It's a bit of a short chapter today because my mother is going in for a pre-op for her heart, and I'm going to be there waiting for her. It's a stressful one though the risk here is small, the actual operation to take place in a couple of weeks is far more dangerous. I'm going to be writing this on a laptop in the hospital or nearby, and I'm not going to be in the best state of mind for it due to worry. I'll try and get a decent length chapter out anyway but writing this note three hours into writing and only 1700 words into the chapter. Yikes.

Cover Art: Mystery White Flame

Chapter 53

It was a sign of how fickle and downright ridiculous people could be that they were more concerned about Atlas entering a robot into the Vytal Festival than they were Salem being present, at least in Ironwood's opinion. Ozpin thought differently and had taken grand pleasure in "Hmmmmm?"-ing him every time he complained about it in that "I told you so" way of his. One might have thought a man who lived and died however many hundreds of times would have been less of a smug son of a bitch, but what did Ironwood know? The point was that the city was in uproar. The sanctity of the Vytal Festival had been broken and the spirit of competition had been torn in two.

To add insult to injury – and it did – Jaune Arc had been cornered by the press on his way out of the stadium (the press having no sense of self-preservation and seeing no risk in ambushing a wanted criminal) and had stumblingly and, with much bumbling, given an interview, of which Ironwood was forced to watch alongside Ozpin.

"Um. I didn't really mind her being a robot – she actually seemed pretty nice and normal. An act? Maybe, but she took the loss like a champ and didn't get upset so I'd say she's better than a lot of humans. Am I worried about a robot uprising? Uh. Not really? I mean, we already have Grimm and they're kind of a big problem. Dedicate? Oh yeah-" On the screen, the boy's face burned pink and became just a little goofy. "I would like to dedicate this match to someone actually. My – ah – ahah – my girlfriend." He glanced away bashfully. "Ahem. I'd like to dedicate it to my girlfriend, Salem, who I wouldn't have gotten this far without. My teammates too. I couldn't have done this without them."

"Look at him!" Ironwood roared and threw his mug at the screen. It was a holographic projection, so all he really managed was staining Ozpin's desk and earning a rather dirty look for it. "He's playing them – playing them as fools! And the worst part is the people are being fools. All over the internet, everywhere, they're lapping this up and calling him the perfect gentleman. Women are swooning, men are emulating. I've heard a movie theatre has claimed the rights to make a movie based on them, some Candlestick Productions. This is madness!"

"There have been movies made over stupider things."

"Give me some good news, Ozpin."

"Well, based on my expectations and knowledge of her character, Penny is not likely planning to destroy and enslave human society."

"I know that, damn it!" Ironwood groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. "I can't believe people learned about her this way-"

"You can't believe she might be exposed in a highly televised tournament you elected her to compete in? A tournament which would have, with one hundred per cent certainty, taxed her aura at one point or another? The thought didn't even cross your mind?"

"Not once."

"How very telling…"

"And to accuse her of a robot uprising," Ironwood scoffed. "Her. Penny would die of shame before harm someone unduly. Do they really think I didn't make sure of that? Our Knight units are more a threat because they can be programmed. Penny can think for herself, and that means she has a conscience."

"At the risk of blaming movies for everything, they don't paint AI in the best of lights."

"Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. It's us humans who are prone to destroying everything that's even remotely different to us. If a near-omniscient AI ever did come into being, I dare say it would be kinder to us than we are to it."

"I don't disagree there. Besides, why kill humans off at all? Other than in self-defence, it stands to reason the world would be a lot more interesting for an AI with more sentient beings to interact with. I know full well how lonely the world can be when civilisation is reduced to ruin. Do you know how awkward it was watching cavemen beat rocks together and celebrate creating fire while you're from a medieval society? Worse than the time I had to step in and stop that whole `bloodletting` as a cure for headaches thing – and those idiots started worshipping me as a god after."

Ironwood had to ask. "A god?"

"Yes." Ozpin sighed. "Even sacrificed a goat to me. I just… why is it always sacrifice? Why is it that people see a being they believe divine and above them and think `ah yes, slitting the throat of a defenceless animal is definitely what this being wants`. Why that? Why not a fruit pudding or a salad?"

Good questions, but Ironwood couldn't help but think they were getting off track. "Arc." he said. "What do we do? People are becoming… fond of him after the interview. I have never before seen this level of criminal interaction with society."

"Well, there is Roman." Ozpin pointed out. "The man was seen as a gentleman thief for a reason and even featured in several magazine interviews and scored forty-sixth on Vale's most eligible bachelors and bachelorettes." Ozpin took a sip of his coffee, smirked and said, "I was eighth."

Glynda coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "I was first", denting Ozpin's pride but a little. The normally stern woman adjusted her glasses with a pleased little smile.

"W-Well it's not a competition anyway," Ozpin continued. "The point is, these things happen. You can't stop people romanticising brigands, especially when those people aren't actively causing any crimes. Sienna Khan was popular among faunus and men both before she took the White Fang down a darker path. Popular among human men anyway. The point I'm making is that Jaune Arc and Salem have not done anything wrong-"

"They turned my men into dogs!"

"And the Alpha-Dogs are doing better for it."

"The Ace-Ops! They are the Ace-Ops!"

"Plus, you did arrest him first and shoot at them," Ozpin pointed out. "That was bound to provoke a reaction. And the second time, you blockaded Menagerie and tried to kill her lover."

"Salem destroyed a mountain!"

"Or you could she created a mesa."

Glynda snorted.

"That woman ruled the Grimm!"

"But isn't now." Ozpin said sternly. "And between you and me, James, I much prefer a Salem who is attending tournaments and waving on her partner than one who is actively plotting the destruction of Remnant. You're a General; you know full well about picking your battles. Why pick one here when the other side doesn't want to fight? This is a perfect opportunity for peace."

"And what of the future? What of in eighty years when the boy dies and she remains, when she becomes ever more bitter and wants to end it all, and when our children look back and see that we could have acted and did not? What then, Ozpin?"

Could they really afford to do nothing now, give Salem the benefit of the doubt, despite all that had happened before? In Ironwood's eyes, they could not. Ozpin could call him a warmonger all he wished, but if Salem was fated to return to her crown once more, he could not in good conscience do nothing.

"There is a chance…" Ozpin said. "That she might not…"

"A chance?"

"When I met with her-" He waved down the shocked and angry interruptions from both Ironwood and Glynda. "Yes, yes, I have met with her. Foolish, I know, but I deemed it worth the risk and here I am, alive and well. When I met with her, I did not sense the curse on her. It felt… I won't say lifted, but… as if it were not there at all."

"Aren't you tied to that same curse?"

"I am. And yes, that means we could test it right now be killing me and seeing if I come back, but I hope you will understand if I object to said plan. Besides, it might take me months or years to convince my new host to believe I exist at all. It would not be a short-term solution."

"Then we have no proof." Ironwood said. "We have no way of knowing and you would have me risk everything on a suspicion."

"I would ask you to trust me and be cautious. You need not believe, but let us at least set aside talk of military action until after the festival, hm? This is no place to wage a war, not with this many civilians tightly packed together. Salem has thus far shown no interest in harming anyone here. Let's not change her mind."

That, at least, Ironwood could agree to. He would have much preferred to capture her and Arc before they reached Amity but the damage was done and, luckily, the damage was rather minor, excepting the current problem with Penny. All in all, it could be much worse.

"Very well. I won't remove my men from the stadium – I was entrusted with security and I shall perform as asked. I will, however, put a pause to standing orders to arrest them. We can reconvene after the festival and decide our course of action then. Is that acceptable?"

"More than acceptable, James. You will of course have my support with Penny – she seems a lovely young woman."

"Thank you. In truth, she's taking this harder than anyone. The accusations of world domination and being ready to commit genocide are cutting her deep. Her skin is not as thick as her construction would have you believe. This… blatant racism aimed against her is a problem."

Ozpin raised one eyebrow, as if to point out the faunus war, the White Fang and all of Atlas' problems and prejudices that led up to it, and, with incredible sarcasm, asked "First time?"

/-/

Jaune couldn't quite stop blushing as he read articles online about himself and Salem, most of which were far off the mark in terms of romanticising and imagining their relationship. Most, but not all. The truth was far weirder than they could have ever imagined. Far stranger still was how, despite being wanted criminals, they were now being endured, even accepted in a strange way. The people had been nervous at first and apparently the first day of the fights had actually seen 15% less attendees than the other days because people were worried what he and Salem would do, but once they didn't do anything, well, people got over it. It was both an impressive sign of people's resilience and a worrying sign of how trusting they were, he supposed. They could well have planned to kill everyone, set off some bomb in the last round for the finals, and everyone would fall for it solely because they didn't attack instantly.

They weren't planning to, but they could have. Was Vale really willing to give them the benefit of the doubt this quickly? Or was it just the internet that was? They were still officially wanted and the authorities had made clear of that. I suppose this is just meme culture and stuff. It's easy to say we're not a threat when people are far away and safe in their homes.

Well, it was a step in the right direction. More steps taken might even convince people to let them off entirely, or at least not pursue them. Where? He didn't know. What was their plan for the future? Should he suggest they visit Ansel? Should they settle down there? Did Salem want to settle down?

It occurred to him they hadn't talked much about it. Was that bad? They'd only been officially a thing for a day or two now, so it wasn't too unusual that they hadn't, was it? How soon was too soon? How late was too late? If only his dad was around, he could ask for help. Jaune bit his lip and looked over the men around him.

Roman? Eh. He looked in control of himself, but unless he and Neo were a thing – and Jaune had no idea there – he wasn't sure if Roman could offer best advice here. Plus, he was a thief who relished being in the spotlight. Mercury? Not unless he wanted to drown Salem in chocolate.

Tyrian?

Ha!

That left Hazel, the giant of a man rumbling quietly in the corner as he read a newspaper that looked incredibly small in his skull-crushing hands. Even stranger were the ridiculously small pair of reading glasses he had balanced on his nose, which looked to be made for a man a third his size. He looked through them and up at Jaune as he cleared his throat before the giant. "Yes?"

"I was… well… You're loyal to Salem, right?"

"I am." Hazel raised one eyebrow. "As are you, I hope."

"Oh of course. I love her."

"Good. Then…?"

"I was hoping for some advice."

"I can offer advice!" Tyrian said, rolling up to them with a giddy look on his face. "Oh! Oh! Name it Tyrian. That's an awesome name – no, no. Name your first child `Destroyer – but with an -ah at the end. Destroyah."

"What…?"

"Okay. Fine. Destroy-ina if it's a girl. Or Tyrianarella."

"I'm… I'm not…" Jaune gaped at the man. "What…?"

"This isn't about your firstborn child?" Tyrian asked.

"No!"

"Oh." The faunus looked glum for about half a second before saying, "But I think those names should be put forth anyway. Good names. Strong names. Also, I put myself forward as nanny. I can `nan` with the best of them."

"No one would trust you with a baby." Hazel said.

"Jaune's sister and her wife did. I wonder how my nephew is doing?"

Considering that Terra and Saphron were now settled down on Menagerie, he imagined they were doing alright, though they might lose a few nights' sleep if they found out Tyrian considered himself an honorary uncle.

"No one sensible would trust you with a baby." Hazel rectified his statement. "You would give it a knife or something stupid."

"Nah." Tyrian laughed. "Babies don't have the muscle to stab deep enough to kill anything." He grinned. "I'd give 'em a gun instead."

Jaune stared.

Hazel sighed. "I rest my case. The advice you needed, Jaune?"

"Um. Yeah." It was perhaps better for his sanity to blank Tyrian, and so he did, focusing on Hazel once more. "I'm new to this whole being in a relationship thing, and I was wondering what Salem's – well, our – plans should be after the festival. Like, has she told you anything of what we're going to do?"

"She has not. It is my duty to follow, not to question."

Jaune winced and asked, "Is that mine, too?"

"No. If she has chosen you as her companion than you must be considered as such. An equal – or as close to one as can be," he added quickly before Tyrian could start ranting about how Salem had no equals. "You should have a say, or at least be trusted in knowing our destination. If," he added, "Salem has yet made one at all."

"You don't think she has?"

"I could not say, but before this… before you and she came together and resulted in this situation, she was forever locked to her tower. Your dalliance with her has opened new opportunities. I expect that what plans she had before have been side-lined for a time. This is often the case when one must suddenly start thinking about a family. I've heard it can change a person's priorities, and quite drastically."

"F-Family!?" Jaune squeaked. "I-It's a little too soon to be thinking about that, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Hazel asked pointedly. "It may seem months away but the conversation is best had early."

Months? Jaune wasn't exactly familiar with how long it took to go from first base to a home run, but he supposed months wasn't a bad guess. That could mean one month or twelve after all, and he wasn't sure how much or little she wanted to rush into things. Or himself. "R-Right. You're right. So, uh, you think I should ask her about it?"

He smiled and nodded. "I think that is a fine first step. Communication is key."

"Okay. Communication. I can do that." Jaune nodded confidently. "I guess I should go talk to her now – before she gets herself stuck in a washing machine again. That was weird. Since when does Salem even do our washing? I thought that was what us lesser beings were for? Or usually Winter."

Hazel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Beyond communication, picking up hints might also be something for you to work on."

"A WASHING MACHINE DARED ENSNARE OUR GODDESS!?" Tyrian cried dramatically. "Is this true!?"

"No, you dumb fool. She was-" Hazel paused, considered the consequences of explaining and then said, "You know what, yes. Yes, the washing machine tried to eat her. You should go start a crusade against washing machines or something."

"I will marshal the faithful and lead them to war!" Tyrian screamed, twisted on one foot and launched himself out the nearest window, shattering the glass. Roman, who would again have to foot the bill for his ruined apartment, pointed angrily at the door right next to said window.

"Better he be out our hair than not." Hazel said, donned his glasses and went back to his newspaper. "And really, how much trouble could he possibly get up to?"

/-/

Jaune knocked hesitantly on Salem's door and waited for her to invite him in. He was nervous, and while a part of him pointed out he shouldn't be because they were dating now, that only made him more so. This whole being a boyfriend thing was confusing enough at the best of times, but being one to an immortally old witch who ruled the Grimm? Not exactly his relationship goals growing up.

"Salem? Are you there?"

"Of course." Bright green-blue eyes and a subtle smile that had his spirits rising greeted him, and then she did, stepping over with a light smile to take his hand in hers. "I saw your declaration on live television. It is only right you make your intentions clear as such, it would not do for harlots to believe they have a chance with you. You are no longer available for courting. I trust you understand that."

"Of course!" he said. "I'd never cheat."

Not on her or anyone. It just wasn't in his nature – at least he didn't think it was.

"Good. I have faith in you – after all, why cheat? Who could you possibly be with who can offer more than I? No one. That's obvious."

And there came the hubris again. This time he laughed. "Yes. Yes. You are truly perfect. Um. I was actually wanting to ask about our future."

Her eyes widened. "You move quickly. I do not disapprove. Very well. How soon do you wish an heir? I trust you have no issue with boy or girl – I do not subscribe to such foolishness as only a man may rule and I won't accept it from you either."

"What? No! I don't think that way at all!"

"Good. Then I suppose we can begin whenever you wish, but would it not be prudent to tie ourselves together more thoroughly before then? I understand things are different now, but a royal wedding should be considered. It is our duty to set an example, and all Remnant should have the opportunity to celebrate with us. The two of us marring will, after all, be the most important day of their lives."

There was a lot to unpack there, not least of all the idea of marriage, but also that Salem genuinely thought it would be a big part of everyone else's calendar. Did she expect it to become a national holiday as well? He bit back the question, half afraid she might think it a good idea and try to enforce it!

"I was more thinking our immediate future," he said, "Like after the festival. What then? We can't stay in Vale since we're wanted criminals, and I assumed… well… I hoped that you didn't still want to destroy the world…?"

Salem paused. "Not destroy it?"

"I mean, if we did have children then they would live here…"

"True. Well, I suppose I can conquer the world instead. Liberate it from its weak leaders and install myself as a queen and rule over it. That way, our children would have a safe and stable future."

"Or…" he hedged, "We could go with the angle where we neither destroy nor conquer."

Salem looked positively confused.

"I'm just worried that it might pull us apart," he tried. "We'd make enemies, have to deal with them and I'm not as impervious to harm as you are. Or as you were," he pointed out. "I mean, they could hurt you as well like this. And our kids. Do we want them to grow up having enemies that might hunt them down?"

"No." Salem answered immediately. "It won't happen again. I won't let it."

He had been told of her children and their fate and felt the bastard for making her remember them. In a rare moment, he knew what to do, stepping up and embracing her tightly. "We won't let it," he promised her, aware of her hands snaking behind his back. "But I don't want it to happen to one of us either. You've spent thousands of years trying to take over the world. Don't you want to take a break?"

"A break? Like, a holiday?"

"Yeah. Time off. Just the two of us." And Tyrian, Hazel and all the others who would inevitably follow. You couldn't win them all. "We could travel the world, visit the different cities and experience things. No stressing about world domination, Grimm or that sort of thing. Just the two of us, a home somewhere and all the time in the world."

"That… That sounds… nice… peaceful…"

"Do you want to? I don't want to force you."

"No." Salem shook her head and then leaned it onto his shoulder. "The idea… it does not displease me. And one's mind can always be changed later if it should. We could – Jaunesville?" she suggested. "I am a Queen. It is in my nature to rule. We could rule there, build the village into something far grander than it is now. The people would prosper and it would be a safe place to raise a family."

Far away enough from the cities to avoid trouble, far enough away from the Grimmlands to avoid that. It was a distance and a half from Ansel, but no more a chore for his family to visit than it had been to Argus for Saph and Terra. "That sounds good to me. You can still be a Queen and I bet the people will love you."

"Of course they will. They-" Salem pushed him away suddenly fixed her hair and looked beyond him.

By the door, Ilia Amitola coughed awkwardly. "I didn't want to interrupt."

"What is it?" Salem demanded.

"A message from Sienna. As per your agreement to have a mutual defence pact, she has information of someone who is a threat to you. Both of you," she added. "And to Vale at the same time." Ilia held out her hand, upon which was a sealed envelope. "There's a section of the White Fang that is loyal to Adam Taurus, a militant member of our group who has, it turns out, been siphoning weapons, dust and troops away from the White Fang and toward Vale. Believers loyal to him. The sister of one such ran straight to tell Sienna when she found out what happened."

"On his way to Vale, you say. An attack?" Salem scoffed and even Jaune had to shrug. "What can they do against the might of a city? I doubt we are in any danger with Atlas and their toy soldiers here."

"Yeah." Ilia winced. "About that. Turns out the ones now loyal to you used to be to him, and Perry pointed out that Adam was working with a black-haired woman with golden eyes. One who matches a certain someone you know."

Salem's eyes widened. "The Blake girl you and Mercy wish to wed!?"

"No!" Ilia gaped, blushing horrifically. "And how do you remember her name and not his."

"I hear her name all the bloody time – usually when the two of you are arguing about who is best for her. I swear, I've half a mind to make polygamy mandatory just so I can get a quiet night's sleep. Who then? I can't think of anyone else."

Jaune cleared his throat. "I think she means Cinder."

"Ohhhhhh… Oh yeah, her."

"And doesn't she now have your ability to control the Grimm?"

"Yes." Salem sighed. "Yes, she apparently does."

"And wouldn't she want to kill you-"

"Yes, my love, I see the issue, you do not need to belabour the point. Cinder is working with this Andy Torine and plans to come here and harm us." Salem ignored the way Ilia threw her hands up as if giving up. "And she may have not only the Grimm, but rogue elements of the White Fang at her back. Troublesome."

"Doubly so if Ironwood and Ozpin think it us who made them attack Vale," Jaune said. "Or more specifically you."

"But I can no longer control them!"

"Do they know that…?"

They had mentioned it to Qrow, but they might see it as a convenient excuse. After all, Salem had been warring against the Kingdoms for centuries now. It would be hard to believe her if she suddenly now managed to attack Vale and claimed it wasn't her. The benefit of the doubt simply wasn't in her favour given past actions.

"We're going to have to stop them." Salem said, sighing dramatically. "I cannot believe this. I am actually going to have to consider Cinder a legitimate enemy. The girl will be insufferable…"

Well, I managed to get a lot written anyway I suppose. Not a short chapter after all. I guess there isn't much I can do while I'm sat here fretting.

Next Chapter: 14th February

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur