Author's Note: Before we get cracking on this chapter, a word, if you please. As many of you know, I enjoy responding to reviews and private messages with readers, in order to "talk shop" and discuss in detail the reasoning, motivations, or processes that go into my writing. One of those readers, in a private message discussing the human-Faunus conflict in the story, has made the mistake of confusing my interest in history, homage to chivalric romance, and deference to cultural tradition, as support of racial bigotry. Frankly, the notion that anyone could have gleaned that from my work leaves me feeling both appalled and profoundly shaken, moreso since this reader hoped that I would condone, or even approve of, derogatory ethnic slurs and genocidal white supremacist reasoning.
Just to clarify, this isn't me overreacting to a difference of partisan political opinion pertaining to the upcoming election. This is a reader positing that the problem with racial tension in the United States - and Europe - is that we aren't killing enough black people, and expecting me to agree with him.
And yes, I screencapped it, mostly to show to my boyfriend in order to confirm that, no, I hadn't skipped my meds, some delirious motherfucker really had the sheer gall to say that to me.
I almost deleted this story in fucking horror, and even then, it caused a delay as I had to digest that turn of events.
Let me be perfectly clear: if you subscribe to some alt-right, Identity Evropa, ahistorical, white nationalist, pro-ethnic cleansing bullshit, then I cordially invite you to fuck off, and that goes double if you think I would go in for such garbage myself. Fuck off, and then, once you've fucked off, go forth and fuck off from wherever it is you've gone and fucked off to, as the people there won't want to deal with you either. Once you've gone and just fucked off as far as it's physically possible for a human being to fuck off, then, and only then, can you sit in wretched isolation and reconsider your life.
Have I made my position on the matter clear?
*grumbles* Just wanted to write a goddamned story...got fuckin' Illinois Nazis all up in this shit...can't do anything fuckin' fun these days…
Anyway, here's the next chapter. Read it and enjoy while I get pampered by my new hot, black boyfriend.
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Silence reigned in the classroom as Blake Belladonna made her exit.
"Oh. That bitch." Perhaps unsurprisingly, it was Nora Valkyrie who broke that silence, stomping off as if to follow the secret cat Faunus, with a grim look on her face.
"No, Nora." Jaune's voice was flat and weary. He sounded defeated, just crushed. "I don't want you hurting anyone on my account."
"But-"
"I said no." He shook his head sadly.
"How can we fix this?" All eyes turned to Ruby Rose, who spoke up quietly from a corner of the room. "I just want us all to be friends again."
Yang sighed. "She has a point, you know. Not about the suicide thing!" She quickly raised her hands in surrender at the sudden, dark looks coming her way. "That was messed up. I'm just saying that the whole thing is pretty shocking, and we shouldn't expect her to just be okay, especially right away."
Jaune held his head in his hands, and let out a weary sigh. "She's right. Please, don't be angry with Blake. She has every right to be furious."
"I think that, no matter what we decide to do, we should do so with clear heads and calm hearts," Ren added as he sat down next to Jaune. He cautiously pulled the bloodied tissue from his nose, checking to make sure that his episode had played out before folding up the tissue to be thrown away later. "I say that we should go and get some rest. The weekend is tomorrow, and we can take the time to discuss the matter in-depth."
"A fine notion, Mister Ren. Do ensure that the rest of your teammates are well-situated, would you?" Ozpin sipped on his mug. "I'm going to need to borrow Mister Arc for some private counselling. Until such time as I clear him to return to duty, I am placing you in charge of Team JNPR, Mister Ren."
Magenta eyes widened in panic. "Me?" Ren asked, his voice cracking. "I, uh -"
"Have had two fine examples before you in Miss Rose and Mister Arc," Ozpin finished. "It isn't permanent, I assure you. Now, move along while I speak to Mister Arc."
Hesitantly, Ren nodded, standing up and gathering the bloodied tissue. "Let's, uh...let's go home."
When Pyrrha stood to leave, Weiss reached out to take her hand. "Pyrrha."
"Hmm?"
Weiss looked up at the taller girl, her eyes wide and shining. "Thank you. Thank you for saving him."
A sad smile crossed Pyrrha's face. "Well, you know what he always says. He doesn't need thanks for doing the right thing. Neither do I."
With a last nod towards Weiss, Pyrrha handed off Ascalon to Ozpin, and then she joined Ren and Nora, who had waved farewell to the two boys from Team CVFY. The three paused briefly, shooting a look at their despondent leader and friend. "New Team JNPR rule," Ren announced.
"New Team JNPR rule?" asked Nora, playing her part.
Ren nodded. "New Team JNPR rule. Jaune is not allowed to hurt himself, or to forget that we'd be devastated to lose him. All in favor?"
"Aye!"
"All opposed?"
Silence.
Ren smiled at Jaune. "The notion carries. So saith JNPR. We'll see you for dinner, Jaune." With that, Jaune's teammates departed.
"You have good friends," Weiss murmured, as she buried her face in his chest. "Don't forget that I'm not the only one who loves you."
"I'm afraid that I'm going to need you to let Mister Arc go now, Miss Schnee," said Ozpin. "I'll return him to you unharmed, I promise."
Slowly, reluctantly, Weiss released her grip on Jaune. "I'll always love you," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Please let the Headmaster help you. Everything will be okay, I promise."
With that, she stood, and slowly walked towards the door, where she was joined by the sisters of Team RWBY. Yang put an arm around her shoulder as they left the room.
Jaune and Ozpin sat together quietly. "Well," Ozpin finally said. "Needless to say, we have much to discuss."
[/]
There is a part of Blake Belladonna, I think, that will always hate me for what I have done.
That's okay. I hate me too.
All of my friends challenge me, in their own ways. Pyrrha pushes me as a straight-out combatant, in a setting where I cannot rely on overwhelming lethal force or tactical setting of the stage to facilitate combat. Nora challenges me to leave my comfort zone and to engage with her on a human level. Ren challenges me to refine my personality into a more well-rounded and complete form, while Yang challenges my patience by revealing the existence of my poetry notebook to the rest of our friends.
Retribution will be dire, Yang. That was just unneighborly.
Blake challenges me to keep to the path on which I've started. I know that, should I ever falter, those amber eyes of hers will no doubt see all, and she will be ready to hold me to account, by word if she can or by blade if she must. There is a sort of purity to her purpose, one born of the intensity to which she holds her ideals. From time to time, I have wondered if she would not do better for her people by following in her parents' footsteps and training to become a political leader, but then I swiftly drop the notion. The field of politics requires the ability to recognize the interests of others as legitimate, and to utilize interpersonal communication to hammer out some form of compromise that, while truly pleasing none, is at least workable for all. I have never met Ghira Belladonna, but from what I've read, he possesses the uncanny ability to know how to pick his battles, when to stand fast, as immovable as the mountain in righteous perseverance, and when to bend, like the willow in the wind. With a combination of moral fortitude, the dignity born of an unimpeachable character, and an astute political cunning, Ghira Belladonna has slowly, ever so slowly, reshaped the lives of humans and Faunus alike through reformation.
That is not Blake. Blake will break before she bends, and she will die before she breaks. She is a crusader, as much as any I have ever met, but what she lacks is direction. She is ready and willing to fight for her people, but she knows not how. I think that that's what she dislikes most about me. When we look at one another, we see each see our own distorted reflection looking back at us. Had I been born a Faunus, would I even now be seeking absolution for my history with the Fang? Had she been born a human, would she be haunted by the cruelty that she had been made to inflict by the Atlesian Armed Forces? Most damningly, would we have chosen other roads, better roads? Would Jaune Belladonna have left the Fang alongside his parents, and been hailed as a youthful leader of the next generation of young Faunus? Would Blake Arc have found the strength of will to deny General Ironwood his cruelty and refuse to defile her soul with such atrocity?
Every choice that we make closes off a thousand, thousand other choices that we could have made, choices that, in another life, we did, in fact, carry out. I suspect that, everytime Blake looks upon me, she perceives, on some level, that dissolution of the teleological certitude that consoles her with the notion that she did the right thing, as well as she could, in her circumstances. A part of her knows that she did not. Blake Belladonna is a broken soul, the same as myself, and that's the reason why her opinion means such a great deal to me. I believe - I have to believe - that one day, even one so unyielding as Blake Belladonna can find it within herself to forgive me.
Perhaps then, I can forgive myself.
"From the Journals of Sir Jaune d'Arc the Preserver," Arc Family Archives, Château d'Arc
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The other three members of Team RWBY found their erstwhile comrade in their dorm room, as she was angrily stuffing some of her Dust bullets into a satchel.
"Blake?" Ruby asked. "Are you going somewhere?"
She looked up to the three other girls at the doorway. "I'm leaving. I can't stay here, on this team, at this school."
"What?!" the little reaper was taken aback. "Blake, you can't just give up on us!"
"Why not?" Blake snapped. "I'm sure that evil human murderer will be all the company you need! Him and his precious Headmaster, who refuses to hold him accountable!"
"Jaune isn't evil!" Weiss protested. "Ironwood had him do those horrible, horrible things! He's a victim too!"
Blake scoffed. "Oh, he's a victim, is he? It wasn't him who was tortured, raped, mutilated! You think him putting some shiny armor on and learning how to talk like a pompous asshole makes him any less of a psychotic killer than he was before?!" Blake's voice rose in volume as her anger and frustration grew.
"If Jaune was as bad as you say he is, he wouldn't even be here! He rejected Ironwood all on his own!"
"Oh, tell me that stupid sob story again," Blake sneered. "He'll kill Faunus all the live-long day, but draws the line at a goddamn dog?!"
"It's because -" Weiss had begun to speak up again when Blake cut her off.
"Shut up, Weiss. Just shut. Up." Blake hissed as stalked towards the door, stopping just in front of Weiss. "I should've known better than to expect anything more from a Schnee." She laughed, a bitter, humourless sound. "Torturing Faunus. You probably got off on his little story."
Weiss slapped her.
The sound of her hand whipping across Blake's face echoed with a resounding crack, drawing a gasp from Ruby.
Ice cold eyes glared, matched by a gaze of burning amber. Weiss drew herself up with as much regal dignity as she could muster. "I will be staying with Team JNPR for the time being," Weiss announced, her tone glacial. With that, the heiress turned on her heel and strode out the door, her boot heels clacking along the floor.
Without a word, Blake went to leave as well.
"Wait, Blake -" Ruby called.
Blake slammed the door as she left.
She fumed as she stormed down the hall. Passing students took one look at the expression on her face and hastened to make way. Blake slipped into shadow with the ease of long practice, flipping up to sit on an overhand look out across the Beacon courtyard.
Why were her teammates so cavalier about Jaune's cruelty towards Faunus? Did her species really account for so little in their eyes? Was Adam right after all? If even Professor Ozpin, who made such a grand show of welcoming people "from all walks of life" into his school could overlook the torture and murder of a Faunus by his student, then what hope did the rest of the humans have to be any better than their murderous ancestors?
As she brooded, Blake saw a pair of students who may be able to help her figure out her next course of action. After Weiss had pulled him aside and explained what exactly Velvet had been doing, Jaune had spoken to the rabbit Faunus and told her that he was in a committed relationship with Weiss. While she was disappointed, the experience of working up her nerve to kiss her crush had helped Velvet come out of her shell, and she and the blonde wolf Faunus Lycan Arcadia had shared a moment during Operation Brick House. What could she say? The boy was bold, blonde, and had a surprisingly nice smile - Velvet had a type. A bit of flirting later, and Velvet had herself a date for that Friday night. The notion made Blake happy. At least something good came of that whole debacle, and the pair would form a proper Faunus couple.
Though Blake landed with the agile grace of a teenage Faunus ninja catgirl, Velvet still heard her footfalls with her large rabbit ears. She turned around, a mildly annoyed expression on her face. "I told you, Yats, you don't need to…" Velvet trailed off as she realized that her follower wasn't her protective teammate at all. "Um...can I help you?"
" Hey, Velvet, Lycan. Sorry to interrupt your date, but I need your help on something," Blake began. "You remember Jaune Arc, from Team JNPR?" As the somewhat mystified Faunus teens both nodded, Blake continued. "It turns out that he's got a past, a really dark past. He did terrible things to Faunus, but the Headmaster not only knows about it, but he isn't doing anything about it. What makes it worse is that none of my human teammates even seem to understand why it's so horrible! We need to organize and issue a statement, maybe go to the press, to let the Headmaster know that...that...Velvet?"
As Blake had been speaking, Velvet's expression had gone from mild curiosity to a complete deadpan, until she was staring, half-lidded, at Blake as though she was regarding a particularly slow child. "Are...are you for real?"
"Huh?"
Velvet sighed. "Blake...did you know that I met your mother once?"
"You did?"
The rabbit nodded. "When I was a little girl. Must've been about eight, nine, thereabouts. Your mum was coordinating relief efforts for new arrivals at Menagerie. There was a lot to do, I'm sure, but even then, she made time to meet with us kids. She sat down with us and read storybooks to us, made sure we got snacks and comfy beds. I remember she ruffled my hair and called me the cutest little bunny ever."
Blake looked confused. "Um...okay?"
"I never forgot that, what she was like. So much to do, so many more important people to deal with, and she made the special effort for a bunch of street kids. It means a lot." Velvet looked at the floor, working up her nerve, before meeting Blake's gaze again. "So what I don't understand is how someone like that somehow raised a daughter who is such a coward."
Blake's eyes went wide, as Lycan whistled. "What...what do you mean?" Blake stammered.
"How are you gonna come to me griping about humans when you're trying to hide as one?! If Jaune hadn't stepped in when Cardin attacked me, would you have done anything? Or would you have just kept sitting there, hiding your ears? You're not just any old Faunus, you're a Belladonna! So how do you think the rest of us feel when we see you - we see you, you aren't fooling anyone! - when we see you hiding from your identity as a Faunus? You abandon us and then expect us to hop to it when you come calling?"
Blake just stared, unable to think of what to say.
"I don't know what's going on with Jaune, but at the very least, I owe it to him to hear it from him myself before I make up my mind on anything. At least when he says he wants to make amends, he actually goes and does things. So the next time you want to come to me to talk about Faunus issues? Take off the stupid bow." Velvet smiled sweetly at her date as she took Lycan's hand. "So, on to the movies? I wanna get some popcorn!"
"...For the record, that was hot as hell," Lycan muttered, blown away by Velvet's display of vehemence, as the pair walked off. They left a stunned Blake behind to linger alone in the courtyard.
Blake let out a breath that she didn't know that she'd been holding. Part of her had always just assumed that, whether as part of the White Fang or not, leadership of the Faunus would just fall naturally to her. It never occurred to her that her own people might...might reject her. People listened to her father because they knew that he had good ideas, and the personal grit to see them through. People went above and beyond in their devotion to her mother because she did the same for them. A few moments of kindness for her was a treasured lifetime memory for Velvet. Jaune, of all people, had somehow convinced his team that he had their best interests at heart, and even Ruby was trying her best.
It was at that moment that Blake truly understood that leadership wasn't given, but earned. Her parents had earned their stature among their people, and she...well, her actions had earned her a very different sort of recognition.
Standing in the Beacon Academy courtyard, Blake felt very much alone. Slowly, she turned around and made her way back to the dormitory. Sheepishly, she cracked open the door to Team RWBY's room, peering in.
"How am I supposed to fix this?" Ruby was asking her sister, the girl obviously distraught. "We can't function if half the team is ready to tear the throat out of the other half!"
Yang sighed as she patted Ruby's back. "Look, I know you're doing your best, but...maybe it was an impossible task? I mean, people have been trying to get Humans and Faunus, Fang and Schnees, to stop fighting for ages now. It's kinda unfair to ask you to figure it out your first semester when none of them could do it either."
"I just want us to be friends," lamented Ruby. "A team, a real team. I don't want Team RWBY to fail."
Blake pushed the door, its hinges squealing as it swung open.
"Blake? Blake!" Ruby glomped onto the cat Faunus, who awkwardly accepted the younger girl's unrestrained affection. "You came back!"
She stood there for a moment, unsure of where to begin. Slowly, she extricated herself from Ruby's clutches, awkwardly patting the human girl on the head. Without saying a word, she slung her satchel on the bedpost of her bunk before silently jumping onto it. Blake reached up and, with great deliberation, untied the bow, allowing her black-furred cat ears to spring free.
As she curled into a ball on her bed, she heard a soft voice, a whisper from Ruby Rose.
"I'm sorry, Blake. We'll find a way to make things okay. For everyone. I promise."
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The good news was that the trio had successfully managed to make it to Argus by stowing away on a cargo vessel. The bad news was that, after arriving in the northern Mistral port city on a crisp autumn morning, it quickly became apparent that Winter's accounts had been frozen after she'd deserted. With only what pocket money she had on her, funds were in short supply.
Penny, of course, remained as cheerful as ever, while Fria took the situation in with detached amusement. While the early autumn weather in Argus was far milder than in Atlas proper, Winter didn't wish to take any chances with Fria's condition. Furthermore, some extra cloth, when wrapped around their heads and necks, could better allow Winter and Penny, with their distinctive hair, to better travel incognito. It was just that, well, Winter couldn't exactly afford any at the moment, which is how the three women found themselves in one of the more upscale neighborhoods in Argus, trying very hard not to look like they were casing the place as they were absolutely casing the place.
One house, large but with classical lines and even white marble pillars on the porch, had a humble, incongruous laundry line in the backyard, upon which hung several sheets and towels, fluttering as they dried in the early autumn wind. "There's our mark," Winter whispered. She looked left, looked right, and then, seeing no one, led her two charges behind the house. The ex-soldier had picked out a heavy blanket for Fria to wrap around herself like a cloak, while she attempted to show Penny how to wrap a cloth around her head and shoulders to act as a shawl.
"Hello, there. Why are you stealing my linens?"
Winter just about jumped out of her boots, and only managed to refrain from drawing her saber at the very last second. Standing across from the trio was a woman, of early middle age, her head canted as she regarded them curiously. There had been no accusation in her tone, only an amused puzzlement. The apparent homeowner was tall and slender, dressed in a simple, draping white gown that left one shoulder bare, and sandals with long straps criss-crossing up her legs. She had large blue eyes, and wore her long red hair, streaked with gray, in thick braids that fell down her back.
Winter scrambled to think of some sort of fast-talk to get her out of that particularly awkward situation. Unfortunately, Penny chimed in first.
"Salutations, citizen!" she chirped, as brightly as a baby bird. "We're stealing your linens to keep warm, and to make sure that our bright hair doesn't stand out! Bad people will come and hurt us if they find us."
"Oh, I see, then," the woman said. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" She gave a once-over to Winter and Fria. "More refugees fleeing Atlas, I take it?"
Winter raised an eyebrow. "Have there...been many of late?"
"More than a few, less than a flood. Still, it bodes poorly." The redhaired woman clapped her hands together. "Enough of such talk, for now. You must all join me as guests for brunch, and we may speak further then."
Fria shrugged underneath the blanket. "Free food is always a good thing."
"I...thank you," Winter began hesitantly. "I'm sorry that we were driven to such measures, Miss…"
"Nikos," the woman said. "My name is Medusa Nikos. Never mind the linens, they are minor things, easily gifted. May I know your names?"
"That is Wint -" As Penny began to guilelessly name her guardian, Winter cut her off with a nudge. "Or…" the android girl tried to recover.
"Wintour," Winter clarified. "It's our family surname. I am," she hid a wince as she blurted the first name that came to mind. "Elsa," she said. "This is my younger sister, Anna, and our dear grandmother, Fria."
Weiss must never know of this incident, she thought, embarrassed.
"Yes, that's right!" Penny beamed, eager to be a helper. "My name is Anna Wintour!" She hiccuped as she finished, and Winter fought the urge to facepalm. For some reason, Penny always hiccupped when she tried to lie, a tic that simply could not be altered, no matter how much the finest software programmers in Atlas had tried to fix it.
Medusa smiled warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you all. Now please, come inside." The tall redhead ushered them into her home.
The house, though large, was not ostentatiously so, and unlike the Schnee Manor, the lighting was in rich, warm tones. The end effect was spacious, but still inviting, unlike the virtual mausoleum in which Winter had come of age. Medusa bustled them into a comfortable parlor and sat them down, practically pushing glasses of fresh-squeezed orange juice into their hands before popping into the attached kitchen.
Winter was actually getting rather embarrassed by how kind Miss Nikos was being, particularly given that they'd approached her home to loot her laundry. "I assure you, Miss Nikos, there's no need to go through such measures on our account," she said, as the sounds of clattering pans rang from the kitchen.
"Oh, don't be silly," admonished their host. "It's no bother, truly. Ever since my daughter went off to Beacon, it's just been me all alone in this big empty house. Having some guests over is no imposition, I assure you."
"If the house is so much bigger than you need, why not sell it and buy a smaller one?" asked Winter.
Fria smirked. "Isn't it obvious, girl?"
Winter blinked. "Um…"
Medusa popped her head in from the kitchen. "It's big and empty now, but I'm hoping that it'll be filled with grandchildren one day." She disappeared from the parlor, happily chopping up mushrooms for omelettes at the kitchen counter. "Of course, it'll take a special someone to keep up with my little Pyri. Apparently, some boy managed to actually best her in a training match. Can you believe it? Of course, I was hoping that she'd met her match in a romantic sense as well, but she swears up and down that they're just friends. I was still obliged to tease her outrageously, of course. No matter how many titles she wins, she'll always be mommy's little myrmidon," she said fondly.
"Your daughter is Pyrrha Nikos!" Penny blurted, her eyes alight in excitement.
"Last time I checked," Medusa japed, flipping omelettes over in the pan.
"I want to punch your daughter!" the android girl cheered happily.
Winter was aghast. "Pen - Anna! What has gotten into you?"
"Pyrrha Nikos is one of the top-tier combatants in the world!" Winter had never thought to see Penny fangirling before, but there it was. "It would be an honor to punch her in the nose!"
Winter just stared at the android girl. "...I have no idea what's going on," she admitted.
Medusa laughed as she walked into the room, bearing a tray with plates of omelettes and bacon. "Oh, there aren't many children her age who don't know of my Pyrrha. She won a few fights, and silly people made such a fuss over it all. So, you think you could take on my girl?" she asked Penny.
"It would be simply marvelous," Penny gushed. "I'm combat ready!" Her expression then fell. "Or at least, I was," she finished, her tone glum.
Though Miss Nikos had opened her mouth to respond, she was interrupted by heavy knocks at the front door, pounding that was just shy of actual attempts to break it down. "Oh my," she said, rising to answer the door. "I just have all manner of visitors today."
She opened the door to reveal a tall man wearing the uniform of the infamous Atlas Specialists, though it had been altered to leave his thickly-muscled arms bare. That a Specialist would arrive at her door was unusual. That he was flanked by a squad of soldiers was alarming.
"Good day, officer," Medusa greeted politely. "May I help you?"
"We have reason to believe that a dangerous fugitive from Atlas has taken shelter here," Captain Clover Ebi began without preamble. "This fugitive is armed, dangerous, and has stolen property belonging to the Atlas Armed Forces. Stand aside so that we might bring her into custody and retrieve the property."
Medusa blinked, her wide blue eyes a picture of innocence. "Why, you must be mistaken, officer. I -"
"I'm not the property of the Armed Forces!" Before Winter could stop her, Penny had stormed over to the door. "I am the intellectual property of Doctor Polendina. The Armed Forces merely leased my services."
"Upon the occasion of Polendina's death, The General invoked General Order 68653, commandeering you as a resource essential to the defense of Atlas."
"Excuse me" Medusa interrupted. She fixed Clover with an intense glare, one that set him on his heels. Clover instantly clicked her up several notches on his internal threat assessment, and rested his hand on the rod at his side. "I don't know how things are done in Atlas, but here in Mistral, if something can argue with you about its status as property, then it isn't property at all."
From behind her, Winter placed her hand on the hilt of her saber, preparing to draw it. "Thank you for a lovely meal, Miss Nikos, but please, allow me to handle this. This is a dangerous man, and I would hate to see you come to harm on our account."
Medusa gave Winter a dazzling smile of white teeth. "Miss Wintour, the three of you are all guests in my home. The laws of hospitality are inviolable." She turned back to Clover and turned the full force of her glare upon him, her eyes as hard as stone. "Leave."
In the mind of the soldiers, the matronly, seemingly-harmless woman before them had metamorphosed into some terrifying visage from the depths of nightmares. Long, jagged fangs erupted from a grinning maw that stretched impossibly wide across her face. The long braids that she wore rose around her like snapping vipers, a sickly green-hued venom dripping from their needlelike teeth. Medusa's eyes burned with more open malice than even the most hateful of the Creatures of Grimm.
Captain Clover Ebi froze in fear, petrified between his urge to run away and his imperative to carry out his orders, but as urine soaked the front of his immaculate white trousers to pool upon the front porch, he lost his battle of willpower. The Specialist turned tail and fled, catching up with the squad of soldiers who had proceeded to haul ass away from the nightmarish snake lady at all speed.
Winter's jaw dropped. From where she stood, it looked as though Miss Medusa Nikos had merely looked at them, and an entire squad of hardened Atlas soldiers - including a Specialist! - had quite literally pissed themselves in terror and tripped over themselves in naked panic to run away from a single, utterly harmless-looking civilian.
"Well, that just happened," Fria summated the encounter, already heading back to her food. Whatever else may be said of the old woman, she at least had her priorities straight.
"...What was that?" Winter asked their host.
"Oh, that?" Miss Nikos said absently, frowning as she headed over to a closet. She retrieved a mop from it, and a moment later, was hard at work cleaning up the puddle that Clover had left behind. "That was the second of the gifts that the gods granted me," she explained.
Winter blinked. More crazy? She thought she'd left that behind with The General in Atlas. "Could you...elaborate?" she said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. Crazy or not, she did intervene on behalf of herself and her charges, and it wouldn't do to be rude.
"I was once weak, and helpless," Medusa explained. "A cruel man, he...hurt me. When I was broken in despair, I prayed to the gods, and soon, the first of their gifts was growing inside of me. When the cruel man returned to...to finish the job, I prayed to the gods for the strength to protect the life I carried within me. With a glance, I can send people fleeing in terror, a gift that I used to protect myself and my little Pyri. When she was born...you can never truly know what perfection is until you gaze into the eyes of your child. I prayed to the gods that my darling little girl would never have to suffer what I had, and they gifted her with a talent for battle above all others." She glanced over at Winter, smiling gently. "I know that it must seem...an odd belief," she said. "But how can I dispute the gods when they have seen fit to bless me so?"
Well, Winter, for one, could think of perfectly rational explanations for everything that Medusa had said in her story. She had rationalized her pregnancy as a way to imbue a greater meaning to a cruel and senseless violation, the stress and terror of a repeat attack while pregnant had caused her to unlock her Semblance, some sort of fear-inducing mental illusion, and her daughter had inherited a predilection towards violence from her biological father, though thankfully, it seemed to have been tempered by personality traits inherited or imparted to her by her gentle mother.
Religiosity was rare among most people in Remnant. There were communities of Faunus who believed in a nature deity that gave them form to bring peace between the worlds of humans and nature, but due to her Atlesian upbringing, Winter knew little more about them than that. Her education pertaining to the Faunus had mostly consisted of understanding and countering their physical attributes, not much regarding their actual culture. Among humans, there were mostly just a few, secretive cults scattered about here and there, of whom Winter assumed that Medusa was a member.
Still, Medusa's brand of crazy was at least far more benign than whatever madness had taken hold of The General. It was obviously some sort of survival mechanism for the woman to cope with what had happened to her, and to hold herself together for the sake of her daughter. Winter decided to categorize it as a harmless eccentricity.
"Well, gift or no gift, it won't hold those soldiers at bay for long," Winter said. "We thank you for what you have done on our behalf, but it simply won't be safe for you here now that you've interfered with Atlas Armed Forces operations."
Medusa just shrugged. "It's not like I had much else on my plate anyway. Now that my daughter's all grown up, why not take a spontaneous vacation?"
Winter smiled. "That's the spirit. Now, I'm going to need to call in some help." The ex-soldier's smile faded. "Let the record show that I am hesitant to do this. I am so very hesitant to do this." She took out her Scroll, and entered in a special CCT signal override code, one that belonged to the SDC, not the Atlas Armed Forces. Sure enough, the smirking, grizzled visage of the one man who, infuriatingly, could help her out of this jam manifested on the Scroll's screen.
"Ice Queen?" Qrow's gravelly voice held a note of surprise. "Look, this is a bit much for a booty call, don't you -"
"Can it," Winter snapped out of automatic reflex. "I'm in trouble, Qrow. Serious trouble, and there are civilians involved as well. I need your...I need your help."
"What's the deal?" Qrow asked. "And why can't your precious general help?"
Winter swallowed. "I am...defecting, Qrow, and there are people with me who will need asylum. I need you to inform your master, and possibly extract as well."
Qrow let out a low whistle. "Wow, if he lost you, then ol' Jimmy must have really screwed the pooch."
"Screwed it, set it on fire, and punted the corpse into a meat grinder."
"Wow. Just...wow. All right, signal says you're calling from Argus. Lucky for you, I'm not that far from there. Hold tight, I'll be there ASAP. Be there soon, Snow Angel."
Winter felt her face heat up as a blush rose to her cheeks. "For the last time, don't call me that, Bird Brain! This is serious!"
"Sure thing."
She closed down the Scroll with a strangled sound of frustration. Why did that man have to insist on being so very infuriating! Then she looked up to see Medusa giving her a knowing smile.
"So, when will your husband be here?"
Winter made a little squeaking sound. "Husband? What?"
"Oh, forgive me for assuming. Boyfriend, then."
The blush that had risen to her cheeks spread across her face, and even up the tips of her ears. Damn her fair complexion! "I...that is, he...there is nothing going on between myself and that disreputable reprobate!"
Medusa simply cocked an eyebrow at her, her expression one of supreme skepticism. "I see. And the pet names - Snow Angel, Bird Brain - those are simply ways in which professional colleagues address one another?"
"We aren't even colleagues!" protested Winter. "He's just...just…"
"The man you instantly thought of when you needed someone the most," Medusa finished for her. "And the man who instantly dropped what he was doing to come help. Mmmhmm. Nothing going on there at all, I'm sure." She patted Winter on the shoulder as she rolled the mop bucket back inside.
Winter stared at the Scroll in her hand. Was it too late to go back to Atlas?
[/]
The elevator to Ozpin's office dinged, and the Headmaster led Jaune into the clockwork room. "Please, take a seat," he said, indicating a comfortable-looking chair facing the desk to Jaune. Wordlessly, Jaune did as he was told, while Ozpin went about brewing something at a table to one side of the room. After a moment, the Headmaster returned, setting a steaming mug in front of Jaune before taking a seat behind his desk. He sipped his mug, then frowned as he saw that Jaune hadn't taken the one he'd offered to him.
"Please, Mister Arc, feel free to have a drink."
"I don't care for coffee, sir," Jaune answered.
"Well, I suppose that it's a good thing that that isn't coffee," the Headmaster replied with a smile. Jaune cautiously picked up the mug and sniffed it curiously. As it turns out, the Headmaster had been consistently sipping on mugs of hot cocoa the entire time. Jaune took a sip of his own. The cocoa was made of real chocolate, and while it was sweetened, the sugar wasn't overpowering, and just a hint of bitterness made it to his palate.
"...Fair enough," Jaune said, keeping the mug.
The pair sat together quietly before Ozpin spoke up. "Supposing that you had succeeded in ending your own life, what would have been the consequences of such a thing?" As Jaune hesitated, Ozpin continued, answering his own question. "Well, the most immediate consequences would have been that you would have died, making quite the mess on the floor as it were. Miss Schnee, of course, would have been devastated, most likely withdrawing in on herself in her grief and alienating the rest of your friends from her. Your team would be listless and leaderless, your replacement struggling to keep abreast of a team rent asunder by guilt and grief. Miss Rose, gentle soul that she is, would have been traumatized by seeing a friend take his own life in front of her, with her sister struggling, as she always has, to protect her sister from aspects of life and death, against which there can be no defense. I believe that, in time, even Miss Belladonna would come to regret your passing." Ozpin paused to take another sip. "And, of course, your dog would be tremendously sad, never understanding why you disappeared from his life so abruptly."
Ozpin paused, to let his words sink in. "Of course, those are merely the consequences among your immediate friend group. On the larger scale, your death, and the subsequent throwing of the majority of the most talented Huntsmen-in-training of your generation into emotional disarray, would have reverberations in the wars to come."
"Sir?"
Ozpin steepled his fingers. "There is a plan at work, Mister Arc, and you are a part of it. While you may not know the details as yet, I know that you know that much, at least. So why, when you are just beginning to understand the scope of the conflict in which you find yourself, would you seek to take your own life?"
"I…" Jaune struggled to speak. "I couldn't bear it. The...the shame of it all, flooding in all at once. I deserve to die," he croaked.
"You will."
"Sir?"
"Oh, not today. Nor will I have you executed for the atrocities that a juvenile Jaune Arc had been manipulated into carrying out by a grown man, a veteran soldier who should have known better. But the fact remains, stark and immovable, that one day, you will die. Miss Schnee will die. Your dog will die, as will all of your friends, one by one or all in one great calamity. It is simply the way of things."
Ozpin gestured, and at his command, part of the wall behind him opened up to expose a window, revealing the night sky. He stood and gazed out of the window, hands clasped behind his back. As Jaune made to follow, Ozpin gestured at the celestial vista laid out before them. "The ancients believed the stars to be immortal. Did you know that? They believed them to have existed beyond the petty concerns of men. In a sense, they were correct, but theirs was an inability to comprehend the true scope of the life of a star. For you see, stars are just the same as any other living being: they are born, they burn in the dark, and then, eventually, they too perish. Were a man to somehow live long enough, he would be able to track and bear witness to entire constellations shift and warp, their old patterns rendered into mere remembrances, faded memories of an impossibly aged man. Even stars die, Jaune. But first...first, they burn, together, against the night. Even if that light is brief compared to the overwhelming scope of eternity, there is an infinity of difference between one light and none at all. And our night sky is an infinity of such infinities."
He looked over at Jaune. "Ultimately, that is all that life is, Jaune. A struggle against the dark, at best a temporary stalemate. But there is such beauty, such wonder in that struggle, as futile and impermanent as it may ultimately be. Those constellations that we see now were born of those stars what came before them. And someday, when those constellations that we see tonight have faded into memory, their successors will arise. We are, each of us, transitory and impermanent, but the actions that we take carry their repercussions long after we, ourselves, are gone and done to dust."
Ozpin brought forth Ascalon. "What you must understand, Jaune, is that there is always a choice. What I am asking of you is to make your first free, informed choice of your life: you can choose to take this spear and break your word to me, and break the heart of your friends and loved ones, in order to take your own life, to snuff out that light before it has truly had time to shine its brightest. Or, you could take up this spear, rejoin your friends, and truly dedicate yourself to the fight. You could choose to fight against the looming spectre of death, for as long as you are able, to fight to preserve the lives of your friends, of the innocent people of Remnant, and even your own life as well, for as long as you are allotted to walk this world."
He offered the spear to Jaune. "The choice, Jaune Arc, is to decide just what sort of man you are."
Jaune stared at the spear, then slowly, he reached out to take it. He stared at it in his hands for a long while, before, with a great sigh, clipping it to its place on his belt. He took a deep, shaky breath.
"For what it's worth, while you are an important piece of the plan, that does not mean that you are not valued for your own sake," Ozpin said. "I, for one, am relieved that you have made your choice."
Jaune nodded, then looked back at the night sky. "May I...may I stay here for a time?"
"Of course."
For the first time in centuries, Ozma yielded control to Charles d'Arc le Magne, allowing an old, old man an hour to simply stand quietly with his grandson and watch the stars.
[/]
If you would seek to understand the higher mysteries of Aura, you must first come to understand this truth, with all of your being: though the body may be weak and breakable, the spirit...the spirit is indomitable.
"From the introduction of 'The Power of the Spirit: A Primer on the Phenomenon of Aura," by Doctor Lie Ren, Professor of Auralogy at Beacon Academy
O my angel
My beloved
Shall autumn take the place of spring?
Life fades away
Like night into day
All is fading dream
I'm the darkness
She's the starlight
Shining brightly from on high
For eternity
For me, there can be
Only you
My evening star
So gently
You touched my heart
I will be
Forever yours
Come what may
Hear as I say
I loved you
Always
"Starlit Lament," from "Goddamn It, Yang, I Said I Was Sorry, Don't You Dare Publish My Poetry Notebook: The Compiled Prose of Sir Jaune d'Arc," ed. Yang Xiao Long, Patch Publishing Company, Xiao Long Residence, Patch Island, Kingdom of Vale. Notably, "Goddamn It, Yang" was the first and only title published by the briefly-lived Patch Publishing Company.
[/]
Weiss fidgeted with Percival's fur as she regarded the rest of Jaune's team. "So...as awkward as it sounds,there's...well, let's be polite and refer to it as tension between myself and a certain teammate of mine. Would it be okay if I stayed with Jaune for the time being?"
Ren shook himself as he realized that the other students in Team JNPR's dorm room were all looking at him for an answer. That meant that he would actually be required to speak. He crossed his arms. "Well, I don't see any harm in it. In fact, your connection with him might actually have a beneficial effect on his treatment."
"Thank you," Weiss said graciously. "I won't be much bother."
"We still need to figure out how to fix the rift in your team," Pyrrha said, from where she'd been leaning against a wall.
Weiss huffed, trying to keep her temper. "Well, when Belladonna is willing to apologize to Jaune for her atrocious behavior, I will be ready to forgive."
The four teens looked at the door as the lock unlatched, and Jaune entered the room. If he was surprised to see Weiss with his team, he didn't show it, as, without breaking stride, he simply grabbed her up into a desperate embrace. "I'm sorry," he whispered, placing a hand to stroke her long, silvery locks. "I'm so sorry."
Weiss, her feet dangling off the floor, closed her eyes as she just allowed his presence to soothe her. "Don't leave me," she murmured. "Don't you dare leave me alone in this world."
"Well...you'd still have Percival," Jaune offered, weakly.
"Shut up. I love you."
Eventually, he set her down, and made to address his teammates, though Weiss, as was quickly becoming her custom, held onto his arm for her own comfort. "I'm sorry to you as well," he said. "Also, Pyrrha...thank you."
The champion smiled brilliantly at her partner. "Any time."
"Hey, let's get something to eat," Nora suggested. Some things, it seemed, never changed, but as Team JNPR and Weiss sat down for dinner, Nora made particular effort to offer part of her pancakes to Jaune. It was the girl's way of showing support to her friend.
"So, how are we going to fix Team RWBY?" Jaune asked Weiss.
The heiress frowned. "I understand Blake's feelings, truly, I do...what Ironwood made you do was horrible. I just hope in time that her anger will at least calm to the point where she can be reasoned with."
Jaune sighed. "I never wanted to cause this sort of schism in our team," he said. "I'll go over tomorrow and -"
"No." Ren interrupted, his voice calm but firm.
"No?"
"No." Ren shook his head. "Jaune, you tried to commit suicide today. We need to focus on your recovery, while Ruby and Yang try to reach Blake. The last thing that we need is for her to lash out in anger and make things worse. Your task is to remain with us as we help you attain emotional and spiritual equilibrium."
Weiss laid her head on Jaune's shoulder. "Listen to Ren," she said. "Whenever he actually speaks, he speaks sense."
Ren quirked an eyebrow. "Thank you?" He shrugged. "At any rate, if we're done eating, I'd like to examine you, to see what has changed since our efforts this afternoon. Weiss, you should join us."
Pyrrha and Nora began gathering up the dishes, while Weiss led Jaune over towards his bunk. She tried to keep from blushing as Jaune stripped down to just his blue Atlesian boxer shorts.
She failed.
"The first step is to 'introduce' ourselves to the patient," Ren began to lecture. "Jaune has proven to be surprisingly receptive to touch, probably as a result of touch deprivation during his childhood."
One day, Weiss would go a day without some detail of Jaune's past arising to break her heart all over again. That was not that day.
As she watched, Ren poured some kind of massage oil into his hands, then rubbed them together. He sat behind Jaune on the bed and then placed his palms on Jaune's back. Ren used long, smooth strokes along the musculature of Jaune's back and shoulders. "Setting the patient at ease enables smoother reading of his Aura. Less resistance."
Pyrrha and Nora, having finished the dishes, plopped onto their own bunks, watching Ren at work. "Proper care and feeding of a Jaune-Jaune," Nora quipped.
"Once the patient is ready, focus minute quantities of your Aura into your fingertips," Ren continued. "The Auras of different individuals will react to each other, but by syncing yourself to the patient through the previous steps, the interaction should not cause the patient any distress. The idea is to 'read' the patient's Aura circulation in the same way that a blind person can read Braille with their fingertips." His slender, dextrous fingers slid across Jaune's chest, back and shoulders. "Hmm…" he closed his eyes to better trace the circuits of spiritual energy. "Nora, could you bring me the basin and a washcloth? And Pyrrha, my notes please?"
Nora saluted. "Nurse Nora is on the case!" She scrambled to fill a basin with warm water, while Pyrrha brought Ren his notebook and a pen.
"Thank you," the Aura specialist said to both girls. He first dipped his hands in the water, to clean them of the oil, then, after flicking them dry, he took up the pen. "The good news is that, while the procedure may have been...traumatic, it also appears to have been a complete success."
"Really?" Weiss asked, her excitement palpable.
Ren nodded absently as he scribbled notes. "It appears that Yatsuhashi's theory was correct after all, and Jaune had subconsciously blocked three of his own meridians. After the procedure, those meridians have been opened. Again, I must state my astonishment that Jaune was able to manifest his Aura at all, let alone with such potency. I must confess, I'm more than a little curious to see just how potent that Aura will become now that he's becoming more balanced. It will take some time for his Aura to reach its equilibrium, but on the whole, I would say that our Jaune is well on the road to recovery."
"Have you considered going for a doctorate in Auralogy?" Weiss asked, curious.
"Well, I have thought of it before, but I wouldn't wish to leave Nora for such an extended period of time," Ren answered. He dipped the cloth into the water and began gently scrubbing the oil from Jaune's back and shoulders.
From her bunk, Nora frowned. "Ren...I wouldn't want to be the reason for you not to do something," she said.
"Well...we can discuss it in the future," he said with a shrug. "I wouldn't make the attempt until after we have concluded our education here at Beacon in any event. Now Weiss, if you wish, we can have you read his Aura yourself."
"Is it okay?" she asked, concerned for her boyfriend.
Ren nodded. "Let's just get him more comfortable. Jaune, if you would please lay on your back?"
The patient complied.
"Now Weiss, remember to rub your hands together first," he directed the heiress. "Now, gently place your hands on his chest...good...now...close your eyes, and imagine paper thin discs of your Aura, tiny slivers of your soul, affixed to the tips of your fingers."
Weiss did as instructed, feeling a slight tingle from where her fingertips just barely touched Jaune's flesh. She closed her eyes, imagining everything that made Weiss Weiss, stretched thin in small discs upon the tips of her fingers.
Weiss felt him.
Jaune felt her.
Suddenly, the Scrolls of every Hunter in the room blatted out an alert. Ren, surprised, pulled his open, and saw that the Aura monitor was going berserk. Jaune's Aura skyrocketed, doubling in an instant.
"Jaune?" Weiss asked. Jaune had sat up once more, but more importantly, his Aura manifested so strongly that he began to glow, emitted a white-gold radiance that flooded the room.
Lie Ren watched, baffled, as Jaune's Aura continued to climb, higher and higher. Four hundred percent. Eight hundred percent. Twelve hundred percent! Finally, after capping out at a two thousand percent boost to his already considerable base, Jaune's Aura finally stopped climbing. The leader of Team JNPR was practically incandescent, alit with a spiritual flame that was nearly blinding for his friends to perceive.
Slowly, Jaune's Aura began to return to something more akin to its previous state, though his new baseline Aura reservoir was half-again as large as it had been previously, a reflection of Jaune's damaged state prior to the procedure. Jaune himself had focused, and had concentrated that burning white flame of his to flow into his right hand.
"...Jaune?" Weiss asked, cautiously. "Are you okay?"
He fixed her with a truly serene smile.
"Never better."
[/]
Chapter Endnotes: Something of a lighter chapter this time around. A story can't be all super-intense all the time, but rather, it must ebb and flow as the tides.
For Blake's parents, I based her father on Martin Luther King, Jr. - the real one, not the sanitized version for mainstream public consumption - and for Kali, I based her primarily off of Diana, Princess of Wales. Princess Diana was amazing. In the eighties, she went and shook hands with AIDS patients, challenging the conception that AIDS itself could be contracted by casual contact. The Lady Di also tended to lepers, and once, in Angola, kicked up efforts to disarm landmines by walking through a minefield herself, with the argument being that those minesweepers had best do a damn good job.
Imagine figures like that, and consider how the other young Faunus must take Blake's attempt at hiding her Faunus identity. "Betrayed" wouldn't be a strong enough word.
If you're puzzled by my use of Medusa as Pyrrha's mother, consider the version that we hear from Ovid's Metamorphoses. In that myth, Medusa was a beautiful priestess of Athena, when Neptune - the god, not the dork - raped her on the floor of the temple, prompting the goddess to grant her the fearsome, herpetological hairdo that we all know. Was that to be some kind of punishment, or was it perhaps a way to ensure that no one, be they man nor god, would be able to take the priestess, not ever again? By carefully considering what Ovid wrote and why, there is room to recast Medusa as a sort of feminine hero, who refuses to be victimized one way or another, and whose power endures beyond her own death. Her very name is the Latin transliteration of an ancient Greek word for "protector."
Mama Nikos's beliefs regarding the circumstances of her daughter's birth are just that - hers. I'm trusting you, the audience, to be able to handle mature topics in this story without turning the comment section into a shitshow. Please repay that trust.
Yes, I made a Frozen reference, and yes, I am sorry. Let it go.
Ozma has seen all of this shit before. What I wanted to do with him is try to convey the wisdom that accumulates of untold eons of life.
Yes, Yang absolutely will, in the future, found a publishing company, buy the equipment, and publish Jaune's poetry notebook as a nuclear deathblow in their escalating prank war. It hasn't happened yet, but the notion amused me. Jaune's poem is an adaptation of Aria di Mezzo Carattere, the famous opera song from Final Fantasy VI.
Just as I'm giving Pyrrha more of a backstory, I'm giving Lie Ren more of something to do that isn't minding Nora. While Jaune represents the aspiring Knight, Ren represents the aspiring Scholar. "Scholar" has different connotations in China than in the West. What I mean is that Lie Ren holds himself to be a highly-refined young gentleman, with a broad array of knowledge and skills, and who cultivates the arts to develop his own character.
Right. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Behave yourselves, and see you in the next installment!
-Mahina
