternity to reach the entrance of the bandit camp - it was far from the edge of Mistral City, after all. Alas, it felt as though he had barely blinked when he and his companion found themselves in front of those hideous gates, just slightly ajar as if taunting them to enter its depths.
Qrow gulped. Obviously, the gate looked different than it had when the camp had been located in Mantle, but he felt the rush of familiarity all the same. He'd expected that a couple bandits would be standing guard, but there was no one in sight. He wasn't sure if he should take comfort in that.
"How fortunate," Poirpeau chuckled. "And here I was fearing we might be shot on sight. This is our big moment, Qrow - shall we begin?"
He nodded silently. Alright. Time to meet my maker.
They stepped through the gates without another word. Though it felt silly, Qrow could feel a certain change in atmosphere as he passed into the campgrounds - as if there were some lingering, tangible sense of evil hovering over the entire area. It's just me freaking out, he told himself, and forced those thoughts out of his mind.
He almost had a heart attack when his companion put his hands to his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs, "My greetings to you, bandits! Come out where we can see you - you have my word that we are not here to fight!" Qrow's head swerved around to face him in disbelief, mouthing Are you trying to kill us?! with his lips, which had suddenly gone bone dry.
Right on cue, several masked men and women came rushing out of their tents, hastily-assembled guns and blades clutched in their hands. "Who the hell are you?" One of them shouted, who was no doubt glaring daggers at them from under his mask. "Tell us now, if you don't want a fucking bullet in your skulls!"
"My goodness," Poirpeau sighed. "They really are as uncivilized as I've heard. Well, that might actually make things easier." To the band of savage killers that stood before them, he flashed a winning smile. "Have no fear. We are simply here to have a small discussion with your chief. Tell him we're here on behalf of Ozpin, and I'm fairly certain he'll see us."
The bandits began to back away slowly, still wary. "If that persuasion proves ineffective," the Huntsman added, giving Qrow a pat on the back, "You can explain that his son has come to make peace with him. Even he can appreciate a touching family reunion, I'm sure."
All of the bandits turned to face Qrow. After a few moments, they slowly lowered their weapons, which did bring him some small comfort. "What the hell…" one of them muttered. "Another one? Seriously?" Even so, one of them ran off toward the chief's tent, while the others remained at their spots, not once taking their gazes off the Huntsmen.
"...What did you mean by 'another one'?" Qrow asked suspiciously. He glanced over them, but because of the masks, he couldn't tell if he knew any of them.
The remaining bandits didn't answer his question. "Well, you look like Chief Thoron's kid, I guess," a female bandit muttered. "But even so, if you're not who you say you are, we'll tear you apart like any rotten Huntsman."
"You're welcome to try," Qrow shot back. "But your chief is my father, and that means I won't go down easily. I'm sure you've seen him fight, so you know it's true." Snappy remarks always seemed to calm him down during stressful times.
In any case, it worked. Silence fell over the clearing, and the only sound was the rustling of several more bandits exiting their tents, intrigued by the sudden commotion. There really were a lot of them. Qrow began to wonder whether they could really take them all at once, if - no, when - things became violent.
"What the hell is going on here?" came a deep, booming voice from some distance away, a voice with far more impact and self-assurance than any of the other bandits combined. Thoron Branwen walked into view with an irritated scowl on his otherwise handsome face. "What's this I hear about another Huntsman strolling into my home? I'll have none of-"
He stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as he saw Qrow standing in front of him. His jaw slowly dropped, in a manner that was almost comical. "...By the gods," the chief murmured in an utterly awestruck voice. "Have my days been granted the blessings of the Two Brothers themselves…? First my people are given the deal of a lifetime, and now my children have returned to me within a day of each other!"
Thoron turned to his son with a winning smile, flashing his rows of perfect white teeth, an uncommon sight for a bandit. "Qrow, my boy. How long has it been, eh? Must be at least ten years by now - you've grown up to be a fine young man!"
"...Yeah. It's been a while," was about all he could think of to say. Qrow forced himself to smile, trying to make sense of how he felt at this strange reunion. He had been ready to be afraid of his father - he had been afraid, just thinking about it. At the same time, he had braced himself for the inevitable rush of familial love he would feel at the sight of the man who'd raised him, whom he'd believed to be gone forever. He'd even expected to feel just a bit sad that Thoron hadn't been around for the most important days of his son's life.
The way Qrow felt didn't make much sense, but it had nothing to do with any of those feelings. Because as a matter of fact, he didn't feel any of them. He just felt….
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
That man standing in front of him? He was Thoron Branwen, leader of the Branwen clan of bandits, known elsewhere as Birds of Gwendolyn. Dangerous, to be sure, but many men were. More importantly, he was his enemy. And enemies had to be eliminated - one way or another.
My enemy. Internally, Qrow winced, and he actually did feel something - a cold shiver down his spine. Had he really become this detached from his old life? Criminals or not, they were his goddamn family.
No. No they weren't. Not anymore, he thought. It was almost relieving, in a way. Now, they're just another band of killers. Another barrier on the path to peace...so all I have to do is get over it. He opened his mouth, still not sure what exactly to say.
He was saved, however, by the sound of another voice. "What the hell's going on here?" They yelled, saying the exact same thing as the chief had. From Thoron's tent, two all-too-familiar figures emerged, staring at the visitors in amazement. "...Wha-"
"Tai?" Qrow yelled, his mind instantly overrun by amazement and total bewilderment. "A-and Sis, too? I thought you were still in Atlas! What the hell are you guys doing here, of all places?
"I...I could ask you the same thing, Brother," Raven replied, blinking furiously. She looked just as amazed as he was.
"Well, we've had no clue where you were for weeks now!" Tai said. "And, uh, who the hell is that?"
He was pointing at Poirpeau who, for the first time, looked genuinely taken aback. "Mmmm...hmmmm…." he murmured under his breath, gingering scratching his moustache. "I, ah, certainly wasn't expecting to greeted with guests like these. I assume the blonde one's your friend, and the other is most certainly that sister Ozpin's told me much about…"
"...Raven." Qrow addressed his twin. Once the shock of their unexpected reunion wore off, he began to calm down. No, more than that. Not only were his previous concerns fading away, the mere sight of his comrades made him feel a slight, growing warmth in his stomach. "I guess we finally found 'em, huh?" Despite his situation, he was almost smiling as he said it.
"That we did," she replied. "Though I didn't expect it would be quite like this."
Qrow shook his head in disbelief. Raven was certainly right on that front. "So, wait, how exactly did you two find this place? How long-"
He felt Gray Poirpeau's hand firmly grasp his shoulder. "I'm sincerely sorry to break up your family reunion, Qrow," he said gravely. "But we have our objective to complete - save those kind words for later."
His voice indicated quite clearly that he didn't think 'those kind words' were ever going to be spoken, regardless of what happened next. Nevertheless, Qrow forced himself to stop, instead trying to bring the conversation back to its intended topic.
"Chief Thoron," he said, trying his best to sound formal (it just didn't suit him at all, and he soon dropped it). "We're sorry for the intrusion, really, we are. We're only here to talk - about something that you've done - recently, in fact."
Thoron Branwen's eyes narrowed, and whatever warmth had been in there a moment ago vanished completely, replaced by the sheer coldness expected from a man of his reputation. "Is that so? And what exactly are you speaking of, son?"
Son. That got him. Just a little bit, but Qrow felt it.
It was Poirpeau who answered the question. "I believe it might be related to that 'deal of a lifetime' you just mentioned," he suggested. "Am I correct in assuming that that 'deal' was when our dear friend Salem made a bargain with you? To retrieve the Relic of Haven?"
"Wh-wh-wh-" Standing next to the chief, Tai spluttered. "Whaaaaaaat?!" He glanced at Thoron anxiously. "H-hold on a sec...Salem? That scary lady that Harriet works for? That Argent and Onyx were working for? You've met her?"
"Father…" Raven said, her eyes widening. Her expression was unreadable.
For just a second, a peculiar look formed on Thoron's face. Tai and Raven weren't particularly moved by it, as it was the same one he'd given the blonde warrior only a minute ago - that look of pure, unadulterated rage and hatred, that could make one mistake him as a demon rather than a man. However, the two Huntsmen, and even the chief's own men, all instinctively flinched at the sight.
The look passed in a moment, and Thoron stood with his arms open, a nonchalant grin on his stubbled face. "...You're one of Ozpin's folk, eh? You people sure do your research. Yep, it's all true, old sport. I swear, I thought it was too good to be true at first! I get a bunch of artifacts and practically a whole army - stronger than anything poor Fenrir could have salvaged back in Vacuo - to do with as a I please. And all I gotta do in return is tear down a big building and hand over some shiny old rock? It was my greatest dream come true, I can tell you all that!" He threw his head back and let out a long, hearty laugh.
An uncomfortable silence filled the air. Qrow, Tai and Raven all exchanged worried glances. They spoke nothing, but their gazes said everything. Well...that part was easy. Qrow thought glumly. Time for the hard part. Let's see how long it takes for hell to break loose.
As it turned out, it only look a couple minutes.
"I appreciate your honesty and your transparency, Mr. Branwen," said Poirpeau, seemingly without a hint of sarcasm. "And I can somewhat understand your situation, really, I do. We do." He blinked, and his eyes were Sherwood's once more. "Just look at the state of this place," the younger personality's voice tittered. My goodness! Half those tents will be demolished the next time it rains. Oh, and those soldiers you have with you certainly don't look well-fed, hmm? And if that weren't enough-"
With a deep breath, Poirpeau seized control again. "Pardon my other's imprudence," he told the bandits with a smile. "But his point stands - your tribe is in poor shape. It has been for many years now. And you want to ensure its survival - that's all well and good. But siding with the Dark Queen isn't your only option, Mister Chief Thoron."
"Oh?" Thoron's lips curved maliciously. "And I suppose throwing in my lot with your old wizard and his little parlour tricks would be a better choice?"
"That's right," Qrow replied forcefully, speaking as firmly as he could. "Salem wants your help, but do you think she'll just let you go once you've done what she wants? Once you're no longer useful, you'll be hunted down like prey. But the Emerald Order is willing to grant you asylum."
"What are you talking about, Brother?" Raven asked, sounding perplexed.
Gray Poirpeau sighed. "As much as I despise the idea of you criminals escaping unpunished, it is Ozpin's choice," he said reluctantly. "This is your one chance, Thoron Branwen. Renounce the Dark Queen and her poisonous words. Tell us everything she told you, and all you know about her followers. Then, you and your band of...rogues...can seek refuge in our Tower until this conflict has passed."
A part of Qrow had hoped Thoron would consider it, might even hesitate, even for just a moment. But deep down, he wasn't surprised when, before even a moment had passed, the Branwen chief burst out into hysterical, hearty laughter.
"Oh, no," he chuckled. "No, no, no, no. I don't think so, Mr. Ozpin's Right Hand Man. You know, Salem's told me a lot about you folks." He grinned at Qrow, but all the warmth and good humour was gone. "And now you're his buddy, eh? What a shame! We just met for the first time in years, and you've already disappointed me, son!"
Yeah, that hurts me so much, Qrow thought. This time, all he felt was a tinge of annoyance. At least that was a familiar feeling.
"I-I mean," Tai was muttering. "Me and Rae, we're on pretty good terms with Oz, too, so-"
"Mm-mm-mm. That's enough from you, boy." Thoron made a mocking shhhh motion with his finger, and turned back to his son with an earnest look on his face. "I know how much this hurts you, Qrow. You're happy to finally see me, but you don't want to fight me. Please, son. Forget Ozpin and this old clown. Come back to us, and we can be a family once more. We can catch up on everything...bring back those lost days that Luka so cruelly stole from us."
For the second time that day, Thoron Branwen's assessment could not have been more wrong. Despite the man's intimidating stature, Qrow almost felt sorry for him as he stared into his self-assured face, into those eyes that were a mirror image of his.
No. Not quite, he realized. It was a bizarre thing to notice, but the chief's eyes were a slightly brighter shade of red than his own. However, Qrow had, more recently, seen a pair of eyes that were his perfect match. Two of them, actually. They had belonged to Luka and Ragna Branwen.
"Sorry, Dad," he heard himself say. "But this dumpster fire isn't my home. It never was."
Now, Thoron Branwen's smile disappeared completely. In his left hand he held his colossal hammer, casually twirling it around two of his fingers. "Then," he murmured, a scowl forming on his face. "We don't anything more to say, do we, my friends?" Beside him, his men raised their weapons.
At this moment, an explosion rang out...but not in the clearing. "Hmm?" Thoron looked in the sound's direction, confused. "What in the hell?"
"It appears we have trouble," Poirpeau muttered.
Right on cue, a human figure burst out of the trees - a shape Qrow quickly recognized as Crowley Cloake. He held his bow in his hands, and his normally-cheerful face was wrinkled in a look of utter concentration. Without hesitation, he fired off an arrow.
"Urk!" The chief winced as the projectile pierced his shoulder, but he recovered with alarming speed. As his warriors prepared to charge in retaliation, he raised his hands to calm them down. "Well, well, we've got another guest," he grumbled, nonchalantly pulling the arrow out of his flesh.
Crowley didn't answer, and he didn't lower his bow, either. From the forest, two more Huntsmen emerged - a red-headed, roguish man carrying two crimson revolvers, and a tall young woman wielding a lance. "Guys!" he yelled, preparing another arrow. "Watch out! Behind you!"
"Huh?" Turning around, Qrow raised his blade just in time to block a small projectile - a small marble? - from striking him in the head. The little ball flew backwards and came to rest, floating in the air, near a little girl of no more than ten years, who stood shoulder-to-shoulder next to her identical twin.
"Aw, you ruined the surprise party," Caroline Cion said sadly. "You're no fun, arrow-man."
"Well, it's good that we were watching," Corrine Cion chuckled. In her hands was a jade-coloured glaive, pointed straight at the two Huntsmen. "You need to get your eyes checked, 'chief'."
Thoron shrugged. "Guilty. Perhaps I'm having one of my 'off' days." He grinned at Crowley and his friends, rubbing his bleeding shoulder. "Not bad at all...you're fast, kid. You actually got off a hit before I could activate my Aura. Out of respect, I'll make sure you die quick."
"Ha. That's reassuring," Crowley replied, smiling. His focused, serious look from a moment ago was gone. "And it's a good thing I was fast, or this whole thing would've been ruined."
It was around then that the gravity of the situation dawned on Qrow. On their side, he and Poirpeau were one quick movement away from being gutted by two of Salem's enforcers - he didn't even need to think about who these girls were. And on the other side, Crowley and his comrades were facing down Thoron Branwen and a whole tribe of bloodthirsty - and very angry - bandits. If that weren't bad enough, Tai and Raven were wedged right in the middle of their crowd.
Raven, he was sure, was safe. She'd always been the favourite - he could remember that much. No matter what, Thoron would never hurt a hair on her head. But Tai…
"Okay...I'm still a little lost on what's going on," the blonde warrior muttered, raising his fists. "...But I can tell something's gone south when I see it. You ready, Rae?"
Raven Branwen hesitated. Even so, she drew her scarlet blade and assumed her stance. But who's her target? Qrow thought darkly, before he could stop himself.
He turned to the more experienced Huntsman. "What should we do?" he asked. It was basically a formality at this point.
Poirpeau sighed. "What else?" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then Sherwood Bell raised his cane. A revolver's barrel jutted out of the weapon's dull end, staring into one of the girls' eyes. He turned to Qrow and smiled, a smile that was amicable, but not without fire.
"We fight, of course."
