The past two days had been the longest, most unending moment in Pyrrha's life, but she knew things weren't over yet. Blake and Emerald seemed better. Weiss, sweet girl that she was, was trying everything to make people feel better, even trying to make up for candies and treats she had stolen from each of their stashes with little apologies. And Jaune…
Pyrrha couldn't really look at Jaune, not after that night. She felt he didn't know how to look at her, either. It was humiliating to be exposed like that, crushing to know that the man who was most important to her, the man she was sworn to protect was afraid of her, but worst of all… she hated herself for even thinking this, but if she had been only a little more selfish… she would have gotten everything she'd ever wanted.
And she could even lie to herself that Jaune would come to enjoy it. Learn that he loved her as much as she loved him. She wasn't really trying to force herself upon him, he…
Pyrrha wanted to be sad. Wanted to be depressed like Blake and Emerald and Weiss and Jaune were, where she could just cry on Mrs. Rose's shoulder and feel better about it afterwards. But she couldn't, because Pyrrha wasn't sad.
She was angry.
And that anger burned within her like an ulcer, a fire in her stomach that had to be released into the world before it burnt her to a crisp from the inside out.
But there was one thing, one singular thing that could quench that fire. That could make everything right. She'd made her sacrifice, but now…
She hadn't spoken to anyone. Not after her meeting with Mrs. Rose. None of them had spoken much. Weiss had given everyone a hug, which had… helped put things into perspective, but it made it impossible to talk about anything. What could Pyrrha say that wouldn't reveal to Weiss what was going on? But she couldn't wait any longer.
Jaune was on his way to… somewhere, it wasn't important, when Pyrrha clasped him by the shoulder without warning. Jaune was startled, but not shocked, as he turned to her, his face telling the story Pyrrha already knew.
"Jaune," she began, "We have to talk."
Resolutely, he nodded, knowing that this couldn't be put off forever.
"Pyrrha-" he began, but Pyrrha couldn't let him speak. Couldn't bear to hear his reasons.
"Do you like me or not!" she blurted out.
He froze.
She saw the same look in his eyes. That same fear that had stopped her before, but she could only hold the fire back so many times. The gates had been broken; the secret was out. She needed to know.
"Jaune… I love you. I've loved you for years and I can't stop. And… and it's more than just that!" The words were spilling out of her now, an uncontrollable flow. "I need you! My whole life, all I've ever wanted is to be at your side, to be your General, your Eagle, leading your armies and delivering the world to you, and now… now I don't know what you want or what I want! And I… I… You… Jaune, you mean… everything to me, and I… I don't just want to be your sister. I… I still want more, and I want… I want you, Jaune. All I want, all I have ever wanted is… you. And I need to know..."
Jaune was trembling now. Pyrrha was terrified to ask the question, but what choice did she have?
"Please..." she whispered, "Please, just..."
"I… Pyrrha, I can't."
There were words. More words. But Pyrrha wasn't hearing them.
Her heart was breaking, the tears watering in her eyes, burning, stinging, as he tried to apologize, tried to explain, but… but there was nothing for this. No explanation. Nothing.
"Jaune, I- I love you, I love you..."
Her words trailed off. What could she say that she hadn't already?
Nothing.
There was nothing left. Nothing here.
And Pyrrha's sorrow curdled into the emotion that had always stood by her. Deep within her soul, deep within the Darkness, she felt her anger surge and boil like acid.
She turned in a fury. She needed to- needed to be not here. She could tear the school brick from brick but she wouldn't let them see her like this.
Jaune tried to stop her from leaving, but Pyrrha… she threw him backwards with a glare. A part of her screamed at the thought that she might have… but she turned away, storming off in a fury, throwing the doors open and hating herself for violating her single greatest rule, the very core reason of her being, but… she was beyond reason here.
Three pairs of eyes immediately turned to her as she stormed out, and Pyrrha could see their security detail tense. Didn't matter; they couldn't stop her.
"Pyrrha..." Mrs. Rose nervously began, "Are you-"
"I'm heading out," she growled.
Mr. Branwen looked alarmed at that. "You can't-"
"We can't detain you," Mrs. Rose swiftly cut him off, "We just ask that you return before sundown."
Roughly shoving past them, Pyrrha stormed out of the hall. A fight would have been good. Would have given her something to vent her fury on, let her tear this whole stupid peace mission to pieces. With every step, the rage inside her grew, the ground quaking under her footfalls as she radiated her anger into the world.
Soon, that fireball inside her was an inferno, and her composure broke. No longer storming off, she had broken into a sprint through the hall, and when she reached the end of it, she didn't stop, leaping through the window, feeling the glass shatter against her as she dove from the building, plummeting to the ground below, a cascade of crystal sparkling around her.
She hit the ground with a mighty thump, the concrete path giving way against her force as she straightened up from her landing. There was no one around, but she knew if there was, they'd be running. But she felt the pull of action, the lure of a target she knew she could break apart in her bare hands!
With a primal glee, she sprinted forward, seeing the cliff ahead of her and the Emerald Forest stretching out. Full of Grimm lurking beneath the treeline, and as Pyrrha leapt from the cliff, she thought about Yang's comments about "landing strategies" as she commanded the Grimm of the forest to show themselves.
A pack of Beowulves proved an excellent landing opportunity for her as she plunged onto the Alpha, clutching it by the head as her feet smashed into its chest, knocking the beast to the ground. With a savage fury, she crushed the creature's skull in her hands and let loose her bellowing war cry.
The rest of the pack, with their leader dead and Pyrrha's scream echoing in their ears, attempted to flee, but they were lesser Grimm, mere puppets of the darkness. She commanded them to fight and fight they did, turning and snarling and attempting to attack her only to discover that they were just smoke and air against her fists as she tore them apart effortlessly.
Not enough, she willed to the Forest, Not yet enough. Come to me. Fight me. Not enough!
With monstrous force, she vented her fury upon the woods around her, a mighty crack sounding as a tree in front of her split lengthwise, then began to shatter into splinters that went up in a gout of black flame. Tree after tree followed her lead, her fury boiling over as, through the pulse of her will, she cried out, COME TO ME! FACE ME AND FIGHT ME!
A great lumbering noise told her she had her opponent, staggering through the forest. A Deathstalker. Old enough to know what it was facing here. Not powerful enough to resist the call. And so Pyrrha could taste its fear.
It tried to fight her. To hold up against her fury, but what hope did it have? As it tried to swipe towards her with its claw, Pyrrha's right hand met it with a backhanded slap, the hard plates of the claw shattering against her. The Deathstalker screamed in its inhuman, chitinous voice, desperately attempting to get her with its tail. Foolish. It was only giving her another weapon.
Seizing the creature's stinger in her hands, Pyrrha felt the rage come upon her, seeing red, seeing blood, as she plunged the stinger right into the creatures own back, smashing through its armor, stabbing again and again and again until the beast was just a ruined pile of Grimm matter, disintegrating in the sunlight.
Not enough. Not strong enough. Couldn't even last long enough to let her vent her wrath upon it!
Pyrrha tore through the forest in a blinding fury. Deeper and deeper she went, through wood and brush and Grimm, nothing stopped her. She burst into a ruin of stone and brick and something about it, something about being useless and abandoned stoked her fury higher. Stones crumbling beneath her fingers like so much water, trees splintering from the intensity of her glare before she could even strike out at them! But it wasn't enough!
She sent out the Call, demanding that any Grimm in the forest present themselves, come to her, and face her fury directly. She could feel the Grimm horde, unable to resist her call despite their best efforts. She could taste their fear. Nothing else in the world could make Grimm feel fear but Pyrrha was not like anything else in the world! She was the mightiest beast of them all and the world itself trembled beneath her!
Small Grimm weren't enough. Piteous nothings, creatures that did not matter. But she could feel something. Something bigger. Stronger.
A Wyvern. Big. Old. It'd last against her. At least a few minutes, something to sink her teeth into as she made it bleed for her! She felt the pull of the Darkness within her, the unstoppable force of her birthright as she began to rouse the creature from its slumber, began the command for it to face her in battle!
But… no. Something bigger approached her. Something even more dangerous.
"Emerald..." she growled as she turned to face her sister, "what do you want?"
Her sister stood at the other end of the ruins, making no attempt to hide herself. Mistake.
"To bring you back," she said. "To bring you home."
"I'm fine!" Pyrrha spat, "I just need to-"
"Do you think," Emerald exploded, "you look fine? Pyrrha, you're tearing the entire-"
Pyrrha gripped a chunk of rubble and flung it at Emerald, who effortlessly sidestepped it. "You can't just throw things at me until I go away! We're not children any-"
Another, bigger piece of rubble was hurled, this one even faster. Emerald had to split her body down the middle to dodge this one.
"You're just throwing a tantrum!" Emerald accused, "Do you even think-"
"SHUT UP!" she yelled, "JUST SHUT! UP!"
Emerald glared back at her, her eyes shifting into a furious red… the same red as Jaune's eyes. Another mistake. And then she opened her mouth and made her third.
"Make me."
With a primal scream, Pyrrha surged forward. Emerald was fast, but Pyrrha was the Eagle, and her strikes were as swift as they were merciless, effortlessly connecting her fist with her sister's chest, sending her hurtling backwards into the ruins.
Her body warped in midair. Nothing in Remnant fought like Emerald did, and Pyrrha knew that, even if Emerald wasn't in her league, her sister was a dangerous foe.
She could see the way she turned her momentum around a tree trunk, the musculature of her legs reshaping as she moved to spring at Pyrrha. Planting her feet squarely, she prepared to receive her sister's assault, watching as time slowed down, the trajectory of her assault clear… and foolish.
Emerald lashed forward, more like a rubber band than animal musculature, flying at top speed as Pyrrha, with a roar, prepared to receive her, swinging her fist forward into-
Nothing.
Pyrrha whiffed, and realized too late that Emerald had snapped into a handspring at the last second, bounding straight up—Pyrrha was briefly blinded by the glare of the sun—until gravity reasserted itself upon her, and she plummeted down, her claws long and gleaming sharp, as Pyrrha could now personally attest to. Emerald's claws were sharper than any blade, and they tore through Pyrrha's body, lines of black blood spurting behind them. A good hit. Lucky. But not enough.
Pyrrha's fist crashed into Emerald's jaw, sending her reeling backwards. If she was anything other than a shapeshifter, anything other than Pyrrha's sister, that blow would have been enough. Enough to kill.
If that thought was her mind attempting to reassert her compassion, her sisterly bond, it failed. Pain still lanced through her as her body reknit itself from the damage, the black corruption oozing and smoking on her skin, but Pyrrha didn't feel pain like mortals did. It didn't slow her down. Didn't weaken her. It let her give herself over to the Darkness inside her, to call forth power itself!
She was upon Emerald in a moment, engaged in hand-to-hand combat. She could call down her Armory and end it, but she needed a target she could vent her rage upon and Emerald could hold her fury like this… at least, for a little while.
Blow against blow were exchanged, the forest crumbling all around them. Pyrrha was stronger, Emerald more evasive, but they still struck without hesitation or pause. When Pyrrha's fury was this engaged, she became akin to another Pool of Darkness, her trace becoming a toxic miasma that could summon the Grimm out of nothing. These Grimmlings were small and unfocused, not worth Pyrrha's time, and so they fled immediately, a raucuos, panicked chorus that provided the score for their sisterly duel.
Snapping up a tree as a cudgel, she swung it lengthwise, Emerald barely evading. A Grimmling was less fortunate, splattering against the timber with a squawk. But it had forced Emerald to duck and opened-
Suddenly, Emerald barked, "How much longer do you need?"
It was the one attack Pyrrha hadn't prepared for. A question. She froze, but Emerald did not take advantage of her opportunity. Instead, she took a moment to… dust herself off, straighten her arm back out, and glare at Pyrrha.
"What," Pyrrha, at last, asked, "what do you mean?"
"You wanted to go out here and hit things for a while, how much longer are you going to take?"
Pyrrha smoked with fury. Of all the- how could she even- how dare she! "What do you think this is, a tantrum?"
Emerald rolled her eyes. "Obviously. You only do it every time Jaune doesn't-"
"Shut up!"
"No!" Emerald yelled, the intensity of her anger surprising Pyrrha, "No, this time, you shut up. Do you have any idea how frustrating you are!" Emerald snarled.
Pyrrha glared at her sister, seeing how she flinched from the intensity of her gaze. Good. Pyrrha could crank up the heat… "I'm frustrating? Me? I'm not the one who ruined everything, who told Jaune-"
"Who told him what?" Emerald spat, "It's not like either of you were subtle about it! What, were you working up the courage to tell him? For the past four years? How much longer would you-"
"Do you have any idea what you've taken from me, you-"
"You have everything I have ever wanted!" Emerald blurted out, but at that, her anger suddenly broke, her shoulder's slumping as her words became tremulous, "M-my whole life… Pyrrha, I've always looked up to you… I," and she gave a harsh, sobbing laugh, "I'm actually a whole year older than you, but you've- you've always been my big sister. The strong, invincible Pyrrha, our leader, Jaune's favorite-"
"I'm not his-"
"YOU ARE!"
Pyrrha looked at her sister in stunned surprise. She'd never heard Emerald so angry before, never heard anyone address her with such fury. It briefly blew out her wrath like a candle, the tree trunk dropping from her suddenly listless arm, but her anger was potent, quick to reignite.
"It doesn't matter who is the-"
"No," Emerald cut her off, "You don't get it. I'm mad at you b-because..." she clenched her fist and her jaw tightened before she finally forced the words out, "Because you're better than me. You've always been the one who I turned to when I needed to not feel afraid. You're stronger than Mother and you shouldn't have to be afraid of anything! And it's… it's frustrating that you're letting yourself get pushed around like this!"
Pyrrha was knocked off her rhythm "I'm not getting pushed around," she grumbled back.
"You are!" Emerald laughed, a wild, delirious thing. "You stormed out of the room, ran out of the school, jumped off a cliff, and started breaking things and you think this is you in control?"
Throwing wide her arms, Emerald forced Pyrrha to look around her, seeing the rubble and splintered trees about them, the scar of destruction she carved into the forest on her path from the school.
"You make me so mad, sometimes," she complained, but her voice sounded sadder than anything. "You're stronger than me and more in control than I am and you make it all seem so effortless, and yet... and yet it's just not enough! And how can I ever be enough if you don't feel like it's enough and that's crazy, but it's true and I just... I want to be happy and you want to be happy, but... Pyrrha..." Emerald said, her voiced pained, "what do you want?"
"I don't..." Pyrrha admitted, "I just don't… know anymore. I want… I want Jaune, but I want him to- I want him to want me, and I don't know how to make that happen."
Emerald stepped forward, gingerly, approaching Pyrrha and laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. Pyrrha didn't stop her. Even her reflexes, even the Darkness had no call for action here. She was just… tired.
"Maybe… maybe we can have a purpose outside of Jaune. Maybe we can live our own lives, and-"
"But I love him!" Pyrrha wailed.
Emerald was quick to protest. "So do I! But… I don't… I don't think I've been listening to him. I was so, so preoccupied with being useful to him, that I just had to be the best Shrike I could be, and he… he never cared about that. He just wanted me to be his sister."
Pyrrha looked up to Emerald, her eyes red with tears and heavy with grief. "But I want… I don't just want to be his sister! I want him to… I want him to love me. Like I love him."
Emerald sat down on the shattered stump of a pillar, and Pyrrha joined her. "I dunno," she said, "I really don't."
"What would Ms. Fall say?" Pyrrha sniped, then immediately felt guilty for being mean about that.
But Emerald just shrugged. "I've learned that… maybe Ms. Fall didn't have all the answers. Or even… good answers. Maybe we just need to actually get to know new people and… and maybe we just have to stop thinking of ourselves as warriors all the time! I mean, can Jaune love you like that if you're committed to following his every command? You want him to love you, but what you want him to love is the Eagle. Maybe you've got to, I dunno, just… just stop being the Eagle for a little while. Let him see more of Pyrrha, and… and I think… I think you'd like that."
Emerald's voice had grown soft, but the meaning in it, so warm, so generous, almost moved Pyrrha to tears. Blinking the wetness from her eyes, she leaned her head on her sister's shoulder.
"It's hard," she said.
"I know," Emerald replied.
The two of them sat together a little longer in silence. Emerald had never been… Pyrrha's closest sister, but she remembered there were good times for the both of them. Sparring in the courtyard. Going on hunting trips. Making little jokes about Blake when she was getting bossy, or Tyrian when he was getting too weird. Or the night before Emerald's birthday, when they'd come together to protect Jaune from Geryon. Her memories affirmed, again and again, that they were sisters, no matter what differences they had, that they would always be sisters.
"You ready to go home?"
Pyrrha looked around the ruined… ruins. The splinters of wood and rock littered everywhere, the deep gouges in the dirt from her anger. And she felt… she felt she'd gotten it out of her system. For now, at least.
"Yeah."
Well, that had been a close one.
Summer, in all honesty, had anticipated things to blow up in their faces yesterday. Last time they tried splitting up the kids and put them in emotionally stressful situations, they had…
Her eyes involuntarily traced to Clover's hand, remembering the photos and Qrow's description of how hideously burnt his skin had been in the hospital. Right now, that hand was being used to pass out dossiers. Intelligence reports collected on today's blowup. She leafed through it, absentmindedly, since she'd already heard most of what was in it in the pre-meeting meeting she'd had with the other Valeans, but it still painted a picture Summer didn't like to see.
The room was tense. Ozpin, and Glynda were keeping their cards close to their breasts—Summer knew it was the smart move, but it left her feeling cut out of the loop. A feeling she didn't like, so used as she was to being in the decision room, a full equal of Ozpin's Council rank. At least Qrow and Amber were as out-of-the-loop as she was, but while Summer might have wanted the opportunity to commiserate, to go back to how it used to be before she was appointed to the Committee, she knew he had to give the appearance of being in control. They weren't the sort of person who handled tense boardroom meetings. Well, she wasn't someone who handled them well either, but she had more experience with them than they did.
And, of course, there was Winter, looking as frosty as her namesake, well ensconced in her position as the director of the Atlesian force in Vale. Which, under her leadership, was starting to feel more and more like an occupying force poised to just step in and boot the lot of them out. She was flanked by two more Specialists while Clover led the briefing, activating the projector to show an image of Pyrrha landing a punch on Emerald hard enough that Summer was shocked the girl wasn't killed by it.
Hard to imagine that she'd spoken to that same girl the day before. Seen her eat chocolate chip cookies and sullenly try not to show that she enjoyed them. Summer still felt that same pull of compassion, but also a sense that she had failed. She hadn't gotten through to her—or, if she had, offering to be there for her wasn't going to be enough. Pyrrha needed more than that, she needed real mothering, and Summer… Summer couldn't give that to her. Not in a single night.
She could see that the image had fired off a complex mix of emotions amongst her colleagues, and Summer knew to pay attention to the room. First, of course, was that Qrow and Amber were livid that someone would hit Emerald like that. Summer could tell they'd formed a personal connection with her, and especially with Qrow, who was no stranger for being viciously protective of his nieces.
But their tactical minds were also engaged in this. And those minds were worried. Pyrrha clearly was just lashing out at her sister, the two of them fighting the way Qrow and Raven used to fight when they were that age—which meant that Pyrrha wasn't going all out. That that punch they were seeing wasn't as much as she could dish out, and while Emerald could easily endure it, the average Huntsman would be out of the fight on just that!
Qrow and Glynda both seemed to be particularly unsettled by that. But while Qrow was caught up in the emotions of it all, Glynda's experienced and analytical eye was clearly focusing on the fact that they'd misjudged the situation. Pyrrha didn't fight like anything else they expected, hitting harder than they'd imagined and simply able to rip through the Grimm of the forest—and even the forest itself—like it was nothing. And the way the trees disintegrated, or simply burst into black flame, like her anger was vented upon them... Qrow's assessment after Parent's Night had woefully underestimated how strong the claimed's brawlers were. And that made them all worried.
But Clover started his presentation and brought their attention to the other big issue of the night. That Atlas had seen this.
"From the observation of Specialists Bree and Amin," he gestured to the two younger Specialists who nodded as they were recognized, "we've upgraded our potential threat assessment of the claimed. Pyrrha Nikos and Emerald Sustrai-" Summer noticed that Qrow flinched to hear Emerald's "real" name used so casually, "have been upgraded to Tier 2 Threats."
Right below Salem's tier, alongside Leviathans and other city-level threats were placed. Probably appropriate. Made her worry how much big, bad Tier 1 herself was capable of.
"Damage was, of course, minimal due to all engagements occurring within the Emerald Forest and with neither observer being detected by either combatant. However, it's not hard to imagine what it might be like if that hadn't been the case. We've prepared an assessment of..."
Summer knew all this already. What she was paying attention to was Winter. She was keeping up her mask of studious interest, but Summer had a feeling that she was going to make her opening move any minute now. She hadn't done things so much differently than General Ironwood had, so far, but this was a good opportunity for her to assert her way of doing things. Especially considering that she had been present for the last time one of the claimed had gotten violent.
But as Clover kept up the presentation, Winter wasn't interrupting. Her underlings seemed nervous as all hell, though, and that made Summer worry. They were fairly young Specialists, but… Specialists didn't rattle easy. From what Clover was telling Qrow, things were certainly tense with the change in leadership, but they respected Winter nearly as much as they respected Ironwood, so it was pretty clear that something recent had changed.
Or something Clover hadn't been telling Qrow.
Summer hated that she was considering it, especially with how good they seemed to be for each other, but Qrow and Clover were in a dangerous position, and Summer didn't want her friend to get hurt. But even more so, Summer knew that they were caught in a political intrigue, and there were dangers for all of them here.
"What we're looking at now," Clover continued, "is how to appropriately respond to this: there can be no illusions that we didn't know about the incident, and even if it wasn't an attempt to probe our defenses, if we don't respond, we risk them thinking it's acceptable to have such a reaction… and the next outburst might not be in an unpopulated space."
"Do we, uh," Specialist Bree hesitantly cut in, "do we actually have any authority to discipline them? Some privileges to rescind or ways to affect them in any meaningful way?"
"We can assign Peter to have dinner with them every night for the next week," Qrow cut in, a crude attempt at a joke, but, like everything else, it was really a test of how Winter would respond.
By ignoring it was what appeared to be the answer. Winter merely glanced at her notes, then looked up to Ozpin. "This was, in most respects, a fight between students," she replied cooly, "I would expect the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress to have the most experience with what would be appropriate here?"
That was unexpected. Summer knew not to expect her to call for blood, but to treat this so trivially… she glanced to Qrow and Amber. Amber looked uncertain, but Summer knew how to read Qrow's face on this: she doesn't care about this… because she's got something else up her sleeve.
Glynda cleared her throat. "The standard punishment for unsanctioned fighting between students would be detention, if we take the fighting between Pyrrha and Emerald to be a scuffle with an appropriate amount of force with no risk of injury, of course. We can't suspend them, but in the case of an international student at the Vytal, which, I suppose, they are… we could restrict social opportunities?"
Summer tensed at that. Yes, the Atlesian delegation didn't know—at least, she assumed they didn't know—about the conversations going on, but she knew that punishing the students wouldn't be a meaningful punishment and it would make them even more closed off. Yang had been the one to crack through the claimed's shells because she put herself out there and gave them a space to open up and breathe, space they needed more than ever. Summer's mind whirled, trying to think of an interjection that could-
But then Ozpin cut in. "Or, perhaps, the solution is found in the opposite."
All eyes shifted to the old man. Ozpin was a lot of things, and even a Silver-Eyed Warrior like Summer knew she only scratched the surface of what he knew, was, and was capable of. When he spoke, even if it sounded crazy, people listened.
"Look at the story of what happened," he began, "The both of them relocated to an unpopulated area where, at most, they killed some Grimm and got in a fight—that's something we would consider a good outcome in a situation where two of our students entered an altercation. No one was hurt, and the school disciplinary board," he nodded towards Glynda, "wouldn't recommend a punitive response, understanding that these things... happen, instead focusing on making sure it didn't happen again in the first place."
From the look on Glynda's face Summer could tell that Ozpin was either lying or woefully out of step with how minor discipline was conducted at his school.
"But this was an emotional action—a girl who lacked the social toolkit to productively vent her anger still did so in a safe way. She fought her sister, yes, but that might be how they know to excise their frustrations. We do not know," he said, peering over his spectacles at Winter, "what circumstances they have come to us from. But we know that the circumstances they are in now are unlike any they've experienced before in the Grimmlands. Making progress to helping them understand Remnant and our values would be an emotionally stressful task—if they need to vent stress, I would say our outreach is working."
"What are you proposing?" Clover asked, sitting down and leaning back in his chair. Summer didn't know if she could wholly trust the good-looking Specialist, but… he really seemed to be setting Ozpin up for what they wanted, and Summer was quite thankful they had someone apparently working for them on the Atlesian side.
"The opposite of a detention—more social opportunities, more chances to have positive interactions with students and the people of Vale."
"The situation with the assassination of Isaac Plum pushes me to concern," Winter rebutted, her voice quiet, but forceful.
Looking back at her with an unreadable expression, Ozpin nodded. "The situation there is of extreme concern, but, at present, we have no reason to suspect the Grimmlands, least of all the claimed, had a role in it."
Summer nodded, seeing a chance to chime in. "I'll give the VPD credit on this… their aggressive response to investigating the shooting—and the assistance the Atlesian military detachment is offering—has done a lot to calm tensions. Ms. Fall denounces the shooting, and… well, to be honest, I think I might actually believe her."
Even Qrow raised an eye at that. Especially Qrow raised an eye at that. Ever since the word "assassin" had come up in the news, Qrow had brought up the possibility Summer didn't want to consider: that Raven might be involved. She didn't like to consider it, but Summer, knew she had an answer for why she could trust Ms. Fall, if "trust" was the right word for it.
"Jaune clearly wants the diplomatic approach to succeed," she said, and Ozpin gave a slight nod of agreement to that, "and Ms. Fall, for all her… behavior, answers to him."
"Unless he's deceiving you," Winter carefully retorted. Summer didn't have a mind reading Semblance, but she could clearly tell she was thinking of her meeting with her sister, and how quickly it went from joyful reunion to nightmarish horror.
"He's not."
Ozpin's response, as declarative and confident as it was, seemed to shock even the Ice Queen a little. "I have spoken to Jaune in private, and I have discussed this situation with General Ironwood—as I'm sure he's told you."
If there was one thing Oz was good at, it was making it hard to tell if he was just acknowledging a fact or setting up an argument or striking out with a barb. He was a damn cool customer, and Summer had to respect him for it.
"But," he continued, "it is my sincere belief that, whatever else can be said of the Grimmlands, we cannot treat the claimed as though they are just an extension of the Queen's will. Having spoken to the Queen..." his voice trailed, darkly, "I believe that she's testing us and them in equal measure. Therefore, it is imperative that we show her that the Kingdoms of Remnant are united and strong, strong enough not to give into fear and extend them the grace we would any other student."
Clover chuckled, his carefree laugh a welcome reprieve for the relentless weightiness of the room. "You've got something in mind, don't you?"
"I don't," Ozpin said.
"But the kids do," Summer finished, finally bringing up something Yang had mentioned to her before everything went to hell. Something she'd been thinking of for a long while now. "A visit. To Vale. Proper, not just a guarded hotel room."
She braced for Winter to blow up on them, to call them out for the terrible idea that it was, or for the work it'd thrust onto the Atlesian forces, but… it didn't come. Winter just nodded. "I expect an observation-"
"Qrow and Clover could do it!" Amber cut in, reminding everyone she was in the room and also fairly bored. Qrow scowled, but Clover stifled a guffaw, and the contrast made it hard for Summer to keep from laughing, too.
It even seemed to be enough to put a crack in Winter's facade. "Alright, then. Specialist Ebi, you and Qrow Branwen will serve as escort for the claimed. I… don't believe that this is necessarily the wisest course of action, but as I have established, I understand this to be a school disciplinary issue—I defer to your expertise, Headmaster."
With that, the Specialist was clearly finished with the meeting, and the Atlesian delegation began to pack up their papers. Amber shot Summer an uncertain glance—what had just happened in the meeting had gone right over her head, but Summer knew her debriefing would just be a number of "I don't knows"—but more importantly, Qrow looked to Clover with a look that Summer could easily read of relief… and gratitude. And Clover gave him a warm look of his own.
They were good for each other. And after so long with Qrow malingering from one failed relationship to loveless one-night stands, it gave Summer a powerful and motherly feeling of relief to see her favorite crow stretch his wings and fly.
But people were packing up to go, because they all knew the sooner they started the post-meeting meeting the sooner they'd be done with it, and so Summer scooped up her papers and moved to leave.
"Specialist Schnee?" the Headmaster suddenly asked, stopping everyone in their tracks, "I know you'll be reporting this to General Ironwood later—I would ask you to let him know that I agree with his assessment of the claimed, and that I am carrying out what I believe he would do, in my situation."
Then he turned and left.
Pyrrha's a tough character to write and give focus to when so much of her character in this story has been that she's hollowed out her identity. But she's someone who's really important to the story and showing the immaturity that belies her character. She and Blake are the most outwardly composed of the girls, but that whole thing's built on a house of cards, compared to insecure Emerald who, by constantly confronting her own limitations, has a much easier time growing away from what she once was.
It's tough to balance an ensemble cast like this, and I do feel that Pyrrha's one of the most shortchanged of the main characters, but I do what I can to make sure that characters build off of each other as attention rotates through the central cast.
Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this chapter!