Embers of Autumn

Chapter Fifty-Two

This ship isn't as big as the one that brought them all to Mistral, it was meant for short distance transport and dropping off personnel, so there are no barracks for them to retire to so they can properly process the awful morning that's now miles behind them. Team JNPR had strapped themselves in to the four seats situated around the medic station, allowing Ren to finish patching up Nora even though she doesn't really need it. At this point the young Witch is just relishing the attention, a fact that she makes no effort to hide as she smiles at her partner every time they look at each other, and in turn making him do the same. It's the most openly emotive the young man has been...goodness, had he ever smiled this much?

Pyrrha watches from her seat across from them, unaware and uncaring that she stares like she's looking at a puzzle. She knows she should be happy for them; Pyrrha vividly remembers having watched them during their time at Beacon, seeing the hints of all the things manifesting now: the pining, the passive aggression at times, she can even recall how she often shook her head at their seemingly silly dance around each other. Now here they are, smirking and whispering at each other, comforting one another with small touches and interlacing fingers. She should feel happy, and guilty because she had put them in danger, and then frustrated that she can't do either. But, again, she simply can't.

Still, she tries to sell the illusion because she knew herself well enough that she knows that's what she's supposed to do. There's still a survival grade instinct to be the person others are expecting. "I'm sorry." she says.

Jaune lifts his head at the soft sound of her voice, looking to startle out of a light snooze. "It's oka-"

"You don't mean that." Nora cuts him off, not looking up from staring at her own feet.

"Nora," Ren hisses quietly, visibly surprised just as Jaune is.

"What? She doesn't."

Pyrrha blinks, looking to process the response, and then nods with a sigh. "She's right."

"See? Besides, you heard it yourself, she doesn't care."

"She can't, and that's not her fault." Jaune corrects gently. "Come on, Nora, this isn't like you." and he really doesn't know what to think when she crosses her arms and just scowls, refusing to look at him.

"I know," Pyrrha continues after a tense moment, "I know I should be sorry, and that I would mean it if things were different."

"But they're not." Nora responds bitterly.

"It's not like she asked for this." Jaune intercedes again.

"She asked for this when she chose to go after Cinder." The ginger bites back, her eyes finally up and on him with a sharp edge. Something mean in her likes how her team leader's jaw hangs, enjoys the shock on his face, but another part of her is already regretting where this conversation is going and pitifully trying to convince her to stop.

"That's not fair." Jaune counters when he's got his words back.

"Since when has any of this been fair?" and she's equally smug and disappointed when he doesn't have an answer. "If it was fair, Ozpin wouldn't have asked her to be a Maiden in the first place. If it was fair, after all the fighting we've done we would have gotten our best friend back instead of..."

Pyrrha meets Nora's gaze. "Instead of what?" Because a part of her needs to know what she really is, if not herself. She needs to know what they see. But she doesn't get an explanation; maybe that's when all of Nora's hurt swells up and overwhelms her because she just tenses inward and sinks a little lower in her seat. "I'm sorry." Pyrrha repeats.

"Stop saying that." Nora sniffles, wiping her nose on her forearm. Her eyes are starting to glisten with tears.

A heavy quiet settles in, abrasive and uncomfortable. Ren and Jaune do the same thing, looking at Nora and Pyrrha before looking at each other, although Jaune doesn't expect for his own visible helplessness to be met with expectation. He feels like those cherry blossom eyes are telling him to step up and do something, but for a moment he's afraid to because he's convinced he'll screw it up. What he'd give for another dose of that unflappable confidence he felt earlier when he was running for his life.

Jaune braces himself, exhaling audibly, the air inflating his cheeks on its way out. "Listen," and he waits until Nora eventually looks at him. "I know this is hard on you, I do because it's hard on all of us, but it isn't Pyrrha's fault. What happened at Beacon...she did what she thought was best...and it just isn't right to hold that against her. And we all know that this isn't because of Cinder, but Salem, so if you have to blame someone, blame her. Or blame me if it makes you feel better."

The raw hurt on her face morphs into something desperate. "B-but,"

"Just don't blame Pyrrha." he finishes with a sort of finality. As he said, he would gladly take whatever blame Nora would mete out, because Pyrrha had done enough. She had given so much and asked for so little, it just didn't seem right to demand she shoulder anything more. He sighs again, feeling the weight of all the things he remembers and realizes, all the things that put just as much guilt on himself as anyone. He was the one who unknowingly gave Pyrrha permission to throw herself away -never mind Ozpin or Salem or Cinder, he was the one who effectively signed off on her life.

They let the quiet settle in again for the moment, let themselves process everything.

"Just because she can't care doesn't mean we don't have to." Jaune continues. "She still needs us to care, still needs...we still need to love her as we always have, even if she says she doesn't need us to. Because we know her, and we know that if...if things were still the same, that's what she would want us to do."

Somehow, in a way she might never be able to explain, Pyrrha knows he's right. It sounds like an attitude she would express at a time like this at the very least. Because she remembers being touch starved and craving genuine affection from all three of them, yet part of her is grateful -in some strange way- that she can't mentally summon up the actual feelings.

Nora's quiet again and she won't look at any of them, then her face scrunches up. "I'm sorry." she whimpers tightly. "I'm just...I'm angry and this sucks and I...I-,"

"We know." Ren touches her forearm with the back of his hand, trying to be comforting though he can feel her magic bristling sharply against him. "It's okay. Just try talking to us before you start pointing fingers."

"Talking is stupid."

"Fair enough." Jaune chuckles softly as he nods his head, and already he can feel her calming a little. Just a little.

"But," why Pyrrha hesitates she doesn't know, maybe she's waiting for everyone to acknowledge her first. "I...I felt something earlier. I believe." Then all eyes are on her in an instant and she meets them each in turn.

"Was it after you came to? When you," When you held on to me like you were terrified. And in Jaune's mind, the idea of fear and Pyrrha Nikos in one thought just didn't fit together at all.

"Yes. But it was only for a moment...at least I think it was."

"You had a seizure, it's no surprise that you might have been confused." Ren sounds like he's reading from a script, but she knows he's serious. "But you're certain there was...something?"

She nods.

"You were crying." Jaune adds.

Pyrrha looks at him, eyes thinning as she tries to retrieve the memory in tighter focus. "...I was. Yes. I was afraid."

"Well, to be fair, there were Grimm everywhere and you were unarmed."

"But it wasn't the Grimm I was worried about." Pyrrha shakes her head. She had no reason to be afraid of creatures that are still too much like herself. "I was...I think I was having flashbacks. Maybe."

The other three exchange anxious glances and none of them seeming willing to press for details. They know Pyrrha would likely tell them anything they asked in vivid detail, and they didn't have the strength to shoulder that right now. Not after the morning they had.

"But this means there's a chance right?" Nora shifts in her seat, her expression tentatively hopeful. "She could get better? What if we found a way to get the Grimm out, maybe Tag could still do it and she'd be normal again,"

"No." Jaune stops her. "That's too risky. Tag said if we try again it might be worse."

"So you just want her to stay this way?"

"If it were up to me, yes. If it were only my choice to make, I would much rather learn to love her this way than possibly get her killed."

Nora pales, recoiling with a pained sort of realization that's as plain and visible as her freckles.

"I don't mean to be so harsh with you, Nora, but that's the truth of the matter."

"Alright, so Tag can't do it," Ren adds after a moment, "but what about Salem? I mean, she wove the magic that bound Pyrrha with the Old One in the first place, couldn't she undo it?"

"I...I don't know. I'll have to ask Glynda, then we can look into it, but we've got a long while before we can do anything about it. We should probably try to rest up while we have the time."

Pyrrha watches them settle into their seats like one would settle into bed for a nap. Nora and Ren look at each other, the young Witch's eyes softly pleading until her partner takes her hand with his. She can see her whole form desaturate a little and a visible serenity wash over her and knows she should feel comforted too in knowing Nora isn't so high strung now. And she's reminded again that she should be happy for them.

When she turns her head to look at Jaune he's adjusting the harness across his chest, loosening it just enough so he has some room to slouch. His chest expands and contracts with a sigh as he settles, and for a moment he tips his head back and shuts his eyes. Assuming he means to sleep, she looks away and mimics his posture a little, crossing her arms and letting her head fall back against the wall.

"Hey,"

This time when she looks at him he's looking back at her, a tiny smirk on the corner of his mouth, and he's holding out his hand.

"What?"

"I know it probably doesn't mean anything, but," he lilts his head, "I just want you to know that we're here for you."

She just blinks at him.

His breath hitches and he fumbles after a moment. "You know...I guess I'm just being selfish, I'm sorry."

But before he can pull his hand all the way back, she reaches out and takes it. More so takes him by the fingers. It's awkward but he doesn't care; she's trying and that's all that matters, that's what gives him hope.

(-)

Her head still hurts though her aura steadily works to soothe the wound. Tag does her best to remain still and quiet, anything to spare herself unnecessary discomfort. She sits in what is usually the navigator's seat, Daisy and her co-pilot just in front of her and silently doing their respective jobs. Beside her are several screens, some with nothing but numbers and symbols, and one that appeared to be a map of Remnant. In the blank space between bright green outlines of Mistral and Vale is a flashing dot that changes position every few minutes. She pays it all little more mind than that, the bright and blinking lights threatening to worsen her headache. When it becomes too much she asks for Aspirin, stumbling on the unfamiliar word a couple times. The co-pilot is generous enough to fetch some for her. She takes the tablets with a nod of gratitude and tries to rest a while longer, the attempt made easy by the low and steady hum of the engines.

Thankfully the pain has passed when she wakes and she feels more together after a good, hard stretch.

"Any better, ma'am?" Daisy calls over her shoulder.

"Thank you, yes." that is, aside from the cramp in her tail from the shape of the chair. "Where are we?"

"We're almost in Vale's airspace, but there's a couple hours between us and the Warren. Feel free to keep snoozing if you like."

Tag laughs, wishing she could but knowing she really needs to check her scroll. Her backpack is just beside her seat and she reaches for it with half-hearted purpose, her hand slapping the side of the chair until she makes herself lean over the rest of the way. She hoists the bag into her lap, all but shoving her head inside when she has to dig to find the device. When she retrieves it she'll tuck the bag behind her seat where it was before tapping the screen. Sure enough, just as Jaune said, there's a notice of an unheard message with Glynda's picture beside it. She does her best to remember how to access her voice mail, fumbling only twice before she gets it right. Tension has started to gather in her chest in anticipation of what the Witch has to say.

There's a second of too quiet chatter, an exchange of some kind, and a shrug that comes through clearly. Then "Tag,"

That is most certainly not Glynda.

"Glynda insists that you contact her as soon as possible. There's a good chance the Fall Maiden might be planning a direct move against us and there is information she needs to share with you. She isn't sure how much time we have so she wants to see to it that whatever she can do is done before that happens."

Tag swallows a thickness in her throat and acknowledges the thrumming of her heart at the sound of Billy's voice.

"Also, if you would permit it," there's a long strain of hesitation, "I would hope that, should we see each other again, that we could...maybe we could talk about this some more. About us. Not that you owe me that. It's just...I...I've been foolish, and...at least think it over. Please. Be safe."

Everything about it caught her off guard and she can't decipher exactly how she feels, and she stares at the screen of the scroll after pulling it from her ear as if it has the answer. A hard shake of her head brings her wits back, and then she makes quick work of finding Glynda in her contacts. Strangely, a part of her is thankful that her former Guardian hadn't answered, but the thought of them is lingering in the back of her mind during the entire conversation.

(II)

Gypsy is worried, if she said she was anything else she'd be lying. It started when she got the itch to sharpen all of her kitchen knives in the middle of the night. She actually couldn't sleep until she sat down and did it, and that sort of thing had -until now- only come about when she was pregnant. She's fairly certain that wasn't the case, so it had to be something else. Then she realizes that it's been too long since she heard from Jaune last, although her mother's intuition is assuring her that he will contact her soon and it's never been wrong...okay, it's been wrong once. Then, to top it all off, Gee-Gee called yesterday evening and all but begged her to come to the manor as soon as she was able.

Now here she sits on a southbound train to Vale, looking out the window at the morning sky with her chin propped on her fist, her brow furrowed and her long ears anxiously slanted back. Her mind is lingering on the conversation with her sister, how her usually stable, almost monotone voice had the slightest lilt that made Gypsy suspicious -like Glynda's withholding something. In truth, Glynda was likely holding back a lot, as she had neglected to mention what the hell was going on in more detail than "it's serious, and I need you" coupled with a promise to explain everything when Gypsy arrived. It's not that she's against helping family, far from it, but something about it all just doesn't feel kosher. Still, the worry is a little one; even if things get bad, she knows her family is ready.

The train stops at a small Dust depot between Queen's Hollow and Vale, and this is where Gypsy disembarks. She steps onto the small platform with her overnight bag in one hand and starts looking this way and that, expecting to need only a moment or two to spot the massive Faunus she knows is waiting for her. She looks right, left, then right again before her ears prick when she sees one big, waving hand reaching up over everyone else on the platform. They greet each other with a smile and a hug, Billy saying she looks well with the Witch returning the compliment yet unable to avoid bringing up that they appear a little older than she remembers. Billy just brushes it off as poor sleep, "Been busy helping at the manor", which isn't the whole truth but isn't a total lie either.

"Hear any more than what I have from that wayward son of mine?"

"Afraid not. He's back in Mistral with his team and my Ma -ahem- Tag, and she's only contacted Glynda a time or two. I'm to assume they're all right," and they inch their big shoulders, uncommitted. "I'm sure your sisters will tell you more when we arrive."

"We'd best be on then."

And Billy is slightly surprised that the usually astute Witch didn't appear to catch on. If that was the case, Gypsy was in for a hell of shock.

The former Guardian transforms once they're out of sight of the depot, allowing Gypsy to ride the remainder of the way to the manor. A few cars pass them as the lumbering Bison ambles along the side of the paved road, Gypsy getting a laugh at the shocked faces looking through windows and windshields. As they get closer and she can see the shadowy silhouette of the manor against the trees, Gypsy can feel the prick of nostalgia in her chest. She hadn't been inside the house in thirty years or more, not since she was a little girl and her parents hadn't yet separated. She wonders how much has changed and if it will matter to her when she finds out.

She remembers a much younger Gee-gee, the little girl so unlike herself even though she was blood -half blood, she thinks reflexively- with glasses almost too big for her and how intelligent and focused she was even then. Though the two of them were a mere seven years apart in age, it was obvious early on that Glynda was mentally years ahead of herself, and beyond if not equal with Gypsy. And while they got along as children, they didn't really bond because Gypsy had the damnedest time separating Glynda's younger appearance from her mature mind. That had been intimidating in a way a child could only know yet never explain, but over the years Gypsy realized what it was all about; she had been afraid of being replaced as the eldest, as what she perceived to be Maab's favorite.

But that was then and this is now. Gypsy loves her sister, else she wouldn't be here. Still the nostalgia doubles back and drops like a small stone in her gut when she slides off Billy's back and looks up to the ranks of gargoyles and chimneys and then along the wrought iron and stone. Heavens, it's been so very long.

She and Billy talk a little more as they walk up to the house. Gypsy doesn't bother to knock, likely on an old comfort of this having once been her home. Her lapin ears twitch towards the far reaching echoes of the screeching door hinges through the main room. She'll take a moment to absorb everything -how it all still looks and sounds and smells the same as it used to- before clearing her throat.

"You there, Gee-gee? Where are you, you old spinster?"

"Ahem,"

With her long ears straight up and her head snapping to the side she spots Glynda at the top of the staircase and starting down the steps. Part of her wants to run to meet her at the bottom, but she knows her little sister never was a big fan of enthusiastic affection. Instead Gypsy reigns herself in, taking easy strides to stand abreast the banister until Glynda reaches the ground floor, holding her arms out in hopes that she'll reciprocate. Glynda accepts the invitation though she doesn't expect Gypsy to close her arms so suddenly and so securely around her. The younger Witch tenses as her big sister lifts her up, the discrepancy in their height leaving her more than an inch off the floor as Gypsy straightens. Her face is twisted up in a strange mixture of discomfort and a reluctant smile as Gypsy nuzzles her and showers her temple with kisses.

"It's so good to see you, Gee-gee."

"Likewise," Glynda forces, pushing gently at her sister's shoulders as a sign to be released. "I'm grateful that you came on such short notice. I'm sure leaving your children isn't easy."

"It isn't like they're all toddlers anymore." Gypsy laughs, her hands going to her hips once she's let Glynda go. "Besides, I told you I'd come if you called, and you called, so,"

"Still, I appreciate it."

Gypsy nods once, smiling. "So what's this all about?"

"If you'll follow me to the study, I'd be happy to explain. Although," Glynda clears her throat again, "you wouldn't happen to have anything fragile in that bag, would you?"

"Just my reading glasses, why?"

"Just in case." and she starts to walk, expecting Gypsy to follow.

"In case of what?"

"You'll see."

Gypsy scowls. "Things like this make me think Oseric had nothing to do with you, that you just fell off of momma's back." And it's only when Billy laughs from just behind her that the frustration on her face cracks up with a half smile and the shake of her head. The two of them ease into a steady walk to catch up to Glynda, following her through the house.

Glynda tries to be a passable hostess, offering Gypsy anything she might need -naturally her coffee is turned down, her older sister saying she would have accepted if it wasn't just after noon and also needed to grout the bathroom. Glynda just rolls her eyes and shrugs, all but giving up on courtesy and small talk. Not like this was just a simple social visit anyway.

"I always liked this hallway the most," Gypsy smiles comfortably, her head moving so she can look all around at the stained glass. "The colors are still as dazzling as I remember. Oh," she pauses as they near the end of the corridor, partly watching as Glynda continues to the door. "I thought you said the study?"

"This is my study now. It's safer."

"I understand that, but," her ears cock awkwardly, her brow knitting with a touch of worry. "What's really going on, Gee-gee? What's so big that we need the heart of the house in broad daylight?"

"Well, I assumed you had some idea of what we're dealing with -I thought Jaune must have told you a few things when he was with you during the Solstice."

"But what's that got to do with this?"

"As fate would have it, quite a lot. Just come and sit and we'll explain everything."

"We?" she has to ask because she has the distinct feeling that "we" didn't include Billy. She's suddenly swamped by that not-so-good feeling she had on the train as Gypsy forces herself to move, going to Glynda's side just as the younger Witch is pushing through the door.

Gypsy is more than tall enough to see into the room over Glynda's shoulder, at first mentally startled by how much the room had changed since she was last in it. She has no memory of the majority of the decorations on the wall, and her brain is trying to put the furniture in the room back where she's convinced it belongs. Then, as she steps inside, she immediately zeros in on the other thing so glaringly out of place that it makes her stop and drop her bag. Thankfully her reading glasses were safely tucked away in their case, unbroken.

Salem sits at the desk against the wall, hands in her lap and looking anxious and reservedly happy. "Hello, Gypsy."

One spotted ear cocks to the side as her gaze jumps from one little sister to the other for the better half of a minute, her jaw dropping as if she means to say something though nothing emerges. Finally her eyes settle on Glynda, and her shock morphs just enough to show something demanding.

"I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't come."

"Th-that's what you were worried about? Not that I wouldn't believe you when you told me my baby sister is back from the dead?" Gypsy does a double take, making sure the woman in the chair was actually there and she isn't just imagining it. "Mind you, as a mother of eight I've heard some tall tales, but...but," and she looks again, a part of her brain still refusing to see Salem sitting there. "What the hell is going on? And what does my son have to do with it?" And then she whips around and juts a finger towards the only other Faunus in he room. "Did you know about this too?"

Billy tenses, their face stretching warily. "Y-yes."

"And you didn't think to tell me either?"

"I asked them not to." Glynda explained.

"As if I would've waited at the station another three hours for a train home? Damn it, Glynda, you know me better!"

"Please don't shout." Salem pleads softly. "I know this is a lot, in fact I'm sure it's likely too much," she laughs timidly, "but we really do need your help, Gypsy. There might not be a lot of time and we need to get you up to speed, but if all goes well, Jaune won't have to be put in any further danger than he and his friends already are."

Gypsy's ears fall back and her arms cross beneath her breasts like she's hugging herself, obvious vulnerability written all over her face. She's looking back and forth between her sisters again as her mind struggles with what to do when all she wants to think about is her children. Finally, after a minute, Gypsy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, stabilizing.

"Alright, alright," she nods, "start from the beginning. And don't leave anything out lest I put all three of you over my knee." And Salem is the only one who laughs because she isn't wholly aware of just how serious she is. At least, not until her eldest sister sits down heavily on the edge of the cot beside the desk, their auras bristling together until Salem's yields to it.

Glynda begins with the hunt in Menagerie, where Gypsy remembers having last heard of Salem, and steadily works her way through the time line she had compiled thus far over the years to today -including her most recent conversation with Tag in regards to the events in Ithica this morning. In between the facts and speculations, she and Salem both make insertions of mythos and folklore where it's necessary, most of which their older sister seems to absorb, albeit slowly. For the most part, Gypsy simply sits and listens, her ears telegraphing more of a reaction than her face. She won't say a word until all of it is out in the open and she's had a moment to process it.

Gypsy rubs her eyes for a moment, looking tense all over in the seconds before she lifts her head. "Does momma know about any of this?"

"Most of it." Glynda answers. "I've been trying to reach her for the last week but unsuccessfully. I'm still working on it."

"She's going to flip." Gypsy shakes her head, smiling though with a hint of insincerity. "And Jarreth...gods above, that man and his...that man."

"That's what we said." Salem sighs.

"So you're trying to tell me that Ozpin played us all? Or at least that's what you're thinking?"

"It stands to reason, at least from the way I look at it." Glynda adjusts her glasses.

"But the children?" the Faunus Witch just can't fathom it. "Even my son?"

"All of us were part of the puzzle, Gypsy. For what it's worth, I am sorry it turned out like this."

"The hell are you apologizing for?" then she laughs. "You were the one who wanted Jaune kicked out of that school, weren't you? Might have saved me some heartache,"

"Perhaps." Glynda rocks on her heels, hands behind her back. "In any case, this is where we stand now."

Gypsy nods, like Salem does, like Billy too. "And you're thinking this Cinder broad is going to come here looking for her focus?"

"I do."

"And for Jarreth's cane as well." Salem adds. "At least that's likely. I mean...I'm fairly certain I never told her what it was for, but she's smart, she'd take it just in case it does mean something."

"But if that stuff stays in the safe, what could she do to get it? I'm aware she's a Maiden but," Gypsy looks between them, "you're both well trained and experienced. More so than I am anyhow."

"As true as that may be, she has her Guardians, and I would imagine she'll be desperate to get it. She won't hold anything back, and I likely can't stand toe-to-toe with that by myself. And even with Salem I might not have much of a chance as she's still recovering to a point."

"But if we stand together," the youngest Witch tries, sounding hopeful.

"I don't know." Gypsy's shaking her head again. "I'm a housewife...a mother...being a Witch wasn't something I chose and it just doesn't mean as much to me as it does to the two of you. I can't imagine I'll be much good."

"You're the most powerful Witch alive, mother saw to that." Glynda declares in a matter of fact sort of way. She's thinking back to when Rusty took Gypsy away to Menagerie and how furious Maab had been, thinking back to how her mother had raged for days over losing her. And it wasn't just because that was her child and the man she loved broke her trust, it was because she had put months if not years of research and work into ensuring that Gypsy be born on a certain day of a certain month of a certain year to all but guarantee the potency of her magic. And her daughter's Semblance had only compounded her sense of success.

Maab had, of course, done that with all three of them, but Gypsy was a special case.

"Regardless of your training or lack thereof, Cinder still won't know what she's walking into. We have a real chance if you help us. Though...I'll understand if you can't."

Gypsy's brow furrows and her ears slant back. She knows Glynda is trying her hand at a guilt trip, and it's partly working. What's upsetting is that she doesn't have to, as Gypsy had told her countless times that she can't say no to family. Never mind that this whole mess has already put Jaune in danger, if they fail here, whatever the Fall Maiden plans to do stands the threaten her entire family. Maybe even all of Remnant.

She won't respond immediately, in fact Glynda's face shifts to something visibly worrisome when Gypsy rises to her feet and heads for the door. She assures her younger sister that it's only for a moment, that she needs to make a call. Billy gives her a wide birth to do as she pleases. Out in the hallway she feels the influence of the ley line convergence leave her, her magic surging back, and that only seems to add to the emotional discomfort she feels. She hates guilt trips.

Gypsy frantically pats herself down in search of her scroll, swearing tightly until she finds it in a pocket of her skirt. Quicker than she likely ever has, she finds Jaune in her list of contacts and dials him. She taps her foot anxiously while she waits for the telling click of a successful connection.

"Momma?"

"Don't you 'momma' me, young man; when were you finally going to call me and tell about all these dead folks walking around?" She can hear him sputtering over the line, part of her smug that she got the desired result.

"M-mom, I'm sorry, I meant to call you, really. It's just a lot has happened in the last week and I got side tracked."

"So I'm to understand. I'm here at the Hollow and I just had to hear everything from your aunts -I say, the least you could have done was tell me Salem was still alive."

"I know, momma, I know. I really am sorry."

Gypsy sighs, rubbing her eyes like before with her ears down. "You know I fuss because I worry, Jaune."

"I know, but you won't have to much longer. My team and I are headed back to the Warren, we'll be safe there."

Her ears are up again. "Oh." she worries the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. "How soon before you get there?"

"According to Daisy, maybe an hour or so. Three at the most."

She nods like he's right there, like it means something. "Jaune, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?"

"Ask your pilot if they'd be willing to bring you here to the Hollow, but I want you to pick up your sisters first."

A moment of silence, then "What?"

"I'm going to call ahead and let them know, but I want you to grab up Jess, Alice, and the twins and bring them with you."

"Can I ask why? And don't just say Witch stuff,"

Gypsy scowls to herself. "Cheeky boy. But, to be totally honest, that's exactly what it is. I'm afraid your momma's got a bad feeling...and I hope I'm wrong."

"...Mom?" just that one word telegraphs all the worry he's feeling. Even if it didn't, Gypsy would still know it's there. Because a mother always knows.

"Don't you be worrying about me, baby, you've got your hands full enough as it is. You just do as I ask and get here as soon as you can, alright? Besides, I could just be paranoid and these heebie-jeebies won't mean anything."

"Momma," and his tone is almost scolding now, because he knows her instincts are better than she's giving herself credit for. "I'll be there, don't worry. Even if we have to take the train."

"Here's hoping you won't have to." she allows herself a little smirk in spite of how her heart has started to flutter, nervous. "I love you, Jaune. You be safe, you hear?"

"I love you too, mom...be careful."

It breaks her heart how much it sounds like he doesn't want to say goodbye, especially since she doesn't want to either. She loves and misses hearing his voice, both feelings amplified by her unease and having gone this long without seeing him. What she'd give to just drop everything and run home to her family, just forget all of this. But that's not her style. Never has been, never will be.

She'll say "I love you" one more time and then hang up, swallowing a thickness in her throat before tucking the device back into her pocket. Then she'll go back into the study, hoping against hope that she and her sisters will be able to come up with something resembling a plan.

Because, even now, Cinder is weighing whether or not tonight would be the perfect night to take back what is rightfully hers.

Author's note: Another weird chapter to write. I get the feeling a lot of you are thinking Nora was very out of character there at the beginning, and I get it, but it's also why I had her attitude called on immediately. She's still dealing with a lot of stuff and she's always been so expressive to me. She doesn't bottle it up or hide it, she lets it out, and I'm sure that includes the painful stuff. But now she has Ren, right? And I still don't know when that Renora spinoff is coming -I still want to do it, just waiting for the right place for it, you know? Anyway, next chapter is -more or less- the spring board for the big climax, so brace yourselves.