May Fortune Guide Us

Feathers were warm. Qrow's arms were warmer, though.

He became acutely aware of this fact come dawn, his body automatically bringing him back to alertness. The brisk air against his cheek was frigid, raising the hair on the back of his neck the moment he recognized it; however, that did not change the fact that he was not uncomfortable in the slightest, the downy layer of feathers covering the central floor of the giant bird's nest more than soft enough to lay down his head, the warmth which had covered him the night before still the most comfortable thing he had ever felt in his life.

What was keeping him warm, however, was no giant bird at all; where the bird had been, there was now emptiness. Or, to be more accurate, there was just Qrow. Clover felt his entire body shiver, eat pooling in his cheeks, in his core, as he recognized the arm stretched across his waist, the lanky, strong legs tugging him close. The scent of skin and light cologne and sweat from being in the sun the whole day before curled up into his nose, but Clover did not mind, for he could recognize the unmistakeable scent of the shifter, the smell making him almost heady; the sunshine and heat seemed to exude from Qrow's form itself, for the warmth at Clover's back made him feel safer than he ever had before.

For a moment, he entertained the idea of simply turning in Qrow's arms, shifting so that he could bury his nose in an angular collarbone, relishing in this closeness. He wondered whether this ache in his gut would be satisfied if Clover took a leap of faith, if he pressed his lips against pale skin, strong, sculpted, lean muscle; he wondered whether Qrow's hold would tighten in his sleep if Clover clung onto him, too.

After all, this was the last chance he would ever get to be next to Qrow like this.

He could not do it in good conscience, though, so he simply slipped out of Qrow's hold the best he could, staggering to his feet on the tiny patch of downy feathers which padded the nest. He was careful as he moved, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes as he began to search for a way out; it felt impossible, but as he squinted at walls of sticks and stone in the darkness of early morn, he was able to spot a built-in ladder of sorts upon one side of the nest.

Soon enough, he was back on his feet in the cavern. Glancing over to the two girls, he bit back a chuckle as he padded over silently to readjust the bedsheets; Ruby had somehow managed to swaddle herself up completely in the blankets, whilst Yang lay on her back, arms and legs spread like a starfish, mouth open without a care in the world. He quickly tucked the blankets under their chins, a strange surge of affection welling up in him; the feelings weren't unfounded, though, considering how he had spent weeks listening to Qrow coo excitedly about these two little girls as if they were the brightest stars in the sky.

With that task taken care of, Clover headed out to the kitchen. There were things to do.

By the time Qrow stepped out of the cavern, Clover was already halfway dressed in his armour. He left the breastplate and helmet off as he shuffled through his packs, rearranging this and that to lighten the burden; whatever he did not need, he would happily leave in Qrow's possession in case the elder could find a use for it. He had already sent a message to Harriet, meaning that the Winter Maiden was currently in the process of getting ready to bear the journey back to Solitas at last. Or, at the very least, her crew was in the process of sobering up before they needed to head out to Patch once more.

Qrow's expression was unreadable as he walked out in a light tunic and breeches, taking a seat at the table. Clover quickly handed him a mug of tea and a bowl of porridge before sitting alongside Qrow, beginning to work on fastening up his breastplate for the first time in weeks.

After a few silent bites of his porridge, Qrow murmured without looking up at Clover, "You know, if you wait 'til nightfall, I'll be able to fly you at least to the outskirts of the port. That way, you won't have to bear the journey back."

Clover grinned, his heart longing to leap at the offer. "It's a kind offer," he replied evenly, lacing the leather straps at his shoulder through the loops, "but I think if I arrive looking completely untouched, I'll have to deal with more nonsense on their end. Spare me some dignity at least; the townsfolk thought I was here to slay a beast. Perhaps I'll find some Grimm to cull on my way back to at least pretend I did my duty." With a sigh, he added, "Besides, if I have too much energy by the time I arrive tonight, they may expect me to look at the accounts right away, and I do not want to take a look at them until we are back on the sea."

"…Brothers, it wasn't a farce when you said they would 'drink the treasury dry', huh?"

"If only."

Qrow snorted, ungainly and wry; Clover found his eyes following the elder's movements, each tiny action irresistible now that he knew the source of his fondness for the elder. "I suppose that would be how you Atlesian folk think of it," he replied, amused. However, that cheeriness quickly fell away, his spoon falling against the inner lip of his bowl. "Clover…"

Clover winced as he cinched up the strap over his shoulder, his deft fingers focusing next upon the joint under his armpit. "Yes?"

"You're really leaving, aren't you?"

I wish it were not so. "I have a duty to report to the king- and, of course, to aid him in defending the kingdom. It'll already take me over a month before my return. I do not feel comfortable leaving my post empty for that long."

"…is it really about your duty? What does your duty have to do with the fact that you're running away from here?"

What am I supposed to do, Qrow- stay here? Pretend like my duty does not exist? Pretend like I can simply stay- for what? His mind already supplied the answer before he could reject it, unfortunately. I can stay here with you. We could stay here together.

After all, Clover had learned over the past few weeks that he quite liked the soil, the forest, the sun. He had found that he quite liked shifters, too.

He smiled, thin and wan and weary. "That's not fair of you to ask, Qrow. I must depart; my crew shall be awaiting me come nightfall."

Qrow's brows knitted together, but before the elder could push him further, the cavern door creaked open again. Tiny feet and chubby bodies clad in long, frilly nightgowns raced out to greet the two men; Ruby and Yang's faces immediately lit up in awe as they took in the sight of Clover wearing his armour, Ruby immediately rushing over to look at the joints in the knee whilst Yang held her fists up as if to attempt fighting the knight.

With a bitter smile, Qrow stood, scooping Ruby up and placing a hand on Yang's head, cooling her down. "Are you ready to go now, then?" he asked lowly.

The final clasp cinched tightly; with that, Clover stood, nodding. After over a fortnight of wearing naught but casual, comfortable linen gear, this ensemble was far heavier than he could remember, each piece feeling leaden upon his body. Living here has made me soft, he thought, snorting silently. Even if my skill has grown, my strength has weakened. I shall need to rectify that upon my return.

"In that case," Qrow sighed, tilting his head towards the door, "it's probably best to leave now, hm?"

Suddenly, Ruby wriggled out of Qrow's grasp, taking a few stumbling steps up to the knight. Tentatively, she called, "Sir Cwover?"

He sighed ruefully, brows drawing up in exasperated affection as he squatted down, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yes, child?"

"You're going away?"

He nodded. "A knight has to protect his king."

Ruby's lip wobbled, but to his absolute surprise and amazement, she raised her hand in a clumsy mock-up of a salute. "You're a nice knight," she mumbled shyly, gripping tighter onto Qrow's leg as she raced to rejoin her uncle. "You should stay with Uncle Qwow. You're his knight, wight?"

"Ruby," Qrow muttered in exasperation, "again, I'm not a princess-"

"You'll come back soon to play though, right? Right?" Yang cried, bouncing anxiously, betrayal and worry threatening to overtake her large lilac eyes. "You're not staying away forever, right?"

His mouth opened, but before he could speak, Qrow piped up, his hands falling upon the two girls' heads comfortingly. "Now, now- he's a knight and a nobleman. He probably stayed too long as it is."

"But we just got here!" Yang cried, stomping her foot angrily onto the ground. "We were supposed to play more!"

"Heya, firecracker," Qrow scolded lightly, his voice stern. "I'm sure he'll-" Then, he paused, his eyes lifting up to look at Clover, the quiet question in his gaze bearing down heavier upon Clover's spirit than even the weight of his armour.

"Qrow…"

The shifter cleared his throat. "He'll come back soon. Right?"

Clover glanced between the two girls staring up at him with eyes full of hope and wonder and fear, and finally just gave up. He smiled, nodding. "Yeah. I'm sure I'll be back soon enough."

The look passed between the eyes of the two men confirmed it, though. This would likely be the last time Clover Ebi set foot in this little home. His place was elsewhere- beside his liege.

The quartet ambled slowly over to the entrance of the cave, the two girls watching teary-eyed as Clover donned his helmet and adjusted his packs, ready to begin his journey anew. With Kingfisher's sheath slung onto his belt, he stepped past the spelled barrier, only turning back when he heard Ruby whimper from the other side of the vine-marked entranceway.

"Then, I shall see you again one day, Sir Clover Ebi, Knight of Mantle," Qrow said, expression stoic and firm. "Farewell."

Clover nodded, slipping on his helmet at last. Silently, he withdrew a spelled crystal from his talisman pouch. "Farewell, Qrow Branwen, Huntsman of Vale," he replied, just as somber. "I-"

His eyes searched Qrow's face, frantic and yearning and true; this was the last time he would get to see it, after all. How he had managed to somehow give his heart so completely, so truly, to this shifter still made absolutely no sense to him, but his heart had not stopped racing ever since he had awoken in Qrow's arms that morn, and the scent of Qrow's skin, the heat of his embrace, still burned Clover's skin. Whatever Qrow had done to win him over did not matter. All that mattered was that Clover had just a few moments left before propriety went out the window, before he threw down his packs and returned to the spelled cavern- to Qrow's side- for the rueful, fatigued heartbreak shining unbidden in Qrow's eyes made his heart ache and clench in a way he had not ever expected.

His heart longs for me, too.

But Qrow belonged in Vale.

"I wish you all my luck in the world," Clover breathed. "The Kingdom of Vale is truly the luckiest of all to have you protecting it."

Qrow's eyes widened, sharp teeth emerging to bite down on his lip, to clamp down on the undeniable rush of emotion that visibly arose in the elder's heart at his words. Before he could reply, however, Clover dropped the crystal and crushed it under his heel, fighting to block out the sound of the little girls' shocked cries as Clover's body was cloaked with invisibility. He was not worried of being seen- he no longer had to hide away from the 'dragon' which he had been hunting during his journey to Qrow's home initially, after all- but he would be damned if he allowed any mere passersby to catch sight of one of the most powerful knights in Atlas in a moment of yearning weakness, with tears in his eyes and sorrow in his soul.

He did not want to leave.

The journey back to the port town from whence he had arrived was along, dreary one; by midday, his eyes were puffy, his body dehydrated and begging for rest. He took a brief pause, drinking and eating lightly by a small creek, washing his face until his cheeks were red and raw. Then, he was back on the road, using up another invisibility spell to avoid curious looks on his trip. The Grimm still managed to find him, surprisingly enough; even his luck was not enough to dispel the negativity he was surely projecting into the world thanks to his conflicted, bitter feelings, and by the time the sun was beginning to disappear beyond the horizon, his armour was dusty and stained with Grimm ash and grime and his own blood.

Thankfully, the trip down the slope towards the port down and the inn was far easier than the voyage up it all; he pushed open the creaking door of the inn where he had left his belongings, only to be met with a raucous cheer. "Ya made it!" Captain Harriet Bree cried, the short woman proudly walking over to pat his shoulder. "Come on in; we've been waiting for ya since nightfall, and we've already got the innkeeper to draw a bath and set things up for the night. Go on, take a rest. We can catch up after."

With a sigh, he murmured, "I'm not meeting you at the local pub, Hare."

A collective wave of groans filtered through the air as she rolled her eyes, scowling and crossing her arms. "What, the successful knight's too good to have a drink with the crew that shall carry him home?!"

Not one to be riled up by her jabs, he replied deadpan, "You know as well as I do that you've been drinking since I left you. You and your men should sober up- we don't have the Royal Advisor's magic to facilitate-"

"Nuh-uh, milord," Harriet grinned devilishly. "We do."

Panic gripped his heart unbidden. They did not store her Aura in a disposable vessel for almost two months in anticipation for this- it could have destroyed half this town if it had become volatile-

Exhausted mentally and emotionally, he held up a hand, halting her. "I'll see you come morning, Hare. Meet you at the docks."

Her expression clouded, but now, it was concern that entered the fray. She waved to her men, ushering them out the door with the words, "Don't worry- I'll still meet you all there. Don't cause any problems for no hardworking folk here, you hear?!" which was met with a round of affirmations from her crew. He was far too weary to argue further, however, so he merely nodded towards the confused, yet amazed innkeeper and began heading to his room.

He was two steps away from his chambers when Harriet grabbed his arm. "I didn't tell my men what your mission truly was," she said quietly. "They think you've been hunting a veritable dragon this whole time. What really happened, Clover? Did something go wrong?"

"…what makes you think-"

"How many times have I ferried you across the seas and back?" She sighed, propping a hand on her hip. "I've never seen you this displeased to head back out. Usually you can't wait to return to your estate."

Of course, he wanted to retort. I've never before had a reason to want to stay.

Qrow's face flashed into his mind. He swallowed thickly, then extricated his arm from her grasp. "We leave at daybreak, Captain Bree. I wish you goodnight."

She spluttered, but her cries were easily blocked out as he shut the door behind him. He did not need to answer her interrogations; not now.

The next morning arrived far sooner than he would have liked, for all he received for his journey was a lack of sleep and an aching heart come dawn. His morning exchange with the innkeeper was pleasant enough; he could see it in the curious man's eyes that the civilian longed to ask what had become of the shifter which Clover had been sent to 'slay'. You knew that it was just Qrow, he thought wearily as he passed over the gold the proprietor was owed for guarding his affairs. No wonder you were never truly concerned about me finding him back then.

Brothers, it felt like the past three weeks had been years- lifetimes, even. After all, everything was suddenly different. I had thought I was out to kill a murderous, conniving shifter…

And now, he was returning home with naught but his loneliness to show for it.

To his surprise, as the ship was nearly ready to leave harbour that morning, it was the innkeeper who rushed out to meet them, stopping him before he could board the Winter Maiden. "I'm sorry, milord," the man gasped through heaving pants from having run out to find him, "but I just received a message from the capital. It's addressed to you."

The scroll the man bore in his hands was marked with the same emblem which had been emblazoned upon the official summons from Ozpin, the royal advisor. Clover immediately accepted the scroll, passing over a coin as thanks for the speedy delivery; then, he stalked over to the edge of the port, perching upon a box where he could read the message in relative quietude.

"To the good knight," the message read in Ozpin's elegant scrawl, "I hope this message finds you well. I have just been contacted by Qrow that he shall be returning to Beacon Academy, and for that, I thank you."

How did he get a letter to me so quickly- Clover began to wonder. Then, he sighed, shoving the thought out of mind. He had seen time and time again that Ozpin's magic was frighteningly formidable; there was no point wondering how the man had done this deed.

"As thanks for your incredible work, and for your companionship to Qrow-" Clover grimaced feeling his face heat up involuntarily from the implications of those words, "-I offer you an additional gift. It shall be awaiting you in your kingdom. I do hope it shall ease some of your burdens."

There was nothing else accompanying the scroll, so Clover folded it up and handed it off to one of the workers upon the ship, instructing them to pack it in with Clover's belongings. The timing was perfect; Harriet waved him up onto the deck, holding a small object in her hands. "Hoist the sails!" she cried, her crew scurrying around her in a frenzy. Clover stepped cleanly out of their way, nodding to the familiar faces of those such as Elm the quartermaster and Marrow the young crewman as they readied to set sail.

"That's… a bird?" he asked, eyes locking onto what appeared to be a small, porcelain figurine in Harriet's hands.

The woman sent him a wicked smile. "We didn't want the return trip to take three months, so we asked her in advance to supply us with a little proxy," she chuckled. "Are you ready?"

Bracing himself, he nodded.

Once her crew was ready and settled, anchor lifted and boat finally unmoored from the port, she raised the bird above her head. "Let's fly!" she cried to the resounding cheers of her crew.

Clover bit his tongue to keep from crying out as he watched the captain shatter the bird at her feet, the rush of Winter's stored energy nearly blinding him as pure white light erupted from the shards and flooded into the mainsail, driving the Winter Maiden forward without a second glance backwards. Once the wind was steady and the boat had built up speed, she raced back to the helm, calling out orders left and right, the entire crew vibrant and ready to take on this challenging trip back home once more.

Clover did not move, however. He merely knelt down, picking up pieces of the shattered bird. Goodbye, Qrow Branwen, he thought, clutching the bird's broken head in his hands, holding it close to his heart. Take care. Be proud. Beacon Academy truly is lucky to have you.