A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter 17 of this glorious fable. Pun totally intended. I don't want to spoil too much of this, but I do have a nice surprise for you this chapter. Hopefully my back doesn't give out on me like it has been at work. Fucking stupid humidity. And nope, I'm not done being lewd just yet. Still have some left in the tank.

Joan Arc's Legend

Summary: Joan, the youngest member of the Albion royal family, always dreamt of being a Hero like her ancestor, Jaune Arc of Oakvale. She never imagined she'd have to deal with an ancient evil, perverted garden gnomes, or leading a rebellion on top of it.

*Entwined*

Joan was the first to wake up after she had slept with Qrow and the blonde still felt a little full afterwards. She lifted her head from the crook of his neck and yawned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and purring when Qrow stirred underneath her. His rough and calloused hands slid down her thighs, making her shiver.

Qrow's eyes remained shut, but Joan could see his lips curving into the tiniest bit of a smirk. He was awake; he just didn't want to get up. Who could blame him? He did just empty himself into the princess of Albion and there was very little chance that he would want to move.

Joan whined and wiggled on top of him, biting back a moan as his length rubbed between her legs. "Qrow, wake uppppp."

The raven haired man lazily winked one eye open and reached to kiss her cheek. "Only if you get up off of me." Joan let out a weak groan, squirming a little as his stubble tickled her. Even though they still had a lot of work to do around Bowerstone and the surrounding area, she didn't want to leave this position. It was too damn comfortable and made her feel warm inside.

"Make me," she murmured, laying her head back down on his chest. She heard him sigh and for a brief moment thought she had won. But then she felt him pick her up by her backside, sitting up fully with her straddling him. Her face shone crimson when she felt his length prod her and got a proper look at what she had taken inside her the previous night. 'Hard to believe I had something like that inside me. No wonder my mind went blank.'

Still holding onto her, Qrow stood up and carried the princess over to their pile of clothes, the raven haired man frowning at their state of raggedness. "Maybe we should go look for something new to wear…and get cleaned up. I don't think the tavern has a bathhouse, does it?"

"No…but I can think of a place that might." Joan chewed her lip and wrapped her legs around his waist. "The Sanctuary my father built." True, Qrow had not been able to visit it, perhaps due to him not having a magical bond with it like she did. That said, with her magical reserves getting stronger and stronger thanks to having a connection to Ozpin, she might be able to build one with Qrow.

"And how do you—" Qrow was silenced by Joan kissing him, the blonde clawing desperately at his back as she let her magic roam freely, searching for the source of Qrow's own power.

"Build a bond with me," Joan whispered, giving his neck a few teasing nibbles. Her magic was raw, unpolished. Qrow's was balanced and refined over years of constant use, and she groaned when she felt it weaving into hers, making her press her body against his. She could feel his length prodding against her and she rubbed herself against it, biting her lip to try and keep from moaning too loud. The walls weren't exactly soundproof and others who had rented out rooms in the tavern the previous night could possibly hear them.

The blonde felt the head of his length slip in and she couldn't help it; the moan that left her throat was much louder than she thought and her hips immediately pushed down to take him in her again. Her back hit the opposite wall with a loud smack, the wood creaking and groaning from the pressure. If anyone heard them, then they could bugger off.

Joan was in a state of euphoria; even laying with him last night was nothing compared to this. Her lips met his in a sloppy manner and the blonde let Qrow's tongue slide into her mouth. Her weak licks were no match for the powerful thrusting of his own and she loved it. She tried to focus on the Sanctuary, giving Qrow an image to focus on. Blue Will lines grew across her back, marking her with the image of an eagle's wings lined with ancient Old Kingdom runes, and Joan felt his magic find what it was looking for.

Her Guild Seal and his own flashed gold and suddenly Joan felt very cold. Her teeth began to chatter and she looked down to see that she had indeed brought Qrow into it. Specifically, the Sanctuary's clothing room, where Klein kept it much cooler to protect some of the fabrics.

Her butler had turned to see the princess still impaled on Qrow's manhood and his moustache swirled. "I didn't realise it was so warm." He reached over to a rack of towels and grabbed two, tossing them over to the two linked lovers. "Please kindly refrain from dripping bodily fluids all over the floor; I just tidied up."

Klein turned smartly on his heel and left, muttering under his breath about having spent most of his life attending to the needs of amourous Heroes. "Always letting the trouser department do the talking…like father like daughter. Bloody Heroes…" The door slammed shut behind him and Joan unwrapped her legs from Qrow's waist, the older Hero putting down gently.

"Well…not too bad for a first try, I think?" the blonde princess tried. While she was developing better control over Slow Time and Shock spells, she was nowhere close to being as gifted with it as Qrow. His fight with her would-be assassin showed her just how diverse he was in the ways of Will, being able to switch from offensive spells like Fireball and Shock to some kind of barrier spell and Slow Time. Being able to tap directly into his own magical energy required a lot of power.

Qrow ruffled her hair and pulled her in for a hug. "Joan, I don't think you understand how much mana and energy it takes to be able to build a bond with someone else. You've grown a lot. You're no longer that cute little princess I casually flirted with while you were helping the Dwellers."

The raven haired man wrapped one of the towels around her and kissed the back of her neck. "You're a Hero now."

"It means a lot hearing that from you." Joan purred at his touches and gestured for him to follow her to the Sanctuary's baths. "Come on, we need to get cleaned up. We still have a whole city to inspire and we're not going to do it mucking about in here all day."

"Why certainly, your majesty," Qrow drawled. "As you command." Despite the thick layer of sarcasm coating his words, his dull red eyes shone with mirth and the princess rolled her eyes. She knew what she was getting into by pursuing a physical and emotional relationship with him. It meant putting up with his remarks on a near daily basis. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on how one looked at the situation, Joan had developed her own sass to either combat or work in tandem with his. Oh the poor bastard who challenged them to a battle of wits.

Outside of the Sanctuary's wardrobe, Klein was dusting off one of the polished sets of armour with a feather duster; he glanced at the two Heroes trying to sneak past him to the baths and he snorted. "You know, while it is not my place to judge who you indulge in sexual acts with, I do ask that you show at least a little courtesy and try not to keep an entire tavern awake at night if you indeed do partake in intercourse."

Joan blushed and her cheeks puffed out in embarrassment. "I was not that loud!"

Klein's reply was a mere silent look of disbelief. He turned his attention back to the suits that needed tending to and the princess dragged Qrow to the bathhouse. She didn't mind the teasing so much, but still. She wasn't that loud, was she?

"I thought you being loud was cute." Qrow dragged out his whistle and folded his hands behind his head.

"Hey! Don't be an arse about it…" Joan folded her arms with a meek mumble. "It was my first time with an actual man."

"Do you regret it?"

"No…in fact, I feel lighter than I have in a long time. Floating, even."

"I believe the words you are searching for are, 'You're welcome'." Qrow smirked and leaned out of the way of a swipe from the blonde. "Still too slow, Blondie. But honestly, I did find your moans cute. It could have been worse."

"…this sounds like a story." Joan eased herself into the nearest tub full of hot water and groaned in content, feeling sore muscles become soothed almost instantly. "You want to tell me or just leave me guessing? Because I should warn you, my imagination will think of the lewdest scenarios possible."

"Tempting offer. But no, I'll tell you. Jaune and Emerald were never as subtle as they liked to think they were, especially after they married." Qrow plopped down next to her and she leaned her head onto his shoulder as he told the story. "One particular time, when Maze and Weaver had had enough of their antics, a widespread order was ushered through the entire guild to throw apples at them whilst they indulged themselves. Their carnal bliss was interrupted by a hailstorm of fruit. After that, the message was sent. They never kept the entire guild up again after that, I tell you."

Joan stared at him for a few seconds, not buying it. No way that actually happened. "Did you see this incident in an erotic novel somewhere? Because that did not happen."

"Actually, it did," Ozpin interrupted. Joan let out a squeak and immediately submerged herself from the immortal mage's blind gaze, only her head poking out of the water. "Oh, so sorry. Did I come at a bad time? I can always explore the Sanctuary later."

"Oz? How the hell are you here?" Qrow asked, less concerned than the princess was about the seer suddenly appearing before them. "Not that your mug isn't a welcome sight, but how? I thought you were trapped."

"I still am," Ozpin said to the older Hero's disappointment. "I cannot step into Albion yet. But the link we share enables me to be able to come here whenever a suitable conduit is present. To put it quite plainly, Joan is the reason I am able to be here."

The princess had gotten over her initial shock and allowed more of herself to be visible, covering the important bits. "What do you mean?"

"You created a bond with him, using your own power as a base," Ozpin explained. "By doing so, you effectively wove a bit of my own influence in with yours. Your own magical power is the conduit that binds us together. Hence, if either of you two are present in here, I am able to come to the Sanctuary but only while one of you is here. For now."

"So…for a lack of better term, we're all entwined." Her body had already been touched by Ozpin's magic before, "With…me as the foundation?"

"Think of yourself as the Spire," Ozpin suggested. "In the same sense that it was the conduit for all magical power in the world, your own power is the base for the bond you created with myself and Qrow. We have interlocked in a way that is almost unprecedented. It has been done before, of course, but I doubt even the Triumvirate at its peak could compare to this."

He let out a dreamy sigh and stretched. "Ah, that feels much better. Now, with our bonds now all sorted out, I'm afraid I really should be going. No need to give old Klein a heart attack; poor sod has enough on his plate dealing with you two." He stared knowingly at Qrow. "No funny business. Otherwise, the first thing I'm doing when I'm freed from the Spire's grasp is looking for Scythe to knock some sense into you."

"Yeah, yeah." Qrow rolled his eyes. "Don't worry; I'll take good care of Short Stack." He ignored the, "Hey!" of protest from the blonde princess.

"I am not short!" Joan puffed her cheeks out again and the raven haired Hero chuckled before giving her cheek a quick kiss. He always liked seeing her act less like a princess and more like a normal person and the blonde knew why he did it, even if she didn't say anything. The pressure on Joan's shoulders was immense; the fate of an entire country lay in her hands and she was ever so grateful that it wasn't a burden she had to carry alone.

"Goodbye for now. I'll be back before you know it." Ozpin vanished into thin air, presumably drawn back to the Spire. Even if their magic was now entwined, the Spire's hold on the mage was still too powerful for him to escape it that easily. It was built as a massive conduit for all magic in the world by the most powerful Archons in history; there was no way for Joan to set him free despite her power having grown since she first met him seemingly an eternity ago.

With her magic now tied to Qrow's, using her gifts felt like little bolts of electricity were running through her veins. She slunk deeper into the tub, savouring the warmth of the water while she could. 'Soon. You know that, don't you? Even if we can't fix your eyes.'

"My eyesight has long since been ruined. But I can see other worlds besides ours. If only it wasn't just different shades of grey and black," Ozpin grumbled. "I know what you're thinking, and I can tell you it isn't going to work. My blindness is irreversible at this stage." Dammit, was she that obvious with what she was wondering?

'Dammit. Not even if we took you to the Chamber of Secrets underneath Bower Lake?'

"No. There isn't a way. Don't grieve for me; I've come to terms with it long ago and have spent centuries honing my other senses to be just as effective in battle as I would be if I had my sight. I assure you that you will find yourself pleasantly surprised when I'm finally out of the Spire's clutches."

Joan groaned and finally got out of the tub, grabbing her towel and drying off. Once she wrapped it around herself she went back into the changing room to get dressed, where Klein had already laid out a fresh set of underwear along with trousers and a shirt. Not as padded as her military equipment, but it would offer some protection while not sacrificing mobility. She also wouldn't stick out like a balverine in a furniture shop; one attempt on her life was enough for the year.

While the blonde princess was finishing pulling her trousers on she heard Klein enter and despite her being topless he didn't bat an eye. He was no stranger to seeing her undressed, having served both her and her father for years, and he walked over to tie her hair back in a messy ponytail, humming to himself. "You know, I have often wondered how long it would take before his majesty realised what we were doing. That assassination attempt was enough. Yet still he hasn't put out any wanted posters with your face on them. It is most curious."

"Why?" Joan asked. "Why hasn't he declared me as a traitor? What does he get out of this?" Previously, Logan was very harsh when it came to dealing with those accused of treason. He knew that Joan was building up an army to overthrow him, yet so far he hadn't issued any decree ordering his men to hunt her down and put her head on a spike adorning the walls of the castle. 'What the bloody hell are you doing, Logan? This isn't like how you've been recently. An assassin on your orders came after me, but he wasn't trying until Qrow intervened.'

She was thankful Qrow did come when he did. The only thing keeping her in that fight was her magic; in terms of swordplay she was greatly outclassed. Seeing Qrow and that assassin fight was the first time she had ever seen a duel between masters of their art. 'I'm not ready. Even after everything I've done, I'm still not ready to become the queen that Albion cries for.'

"I do not know why Logan doesn't act," Klein answered. "Perhaps he is waiting. Waiting for the day you march on Bowerstone Castle and remove him from the throne. His inactivity suggests that perhaps he has resigned himself to his fate. Perhaps he wants you to take it."

"But why?"

"I cannot answer that question, my dear. Forgive me."

Joan let out a sigh and allowed him to finish tying her hair. "Don't be. You have no reason to apologise. It'll all come clear in time, I imagine. In the meantime, we have a city to inspire."

Bowerstone was desperately looking for someone to give them hope, something they were in very short supply of. Reaver's cruel and barbaric policies were working the people to death; if anyone could put an end to it all, it was her.

"Agreed, madam." Klein nodded. "You best be off. While you were dozing off post-coitus, I used the Seal to see if I can find any information that would interest you. There is a serious issue in Bowerstone Industrial that demands your full attention."

"Oh? What sort of issue?" Joan asked.

"A kidnapping. The fiancée of the man who runs the Bowerstone Orphanage, Lazlo, has been abducted by a criminal enterprise. They answer to Nigel Ferret, one of the city's most notorious mobsters," Klein answered. "Be very cautious. Taking all of them on at once will lead you to certain death, but I have the utmost faith that you will succeed."

Joan wasted no time in finishing getting dressed, pulling her shirt over her head and grabbing her sword. "Then I best be off. Wish me luck."

"May Avo protect you." Klein bowed and let her pass.

The princess walked over to the Sanctuary's map of Albion, feeling the Cullis Gate within it activate. 'Take me to Bowerstone Industrial.'

Teleporting via magic didn't even feel strange to her anymore.

Qrow was busy getting his own gear in order when he saw how frantic with worry Klein really was. He had hid his discomfort from the princess, but he wasn't able to fool the former Guildmaster. Even his dusting seemed off. Less focused. "You're worried about her, aren't you?"

Klein smiled mirthlessly. "How can I not be? I just possibly sent the woman I've taken care of ever since she was a babe to her death. How can I be calm about that?"

Qrow winced. He knew that feeling well. As Guildmaster, it was his duty to hand out quests to young and hopeful Heroes who wanted the adventure and experience; one day in the field taught more than months in the Guild. That didn't make it any easier on him; he had sent Heroes even younger than Joan to their deaths and it was one thing about the position given to him that he resented.

He strode over to the old butler and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry; Blondie is a lot tougher than she looks. She's young, yes, but she won't continue growing if she doesn't get the experience for herself. Have faith in her."

"How can you be so damn calm about this?" Klein asked wearily. "Especially since you two are…well, procreating."

"Because I know how high her potential is. Joan has barely tapped it. When she does, she'll be even stronger. One step closer towards the battle for Albion." Qrow slid his hands into his pockets. "I know she'll be just fine, even without me there for support." He knew why her bloodline was so prevalent in history. Joan was more than just Jaune's descendant. The source of her power came from the one who founded the Old Kingdom itself, William Black.

William Black was the first ever human with magic, gifted his power when Albion was under the cruel reign of the Court of Blades thousands of years ago. Blessed by the god Avo, who took pity upon man, William was the first and arguably the most powerful Hero to ever live and the greatest of all the Archons. His control over Will was something that no one, not even Jaune himself, was capable of replicating. William's powers allowed him to overthrow the Court and he was hailed as Albion's new king.

However, his battle with the Court of Blades had taken its toll on his body. He was infected with a disease from battling in the Void and after several decades, William vanished without a trace and the Old Kingdom eventually fell. But Qrow knew the title he preferred to go by and he was genuinely hoping that he was still alive even now. The other name that the first Hero went by during the time of Jaune's life was none other than Scythe. The immortal necromancer who hid his face as his disease rotted his body away and assisted Jaune in destroying Jack of Blades for good.

Ozpin knew, too. He didn't even need to say anything to Qrow for him to know that Oz was in the loop. The youngest living descendent of the first ever Hero was more powerful than initially believed. It wasn't a surprise to see she could build a bond with him, but connecting with Ozpin into some sort of magical triangle with her as the centrepiece shouldn't have been possible. Then again, those of William's blood were always doing the impossible without realising it. He doubted Joan fully grasped what it meant when she managed to connect all three of them together. 'I knew her mana reserves were massive for her age, but blimey. As of right now, she would give Thunder himself a hell of a duel. To build a magical bond with both myself and Ozpin at once requires an enormous amount of energy.'

A group of lowlife thugs wouldn't stand a chance against her. 'I can begin teaching her more advanced spells without worry of draining her reserves. Perhaps Barrier when we have the time. Knowing how to make herself impervious to damage will come in handy during the siege.'

The red eyed Hero picked up his greatsword and looked at the map, frowning. "Hey, Klein? Do you have any other news for things that need to be done?" He hated sitting around with nothing to do. Sitting on his thumbs would drive him mad with boredom after an hour or two. Qrow had better ways of coping with boredom that didn't involve starting tavern brawls, but still. He much preferred being on the move if he could help it.

"Yes." The butler's moustache ruffled. "I have heard something about a man who dropped his engagement ring into the sewers beneath Bowerstone Industrial. Not exactly thrilling, but should be a nice relief from slaying bandits and criminals." He was partially right; Qrow could only mess with bandits for so long in a week. It took time to think of new insults for them. But the sewers weren't exactly inviting or clean.

"Anything else?" Qrow tried. Spending the day crawling through a stinky sewer was not how he planned it. Especially after he just washed up.

"Hm let me see…ah yes. There's a fine lady who needs a Hero to escort her to her husband's grave near the Mourningwood fortress. Shouldn't be too stressful." Ha, good joke. Experience had taught him that seemingly simple escort missions always had a few nasty surprises waiting. There was a reason why he and Jaune avoided them like the plague and it wasn't due to their tedious nature.

Qrow sighed in defeat. His two options were between crawling through a sewer infested with Avo knows what or escort a widow to her late husband's grave in a swamp. Either way, he was going to end up wet by the end of it. 'Sometimes, I really do wonder what my life would be like if I was a simple farmer instead. Then I remember it would be even more dull to spend my days ploughing a field instead of the princess.' His lip twitched at his own little joke and opted for the second option. He was not going to reek of sewage and human waste.

"Alright, that'll work." He stretched and let his magic touch the Cullis Gate in the map, concentrating on Mourningwood.

Qrow hoped Joan would be fine dealing with a kidnapping by herself.

For the first time, Joan wandered around Bowerstone Industrial by herself without anyone by her side. When she came through with Port and Qrow, she was too busy following her mentor to the Bowerstone Resistance camp to really take everything in. Now, she could see just how cruel and unforgiving the capital city's industrial sector truly was.

Along the filthy cobbles beggars of all ages were lined up, desperately asking for gold to feed their families. Rats dug into piles of rubbish carelessly flung outside and Joan felt her stomach churn. Disease, famine, and poverty were all around her and she saw what her brother's reign meant. It wasn't the Age of Industry like the posters dotting the walls of factories claimed. This was the Age of Oppression, where the king controlled with fear and allowed crooks to extort his citizens.

'This has to end. All of it. Logan's taxing the people to death and letting Reaver to do as he pleases. No more of this.' Joan gripped the handle of her katana and found the orphanage; it was just across the street from the residential district of the sector, next to several factories by the docks.

It was sealed by tall walls and in the middle was a single grand gate, but on closer inspection it became painfully clear just how rundown the orphanage was. The building was in dire need of repairs and several windows were broken. Wooden planks covered others and she could only imagine what it looked like inside. 'Probably in the same condition inside as it is outside. Yet it is still the only place that the homeless can go and have a roof over their heads.'

Just outside the gate she could see a trio of beggars having an argument with a weary looking man dressed in beaten trousers and shirt. It was Lazlo, the owner of the building who tried his damndest to provide for those who needed him and he looked defeated as she approached.

"Look, I'm sorry, but you'll have to find somewhere else tonight," Lazlo apologised. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"Somewhere else?" One of the beggars scoffed. "And where exactly may that be? Every other place has been closed down. I'll freeze to death on the streets and that's if Logan's goons don't bash my skull in first."

"You think you're the only one with problems as a result of Logan?" Lazlo let his frustration loose for a moment, only to stop from berating the beggars any further. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to snap. But I can't help you. I want to, and that makes it harder turning you lot away. I wish things didn't have to be like this."

He saw the princess making her way over to him and he sighed. "Please don't tell me you're looking for a place to stay, either. This place is about to close for good. I have no choice."

"Is it because of the kidnapping of your fiancée?" Joan asked.

"Yes, she was kidnapped by Nigel Ferret and his gang." Lazlo nodded, shoulders slumping. "I have to sell the building to get her back. Bastards have everyone here living in fear and they demanded the ransom money at the end of the week or they'll kill her."

"You think I could help out with that?" Joan offered.

Lazlo looked her up and down, slowly realising that she was much more than a simple young woman. "You're armed, dangerous, and they won't be expecting you. I think this will work. I know where the cowards are hiding and it's about damn time those bastards faced justice. The rough kind. Come on; I'll lead you over."

The owner of the Bowerstone Orphanage tightened his fists and marched across the street, Joan following him. The houses on the other side were in just as poor of condition as the orphanage itself; holes lined the roofs of many and the princess grimaced. 'No one does anything because Reaver is bleeding the city dry. There's no gold except in his coffers.' What did it say about Logan for allowing his people to suffer at the hands of a greedy businessman? 'You know this isn't right, yet you don't lift a damn finger to help them. The Logan I knew is as good as dead.'

Lazlo stopped in front of a house with a reinforced door; bits of steel lined the wood, making it incredibly durable to any kind of raid. "Here." He knocked hard on the door and the viewport slid open to reveal a bald thug with several teeth missing and a tattoo on his face.

"Lazlo," he greeted with a sneer. "You just cost me a bit of gold, mate. I bet old Harry it would take you the full week to get the money. You're quite an industrious one aren't ya?"

"Just open the bloody door, Keith." Lazlo rolled his eyes. "Let's be done with this."

Lazlo gave the princess a nod and she pressed her thumb against the hilt of her blade, ready to spring it out at a moment's notice. The door swung open and the thug was taken aback by the sight of Lazlo's new guard. "Whoa, hold on. Who's the friend? You know Mr. Ferret doesn't take kindly to outsiders."

"She's the bagman, so to speak. And that gold doesn't leave her hands until my fiancée walks out of your fetid little den," Lazlo snarled. "Unless you have a problem with it?" Joan drew her sword slowly to send the message. Being nice wouldn't solve this issue. Criminal scum like these men didn't get to deal with a sweet princess.

"Alright, alright!" The thug put his hands up in surrender and stood aside, letting them in. "No need to get uppity; I'm just the bloody doorman. Just watch yourself around Mr. Ferret or things will get unfriendly fast."

Joan gave him one last dirty look before following Lazlo down into the cellar, only to stop when she realised just how large it was. It was big enough to hold maybe two platoons worth of soldiers, yet only ten bandits were sitting about at their wooden tables. Brewing vats of beer and wine littered the walls and standing near the far back was a portly bald man dressed in the light grey clothes of a wealthy businessman.

He grinned at the sight of Lazlo and rubbed his hands. "Ah, Lazlo. I cannot tell you what a relief that this unfortunate situation has found such a welcomed resolution. Your associate can alleviate her burden by piling the necessary funds upon the table."

"There's no gold, Ferret." Lazlo folded his arms and Joan reached for a sidearm; they were in for a fight. "Now you cough up my fiancée from whatever filthy hole you have her in or my associate will start collecting your men's heads. And piling them upon the table."

Nigel Ferret let out a barking laugh. "My initial judgment of your character was clearly misguided. You do possess some heart after all. Lads, tear it out. But leave the girl alive."

Joan's pistol flashed up and she cast Time Control, firing her pistol as fast as she could before the spell could wear off. Five bodies hit the ground before she needed to reload and she hissed low enough for Lazlo to hear. "Hide for now! I'll handle this!"

The brown haired man didn't hesitate and dove to hide under a nearby table. With him out of the way Joan was able to move in between clumsy blows and pick them off with her pistol, dropping it into her holster when the last body hit the floor. The Time Control spell wore off and she only just realised how much stronger her magic had become. 'Incredible. My magic has developed into this. And from what Qrow said…it takes a lot to forge a bond with someone else's life force.'

"More than you know," Ozpin murmured. "It is considered a lost art amongst Heroes, its practises dying out when the Guild burned. Since then, its secrets have remained hidden for the past five hundred years. You are the first to be able to do so since the bond of myself and Qrow."

'Was it as intimate as mine with him?' Joan smirked a little.

"Is now the time to be asking this?" Ozpin grumbled. He did have a point.

'I'll let you off the hook. For now.' The blonde approached Lazlo and helped him out from under the table. He dusted himself off and started pounding on the iron door that had swung shut when Nigel Ferret escaped.

"Your men are dead, Ferret!" Lazlo yelled. "Unless you want to join them, let us in!"

"It's open!" Nigel Ferret cried.

Lazlo pushed it open and Joan followed him, waiting for a chance to put this slimy bastard down for good. The crime lord was sitting at the far end of the room next to the bottom of some kind of machinery. A long wooden balcony lined the side of it and further past was a chasm. The princess stalked over to him and Lazlo drew a turret pistol from the inside of his jacket, aiming at Nigel Ferret's head.

"You brought this on yourself, Ferret," he snarled. "It didn't have to end like this."

"I-it still doesn't!" Ferret put his hands up, eyes wide with fear. "We merely…got off on the wrong foot. I'm no threat to you without my men and I am only too happy to return your fiancée. I can be quite accommodating…"

"Get on with it." Joan gripped the butt of her pistol.

"Well you see is…she's not exactly on the premises, at the present time," Ferret admitted sheepishly. "She's incarcerated in a nearby…facility, shall we say? That access hatch will provide you with…well, access."

Frowning, Lazlo walked over with Joan keeping an eye on Ferret and peered over the edge. He let out a bark mirthless laughter. "The maintenance hatch to the factories? You fellows are a sophisticated lot. Please, go and get her. I'll keep an eye on Ferret."

"Right. I'll get her safe," Joan promised. She waited for Lazlo to come back before she took off, shutting her eyes before diving into the cold water below. She shivered when she came into contact with it after a twenty metre jump, swimming up to the surface and pushing her wet hair back.

"I'm really starting to resent all this bloody time I'm spending in caves," the princess grumbled, irritably swimming ashore and wringing water out of her clothes. She had just gotten cleaned up too. The blonde looked up and her eyes widened, her mouth agape. "No…it…it can't be you…you were killed!" 'How!? Logan sentenced her to death! And he never goes back!'

It should have been impossible. But there she was, wearing the same clothes as the worst day of Joan's life. The day Logan ordered her first ever love to be sentenced to death for treason. Yet standing only two meters away was Yang.

Yang clasped her hands over her mouth, equally as shocked to see Joan. "J-joan?"

The blonde noblewoman reached out and Joan ran over to give her a tight hug. "Yang! I thought you were dead!" Was this life throwing a cruel wrench into things just when she thought she had it all sorted out? Joan had made peace with the knowledge that Yang was never coming back, yet here she was.

"Oh, Joan…" Yang hugged her back, smiling at the princess. "I never thought I'd see you again. I thought you were gone."

Joan almost laughed, running her hands through familiar locks of gold. "You're surprised? How do you think I feel?" She was so relieved that her only friend was still alive that she was able to briefly forget they were both somewhere beneath Bowerstone Industrial.

The princess pulled away, leading Yang up a dirt trail leading into the tunnels. "Come on. We can talk about how we're alive on the way." And by Avo did they have a lot of catching up to do. It had been months since they last saw each other, but they had taken similar paths anyway. Joan was leading a rebellion and Yang was now aiding the disenfranchised people of Bowerstone Industrial. Both committed acts of treason and had clearly moved on from their previous relationship.

Yang ran to catch up, looking at Joan's new attire and equipment. "So…it's true. Just like the people are beginning to talk about. You're…a Hero. Just like the late king."

Joan looked away, remembering what it meant to be one of the now rare magic users of ancient times. "Yeah…it's not as glamourous as the townsfolk would have you believe." The amount of pressure for her to live up to her potential was immense and when she set out seemingly ages ago, it seemed like it was an impossible task. To be the Hero who would usher in a new age of prosperity and peace to Albion was something most would assume it was only possible in their imagination. Despite it all, Joan had grown from a meek princess to a revolutionary leader.

"You must feel the weight of the world weighing on your back," Yang murmured sympathetically, hiking the bottom of her dress up to keep it out of the puddles marking the only track out. "…I suppose I should tell you how I ended up here."

"That would put my mind at ease, yes." Joan swatted a few cobwebs out of the way, now running in the bowels of Bowerstone Industrial. "How? Logan sentenced all of you to death."

"He did," Yang answered softly. "But for some reason, after executing the villagers, he let me go free. I escaped the castle and made my way to Industrial. I don't know why Logan let me escape. Perhaps he wanted me to spread the message about what I had seen him do." The blonde noble laughed bitterly. "It certainly worked. It didn't take long for words of revolution to start spreading once word reached the city about the public executions."

She stopped for a moment, balling her hands into fists. "That day…in the throne room; it was the worst day of my life. I was so terrified, and yet I felt…happy, as I was let free. Even when they were dragged away…I felt happy about being alive. Oh Avo…I'm sorry."

"Hey." Joan reached out and touched her shoulder. "You shouldn't be sorry. The one to blame is Logan. For all of this."

"I know…but still. It makes me feel—"

"Stop."

Yang froze at the princess's command and Joan took a step closer. "Logan did all of this. You aren't to blame for it. Don't ever think that. You're not the one allowing Reaver to get away with child labour or murder. You tried to do something about it."

"You're right." Yang lifted her head up. "Even if I was stripped of my power, I am still capable of doing what is right instead of being complacent with Logan's tyranny."

"That's the spirit." Joan smiled weakly and turned around, straining her ears at the soft sound of cackles ahead. "Wait...do you hear that?"

Yang was quiet for a moment, the blonde noble listening. "No."

Joan drew her sword and held it up in a defensive position, shaking her head. "Something's not right about this. Stay close behind me." She wasn't going mad and was proven right after they were out from beneath sewer pipes and factory noise. Further ahead was a pack of hobbes, lead by a summoner hobbe.

"What the bloody hell are those!?" Yang hissed behind her.

"Hobbes. Keep your voice down. They don't know we're here." Joan raised her finger to her lips. She was used to having Qrow or Port around to give ideas for strategy but neither of them were around. 'What would Qrow do? Use his range or rush in?'

Her eyes raked over the terrain and couldn't see anything that would give her an edge. 'It's not well lit, but their sense of hearing will pick up my gun. Qrow would still start off with ranged attacks and switch to his greatsword when needed.' "Klein, crossbow."

"Coming, madam." Her pistol vanished and in its place was the crossbow she favoured for situations like these. Hobbes had weak eyesight but keener senses of smell and hearing. But even their ears wouldn't pick up the sound of a bolt whistling towards their face until it was too late. Yang didn't have a weapon to defend herself, either, making silence a higher priority than go in sword swinging. The quieter her attack went the better.

Joan carefully loaded one of the deadly steel bolts and took aim at the summoner hobbe. Being the only one with an ability to use spells it posed the greatest threat. 'Deal with it first and the rest should be a piece of cake.'

She fired and with a soft whistle, the bolt flew towards its target. Before the summoner hobbe was even aware of it the bolt was lodged between its eyes. It fell facefirst onto the ground and the blonde's lip curved upward at the sight of the smaller light grey hobbes looking around in panic. With their leader gone, they had no one to bark orders at them. They only had their natural instincts to guide them.

Instincts which, while good for mindlessly slaughtering innocent civilians on monorail car, did not fare well against someone who had any sort of combat experience. Joan had more than enough time to reload and fire again before the rest of the pack caught on. Their angry little barks and growls turned into shrill squeals as steel tore through ugly light grey flesh and she reloaded again. 'Two down, four more to go. None of them have stolen blunderbusses; maybe now I can push up a little.'

Her crossbow was secured onto her belt and her hands became cloaked in the fury of a violent thunderstorm. Lightning crackled and popped along her fingertips and she brought her arm down to cast the spell. A wave of lightning spread out from her body and melted the flesh from bodies, four smoking skeletons breaking and crumbling into heaps.

Joan let her magic fade and turned at the sound of clapping. Yang was applauding the display, now that she had seen the kind of power a Hero had at their fingertips. "It was just like one of Port's stories about your father. So that's what magic looks like."

"Offensive magic at least, yeah." The princess shrugged and looked around to make sure they were alone and didn't have any other nasty buggers lurking in the shadows. Nothing but silence and the dripping of a leaky pipe answered her and she motioned her head. "Come on. We're nearly there to Lazlo."

"Oh bloody hell, what am I going to say to him?" Yang asked, a hint of guilt and sorrow flashing across her face as she followed Joan through the tunnels. "I never told him about you. How we...how we were once a thing."

Joan rounded on her. "You what?"

Yang flinched away. "The last time I saw you, I thought I was being dragged to hangman's noose! I didn't want to remember it! When I did escape, you were already gone! I made the choice to move on."

Joan's initial anger and hurt faded away. She had done the same thing, albeit while confiding in Qrow that she was in a previous relationship. "I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to be this livid. You're not the only one who moved on."

"You did?"

"It was hard. I thought you were dead. But I didn't have to carry the burden alone. I wish I could have at least known you were still alive."

Joan took a deep breath. "Just like you're now engaged...I have also found someone. Someone who I've built a different kind of bond with." It had been one of combat, leaning on each other for emotional support and trying to overcome the burdens of how their lives were before they met each other. "I love him. That's why seeing you alive and like this is...it's hard."

Part of her yearned to grab Yang by the hand and kiss her right now. But she couldn't bring herself to. She had moved on, just like Yang had. What they had was gone. The princess could accept it. "I want you to be happy. Even if it isn't with me."

"Joan, I...thank you." Yang let out a sigh of relief and hugged her. "I hope the same for you. But promise me one thing. Promise that you'll bring an end to this tyranny."

"I will." Joan hugged her tight and smiled. She had no reason to feel guilty about her relationship with Qrow. "Now come on; I've spent enough time underground in the past few weeks as is without me having to get you out of trouble."

"Oi, that's rich coming from you." Yang huffed indignantly and ran up as if to prove she wasn't a damsel in distress. "I'm not always needing rescuing."

"Uh huh. Keep telling yourself that. As I recall, I often had to talk fast to keep you from getting into trouble with the castle guards for sneaking into my bedroom."

"I still don't know why. Our relationship was the worst kept secret in history. Everyone knew."

It felt surprisingly nice to be able to talk with Yang in this kind of way. Not as lovers but as friends.

Joan spotted a door further ahead and sighed in relief. "We made it. Hopefully Lazlo is alright. If that slimy tosser escaped I'm going to be a bit miffed." The last thing she wanted was for one of Bowerstone's worst criminals to run away without being thrown into a prison.

The blonde princess spun the wheel on the door open, pushing it with a groan, and she found Lazlo lying on the floor unconscious with a large lump growing on the back of his head. His pistol was gone and so was Nigel Ferret.

"Lazlo!" Yang ran over to her fiancé and he woke up with a groan, righting himself over and accepting her help to stand.

"Ow..." He rubbed the back of his head gingerly, wincing when he felt the lump for himself. "That bastard hit me when my back turned. Oh darling, I'm so happy you're okay." He gave the blonde noble a tight hug, running his hands up and down her back.

When he pulled away he looked at Joan and bowed his head. "You've saved the most important person in my life. I can never repay that debt, but should you ever need anything from me, please do not hesitate to ask."

"I have one request." Joan shared a long stare with her first friend and back at Lazlo. "Take care of her. Make her happy like she deserves."

"I will," Lazlo promised, leaning down to peck Yang on the cheek. "I can promise you that."

Joan watched as Lazlo and Yang left, the princess feeling as though part of her life was officially over. 'I'll never forget you. Now go and enjoy your life. After everything you've been through, you definitely don't need me.'

Yang had chosen her path to follow and Joan chose her own.

'Farewell, Yang.'

A/N: Yeah, I'm satisfied with this end to the whole Yang situation. This way lets me write her out without dangling her from a noose, as tempting as it would be to off Yang again.

Hmm...

-Kagerou#0007