Chapter Nine
Oscar very obviously needed a break after all of that, and Ozpin gladly gave him three days in the greenhouse on the roof to put his thoughts in order. Nobody knew about the Grimm, the curse on his life, not even Abuela, and Oscar quickly agreed to tell no one. Ozpin himself closed his office for a few days, focusing on other parts of the job: contacting various mills for paper, ink, chalk, ordering herbs to recharge the reader, placing a new order of adverts in the papers for his soothsaying. He sat on the front steps with Calavera for conversation as he could, along with Dr. Polendina as the weather warmed. Both of them sensed his mood.
"I haven't seen you in a melancholy in over a year," Maria said, shaking her head. "Not since you got that boy of yours. What happened?"
"Nothing tragic," Ozpin said softly, looking down at his hands. "If that's what you're asking. He just has to come to terms with something I live with."
"Live with?" Calavera scoffed. "You mean that bad leg of yours? What happened, did you take a fall at the office or something?"
"Do you need me to take a look at it?" Pietro asked. "I read in a journal that there are some recent breakthroughs with the backbreaker, and Brothers know you've come further than a lot of people."
"No, not about that," Ozpin said with a weak smile, tapping his cane to the aforementioned leg. "Something much older."
"Don't take that mystery tone with me, Oz!" Calavera snapped, reaching out and smacking his shoulder. "I know how this works: that melancholy drags you down so low you barely talk - and I for one can't stand to have a tenant that I can't yell at. Go out back and check on that dusty old crow and his new pet project. I haven't heard anything for over an hour and I want to make sure he's still earning his keep. What you need is a project of your own!"
Ozpin shook his head but followed orders, limping down the hall and out to the back steps. Qrow had, indeed, a new project of some kind. Holes had been dug into the ground at the base of the steps, filled with crushed stone from the quarry he used to work at, and now wood stuck out of the holes, Qrow currently in his gi and zubon, using a shovel to back fill it. He looked up and smiled. "Hey, professor!" He said brightly, straightening and wiping a small sheen of sweat from his brow.
"Abuela wanted me to see how the work was going," Ozpin said.
"Not so bad," Qrow replied. "Gonna finish up the base supports by the end of the day today. After that the real construction begins."
"Construction?" Ozpin asked, out of energy and desperate for distraction. "What are you even building?"
"A ramp!" Qrow said brightly, tugging at his gi. "The doc's going to get some kind of chair on wheels, make him mobile again, so Maria wanted me to make a ramp for him to come in and out the building. I figure it will help you, too, in winter with all that ice."
"I… what?" he said, his focus narrowing to realize Qrow had thought of him at all.
His neighbor offered a rakish grin, and Ozpin found himself coloring slightly at the thoughtful gesture. "Well," he started, "Thank you, I suppose."
"Hah! Don't be like that Oz," Qrow said, straightening and tugging at his gi again. "Anybody watching you climb stairs would've thought of you when Maria threw the project at me. Not to say that I don't love helping you get up, I'd rather do that in a different context."
"I fail to understand what other context-" and then it hit Ozpin all at once, Oscar's indignant explanation of Qrow's interest in him, the comment about innuendo, and the phrase helping you get up. His pale cheeks betrayed him, and Qrow let out a raucous laugh.
"You finally got the joke!" he said, "Oz, you should see your face!" His laughter drew out and out and out, he started to run out of breath, wiping tears from his eyes. "Brothers' fye I wondered how long it would take for you to get it. Did the pipsqueak have to explain it? Brother of Light he did! Oh, that's even funnier!"
He was outright howling now, and Ozpin made a hasty retreat to… he didn't know where to escape to, the back steps were covered with Qrow's tools and he was loathe to go back to Calavera and he didn't want to climb upstairs to his apartment. He paused at the stairwell, dithering on what to do.
Qrow, of course, followed him. "Sorry, hey sorry," he said lightly, still trying to put away his laughter. "I didn't mean any offense, I swear."
Ozpin stared, uncertain what to say.
"Come on, don't be like that. Here, I'll help you out to the well, you can sit and sun yourself and watch me work and report back to Maria, okay? You can even take a pound of flesh for me laughing at you."
"I hardly-!"
"A joke, Oz, it was a joke. Damn you're touchy today. Here, let me move my tools so you can get down…"
Qrow cleared off the back steps and offered a hand. Ozpin refused it, still bright red, and made his way down the steps and limped into the common area, he saw the row of pots Oscar had explained would be his herbs for the sand table, lined up neatly by the fence furthest back to get the most light on an old, barely standing bench. Distraction enough, Ozpin bent down as he could to examine his future herbs. Nothing had sprouted yet, but the thought of it was nice, and thinking about the coming summer calmed him down. He sat by the well, just in the shade, and slowly turned to watch Qrow work.
His neighbor was back to shoveling, wiping his face on occasion and working in comfortable silence. The semblance of privacy helped, and Ozpin finally felt his cheeks begin to cool.
Eventually Qrow stood, arching his back and stretching one way and then the other. He walked over to the well, gi hanging open, and started lowering the bucket.
"Here," Ozpin said softly. "Let me." He stood, reaching out and taking over the rope. Qrow sat, one leg up as he watched Ozpin draw water from the well. He took the offered bucket and dunked his head in it wholesale, pulling up and then flicking his hair back - water sprayed everywhere, including across Ozpin.
"Sorry," Qrow said, running a hand down his face, offering a sheepish smile as water drizzled down to his shoulders. "You'd think spring wouldn't be all that warm, but then shoveling is a bit different than lugging stonework. And… sorry about earlier, too." He shook his head. "Just… watching you two react when I made a joke like that, seeing the kid choke and you miss it so completely, it was funny. Didn't realize I would be embarrassing you. Do they not have innuendo in Vale?"
… Any trace of his earlier laughter was long gone, he was being honest and open. Ozpin could admit, at least to himself, that he liked having a friend.
"We do," he said slowly. "But it doesn't completely translate. The double meaning is conveyed with the rhythm of the words changing and - well. I dare say this little revelation has made me look back on several conversations over the course of my life."
Qrow snorted but otherwise controlled his good humor, taking a corner of his open gi and wiping his face down. "I'll bet," he said carefully, grin bleeding onto his face.
"Oscar has it in his head that you are trying to romance me," Ozpin said, turning his gaze to his cane. "Is that true?"
The following silence was telling, and Ozpin felt his cheeks begin to heat again. He risked glancing at Qrow, saw his neighbor glaring up, likely at the greenhouse on the roof. Qrow saw him watching, coughed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Kid's pretty damn smart," he said. Not an answer, which was answer enough.
"I'm sorry," Ozpin said, looking back to his cane. "I had no idea, in Vale all courtships were announced with some kind of poem, even outside the chieftains."
"You must have been flooded with poems, then," Qrow said, his voice very carefully neutral. Both of them knew they had to tread carefully, and both of them were trying. Ozpin took solace in that.
"I was," Ozpin admitted, "but that hardly meant I had many in the way of admirers. My master was the last king of Vale, almost every courtship I received was less about me and more about getting close to him. And after…" After was the Grimm, the curse: isolation. "There were no poems after that."
Qrow scoffed, leaning back on the well. "I find that hard to believe," he said. "You are a sight even now with the bum leg. Besides, didn't you send any poems?"
Oh, now that was a long, long buried memory. "Only once," he said softly, letting the nostalgia of it drift over his senses. "We grew up together in the castle. I could never relate to the chieftain children, their early childhoods were nothing at all like mine, and their views of the world were… sheltered. He, however, was one of the staff children. We would play pranks together, steal sweets from the kitchens, complain about our respective training. He was my best friend. We kept in touch after the assassination, when I was attending Beacon. The chieftains were trying to use me then, but one day he visited and such feelings bloomed so suddenly in me that… Well," he said, looking down. "I made quite the fool of myself, but I was determined to pursue him."
"Let me guess, flat rejection."
Ozpin laughed. "Worse," he said, "He posted the poem across the campus, advertising his closeness to me to make inroads with the chieftains."
"Fye and filth," Qrow cursed, and Ozpin turned to see the dark look on his friend's face. "Filthy terrible way to treat a friend let alone a sweetheart."
Ozpin shrugged his shoulders. "Life at Beacon was hard," he said. "After the fire… I knew I had to leave. Mistral, I've recently learned, does not announce courtship here. If others were interested in me I woefully missed the signals."
Qrow snorted, running a hand through his moist hair. "You're right about that," he said. "No fancy poems here. Usually it's arranged between families, I'm told, but Raven and I grew up on the streets so who knows. On the streets you drop hints, and if they respond you have a good time for a couple of nights, and if you're lucky, longer."
"So then by that logic I assume you've had a string of…" Ozpin frowned. "I'm uncertain if courtship is the right word."
"Lovers, Oz," Qrow said with an exasperated half-smile. "And yeah, I've had a string of lovers, disasters down to the last. Guys, girls, didn't matter. The nights might have been fine but the days we were all fighting each other to eat or get paid. I broke my apprenticeship for a girl - swore up and down I was in love, and when she found out she spat on me and left for someone else. Then Raven met Tai and things were good for a while - but Raven, she was as much of a disaster as me. Having a kid scared her right down to her bones, and she disappeared."
"I'm sorry," Ozpin said, turning to face Qrow more fully. "I can't imagine getting emotionally attached so quickly so many times. It must have been difficult."
"Emotions, he says," Qrow muttered, smirking and shaking his head. "Oz, feelings had nothing to do with it. You lay with who you think is hot and vice versa. The emotions come later."
Ozpin shook his head. "I cannot imagine that," he said. "Forgive me if that sounds rude. But the order has always been the reverse for me; I have the emotional attachment first and then the heat you describe. My one chance at courtship… That had been the first…"
"Others since then?"
"Two. One of them caught the bleeding cough and died in Vacuo, the other left when I caught the backbreaker before I could even write a poem."
"So you're cursed then," Qrow said, having no idea how heavy that word suddenly sat in Ozpin's stomach. His neighbor snorted. "Just like me; what a pair we are! Both trying to find a partner and it never working out. Fye and filth, just my luck." He stretched his arms up over his head, arching in either direction before leaning back on the lip of the well, hands under his head.
They sat together, Ozpin quickly working through his reaction to the word "cursed," pulling himself out of that spiral to see Qrow stretched out on the well like a lazy cat, a loose knee swinging back and forth as he watched the clouds above. Ozpin looked up, eyes tracing the puffs of white and blue. It was a beautiful spring day, the weather warm for the first time in months. He saw movement on the roofline, Oscar walking around to the greenhouse before pausing and looking over the lip of the roofline.
He waved, and Ozpin waved back, a smile crossing his features at seeing his son.
"He's the best thing that's ever happened to me, Oscar is," he said, lowering his gaze back to Qrow.
"He's a good kid. How'd you get him?"
"The orphanage three milles from here."
Qrow finally sat up, face shocked. "So he's not blood at all?"
"No."
"Wow," Qrow said. "Lucky kid. What even made you want to adopt in the first place?"
Ozpin offered a soft, weary smile. "I was lonely," he said simply. "There's more to it than that, of course, but in the end, at the heart of the matter, I was tired of being alone. As we've established I am pitifully ill-equipped for courtship, or lovers to use your word. And you don't need a sand table to read that the war after six years is just going to get uglier and uglier. I've no idea how I got so lucky to get him, he's never given me a lick of heartache, and I love him so very deeply."
He looked up, saw Qrow was smiling, soft and warm. "I'll lay money he thinks he's the lucky one in the deal," he said, leaning forward to his elbows. "Anybody'd be lucky to have a pop like you."
Heat, deep inside, pooled in Ozpin in a strange way, and his cheeks colored from something different than embarrassment. "You've hardly seen me parent him much," he said, confused what was happening inside him and confused how Qrow could make a statement with such certainty.
"The hell I haven't," Qrow said, shaking his head. "Oz, you know the first time I saw you - sober, I mean? It was because instead of stepping over a drunk on the front steps you gave me some tea to help with the hangover. Not even Clover did that for me, and he was the closest I ever came to a 'courtship.' He just let me sleep it off and told me not to do it again. Tai would do something like that for me, but he had Yang and Ruby to raise, and nobody wants a drunk around kids."
Ozpin frowned. "Did he ever tell you that?"
"Naw," Qrow answered. "Didn't need to, it was written all over his face when I would come home lushed."
"And yet, before the war, you visited once a year, is that not so?"
"Yeah, so?"
Ozpin frowned, calculating how to say his next thought. "Qrow," he said, "I find it hard to believe someone who did not want a drunk near his children would allow you to visit them once a year. Did he ever indicate he didn't want you there when you visited? Did he ever outright say he did not want you there?"
Qrow paused, really paused, the idea settling into his brain.
"Do your nieces hate you?"
"... No," Qrow said, frowning, thinking. "They love me for some Brothers' damned reason. They're always shouting and dancing when they see me coming up the road. And Tai… he always smiled…"
Ozpin nodded. "Then, perhaps, it was your own insecurities that kept you away."
Qrow was wide-eyed now, brows up in his damp clumps of hair, and he gulped as his world view started to shift. Ozpin tried to press the point, "Would he enjoy seeing you now? Mostly sober and working for your landlady?"
"I-"
"Qrow Branwen! I sent Oz back here to check on you, not for you to seduce him! Get off that well and finish working on these back steps! You have all your tools in a pile and I damn near tripped over them."
"Oh, fye on you, Maria!" Qrow growled, standing up. "A guy can't take a ten minute break from shoveling-"
"Not when you're on my timetable you washed out old has-been! Get back to work before you take any more advantage of the professor!"
"Advantage?!"
The shouting match went on for several minutes, both of them hurling epitaphs at each other and Ozpin left to simply watch the show.
Neither of them had answered the question of courtship, but… Ozpin felt… good… regardless of the answer.
"Will I ever enjoy the first of the month?" Oscar asked in dull tones, amusing Ozpin to no end.
"I've never enjoyed it," he replied with a light grin. "Paying invoices, placing orders, balancing the ledger. There's a reason I take nothing but walk-ins the first of the month. As it is, we'll be pouring over the paperwork for the rest of the day if we don't get a client."
Oscar made a face. "Lunch hasn't even been sent up yet," he complained, stomach growling in agreement.
Ozpin chuckled. "Well, if I want any hope of moving my ankle enough to get home tonight I need to move around for a bit. I'll go down and get our lunch, maybe talk with Leo for a few minutes, get the blood circulating. It will give you a chance to check your summations, I know you don't like me over your shoulder anymore for that."
"You sure?" Oscar asked.
"Yes, I'll see you in a bit."
The first few steps were nearly impossible, he knew he would be needing his special tea later in the day to help with the pain, but as he moved down the hall his ankle started to limber up. Down four flights of stairs he was downright nimble, and he was able to move easily into the Crow's Nest. The man at the bar saw him and knew immediately what he wanted. "Sorry!" he said lightly, "Chickens got in late this morning. It's cooking now, you should be getting it in the next forty minutes or so. Do you want to wait here?"
"No, send it up when you can. My apprentice and I were simply getting hungry, that's all. I'm surprised you couldn't hear our stomachs from upstairs."
The Valean laughed, "Is that what all the noise was about?" he asked airily. "Alright. I'll send someone up when it's ready."
"Thank you kind-" Ozpin, stopped, looking across the way and seeing a familiar silhouette. Surprised, he turned back to his fellow Valean. "Does he come here regularly?"
"Who? Branwen? Oh, yeah. You should have seen him before last winter, came every night and drank 'til he couldn't see straight. Don't know how he got the money to settle his tab, he was a mess."
"And now?"
"Once a week or so," he replied. "But it's different, you can tell. Since spring he'll stop by here for a meal once in a while; he's got a new job or something in his building. How do you know him?"
"He's my neighbor," Ozpin replied. He moved across the tavern, most of the tables empty, and circled around Qrow's table. His friend was not munching on lunch, however, but had a bottle of his preferred whiskey, glass full and he was staring at it with a dour scowl. Oh, dear.
Ozpin sat across from his friend, resting his cane on the table. "It's a little early for that, don't you think?" he asked.
Qrow shot a dark glance at Ozpin, showing darker eyes that hadn't slept. He didn't reply, just grabbed the glass and knocked it back. He didn't, however, immediately pour himself another, and Ozpin hoped that was a good sign.
"Did something happen?" he asked, guessing. "Did a letter arrive from your friend Tai?"
"Tch. Not a letter," Qrow muttered. "What the hell are you even doing here?"
"Waiting for lunch. My office is upstairs."
That pulled Qrow's attention, his eyes settling on Ozpin more thoroughly. "This is your building?" he asked. "Brother of Light's fye, I been coming here for years." He poured himself another drink. "Just my luck, isn't it? You working your damndest upstairs and I'm down here being a filthy drunk. Dark Brother's filth I'm pathetic. How do you put up with me? How does anybody put up with a no good, worthless, useless piece of-" He knocked back his second drink.
"Come upstairs with me," Ozpin said quickly, reaching out and touching Qrow's hand before he poured another shot. "You can have lunch with us when it comes up, food will do you better than this," He reached his cane around the bottle and drew it away. "I'll make some tea, and we can talk."
"Oz," Qrow said, glaring again. "This isn't your problem."
"No," he said, "But you are my friend, and I'd rather you share bad news than let it fester inside you. Company, I've found, can forestall the greatest of depressions."
"I don't deserve-"
"Please," Ozpin said. "Come upstairs with me."
Qrow relented, and Ozpin quickly got up, snatching the bottle of whiskey and returning it to the barkeep. Qrow outright growled, but he followed Ozpin, slouched forward and hands in his dusty, threadbare pants. The trip up the four flights of stairs was an excellent workout for Ozpin, but Qrow was in a downright black mood by the time he made it to the top of the building. Dark curses were falling out of his mouth but Ozpin willfully ignored them.
"Now then," he said, opening the door to his office. "Let's have some tea and talk."
"Professor, we have a walk-in!"
… What perfect timing. Ozpin quickly put a smile on and adjusted his spectacles, stepping in as Qrow followed him through the door. "Hello and welco-"
"Uncle Qrow?!"
"Yang? What in Brothers' name are you doing here? I told you to stay in the apartment!"
"And I told you that wasn't going to happen!"
"Wait," that was Oscar, "You two know each other?"
Qrow stepped aggressively across the room. "What the hell are you doing here? You can barely move as it is and now you're wandering the city like some street rats aren't going to rob you blind?"
Yang, Ozpin could finally see, was a tall girl - no, tall young woman, with fiery gold hair pulled up in a tail. Most painfully, however, one sleeve was pinned to her shoulder, her aborted limb bound to her torso. Her eyes were just as dark as Qrow's, bereft of sleep, and her face had a sickly pallor. "You think I was just going to sit and stew in that dump you call an apartment and do nothing while you went out to get drunk? I'm starting to wonder why I even came here!"
"You-! I told you I wasn't going to be of any use to you! I told you to go home to Tai where he could take care of you! You're the one that decided to stay and now it's my fault?"
"I thought you could help me!"
"Well I can't!"
"Well that's pretty obvious now!"
Ozpin was still catching up on all the shouting, and a glance at Oscar saw he was just as overwhelmed as he. Their shouting seemed to fill the room and Ozpin took a deep breath and lifted his cane, pounding it to the floor and overriding all the noise. The woman, Yang, turned to glare. Qrow did the same but his mouth was sadly not closed. "Stay out of this you flaming piece of filth!"
The curse made Oscar gasp, and that small sound finally seemed to catch the two fighters. Ozpin said nothing, kept his gaze cool and professional, let the weight of Qrow's words linger. To his credit, the other man was wide-eyed, having heard what he said, and the surprise followed slowly with dark regret. Ozpin threw a quick glance to his son, silently sending a message, and Oscar nodded in agreement.
"Miss… Yang was it?" Ozpin said. "My apprentice Mr. Pine says you are here for a reading. Is that correct?"
Yang huffed, still hot blooded under her sickly pale complexion. "Yeah," she said, full of defiance.
"Do you really? Or are you saying that to spite your uncle?"
"No," she hissed, throwing Qrow a dirty look. "I really want a reading."
"She doesn't have any lien on her, professor," Oscar said softly.
Ozpin pursed his lips and exhaled silently through his nose. "We can settle payment later," he said. "Step into the other room, I'll be with you shortly."
"I'm coming, too," Qrow said as Yang moved to the side door.
"No, you are not," Ozpin said, returning his attention to his friend. The dark glare was back, but Ozpin didn't back down. "Readings are often very private, patterns belong only to the client, things will be said that she needs to hear but you might not."
"Then I'm going downstairs," Qrow muttered.
"No, you're not doing that, either," Ozpin said, leaning on his cane. "You are going to stay here, have tea with Mr. Pine, and help him with his ledgers. We'll talk more later."
He started to shuffle to the reading room, Oscar worrying his hands as he sometimes did. He leaned in, said in his softest voice, "Don't let him go downstairs."
Oscar nodded, understanding, and Ozpin moved into his smaller office. He squeezed by Miss Yang and sat across from her at the sand table, pulling the charging wreath out from around the basin and placing it on his desk.
"Well," he said lightly. "You want a reading."
Yang was slouched forward just like her uncle, scowling. "Does this really work?" she asked, throwing a skeptical glance at the sand table.
"Yes, though I suppose you're not in a position to take my word for it. Your accent indicates you are from Vale. I'm curious how you managed to even come here. After losing Southpoint last year the Imperial Court has tightened security around the city."
"Won't your fancy table tell you?" she asked, moving to cross her arms and wincing both in pain and in realization that she couldn't.
"You're very pale, Miss Yang," Ozpin said. "Do you want to rest before we do this?"
That seemed to dig under her skin. She shook her head and shoved her hand onto the fulcrum. "Work your magic," she said derisively.
Ozpin sighed. "As you wish," he said. He withheld the offer to hold hands, that would be a cruel reminder of what was obviously a recent injury. Instead he opened his magic and placed his hand on the fulcrum. "What question do you want answered?"
"... what am I gonna do, now that I'm broken?" she said, her voice dull.
The plum line started to move, and Ozpin focused on the question, seeing what he needed to see.
"... Your father is deeply worried about you," he said once the pattern was done. "He's known for a long time that you have felt insecure. Since the raven left, and since you lost your summer. He sensed your anxiety and wanted only for you to be happy. He would not be disappointed in you to learn what's happened, as you fear, but be grateful that you are alive and well. I would advise sending him a letter. As for being broken, you have not broken yet. You are injured, yes, but your spirit has not been destroyed, only battered. You are a fighter, down to your very bones. You are a defender, standing up to those who are helpless and fierce when protecting your loved ones."
"You can guess any of that from talking to Uncle Qrow," Yang muttered.
"Perhaps," Ozpin said, leaning back, "But he does not know how you lost your arm, does he?"
Her eyes widened.
"You were one of the fighters at Southpoint; the attack was successful, and for the entire winter you and Vale got to know the city, connect with the villagers, learn their ways and help them as Mistral never did. You and the black cat were scouts to see if you could campaign further north. During that advance a person from the black cat's past assailed her, and both of you moved further north than your assignment allowed. You were discovered by a scouting party of Mistral. The fighting was bitter, you fought tooth and nail, and the black cat saved your life after you lost your arm, dragging you for three days to get you somewhere to heal before disappearing herself. Am I wrong?"
Yang stared at him, wide eyed, mouth slightly open.
"You have a personal battle to fight, right now," Ozpin said, "That has to be decided before you can know what you will do afterward. In terms of the immediate, your uncle will, in fact, be a great help to you. He knows what it's like to be swept off one's feet like you have, and he is learning how to come back from that. He can teach you, if you want to learn and he wants to teach. If the two of you come out the better for it, you will learn exactly how to fight as you were always meant to."
"There's a lot of ifs there," she said, but the rancor wasn't in her voice anymore.
"That's because you are currently in a paradigm shift," Ozpin said. "One of two things could happen: you will learn from your uncle and become the best version of yourself, or you will not learn from your uncle and struggle with yourself for the rest of your life."
He stood, stiff but mobile. Yang was pale enough he wasn't sure she could stand. She managed, but swayed slightly on her feet. Ozpin helped her to the front room, Qrow getting up immediately, but Ozpin set her down in one of the chairs.
"Oscar, get Leo, please," he said softly. "Miss Yang can certainly handle herself, but I think some help downstairs for a hot meal would not be remiss."
"Got it," Oscar said, grateful to get up and get away.
"Qrow, it's your turn."
"My turn for what?" his friend asked, hand on Yang's good shoulder.
"Your reading."
"My what? Oz, I didn't ask for a reading, and you know Maria doesn't pay me enough-"
"Qrow," Ozpin said, tired and hungry and not really in the mood for his neighbor's obstinate attitude. "Get into the other room. Now."
For a minute he thought his friend was going to fight him, but he simply tsked and moved to the other room. Ozpin saw the tea set, Oscar already anticipating his needs, and he poured a cup for Miss Yang, making certain she had three sips. Leo arrived, taking in the information with a sweep of the eye and smiling as Oscar moved to take his seat. Ozpin put a reassuring hand on his shoulder before going back to the side room.
Qrow was staring at the sand reader, eyes soaking in everything, but his gaze closed off immediately when Ozpin walked in. "You know selling this could feed you for years?" he asked.
"And divorce me from one of my only reminders of my old master," Ozpin countered, frustrated and trying to contain it. "You have a problem, Qrow."
"I know that Oz," his friend said, leaning back in his chair. "She just showed up on my doorstep two days ago, no explanation. Fye and filth, she damn near collapsed in my arms. She walked for Brothers only knows how long to even get here; I don't even know how she knew my address - I don't think I ever told Tai."
"Your niece is not your problem," Ozpin said. "You are."
Qrow snorted. "Story of my life, Oz."
"No," he countered, shaking his head. "You need to hear this: the time for self-pity is over. You cannot continue as you are if you expect to teach Miss Yang how to flourish in spite of her injury."
"Filth, Oz, how's she gonna flourish?" Qrow growled, low in his throat. "Look at her!"
"Do you think I'm not flourishing?" Ozpin countered, needing to get through to his friend. "Do you think Dr. Polendina any less value without the use of his legs? That patients don't come to his apartment regularly for treatment? You work in the building now, you would know better than me."
"That's different, Oz," Qrow said, utterly resistant. "He doesn't need his legs to be a doctor. You don't need your legs to be a soothsayer. Yang, she's a fighter. How can she fight without-"
"Qrow," Ozpin said, over his friend. His stomach growled, lunch would be coming up soon but this had to be handled first. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Qrow," he said again. "Can you honestly tell me that fighting is only done with one's fists? That you have not battled for months to get yourself to where you are? That my year of recovery after the backbreaker was not a personal war I fought with myself over?"
"But Oz-"
"No. No buts, no demurrals, no asides, no dismissals, no redirects, nothing but the truth: Miss Yang will fight again. The question is not if; it is when and how."
Qrow's eyes narrowed. "You see something?" he asked, eyes darting to the reader.
"Nothing I can share with you. As I said, readings are private. But Qrow, you don't need a sand table to see that she will fight again. You have to ask yourself, how will you teach her to fight?"
"Oz, I'm not cut out-"
"Oh, Qrow," Ozpin said, rubbing his forehead. "I understand you can't see it, I understand you don't know yourself that well, but you are a fighter, too. Oscar would not be here if you had not intervened last fall with the garden requisitions. Miss Yang is cut from your cloth, the both of you defend the weak with fiery passion. She has not been worn down by her experiences - and as hurt as she is, her spirit has not been bent like yours has. Show her how to climb back from something like this. Be the role model you looked for so desperately in Clover."
The name made Qrow sit ramrod straight, tension bursting to life in his frame. His face moved from one expression to the next: shock, hurt, outright pain, confusion, surprise, others Ozpin couldn't immediately name. He waited, tried to let his friend come to his own conclusion. He still didn't know everything about the mysterious past lover of Qrow's life, but enough had been said that Ozpin understood parts of the relationship. It was a risk to drop that name, and he waited to see if his gamble paid off.
"Oz… I don't know how," Qrow said, eyes moist when he finally came back from his thoughts. "She's so young, what am I supposed to do?"
"Again, I don't need a sand table for that," Ozpin said. "You need to lead by example. Words aren't enough for Miss Yang, she is a woman of action. You need to talk to her about your life, but you also need to show her, day by day, that she isn't broken. Tell her what it was like when you finally broke, and then show her how you put yourself back together."
"Damn it all, Oz, I'm not back together!" Qrow growled again, frustrated.
"Then pretend you are," Ozpin insisted, his voice intense as his hunger. "Qrow, when I came here to Haven I knew utterly nobody, I had no connections, no inroads, no way to ingratiate myself to others, and barely any understanding of Mistral's culture and traditions. I had to pretend for months that I belonged here, I was a library assistant at university for two years before they trusted me enough to actually teach. There is a phrase in Vacuo: fake it until you make it."
"She's not an idiot, Oz, she'll see through the act!"
"Yes," Ozpin agreed quickly. "But she will also see that you are trying, and you and I both know that's what she needs more than anything else right now. She thinks there's nothing left for her, same as Dr. Polendina, same as me at multiple points in my life. She cannot give up, and you should not give up before you even try. She deserves better than that, and whether you see it or not, so do you."
He leaned back, a little surprised that he had pushed forward so much over the course of the conversation. He took a long, slow breath through his nose, recentering himself. "I'm sorry for being so heated," he said, running a hand through his hair again. "You were right earlier, this is not my problem, and I am overstepping."
Qrow, too, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, too," he mumbled. "I just… I'm not used to someone pushing me so much."
"Well," Ozpin said, "You have to push yourself now. Unless you want to let Miss Yang down and prove yourself right."
"... I don't want that," Qrow said, looking down. "Brothers, she was the best tree climber in Patch… she was so small, with the whole world ahead of her…"
Ozpin reached over the reader, taking his friend's hand. "She hasn't changed, Qrow," he said softly. "Not where it counts. That's what you need to nurture."
"... and you really think I can do it?" he asked. His voice was small for the first time, vulnerable, insecure.
"Yes," Ozpin said softly. "If you don't believe me, you can ask the sands."
Qrow looked down to the reader again, reaching out with a calloused hand and rubbing a finger along the edge of the basin. Yang's reading was still there, uncopied, shouting desperately for her uncle's help in a pattern Qrow would never understand. His friend put his hand on the fulcrum, thumbing it. "What job should I get?" he asked. "Sands can answer that, right?"
"Yes," Ozpin said. "A moment." He quickly made a copy of Yang's reading for later, mimicking the sweeping gestures and details before setting it aside. He grabbed a well loved metal scraper and placed it at the center of the sands, turning it in slow circles to clear away the pattern until the basin was blank. "You can hold my hand, if you wish," Ozpin said as he activated his magic, "it helps with accuracy."
"Holding hands, huh?" Qrow said with a dry, tired smirk. "You're a shameless flirt, Oz." He took his hand.
Ozpin let the magic take over, a simple question making a simple pattern. Ozpin frowned slightly, seeing how far the job would go, the war coming to the city…? Qrow's own paradigm shift and the haze of the war made the pattern uncertain, and he filed away the observation to show Oscar later. His son still needed to be shown that the future was not already written.
"You have several choices," he said when he was done, "because you have several skills. Of the different paths, the one that gives you the most choices is to be a crowmaster. You are already partially trained, it keeps you close to home while your niece heals, and gives you access to information you might need in the future."
"What kind of information?" Qrow asked, frowning.
Ozpin traced his finger over the pattern for war. "... I'm not certain," he said, putting on an easy smile. "The sands hardly tell me if you need to catch up on the humanities."
Qrow snorted at the joke, shaking his head. "Soothsaying," he muttered. "Maybe I should ask what I'm having for dinner tonight."
"You and your niece can eat with us, if she's up for it," Ozpin offered, standing. His hunger made his vision telescope for a second, but he shook it off easily. "Speaking of food," he said lightly, "I believe lunch was supposed to come up."
"Oh, fye on me, sorry, Oz." Qrow got up immediately, reaching for the door and opening it. The smell of chicken and vegetables made Ozpin's mouth water, and Qrow stepped aside to let him into the sitting room. Oscar had the food already spread out on the desk, bless that boy, and was standing and waiting.
"Miss Xiao Long is downstairs eating with Mr. Lionheart," he said quickly. "And I sent a message to Dr. Polendina to expect her afterwards. She's very pale."
"Thank you Oscar," Ozpin said lightly, even as he sat down heavily. He looked to Qrow, silently asking a question.
"Yeah, Oz," his friend replied. "I got it from here."
Author's Notes: Like, literally it's only two scenes, but I feel like a lot happens.
The first is obviously the softer of the two scenes. Like most of history there isn't a word for the different sexualities of life but here we establish Qrow is bi and Oz is demi, same as in Defining a Life. They're our personal headcannons. Both of them season their backstories with a few details - Oz's is more fleshed out due to the nature of the fic but Qrow's backstory from the show slots pretty neatly with the world we created here, so there isn't as much to divulge. They're also very much adults in this scene - both of them have bad luck with partners are both of them are interested (not that Oz realizes that yet), so both of them are careful in navigating the whole idea of a relationship. Oz has a ways to go, but Qrow now understands that this is going to be a slow burn and he's willing to wait for it.
Yang also - of course - makes an arrival, in an absolute mess. We can't get into too much yet, but Oz outlines she went through hell to get this far. This might be obvious but technology is in no way ready to giver her a cybernetic arm, so she really does have to learn a lot all over again. And before anyone asks, no Adam this fic. Like, we're really trying to keep a narrow focus here instead of wandering around all over the place.
Oz shines as a sayer to Qrow by, er, not really using the reader and just being an advise giver. Also, what was that thing about war coming to the city...? (evil grin)
Next chapter: Market day shennanigans with Oscar, Penny, and Yang.