Chapter Thirty-Four

Qrow woke up slowly, floating in warmth. A random thought came to him then dispersed before he could even process it. As he woke up further, he was aware of an arm loosely over his waist, a sleepy sigh before something snuggled up to the back of his neck.

He smiled. He could get used to waking up with Ozpin. Qrow took a moment to just enjoy his lover at his back. It wasn't the same as Clover. Clover's thick arms had left Qrow feeling like he was surrounded by a blanket. Ozpin was more bony, and not just because of how hungry everyone had been. If Clover had been a blanket, Ozpin was like a vine.

Qrow gave a quiet snort. Ever since he worked so cursed hard to write that poem, he'd had the poetic thought from time to time.

Well, some people were worth learning poetry for.

Qrow lounged for a few minutes, but eventually sighed. One thing Oscar and he adamantly agreed on was letting Ozpin sleep in whenever he could. He'd spent long years alone, needing to get up and do everything, and both Qrow and Oscar wanted to give Ozpin that time he'd never had before to just stay in bed.

Ozpin always frowned when they did it, but his body had no problem sleeping longer. Qrow took that as a victory.

He came from behind the privacy screen to find Oscar just coming into the apartment, clean chamber pot in hand.

"You get dressed," Qrow said softly. "I'll go lug up the water for the day."

Oscar gave a muffled yawn, but nodded.

He headed down to the outhouse, did as necessary, then started hefting water up from the well. The first bucket he used with the soap he'd brought down to just clean up and scrub his face and hands. It left him shivering and freezing in the morning cold, but he filled his two buckets for the day and set them across his shoulders to head back upstairs. One of the buckets went into the wash basin, the other was set aside for cooking or smaller cleaning projects, like filling the pitcher after Oscar had used the last of yesterday's to shave, so that Qrow could sit down to shave as well.

Once clean, changed, and ready for the day, Qrow joined Oscar by the stove. Oscar had made some sort of batter and was watching some sort of cake rise in the pan before carefully flipping it over.

"Smells good."

Oscar nodded. "I found the recipe in one of Ozpin's cookbooks. I think I've learned enough Valean that I translated it correctly. Maybe."

"If it doesn't work, I know where we can get some steamed dumplings cheap this early, she owes me a favor," Qrow said softly, but scowled. "If we need to, let me leave three minutes ahead of you. Make it look like you had the same thought as me. I'll eat my dumplings there until you join up, and then we can finish the walk."

Oscar nodded, never questioning the need to make sure the white witch bitch never realized their connection outside of being neighbors.

"You still haven't found her?" Oscar asked.

Qrow's scowl deepened. "I don't think she's in the city. I don't really have contacts outside of Haven, other than Tai. And Tai has connections in Vale, but I don't think the bitch is that far away. She'll want to watch Oz suffer."

Oscar frowned, then sighed.

"I'm heading to the roof. Ruby should be up there and I want to check in."

That and ask Yang if she'd learned anything after being on the patrol for months. At this point, she might know more about how to hunt down the white witch bitch. The knife that was at the small of Qrow's back was waiting for her, after all.

"You know Ozpin will want you with us for breakfast," Oscar said lightly.

"I plan on it." Qrow gave a wry grin. "I do have to pretend to live upstairs to justify paying that rent to Maria. Ruby can't handle that yet."

"She'd do better at it than you," Oscar retorted softly.

"Says who?" Qrow tossed back as he headed back out.

Upstairs, he found Ruby still asleep and rolled his eyes. He ripped the blanket off, exposing her to the cold morning air, making her yelp.

"Uncle Qrow!"

"You're late, halfpint," Qrow replied, lighting the fire in the stove and adding kindling. "You won't be much of a crowmaster if you can't wake before the sun in the winter."

"Ergh, it's not winter yet," Ruby moaned. "It's still autumn."

"Then you're getting ready for winter," Qrow replied. "How's Maria's basement?"

"The building knows it needs to be filled and while we've been focusing on the Professor, those of us here have been pickling all the vegetables. I think the Browns have been doing nothing but berry syrups while all the berries were out this summer. I've been pickling whatever's leftover from anything I cook, so has everyone else. No one really knows how Oscar knew what to plant when, so I don't think we'll have as much, but…"

"The revolutionists are still distributing and we've got an empty lot now as well." Qrow nodded. "Families are getting their own supplies as well as storing with Maria." Only the brothers knew what that meant for this winter. "Okay, show me the ledgers."

"Uncle Qrow!"

He laughed. Yang came over in a few moments, in uniform, and looking like she'd already taken her morning run.

Qrow, of course, teased her. "So morning run or was Blake needy this morning?"

Yang gave a wide, unrepentant grin. "Both."

Ruby sputtered and Qrow just tilted his back and laughed. "Nicely done, snapdragon. You make her pass out? Is that why you're here alone?"

"That's not something you're going to know," Yang sat down at one of the mismatched chairs at the cobbled together table. "Unless you want to share how it's going between you and the Professor."

Qrow matched her unrepentant grin and added a swagger as he sat down. "Well, if you must know, we were-"

"Enough!" Ruby hissed. "Are you both teenagers trying to outdo each other with wildly untrue stories?"

"Hey," Qrow kept his easy smile, "not all my stories are untrue."

"Brothers, I don't even want to know which ones are actually true."

"Well…."

"Quit while you're ahead, Ruby," Yang said. "The only other choice is to match the outrageousness."

Ruby, now twenty, rolled her eyes and pouted like a child.

"That's exactly the outrageousness needed," Yang said sagely.

They chuckled.

Qrow let the laugh settle, then turned serious. "Still nothing on the white witch bitch?"

"No," Ruby said, immediately sitting up, then standing up to go to the crate where she kept her clothes. "I have one crow a day with a fake message looking for her, but there's no way she's in the city. Your crows are good, but they can't go hunting for her in the countryside."

"I know," Qrow nodded. "Crows can only go a distance if they know where they're going or who they're going to. Finding a person only works in the city. The crow's at Leo's building aren't even ready for that kind of search."

Not yet, at any rate.

"Nothing on the patrol either," Yang added. "The chief knows I'm looking for her and she knows to get word to me, but the chief only knows about the borough. She can put out word in the other boroughs, but they don't have the same drive for it. They watch for the description, but that's all they can do."

"Fye and filth."

"Weiss hasn't heard anything either," Ruby added. "She's been talking to a lot of the elite in her area, see if anyone has an unusual customer for deliveries in the country nearby or something."

"And Blake's contacts aren't finding anything either." Yang frowned heavily. "She might not even be in the country any more."

Qrow shook his head. He knew. He knew with certainty that the white witch bitch was waiting. She'd shown up a year ago to watch Ozpin die and he hadn't yet. She would be wanting to see him suffer and then make sure he died. She knew there was a lover, so she'd probably be trying to find the worst thing to do, if Grim even worked like that. She had some sort of spiteful demon in her that had turned her into a maker, from a young age from what Ozpin had whispered when he'd woken up from a nightmare.

"We'll have to keep looking," he said. "You don't mess with family."

He'd keep Oz safe.

Ruby and Yang nodded.

"Well, time for you to have a lovey-dovey breakfast!" Ruby chirped. "I'm sure the Professor is up after however you exhausted him last night, which I don't want to know!"

Qrow laughed. "Halfpint, you have a lot of work to do. You know Oscar would be staying here if Oz and I were going to see how far a finger-"

"Lalalalala! I'm not hearing this! Brothers, who would ever want to hear about their uncle's sex life!"

"Want to know about mine instead?" Yang asked with a smile, also standing.

"Ew! Gross!"

Qrow chuckled and headed back down to Ozpin's apartment.

Oscar was setting the table and Ozpin was up, if not quite awake.

Chuckling, Qrow stepped over. "Your buttons are all messed up," he said, reaching for Oz's shirt.

Oz gave a sleepy kiss before muttering, "...tea…"

Oscar laughed softly as Qrow wondered how his lover ever managed on his own. Mornings were not agreeable it seemed. Oscar gave a cup of tea that Oz sipped while Qrow unbuttoned the shirt, took a moment to appreciate, then buttoned it back up. They sat back down and Ozpin slowly came to life with his tea. He finally pushed back his dark glasses, rubbed his eyes thoroughly, and looked to them.

"Good morning."

"Welcome to the land of the living," Qrow muttered.

Ozpin gave a sheepish grin. "I apologize."

"It's fine," Oscar said lightly, pouring some berry syrup over the strange flat cakes he'd been making.

"Hmm," Ozpin hummed. "I don't think I've had pancakes like these since… Beacon, I suspect."

"Pang-caiiksu," Qrow attempted to mimic the pronunciation.

Both Ozpin and Oscar laughed. Breakfast continued, each going over their various plans for the day.

"It looks like rain," Qrow explained. "So I'll stay by the booth in the lobby. Most know not to bother sending a messenger crow in bad weather. I'll go up and check the murder to make sure the weather isn't bugging them a few times."

"We'll be doing the usual," Oscar said, sipping his own tea. "We have three appointments for today, the rest will be walk-ins. Another of Robyn's articles came out this week, so I think we might have more people coming in."

Qrow nodded. "If the weather does turn bad, I think we should head straight home. Were you planning on stopping off anywhere?" He looked at Ozpin, who was staring at his tea, frowning.

"I think…" Oz shook his head. "I think I need to be part of the negotiations up the mountain."

"...What?"

"Um, er, huh?"

Ozpin looked up from his tea. "I'm sorry for the non-sequitur. I was just thinking-"

"You were thinking crazy," Qrow said. "General Bastard is up there and he'd snatch you up as fast as he snatched up Oscar."

"You can't," Oscar whispered.

Ozpin sadly looked away. "I'm sorry, I should have considered how to approach this."

"There's nothing to approach," Qrow replied. "He had you reading while you were delirious. He kidnapped Oscar. You can't be anywhere near him."

Ozpin sighed. "I'm thinking about this proactively."

Qrow's jaw dropped. There was no way. There was no way on Remnant that Oz was actually considering this. "What the filth about going up to those negotiations is proactive?"

Ozpin sat up and straightened his shoulders and looked both of them in the eyes. "I have made the choice to not bow down to the Grimm over my life. I have chosen to be happy with you and Oscar. But my sister remains out there."

"I know," Qrow growled. "I've still got a knife with her name on it. I'm still searching. Yang's making contacts in the patrol, Ruby's got our best crows searching, Robyn's keeping an eye out, Tai's even looking out in Vale. We will get her. You'll be free of your curse."

"I know." Ozpin stayed firm. "But all the searches across Remnant mean nothing to someone who could be hiding in a cabin in the woods. It could be years before she is found. And all the while, the Grimm will activate again." He gave a soft sad smile. "But we do know how to draw her out."

"No," Oscar whispered.

"Fire and filth, no," Qrow grunted. "You won't be bait! Who knows what that white witch bitch might do-"

"She doesn't want me known. She doesn't want me with power. She doesn't want me with influence. She wants me in isolation and misery. Some vagabond in an alley that none would acknowledge." Ozpin fingered his teacup, tapping it continuously before tightening his grip. "She mentioned my papers from when I taught at the university. She mentioned my discovery of patterns. She mentioned my article against the anti-soothsaying sentiment and how it reverberated across the countries. That I had a 'general wrapped around my finger'." Ozpin's lips thinned and his grip on his teacup was white-knuckled before he took a breath to relax.

"All the more reason for you to not be at the negotiation," Qrow yelled back. He could still see Oz in a pool of his own blood, at the base of the sairs. He could still see Oz prone on a cot in Pietro's room. He could still see Oz unconscious at the hospital. He could still see Oz rail thin and unable to walk. He never wanted to see that again. "Brother of Dark, do you want your curse to activate?"

"Not particularly," Ozpin said softly. "I want my life back."

"But you're talking about putting it at risk! You're making yourself bait!"

Ozpin levered himself up to standing. "Yes," he said. "I am. If I want to grow old with you, as I do, then Salem needs to be found. If I want to watch Oscar graduate and become the next great soothsayer, Salem needs to be dealt with. Before the Grimm activates again."

"No," Qrow repeated, standing as well.

Ozpin's face remained calm, but he shut his eyes, holding back the sadness. "I see." He turned to his son. "Come, Oscar. We need to get to work."

"Oz-"

"I had wished to have this as a discussion," Ozpin said softly, looking over his shoulder. "To see how to make it work. I was not seeking to be summarily dismissed."

That night, Qrow slept in his own mattress, cold against the autumn chill, among other things.

The day at the office was tense for Oscar. Ozpin had said at breakfast, had suggested… Oz had stated he wanted to lure out his sister.

All Oscar could think of was finding Ozpin bleeding in the stairwell. All that time in the hospital. The fever, the delirium, the weakness, and it brought up everything with Ironwood. Someone Ozpin wanted to deal with.

Oscar didn't understand. Qrow had been angry, they had argued, and now they were in the office. Ozpin didn't speak about it. He was still the Professor, and as Oscar had predicted, a lot of walk-ins came, asking for a reading. Both he and Ozpin alternated on who was at the reader, both with a hand on the other's shoulder to observe. The readings themselves were fine. Typical of a day. Even though Oscar hadn't been doing readings long, had spent a good portion of the last year not reading due to either healing or refusing Ironwood, it felt like it came naturally.

For a brief moment, during their last reading, Oscar felt a bubble of happiness over what had once been so arduous when he'd started, and with that hand on his shoulder, he felt Ozpin's glowing pride in him. For a brief flash, Oscar saw a different pattern, one different than what was forming on the reader, blinding, complicated, awe-inspiring-

"Focus, Mr. Pine."

Oscar shook it off and finished the reading.

Once the client was gone, Ozpin sat at the desk in the office and Oscar sat in front of it, both tired after how many walk-ins they'd had.

"... I don't wish to frighten you," Ozpin said softly.

"Professor?"

"I… I've lived under this Grimm for over twenty years now. More than half my life. It has been a burden that has weighed me down. After my first bout of backbreaker…" Ozpin shook his head and looked right into Oscar's eyes. "Backbreaker is a permanent part of my life. It will never go away, and I can live around it. It limits but does not confine me. But the Grimm…"

Oscar looked down. "The Grimm will kill you."

Ozpin sighed. "You've seen the coils. It gets tighter and tighter. Nothing about the Grimm mandates my death. I'd wager Salem would love to see me suffer in isolation and misery for years. But I'm not isolated. I'm not miserable. The state of the world is tense, I worry every day. But I am choosing to remember the good in my life and cherish it."

"The Grimm will activate sooner," Oscar said softly. "Because you aren't isolated and alone, because you're looking for happiness."

"That is my fear."

Oscar couldn't help but remember the previous autumn. He couldn't help but remember the fall. He couldn't help but remember the winter.

"I don't know if I can take you facing down a recurrence of the Grimm," he said softly. "You almost died. Broken arm, broken leg, broken head, backbreaker, fever, being used by James. I can't lose you… Dad."

Ozpin's smile was gentle, humble, and sad. "Nor I you, son. I would simply like to choose when to activate the Grimm. Choose to prepare however I can and make sure none of my loved ones are hurt, but that all of you are there to help me. That is what I had wished to discuss this morning. How to do all this safely."

Oscar looked down at his hands. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I understand what you're saying, I agree we have to do something… But…"

But….

"All I ask is for you to consider. If you have a better idea…"

Oscar scrubbed at his eyes. Because that was the problem. What could possibly be a better idea?

"I don't want you to see James," he said. "I don't want to see James ever again. I want to ask the sands what to do…"

"Readings don't work that way," Ozpin sadly agreed. "We are too close for anything outside of a self-reflection reading. I'd have said the same for Qrow and I, but now…"

Isolation and Misery. Was this an activation of the Grimm or recurring aftershocks of the prior activation? Oscar shook his head. Thinking like that would lead to a spiral similar to how he felt up at the palace. His own isolation and misery.

Throat clogged, all Oscar could say was, "I'll think about it."

The weather was almost cool when Oscar and Ozpin came home. Qrow had muttered about some last minute things to do with the birds, and Ozpin had nodded agreeably like everything was fine. Oscar watched his face change on the street, and his eyes drifted. He hadn't brought up his idea to go up the mountain to negotiate with James in order to draw out the soothmaker, and Oscar hadn't decided how he felt about it yet. His father sighed but shook it off, patting Oscar's back and smiling, choosing to be happy.

Oscar left his father to go upstairs as he checked the back garden. The peppers were just about ready for a new round of harvesting, and some cabbages were looking almost ready, and it was time to check the carrots. He cleared the gate and leaned his cane against it, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work. The sun was starting to set early - the shadows were getting long when he was done, and he ran across the former soldier, Ren, in the stairwell on his way up.

"Did I miss a chance to get some peppers?" he asked.

"No, I don't mind. Let's head back out."

He led Ren to the garden and let him in, the man moving to the back and picking two peppers, ringing one of them and listening to the placenta jingle inside. "Nora loves peppers," he said with a smile, "Jaune thinks they're too spicy but he puts up with them for her."

"You sound like good friends," Oscar said, leaning back on the fence of the garden. "How long have you been together?"

Ren smirked. "Which one?" he said. "Nora and I have been together since forever. I don't think I really remember life without her."

"You grew up together?"

"Yes. She was an orphan in the village, mother left her overnight the elders said, and we adopted her. My parents died in a bandit attack less than a year later, and from then on it was just the two of us."

Oscar grunted, thinking of his aunt. "It must have been tough," he said. "When my aunt died I wasn't sure what was going to happen to me. No one in the village had space to take me in, and they scrounged up enough money to send me to a city orphanage."

Ren nodded. "A step-cousin's grandfather took us in," he said. "They found space in the stables for us to sleep, and by winter they had figured out how to bring us into the house. How long were you in the orphanage?"

"Less than a year," Oscar said. "The professor found me pretty fast."

"That's good," Ren said. "Now, Jaune, he's a different story entirely. I don't know how he met Nora, but they were camped out on the other side of the mountain with the revolutionaries over the winter, I think. Then all of a sudden Nora was here, at my post. Jaune, I met after the Battle of Haven."

"I see," Oscar said, looking down. "How's he doing?" he asked.

Ren paused, letting the question breath, before he took a deep breath. "One of the papers is printing articles on soothsayers," he said. "He's reading them religiously."

"... really?" Oscar asked, looking up, surprised.

"Yeah. The girl Pyrrha, she was a soothsayer, and he says he's learning a lot about her by reading the articles."

Oscar frowned, uncertain if he should say something as they walked back to the apartment, up the ramp and into the stairwell.

The next morning Qrow didn't follow them downstairs, Ozpin quiet. Nora, however, the redhead, came down at the same time, and they shared their walk.

"... And once we were on the north side of the mountains we found a bunch of people who wanted access to Haven but weren't allowed in - and not because of the storms, the thaw had basically happened by then. Jaune was one of them, he was trying to get in to see his girlfriend, Pyrrha. They were Touching Mouths and he hadn't heard from her for forever and he was desperate to know what she was doing. Then I found that crow and got into the city, and Jaune volunteered to be in one of the teams that snuck in - we met at a rendezvous and I was really surprised! He's been tagging along ever since."

"He sounds like an upstanding gentleman," Ozpin said lightly. Oscar could tell his voice was far away, off with his mind somewhere.

"Yeah," Nora said brightly. "Though sometimes he's even dumber than me and I'm a right idiot. For someone who can read so well he doesn't always think real well and I didn't even know that was possible. As soon as he hears his girlfriend's name poof!" she made a grand gesture with her hand, "Off he goes."

"I noticed," Oscar said, leaning on his cane as he thought about that day.

"Oh, don't worry, he's all properly trained now and he won't do it again. Those soothsayer articles have really been helping, too. He's read a few of them out loud to me, they sound really interesting. I still have that reading you gave me, farm boy, it really helped me out when Ren decided to join the army."

"I'm glad," Oscar said softly, feeling stronger again. "Now, was this before or after all the…" he cut himself off, realizing he was about to ask a personal question.

Nora didn't seem to notice, a light bounce in her step. "Oh, it was after. Got a whipping for telling the mayor he couldn't get blood from a stone. Told him to shove it when he was done and he told them to whip me until I didn't have any skin left. I was laid up for over a season, and Ren was beside himself. He thought we were still kids and we couldn't be trusted to make decisions. So he made his decision and I made mine."

"That was very brave of you, Miss Valkyrie," Oz said, "and I'm sorry you had to go through it."

"I'd do it again," Nora said brightly, before her face finally fell. "Not the whipping part, I mean. Just…"

"I understand. That is a testament to your character, and something I'm sure Mr. Ren values greatly. You remember our building of course."

"Oh, yeah! Well, I'm still a burrough away from work. I'll see you later!"

There were four new clients who wanted to try regular readings, and that left the morning very busy as they went over pricing for repeat clients, payment, invoices, and how to schedule them into the week that was convenient for everyone involved. After that were two walk-ins, and they had just enough time to open up their lunches. Rumor from Mr. Lionheart was that he'd finally found someone for the tavern downstairs. Ozpin sent their crow up with an invitation to Qrow, but he didn't come down.

His father sighed, and Oscar wasn't sure what to do.

There was only one client in the afternoon, and once that was done the pair of them sat down at the reader.

"Can I ask a question?" Oscar asked.

"Certainly."

He really wanted to ask about Qrow, but they were at work. He wanted to ask about Jaune, but that was only tangentially related. Frowning, he asked instead, "There was a pattern I didn't know. Two, actually, but in the workhouse Pyrrha and I were able to sort of figure one out. She said I had discovered new patterns."

"Really?" Ozpin said, straightening. "What do you mean?"

"Well, after you… after you fell, Qrow asked me some questions. To figure out what to do. He asked what happened to you, and the patterns talked a lot about Salem." He watched his father wince at the name, but like Qrow Oscar didn't want to refer to her as Ozpin's sister. She wasn't worthy of the title. "One part of the pattern referenced location, but I didn't recognize it. I showed it to Pyrrha, and she didn't either. Neither did Master Amber. I never got to learn what it meant."

His father's eyes were bright with thought, a finger tapping his cane. "Do you have a copy of the pattern?" he asked.

Oscar drew it from memory on paper, handing it over to Ozpin.

"I don't immediately recognize it," he said after several minutes of consideration. "I see what you mean about location. We'll ask the sands; place your hand on the fulcrum. You may hold my hand if you wish, it helps with accuracy."

Oscar smiled to hear the well-rehearsed line, and he took his master's hand. "What does this pattern mean?" he asked, and he opened his magic just as Oz did.

The original pattern was traced out, and like his attempted interpretation with Pyrrha the same patterns appeared: the symbol for location took up almost half the sands, but the pattern for it was made up with the extremely rare soothmaker pattern, deception, lie, anger, bitterness, mask, hidden, sand-reading. Oscar started to feel a different pattern, brighter, more complicated, beautifully intricate.

"Oscar," his father said, pulling his focus. Oscar lifted his hand, Oz doing the same, as he watched his teacher study the sands.

"I can see why you and Miss Pyrrha had difficulty," he said. "Can you read all the smaller patterns?"

"Pyrrha couldn't. I think I see all of them, but I don't understand how they're arranged. They're even tighter than the pattern for making Grimm."

Oz's eyes snapped up. "The pattern for making…?"

"That was the second one I saw from Qrow's questions," Oscar said, making a copy of it again from memory. "Pyrrha and I did a reading on it and it gave us this." He made the other pattern. "The isolation and misery gave it away. This is the pattern for making a Grimm, as far as we can tell."

Ozpin studied the patterns, eyes flicking from the two paper readings to the sands, tinted glasses tipping down his nose slightly.

"Not even done with your apprenticeship," he muttered, shaking his head with a smile. "I suspect you will put me to shame when you come into your own."

Oscar privately doubted that; there was still so much to learn.

"I will study these more later," Ozpin said. "For this pattern and its intricacies, experience more than anything else lends me to understand the reading. The location of the patterns and where they fall in the larger pattern for location give us the hints, and your discovery of the making Grimm pattern cinches it. Look here," he said, handing over the explanation reading. "See where isolation and misery are located? Those are the activation triggers for the Grimm. Now look at the patterns for mask and hidden: they are in the same relative location. These are triggers. Moreover, the link to soothmaker and deception is another clue. Between that and the triggers, what this means now becomes clear: she has made a Grimm to hide her location."

Oscar gaped, tracing his eyes over the pattern and seeing what Oz had pointed out. "Grimm can do that?"

"Barring any other thesis, that is my assumption," Ozpin said, looking up. "So few Grimm are even recorded, very little is known about them. If she has been making for so many years as we believe, she has had a lot of time to learn just what she can do with them."

"That's… that's horrifying," Oscar said, wide-eyed. "How do we find her, then? Qrow and the women, they've been looking for a year."

"It looks like she won't be found," Ozpin said, reaching out and hovering a finger over the pattern for bitterness. "This increases my desire to step into the public sphere and draw her out. She quite literally won't be found otherwise, and I would very much like to stop her before the Grimm finally kills me."

Oscar winced, shrinking down at the casual tone Ozpin used for his upcoming death.

"I'm sorry, Oscar," his father said quickly, reaching across the table and touching his hand. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know," he replied, staring down at his hands. "I just… I don't want to lose you."

"... and I don't want to go," Oz said, his voice soft but intense. Oscar looked up and saw bright eyes, glassy with emotion. "I don't know how else I can stay with you. She has to be dealt with before…"

Oscar nodded, and he took the hand Oz was touching and held his.

"You… You can do it," he said softly. "I don't want you on the negotiation table. I don't want you talking to the general. But… I want you here, more. If that draws her out…"

"I understand," Ozpin said. He leveraged himself up, and Oscar stood as well, giving him better access to hug and be hugged, both of them squeezed very tight.

Much later, Oscar tried to distract himself by asking another question. "The other day, when I was doing a reading. The sand basin, it was making the reading, but I was starting to see a… a different reading. It happened again just now, with the interpretation reading."

Ozpin frowned for a moment, fingering his cane. "What kind of reading?" he asked.

"The pattern was…" Oscar frowned, trying to find the right words to describe what he sensed. What he saw. "... Bright? Complicated, more complicated than anything I ever saw or studied, it spread out and out and out…"

Ozpin was wide eyed, lips a thin line, and he looked like he did when Oscar had had his first intuition, his first vision. Oscar's description trailed off, and he watched his father run a hand through his silverwhite hair. He hummed, high in his throat, and leaned back in his chair.

"I always thought I imagined it," he muttered, before saying something in Valean Oscar didn't understand. "I've seen that pattern before," he said, voice soft. "Grander and more detailed than anything a reader can produce, too much to copy down on mere paper."

"Yes, yes! That's exactly right!"

"I saw that pattern when I was training," Ozpin said, running a finger down his cheek. "It was my first time doing a real reading, my master had asked a question about one of his advisors and my attention just… drifted. That was my first apprentice nosebleed - my mind kept trying to read the pattern and I couldn't. It took a long time to control my magic enough that I didn't wander that far into a reading, a long time to control my thoughts enough to stay focused on the client. During the backbreaker, I remember seeing it again, but I thought it was just a fever dream, delusion. It wasn't until recently that I even realized my magic was open during the fever."

"Then… is it something important?" Oscar asked.

Ozpin shook his head. "I only have surmises," he said. "Nothing I've ever read ever said anything about glowing, awe-inspiring patterns. Even my master did not know what I was talking about, and he had nearly as much magic as I, he said. I always thought…" He looked up, and he shrugged. "I always thought I was simply carried away, a wayward apprentice lost in the thought of magic and patterns and imagining grandiose designs of the gods."

Oscar froze, staring. Gods…? "Do you think…?"

"It's only a guess - and it's worth repeating, we do not tread the gods' domain. We don't know the consequence of doing so."

Oscar nodded fervently, clamping down on his wonder at such an idea. "Do all soothsayers…?"

"No," Ozpin said quite firmly. "If I were to surmise, the two of us have a great swell of magic in us."

Oscar nodded, humming slightly as he tried to process: the gods' patterns…!

Author's Notes: Lots of ground covered, but also not. Oz and Qrow have their first real fight - they are different people after all and will have different opinions on something as minor as, oh, keeping Oz alive and dealing with Salem. The fight won't last long - we're running out of chapters - but it's healthy for their relationship.

Also a few small bits for Ren and Nora - again, we don't have space in the fic for everything but we want to make it feel like there are entire lives behind the page. Also Jaune, more on him very soon.

Next chapter: Resolving a Fight and Finding a Pattern