May Fortune Guide Us

"I just- I knew it!" Qrow cackled, throwing his head back in the most carefree manner Clover had ever seen. "I was wondering why you seemed so normal, so it's nice to see that you're an Atlesian born and bred after all."

Clover spluttered, "W-what are you talking about?" He could feel the embarrassment rising up his cheeks and chest, colouring him a mottled red. "I don't-"

Wiping a tear from his eye, Qrow explained, "Atlas folk usually can't make heads or tails of how to actually take care of themselves. You nobles have it too easy. I was wondering why you were so comfortable being so domestic-"

"I've spent more time away from Atlas over the past decade than in it; of course I know how to do things like cook and clean. Do you think we have servants with us on the road?" Clover retorted immediately. Is that how he saw me? An incompetent noble from Atlas?

"-but you're not half bad, Clover," Qrow finished, stretching his arms above his head. With a teasing wink, he added, "Even if you are a terrible gardener."

Clover pouted, feeling his dignity slipping away from him as Qrow cast another look at the sprouts he had accidentally dug up instead of the weeds they were trying to clear away. His luck seemed to counterbalance the effects of Qrow's curse, causing everything they planted to sprout unnaturally quickly. However, with Clover knowing little to nothing about greenery thanks to his upbringing in the land of ice and snow, his experience was nonexistent in the field of gardening, leaving him with little knowledge of what to do.

At least Qrow was enjoying it; the elder was smiling freer than Clover ever seen him, getting his fill of teasing the knight as they went about clearing the flatter grounds around the entrance to Qrow's home. "Do you really think the girls will like it?" he asked, wiping sweat off his brow.

"I'm sure they will," the younger said. Clover watched in fascination as Qrow's hands transformed slightly into his talons, elongating claws menacing and pitch black as his fatigue shone through; the avian feet were quickly reigned back in, however, and long, elegant fingers returned to their human state.

Clover was not able to look away in time, however. The elder caught him watching the slight transformation, his expression clouding before sheepish, disgruntled embarrassment flooded his features. "Sorry, you're- you're probably not comfortable, huh?"

To both of their surprise, Clover found himself shaking his head. "No, I don't mind it," he said, the words surprisingly truthful upon his tongue. "It is just- it's fascinating. There are no shifters in King Ironwood's court-"

"Of course, he's too paranoid to have shifters around," Qrow muttered, rolling his eyes.

"-so it's new. I've only ever faced shifters as enemies." The bristling was instant, but Qrow managed to take a deep breath, calming himself down, his murderous red Aura disappearing underneath his skin once again. Clover smiled gratefully, adding, "I'm glad to have met you, you know. It's strange, but..."

"What," Qrow snorted good-naturedly, his tension drifting away, "you happy to not have to hunt anything down this time?"

Clover smiled, glancing down the road for a heartbeat. The path up the mountainside had been finally cleared up after two more days of effort, and Qrow had sent a message to his brother-in-law through a scrying stone that it was safe to bring the little girls up; the work had been exhausting, but as he looked back on it in hindsight whilst surrounded by seedlings and piles of accidentally-shredded weeds, he found that he did not mind the change of pace at all. "I'd rather be here than be on the hunt for a monstrous Grimm, in all honestly. You have no idea how grueling the journey was from Solitas to here."

"Oh really?" The elder raised a brow before his face lit up, the man throwing his head back to laugh. "Oh gods, he stuck you with little Winter Schnee's magic to get here, didn't he? That crazy mage…"

Baffled, Clover nodded. That was all the indication Qrow needed to launch into a story about how he had met Winter throughout the years while helping the King with various tasks as a Huntsman; the shifter hunkered down beside what they hoped to turn into a flower bed, his knees knocking into Clover's as he squatted along, clumsily trying to mix in fertilizer and create holes for the bulbs which he had somehow procured. As he spoke, his husky, growling voice eager and bright as he recounted wry tales of the past, Clover found that his mind was barely focused on the words; instead, all he could do was watching the way Qrow's eyes lit up, the way his face animatedly shifted as he told his stories, the way every once in a while the elder's expression would grow gentle and kind as he regarded their work clearing this area of earth.

"I think the kids will really like it," Qrow admitted when Clover asked him about his soft expression. "It's- thanks." With a rueful smile, he added, "You really didn't need to help me with this, though. Aren't you some fancy knight of Atlas?"

Clover sighed, looking up into the sky. Qrow was correct; if the court could see what he was doing, he would be the laughingstock of even the squires' quarters. And yet, he found that he didn't mind this menial labour, for the image of those little girls looking at the sprouts which were soon to flower was admittedly sweet.

As was the image of Qrow, when he would finally be able to share this with them.

Clover froze. Wait, what am I thinking? Oh, Brothers above…

And yet, when Qrow looked over to him, a wicked gleam in his eye as he murmured, "Alright, sir knight. Ready to eat?" it took Clover a moment to clear his throat and to catch his breath, for Qrow in that moment, sweat gleaming down his forehead as the sun rose to its midday peak, his toned body glistening and pale skin ruddy in the light…

Oh gods above- In an attempt to change his focus, Clover asked, "Do you enjoy being a shifter?"

Qrow paused, glancing over his shoulder as he headed back towards the entrance to his home, still covered in spelled vines and protective barriers. "I wouldn't know if that's a fair thing to ask," the elder said pointedly. "You can't just ask me if I enjoy it- it's what I am. There isn't really an element of 'enjoyment' in the discussion."

Flushing, Clover trotted after him, trying his best to maintain his composure as he asked, "Well, yes, but- humour me, Qrow. If you weren't a shifter, would you take up residence in central Vale? Or with your family?"

Slowly, Qrow shook his head, stepping through the cozy structure to the kitchen. "I suppose," he murmured, tossing logs onto the hearth to heat up the leftover portions of their previous day's stew. "Although it's more a question of my luck."

Clover hummed, wandering over to Qrow's study desk where the piles of parchment and scrolls were stacked high to the ceiling. "That's… that's a fair response," he murmured. "It's a shame, though."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "You seem like you would be a good father," he admitted. "With the way you love your nieces, I can see it suiting you quite well, Qrow." There was a loud echo through the house as Qrow dropped the ladle in his hands back into the pot, his eyes fixated on Clover in shock. The confusion and surprise in his eyes spurred Clover onwards to elaborate, "The heart is what matters, correct? I'm part of a noble family." Fondly, he looked out of the window, then back at the numerous pieces of parchment before him. Gently, he removed the top one as he added, "I did not know my parents well beyond social functions. You clearly know those little girls well- I think more people could stand to be like you and your brother."

He heard Qrow let out a long, soft sigh, before the elder whispered, "…thanks. Tai and I- we're not perfect, but we're trying."

The air was quiet and peaceful for a few minutes after that, the only sounds coming from the crinkling of sheafs of parchment as Clover flipped through what had to be Qrow's notes and research for his students, and as Qrow stirred the pot idly on the other side of the room. Yet, neither man wanted to break the amicable silence which had settled overtop of them both, the scent of warm food and sunlight filtering through the window creating a comforting ambiance that required no conversation to keep it safe and cozy.

Finally, it was Clover who spoke first, catching Qrow's attention. "Are these all notes for your classes?" he asked, flipping through yet another bound stack filled to the brim with notes on weapons manufacturing and magical enchantments. "They're excellent."

Qrow stood at last, two bowls in his hands. He brought them over to the table and took a seat, gesturing for Clover to join him; as the younger obliged, he murmured, "Look, I know I'm good at my job. My luck just isn't suited for it."

"It's such a shame, though," Clover said for the second time that day, a bitter coating on his tongue at the thought of Qrow's hesitance to re-enter the classroom. "I wish I had had instructors like you in Atlas."

Qrow snorted, stirring his stew lazily before taking a bite. "What, is the view in Atlas a little lacking?" Before Clover could splutter out a response, the elder added playfully, "Although I don't need to ask, if you're the best knight they had to send over here."

His jaw fell slightly agape. The nerve-! And yet, Clover found himself laughing before anything, replying simply, "For the content, good sir. Although I suppose the view would improve with you there, admittedly."

Immediately, Qrow choked on his stew, and once Clover's off-handed words properly sank into his own skull, he was choking as well, embarrassment causing the two men to keep their eyes fixated on anything but each other. The gall- the audacity-

Once he could breathe again, Qrow mumbled clumsily, "I should probably get their rooms ready if they're coming."

Oh- his nieces. "Do you want me to go back in town while they're here?" Clover asked, ready to leap up on a dime. The logical part of him wept at the thought of having to endure the walk in his full armour back from Qrow's mountainside home all the way to the port town, but he knew there would be nowhere else to go if the elder did indeed want him to get out during the visitation.

His eyes opened wide, heart thudding in his chest, as he noticed the flush rising to Qrow's cheeks, to the tips of his ears, tinting his pale skin beautifully in contrast with crimson, angled eyes and dark hair. "Y'know what, sir knight? Stay."

Clover sank into his chair, surprised. "…You're sure?"

There was no lie in his eyes. "I think the girls would like you. Stay."

For some reason, Clover's heart ached- whether from joy or from sorrow, he didn't know. All he did know was that his task was not finished, and so, no matter how he felt, his place was still with Qrow.