"Pyrrha!"
Weiss sprang to her side and threw her sister into a hug, like she'd been doing every time Pyrrha came into a room since her outburst.
"Weiss, uh," Blake said, "you don't have to hug her every time she-"
"But you said I had to be extra-special nice to Pyrrha because she was feeling down! …and that I'd get ice cream cake if I did it."
Pyrrha had to laugh at that, wrapping her arms around her sister. "And have you gotten your ice cream cake yet?"
"No," Weiss responded, the lights in the room dimming as her voice suddenly turned dark and vengeful.
Chuckling, she squeezed her sister close before letting her go. "I'll talk to Jaune about fixing that."
"Actually…" Blake spoke up, timidly, "Emerald, Weiss and I… we've sent Jaune out on an errand for a bit so we… so we could talk. The four of us."
Emerald patted her hand on the bed next to her and Pyrrha took a seat. Blake and Weiss gathered close, and Blake produced a small, white fingerbone.
Pyrrha reached into her Armory and pulled out a matching one of her own, as did Weiss and Emerald. Holding it in the air, feeling its smooth, ivory white texture beneath her fingers, Pyrrha looked from one bone to the next.
Before Geryon had been sentenced to die, he had confessed to having shoved Jaune into the path of danger. With his right hand. Pyrrha wanted to cut it off right then and there, let it serve as the justice he'd called down upon himself by hurting his Prince. But Blake had objected, had been the voice of wisdom. There was no reason to torture him when the Shrike was the one tasked with distributed their brother's justice.
Though Pyrrha wanted to hear him scream, she couldn't disagree with Blake's reasoning. She deferred to Emerald, who carried out her task she had been raised to do with the skill and swiftness of all her training. Still… the man had broken their most sacred law. And so they had removed the offending hand and each had kept, as a record of their deed, one bone from each of the fingers.
The thumb was Jaune's, but… they had discarded it. He… he wouldn't have understood the significance it had to them, and so they had silently and secretly presented it to him as a trophy, purely in a ritual, a pillow standing in for their brother, and then disposed of it.
But these bones were a sign of their bond. Of their connection as the Birds of Prey, the Daughters of Salem, of… of their sisterhood. They had come together in that moment as one. And if needed, they would always have each other's back. Bringing them out was a sign of truce when they were fighting, a gesture of love when they needed support.
"All we have is each other," Emerald said, "I… I like a lot of the people I've met here, but you guys… you're my sisters. The only people I know will never turn on me, can actually understand what I've been through… because you've been right there with me."
"And I don't want anyone fighting anymore!" Weiss declared, "So if you can't share Jaune-"
"That's not what this is about!" Emerald quickly cut in.
"Well, I don't like it, so if you two can't share Jaune, then I get him," Weiss sad, arms folded across her chest.
Pyrrha… Pyrrha had to admit, the sight of her sister suddenly becoming bossy was cute. And… she had a point. Glancing over to Blake, it was clear that a similar thought was passing through her mind. But this was something that couldn't be done through silent messaging. But… but it was hard. Pyrrha was a warrior and a General, the Eagle of War, not someone who handled messy social situations. She knew how to break things, but to mend them… it was too hard.
No.
No, she couldn't run away here, just because it was "too hard." She was Jaune's foremost lieutenant. And that meant it was her job to take leadership here.
"Blake..." she said, her voice struggling to hold her emotion back, "I… you're precious to me. You all are, and… and we all love each other. And no matter how I feel about Jaune, I wouldn't want to do anything that would cost me my sister. Ever."
Blake blinked away a tear. "Pyrrha," she rasped, her words choked on emotion, "I… you've always been who I've turned to when I'm afraid. You've always been… you're the strongest of us. You're our leader, and… and you're my sister! I'm..." she hesitated a moment, eyes darting to the floor, "And I'm sorry I tried to… I tried to force you. I didn't want… I didn't want to hurt you."
Pyrrha got up from the bed and went over to her sister, wrapping her in a tight hug. The two of them held each other in silence. And just for a while, that was all there was. Her and Blake, in silence.
Eventually, Pyrrha gently released her sister, and she felt… good. Light. Like she'd just let go of a burden she'd been carrying for too long, and her muscles could finally relax.
"There's more," Blake said as she looked to Pyrrha, her face obviously wrought with awkward uncertainty. "I got… I got a message from Yang..." she admitted, "that I… didn't want to respond to, but she- she wants," Blake struggled to force her tongue to say the words, "she wants to hang out with you, me, and Jaune… and get… dinner together. Just the four of us."
Pyrrha stared at her sister in disbelief.
"I've told her she can't call it a double date, but… I think it would be… good. For the both of us, and… and for Jaune."
"I'm gonna get ice cream with Emerald and Ruby," Weiss interrupted, "So you don't have to worry about me while you're on your date!"
"It's not a date!" Emerald threw up her hands in exasperation, "We talked about this before Pyrrha got here!"
"But..." Blake smiled, slyly, "I don't think… I don't think it'd be the worst thing for you, me, and Jaune to get dinner together and… well, you know-"
"And Yang'll be there!" Weiss chimed in.
"Weiss!" Emerald cried, "I specifically told you-"
"But it's true! She's going to be there!"
But Emerald and Weiss's shouting was easily tuned out by Pyrrha. Her eyes were on Blake. Where she stood with Jaune was… was something Pyrrha was struggling with. But she still needed to know where she stood with Blake.
"We're… we're still sisters, and," Blake swallowed nervously, "still… friends, right?"
Pyrrha didn't hesitate to answer.
"Always."
"I need your help."
Jaune looked, shame-faced, to his friends as he admitted something Mother had told him to never do to someone who wasn't family. It was the kind of weakness that she abhorred, coming right after his own moment of treacherous temptation with the Headmaster's kindness. But he needed to do this. He needed to do this right.
"Well, you've come to the right place," Neptune said with a wide grin. "Cause when it comes to girls-"
"He didn't say anything about girls," Ren corrected.
Neptune scoffed. "It's obviously about a girl. What else makes a man look like this?"
"The cops could be after him," Sun suggested, "That's what I'm-"
But his words set Fox off. "What cops? He's a foreign dignitary! What cop is going to arrest the Prince of the Grimm for any-"
"You may have chosen the wrong group to turn to for help," Ren told him flatly.
But Jaune just laughed. After… after everything that was going on, it was good to have some levity. He wasn't sure if… if things between him and Pyrrha had been ruined forever. Blake told him that they'd be okay, that Pyrrha just needed a little space and Emerald had said she wasn't mad at him, but he still… He needed to make it up to her. Simple as that.
And… and Jaune wanted to- to find out if he was capable of being what Pyrrha wanted from him.
She was… she was beautiful. Not just her… figure, it was still difficult to think of Pyrrha in those terms, but that she had the grace and inner strength that left Jaune awed. She didn't fear the Darkness, not like he did. He hid from it, pushed it away, but Pyrrha embraced it—she offered to sacrifice every scrap of herself in exchange for their protection. How could he not love her? Everything that mattered to Jaune, Pyrrha was the paragon of.
She had always been his closest sister, his personal bodyguard in Mother's eyes, but more than that. His confidant, his lieutenant. He trusted her more than anything, she was his rock. She was dearer and more precious to him than anyone else, and… and he wanted to show her that. To open his heart to her, to try and be something more than a child. But he didn't know how.
As the boys continued their raucous argument, now quarreling if it was less bad to commit a crime if it was an impressively involved and sufficiently cool crime, Jaune knew he'd come to the right place.
"I, uh, actually do need help about a girl."
"CALLED IT!" Neptune cheered.
"Wait!" Fox cut in, "Who? No offense, but… wait, is it Dew? Holy shit, I heard the rumors, but-"
"No, no, no!" Jaune quickly cut in. He didn't even know who "Dew" was. "It's, um… it's..." he cleared his throat, "There's a, uh, cultural interchange event at, um, a restaurant, and… I-I'm going with my sisters, Blake and Pyrrha, and-"
"Both of them! Niiiiiiiice!"
"Sun, what the f-"
"It's not like that!" Jaune said, a fluster of protests, "I mean, it, uh, it kind of is? I just, I mean—they, um, came on to me and-"
A chorus of "Niiiiice!" cut him off.
Even Ren had a faint, irrepressible grin on his face. "I understand that you're facing a hardship," he said, "but it is rather impressive."
Jaune felt his cheeks grow hot. He supposed it was. None of what he knew of romance involved a man with two girls, though, he'd never really thought of the sort of thing Blake had shown him except in the most abstract yearnings until she and Pyrrha undressed and presented themselves to him.
"I just… need some advice. A-about getting dinner with them! Just dinner."
Neptune's eyes got wide. "You've come to the right-"
"Do not listen to Neptune!" Fox protested.
"Uh, a date with two girls? Come on man, it's-"
"It's not, uh, a date," Jaune said weakly, but was largely ignored as Fox, Neptune, and Sun were caught up in an argument about their respective romantic prowess.
"Don't worry," Ren quietly said as he pulled Jaune aside, "I can tell you what you need to know. How about we slip out, and I'll walk you through this over tea?"
Jaune smiled, a surge of relief in his chest. "That'd be great," he said.
And the two of them left the other three to their argument.
Qrow and Amber had promised Emerald they'd make sure that Mrs. Rose signed off on her and Weiss getting a chance to go into the town with Ruby (Weiss's insistence) and minimal chaperoning (for some reason, Amber felt that there'd be little objection to Qrow and Clover having the task, a joke Emerald didn't get). But there was one last thing she needed.
And Cinder owed her a big favor.
So she had arranged a very particular meeting for Emerald, one that she was as incredibly nervous to attend as she had been to come out to her siblings.
"Ahem," Emerald said, trying her hardest not to blush as the other side of the table tried to suss her out. "Ms. Neopolitan," she began, looking at the radiant assassin giving her a playful smile that made Emerald's knees start buckling, even though she was sitting down, "I think… I have been thinking that… I don't want to..."
Ohhhhhhh, everything was making her so nervous!
Why did Neopolitan have to be so pretty? And cool? Why did Roman have to be there? And what would happen if she said no? What would happen if they laughed at her? Ohhhhhhh, she didn't like this, didn't like this at all!
But she had to do it! Had to! Had to do it right now!
"Would-you-like-to-go-out-with-me!"
Their faces were easy to read, even without Emerald's talents. Roman's was a mask of horror, even Cinder seemed a little alarmed at the idea, but Neopolitan's had a wonderfully clear response on it.
Sure.
"You would?"
Neopolitan's eyes went up in surprise.You can tell what I'm saying?
"I am, uh, I am a very good face reader, Ms. Neopolitan, um, if you don't, um, mind me calling you-"
Call me Neo.
"O-okay, um, Neo." Emerald stammered, hardly able to believe that she'd actually achieved a date. With Neopol- With Neo!
"Wait," Roman cut in, "Neo, you saw what- Cinder, you can't be seriously-"
"Seriously what, Roman?" Cinder asked, her voice arcing like a whip.
Roman seemed to get the message. Casting one last you can't be serious look to his partner, he stepped back, raising his hands in a sign of defeat.
I've got the perfect place in mind—pick you up at 6?
"I- I-" she struggled to keep her eyes from tearing up as she tried to look cool. "I would love it! I'll meet you at six and- oh! Yeah, um..." she rubbed the back of her neck, "It's kind of, um, not a… date-date?" she said, suddenly feeling like the world's biggest idiot, "Cause, um, my sister and her, um, her friend are also going to be coming along… if that's okay… I'd get it if you didn't want to-"
But the look on Neo's face, the look of pure sweetness and light made all Emerald's worries dissipate into nothingness.
It sounds like fun!
Emerald stifled a giggle, almost unable to believe her luck, shooting a look to Cinder who had her own, suppressed smile. A smile of her quiet pride at Emerald's accomplishment. And she shot a look to Roman who just looked totally bewildered which worked out perfectly for Emerald, too!
Not all things in this world were simple and good. Winter would like to believe in diplomacy and the brotherhood of all nations, but she was a member of the Atlesian military. And as much as it was for an ongoing war against the monsters that surrounded them, Winter was trained in the event that war would be made against humans. Many of the tactics she knew were useless against the Grimm. They were prepared for other scenarios. Still... this was something even further from that.
Assassination was not something Atlas did.
It was forbidden by multiple treaties between the Kingdoms. Outside of a state of open war, the military was not supposed to be directly ordering the deaths of Kingdom citizens. And extranational entities, like the White Fang, were supposed to likewise be protected from state-sanctioned murder. It was official policy that the Kingdom of Atlas did not sanction any secret, extrajudicial killings.
As a result, Winter had only ever coordinated one once before.
But she knew the basics of a black ops mission. And this one was doubly off the books, considering that Atlas didn't "know" and had no "involvement" in this. It would be financed by a private citizen and coordinated by the Chieftain of Menagerie. But they were using Winter's contacts, and that meant that Atlas would be considered involved, should word get out.
She had tacit approval from the Council, and yet, she wondered how that would be taken should the plan fail. Winter would be proud to sacrifice herself for her country, to fall on her sword, to claim that she was the independent mastermind, without any government involvement. A dutiful sister, driven to the extremes by grief. It would be true enough, but would the world believe it?
Well, no use dwelling on failure before they were even begun.
Shooting a quick glance around the room, Winter scanned the rest of the conspiracy. Herself. Her father. Kali and Ghira. Dr. Merlot. And the assassin.
Marcus Black.
Winter's personal preference would have been to hire Raven Branwen. She wasn't… pleasant, but she was effective, and in the world of off-the-books extrajudicial assassination, the former was meaningless and the latter was everything. She did what had to be done, didn't leave a trace of her involvement, and could be trusted—for whatever value the word had when dealing with this contract killers—to carry out the mission with no risk of anyone finding out who was behind her. If it wasn't for the fact that Ozpin kept her brother on his payroll, Winter would have hired her in an instant.
But Marcus Black was, if nothing else, capable. And that was what mattered here. His profile indicated he was capable of making the kill, and once… once Arc was removed from the picture, they had their opportunity to save Weiss. To free her from her state.
Every moment of that horrible day was playing, over and over again, in her mind. Not just the attack, but the moments before. Seeing her… seeing her sister smile and the way it utterly unmade her. How desperate Winter was to see her smile again, to just have her sister again! Hatred and grief tumbled in her mind in equal measure, and that was what brought her here, to this room, into this dark point in history.
Her father looked at the man imperiously, a trace of disgust at the contract killer. "We're paying you a lot of money—I want to know that I'll get what I'm buying here."
"Three hundred million lien gets anyone killed," Black replied, "Doesn't matter if he's a Prince or a pauper, so long as I can get to him, he's already a dead man. I take it, though, that he can be killed?"
"Preliminary analysis suggests that the young man is hardier than equivalent human specimens, even Huntsmen," Dr. Merlot explained, "but he's not invincible. His human body seems to be essential for his functioning, so sufficient traumatic injury will lead to a cessation of life."
"So… overkill?" the hitman dryly asked.
Dr. Merlot nodded. "It would be recommended to do all that is possible to ensure the target dies in the initial attack. You will likely not get a second strike."
Black nodded, soberly. "Come at the King… it's a tricky subject," he mused, "but if he can die, I can ensure the outcome. What's the plan?"
"There's a meeting between myself, as the Chieftain of Menagerie," Ghira explained, "and the Arc boy. My daughter will be… present, and should any harm come to her-"
"I understand," Black said, preempting the threat. "No collateral damage, I can work with that. So you'll have your security there?"
Ghira nodded. "Yes. You wouldn't blend in with Menagerie guards, being human, but we can get security clearance to disguise you as part of the support staff. We have a uniform prepared, and a specially built cart that will enable you to get your weaponry in past security."
Black pondered this, glancing towards the map of the meeting room they had up and slowly working out his strategy.
"Doesn't seem to give me an easy exit strategy," he noted, his voice as neutral as possible to blunt the impact of his implication.
Kali nodded. "Security will work to subdue you and take you alive. Ideally, you'll be taken by Menagerie guards, but there will be two elite Huntsmen there as well. If you're taken by Specialist Clover Ebi, you'll be taken to Atlesian custody, and we'll be able to get you out. Do not get taken by Summer Rose—we'll have a much more difficult time getting you out if the Valeans take you."
"Hmph," the man grunted, "And I suppose when I'm in your custody, none of you might think to save a few hundred million by cutting off a loose end?"
"I have no doubt you have contingencies prepared should there be a betrayal," Winter coolly informed him. "We have much more at risk should you prove to be… indiscreet."
Black chuckled darkly at that. "I'm a professional. I do my job and I keep my mouth shut, so long as the money comes in. What about your daughter?"
"Not a particular concern," Dr. Merlot explained, "We anticipate the... psychic shock of the Prince's death should leave her temporarily incapacitated. At least, for enough time for the guards to take you."
"And as for the money," her father pushed forward a paper detailing how the rest of the payment would be quietly filtered to him, " you've been paid your advance already through a shell company. Memorize this now, particularly the routing numbers. I'm burning anything that might be considered a paper trail, and I'm not taking risks here."
Marcus nodded, looking over the complex codes. A good memory was worth a damn lot in an assassin, or any other field where records were a hazard, and Marcus was one of the best for a reason.
"So," he asked, "any preference on the style of his execution?"
Winter looked to Ghira and Kali, then to her father. It seemed too… grisly a subject for them to want to discuss it with more than shaking their heads no.
Marcus seemed to grasp that they weren't going to give him an answer. "Personally, I'd usually favor something that lets me have some distance from myself and the target, but we need to be certain that this is a success on the first try, so I agree with the plan to let me get up close and personal. But I have to ask..." he said, looking to Ghira, then to Winter, "This assassination… this is one for the history books, but more so in what it's setting off. Are you sure-"
"That is our concern, Mr. Black," Winter told him, a hint of acid in her voice, "and not something you need to concern yourself with."
The man nodded, quietly, but she could tell… she could tell even the professional hitman was struck by the extraordinary weight of what they were about to embark on. How many would be dead by the time the dust settled? No… it wasn't worth dwelling on that. How many more lives would be spared with a Remnant that was no longer in the shackles of the Grimm? When humanity and Faunus kind could settle all across the planet, no longer living in fear of the monsters in the darkness? But while that might mollify her qualms on the long term consequences, they did nothing about the short term. And those did not sit well in her gut.
Winter was a soldier; she knew what it meant to follow orders. She knew what it meant to do what was necessary. She knew what it meant to kill.
She had visited Fria while in Atlas, before her orders had her return to Vale. She knew what was happening here, and so did Fria, though she didn't say it out loud. Their conversation was still ringing in her ears.
"I've told James a hundred times, there's no standing on sentimentality. I'm a soldier, as much as he is, just as much as you are." She gestured towards the pill container beside her bed. "Better to figure out the transition now and make sure the power goes to you, make sure you get some time to learn how to use it, before it's needed."
Winter just bowed her head. "You've… given so much for Atlas, for all of Remnant. We can't repay our heroes with… with that."
"You'll have to do it sooner or later," Fria gave her a wry grin, "I'm a tough old bird, and not one to go down without a fight. And you and I both know we don't have much time left—but you should consider yourself lucky. James wants me to handle the transition myself. My proposal was to make sure you got it and have you settle things with that."
Winter didn't miss how her eyes went to her saber. It was unthinkable, but...
"Orders are orders," Fria completed the thought, "I've carried out orders I've hated and I hate what these orders are going to put you through. But I know it's for the right cause. Just… promise me, once you've taken my position… promise me that you carry out your orders. That you finish that old witch off, once and for all. Make all of this worth it."
Winter looked Fria, her mentor, her… friend, as hard as that friendship made everything, and said, "I promise. I'll make sure to tell the bitch that you'll be waiting for her in Hell."
"Good girl."
But this wasn't like any other mission. Any other killing. Anything Winter had ever done before. She could dress it up all she wanted, try to formalize it or weigh it in the grand moral calculus of a world without Grimm, but that didn't change what this was.
Murder.
A mix of sweetness and intensity in this chapter as we now have a deadline for when the shit hits the fan!
The girls keeping Geryon's metacarpals felt like a good reminder that they are killers and, as much as they have cute dating dramas and the like, they are not psychologically well. But they're not the only killers here.
Fria's another character who's a bit different in this timeline. More grizzled, more of a soldier, wholly aware that she's a military asset, and if she can't fight as well as she ought to, she's got to step aside and get that power to someone who can. That she can only do this by dying is something that, as you can see, she's come to terms with.
Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this chapter!