Music Choices: Krigsgaldr by Heilung
Author's Notes: In which Bird mom has no chill.
Eclipse
Chapter 18
The Great and the Good
A good raid takes weeks of planning and legwork. Weeks of sleepless nights and long days where the only thing keeping you going is the tightly drawn wire in the back of your neck, ready to snap free at any moment and send you wheeling. There's a mounting electricity that runs endlessly through your every digit, follicle, and cell. It grows every time you dart past a Settlement's guards and strategize into the early, red eyed morning; as you hunt for every weakness that your enemy might possess, and finally, cathartically, rip that fracture asunder so that you and yours can feast on a bloody, hard won victory. There is nothing on Remnant more satisfying than a good raid.
Bandits, tóría, vagabonds, and úlfsvard; these are just some of the names given to the people of the raid, by those who think they can take and take and take forever, without consequence. A Settlement could practically bleed the surrounding land dry and would still moan and screech in outrage when pricked in retaliation; but such a fit was nothing compared to the horrors a Kingdom was capable of in the name of retribution. There is nothing on Remnant that can throw a more spiteful tantrum than a Kingdom not getting her way.
Kingdoms believe they always have the moral high ground, especially Kingdoms like Vale and Atlas; and if you have ever been on the receiving end of a punishment from a morally superior establishment with power, then you know that there is no reasoning with them. There is only silence, submission and showing them what they want to see; or, waiting. Much like the roaming elder Grimm, the free peoples had all become very good at waiting.
Yet, just as there is nothing more satisfying than a good raid, there is also nothing more desperate nor frightening. The stakes of failure are always terribly high, and the stakes of success carried a blood-price as well. You never invoked a raid half-cocked, or you were doomed to failure and unsustainable loss of life; it typically took weeks to gather enough intel to put together a workable plan, and that was just for the average Settlement.
Raven had never been involved in a raid on a Kingdom prison before; she had never been involved in an attack on a Kingdom period, and neither had Qrow. The Branwen had steered clear of Mistral as often as possible for the last decade, following an attack the Morrigan had coordinated with several other tribes against several Mistrali assets; this attack led to the eventual demise of an entire tribe and vastly increased Hunter activity on the continent. One might consider that a failure; but the fact that any of them had survived Mistral's hunger for vengeance had, in fact, been considered a resounding success. That, in itself, was not only depressing, but showed the imbalance of power between them and the forces they were pitting themselves against.
Needless to say, preparations for something on this scale should take months. However, instead of several weeks dedicated to scouting, strategizing, and hunting for intel, they apparently had a grand total of three days. Nwyfre had, somehow, discovered that the prisoners were being moved in three days to a location outside of the Kingdom. This had already been in the works, but STRQ's fun-filled encounter with the King's Service had seemingly prompted the bastards to speed things along, in case a certain Headmaster or the Witchfingers should come sniffing.
A time schedule of three days would have, in any other circumstance, taken the very suggestion of intervention off the table. Yet, both the Morrigan and Professor Arc had insisted that three days was all they would need; and that by showing their hand by moving their prisoners, the King's Service had made a grave strategic error. The skinchangers would be, for a short amount of time, out in the open; in fact, this was such an obvious error, that the Branwens were entirely convinced it was a trap.
"Why would they move them at all?" Qrow droned suspiciously. Her brother was leaning on both palms, face shadowed in the dim light of their impromptu 'war room'. The war room was actually just the spare library room that Raven had discovered in her first year; they couldn't risk anyone from team ARSN (read: Sigyn) barging into their dorm room unannounced and had sealed the alcove and forgotten floor of the library off using a variety of means.
"Their fuckin' prison is underneath the castle and a butt ton of weapons turrets-" he continued, brow wrinkling. "-steel and granite; and no one else even knows it's fuckin there."
Raven squinted at the blurry photographs laid out before them.
"That we know of," she intoned. "If this really was already in the works, then perhaps things are getting a little too crowded down there to continue to avoid notice? We might not be the only ones close to stumbling across their secrets at this rate."
"That's quite possible," agreed Professor Arc, flipping through the blurry photographs she had acquired through her own connections. "The average castle guardsman and government lackey would be just as much a security threat to their little program as anyone else. They've gotten away with imprisoning and training a handful of skinchangers for this long, but at this point their program has likely outgrown their ability to safely contain. And what's more, if it has grown so dire that they need to move all them outside the walls, then it is only a matter of time before one of her agents notice, if they haven't already."
The memory of a festering dark castle and bubonic black viscosity eating away at a nightmare sky came to mind. Raven swallowed lightly, her neck prickling.
Who is this witch, that frightens so many factions? Is she like the aetheri woman from Mountain Glenn? How many people are working for her?
Raven glanced up at her mother, who had been silent for some time.
And why does she scare the Morrigan so much that she'd risk sending us to Beacon in the first place?
"All of that may be true," Nwyfre started after a moment, tapping her index finger slowly on the grain of the table. "But there is only one reason that they'd bother escalating their plan to move the prisoners and be so blatantly sloppy with their opsec. Because they're trying to invite a rescue attempt, specifically from you, STRQ."
STRQ paused sheepishly, as Professor Arc folded her arms.
"They think they have an understanding of your characters and are attempting to bait you," Nwyfre continued, running her fingers over a map of Vale's districts. "And to be fair, in any other circumstance it might have actually worked. You should be a little flattered, actually, that they want you two so bad. A pair of Hunter skinchangers would be a good get for them, I imagine."
Raven and Qrow exchanged very skeptical glances.
"But, they're so cocky that they're leaving their asses completely bare. Gods bless government hubris, I adore it."
Joan cleared her throat, glaring at her ex-partner. Nwyfre grinned hungrily at the map of the Kingdom's outer walls and roadways, ignoring the Professor.
"We're going to eat these niflings alive."
"I hate to rain on your little parade," Joan started, her voice chilly. "But, just a wild thought: what if they aren't only trying to lure in Raven and Qrow?"
Nwyfre paused in her tracing, her head tipping in consideration.
"What if they are trying to bait you and the rest of the Branwen raiders as well?"
Nwyfre raised a slow, suspicious eyebrow, glancing up from the worn tabletop.
"They would have to know my whereabouts, first."
Joan snorted contemptuously, shaking her blonde head.
"No, they wouldn't. You aren't nearly as unpredictable as you think, you know? Any time the BTF, Settlement police or another force finds themselves in possession of a Branwen, the higher ups are well aware that the rest of you are going to eventually show, hell or high water, with the dark brother and a pack of Grimm on your heels. Which is exactly why you lot are listed as kill on sight for most Intrakingdom law enforcement branches instead of capture, by the way."
Raven felt a defiant flicker of pride at that fact. Nwyfre glared daggers at the Professor, who continued implacably.
"Besides, Regalia already knows Raven is a Branwen-"
Raven coughed awkwardly, her cheeks warming as her mother sighed in exasperation. It's not like she had been the one to tell her; but Regalia may well have been able to figure it out on her own.
Qrow snickered lightly at her expression and Raven swatted at his leg under the table. He swatted back promptly. Summer promptly wedged herself in between them, preventing further escalation. The two women ignored all of this.
"-and is very experienced at capturing free folk. If this is an attempt to bait a rescue, then I would hazard that Regalia and the rest of the King's Service know you and other raiders may become involved. In fact, I bet they're counting on it."
A shadow crossed Nwyfre's face as she considered Joan's words for several long beats.
"That would only track if they were in possession of one of our skinchangers already," Nwyfre said thoughtfully. "Which they are not. Or if they were aware of the full nature of Raven's Semblance, which is unlikely."
Raven's eyes widened at the suggestion, mind racing as she bit her lip in thought.
"Perhaps, but would approaching this with an extra layer of caution actually hurt our chances?" Joan droned.
Nwyfre started chuckling after a moment, meeting the other woman's eyes incredulously.
"Are YOU seriously trying to lecture ME on being more cautious?"
Professor Arc pursed her lips, a glint of amusement in her eyes.
"Really, Jo? Ms. Oops! I went and got a hit put on us by the Talon by being a goofy prat - Arc? Are you fucking serious?"
"We survived," Arc waved dismissively, her eyes still glimmering as her lips twitched.
"Oh, yeaaaaa, we did, didn't we? It's crazy how that happened, isn't it? Almost like….someone, somewhere, made sure you didn't get your idiot throat cut in your sleep? Goodness, what a concept-"
"Hey, stow it for a second," Raven jumped into the conversation, moving to grab one of the photographs off the table. "Joan may be onto something."
There was a chilly pause. Raven looked up, meeting a pair of belligerent glares calmly; at her elbow, Summer was biting her lip to prevent herself from giggling. Raven flourished the photo insistently, her expression serious and brokering no bullshit.
"This one. She can block Semblances, and even cause aural damage if she catches you in the middle of using it, right? But what if that isn't all she can do? What if she can also trace out the scope of a person's abilities?"
Taiyang moved around the table to be closer to the three of them, making a face at the profile picture of the falcon woman.
"For the sake of argument, say that she can, and now knows all of my Semblance connections. Then what Professor Arc is saying not only makes sense, it would mean that attacking the convoy – even with a full party of raiders – would result in failure," Raven persisted. Nwyfre's face changed swiftly in comprehension. "In fact, it'd mean there's a good chance that they aren't planning on moving the prisoners ahead of schedule at all, and that this convoy really is just bait for the Branwen tribe. WE would become the prisoners taken to this new facility. And no one would ever know. They'd be free to pump us for information on the other Remnant tribes and take our shifters without repercussions."
"Holy fuck," Qrow whispered, eyes widening in horror. "That evil bitch."
Summer's ears flattened, a sharp tooth pulling at her bottom lip, while Taiyang's face hardened. Nwyfre paused, a swift variety of emotions running over her face, before smirking proudly at Raven.
"You're right."
Raven fought the latent urge to puff up at the praise and grinned instead.
"That makes much more sense," Nwyfre took the photograph gently, her eyes full of hunger and storm.
Joan's face took on a brief sheen of anxiety before flickering back to stoicism.
"Regalia is in the public eye at the highest levels. People all over Remnant know who she is, if not what she is. Killing her or her colleagues will bring attention and repercussions that you don't want."
Nwyfre smiled dangerously.
"Don't tell me what I do or don't want, Jo. Besides-" Nwyfre flicked the photo casually onto the table. "I'm not the one who will be executing her. It's not my place."
Taiyang squirmed uncomfortably at the 'E' word, before finally speaking up.
"I thought this was going to be a rescue mission," Tai said, voice tense. "But executing people? That isn't going to save those kids' parents!"
"That's where you're wrong, as per usual, Vanilla," Nwyfre droned sardonically. "I wonder if you ever grow tired of it?"
Taiyang's blue eyes lit up in amusement, a slight chuckle escaping him.
"Sure, but I mean, I bet you get tired of being the literal embodiment of a papercut between someone's toes. That's a difficult mantle to bear, you have my condolences."
Raven could feel the heartbeat drumming behind her temple as another migraine loomed on the horizon. Not only were they apparently operating on a severe time limit, but Nwyfre and the lighter half of STRQ kept wasting that time by going for each other's arteries every other half an hour or so. She had hoped that, considering their situation, the three of them would be able to abide long enough to see this through. However, her doubts were beginning to wear at her nerves, and no solution was immediately apparent save choosing a faction to run the raid with, and leaving the other behind; and that was not actually an option.
"And your mother has mine. I pity the woman who raised you."
Taiyang's smile tightened around the edges; outside, the wind was picking up and several leaves blew past, casting brief shadows over the carpet that made Raven think of birds. She grit her teeth.
We don't have time for this horseshit!
"These people can't be allowed to live with the information they have; because otherwise, they'll just go back to kidnapping and enslaving innocent people – but, oh wait, that's alright with you, isn't it?"
Raven fought another exasperated sigh as Taiyang's jaw set stubbornly. Qrow groaned aloud.
"Stop trying to bait me. I'm just saying that there's got to be a better way than just killing people you don't agree with-"
"Your brain really is thicker than cottage cheese isn't it?" Nwyfre massaged her temple. "What, boy, do you think if you go and ask them very nicely to stop, that they will?"
Taiyang rolled his eyes as hard as was physically possible.
"Obviously not, but there is a big difference between stealthily rescuing some people who need help and going full blown Witchfinger on a covert government agency."
"Oh, and you're somehow an expert on that now, are you?" Nwfyre drawled. "Do a lot of black-bag operations on your off days? Or are you just thinking about your stupid fucking video games and naïve enough to think that they relate to real life?"
"Are you for real complaining about kids these days and our newfangled technology? That's your lame-ass comeback?" Taiyang laughed, shaking his head as he mocked her. Qrow winced in anticipation. "'GRRrrr! Back in my day, we didn't have none of them fancy scrolls! They make your thumbs weak and your dicks small-"
"You are too emotionally fragile for this line of work," Nwyfre smirked.
Tai's voice faltered, eyes widening in surprise. Raven scowled; Nwyfre really did always go where she smelled blood.
"Do you really think no one else notices? Taiyang? Please. You're a pampered child, masquerading as a Huntsman. Everyone around you can see it; and your humor will only protect you for so long-"
"Stop talking to him like that before I kick you out of the war room!" Raven snapped, slapping her palm on the table. "And stop wasting my fucking time! Or I will run this raid without you, I swear to gods!"
Nwyfre hesitated, an obviously barbed comment dangling on the tip of her tongue. Raven's eyes narrowed in direct challenge. Silence reigned in the space, as the rest of her team glanced between herself and the Morrigan.
"I recommend that we take a break now," Joan finally commented. It was clear from her tone that this was not in fact a recommendation. "Fre, let's have a chat. STRQ, take a walk and get a snack. We'll continue in fifteen."
Raven growled under her breath and spun on her heel, stalking swiftly out of the library alcove first without looking back. She took a deep breath as she rounded the corner. Exhaled. Repeated.
After the pounding in her temple started to slow, she managed to actually take in her surroundings. She'd marched down one of the aisles that was covered, not in books, but in odds and ends left by students of yesteryear.
There were dozens of photographs, of teams, of friends and loved ones; coins, beads, feathers, animal teeth, and toys dotted the dusty shelves by the mostly framed photos. Raven realized that aisle wasn't just a hidden place to store secrets, but was in fact a makeshift shrine; she hadn't taken much notice of it before.
She ran her fingers over the layers of dust on the shelf nearest her, before wiping the dirt off her hand carelessly. She sighed, padding down the aisle and allowing herself to become lost in thought. The whispers of doubt and anxiety that she'd been wrangling ferociously to the floor resurfaced once again, walking the corridors with her.
Raven recognized, though she was loathe to ever admit it, that it was becoming harder and harder to reconcile the duality of her life. She also knew that this was just the beginning. She didn't even have her license as a Huntress yet; it could only get worse from here. Despite everything that had happened over summer break, in her gut she knew that the values her family held and the values of her teammates would never, ever fully align; and eventually that dissonance would drive them completely apart.
They might be able to compromise when forced to do so. They might grin and bear it, while hiding their blades behind their backs and spitting insults at one another when Qrow and herself weren't baby sitting them. On rare occasions, such as this one, they might even try to work together to achieve a common goal. Yet, at the end of the day, they ultimately walked paths with completely different destinations.
They would always, in reality, be separate pieces of her heart. No matter how many free people went on to become Hunters in name and on paper, they never would be in spirit. Not in this generation at least, or even the next; and no matter how much Summer and Taiyang accepted Qrow and herself as individuals, in the end, the Branwen and the agents that protected the sanctity of civilization were incompatible forces. They were diametrically opposed at their very cores, and even if they could understand one another at times, they could not help but try to tear one another apart when given the opportunity. It was simply their natures.
A cold weight was settling across her heart and choking in her throat as she wandered among the ghosts and lost treasures of previous Beacon students. She sniffed, anger and frustration giving way to a sorrow so deep, she felt it in her bones. Because she was stricken with a vision of the future, an omen that she could not ignore nor denounce; grief and bile flavored her tongue as the truth of it took her in its teeth and shook her. There would come a day, likely sooner rather than later, where Raven would no longer be able to straddle the divide between the worlds she loved; and she would have to see for herself what side of the line her own nature ultimately stood on.
More notes: Thanks to WhatOtherPlanet for the beta, and to rest of you hoodlums that keep coming back. lol. We get into the meat and potaddies next chapter, which will be a long one and likely wrap up this arc. After that will probably be a break chapter - this story is gonna have several.