Ah, doing some writing at work with the air conditioning to soothe my soul. Luckily, the weather seems to be leaning toward colder days again, with this past weekend set to be the hottest of the year (so far, and possible the hottest to come in 2019). I suppose that might explain why I was so utterly wrecked this weekend, even more so than usual when it's scorching.


Beta: College Fool

Cover Art: Dishwasher1910

Book 9: Chapter 3


Ironwood was, for lack of a better term, porous.

I wasn't sure why that mattered but it did. The exterior, the bark – if one could call it bark when it was smooth, metallic and the whole structure was just as hard – was solid, but the inside, the core, was rivetted with hundreds of tiny little holes, tubes and pores, many so small you couldn't see them with the naked eye, but there. I could feel them in the way the heat dissipated through it, how even the slightest application of Stoke the Forge caused heat to spread through the Ironwood far quicker than any other metal.

That ought to have made it quicker to melt, but it wasn't. The heat spread evenly across whatever I was working with, meaning the whole thing maintained a uniform temperature. That would have been a serious problem for any other Blacksmith. Where were you supposed to hold it? How could you hammer and shape one end while the whole thing was soft?

For me, with my Passive, I was able to grip and mould it with my bare hands.

Penny didn't make that easy, however.

"Oh," she gasped, jumping before me. "Ah. Oh. Hmm."

"Do you mind?" I asked. "That's kind of off-putting."

"I apologise, friend Jaune, but having your hands inside of me is also off-putting. There is a heat I've never felt before. I feel so full and tingly."

"Are you doing this on purpose?"

"Doing what?" she asked, face the picture of absolute innocence.

Right. Of course she wasn't mocking me. This was Penny. I had to remember she hadn't been raised a normal person, seeing as she wasn't one. She probably had no idea what I was talking about, or why her moaning so loudly was a problem.

The occasional helper who came by to collect the weapons I'd forged certainly did. The men flushed and hurried away while the women stopped to stare a little, their angle perfectly showing Penny's back and my hands on her chest, but not my hands in her chest. While I'd have liked to correct their assumptions, I didn't think they'd appreciate the truth any more.

I must have looked like on of those `quack` healers who thought the best way to treat illness was to cut people open and rummage around their insides.

"The fact Ironwood is porous must have something to do with how easily Mages can channel their magic through it," I said, trusting Penny to keep mental notes for the Archmage's sake. "The closest I can think of is that the magic flows down the channels, though knowing absolutely nothing about how magic works, that's a guess at best."

"I do not know either, I am afraid."

"Ironwood never explained?"

"Father has tried on occasion." That was another thing to get used to, her use of the word `father` for the Archmage. I found myself wondering if she ever called Winter her mother. "It is difficult to understand magic without being able to use it, however. One of the first lessons is to `feel` the flow of magic within you. But if your Class does not facilitate that, you cannot."

That was an interesting thought. Blacksmithing wasn't like that; there were secrets, techniques and Skills like mine which were one of a kind, but the actual art of smithing was something that could be picked up by anyone. It was the same for farming, fighting, sewing or any other craft. Given time, effort and a little education, you could have a go at it. You'd not have the advantages a dedicated Class had, but I knew now from learning to fight that those Skills didn't make you `better`, they just made it easier to excel.

Just as I'd become a competent fighter despite being a Blacksmith, someone else could become a competent blacksmith while being a Knight.

But magic, it seemed, was different. You needed the Class. Either for this nebulous resource that some called magic and others called mana, magicka or a host of other names, or just that you needed Skills – or Spells, more specifically – to cast in the first place.

Did that preclude me from really understanding how Ironwood worked?

Maybe.

"Hey Penny."

"Hm?"

"Do you know why Ironwood was so eager to have me look over this?" After a second's thought, I added, "Or are you able to tell me if you do know?"

"I know of some reasons. Father is unsure of the capability of his Ironwood. He wishes to know more. The suggestion was made to Ozpin for it to be used in shaping weapons for Vale's defence."

My head shot up. "Why didn't he?"

"Fear," Penny said. "Not enough is known about Ironwood or how it interacts. It has been found capable as material for weapons or armour but only if father uses his magic to create it that way. It is not something easily forged. But more than that, it is not known what would happen to it if father died. That is what stopped him and Ozpin using it."

"They think it might vanish?"

"Not vanish. Maybe… become inert?" Penny sounded unsure, but then, so did Ozpin and Ironwood going by her explanation. "Father does not know if his magic sustains it. It may be related to his Passive-"

"What is his Passive?"

"I am not allowed to say. Sorry. But if father is correct, then if father died the Ironwood might become brittle and break, or wither and die like a tree with no rain or sunlight. That could happen at any speed. This is magic. Father says magic obeys no laws but its own."

"Damn. If we could have outfit everyone with Ironwood…"

"Yes. But Ozpin says Salem is intelligent. If she knew or figured out the truth, she could kill father, and then everyone would be helpless. Other ideas were discarded as well. Father initially planned to weave roots of Ironwood through the walls of Vale to reinforce and turn them to metal."

I could just imagine that, entire walls interwoven with roots of metal stronger than steel, standing impervious against the Grimm. But again, all it would take was Salem creating a Grimm that could kill Ironwood, or just doing that herself, and the walls might come crumbling down.

"Does that mean Ironwood won't be fighting on the front lines, then? If he's so important?"

"Yes." Penny's smile fell. "Father is frustrated about that but knows he cannot. If he falls, the CCT might fall as well."

"It might not," I pointed out.

"But it might. What is one Mage against the benefit of hundreds of Constructs able to fight again and again? Father will not be idle. He will be creating Constructs while the battle progresses. His magic will go into that."

It was more than most would contribute. In a way, it felt like Ironwood and I were similar. We both wanted to be on the frontlines, but both had Skills that made us better in support. I with creating weapons and he creating Constructs. We were both stuck crafting tools for other people to risk their lives with.

"He wants me to find out if Ironwood will sustain without him, doesn't he?"

"Yes. And to see if you can create it."

"Me!?" I leaned back. "What? How would I make it-?"

"It is metal, is it not? Maybe you could forge something akin to it. These… pores you speak of. If you could make it the same shape and size with the same pores, would it not be Ironwood?"

"M-Maybe."

It wouldn't; I was sure. There was something about it, something more than simple metal. In a very real way, it felt alive. It… It felt like it had thought. I hadn't dared delve as deeply into that as I did the first time – my reaction in front of Winter was startling enough – but I could still feel a hum of energy when I laid a finger on the piece within Penny.

If it relied on Magic, then how did it still pulse now? Was Penny supplying it? Why had it felt so… eager to meet with me? Was eager even the right word? Did it have personality? Could you call a plant `eager` for growing toward the sun? it was just something it did. Something it needed in order to survive. Could you call a tree intelligent for planting its roots down and turning its leaves up toward the sun?

That was what this felt like. The Ironwood was leaning into me.

"Oh, my lord!" Someone shrieked. "He's feeling her up in public!"

"I'm not-" I spun, eyes wide, before I saw Yang and Ruby before me, the former grinning, and groaned loudly. "I hate you, Yang. I absolutely despise you."

"Heh. You make it too easy."

Yang and Ruby came forward to sit down in my forge, Ruby on a chair I had but had never used and Yang on a small crate of wooden poles laid on its side. They didn't look bothered by Penny's open chest cavity since I'd told them about it in advance. Naturally, that also protected me from any silly misunderstandings as to my hands inside her – though it didn't protect me from Yang's teasing.

"What are you doing here?" I asked. "I thought you'd be busy all day."

"So did I. Turns out with all of Vacuo showing up to help, we're suddenly out of work. Not for long; Miss Goodwitch said she'd find something for us to do. Told us all to catch some rest for today, though."

It was good to hear Vacuo were helping out. That would hopefully go some way to cutting off the comments from those suggesting they were here to be burdens. "They don't have any plans ahead of time you can work on?"

"Way I understand it, they had to make realistic plans for the fortifications. If they had six months until she came, we'd have built a new wall out of solid rock – maybe even two. But since we only had two months and so many people, Vale needed to think of what could be done in that time."

"Right. No point being caught with our pants down."

"Yep. But, now with all these people from Vacuo coming down and being strong enough to help, they're reassessing what we can manage. I doubt we'll get another solid wall down, but they're pulling out some plans that were discarded. Stuff they wanted to do but didn't have the manpower for." Yang shrugged. "We'll probably be tasked with that."

"You all have time off, then?"

"Some of us. Blake and Ren still have to scout, even if everyone is sure at this point that there won't be any Grimm." Better safe than sorry, and no one wanted to be caught with their pants down. "Pyrrha went with them in case they run into more bandits." Yang slapped Ruby's shoulder. "Ruby here is taking a break from delivering messages."

"Miss Goodwitch wants me rested for when they make the new plans," Ruby said quickly, almost too quickly. "I'll have to deliver them to every Guild in Beacon as fast as possible."

"Sounds like important work."

"Hm." Ruby nodded, a little happier than she had been before at her tasks. "Ozpin explained to me how getting correct orders to the right people on time is worth a hundred Heroes in the field. I'm contributing."

Yang rubbed her sister's head. "You sure are, sis. With your speed, you can make sure orders arrive on time. Imagine if they tried to call a retreat and the messenger died. Everyone who should have gotten back to safety would end up being killed. You're gonna save a whole lot of lives."

Ruby nodded, nervous but determined, and, if my eyes didn't deceive me, a little more at peace with the role she was going to have. I was grateful to Ozpin for that.

"You're not the only one being held back from the fighting," I said. And for once I didn't only mean me. "The Archmage is the same." At Ruby's shock, I quickly explained the Ironwood situation, earning surprised nods from both of them. "So yeah, don't think you're weak for being held back or anything. If even Archmage Ironwood – the strongest Mage on Remnant – can't be on the front lines, then you've nothing to worry about."

"Yeah." Ruby smiled. "I guess you're right."

"He sure is." Yang leaned forward, winking at me. "So, what have you found out about Penny's core? Other than that you like stroking it and getting her all hot and sweaty?"

Ruby elbowed her sister. Jaune rolled his eyes.

"It's confusing. It's alive, but not. Like a plant. I can't tell if it's intelligent or just doing what a plant normally does, but it doesn't grow on its own as far as I can tell."

"It doesn't," Penny confirmed. "The Ironwood Forest that father first constructed has not grown since its summoning twenty years ago. There were those who feared it might grow and swallow a nearby village, so it was measured each year. It has not grown a single inch."

"It doesn't make sense," I said. "I can't understand it."

"What's to understand? It's magic." Yang threw the comment out.

"Well…" I tried to think of the best way to explain. "Ironwood is metal, right? So is this." I hefted a chunk of ore out a crate. "It's the exact same mineral composition when you get down to it, and this is created in the wilderness just like trees. But it's not alive. It's rock with metal in it. What makes Ironwood living metal but leaves this lifeless?"

"Magic," Yang repeated.

"But it persists even without Ironwood's magic. And it's still just metal. People have melted it down into slag. I could make it into a knife. Would it still be alive? Would it die? How does metal die? It has no brain, no living material or any kind of nutrients."

"Hm." Yang leaned forward, waving a hand to catch my attention. "I'm gonna try and explain this slowly. Tell me if you get lost." Her lips slipped into a grin. "Because. It's. Magic."

I tossed the hunk of raw ore at her head.

Yang dodged with a snort and a laugh.

"I know. And you're probably right." It was, after all, summoned and created by a Mage. "But I'm trying to understand it beyond magic because that's what the Archmage wants. If I just settle on it being `magic` then I can't do anything with it. Plus, it feels like the easy answer. Why does the sun rise? Magic. Why does blood flow? Magic. How does Velvet make her stew? Magic. I don't want to assume it's that before trying everything else."

"Eh. Makes sense. You do you, Jaune, all this is too confusing for me."

I refrained from pointing out it was too confusing for me as well. For all that I sounded intelligent, I was basically poking around in the dark. Or poking around inside Penny and seeing what stuck. I had a few other pieces of Ironwood on my workbench, one with a Rune scrawled into it. I wasn't about to mess around with Penny without testing it on other pieces.

"You think you can make us some backup gear out of Ironwood, though?" Yang asked. "Weiss could use a sword, especially one that lets her use magic through it. You know relying on a Fencer's rapier has been holding her back."

"Blake told me the weapon was sentimental…"

"Yeah, but so is surviving to make the most of her dad's sacrifice. Besides, you're not telling her to get rid of it. She can have two swords strapped to her belt if she wants. Just might be good for her to have one that actually does something."

"I'll see what I can do." If she had two, it would get around the possible consequence of Ironwood dying. She could go back to Myrtenaster. "Might be closer to the invasion, though. I'm still bogged down making spears."

"Sure looks like it."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm just taking a break to play around with this. Making spears all day wears me out mentally. I have to Engrave every Rune into place. That hurts my head when I've done it several hundred times in a row."

"Can't you, like, make one huge piece of metal and engrave twenty Runes on at once, then cut it into individual spearheads?"

"No. In the same way I can't put twenty Runes on your dusters."

"Why?"

"The Skill is just limited like that. One Rune only."

"Why?"

"I… I don't know."

"Magic?"

"It's not magic."

"Sounds like it could be." Yang shrugged. "I'm not saying it is, but your Runesmithing is kind of like magic in a way. Only you can do it, it's bound by weird rules and – and no offense here – it makes no sense whatsoever."

Her point wasn't lost on me. Runesmithing was essentially the act of drawing symbols onto a piece of metal. That those symbols then somehow conferred effects onto the wielders was ridiculous, especially when those same symbols would do nothing carved on rock, paper or even nothing on weapons if carved on perfectly by someone without my Skill.

The Runes themselves weren't magic. If they were, then anyone could have used them. The metal wasn't magical, not any more than any other piece of copper, iron or steel. I didn't see myself as magical either, but maybe the Skill was. Maybe like a Paladin being able to cast curative spells, I had some kind of hybrid ability.

"Huh. You might be right." I rubbed my chin. "I'll have to look into it. If I can use magic in some abstract `Blacksmith magic` kind of way, then that might help me with the Ironwood. Though I'm not sure how my Swordmaster Class ties into that."

"Maybe it's the same."

"Swordmaster is a spellcaster Class? I think the fact I use swords and swing them around would disagree."

"Eh. I'm only throwing out ideas. And my new idea is to go get a nap before Miss Goodwitch finds more work for me. I'll catch you later, Jaune. See ya." Rising, Yang waved once and wandered off.

It did not escape me that she'd left Ruby behind, or that Ruby couldn't quite meet my eyes and was fiddling with her fingers. I had the sinking feeling Yang's visit and chat had neither been spontaneous nor for my benefit.

"Penny, I think that's as much as we can do today," I said. "Do you want to pass on what I've found to Ironwood? We'll see what the piece with a Rune on looks like tomorrow before we think of trying one on you. Make sure nothing goes wrong overnight."

"Understood, friend Jaune. And hint taken. I shall leave you and friend Ruby to your privacy!"

My face twitched. "Thank you, Penny. You're too kind…"

The Construct stood and reached to her chest, peeling her clothing and skin – the clothing actually being a part of her skin and not clothing at all – back over the gaping hole in her chest. It sealed shut with a brief flicker of green light. Nodding once to him and then again at Ruby, Penny hummed a quiet tune and strolled out of the forge.

Suddenly alone, my courage wavered. I glanced at Ruby to find her looking away, hands in her lap and thumbs playing with one another. My own hands had taken to turning a lump of Ironwood between them, finding some strange comfort in the act.

We'd been dancing around one another for a few days now. It was easy when our work schedules were so different. I wasn't sure if it was Ruby herself who had decided that had to change or Yang or someone else intervening. The thought of everyone knowing what had happened had my muscles clenched tighter than iron.

And what did I think?

I wasn't the oblivious idiot anymore, not after everything we'd been through. It would have been easy to dismiss it as a simple thing, a sign of trust, a cry for help or some small effort to seek comfort. From anyone else I might have believed that, but Ruby had made her intent clear. If not through her actions, then by the way she'd looked at me after.

"So…" I began, unsure where to go from there. Did I tear the bandage off the wound and dive right in? Beat around the bush and hope for the best? I paused longer, hoping she'd catch my hint and step in, starting it all for me.

Ruby kept her eyes on the floor, her mouth shut.

"Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?" I finished weakly, pathetically. "I need to get back to work otherwise."

"O-Oh." Ruby stood suddenly, still not looking my way. "I-I shouldn't get in your way then." The relief in her voice was obvious; she was dodging the conversation.

I reached out to try and snag her arm, but she blurred out of my grip with unnatural speed. There was no way she hadn't noticed doing that, but she smiled so dramatically that her eyes scrunched up and her face turned white.

"I'll leave you to smith. I should go see if Miss Goodwitch has more messages for me to deliver. S-See you later, Jaune." Before I could get a word in edgewise, Ruby had already fled, waving wildly back my way as she shot off, a streak of red across the green grass.

My hand fell, along with my head.

"Nice going, Jaune. Real nice."

I took my anger out on a block of steel, forging it down into a wicked spearhead with more barbs than was technically necessary. The little bit of artistic liberty showed my mood as easily as any scowl. That much was obvious when someone came to collect them, looked at the vicious implements of murder, then at me, then swallowed and carried them off without a word.

/-/

"Jaune." Weiss caught me outside the Lodge. "May I have a word?"

"Is this about Ruby?"

"No." Weiss' eyes narrowed, and I cringed. "Should I be talking to you about Ruby? Has something happened?"

"N-No."

"Is this about how the two of you are so awkward around one another?" My silence must have said enough because Weiss sighed. "That's hardly something I haven't noticed, but when I tried to talk to Ruby about it, she told me to not interfere. I don't intend to. I wanted to talk to you about something you and Yang spoke of earlier."

"Oh, the sword idea. Yang told you?"

"She did." Weiss nodded her head to the side, asking again for a little time.

I wasn't the best at reading her emotions – at least not unless she was really angry, in which case even someone who had never met her could figure that out. She appeared calm now but that could be misleading, and dangerous. Weiss was the kind of person to forcibly stay calm a brief instance before she would explode in fury.

"Um. Sure. Just so you know, I told Yang I wasn't sure you'd want me to. We were just throwing the idea around. Nothing is committed."

Weiss sighed. "I'm not angry at you, so there's no need to throw Yang under the carriage."

"Oh. Uh. Oops?"

"I'll not tell her you were so quick to do so," Weiss said with a little snort.

She led me to the small clearing out back, between what had once been the back of our lodge and an expanse of flat ground leading to the wall around Beacon. We'd used it for training and sparring for the most part, but that was a hopeless endeavour now. Crates of supplies for the siege had been stacked there and there was a wooden support structure built up against the wall, essentially acting as an extension of the flat ground at the top.

The purpose of it seemed to be to allow more people to stand on the walls. Maybe so that fighters would have room to back up if large Grimm got on top, and so wouldn't be pushed off to their deaths. Wooden ladders were spaced every fifty metres along it and there was even a ramp further down the way, connecting to one of the roads leading through the Guild village.

It was cramped and crowded now. Weiss and I stood under the shade of the wooden platform above, which echoed every now and then when a guard walked down it. Our back yard had been turned into a storage depot. Weiss found a wooden support post to lean against and let out a little sigh.

"Yang told me a little of your plan. She was quite clear that it was a suggestion and not something you were about to start without speaking to me. I thought I'd expediate that."

"You don't want it? I can understand if you don't. You told us all about your father."

"Yes." Weiss closed her eyes. "I keep Myrtenaster with me as a way to remember him, that's true. But it's not the entirety of the story. You know how my Passive works."

"It makes it so you can only use swords to cast spells."

"Yes. It is a rather odd Passive, I know. It grants me more survivability in combat by letting me cast with a melee weapon, which is, in theory, a good thing."

"But not in practice. Because any Mage worth their salt isn't going to start casting spells when a Grimm is charging at them."

"Exactly. It's a foolish or desperate Mage who lets themselves fall into that situation. Of course, my Class and Passive and Skills don't have that knowledge. I suppose my Passive is trying to help, but it's more a hindrance. Staves, at least magical ones, can often benefit spellcasters by granting us more Intelligence, Wisdom or Constitution. Swords tend to come with Strength, Dexterity or Agility. Not exactly helpful in my case. Even if I can fight with a sword, I'm no good at it. It's not like you and pretending to be a Knight. At least your Strength and Constitution were high in both Classes, allowing you to fake it. Swordplay requires good Strength and Dexterity. Mine is abysmal."

It would be like me trying to use my utterly pathetic Charisma score to become a merchant. Sure, I knew the theory of it all thanks to my mom and could snatch a good deal, but it would be much harder to make a living that way. In fact, me as an ambassador might have been a better example. Something where Charisma was genuinely necessary.

"Would you be willing to wield a sword I made you, then?"

"I would. Within reason."

Weiss wouldn't have called me out here if she didn't have an idea of what she wanted. She wasn't one to waste time. "Go on."

"I want to keep Myrtenaster. I considered letting you re-forge it or combine it somehow in the forging, but I couldn't do it. Even if a part of it would be the same, it would feel like a different weapon to me. I don't want to change any part of it."

"A new weapon, then. Do you want it to be like Myrtenaster?"

"I was actually thinking something smaller. How small could you make a sword before it became a dagger?"

"I… I have no idea."

Weiss raised an eyebrow, as if to point out I was the Blacksmith here.

"It's not that I don't know," I explained. "More that I think it will be your Passive that is the judge, not me. It's no good asking me what I think counts as a sword if your Passive is going to be picky and say I've made a long knife."

"Ah. I suppose you're right. It might be too much to ask…"

"No. It's fine." At her surprised look, I said, "I'll just make you a bunch of knives of different shapes and sizes using some of the run-off from the spears. They'll be useless, but you can test them to see which you can cast through. Once we know the smallest that'll work, I can use Ironwood to make a sword that shape and size."

"A clever solution. I'm impressed. I suppose I could borrow and try with Blake's collection later. I'm sure she would let me."

"She would," I said. "Blake likes you."

Weiss chuckled. "And I enjoy her company as well. Strange how that came to be with her Class. I'll get back to you with the results. I assume you'll be putting a Rune of Intelligence on it?"

"Yeah. Unless you want something different?"

"No. That will be fine. Thank you for this. I'm not sure that Ironwood weapons will be useful for everyone else, but it should enhance my Spells some. I've heard that staves made of it are highly coveted among the elite in Atlas. Ironwood, the Archmage that is, is very careful on who he gives it out to."

Given his care of Weiss and Winter, I had a feeling he wouldn't mind in this case. I was surprised he hadn't done so before, but maybe that was why he needed my help, because he couldn't shape it as well. Or maybe he wanted me to take his place so he could fight on the frontlines. If I could shape and use Ironwood as he could, he wouldn't need to preserve his own life so fervently.

"What's this about Ruby, though?"

I groaned. "I thought you said you wouldn't pry?"

"I said that to Ruby and I haven't pried, but if you're going to slap it in my face then I'll react. You haven't done anything to her, have you?"

"What do you take me for?"

"A man. And she is a woman, for all that she can act like a child at times. You're also literally one of the two men that Ruby interacts with in her life, the other being Ren, someone who is essentially emotionless. You'll forgive me if I think it possible she might have developed some interest in the only possible man she could."

That had to be the most logical and methodical reason for someone to fall in love that I'd ever heard, and also the one that made the most sense. If Ruby were going to become interested in men, then who could she really look at? The only guys she really knew were me, Ren, her late uncle and her father.

Ren wasn't an option, given both his Passive and Nora's stated interest.

I, on the other hand, spent every day with her and was a close friend. We'd been friends for years now, almost three in total. Ruby was nineteen and I was twenty. That was a lot of time spent together in close quarters.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Weiss sighed. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't."

"What do I do?"

"You think I know!? Look at me and tell me how many partners I've had in the last three years. You are the most romantically experienced person in the Guild right now, unless Velvet has been sneaking off to snuggle with someone on the side. I'd be coming to you for advice if I needed it." Weiss paused to consider that. "Or Blake. Definitely Blake. I'd personally seek a woman's point of view, not that such helps you."

"Not really. I don't think Blake is the right person for me to talk to on this."

"At least you're not that hopeless." Weiss ran a hand through her hair. "Goodness. As if the oncoming siege wasn't bad enough. Now this. I suppose I can understand where she's coming from."

"You can?" I flushed.

"What are-?" Her eyes hardened. "Not that, you dolt! I'm saying I can understand why she chose to express her feelings now, not why she had them in the first place. Believe me, while I admire your drive and responsibility, I feel not an iota of sexual interest in you."

Ouch. My blush remained, though it had transformed from pleasure to embarrassment. "Why now?" I asked weakly.

"Because we're all of us unlikely to survive this."

The sombre words killed my embarrassment faster than a sword to the throat.

"We're strong," Weiss continued, "But we're strong for our age, not strong in general. Compared to a lot of the other Heroes here, we're bottom of the barrel. There are people out there from Level Seventy to Ninety. We can't compare to that, and while we've beaten people of those levels by working as a team, this is different. For once, we're going to be the ones outnumbered."

"We'll try. We'll fight and we'll do our best, but it doesn't change the fact that even if we win this war, it's going to be at a monumental cost in lives. It'll be those with the lowest Levels that die first. I don't hold any hope otherwise."

"They might not get through the walls," I said.

"Do you actually believe that?"

I didn't.

"Ozpin and Miss Goodwitch have already made up plans for street-to-street fighting," Weiss said. "Our newest projects are going to be in the city, creating blockades and checkpoints that can be closed off to funnel Grimm into killing zones. They fully expect the walls to fall and are preparing for it."

"They have to plan for every possibility…" Even as I said it, I knew this wasn't the case. We knew the walls would fall. Ozpin had as good as told me the average Labour Caste member would be expected to fight and die against the Grimm, equipped with my spears. "Sorry," I said. "I'm not trying to be naïve. Just keeping my spirits up."

"There's nothing wrong with that. The fact that we have plans for the walls falling is a good thing. Our leaders aren't taking anything for granted." Weiss looked away. "I'm not trying to be defeatist either. I truly believe we can win this. I believe we can defeat Salem. It's just… I'd be lying if I said I thought we would all come out of it alive. The odds of that happening are just too slim."

I had no argument.

"In that situation, if I had feelings for someone. I suppose I would want to get them out there, even if there's no time to make anything of them. I'd not want to be the one who survives and for the other not to, and to realise I missed the chance to say something. If that's the case, then I'm not sure Ruby wants or expects a response from you. She is saying it for her benefit. Because she doesn't want to die without having gotten those words out."

A nauseous feeling worked its way into my gut. I'd felt embarrassed before but now I just felt tired. Tired and a little ill. If that really was what Ruby was doing, then I couldn't fault it. I'd be saying my own goodbyes in time. Both to my friends and my family when they eventually came. It sounded morbid but it wasn't, more me wanting to make sure everyone knew how happy I was with them, how much I loved them and not to leave any unfinished words between us.

Ruby was getting a head start on that.

"What do I do?"

"I don't know." Weiss looked genuinely sorry for me. "If things were simpler, the two of you could just give it a go. I know that's not so easy now. I realise this will sound like the worst advice ever, but maybe talk to Blake?"

"About how some other woman kissed me?"

"About how Ruby kissed you. She is not `some other woman` to you or to Blake. And Blake isn't an idiot. She'll be able to read between the lines. Who knows, she might have a better idea of what to do than you or I." Weiss snorted. "Not that it would be difficult. I'm grasping around in the dark and you're just as lost."

"I'll think about it."

"Hm. I suppose that's all I can ask." Weiss pushed off the support pole. "Don't spend too long thinking about it. Time isn't a commodity any of us has in abundance."

"I know, but… telling Blake?"

"If I can be blunt, and a little harsh, it wouldn't be incorrect to say the biggest issues you faced when you snuck into Beacon were caused by an unwillingness to communicate your problems. That was our fault as well," she admitted, "But that's why I'm here telling you my exact feelings right now. You and Blake have always been at each other's throats because you don't talk things through. You both keep secrets and try to deal with things on your own. You with your Class and her with her own problems."

Weiss stepped past, patting my arm with one hand.

"Maybe try the other approach this time. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Blake would be angry at me."

"Because you were kissed by someone and then came to tell her?" Weiss pulled an expression. "That's my friend you're insulting. She'd be upset to find you making out with Yang behind the Lodge, not that Ruby is afraid of dying and tried to show her feelings. Give her a little credit."

I instantly felt horrible. "Right. I didn't mean it like that…"

"Talk. I know your Charisma is bad, but your mouth works just fine. It's a crazy idea, I realise, but maybe for once you and Blake could talk out your problems and not blunder through them like a pair of idiots."

Laughing, Weiss stalked away.

"Just a thought."


Sheesh, it's so much easier to write in a nice and cool office. Ah. Glorious. The reason I'm actually working and writing today is because I booked Monday off work, but STILL came into work. Crazy, huh? I literally came into work solely for air conditioning.

Not actually doing any work, though. Just taking advantage of having people make my tea for me.


Next Chapter: 8th July

P a treon . com (slash) Coeur