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"My cabbages!"
On a country dirt road in the Valean hinterlands, Jaune, Weiss, and Sir Roland watched the farmer that the squire and his horse had saved, as the man mourned the produce that had been smashed to bits under the hooves of the powerful warhorse. "You poor things…" he sighed. "You never even had a chance."
Jaune shared a glance at Talos, man and horse both being at something of a loss.
"Take heart, there are still plenty left in the cart," Sir Roland interjected, before the farmer could really get wound up. "Boy, help the man flip his cart aright, and load up what can be saved."
Dutifully, Jaune hopped off of his horse and walked over to the produce cart, his armor clanking as he walked. Using the handgrips, he wrenched the cart back over onto its wheels, then strolled around picking up what cabbages had survived Talos's charge. It looked worse than it really was, but then, not being a cabbage farmer, Jaune had no idea if losing a third of one's cabbage delivery constituted a disaster. Still, the man was alive and even had some produce left to sell, so it could have been much worse.
"The road ahead to Vale is clear," Jaune said, as the grumbling farmer picked up the end of his cart and began trudging back along the road. "No, no, don't fall over yourself in gratitude," he muttered.
The clopping of hooves signaled the arrival of Sir Roland, with Weiss and Percival seated next to him on the cart. "Ah, good work, boy. Made quick work of those wolves, eh?"
Jaune shrugged, the movement exaggerated by the thick steel pauldrons of his armor. "Merely Beowulves, sir, easily dispatched."
The old man rolled his eyes. "You've been trained to fight your whole life, boy. You've got arms, armor, Aura, and you know how to use them all. For normal folk, those creatures are monsters out of legend. A bit of recreation for you is a life-and-death struggle for that cabbage farmer. Don't lose sight of that, boy."
"And Percival was a very good boy as well," Weiss added, praising the dog for pointing the way to trouble.
"That's the day-to-day work of a knight, you know," Sir Roland told his squire. "Patrolling the roads in the hinterlands, making sure that the roads stay clear." Rocinante the draft horse resumed his casual walk, and Jaune rode alongside the cart while Sir Roland continued lecturing his squire. "It's more important work than you know. The city might last for a time on its own, but ultimately, a city without the roads to the farmlands clear is like a heart with clogged arteries. It'll kill it sooner rather than later. And the farmlands, of course, need the city as the safe, central place to meet, to take their wares to market, and if necessary, to retreat when things go pear-shaped. So, when you're not set on a specific mission, or hear word of a particularly dangerous Grimm that demands your attention, you take the time to patrol the roads, understand?"
"As you say, Sir Roland," Jaune answered, the dutiful squire as always. Of course, from his angle while seated on Talos, he had a great view down the front of Weiss's dress, a view that simply demanded a good portion of his attention. Good thing his visor didn't obscure that sight.
"Well, what about Huntsmen and Huntresses?" Weiss asked the elderly knight. "How do they factor in?"
Sir Roland chuckled. "Well, fine bunch of boys and girls, don't get me wrong, but it's my understanding that you lot work on contract. The Knights of Vale, well, we primarily work in Vale, though it wasn't unheard of for knights-errant to go wandering far afield."
"Knight-errant?" Jaune asked.
"Well, back when there were more of us, there were more knights than there were strictly needed all the time in Vale, so some of us would go wander through other lands. Not so dissimilar to Huntsmen in that respect, though you lot do tend to be outrageously impractical. I mean, the girl here dressed for a ride through the country like she was going for a night out dancing."
"Hey!"
"Oh, shut up, girl. The damn boy's been looking down your dress for the last minute."
"Jaune!" Weiss adjusted the black modesty lace in her bodice before she crossed her arms over her bust, scandalized.
"How could you even tell?" Jaune demanded of the old knight as he raised his visor.
"Ha!" The old man looked entirely too pleased with himself. "You think I was never a young man myself?"
"That's exactly right," Jaune deadpanned. "You formed from the primordial earth as a crotchety old man, ready to be a cantankerous fart from day one."
"Don't sass me, boy," Sir Roland retorted, though his tone had no heat to it. "I think someone just volunteered to walk for the next few miles."
Jaune tried not to sigh as he dismounted, leading Talos by the reins and clattering like a kitchen as he walked.
"Besides, you were wrong anyway. I'm far older than the dirt," the old knight pronounced, his tone lofty and grandiose.
Jaune was still walking when they saw a woman lying in the road, a man leaning over her body and a horse grazing nearby. He swiftly mounted Talos, his armor scarcely interfering with his movements as he urged the horse into a gallop.
"Woah!" he called for his horse to come to a halt as he realized that he recognized the man. "Qrow?"
The grizzled Huntsman looked up, peering curiously. "Kid? What the hell are you doing out here?"
Before Jaune could answer, Sir Roland's cart caught up, with Weiss ready to spring into action. "What happened here? A brigand?" the old man demanded, his tone deadly serious.
"Easy, Sir Roland. This is one of Ozpin's lieutenants," Jaune quickly said.
"And a no-good filthy sister-tempter," Weiss helpfully added.
Qrow looked around him quickly, taking in the sight of Jaune's horse and archaic armor. "Like a damn museum showcase," he muttered. "Look, this woman is extremely important. Ozpin sent me to meet with her, but before I could, she was attacked by unknown means." He indicated the strange, angry scar that had formed on the woman's face. "I drove off her attackers, but they could return at any time. We need to get her to Ozpin ASAP."
"Right," Sir Roland nodded. "Jaune, load her onto the cart. Weiss, take the woman's horse. I'll take care of her until the woman recovers."
Jaune gently picked up the fallen woman and placed her into the back of Sir Roland's cart, doing his best to make a kind of pillow for her out of some blankets that were back there. Qrow hopped into the back with his greatsword drawn and laid out across his knees, ready for action.
"Easy, good girl," Weiss murmured to the woman's horse, a palfrey mare with a beautiful coat of dappled grey. "We're going to take good care of her, okay?" The Atlesian girl stroked the mare's snout before climbing into the saddle.
"We ride hard for Beacon," announced Sir Roland. "Keep a wary eye for trouble."
True to Roland's word, they tore up the road at a quick gallop, with Jaune ahead of the cart and to the left, and Weiss ahead and to the right. Jaune was a bit surprised that Sir Roland's docile draft horse was up to pulling the cart that fast for that long, but it seemed that both the tired old horse and the tired old knight had found some vigor in their urgency. The miles melted away before them, and it wasn't long before they overtook the cabbage farmer, who barely got out of the way in time to spare his produce the indignity of a second spillage.
"Around the city!" Qrow called out, as the towers of Vale came into view. "Straight to Beacon!"
They rode hard up the mountain road that led directly to the fortress Beacon itself. Ozpin himself was there to greet them, along with a team of paramedics. Jaune and Weiss rode to the side, allowing Sir Roland's cart to slow to a halt just before the assembled medics. The team quickly loaded the unconscious woman onto a gurney, and hustled her towards the infirmary.
The Wizard of Beacon let out a long sigh, and for just a moment, Jaune saw a sort of age on the man's face, the bone-deep weariness of eons. "Thank you for your assistance, Sir Roland," he said, addressing the old knight first.
"It's nothing. When the girl wakes up, tell her that we're taking care of her horse at my stables."
"Of course. Qrow, a word?"
The man's lieutenant had already disembarked from the cart, sheathing his greatsword as he approached Ozpin. The Headmaster nodded to his students and the elderly knight before turning to follow the medics, Qrow at his side.
"Well, not bad for a quick day's patrol," said Sir Roland. "All right, boy, let's get these horses cooled down. They did good work today."
"I'll help with our guest," Weiss volunteered.
"Fair enough. Let's get a move on."
The trio made their way back down towards Vale, walking their horses at a much more leisurely pace than their earlier frenetic run. They ambled over to the du Rendal ranch, pulling into the main courtyard. Rowan was there, an eyebrow quirked.
"You left with two horses, and came back with three?"
"Aye," Sir Roland waved absently. "We came across a girl injured in the road, someone that Headmaster Ozpin knows. We'll be taking care of the horse until she's able to reclaim her."
"And she's just a good girl," Weiss cooed as she dismounted the grey palfrey. "Very sweet and well-mannered." She patted the horse's neck fondly.
"Right," the knight began. "Girl, do me a favor and take care of Rocinante here. Didn't know the old boy still had that much run left in him. The Princess here volunteered to take care of our guest, while the boy gets Talos set."
The teenage granddaughter rolled her eyes, having already brought a light wooden stair, a mounting block, over to the cart, allowing Sir Roland to climb down more easily. "Yes, Grandpa."
"Don't backtalk, girl, you know the deal by now."
Jaune had begun taking the equipment off of his destrier. "Well, not bad for a few hours of work," he said to the horse. "You stomped on some Grimm, stomped on some cabbages, and we rescued a damsel in distress." Jaune winced as he gave his phrasing a second thought. "Well, we showed up a bit late and got the damsel in distress to medical attention." Talos huffed at him while Jaune filled up a bucket and brought a cloth over to him. "Well, there was a damsel and we helped. The point still stands."
Talos huffed again, clearly skeptical.
"Everyone's a critic."
Weiss eyed him as she similarly attended to the wounded woman's horse. He looked so natural there, a slight smile on his face as his own horse criticized his performance. This is where her Jaune belonged.
The realization hit her like a truck.
This is where Jaune belonged, in the forests and farmlands of Vale, in a land green and flush with life. He belonged in the nation of his birth, surrounded by the countrymen who held both his family name and himself, personally, in such high esteem. He belonged in the verdant land full of the warm people who brought him such joy.
She couldn't take him away from that. She couldn't take him with her.
Just as Jaune had his duty, his people, so too did Weiss have hers. She would one day need to wrest control of the Schnee Dust Company away from her father. That position could grant her the power to radically alter the lives of everyone in the Kingdom of Atlas, such was the central import of the Dust trade. She could bring justice, prosperity, and security to the downtrodden masses whom her father had exploited for all that they were worth. With the sheer impact of the SDC's policies, other companies would be forced to follow suit.
It was her duty, and her destiny. But she couldn't bring Jaune. She couldn't bring him back to that sterile land of ice and snow, with its cold winds and colder hearts. Not back to the site of his worst atrocities, to the place of his nightmares where Ironwood had turned him into a murderer.
Jaune would do so much for her sake, to a degree that took her breath away. Weiss could not, in good conscience, make any less of a sacrifice for him.
This meant that their time together at Beacon would be the most time that they would ever have together.
Her vision blurred as tears welled in her eyes.
"Weiss?" Jaune asked, concerned.
She threw herself into his arms, unheeding of the thick plates of cold steel that separated her from him. "I love you," she murmured into his armored chest. "I love you so much, Jaune Arc."
"Hey, hey, it's all right," he soothed her, stroking her long white hair with his gauntleted hand. "I'm here. We're both fine. The woman will be seen to, and she'll recover just fine." His armor creaked as she clutched onto him with all of her might.
"Don't ever forget that I love you," she croaked, the tears running down the front of his armor.
"How could I ever forget? Loving you saved my soul."
Weiss fell silent then, clutching onto her knight as if some force threatened to snatch him away from her. She never wanted to let him go.
[/]
The second semester of their first year at Beacon would be starting in a few days. While Teams RWBY and JNPR had been put on a break to recuperate following their intensive training, not all of the teens responded to idleness in the same way. So, while Jaune and Weiss were out playing with horses, two of their friends had agreed to meet in a private training room to...hash things out.
"Are you sure about this?" Pyrrha asked as she stretched, getting ready for a fight.
"I'm always down for a good time." Yang shadowboxed, getting the blood flowing to her limbs. She smirked at her opponent. "You know you've been wanting this for a long time, don't pretend like you haven't."
Pyrrha met Yang's expression with a wild grin of her own. "Well, don't blame me when you end up taken down a peg or two."
Yang hit the button that brought up their respective Aura levels on the monitor. "Well, anytime you're ready to go, Pumpkin Spice."
The champion's emerald green eyes narrowed at the other girl. "Oh, you're going to regret that one."
The blonde bomber cocked her shotgun gauntlets. "Come and get me."
A miniature Great War erupted in the training room.
Yang put up a pretty good fight, but then Pyrrha took her by surprise by dropping her shield and body-checking the blond against a wall. The two girls stared daggers at one another, panting so heavily that they shared breath as Pyrrha pinned Yang against the wall.
"Surrender," demanded Pyrrha, her heart beating wildly in her chest.
Yang's face was flush with exertion, or maybe something else, her eyes red and defiant. "Make me."
With magnetic power, Pyrrha took hold of Yang's wrists and pinned them up over her head, against the wall. At the same time, she reached up and grabbed Yang's long, fiery blonde hair, yanking the other girl's face towards her own.
Pyrrha tasted cinnamon as she kissed her.
They were engaging in an entirely different form of combat as Pyrrha deepened the kiss, sending her tongue deep into the blonde girl's mouth while reaching down to heft her up by the thighs. Yang wrapped her legs around Pyrrha's narrow waist, moaning as the champion began to buck against her, hips working in a primordial rhythm.
Pyrrha growled as she worked herself against the blonde's sensitive places. She would show her. She would conquer the fiery dragoness, plunder her again and again, take her pleasure from dominating her and -
Her blood ran cold as it hit her what she was doing.
In her shock, she pulled away from Yang and released her grip, both physical and magnetic. She let the girl fall on her butt with an unceremonious thud.
"Ow! Hey, what -" Yang cut off as she saw that, for some reason, the girl who had just been rocking her socks off had backed away from her as if she'd just seen a ghost. "Uh...are you okay?"
Pyrrha quickly gathered up her weapons with shaky hands, before turning and outright fleeing from the training room. "I'm sorry!" she called as she ran out of the door.
Yang was left sitting on the floor, a roiling storm of mixed emotions. She was puzzled by Pyrrha's strange behavior, absolutely turned on by how she had pinned her against a wall and shoved her tongue down her throat, she was wet as October, and more than a little peeved that the beautiful Mistrali girl had revved up her engines and just left her idling, with no explanation.
"What the fuck?!"
[/]
Blake fidgeted as she waited outside of Ozpin's office. She knew that she hadn't done anything wrong - not lately, at least - and had been more than a little puzzled when she had received a message on her Scroll, one that had told her, and only her, to report to the Headmaster's office. Then, if all that hadn't been strange enough, she had been left waiting in the seating area outside of the office proper for half an hour, again, with no explanation.
The elevator chimed, and the Headmaster himself strode into the chamber. "Ah, Miss Belladonna. My apologies for the tardiness. One of my people was injured in the field, and needed to be taken to receive treatment."
Blake relaxed as the Headmaster gave a reasonable explanation for the delay. "That's okay, sir. I am a bit puzzled as to why I'm here, though."
Ozpin opened the door to his office, and gestured for Blake to take a seat. "Well, I believe that I have an assignment for which your particular talents would be well-suited."
She crossed her arms. "I'm not assassinating anyone," she said, her ears flat.
He blinked. "Assassin - what? No! I was referring to your abilities as a spy!"
Blake's kitty ears perked back up as her posture relaxed. "Oh. I thought you wanted me to murder someone for you."
"You really need to learn to stop assuming the worst of people, Miss Belladonna," Ozpin replied, his tone dry.
"Can't be let down if you don't have high expectations."
"No, but your poor opinion of others could lead them to having a poor opinion of you," the Headmaster retorted.
"Well, worrying about the opinions of others is a good way to be led astray."
"Miss Belladonna, you wouldn't be here if not for an effort to improve the opinions of others regarding your people."
She narrowed her amber eyes at him. "You must be absolute murder at the negotiating table."
He smiled cheekily before taking a sip from his mug. "Young lady, you have no idea." Ozpin dropped the grin and sighed. "To business, then. One of my field agents has brought to my attention a particular issue regarding students from Haven Academy potentially being infiltrated by individuals working for The Enemy. To that end, I would ask of you to discreetly monitor the students arriving from Mistral, and report any suspicious behavior to either myself or Miss Goodwitch."
Blake sat back in her chair. "Is Sun Wukong a suspect?"
Ozpin frowned. "He is from Haven Academy, and his arrival was most unorthodox. I cannot rule him out as a potential suspect at this time."
She was already shaking her head. "I doubt it. Sun's too much of a dork to be an evil secret spy. Besides, he was in the room when we were figuring out that someone was trying to take out Vale, but he was too busy pissing off Miss Goodwitch to pay attention."
"Be careful, Miss Belladonna. You would not be the first to be taken in by a pretty face."
The cat Faunus blushed. "It...It isn't like that!"
Ozpin quirked an eyebrow at her. "Of course not," he said, his tone reasonable. "I'm sure that my vast experience teaching hormonal, superpowered teenagers is of no particular relevance here."
Blake's flush deepened.
"So be wary of the boy, but don't fixate on him to the exclusion of the others. There are going to be quite a few students coming in for the Vytal Festival, after all."
"Right. So, why not have Arc do this? You seem to turn to him all the time anyway."
Ozpin sipped his mug. "That is because I have directed Mister Arc to be entirely unsubtle in his activities in and around campus. I want the eyes of the enemy on him…"
"...so that the rest of us have more freedom to maneuver," Blake finished for him. Ozpin saluted her with his mug, while she just shook her head. "Sir, don't take this the wrong way, but I am deeply impressed with your sneaky and underhanded thinking."
"I believe that I shall take that as a compliment, Miss Belladonna."
[/]
Jaune hadn't the faintest idea what had happened with Weiss, but she was acting as if he was slated for execution the next day, despite his repeated assertions that everything would be fine. He was baffled, and more than a little concerned, especially when she wouldn't say what it was that was bothering her.
Sir Roland had taken notice, and crossed his arms as he regarded the pair of youths. "All right, boy, go polish your armor. Girl, stay here for a minute."
He didn't know what the old knight wanted with Weiss, but he figured that maybe his age gave him some insight that he had lacked. If it helped her with whatever was bothering her, it would be well worth giving her her space.
Sir Roland watched as the squire walked off to the workshop, his armor clattering all the way, before he turned his gaze on the stricken young woman. "Given the look of apprehension on your face, I'm going to hazard a guess that you've realized just how fragile everything really is."
The young Atlesian girl, looked down to her feet. "I...I can't keep him."
"Keep him? The boy?" Sir Roland scoffed. "What, is someone coming to take him away or something?"
"Hey!" Weiss protested, her small fists balled by her side. "This is serious! I just…" her voice softened as she composed herself. "This is where he belongs. Where he can be happy and free and just...everything that he needs to be. But I'm going to have to leave him behind someday." She fidgeted, rolling her boot in the soft grass. "When I came here, I thought that I would be able to return, and he would be a soldier in the service of Atlas. I would be able to make a life with him. But I'm going to need to take control of my family's company. To make life better for hundreds of thousands of people who would otherwise be left to suffer."
"And was this some decree from on high?" the old knight asked. "Did the Brother Gods descend from wherever they fucked off to in order to say that you, personally, had to do this? Or that you had to do it in the way that you're expecting to, leaving the boy behind?"
"Well…"
"Besides, sounds to me like that's a ways off. There's every possibility that one or the other of you dies before it even becomes an issue, especially with the damn boy picking fights with Huntsmen-killers."
Weiss blanched. The old man was perhaps not the best at offering assurance. He sighed, changing tack.
"Look, girl. The future will be what the future will be. No one knows for certain. I, for one, never expected to be this old, figuring that I'd go out like other knights did, in a blaze of glory."
"Why didn't you?" Weiss winced as she realized that her question was insensitive, but he waved her off.
"My wife died."
"The Grimm?"
"Cancer. Long, slow way to go. Didn't want to leave her to fight it on her own. I was with her the whole way, even when my boy went off with Jaune's father on their grand crusade. Always wondered if things might have been different if I'd gone with him...but I couldn't bring myself to leave my Eleanor."
"I'm sorry."
"Why? You didn't kill him. Then, when my youngest went off to Mountain Glenn...I never saw it coming. Didn't think the whole damn city would fall. He fell with it, as a knight should. All I had left were the horses and a little granddaughter who needed someone. Rowan's near grown, and I figured I'd just slip off somewhere warm to lay down and die when she didn't need me anymore, when lo and behold, Gil's dumbass boy reappears out of the aether, needing someone to guide him. My last squire, and possibly my greatest." He looked down at her then, a wry smile on his face. "Of course, you can't let him know that I said that, at least not until I've passed. It'd go to the boy's head something awful."
"Of course," Weiss agreed, with a conspiratorial smile.
"Point is, girl, I never thought I'd outlive my Eleanor, or my boys. Then, I never thought I'd take on another squire, at eighty years old. I never thought I'd have hope to see the Knights of Vale reborn." He paused as he contemplated the possibility. "I probably won't live to see them revived to their full splendor, though I refuse to kick it until I at least see my girl married off and the boy win his spurs. Ultimately, borrowing trouble from the future keeps you from appreciating what you have now. So, maybe you'll be the heiress of that big company, like you said. Maybe you'll try to leave the boy behind, and he'll chase after you all the way to Atlas. Maybe you'll tell that company to stick it, and settle here in Vale, and you and the boy become the next King and Queen of the whole damn country. Gods know you ride well enough to be of Vale. I keep telling the boy that you can't possibly be Atlesian, not with a talent for the saddle like that."
"Hey!" protested Weiss.
"What? It was a compliment! If you do end up making little baby Arcs with the boy, they're gonna be goddamn prodigy riders, that's for damn sure. Anyways, let's get back to it. My damn back is killing me, and I need to make sure that the boy isn't too comfortable. Are you feeling better?"
"A bit, yes," she admitted. "Thank you."
"Ah, it's what I'm here for," the old man waved her off.
"What was she like? Your wife?" Weiss asked.
"Eleanor? Fiercest woman you'd ever meet in all the world." His eyes lit up as he remembered his long-deceased wife. "She once rode bare-breasted all the way from one side of Vacuo to the other."
"No!"
"Ha!" Sir Roland cackled at the memory. "She had windburn something awful, but the troops were dazzled…"
Jaune wasn't sure what the old man had said to Weiss, but when the pair entered the workshop, she was laughing at some story that the knight was spinning, her eyes bright with mirth. He nodded his gratitude to the old man, who merely grinned as he swore up and down that his wife had once grabbed a Vacuoan bandit king by the balls and refused to let go until he called off an attack on a town.
Weiss sat down on the bench next to him and rested her head gently on his shoulder as he cleaned his armor. Her posture was of relaxed affection, not the anxious desperation with which she had clung to him earlier.
"Hi," she murmured, her eyes closed and a gentle smile on her face.
"Hello, angel."
[/]
Medusa hadn't been expecting any visitors that afternoon, which is why it took her by surprise when her daughter appeared on her doorstep, crying her eyes out. So, she did what she always had done when her little Pyri was upset, sitting on a couch and pulling the girl into her embrace.
"What is it?" she asked.
Pyrrha looked up into her mother's eyes. Her mother, who had always loved her with all of her heart. How could she possibly repay that love by letting her know that she had given birth to the same sort of evil that had so terrorized her in her youth? It would destroy her to know that her daughter was a monster.
The mother had no idea why her precious baby girl went even further into broken sobs after staring into her eyes, but it didn't matter. She trusted that Pyrrha would tell her in her own time, and in the meantime, she just held her close, stroking her hair.
[/]
Yang was more than a little frustrated, having failed to find Pyrrha anywhere. Ren and Nora hadn't seen her at all that day, Jaune and Weiss were off playing knight and princess, and Blake was off somewhere, no doubt doing perverted kitty things with the blonde boy whom she swore she had nothing going on with, but spent all her free time with anyway. It occurred to her that everyone had someone special, except for her, and that just made Yang feel more inadequate. Maybe that's what it was? Pyrrha had realized that it was her that she was kissing, and felt disgust? Maybe she'd seen in her whatever Ugly it was that made her mother abandon her at birth?
Well, at least Ruby was in the same boat as her. They could hang out together and throw things at the annoying couples doing annoying couple things. The last she'd checked, Ruby was doing robotics stuff in a small workshop just off the main forge. It would be unbearably dorky, but at least having some sister time would get her mind off of stupid Pyrrha, with her stupid kisses and her stupid face and her stupid hands on her thighs.
Yang made an effort to wipe the scowl off of her face and pasted a bright, happy smile before kicking the door open. "Wassup, sis! It's your what the hell is happening here?!" Yang's cheerful greeting gave way to a furious interrogative as she saw her sister jerk her hands back away from that robot girl, who was only wearing her underwear.
"Greetings, Friend Yang!" Penny waved cheerfully at the abruptly red-eyed blonde girl. "How are you today?"
"What do you think you're doing with my sister, you robo-skank?!"
"Yang!" Ruby protested, but Yang ignored her.
Penny, for her part, just canted her head curiously. "What is a 'robo-skank?'"
Yang made a sound that was half scream and half growl before she darted forwards, grabbing Ruby by the ear.
"Ow! Yang! It's not what you think!"
"Oh, I'm sure it isn't, with this harlot corrupting you!"
"Friend Yang, Friend Ruby isn't corrupted! I don't know that you can corrupt organic operating systems."
"Quiet, you!" Yang dragged Ruby out of the room by her ear, prompting Penny to quickly dress and follow after them.
"Friend Yang, I do believe that you are causing Friend Ruby distress," Penny said, unsure as to what Yang was doing to her sister.
Yang growled. "Yeah, well, a little distress might be good for her right now." Yang dragged the protesting Ruby over to the small airship hangar where their uncle kept the Corvid's Claw. She marched right up to the side of it and started banging on the hatch. It slid open a few seconds later, revealing a disheveled and annoyed-looking Qrow Branwen.
"What, what's wrong?" he asked.
"I just found your niece, alone in a room, with her hands on a girl wearing nothing but her underwear!" Yang declared, waiting for her uncle to be the responsible adult and lay down the law.
Instead, Qrow just fist-bumped the younger sister, adding "Nice," as congratulations.
"Qrow!" Yang yelled.
"What?" the man looked at her, then Ruby, then the robot girl. "Well, did she do anything you didn't want her to?" he asked. Ruby shook her head. "Did you do anything to her that she didn't want you to?"
"Friend Ruby is always welcome to assist in core maintenance functions of my hardware! Her natural talent combined with her slender fingers make such tasks a breeze!" Penny chirped, happy as ever.
"So...what's the problem here?" Qrow asked Yang.
"It's...it's Ruby!" Yang protested.
Qrow just shrugged. "And?"
"And it's...it's Ruby!" she repeated.
Ruby shrugged her way out of her sister's grip. "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
"You're not supposed to -"
"Why?" Ruby's tone turned sharp. "I'm allowed to have friends! Even more than friends if I want! You're just trying to ruin things for me because now that we're here and not at Signal, people here like me and not you!"
Yang's eyes shifted from red back to violet as she blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You're just mad because here at Beacon, no one is going nuts over you because you're pretty and have big bazooms. You're mad that they're calling you out for annoying them! Just because no one wants to be around you, that doesn't mean that you can try to make me feel bad!" She stepped away from her sister, taking Penny by the hand. "Come on, Penny. If we hurry, we can get the second Aura drive mechanism fixed before tonight."
"Of course, Friend Ruby!"
Yang stared at her sister as she walked off with the orange-haired robot girl. She wasn't crying. She wasn't!
"Whelp. That just happened." Qrow said, slapping her on the back. "Ya done fucked up, Firecracker."
The blonde just took a deep breath, a long sigh, making sure that her eyes were dry before turning to her uncle. "Don't suppose you can tell me where you hid my tires now, could you?"
"Not until I'm sure you're sorry for messing with my ship," he said. "Now, if you're done with the teenage angst, I've got real problems to deal with."
Yang felt very much alone as she left the hangar.
[/]
He had been well-trained in picking out targets, and Cinder had provided pictures of each of the students that Ozpin favored. The Nikos woman had possibilities, but spending any significant amount of time around her could tip them off to his metal prostheses, a hidden trick that could pay off dividends later. The ex-terrorist girl was probably on shaky ground with her human friends, but as a human himself, he wasn't in the optimal position to exploit that opening. The Schnee girl was head-over-heels for Ozpin's new protege, and he didn't see much opening between them to wreak havoc.
Then he saw the blonde chick walking on campus. Alone. She was obviously distraught, but didn't want to show it. Her jacket had puffed-up sleeves, a subconscious ploy to make her seem larger and more threatening, the sign of an insecure prey trying to frighten off attackers. She sat alone at a bench, just staring off at the horizon, suggesting some sort of emotional turmoil.
Mercury Black smirked. Insecurity, emotional issues, and separate from the pack, the sweet scent of a prime target. He allowed himself to smirk like a shark smelling blood in the water, before schooling his expression into something much more earnest and non-threatening.
He did love his work.
[/]
With his armor polished to Sir Roland's satisfaction - though the cantankerous old man still complained that his squire refused to give him reason to make him do it all over again - Jaune and Weiss prepared to head back to Beacon before the sun began to set. Before they left, Sir Roland pulled his squire aside.
"All right, boy, listen up. I don't know if I'm going to make it long enough to see your wedding day, so I'm just going to tell you the same thing I told your father the day he married your mother."
"Don't say that. I'm sure you've still got years left, sir."
"At my age, that sounds like a threat, boy. Now shut up and listen. Marriage is a partnership, a deeper one than the one that that school assigned you, even a deeper one between a knight and his horse. She's your partner in everything you do, in every aspect of your life. Help shoulder her burdens, and allow her to help you with yours in turn. You're going to have fights. It's only natural. Don't go to bed angry. Don't go on a mission without making peace with her beforehand. Your vows to her are the most important that you'll swear in your entire life. Don't break them, or so help me, I will rise from the grave and kick your ass halfway to Vacuo, boy. Bliss is great, but it fades. Being content with one another is what keeps a marriage alive over decades, and that means that you keep trying, just as much when you're old and grey as you are now, when you're young and hormonal. Laugh together. Always assume the best of her, and don't try to keep your feelings bottled up from her. Make love frequently -"
Jaune coughed awkwardly, causing Sir Roland to swat him upside the head.
"Shut up, boy, this is golden advice, you daft bastard. Where was I? Oh, right. Make love frequently, even after having children, and every time you do, make love with her as if it was your last night alive in this world. Hell, in our profession, it just might be. Be honest about your plans, hopes, finances, all of it. Secrets kill marriages."
"This is all great, sir, but I'm sure that you'll be around for a long time yet. Besides, Weiss may not be ready for such a step."
He looked at the squire. "Funny how you assumed that it would be her."
Jaune looked the knight square in the eye. "I would have no one else."
"Well, the girl's lucky that you take after your mother, at least in that respect," muttered Sir Roland. "Still, no telling what's in the future. The Princess there might be the next Lady Arc, sure, but there's no guarantee. Death or duty might part you from one another, and it could come at any time. So make the best of each day, boy, so that if the end does come for you, you can face it with as few regrets as possible."
"I guess that's as much as anyone can do," Jaune mused.
"Damn straight. Now go on, get out of here, boy. And send a message to my granddaughter on that damn doohickey she has before you come during the school day! Don't know how to work the stupid little box thing…"
Jaune smiled as Sir Roland wandered off, griping about the evils of modern telecommunications technology. Weiss was waiting for him at the gate, with Percival rolling in the dirt by her feet. Gods, Weiss was so beautiful, it was painful.
"Jaune? What did he have to - " she yelped as Jaune, without breaking stride, scooped her up and carried her over his right shoulder, the smaller pauldron being more comfortable to rest her on as he continued walking.
"Jaune!" Weiss laughed as she smacked his armored back, which, of course, had no effect whatsoever. "What's gotten into you?"
"What?" he asked, his voice the very essence of innocence. "I am merely the lady's noble steed."
"Yeah you are," Weiss replied, her tone switching to something more sultry. "And it's been weeks since you've given me a good, proper ride, Mister Knight."
Jaune chuckled. "You'll have to pardon me until we can find a more private venue, my lady. It seems as though someone caused some of our neighbors to lodge noise complaints."
"I maintain that that is all your fault," pouted Weiss.
"And how is that? One of us hit a pitch that broke windows, and it wasn't me."
"That thing you did with your tongue. That was your fault"
He laughed. "Well, we still haven't found a way to...carry on while I'm wearing this armor."
"I will pry that off of you with a clawhammer," Weiss growled.
"Someone's impatient," he teased.
"Oh, like I'm the only one. I mean really, Jaune, looking down my dress in public?"
"And just how am I meant to resist, when given the chance to see more of the most beautiful girl in the world? I am powerless before your splendor."
Weiss sighed happily. "I love you, you dork."
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"Excuse me, miss? May I ask you something?"
Yang turned to see some tall, silver-haired guy standing by the bench where she'd been sitting the past half-hour, trying to collect herself. She fought the urge to roll her eyes, or worse, to tell him to just piss off. Maybe that urge was why no one wanted to be around her?
"Yes?" she finally asked. "What is it?"
"Well," the guy looked nervous. "I was wondering if I could possibly...paint you?"
"What?"
"It's nothing weird!" he said quickly, holding his hands out in supplication. "It's just that, well, with the sun starting to go down, your beautiful golden hair stands out wonderfully with the orange in the sky. It stopped me in my tracks when I saw it, and I just have to capture it. Would that be okay with you?"
Well, if it was a pickup line, it was certainly a more sophisticated one than she'd heard in the past. Besides, it wasn't as though she was doing anything more than sitting there feeling sorry for herself anyway.
"Yeah, sure, go ahead."
The boy smiled. "Excellent! Thank you!" He quickly set up an easel and canvas, and began pulling out paints to put on a handheld palette. Within a minute or so, he had begun to paint. "So, do you attend Beacon?" he asked her.
"Sure do. Yang Xiao Long, proud member of Team RWBY," Yang answered. "What about you?"
"The name is Mercury," he said absently, brushstroking the canvas with color. "I go to Haven Academy, in Mistral."
"They teach painting over there in Haven?"
"No, of course not. This is just my hobby. I appreciate beauty, you see, and when I saw you, well, you're just the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Oh, I'm sure you say that to all the girls."
He scoffed. "Hardly. This paint is expensive, you know! Not just anyone is worth busting these bad boys out." Mercury fell silent as he concentrated on his work, glancing over from time to time to compare the canvas with the girl sitting in front of him.
For her part, Yang was trying not to blush. Either this guy was a complete dork who really did just see her as beautiful, or he was the single smoothest operator she'd ever seen. Whatever he was, a bit of flattery was just what the doctor ordered.
After a bit, the silver haired boy stepped back from the canvas, giving it a once-over. "All right, come take a look."
Yang hopped off the bench, curious about what the visitor from Mistral had seen. She gasped as she saw the painting. She was beautiful! The portrait was from the shoulders up, and her golden hair shimmered against the rich reds and orange of the sunset. Her eyes glittered like amethysts, with just the hint of a coy smile teasing the corner of her lips.
Absently, her hand touched her own cheek, disbelieving that she was the gorgeous girl depicted in the portrait. Was this how this boy saw her? With not a hint of the Ugly anywhere?
"I did my best, but it's impossible for artists to truly capture the beauty of such a subject," mused Mercury. "A pale imitation at best."
"Mercury, it's amazing!" Yang gushed. "You're so talented!"
Before he could answer, his Scroll chimed. "Excuse me," he said politely, before checking it. Yang chewed her lower lip. Talented and polite? And not bad to look at either…
"Well, that was the boss," he said, apologetically. "I kinda got sidetracked, and I'm late for a team meeting. Would it be okay if we met again later?" he asked, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. "If you want, of course. I mean, not to make it weird," he began babbling.
Yang put a finger on his lips. "Shh." She put a note with her Scroll number on it into his hand. "Call me, okay?"
She smiled as she looked at the boy's retreating form, and back at the portrait. She'd give Pyrrha one last chance to explain herself, but if she didn't like what she had to say, well…
It was just nice to have options.
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Chapter Endnotes: Did I end the previous chapter where I did for the sole purpose of opening this one up with "My cabbages!"? Yes. Yes, I did. I regret nothing.
Spies and Maidens and mischief, oh my!
Young adults are prone to be dramatic and angsty. Weiss was getting spun up about future problems that she sees as having an inevitable conclusion. Pyrrha thinks that she's a rapist like her father. Yang took Pyrrha's sudden about-face as a judgement about her. Hormonal puberty Ruby wants to play doctor with the sexy robot girl. Sometimes, older mentors can help clear things up, but for others, they're just going to have to bumble through it. Wisdom is born of experience, after all.
I've been exploring the characters by looking at potential flaws that aren't necessarily crippling, but are nonetheless present. We all know about Yang's temper, but making her a bit overbearing, nosey, and annoying due to her insecurity was an interesting approach to me. Those traits have natural consequences - her friends all preferring to spend time with other people - and that hits her as being a confirmation of her inherent inadequacy. It doesn't make strictly rational sense, but people, especially young people, don't always make strictly rational decisions, especially when emotional.
All of which leaves her open for a predator. If you lot have a Yang Protection Squad, this would be the time.
Sir Roland's memory of his wife, Eleanor, is based off of a line from the play The Lion in Winter, in which Eleanor of Acquitaine reminisces about her time on Crusade. "I dressed my maids as Amazons and rode bare-breasted halfway to Damascus. Louis had a seizure, and I damn near died of windburn, but the troops were dazzled." Apocryphal - she did participate in the Second Crusade, but that effort, of course, was much less than successful - but Eleanor of Acquitaine was an absolute badass, make no mistake on that.
Hope you enjoyed this (smaller) chapter!
Mahina
