Chapter Thirty-Five
He wasn't able to do anything productive for the rest of the day, alternating between bewildered and terrified that he had wandered somewhere so sacred and hoping he hadn't somehow made the Brothers put a Grimm on him. His body hummed with energy, and he had to clamp it down for fear of activating his magic. Ozpin had to take him through five rapid-fire training readings to burn through his energy, and he was vaguely numb by the end of it.
Qrow… was there to walk them home, but he didn't say two words. Ozpin didn't say anything either, eyes downcast, and the world finally righted itself in Oscar's mind as he watched his father struggle to communicate to someone who was supposed to Touch his Mouth. The evening papers were out, one of the paper girls offering one to Ozpin who bought it upon seeing it was the next article from Robyn.
The Heroic Deeds of Pyrrha Nikos
"Do you want to read this?" Ozpin asked, his voice sensitive.
Oscar shook his head. "I already know what it says," he said softly.
Ozpin was scanning, eyes moving up and down. He had bought every article Robyn had printed, pressing them gently into a file on their bookshelf. "She has a strong voice," he said after several moments. "She has been skeptically fair for the entire series, but this one shows her opinion distinctly - perhaps because this isn't about soothsaying specifically but about the conditions of the sayers up at the palace and what the winter did to them. Human affairs, I notice, make her take ire."
Qrow snorted. "That's the nice way of putting it. Did she swear at all?"
"... No," Oz said. "I'll confess to being rather surprised. She did not curb her language at all during that interview. I note she does not reference Oscar or Operative Schnee, I assume to protect them."
"That's like her," Qrow said, voice low. "On the streets you protect your own."
Ozpin opened his mouth to reply, but thought better of it, and Oscar decided to dart ahead. If they were going to talk he wanted to give them space. Putting on speed tended to pull at his side, but other than leaning on the cane for a few steps after slowing down he was fine. He moved around back to check the garden again, then it was up to the roof for the greenhouse. Ruby waved before ducking into the aviary, and Oscar unlocked the greenhouse to enter.
Most of the greenhouse had been given over to vegetables this year - the tenants of the building desperate for food and not understanding of the herbs he had been carefully tending. He had been able to salvage a lot, but he had only a third of the space for them. Leaning his cane by the door he walked up and down the tables and benches, deciding which plants needed watering and picking at dead leaves. Harvest would officially start next week, and he wanted to be ready.
"Hey."
Oscar stiffened, straightening and turning to see the tall form of Jaune in the frame of the greenhouse door. Oscar jolted to his feet and stepped back.
"No, wait," Jaune said, lifting a hand. "Don't - well, I guess I don't blame you, but I'm not mad. You don't have to… uh…"
Oscar said nothing, waited, eying his cane by the door, wondering what was going to happen.
"Look," Jaune said, and Oscar noticed there was a paper in his hand, Robyn's paper. "I just wanted to say… I mean, maybe you don't want to hear this - not that I'd blame you! I mean, I didn't react very well when you told me… but that doesn't matter now. I mean, it does but not like…" Jaune growled, low in his throat, and shook his head, running his free hand through his blond hair.
"I want to say I'm sorry," he said, looking up. "For what I did, for what I said, for all of it."
Oscar waited, wide eyed.
"I mean - it's not an excuse but I hadn't heard from Pyrrha in over a year. Her mom told me about seeing her for midwinter, but she never sent word to me and then to hear… I didn't know a lot about soothers - I mean soothsayers - Pyrrha tried more than once to explain it but it never really stuck. I was upset. Upset, and angry, and so strung out over not seeing her, and I didn't want to believe it. But you…"
Jaune's words ran out, and he worried his hands, paper slowly flipping in half.
"You've been through a lot," he said finally. "All the soothsayers have, and I didn't really see it. And I'm sorry."
"It's…" Oscar froze, catching himself talking. He blinked, looking down and thinking carefully about his words. "It's okay," he said. "I… I wasn't allowed to see my father, up there in the palace. It hurt me, too. I understand why you were so upset. You said you were Touching Mouths?"
"Yeah…"
Oscar nodded. "I understand. It's okay."
Jaune's eyes were glassy, and he sniffled and nodded. "I, uh," he tried to say, voice watery. "I went to a soothsayer once. Sort of. Some friends wanted to see what it was like to get a reading. The master took my friend and I talked to the apprentice. We… well. We weren't very respectful. I will be next time, if I ever get a reading."
Oscar nodded. "Good," he said softly.
"Jaune! There you are! I swear if the cute farm boy is in there… he is! You better not have said anything or I swear on the Light Brother's fye I'll-"
"No, no!" Oscar said quickly, getting Nora's attention. "It was fine, I promise. We… we talked. It was good. It was fine."
Nora glared, eyes darting back and forth between Oscar and Jaune, before nodding her head and crossing her arms. "In that case it's about time!" she said with a stout nod. "The things you two put me through… Come here, Jaune, Marrow found some more stuff to sort through, let's get something good before Qrow and his nieces snatch up the best pieces!"
Ozpin studied Oscar's readings, all of them. He sat at his desk, all the papers spread out, frowning at them as Oscar did filework in the front room.
Two new patterns.
Two new patterns! Not even three years into his apprenticeship. His beloved son continued to surprise him, and pride threatened to burst out of him. It took days to process how talented his son was and really read the readings, take in the curves and swirls and designs. Oscar and his lost friend Pyrrha were both apprentices; there was a lack of experience in readings - particularly with Oscar, that hindered their interpretations of the patterns. Ozpin had almost three decades experience as a soothsayer, and something kept drawing his eyes to the pattern that described the Grimm Sa-his sister had made to hide herself. He couldn't yet put his finger on it. The triggers had been obvious enough, well, obvious to him as he had studied Grimm ever since one had appeared in the sands, but…
The list of patterns that made up the location of his sister were small compared to other pattern's he'd given and read: location, soothmaker, deception, lie, anger, bitterness, mask, hidden, sand-reading. Mask and hidden were triggers, yes, soothmaker and deception linked together made sense. Anger, bitterness, those were certainly his sister's emotions that night. Individually, the pieces all made sense, all of them making up the larger pattern of location made sense, but there was something else, something under all the obvious, and Ozpin stared, trying to piece it together.
Was it the angles of the smaller patterns, or how the fulcrum linked them together? Was it their placement relative to each other? He held his hand over the paper, opening his magic to grant him some insight.
For so few patterns there was a density to the reading that pulled at Ozpin, and he pushed, wanting to understand: what was he missing? His eyes drew to anger and bitterness, the thick swirls of emphasis, the artful link betwee-
Something shifted, right at the edges of Ozpin's perception, and he leaned in, closing the distance to that link, sensing… something. There was the curious sensation of telescoping, and a brightness to his sight, and there, in the ink, in the connection between the two, was another pattern: brothers.
Brothers? What brothers? They were dead of the pox, over thirty years ago. They had no blood family, and the castle raised them communally per Valean tradition. Unless… the Brothers?
"Oz?"
He closed his magic and realized how much he had used. He turned and Oscar stiffened. "You're pale," he said. "What happened?"
"I was studying your patterns," Ozpin said, rubbing at his forehead. "I was hoping for some insight."
"... did you have a vision?" Oscar asked.
"No…" Ozpin said slowly. "I wouldn't label it as a vision, but it was stronger than an insight. There is another pattern here, one almost too small to see."
Oscar frown. "Really?" he asked, moving up.
Ozpin pointed to the link between anger and bitterness. "I don't know if it's a part of the copying process or if it was really there in the reading, but just now I saw the pattern for brothers."
"... Brothers?" Oscar said, leaning over. "I don't see it - and I'm still not good enough at copying to know if I caught it."
"I agree," Ozpin said. "Brothers is a curious pattern to have here, given I'm her singular brother now. When is our next client? We could ask the sands."
"Barring walk-ins, our next client is after lunch," Oscar said.
"Good. Let's move to the reader."
"Are you sure? You're still a little pale…"
"Better to use the reader then," Ozpin said with a smile.
He was pushing of course, and Oscar was smart enough to know that. Ozpin knew he was running out of time: choosing to be happy would trigger the Grimm faster, and the last time it triggered he was so close to death he had lost two seasons. He knew once he had maize for Qrow… The Grimm would activate almost immediately, and he wanted - needed - to draw out Salem before the Grimm reared its head. And before that he had to know everything he could about her.
Ozpin sat in the client's chair, placing his hand on the reader and reaching out for Oscar's as his son did the same. "Was the pattern for brothers in this design?" he asked, opening up his magic to watch Oscar work. The pendulum moved gently into a soft affirmative.
"But why?" Oscar asked, frowning at the basin.
"We'll ask the sands that, too," Ozpin said. "You ask the question, but keep your magic open. I want both of us to understand what is going on here."
"Okay," Oscar said, shifting his weight. "Why is the pattern for brothers in this pattern?"
Ozpin opened his magic and let the basin do its work. He didn't see much at first, the pendulum didn't move and he didn't sense much in the sands. Usually that was a sign of a client with low magic but he knew that was impossible. He frowned, pushing a little more of his magic into the basin, and he sensed Oscar doing the same. Still, the fulcrum did not move. Then, all at once, there was a jerking motion - not from the reader but somewhere deep inside him, at his heart. Oscar made a small noise but Ozpin could barely hear it: there was darkness and light, an endless black void but also an infinite expanse of gold. And there it was, The Pattern.
It glowed, ever shifting, ever changing, but at the same time somehow immutable. It expanded out and out and out, beyond Ozpin's sense of comprehension, beyond time, beyond life, beyond death, beyond everything he had ever known. Something pulled at him, pulling him closer and closer to the pattern, narrowing his focus and his attention, smaller and smaller and smaller. Size became irrelevant, tiny details expanding out beyond the scope of comprehension, and then the new small things grew, and the new small things grew, until at last it stopped.
And there, in The Pattern, was the Soothmaker, the pattern swirling and growing, erasing other patterns, eating the beauty Ozpin was seeing and breaking connections, breaking patterns, breaking people. He saw the pattern for justice, balance, meeting, patterns for names but also somehow their entire lives, so many patterns swirling and converging and meeting and melding and changing and turning and…
"Hey, Oz, Ruby just sent a crow saying you had a delivery and-what the fye and filth?"
Ozpin stared, overwhelmed, as he saw what he needed to do, the role Oscar would play, how everything had led up to this moment, why it all had to be…
Someone grabbed at his shoulder and all at once he jerked back to his chair, sucking in a breath and barely aware of watching Oscar's glowing eyes roll back in his head as he tipped over and fell to the floor, Ozpin following suit.
"... oz… Oz!"
His head was absolutely splitting, and he moaned, trying to tune out the noise.
"It's okay, Oz, we've got you."
Qrow…?
He risked opening his eyes, the light blinding and sending skittering throbs of pain over his skull. His focus telescoped and he almost disappeared again, but a cool hand touched his cheek and he remembered he had opened his eyes for Qrow. He tried again, and saw warm red eyes fill his vision, tight with worry.
"I'm fine…" he started to say, but it sounded distant and dull to his own ears.
"Dark Brother's filth you're not fine," Qrow cursed, that cool hand running through his scalp and that felt like heaven. He hummed, a little stronger in his voice, and finally realized he smelled blood.
"Apprentice nosebleed," he groaned, reaching up to rub his temples. "How is Oscar?"
"Coming around," said a different voice. Leo.
Ozpin motioned to get up, and Qrow helped him swing into a sitting position. The rapid change in elevation played hell with his migraine, and he held his temples for several seconds, waiting for the throbbing to stop. He pulled a handkerchief out of his inner pocket, rubbing at his nose. The blood stain that came back was enormous.
"I must look quite the sight," he muttered, lifting his head to look at his beloved. "I'm sorry if I scared you."
"If, he says," Qrow muttered, shaking his head. Ozpin could focus enough to look beyond the crowmaster, seeing Oscar was also sitting up, also holding his head. There was a streak of red running from his nose up to his temples, indicating he had been on his back. The stain was bright red, same as the blood on Ozpin's kerchief. Their eyes met and Ozpin nodded that he was okay, Oscar doing the same.
Leo, kneeling by Oscar, leaned back and sighed. "I swear," he said, "You two. I'm going to put some tea on. My heart can't take another scare like that." His friend got up and moved to the front room.
Ozpin sat for several minutes, his bad leg out, Qrow at one side and Oscar sitting by his feet. "Clearly we're not doing that again," he said lightly. Oscar snorted.
"And what exactly was that?" Qrow grumbled, leaning forward. "I came in and the whole damn reader was glowing."
Ozpin started, so did Oscar. "What?" he asked.
"Don't make me repeat myself," Qrow said, voice low. "The whole filthy reader was glowing, and the only thing rivaling it was both of your eyes."
"... the basin?" Oscar asked, incredulous, turning to the reader.
Ozpin took a few minutes to leverage himself up, a little shaky and uncertain on his feet, but when he reached out and placed a hand on the basin he felt it. "Oscar," he said.
His son followed suit, and his eyes widened. "I feel it, too," he said. "It's fully charged. More than fully charged."
"Amazing," Ozpin muttered. "I would never have thought… Did you see what I saw?"
"The reading? Yes. Everything. But… nothing's in the sands."
Ozpin hummed. "How could it be? Something that grandiose, that ephemeral. Even if it were possible to copy it down I doubt that we should."
"Yeah," Oscar agreed, voice a little shaky.
"Do either of you want to let us in on the secret?" Qrow demanded, also standing. Leo came in motioning tea was ready, and they moved to the front room, Ozpin and Oscar at the desk and Qrow and Leo in front of it.
Ozpin frowned, trying to determine how to even describe what had transpired. "... We did a reading."
"I know that, you son of a bitch," Qrow growled. "But what kind of filthy reading makes all the glowy stuff happen and knock you two out?"
"It wasn't filthy," Oscar said softly, looking at the reading room, where the empty basin sat. "It was… beautiful."
"Agreed," Ozpin said. "There are no words… not to describe what happened other than to say we did a reading. We saw… I'm still trying to process what we saw. I don't know how to explain it."
Qrow crossed his arms, tea untouched, scowling.
Ozpin held in a sigh.
Qrow couldn't quite identify everything that was roiling around inside of him, but he did know that he wasn't happy with things. Oz wanted to be part of the negotiations. That would mean seeing the bastard general again. The man who had apparently used Oz while he was unconscious and delirious. To draw out the white witch bitch.
There were so many parts of that that Qrow designated with a giant "NO!" instinctually.
His feelings just stirred into a maelstrom if he even thought about it. The fact that Oz had even thought it was an option…. Dark Brother's filth, why?
But Qrow was tired of waking up alone. Granted, he didn't exactly stay over every night, he didn't want the white witch bitch to know about him, but he considered the apartment safe enough that he was used to sleeping there. Ozpin hadn't even questioned anything, just made room in the armoire for him.
Qrow shook his head.
Ruby had sent word that there was a delivery for Oz, and Qrow knew he could still talk to the man. They'd had simple, safe conversations since Qrow had gotten so furious. Enough for Qrow to know he still loved Oz and desired him. But risking Oz?
Just… No.
He'd entered the office, saw it empty, and headed back to the reading room. To his eyes, everything looked normal. But when he opened the door, he had to block his eyes at all the light just pouring out of the reading table, which was a candle compared to Oz and Oscar's eyes. Or how bright the blood dripping from their noses was.
Nothing got their attention until Qrow put a hand on Ozpin's shoulder. Whatever was happening stopped, and both of them passed out. Neither came to, and Qrow rushed up to get Leo. They weren't out much longer and everything the two of them said after they woke up was utter magical nonsense.
"So," Leo said skeptically, "the two of you did a reading and the reading just… knocked both of you unconscious?"
Oscar shook his head. "No… Yes… Sort of…"
"We saw a pattern never before seen in all of history," Oz said, looking way too filthy pale to be so energetic and enthusiastic. He looked to Qrow with bright eyes. "I truly don't have the words for it. It was stunning."
"Sands were blank, Oz," Qrow grumbled.
Oscar rubbed at his forehead, also looking pale. "I'm not surprised. I don't know if I can even copy down a piece of that. I'm not even sure I can remember a piece of that. It was all so intricate."
"I have suspicions," Oz said, looking absolutely thrilled. "If I'm right, I doubt we'd ever see anything like that again, but the fact that we could." He looked to Oscar with pride. "You will truly be the greatest sayer of your generation. Perhaps the greatest sayer of any generation."
Oscar's jaw dropped. "Uh, no, that's you!"
Ozpin was still smiling. "Oh no, it will be you."
"Ahhhhhhh, what?"
Leo interjected. "You two are going home," he said firmly, then looked to Qrow. "Would you escort these two home? They can't see clients looking like they were roughed over by muggers."
Ozpin blinked in oblivious confusion, and no matter how pissed off Qrow was about things, it was so… Oz.
"Probably for the best," Qrow said. "You don't mind me taking a half day?"
"Not at all," Leo said with a smile. "I think it's safe to say that you had a family emergency. You've done such a good job with our crows that most of the renters here are happy to not have to go anywhere else for messages."
Qrow rolled his eyes and stood.
Oscar stood, already heading to the pegs for their coats given the chilly autumn air, but Oz stood for a moment before he paled even further and sat back down.
"Oz?" Leo asked.
"Headrush," he murmured, leaning forward to hold his head. "By the brothers, I haven't had an apprentice nosebleed like that since before I was fifteen. My master insisted on red meat for dinner that night."
Qrow nodded, went to the reading room and opened the window. The crow he'd assigned to Oz for the day happily flew over and Qrow carefully wrote out a message for Ruby saying that they were going to need some fresh meat for dinner if they could manage it, and sent the crow flying.
After more tea, Oz was finally able to stand and with his coat over his bloodied shirt, he didn't look quite so bad. Oscar had already cleaned his face and simply looked tired, if also way too enthusiastic.
The walk home, Ozpin and Oscar may as well have been speaking in Valean for all that Qrow didn't understand. They talked back and forth excitedly about whatever they had seen that was "bright" and "beautiful" and "intricate" and "immutable" and "changing" and a bunch of things that made no sense.
It was a part of Oz that Qrow just never understood. Having a bitch of a sister? Qrow understood that all too well. Being hurt, Qrow understood. Even the backbreaker, Qrow may not get every nuance of it, but he'd seen enough survivors of backbreaker around the city to understand enough.
It was like Ozpin's Valean attitudes and beliefs. That community raised people, not just family. It was strange, quirky, and made Ozpin endlessly fascinating with his kindness and empathy. But it was a wide swath that Qrow didn't always get. The poems thing, that was sort of charming. Qrow's poem had been barely legible, but Ozpin had been beyond delighted with it. Qrow had thought for certain that the return poem would be flowery, complicated, maybe in Valean which he had no hope of reading, or something like that. Instead, it was written in Mistralan style, and was encased within enough drawings that Qrow understood what was written.
How did such a good man love Qrow?
Qrow didn't think he'd ever meet someone like Ozpin again. And he didn't want to lose him.
The walk back to the apartment did seem to exhaust Oz. Just going up the front steps left him huffing.
Maria wasn't at her usual post, meaning she was finally giving herself an hour for lunch. Oscar looked worriedly at Oz, before darting upstairs to open up the apartment. Qrow just offered a shoulder.
Ozpin stared at it, still energetic and enthused, in spite of his own body, before sighing.
"I probably do need the help."
Qrow chuckled softly and helped Ozpin up the stairs. Once up the flight, Ozpin swayed almost dangerously, and Qrow took the chance to finish helping him down to the apartment.
"You're going to bed, Oz," Qrow said firmly as they entered.
"But what we saw-" Ozpin said around a yawn.
"Yeah, you're going to bed."
"Hmmm. I see your point," Oz said tiredly. "I do not care for it."
Once Oz was settled, Qrow just headed to the stove to start making lunch. Oscar was sitting by the desk, already grabbing books to look through. It didn't take much to make a stir fry. He worked in comfortable quiet, though he still worried.
Why did Oz want to be in the negotiations?
Once the meal was ready, he dished out and went over to Oscar.
"Okay, kid," he said, "you need to eat."
Oscar however, didn't seem to hear him as he was slowly trying to pronounce something from the book, that was in Valean.
"Oscar, lunch."
"Hn? Oh," Oscar pulled back and rubbed at his eyes. His color looked better, but he was still paler than Qrow would like. "Thanks."
At the table, they started to eat. "Just what were you two doing?" Qrow asked.
Oscar's eyes immediately glittered in interest and enthusiasm. "We were trying to ask the sands to clarify something from the readings you and I did last autumn. And a reading I had done with Pyrrha over the winter. It was really strange, the pendulum didn't move, but there was still the Pattern. I…" Oscar shook his head. "I really don't have the words for it."
Qrow scowled. "Is that why Oz wants to go to that cursed negotiation?"
"No," Oscar said. "He's trying to protect his family."
"Fye and filth, that doesn't sound like it. It sounds like he's exposing himself."
"That's the Valean in him," Oscar said, leaning back and rubbing his eyes. "Community is such a big thing. If you don't have family, you have community."
"I get that, kid," Qrow said, setting down his bowl. "I've been to Vale to visit Tai a few times over the years. They're a strange bunch. Their writing is sounds, not pictures, they're always in everyone else's business. Tai had a weekly gathering… what's the Valean word… a potluck where everyone brought food and just… was together."
Oscar nodded. "Yeah, here in Mistrial it's all about family gatherings."
"But what does any of that have to do with sticking his neck out?" Qrow remembered the landing, the leg broken at the wrong angle, the yellow ooze with the red blood.
Oscar looked down to his bowl. "He doesn't really want to," he said quietly.
"Could have fooled me."
"We know that the Grimm over him is triggered when he's happy," Oscar said softly. "Since the winter, he's chosen to be happy. He's worried, he's scared, but he wants to be happy."
Qrow saw that too. Ozpin would sometimes seem almost desperate in a tumble with Qrow, trying to provide care and affection as much as possible as Qrow matched every move. Or small moments like snuggling up close to him, despite the heat of summer. He took every moment of happiness like a starving man who cradled it close to savor it.
"But we'll protect him," Qrow said. "That's what family does."
Oscar gave a brief, bright smile. "You know… I don't think I've ever called him 'Dad' until this past winter? And I think this is the first time you've called him family, even though you two are already Touching Lives."
"Mouths. We're Touching Mouths, kid," Qrow corrected. "Touching Lives is marriage."
Oscar gave a flat look. "Could have fooled me," he repeated.
Qrow shrugged.
"Look, my point is that we protect our family, but our definition of family is limited to blood relations." Oscar took another bite of his lunch. "For Oz… anyone can be family. Back at the orphanage I knew I was hard to place. I was too old. Prospective parents wanted someone to mold and shape. They never looked past toddlers. If I was going to be adopted, it was because someone wanted to show off some sort of savior or charity aspect of themselves. Ozpin just wanted someone to love. It was also going against the Grimm."
Qrow narrowed his eyes. "Shouldn't the curse have activated then?"
Oscar shook his head. "Ozpin's original life was to never marry or have children. He'd had a reading from his master, it's one of the readings he cherishes. The Grimm curses him to isolation and misery. Any part of his life that was like the original reading of his life activated the Grimm." Oscar looked over to the privacy screen, where Ozpin was sleeping. "He doesn't really talk about what his first bout of backbreaker was like, but…"
"It was bad," Qrow said. "You can tell by how he doesn't talk about it."
"That's when he decided to try something that wasn't part of the Grimm or part of the original plan for his life. And he got me," Oscar gave a soft smile. "I never dreamed I'd get someone willing to be a parent. An actual parent. Like Aunt Em was." He looked directly to Qrow. "Like you are."
Qrow looked at Oscar. For the first time, he noticed that Oscar was seventeen now. He wasn't the short kid who tagged along with Oz and sometimes hid behind him. Oscar was a young man.
A young man who viewed Qrow as a parent.
Qrow gulped. "When did you grow up?"
"I had two very good teachers."
Qrow doubted he did anything.
"Look," Oscar continued, "here we don't claim family easily. It has to be blood relations or through a marriage that the families arrange. Family is all. Ozpin, Vale, they agree that family is important, but family is who you say it is. That soothmaker isn't family."
"Kid, even by Mistral standards, she cut all ties long ago," Qrow said, reaching to the small of his back and the knife there. "That kind of betrayal, that's someone seeking blood."
"And family defends," Oscar nodded. "We defend Oz to keep him safe. He defends us by trying to draw her out so that his curse doesn't affect us or Mistral."
Qrow sighed. "I don't want to lose him," he said softly. "When Clover said he'd be enlisting… I said a lot of filth. I said a lot of terrible filth and left him. I left him so he couldn't leave me. Like our parents left us. Like my sister left me. And Clover still listed me as family to be informed of his passing. Even though his parents didn't approve."
"So now you're trying to leave Oz?" Oscar asked quietly.
"No. I can't." Qrow set aside his bowl and ran a hand through his graying hair. "I should have left the building. I should have gone to another borough. But I can't. Ruby and Yang are here. You're here. My crows are here. I don't want to lose him, but I can't leave him."
"No one said it has to be 'lose' or 'leave'," Oscar said. "Why can't it be 'keep' and 'live'?"
Qrow stayed quiet.
Oscar nodded and they finished their lunch.
"Since I'm home, I'll go look at the gardens," Oscar said. "I would rather read more about that Pattern, but I'm horrible at reading Valean."
Qrow gave a chuckle. "It's sounds, Oscar," he said. "Sound out the words. I remember visiting Tai when the girls were still young and I got enlisted by Summer to help them learn to read. I learned a lot that winter about how Valean's sound out their words."
"...so complicated…." Oscar muttered. "Mistralan's characters make much more sense. It's just memorization."
"That isn't so easy," Qrow said. "That's thousands of characters to memorize. That's why I can't read worth filth."
"Hm. I hadn't thought of it like that," Oscar said. "I'll head up to the roof first. I'll be back by dinner." Oscar gave Qrow a look.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll talk to him."
Oscar nodded.
Ozpin wasn't quite awake yet, and he wondered why it was light out. It was late autumn, wasn't it? The sun was rising later and later. Then the Pattern crossed his thoughts and he woke in an instant. Arms wrapped warmly around him and an afternoon fuzz nuzzled his shoulder and Ozpin's thoughts derailed again.
He turned slightly. "Qrow?"
"I'm here, Oz."
Ozpin kissed him in relief and desperation. The subsequent tumble was needy because Ozpin had missed Qrow dearly. He had wondered if he had inadvertently triggered the Grimm, triggered the Isolation that wanted him alone or the Misery at being at odds with someone he loved so much. More likely it had been aftershocks from the previous trigger, but he couldn't help but wonder. To wake up to Qrow beside him, that Qrow was even allowing the tumble and seemed just as desperate for it, relaxed something in Ozpin he didn't even know was tense.
Spent in a way that was most unlike the drain of magic from earlier in the day, Ozpin kissed the top of Qrow's head and just held him tight, afraid to say anything that might break this moment of happiness and trigger the Grimm.
Qrow shuffled up enough to kiss Ozpin on the mouth, lazy, yet tasting everything they had done.
Qrow reached up to hold Ozpin's face. "Mistralans protect family, Oz. If you're going to do something stupid, then I guess I'll just have to go with you and watch your back."
Ozpin was certain his heart was overflowing.
"I was not certain it's a good idea," he said softly, nuzzling into Qrow's warm embrace. "I'm still not certain, even seeing the Pattern. But I wanted your input. Your views matter to me."
"I wonder why they do," Qrow said, tracing a hand along Ozpin's bare back. "You've been to every country, every continent. You know all the languages, you've seen and experienced the world. All I know is Haven and the tiny island of Patch. You know more."
"But I've never had your experiences," Ozpin said. "Up until recently, I've never had to worry about finances. I've spent most of my life alone, yet you've been in relationships. You know more about the human condition than I do. I just know various cultures. I don't know the things that matter for making a relationship or family work. I lost my parents and brothers to the pox before I was ten. Any attempt I had for a lover failed until I met you. And I was so inexperienced I didn't even know you were flirting with me. I didn't even realize I'd fallen in love." He gave a soft, bitter laugh. "So oblivious…"
Qrow gave a soft chuckle. "Your head in the clouds is what I love about you. You see things I've got no clue about, and not just because of the sands."
"Hmmmmm."
The Pattern flashed in his memory, a crow standing in defense.
"If I do go to those negotiations," Ozpin said very quietly. "I want you by my side."
Qrow snuggled in close. "Your side is where I wish to be," he said softly and with a formality most unlike his usual casual airs.
A proposal. A Mistralan proposal. Without the ceremony, without the families, without any Mistralan traditions. But a Mistral proposal.
Ozpin smiled, and replied in formal Valean. "Our lives rooted will bear the greatest fruits."
Qrow laughed. "I only understood maybe two words of that."
"I'll teach you," Ozpin replied. "I know you don't care for ceremonies, but there is a Valean one for proposals…"
"Tch, why am I not surprised…."
Robyn and Blake were their only contacts to the revolutionaries. Blake introduced Ozpin to her parents: Ghira and Kali Belladonna, where he explained his concerns for the soothsayers trapped in the palace. After so many articles Robyn had printed - and the overwhelming success of the reporting on the night of blood and fire - the Belladonnas thought it was more than fair to ask after the soothsayers and bargain their release as the next phase of negotiations. Ozpin was grateful for the opportunity, and Robyn printed about the meeting and posted flyers throughout the city.
He felt nervous, his name being on so many papers and so many lips. He felt nervous talking to the Belladonnas - heads of state, Sun and Neptune as high ranking members of the revolution, the ruling council of farmers that was trying so hard to get Haven up and running again. He was next to powerful people, people of influence, and he was all too aware of how soon the Grimm would trigger.
The negotiation team was decided:
Ozpin and Oscar would represent the soothsayers. Qrow would be an assistant to help with physical needs, Ruby the crowmaster. Weiss was elected as a business representative and because she volunteered to give her sister Winter support from the other side. Blake offered to be stand-in for her parents as daughter of the Faunus Honorum, and Yang and Marrow rounded out the team as bodyguards.
The night before the first meeting Ozpin didn't sleep. Oscar dozed intermittently, clutching him for safety against his dreams, and Qrow sat in bed all night, an empty flask in his hand that he glared at to give him strength, his knife under the pillow.
"You are scared," Ozpin said softly, reaching up and caressing an arm.
Qrow looked at him, his face hard. "I don't like it," he muttered.
Ozpin sat up, Oscar instinctively curling into his lap. "I do not like this either," he said softly, allowing himself to feel his anxiety. "But you will be there, and that eases my fears."
"Don't give me that sappy filth, Oz," Qrow said, his head bending down. "It's everything I can do to stay here and not run to…" He glared at his flask.
Ozpin reached out, putting his hand over the item, gave Qrow time to turn and look him in the eye. "I love that you are staying," he said softly. "I love that it is so hard for you but still you are doing it. Did you do that for others?"
"... No," Qrow admitted, looking away. "Not even for Clover, and he came the closest. The minute I got a whiff of something going bad… It's easier to leave than to be left. The filth I said to Clover… and he still listed me as kin for notification."
"He was family."
"No," Qrow said, shaking his head. "This isn't Vale. We weren't Touching Lives. Dark Brother's filth I never did any of that. I just wanted whoever I thought was hot; screw the traditions. The traditions are stupid and meaningless anyway."
Ozpin frowned, hearing something in Qrow's voice he hadn't heard before. "Do you really believe that?" he asked. "Do you really ridicule the traditions so thoroughly when you took the time to write me a poem? A Valean tradition? Or is it that those traditions scare you, because that would mean letting someone in after so many have left you - after you have left so many?"
Qrow said nothing, glaring at the armoire.
"I wonder," Ozpin said, taking his free hand and moving it to Qrow's shoulder. "Your life on the streets - bereft of family that is so important to a Mistralan - I wonder if that has made you afraid to invite more family into your life. Your sister, your courters - sorry, your lovers - Tai and your nieces. Have you ever given all of yourself to someone?"
Qrow turned and glared at him, his wine colored eyes baleful, and Ozpin realized the truth.
"... am I the first?" he asked, leaning in.
"Shut up," Qrow said, unwilling to admit it.
Something bloomed in Ozpin's chest as he realized how much weight was in that courtship poem - how much it must have driven Qrow insane, barely literate and forcing himself to construct poetry - willing to perform a tradition, a foreign tradition, to allow Ozpin into his life. Not only was it an admission of love - backwards as their relationship had been up to that point - but an offering of vulnerability that Qrow had never given anyone else.
"I'm sorry," he said, leaning further in and lightly kissing a cheek. "I didn't realize. I truly am oblivious, aren't I?"
Qrow snorted. "It's part of your charm, you bastard."
"No, this must be corrected," Ozpin said, running a hand through his hair. "In the bureau, my side, top drawer, you will see a box."
Qrow blinked, frowning, but he got up in the predawn light and rummaged through the bureau, finding the pine box and pulling it out. He went back to bed, his feet cold from the short trip, and gave Ozpin the box.
"I was hoping to wait until our futures were more certain," he admitted, sliding open the box. "I wanted to know for certain that I would not hurt you by being near you, but you need to know this - do you know what this is?"
"No," Qrow said, examining the contents.
"This is flint maize," Ozpin said, "One of the main staples of Vale and one of the many symbols for community that we have. The seeds, we call them kernels. The light is poor but you can see how many one ear of these contain, yes? Here, feel the bumps, each one is a kernel."
"Okay, yeah. I get it. Vale and community. So what?"
"It has secondary meanings as well," Ozpin said. "Flint maize is considered more symbolic than sweet or dent or flour maize, because of the multiple colors of its kernels. It is said to represent the entire country, each kernel a member creating the kingdom. One hangs it on one's doors at harvest to signal there is food to share, that doors are open to aid for others. My master, the king of Vale, he kept maize hanging from the palace doors all year round. But also, it is a gift in courtship."
Qrow snorted. "Of course it is."
"Not the entire ear, of course," Ozpin said quickly, sensing Qrow's irritation at the description of another ceremony. "But autumn is the season of proposals as well - a match will construct rings from the kernels and the husk and silks. It's a lengthy process, the husks must be dried and twined with the silks, and kernels nested in the ring to represent how many children one plans of having. It is a symbol of inviting one's partner into their community, a proposal to - in your customs - Touch Lives."
Qrow looked at the ear of maize, frowning. Dubious.
Ozpin held his breath, reaching into the corner of the box, the half made ring, the single kernel for Oscar. "I know you are not a man of ceremony," he said, pulling at the loose silks. "I know now that letting someone that close to you is difficult. I want you to know that I'm grateful, grateful that of all your lovers you chose me. Grateful that you took the risk with someone like… someone with a Grimm over his head, lame and melancholic, desperate for connection and unable to find it for so long. I know…"
Ozpin took another breath, held it, forced himself to continue.
"I know I'll never be a good match with anyone," he admitted. "I'm oblivious to that which is right in front of me, I'm physically lame and deformed, I have no secure financial status to lift a family up as is often so important in Mistral matches. I may not even have much time…" He shook his head. "I choose to be happy, Qrow, for however long I have it. And I want that happiness to be with you for as long as you'll allow it. I want that happiness to bleed into you - as much of you as you'll allow as you guard your heart against rejection. I want you to feel as loved as you've made me feel. I want our lives to be rooted together."
Qrow was staring again, eyes wide in the growing light. The silence drew out and Ozpin kept his eyes down, afraid Qrow's own guarded heart would automatically make a rejection of the proposal.
"Damn it Oz," he heard, and he looked up just in time to see Qrow lean in, grabbing the back of his neck for a heartfelt, fiery kiss that pushed deep into Ozpin's mouth. He didn't bloom in desire, too nervous for Qrow's next sentence, but he was breathless when Qrow finally pulled apart, and as the dawn broke he saw glassy, emotional eyes. "Fye and filth," his lover cursed, leaning in for access to Ozpin's neck, planting an open mouthed, aggressive kiss.
Oscar started to stir, pulling out of his doze, and Ozpin patted his shoulder, uncertain what would happen next when Qrow pulled back a second time.
"You and your Brothers-damned Valean ceremonies," he muttered, shaking his head. "Do you have any filthy idea who stupidly sappy that is? Here the proposal is the families announcing the match in the papers - there's no ring or gift or handmade anything. The families finally agree the match is good, they announce the date of the marriage, and poof, you're finally Touching Mouths. This," he said, yanking the half made ring out of his hand. "This. You Valeans get to just… just… pick whoever you want instead of the families picking for you. And for some filthy reason you picked…"
"Of course," Ozpin said, Oscar stretching and slowly sitting up. "Even ignoring that no one else would have me, you have done everything a partner could be expected to do and more. Even when you were still lost in a bottle you slept out there at our door to ensure that I was well because you thought me in a poor mood. You have always looked after me even when I did not realize you were doing it, you tolerated my utter ignorance of your advances, you went out of your way to protect both my son and myself from the general. The reader showed me just how much last winter-"
Qrow leaned in and kissed him again, pressing him back and making Oscar wriggle to a different corner of the bed, watching the entire exchange with wide, hazel eyes.
"Stop doing that," Qrow said, his voice rougher, darker. "Stop making me into something I'm not. I'm a piece of filth, Oz. I'm not worth anything to anybody except to the girls. Everyone I ever had left me - even Clover. Even you - you fell down those stairs and I couldn't… I didn't…" He shook his head, scrubbing at his face. "That wasn't fair," he growled. "I thought for sure… And it could still happen, you son of a bitch! You could still…!"
"But it wouldn't be his choice," Oscar said softly from the corner. "He wouldn't be leaving, he would be taken."
"Yes," Ozpin said, reaching out and touching his lover's shoulder. "Please know that: I don't want to go. Since our first… since grinding herbs… since I came back from the fever again I have decided to pursue my happiness. I am not retreating, I have not moved elsewhere or closed our relationship. Beloved, I-"
"I'm not anyone's beloved Oz!" Qrow growled. "I don't deserve it!"
Ozpin leaned in, squeezing the shoulder. "But you are mine," he said softly.
Qrow's gaze flicked to his son. "Disappear," he said in a low voice.
"Happily," Oscar said, scrambling out of bed and jumping into pants and grabbing his linen shirt, picking up his cane and all but leaping out of the apartment. "Happy engagement!" he said in Valean, and Ozpin turned bright red to hear his son realize what was about to happen.
Qrow captured his mouth again, hands on either side of his neck, and pressed him against the bed. "Brothers' fye and filth," he cursed, "I want to give you everything you deserve, and you deserve so much…"
"I require very little," Ozpin said, breathless with the ferocity Qrow was showing him. "I just want-"
"Shut up and say something in Valean," Qrow said. "I dare you to fire me up more than I already am."
"... As you wish, beloved."
Author's Notes: aaaaaaaaaawwwwwww sweet ending.
Oookay, so a lot happened. We've been sitting on The Pattern for a while, picture Ant-Man shrinking down and down and down in his move to get an idea of what The Pattern looks like as the Brother's zoom Oz and Oscar to what they need to see. It makes the sand patterns look tiny in comparison, the idea that humans can capture only small pieces of The Pattern was really interesting to us, and this was the manifestation.
We also get the resolution with the fight between Qrow and Oz - they are both adults, after all, and Qrow's breathing room gave him the space to see beyond the anger and know that he still loves Oz, even when they disagree, and Oscar helps him realize just how Oz's perceptive works in all of this. Also, more culture traditions, because twins are gonna twin. It also amuses us to no end that Qrow technically pops the question without following any tradition whatsoever, and Oz is over there carefully constructing his ring and writing flowery prose in his head. Also, is it even possible to make a ring out of corn husks and silks? No idea, but it was such a cool idea.
We also see some of Qrow's self-worth and abandonment issues, but Oz is already leaps and bounds ahead of the score when it comes to treating it. And Oscar happily follow's Qrow's orders to disappear, lol.
Next chapter: the ride to the negotiations, lots of reflection from Oz, and the beginning of the negociations.