Cinder in a fell mood was the sort of thing that struck terror in the hearts of all around her. Whether or not they knew her, whether they even saw her, when Cinder was angry, the world around her darkened and people got a good feeling in their gut that it was best to lay low. Even Mercury held his tongue as they'd left Roman's hideout—seemed he finally realized that there were limits to what impertinence Cinder would tolerate. Though Cinder wasn't sure if it was better that he would, without a doubt, go to Emerald now for explanation, and now her decision to give Emerald over to Ruby felt like it might have been a mistake. She could feel her grip slipping and the last thing she needed was those two… gossiping about her!

But her anger, her humiliation was far too high for her to do the sensible thing and lock Mercury Black down, call Emerald, and call off this… idiocy. She sent the damn fool away, and he couldn't scurry away from her fast enough. Cinder knew it was a mistake, knew she needed to stay on top of things, but right now, exposed and vulnerable, she wanted to find some place where she could scream until she felt like all the tension bottled up inside her.

This was all… this was bad. She'd indulged herself in something she never should have allowed at any level, and now… now her subordinates were openly mocking her. Now her henchmen didn't fear her. And worst of all, she'd lost control of herself. She couldn't-

Breathe.

She had to-

Calm yourself. Stay focused.

She wasn't about to-

Anger won't solve anything.

Feeling like a mess, Cinder gave into her self-preservation and forced herself to take a deep breath. And then another. Things were bad, but they weren't a disaster yet. There were much bigger things at stake than her humiliation, and in that regard, she was… she was at least in the clear on those fronts. She could just set Roman on fire as a warning to the rest, and that would reestablish her standing. So long as she didn't allow herself to lose focus, she could recover from this… misstep.

Going to a nearby café, Cinder bought a coffee and pastry and took a seat outside, watching the sunlight sparkle over the rooftops of Vale. It was a beautiful city, she'd give it that. Atlas might be the economic and technological center of the world, but there was a reason that a wedding in Vale was the dream of girls all around the world. The city was drenched in history like mid-morning dew, the old squares boasted their legendary fountains, like the one Cinder was in front of, no doubt the subject of one of the Old Masters' works. And then there was the downtown, boasting a chic sophistication that couldn't be found anywhere else. Or you could move out into the countryside and enjoy the rustic pleasures of a traditional vineyard or a dairy that had been making cheese with techniques developed over centuries…

Glancing around, she saw journeymen poets scratching verses in their little black pocket books, surely imagining themselves to be the next Valean to take their stand and pronounce the greatest words of love ever committed to page. There was even a girl at an easel painting the pigeons that gathered for crumbs in an Impressionistic style. This was… a city of creativity and splendor and beauty, and even though Cinder knew she needed to put ice in her veins, even though she knew she was here to burn this city, even though she could still feel the sting of humiliation, she reached deep into her bag, past the vial of fire dust, past the cyanide pills, the trench knife, the sulfuric acid to reach… her sketchpad.

She rarely took it out, and never in public, but it was never far from her hand. Wedding planning notes could be concealed in code or explained away as research on a person's inner character, but illustrations of centerpieces and wedding dresses were not… were not really explainable on a person like her. But Cinder was seized by the moment, by the space she was in, by the city that surrounded her and it compelled her to flip through those precious pages, seeing design after design, all dear to her heart, until she found a blank page, and with that… she could begin to imagine what she could create!

Her pencil flew across the sketchpad, almost as though her hand was no longer under her control except that it produced the image exactly as she imagined it. She was sketching a dress, sleek and classic, no frills or ribbons, just a clean white dress leading to a long train. It was playful and coy, the kind of dress that anticipated the words on everyone's lips being I can't believe she's finally settling down, with the long train, almost teasingly like a ball-and-chain, certifying that her answer was clear. The bride's raven-black hair was complimented by a subdued bridal crown—no veil, because nothing would hide her brilliant, golden eyes as they met her future husband's from down the aisle. Everyone would see that the bride was truly, madly, deeply in love, a love so profound that even Cider Fall could-

The tip of her pencil snapped, the product of a sudden onrush of pressure applied to the page. Cinder cringed as the fantasy turned to so much air and she was suddenly staring at the dress she'd lovingly sketched, a concrete symbol of everything Cinder Fall wasn't.

An urge struck her to scribble it out before she remembered her broken pencil. Or, at least, to crumple the paper and- and burn it lest anyone else might see it. See… see the trace of midcentury elegance and the yearning for beauty that still lingered in Cinder's heart. She could feel the heat in her fingers, the welling power that could consume every trace of her mistake, and yet, and yet, and yet…

Her scroll buzzed, jolting Cinder from her indecision. Glancing at it, she saw it was a call coming from… from Arthur, and she felt a cold pit of dread form in her stomach. He couldn't… he couldn't have found out, but if he had… the only thing worse than Mercury and Roman learning of her hobby was if Arthur knew. She couldn't imagine facing, gods help her, Tyrian if he could mock her for her weakness, but Arthur was cold, calculating. A dick. He wouldn't just make an ass of himself, he'd make it last. But… there was no sense in delaying it as the scroll continued to buzz. Snatching it up, she opened the scroll and barked, "This better be important."

"Oh?" a sarcastic voice and smug face answered her, "Does it have to be important? I was going to ask you how the weather in Vale is and if it made a good-"

"Get to the point," she interrupted, "You know contacting me outside of our normal parameters isn't a good move, and I'm at a critical time for the job. Tell me what you have to tell me and get on with it."

He snorted, looking somehow more like a pig than usual as he rolled his eyes at her chastisement. "I'm actually calling to do you a favor," he said, "You see, Tyrian and Hazel? They aren't checking in, and that tells me they got bored in Mistral."

"And that's my problem?" Cinder asked, hiding the relief she felt that Arthur seemed to be focused on something other than Cinder's private life. He might be a calculating jackass, but he was still a jackass, and the one thing that was in short supply amongst Salem's disciples was self-control. He wouldn't have kept his knowing it a secret this long.

Not that Arthur wasn't going to be a nuisance anyways. "It is your problem," he lectured, "because if they got bored in Mistral and decided to veer off course, where do they think they're going? And how will your intricate plan handle Hazel looking to settle some scores or Tyrian just… anything with Tyrian, really, I might not have any love for you, Ms. Fall, but I'd rather you failed for your own failures. Not because Tyrian thought committing arson in Vale would be more exciting than following his orders."

"I'm touched," Cinder dryly responded, "Truly, your care for me-"

"Listen, I'm doing you a favor, the least you could do is stop being yourself for five minutes and appreciate it," Arthur snapped, "But I'm giving you a heads up—my 'program' is just about finished and I'm going to ask the Queen to hold an 'all hands on deck' meeting. It'll be a chance for her to inquire about Tyrian and Hazel's operations, and neither of them would dare act against her interests, which should bring them back into the fold. Think that'll keep them in line and give you the space you need."

Cinder gave the screen an unimpressed look. Arthur was taking a risk contacting her in scroll and was being careless in using Tyrian and Hazel's real names rather than rely on the innuendo and implication that good tradecraft demanded. But Arthur was hardly a spy in any real regard, just a jilted programmer who felt his genius was neglected and disrespected, and believed there was no area in the world he wasn't as brilliant in as he was with engineering. So of course, he had no understanding of subtlety. That was another thing there was no shortage of amongst Salem's disciples: Cinder was surrounded by idiots.

Fortunately, Cinder was in another place where self-absorption was king and no one thought to eavesdrop because no one at this cafe was thinking of a world bigger than themselves and their unique artistic vision. But that brought Cinder back to another issue with Arthur's request.

"No more beating around the bush," she said, letting some annoyance slip into her tone, "I appreciate the heads up and the assistance. Now tell me what you want for it."

Arthur nodded. "There's a girl in the tournament this year whose name I came across in the paper up here in Atlas. Penny Polendina," he said the last name like it was a curse, a sudden stab of viciousness that reminded Cinder of who Arthur was, and what he was about to say. "Let's just say I know her father, and let's just say that whatever you have planned… I mean, if somebody has to," he gestured with his thumb across his throat, "I'm asking you to make it her. Give Mr. Perfect, give that arrogant bastard a taste of what he put me through when he humiliated me and ended my career. And then, with that score settled, I'll consider you and me even!"

He said it as though a girl's murder was just a favor between coworkers, and while Cinder despised him for his crude, callous behavior… she had to admit, she wasn't better than him. What, because she sketched a wedding dress, because she was cooperating with a teenager on some ludicrous dating plan, she was somehow no longer a murderer? No longer a terrorist? But still… it sat uneasy in her gut, even as she knew that it was part and parcel of her plans here in Beacon. As she nodded her assent and hung up on the blowhard, she looked back at the dress she had sketched and felt her stomach churn to look upon it.

She should destroy it. Should rip the pages from the sketchbook and throw them in the ocean or burn them right here. Call it artistic passion if anyone raised an objection. Or just fling a fistful of fire dust at their face and storm off. The sketchbook didn't feel dangerous, but now it felt… it felt wrong. Dishonest. Like it wasn't her, not really, but a pretty cover to hide a rotten soul.

She didn't stay at the cafe much longer.

Staggering to her room, Cinder felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. Gods, she'd forgotten that she'd be coming back to Mercury and Emerald after they'd had a chance to gossip about their once-fearsome leader's lapse into what the hell had they done to the room?

Cinder's eyes went wide at the evident hurricane that had apparently passed through her Beacon quarters. Normally an obsessively tidy woman, not only for reasons of tradecraft but also from a childhood where disorder meant beatings, Cinder was not used to- to papers everywhere and two different pinboards full of photos and notes and literal red string tying them together! Her eyes shot to a cringing Emerald, then a still-bewildered Mercury, and then, finally, to the source of her problems.

'Hey Cinder!" Ruby waved, "Emerald and I have been getting a base of operation set up-"

"You told me to assist her, Ma'am!" Emerald squeaked.

"-and we figured we'd use your dorm because, well, three-quarters of my dorm are subjects for this. Oh! And Mercury let me know that things with Roman are set up, and you don't have to worry—everything's good on Team RWBY's end! Tricked Blake and Yang into going by the gym right while Jaune's working out to help them get in the right mindset for our plan."

Ruby had showed Cinder a shirtless photo of Arc, courtesy of an N. Valkyrie, and she had to admit, beneath the hoodie, he had the goods. And Ruby was smart to focus on Blake and Yang, the more physical- why was she thinking about this?

Cinder turned to raise an eyebrow at Mercury, knowing that, no matter what, she could yell at him. That'd help put things back in order.

"I, um, I tried to kick her out," Mercury mumbled, pointing to how his bed had been taken over by Ruby's somehow even more copious notes than what Cinder had already seen, "but… man, even you could learn something from-"

"It's called organizational leadership!" Ruby interrupted, "Too many people's happiness is riding on this, and I am not about to let someone say, 'Oh no, Ruby! That's my bed!' or 'If you don't leave this room I'm gonna stab you!' stand in the way of getting my sister, my bestie, my teammate, my-"

"Yes, yes," Cinder nodded, finding this… absolute craziness somehow giving her the grounding to be the adult in the room, "you've hijacked my room and there's no way to talk you out of this. Emerald. Mercury," she turned to her minions, "I need the room."

With that, the two of them scurried out without much complaint. Leaving Cinder with… her co-conspirator. In a conspiracy she couldn't allow herself to continue in.

"Ruby," she began, her voice authoritative and inevitable, the force of the tide coming in, the shifting of tectonic plates, the kind of directness that could not be refused, "I have given this matter some thought, and I no longer see the-"

"Hey," Ruby interrupted, clearly not listening, "I've been meaning to ask you—so I know you're not sold on Jaune as, like, that great of a guy, but did you know he bakes? I think people don't give him credit for that, but he's really good at it. Even if he does stuff like put walnuts in cookies."

Ruby shuddered as though she'd just described a crime against nature. It was enough to give Cinder whiplash after her conversation with Arthur, and enough to knock her off her earlier directness.

"He… bakes?" she asked, echoing Ruby as though to confirm she'd really just said… hold on a minute! "Are you- are you trying to set me up with Arc? Is that your-"

"Oh, nonononono!" Ruby threw up her hands apologetically, "I didn't mean that at all, it'd be super uncool for me to have secret plans while cooperating with you!"

Did- did she have any idea the sheer scale of irony of what she was just saying?

"I just felt that you've been pretty down on the Jaune side of the Harem Route, and I figured sharing some of his better points would help with that," Ruby innocently ventured, "And, like, maybe you'd fit that into your wedding planning? Oooh, he could, like, bake the cakes for the wedding and present them to all the girls and explain how the cake reflects what she likes about them!"

…damnit, she did like the sound of that. Oh hell, Cinder could already feel the idea rising up around her, her frustrations being carried away by the sheer romance of Arc in the kitchen, preparing dozens of cakes, but not minding the work, because each one was a love letter written to-

No!

Focus!

"All that matters to me about the groom is his capacity to fill a tuxedo," Cinder grunted, "as far as I'm concerned, he might as well be any other man in Remnant."

Ruby looked directly at her, hands on her hips and silver eyes piercing right through her.

"Well, that's a lie."

Cinder flinched—it had been a lie, and a reckless one at that, but it never felt good to get called out. Especially called out by a fifteen year old. But still, she didn't want to give Ruby the satisfaction of knowing she hit the nail on the head as she glowered at her diminutive partner.

"Our whole partnership started because you couldn't think of a good groom for Blake!" Ruby said, thrusting an accusatory finger at her, "Admit it, Jaune does bring something to the table, and you're just being weird about it because you're in a bad mood!"

"Alright, fine!" Cinder threw up her hands, "You've accurately deduced that I'm in a bad mood, that's the perfect time to start prodding at me. So if you don't mind, please leave my room and give me some space!"

…

This was what she was reduced to? Feuding with a teenager about shared living spaces? She never should have indulged any of this, not just the nonsense, not just for the humiliation, but because it made her weak. Made her small and trivial, tied her into such banal problems as the fact that her bed now was being used to hold a series of pushpins connecting Blake Belladonna to Velvet Scarlatina, along with a timeline of opportunities to reveal the Arc family's long connection to the cause of Faunus rights and a bunch of photos of a stupidly cute bunny onesie that Cinder most certainly should not be wondering what it was like to wear, to snuggle with, to-

"What would you plan for my wedding?"

Cinder whirled in surprise. Ruby had said it so… so openly, it was like they weren't arguing, like Cinder wasn't letting it slip that her facade was crumbling and her two identities were at war, like there was nothing more important than just talking about weddings together, just the two of them.

"What?" Cinder asked, still off kilter from her bluntness, "What do you… what?"

"Eh, I've got a big sister," Ruby shrugged, "so I'm used to things like this. Sometimes it's best to just change the topic to something she wants to talk about."

Whatever snappish retort Cinder might have had for the moment never made it to her lips. Instead, as she felt her cheeks grow warm, Cinder began to picture what a wedding might be for the young Rose.

"The cake," she began, "that would be the first and most central detail—it would be, of course, large to the point of excess and generously topped with strawberries."

From the look on Ruby's face, Cinder had not only pegged her accurately, but from that sparkle in her silver eyes, Cinder could tell Ruby was already picturing what it might look like.

"And much like the cake, your gown would be extravagant and white. You'll complain about how impossible it is to move in it, but you'll love it all the same when everyone can see you in a magnificent, floor length bouffant with a lot of poof to it. Roses would be on the nose, but that's what you want, even over my objections. Roses in the centerpieces, in your bouquet, and certainly decorating the cake. But while there's extravagance in your decor, what you want more than anything is a small wedding of family and friends, something that never loses sight of the fact that today is a day about love and the family that is being created."

For an off-the-top-of-her-head description, it wasn't bad work. There were certainly elements Cinder would want to refine, of course, but she felt she had a good, solid core she could build off of, one that she could further iterate upon. But the look on Ruby's face told her that she'd nailed it, and Cinder felt no small amount of pride that there were tears in her silvery eyes.

"Of course," she continued, "the small wedding option would be… difficult, considering you'll be sharing the altar with multiple brides. But we can work with that by-"

"What?"

Ruby cocked her head to the side, quizzically. Cinder froze, her mind capable of piecing together the implication that Ruby didn't see herself sharing an altar, but at the same time… what?

"You're… you're not interested in Jaune?" a very confused Cinder asked.

"What? No!" Ruby gasped, shocked at the implication, "Jaune's my- he's my bestie, not my boyfriend! And besides, a major conflict of interest to be matchmaking someone I had a romantic interest in! I take matchmaking ethics seriously, Cinder!"

No- no interest in him? Then why- why build him a- a harem of women for- Cinder supposed it made some sense that most women didn't like sharing the boy they liked, but what the hell kind of situation was it that Ruby just- out of the blue, deciding- what the hell?

"What is- what is this all about, Ruby?" Cinder asked, feeling it was the only question she could truly articulate in the moment.

Ruby just gave her an impish grin. "Maybe my sinister plan was to snatch up all the girls for Jaune so that I'd be the only girl left and so guys would have to ask me to the Dance!"

Cinder stared at her for a long moment, then shook her head.

"No, that's not… that's not you, and as much as I don't like admitting it, I understand how you think. That's not what you're after."

Ruby just shrugged. "I dunno what to tell you. I like matchmaking, I like a challenge, and… and I want my friends to be happy," she said, "and I know you're pulling of a million-lien dust heist-"

Would that was all she was doing.

"-but I think you're more like me than you think. You like wedding planning. You like a challenge. You want everyone to get their happily ever afters, and even if it doesn't fit your whole image as a crime boss lady, I think that's just who you are."

Cinder cringed. Not because it was corny. But because it might very well be true. As though Ruby's silver eyes could pierce every one of her facades, even the one that imagined herself as a ruthless criminal mastermind or even the one that thought of herself as a craven coward, desperate to survive at all costs, when her real self was still the timid, wide eyed girl, staring in awe at the glitz and glamor of wedding reception. The part of her she thought she'd cut out when she'd taken Rhodes's sword along with the rest of her childhood. But no, no, she'd no more severed it from her than she'd escaped any part of her past. As surely as the crimes of her childhood clung to her, so too did the quiet, desperate part of her soul that yearned for something beyond the violence and abuse that she suffocated beneath.

"But… you said you had something you'd been thinking about?" Ruby asked, a suddenly timid and unsure look on her face. If Cinder didn't know better, she'd engineered this whole encounter to defuse Cinder's anger and bring her around to her side.

Shaking her head, Cinder murmured, "It's- it's nothing. We've…" she gave Ruby a tired smile, "we've got a plan to pull off, don't we? Can't just rely on Roman to help your teammates realize their feelings."

Ruby flashed her a brilliant smile, cheerfully giving Cinder a slap on the back and adding, "That's the spirit! You and me, Cinder, the two of us? We're gonna pull it off!"

Thanks to Renarde for feedback on this work!

This chapter took a little bit for me to work through, since it has a darker tone as Cinder encounters a reminder of the kind of people she works with. And it absolutely works as a headcanon for me to picture Watts requesting Cinder specifically target Penny to get back at Pietro for a perceived slight. But it also draws up the contrast, as Cinder grapples with who she really is, with Ruby's perception cutting through the crime and murder and seeing the girl who dreams of weddings beneath.