"You should… probably be speaking to a real therapist…"

The girl snorted as she rolled her eyes. Qrow sighed, he knew that this was a situation without a winning move, probably without a not-terrible move, but the people who had clearance to actually have this conversation was himself, Summer, Amber, Oz, and Glynda, and, basically, it came down to him and Amber deciding which of them should be talking to Belladon- to Blake and which one to Emerald. And Amber had a point—Qrow had been Emerald's guidance on the whole coming out issue, it might be better if she had a different person to chat with for the whole "your mom's an evil and abusive witch" talk.

Or, well, the "you can trust me enough to have a chat so that one day we can talk about your mom being an evil, abusive witch" talk.

So that's why he was the one speaking to the world's only Grimm-Faunus hybrid, her kitty ears bristling and every inch of her unnaturally chalk-white body radiating a tension that Qrow could not blame her for. Yang had told them that it was a conversation with Blake that made her realize that the situation with the claimed was, to use a technical term, "wholly fucked up," but she wouldn't betray the girl's trust to tell them what she'd been told in confidence any more than the broadest outlines. She was a good woman, his niece, but at the same time... it left him flying blind.

"So I figure… I shouldn't even try, really." That got her eyes to perk up a little, more the curiosity of what "trick" he'd be pulling than honest surprise, but at least she was listening. "I'm no therapist, hell, I've worn out a few of them myself, so I was figuring… you're the intel specialist for your family, I'm an intel specialist for Vale… How bout we just talk shop for a while, then we can see if we can get you to talk to somebody better'n me?"

She stared at him incredulously.

"I mean," he laughed, "I'm really just qualified to do one thing, so-"

"You're not lying?"

He wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, but she certainly sounded surprised to say it. From the way she was furiously examining every inch of his face, making Qrow feel like a bug on a microscope, it seemed like the girl had some kind of supernatural lie-detector powers, too, which… well, it wasn't like his plan could get that much worse, really.

"...no?" he answered with a shrug.

"You honestly… you honestly have no plan to get me to open up? To try and… you're an intelligence operative!"

"Yeah," he nodded, "But I spy by overhearing things. In bars, mostly. Oz don't exactly send me to do the whole dinner parties or pillowtalk routine, cause… it'd probably end disastrously."

Blake was now scanning his face with an intensity that started to make his skin itch. "You… you're hiding something!" she declared.

But Qrow just gave her an impish smile. "If I am, then you should be able to detect it."

She scowled. "You're trying to get a rise out of me."

"Is it working?"

"You're infuriating."

He laughed, but evidently, it was a gentler laugh than Blake had expected, and she softened a little to hear it. "Yeah, join the club. Summer'll be able to tell you all about my charming personality quirks. But… it'll look bad for the both of us if we wrap this up before an hour's passed, so… those Vacuan Separatists ain't a Valean plot, we've-"

"What!" she cried, a sudden breach in her composure, "You can't be serious! The munitions found at the Colorado Safehouse were clearly of Valean make!"

Qrow shook his head. "You'd think that, but… what if I told you that they were delivered by Mistralian agents? Happen to know exactly the operative who they picked out to oversee it?"

She leaned forward, eager to hear more. Mostly to pick it apart and explain how she was right, but in the long run... hook, line, and sinker. Qrow talked about himself as an intelligence agent, but really, that was just a manlier term for what he really was: a gossip hound. And juicy gossip like this was the sort of thing spies loved. Made them feel like they were on the inside.

"Vale's intelligence community's pretty big, and I'm Ozpin's guy, not the Council's, so I can't say for sure what the plans are with the borderlands, but I did happen to see my sister around in Vale back before that shit hit the fan. Now, I don't see my sister often, but believe me, she knows Vale from our time here at Beacon and she's the one who people get when they need an operation to be untraceable."

"Your sister… Raven Branwen?" she asked, though more to show that she already knew than to ask a real question.

He nodded. "Yep. Former leader of the Branwen Clan before your side lightened up the pressure with the Grimm and know the noble traditions of the Mistralian bandit clans had to contend with a whole bunch of Huntsmen with a lot more free time on their hands… end of an era, really."

"You don't sound too broken up about it," she noted, astutely.

"Eh, not all family is family, if you know what I mean," his words causing the unnaturally pale girl's eyes to dart away, "And the Branwens… they weren't family in the way my team's my family. Though that ain't the first time I've said that to one of you claimed kids… though, on that, you mind if I ask you a question?"

The girl tensed, shooting back to her earlier, wary state. Qrow had to go easy here: vulnerability doesn't come easy to her, and a request to open up was tantamount to a threat.

"Nothing… nothing top secret. Just wanted to ask… your sister, Emerald..."

Her eyes shot back to him, a quiet intensity in them that was forceful enough to make even Qrow reel a bit. She was as protective of her family as Qrow was of his, but that meant he knew they had something they both found important, some common ground here.

"Last thing she told me before all this came down was… she was finally telling you guys about..."

"That she's gay?" Blake responded, eyebrow cocked.

"Yeah, that," Qrow nodded. "I gotta know… she's okay, right? This isn't-"

Blake cut him off with a shake of her head. "No, Jaune didn't… Emerald's fine. She's, ha," she gave a rueful laugh, "She's probably the only one of us that's doing well right now."

Qrow sighed. He really wanted to speak with Emerald, to ask her how it went, to make sure she was doing alright, but he had a duty to the kid in front of him right now.

Duty.

What a word. What a hell of a word. He had been born into duty, the son of the Chief of the Branwen Tribe. A duty to his family, a duty to his people, a duty to strength itself. But at Beacon, Qrow had learned of more duties. Different duties. To Summer and STRQ. To Oz and Vale. To himself. And it had been a painful choice, even as sure as he was he was making the right one, to choose one duty over another. Looking at Blake, he saw a girl not so different from a younger him—caught between loyalties and trying to figure herself out.

But Qrow felt an internal sigh as he thought that. He kept it internal, and even as sharp-eyed as Blake was—he suspected there was a good reason she was called "the Hawk"—now that Qrow was talking to her about her sister, Blake was more focused on what was clearly a favorite subject. She was relating an anecdote about a younger Emerald spouting off Shrike facts with a wistful, nostalgic expression, but the kind that emphasized a point Qrow didn't like to think about.

They couldn't help these kids.

Not that they were beyond help, Qrow had seen with Emerald that they really were normal kids, hopeful and strong, but even normal kids in a situation like this needed professionals. They needed someone with a background to help this, not whatever adults had clearance and discretion enough to handle the matter without sparking an international incident. They would need time, more than just the duration of their visit to the Vytal Festival before they were sent back to the Grimmlands. And while and surprisingly tired-looking Cinder Fall hadn't put up any of their expected objections, Qrow knew not to take that optimistically. Even if Fall did care for the kids, she wasn't the one calling the shots.

But Qrow knew that, even if they couldn't help, they could still be there for them. And that first step would be getting them to realize that they had a place where they could talk and be heard and, unlike whatever experience they'd had growing up in the Grimmlands, they'd be treated like people. And hearing Blake start to share a story about her and Emerald, endlessly competing between each other on anything they could... sort of like him and Raven, when they were little... Qrow hoped they were finding their way there. It'd be a long road, probably a dangerous one, but… well, no matter what, it's what they owed these kids.

So he laughed along as Blake continued talking about her siblings, looking nothing at all like the standoffish, defensive girl he'd seen when she'd first came in.

This was… a lot.

For the second time, Jaune found himself in Ozpin's office. On his first visit, he'd marveled at the view and imagined the Jaune of another world, a Huntsman-in-training, standing here to be awarded or disciplined or anything other than as a meeting between two sides in an intractable war. And this time… this time Jaune just felt that he was so meagre and small that he didn't belong here. He was tired. Exhausted. Did not remotely have the time or energy for what should be the whole reason he was supposed to be here. A one-on-one off the books meeting with Headmaster Ozpin, and… Jaune just didn't really care. He'd woken up to Pyrrha and Blake in his arms, two women so incredibly dear to him, and yet… he knew Blake had left in the night.

Her emotions had thrown her off her game, or perhaps she wanted him to know, but Jaune hadn't been quite asleep as she quietly slipped out from his arms and left, going out into the darkness, going… somewhere she wasn't telling him.

Because she needed something he couldn't give her.

He just... he couldn't.

Pyrrha and Blake… had he really not seen it? Or had he just made himself not see it? Did he just not want to acknowledge that there was anything more complicated in them then what they had as children? Was it easier to think of the feelings they had for each other being simple, childlike affection?

Or was he just a coward? He just didn't want to acknowledge the reality that they were growing up, all of them, and that things were changing, inevitably. And now, in spite of how much he'd attempted to hold time back, he was older, drawn into things that came with adulthood. Things he had no ability to handle.

He had been frozen by fear when Blake approached him with her offer, when they stripped naked, when they kissed him.

He couldn't deny it. The desire, the realization that, yes, he had thought about the beautiful, adoring girls in his life and wanted… more. More of them, more from them, but when he looked upon them, his desire was mingled with… with an absolute and unstoppable fear. Something within him broke at the feeling. Something terrified of what it meant to realize that his sisters, his most dear touchstone in the world, weren't children anymore. That they had changed, and there was no way to go back.

But even deeper inside him, something from the depths of his soul, something in the Light Inside that struggled against the Darkness said no. His wants, his desires… it had something of Mother wrapped up in it, and it filled Jaune with despair that he might be becoming something like her.

He thought of the stuffed rabbit Mrs. Arc had handed him, thought of it like it was an anchor, some tie to his past, and how it seemed to be drifting away from him, inescapably, as he tried so desperately to hold onto something.

Ozpin took a seat on a couch—had the office been redecorated since Jaune had last been here?—and gestured to Jaune to help himself to the samovar of coffee available. Jaune just shook his head no.

With nothing else to do, the Headmaster sighed and gave Jaune a look of hopeless sympathy, a mirror of what Jaune was feeling inside.

"I think the fact that Ms. Fall conceded to these meetings, between you, your siblings, and other members of my staff, speaks to the sad truth that we all acknowledge that… that something must be done."

Jaune almost had to laugh, a fierce, barking noise that sparked in his gut and struggled to claw its way out of him. Yes, something must be done, they all could agree that none of them were healthy or able to handle the intense stress of their situation, but what that something was supposed to be was as great a mystery to Jaune as it was to everyone else.

But what was left to be said?

But it seemed the Headmaster was going to find out. "You know… I told you in our last meeting that I've known Queen Salem for a very long time… but I don't think I've told you how long. I can't imagine she's told you much about me?"

Jaune, again, shook his head no. "All I know is," he swallowed, nervously, focusing himself back to the matter at hand, "that you and her are… enemies."

The Headmaster ruefully shook his head. "Yes, I'm afraid that's true. Since the days of Ozma, there's always been someone in my position, moving against the Queen of the Grimm. It's a long lineage, with perfect continuity stretching back to the original Ozma. Salem has done much to stop us, but she has always failed, for a simple reason."

Peering at him through his small spectacles, Ozpin paused before continuing. "It's because I am Ozma."

That… had not been something Jaune had expected to hear. He gaped at the Headmaster, not sure if this was a metaphor or if he, too, was an immortal being. Jaune felt that Mother would have told him if her most legendary foe still lived, but the way the Headmaster was saying it… it sounded quite literal.

Ozpin nodded, seeing the shock on Jaune's face. "Salem and I… we were cursed together. She was given the immortality she holds now, an endless attachment to the world of the living. I was given an immortality of a sort as well—one that finds me constantly reborn into this world every time I am taken from it. I have seen the world of Remnant change and evolve for as long as she has, though I've seen it from a closer, more personal perspective. But more importantly, it means… I've known Salem in a way no one else has. Not just in terms of longevity, but… well, she was once my wife."

Jaune couldn't help but gasp at that revelation. He knew that immortality was a thing in this world, and it made sense that if there was one immortal, there might be another. But to know that Mother… Mother had a husband once seemed unbelievable. That her greatest enemy was… well, it made the whole thing, the grand conflict between the Grimm and the world of Remnant feel so… so trivial!

But it also raised another question, one that was evidently written clearly on Jaune's face.

"No," Ozpin shook his head, "you are not the first children she has raised. Our… daughters were our pride and joy. We…" and then his face darkened in a way Jaune had never expected to see with the quirky Headmaster, "Losing them was, and still is, the greatest pain I have ever felt and… and it set into motion this conflict that has spanned untold generations and you, sadly, now find yourself caught in, alongside your siblings."

"Why..." Jaune choked out as sought his words, "Why are you telling me this? Ozma was… I mean, you are Mother's greatest enemy. And I am..."

"My enemy as well?"

Jaune couldn't answer that question, only looking away in discomfort. To say it so bluntly… Mother always told him that, as Royalty, he merely needed to maintain a stern distance from everything else beneath him. Jaune, who always wanted to be with his sisters, in their tasks and in their skills, hated that advice more than anything. But right now, what he wouldn't give for the power to stare down the Headmaster with noble disdain.

Ozpin, or… Ozma, Jaune supposed, just leaned back in his chair. "I had a conversation recently, with James Ironwood of Atlas—you met him your first night here, and I suspect you remember him."

Jaune remembered the intensity, the presence of the military commander seeming to fill the entire room as he was introduced to Jaune. His handshake grip being as intense as Jaune's own, Grimm-infused strength.

But Jaune mostly remembered how worried he was for Weiss when she met the Atlesian general, that she might become frightened by him or the way he represented her homeland. And the pride he felt as she curtsied and introduced herself graciously… now mired in the guilt that came with knowing that "Nice Weiss" was a hated fiction for his sister, tied to the guilt he now had, his utter obliviousness to his sisters' true feelings, the loves and the pains they hid from him.

"You seem to have some dark thoughts troubling you," Ozpin noted, interrupting Jaune's reverie, "Though I cannot blame you. I think we are all caught in something similar right now."

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked again.

It was critical information, a grand secret behind the entire world, something Blake didn't even know… but Mother did. And Mother had hid it from him. Was that the Headmaster's gambit? Was he trying to divide them?

Ozpin looked at him sadly. "Because you need to know the truth. Because, as tragic as your situation is, you are the Prince of the Grimm. And that means we are geopolitical peers. As I am on the Council of Vale and Headmaster to Beacon, you have a position of authority in the Grimmlands. You are an agent of your own fate, and you are entitled to know the truth."

Jaune looked down, sullenly. Once again, it felt like he was caught in a current of time, where the simple truths of his childhood, the duty to protect his sisters, the challenge of enduring Mother's anger, no longer were enough for him. He was the Prince of the Grimm. His life was measured in terms of a global war as surely as it was the fact that his two closest advisors were… in love with him. And Weiss and Emerald, the one's he wanted most dearly to cherish and protect, held secret fears they couldn't let him know. Because they feared even more how he'd react to them.

He felt wretched. He needed to be more mature, less childish, but right now, he was being torn apart by them both. In his private life, he had left his sisters utterly ruined because he couldn't find a way to reciprocate their feelings or be a good brother, but in his public life, he was discovering that he had a duty to oppose the man he was speaking to… that Ozpin was his greatest enemy.

"I can tell that… this is an unfair, an unjust situation we are putting you in," the Headmaster continued, knowingly, "But… I am revealing my greatest secret to you, in truth, because of what I told James, before he returned to Atlas. When speaking to him, I... thought about you. About your recent interview and how you have comported yourself on this visit, and… I told him, as someone who knows the Queen better than anyone else in this world, I am quite amazed that my Salem could raise a child as noble and dignified and kind-hearted as you."

An echo in Jaune's mind, Cinder's voice, from his first night at Beacon, her asking him in amazement how Mother could have ever raised... someone like him.

"You returned my sword to me, perhaps not knowing its exact value, but because you were searching for something to show your sincerity. You and your siblings have, as I am sure you are aware, been under the greatest scrutiny, but everywhere I look, I see genuine kindness and compassion. You are here because you want peace and you want peace because you care for people."

Jaune didn't know how to respond to that, didn't know what that might look like. Compliments were… not something he was used to. But he couldn't just spend this whole meeting in dull silence. "It really… It sucks, though."

Ozpin's facade cracked with a slight smirk at Jaune's crudeness. "Yes, it does, doesn't it? And it may feel like weakness, Jaune, but… it is strength. The strength to show kindness and grace in a world that encourages and expects cruelty and suspicion. You have an incredible strength within you and you show that strength before me right now."

Standing up from his chair, he beckoned Jaune to follow him to the window, looking out over the Emerald Forest. All around them, gears were turning, the machinery of an enormous clock endlessly tick, tick, ticking away as the two of them stood together, side by side, gazing out into the far unknown.

Ozpin continued speaking. "You have endured more in these past fifteen years than most ever see in their entire lives, with less support and security than anyone else in the world. You are more than what your mother expects of you, and you have proven it over and over again. I want you to know… I'm proud of you, Jaune."

Jaune's breath caught, his throat choked to hear the Headmaster say it.

"All of Remnant is proud of you, and our Kingdoms are united in support of you five. Your strength may not yet be known to all, but… I believe in you, Jaune. I believe in all of you. And if you can extend that same faith to us… I do believe you might be able to achieve the peace you seek. And I will do everything in my power to help you accomplish that."

Turning to look Jaune in the eye, Ozpin nodded. "I don't know what form that help might take, but whatever you need… we are here for you. You and your sisters. It might take time before all of Remnant comes to trust you, but… I have known Remnant longer than anyone else alive, and her people… they'll do the right thing. I know they will."

Jaune couldn't hold his gaze any longer, looking out over the great expanse of green that stretched out before them. It was… peaceful out there. So peaceful. So distant. It felt like the two of them were a hundred miles away from the rest of the world, from the churning turmoil down below, from Mother's dread reach. And that made Jaune think of something.

"Mother…" he quietly said, screwing up his courage to admit something that reigned in his mind but was never spoken, "There was a time when I was sick, after… after I took to the Darkness, and I… I was having nightmares and," he swallowed nervously, "and one night, I… I went to Mother, and she… let me sit on her lap. And she sang me a lullaby, and..."

It took a moment for the Headmaster to respond. "Did it," he asked, his voice choked with emotion, "Did it go like this?" and he hummed a few bars that triggered an incredible sense of remembering in Jaune.

"Yeah," he answered, hoarsely.

"She used to sing that same lullaby to our daughters."

They stared out into the unknown together. Jaune didn't know what the Headmaster, what the legendary Ozma, was thinking right now, but he knew that, for once in his life, he was speaking to someone who actually knew Mother. Who understood her. And yet… he was someone Jaune knew he could not trust.

He still felt like he was in two worlds, the world of geopolitical conflict and the world of his own family, and both worlds still seemed poised to tip in on the other. So much was still unsettled with Blake and Pyrrha, so much still was unsettled with Mother and the Headmaster, but… but he felt more able to handle it. Not because of the Headmaster's promise, even Jaune could tell that it would take a very long time before Remnant could trust a creature of the Grimm like himself, but because… because he'd never heard an adult say they were proud of him before.

And it meant the world to Jaune.

Weiss didn't like this "Miss Goodwitch."

She didn't have funny stories like Professor Port. She wasn't nice and didn't bring her cookies or take her to frogs like Ruby. And she was very scared, which Weiss didn't like at all. Everyone was scared, and Weiss didn't like it.

And… she reminded Weiss a lot of the Pretty Lady. And Weiss really didn't like that.

So when she asked to talk, Weiss said no and pushed her out of the room so she could go back to her coloring books. And nobody bothered her for a while after that.

But then Ms. Fall knocked on the door and asked if she could come in. And Weiss knew she was probably going to get in trouble for pushing Miss Goodwitch, so she said yes and then Ms. Fall came in.

Weiss could taste the anxiety radiating off Ms. Fall. Anxiety, fear… and guilt. A lot of guilt. Ms. Fall was guilty a lot, and it had been getting worse recently. Weiss worried for everyone in her life, but she didn't know how to worry for Ms. Fall.

She wanted to go find Ruby, to go back to the frog pond, to just pretend that everything was okay, that the day would never end… but she couldn't leave. Not while her family was hurting. Weiss didn't know what she could do for Jaune and Pyrrha and Emerald and Blake, but she wanted to do something. She wished she could just find a really big frog and it would make everyone happy, that it would make everything better.

But she wasn't sure there was a frog big enough for this.

She kicked her feet idly in her seat. She wished Ruby was here. Or Jaune. Or… anyone. She just felt sad, and didn't know how to make it better.

"Weiss?" Ms. Fall asked, "Are you… alright?"

"Mmmf," she mumbled in response, looking back on her coloring book. She didn't want to talk right now, and she especially didn't want to talk about how she felt. Everybody else was sad and Weiss wanted to cheer them all up, but she didn't know how. She was focusing on coloring in a picture of a dragonfly when she felt the bed creak as Ms. Fall took a seat next to her.

Weiss kept coloring, but now that someone was next to her, she felt like there was a question in her throat, and she couldn't keep it down. Even though she didn't want to ask it at all, she had to.

"Ms. Fall?" she asked, nervously, "Is… are they gonna be okay? I'm… I'm scared."

Ms. Fall hesitated, then rested a gentle hand on Weiss's shoulder. It wasn't much, but this contact was everything to Weiss right now, who started to sniffle. She… she had to be brave. Had to stay strong. Cause everyone had a lot on their plate right now, and the only thing Weiss knew she could do was to not be a problem for anyone else.

"Your siblings… you're all such strong, such brave kids. I… you'll make it through this, I promise."

But there was something dark inside her. That guilt, that feeling that the she hated herself… and that she was lying. That Ms. Fall knew she was lying.

But Jaune… Jaune would want her to be good. To be his brave little sister and do the right thing.

So she wrapped her arms around Ms. Fall's waist and gave her a hug, hearing her gasp in surprise… and then put her arms around Weiss.

And they just held each other, for a while.

It felt nice.

"It's gonna be okay," she said, like Jaune did. Like Ms. Fall did. "I promise."

Ms. Fall sniffled a little with her arms around Weiss and held her, too. And it felt nice. Weiss wished things were more like this. Where they could all be more happy and more okay with each other.

Something… something pushed her, inside, and Weiss added, "Sometimes… when I don't wanna do something… I just don't do it. And it works out, sometimes. And if it doesn't… I can tell you where the good hiding places are. So you can use them, too."

Cinder stopped for a minute, like she was about to say something. Then she just hugged Weiss tighter and whispered, "I… thank you, Weiss. Thank you."

They just held each other a little more.

Weiss shifted nervously, suddenly remembering that she might be in trouble already. "Could you…" she asked, timidly, "Could you ask Jaune not to be mad at me for pushing Ms. Goodwitch?"

"I can," Cinder said, quietly. Saying it seemed to cheer her up a bit, which made Weiss feel a little better. "I promise."

There may not be a big enough frog to help them out :(

20 chapters and 100,000 words... kind of a shock that I've written that much and the story's still not finished, but it's been a real pleasure writing and posting it!

The idea of a lullaby passing down through the generations of Remnant was inspired by OtakuWithHazelEye's really exceptional Ozma and Salem fics, particularly "Warrior's Lullaby." Check it out! And, as always, thanks to Renarde for feedback on this chapter!