The celebration had been a grand affair. A 'triumph' in the ancient style of Gilania, whose works and deeds continued to inspire nobility and commoners alike, a thousand years after their empire had fallen to ruin. Many Britannians considered themselves the true heirs of that once-great power—they weren't entirely wrong, as Gilanian symbolism was the basis for many of Britannia's own stylings. It was right that the noble children of old Prydain take up such a mantle; they whose ancestors had once resisted, then fallen under the imperial heel, before rising again to become conquerors in their own right. Better they inherit such glories than the current crop of decadent, lazy numbers who dwelled Gilania's old heartland, now Area 2. Such was the thinking, at least.
Regardless, the triumph was unlike anything in living memory; even the fall of Milimac settlement fifteen years before had not warranted quite this much pomp and circumstance. Ten thousand trumpeters marked the parade route, heralding the coming of champions as hundreds of thousands flocked to the sides of the Grand Imperial Road. The entire city of Pendragon turned out for the event, an inevitable logistical nightmare which had been well-prepared for. Vendors had been permitted to set up shop all up-and-down the way; beer halls and cafes stood loudly open and busy. Musicians played heroic tunes and sung tales for the waiting crowd. Side streets had been blocked off, new benches laid out, thousands of portable toilets and water stations provided, a full set of viewing stands erected along seven miles. The City Guardsmen working that day had received a hefty bonus, as well as new uniforms, and stood proudly behind and among the crowd in their distinctive white caps and blue coats. People had begun to gather even the night before along the well-lit road, and the crowds only grew as the moon fell and the sun rose. News teams and helicopters had been granted access, had vied for it with a ferocity that rivaled Britannia's greatest knights, and quickly set up shop.
After several hours of anticipation, a distant horn sounded, and the cheers of the crowd had drowned out everything else as Britannia's best marched past. Legendary units only mentioned in newscasts and whispers rolling along in regal purple, white and gold, banners flying high above them with ceremonial swords, halberds, and rifles held firm in white-gloved hands, stepping in time to the beat of regimental drummers. There was the 1st army's 1st "Lightning" Corps-the tip of the empire's finest spear, which had slaughtered the heathen royal guard-with its great legions; Wolf, Boar, Bull, Lion, and the 1st Armored "Dragon", each with helmets matching their namesake. There was the 2nd "Thunder" Corps-who had weathered the most devastating charges of the war and broken all who faced them-with their jagged yellow capes; the 3rd "Inferno" Corps with their blazing orange sashes, the 4th and blue-feathered "Hurricane" Corps–who had swept an entire army from the plains of Clanoc–and the 5th and green-striped "Riptide" Corps, who had crushed an impenetrable fortress to cross the river Xil. The entire 1st Army of the Empire, the "Emperor's Fist", marched and rode and flew by on parade. Their soaring aircraft doused the crowd in a rain of confetti and candy, while their mighty engines of war trundled along, tanks and artillery and knightmares shaking the earth with their passing. At the front of it all rode the Legendary Glaston Knights-who had helped slay the heathen emperor himself and defeat his monstrous metal titan-holding their lances high, glorious on their landspinners with their freshly-polished parade armor shining in the sun. In front of them, riding high in the back of a white-caped, gilded and brilliantly purple parade knightmare designed and crafted specifically for the occasion, led the woman of the hour herself—conquering hero, the Goddess of Victory and the Grand General of the Empire, Cornelia li Britannia. His sister.
Schneizel allowed himself a smile. This celebration had come together more smoothly than he'd expected, even if it had cost the treasury a good deal of coin and taken up a considerable amount of his personal time. The Empire needed these kinds of ceremonies. They kept morale high, gave its subjects something to celebrate, made them feel each imperial victory was their own. And, this was no mere victory, but something of immense symbolic importance-enough so that he'd been able to easily corral the house of lords to declare it a new empire-wide holiday. The cost of the whole charade was rather arbitrary in the face of the benefits to morale, and would in any case be blunted by the considerable percentage that vendors were paying for the opportunity to do business during the parade.
Of course, he wasn't solely doing this for the empire's sake. Its glory was the primary reason, naturally. That said, as the many thousands of soldiers marched their way into Pendragon's massive Saint Alwin's Plaza, filing past the tiered stands where the well-to-do capital elite, esteemed clerics, and other dignitaries perched in their high boxes(reasonably priced, considering, but still costing a king's ransom for those without a direct imperial invitation—yet more funds for the treasury), and as the chief representatives of Britannia's Military gathered on their great stage to welcome home their conquering general, as the soldiers fell into ranks and saluted their commander with roars of approval, Schneizel's eyes had fallen on the lavender-haired woman ascending the stairs towards her rightful place upon the stage. He'd been watching through opera glasses from his own perch out-of-the-way and high above the proceedings; a private 15th floor balcony off of the great Imperial Stewards' Brotherhood building, where on other days he occasionally took tea. He would have been well within his rights as prime minister to take a spot down on the stage beside all the generals and admirals had he been so inclined, but it was not a day on which Britannia's White Prince intended to steal the limelight, low as those odds might be. Today belonged to his sister. She had more than earned this glory.
Of course, as with the glory from any victory, the High Command would take its own share. Cornelia was the Empire's greatest and foremost general, wielding the single most powerful fighting force it had ever created. But, masterful as she was at handling tactics and planning operations in the field, grand strategy and the cumbersome gears of national logistics were not her forte, and besides-no one person could hope to organize a leviathan like the assembled armies of the empire on their own. No, Cornelia led from the front, and was not overfond of hobnobbing for hobnobbing's sake or ladder-climbing politics, which had long put her higher in Schneizel's eyes than certain others who wore those command stars. Indeed, the arduous task of attending parties and meetings while handling paperwork and lobbying for budget proposals fell on the shoulders of the noble and virtuous His Imperial Majesty's Military High Command, some of whom had taken the chance to climb onto the stage below and bathe in the shared sunlight of conquering glory.
From the Ground Force, Lord High Marshal of the Armies Freiderich vo Britannia, 4th Prince of the empire—known as the Iron Prince, both for his legendary discipline and equally renowned emotional and social rigidity—and Gaius ce Britannia, 5th prince, Conqueror of the North, Chief of the Imperial General Staff and former darling of the imperial army; he who'd swept into Milimac years ago on the back of a white stallion, red cape flaring, golden sword in hand, the picture of humility. Both had done their part in this latest campaign, it was true. Supplies had not run out for even a day on Freiderich's watch; the man had an almost supernatural gift for logistics. Gaius had rallied the lords of the realm and kept them all enthusiastic about the war, where necessary. He'd also made personally certain that grieving noble widows, daughters, mothers—and occasionally widowers, sons, and fathers—had been thoroughly and intimately comforted, which Schneizel supposed must have done some small thing for morale. Then there were the representatives of the Navy, present though there had truly been almost nothing for them to contribute to the deep jungle war in Irahuataz. Their members included Lord High Admiral of the Navy Theresa vo Britannia, the 4th and "Silver" Princess—Freiderich's twin sister and hated rival, altogether his festive, hedonistic and bloodthirsty opposite, uninterested in naval affairs but having aggressively insisted on holding nothing less than an equal and opposite position to Freiderich—and the woman who actually ran the navy, First Sea Lord Naomi Dargon, who had no relation to Schneizel, Cornelia, or the emperor whatsoever. Neither did Sir Matthias Thrawn, the current Grand Admiral of the Empire and the commander of the High Seas Fleet, who Schneizel had arranged to be present both due to his personal renown and his comradery with Cornelia. The man was so successful that many chose to forget that he had, before being elevated to knighthood through sheer unrivaled competence, been a Number—a Three, to be exact.
Lastly, the Air Force, who had genuinely participated in the war, had a few in attendance. Lord High Marshal of the Sky and 7th Princess Helia di Britannia, "The Ace of Aces", accompanied by Chief of the Air Staff Dame Leonia Tavira—a pair who Schneizel was fairly certain were spending their nights together in secret, but hadn't seen the point of prying—had come, though they had spent more time at the beach than in the office or on the battlefield of late. Next to them stood those integral and genuinely capable two who had organized the air campaign and pinned the armies of Irahuataz in place while Cornelia ripped them to shreds, Secretary of the Air Force Lord Wilhuff Tarkin and the Air Force Strike Commander Dame Nataasi Daala. Their contributions had made the whole affair a great deal shorter and less bloody in the long run, if notably brutal in the short term, and Schneizel appreciated that.
The truth of the victory still lay in Cornelia, however—she who had slain the Snake of Tikrun in single combat, she who had cut off and destroyed every last avenue of resistance in that country as easily as if she'd been pruning a rose bush, leaving the most beautiful and valuable parts intact. This was her victory, and they all knew it. If Schneizel had cared to, if he'd had time, he probably could have won as easily as she'd done-but that was the point. He had no time for such things these days. Moreover, in this particular area, he doubted he could do more than match his sister. At the very least the casualties would have been greater-as Schneizel was a strategist, not a frontline warrior who could take the brunt of the damage as she did.
Gaius, being the greatest showboater among them, gave the speech. It was quite rallying. Patriotic, witty, flourishing with pride and glory. Ultimately empty words, preaching the glory of Britannia to its choir, but necessary for the show of it. This celebration was being broadcast across the continent of Albion, after all. Schneizel paid slightly more attention when Gaius eventually got around to the main focus of the night.
"Now you all know—I assume—that one of us here today has served the empire with an unmatched zeal, ability, and integrity! That one of us here has brought us all a great and glorious victory by her actions and has earned the highest esteem of our emperor!" Gaius said. The assembled soldiers roared in assent. In his private perch, Schneizel allowed himself a small frown. He took a sip of a rather rare vintage of Atlantian red—1895, technically an antique—and let the stormclouds at the back of his mind rumble a little longer.
The Emperor had not lifted a finger to help with this ceremony. The Emperor was not even in attendance. It was a markedly strange way of showing esteem.
"And so, 2nd Princess of the Empire, General of the 1st Army, my dear sister, on his majesty's behalf and the behalf of the Empire entire, we have assembled here today to grant to you the Golden Laurels of Triumph, and induct you into His Imperial Majesty's Order of the Laurel—the highest of all military honors! For by your hand the fearsome demons of the jungle were laid low, the golden city of Tikrun captured at long last! Through you, the empire has made this continent whole. You are truly worthy of this astounding commendation. This order has been granted to only a few, throughout our thousand years! Only the bravest, the strongest, the cleverest, the most loyal—only those whose actions will be remembered for all time can claim this wreath! By the divinely blessed Emperor's hand alone is it granted." Gaius continued. Gaius' own golden wreath glittered on his head—the sudden capture of Milimac after decades of fruitless siege had prompted the emperor to grant the honor back then, as it had been an unlikely and daring act. An entirely different era… the throne was rarely empty in those days.
When Schneizel had put forward his recommendation of Cornelia—highly unusual, making a recommendation, these things were meant to be decisions made solely by the monarch—the Emperor had signed the paper as if it were just another sheet of administrative grist. He'd looked at it for less than half a minute. All he'd said was, "Going soft, Schneizel? Eh, well. I suppose she hasn't managed to fail this time. Do as you will."
And Schneizel almost lost control. For a moment, standing there in front of the Emperor, who had already moved on to other paperwork he found distasteful, memories had flooded the front of Schneizel's mind. Cornelia, a bright young guard captain throwing herself into the fight ten years ago when she'd heard the news from Dawn, begging for the chance to lead. Cornelia, who'd burned her way through half a kingdom with desperate fury and newfound might. Cornelia, who'd gone toe-to-toe with the unknown Mistralian adversary and would have broken them completely, had their allies not intervened. Cornelia, who had returned empty-handed but victorious, conqueror of a vast new territory, only for the Emperor to publicly scold her for failing to finish the job. Anguish did not suit her face. Disciplined or no, triumphant Goddess of Victory or no, the emperor's judgement had nearly brought her to tears—in front of the whole court, no less. The hurt in her eyes had burned its way into Schneizel's mind that day in a way that would probably never leave. But he bit his tongue, and said nothing.
She had deserved a triumph then. She deserved a triumph now. So, now that he had the chance, he'd given it to her. He could see some of the joy he'd sought for, some of the contentment in her eyes, and in the lines on her face. Even now, her smile was not quite the proud, buoyant expression of the young champion she'd been. Still, as she spoke to her men, congratulating them on the victory for the glory of the emperor, and as the Archbishop came forward and crowned her with Golden Laurels, she seemed proud. Happy.
Schneizel stayed there awhile longer, sipping his wine as his siblings and attendants took their seats on the stage, with Cornelia in a gold-and-velvet throne, slightly higher than the rest. The army began to murmur, then to stomp their feet in rhythmic time, as the legions began to sing the song of their campaign. It was an ancient tradition, and not unpleasant; each cohort took its turn singing its own deeds. This would take some time. Schneizel had other things to attend to, final party arrangements to make, but he stayed until his glass was empty. With a last glance through the opera glasses at Cornelia's smiling face, he slipped through the doorway, back into the role of His Majesty's Prime Minister—the White Prince of Britannia.
A familiar shape waited by the door of Schneizel's hidden office. Light brown hair, slightly-too-small nose, and otherwise unremarkable features including the dull brown eyes and lanky frame stuffed dutifully into a plain black suit and tie. The only remotely identifiable feature to be found was a small golden tie pin in the shape of an I, glittering in the dark field of its black cloth perch.
"Lucian. You're early." Schneizel said. Lucian ce Britannia, 6th prince of the Empire, Minister of Intelligence and master of His Imperial Majesty's Holy Inquisition, inclined his head in a curt nod.
"Quiet morning. We appear to have cleared up the main concerns around the plaza yesterday; Izard's managing things for now. Thought I'd get a head start on business." Lucian replied.
"Indeed." Schneizel said, taking a seat at his desk and gesturing for Lucian to do the same. "So, little brother, what news from Saint Cichol's Crypt?"
"Little of note." Lucian said, easing stiffly into his chair. He slid an unmarked envelope across the desk. "Here are the details, if you require further information. Atlas continues to sniff after our agents in Mistral, the provinces of Zhonguo and Mengu in particular. The subversives and the Grimm in the northwestern wilds of Area 11 are less of a threat than they once were, but the situation is unstable; we still suspect outside involvement, though I do not have confirmation. Our operatives have managed to clear the last organized resistance from the eastern coastal cities, so that region at least is secure. Atlas itself remains impregnable, obvious exception aside-no new news on that front. Our investments in Sanus are growing steadily, in both kingdoms and their hinterlands. But I have a concern." Lucian said. Schneizel nodded.
"The situation with Lelouch, I presume." He said. Lucian frowned.
"Yes. I… still do not understand." Lucian said. Schneizel closed his eyes for a moment, holding in a sigh, before meeting his younger half-brother's eyes.
"Trust me when I say, this is by far the most preferable option." Schneizel said.
"But, the risks…" Lucian said. There were many, it was true.
"Have been weighed." Schneizel said. "I've given this subject full consideration, I assure you. There is too much at stake to do otherwise. Continue as planned."
"Oh my gosh—this is unbelievable!" Ruby said.
Pyrrha had to smile at her enthusiasm, and couldn't help but agree. The fairgrounds were absolutely bursting with wildflowers—a flurry of red, violet, orange, and white. There were perks to having a school so close to the high mountains of the Vale, and the flowers were Pyrrha's favorite.
"I don't know if I'd say 'unbelievable', but it is quite pleasant." Weiss commented.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. Put down the blankets already! I'm starving over here!" Nora said.
"I made you scrambled eggs an hour ago." Ren said. Nora pouted.
"Reeeeeneeee, that's different! Second breakfast doesn't count. Especially when it comes to these girls." She said, patting her biceps. Pyrrha didn't doubt it, but laughed anyway.
"Patience, Nora. Our guests aren't even here yet." Pyrrha said.
"Doesn't mean we can't put down the blankets though—plenty of good spots around here." Yang said.
"Now wait just a minute, you can't just throw down a blanket anywhere." Jaune said, an adorable little furrow forming between his eyebrows. "There's an art to these things."
"An art? It's a picnic, Jaune. All about the reeeelaaaaxation." Yang replied, dramatically laying down the beach towel she'd brought.
"Well, yeah, that's why you need to pick the right spot. Not too hot, not too shady, not too many bugs, not too windy. Sun's gonna move—that spot might be good right now, but in an hour? In two hours?" Jaune said. Pyrrha couldn't help but stare, and she wasn't alone.
"You're putting too much thought into this, Jauney boy." Yang said.
"Can't we just get started? This basket's kinda heavy." Ruby said, arms beginning to shake slightly.
"I could take it—" Nora began.
"No." Ren said.
"What? I wasn't going to steal anything." Nora said. Ren looked at her, pointedly. Nora shrugged.
"Okay, yeah, I was going to steal everything. But come on, time's ticking! I need food!" Nora said. They began to bicker, in their way, and Pyrrha couldn't help but smile. Weiss went over to Ruby, and grabbed one of the basket's handles. The red-hooded girl looked immensely relieved and smiled gratefully, but her cheer faded slightly as she looked more closely at her companion.
"You're kinda quiet, Weiss." Ruby said.
"This… this is my first real picnic." Weiss said back, so softly Pyrrha almost didn't hear her. The words struck unexpectedly deep. Before she had a moment to dwell on that, though, her thoughts were interrupted.
"I hope we aren't too late." A familiar voice said—Pyrrha turned to see Lelouch, and his two companions. They all looked surprisingly tired; Suzaku had dark bags under his eyes, and Kallen's hair was notably more disheveled than usual, lacking even her characteristic headband. Only Lelouch looked put-together. It was strange to see them out-of uniform; Lelouch in particular looked younger than she'd expected in a red jacket, grey pants, and inexplicably skin-tight black turtleneck shirt that Pyrrha forced herself to look away from immediately, though not quite before she could glance down at the faint outline of his abs. Kallen had a rumpled yellow shirt and shorts, Suzaku a tan long-sleeved shirt and jeans. The outfits were jarringly casual for an imperial prince and his entourage.
"Not to worry—we've only just begun." Pyrrha replied, smiling. "Is your other teammate coming as well?" She asked. Lelouch sighed.
"She may already be here. It's difficult to say." Lelouch said. "Greetings Ruby, Weiss."
"Hi Lelouch!" Ruby said. Weiss nodded, and didn't seem happy about it. Recalling their talk at the table the day before, Pyrrha realized this was probably going to be awkward—best to not let the subject of the infiltration come up.
"I don't think we've met." Blake said, crossing over to offer Lelouch her hand. "I'm Blake."
"Yes—you were part of the greeting party, if I'm remembering right." Lelouch said, smiling as he shook her hand. "I don't think we've all formally met—I imagine you all know, but I'm Lelouch."
"Suzaku. It's nice to meet everyone." Suzaku said, waving a small wave.
"Kallen." Kallen said, nodding.
"I'm Yang! Ruby's big sister." Yang said from her laid-back spot on the towel, eyeing them up with a grin.
"I'm Nora, this is Ren." Nora said, patting Ren on the head.
"I'm Jaune! It's nice to meet you again." Jaune said.
"So, shall we begin?" Lelouch said, holding up a large basket.
The (probably) eleven of them settled in, with Yang begrudgingly following them to a spot Jaune deemed best. Pyrrha couldn't deny that it made her heart beat a little faster, seeing him so confident, with his sunlit hair shining like gold… and, goodness, that would be such a tremendously cheesy thing to say, even though it was true.
They began to dig in. RWBY and JNPR had mostly packed sandwiches—they had Ren to thank for those—as well as various kinds of chips, some apples Pyrrha had picked up from the store, and some fresh-baked chocolate-chip cookies, courtesy of Yang. Pyrrha had been curious what LCKS had brought, and it seemed like the others had too, but she was not remotely prepared for the contents of their picnic basket.
"Are those… onigiri?" Ren asked. Lelouch flinched. Kallen and Suzaku stared at the home-cooked feast therein, wide-eyed.
"That's tamagoyaki, and kaarage, and takoyaki—goodness." Pyrrha said. All Nihonese dishes she remembered quite well, from the Cherry Blossom Festival picnic she'd had the chance to take part in after a particularly taxing tournament in Edo. "You're quite the cook, Suzaku!" She said.
"No, no, I didn't—" Suzaku began.
"No need to be modest, Suzaku. You're an excellent cook." Lelouch interrupted, tapping out an odd rhythm on the back of his hand. Suzaku blinked, comprehending something.
"Ah, uhm, yes. Thank you." Suzaku said, bowing slightly. He was clearly a bit uncomfortable, however—the boy really did seem quite modest—so Pyrrha decided to help change the subject.
"Have you noticed that the food here in Vale is so, heavy? I'm not sure why they insist on adding butter and cheese to, well, almost everything." Pyrrha said.
"Now that you mention it…" Suzaku said, smiling.
"Hey now! Valeyard dairy is a proud tradition." Jaune said, wagging a finger in their direction.
"Ygeah, ng is fgntasic!" Nora said affirmatively, through a mouthful of ham-and-cheddar sandwich.
"No butter, no cookies." Ruby said, expression severe.
"You can make cookies without butter." Weiss said, matter-of-factly.
"Cookies without butter?" Ruby said, head whipping around to stare at her partner. "Impossible!"
"I've had some too, actually. Butter isn't as common outside of the Vale." Blake said. Ruby continued to stare.
"Now that's just weird. What the heck do people do without butter?" Yang asked, sitting up.
"Live longer, for one thing." Weiss replied.
"Hey!" Yang said, vaguely offended.
"Do they have butter in Britannia?" Jaune asked. It was… such a strange question. Pyrrha had never thought to ask it, and it struck her suddenly that she had no idea what it was Britannians ate. She and the rest of the picnic group turned expectantly to look at LCKS, two thirds of whom turned to look at Lelouch.
"Yes," he said, after a moment, "there is butter in Britannia."
"Huh… you know, I've never had Britannian food. What's it like?" Jaune asked.
"That really depends on the region." Lelouch said, pouring himself a cup of tea. "Where I grew up, it was mostly maize, fish, peppers, limes, and beef. The poorer folk like it heartier, the wealthy and powerful go for style and expense. Everyone loves tea, though."
"Really?" Pyrrha asked, surprised. Tea? In Britannia? "It's the same in Mistral."
"Weirdos." Yang said, shaking her head as she poured a mug of coffee and took a sip. "Drinking your weird leaf juice."
"Says the girl drinking hot bean juice." Blake said, sipping her tea. Yang sputtered, and looked back at her partner.
"Blake? How could you?! I expect this sort of backstabbin from Weiss, not my own partner!" Yang said, eyes wide in exaggerated hurt. Blake rolled her eyes, but smiled.
"Hey!" Weiss protested, crossing her arms.
"You're all crazy. Drinking that weird stuff." Ruby said, popping the tab on a can of Finka-Cola. Pyrrha winced-she'd read about that drink. A whole day's worth of sugar in one serving.
"I dunno, I usually just stick with water. My mom always sai-" Jaune began, before blushing an adorable pink. "Umm, anyway, I didn't know there were different regions in Britannia! I… don't really know much about it, actually. Never even seen a map. They didn't really get to that in school." Jaune said.
"Your school wouldn't know. The Empire likes its secrets." Kallen said, expression stony even as she munched on takoyaki.
"Huh. Weird." Yang said, taking a bite out of her PB&J. "Huh tha hack keps meps secert?"
"The Inquisition." Kallen said, expression clouding further. Pyrrha shuddered at the name–as a child she'd imagined dark clothed figures with cross-shaped daggers slinking through her room, lurking in the shadows, watching her. She'd never seen an inquisitor, of course, but she'd heard the stories. There were people she'd known as a child who had just vanished without warning, and while it was probably Grimm, no one was ever sure. The scary thing was, their agents could have been anyone. Escapees from Nihon talked often about the horrors of the Britannian occupation, were featured regularly on talk shows and radio programs, and the Inquisition was a frequent topic. At least you were safe from the extermination battalion if you didn't live in the western mountains, and you could usually see the police coming, but if you saw an inquisitor approaching in the open, it was already too late.
"Oh." Ruby said, looking worried herself. "Are you, uh, not supposed to tell us this sort of stuff?" She finished. Kallen shook her head slightly, and it was truly strange to see her so… terrified? Pyrrha didn't know her well enough to be able to tell. It was not the reaction Pyrrha would have expected from a Britannian. Where Kallen had shaken her head, however, Lelouch had only smiled.
"I wouldn't worry too much about it. We'd be happy to answer any questions you might have." Lelouch said.
"No, no, we don't want to get you in trouble-" Ruby began, putting up her hands.
"I have a question." Weiss said, taking a sip of her tea. RWBY and JNPR stared at her, and Pyrrha felt a sense of foreboding-not to mention irritation. If Weiss was about to say something rude, they were going to be having words. Lelouch waited, the picture of calm.
"Why did you come to school at Beacon?" Weiss asked. The group's collective heads shifted to look at Lelouch for his reply. Lelouch raised his eyebrows.
"Surely you know it's considered the best school for a Hunter education." Lelouch paused for a moment, contemplating. "Not to suggest that Haven or Shade are notably worse, they have their own strengths, but all three of the other schools have responsibilities outside of hunting Grimm. Atlas and Mistral have their own issues with Britannians, so they weren't in the running to begin with. That leaves Shade and Beacon, and since I have no interest in interning as a tax collector, that left Beacon the clear winner." Lelouch said.
"But why did you not attend one of the schools in your homeland? Why travel all the way to Sanus?" Weiss asked.
"I could ask you the same question. Why not Atlas?" Lelouch said, raising an eyebrow. Weiss frowned and sat a little taller, eyes narrowing. Pyrrha did not trust the tension brewing in the air.
"I wanted to travel somewhere new." Weiss said, shifting slightly, and sounding a bit defensive in Pyrrha's opinion.
"As did I. That aside," Lelouch continued, "there's also the small problem that there are no such schools in Britannia. Or the rest of Albion proper." Lelouch said.
"What?" Kallen said, blinking in surprise. "That's not true. There's the Imperial Knight Academy in Pendragon, and the old Officer Academy at Garreg Mach."
"They train to fight people, Kallen, not Grimm." Lelouch said. Kallen looked only slightly less confused than Pyrrha felt.
"Then how do your people deal with the Grimm?" Blake asked.
"For the most part, they don't have to. There aren't many Grimm on Albion." Lelouch said. The entire group fell quiet.
"Not many… what do you mean? How many?" Ruby finally asked.
"A few rag-tag packs in the deep forests, some the high mountains and deep caves. Many more in the ocean, but you could easily go your whole life without seeing Grimm on land. Before Earhart's expedition, and even before the invasion, most people assumed the old legends of monstrous hordes were myths or allegories. I imagine many still do." Lelouch said, casually taking a bite of kaarage.
The words echoed through Pyrrha's mind. It was… inconceivable. Astonishing. Impossible.
"I… I knew it was different, but I didn't realize…" Kallen muttered. Her face looked as shocked as the rest of them. Nora had frozen, handful of chips inches from her still open mouth. Ruby looked more shaken than Pyrrha had yet seen, Jaune had an adorable disbelieving scrunch to his eyebrows, Yang's expression had gone blank. Ren's eyes were wide. Weiss looked as if she'd been slapped. Suzaku alone looked unsurprised.
"But… how is that possible?" Blake asked, teacup clutched tightly in her hands.
"It's difficult to say." Lelouch said, leaning back and squinting up at the clouds. "The scriptures tell a very clear-cut story-that once, over three thousand years ago, the land was cursed with misery and death in the form of cruel, monstrous spirits. In these evil times, the blessed Saint Pendragon was inspired by a holy vision from heaven to leave the fields and take up arms and drive the plague of devils from Albion. He called together the greatest heroes of the realm, brought every count and king out from their sheltered keeps and gathered them around a great round table. Under the guidance of the Mother Above, St. Pendragon had them swear an oath to never return home until the land was safe. They marched forth, united, slaying every beast that crossed their path. They cut their way through the great serpents of the jungles, cast down the fang-toothed giants from their mountain halls, harpooned the leviathans of the lakes, ran down the devil cats of the plains, shot the death-birds out of the sky and slaughtered the maneating boars of the forests and fields. Many of the knights were slain, but for each that fell, many more flocked to the great silver banner. Heroes and villains, thieves and thanes, city states and bandit tribes, all who heard St. Pendragon's call drew the mark of the oath on their forehead and joined the fight. After seven long years of war and the deaths of countless martyrs, the land was cleansed, and the last remnants of the horde were driven to the sea. There, the Demon King Tethra rose from the waves to challenge Saint Pendragon. They did battle for three days before the demon king yielded, bleeding from seven great wounds, and swore his subjects would never return to the shores of Albion before slinking back to the depths. Afterwards, most journeyed back to their homes. Saint Pendragon returned home, and passed on the mantle of the knights of the round to his closest friend, King Alwin of Camelot, after revealing to him the wisdom of heaven and telling him how the kingdom might be ruled justly and in accordance with the will of the Mother Above. The great keep Alwin built to guard the silver banner of the order became known as the citadel of Saint Pendragon. The village that sprung up around that, became known as the village of Pendragon, even though the farm of Saint Pendragon was likely nowhere near the region. That village grew, and eventually eclipsed Camelot to become what it is today-Pendragon, the great capital city and jewel of the empire. Alwin's children expanded their rule to encompass all four kingdoms of the Britanni, and his line has ruled over them ever since–ignoring a major and lengthy Gilanian detour–all the way down to the current Emperor, and, I suppose, to me. That's the official story, at least… and the one aristocratic mothers tell their children. Whether that's accurate or not is a bit of a loaded question." Lelouch finished. Again, the group was silent. It was… astonishing and unbelievable didn't even begin to cover didn't seem possible.
"Is that why you want to become a huntsman?" Jaune asked. Pyrrha looked over at her partner, surprised by his boldness and remembering how much she liked the curve of his nose and the bold lines of his jaw that… er, uh.
"What?" Lelouch said, startled.
"Ya know, to live up to your ancestor?" Jaune said.
"Oh, no. No. Absolutely not." Lelouch said, blinking in surprise.
"But… you're from a place without Grimm. Why would you choose to come here and fight them? Why would you ever leave?" Yang asked.
"That's a long story." Lelouch said, smiling a hollow smile.
"You didn't know about all this, Kallen?" Suzaku asked. The red-haired girl shook her head.
"No, I… I've always lived on Anima. I've never been to the homeland, and I don't do church. I knew Grimm were less of a problem over there, but I didn't realize… it's just not something that they bring up in the textbooks, or in conversation." Kallen said.
"But, but, does this mean it's possible? Is there a way to beat the Grimm, once and for all?" Ruby asked, more serious than Pyrrha had ever seen her.
"Maybe, maybe not. I know I hope so. No telling of the myth I've heard has ever said how they stopped the Grimm from coming back after they were slain, and there aren't many records left from that time. Most of the archives were burnt down at one point or another." Lelouch said, frowning. Ruby deflated slightly.
"Oh." She looked down, frowning, then looked back up. "But… it means there is a way. There has to be."
"Wouldn't we have to know where they come from first? I always thought they just sort-of, appeared…" Jaune asked.
"It's been investigated since the first days of the kingdoms. There's just too many Grimm out there to do a thorough search… if there's a spawning point, we've never found one." Pyrrha said.
"You need an army just to clear all the Grimm out of one province." Ren said, speaking up with a distant and troubled expression on his face. "By the time you move on to the next place, they start coming back to the one you cleared. If you go on like that, your numbers shrink while theirs grow. Defeat is inevitable."
"No." Ruby said, with a tone that was quiet but made Pyrrha sit up a little taller with its conviction. "No. If there's a way, we'll find it one day. If it's not us, then someone after us. They won't win."
The group took that in for a moment, and Ruby squirmed uncomfortably at being the center of attention. Pyrrha noticed Lelouch in particular was smiling, eyes lit up with something between surprise and admiration.
"Aww, sis…" Yang said, smiling but with her eyes tearing up a little as she reached over to ruffle her team leader's hair.
"Gah, Yang! Why?" Ruby protested, pulling her hood back over her head.
"You know, is it possible that-" Blake started, then froze. "Wait, does anyone smell…"
Weiss, taking a sip of tea, abruptly spat it out-directly onto Yang's half-finished sandwich.
"Hey!" Yang said, turning abruptly to glare at the girl. Weiss did not look back, staring instead at her teacup.
"Pepperoni?" She said, dumbfounded. A small red slice floated innocuously to the surface of her otherwise perfectly-brewed green tea.
"Pepperoni?" Blake said, staring.
"Ooh, where?" Nora asked.
"You can't have any." C.C. replied. Pyrrha gasped in alarm when she realized the formerly empty tree branch roughly above where Weiss had been sitting was, in fact, occupied by Lelouch's green-haired partner. The girl reminded Pyrrha of a panther, perched and ready to leap down on unsuspecting prey. At the moment, however, she seemed preoccupied with the precariously balanced box of pizza in front of her. Lelouch narrowed his eyes.
"I thought we agreed on three boxes a day. That's at least the fourth this morning." He said, voice carefully neutral, somehow managing to look down his nose at a girl eight feet above him.
"You agreed. I didn't say anything." C.C. replied, slowly lifting out another slice. The box teetered, back and forth. Weiss stared up for a moment, in dawning horror, and scrambled out from underneath its looming shadow. Lelouch crossed his arms.
"Don't go wasting my funds like this. At this rate, I'll have nothing left and you'll be too fat to walk." Lelouch said. Nora choked on a bite from the sandwich she'd surreptitiously grabbed off of Ren's plate, though he immediately began to pat her hard on the back and dislodged it. Pyrrha stared at Lelouch, shocked to hear such a thing come from the otherwise unfailingly polite Prince's mouth.
"Rude." C.C. said, narrowing her eyes at Lelouch. "Very rude. Clearly you're more beast than prince, judging by your manners." She continued. Lelouch's frown deepened, and he opened his mouth to say something, but C.C. wasn't finished. "And I'd say it's better for us all that I spend the money on the greatest food in existence, rather than letting you use it to buy the services of vulnerable men in backstreet nightclubs." C.C. said.
Pyrrha… could not have heard that right. But, no, based on the reactions, she'd heard that exactly right. Weiss had dropped her pepperoni tea, Ruby looked confused, Yang looked delighted, Blake had raised an eyebrow. Jaune was blushing adorably, Nora was once again choking on a bite of sandwich, with Ren resorting to the Heimlich maneuver. Suzaku and Kallen looked mildly embarrassed, but not surprised. Lelouch tensed up for a moment, took a breath, then let out a sigh.
"Everyone, this is C.C., my partner. As you may have noticed, she has a strange sense of humor." Lelouch said.
"Gotta admire someone who's willing to give ya a-" Yang began.
"No!" Ruby tried throwing out her hands to ward off disaster.
"-pizza her mind!" Yang finished, grinning.
"I, ah… was that…?" Lelouch managed.
"A pun." Blake confirmed.
"Interesting." C.C. said, looking curiously down at Yang from her perch.
"Aw, thinking ya might want to branch out? Tree new things?" Yang continued, waggling her eyebrows.
"Uugh! Stooop!" Ruby protested, pulling her hood over her face.
"It's quite intriguing. I didn't realize such things packed such a… pun-ch. Am I doing that correctly?" C.C. said. Yang cackled in glee. Ruby leapt to her feet.
"No! No, Weiss, it's spreading! We have to do something!" Ruby said.
"Desist, the both of you." Weiss said, drawing herself up imperiously.
"You have no power over me, girl. I'm above your reproach." C.C. said, smirking.
"Above! Hah!" Yang said. "I like your style."
"Excuse me?" Weiss said, crossing her arms. "Come down and say that to my face, pizza girl."
"We challenge you both! Consider yourselves challenged!" Ruby said, sitting up quickly with a competitive spark lighting up behind her eyes.
"Challenged?"Jaune asked.
"You're on. I'm gonna wipe the floor with you." Yang said with a grin, sticking out her hand.
"Oooh, I'll make you eat those words!" Ruby said, taking it.
"What's happening?" Kallen whispered, to no one in particular.
"Shhshsh!" Nora shushed. "This is getting good!"
"Bring out-the board!" Ruby exclaimed, pointing dramatically towards the picnic basket. Everyone stared at it, unmoving.
"Jaune, that's your cue!" Ruby stage-whispered. Jaune's really-quite-handsome-blue eyes widened.
"What?" He replied. Ruby gestured aggressively towards the box, and Jaune scrambled over, pulling out a smaller and familiar-looking box.
"Remnant… the Board Game?" Lelouch said.
"Oh, wow, okay." Kallen said, smirking. "This is definitely getting good."
"I… what? What is that?" Suzaku asked.
"Er, yes Ruby, what is that?" Weiss asked.
"Doom." Ruby replied, smiling conspiratorially. Yang snickered.
"For you maybe. You think you and Weissicle can match the power of two punsters, little sister?" Yang replied, taking the box from Jaune and clearing off a spot on the picnic blanket. The three teams gathered round in a circle.
"No, I could beat you both! Alone! With my hands tied behind my back! Weiss is just the icing on the cake of defeat which I am about to serve you." Ruby said.
"Oh, we'll see about that." Yang said.
"Just the icing? I'm, icing?! Excuse me?" Weiss said, summarily ignored.
"I've never played this game before." C.C. said, now standing behind Yang with her mostly-empty box of pizza in-hand. Yang fumbled the stack of cards she'd been shuffling in surprise.
"Geeze-hey, don't worry too much about that. I've been schoolin rubes and Rubes in this game since kiddie school. Just follow my lead and we'll be ruling over these punks in no time." Yang said.
Pyrrha had seen Remnant: The Game played before, once or twice. This, however, was an affair on a whole other level. Ruby drew Vale and Weiss drew Atlas; Yang had Vacuo and C.C. took control of Mistral by default. The basic version of the game was more or less straightforward, with army pieces, cards, and dice rolls, but the version the sisters used seemed to have at least five separate expansion packs involved, adding airfleets, plagues, resource management, technological research, interpersonal politics, a bidding market, named units, and mandatory a-cappella battle themes. The last seemed to be a house rule. Ruby seemed to advance in a dramatic series of faints, Yang pushed aggressively towards objectives Pyrrha didn't understand, Weiss tried and failed repeatedly to apply logic to the madness and ended up accidentally foiling and being foiled by numerous plans, and C.C. managed to intentionally foil a few even while being more preoccupied with her remaining slices of pizza. It was, in a word, incomprehensible to Pyrrha, but mesmerizing. Much like a kaleidoscope. Some of the others seemed to agree-Lelouch in particular was watching intently, and Ren and Nora as well, though Ren spent at least half of his time supplying Nora with snacks. Kallen was cheering and booing at the appropriate times, while Suzaku looked about as confused but amused as Pyrrha felt. Blake was mostly reading her book, though she was looking up from time to time. And Jaune-
"Aw wow, looks like Weiss's in trouble." Jaune whispered, from right next to Pyrrha. She hadn't noticed his approach, and struggled to still the flutter of alarm in her chest at just how close he was, sitting right next to her.
"I admit, I, really have no idea." She replied, smiling at him. He smiled back, looking a bit embarrassed, and the fluttering intensified.
"Oh, I used to play this a lot. It's complicated, but really fun when you get the hang of it. Pretty hard when you haven't, though-Weiss really didn't think through the choice of guard captain on that wall. I mean, the guy had such a high corruption stat, Yang's spymaster barely had to lift a finger to get him to defect. Now Ruby's got to deal with that grain shortage from losing those farms, and she's in the middle of an offensive on Balmora besides-oof. Ouch. Oh boy."
Weiss's airship fleet had attacked the city of Mistral. Pyrrha felt vaguely insulted, but Jaune chuckled.
"She shouldn't have attacked on the move turn, rookie mistake. Everybody knows Lacadaemonoi characters get a buff if you try to do that, and C.C.'s got ol Odysseuos II hiding in the garrison box. Now-" Jaune paused as C.C. rolled the dice. Two sixes. Ruby groaned and Weiss protested as her entire fleet was blown out of the fictional sky by anti-air cannons. Jaune smiled, shaking his head. "Well, it's gonna be tough for her to come back from that. Good on her for trying though."
It was so nice, sitting with him in the shade, whispering together. It felt conspiratorial, like they were in on the same secret. She'd… never felt like this before. There had been a few boys she'd spent time with, even dated, but it had always felt like a performance. Uncomfortably awkward, distant, unfulfilling. It had never been anything like this. Which was strange, because wasn't this what a relationship was supposed to feel like? Trusting, intimate, sitting together on a summer day? If she was brave enough, she could just reach out and take his hand…
"Pyrrha, are you okay?" Jaune asked, eyebrow furrowed adorably in concern, his voice shocking her back to the present. "You're, uh, looking at me kinda weird. Is there something on my face?"
"Hah! Hah hah, no Jaune, no! I was just, uh, lost in thought." Pyrrha said, a little too brightly.
"Ah, okay." Jaune said, smiling back. Yang's alarmed gasp as her sea-fleet was eaten by a random-encounter kraken drew his attention back to the game, and gave Pyrrha a chance to catch her breath.
She wasn't going to act carelessly. That would be foolish, a recipe for disaster. No. She would give him time, let him make the first move. She did not want to scare him off.
In the end, Ruby managed to defeat C.C., but Yang took Atlas, and after a lengthy brawl, a number of intense dice rolls and one high-stakes round of rock-paper-scissors, Ruby's army was defeated.
"Bwahahahah! Read it and weep, sis! The Kingdom of Vacuo is triumphant once again." Yang said, grinning as she knocked over Ruby's last fortress piece.
"Ohohoh, you only think you've won! This isn't over! We will return again one day, and have our revenge!" Ruby declared, pointing at the sky. "Best two out of three?"
"Actually, seeing as that took-" Blake checked her scroll, "three hours, I've got to head over to the library and finish researching my essay for Oobleck. This has been really fun, though, feel free to keep going." Blake said, standing up and stretching.
"I think I've had enough of this for now, actually." Weiss said, standing with a sigh. "It's fun, but, I don't think I could handle another one of these today. And I also need to finish proofreading your rough draft." She finished, nudging Ruby with her shoe.
"Oh, we've got to write our essays too." Ren said. Nora's eyes widened.
"I completely forgot! Oh no!" Nora said, leaping to her feet. "Come on Renny!" She continued, hauling Ren to his feet and dragging him quickly towards the school.
"Thanks for having us!" Ren called out, rapidly receding into the treeline.
"Yeah, we'd better head back. I'll take the basket." Suzaku said, standing.
"That was a wild ride. You play like an absolute demon." Kallen said, nodding at Yang, who gasped, putting her hand to her heart.
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me!" Yang said.
"Thank you for inviting us, this was really fun. I'll have to try that game sometime." Lelouch said, smiling. Ruby's eyes lit up with excitement, as Yang grinned at him.
"Of course! Any time you have time, just let us know!" Ruby said, smiling. "Pass over your scroll, I'll put in my number so you can get in touch."
"You can have mine too, I like the sound of that proposal. Feel free to give me a ring, anytime." Yang said, winking roguishly at Lelouch.
"Eww, Yang! No. Bad." Ruby said.
"I'd love to play with you three, if ya end up needing a fourth player." Jaune said.
"Aw, Jaune! For sure. You can have my number too." Ruby said. She smiled at Jaune in a very friendly way that Pyrrha suddenly found slightly irritating.
"Hoo there, Arc-y-boy, we're happy to have ya, but are you sure you're ready to play in the big leagues?" Yang said, raising an eyebrow. Jaune smiled sheepishly.
"Well, I'm definitely willing to give it a shot." He replied.
So, after exchanging numbers, they headed back. Looking over at Jaune as he chatted with Suzaku, sun lighting up his smiling face, Pyrrha couldn't help but think it had been a truly wonderful morning.